Have you ever felt like various parts of your body are at war with each other when you exercise? That was not the case this morning; they were in cahoots. It was a big dance party in my torso at 6 am.
It started well—the heart began with a nice baseline (thump-thud, thump-thud, thump-thud), and then the lungs chimed in (nts nts nts nts). The feet tapped out a snappy little melody.
But all too soon, this party took a turn for the douche. The stomach, drunk on peanut butter, started grumbling and stumbling about, like a dj who thinks his slurred shouting into the mic can improve a set. The side was in deep potassium withdrawal (just out of rehab), and it broke out the dreaded club siren, building to a deafening pitch. And just when you thought that was as bad as it gets, the ovaries blared the dreaded air horn.
Please just settle down and let me run, everyone—there's a new dj in town tomorrow morning.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
Noise Complaint
Today I had to do my first pre-work run in a long time. I have a schedule for my training, and while I'm going to run at night whenever I can, if I have evening plans then it's gotta be a 6:30 wake up. Or a painful, drawn out 6:52, in the case of this morning. As I hauled/peeled/forced/yanked/winced (choose your own awful verb!) my way out of my warm, fluffy duvet, I looked outside at the rain with my squinty eyes—a definite treadmill day.
A moment's pause to thank my dad for not forcing me to give that treadmill back, even though he has now moved into a house that obviously has the space for it. Also to my roommates, for letting me keep it behind the couch in the living room (an interior decorator's dream), despite the fact that we don't have a lot of space for it. And a special nod to my iPhone case, for bravely protecting my phone against the brutal face of the subway floor while i just dropped it mid-paragraph. I digress.
I got on the treadmill. For the first lap or two I wasn't even fully conscious that I was running. Once I woke up a little, I realized I was trying to run kind of quietly (which you definitively cannot do on a treadmill, I know this). I didn't want to wake the downstairs neighbour. Then, my mind flashed back to two nights ago; our new basement neighbour's Incredible Howling Beagle (an interesting superhero name, no?) left alone at 12:30, baying as though the world would soon end. But end it did not. IHB was still howling continuously at 1:30 am. And 2:30. And 3:30. And shoot me.
Banging out my run through the ceiling suddenly didn't seem so bad. And by the time the song from 28 Weeks Later came up on my playlist, I was flying. The song is called In The House In An Instant, by the way: the best building crescendo song of all time. It is not for use outside at night, however, because if you have seen the movie, you'll become convinced that you're running for your life from the 'infected'.
Twenty minutes later I had a text message from downstairs, asking what that loud banging was, and wasn't it "a little early for that." A little early indeed, neighbour. Ah, poetic retribution.
A moment's pause to thank my dad for not forcing me to give that treadmill back, even though he has now moved into a house that obviously has the space for it. Also to my roommates, for letting me keep it behind the couch in the living room (an interior decorator's dream), despite the fact that we don't have a lot of space for it. And a special nod to my iPhone case, for bravely protecting my phone against the brutal face of the subway floor while i just dropped it mid-paragraph. I digress.
I got on the treadmill. For the first lap or two I wasn't even fully conscious that I was running. Once I woke up a little, I realized I was trying to run kind of quietly (which you definitively cannot do on a treadmill, I know this). I didn't want to wake the downstairs neighbour. Then, my mind flashed back to two nights ago; our new basement neighbour's Incredible Howling Beagle (an interesting superhero name, no?) left alone at 12:30, baying as though the world would soon end. But end it did not. IHB was still howling continuously at 1:30 am. And 2:30. And 3:30. And shoot me.
Banging out my run through the ceiling suddenly didn't seem so bad. And by the time the song from 28 Weeks Later came up on my playlist, I was flying. The song is called In The House In An Instant, by the way: the best building crescendo song of all time. It is not for use outside at night, however, because if you have seen the movie, you'll become convinced that you're running for your life from the 'infected'.
Twenty minutes later I had a text message from downstairs, asking what that loud banging was, and wasn't it "a little early for that." A little early indeed, neighbour. Ah, poetic retribution.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
The Lone Wolf
My roommate once told me (in a complimentary fashion, I hope), that I am a "lone wolf". She has a point—I'm not exactly a prolific joiner. I love my close friends, but I'm not much for networking, and I have also been informed that my Neutral Bitch Face (NBF - a condition in which one's natural, neutral expression looks unwelcoming and superior, despite their feelings to the contrary) is detrimental to my first impressions.
Sometimes, however, when I know it would be good for me, I force myself into joiner-ish situations. Herein lies the reason for this blog's creation; I have signed myself up for the Nike Women's Half Marathon in San Francisco, with a fundraising group called Team In Training. I did this for a lot of reasons.
One: I would like to run the New York City Marathon. I don't know when, I don't quite know how, but I would like to do it before I die. And I think this is another step in that direction.
Two: I needed a 'thing'. I've been feeling pretty stagnant lately, and I needed something that I was working on, a goal to move towards. Blame my father, he had me writing a list of about 20 goals/resolutions down every New Year's Eve when I was a kid - and I loved it.
Three; helping others. My goal is to raise $3,500 for Leukemia and Lymphoma research before the half marathon. This seems somewhat crazy at the moment, but I'm told that other participants achieve that and more every season, so I'm going to do my best to live up to my promise. (If you want to help out, go here.)
Four: the travel. I have always wanted to go to San Francisco, and I'll be the first to admit to my travel addiction; I never say no to another trip.
Now to return to my lone wolf-ness - yesterday morning I got up at 6:30 (what have I done?) to go for our first group training run, up at Yonge and Eg. I bravely passed by the intoxicating scent of Cinnabon (how does anyone who uses that station face it on a daily basis?), I wore my special team t-shirt, I even clapped and quietly "woohoo-ed" (I am so not a woo girl...) when we were supposed to be team spirity. But then one of our coaches announced his no headphones policy. I had a minor panic attack. What do you mean no headphones?? No music? No motivational Dragonette lighting a fire in my new shoes? But why?
The reasons were not ones of training, but of socializing. To meet new people and talk while we ran. I am only mildly ashamed to say that this filled me with an irrational anger. Why would I want to do that? How can you breathe properly while you're talking?
As much as I am a lone wolf, I am also generally a rule follower. So I did it. I crammed my iPod (I'm so sorry, little Pheidippides) into the tiny back pocket of my stretchy pants, and proceeded to run the longest and least fun 5K of my life. I did run alongside some new people, though I can't say I did much talking.
One of the trainers promised me afterward that training with other people would inevitably speed up my race time. I'm not exactly convinced yet, but I'll keep you posted as I test out the pack life.
Sometimes, however, when I know it would be good for me, I force myself into joiner-ish situations. Herein lies the reason for this blog's creation; I have signed myself up for the Nike Women's Half Marathon in San Francisco, with a fundraising group called Team In Training. I did this for a lot of reasons.
One: I would like to run the New York City Marathon. I don't know when, I don't quite know how, but I would like to do it before I die. And I think this is another step in that direction.
Two: I needed a 'thing'. I've been feeling pretty stagnant lately, and I needed something that I was working on, a goal to move towards. Blame my father, he had me writing a list of about 20 goals/resolutions down every New Year's Eve when I was a kid - and I loved it.
Three; helping others. My goal is to raise $3,500 for Leukemia and Lymphoma research before the half marathon. This seems somewhat crazy at the moment, but I'm told that other participants achieve that and more every season, so I'm going to do my best to live up to my promise. (If you want to help out, go here.)
Four: the travel. I have always wanted to go to San Francisco, and I'll be the first to admit to my travel addiction; I never say no to another trip.
Now to return to my lone wolf-ness - yesterday morning I got up at 6:30 (what have I done?) to go for our first group training run, up at Yonge and Eg. I bravely passed by the intoxicating scent of Cinnabon (how does anyone who uses that station face it on a daily basis?), I wore my special team t-shirt, I even clapped and quietly "woohoo-ed" (I am so not a woo girl...) when we were supposed to be team spirity. But then one of our coaches announced his no headphones policy. I had a minor panic attack. What do you mean no headphones?? No music? No motivational Dragonette lighting a fire in my new shoes? But why?
The reasons were not ones of training, but of socializing. To meet new people and talk while we ran. I am only mildly ashamed to say that this filled me with an irrational anger. Why would I want to do that? How can you breathe properly while you're talking?
As much as I am a lone wolf, I am also generally a rule follower. So I did it. I crammed my iPod (I'm so sorry, little Pheidippides) into the tiny back pocket of my stretchy pants, and proceeded to run the longest and least fun 5K of my life. I did run alongside some new people, though I can't say I did much talking.
One of the trainers promised me afterward that training with other people would inevitably speed up my race time. I'm not exactly convinced yet, but I'll keep you posted as I test out the pack life.
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