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.

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.

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.

Harvey Wallbanger

Improvements? I’ve got them. Worrying developments? I have them also.

I managed two effortless and maybe even enjoyable runs home last week. It wasn’t too hot. I got through it. I didn’t run Saturday, being Christmas Day. I didn’t run on Sunday, as I was hung over. I did run on Monday, and I ran 22.3 kilometres.

At 16k I felt my left ankle getting a little stiff, and my left knee was niggling a little, but I pushed through to 22.3k, almost all the way home. Almost. Then, something strange happened. My legs stopped responding to my prompting for them to run, run, keep running. This intense pain developed in both thighs. I got severely dizzy. And I stopped. And I sorta had to sit down for a bit. I’m not sure what happened. Did I hit the wall? Maybe. I wouldn’t know. I don’t think I’ve run far enough to hit the wall before. And I ate two of those little Favourites chocolate bars during the run because I was so afraid I would bonk. Maybe I built it up in my head, maybe I just gave up and I’m telling myself I bonked, but maybe I actually did have a little more in the tank.

In any case, Monday morning’s run is both the improvement, and the worrying development. My recovery wasn’t quick or easy, and I still felt a bit of a twinge in my legs this morning. And even though the distance was the longest I’ve ever gone, I’m supposed to run even further on Saturday. Maybe 24, if I can manage it. But can I manage it? I don’t even know anymore. I’m not saying I’m not going to try, because I will. I have to.

On the good news front, the entries opened for the Canberra Marathon in April, and I’ve got my entry. My bib number is A00064, which is by far the smallest race number I’ve ever gotten. Hopefully there are a FEW more people than 64 in the race.

Even though New Year’s Resolutions generally don’t get fulfilled, I still like making them. So I’ll write some tomorrow. They will most likely be running-related. I’ll post them here.

Two steps forward, three steps back

It hasn’t been the best couple of weeks for running.

I’ve managed my usual two runs home this last week, and a weekend long run yesterday, but the week before was a bit of a fail. I went to two Zumba classes, both Tuesday and Wednesday, to make up for a class I missed earlier in the term. I’ve missed a couple of runs home since the start of December, due to injury or conflicting schedules. I damaged my hamstring (only temporarily) due to an enthusiastic but inexpert attempt at a particular Zumba bhangra track. My achilles has been playing up, and when it comes to stretching, I can be a wee bit lazy.

Excuses? Yes. I have a million of them. I just keep on making them, though. And when I actually want to run 20 kilometres or more and find myself feeling under the weather when I’ve barely done 10, it’s frustrating. Last week I did 6 on the Saturday. This week? 14. It’s not bad, but it’s not good.

Lack of motivation? Maybe. The Canberra Marathon Website, which promises the opening of entries in December, taunts me every day. December? This December? As in, right now? I’m starting to doubt that entries will ever open. Maybe there won’t be a marathon in April after all. Why should I bother pushing myself so hard, if there’s not even a marathon to work toward?

I’m hoping I’ll get my spark back soon. Surely I have to? In the meantime, I’ll just keep on plodding away.

Proof of concept win - Distance Fail

Distance: 19.90 km

Time: 2:18:36

So I got up at five thirty this morning. I had an upset stomach and a body that insisted it should still be asleep for at least another couple of hours, but all the same I sunscreened up, geared up, and set off. I didn’t get lost, or not for longer than a minute or two. I just kept going until I found my path again. I was having a great time until I realised that a.) I was remarkably tired, and more so than I should be, and b.) A quick calculation told me that I’d be short of my twenty five kilometre goal by about five kilometres. If I do this run again, I’ll probably take two laps around the lake instead of one, and maybe considering how tired I was, I probably shouldn’t be so eager to push myself up to twenty five kilometres quite yet. If I think I’ll have enough energy left, sure, but running around a lake that’s close enough for a limp home if I should fizzle out is a lot different from running around a lake so distant I’d need to catch a bus if things went wrong.

For now, I’m happy. Very tired. Anything involving standing up, walking or otherwise exerting myself is off the cards, but I’ve got a couch and I’ve got candy and that’s all I need.

Oh, and I almost forgot. I wore the crop top. I ROCKED the crop top. I got a few sideways glances, but nothing malicious. I guess a scantily clad runner laminated in sweat is not that uncommon a sight on the paths around the lake. I saw at least two, but they looked more like ‘real’ runners than I do. Not that my idea of what a real runner looks like is in any way based on fact.

For the curious, here’s a screenshot of my route. Don’t ask me why the time and distance are different from the above result. Whether it’s the calculation from the garmin or from the google-mapped route, I’m not sure.



Now, where did I put that candy?

Training plan - Exploring new boundaries.

Tomorrow morning I’m getting up at 5:30 so I can run 25 kilometres. Whether I achieve it or not is another thing. Also, I’ve decided to change up my route.

I’m going to do the usual, run to the lake, run around the lake, and run home. However, I’m going to run around a different lake. Lake Burley Griffin, as opposed to Lake Gininderra. Lake Gininderra is only about two or three kilometres away, but Lake Burley Griffin is about eight or nine kilometres away. I’m not going to run the whole lake, just the central basin, but all the same I feel like I’m doing something new and exciting rather than dull and boring.

To add to the fun, I’m going to run in a crop top, in public. If you should happen to be up and about at seven or eight in the morning tomorrow and think you might be in the vicinity of Lake Burley Griffin, or any of the intervening areas between Bruce and the City, consider this a warning. AVERT YOUR EYES! The midriff will be on full display, and that is a sight that will need some serious eye-bleach. No, seriously. I’m going to dare to bare, and I’m hoping the confidence will come naturally with the need to keep cool on a long run. I don’t need to be shy. I’ve got curves, but they’re all in the right places (mostly). As long as my SPF 30 holds out, I’m going to rock the skimpy short shorts and the tiny top with pride.

WATCH OUT CANBERRA, HERE I COME.

And she's still got it!

Distance: 21:07 km

Time: 2:24:17

There was actually another half a kilometre in there, but I tried to unlock the bezel on my garmin at one point and accidentally stopped the timer. It was a little while before I noticed.

I’m happy that I managed to run so far, because I haven’t done so in more than a month. I don’t know how long it takes to lose fitness, but as I still had some left in the tank at the end I think I can start pushing it a little further next week. I was worried that I’d have to do 20k runs for another month or two before increasing. Guess I underestimated myself.

I can’t remember the second lap around Lake Gininderra, but it must have been good. Was I asleep? Was I in the zone? I was listening to one of the old Nerdist podcasts. I can’t really remember that either.

Next week, I’ll bring some food along. Or that gel I got at the half marathon this year, the one that’s been sitting in the fridge ever since. I’m sure it’s still edible, in one sense or another.

Peep.

It’s been a terrible week. I’ll update when I have an opportunity to do so.

Quantity, Quality, and Bacon.

If somebody came to me when I was at my largest and definitively said to me that it was impossible to lose weight unless I cut out butter, bacon, cheese, pasta and bread, would I still be overweight?

Probably. Maybe. There is a possibility. If I believed them.

The problem with these sort of restrictive diets, the ones that really cut deep and eliminate every favourite food, is that my brain, at the very least, tries to sabotage me. It tells me I am never, ever ever going to have bacon again, and at the first sign of weakness, that’s where I’d dive. Into a big, crispy pile of delicious salty bacon. Even if I was given a reason why I should be cutting out bacon. Even if bacon was carcinogenic, and I knew it. Studies have shown that nitrosamines, which are found in quantity in preserved meats such as bacon, IS carcinogenic. But does this knowledge stop me, in this hypothetical universe? No. Why? It’s for the same reason that I will rarely pass up a cigarette if one is offered. It’s because I’m stupid. In other words (nicer, less accurate words), I’m only human. My brain wants what my brain wants. Instant gratification.

Okay, so this is the hypothetical situation, but is it really so hypothetical? When I was at my largest, a variety of people told me a variety of things. Cut out carbs, cut out fats, cut out processed foods. Bacon? Are you kidding? Why should you even need to eat bacon? It’s a luxury food, not a dietary requirement. I was told all these things, on a daily basis. But in the end, what worked? I didn’t cut out a single one of these things. Well, except for white bread. But that was by choice. I didn’t adjust the content, just the quantity.

I’ve been reading recently about a researcher who was trying to prove the age-old concept of weight loss as an equation of calories in versus calories out. For a period of ten weeks, he survived on a diet of almost entirely snack food. Snack cakes, corn chips, candy, cookies and the like. CNN calls it “the convenience store diet” or “the twinkie diet” and I picked up various other designations from other news services. One article stated that he had a protein shake every now and then, and a multivitamin tablet. But all the same, he lost weight on a horrible diet due to the simple equation of calories in, calories out. He limited his intake to 1800 calories a day, and despite the actual content of the food he was eating, he lost weight. Nobody would ever recommend living on a diet like this. For a start, if you had to limit yourself to 1800 calories, that’s not a lot of junk food. It is a lot of healthy food, however, and the bottom line is that I prefer eating quality and quantity over a small amount of instant gratification.

But if you can fit it into your daily calories, why not have some bacon? Why not have real butter instead of that horrible fake-tasting margarine? Why do people always turn to these fake junk-food healthy substitutes, but then fail to lose their weekly kilo? It’s because a pita bread with fresh tomato, crumbled feta and roasted vegetables IS something healthy and delicious (if you’re into that sort of thing) but it ISN’T a pizza, and no amount of positive affirmation will make your brain think it is. You could try to stop wanting pizza instead. That’s probably a healthier way to go about things. Or, you could do as I do and treat yourself to a SMALL slice of good quality real pizza on a day when you’ve had an awesome workout. Without eating the whole pizza. The real achievement is to stop when you’re ahead. One slice of pizza won’t kill you, if it’s within your daily intake limit, but four will probably set you back. Good things in moderation. Or in the case of bacon, delicious yet carcinogenic things in moderation.

I believe that people these days are too addicted to blaming everybody else for every problem in their lives. Your diet is one of the things that YOU can control completely. You choose, ultimately, every thing that you put in your mouth. I’m not going to waste my time on tofu and lettuce if I don’t want to, and I’ve lost 20 kilograms without having to waste a second on these things.

I hope this makes sense, but I had to vent a little.