Today was my longest run since my half-marathon in May.
I’m building back up to where I was, and I can’t lie, it sucks. I want to magically jump ahead to the part where I am running 10-milers again. Impatience is my middle name! (Not really, stalkers.) All I can do is endeavor to not make the same mistakes again. This week, I ran hard when I felt like it, and today I ran easy because it was my longest run. At the end I felt like I could have done more, and that’s the feeling I was aiming for. I haven’t lost all my strength just because I was sick. I can still kick some ass.
If anything, the forced time off helped me think a little about the role running plays in my life. I’m not a jock, I’m a total nerd who also runs half-marathons — and I can be both those things! (I realize how extremely obvious a revelation that is. But I’m still having it, SO…)
Next Saturday is one of my favorite summer-in-New York events, Summer Streets, where a chain of streets from the Upper East Side to the Brooklyn Bridge is closed to traffic (although they let some traffic through last year) and open to pedestrians. Last year I ran to the bridge but fizzled out on it. This year I’m out for blood! and by blood I mean finishing strong on the Brooklyn side. If anyone wants to come out, it’ll be easy pace, unbelievable views. And bagels at Brooklyn Bridge Park, please, thank you.
I treat life like a fast car, lower my speed/ I try and chill, and sell more records than Creed
Even though I didn’t have my Garmin I decided to run outside near my office after work, because I needed to blow off some steam. (We’ll call this “half-naked” because I still had… my iPod on.) On the way out of the building I ran into two of my supervisors, and all I could think to say was, “Don’t worry, I won’t wear these shorts to work ever.” Huh??? Then I died of shame.
Running after dying of shame is not easy, particularly when you’re trying to weave around the crowds. (I exaggerate for Twitter… I got over it.) But there were tons of runners on the West Side Highway, as usual. I did my turnaround on a pier that goes out into the Hudson River, and that was pretty swell.
Came back, about 3.4 miles down, my supervisor is eating a cheeseburger and fries and I should leave before I seagull it out of her hands.
You guys remember Sam Fox, the runner attempting to break the speed record for the Pacific Coast Trail. He’s still a month out from hitting the road, but has already raised an astounding $57,922 for the Michael Jay Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research. If you ask me, that’s an even bigger accomplishment than running the 2,650 miles of the trail.
If you are going to be in NYC over Labor Day weekend, or think you might be, you should sign up for this run/walk.
This is the third year of the Run to Remember and the third year I will participate in it. The finish heads you straight up the west side of Governors Island to face Lower Manhattan and the site of the former World Trade Center, a beautiful and moving view. With this being the 10th anniversary year of the September 11th attacks, the organizers are looking to have every victim represented on a race bib. I picked Andrea Haberman, who I never met but grew up 3 towns away from me and was very active in Girl Scouts growing up (like I was).
As an adopted New Yorker I try to listen to my fellow citizens, who lost family and friends and neighbors and endured the dust and the police and the fear, and let them set the tone for commemoration. It’s only fitting. But this is what I do to remember.
Apart from the obvious significance of the event, it is flat, fast and lovely and you get to go on the island hours before anyone else.
Even though I do most of my running outside now, I still don’t hate the treadmill. It allows for some prime zone-out time where I can focus on my iPod or things I should say to people, or just set aside the day.
When it goes well it’s great stress relief. Only today I thought I had zoned out too far because I was hallucinating that Stevie Nicks was on TV… but it actually was Stevie Nicks. WEIRD! In any case, I ought to hydrate better.
I just did the Jillian Michaels Yoga Meltdown DVD for the first time in… uh… well, let’s just say last time I did it, it was not Bikram-hot outside. I am sore and stiff, but it’s something. As they say on Dailymile, I “zapped the zero.”
Not that my eating this weekend was perfect, but at least once I contemplated buying something delicious and then decided, “Nah, I’m full enough.”
Went to a party yesterday and didn’t untag any of the resulting photos on Facebook. Yeah, I’m squinting and my knees look odd, whatever. It was a really, really fun party.
Cleaned my place and found my new pair of Nike Tempo shorts that I haven’t had a chance to wear yet. My first pair ever!
And finally, the heat: I think it’s everyone’s right to bitch about it because it helps us collectively not kill each other. (David Simon of “The Wire” has a chilling chapter in his book Homicide about how crime rates go up in the summer.) But I have a lot more energy now than I used to, as I noticed when dragging friends + family all over creation. And I appreciate it, even when I wanted to park myself in front of the window A/C unit and never leave. I’m stronger than I thought.
“Two miles later I happily hopped off [the treadmill] and tried to escape, but not before he could inform me that ‘in my country you wouldn’t even be allowed in here and it is unacceptable that I had to wait 20 minutes for you to finish.’ Verbatim. Good thing he didn’t get there two hours earlier, he would have been ellipticalling for quite a while…. So I told him welcome to America and in my country we wear deodorant. And I drug myself outside into the weather I couldn’t be more thankful that I wasn’t running in.”—
Seems that Running Off The Reese’s worked out next to the worst person in the world yesterday. In my opinion the guy got off easy. I’d probably still be in there yelling at him.
Also, I think the longest I’ve ever run a treadmill is 6 miles back when I did all my training on it. Props!
Here I am TOTALLY STILL BREATHING! Look at me! Stupid lungs!
I haven’t been running since Saturday. I’ve definitely thought about it, but that one run freaked me out too much, so I prescribed myself a few more days of rest. I might try a slow recovery jog tomorrow morning, depending on how I feel when I wake up. But I haven’t been doing any kind of strength or yoga, and that’s on me. I could do those things and go at my own pace. I just haven’t been, because I’ve been letting stress about other stuff (work, life goals, Man Trouble) get to me. This week I will be better.
I try to tell myself, there’s still plenty of time for fall race dreams and PR-shattering. As the song goes, this too shall pass.
I skipped my long run today because I’ve been having some back/shoulder pain while breathing, and maybe you can tell me what it is.
It’s a sharp pain under my left shoulder blade that hits at the top of my breathing (breathe in, ZAP!, breathe out). I typically get it right when I wake up, but last night I had it on my run which made me very concerned and I ended up walking the rest of the way home. I tried to stretch it out, to no avail.
I triple-double promise that I will go to a real doctor if it continues, but (a) I was just at the doctor, who didn’t think much of it, and (b) Mucinex (as recommended by the doctor I saw last week) seems to make it better, or at least much less frequent.
Also, it burns me up that I have this stupid wuss problem when people are going out running 100-milers and even 25Ks and 15Ks. I just want to run without worrying!
Also, body, WE TALKED ABOUT THIS. NO MORE MONKEYSHINES OKAY.
My sister (who reads this, so HI!!! START A BLOG) reports that a supermarket near my parents’ house has introduced a potato-chip making machine. You know, in case one of the 85,000 currently available chip flavors out there doesn’t suit you.
Last night I went to the doctor to find out why I’m still coughing and congested despite antibiotics, Gatorade, et cetera. The good news is my lungs are clear (no matter how they feel) and at this stage it’s just a bad cold. The bad news is, there’s not much to be done except get more rest and go back in if it’s not better in 2 weeks.
The other good news is that I am cleared to work out as long as I take it easy. The doctor was definitely surprised to hear that I ran 3 miles on Monday. I don’t know if it was “You are an insane person” surprised or “You are fitter than I expected” surprised, or “Clearly you are not as dead as you say now” surprised.
MEN: It doesn’t matter if you’re referring to your steak, this F word is off limits. Women automatically internalize this word. I call it the boomerang word. No matter where you throw it, it will always comes back to her. Even if you were referring to someone else, your girlfriend / wife will assume you’re thinking the same about her. It’s not worth the fight. Trust me. Eliminate it from your vocabulary. Women and weight. Oil and water. This will never change.
If you would like your partner to lose weight, never say it. The best way to encourage weight loss is to model it. Work on your own body. She will notice. Even if it appears like she doesn’t. She thinks about her weight every single day. She doesn’t need any reminding. Besides, if she does it for you, it will come right back on as fast as it left. Staying healthy is a life style motivated and generated by self. She needs to do it for her. Hopefully, your behavior will inspire her to do so.
Let the activity of working out be something you guys share together. The process of accomplishing goals and feeling better about yourselves will bring closeness to the relationship. A bond is created when people sweat together. And it doesn’t have to be inside a gym. Actually, it would be better if it wasn’t. Run, swim, hike, live. Getting in shape together as a couple. Peanut butter and chocolate.
WOMEN: The locker room has programed us to think words like “fat” and “fatass” are funny. We’ve been pillow fighting with them for so long, we are unaware that they are not pillows to you, but rather bricks. I am not saying this is an excuse to use the word. I am just reminding you that the word carries a different weight with us.
I don’t think this always breaks down along gender lines — I love a good fat book to read, and I will happily call it that — but otherwise this is pretty good.
I’m not sure what you say to someone trapped in a car for hours, in a high stress job, with kids, bills to pay and parents getting old. At the end of the day, that person has used nearly all their strong moral principle in the hope of not reaching for pistol and ball. And salt and sugar is such an apparently inexpensive break from the madness. The challenge, it seems to me, is discovering how to live healthy in a world of cheap beef. It actually makes me wonder if, in other eras, people suffered bad health outcomes as their methods of consumption changed.
I’m almost done with my own voyage and all I can say is that those of you out there who are in the hunt, not to look like Jennifer Aniston or Ryan Gosling, but to see grand-kids, to be able to walk more than ten city blocks, is keep at it. Slow and easy.
I lost, on average, only ten pounds a year—not even a pound a month. Sometimes I barely lost. Sometimes I barely gained. And sometimes—very often—nothing moved. But all the way I told myself, This too shall fall before me.
Ta-Nehisi Coates responds to some sobering news on the obesity crisis. I love this guy.
A welcome alternative to most of the posts I have seen on this news (in general, not on Tumblr), falling along the lines of either “What is wrong with The Fat People?” or gloating because their state is below the national average.
But I think the first real change in women’s body image came when JLo turned it butt-style. That was the first time that having a large-scale situation in the back was part of mainstream American beauty. Girls wanted butts now. Men were free to admit that they had always enjoyed them. And then, what felt like moments later, boom—Beyoncé brought the leg meat. A back porch and thick muscular legs were now widely admired. And from that day forward, women embraced their diversity and realized that all shapes and sizes are beautiful. Ah ha ha. No. I’m totally messing with you. All Beyonce and JLo have done is add to the laundry list of attributes women must have to qualify as beautiful. Now every girl is expected to have:
- Caucasian blue eyes
- full Spanish lips
- a classic button nose
- hairless Asian skin with a California tan
- a Jamaican dance hall ass
- long Swedish legs
- small Japanese feet
- the abs of a lesbian gym owner
- the hips of a nine-year-old boy
- the arms of Michelle Obama
- and doll tits.
The person closest to actually achieving this look is Kim Kardashian, who, as we know, was made by Russian scientists to sabotage our athletes. Everyone else is struggling.
Hey, remember all those times I posted about wearing sunscreen? Maybe I should have listened to my own advice a little more! I was diligent to a fault about my SPF this weekend, until the last day when I got lazy after jumping in the pool, and now I am the proud owner of one very sunburned buttcheek. And JUST one. I have no idea how that happened.
Don’t be an ass like me. Reapply after you get out of the water, for the love of mercy, ow, ow.
Man Brings Daydream to Life, Jumps Into Central Park Reservoir
7/11/11 at 12:45 AM
As some of us have imagined ourselves doing but not actually done, a sweaty, overheated white male in his forties scaled a chain-link fence and dove into the Central Park Reservoir on Sunday. He swam around in it for a few glorious minutes before firefighters booted him from the water, ordering him to grab onto a rope and lassoing him back to the shore. From there, the man was taken to St. Luke’s Hospital, but this seems like a bet that he just won, and that’s what matters. [NYP]
I never knew I had this dream until just now. Surely there is some horrible toxic ooze in there, but it would be worth it.
and I would like to make the following points:
1. Everyone here wears those ridiculous power-balance-ionized bracelets. They even sell them in convenience stores. What, what, what are you doing?
2. I was spotted and heavily questioned earlier today for walking between the church where the ceremony took place and the reception hall (because I didn’t shell out for a rental car). This was a distance of about 2.2 miles on suburban sidewalks. It was about 3 in the afternoon, sunny but not hot, and I had flats on. Yet I’m the crazy one because…
I don’t think it’s too much to ask that subscribers get their magazine issues before seeing them On Newsstands Everywhere. That’s why I subscribe! To be in the cool club! And because you always motivate me so much.
Yet four times in the past six months, I have ended up buying that issue on newsstands and then reporting it missing. This is irritating and a waste of my sweet subscription dollar.
The previous 3 times, I contacted customer service about this, as instructed by your site. They were very nice and offered to extend my subscription (or get a replacement issue) for the trouble. I appreciated that.
But what I really want is to have read my latest Runner’s World before I see it on the rack at Borders because it has been delivered to my mailbox. So I can talk about it with all my (mostly internet) friends!
“I imagine the possibilities of my life spreading out like creamer in my coffee. I pour it in and watch the cream roll in different directions, rippling up on one side of the cup and disappearing down into the dark java on the other. Who knows where I could be? All I know is that I’m glad I ended up where I am.”—Caitlin Boyle, Healthy Tipping Point
I’m not not posting the number because I’m afraid of it, or I want to rationalize it under the Holiday Weekend heading (although it was that, and it was good).
I’m not posting it because I binged last night. Ah, there is always something to work on in this life. Always something.
But today I got up and went running anyway. I ran with my stress and my hurt. I ran because my appetite roaring back is a good thing because it means I am well. I ran because when I get up in the morning I don’t start coughing like I had most mornings in the past two weeks. I ran because did you know I’m on the cusp of 300 miles for the year? Last year it took me till October to get there.
I ran because it’s what I do, and will do while everything else is unsorted.
This morning I ran the hometown 5K that was my first official race 2 years ago. The course is hilly but it gets easier every year, and now that we returning kids are too old to be in the parade it’s nice to open up a new family tradition.
I was having a great morning out on the road; my lungs felt clear and I felt speedy again for the first time since I started getting sick. Unfortunately my dad could not say the same and he was flagging a little after the first mile, so I stuck with him till the finish. He’s a tough guy but he really wants to get faster so I promised to hack him a training schedule before next year’s race.
Special thanks to my brother who UNPROMPTED showed up at the finish line with bottles of ice water. He could have smoked us - the last time he ran it he notched a 24:something in a full Uncle Sam costume - if he wanted to get up for the 8AM race.
I just wrote this whole entry while standing in the cab line at LaGuardia. Almost home. Saw so many fireworks on the flight back.
I’m traveling the next two weekends and I just bought out the local pharmacy in 3-oz bottles of sunscreen. (Well, not quite, but I definitely grabbed the last of more than one brand in travel size.)
If you’re planning to be outside most of the weekend like I am, WEAR SUNSCREEN!!! It’s a pain to put on but you will thank yourself the next day when you aren’t sidelined with a crazy burn (happened to me) and you’ll thank yourself down the road when you’re decreasing your risk of skin cancer.
Bottom line, if you’re not a tanner by nature, embrace the paleness like my pal Amanda Seyfried: