You would think that a nice long week off work would result in a lot of running and maybe some swimming or cycling or other fun fun outdoor active activities.
Scratch that. I knew what this week would involve. Food, computer games, lots of movies and not a lot of moving at all. And maybe some baking. So I guess this has been a successful holiday, because that’s what I’ve been doing.
I have been intending to get out there and do some running for the last couple of mornings. Sunday was Christmas, so I gave myself the day off. Monday was Boxing Day, a day of dubious purpose to be sure, but I didn’t think it involved running. Tuesday, I think I may have had a late night. Wednesday, pretty much the same. I set my alarm for 5am, but I couldn’t manage to drag myself out of bed until half past, and then I had a stomachache. Thursday morning I only got home at just before 1am, so waking up four hours later didn’t appeal to me.
Today, I got up at 6am. Finally managed to get out there on the road. It was a gorgeous morning, not a cloud in the sky. I didn’t even negotiate with myself the way I usually do, like “Maybe you can just run TO the lake, and if you don’t feel like running around it, you can turn up College Street. At least that’s six kilometres. If you just do one lap around Gininderra, hey, that’s fourteen kilometres. Even better! Maybe if you feel okay after that, you can press on for the half.” I just went for it, and even though it wasn’t an easy one later on (I was really hurting by the 18k mark) I managed to get home in 2 hours, 11 minutes.
This is a massive win, because my half marathon personal best is 2 hours 16 minutes or thereabouts. Five minutes off my PB, and I wasn’t going particularly fast.
Happyface.
I fell asleep as soon as I came home, though. It was pretty warm out there, and I sorta crashed as soon as I came in the door. The tendons at the back of my ankles are really tight right now. I think I should start stretching.
Should I make that one of my new year’s resolutions? I need to stretch more.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
You spin me right round baby, right round
Helluva crazy weekend. I really wanted to manage 21 kilometres on Saturday, and I did. So I win. Hooray! These long runs are really starting to screw me around, though. I get low blood sugar, I eat more sugar to literally keep myself awake, I get a headache, I crash, I fall asleep in the middle of the day... After yesterday’s run, I wasn’t much good for the rest of the day. Irritable. Unable to focus. I’m thinking there might be a diet issue, but I have no idea what it is.
So when I was running, I was trying to get Siri to play me some music. Exchange follows:
Me: Play my marathon endurance playlist.
Siri: (long pause) I’m sorry Cupcake, I didn’t catch that.
Me: Play my marathon endurance playlist.
Siri: (even longer pause) You don’t have a playlist named ‘Maritime Insurance’, Cupcake.
See, I made Siri call me Cupcake. It sounds so condescending when she says it in her little robot-y voice. I tried to get her to call me ‘asshat’, but she just paused for a moment and said “Could you please repeat that, Cupcake?”
I got cranky today for a variety of reasons, and rather than sit in my room and wallow in my shitty mood I put some clothes on, strapped on my running shoes and went out for a six kilometre jog. It kind of helped. Apart from the fact that I ate a whole bunch of fruit before I went running, and that didn’t do my stomach any favours.
One more week of work and then we’re shutting down over the Christmas holidays. Looking forward to a bit of a break.
So when I was running, I was trying to get Siri to play me some music. Exchange follows:
Me: Play my marathon endurance playlist.
Siri: (long pause) I’m sorry Cupcake, I didn’t catch that.
Me: Play my marathon endurance playlist.
Siri: (even longer pause) You don’t have a playlist named ‘Maritime Insurance’, Cupcake.
See, I made Siri call me Cupcake. It sounds so condescending when she says it in her little robot-y voice. I tried to get her to call me ‘asshat’, but she just paused for a moment and said “Could you please repeat that, Cupcake?”
I got cranky today for a variety of reasons, and rather than sit in my room and wallow in my shitty mood I put some clothes on, strapped on my running shoes and went out for a six kilometre jog. It kind of helped. Apart from the fact that I ate a whole bunch of fruit before I went running, and that didn’t do my stomach any favours.
One more week of work and then we’re shutting down over the Christmas holidays. Looking forward to a bit of a break.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
I know she's my PA but I get the feeling that Siri hates me.
Just going to be a quick post this morning because I got up late, took a run for almost two hours and now I’ve got to go to a dance class. Yeah, after a 16.5km run. THAT’S AN AWESOME IDEA. You would have thought I’d learned my lesson after the swimming debacle last month. I’m expecting some agony. But if I didn’t take any risks, I’d never get anywhere.
It was a nice run this morning. The weather seemed a little cool to begin with but I figured it wouldn’t be a problem... Until I saw that I was running toward a wall of ominous black clouds. Within a few minutes, it was raining pretty heavily. I got paranoid that taking my iPhone out of my bumbag would result in a dead iPhone 4s and a really unhappy me, as water damage isn’t covered under the warranty. I laboured under my hastily chosen music playlist for about five or six kilometres, before I remembered Siri. Now, I’ve had a bad history with Siri because she never seems to understand a word I say. I still keep trying because apparently she’s supposed to learn and improve over time. We’ve come to blows in the past because she flatly refuses to play Eye of the Tiger. Every time I ask, she plays the Black Eyed Peas. I don’t question why, although I do question why there’s a Black Eyed Peas song on my iPhone. I just figure that she hates me and this is her attempt at defiance.
Today Siri was behaving, at least to begin with. I’d ask her for some Bush, or Queen, or Talking Heads, and she’d play it. I’d say “Play my newest junk.”, and she’d play my newest junk. After a while, I think the microphone may have gotten a little wet, because I was trying to get her to play some Foo Fighters and she just wouldn’t do it. She said “I’m sorry, I don’t understand semicolon hash A four...” etc. I’m not sure exactly what it was she said, as I cut her off mid-sentence, but it certainly didn’t have anything to do with the Foo Fighters. There was nobody around at the time to see me running along at full steam, screaming PLAY! FOO! FIGHTERS! seemingly to myself. That’s a good thing. Ah, technology.
So the Cadbury Half is only four weeks away, give or take. I really wanted to do 21km this morning, but I slept through my alarm and I can’t miss the dress rehearsal today for the ball performance. I haven’t been training all that well (as evidenced by my lack of bloggage) but I think I’m in good shape for the half marathon all the same. I’m really looking forward to it. New scenery, as I’ve never been to Tasmania. I ran to work one and a half times over the last three weeks (second time I had to give up halfway as I messed up my knee. No lasting damage, though). So yeah, all in all, things are going to be fine. Positivity!
Man, I wish I was somewhere else right now. Somewhere warmer. With an ocean, and sand.
It was a nice run this morning. The weather seemed a little cool to begin with but I figured it wouldn’t be a problem... Until I saw that I was running toward a wall of ominous black clouds. Within a few minutes, it was raining pretty heavily. I got paranoid that taking my iPhone out of my bumbag would result in a dead iPhone 4s and a really unhappy me, as water damage isn’t covered under the warranty. I laboured under my hastily chosen music playlist for about five or six kilometres, before I remembered Siri. Now, I’ve had a bad history with Siri because she never seems to understand a word I say. I still keep trying because apparently she’s supposed to learn and improve over time. We’ve come to blows in the past because she flatly refuses to play Eye of the Tiger. Every time I ask, she plays the Black Eyed Peas. I don’t question why, although I do question why there’s a Black Eyed Peas song on my iPhone. I just figure that she hates me and this is her attempt at defiance.
Today Siri was behaving, at least to begin with. I’d ask her for some Bush, or Queen, or Talking Heads, and she’d play it. I’d say “Play my newest junk.”, and she’d play my newest junk. After a while, I think the microphone may have gotten a little wet, because I was trying to get her to play some Foo Fighters and she just wouldn’t do it. She said “I’m sorry, I don’t understand semicolon hash A four...” etc. I’m not sure exactly what it was she said, as I cut her off mid-sentence, but it certainly didn’t have anything to do with the Foo Fighters. There was nobody around at the time to see me running along at full steam, screaming PLAY! FOO! FIGHTERS! seemingly to myself. That’s a good thing. Ah, technology.
So the Cadbury Half is only four weeks away, give or take. I really wanted to do 21km this morning, but I slept through my alarm and I can’t miss the dress rehearsal today for the ball performance. I haven’t been training all that well (as evidenced by my lack of bloggage) but I think I’m in good shape for the half marathon all the same. I’m really looking forward to it. New scenery, as I’ve never been to Tasmania. I ran to work one and a half times over the last three weeks (second time I had to give up halfway as I messed up my knee. No lasting damage, though). So yeah, all in all, things are going to be fine. Positivity!
Man, I wish I was somewhere else right now. Somewhere warmer. With an ocean, and sand.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Superfast Jellyfish
I had a day off on Friday, and it was a serious luxury that I didn’t want to waste. I got up early, fell back asleep, dragged myself out of bed at about 6:15 and faffed around until I finally managed to get out on the road at 7:00. Then I took a nice leisurely run down to Lake Burley Griffin and around the central basin, only stopping occasionally to take some photos.
I find it strange that things always look so much further away when you take a photo of them.
I also tried to take a shot of some fluffy baby ducks but as soon as I got my phone out to get all happy-snappy the mother duck started freaking out and went straight for me. Duck needs to take a chill pill. Probably thought I was going to eat its children. And I may have. Fluffy baby ducks looked pretty damn tasty.
The run itself was uneventful. I’m getting back into the swing of the long runs, not really feeling any discomfort due to the increased distance. Now the boredom starts to sink in, unless I entertain myself some other way. Does this mean I’m not pushing myself hard enough? I’m just trying to avoid heat exhaustion, dehydration and all the other wonderful things that come along with running at this time of year. I only drink water on these runs and I get pretty sweaty, so there might already be some electrolyte loss. Especially considering what happened later in the day.
After my run I had a big breakfast of eggs, bacon, crumpets and a pop tart. Long long runs = mucho food = bliss.
Now, complications. I went for a swim pretty much as soon as I’d eaten my breakfast because it was a really hot morning. I went down to CISAC, which is pretty good. They’ve got a nice 50m pool there, and it’s not too far from home. Six hundred metres in, I had an encounter with my old friend Leg Cramp. Now, this could be because of the electrolyte loss from earlier, or simply from muscle fatigue due to the run and my bad swimming. If I thought I ran badly, my swimming is like 1000 times worse. Children watch me in horror and turn to their mothers, shrieking “Mummy, that girl is drowning!” Or, “Mummy, is there something wrong with her legs?” and this is on a GOOD day. This was not a good day. I was halfway through my 13th lap and both legs completely seized up, bending double underneath me. I had to swim to the other side of the pool with no legs, avoiding splashy freestyle guy in my lane who kept trying to overtake me despite there being two sparsely populated lanes for medium-speed swimming and only one slow lane. Which I was in. Life in the slow lane, that’s me.
Out of this, I took the comforting assurance that if I really were to drown, the lifeguards would probably just stare at me in a bored fashion as they had when I was all cramped up and struggling to stay above the water.
Later on in the day, I went to get a deep tissue massage. This had seemed like a great idea earlier in the week, but this woman was BRUTAL. She had elbows of iron, and by the sounds of it she was either really exerting herself while working me over, or she was enjoying herself a bit too much. She tortured my back for what seemed like a lifetime, and even though I knew it would hurt when she got to my calves, I had no idea just how much.
Yeah. I like deep tissue massage. Nothing like a bit of whimpering agony to liven up my day.
Now after dancing today, my legs feel odd. Rubbery. Jelly-like. I know I have to run tomorrow, but I’m hoping they’ve fixed themselves up by then.
I find it strange that things always look so much further away when you take a photo of them.
I also tried to take a shot of some fluffy baby ducks but as soon as I got my phone out to get all happy-snappy the mother duck started freaking out and went straight for me. Duck needs to take a chill pill. Probably thought I was going to eat its children. And I may have. Fluffy baby ducks looked pretty damn tasty.
The run itself was uneventful. I’m getting back into the swing of the long runs, not really feeling any discomfort due to the increased distance. Now the boredom starts to sink in, unless I entertain myself some other way. Does this mean I’m not pushing myself hard enough? I’m just trying to avoid heat exhaustion, dehydration and all the other wonderful things that come along with running at this time of year. I only drink water on these runs and I get pretty sweaty, so there might already be some electrolyte loss. Especially considering what happened later in the day.
After my run I had a big breakfast of eggs, bacon, crumpets and a pop tart. Long long runs = mucho food = bliss.
Now, complications. I went for a swim pretty much as soon as I’d eaten my breakfast because it was a really hot morning. I went down to CISAC, which is pretty good. They’ve got a nice 50m pool there, and it’s not too far from home. Six hundred metres in, I had an encounter with my old friend Leg Cramp. Now, this could be because of the electrolyte loss from earlier, or simply from muscle fatigue due to the run and my bad swimming. If I thought I ran badly, my swimming is like 1000 times worse. Children watch me in horror and turn to their mothers, shrieking “Mummy, that girl is drowning!” Or, “Mummy, is there something wrong with her legs?” and this is on a GOOD day. This was not a good day. I was halfway through my 13th lap and both legs completely seized up, bending double underneath me. I had to swim to the other side of the pool with no legs, avoiding splashy freestyle guy in my lane who kept trying to overtake me despite there being two sparsely populated lanes for medium-speed swimming and only one slow lane. Which I was in. Life in the slow lane, that’s me.
Out of this, I took the comforting assurance that if I really were to drown, the lifeguards would probably just stare at me in a bored fashion as they had when I was all cramped up and struggling to stay above the water.
Later on in the day, I went to get a deep tissue massage. This had seemed like a great idea earlier in the week, but this woman was BRUTAL. She had elbows of iron, and by the sounds of it she was either really exerting herself while working me over, or she was enjoying herself a bit too much. She tortured my back for what seemed like a lifetime, and even though I knew it would hurt when she got to my calves, I had no idea just how much.
Yeah. I like deep tissue massage. Nothing like a bit of whimpering agony to liven up my day.
Now after dancing today, my legs feel odd. Rubbery. Jelly-like. I know I have to run tomorrow, but I’m hoping they’ve fixed themselves up by then.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Doubts, dramas and philosophical inadequacies
I don’t know all that much about philosophy, but I know a whole bunch about traffic lights. I want to share something, a lesson that was taught to me by the little green man on the pedestrian crossing. He’s a friend. He’s very close to me.
The little green man says to walk, but it’s more than that. The little green man says to keep moving forward. When you’re waiting to cross the road, the little green man teases the shit out of you. He never shows up when you want him to, he waits and waits until you’re halfway tempted to start crossing despite him. But then he tells you to walk, and you cross the road.
Sometimes when you get to the other side of the road, you realise that you really want to be back there where you were before. But you can’t just turn around and walk back, because now the cars are going past and you’ve missed your chance. The little green dude is nowhere to be found. He disappeared when you were still walking, when the little red man started flashing at you in warning. The little green man fucked off to do whatever it is the little green man does when he’s not shepherding your ass across the road. You no longer have the freedom to cross the road unimpeded. You’ve lost that magic moment. If you want to cross back again, you’ll just have to wait. You don’t know when the lights will change again. Is it healthy to stand there, looking back across the road, wishing you were back where you were before this whole crossing-the-road mess started? Staring at the red man, wishing him gone. It’s not frigging healthy. It’s not good for you. You’re wasting your life, waiting for the green man to come back. If you ever got back there, it wouldn’t be the same.
The little green man is trying to tell you that you just have to keep moving forward. You think you’re on the wrong side of the road? How do you know? Have you really looked? Maybe life is great here on the other side. Even if it’s not, there will be other roads and you’ll cross them in your time. If there’s someone you left behind back there, maybe in their time they’ll come over to this side of the road to join you. It’s what all the cool kids are doing.
But basically, setting aside the confusing metaphor, reflection is okay every now and then but living in the past is counterproductive because you’re not living at all. When there are setbacks, you just have to pick yourself the fuck up and KEEP MOVING FORWARD. Because life doesn’t stop for anyone, and nor does the little green man on the traffic lights.
Maybe I know a little about philosophy.
I landed stupidly on my ankle during dance class today. Sometimes my spatial perception sucks ass. I went floundering on the floor, knowing I’d have to pick myself up and somehow get to the other end of the room so the other dancers could keep on dancing, knowing that there was no dignified way of doing this because I couldn’t put any weight on my left foot. I had to hop the length of the room. I knew I looked like a dick. I knew I was epitomising the fucking ridiculous but what the hell else is new? Since I got home I’ve accessorised with a hole in my hand from accidentally grating it with a box grater, and several hot oil burns on my fingers.
But you know what? That’s me. I’m clumsy. I’m a dork. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone.
I haven’t been in a dark place, but over the last week I’ve been standing right next to a dark place, peering in. I don’t want to go in there. I want to go back to the way I was before. There is no going back, and I’m going to give the dark place a wide berth. I’ve just got to accept the way I am and keep moving forward. Hope for a road somewhere ahead.
I wish I could follow this more consistently, stand by my convictions and be a strong person. But I’m too fucking weak. It comes and it goes.
In short, I didn’t run this weekend, even though I don’t have a long training window left. Falling back into the lazy trap. Am I going to let it bother me? No. I’m going to just keep on going.
I used to be so awesome. Now I’m not sure anymore.
The little green man says to walk, but it’s more than that. The little green man says to keep moving forward. When you’re waiting to cross the road, the little green man teases the shit out of you. He never shows up when you want him to, he waits and waits until you’re halfway tempted to start crossing despite him. But then he tells you to walk, and you cross the road.
Sometimes when you get to the other side of the road, you realise that you really want to be back there where you were before. But you can’t just turn around and walk back, because now the cars are going past and you’ve missed your chance. The little green dude is nowhere to be found. He disappeared when you were still walking, when the little red man started flashing at you in warning. The little green man fucked off to do whatever it is the little green man does when he’s not shepherding your ass across the road. You no longer have the freedom to cross the road unimpeded. You’ve lost that magic moment. If you want to cross back again, you’ll just have to wait. You don’t know when the lights will change again. Is it healthy to stand there, looking back across the road, wishing you were back where you were before this whole crossing-the-road mess started? Staring at the red man, wishing him gone. It’s not frigging healthy. It’s not good for you. You’re wasting your life, waiting for the green man to come back. If you ever got back there, it wouldn’t be the same.
The little green man is trying to tell you that you just have to keep moving forward. You think you’re on the wrong side of the road? How do you know? Have you really looked? Maybe life is great here on the other side. Even if it’s not, there will be other roads and you’ll cross them in your time. If there’s someone you left behind back there, maybe in their time they’ll come over to this side of the road to join you. It’s what all the cool kids are doing.
But basically, setting aside the confusing metaphor, reflection is okay every now and then but living in the past is counterproductive because you’re not living at all. When there are setbacks, you just have to pick yourself the fuck up and KEEP MOVING FORWARD. Because life doesn’t stop for anyone, and nor does the little green man on the traffic lights.
Maybe I know a little about philosophy.
I landed stupidly on my ankle during dance class today. Sometimes my spatial perception sucks ass. I went floundering on the floor, knowing I’d have to pick myself up and somehow get to the other end of the room so the other dancers could keep on dancing, knowing that there was no dignified way of doing this because I couldn’t put any weight on my left foot. I had to hop the length of the room. I knew I looked like a dick. I knew I was epitomising the fucking ridiculous but what the hell else is new? Since I got home I’ve accessorised with a hole in my hand from accidentally grating it with a box grater, and several hot oil burns on my fingers.
But you know what? That’s me. I’m clumsy. I’m a dork. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone.
I haven’t been in a dark place, but over the last week I’ve been standing right next to a dark place, peering in. I don’t want to go in there. I want to go back to the way I was before. There is no going back, and I’m going to give the dark place a wide berth. I’ve just got to accept the way I am and keep moving forward. Hope for a road somewhere ahead.
I wish I could follow this more consistently, stand by my convictions and be a strong person. But I’m too fucking weak. It comes and it goes.
In short, I didn’t run this weekend, even though I don’t have a long training window left. Falling back into the lazy trap. Am I going to let it bother me? No. I’m going to just keep on going.
I used to be so awesome. Now I’m not sure anymore.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Tempted...
Ooh. Entries have opened for the 2012 Canberra Marathon. Already. I’m sorely tempted to shell out for my entry fee now so I’ve got the race locked in for next April.
Also, I’ll probably get a nice low bib number as well. Does that actually matter? Nah.
Interesting to me is that the race was $99 this year, and next year it’s going to be $109. Is there going to be more included? More amenities? Better quality medals? More of those deliciously awesome gels they provided this year? Is this prompted solely by inflation? I DON’T KNOW.
I haven’t really run this week at all. But I did do my long run on the weekend, and I swear I’m going to start getting my act together during the week. Soon-ish.
Also, I’ll probably get a nice low bib number as well. Does that actually matter? Nah.
Interesting to me is that the race was $99 this year, and next year it’s going to be $109. Is there going to be more included? More amenities? Better quality medals? More of those deliciously awesome gels they provided this year? Is this prompted solely by inflation? I DON’T KNOW.
I haven’t really run this week at all. But I did do my long run on the weekend, and I swear I’m going to start getting my act together during the week. Soon-ish.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
This is my Race Face
Okay, not so much my Race Face as my early morning Saturday face, where I haven’t showered or prettied myself up. Pre-run. Scary, huh? This is as candid as I get. I took a post run photo but it seems to have vanished. Which is a good thing.
As may become evident, I just got an iPhone 4s and I’m so overwhelmed by the novelty of a shiny awesome phone with a camera that I tend to take a lot of pictures. So, I apologise in advance.
I ran on Saturday, despite being for the most part unwilling to drag myself from my comfortable bed at 6am to spend half an hour dousing myself in sunscreen before hitting the road. I’m very sun-smart, most of the time. Even though sunscreen makes my face sting and my eyes swell up and inexplicably causes me to come home covered in tiny dead flying bugs. The bitches just love me. Maybe it’s because sunscreen makes me sweat like crazy. Sometimes I feel like the essence of Summer is purely the smell of sunscreen. Or Golden Gaytimes. Gotta love a Golden Gaytime.
I didn’t know if I was going to be able to cope with the distance, given that I’ve been so slack of late with the whole running malarkey, but I managed to run 14k in a pretty respectable time (at least respectable in my middling standards) of about one and a half hours. No personal best, but it’s just a training run. As the weather hasn’t really heated up as of yet, I’m starting to dread the longer runs to come through November and December in the lead-up to my race in January. I’ll get to experience the joy of a 4am alarm on a Saturday morning once more.
I can hardly wait.
I’ve given up on the MarathonGuru training plan. It’s just not realistic. Add to which, they sent me an email this week (or at least I think it was them, I can’t find the email now) to tell me that my free trial was coming up and I’d need to pay in order to keep my membership of the site. Naturally, I thought “Get stuffed” and stopped logging in. I know I can train for this event by myself anyway. I don’t need those losers.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Flailing ineffectually!
So I’m following this MarathonGuru training plan in the lead-up to the Cadbury Half in January. Thoughts so far? It’s pretty hardcore. Not the distances or the expected speeds, because they’re fairly average so far. It’s just the training load in general. It’s asking me to run five times this week. A combo of short runs, speed sessions, long slow runs, and I’m sure there’ll be hill repeats coming up, maybe even some fartlek. It kinda makes sense given the time goal I’m aiming for, but I’m really not used to running so often. I’m too lazy for this sort of discipline. Especially at this time of year.
We were actually discussing this at my dance class this morning. As it gets closer to the end of the year, people just feel more tired. It’s not the heat, so much. Heat is good for the muscles. You just feel a bit more blah. It’s interesting to get the perspective of others on this. At least I’m not the only one.
So anyways, I went for a 10k stagger yesterday. The weather was gorgeous. Overcast, occasionally spitting a bit of cold rain. It wasn’t full-on bucketing down, which I felt was a little bit of a shame, but it wasn’t windy. I enjoyed it. I approached the water fountain and this old lady in a bright pink see-through plastic raincoat starts laughing. “Ahahaha!” She says. “You’re thirsty!”
I wasn’t quite sure what to say in response to that.
We were actually discussing this at my dance class this morning. As it gets closer to the end of the year, people just feel more tired. It’s not the heat, so much. Heat is good for the muscles. You just feel a bit more blah. It’s interesting to get the perspective of others on this. At least I’m not the only one.
So anyways, I went for a 10k stagger yesterday. The weather was gorgeous. Overcast, occasionally spitting a bit of cold rain. It wasn’t full-on bucketing down, which I felt was a little bit of a shame, but it wasn’t windy. I enjoyed it. I approached the water fountain and this old lady in a bright pink see-through plastic raincoat starts laughing. “Ahahaha!” She says. “You’re thirsty!”
I wasn’t quite sure what to say in response to that.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Variation on a theme: You make me feel like dancin'!
When I signed up for the Cadbury Half Marathon, one of the interesting bonuses on the website was a link to a free interactive training program at MarathonGuru, which helps you to train for a particular time, and adjusts your predicted time based upon the progress you’re making in the training runs. I don’t know how good the results are going to be, but I’m giving it a shot.
Today, it’s 11 weeks away from the race. The training plan also started today, and being the good starter that I am (let’s not mention the ‘mediocre finisher’ aspect at this point. I’m working on it) I went out there and dutifully ran the 6km that was expected of me. Perhaps a little faster than the program told me to run. At this point, my predicted finish time for the half is 2 hours and about 4 minutes. Which would be pretty awesome. Those numbers will probably get a little skewed as time goes on.
I’ve also booked my flights and accommodation for the trip. So it’s definitely happening now. I’m about a grand poorer than I was this morning. Hoping it’s going to be worth it.
I haven’t really been running (apart from faffing around on the treadmill at the gym. I don’t really consider that running) for the last week or two, but I’m happy to get back into it. I’ve been a little preoccupied with other things, fitness-wise. Mostly Zumba. I know I’ve mentioned before that I got my instructor certification for Zumba Fitness back in January, and on Friday night, I finally had the opportunity to teach my first class. I realised that you sweat so much more when you’re teaching, because you have to give so much more energy to get the class to follow you. I tried to steer clear of the cardio-heavy songs, but I was still completely exhausted afterward. I’m teaching next Friday night’s class as well. Then, I’m done for the time being. I have a race coming up, and as fun as it was to teach, it was also unnatural and terrifying to me.
Today, it’s 11 weeks away from the race. The training plan also started today, and being the good starter that I am (let’s not mention the ‘mediocre finisher’ aspect at this point. I’m working on it) I went out there and dutifully ran the 6km that was expected of me. Perhaps a little faster than the program told me to run. At this point, my predicted finish time for the half is 2 hours and about 4 minutes. Which would be pretty awesome. Those numbers will probably get a little skewed as time goes on.
I’ve also booked my flights and accommodation for the trip. So it’s definitely happening now. I’m about a grand poorer than I was this morning. Hoping it’s going to be worth it.
I haven’t really been running (apart from faffing around on the treadmill at the gym. I don’t really consider that running) for the last week or two, but I’m happy to get back into it. I’ve been a little preoccupied with other things, fitness-wise. Mostly Zumba. I know I’ve mentioned before that I got my instructor certification for Zumba Fitness back in January, and on Friday night, I finally had the opportunity to teach my first class. I realised that you sweat so much more when you’re teaching, because you have to give so much more energy to get the class to follow you. I tried to steer clear of the cardio-heavy songs, but I was still completely exhausted afterward. I’m teaching next Friday night’s class as well. Then, I’m done for the time being. I have a race coming up, and as fun as it was to teach, it was also unnatural and terrifying to me.
Monday, October 10, 2011
I'm being chased by bees! Halp!
One thing I love about long weekends is how long they are. Wow, that sentence was remarkably redundant. I’ve missed the point I was trying to make, somehow. So anyway, long weekends are great, aren’t they? I’ve been feeling odd today. Jumpy. Energetic. Kinda distracted. I just can’t concentrate on anything. So I went for a run at about midday, just chucked my Garmin on a charge (it was flat) and did the same with my iPod touch because I can’t find my Nano. Then I just ran.
Ridiculously fast, it would seem. I went ten kilometres, and all in under an hour. I didn’t feel like I was running at race pace, just running. So maybe I am getting faster after all. My theory is that I was going faster to try to keep myself focused, in some subconscious way. Whatever, it worked. Feeling good, folks. Apart from, well... there were a few things.
Children on freaking bicycles, and those stupid scooter things. What goes through their minds? Oh, there’s a girl running in this direction. She seems to be wearing a skirt. How strange. Maybe I should stay on the same side of the path that I have previously found quite suitable for my purposes up until now. Maybe... No. I’m going to swerve onto her side of the path. And just stop. Because I am a douchebag.
I didn’t want to say this, but children are such dickheads when they want to be. I’m not talking about teenagers here. No. I’m talking four year olds, six year olds. Maybe a few of them were seven or eight. Every single one of them singlemindedly determined to make me run straight into them and topple ass over tit. Who would be the bad guy in this scenario? That’s right. I would be. How dare I knock over little Ethan on his brand new razor scooter that he got for his fifth birthday? I’m some sort of monster. Why couldn’t I just run on the grass and leave the path for these assholes and their asshole children?
</rant>
Yeah, running in the park at midday was fun, but a little more crowded with inconsiderate dicks than usual.
And that’s not to mention the bees.
I’m going to mention the bees now.
Across the road from my apartment building is the CIT Bruce campus. They’ve been doing it up, prettifying the joint, with cool educational TAFE-y things like greenhouses. Agriculture stuff. And, unfortunately, a big long row of beehives. You wouldn’t think it’d be a problem to have that many beehives right next to the fence, would you?
I think the bees went out for walkies this morning. I was running along, adjusting my iPod because I’d already heard the podcast that it was playing. And then I saw a bee. I was all like ‘agh! bee!’ and I ran a bit faster to outrun the bee. In doing so, I ran right into A GIANT MOTHERFRICKIN SWARM OF BEES. I’m talking dozens of the little bastards. Maybe a hundred. Maybe two hundred. A whole lotta bees. They don’t like people running through their midst. Especially people who are in the process of freaking out because they just ran into a swarm of bees. So yeah. The bees chased me. I may have yelped, I wouldn’t say I screamed, but I’ll accept that there could have been a yelp there. I ran out onto the road to escape the bees. A car almost hit me. I think I had a pretty good excuse. I hope the guy saw the bees and didn’t just think I was an asshole runner who ignores road rules.
I don’t like bees.
But I didn’t get stung, so it’s all good.
Ridiculously fast, it would seem. I went ten kilometres, and all in under an hour. I didn’t feel like I was running at race pace, just running. So maybe I am getting faster after all. My theory is that I was going faster to try to keep myself focused, in some subconscious way. Whatever, it worked. Feeling good, folks. Apart from, well... there were a few things.
Children on freaking bicycles, and those stupid scooter things. What goes through their minds? Oh, there’s a girl running in this direction. She seems to be wearing a skirt. How strange. Maybe I should stay on the same side of the path that I have previously found quite suitable for my purposes up until now. Maybe... No. I’m going to swerve onto her side of the path. And just stop. Because I am a douchebag.
I didn’t want to say this, but children are such dickheads when they want to be. I’m not talking about teenagers here. No. I’m talking four year olds, six year olds. Maybe a few of them were seven or eight. Every single one of them singlemindedly determined to make me run straight into them and topple ass over tit. Who would be the bad guy in this scenario? That’s right. I would be. How dare I knock over little Ethan on his brand new razor scooter that he got for his fifth birthday? I’m some sort of monster. Why couldn’t I just run on the grass and leave the path for these assholes and their asshole children?
</rant>
Yeah, running in the park at midday was fun, but a little more crowded with inconsiderate dicks than usual.
And that’s not to mention the bees.
I’m going to mention the bees now.
Across the road from my apartment building is the CIT Bruce campus. They’ve been doing it up, prettifying the joint, with cool educational TAFE-y things like greenhouses. Agriculture stuff. And, unfortunately, a big long row of beehives. You wouldn’t think it’d be a problem to have that many beehives right next to the fence, would you?
I think the bees went out for walkies this morning. I was running along, adjusting my iPod because I’d already heard the podcast that it was playing. And then I saw a bee. I was all like ‘agh! bee!’ and I ran a bit faster to outrun the bee. In doing so, I ran right into A GIANT MOTHERFRICKIN SWARM OF BEES. I’m talking dozens of the little bastards. Maybe a hundred. Maybe two hundred. A whole lotta bees. They don’t like people running through their midst. Especially people who are in the process of freaking out because they just ran into a swarm of bees. So yeah. The bees chased me. I may have yelped, I wouldn’t say I screamed, but I’ll accept that there could have been a yelp there. I ran out onto the road to escape the bees. A car almost hit me. I think I had a pretty good excuse. I hope the guy saw the bees and didn’t just think I was an asshole runner who ignores road rules.
I don’t like bees.
But I didn’t get stung, so it’s all good.
Friday, October 7, 2011
A more updatey update
I ran a Sri Chimnoy 10k on Monday. A great way to spend a public holiday, and I got a good workout. I showed up at the start about an hour before the race was going to happen, which was only a problem because it was FRIGGING FREEZING. I thought I was going to lose a thumb from frostbite. I didn’t, but I thought I might.
I’m not tough or hardcore. I ran in a tank top in the end, but with gloves on. I think my hands have bad circulation, because my arms are usually fine when my hands are screaming in pain from the cold.
Finished in a time of about 60 minutes, 12 seconds. Not bad.
Now, I’ve been looking into what I want to do next, race-wise. I have decided to do this:
The 2012 Cadbury Half Marathon!!!
It’s such a sweet deal. You get race entry at a discounted rate if you sign up with irun.org.au, which is free. When you finish, they give you a medal (which I always like. I should take a photo of my medal board), a t-shirt, a goody bag that just has to contain chocolate (amiright?) and a free bbq at the finish. And then you get a year’s subscription to R4YL magazine. And there’s a training program. And it’s in Tasmania. I’ve never been to Tasmania. Anyways, I just registered. I got the leave approved at work. Now I’ve just got to book the accommodation. I’ll probably spend like a week there and see all the sights. Assuming there are sights, aren’t there?
I’m not tough or hardcore. I ran in a tank top in the end, but with gloves on. I think my hands have bad circulation, because my arms are usually fine when my hands are screaming in pain from the cold.
Finished in a time of about 60 minutes, 12 seconds. Not bad.
Now, I’ve been looking into what I want to do next, race-wise. I have decided to do this:
The 2012 Cadbury Half Marathon!!!
It’s such a sweet deal. You get race entry at a discounted rate if you sign up with irun.org.au, which is free. When you finish, they give you a medal (which I always like. I should take a photo of my medal board), a t-shirt, a goody bag that just has to contain chocolate (amiright?) and a free bbq at the finish. And then you get a year’s subscription to R4YL magazine. And there’s a training program. And it’s in Tasmania. I’ve never been to Tasmania. Anyways, I just registered. I got the leave approved at work. Now I’ve just got to book the accommodation. I’ll probably spend like a week there and see all the sights. Assuming there are sights, aren’t there?
Monday, October 3, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Looking toward... Something. A half?
Friday morning, I got up bright and early. Wait, scratch the ‘bright’. Emphasise the ‘early’. I somehow managed to bludgeon myself into some semblance of consciousness and get out on the road at 6:15. Saw the massive plume of smoke coming from the Mitchell chemical fire thing. I was glad I was running in the other direction. Then I plodded all the way to work.
The distance was about 17.5 km in the end. I think I may have mis-plotted the route I was going to take. Also, got a little lost in around Yarralumla Bay. Nothing too devastating.
I was absolutely starving all day at work. Gorged on cake and associated goodies at the Divisional morning tea. Then ate two massive chicken tacos for lunch. Then, if I wasn’t tired enough, I went to a Les Mills Body Balance class after work. Then, a Zumba class. Came home and completely crashed.
I feel like doing a half marathon sometime soon. I think I’m up for it. Can’t seem to find any appropriate races in the Coolrunning calendar though. Maybe the Mount Majura two peaks run in October? Both peaks is 20 km. But it is mountain running. Might be a little too hardcore for me. Hmm. I’ll have to think about this.
The distance was about 17.5 km in the end. I think I may have mis-plotted the route I was going to take. Also, got a little lost in around Yarralumla Bay. Nothing too devastating.
I was absolutely starving all day at work. Gorged on cake and associated goodies at the Divisional morning tea. Then ate two massive chicken tacos for lunch. Then, if I wasn’t tired enough, I went to a Les Mills Body Balance class after work. Then, a Zumba class. Came home and completely crashed.
I feel like doing a half marathon sometime soon. I think I’m up for it. Can’t seem to find any appropriate races in the Coolrunning calendar though. Maybe the Mount Majura two peaks run in October? Both peaks is 20 km. But it is mountain running. Might be a little too hardcore for me. Hmm. I’ll have to think about this.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Past triumphs, and future challenges
So yeah. I ran the Canberra Times 10km fun run in a Little Red Riding Hood Outfit. Observe.
The watermark is because I’m too cheap to buy my race photos.
Here is my outfit in all its glory prior to the race. Note the sexy chicky I’m standing next to. She’s awesome.
This isn’t going to be a really pic-heavy post. Nor is it going to be very content-heavy, so I apologise in advance.
I guess I just need something to run toward, so to speak. Goals are awesome. I have no goals. I need goals, at least in the interim before I start training for the Canberra Marathon next year.
I haven’t mentioned that yet, have I? Yeah. I’m doing the marathon again. I think the five months or so since my first mara has caused me to forget how much agony I was in. Maybe it’s the same as people who just keep on having children. Pain + Time = Amnesia. Or something.
The Canberra Times Fun Run was easy. Very easy. Too easy? I don’t know. I was just having so much fun. I’ve never run that far with someone before. We chatted the whole way, and it seemed like the shortest 10k of my life. Next time, I’m just going to have to push myself just that little bit more. Aim for a PB. Get in the zone.
Anyway, tomorrow is the Cancer Council National Walk to Work Day. I decided, just for the heck of it, I was going to run to work. It’s only 16 kilometres from Bruce to Woden. The only thing that bothers me is having to get up at 5am so I can get on the road nice and early. I will be running in standard running attire. I’m going to save the dresses for special occasions.
The watermark is because I’m too cheap to buy my race photos.
Here is my outfit in all its glory prior to the race. Note the sexy chicky I’m standing next to. She’s awesome.
This isn’t going to be a really pic-heavy post. Nor is it going to be very content-heavy, so I apologise in advance.
I guess I just need something to run toward, so to speak. Goals are awesome. I have no goals. I need goals, at least in the interim before I start training for the Canberra Marathon next year.
I haven’t mentioned that yet, have I? Yeah. I’m doing the marathon again. I think the five months or so since my first mara has caused me to forget how much agony I was in. Maybe it’s the same as people who just keep on having children. Pain + Time = Amnesia. Or something.
The Canberra Times Fun Run was easy. Very easy. Too easy? I don’t know. I was just having so much fun. I’ve never run that far with someone before. We chatted the whole way, and it seemed like the shortest 10k of my life. Next time, I’m just going to have to push myself just that little bit more. Aim for a PB. Get in the zone.
Anyway, tomorrow is the Cancer Council National Walk to Work Day. I decided, just for the heck of it, I was going to run to work. It’s only 16 kilometres from Bruce to Woden. The only thing that bothers me is having to get up at 5am so I can get on the road nice and early. I will be running in standard running attire. I’m going to save the dresses for special occasions.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Special delivery!
I just walked to Jamison to pick up a package that the lovely courier folks didn’t even bother to try to deliver this morning. It usually happens, no big deal, but I was hoping they wouldn’t force me to come back and get it tomorrow, because I knew it was at the damn post office. They gave it to me, after a small amount of bickering over the fact that I don’t have any ID with my address on it. Like, seriously? Just because I stumble over my street name. I’ll have you know that the post office were the ones who told me I was using the wrong address in the first place. I’m just trying to do the right thing, and surprise surprise, I’m the one who gets punished.
What was I saying?
Oh yeah, the package.
I just got my outfit for the Canberra Times 10k, and it exceeds my every expectation. Don’t worry, photos will be coming. I’ll suffice it to say that I decided to dress as little red riding hood, in the understanding that these outfits tend to be flimsy and badly constructed, thus having a white peasant blouse top to the dress (as in all the dirndl-style outfits) would be ever so slightly indelicate when I get sweaty or, as is likely to happen in a race, I pour water all over myself.
My dress is red, and short, and it has black lacy frills at the neck and white puffy sleeves and white lace on the hem. It’s shiny, and red, and plaid. It has a velveteen cape with black lace. I’ve made the command decision not to wear the little shiny black vinyl waist cincher, as I just don’t want to run in it and the outfit looks a lot more appropriate without it. I was initially concerned about the propriety of this kind of outfit to begin with, but seriously people, I’m going to be wearing basically a full running outfit underneath the dress. Shorts, full sports bra. All I need to buy now is a white lacy petticoat to make the skirt all puffy, and a little basket to carry. I can put goodies in my basket.
If I really get into it I can run past people, screaming pleas for a little help, a little direction.
“DO YOU KNOW THE WAY TO GRANDMA’S HOUSE? I’M LOST HERE, PEOPLE.”
In lieu of photos of myself wearing the outfit, as it just isn’t finished yet, here is a photo of the costume as worn by someone who is a great deal sexier than I am.
What was I saying?
Oh yeah, the package.
I just got my outfit for the Canberra Times 10k, and it exceeds my every expectation. Don’t worry, photos will be coming. I’ll suffice it to say that I decided to dress as little red riding hood, in the understanding that these outfits tend to be flimsy and badly constructed, thus having a white peasant blouse top to the dress (as in all the dirndl-style outfits) would be ever so slightly indelicate when I get sweaty or, as is likely to happen in a race, I pour water all over myself.
My dress is red, and short, and it has black lacy frills at the neck and white puffy sleeves and white lace on the hem. It’s shiny, and red, and plaid. It has a velveteen cape with black lace. I’ve made the command decision not to wear the little shiny black vinyl waist cincher, as I just don’t want to run in it and the outfit looks a lot more appropriate without it. I was initially concerned about the propriety of this kind of outfit to begin with, but seriously people, I’m going to be wearing basically a full running outfit underneath the dress. Shorts, full sports bra. All I need to buy now is a white lacy petticoat to make the skirt all puffy, and a little basket to carry. I can put goodies in my basket.
If I really get into it I can run past people, screaming pleas for a little help, a little direction.
“DO YOU KNOW THE WAY TO GRANDMA’S HOUSE? I’M LOST HERE, PEOPLE.”
In lieu of photos of myself wearing the outfit, as it just isn’t finished yet, here is a photo of the costume as worn by someone who is a great deal sexier than I am.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
A crisis of indecision
Yes, forgot to write yesterday. Always intended to. Actually ran, too. Did you miss me?
I did a nice 14k. Nothing too daunting, even got out there fairly early. Lovely. It’s nice to occasionally go harder/further than I really need to, it makes me feel like I’m running because I love it and not because I have some event or another in my sights. Not that it’s an issue to have something to train for. Quite the contrary. I love to have an event booked. Fun runs are the coolest thing ever, no matter how much I may curse myself for my masochism during one of the said fun runs. It’s just not the be-all and end-all. I would still run if I didn’t have races, but I wouldn’t feel that sense of achievement you get from running at race pace.
I’m so tired today. I forgot what I was talking about. What was it? Oh yeah. I had a nice easy 14k yesterday, even though I probably could have done with some of the energy I expended, later in the day. It has been quite a tiring weekend, all things considered.
Looking at the title of this post, I suddenly remember the point I was supposed to be aiming for. I’m currently looking for a costume for the Canberra Times 10k, and I’ve found a cute little dress, pink and green and brown with little bows and things. There was another that was cuter but it was all in white with a maroon skirt. I know I’ll be wearing a sports bra underneath, but all the same I’d feel self-conscious about it. I feel like buying my costume now but I’m still hesitant. Maybe a little red riding hood outfit would be more fitting, with a little basket to carry? I don’t know. So many choices.
I did a nice 14k. Nothing too daunting, even got out there fairly early. Lovely. It’s nice to occasionally go harder/further than I really need to, it makes me feel like I’m running because I love it and not because I have some event or another in my sights. Not that it’s an issue to have something to train for. Quite the contrary. I love to have an event booked. Fun runs are the coolest thing ever, no matter how much I may curse myself for my masochism during one of the said fun runs. It’s just not the be-all and end-all. I would still run if I didn’t have races, but I wouldn’t feel that sense of achievement you get from running at race pace.
I’m so tired today. I forgot what I was talking about. What was it? Oh yeah. I had a nice easy 14k yesterday, even though I probably could have done with some of the energy I expended, later in the day. It has been quite a tiring weekend, all things considered.
Looking at the title of this post, I suddenly remember the point I was supposed to be aiming for. I’m currently looking for a costume for the Canberra Times 10k, and I’ve found a cute little dress, pink and green and brown with little bows and things. There was another that was cuter but it was all in white with a maroon skirt. I know I’ll be wearing a sports bra underneath, but all the same I’d feel self-conscious about it. I feel like buying my costume now but I’m still hesitant. Maybe a little red riding hood outfit would be more fitting, with a little basket to carry? I don’t know. So many choices.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Speedy Gonzales? I think not.
I had serious difficulty getting out of bed this morning, probably due to my less than early night last night. My alarm went off at 6:30, which is a perfect time for running, at least at this time of year. Not too dark, and it’s not too late when you get home, depending on your mileage of course. However, I didn’t get out of bed until 7, and when I finally did get out there (at 7:45 or thereabouts) I was not really in my best form. I ran slow the whole way, seven minute kilometres for the most part, but nothing hurt and I wasn’t feeling out of sorts. I was just slow. Probably due to the race last Sunday, but I’m not sure.
It was an uneventful run for the most part. The only thing I was curious about was that my fastest kilometre was the second to last one, bizarre in that it’s all on a pretty steep uphill. Could I have taken eight kms to hit my stride? Or am I just a masochist who speeds up on hills? Maybe it’s due to the fact that prior to the hill I was listening to a podcast (Sex Nerd Sandra, from the Nerdist) and then I switched to the new Zumba release. Music might be the key here. All in all, a fairly disappointing 10 kms, but at least I’m getting out there.
It was an uneventful run for the most part. The only thing I was curious about was that my fastest kilometre was the second to last one, bizarre in that it’s all on a pretty steep uphill. Could I have taken eight kms to hit my stride? Or am I just a masochist who speeds up on hills? Maybe it’s due to the fact that prior to the hill I was listening to a podcast (Sex Nerd Sandra, from the Nerdist) and then I switched to the new Zumba release. Music might be the key here. All in all, a fairly disappointing 10 kms, but at least I’m getting out there.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Meep meep!
Official City2Surf Net Time: 1:24:55
Many thanks to mum for acquiring the time for me and texting it to me at work. I couldn’t wait to find out!
As you can see with the time above, I managed to beat last year’s time for the City2Surf.
In the most eloquent terms - YEAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I was, I admit, a little hungover at the start line. I had about five or six glasses of champagne the night before in the Club Lounge at the Sheraton on the Park (my home away from home when I’m in Sydney) and hardly any water to chase them. I also ate a hearty breakfast prior to the start, and if you’ll excuse a little too much information (I apologise in advance) my breakfast kept on coming back up to say hello over the first ten or so kilometres of the race. I never actually vomited, which is a plus, but I had a bit of... unpleasantness.
My legs felt like crap as we crossed the start line, and my lungs started to give me hell after the first kilometre in a way that made me think I was going to be walking a large portion of the way. I felt disheartened, like I’d cheated myself out of a good race. The first little hill (just as you head toward the tunnel) was way harder than it was supposed to be.
I’m going to assume that these issues came from not being warmed up, at all. It was also a bit cool at the start - in Sydney standards, mind you. Canberra folks are made of hardier stuff. It was grey, and it drizzled a little before the start, but I was too focused on my own pain to care even if it was raining (and I don’t think it really was raining). At the first drink stop, I got a cup of water and poured it down my neck and back as I walked through, drinking another. As soon as I got back into my stride, I felt good. Actually, I felt great. The cold water gave me the shock I needed to harden up and get on with it.
Heartbreak Hill? More like a speed bump. I noticed coins on the road, a fifty cent coin here, a five cent there. They started halfway up the hill (or at least that’s where I noticed the first one) and I followed them all the way up the slope. A welcome distraction. Actually, there were coins on the road all the way down to Bondi. Someone had a hole in their pocket, methinks.
Mum didn’t catch me at the finish line, but I didn’t catch her either, unfortunately. It was a great run though, and even though there was no live rock band on the pub roof this year (something I always keep my eye out for) there was a jazz band (or maybe two), cheerleaders (multiple), some very well dressed drag queens and the obligatory smurfs, presumably drinking at nine am on a Sunday.
Recovery wasn’t too much fun. I was tired as hell after the race, and that continued until yesterday. Starting to feel a little more like myself now, but I’ve still got the pain in the front of my thighs that comes with a two kilometre sprint at the end of a race at what was at least for me a blistering pace.
All in all, very happy with this year’s race.
Very happy indeed.
(ps. Love this pic, but unfortunately my medal was flipped around so you can’t see it. It’s a pity. And yes, I’m a dork. I’ve cross-posted this pic everywhere because it’s awesome and I look like a big awesome dork in it.)
Many thanks to mum for acquiring the time for me and texting it to me at work. I couldn’t wait to find out!
As you can see with the time above, I managed to beat last year’s time for the City2Surf.
In the most eloquent terms - YEAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I was, I admit, a little hungover at the start line. I had about five or six glasses of champagne the night before in the Club Lounge at the Sheraton on the Park (my home away from home when I’m in Sydney) and hardly any water to chase them. I also ate a hearty breakfast prior to the start, and if you’ll excuse a little too much information (I apologise in advance) my breakfast kept on coming back up to say hello over the first ten or so kilometres of the race. I never actually vomited, which is a plus, but I had a bit of... unpleasantness.
My legs felt like crap as we crossed the start line, and my lungs started to give me hell after the first kilometre in a way that made me think I was going to be walking a large portion of the way. I felt disheartened, like I’d cheated myself out of a good race. The first little hill (just as you head toward the tunnel) was way harder than it was supposed to be.
I’m going to assume that these issues came from not being warmed up, at all. It was also a bit cool at the start - in Sydney standards, mind you. Canberra folks are made of hardier stuff. It was grey, and it drizzled a little before the start, but I was too focused on my own pain to care even if it was raining (and I don’t think it really was raining). At the first drink stop, I got a cup of water and poured it down my neck and back as I walked through, drinking another. As soon as I got back into my stride, I felt good. Actually, I felt great. The cold water gave me the shock I needed to harden up and get on with it.
Heartbreak Hill? More like a speed bump. I noticed coins on the road, a fifty cent coin here, a five cent there. They started halfway up the hill (or at least that’s where I noticed the first one) and I followed them all the way up the slope. A welcome distraction. Actually, there were coins on the road all the way down to Bondi. Someone had a hole in their pocket, methinks.
Mum didn’t catch me at the finish line, but I didn’t catch her either, unfortunately. It was a great run though, and even though there was no live rock band on the pub roof this year (something I always keep my eye out for) there was a jazz band (or maybe two), cheerleaders (multiple), some very well dressed drag queens and the obligatory smurfs, presumably drinking at nine am on a Sunday.
Recovery wasn’t too much fun. I was tired as hell after the race, and that continued until yesterday. Starting to feel a little more like myself now, but I’ve still got the pain in the front of my thighs that comes with a two kilometre sprint at the end of a race at what was at least for me a blistering pace.
All in all, very happy with this year’s race.
Very happy indeed.
(ps. Love this pic, but unfortunately my medal was flipped around so you can’t see it. It’s a pity. And yes, I’m a dork. I’ve cross-posted this pic everywhere because it’s awesome and I look like a big awesome dork in it.)
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Cough cough cough
Alright, one week out, I thought I’d give the rundown on the run-up to the City2Surf.
I took one step forward with my training, then I took a pretty big step back. Inexplicably, I got sick again. A viral lung infection, leading to a great deal of coughing, at times coughing up blood. Had to get a puffer as my old friend bronchial asthma decided to come back and say hello. I’ve been barely able to breathe, and I haven’t run in two weeks.
This morning I hoped to get a quick 14k in (as I was hungover yesterday from my birthday on Friday. My own fault, I’m not going to try to rationalise) but when I hit the turnaround point on the first bridge heading around Lake Gininderra I took stock of my breathing, took stock of my legs, and decided to go on back and leave it at 10k. My legs were fine, great even, but I had a tightness in my chest that I didn’t want to push. I felt like I had enough steam to confidently jog up College Street on the way back, didn’t even have an issue on the last piece of Hayden Drive, which usually pushes me into the anaerobic and is never comfortable. I think I’ll do fine in the big race, but I know it won’t be anything special.
On the costume front, I didn’t have time to source a costume online so I went to the Funny Shop in Civic to look for something. I found exactly the costume I was looking for, in brown, unfortunately, but the price made me pause. $90 or thereabouts, for a crappy cheap ‘sexy beer wench’ costume! Outrageous! I know I could get exactly the same thing, maybe even in blue or pink or purple, on the internet for maybe $30. So I made a decision. City2Surf, I’ll wear my usual boring gear. I’ll plan my costume for the Canberra Times 10k, and hope not to embarrass the crap out of my pal Dina, whom I’m going to be pacing in said race.
I took one step forward with my training, then I took a pretty big step back. Inexplicably, I got sick again. A viral lung infection, leading to a great deal of coughing, at times coughing up blood. Had to get a puffer as my old friend bronchial asthma decided to come back and say hello. I’ve been barely able to breathe, and I haven’t run in two weeks.
This morning I hoped to get a quick 14k in (as I was hungover yesterday from my birthday on Friday. My own fault, I’m not going to try to rationalise) but when I hit the turnaround point on the first bridge heading around Lake Gininderra I took stock of my breathing, took stock of my legs, and decided to go on back and leave it at 10k. My legs were fine, great even, but I had a tightness in my chest that I didn’t want to push. I felt like I had enough steam to confidently jog up College Street on the way back, didn’t even have an issue on the last piece of Hayden Drive, which usually pushes me into the anaerobic and is never comfortable. I think I’ll do fine in the big race, but I know it won’t be anything special.
On the costume front, I didn’t have time to source a costume online so I went to the Funny Shop in Civic to look for something. I found exactly the costume I was looking for, in brown, unfortunately, but the price made me pause. $90 or thereabouts, for a crappy cheap ‘sexy beer wench’ costume! Outrageous! I know I could get exactly the same thing, maybe even in blue or pink or purple, on the internet for maybe $30. So I made a decision. City2Surf, I’ll wear my usual boring gear. I’ll plan my costume for the Canberra Times 10k, and hope not to embarrass the crap out of my pal Dina, whom I’m going to be pacing in said race.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
I'm back, baby!
This morning I ran 14k and it felt GREAT. Actually, I should clarify. I felt terrible to begin with, had niggles all the way, but after I managed the run and with nary a kilometre at slower than a 6:30 pace, I feel enlivened and reassured and recommitted to kicking butt at the City2Surf.
It felt like it was going to be a tough one going out, my knee was hurting from the outset and I could feel that my form wasn’t very good, so I concentrated on making sure my toes weren’t clenching inside my shoes (a terrible habit, I think I picked it up with an old pair of shoes that were badly fitted, and my feet slipped back and forth badly), turning my hips out properly, and keeping my shoulders loose. I didn’t really watch my pace at all, alternating between obsessing about my form and distracting myself with the latest Zumba instructor CD. I must have had the energy to burn though, as I don’t feel like I was going out too hard and I finished the 14k in under an hour and a half. I don’t know if aiming for an 80 minute C2S is really feasible, but I’m not going to hold myself back on that account. I’m going to go for it. Eye of the tiger, etc.
I think it’s the tilt on the footpaths that causes my hip clickin’ evilness and my left knee problems. I can also really feel the transition between the different surfaces more than I used to. Pavement isn’t as springy, and tarmac bike paths don’t cause as much impact up my legs.
On the costume front, I think I want to run the City 2 Surf in something like this:
Yes indeedy. A dirndl. Then I can run straight to the pub after the race. What do you folks reckon?
It felt like it was going to be a tough one going out, my knee was hurting from the outset and I could feel that my form wasn’t very good, so I concentrated on making sure my toes weren’t clenching inside my shoes (a terrible habit, I think I picked it up with an old pair of shoes that were badly fitted, and my feet slipped back and forth badly), turning my hips out properly, and keeping my shoulders loose. I didn’t really watch my pace at all, alternating between obsessing about my form and distracting myself with the latest Zumba instructor CD. I must have had the energy to burn though, as I don’t feel like I was going out too hard and I finished the 14k in under an hour and a half. I don’t know if aiming for an 80 minute C2S is really feasible, but I’m not going to hold myself back on that account. I’m going to go for it. Eye of the tiger, etc.
I think it’s the tilt on the footpaths that causes my hip clickin’ evilness and my left knee problems. I can also really feel the transition between the different surfaces more than I used to. Pavement isn’t as springy, and tarmac bike paths don’t cause as much impact up my legs.
On the costume front, I think I want to run the City 2 Surf in something like this:
Yes indeedy. A dirndl. Then I can run straight to the pub after the race. What do you folks reckon?
Thursday, July 21, 2011
State of Affairs
Okay. It’s two thirds of the way through July. The City2Surf is in... 24 days. I have barely trained.
I had a cold at one point. Eh. It’s not important. It’s all excuses. I’m going to spare myself the rationalisation.
I haven’t run at all this week. I did a 12k on Saturday, slow as hell. A couple of 6k staggers home during last week. Before that, a half-hearted 9k on the previous Saturday.
I think my performance will be seriously lacking at the race, so there is only one question now.
What ridiculous costume should I wear to run the City2Surf?
This is the way I figure it - I’m probably going to run the whole way, not in a spectacular fashion but not breaking any records. I will feel like I’ve wasted my potential.
BUT, if I run in a stupid (and hopefully lightweight) costume, I will feel like a massive tool, and other race participants will treat me accordingly. Plus, it has always looked like a great deal of fun.
So what do you reckon, silent blogosphere? Little red riding hood? A simple tutu?
I had a cold at one point. Eh. It’s not important. It’s all excuses. I’m going to spare myself the rationalisation.
I haven’t run at all this week. I did a 12k on Saturday, slow as hell. A couple of 6k staggers home during last week. Before that, a half-hearted 9k on the previous Saturday.
I think my performance will be seriously lacking at the race, so there is only one question now.
What ridiculous costume should I wear to run the City2Surf?
This is the way I figure it - I’m probably going to run the whole way, not in a spectacular fashion but not breaking any records. I will feel like I’ve wasted my potential.
BUT, if I run in a stupid (and hopefully lightweight) costume, I will feel like a massive tool, and other race participants will treat me accordingly. Plus, it has always looked like a great deal of fun.
So what do you reckon, silent blogosphere? Little red riding hood? A simple tutu?
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Click, click, CLICK CLICK CLICK
Alrighty. Back to the grind.
My burlesque class this morning was cancelled, so I decided a Saturday morning run was on the cards. I’ve always found it easier to run on Saturdays than Sundays, as evidenced by not having done a long run in weeks and weeks and weeks.
I tried to keep my pace down and my heart rate manageable, but my garmin died after about a kilometre so after that I don’t know how fast I was running.
I don’t know why the garmin died. It was on the charge until about five minutes before I went out running, and has been sitting on the charge for quite a while. Maybe the charge bleeds if it’s sitting there on full battery for too long? I don’t know. Hope I haven’t killed the poor thing.
I made it to about twelve kilometres before my right hip started hurting like a bitch and I had to stop and walk. Then, this little piggy went click click click click all the way home.
Less than two months until the City 2 Surf!
My burlesque class this morning was cancelled, so I decided a Saturday morning run was on the cards. I’ve always found it easier to run on Saturdays than Sundays, as evidenced by not having done a long run in weeks and weeks and weeks.
I tried to keep my pace down and my heart rate manageable, but my garmin died after about a kilometre so after that I don’t know how fast I was running.
I don’t know why the garmin died. It was on the charge until about five minutes before I went out running, and has been sitting on the charge for quite a while. Maybe the charge bleeds if it’s sitting there on full battery for too long? I don’t know. Hope I haven’t killed the poor thing.
I made it to about twelve kilometres before my right hip started hurting like a bitch and I had to stop and walk. Then, this little piggy went click click click click all the way home.
Less than two months until the City 2 Surf!
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Who's a naughty girl, then?
I have no excuses. At this point, I haven’t run a whole lot in the last couple of weeks.
I’ll do better.
I ran home from work today. It’s the first time I’ve done that in quite a while. It was dark, and everything. Next time, flashy light and headlamp will have to be part of my outfit, methinks.
I’ll do better.
I ran home from work today. It’s the first time I’ve done that in quite a while. It was dark, and everything. Next time, flashy light and headlamp will have to be part of my outfit, methinks.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Race? Or, training run?
I’m heading off to run the Mother’s Day Classic 10k this morning. I wouldn’t hazard a guess to how long it’s going to take me, considering I haven’t really trained at all, and didn’t run at all last week. If I can get in at under 60 minutes, I’ll count it as a win and move on, but it wont be the end of the world if I can’t crack the 60 minute barrier. But... I have done it before. No. Just because I’m on fairly fresh legs right now I shouldn’t be stupid and aim for a PB. Even though the course is certified.
Agh. I don’t know.
I’d better go get ready.
Agh. I don’t know.
I’d better go get ready.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
The lazy picture post
This is my reward to myself for a job well done. I gotta say, though, it did hurt a bit more than some of my other tattoos because my ankles are getting so bony.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
The Post-Run Rundown
As the time listed officially on the website and the time I got from my Garmin are four minutes apart, I don’t want to even hazard a guess to the ACTUAL time it took me to run the marathon, but I’m going to err on the conservative side and use my gun time of 4:52:50.
I wasn’t aiming for any particular time, and at times during the race I doubted that a finish was even possible, but I’ve gotta say that I’m relieved I got in under 5 hours. That summarises my mental state, ever since i crossed the finish line.
RELIEF.
I am so glad that it’s over. I’ve never encountered anything as difficult or emotional in my entire life.
I started the race nervous and not particularly warmed up, pulling out my iPod pretty much the moment I crossed the start line to provide some necessary distraction. As usual, I found myself pulled along by the crowd for the first couple of kilometres before I reined myself in, realising that a large proportion of the crowd was running at their half marathon pace, not their marathon pace. I settled for a 6:30km pace, as it seemed comfortable to me (but not too comfortable). For the first 21 km, I continued in this manner, pretty strong, pretty confident. I chatted to some other people, surprisingly. I enjoyed the scenery. And then, things got hard.
My left leg started to niggle at me at the halfway point, and I started to feel a little iffy despite having already consumed two gels (one at 10k, another at 18k or thereabouts). I had stopped at a public toilet somewhere along the way, but even that short respite hadn’t perked me up at all. I found myself counting down kilometre to kilometre, which is a bad habit to get into too early. The rain was relentless, and it was cold. More than anything, I wanted to stop and go home. I made it to the 28 km mark, where slower runners would be diverted along the bike paths after 3 hours. I missed the cut-off by less than 2 minutes. I was devastated. On the bike path along the lakeside, with minimal signage and a drastically reduced crowd, I felt like I was the only marathon runner left on the road. It was a dismal and depressing feeling.
At 31 km, I lost all the energy in my legs. My speed had been flagging for a couple of kilometres, increasing from 6:30 to 6:45, to 7:20. I hit the wall. I ran out of energy. I started crying, pulled out my phone. I wailed at Simon that I was done, I couldn’t run anymore, I had failed. He asked me if I was going to finish. I said I would try, but I couldn’t run. He told me he was proud of me, he told me he knew I could do it.
Somehow, I kept going. I had to walk, in short spurts, and when I ran my legs were like lead. But I kept going. When I made it to the final turn-around point, I could barely believe it. Somewhere along the way, another runner going in the other direction told me not to run again if I’d started walking, or at least that’s what it sounded like. But I couldn’t give up. I ran, then I walked, then when I got to the 41 km mark, I just ran.
Nothing can beat the feeling when I approached the finish line and I saw Simon, and my mum, and I knew it was over.
Even now, two days after finishing the race, everything hurts. This is a testament to how much strain my body was under. My legs scream at me every time I stand up, and the pain radiates from my neck, all the way down my body. Mystery bruises are everywhere. My right hip clicks when I move, my left knee does the same.
I’m heading out to get my marathon tattoo tomorrow. Hopefully my legs will be recovered enough by then that it’s not an unpleasant experience.
Then, I need to figure out what to aim for next. A triathlon? Another half? Another full? An ultra? Nah. Not an ultra. I’ll need to give it some thought.
I wasn’t aiming for any particular time, and at times during the race I doubted that a finish was even possible, but I’ve gotta say that I’m relieved I got in under 5 hours. That summarises my mental state, ever since i crossed the finish line.
RELIEF.
I am so glad that it’s over. I’ve never encountered anything as difficult or emotional in my entire life.
I started the race nervous and not particularly warmed up, pulling out my iPod pretty much the moment I crossed the start line to provide some necessary distraction. As usual, I found myself pulled along by the crowd for the first couple of kilometres before I reined myself in, realising that a large proportion of the crowd was running at their half marathon pace, not their marathon pace. I settled for a 6:30km pace, as it seemed comfortable to me (but not too comfortable). For the first 21 km, I continued in this manner, pretty strong, pretty confident. I chatted to some other people, surprisingly. I enjoyed the scenery. And then, things got hard.
My left leg started to niggle at me at the halfway point, and I started to feel a little iffy despite having already consumed two gels (one at 10k, another at 18k or thereabouts). I had stopped at a public toilet somewhere along the way, but even that short respite hadn’t perked me up at all. I found myself counting down kilometre to kilometre, which is a bad habit to get into too early. The rain was relentless, and it was cold. More than anything, I wanted to stop and go home. I made it to the 28 km mark, where slower runners would be diverted along the bike paths after 3 hours. I missed the cut-off by less than 2 minutes. I was devastated. On the bike path along the lakeside, with minimal signage and a drastically reduced crowd, I felt like I was the only marathon runner left on the road. It was a dismal and depressing feeling.
At 31 km, I lost all the energy in my legs. My speed had been flagging for a couple of kilometres, increasing from 6:30 to 6:45, to 7:20. I hit the wall. I ran out of energy. I started crying, pulled out my phone. I wailed at Simon that I was done, I couldn’t run anymore, I had failed. He asked me if I was going to finish. I said I would try, but I couldn’t run. He told me he was proud of me, he told me he knew I could do it.
Somehow, I kept going. I had to walk, in short spurts, and when I ran my legs were like lead. But I kept going. When I made it to the final turn-around point, I could barely believe it. Somewhere along the way, another runner going in the other direction told me not to run again if I’d started walking, or at least that’s what it sounded like. But I couldn’t give up. I ran, then I walked, then when I got to the 41 km mark, I just ran.
Nothing can beat the feeling when I approached the finish line and I saw Simon, and my mum, and I knew it was over.
Even now, two days after finishing the race, everything hurts. This is a testament to how much strain my body was under. My legs scream at me every time I stand up, and the pain radiates from my neck, all the way down my body. Mystery bruises are everywhere. My right hip clicks when I move, my left knee does the same.
I’m heading out to get my marathon tattoo tomorrow. Hopefully my legs will be recovered enough by then that it’s not an unpleasant experience.
Then, I need to figure out what to aim for next. A triathlon? Another half? Another full? An ultra? Nah. Not an ultra. I’ll need to give it some thought.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
The Final Countdown
So here it is. Just about twelve hours until the marathon. I am shit-scared.
I ran home on Tuesday, even though I wasn’t sure I should, but I was worried that I had undertrained and that I must be losing fitness. Even though I’ve been able to stop thinking about it for most of the week, I’m still afraid that I haven’t trained enough. I feel like I’ve been boring everybody to tears with my worrying and complaining and nerves.
I just made my playlists, got my clothes together, and made sure my electrical devices are charged or charging.
I still feel like I’ve forgotten something, but I can’t figure out what it is.
I know I shouldn’t drink, but I really think I need some sort of nerve-calmer. A beer, maybe.
I ran home on Tuesday, even though I wasn’t sure I should, but I was worried that I had undertrained and that I must be losing fitness. Even though I’ve been able to stop thinking about it for most of the week, I’m still afraid that I haven’t trained enough. I feel like I’ve been boring everybody to tears with my worrying and complaining and nerves.
I just made my playlists, got my clothes together, and made sure my electrical devices are charged or charging.
I still feel like I’ve forgotten something, but I can’t figure out what it is.
I know I shouldn’t drink, but I really think I need some sort of nerve-calmer. A beer, maybe.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
A momentary wallow in marathon negativity
Ten days. TEN days. I might be a little anxious. Maybe. A lot.
Thoughts:
I’m not sure but I may have misjudged how many weeks I had left, and the weekend I took off due to the combination of balloon ride, long bus trip, cupcakes and mucho booze would probably have been the last chance I had to get in another long run before my taper.
Did I do enough long runs? Were my long runs long enough?
42.2 kilometres is ten whole kilometres longer than my longest long run. Ten. Kilometres. An hour or more.
I only ran home tonight, and my knees hurt. My shins hurt. I may be whinging a little.
I have never done this. I don’t know if I CAN do this. Do I even really want to do this?
Of course I want to do this. I have to want to do this. How could I have gotten so far if I didn’t really want it?
Alright. No more negativity. Regardless of whether I’m actually ready for the big day, it’s coming and I will run it. Even if I have to walk to the finish line. Even if I cry like a whiny little girl at the end, which we all know I will do, and for a number of reasons. Because I’m tired, because I’m in pain, because I can’t believe that I’m actually about to finish the race.
April 10. Bring it on.
Thoughts:
I’m not sure but I may have misjudged how many weeks I had left, and the weekend I took off due to the combination of balloon ride, long bus trip, cupcakes and mucho booze would probably have been the last chance I had to get in another long run before my taper.
Did I do enough long runs? Were my long runs long enough?
42.2 kilometres is ten whole kilometres longer than my longest long run. Ten. Kilometres. An hour or more.
I only ran home tonight, and my knees hurt. My shins hurt. I may be whinging a little.
I have never done this. I don’t know if I CAN do this. Do I even really want to do this?
Of course I want to do this. I have to want to do this. How could I have gotten so far if I didn’t really want it?
Alright. No more negativity. Regardless of whether I’m actually ready for the big day, it’s coming and I will run it. Even if I have to walk to the finish line. Even if I cry like a whiny little girl at the end, which we all know I will do, and for a number of reasons. Because I’m tired, because I’m in pain, because I can’t believe that I’m actually about to finish the race.
April 10. Bring it on.
Friday, March 25, 2011
The Return Email
I received the following email today from Fairfax events, about the iPod issue at the marathon.
Hi Anika,
You will not be disqualified for running with an ipod or receive any penalty. We include it as a guideline because the use of ipods can be a safety hazard. Runners listening to loud music tend to be less aware of other runners and race marshals who may be trying to communicate with them.
Good luck with the event.
WIN!
Okay, so I know I’m supposed to be all rational and adult about it and be all:
“I’m glad they’re being rational, and I’ve reconsidered it, and decided I won’t be needing my iPod in the race after all. I wouldn’t want to cause a safety hazard.”
But I won’t say that. I’ll carry on being inconsiderate (at least in a technical sense), and in doing so will remain just as considerate of others as I always have in a race situation.
Hi Anika,
You will not be disqualified for running with an ipod or receive any penalty. We include it as a guideline because the use of ipods can be a safety hazard. Runners listening to loud music tend to be less aware of other runners and race marshals who may be trying to communicate with them.
Good luck with the event.
WIN!
Okay, so I know I’m supposed to be all rational and adult about it and be all:
“I’m glad they’re being rational, and I’ve reconsidered it, and decided I won’t be needing my iPod in the race after all. I wouldn’t want to cause a safety hazard.”
But I won’t say that. I’ll carry on being inconsiderate (at least in a technical sense), and in doing so will remain just as considerate of others as I always have in a race situation.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
The fast run home, and race pack: wtf?
I haven’t been running a lot lately. I feel like I’m making a confession at a Lazy Bitches Anonymous meeting, but I have an excuse, don’t I? I’m tapering. I ran home once last week, and I ran home once this week. No long run, too much on. Last night’s run was fast, though. Really, really fast. I left work late, maybe twenty past five, and I got home early. Five to six, or thereabouts. I know I took a walk break or two during the run so when I was running I must have been running fast.
My race pack for the marathon was here when I got home last night, also. My race number is ’64’, which looks entirely odd on my bib. I’ve never had a race number as low, even in races with two hundred or so participants. There’s these strange hard plastic strips on the back of the bib, and I’m not sure if they have something to do with the timing tag, or what. The runner’s guide doesn’t mention. The runner’s guide does, however, have one of my least favourite sentences written in it, in the ‘Runner’s Etiquette’ section:
Refrain from using iPods or other music devices
Sadface.
I know, I’m a selfish cow. I race with an iPod. There’s a special circle of hell devoted to self-centered freaks just like me. Where we can trip over each other and cut each other off at water stops and ignore the marshals for all eternity.
Look, I’ve already gotten as much criticism of iPods as I can handle from the Coolrunning forum. Because iPods are EVIL. And why can’t you just enjoy the ATMOSPHERE, and make CONVERSATION, and enjoy the SCENERY, and listen to the BIRDS. If you need an iPod, you OBVIOUSLY don’t like running at all. Funnily enough, nobody ever seems to want to make conversation with me in a race, even when I’m not wearing the iPod. I just like music. I like running, but it’s tough. It’s always going to be tough. If the iPod gets me through the toughest spots, then I’m going to keep on using it, even if I get shunned by all the ‘real’ runners.
I wrote an email to Fairfax asking if it’s a ‘ban’ or a ‘guideline’, and whether disqualification will be on the cards if I bring the demonic music machine along. Because if it isn’t? I will bring the iPod. I will listen to it on low low volume (as I always do in races) mostly with one earpiece out (as I always do in races) and if you feel the need to swear, slap, scream at me because you think I’m selfish, then that’s your prerogative.
My race pack for the marathon was here when I got home last night, also. My race number is ’64’, which looks entirely odd on my bib. I’ve never had a race number as low, even in races with two hundred or so participants. There’s these strange hard plastic strips on the back of the bib, and I’m not sure if they have something to do with the timing tag, or what. The runner’s guide doesn’t mention. The runner’s guide does, however, have one of my least favourite sentences written in it, in the ‘Runner’s Etiquette’ section:
Refrain from using iPods or other music devices
Sadface.
I know, I’m a selfish cow. I race with an iPod. There’s a special circle of hell devoted to self-centered freaks just like me. Where we can trip over each other and cut each other off at water stops and ignore the marshals for all eternity.
Look, I’ve already gotten as much criticism of iPods as I can handle from the Coolrunning forum. Because iPods are EVIL. And why can’t you just enjoy the ATMOSPHERE, and make CONVERSATION, and enjoy the SCENERY, and listen to the BIRDS. If you need an iPod, you OBVIOUSLY don’t like running at all. Funnily enough, nobody ever seems to want to make conversation with me in a race, even when I’m not wearing the iPod. I just like music. I like running, but it’s tough. It’s always going to be tough. If the iPod gets me through the toughest spots, then I’m going to keep on using it, even if I get shunned by all the ‘real’ runners.
I wrote an email to Fairfax asking if it’s a ‘ban’ or a ‘guideline’, and whether disqualification will be on the cards if I bring the demonic music machine along. Because if it isn’t? I will bring the iPod. I will listen to it on low low volume (as I always do in races) mostly with one earpiece out (as I always do in races) and if you feel the need to swear, slap, scream at me because you think I’m selfish, then that’s your prerogative.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Alrighty then.
I don’t want to worry unnecessarily about this, but I’ve been getting a warning tenderness in my right leg after running. Here are the two words that fill me with dread:
Shin. Splints.
I don’t think it’s at the point yet to panic, but I’m going to take it easy regardless. Normally I would have run home from work tonight, but after hip hop last night I have a massive bruise on my left knee and I didn’t want to push myself. Right now I’d really like to keep myself uninjured. I’ve started my taper, and the big race is less than a month away. Yay. Exciting.
Shin. Splints.
I don’t think it’s at the point yet to panic, but I’m going to take it easy regardless. Normally I would have run home from work tonight, but after hip hop last night I have a massive bruise on my left knee and I didn’t want to push myself. Right now I’d really like to keep myself uninjured. I’ve started my taper, and the big race is less than a month away. Yay. Exciting.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Malaise
I managed to run 32 km on Saturday, despite my current overwhelming fatigue and growing impatience with long runs. I would love to be energetic and excited about every run, but at the moment it’s simply not happening.
Only three long training runs to go. Maybe one or two of those runs will be 30+ kms, then begins the taper. I’ve been reading blogs and forums, looking up tips and tricks and motivation and reassurances for first time marathoners, and for everything I read that convinces me I’m not ready, there’s something else that fills me with a hopeful (if temporary) confidence. My main worry is that I’m too slow, but even if I am there’s a six and a half hour cutoff.
I bought some gels to try out for fuelling on the weekend, even though my last experiment with gels wasn’t all that successful. Up until now, I’ve brought snacks along for the really long runs, but they’ve been a varied grab bag of stuff, whatever I could grab on the way out the door. Lollies, like those forest berry jelly gummy things with sugar on, also on one memorable occasion a crappy compound chocolate coin (which tasted like the sweetest thing in the world after fifteen or twenty kilometres). Grapes, on my first 30 km run. This last weekend, it was a new low - a little plastic container filled with about a tablespoon and a half of peanut butter. That didn’t really work. So I’ll try gels.
In other news, I ran home really fast tonight. It was awesome, once I got into it. One of those ‘I’m invincible and the world is awesome’ sort of runs. Despite how tired I was before I started running.
Only three long training runs to go. Maybe one or two of those runs will be 30+ kms, then begins the taper. I’ve been reading blogs and forums, looking up tips and tricks and motivation and reassurances for first time marathoners, and for everything I read that convinces me I’m not ready, there’s something else that fills me with a hopeful (if temporary) confidence. My main worry is that I’m too slow, but even if I am there’s a six and a half hour cutoff.
I bought some gels to try out for fuelling on the weekend, even though my last experiment with gels wasn’t all that successful. Up until now, I’ve brought snacks along for the really long runs, but they’ve been a varied grab bag of stuff, whatever I could grab on the way out the door. Lollies, like those forest berry jelly gummy things with sugar on, also on one memorable occasion a crappy compound chocolate coin (which tasted like the sweetest thing in the world after fifteen or twenty kilometres). Grapes, on my first 30 km run. This last weekend, it was a new low - a little plastic container filled with about a tablespoon and a half of peanut butter. That didn’t really work. So I’ll try gels.
In other news, I ran home really fast tonight. It was awesome, once I got into it. One of those ‘I’m invincible and the world is awesome’ sort of runs. Despite how tired I was before I started running.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
The happy dog, and The clicky hip.
I saw a dog this morning, and I swear it was the happiest dog I’ve ever seen. That dog was downright ecstatic. I think it might have been an Irish Wolfhound. But what do I know about dogs, anyway?
---
Some years back, mum liked to buy these awesome Christmas novelty toys at that time of the year, you know, like the angel that you turn on and it plays some naff instrumental Christmas carol on a glowing accordion. Or a reindeer that stands on one leg and vibrates, so when you set it down it has a happy little Christmas seizure, sort of lazily spinning around in a circle. Playing a carol, probably. My favourite was this Santa, all dressed up in his fluffy red suit, who says something - probably on the ho-ho-ho train of thought - and ponderously declares that it’s time to sing a Christmas song. I can’t remember what song it was he was singing, but I’m fairly sure it was ‘Santa Claus is coming to town’. He would accompany his singing with a little hip action, a few booty shakes and the like, punctuating every beat in the song with some hot Santa moves (or at least that seemed to be the manufacturer’s intention). Now, this is a very random anecdote, I know, but it is ever so slightly relevant. You see, our little Santa (who stood at almost a foot tall, to my recollection) had a teeny tiny mechanical fault in the hip mechanism, so whenever he moved his hips, they clicked. They clicked LOUD. At the other side of the house, even if you couldn’t hear the tinny little Christmas carol, you knew the Santa had been turned on simply due to the constant ‘click, click, CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK, pause, click, click, click, pause, click’ and so on, for all eternity.
The relevance is here: After my run this morning, when I was walking the extra two kilometres home, my hip was clicking just like the clicky hipped Santa. On the left hand side. So loud I could hear it over the music.
I think I need to figure out a way to turn out my legs more when I run, because my knees shouldn’t be facing so far inward. My butt hurts like a son of a bitch after today’s run, and even if my hips aren’t clicking any more, I don’t want to do any damage over the next month or so.
So yay me, I ran 30 km this morning. Again. It was harder mentally than it was physically, and I was so relieved when it was over. Three and a half hours is a long, long time to be running.
I’m starting to think maybe I’ll get to 32, do a few training runs at that length, and then try to forge ahead for the 42 from there. Surely you wouldn’t need to run much further than 32 km in training for a marathon?
---
Some years back, mum liked to buy these awesome Christmas novelty toys at that time of the year, you know, like the angel that you turn on and it plays some naff instrumental Christmas carol on a glowing accordion. Or a reindeer that stands on one leg and vibrates, so when you set it down it has a happy little Christmas seizure, sort of lazily spinning around in a circle. Playing a carol, probably. My favourite was this Santa, all dressed up in his fluffy red suit, who says something - probably on the ho-ho-ho train of thought - and ponderously declares that it’s time to sing a Christmas song. I can’t remember what song it was he was singing, but I’m fairly sure it was ‘Santa Claus is coming to town’. He would accompany his singing with a little hip action, a few booty shakes and the like, punctuating every beat in the song with some hot Santa moves (or at least that seemed to be the manufacturer’s intention). Now, this is a very random anecdote, I know, but it is ever so slightly relevant. You see, our little Santa (who stood at almost a foot tall, to my recollection) had a teeny tiny mechanical fault in the hip mechanism, so whenever he moved his hips, they clicked. They clicked LOUD. At the other side of the house, even if you couldn’t hear the tinny little Christmas carol, you knew the Santa had been turned on simply due to the constant ‘click, click, CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK, pause, click, click, click, pause, click’ and so on, for all eternity.
The relevance is here: After my run this morning, when I was walking the extra two kilometres home, my hip was clicking just like the clicky hipped Santa. On the left hand side. So loud I could hear it over the music.
I think I need to figure out a way to turn out my legs more when I run, because my knees shouldn’t be facing so far inward. My butt hurts like a son of a bitch after today’s run, and even if my hips aren’t clicking any more, I don’t want to do any damage over the next month or so.
So yay me, I ran 30 km this morning. Again. It was harder mentally than it was physically, and I was so relieved when it was over. Three and a half hours is a long, long time to be running.
I’m starting to think maybe I’ll get to 32, do a few training runs at that length, and then try to forge ahead for the 42 from there. Surely you wouldn’t need to run much further than 32 km in training for a marathon?
Friday, February 25, 2011
Blog Fail
As usual, it’s the eventful times that I actually forget to write about.
Thursday before last, my training hit a literal speed-bump. I tripped on a protruding chunk of footpath on the way up Dryandra street as I ran home, and fell pretty hard. My ankle got a little twisted, my left knee got really bruised and my right knee got entirely messed up. Now, I’m just waiting for the hole in my leg to heal, but I have gotten back to the running already.
I wasn’t able to do a long run last weekend. No, scratch that. I may have been able, but I wasn’t willing. I took the weekend off.
So, long story short, I haven’t run until Wednesday. I ran home that night, a little slow perhaps, and tonight I did one better. My boss was sponsoring one of the awards for the Camp Quality Verti-cool Challenge, so I decided to represent the branch in the Ultimate Challenge. The standard challenge was to run up Telstra Tower, about four hundred steps, or thereabouts. The ultimate challenge was to run from the base of Black Mountain to the top of the tower. On paper, it doesn’t look too hard. About 2.5k worth of running, plus tower. In reality, it is hard. In reality, it is the sort of thing that makes me question whether I should be dreaming of a marathon at all, if I can’t even cope with a little hill.
So anyways, I’m lacking in verbosity right now. I’m hoping to run 30+ tomorrow morning, so I’d better set my alarm for 4:30 or 5:00 am again.
Thursday before last, my training hit a literal speed-bump. I tripped on a protruding chunk of footpath on the way up Dryandra street as I ran home, and fell pretty hard. My ankle got a little twisted, my left knee got really bruised and my right knee got entirely messed up. Now, I’m just waiting for the hole in my leg to heal, but I have gotten back to the running already.
I wasn’t able to do a long run last weekend. No, scratch that. I may have been able, but I wasn’t willing. I took the weekend off.
So, long story short, I haven’t run until Wednesday. I ran home that night, a little slow perhaps, and tonight I did one better. My boss was sponsoring one of the awards for the Camp Quality Verti-cool Challenge, so I decided to represent the branch in the Ultimate Challenge. The standard challenge was to run up Telstra Tower, about four hundred steps, or thereabouts. The ultimate challenge was to run from the base of Black Mountain to the top of the tower. On paper, it doesn’t look too hard. About 2.5k worth of running, plus tower. In reality, it is hard. In reality, it is the sort of thing that makes me question whether I should be dreaming of a marathon at all, if I can’t even cope with a little hill.
So anyways, I’m lacking in verbosity right now. I’m hoping to run 30+ tomorrow morning, so I’d better set my alarm for 4:30 or 5:00 am again.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Closely followed by the New Shoe Blues
At the not-quite-morning hour of 4:30 this morning, I sat down at the computer and began typing. “This morning,” I started, with some trepidation, “I am going to run 29 kilometres in brand new shoes.”
It wasn’t the impulse of a moment. I had the notion last night, and deep down I knew it wasn’t going to be the best idea. These shoes have only clocked up 6 km, as I couldn’t help but take them for a spin when they arrived on Thursday. My current shoes are Nike Lunarglide+ just like the new ones, but the previous generation, so I can’t go assuming they’re going to behave in the same way. From the short run home, I know the new shoes are quite different. The flywire (I think that’s what it’s called) seems to hold my foot more upright, and the footstrike feels quite different. They’re just as light, and maybe even faster. But for a while, they’re going to hurt.
So, yeah. Stupid me. I ran in the new shoes.
In order to see if I could improve my endurance, I decided to split this morning’s run up into 5km chunks, following each with a one to three minute walking break. I thought I’d maybe lose ten minutes in the long run, but in the end the kilometres I walked during were the same overall speed as the rest of the run. And, I managed 30 kms. So, yay me.
I felt blisters on the backs of my heels at about the 10 km mark, but the discomfort died down. It was still there, and I knew I had stuffed up with the new shoes, but I ran through it. When I took my socks off, I expected the backs of my heels to be red raw. They were red, and they still sting, but there weren’t any blisters. The blisters were further up on my feet. From the tip of my big toe, down to the ball of the foot, on both feet. And the top half of the second toe as well. Biggest blisters I’ve seen in ages. They calmed down during the day, and I was able to walk around, so not too bad.
I guess it wasn’t entirely idiotic to run in the new shoes, but the other day I noticed great cracks in the foam at the back of my old shoes, and I think they’re coming to the end of their usable life fairly soon. I so wanted to run the marathon in my new shoes. I might still, if I can stomach doing the rest of my long runs in them.
It wasn’t the impulse of a moment. I had the notion last night, and deep down I knew it wasn’t going to be the best idea. These shoes have only clocked up 6 km, as I couldn’t help but take them for a spin when they arrived on Thursday. My current shoes are Nike Lunarglide+ just like the new ones, but the previous generation, so I can’t go assuming they’re going to behave in the same way. From the short run home, I know the new shoes are quite different. The flywire (I think that’s what it’s called) seems to hold my foot more upright, and the footstrike feels quite different. They’re just as light, and maybe even faster. But for a while, they’re going to hurt.
So, yeah. Stupid me. I ran in the new shoes.
In order to see if I could improve my endurance, I decided to split this morning’s run up into 5km chunks, following each with a one to three minute walking break. I thought I’d maybe lose ten minutes in the long run, but in the end the kilometres I walked during were the same overall speed as the rest of the run. And, I managed 30 kms. So, yay me.
I felt blisters on the backs of my heels at about the 10 km mark, but the discomfort died down. It was still there, and I knew I had stuffed up with the new shoes, but I ran through it. When I took my socks off, I expected the backs of my heels to be red raw. They were red, and they still sting, but there weren’t any blisters. The blisters were further up on my feet. From the tip of my big toe, down to the ball of the foot, on both feet. And the top half of the second toe as well. Biggest blisters I’ve seen in ages. They calmed down during the day, and I was able to walk around, so not too bad.
I guess it wasn’t entirely idiotic to run in the new shoes, but the other day I noticed great cracks in the foam at the back of my old shoes, and I think they’re coming to the end of their usable life fairly soon. I so wanted to run the marathon in my new shoes. I might still, if I can stomach doing the rest of my long runs in them.
New shoes!
The shoes are Nike Lunarglide+ 2, and are most definitely the prettiest running shoes I’ve ever worn.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Another belated update
I really have to stop putting off posting in this blog. I had a perfect entry all mapped out in my head as soon as I came back from my run yesterday, but I just didn’t do it. I’ve found that my brain short circuits after a long run, and I can’t think, construct a sentence or do anything mentally challenging for the rest of the day. That might be an excuse. I’m not sure.
I was hoping to get to 30km yesterday. I don’t know why I thought I’d be able to do it. Five extra kilometres is a lot, when I couldn’t even summon the energy to walk after 25km just a few weeks ago. I was even more temporally aware than usual. Three hours is a long time, and boredom started to pop up underneath my discomfort as soon as I got into my third lap around the lake. I was hoping to complete a fourth lap, but I hadn’t gotten far past my first water stop (which is only three hundred metres or so into the circuit) before my body decided it had enough, and I was forced to sit down for a minute or two.
Overall, I managed 27 kilometres. Very slow kilometres. When I got home I may have been a little emotional. I was upset that I couldn’t make it to 30km, and all the worrying I’d been doing the night before came back and jumped up and down in front of my face.
I only have seven more long runs before the marathon. I might have time, but I’m not sure. I’ve been trying to plan, and this is the best I managed to come up with:
12/02 - 29km
19/02 - 31km
26/02 - 33km
05/03 - 25km
12/03 - 35km
20/03 - 37km
26/03 - 39km
02/04 - Taper
I might not need to do the 39km run, but I would like to get as close as possible to the 42 before race day. I had to have a smaller week in there, because the constant increases are probably going to be hell.
I’m having two running-related problems at the moment. The first is that I’m running quite slowly at the moment. Incredibly slowly, compared to the past. Some of my kilometres are at an 8:00 minute/km pace, and that’s a bit of a worry. I don’t know if the hot weather is causing my decrease in speed, or just the increase in distance.
The second problem I’m having is nutritional. Yesterday’s run burned about 11,000 kilojoules, and after I add my basal metabolic rate, I would have needed to consume at least 16,000 kilojoules yesterday to keep up with my diet (which expects me to lose half a kilo a week, to make up for the excesses of my holidays). I doubt I ate more than 8000 or 9000 kilojoules yesterday, and I was really trying. I don’t know if this will affect my training in the coming week. I’m hoping it won’t. I weighed myself this morning and I seem to have dropped three kilos this week, which is a bit more than I expected.
Okay. I’m going to stop rambling now.
I was hoping to get to 30km yesterday. I don’t know why I thought I’d be able to do it. Five extra kilometres is a lot, when I couldn’t even summon the energy to walk after 25km just a few weeks ago. I was even more temporally aware than usual. Three hours is a long time, and boredom started to pop up underneath my discomfort as soon as I got into my third lap around the lake. I was hoping to complete a fourth lap, but I hadn’t gotten far past my first water stop (which is only three hundred metres or so into the circuit) before my body decided it had enough, and I was forced to sit down for a minute or two.
Overall, I managed 27 kilometres. Very slow kilometres. When I got home I may have been a little emotional. I was upset that I couldn’t make it to 30km, and all the worrying I’d been doing the night before came back and jumped up and down in front of my face.
I only have seven more long runs before the marathon. I might have time, but I’m not sure. I’ve been trying to plan, and this is the best I managed to come up with:
12/02 - 29km
19/02 - 31km
26/02 - 33km
05/03 - 25km
12/03 - 35km
20/03 - 37km
26/03 - 39km
02/04 - Taper
I might not need to do the 39km run, but I would like to get as close as possible to the 42 before race day. I had to have a smaller week in there, because the constant increases are probably going to be hell.
I’m having two running-related problems at the moment. The first is that I’m running quite slowly at the moment. Incredibly slowly, compared to the past. Some of my kilometres are at an 8:00 minute/km pace, and that’s a bit of a worry. I don’t know if the hot weather is causing my decrease in speed, or just the increase in distance.
The second problem I’m having is nutritional. Yesterday’s run burned about 11,000 kilojoules, and after I add my basal metabolic rate, I would have needed to consume at least 16,000 kilojoules yesterday to keep up with my diet (which expects me to lose half a kilo a week, to make up for the excesses of my holidays). I doubt I ate more than 8000 or 9000 kilojoules yesterday, and I was really trying. I don’t know if this will affect my training in the coming week. I’m hoping it won’t. I weighed myself this morning and I seem to have dropped three kilos this week, which is a bit more than I expected.
Okay. I’m going to stop rambling now.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Ugh
This is my worried face.
: /
I may have been overestimating how much time I have before the marathon. I think I only have eight usable Saturdays before I have to taper off for the race, and my longest run to date is 25 kilometres.
This is when the doubt creeps in.
I don’t know how I’m going to do this. I’m planning a 5am start tomorrow morning, if I can drag myself out of bed.
That’s a big ‘if’.
: /
I may have been overestimating how much time I have before the marathon. I think I only have eight usable Saturdays before I have to taper off for the race, and my longest run to date is 25 kilometres.
This is when the doubt creeps in.
I don’t know how I’m going to do this. I’m planning a 5am start tomorrow morning, if I can drag myself out of bed.
That’s a big ‘if’.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Back to the Grind
Back at work today after a relaxing, if not particularly productive fortnight. I was lazy, gluttonous and socially irresponsible in turns. I ate, drank, and smoked a great deal more than I should have done. Five of the seven days I was in the Gold Coast, I ran on the treadmill for half an hour. I don’t consider that this completely cancels out my wrongdoings, but it helps. I did gain several kilograms during the holiday. Perhaps, this was several less than I would have otherwise gained.
Yesterday I intended to run 30 kilometres just for the hell of it, but turned back when it seemed my knees wouldn’t take any more and the 8:30am heat got too oppressive. The temperature went to 37 yesterday, so it was pretty hot. Oh well. Twenty one is good enough for a weekday. I’ll run home two days, and count this week as a win. Saturday should be cooler, and may be raining in some form or another, so I’ll try to break 30 then.
Ten weeks until the marathon! Excited! Scared!
Yesterday I intended to run 30 kilometres just for the hell of it, but turned back when it seemed my knees wouldn’t take any more and the 8:30am heat got too oppressive. The temperature went to 37 yesterday, so it was pretty hot. Oh well. Twenty one is good enough for a weekday. I’ll run home two days, and count this week as a win. Saturday should be cooler, and may be raining in some form or another, so I’ll try to break 30 then.
Ten weeks until the marathon! Excited! Scared!
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
An Open Letter
Dear Cyclist (not any one cyclist, but an amalgam of almost every cyclist I encounter),
To begin with, I would like to compliment you on your outfit. Not many people have the courage to wear so many colours at once, let alone in such a tight-fitting, body-hugging manner.
But, I digress.
I’m not quite sure what it was you yelled at me as you passed me by on the bike path this morning. You’ll forgive me if I didn’t respond, but as you are probably aware, there were several factors that prevented me hearing what was no doubt an important communication. Firstly, you were cycling past me at speed. Secondly, I was running in the other direction, into the wind. Thirdly, and probably most shamefully, I was also wearing headphones.
Were you saying good morning? Were you telling me to watch the road? If I was going up a hill, chances are that I was looking down at the path rather than straight ahead. It’s a posture issue, and I’m working on it, but you know how it is when you’re in the zone. You may have been telling me to turn my music down, and that would probably have been a fair thing to say. I sometimes lose track of how loud my headphones are. As most of my morning run entertainment tends to consist of the Nerdist podcast (which can contain some coarse language amongst the good clean fun) and SModcast (which can sometimes contain some clean language amongst the profanity) I will admit that I probably shouldn’t be listening at such a volume in a public place. But seriously, I’m not listening to it at full volume on a ghetto blaster at your six-year-old daughter’s birthday party, I’m running around a lake, mostly completely alone apart from the birds and the occasional joker in a clown suit.
In case you weren’t aware, I’m talking about you here.
Let me just tell you one thing: I AM SELFISH. Yes, I have the audacity to wear headphones when I go on a three hour run. I have the attention span of a gnat, and god forbid I should be left alone in my own company for such a period of time without distractions. I’m too selfish to take my headphones off, however I’m not an idiot. If you ding your little bell, I will hear you, and I will shuffle even further over to the left on the path (although I always run as far over on the left as I can in any case, unless my legs have gone all weird or I’m sleep-running and don’t notice where my legs have gone) and then you can cycle past me. I won’t turn my head to see if there’s more than one of you, or to see if you’re pulling one of those ridiculously huge baby sidecar things behind your bike. If you don’t fit on one lane, you should consider whether you really should be on a public bike path to begin with. If you ding your bell at me more than once in the vain hope that I’ll run off the path onto the grass so you and your bff can cycle side by side on your stupid pink racing bikes, you’re going to be disappointed. Do you know why they call it a shared path?
Yeah, I didn’t think so.
I am selfish when I run, because it’s my time. I shouldn’t be bothering you. I’m in my space, and you’re in your space. You may think I’m doing a terrible thing by wearing my headphones and blasting my reggaeton at top volume when I run, but if you’re so careful and safety-concerned and empathic toward all mankind, why do you feel the need to swear at me when you pass me by? Is that even necessary? We’re in close proximity for less than five seconds. Surely I can’t be causing you that much inconvenience if it’s such a short encounter.
I really don’t have any idea what it was you yelled at me, faceless cyclist. It could have been:
“Fuck you.”
“Looking good! Keep going!”
“Anika! Remember me?”
“Keep your eyes on the road.”
“Turn that music down.”
“Good morning.”
Or it could have been a million other things.
But, you know what? I don’t really care all that much what you think, cyclist. Because I ran 21 kilometres this morning. It may not be much, but it’s what I’ve got, and I’m going to be happy for myself, even if you aren’t.
Yours sincerely,
Frankenberger.
To begin with, I would like to compliment you on your outfit. Not many people have the courage to wear so many colours at once, let alone in such a tight-fitting, body-hugging manner.
But, I digress.
I’m not quite sure what it was you yelled at me as you passed me by on the bike path this morning. You’ll forgive me if I didn’t respond, but as you are probably aware, there were several factors that prevented me hearing what was no doubt an important communication. Firstly, you were cycling past me at speed. Secondly, I was running in the other direction, into the wind. Thirdly, and probably most shamefully, I was also wearing headphones.
Were you saying good morning? Were you telling me to watch the road? If I was going up a hill, chances are that I was looking down at the path rather than straight ahead. It’s a posture issue, and I’m working on it, but you know how it is when you’re in the zone. You may have been telling me to turn my music down, and that would probably have been a fair thing to say. I sometimes lose track of how loud my headphones are. As most of my morning run entertainment tends to consist of the Nerdist podcast (which can contain some coarse language amongst the good clean fun) and SModcast (which can sometimes contain some clean language amongst the profanity) I will admit that I probably shouldn’t be listening at such a volume in a public place. But seriously, I’m not listening to it at full volume on a ghetto blaster at your six-year-old daughter’s birthday party, I’m running around a lake, mostly completely alone apart from the birds and the occasional joker in a clown suit.
In case you weren’t aware, I’m talking about you here.
Let me just tell you one thing: I AM SELFISH. Yes, I have the audacity to wear headphones when I go on a three hour run. I have the attention span of a gnat, and god forbid I should be left alone in my own company for such a period of time without distractions. I’m too selfish to take my headphones off, however I’m not an idiot. If you ding your little bell, I will hear you, and I will shuffle even further over to the left on the path (although I always run as far over on the left as I can in any case, unless my legs have gone all weird or I’m sleep-running and don’t notice where my legs have gone) and then you can cycle past me. I won’t turn my head to see if there’s more than one of you, or to see if you’re pulling one of those ridiculously huge baby sidecar things behind your bike. If you don’t fit on one lane, you should consider whether you really should be on a public bike path to begin with. If you ding your bell at me more than once in the vain hope that I’ll run off the path onto the grass so you and your bff can cycle side by side on your stupid pink racing bikes, you’re going to be disappointed. Do you know why they call it a shared path?
Yeah, I didn’t think so.
I am selfish when I run, because it’s my time. I shouldn’t be bothering you. I’m in my space, and you’re in your space. You may think I’m doing a terrible thing by wearing my headphones and blasting my reggaeton at top volume when I run, but if you’re so careful and safety-concerned and empathic toward all mankind, why do you feel the need to swear at me when you pass me by? Is that even necessary? We’re in close proximity for less than five seconds. Surely I can’t be causing you that much inconvenience if it’s such a short encounter.
I really don’t have any idea what it was you yelled at me, faceless cyclist. It could have been:
“Fuck you.”
“Looking good! Keep going!”
“Anika! Remember me?”
“Keep your eyes on the road.”
“Turn that music down.”
“Good morning.”
Or it could have been a million other things.
But, you know what? I don’t really care all that much what you think, cyclist. Because I ran 21 kilometres this morning. It may not be much, but it’s what I’ve got, and I’m going to be happy for myself, even if you aren’t.
Yours sincerely,
Frankenberger.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Holidays. Finally.
I had intended to write up something about my last big run (not this last Saturday but the Saturday before), but I’ve been feeling a bit brain-melty lately and never got my act together. So here it is now. I got up late again. It’s funny how I have started to consider a start later than 6am to be ‘late’, but in the summer heat, it is late. With a long run of three hours, it’s incredibly late by the time I get back. And hot. I decided to do three laps of Lake Ginninderra, and although I was hoping to make 24 km, I managed 25. So I’m a little behind on my marathon training, but not incredibly. The task is still achievable, I hope.
Last Friday I was in Sydney for my Zumba Basics 1 Instructor training with Tanya Beardsley (who is awesome, by the way), and the Zumbathon on Friday night. So all day, from 9am to... Not sure. 10:30? at night, I wasn’t exactly dancing non-stop, but it was a high-energy day. On Saturday morning, I went to a Zumba masterclass. Then I caught the bus home. Everything hurt. Every muscle. I’m feeling a bit better now but I still feel twinges from some of the lesser-used muscles. On the inside of my knees, in my triceps, my shoulders, there’s still tightness. There’s a warning soreness in my shins that tells me I’d better get some more supportive Zumba shoes or face the disappointment of shin splints again. Most of all, my obliques are sore. But I don’t mind about that. I don’t get much in the way of abdominal workouts these days.
I did go for a run this morning. Not a long one, just a slow 13 k. At about 8 or 9 kilometres I started to feel like the light was just a little too bright, and my vision got swimmy. By 10 kilometres, I felt like I was wearing blinkers. I knew I had a migraine coming on, but as I don’t tend to bring painkillers on a run with me, there was not a lot I could do about it. I don’t remember the last time I got a migraine during a run. It had to have been a long time ago.
At this point, I’m planning to do my long run on Wednesday. We’re heading to the Gold Coast on Saturday and we’re not coming back until the following Saturday, so I won’t have a chance to run for a while. This might cause some delays with my marathon training, but I’m not worried, yet.
Last Friday I was in Sydney for my Zumba Basics 1 Instructor training with Tanya Beardsley (who is awesome, by the way), and the Zumbathon on Friday night. So all day, from 9am to... Not sure. 10:30? at night, I wasn’t exactly dancing non-stop, but it was a high-energy day. On Saturday morning, I went to a Zumba masterclass. Then I caught the bus home. Everything hurt. Every muscle. I’m feeling a bit better now but I still feel twinges from some of the lesser-used muscles. On the inside of my knees, in my triceps, my shoulders, there’s still tightness. There’s a warning soreness in my shins that tells me I’d better get some more supportive Zumba shoes or face the disappointment of shin splints again. Most of all, my obliques are sore. But I don’t mind about that. I don’t get much in the way of abdominal workouts these days.
I did go for a run this morning. Not a long one, just a slow 13 k. At about 8 or 9 kilometres I started to feel like the light was just a little too bright, and my vision got swimmy. By 10 kilometres, I felt like I was wearing blinkers. I knew I had a migraine coming on, but as I don’t tend to bring painkillers on a run with me, there was not a lot I could do about it. I don’t remember the last time I got a migraine during a run. It had to have been a long time ago.
At this point, I’m planning to do my long run on Wednesday. We’re heading to the Gold Coast on Saturday and we’re not coming back until the following Saturday, so I won’t have a chance to run for a while. This might cause some delays with my marathon training, but I’m not worried, yet.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Year? New. Happy?
Distance: About 17.5 km
Time: About 2 hours, 11 minutes.
I concocted a hare-brained scheme to run to my mum’s place in Wanniassa this morning. Alas, the universe was conspiring against me.
The intention was to wake up at 6am and get on the road by 6:30. As we only went to bed last night at 1am, being that it was New Year’s Eve and all, and I can’t hear alarms going off with my earplugs in, and Simon slept through the alarm, it was 7am before I got myself out the door. Within half an hour, I realised that I was fighting a losing battle. The temperature was soaring. My legs felt like lead, and my knees weren’t all that happy after I rode my ridiculous little foldable bike home from work yesterday. I decided to be cautious, so I took a gel along to keep me fuelled, and some water, and I took short (and by short, I mean about the length of time you’d take to walk through a drink station in a race) walking breaks every five kilometres.
I wasn’t too sure on the route, but it turned out to be very straightforward and involved hardly any running in the on-road cycle lane. I made it through about twelve or thirteen kilometres before I started getting an odd pain in my back, so I took more frequent breaks. Every kilometre or so, I had to stop and walk for a bit. My pace slackened. I called mum to tell her I would probably be later than expected. Then, at 17 and a half kilometres, I threw in the towel. I managed to run all the way to Woden, but it was 30 degrees out there, and I didn’t really want to damage myself just to say I did it. Mum gave me a lift back to her place, and some breakfast.
Am I disappointed? Maybe, but I know 17k isn’t exactly a short distance. My last long run was on Monday, so I had less than a week to recover. I’ve never been good at running in the heat. I should have started out earlier. Blah, blah, etc.
Now my primary concern is the Marathon in April. I have maybe twelve usable training weeks. Even if I manage somehow to increase my distance by 2k a week, starting with 24k next week, I don’t think I’ll have time. Chances are, I’ll stuff up at least a couple more runs along the way as well. I’ve done some reading on Coolrunning, and it seems you don’t necessarily need to get to 42k in training, but I’m sure I’d feel better if I managed it. Oh well. I guess I’ll just have to see what happens.
Time: About 2 hours, 11 minutes.
I concocted a hare-brained scheme to run to my mum’s place in Wanniassa this morning. Alas, the universe was conspiring against me.
The intention was to wake up at 6am and get on the road by 6:30. As we only went to bed last night at 1am, being that it was New Year’s Eve and all, and I can’t hear alarms going off with my earplugs in, and Simon slept through the alarm, it was 7am before I got myself out the door. Within half an hour, I realised that I was fighting a losing battle. The temperature was soaring. My legs felt like lead, and my knees weren’t all that happy after I rode my ridiculous little foldable bike home from work yesterday. I decided to be cautious, so I took a gel along to keep me fuelled, and some water, and I took short (and by short, I mean about the length of time you’d take to walk through a drink station in a race) walking breaks every five kilometres.
I wasn’t too sure on the route, but it turned out to be very straightforward and involved hardly any running in the on-road cycle lane. I made it through about twelve or thirteen kilometres before I started getting an odd pain in my back, so I took more frequent breaks. Every kilometre or so, I had to stop and walk for a bit. My pace slackened. I called mum to tell her I would probably be later than expected. Then, at 17 and a half kilometres, I threw in the towel. I managed to run all the way to Woden, but it was 30 degrees out there, and I didn’t really want to damage myself just to say I did it. Mum gave me a lift back to her place, and some breakfast.
Am I disappointed? Maybe, but I know 17k isn’t exactly a short distance. My last long run was on Monday, so I had less than a week to recover. I’ve never been good at running in the heat. I should have started out earlier. Blah, blah, etc.
Now my primary concern is the Marathon in April. I have maybe twelve usable training weeks. Even if I manage somehow to increase my distance by 2k a week, starting with 24k next week, I don’t think I’ll have time. Chances are, I’ll stuff up at least a couple more runs along the way as well. I’ve done some reading on Coolrunning, and it seems you don’t necessarily need to get to 42k in training, but I’m sure I’d feel better if I managed it. Oh well. I guess I’ll just have to see what happens.
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