Cybex SomethingErRather

So, I met with a good friend to work out last night. It wasn’t the usual sweat on the gerbil wheel go ’round. Instead, we tried a cardio machine we’ve never seen before – a Cybex something…As usual, I have a ton of questions. Okay, the machine is like an elliptical only no arm movement. The motion was a lot like walking in sandsorry – like a smooth rider stair master…But, here’s the quandary – are you supposed to hold onto anything? I couldn’t even reach the vertical handles. And – to bounce or not bounce? I saw people holding their torsos still and others bouncing along with the movement of their legs. Call me crazy, but I was confused. I can’t even find a picture of the thing I was using. The good news is that I did sweat for 30 minutes so something was happening. The next time I go I’ll have to get more information on the new toy in the gerbil cage.

fly

What do you call procrastination when it finally gives into action? A short run served with a better attitude. I finally laced up the shoes 75 minutes before I had to meet S for Robinella. Talk about forcing myself to be unambitious. Actually, I have no plans to formally start training until I know what I’m running for. I refuse to run for nothing so a good, good charity has to show itself before I can commit. I’ve decided that running Gasparilla just to run in FL isn’t for me. End of story. Anyway, back to the run.
I ran the same route as before: Chestnut, Bridge, Prospect, bike path & home. This time I ran with a little more gusto and looked like a beet when I got back. When will I lose the red face?
Here’s what I liked about this run: seeing a new crop of real tigerlilies, spotting the spirits in the graveyard, no cars on Prospect (I hate not having a sidewalk) and the simple, simple fact I felt stronger on this run. Now, for the bad news. I didn’t appreciate the carload of yea-boyz smirking at me – okay, so I’m a woman running. Big deal. Roll your tongues back in. I’m not your type. Never mind I’m old enough to be your mother. I also didn’t care for the creepy man on the bike path. Decidedly darker than normal (clouds were rolling in), it was the most nerve wracking part of the run. How do I know you’re not faking that limp but as soon as I brush past you, you won’t snatch me? I watch too much crime tv. I swear I saw braces underneath his pants, but that didn’t stop me from picking up the pace a little.
I felt like this run was an experience in soaring. Like I said, I felt stronger. I’m feeling guilty for not wearing a heart monitor, a pedometer or anything that would track stats. I have no clue how fast (or slow) I ran. I’m not aware of my distance nor do I care. All I know is that I ran. End of story.
Conversation with my knee- a little creaky.

Confused by Books

I wanted to announce that I am officially overloaded with books. First I have the crazy booklust challenge, then I have the running books I’m trying to read on the side, then I get the announcement that RandomHouse is offering me not one, but TWO books to review. This is great news but, at the same time, devastating because I have let the running books fall by the wayside.
When I trained for the LLS I inundated myself with running advice. I wouldn’t be training with my group so I needed all the information & help I could get. Here I was, a person who hates to run, trying to teach myself how to do it properly. It’s not as simple as one foot in front of the other, my friend. The books will tell you how you land on your foot is important. The book will tell you how far off the ground your stride should be. The book will tell you how to hold your hands, how to swing your arms, where to look. Oh yes, the book will tell you. And tell you.
So, here I am, back to reading the books. Books like “The Nonrunner’s Marathon Guide for Women” by Dawn Dais. Or not. See, I’m on a roll with the BL challenge , I have an obligation to this RH thing and if there are two of them….
I’m confused by the books.

Brand New

I have the song “Brand New Key” (written by Melanie Safka, but RobinElla’s version) rattling around in my head whenever I look at my new running shoes. They make me happy and here’s why:
They fit.
They are kids sized so they are $50 cheaper than the adult version.
They are built exactly like the adult version so I get the same support.
They are blue and white.
They don’t hurt.

I ran for 30 minutes yesterday and while the heat got to me, the shoes didn’t. I ran the smallest of loops: Chestnut, Bridge, Prospect, bike path, home. I didn’t even measure the distance. I want to go again today but I’m taking someone’s advice and getting a second wind. Today is my husband’s birthday so I’ll spend the time moving in a new bed and planning a cookout.
knee conversation: feels great!

Run #1 – T is for Treadmill

9am this morning I met a good friend for a workout at her gerbil cage. I was impressed. Her cage is much bigger than mine. Story goes it used to be a roller rink. Figures. Mine must have been a laundry mat or something. Anyway, she walks on the treadmill and for the first 15 minutes I walk along side her, pouring out my heart. I mean, this is one of my oldest friends and I seriously don’t see her enough.
But, after 15 minutes it was time to take off the training wheels, whip off the kid gloves and get down to business. I started with an incline of 3 and a speed of 5 – I think that translates into a 12 minute mile. Every 30 seconds I lower the incline by .5 and raised the speed by 1 until I was running flat at 6.2. I wanna guess that’s something like a 10 minute 20 second mile. I can’t be sure. To tell you the truth, this was my first time on a treadmill in a long time. I didn’t have a thing to prove to anyone, nothing to improve upon, nothing to compare this run to. It felt good just to get ‘er going as they say.

Bottomline: My total distance was a little over 4 miles but that includes warmup and cooldown.
Knee discussion: feels great

4 Months to a 4-hour Marathon

Kuehls, David. 4 Hours to a 4-Month Marathon. New York: Penguin, 2006.

I could probably read this thing in an hour. It’s seriously just over 100 pages long. An hour of nothing but this book, that is all I would really need. But, I don’t want just as hour. Every page has really good information; information I want to swirl around my brain – much like a Sommelier swirls wine around the tongue. I want to taste and savor the advice I’m getting. Let it linger. It’s all stuff I’ve heard before from people like Amby Burfoot and John “the Penguin” but I’m treating this like a refresher, not a lecture. Something to savor and lodge it in the brain a second time, and for some of the information, for the very first time. There is no pressure so I’m only on chapter 3, “Gear-ing Up” (p 12). Already I’m taking away knowledge. I’ll take it right to my local run shop because there’s where I went wrong the first time. Here’s the path to my downfall: I started my training in silly WallyWorld $15 cross trainers. They had been my “walking shoes” before I decided to pick up the pace. When they started to sag a little I went mall – bound to Ladies BigFoot Locker. They took one look at my feet and said “Try Kids Foot Locker.” Not that kids don’t train to run seriously. Not that they can’t run any better than me, but I didn’t want something with pink shoelaces and a grinning Elmo on each side. So, I headed for a reputable running shop. “Do you have these in 5 or 5.5?” was met with “Probably not, but let me dig around in the back.” I envisioned the multi-pierced store clerk flinging boxes, searching in vain for something to come back with, afraid to come back empty handed. Finally, she found something. As I counted 7 unnatural holes in her face she explained they were the last pair and she “hoped they worked.” I tried them all for all of 45 second before deeming them “okay.” I left the store $100 poorer and a wilted sense of excitement. It wasn’t the experience I had anticipated and I’ve had trouble ever since.

So. Tomorrow, I try again. I’m going to interview each store clerk and figure out which ones run from the law and which ones run like me. David said I need to tell that store clerk my running history: This is me. I trained to run 13.1, hurt the knee and have been scared silly to try again, but, but. But. Here I am. I’m trying again.
I’m going to try on more than one pair for more than 30 seconds. I’m not going to flee the store with something I can’t wear just because I’m embarrassed that I’ve wasted someone’s time looking for the right size.

Wish me luck.

Run Like A Girl

Well. The national walking challenge is officially over. Supposedly, they’ll send me a certificate proclaiming my success. Whatever. We walked five miles today just to say who cares that the official challenge has ended?
But, onto the better stuff. Running. I still haven’t ran a yard, but I did pick up two books – Dawn Dais’s The Non-Runner’s Marathon Guide for Women and Training for Mortals, a Runner’s Logbook by John “The Penguin” Bingham. The second one isn’t exactly a book,but you get the picture.
Here’s my deal – I want to make sure I come back from injury 100% healthy and that means healthy in the head, too. I took the patellofemoral pain thing kinda hard and when my physical therapist said I should take up swimming, well, I believed him. Hook, line and sinking heart. I hate feeling this way. I hate the self-doubt that crowds my already overactive brain. I just want to run, dammit!
With any luck I’ll get there. I picked up ankle weights so I can further strengthen the hip (Runner’s World had great exercises for the psyche). I also looked into newer joint drugs….I want something with antioxidents.
The progress is slow, but I liken it to climbing up that big hill at the beginning of a roller coaster, it’s so but the payoff will be big.

Shout at the Devil

The devil is feeling lazy and today I took one angry scream at it. My angel? A little yoga. A little more weight training. A four mile walk thrown in for good measure. The halo on top? A plan with a friend. Let me start from the beginning.
Yoga was barely a process. Saluting a sun already up for hours, feeling the stretch come slow and easy in down-dog, cobra, childs… While the practice was a mere five minutes it felt good to move from pose to pose in easy grace. I felt strong in every warrior pose.
Speaking of strong –  it was then time for the BowFlex. I’m new to this type of weight training. I prefer free weights that force me to keep my form. But the BF wasn’t that bad. We concentrated on upper body strength – back, chest, arms, and abs. Changing the weights was laughable. I wasn’t able to get the right mix of bands but it was only my first time…In addition to the BF I concentrated on quad work. Everyone is telling me in order to help the knee I have to strengthen the quads. I’m on it.
The four mile walk was quick – one eye on the weather, one eye on the river beside me. We went beyond the park and chased the river with no sign of rain until we put one foot in the door back home. Bring on the rain.
But, here’s the best part – the plan with a friend. I was this close to canceling my gym membership. I hadn’t gone in months and while it’s only $10 I was feeling guilty. Plain and simple, I didn’t like shelling out $10 a month for guilt. Now, my friend just joined. I’ll go whenever she goes. I’m free from working out with the college boys! Yay!

So. While I haven’t run a single step I’m on my way back to training. I feel as though I am washing away the self doubt, rinsing away the insecurity. I’m taking it slow enough to stand in the face of anxiety and say boo. Take that!

Thinking of the run

The surf is calling my name. I can hear it in the spray. I am days away from refilling this empty heart. Recharging the dead battery in my soul. Tacky cliches? You betcha. I need my island like my heart needs to pump and the blood’s gotta flow. Send me home with a note that reads “please take care of this tigre” because I need to go home. Now.
I want to run up to the woods, say my prayers in the pines. I want to stop for raspberries and clover, sunlight on my shoulders. I need to run to the water’s edge and laugh in the face of the angry waves. You can’t catch me…still. I’ve got ten days to make it happen. I need to run just once while I’m home. Who cares if I run slower because of gnarled roots and passing day trippers? Who cares if I can’t make it up TY hill because my stomach wants to stop for donuts? I’ll keep running because I can. I’ll run because I’m home.

Creeping Out

I want to run 13.1. Again. I’m scared and feeling stupid for being so silly. Here’s the pathetic story. My grandmother lost her battle with cancer when my mother was only 13 years old. My mother lost her childhood to the cancer that killed her mother. That angered me enough to start running. In May of 2006 I ran 13.1 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma society. 7 weeks before race day I developed patellofemoral pain syndrome in my right knee. My physical therapist “advised” me to give up. Instead, I ran my heart out on raceday and ended up with a bone fracture in my foot, mild hypothermia and my knee? My PT guy called the damage there “a doozy.” He couldn’t even come up with the technical term for what ailed me. I was on crutches for a month and again was advised to give up. The exact words were, “do you like swimming?” He claimed my body was just not right for running.

It’s been 15 months and my longest run since the 13.1 has been 5.2 miles..back in April. I’m afraid of the pain. I’m afraid of failure. I’m afraid I will anger the knee again. I feel as though I’m blind, toe-tapping, feeling my way cautiously, trying to get back to healthy. I’ve started research. Researching what exercises I need to strengthen the hip (that connects to the troubled knee and weak ankle).  I WILL get this. I will run again. I just need to creep back out.