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.

Tapping the Troubles

I wasn’t going to run this week. Thought i would glower and growl my week away instead. I hate it when i become fixated on things i can’t control…like cancer. Not me or mine but still troubling me just the same.

Meanwhile i had just been to the doctor for my own set of keep me up at night diagnosis. Alpha 1 Antitypsin Deficiency. What? “I want you to get some blood work done…just as a precaution…” This after Dr. E had wailed on my back and made me breathe in and out like a hot and heavy phone perv. Then came the feminine annual…and lots of blood. “Let’s get you scheduled for a colposcopy, too.” Great. What else could go less than winsome? Turns out, dehydration. “Drink water.” Dr. E concluded. Right.

With all of this on the brain and a bright sun still shining i was convinced to go for a small run – a tiny run. It started out quiet. Up the bike path, through the speckled shadows of green, up to the busier road of Bridge, ignoring the care, past the cemetery of angels, back down the bike path. By then i knew i had logged four miles. By the time i got back to town i wanted to push it just a little further. Passed the pizza shop, crossed by the gas station (now closed, empty and forlorn) and beyond the book store and back down my street the other way. 4.33 miles.

I don’t know what to think of these runs i keep putting out. I know they clear my head. I don’t push for personal best. I don’t want to beat the competition real or in my head. I just want to save my sanity, one step at a time.

Beer, the Great Motivator

I probably wouldn’t have run tonight if my husband hadn’t decided to bottle his home brew with his homeboy tonight. Last week they brewed; this week they bottle. They’re calling it Baby Brew in honor of the friend’s wife having a baby girl any second now. Not wanting to put myself around pregnancy (or beer) i decided to stay home…and run.

Again, the treadmill called my name. I had a book in my hand. But, the treadmill called louder. Called me names like whimp so i got on for the ride. Then the tread got mean. Started saying i was a slow poke and a rookie. Truth was, i was feeling lazy and couldn’t seem to find anything faster than 11.2 mile/hr. I don’t know what made me do it but i decided to hide the speed readout under a towel and let my body really tell me how fast to run. Every 5 minutes i upped the speed by one. By the time it was all said and done i had logged 2.89 in 30 minutes. Okay, so it wasn’t a 10 minute mile, but it was close. Better than 11.2, am i right? So, thanks to some beer brewin’ i was able to put in another (sorta) 3miles!

Favorite song of the night: Heat of the Moment by Toto

Keeping Up

Some time ago i spouted about running being a solitary sport. I train alone. I run alone. I am alone. Then, i entertained the thought of running with strangers, one of those running group things. My shyness overtook my need to socialize and i never made it to the pack. Then i thought i would run with friends and that decision filled me with trepidation. What if i couldn’t keep up? What if they wanted to talk the whole time while i can barely breathe at their pace? What if i don’t run long enough? Run hard enough? What if? So i announced i was a solo runner. I train alone. I run alone. I am alone.

Yesterday, i broke my own “rule” and ran with a friend. Intimidation meets reality. She is training for a marathon. She trains with a hard core group that not only runs 7-8 miles as their warm-up, but weight trains three days a week, run sprints (to increase time, of course) once a week and trail run their long runs. In other words, my friend is hard core training. I have nothing to train for, nothing to push for, nothing to inspire me beyond my 3-4 mile world. Deathly afraid of the pain that still haunts my knees i am the quiet, tired and timid. Yet, i agreed to run with my friend.

Yes, she talked the whole time. I was even able to answer back on occasion. At one point she said, “if i’m talking too much, tell me to shut up.” I huffed back, “as long as you don’t get offended if i don’t respond…” I was lame with my excuse, “I’m not used to talking to anyone when i run…” It was feeble and i knew it. It was pathetic. She knew it but didn’t point it out.

We ran for 35 minutes – 3.5 miles. A walk in the park for Miss Marathon but at least i kept up, at least i could talk (somewhat). At least i didn’t collapse. Instead, i overcame something bigger – my fear of the competition that was all in my head.

The Good in Jealousy

The sun peeked out. Shyly at first, as if it wasn’t sure it really belonged in our New England sky. Can’t say i blame it, we have had torrential downpours for weeks on end. Big trees felled by strong winds and vicious lightning bolts. Roads washed out by fast floods, water rushing with nowhere to go. Storm drains and gutters crying mercy as they overflow and spill out.

When the sun got a little braver and its shine became a little brighter my husband announced a bike ride was in order. Having run yesterday, less than 12 hours ago, i planned to prop myself up in a lawn chair and finish an Early Review – after all, a second ER book was plopped on front stoop without warning so i’ve got a ton to get through this month. No more than 30 seconds after the Mister left did i start feeling the bite of jealousy. I needed to get out there, too. But, what about the knee? I could hear myself, the practical one, asking. Oh. Yeah. The knee. Now cautious me was chiming in. Go for it, moi said. Despite cautious outweighing careless i laced up the sneakers, strapped on the ipod and hit the pavement.

It was only a 2.1 mi run, but i completed it in under 20 minutes – haven’t done that since Darfur. It felt good to make my way to Look, see the Swell Season sign (see you tomorrow!) and make my way down the bikepath (haven’t been there in ages, either). I have missed the twisted trees more than i knew. My mister tells me i missed him by *this* much. He too took the bike path home. On his bike – the thing that got me out there in the first place.

So, there is good in jealousy – another run.

Get the Lead Out!

Run Like a Girl

Run like a girl. Girl like a run. I’ve been reading other running/training blogs and they have been half inspiring me, half making me feel like crap. How is that possible? I admire them, yet hate them at the same time. Someone is running the TNT 13.1 tomorrow. Someone else is competing in a triathlon. How dare they? Yet, they rock. Completely. To the core.

So, I got on the tread tonight. Good old gerbil wheel. If i were gutsier i would buy reflective gear and run outside…in the dark. What a trip that would be (yea, on my azz!) I got on the treadmill partly out of disappointment so this run was all about working out the negative emotion. A friend and i had justjustjust made plans to see a movie when all of a sudden she remembered she was supposed to see “her man” (a self described ‘fling’). She said she didn’t want to be “that”girl and i believed her. But, i couldn’t help thinking if he were really a fling she wouldn’t have any problems canceling with him to hang out with a friend, me. No matter. I’m cool with it, but that still doesn’t stop me from being disappointed.

So, I ran to erase the guilt i had for not being able to shrug it off. After all, i can admit, i was once “that” girl, too. I found someones training schedule in a recent blog and thought i would try my hand at it (or legs as the case may be):
10 minutes @ 11.5mi pace
15 minutes @ 11mi pace (only my tread doesn’t have 11min exactly so it was 10.9mi pace)
15 minutes @ 10mi pace
5 minutes @ 11.5mi pace

Instead of knocking back to 11.5 after chugging at 10mi pace I slowed down 1 min at a time:
6.0
5.9
5.8
5.7
5.6 where i ended. 4.22 miles in 45 minutes. I used the same playlist as the last run. No big revelation there!

Hello Goodbye Hello

Good intentions. Is there a class i can take, a course i can master, something that will teach me how to stay on track? It’s either write about wanting to run or run and want to write about it, but not both. There seems to be no way to combine the two: run then actually write about it. This keeping track of everything has been started in strange fits. It’s making me have fits!

So. Here is my hello. Again. Deja vu.

I wanted to get outside. Running around the neighborhood affords me a sense of loss. I have no idea how far i can go and so i get lost in the run. Tonight, the thunder rolled across the sky like old wooden beer kegs. Within minutes rain drenched the streets and quelled my thoughts of outdoor running. Instead i turned to the trusty treadmill and climbed aboard. I knew i wanted an hour run. I wasn’t concerned with distance or pace. I have nothing to prove. This running thing is a slow climb out of hell called injury and depression. I knew i had to take it slow. So i would take an hour, however it came to me.

I don’t have an intimate relationship with the treadmill. I don’t know the difference between programs and levels. Nothing is set into the memory of my gerbil wheel so when i do play with the buttons it’s always an adventure. This time it was called “rolling hills” which i assumed (wrongly) had something to do with incline/hill work. Not so. It was all about speed. Having no clue about “levels” i set rolling hills to level 5 and prayed i could perform whatever craziness lay ahead.

I don’t need to tell you what walking a 20 minute pace will do to a running soul. It killed me. Deflated me. I almost wanted to pull the emergency stop cord and jump off. Get back to my old standby of quick start and go. But, i stayed with it and was soon running 6.1 miles an hour. That definitely felt better and i got used to the “rolling” that went along with it. So, while the rain fell steadily outside i chugged along on the treadmill, watching the miles tick by, happy to be moving.

In the end, i was able to eke out 5.3 miles. And for this chaotic mess, that’s pretty good.
Favorite songs:

• Joker and the Thief ~ Wolfmother
• Gone Daddy Gone ~ Violent Femmes
• West L.A. Fadeaway ~ Grateful Dead
• Use the Force ~ Jamiroquai
• Scorpio Rising ~ 10,000 Maniacs
• Disease ~ Matchbox 20
• Paralyzer ~ Finger Eleven
• Paint it Black ~ Rolling Stones
• Twilight Zone ~ Golden Earing
• This is How a Hear Breaks ~ Rob Thomas
• Don’t Drink the Water ~ Dave Matthews Band (Red Rocks version)
• Lose Yourself ~ Eminem
• Synchronicity II ~ Police

Day Four

As usual i am a day behind and a dollar short. Don’t know where that saying came from but i have always loved it because i can relate! Anyway, this is how yesterday went:

Cleaner eating: was a disaster…maybe. I had a respectable bowl of cereal and half a cup of coffee. I tried reheating the coffee and having another cup but somehow managed to let that one go cold, too. Maybe i just don’t like my husband’s coffee…i don’t know. The rest of the afternoon was spent “grazing” from the fridge: 1/2 cup cottage cheese (low fat), a handful of wheat thin crackers (low sodium), a handful or raisins (plain), a few leaves of lettuce…nothing really substantial until dinner. Meatballs and whole wheat pasta.

Weight Training: Followed Merrill’s training from the Oxygen magazine and did a bunch of situps and calf raises. Overhead tricep presses with 8lb weights. Four sets of 12 for everything.

Cardio: Ran for 40 minutes on the treadmill. Got as far as 3.82 miles. That makes 6.31 miles so far this month. Yay.

Yoga: Wednesday is balancing month and i think i need help with nearly every move. That’s not entirely true but here are the ones that are giving me trouble: Tree pose (i want to get my leg higher – say thigh high and still balance strong. Right now i’m hovering at the calf level). Warrior III (i love the way the sequence goes from tree to warrior III but i don’t feel my W3 is strong enough). Half Moon (not nearly as pretty or as strong as i want it to be. i feel as though i am out of whack). Eagle pose (Cyndi doesn’t have me sitting into the pose but i think i would like to).
Here are the poses I feel best about: downward dog split (although i found myself lifting the wrong left and threading the needle instead), chair pose with twist (my ankles are getting stronger), side inclined plane (love, love, love this pose!)
It’s funny, but i was watching Namaste Yoga yesterday and they ran almost this exact same sequence. Of course they looked amazing!