Monthly Archives: September 2009

Weather and Running

Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet. — Roger Miller

cat___wet_close_up

Let me start by saying I don’t think there is such thing as running weather.  For the sake of argument however, I will share my perfect running weather.  If you can find a day that is clear or at least not raining, cool (between 40-55), and not humid, I could call that “running weather”.  It’s also “sleep in weather” but we’ll talk about that later.

I don’t like training in the summer, so it’s a relief that the inner masochist in me decided to start this quest in the fall. I was relieved until I woke up this morning to a day filled with rain.  Running in the rain sucks.

As I burrowed deeper into the bedding I heard this warning: “You’re going to be running in this weather you like it or not.  Winter’s coming, you know.”

WTH? Where did that come from?  Oh, that’s right.  Inner Running Shrew.  Bizzatch.

Reality check – I’m going to be running in “weather”.  Double the pleasure, double the fun. Not.

For short runs I can manage the treadmill, but more than 10 miles? Oh no. That won’t happen. I’d rather /wrist than do 10 miles on a treadmill.  So I guess I’ll have to suck it up and deal with the weather.

Today’s Link

Today’s link is to a Running.com article on stretching.  Some folks debate the necessity for stretching. I have issues with tendinitis so stretching is a must.  Learn to stretch by Hal Higdon.

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Misery loves company but I run alone

Being solitary is being alone well:  being alone luxuriously immersed in doings of your own choice, aware of the fullness of your won presence rather than of the absence of others.  Because solitude is an achievement.

— Alice Koller

Flashback: Morning Rush Hour Coffee Clutch Runners

With children your mornings are no longer scheduled and planned. They are a carny-inspired house of mirrors attraction filled to the rafters with “I forgot”, “I need”, and “Oh shit!”   So like so many other days I was late, only this day I was at risk of missing an early meeting scheduled for me by an E-Suite admin.  And as luck would have it, I was on a life-trajectory that intersected with THEM.

You’ve seen THEM, haven’t you?  The Coffee Clutch Runners?  If you’re not familiar with them, they are 30-to-40 something moms who get together after the kids have gotten on the school bus and their husbands have trudged into the office to run while they gossip.  They are outfitted in the latest running gear in this seasons colors, perfectly coiffed and perfectly made up.  Yes, made up.  Because we know that running in public during daylight hours requires full waterproof coverage.

As I drove through the neighborhood, I kept seeing this flash of neon and paisley through the trees.  When I got a little further down the road I groaned after coming to the aneurysm-inducing realization that there was a Bedazzled Bevy of Boobs stretched 5 wide, running with traffic, dead ahead.  Visions of flying silicone and hair extensions danced in my head.  I had to keep myself entertained with the horrible yet amusing scenes playing out in my mind because they were immovable. They wouldn’t move over. They wouldn’t split up. And they didn’t give a damn that I was late for work. Continue reading

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Keep Your Hands Inside the Ride

Destiny is no matter of chance. It is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved. — William Jennings Bryan

Flashback: The Corral

I remember drowning in a seemingly endless sea of humanity on a slightly chilly April morning.  Some were giddy, chatting as if they had been alone on a deserted island for 25 years, 187 days,6 hours, 3 minutes and 44 seconds.  Others were plugged into their iPods, oblivious to the busy buzzy babblers.

I was wondering if there were taxi stands along the route.

Thursday, September 17, 2009 01:05 AM
Dear Run Geek Run,

Congratulations! You are now registered….

Wait…what? How the hell did that happen?

No matter how much I’d like to say that what you read above was an attempt at humor, I cannot. It was after many hours of prayer (that I’d regain my reason), meditation (an attempt to exorcise my brain of What if?) and tears (because I was convinced I’d lost my one-fingered grip on sanity) that I calmly and methodically clicked the Submit button to register for the next big race.

Submit. How ironic.

It may seem odd to those who don’t know me that I started writing about this yesterday and only a few hours later I was registered for a major race.   It’s not odd.  It’s how I roll.  If I don’t put myself out there, if I don’t hold myself accountable in a very tangible way, I will convince myself that I was “having a moment” and “this too shall pass”.  Even with What if? nagging me I would have found a way to ignore the beastie for at least a while longer.

No such luck, Buttercup.  Suck it up and move along.  There’s nothing to see here but future blisters and the hint of the possibility of shin splints and tendinitis! W00T!

To add to my accountability factor I enlisted the support services of someone whose journey has inspired and awed me.  Known affectionately as the Iron Pol, Tom knows about pain, suffering, failure and success and he knows about the first journey.  Our paths converged again earlier this year after being out of contact for several years.  I am now convinced that this was a sign, a divine intervention, a giant clue-stick to the side of the head.

My last two accountability factor raising actions were to create this blog (so I have somewhere to bitch, piss and moan about how much running sucks) and to put the link into the Twitter stream.  Check, double-check.  My fate is sealed.  I am now fully accountable.

Next stop – engagement.

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This is not my beautiful house!

And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife
And you may ask yourself – well…how did I get here?

“Once in a Lifetime” by David Byrne and Brian Eno
Remain in Light, Talking Heads (1980)

There are more pieces to the puzzle than there is frame to contain

To explain how I got here is a story unto itself — several stories actually, depending on which rather unconventional fragment of my life you wish to uncover.  Since my purpose is to talk about this journey as it happens and as it is influenced by my last trip down this road, I will try to stay at the 25,000 foot level and stay away from buzzing the farmland with minutiae that would clutter things up.

I hate failing.  There I said it.

Before you start posting motivational buzz phrases and fill me with nauseating schmoopiness a la Stuart Smalley, read my lips: Failure sucks.  Not everyone can succeed.  Not everyone meets their goals.  And despite current pop culture psycho-babble, not everyone is a winner.  There ARE losers and there ARE failures.

As a perfectionist I hold myself to impossible standards and expectations.  I’m aware of this and I choose not to alter this way of thinking because it’s how I have survived lots of things, how I have lived my life every step of the way.  I’m too far into this life thing to change that, and honestly, I don’t want to change it.  It is what it is.

So back to the failure thing. Continue reading

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