back in the saddle again . . . with running, with blogging, with all sorts of things.
Running is way better when it ends.
chalk it up to spring fever after winter hibernation, but I'll be more active here shortly. Once we move (we are moving, did you know that? 8 houses down the street, but still, stressful), and I emerge from the bubble of anxiety and chaos and boxes.
I've been doing so well, for me at least, with the running. I went three times last week! My main route (I have a MAIN ROUTE you guys!) is just down to the end of my street, back, and down to the other end of my street and back. It's about 3.1 miles all told, though with at least one bastard hill.
The first run was that route, start to finish. Took a day off, then ran again, stopping at about 2 miles because it was hot and disgusting and I figured my neighbors probably wouldn't appreciate me passing out on their lawn and dying there. Then the third one was Saturday, and I went the first chunk with the biggest little. Which: he can walk as fast as I run. And he's a WHINER (as am I so no surprise there). He really wants to do the Montclair Bread Company's donut run in December with me, so I was like, ok, let's start practicing. He did well, though was like, whaddya mean I have to keep up with you? Then realized that he could easily keep up with me by walking. We did the short leg of the route, stopped by the house and then JBB took the littles to the farther park, and I ran there to meet them. I didn't mind the change of route, but I'm not sure I'd follow the same way again. All told, it was about 3.25 miles, with a bunch of walking in there.
But I've hit a stumbling block: my right knee is sore. Sore like I fell on it, though not all the time. Which to me suggests I overdid it. Damnit. I'm not good at this balance thing, of doing it enough to create a habit but not enough to overdo it.
I mean, I get that's why the C25K program has you go slow and alternate running and walking. But if I stop running to say, walk up that BASTARD hill, it's nigh impossible to get going again. Inertia! That's my problem all around. Stupid laws of physics apply to my habits as well.
Poo. I'm going to go torture myself with the foam roller for a while and see if that helps.
I ran again! Nearly 3 miles, even. And I did not want to die (much) or throw up (at all)! Shocking! And Progress.
I also realized one of the key things for me in keeping this thing going is music. I need something to distract me from the fact that I am running and it's hot and now I'm sweaty and my ponytail is swinging against the back of my sweaty neck and my legs are getting tired and there's a weird itch on my face because I'm sweating and UGH I HATE THIS.
It's not just distraction, but it's also keeping a beat going a bit. I realized, almost by a fluke, that some of the best songs I have on my playlist are random indies that have a relatively driving beat. Songs like Float On (Modest Mouse), Mr. Tough (Yo La Tengo) and Hey Julie (Fountains of Wayne). Not really your typical running songs, but there's something about the relatively slow but driving beat that's emphazised by either the singing or the music (no big breaks or pauses), and the fact that I can sing along with them.
Trying to figure out more of these kinds so I don't OD on one playlist alone, or get sick of the songs, led me to jog.fm. Searchable by bpm and pace! And big enough that it actually may include some of the weird shit I like! Thank you internets!
Meanwhile, anyone got any suggestions for songs to add?
Remember that time I went running? (You should, loyal reader, it was just last week.)
I did it again on Sunday! In the awful heat! And shockingly did not pass out from heat stroke! Yay! But I did get a goddamned blister on my heel. Boo!
I don't think it was my shoes--which by the by are the first athletic shoes ever to not make my feet go all pins and needles-y when I run, because I sucked it up and got the less-cute-colored-but-actually-fit-my-feet wides. But I'm pretty sure it was my damn socks. Stupid cotton socks.
Luckily there's a running store in town, and the nice folks there directed me to better socks. I picked up a thin pair and a more padded pair to see what I end up preferring, but I am hoping they'll be better than the crappy wigwam cotton ones I had.
Now I have to go dig through the boxes of crap I packed up from my office and see if I can find the good blister bandages I kept there.
God help me, I went for a run this morning.
look, I'm wearing running pants! WHO AM I EVEN??
I HATE running. I hate exercise in general. The outdoors and I do not get along, unless I'm floating in water somewhere with a frozen boozy beverage awaiting me on the lanai. Those who know me (and let's face it, you're probably not reading this if you don't know me), know that I am not a fan of exertion.
And yet. AND YET. I RAN.
And I actually ran-ran, all the way to the end of my street (maybe 1/2 mile?), walked back up the hill a bit because let's not go too crazy here people, and then RAN AGAIN to the park and around the loop.
Why, you ask? My friend Kari posted this article from Runners World this am. And damn if Mirna Valerio's story isn't going to a light a fire a hell of a lot more than some bullshit thinspo on Pinterest. I will be following her blog, Fat Girl Running from now on, for damn sure.
It's not just because I'm going to turn 40 this year, though that's part of it. My family history of diabetes and weight struggles doesn't help my natural inclination to laze about. I've struggled with my weight for pretty much my entire life, and my natural inclination is to gain weight, not lose it. While diet can control a lot of it for me, at almost-40 I'm far far less likely to subsist on sugar free jello, cool whip free, and popcorn, they way I did when I was at my skinniest.
And the almost-40 part is actually a boon, because I am far more comfortable in my own skin than I ever was when I was younger. Despite always being outwardly relatively self-confident (except, ugh, teenage years), 20 years ago I would have been MORTIFIED to go out and exercise where people could SEE me. Because yet another fat girl sweating in public, taking up space, daring to do what the THIN girls do. (Not really, but you see the thought process).
I still don't believe the platitude that "no, no one's watching you, really!" because that's bullshit. Bullshit spread by the non-fat and parents of self conscious teenagers. People ARE looking. And yeah, some are judging. It's one thing a big girl learns early: people watch the big girls, people judge the big girls, and people feel free to share their comments on you.
But the biggest difference is that now? I got zero fucks to give y'all. Want a show, looky loos? I GOT ONE RIGHT HERE. MY FACE VS. A BEET: CAN YOU SPOT THE DIFFERENCE?
I will say, a decent outfit helps. A decent outfit being not cocooning myself in heavy, stretched out shitty cotton. I mean, a solid sports bra is a literal requirement, but the rest of the gear helps too. So now I had:
And the capper? It wasn't eleventy billion degrees and sweltering outside.
I mean, it still took me over an hour to prep for what wound up being 40 minutes outside (I count my stopping for food after as well), cause I had to find my ipod, charge my ipod, fiddle with the playlist and delete some weird shit I'd put on there, sync my ipod, decide maybe to listen to a podcast instead?, download a bunch of podcasts, revise that plan, and tweak the playlist some more (I confused that Budapest song with Barcelona, and realized it just in time but couldn't think of Budapest, so was like, hm Euro city with a B.... Belfast? Belgrade? Then I figured it out.). Then which water bottle to bring? (note: carrying a water bottle while running hurts my shoulders but I need to drink the water so I don't pass out and die on the curb. Solutions, runner friends?)
Red! and Green! and cleavage!
Now I'm drinking green juice (what, I like celery and cucumber!), sweaty and gross after a run, outside, in SUNLIGHT. I'm even debating another tennis lesson.
Jesus, I don't even know who I am anymore.
My name's Jen. I make stuff using yarn, fiber, clay, words, etc.
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