Kick Your Azz

Periodically i will reread my last blog entry and get really angry. I’m supposed to. What’s why i wrote it. I am my own worst enemy so what better way to spur myself on than to insult myself in some way?
In the last week I ran 8.1 miles. The week before only 2.8. The week before that a big, fat 0. So, there is movement in these legs. There is a slow improvement. That psychological getting back on the horse so to speak.
I think running with the Rebeccas truly helped. The one that’s training for the marathon and the one who runs just for the hell of it. Not to split hairs, but running with Rebecca Two was more relaxing. I didn’t feel too much pressure to kick a fast pace so i was able to bang out 4.8 miles with her.

We started out the morning feeling like the same train had run us both down. Getting to bed at 1am at something to do with it, i’m sure. She was adamant about running and i was equally adamant of watching her go while i poured myself another cup of coffee. Buh-bye! But, as she started to get ready to run (groaning all the while) something inside me growled, “just fukcing get out there!” I think i surprised myself more than i did her when i said, “alright, let’s do this thing!”
Up to Look we talked all the way. Just when i was about to tell her to not be offended by my silence or stalker heavy breathing she asked me the same. Still we continued to blahblahblah. Around Look we passed an antique car show and i pointed out the theater where one day i hope Bec will perform. It was then that i had to giggle. I was running with one of my favorite musicians! Crazy! she kept saying it was a great run. I felt honored to be a part of it.
When we got out of the park i decided i had more in the tank and felt i could go another 2 miles. Two turned into 2.8 with a tiny sprint at the end. It was a lot of fun and i promise, i will never doubt myself that deeply ever again. I’m glad i kicked my own azz.

Everyone Around Me

Everyone around me is making me ill and it’s my own damn fault. I’m surrounded by running, running, running. Everywhere i look someone is bragging posting their stats. “I ran this far…” “I ran this fast…” “I ran this race…” I ran. I say it’s my fault because i chose to surround myself with these people. I thought i would appreciate the motivation. I thought i would be encouraged by their determinations. I read the blogs of runners of all levels. Many of these people i have never met. Some are training to run their very first 5K. Some are in the marathon phase of their lives. Some are running beyond marathons and getting into ultra marathons. Nevertheless, they are all running something somewhere.

I sound bitter. I know it and i hate it. One of my best friends is running a marathon this January. I’m happy for her, yet i can’t help but feel a little jealous as well. Another friend isn’t training for anything at all, yet she runs every single day at least three miles. For the hell of it. I should be impressed, yet i can’t help but feel a little envious as well. These people, these friends – I must stress that – these friends are doing what i said i wanted to do.

So, if that’s true. If I really am jealous and envious and i really truly want to run, why aren’t i? Why am i not on the street in the early morning light banging out a few miles? Why not me? I haven’t got a clue.

I do know that day before yesterday i got on the treadmill for exactly 30 minutes and was able to put in a 2.77 mile run. Nothing to write home about, but nothing to sneeze at, either. At least i did it. Can i get to marathon level? I don’t think so. Will I start running every single day? I seriously doubt it. Am i okay with that? Not right now. Will i ever be okay with that? Hopefully. In the meantime i will have to put up (and shut up) with all this running from everyone around me.

What I Talk About…

Murakaml, Haruki. What I Talk About When I Talk about Running: a Memoir. New York: Afred A. Knopf, 2008.

They say it’s common when something gets lost in the translation. But, what does it mean when something is found in it? Haruki’s What I Talk About… speaks to me on so many different levels, despite the fact that it is translated from the Japanese by Philip Gabriel. Whenever I review a book I like to pick one or two quotes – excerpts from the book that evoke a reaction in me. Ranging from “aha, I never thought of it that way!” to “EXACTLY! This person gets it!” and everything in between. With What I Talk About… I found seven different passages to quote in the first 17 pages. If I were to point out every sentence I loved I would end up quoting the whole book. That wouldn’t exactly encourage people to go out and buy it for themselves and I’m pretty sure Haruki (and his lawyers!) would have some copyright issues to discuss with me.

To say that I loved every page of this book is an understatement. It is better to say I connected with every word. I’m not the runner that Haruki is. I don’t run 2 miles a day let alone the 6 or 8 he does six days a week!And I don’t necessarily agree with his choice of music (I have no clue who Gorillaz is). But, how he feels about running gets me to the core. He talks about not being a competitive person – neither am I. He talks about not hating to be alone – me neither. He talks about running as a spiritual thing, something to hold sacred. How many times have I said the run is 75% emotional, 25% physical? Haruki even shares my opinion about a brand of running shoe (no bells, whistles or gimmicks but gets the job done). I found myself exclaiming, “yes, exactly!” on nearly every page. Which had me wondering…if Nancy Pearl became a runner and wrote another Book Lusty book, would What I Talk About… make it into a chapter? I bet it would. The only other thing I have to say is go read it for yourself. It’s that good.