Fiver

Dear Bitches,

We should go for a run this week. The main reason is because I'm attending a class in Wilsonville, OR all week and so, what the heck, right? Oh, you can bring K-Fed if'n y'ant to. She seems cool.
Best regards,
Mike

Not the best run ever :(

No snow.
No bridge.
No Chelsea pier.
No Hudson.
No coach.
No pot pie and beer.
This one was just a run.

Best. Run. EVER.

Thanks coach :)

how anger makes you faster

I don't know what it is but I've pretty much converted to a treadmill runner in the last two weeks. I think I've run outside only two out of eight runs in that time. Yeah, it's cold but that only matters for about a block. And now it's snowing again, a lot this time, and that could matter a lot. But I just get used to the in-out-done of the gym. No coming back to work to collect my stuff, no traffic lights, no helicopter exhaust. Then again, out on the trail you don't have to deal with any RUDE BITCHES except Michelle, if you're lucky enough to have her company.

So anyone who's ever belonged to a gym has a passing familiarity with the cardio signup. You sign up for a half hour slot on a specific machine and then when your time comes, you get the machine. Right? So I sign up for a treadmill, number 3 to be exact, because I like that one. It doesn't squeak or rock. You can see your feet reflected in the window. It's not on the end. It's not directly in view of the creepy dude in the office across the street who likes to watch the girls on the treadmills. And I sign up for a 7:30 spot because that is the first time-slot available even though I got to the gym at 6:15. It's these damn membership drives. Bring a friend! Such is life.

So at 6:15 I take the stupid "dance class" with the lunatic Latina sexpot who makes us all gyrate like strippers and pretends that it's salsa. At 7:00 I do a round of weight machines. At 7:30, I get a drink of water, stretch and wait for #3 to vacate. She doesn't. At 7:35, I hop onto the broken treadmill next to her (maybe if enough people join this week they'll fix it) and I ask her if she's almost done. She lifts up her magazine to check the digital readout and says "I still have one more mile." And I say, nicely, reasonably, "There's a sign up for the machines." And she looks at me like I'm crazy and says, "Can't you use one of those?" It's true there are three other treadmills empty at the moment, though only one of them is unassigned on the sheet. "I'm sort of attached to this one," I say. "Well," she huffs, sneering, "it's gonna be like five more minutes."

What is that? I understand wanting to finish your run, and that's why I didn't bother you until 7:35. And could I use another treadmill? Sure. And of course I do, because it's already 7:40 and I'd like to eat dinner at some point. But there's a signup sheet for a reason and the reason is that IT"S NOT YOUR @#!#@!# TREADMILL. And the considerate thing to do in such a situation would be for YOU to get on a different machine.

Okay, sorry. I'm done. That's not a flattering picture of myself I just painted. But I can be petty and small. And that's why I ran two 8:30s followed by a 9:30. Which is pretty much like the wind, for me.

4 on the 'mill

Why? Good question. I mean is was bright and dry today; warm in the sun. It was still daylight when I left work. It would have been a nice evening for a run. And yet I chose to 'mill it. I think because it's harder to dog it on the 'mill. You can set a pace and then make yourself stick to it. It's easy, especially when running by yourself, to settle into the same old jog-along shuffle routine. Intervals keep things interesting, but, again with the discipline.

One nice thing about where I live is that there's a world-class training trail about a half-mile from my house (Track Town, USA!). The Adidas running trail is covered in bark. There's a 1600 meter (1 mile, for us Amuricans) lighted loop and a partially integrated 1000 meter loop marked in 100 meter intervals. I'll just say that it's awesome. 3:00 x 3:00s and :40/:20s are a piece of cake and progress is easy to measure, but I digress.

I chose a treadmill tonight because I wanted to push it, just a little, and this seemed like the best and easiest way under the circumstances. I'm at that point where a little shove is necessary in order to get over that hump and, believe me, I want to be on the other side. Regardless, I ground out four 8:00s. It was work, but not misery - and I did it. I had the luxury of time which allowed for the follow-up of some long stretches, which means that I'll get to run again next time.

How's everyone else (who's not being consumed) coming along?

Consumption junction, what's your function?

I'm the first victim of the seasonal changes. I am sick as a dog with what appears to be consumption. It's unfortunate, I am bored as hell, and it is a good reminder that running is a more pleasant physical experience than some of the other possibilities. I am hoping for a quick recovery with minimal losses of what little cardiovascular, musculoskeletal advances I had made.

When I woke up yesterday, clearly in the early throes of lungular revolt, I froggily proclaimed to Ryan that if I had traded in my marathon for brownies I would, in fact, kill myself. So, eat your fruits and veggies. That way, when you get sick, it won't seem like a legitimate excuse for suicide.

Lithe rather than bulky

That is my fitness goal, despite the fact that my genes generally tip me toward the latter. To be fit and physically capable, that's what motivates me. When training, my mind always goes to a portion of a favorite passage from 'The Pugilist at Rest' by Thom Jones. The passage in its entirety is highly recommended reading as it ponders more philosophically, particularly in the final paragraph, but my point is made below:

"Perhaps it is Theogenes who is depicted in the famous Roman statue (based on the Greek original) of "The Pugilist at Rest."...The statue depicts a muscular athlete approaching his middle age. He has a thick beard and a full head of curly hair. In addition to the telltale broken nose and cauliflower ears of a boxer, the pugilist has the slanted, drooping brows that bespeak torn nerves. Also, the forehead is piled with scar tissue. As may be expected, the pugilist has the musculature of a fighter. His neck and trapezius muscles are well developed. His shoulders are enormous; his chest is thick and flat, without the bulging pectorals of the bodybuilder. His back, oblique and abdominal muscles are highly pronounced, and he has that greatest asset of the modern boxer - sturdy legs. The arms are large, particularly the forearms, which are reinforced with the leather wrappings of the cestus. It is the body of a small heavyweight - lithe rather than bulky, but by no means lacking in power: a Jack Johnson or a Dempsey, say. If you see the authentic statue at the Terme Museum, in Rome, you will see that the seated boxer is really not much more than a light-heavyweight...The important thing is that he was perfectly proportioned."

Kind of makes you want to get going, doesn't it?

And then one day

He looked up and he noticed that it was 6:00 p.m. and it was still daylight. It caught him off guard, because he hadn't really been paying attention since about Halloween, but it made his heart lighten just a little and then his brain started to smile and he started his run, for the first time in a long time, being able to distinguish so much more than just headlights. And there were other people out, too, and they were running and walking their dogs and enjoying the additional daylight. The broken sidewalk and the encroaching cars at the business driveways and various sidestreets were less dangerous. It actually felt good just to be outside. The air tasted different and felt warmer in his lungs and he knew that the training had just gotten a little bit easier, even as it was about to get just a little bit harder. He knew that the long hours of running still ahead would be bearable, given the fact that the days would lengthen in cogress with the training requirements. His mind began to wander a bit and then, at 18th and Patterson, he realized that he was bouncing - almost imperceptibly, perhaps - but nonetheless bouncing up and down. He was not bent over with his hands on his knees, waiting for the light to change, he was actually jogging in place. He rounded another corner and trotted on toward home.

hangover

I just ran my 6 from last week. The weekend just didn't work out for me this time. I woke up disproportionately hungover (or so I thought) on Saturday and the blinding headache just never left. I didn't leave the house all weekend.

The 6, she was ok. There were lots of (fair weather) runners out and it was 60 weird and humid degrees. I thought it would pour rain on me, but it didn't. I kind of get a kick out of running in ridiculous weather, especially if it starts when you're already running. Torrential rains, 50 mph winds, snow. It just makes it feel that much more worth doing. Look! I'm running in this! Why would I do that if I weren't awesome? I didn't feel that awesome today, but I finished. And next week I get to run with Mike. Yippee! We'll be sure to post a picture of how cute we are so you can all puke.

There's an old joke that says

..."I used to stretch for two minutes and play for 20. Now I stretch for 20 and play for two." Yeah? Well, it's no joke. This is not self-deprecation. I don't like it, but it happens to be a matter of fact. For me. Regardless, I started gymming it this week. It had gotten to that point: No putting it off any longer. Start doing the stuff if you think that you want to keep doing the other stuff. The end.

So I started out light, you know? As previously posted, I've been here before; I know the deal. I want to walk. Being able to straighten my arm in order to reach for something comes in handy, too. So I took it nice an easy. Wow! Had it really been that long? Guess so. You have to be careful, because it feels really good your first time back. Then it hurts like a mamma-jamma. Then you have to go back in order to show your muscles who's boss. Then you start to feel stronger, leaner, more agile. Then it gets good and you start to actually feel physically capable. Your pants get loose. It feeds itself and becomes a way of life. I can see that far, but today I'm left to look forward to the next workout and chant: come on muscle memory! And then like the guy on the G train: Any day now!

Apparently...

...I have the biomechanics of a marionette.

It's true. I can't just run. It doesn't work that way. For me. Any more. Seriously, I'm somehow unable to work the muscles necessary for running by simply running. I know. I don't get it either. But I do know that if I only run, then it won't be long before things start hurting...like my hips and my knees and my shins and my feet. And if I ignore it, then these things start to REALLY hurt. Eventually, I will develop a training-ending pain of some sort. I know from experience because I don't want it to be true. I focus on my form and visualize the necessary muscles doing their respective jobs. I suppose it's possible that my form is as poor as my visualization techniques, but the pain remains in either case.

Mostly, it's that little muscle just above and slightly to the inside of your kneecap. I've come to understand that it's kind of an important one. However, that little son-of-a-bitch will slowly atrophy into uselessness by running alone and so I resort to cross-training. Oh, and stretching. Believe me, the only thing I hate more than stretching is how I feel if I attempt to run and don't stretch. And it works. For me. Pamy, I thought that you might appreciate this. Anyway, these are the things which I must do if I want to run. I've come to accept it as just part of the deal.

I guess that the trick here is to try to share what I know - or what I think I know - about what works for me without sounding like a horse's ass. I'm trying. 'Cause I'm old, too. Not as old as Richard, mind you (thanks for being there for me, Richard), but not too far behind him, either. If the good Lord is willing, then I will be in four short years. And I sincerely hope to still be running, should I make it.

More bananas! More water!

So I ran six miles today. And then I've walked two miles to my favorite coffeeshop. Now I type. Presumably, I'll walk two miles to home when I'm done. I used to do a lot more walking, proud of my pedestrianism, but I've been a slacky head of late. It felt good. I could feel all of the muscles in my legs. I really should do it more. It's not hard.

Anyway, I sit and type and contemplate the things that might enable the, so far, elusive runner's high. Maybe I should pay more attention to my cravings and consume more potassium, H2O, iron, calcium and protein. It's true, I've had some strange pangs of late. Oh, and stop eating so damn much! I feel like I'm going to puke from indigestion every time I run.

Something's gotta give. Maybe it's my diet and maybe it's that...

Still in it

I've completed week #2. I did all the stuff. It took six days, but as we know, six days does not a week make. Yes, appropo of nothing, but fun just the same. Anyway, I shuffled my six miles today and it was ok. I'm glad that I did it. It started out cloudy and cold but dry this morning. By afternoon, it had cleared to that oh-so-welcome February sunshine; glaring and bright with hard shadows, but it probably didn't get above 50. Good enough for a good sweat, but not exactly springtime.

See below:

So, I'm in it, of course, but it still doesn't feel good. Hey, I don't mean to complain, mostly because I don't want to bring anyone down but I'm just getting through it. I've yet to hit that stride, relax, get and feel all loose-jointed and let my mind just let go to where you actually feel like you could run forever. It's not happening. But it will. I've been here before and I know that it will come. I was just hoping that it would be here by now.

None of that matters though, because I will be running my seven miles next Saturday in Brooktown, USA! Eat your hearts out :)

Slacky head

so i didn't run today because my knees hurt pretty bad, meaning i missed one of the three milers this week.

if anyone would like to either affirm that this was wise or hurl insults and tell me i may as well quit now (paddy ass!!!) they are welcome to do so.

you guys need to start posting again so i dont feel so lonesome.

Fun!

Anyone who is a childless housewife, particularly anyone who is an insomniac childless housewife, might enjoy this. I found the part about growing more microscopic capillaries was particularly inspiring.

I jogged six miles today in a 1.5 mile loop around a park. I almost made it a three-miler, but decided to just plow through, and my recompense was seeing a couple skipping down the trail, each holding one of their toddler's hands, swinging the kid and laughing. And, since the snow made it all the darlinger, I hated it less. Also I passed them. So I am faster than a skipping couple toting a toddler. At least I am faster than someone.

Speaking of faster, some military-looking guy passed me twice, which is kind of embarrassing on a 1.5 mile trail. Getting passed once, par for the course. Getting passed twice you have to consciously shake off.

Rah!

4 am is a great time to blog. so shut up.

here is the list erin mentioned, team. i recommend extra-long list making as a fun exercise, mainly because it's hard to come up with a hundred reasons to do anything, even things that seem like they lend themselves to profuse numbers of good reasons.

like eating right, for example.
1. feel better
2. look better
3. possibly not have a debilitating disease when i am sixty five
4. um...um...

see? fun! give it a try!

and, for heaven's sake, post it here so we can read it, not on your other blog, even if you have no material for your other blog because your brain is too consumed with the scope of its own insanity to think of anything clever to amuse your faithful blog-reading mom.

tug of war

I can suffer the time on the treadmill only if I can lose myself in limerick-writing mode and stare at my feet in the window. “Hey, that chick in the window is still running! You better not quit! Now what rhymes with salivate?” But yesterday I occupied myself with your predicament, Amy.

I think that people who have high expectations for themselves, combined with occasionally flagging confidence, (me, for example, and maybe you) can easily end up in bed -- miserable, death-wishy and inert at the possibility of less than perfect achievement.

And I think for me, this tends to happen in between having said I will do a thing, and really believing that I can do the thing. It’s a strange tug-of-war between confidence and doubt, because often the confidence ropes you into something HUGE that your doubt later decides is STUPID. But if you were realy stupid and lazy, then you would just be stupid and lazy and you wouldn’t have said you would do this hard thing. You also probably wouldn’t be in bed, depressed. I suspect that happens because you know you can do it. (There’s that mean old confidence, kicking you when you’re down.) But frankly you can’t understand why when that’s the case, you’re not doing it. Loser. (← doubt again)

Anyway I think the solution that your hubbie suggests is a good one. Because you don’t have to run a marathon that way. You only have to run sixteen times. It’s like giving up not running for Lent or something. And success breeds success in these things. However, I do think that after a month of success, you should commit to the marathon, and I think you’ll be able to. Because with enough mental practice and the necessary physical conditioning, the marathon is just one more run that you do because that’s what the schedule says to do.

Until you’re done, of course, and then you’re all, “Look at me. I’m awesome.” And if you’re like me, that will soon give way to, “Eh, it’s not that hard. Anyone could do it.” And then it’s three years later and you find yourself training for another stupid marathon to remind yourself that actually it’s really fucking hard. So I guess what I’m saying is, you can let the doubt tell you that you aren’t that awesome, but you should wait until you’ve proven to lots of other people that you are. Because they’ll remember, even when you don’t.

So that’s my (twenty six point) two cents. Sorry it’s so long. Not very bloggy. By the way, I love your list, Amy. You should cross-post it here so everyone can see.

Despite my complaining, I’ve been keeping to the schedge. (Pronounced skedge, unless you’re a Brit, govenuh.) I printed it out and taped it to my computer, and after each run I put a nice fat sharpie X through the number. It’s starting to look like progress. I hope everyone is feeling capable this week, because you are my pretties, you are. And around the end of week 2 is when I always start to feel a little bit more taut and athletic. I can’t wait.

Stupid snow is stupid.

Stupid treadmills are stupid too. Running is stupid.

Stupid.

The only way is up

Um. I have a little confession to make, which I am probably only making since Mike made it first and I think everyone still likes him...

I didn't run last week either.

In fact, I got slammed with the worst depression of my life. I missed church(this is a big deal for those of you who don't know me) because I was so sad, and I stayed home in bed . I have never stayed in bed due to being sad ever before. But my "you-suck-at-running-life-isn't-worth-living" voice was yelling so loud, I couldn't get a word in edgewise. I hope I can shake it, is all I'm saying. It's weird how your own brain will sabotage the hell out of you, when you were just trying to be nice to it.

Since I did the first two weeks of training, essentially, during the two weeks before the Actual Training began, I think I will, as you said, Mike, just jump in and hope for the best. My current plan, suggested by my concerned and very supportive spouse, is to commit (really, truly, genuinely) to the first month of training. Kind of the same brain game as telling yourself you just have to get to the end of the block, top of the hill, etc. when you actually have to run three more miles. So that's the plan for now. And I am anticipating unseasonably tolerable temperatures today (it was downright not freezing yesterday and melted most of the snowy ice death) so I will be running out in the elements. I am hoping for a good one.

In other news, my sister, upon hearing through the grapevine that my resolve was flagging before I even began training, approached me and asked if I would return her ipod, claiming that an average twenty year old does, in fact, require two ipods to make the day go by. I guess I'll have to figure out how to make the mp3 player on my phone play mp3's. Damn.

Carb Loading

Richard and I volunteered to pour beer at the annual KLCC microbrew festival which was held last night. Ostensibly, we're supporting public radio by donating our time. In reality, if you volunteer to pour beer for a happy crowd for 3 1/2 hours, then you get your glass for free. Pretty good deal, no? Well, we had the good fortune to be assigned to pour for the far and away hometown favorite, Ninkasi Brewing Co. If you're a Eugene SNOB (supporter of native Oregon beers), then you probably know Jamie and really like everything he makes. Ninkasi has been ubiquitous in Eugene establishments for most of the past 2 years, but every third person in line last night wanted to know when they were going to start bottling. You might be relieved to know that 'in about 3 weeks' is the blessed answer. Anyway, we performed our due diligence and then did our best to make the rounds, but since there were more than 150 beers, we kind of steered toward the unknown. Lesson? Beware: Chili beer could potentially ruin your appetite for more beer. I'm telling you, it was a close call.

Slipping Back In

I did my fiver yesterday. I won't kid ya, it was work. It hurt. I thought that I was in a pretty good position, training-wise, because I've been running more or less consistently, 3-5 miles, 2-3 times a week, since about August. Nothing serious and since I didn't have any fitness goals, I didn't really worry if I'd missed a week or two, and it usually felt pretty good so it was no big deal. In short, I thought I'd laid down a pretty good base.

But I confess, I ran three 8:00s on the treadmill two weeks ago and then hadn't done anything since. I don't really know where it came from, but I experienced a serial lack of motivation coinciding with the official start of training. Kind of bad timing, that. I did NOTHING all this week. Which can be difficult to recover from, given our schedule. But then...

For some unexplainable reason, I woke up at 5:30 yesterday morning. Not that I got up, but I was awake. And so feeling the combination of crushing guilt, a stirring of actual motivation and desire AND lacking anything better to do, I got up and committed my self to a five-mile run: you can't catch up, you can only jump in. And the being out in it wasn't even drudgery because it was a beautiful morning; like spring, really. It was sunny and mild, eventually reaching 60 blue-sky degrees in the afternoon. The running did hurt though. And in some unusual places, which I won't go into. But I think it was good. I think I needed it. The pain was its own kind of motivation insofar as, "see: you're really not in that great of shape, you really do need to take this seriously and do the stuff. Oh, and you should probably rearrange your schedule and do some other stuff, too, because I don't think that jogging alone is going to cut it."

Anyway, I hurt today, but in a good way. You know, that kind of pain that makes you just a little bit hungry for more? Well, it's like that. I'm not sure why, but it feels kind of good to know that I'm actually starting from square one. If I had to guess, I'd suppose that it's probably because it will be easier to measure progress. And I do like progress.

Beta Site?

I don't know, coach. What do you think?

Cheer Duty

"Running is the greatest metaphor for life, because you get out of it what you put into it. "
Oprah Winfrey

If you map your run in kilometers, it makes you feel like you've run further.

Rah! Rah! Rah!

the treadmill naysayer

So for all my big talk about the treadmill being not as good I ran my first official training miles on one. It was late, dark, raining, New York. I just didn't have the outdoors in me. And it was a horrible three miles. I don't know if my body is resisting cause it knows what I have planned for the next 16 weeks or what, but I hate hate hate running normal speed for three miles in the same place. I'm gonna try to save it for some speed work if I feel like it or in case the weather really gets desperate and dangerous, but otherwise it does not suit me. If it suits you, fine, good, whatever. Way better to run on the treadmill than not run. Michelle, I don't know if three days a week at longer distances is as good, but I trust that if you're cross-training and mentally prepared, you'll be fine that way for a few more weeks.

I'm not feeling that positive at the moment so if someone wants to take over cheer duty for the moment, feel free.

Garbage and treadmills

So I went on a lovely run along the Columbia River today. I got to see lots of geese (I guess that means spring is coming?) and two blue herons. I also saw trash everywhere. It was almost like the garbage trucks just dump their loads along the river after they pick it up from our houses. Okay, not that bad but you know what I mean. *sigh* With all the trash, you would have thought I would have seen some seagulls. Rant done...NOW!





So my run was a little further than the required 3 miles, but I didn't have a course with milage mapped out ahead of time and I saw a landmark in the distance, and decided to go for it. 4 runs may be hard for me to do in a week until the days start getting longer so I might be doing 3 longer runs for a few weeks instead of the prescibed 4. That okay Coach Erin?

Amy, Erin's advice about getting out to run instead of using a treadmill all the time is good, but if it is your only choice for now, there are just some things you can do to make your workout more like running in the great outdoors. If Christie Clark can win the US marathon trials by training almost solely on a treadmill, then so can we!