Category: Running

Balance Better Than Juggle

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I have been in the practice of balance lately. I could say I’m juggling work, yoga, running, and home life, but the word ‘juggle’ implies trouble. I prefer balance.

  • Work has me frustrated because while the winds of change blow I’m the only one buckling down to face the inclement weather. Everyone else is bellyaching about bad reviews. Blahblahblah.
  • Yoga has been all about balance, figuratively & literally. My knee is bothering me so I’m shaky on some of the standing balancing poses. I’m trying to reach with my eyes closed. I want to feel my center rather than force it into being. The other balancing act is making sure yoga is In The Day, everyday. I have been practicing for 24 days straight and some days it’s harder than others to fit it in. Harder than I would like. Truthfully, two of my sessions this week have been 5 minutes at a time. It feels like cheating. I’m looking forward to Thursday because hopefully an hour session will balance out the shorter ones.
  • Running. Last night we went back to the Gerbil Cage. For some reason I wasn’t in the mood to push for speed. Maybe it was the knee. It could be the knee. I’m sure it’s the knee because it’s a new knee pain. At any rate, I tried for balance. After the warm up I ran an 11 minute mile & I tried closing my eyes every so often. It sounds corny to say it now, but I wanted to be one with the treadmill. I wanted to bind myself to the plastic, rubber and metal. To really own it. I once saw trainers run backwards on a treadmill and I want that kind of ownership. I want that comfort level. Closing my eyes helped me feel what I was running on rather than where I was not going. Bottom line: 2.9 in 35 minutes.
  • Home Life. I think BubbleGum has a song about HomeLife. In a live version he says, “hold up – hold up. I’m about to tell the truth here…” and it sets me smiling. My truth. I have been a cooking fiend lately and I’ve had consultation work – two weeks worth- out of the blue. I’m loving every minute of the home life; it’s got me busy, but something’s missing. My friends. I want to sit with RG and just talk, maybe try that pigeon pose while we’re at it. I want to compare burnt tongues with A. I want to giggle over ‘Sex & the City’ with SB. I want to compare running stories with RC. I want SB2 to sniff my wrist and tell me the scent is too sweet for someone as bitter as I can be. I want to come face to face with P and know that she is as sweet in person as she is in print. I want to hang out with M and watch G entertain with talent. I want RC2 to tell me again how innocent she is not. I haven’t been to the movies. I’m tied up in books. I want a haircut. I don’t need a raincoat. I need balance.

Look Revisited

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Look

I ran again yesterday. Outside. Don’t ask me how cold it was because I’m really not sure. I do know that the wind brought tears to my eyes and spit froze at the corners of my mouth. At first I thought I was stupid for wearing just a sirsy sweatshirt and UnderArmor for heat but it worked out. My head should have held a hat, though. Sad, because I have one just for this sort of outdoor thing. I don’t know what made me do it, but when I stepped out the door I decided to revisit Look. I have a prejudice against the place just because I can remember the very instance I felt my knee twinge in that park. I can see the exact piece of parking lot where I felt the pain. Unbeknown to me, Look has become my nemesis. My theater of pain. To ward off the jinx I ran in the opposite loop I’m used to. It felt like cheating because duck pond hill was on the down this way. I told myself it was too cold to fool around with remorse.

Why is it that I used to be uncomfortable with the first ten of running; now it’s 20 minutes of I-want-To-Quit? I think I had to go two miles before I found happiness in my stride. “One. One, Two, Seven, Four.” The off-count made me giggle and that made things a little easier. BubbleGum to ease the pressure. ‘Vultures’ pushed me faster and the homeward stretch was easier. By the time I got home I had snot running down my beet-red face, but at least I made it out. And back. Thanks, JCM.

Bottom line: 3.6 in 35 minutes.

Drum Save

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drumsI was thinking last night was going to suck. Even before I got to the Gerbil Cage, I knew I wasn’t going to have any fun. What is it about the first ten minutes of a run that has me sucking air and swearing? I’ve never liked the first ten minutes. Ever.
Here’s what saved me – drums. I listen for those moments that thrill me, distract me. Here are three such moments: two heavy beats in ‘I Don’t Trust Myself’ (John Mayer). Right before “I will break my way into your garden…” Steve Jordan does a staccato two hit. Never before and never since. I always look for it. Right after “Stomped on the floor just for fun” in ‘Old Apartment’ (Barenaked Ladies) Tyler Stewart “stomps” on his drums, again with those two beats I look for. Never again and never since. The third drum moment I love is harder to find. It’s not on the original recording, but it’s a sirsy moment in “Please Let Me Be”~ my all-time favorite guilty pleasure song. I can’t even begin to describe the drum moment there. It was a conversation between bass and drum that only happened twice. I think someone said it was a hit on the four, or something like that. The only time you could hear it was at a show and I would look for it, and anticipate it every single time. Never before and never since.
Anyway, back to the run. Those three songs came on and distracted me enough to get through the harder parts of being a gerbil. If it weren’t for them, I don’t know what I would have done.

As an aside, “Paint It Black” by the Rolling Stones has the exact tempo I need for a 10 minute mile. Excellent drum distraction, too!

Thighs on Fire

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hippoNow & Zen Yoga and Planet Fitness did my thighs in last night and I couldn’t be happier. The schedule worked out the way I wanted~ I beat myself up in royal fashion and am thrilled.
First, yoga. I am bound and determined to make classes at N&Z every Tuesday because last night was proof that I need this. I really, really need this. It didn’t start the way I wanted to – getting out of work late, traffic and having to change into body-bending friendly clothes put me behind schedule. I felt every bit the tutu’ed hippo from Fantasia when I ran up to the fourth floor, heavy and clunking, scurrying and panting. The floors are all wood and loud. The class could probably hear me coming a mile away. Note to self: Self! Wear quieter shoes next time!
Once in the classroom and (finally) settled I needed a moment to clear my head and still my breath. It really didn’t help that I was out of breath when I first got there. I sat in the way back so no one could hear my panting like some obscene caller. Luckily, Ruth is really good about making sure everyone is grounded and still before starting the poses.
I don’t like anyone but my husband touching my feet. I don’t like anyone but Ruth teaching me yoga. It’s that simple. Ruth makes it fun. She removes the barriers that make yoga seem intimidating. She does it with humor and humility. Think you’re too “atheist” to follow something so spiritual as yoga? Ruth doesn’t preach. Think you’re too out of shape to even try a pose? She’ll prove you wrong. Think yoga is too complicated in language and movement? She’ll break it down. Think you can’t laugh in her class. Guess again. That doesn’t mean that her classes are diluted in spirit, challenge or education. She just has a way of making it interesting, fun and rewarding. Trust me, my thighs will vouch for me, myself and moi. We worked on warrior I poses. I can’t remember the last time I balanced with one leg behind me, the other bent before me, arms overhead. Do I look warrior-like? My muscles trembled as if laughing at me. Probably not.

Directly after yoga I picked up the hubby and went to run. Thigh killer #2. I don’t know what happened but all of a sudden I wanted to turn on the burners. I needed another challenge so I set up a plan: start with walking 3.5/hr mile and every 30 seconds increase the speed by .5 (incline .5 all the while). I kept this up until I got to a 7mph pace. Cranking. I haven’t been at this pace since highschool. To keep up the challenge I stayed at 7 for another two minutes, listening to everyone involved: toes, ankles, knees, hips, heart…and the newcomer to pain: thighs. So far so good. After two minutes I worked my way back down the same way I got there: .5/mph every 30 seconds until I got to my normal pace – 5.6 mph. To tell the truth, I don’t know how long I stayed at 5.6 before I got to the cooldown. Once in cooldown mode I cranked up the incline. While jogging an easy 4.5 I set the incline to 4. Walking a 3.5 I increased to 5.5. Finally when I was crawling along at 2/mph I was at in incline of 6.5. My calves and ankles thanked me. I could feel the stretch as I walked and it felt like heaven. So, even though my distance wasn’t any different from any other run as of late, I worked in some speed and some hills….and YOGA! Yay.
Bottom line: 3.39 mi / 39min with warm up and cool down.

Silence of a Different Kind

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The batteries to my mp3 player died. When I found some batteries I couldn’t find the mp3 player. I brought the discman instead, got on the treadmill and discovered those batteries were dead, too. Thinking of S, I didn’t let it bother me. I ran in “silence” instead. Ignoring the piped in, heavy on the bass, meant to inspire your ass music, the nearby chatting of the ladies behind me, and the steady, droning hum of the machines, I ran in my own kind of silence.

I had quick conversations with my lungs, knees, ankles, and heart. Only to check in with everybody, only to make sure we were going to be okay for the duration. Only then did I fall silent myself. It’s not about getting in shape. It’s not about having that runners butt or losing weight. It’s about finding self. I had forgotten that. Completely and utterly. Somewhere in the middle of training to run a half marathon, somewhere in the agony of injury, somewhere in the middle of everything, somehow I had forgotten that. I had forgotten what it was like to run in peace, to run in practical meditation with a clear mind, a clear heart. I love that point when all I’m aware of is simply breathing. I’m sure other athletes get to this point in their sport – where what they do takes them to a purer part of their psyche. It’s why they do what they do, I’m sure.

Bottom line: 2.99 mi 35 min (including warm up and cool down)

Not Hot Chocolate

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Hot CocoaSo…Today was the Hot Chocolate Road Race for Safe Passage. I don’t know why I was so nervous but I was. I woke with wind in my ears and concern that was all in my head. I haven’t run outside in ages. Treadmills don’t give you cracks in the sidewalks, unexpected hills, uneven pavement, face-slapping leaves, wind in your face, nor other crazy runners vying for spaces around you. It’s completely different and I felt completely unprepared. My rocking husband bought a bagel just so I could use the restroom for one last nerve-induced pee. Once at the race site I searched for S. I wasn’t going to run with her but I knew it would make me feel better just to see her before all the madness began. Not only did I find her, I got to hang out with her, waiting for the IGuessThisIsIt start. We laughed about not so fauxs and Coming Out. It helped relieved the tension. Big Time.
Once the race started I felt bad I left S behind, but I knew I had to keep pace or else. I knew I would need to push myself the entire way. Believe it or not, that was my downfall, utterly and completely. Even at mile one I realized I was running too fast. I knew I would never last at that frantic pace, but I couldn’t slow down. My mistake was I was getting caught up in the speed of racers around me. I’m out of shape. I’m not the runner I once was, even for that briefest of times. My favorite moments during the race? Finding my husband by the side of the road, searching for my face. I saw him before he saw me. To surprise him I ran right up to him and announced, “kiss a stranger!” as I planted a wet one on him. It was a great pick-me-up and left me smiling for the rest of the run.
I have no idea how long it took me to finish. My PR was not important to me at all. I finished, handed in my “tag” and kept walking. Looking for S, looking for my husband. Unbelievably, I found them both within minutes. Did we get hot chocolate? Did we join the post race festivities? Did we search out award winners and speeches? No. We went to DD so my hubby could treat us to iced (?!) coffee and a gingerbread latte. Thank yooooooouuuuu! We talked running and racing while talking to the carseat locals. I think I even found S her future husband! 🙂

This “race” wasn’t about racing at all. I wanted to do something to announce my return to the run, I wanted to do something with my legs for a good cause and I wanted to cheer on my friend. This is something that deserves repeating. I am proud of my friend. Like I told her, she has huge courage – bigger than mine. She has never run outside. She has never run without music. This was her first “run race” and she hasn’t been running all that long. Me? I wouldn’t have had the guts to take on anything public, anything I’d have to register for! If anyone has read my LLS running blog, you’ll know I stressed about running without music for weeks before I actually did it. I literally had to ween myself off my mp3 player! I am proud of my friend.

Hey, S. Did you see the evening news!?
Hey, J. Thank you for your never-ending support. You so rock my world.

Last Chance Workout

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Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m a huge fan of NBC’s show Biggest Loser. I could be lying in bed at 11:30pm and after watching an episode I want to get up and run laps. Seriously. It’s instantaneous Right Now inspiration that gets me every time.
Tonight, I pretended I was a contestant on the show. I really felt like I was getting in a Last Chance workout when I boarded the treadmill to hell. This was to be my only run before the “race” on Saturday. My last chance to get in a little CanIDoIt cardio and boy, did it suck. Well, I should clarify. The run itself was awesome – 3.31 miles in 35 minutes. Rock that. But, my athletic preparation left something to be desired. Where should I start? Biggest LoserBefore I even started I realized I was decked out in sweat sucking cotton. I was inviting chaffing without even realizing it. Had I not learned anything? Mile one I realized I forgot a sports bra. I’m no Double D. I’m not even a bouncy C but still, I knew that I would pay for not protecting the goods. Mile two I realized I forgot to put on deodorant…no wonder no one was to the left or right of me! Mile three and my clip started to slide out of my sweat soaked hair. What was I thinking? Where was my common sense? I felt ridiculous. Luckily, with the help of the Stones, Robinella, Natalie, sirsy, and KT I got through 35 minutes without too much embarrassment. I’m ready for the Hot Chocolate Race.
And speaking of that – I’ve been wrestling with something, a dilemma of sorts. Part of me wants to take my time, stick with S – run when she runs, walks when she walks, and just be there to cheer her on. There’s another part of me that views this ‘new’ attitude as something that needs to taken out for a test drive. I want to take myself out, open her up and see what she can do. How will I run this race if I don’t really run it? I decided to ditch my friend and run the run with everything I’ve got. I fell off the running wagon, I’ve struggled to get back on. This is my chance to secure a seat back where I belong – as a runner.

Bestest

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I had the bestest run with a bestest bud last night. Okay, I don’t really talk like that, but I did have an awesome run with an awesome friend. That much is true. We agreed to meet at the gym to gerbil out. I got there first and started right in. My goal was to run 3 (three) miles. Period. Three meager miles. I wanted to give myself more time just in case I ran like molasses. Anything could have slowed me down: the knee, the not-quite-healed-rubbed-bleeding-raw Achilles tendon, or the simple fact that I haven’t been running and I am so, so out of shape. I gave myself a pace of a 12 minute mile. For those of you with longer legs, that’s a walking pace.
It’s easier to stay focused on a treadmill. The belt moves your feet in relentless, unyielding, (sometimes seen as unforgiving) constant motion. It’s even easier to stay focused when you run with a friend. I can’t tell you how big the smile on my face was when S broke into a run, but I can tell you I was proud, proud, proud. This girl rocks, really. I’m sure I looked goofy, positively goofy with that big-azz smile but it made my run that much easier.

In addition to running with S, BubbleGum, ysris. Robinella, Rob Thomas and Natalie accompanied me. Finished product: 4.1 miles in 50 minutes (that includes 15 minutes of warming up and cooling down). Very cool.

Gerbil on a Rampage

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The gerbil got back on the treadmill yesterday. Yeah, that would be me. Well, me, myself & moi because we were all trying for something different. Me, I was running just because the date of the domestic violence run  is starting to loom large. Another part of me, she was running because, well, she hasn’t. Plain & simple.  Yet another motive of moi was running as support for my husband who has this BuffBodyByBowFlex plan. While he elipticalled, I ran.
This run was right up there with all things that suck. First, why is it that when I don’t play by the rules I get by just fine – yet, when I follow “procedure” it bites me in the ass? I’m talking about running shoes. When I started training a year ago I didn’t have running sneakers, per se. I think I had cross trainers which, incidentally,  had already logged a bunch of miles (I used to do “garbage walks” around town in an attempt to clean up the loser lottery tickets and empty butt boxes). I walked a lot. When it came time to get new sneaks I went to professional and professionally got burned. I hate the new digs for my feet. Okay, hate is a strong word, but when your heels start to bleed after 25 minutes something is really wrong.
This run also sucked because I couldn’t grab a groove, uncover a rhthym, or heartbeat, something, anything steady to keep me sane. I felt knock~kneed and nerdy. Simmons across my ass, black cats across my chest. I couldn’t get more childish and teeny bopper if I tried. All I needed was BubbleGum to snap.
Still, I ran through the blood and the feeling foolish. I have a bloody sock a la Curt Shilling, but I got in a run. For those of you who know, that’s enough. 

2.81 miles in 25 minutes with blood