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.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
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
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