Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Yepper, I started Galloway's Speed Training this week.
It's going to take a looooooong time for me build up to any sort of respectable speed, that much I can tell you for sure! But, I'm nothing if not patient.
I will say, after the first day, muscles ached that don't usually ache after a run day, so it must be engaging parts of me that weren't engaging during my usual 5Ks!
So, yeah: here we go again, with another program! I do well when I have a long-term plan, so I'm looking forward to a productive summer!
Monday, April 01, 2013
1000 MINUTES IN APRIL!!!!!!
LET'S DO THIS THING!!!!!!
Friday, March 08, 2013
This April will mark my first full year of being active on SP -- but before my first year is out, there's something I wanna do, something I've never actually done on Spark:
Earn a "1,000 Monthly Fitness Minutes" medal.
I know, I know, what's the big deal, right? Before I started running, back when I still thought I had to work out 6 days a week to lose weight, I coulda hit 1,000 minutes every dang month! But when I came to SP last year, I was trying out a new philosophy: "eat more, work out less" -- and so for nearly a year, I've been working out a maximum of 3 days a week.
Running 3x/week will do a lot of things: it'll help you lose 60#, it'll shrink your azz and help you drop 2-3 sizes, but let me tell you something it will *not* do -- and that's earn you a 1,000 minutes medal!
250? Yeah, no problem.
500? If my mileage is up, sure.
So, my friends, here's the deal: it's no secret that I've been struggling to get solidly back on track for the last few months with little success, but have no fear: I have decided that ENOUGH is ENOUGH!
Before my first year anniversary next month, and in order to jumpstart my efforts and get back on track, I've decided that this month, I *will* get my 1,000 minutes medal!
(Now, don't get excited -- when March is done, I'm going back to my 3x/week strategy to prevent burn-outage, but for now, peeps, THE CHALLENGE IS ON!)
Monday, February 25, 2013
So, I have this habit, this thing that I do that I would like to stop.
It's like this: I go out for a run, and I'm "enjoying"* it. The first couple laps are always rough, but by Lap 3 I've generally found my groove -- dog's in heaven and all is right with the world, right?
But...then one of two things happen:
Another runner shows up at the track -- and by runner, I mean a fast runner.
(Wait, let me clarify: NOT a 17-year-old high school wunderkind who can and will TRULY smoke my azz in a blur of speed and sound, no -- I admire those kids all to hell, and godspeed to them)!
No, I'm talking about someone in remotely my same age bracket who runs at a "normal" fast-paced (to me) speed -- maybe 10 minutes/mile, maybe a little bit faster. They show up, and of course, proceed to lap me in their adorable little runner's shorts and perky little assets (males and females alike). How do I respond? Either I get stupidly competitive, speed up and run out of gas almost immediately, or I lose my concentration and get embarrassed (like anyone's comparing us in the stands with stopwatches or what-have-you, sheesh S.B.O.!)
So, I'm running, and I hit Lap 7 (1.75 miles into my 3.25 mile run) and start to get tired/bored/cold/hot/thirsty/whatever. Suddenly, I find I'm talking myself out of running the whole 13 Laps. This happens a lot if it's my first day back at the track after extended treadmilling (and yes, this happened to me yesterday)! A voice inside my head tells me it's okay to stop at Lap 10, or 9, or even 8 because, you know, it's been a while since I hit the track and, hey -- at least I got out here and after all, running two miles is pretty good, especially for my first day back, I mean, it wasn't that long ago that I couldn't even run a single lap...blahblahblah...
Either scenario here, the end result is the same: I end up giving in to the seductive little voice in my head that's embarrassed or tired or whatever and do, in fact, STOP RUNNING. Not all the time, for sure. There are many times that I don't give in to it, but I certainly do give in more than I'd like. Sometimes (like yesterday) I give in a lot sooner (went to the track planning on running 11 Laps and walking 2, ended up running only 8 and walking 5). Sometimes the little voice will only end up talking me out of a single lap. Sometimes I tell the voice to eff off and I power my way through.
When I did that 10K, way back when? Total Scenario #1, for sure. I was running shoulder-to-shoulder with thousands of ("real") runners and I lost my nerve. Stopped to walk way early and only ran in short spurts the rest of the race.
Yep, I let the voice get to me.
I'm really tired of this happening, but I don't know how to break this habit. It makes me feel weak, and I don't like disappointing myself.
I KNOW this is all in my head. What I need from you, dear SparkPeeps, is some fodder to fire back at that little voice when it appears, to keep me from giving in as often as I do!
Basically, I need to learn how to become a bully: I need to learn how to bully that seductive "it's okay to stop" voice and put it in it's place.
I'm running a race the first week in April, and it will be my first race back since the disastrous 10K in 2009. I'd really like to go into this run with an actual game plan for how to deal with this bad habit before race day.
So, any thoughts on ways to be a bully?
(Other than, you know, giving that seductive voice a swirlie in the girl's bathroom?)
All suggestions are welcome!
*Running still does suck, though. For about an hour, three times a week!
Friday, February 15, 2013
Buckle up, buttercup, time for some words of truth:
Hard as it is to say, the universe doesn't owe you a damn thing.
If something doesn't go your way, if you get the flu, if you get some bad news, if you get a speeding ticket or if a friend's cancer returns with a vengeance, that doesn't mean that you automatically earn gold stars or get a freaking cookie. There's no ledger in the sky that says if you get a hangnail, you're immediately allowed a better parking space at Target -- it just means that the world is turning and that bad news follows good news follows bad news follows good.
It's a cycle, old as time.
Doesn't mean you're special, sugarpop.
On the bright side, it doesn't mean you're cursed, either.
It just means you're a human being, standing atop a spinning rock, hoping to live another day.
Just like everyone else.
When negative sh#t happens, it doesn't entitle you to ANYTHING -- and yet, that's how you respond, EVERY.SINGLE.TIME, and this time? It's been worse than ever.
In the past, you at least *tried* to feign regret at your utterly predictable "uncontrollable" response to not-so-good happenings (read: slacking, eating thoughtlessly, consuming your feelings).
Except that's a lie, isn't it?
You don't eat your feelings, babe.
You *use* your feelings as an excuse to do whatever the hell you want.
(There, I said it.)
That secret inner smile, when you felt the flu coming on? That was like an elementary school snow day for you, wasn't it? Oh, so sad to be ill, but already gleefully planning how you were going to use it to derail your efforts...
This time was different, though, wasn't it? The food didn't taste as good, did it? The couch-surfing proved less enjoyable, the naughtiness not nearly as delicious.
(And never fear, darling girl, you did not gain a conscience -- but quite by accident, you may just have gained some insight this time...)
Because it's never been about the food, has it?
It's not even about the exercise.
It's really always been about FREEDOM.
Freedom to live without boundaries.
Freedom from the pressures of planning workouts and meals.
Freedom from the grind of 5:30AM alarm clocks and bedtime by 11, no excuses.
Freedom to say yes to a beer with a friend after work without planning for it.
Freedom to be selfishly self-destructive (and oh yeah, you know *exactly* what I'm talking about...)
There's so much freedom in carelessness. You crave it, more than cheeseburgers or PopTarts. More than couch-surfing. More than slash fiction featuring Benedict Cumberbatch, or Brad Pitt's hip bones in "Fight Club". You're so in love with carelessness, you'd have it's babies if you could...
You only have yourself to blame. The craving for carelessness, for freedom, for self-destruction has always been a part of you. It's your culture of choice: old-school punk rock, subversive literature, anti-heroes over heroes -- Alex DeLarge over Mr. Darcy, Lisbeth Salander over Joan of Arc, et al.
But it's a craving that may be keeping you from being the person you want to be.
So, how do you kill it, as it relates to your health efforts here, without changing your whole world view?
Conventional methods won't apply. You can't sneak up to it in the night, can't cut off its oxygen or report it to the authorities -- and locking it away, apparently, only makes it more surly. You hope that exposing it to the light here will kill it, but that might be a little too convenient.
Right now, you think that this realization may have brought you partially back to your senses, and you hope to land firmly on the wagon today (now that the flu symptoms have abated and you plan to return to the track tomorrow) -- but if you're truthful with yourself, you know you're still standing on a ledge, just tempting yourself to leap back into entitled ways of thinking.
But remember, girlie, the fact of the matter is that the world doesn't owe you anything.
Not even the freedom to self-destruct.
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