Thwarted! The bike and the ankle

Friday, May 10, 2013

So...I have injured myself, I need to refrain from a bike ride, and it is supposed to be 80 degrees today. :(

I strained my ankle riding my bike on Monday. 16 miles to work, 16 miles home. Despite the discomfort I felt like a stud anyway because I thought "I have just ridden my bike 32 miles and the only thing sore is my little ol' ankle."

Then like a silly person I went to bootcamp class the next day, and totally wrecked myself. I'm talking "(Bleep) that hurts! What viper did I just get bit by?"

Well, as it turns out, the Achilles tendon is a common place to injure on a bike. Has to do with poor pedaling technique, they say, and I think that applies to me. I have a short bike rack and a long pannier, so I tend to hold my ankle just-so in order to avoid kicking the bag per every rotation.

Also has to do with stiff muscles and improper stretching, they say. Embarrassing but true, that totally applies to me. I go to yoga, but for some reason I start cold, even running, and don't really stretch post-workout unless it's in a class and the instructor says do it.

Here is what Livestrong has to say about it:

www.livestrong.com/article/386207-an
kle-pain-and-cycling/

Oh well. In a way, good for me. I made a promise to myself not to ride today if my ankle still hurt. Even though it is supposed to be a dazzling day. So I got up this morning did my morning things, got dressed in bike gear, and hopped on my bike. I rode one mile, turned around, and changed into office clothes and drove to work.

Lame, lame, lame. But smart, smart, smart.

There will be other hot days.

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Nothing is better than outside

Saturday, May 04, 2013

I won't even question why, but we are in the high 70's this weekend, expected temp of 83 on Monday (hmmm, is that a virus I feel coming on? hate to spread that around the ol' office...). I LOVE heat and sun. I'm eating this week up, and it is so far delicious.

Yesterday was 16 miles to work, 16 miles home. Here is the only scenic bike route picture I took:

It is alongside a slough for the first 7 miles, on a trail along the backside of everything, with nothing to see but pretty and nothing to smell but fresh.

Here is the running trail by my house--I walked past it on the way to the gym this morning, and looking forward to running there tomorrow:

Again, nothing to see but pretty. Nothing to do but go to the end of the trail, de-stress, let all of life's worries drop away at the approximate rate of 11minutes/ mile.

Hope you enjoy your weekend! I'm done at the gym, ate my fabulous banana smoothie (with mint this morning...it's like summer, I tell you!) and I'm off to contemplate how it could possibly be that the sun makes everything feel *this* good.

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Freakin' freakout

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Or so I claim, anyway, but there is always more to the story.

Starting taking some pills, dr. orders. Hormones, actually, and I expect to see these in my future a lot over the coming months.

In a nutshell: Holy feels-different-but-not-even-there-yet.

I have gone over on calories for two consecutive weeks. And in fact, I'm lying; it's been more like three. I know I am gaining weight. I know that I am losing sight. Or, at least, shifting sight. Feeling very much like old me, not determined me. Just feel like the version of me who always wishes but doesn't do.

And there is no "losing this one thing is more important than the other'--it's all a big tumble of junk and stuff. I was a person aspiring to run a faster mile 3 weeks ago. Feeling like weight and numbers were a fun game to play. Feeling (biggest one here) like I HAVE ALREADY WON. I am fit. I am healthy. I have a lower resting heart rate. I am pumped full of oxygen. I win!!

But, that was soooo three weeks ago. Now I am stuffing my face, hiding, feeling pressure, feeling moody and anticipating. Not weighing myself. Working out like a crazy demon but not really feeling it. Not feeling healthy as much as addictive--gimme food, workout, whatever. Just gimmie.

Feeling, really, mostly like walking on eggshells. Scared to stay in this place and scared to move forward because everything feels just a little bit fragile. Scared to think that there is a 'what if' because all positive outcome is manifest of positive thinking, right? So the pressure to stay the course, believe in all this western medicine and feel only fantastic is overwhelming. Glorious (and I don't mean that at all sarcastically) but a big presence nonetheless.

So, I am eating. Eating my ridiculous face off. As emotional response, of course, not because I am really hungry for anything tangible (though, with a lack of what I really crave, chocolate seems to make a pretty passable substitute). What am I hungry for? The future. Crossing the river. To beat the odds. For modern science to pave the way. Think of a metaphor and I will apply it. That is what I want.

For some reason my trainer and I had moved to one night a week the past couple of weeks so that we could meet for an hour. It was supposed to be for one week, but I loved meeting for an hour (ate the pavement, I think they call that kind of workout...) so when I scraped myself up I decided we should always meet for an hour. But alas, I miss the psychological check-ins. Seven days can be a long time. I asked last week to switch back to 2 30-min blocks of time for the reality check. That starts up again this week. Thank goodness. I really appreciate having that anchor.

Then tonight, I had to run. Had to. Can't even face her look at me when she looks at my weekly stats. I owe that woman 3 miles. And, really, I owe me 3 miles, but you know, I do have a trainer because of my lack of accountability. so I actually was kind of more doing it for her...but the point is, I did it. Got my shoes on and got out the front door and ran my regular route. Even though I had just eaten a snack...

What did my husband say just this morning when I complained, complained about my own behavior...he said only "It all begins today"

So. That was a fair statement. A mighty fair statement.
It all begins today.

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Yoga understands me

Tuesday, April 09, 2013

Do any of you remember the following Chanel commercial from the late 70s?

www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVwvmozG6-A

I used to run to watch it when I'd hear the music start up, from any part of the house. I absolutely loved it. The mood of it had something ethereal that I craved, and I don't know what that was. All I know is that I wanted "it", that mysterious stirring that got evoked, despite the fact that:
1) the commercial did not make sense, and
2) the marketing was truly lost on me.

Anyway, fast forward ~ three decades, and here I am. Still seeking the ethereal feeling. The sense of mysterious something.

I write this blog to try and describe the wormholes in my brain that are the pathways to my definitions of good feeling; the one moment of infinite absolute-ness, and how one hour of yoga produces one fleeting moment of perfection.

Like last night. A perfect yoga session. Poses that are a place of rest and meditation, not a physical struggle. A moment of the infinite and absolute. I was able, last night, to clear my mind and dedicate. And I love that so dearly. For one small kernel of time, I was large small nameless faceless seamless perfect complete.

That sentiment that I've been chasing my entire life.

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Clean and Jerk

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

So, I'm moving into the wide world of new routine with my trainer, and last time we met we worked with heavier weights than normal.

HOLY COW. It was a ton of fun, and I am very proud to say that I finished all my reps even though the first lift of the first rep was right around the time that I started 'counting'--I know I am ready to finish an exercise when the first thing I do is ask her how many I have to do. To get mentally prepared, I suppose.

Anyway, the one that she did that I have been most proud of (for not being in pain for, these past couple days after lifting) was the clean-and-jerk method, with increasing, decreased sets. Where we started with an empty bar, and I lifted 15 times. Then added 10 pounds, lifted 12, 10 more pounds, lifted 8. By then could no longer lift a single thing, so on we went to some kind of horrible squats.

Anyway, I feel invincible. Today should be my sore day, and I am not. I can tell that I *used* my arms, for sure, but there is no exhaust. Hurray!

And tonight...bootcamp. I'll need those arms.

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