I've decided I need a camera. I read all of these blogs with great pictures and they are so much more FUN to read than my big ole blocks of text. Besides, how do you know I am running at all? I might just be blogging fictitiously in between Big Macs while I sit around in my underwear. I had a camera - admittedly it was 4 years old and already on its last legs - but it pooped out on me last Christmas. I'll have to get one before our cross-country road trip this summer. Just haven't figured out how..
Well even though I can't prove it, I did in fact run today. My longest run to date - in time and distance. I had heard through the Facebook grape-vine that a really good friend from back in the day just had a baby, so I decided to give my run a purpose. You see, Big_Shoes works at this wonderful little baby boutique called Magic Beans and since we obviously don't have much need for his 30% discount at this point in our lives, I'd never gotten around to checking it out.
After checking the route and distance and trying to convince myself I could run for 28 minutes straight, I took off. My legs were a bit stiff at first, and for a few minutes I felt an ache in the front of my left shin, but it seemed fade. My mental endurance seemed to come in waves. I'd start to get tired and think about slowing down but then I would reach the end of a leg and get a second wind. And a third wind. And a fourth wind. Eventually, I saw a big green building in front of me and knew I had made it. I pulled out my cell phone and saw my timer hit 28 minutes even just as I was slowing to a stop in front of the Magic Beans entry. Total Distance: 2.8 miles.
After Big_Shoes spent about 40 minutes showing me around and explaining how things work (I had no idea babies required so many accessories!!) I finally picked out an adorable soy-cloth onesie, a natural wood infant toy, and my favorite book of all time: The Giving Tree, by Shell Silverstein, which came with a free Book-on-Disc. Hopefully New Mama will enjoy, but either way I had a lot of fun picking it out! By the time I checked out and had everything gift-wrapped (for free!) Big_Shoes was clocking out and we took the bus home together.
All in all, a fun and productive Sunday. But I still have a ton of research and reading to do tonight if I'm going to make it through this week!
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Adventures as a Public Nuisance
Okay. I'll fess up. I've been a slacker. Sure, I could cite the days of pouring, miserable rain and hectic scheduling but we all know those would just be excuses to help myself feel better about my five-day hiatus. As a girl who was born and raised in Washington state, you'd think I'd be less of a pansy about running in the rain, but no. Maybe if I had some water-proof gear... Running in squishy shoes and soggy socks isn't fun for anyone.
Even though the weekend weather forecast wasn't looking much dryer, I promised myself I would get back on track, rain or shine. Somehow that promise managed to slip my mind after one too many screw-drivers on Friday night (did I mention it was a long week?). It's no surprise then that I woke up this "morning" mildly dehydrated with a well-deserved hangover. Running was the last thing on my mind.
But after three hours, two Aleve, four big glasses of water and choking down a few scrambled eggs I had begun to feel slightly less nauseated. With the daylight hours ticking by and snow flakes starting to fall, I realized that "slightly less nauseated" was probably as good as it was going to get. So I stumbled into my running clothes and wandered half-halfheartedly into the snow.
Just a couple minutes into my run a creepy man started running up behind me. I gave him a few quick side glances and picked up my pace to avoid him, but he started running even faster to catch up with me. Turns out creepy guy was, in fact, my very own Big_Shoes who had apparently decided at the last minute to join me on my run. I have a feeling he was a bit worried about my mental/physical state and thought he should keep an eye on me. That was probably a good idea.
Ten or twelve minutes into the run I noticed I started to feel a bit ... funny. At first I wondered if I had stumbled on to some new kind of runner's high or something, but then it finally occurred to me that I wasn't high ... I was DRUNK! Yes, thats right, DE-RRUNK. In PUHB-LIK. I'm no doctor, but my best explanation would be that the increase in blood pressure probably caused a quick and sudden circulation of the small amount of alcohol that was left in my body. Luckily, there wasn't much left in my system so after slowing to a walk for a few minutes the feeling past and we were able to keep running.
Even after I redeemed myself, it wasn't the best run in the world. It was snowing pretty good and our clothes were soaked. I definitely did not get in 28 minutes of consecutive running that the C25K program requires, but I did accomplish much more than sitting in the dark on my couch all day, which is my usual strategy nursing a hangover. And it inspired me to get back on track and give it another (sober) go tomorrow.
Yeah so anyway. Full steam ahead.
Even though the weekend weather forecast wasn't looking much dryer, I promised myself I would get back on track, rain or shine. Somehow that promise managed to slip my mind after one too many screw-drivers on Friday night (did I mention it was a long week?). It's no surprise then that I woke up this "morning" mildly dehydrated with a well-deserved hangover. Running was the last thing on my mind.
But after three hours, two Aleve, four big glasses of water and choking down a few scrambled eggs I had begun to feel slightly less nauseated. With the daylight hours ticking by and snow flakes starting to fall, I realized that "slightly less nauseated" was probably as good as it was going to get. So I stumbled into my running clothes and wandered half-halfheartedly into the snow.
Just a couple minutes into my run a creepy man started running up behind me. I gave him a few quick side glances and picked up my pace to avoid him, but he started running even faster to catch up with me. Turns out creepy guy was, in fact, my very own Big_Shoes who had apparently decided at the last minute to join me on my run. I have a feeling he was a bit worried about my mental/physical state and thought he should keep an eye on me. That was probably a good idea.
Ten or twelve minutes into the run I noticed I started to feel a bit ... funny. At first I wondered if I had stumbled on to some new kind of runner's high or something, but then it finally occurred to me that I wasn't high ... I was DRUNK! Yes, thats right, DE-RRUNK. In PUHB-LIK. I'm no doctor, but my best explanation would be that the increase in blood pressure probably caused a quick and sudden circulation of the small amount of alcohol that was left in my body. Luckily, there wasn't much left in my system so after slowing to a walk for a few minutes the feeling past and we were able to keep running.
Even after I redeemed myself, it wasn't the best run in the world. It was snowing pretty good and our clothes were soaked. I definitely did not get in 28 minutes of consecutive running that the C25K program requires, but I did accomplish much more than sitting in the dark on my couch all day, which is my usual strategy nursing a hangover. And it inspired me to get back on track and give it another (sober) go tomorrow.
Yeah so anyway. Full steam ahead.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Elusive Equilibrium
Three runs down, one more to go before I give myself a much needed day of reprieve. I finished my long Week 6 run today, and surprisingly I found it easier than the Day 2 run I did yesterday with Big_Shoes. Something about stopping for three minutes in the middle really messed up my tempo, and Big_Shoes had to really push me to finish the second 10 minutes. Today, I ran 25 minutes (2.69 miles) by myself with no problem.
Part of the difference, I think, was that I just truly needed my run today. For myself. I woke up this morning to a pile of emails that included several from my boss. I had made an error on the website for work, and although it was a simple misunderstanding on my part, it apparently caused a lot of commotion. After reading the emails, realizing my mistake, and knowing there was nothing I could do from home on a Sunday, I felt a surge of panic. I have never been one to carry around a lot of anxiety, but since starting my Master's program (in a new city, 3,000 miles away) these little private moments of panic have seemed much more frequent. There are a lot of people putting their eggs in my basket. And then every so often it hits me that I have more on my plate than I can possibly accomplish and rather than just concentrating on checking one thing off my list at a time, like I would normally do, I just seem to become paralyzed with fear and guilt. These periods of stagnation - sometimes minutes, sometimes hours, sometimes days - only exasperate the problem. In the last couple of weeks, the side-affect of all of this (besides an ever-growing pile of things to do) has been the return of stress-induced headaches that I have always been prone to but have been under control for the past three years.
So you see, I really needed this run. Running didn't do the dishes, write my paper, fix the website, or get me back in my boss's good graces. but it did give me a chance to breathe. And dammit, that's important too, right? I find that I am constantly trying to find this mythical balance between who I am, who I want to be, and who I am supposed to be, but balance - like happiness - is not an achievement, it is a moment in time. And whatever is perfectly balanced, will always come unbalanced again. I just need to convince my inner self that that. is. okay. The world will not end if I let one ball drop. Or three. Or four.
Running is, by far, the most selfish thing that I do at this moment, and I really do believe that everyone should be truly, unabashedly selfish for at least a few minutes in every day. I used to paint, and I loved it. I could follow whatever whim I felt like following and I didn't have to end up at any predetermined outcome. It was purely and luxuriously selfish. But I have not had the space, time, or funds to paint in a long time. Running is the closest I have come to regaining my sense of self that I have when painting. The equilibrium that is so elusive in life is so easy to find out on that bike trail. For a few minutes, everything seems perfectly simple, and there is only one direction to go and only one way to get there. And even when I go home, and back to my fears and problems, even the chaos that is my inbox is somehow less intimidating, and I can suddenly handle not having everything under control. Of course, this too is only a moment in time, not a permanent, achieved state. All the more reason to go running again tomorrow.
Part of the difference, I think, was that I just truly needed my run today. For myself. I woke up this morning to a pile of emails that included several from my boss. I had made an error on the website for work, and although it was a simple misunderstanding on my part, it apparently caused a lot of commotion. After reading the emails, realizing my mistake, and knowing there was nothing I could do from home on a Sunday, I felt a surge of panic. I have never been one to carry around a lot of anxiety, but since starting my Master's program (in a new city, 3,000 miles away) these little private moments of panic have seemed much more frequent. There are a lot of people putting their eggs in my basket. And then every so often it hits me that I have more on my plate than I can possibly accomplish and rather than just concentrating on checking one thing off my list at a time, like I would normally do, I just seem to become paralyzed with fear and guilt. These periods of stagnation - sometimes minutes, sometimes hours, sometimes days - only exasperate the problem. In the last couple of weeks, the side-affect of all of this (besides an ever-growing pile of things to do) has been the return of stress-induced headaches that I have always been prone to but have been under control for the past three years.
So you see, I really needed this run. Running didn't do the dishes, write my paper, fix the website, or get me back in my boss's good graces. but it did give me a chance to breathe. And dammit, that's important too, right? I find that I am constantly trying to find this mythical balance between who I am, who I want to be, and who I am supposed to be, but balance - like happiness - is not an achievement, it is a moment in time. And whatever is perfectly balanced, will always come unbalanced again. I just need to convince my inner self that that. is. okay. The world will not end if I let one ball drop. Or three. Or four.
Running is, by far, the most selfish thing that I do at this moment, and I really do believe that everyone should be truly, unabashedly selfish for at least a few minutes in every day. I used to paint, and I loved it. I could follow whatever whim I felt like following and I didn't have to end up at any predetermined outcome. It was purely and luxuriously selfish. But I have not had the space, time, or funds to paint in a long time. Running is the closest I have come to regaining my sense of self that I have when painting. The equilibrium that is so elusive in life is so easy to find out on that bike trail. For a few minutes, everything seems perfectly simple, and there is only one direction to go and only one way to get there. And even when I go home, and back to my fears and problems, even the chaos that is my inbox is somehow less intimidating, and I can suddenly handle not having everything under control. Of course, this too is only a moment in time, not a permanent, achieved state. All the more reason to go running again tomorrow.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Four in a Row and a Pouch to Go
So since I have yet to save up enough money to get fitted for running shoes, I decided to reward myself with the next best thing: One of these!I found this pouch on Tall Mom's blog, who just happens to be doing an awesome giveaway featuring this and a few other awesome products. Alas, I am too lazy to jump through the hoops to win hers, so I went and bought my own. Being the fiscally conscious individual that I am, of course, I Googled to find a coupon code for $1.00 off, (I do this for EVERYTHING, by the way) which brought my grand total to $5.48, including shipping. A bit of a splurge, perhaps, but I'm tired of trying to store my house key and bus pass in my bra, glove, or the bottom of my shoe. Compared to these sweaty alternatives, the Shoe Pouch will be much more safe and SANITARY.
You'd think that since I have enough time to surf the bloggosphere for cool gear that I can convince myself I need, that I would find more time to run on my week off. Not the case. Well, the time was there, I guess. But everything else managed to get in the way. On Monday I had one of those nasty hangovers that drag on all day. My head was killing me and I was pretty dehydrated so I decided to wait it out and hold off on my run. Perfectly acceptable, I tell myself. I'll definitely run tomorrow.
Tomorrow comes, and I wake up, put my running clothes on, tie my shoes, and then notice that within the ten minutes it took me to do those things it has begun to snow pretty hard. A storm was in the forecast but I decide to go out anyway and hope to beat it. How much snow could possibly fall in the 30 minutes it takes me to run anyway?
A lot.
Five minutes in and I could barely see in front of me, the sidewalks were covered and my feet were soaked. Miserable and grouchy, I looped back and jogged home. The entire outing was about ten minutes. Barely enough to get my blood pumping in those temperatures.
Fast forward to today - the sun was shining and the sidewalks had finally cleared enough for me to get my Week 6, Run 1 in. It was a good run, but my legs felt excruciatingly slow. I attribute that to the six-days of laziness/bad weather that kept me sitting on my ass for most of a week and skipping breakfast this morning. To get back on track (and get the most out of my last few days "off") I plan to run tomorrow and Sunday as well. Which basically means I'll be squeezing Week 6 into three days, and starting Week 7 on Monday. Much more intense than any running schedule I've been doing thus far.
This little plan of mine could go one of two ways. In the first scenario, I enjoy all four runs, improve my time, and get back on track with my regular running schedule. In the second, I get completely burnt out from running, have the worst W6D3 run of my life, and skip out on the fourth day, putting myself even farther behind schedule. Only one way to find out - I'll check back in Sunday to let you know how it goes. Assuming, of course, I can make it to my computer at that point.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Post-Run Rewind
Week 5 is officially behind me. Even more exciting, however, is that I can now say, for the first time in my life, that I have ran over 2 miles, without stopping. One more "mile"-stone to go before I'll be running in my first 5k. My pace averages out to 11:00, which I perceive to be excruciatingly slow. But for the moment I am determined to bask in the glow of finishing, and resolve to worry about my time later on.
Here's a play-by-play of yesterday's run for the folks following along at home:
30 minutes pre-run: Mmm.. Big_Shoes made cinnamon rolls for breakfast. Maybe not the best energy source for a run, but too gooey and delicious to pass up..
10 minutes pre-run: Instead of getting my running shoes on, I plop down on the couch to snuggle with Big_Shoes. Being the romantic guy he is, he pushes me away and tells me to quit procrastinating and get my ass out the door. Then he adds a quick "Good luck, babe! I know you can do this!" just to soften the blow.
1 minute in: walking down my street, trying to look nonchalant and ignoring the butterflies in my stomach (unclear if said butterflies were the results of nervous energy or lingering remnants from that morning's slight hangover).
3 minutes in: Set alarm on phone to go off in exactly 22 minutes. Not that I was going to just lose track of time and run longer than I planned. Extremely unlikely. No, I set the alarm so that I wouldn't be as tempted to check the time constantly, which always seems to make the minutes tick by slower.
5 minutes in: Walking warm-up over. Took a deep breath and got going before I had a chance to think too much about it.
7 minutes in: Beginnings of a side-stitch. After making a brief mental note of the bad omen just 2 minutes into my run, I concentrate on taking deep regular breaths and keep going.
13 minutes in: At this point, I had been running for 8 minutes - which was previously my longest stretch. I still felt good, but I had the sneaking suspicion that it was all down-hill from there (Unfortunately, this meant down hill in a figurative sense, not a literal one).
15 minutes in: Ten minutes to go, and it feels like a lifetime. At this point I realize that I am not going to make it the full 20 minutes. Instead, I settle on seeing just how long I CAN go. Every minute is a tiny success.
19 minutes in: A can hear the even-paced footsteps and calm breathing of a "real" runner coming up behind me. Not to be outdone, I pick up my feet, lengthen my stride and pretend like I know what I'm doing. "Oh, this little run? It's nothing. I'm just out enjoying the scenery and freezing cold temperatures. Did I mention my lungs are so not burning right now?"
19 minutes and 15 seconds in: Outdone. The real runner whizzes by me in a neon yellow jacket. I quickly revise my plan and create a new goal to make sure I keep Real Runner in my "line of sight" .
22 minutes in: Despite my best efforts, Real Runner soon becomes a tiny yellow speck disappearing over the horizon. Feeling discouraged, but after checking my time I decide there is no way in hell I am stopping with 3 puny minutes to go. I smile because at this point I know I've already done it. I can do three minutes. In fact, I don't even notice those minutes go by.
24 minutes and 49 seconds in: Doubting my resolve, I go for my cell phone to check the time. It can't be that much longer, can it?? Just as I go to look at the screen I hear the happy little jingle of my alarm. Victory bells. My lungs thank me as I slow to a walk and head toward the train station.
And now I'm off to the drug store to find an over-priced, cheesy card for my valentine. Looking forward to buying some ridiculously discounted chocolate tomorrow!
Here's a play-by-play of yesterday's run for the folks following along at home:
30 minutes pre-run: Mmm.. Big_Shoes made cinnamon rolls for breakfast. Maybe not the best energy source for a run, but too gooey and delicious to pass up..
10 minutes pre-run: Instead of getting my running shoes on, I plop down on the couch to snuggle with Big_Shoes. Being the romantic guy he is, he pushes me away and tells me to quit procrastinating and get my ass out the door. Then he adds a quick "Good luck, babe! I know you can do this!" just to soften the blow.
1 minute in: walking down my street, trying to look nonchalant and ignoring the butterflies in my stomach (unclear if said butterflies were the results of nervous energy or lingering remnants from that morning's slight hangover).
3 minutes in: Set alarm on phone to go off in exactly 22 minutes. Not that I was going to just lose track of time and run longer than I planned. Extremely unlikely. No, I set the alarm so that I wouldn't be as tempted to check the time constantly, which always seems to make the minutes tick by slower.
5 minutes in: Walking warm-up over. Took a deep breath and got going before I had a chance to think too much about it.
7 minutes in: Beginnings of a side-stitch. After making a brief mental note of the bad omen just 2 minutes into my run, I concentrate on taking deep regular breaths and keep going.
13 minutes in: At this point, I had been running for 8 minutes - which was previously my longest stretch. I still felt good, but I had the sneaking suspicion that it was all down-hill from there (Unfortunately, this meant down hill in a figurative sense, not a literal one).
15 minutes in: Ten minutes to go, and it feels like a lifetime. At this point I realize that I am not going to make it the full 20 minutes. Instead, I settle on seeing just how long I CAN go. Every minute is a tiny success.
19 minutes in: A can hear the even-paced footsteps and calm breathing of a "real" runner coming up behind me. Not to be outdone, I pick up my feet, lengthen my stride and pretend like I know what I'm doing. "Oh, this little run? It's nothing. I'm just out enjoying the scenery and freezing cold temperatures. Did I mention my lungs are so not burning right now?"
19 minutes and 15 seconds in: Outdone. The real runner whizzes by me in a neon yellow jacket. I quickly revise my plan and create a new goal to make sure I keep Real Runner in my "line of sight" .
22 minutes in: Despite my best efforts, Real Runner soon becomes a tiny yellow speck disappearing over the horizon. Feeling discouraged, but after checking my time I decide there is no way in hell I am stopping with 3 puny minutes to go. I smile because at this point I know I've already done it. I can do three minutes. In fact, I don't even notice those minutes go by.
24 minutes and 49 seconds in: Doubting my resolve, I go for my cell phone to check the time. It can't be that much longer, can it?? Just as I go to look at the screen I hear the happy little jingle of my alarm. Victory bells. My lungs thank me as I slow to a walk and head toward the train station.
And now I'm off to the drug store to find an over-priced, cheesy card for my valentine. Looking forward to buying some ridiculously discounted chocolate tomorrow!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Let hibernation-mode commence!
It didn't look good when I crawled out of bed this morning. The blue emergency snow lights about town were already blinking and weather.com somewhat ambiguously declared that there was a high possibility that there might be some snow within the next hour. After that, the hour-by-hour table pictures cute little snow flakes for the rest of the day (and night). I knew a storm was on its way, but from my apartment windows it didn't seem all that intimidating. Just a handful of flurries here and there. So I decided to give it a go while the option was still there. And I'm glad I did!
I got in the full run, plus an extra 15 minute walk, just for kicks (okay.. fine. I got lost again and had to wander my way home). The first eight minutes was surprisingly easy, and I was thrilled at my progress until I hit the next 8 minute stretch, which had me considering turning back about 45 seconds in. Miraculously, I got through the whole run no worse for wear, although the snow was beginning to come down a bit more noticeably by then.
Fast forward six hours later and the snow is coming down in horizontal sheets outside of my window. No, wait - I stand corrected, the snow is actually falling UP now. These aren't the cute, friendly flakes they show on weather.com either. More like the vicious, slap-you-in-the-face and take-an-eye-out variety. Looks like it's going to be a doozy, but that's fine with me. I got my run in, we have plenty of hot cocoa (although I may need to make a trip out for some peppermint schnapps), heat is included in the rent, and groceries are being delivered this weekend. Did I mention I also have all of next week off, for some unfathomable reason? Seems like classes just started, but I'm not one to complain. So bring on the snow. I'm already hyperventilating a bit about my next 20-minute run (what C25K guru thought it would be a good idea to go from 8 minutes to 20!?) so I could probably use a few days to mull it over and try to talk myself into it.
Anyway, it's Wednesday, which means I've got to go make sure I have everything to make up a delicious batch of blueberry banana waffles! It's okay to be jealous. Really.
I got in the full run, plus an extra 15 minute walk, just for kicks (okay.. fine. I got lost again and had to wander my way home). The first eight minutes was surprisingly easy, and I was thrilled at my progress until I hit the next 8 minute stretch, which had me considering turning back about 45 seconds in. Miraculously, I got through the whole run no worse for wear, although the snow was beginning to come down a bit more noticeably by then.
Fast forward six hours later and the snow is coming down in horizontal sheets outside of my window. No, wait - I stand corrected, the snow is actually falling UP now. These aren't the cute, friendly flakes they show on weather.com either. More like the vicious, slap-you-in-the-face and take-an-eye-out variety. Looks like it's going to be a doozy, but that's fine with me. I got my run in, we have plenty of hot cocoa (although I may need to make a trip out for some peppermint schnapps), heat is included in the rent, and groceries are being delivered this weekend. Did I mention I also have all of next week off, for some unfathomable reason? Seems like classes just started, but I'm not one to complain. So bring on the snow. I'm already hyperventilating a bit about my next 20-minute run (what C25K guru thought it would be a good idea to go from 8 minutes to 20!?) so I could probably use a few days to mull it over and try to talk myself into it.
Anyway, it's Wednesday, which means I've got to go make sure I have everything to make up a delicious batch of blueberry banana waffles! It's okay to be jealous. Really.
Monday, February 8, 2010
When "Just Do it" just ain't doing it for you
Great run today. Week 5 is off to a good start. The sun shining in through my window convinced me to go without a jacket, just a T-shirt, light sweatshirt, leggings, gloves and my fleece headband. I regretted my decision for the first ten minutes, but then warmed up so much I was thankful I didn't have any other layers to sweat through. The program called for three 5 minute runs, with three minute intervals of walking, but I surprised myself and actually added a fourth run, in the interest of getting home early enough to take a nice long shower.
All in all, it was a fantastic and energizing run - but it almost didn't happen. I almost convinced myself to stay inside and avoid the freezing temperatures all together. I had plenty of reading to do, and a number of other plausible excuses that could have allowed me to stay holed up in my apartment guilt free, until my 1:40 class. Obviously, there must have been some serious source of motivation that got me out the door; some mantra that I repeated over and over to fight back the inherent laziness and just make me WANT to run. Right?
Nope. Didn't happen.
So what's my secret then? Well here it is. Write it down: Procrastination. In other words, I just kept putting off the decision not to run until I found myself dressed, out the door, and half way through my five-minute warm-up walk. Rather than berating or negotiating with myself every time the thought of skipping a run enters my head, I just put the thought to the side and tell myself I'll think about it later. See, I know myself, and the one thing that I've learned is that I just cannot win an argument with myself (Big_Shoes has yet to come to this realization, but he will get there). No amount of logic or inspirational quotes or personal pep-talks is going to work if I don't want to go, so I've stopped trying. I just put the decision off until I am literally at the very moment where I must either run, or turn around and go home. At that point, my ego usually takes over and demands that my ass get going, lest some mysterious onlooker realize that I was only outside of my apartment for 30 seconds before heading back with my tail between my legs. I'd say this works about 87 percent of the time. But in the 13 percent where I legitimately still do not want to run, I turn around and go home. It's that easy.
I think I do the same thing on my runs, when I look down at my cell phone and realize what felt like 7 minutes of running has, in fact, only been two. I don't eliminate the possibility of stopping early, but I don't make an immediate decision either. I just temporarily store it on my mental "To Do" list and keep going. Again, 87 percent of the time, by the time I get back to it, another 2 minutes has already passed and it just makes sense to keep going.
Procrastination gets a bad rap in general, and particularly in the exercise/healthy living community. But hey, for those of us who are natural procrastinators, the infamously annoying "Just Do It" catch phrase isn't going to cut it. So why not flip the negative connotation of procrastination on its head and turn it into a resourceful strategy? I mean, hey, it has worked pretty well for every term paper I have ever written (or, at least 87 percent of them...) and I pull damn decent grades, while simultaneously mastering the life skill of pulling an all-nighter. In all seriousness, at the very least my procrastination habit has taught me to work extremely well under pressure. So where's the harm?
Don't knock it til you've tried it, folks. Procrastination can be a beautiful thing.
All in all, it was a fantastic and energizing run - but it almost didn't happen. I almost convinced myself to stay inside and avoid the freezing temperatures all together. I had plenty of reading to do, and a number of other plausible excuses that could have allowed me to stay holed up in my apartment guilt free, until my 1:40 class. Obviously, there must have been some serious source of motivation that got me out the door; some mantra that I repeated over and over to fight back the inherent laziness and just make me WANT to run. Right?
Nope. Didn't happen.
So what's my secret then? Well here it is. Write it down: Procrastination. In other words, I just kept putting off the decision not to run until I found myself dressed, out the door, and half way through my five-minute warm-up walk. Rather than berating or negotiating with myself every time the thought of skipping a run enters my head, I just put the thought to the side and tell myself I'll think about it later. See, I know myself, and the one thing that I've learned is that I just cannot win an argument with myself (Big_Shoes has yet to come to this realization, but he will get there). No amount of logic or inspirational quotes or personal pep-talks is going to work if I don't want to go, so I've stopped trying. I just put the decision off until I am literally at the very moment where I must either run, or turn around and go home. At that point, my ego usually takes over and demands that my ass get going, lest some mysterious onlooker realize that I was only outside of my apartment for 30 seconds before heading back with my tail between my legs. I'd say this works about 87 percent of the time. But in the 13 percent where I legitimately still do not want to run, I turn around and go home. It's that easy.
I think I do the same thing on my runs, when I look down at my cell phone and realize what felt like 7 minutes of running has, in fact, only been two. I don't eliminate the possibility of stopping early, but I don't make an immediate decision either. I just temporarily store it on my mental "To Do" list and keep going. Again, 87 percent of the time, by the time I get back to it, another 2 minutes has already passed and it just makes sense to keep going.
Procrastination gets a bad rap in general, and particularly in the exercise/healthy living community. But hey, for those of us who are natural procrastinators, the infamously annoying "Just Do It" catch phrase isn't going to cut it. So why not flip the negative connotation of procrastination on its head and turn it into a resourceful strategy? I mean, hey, it has worked pretty well for every term paper I have ever written (or, at least 87 percent of them...) and I pull damn decent grades, while simultaneously mastering the life skill of pulling an all-nighter. In all seriousness, at the very least my procrastination habit has taught me to work extremely well under pressure. So where's the harm?
Don't knock it til you've tried it, folks. Procrastination can be a beautiful thing.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Have it my way, you say?
My. ass. hurts. so. bad.
I have no idea why, I haven't added any new hills or anything. So what gives? Maybe its the feeling of my newly-awakened ass muscles fighting back against gravitational forces ... and the brownies I made the other night. Let's hope so. Anyway, let's put that topic "behind" us for a moment (hehehe... I really could not help myself).
Week four is complete and the infamous week five is officially underway. While I'm happy to know that I am half way through the program and towards my first running-related goal, the thought of Week five makes me want to hide under my covers and pretend like I've never owned a pair of running shoes in my life. For one, each day in Week 5 is a new workout, which means I won't even have a chance to get slip into my oh-so-familiar comfort zone. Add on top of that a final workout that includes 20 minutes of non-stop running, and the self-doubt really starts to creep in. Luckily I have a couple days to let that really sink in before I give it my best go.
Today's final Week 4 run ended up being surprisingly entertaining. Big_Shoes joined me, and since we had spent the entire morning cleaning our apartment, we decided to make our run to Target to pick up a new three-basket laundry hamper and some other essentials. The run was great, although frigid and a bit shorter than I would have liked. I've finally come to the conclusion that I need to track routes that are at least 3.5 miles or so in order to get the full run in, so I guess I need to scout out some places to go that are a bit off my beaten track. Can I just say that is has literally been MONTHS since I have been in a chain store that did not sell just groceries? It was a total culture shock. I wanted everything. Yes, everything. I had almost forgotten what that feels like. Luckily for my bank account we managed to check out with a total of four items, despite wandering around all googly eyed for over and hour.
So after our exciting excursion, both of our stomachs are grumbling, and where do we decide to go for lunch? Burger King. Yes, I said it - Burger King. Big_Shoes keeps insisting that my eating habits are depriving him of his beloved dead cow flesh, and we hadn't eaten fast food for several months (September or so?) so I let him "have it his way", if you will. Strangest thing, while sitting in the ridiculously crowded restaurant, we actually met a family from our home state, and the father had actually gone to school at our Alma Mater (we were wearing matching sweatshirts), and grew up just blocks from where we had lived! This coincidence becomes bizarre when you consider that said Burger King is 3,000 miles away from our respective home towns. Small world, much? Anyway, with stomachs full and merchandise in hand, we decided to take the bus home. To make up for my short run and warm myself up while waiting for the bus, I took a quick run around the block while Big_Shoes dutifully waited with our bags.
Enough of that. Let's get back to talking about my ass. Or asses in general, perhaps? I had the unfortunate occasion to stumble on to a blog post that discussed the issue of... well... pooing while running. Considering my intestinal challenges last week, I thought the post might be relevant, so I decided to read on. Come to find out, it is common running knowledge that many long-distant runners pee/poop themselves on the run during races? In order to not loose the 60-seconds or so it would take to make it to the nearest HoneyBucket? Okay, I admit my tiny successes with the C25K program have placed a few vague dreams of future marathon races in my head, but this little "nugget" of knowledge reminds me that I am just not that committed. I'd take the minute or two hit on my time long before I'd run with a squishy accident sloshing around in my Depends.
Just more profound proof that I am not the "true" runner. Then again, if pooing my pants is a requirement for such distinction, I'll glady claim my poser title.
I have no idea why, I haven't added any new hills or anything. So what gives? Maybe its the feeling of my newly-awakened ass muscles fighting back against gravitational forces ... and the brownies I made the other night. Let's hope so. Anyway, let's put that topic "behind" us for a moment (hehehe... I really could not help myself).
Week four is complete and the infamous week five is officially underway. While I'm happy to know that I am half way through the program and towards my first running-related goal, the thought of Week five makes me want to hide under my covers and pretend like I've never owned a pair of running shoes in my life. For one, each day in Week 5 is a new workout, which means I won't even have a chance to get slip into my oh-so-familiar comfort zone. Add on top of that a final workout that includes 20 minutes of non-stop running, and the self-doubt really starts to creep in. Luckily I have a couple days to let that really sink in before I give it my best go.
Today's final Week 4 run ended up being surprisingly entertaining. Big_Shoes joined me, and since we had spent the entire morning cleaning our apartment, we decided to make our run to Target to pick up a new three-basket laundry hamper and some other essentials. The run was great, although frigid and a bit shorter than I would have liked. I've finally come to the conclusion that I need to track routes that are at least 3.5 miles or so in order to get the full run in, so I guess I need to scout out some places to go that are a bit off my beaten track. Can I just say that is has literally been MONTHS since I have been in a chain store that did not sell just groceries? It was a total culture shock. I wanted everything. Yes, everything. I had almost forgotten what that feels like. Luckily for my bank account we managed to check out with a total of four items, despite wandering around all googly eyed for over and hour.
So after our exciting excursion, both of our stomachs are grumbling, and where do we decide to go for lunch? Burger King. Yes, I said it - Burger King. Big_Shoes keeps insisting that my eating habits are depriving him of his beloved dead cow flesh, and we hadn't eaten fast food for several months (September or so?) so I let him "have it his way", if you will. Strangest thing, while sitting in the ridiculously crowded restaurant, we actually met a family from our home state, and the father had actually gone to school at our Alma Mater (we were wearing matching sweatshirts), and grew up just blocks from where we had lived! This coincidence becomes bizarre when you consider that said Burger King is 3,000 miles away from our respective home towns. Small world, much? Anyway, with stomachs full and merchandise in hand, we decided to take the bus home. To make up for my short run and warm myself up while waiting for the bus, I took a quick run around the block while Big_Shoes dutifully waited with our bags.
Enough of that. Let's get back to talking about my ass. Or asses in general, perhaps? I had the unfortunate occasion to stumble on to a blog post that discussed the issue of... well... pooing while running. Considering my intestinal challenges last week, I thought the post might be relevant, so I decided to read on. Come to find out, it is common running knowledge that many long-distant runners pee/poop themselves on the run during races? In order to not loose the 60-seconds or so it would take to make it to the nearest HoneyBucket? Okay, I admit my tiny successes with the C25K program have placed a few vague dreams of future marathon races in my head, but this little "nugget" of knowledge reminds me that I am just not that committed. I'd take the minute or two hit on my time long before I'd run with a squishy accident sloshing around in my Depends.
Just more profound proof that I am not the "true" runner. Then again, if pooing my pants is a requirement for such distinction, I'll glady claim my poser title.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Defeat: a feat in of itself
The human spirit is never finished when it is defeated. It is finished when it surrenders." - Ben Stein
My success last weekend has been tempered by a particularly dreadful run today. It took everything I had just to get out of my apartment - a full hour late. First I had to respond to a series of frantic emails in my inbox, then I couldn't find my key, and the moment I finally was ready to go, my cat decided to knock down a pitcher of water across the living room floor. A lovely start, to be sure ...
Even though I was running seriously behind schedule, I decided to try and get my full run in anyway. This had less to do with inner determination and personal motivation and more to do with the two checks I had in my pocket that desperately needed to be deposited. So I took off in the direction of my bank. Little did I know that the slight intestinal grumblings of my stomach this morning would have major implications for my run. By the time I had gotten to the bank I was seriously uncomfortable. But with my only other option being a trip to the sketchy public subway restrooms, I decided to just run home. Easier said then done. For some reason, I could not for the life of me find the route I took to get home! I wandered around for 20 minutes before stumbling across the obscure side road that had been my route. I've always been skeptical of the constant influx of new gadgets and high-tech devices that promote dependency and rampant consumerism, but at that moment I really wanted one of those GPS "aps" on my cell phone. Alas, all my flimsy phone is capable of is telling time and making phone calls...
Anyway, now running an hour and half behind, with my pace seriously impaired due to stomach cramps and completely drained of all my artificially optimistic standbys, all I was thinking about was how defeated I felt. It didn't help that by the time I got home, I was in such a rush to shower and get ready for my TAship that I missed my bus and ended up walking the entire way in less-than-ideal walking shoes.
By the time I got home at 4:30, I felt entirely defeated by the misfortune of my day. It wasn't until about 20 minutes or so into my pity party that I started to realize that even though my day felt defeating, I had not actually been defeated. I had, in fact, finished my run. I even added an extra mile and a half by walking to campus. And even though the day did not play out like I had so carefully planned it in my head, I still accomplished every task that I had set out to do. Even as my mind was ready to give up on today, my body just kept going, reminding me once again that my limbs and my lungs are far more powerful than my conscious mind gives them credit for. What felt to me like defeat and hopelessness, was actually strength and endurance. Funny how it is so easy to confuse the two categories. So perhaps instead of lamenting my own bad luck, I can learn to use this "crappy day" to appreciate my own body's capacity to reach beyond my own goals and find something more meaningful than I could have thought to imagine. Who knows? Maybe four miles of running/walking discomfort today will eventually give me the strength I need to finish the first mile of my first 5k, or someday even that last mile of a marathon. Someday.
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