Archive | July, 2011

Dear PMS, Shuffle is for iPods, Not Emotions.

31 Jul

Day 70:

Scheduled: 4 mile open

Actual: 4.01 miles, 37m:26s, average 9:21/mile.  NEW PR! WHAT’S UP!! BOOOOOOOYAAAAHHH!!

Dubstep: Makes me run fast

Allergic reactions to bugspray: 1

Cramps: Annoying, but not debilitating

Ovaries: Sulking

Knees: Congratulating themselves

Emotions run through today: 139

Shooting stars: 2

Heat lightning: Plentiful, but very far away

Optimism: Bolstered

Oh, yes. It’s that most magical of times when it feels like a coked out gnome is running around maniacally swinging a machete inside my body and a yoyo has nothing on my range of emotions in a given 15 second span. Add to this one of the worst afternoons at the barn I’ve had in a long time, and I VERY nearly didn’t go out on this run at all.

It was HOT this afternoon. Specs-wise it wasn’t as bad as Thursday, but man it felt 10 times worse. I couldn’t breathe, my body was shutting down. Add to this that the stalls were a HOT DAMN MESS that took me absolutely forever to clean and it was not lookin’ pretty. To give you an idea, it usually takes me about 45 minutes to an hour-ish to clean the 3 stalls depending on how dirty they are. It took me close to 3 hours. I had to dig out 3 inches deep of sand in the entirety of each stall, lime the shit out of it, let it dry and rake it smooth. Normal day is 3-4 wheelbarrow loads for the whole job, most of it hay. Today it was 4 PER STALL, all wet sand. I had to take 2 breaks to sit down and have a drink. My hands are blistered to shit right now from the pitchfork. While mucking, the bugs started coming out and having a feast on my skin, so I went and sprayed down with the Cutter spray Sandy keeps in the barn. About 10 minutes later, everywhere my skin had spray on it felt like it was ON FIRE. It was turning red and burning like the sun. UH OH. Not good. Had to ditch my spray soaked shirt, hose myself down and then wash it all off in the sink in the house and bum a new shirt. UGH. In my current state that almost left me in tears. However, I actually rode after that and Sandy had me do stirrupless. My legs and abs were begging for mercy.

Do you see now why I almost skipped this run?! I seriously thought about whether I really had to do it for a solid 10 minutes, waffled, sulked, psyched myself up, and decided that since I missed Monday’s run from my back being tweaked, I did indeed have to run at least a little. I convinced myself even if I walked pretty much the whole damn thing, it was worth it to go out and do it. So I did.

I put on some dubstep since I needed SOMETHING to keep me moving tonight. Started out at a decent pace. There was a good breeze. Cool. This feels not bad….actually this feels pretty good! Color me shocked and amazed!! I just kept flying along at what felt like should be way too fast a pace to maintain and actually got faster every mile. I kept expecting the cramps to double me over and make me walk/limp home or my knees to give out after the long run effort, but apparently if you put some good dubstep in my ears, I will run pretty damn fast without walk breaks. My legs felt good, the wind kept blowing in my face no matter which way I was running, and the bass was filling my ears. I was rockin’ it. I even saw not one but 2 shooting stars while I was running since I look up at the sky when it’s clear out. GOOD OMENS, I NEEDS DEM!!

Got to the end, hit the stop and started laughing because I beat my fastest 4 mile time by a solid minute without even trying. Go figure. I’m not gonna claim to be fast, by any means, but it is nice to have a good run and see some improvement after the totally soul crushing, body smashing experience that last long run was.

I’m gonna stop writing now before my mood turns and I start crying for no damn reason. Got my back brace to try out on my lift tomorrow. Looking forward to it, actually.


5 Stages of Long Run Acceptance

29 Jul

Day 68:

Scheduled: 8 mile long run

Actual: 8.01 miles, 1h:23m:52s. Average: 10:28/mile

Route: New and Pre-mapped

Pleas for Peptalks: Shameless and numerous

Peptalks received: 0

Calorie intake: Insufficient

Secret Weapons: Ineffective

Shirt: Literally wrung out on the side of the road

Body: Broken

Running buddy: Left behind at mile 3.6

Screenshot from earlier. Outlook is not good.

Today all day long there were heat advisory warnings telling everyone in the area to limit their outdoor exposure and use caution. Let me tell you, that made me super excited to run outside tonight. Knowing this would be the case and that I would be covering enough distance to actually go somewhere, I decided to map out a route of a big loop so that once I got to the far end, there was nothing for it but to run back home. I’m pretty sure I would have given up around mile 6 if I hadn’t done it this way. I barely managed to drag myself the half mile back home after finishing. One of Glenn’s old highschool friends was in the area and asked if I wanted a running buddy, so he joined me at the beginning. He’s more of a fast 5k sort of runner though, and I lost him after mile 3. At 3.6 he yelled up to me he was heading back to the house. So onward I go alone.

I was all prepared for the heat. I froze a gatorade when I got home from work so that I would have something cold to ice myself with in the first half of the run and some electrolytes and calories for the second half. I also put some ice in a bandana and tied that around my neck to keep the heat at bay. They worked great…for my warm-up walk. By the time I hit 1 mile, my gatorade was not frozen at all any more and most of the ice on my neck was gone. By 2 miles the gatorade was warm and I just had a wet rag around my neck. Awesome.

There are stages of emotions and mental states that shift with the effort during a long run. It’s a lot like the Kubler-Ross model of grief. On difficult and painful long runs that last forever more than an hour with no music or distractions, there is plenty of time for me to work through all the stages of running denial and acceptance while I slog.

It's gonna be great!

At the beginning of the run I am in complete and total denial about how hard it will be and how painful the forthcoming slogging is. I completely minimize how hard previous runs were and I’m still psyching myself up for the miles ahead. I am telling myself that the tightness in my legs will loosen, that the tiredness I feel at the starting line will dissipate when the blood starts flowing and I will find the energy. I tell myself it’s not that far and that I can do this no problem and that the heat isn’t that bad. I set outrageous time goals and tell myself it should be no problem to hit them.

By miles 3-4, I am into stage 2, Anger. I am pissed at my Garmin for telling me I’m not running as fast as I feel like I am. I am upset about how much I am sweating already and how much of it is running in my eyes. I am furious with Florida for making the humidity so high and subjecting me to this misery. I am fuming at myself for signing up for a race that required me to train in the heat of summer. I am affronted by these inconsiderate assholes who park their trucks across the sidewalk for no reason and block my way. I am annoyed by my pepper spray that is difficult to hold in sweaty hands. I get irrationally irritated with how long traffic lights and crosswalks take to change and let me cross. I am incensed that the gatorade I drank is giving me a stomach ache rather than helping. I am bitter about how difficult running feels despite all the effort and training I have put in. I boil, curse and grumble as I continue slogging. I pity anyone that would try to abduct me while I’m in this phase of my run. It would not end will for them.

Once the energy for anger has been beaten out of me, I move into the Bargaining stage. Self starts telling me that if I can just make it a little further, then tomorrow I will get sushi for lunch. If I can only just make it to like…5 miles, then I can have a walk break. If I can just make it to at least 6 miles, I can stop and head home if I’m really not feeling up to it. Well, I ran a little extra on Tuesday, so maybe I could subtract that quarter mile today and it will even out? I just have to slog through at least like 7 miles…then I can call Glenn to get me. I ran the first mile at a pretty good pace, so if I just walk a little the time should average out and I can pick up the pace again in the next mile.

When I reach the Self-bargained goal-posts, I realize that I am too stubborn to stop running and I fall into the Depression stage. This is where I look at my time and calculate just how woefully behind my goal time I am and how much further behind I’m falling with every passing second because I can’t find the energy for a push since my legs feel like lead. I feel like I’m never going to get faster and running is never going to be easy for me. It’s almost always a struggle. I’m just not good at it and why did I ever think this race was a good goal to make? I’ve only done HALF the distance I have to cover in the race and I want to die on the side of the road. I’m struggling and wheezing, my skin is on fire, it’s too damn hot and I’m never going to finish this stupid race, anyway. This is where a lot of pitiful groaning happens and my feet start to drag. There are very probably walk breaks in this stage.

Depending on the length of the run, when I finally stumble into the last 1-2 miles, I hit the Acceptance stage. This is where I realize that I have, after all, run this far, and I have to get home one way or another, so I might as well run it. The quicker I just knuckle down and grind through it, the quicker it will be done. I’m not giving up on the race this time and I’m going to finish this run even if it hurts. I refuse to walk any more until robot lady tells me I’m done, so I just force my legs and lungs to accept their fate, shut off my brain and try to stumble-cry through the finish.

As I was struggling along through those last couple miles tonight, I had a memory flash of when I was in junior high trying to get the presidential fitness award. The only thing that stood between it and 12yr old me was running 1 mile in 10:00 or less. It seemed like it was so far and so impossibly hard for my slightly asthmatic non-athletic self. My dad took me out to the school track on the weekend and ran with me to help me try to get to that time. I remember my lungs and legs burning, wanting to quit and him saying something like “You have to push at least a little bit past what’s comfortable, or you’ll never get better”. My dad has never been an athletic guy, but for whatever reason that stuck with me. I left comfortable about 4 miles back with that running buddy, but still, it kept me slogging along to the finish, so, thanks for that, Dad.

By the time I finished all 8 miles, my right quad had locked and I actually contemplated calling Glenn for a pick up instead of walking home, but then I thought he wouldn’t want me sitting in his car completely soaked in sweat totally forgetting he’d probably bring mine. Sad, yes.

My optimism about this race is all false. I’m seriously doubting whether I can finish. I know we have 9 weeks left, but these long runs are kicking my ass so hard, I’m just not sure how I’m going to make it. Even if I do, I’ll have to rent a wheelchair to go to the food and wine festival afterwards and probably fall asleep holding a beer like a total lameass non-athlete.  I desperately need to spend some quality time with the foam roller and my bed now.

Onward. I guess.

Want a Spotter, Not a Stalker

24 Jul

Day 64:

Scheduled: Lift, Phase 1, Workout B

Actual: Lift, phase 1, workout B…almost

Bosu ball pikes: 3

Pushups: 14, 19, 14, 14, 19

Spotters: 0

Creepers: 2

Back muscles pulled: 1…or all of them. I don’t know.

Lifting belt: Ordered from Amazon

So, today was a normal lift day. I went in, tried a few wobble-pikes first thing before I got tired and managed 3, then finished out a couple sets of normal ones. I then went and started my regular lift workout. I’ll say it. I hate deadlifts. This is not what tweaked my back, but I hate them. They’re awkward, it’s hard to grip the bar solid, and I ALWAYS manage to scrape up my shins and bump my kneecaps with the bar. I have a bruised right knee and 2 red shins right now. I mean, I know my back is the weakest part of my body and I definitely feel the difference strengthening it is making. I appreciate what they do and I also know these things are a standby workout in pretty much any program for a reason, but man. I kind of wish there was a better way to do it.

Definitely not a good hurt

But no, deadlifts were not my downfall today. It was the shoulder presses. My legs and back were tired from all the previous working out they’d had. I picked up the 25lb dumbbells and proceeded to do my sets. They were hard, but I was making it. On the last set, I was struggling. When shoulder presses get hard, I have a tendency to arch my back a little. I know this is bad and I should get the abs in gear and all that, but it’s a bad habit. This means my back is doing some weird things and the weights I’m trying to push up over my head start falling back behind my head. This is where it’s helpful to have a spotter that can keep your arms straight and weights off of your head. I managed to twist slightly while flail-pushing the weight up and “TWANG!” there went the muscle. There was cursing and I dropped a weight. Not on my foot, but it was dropped.

I have iced it, heated it and stretched it. It hurts, but I think I managed to avoid anything too bad. Definitely no riding today, though. Hoping I can still make my run tomorrow. I may have to switch the easy run and the tempo run, but if I stay off it today and keep the heating pad on it, I think it’ll be OK.

This brings me to my call for help. Anyone in the Brevard area want to be my lifting buddy twice a week? I’ll consider switching gyms if necessary. I’m getting to the point where I’m lifting enough I should really have a spotter and somehow asking the creepers at the gym that randomly compliment me on my squat form is less appealing than hurting myself. Gonna order a back brace belt and some lifting gloves since the couple times I’ve used those they did help, but I don’t want to have to back off on lifting just because there’s nobody to go with me and spot.

At the moment, I’m gonna go make some sweet potato burritos (TRY THEM FR RLZ. Just use black beans instead of kidney and don’t add the water), medicate and put a pillow under my back for the remainder of the evening.

Hard to believe we’re already in week 10 of training. Halfway there and it feels like the real work is just starting. It’s about to start getting interesting.

Got the Need for Speed

24 Jul

Day 63 (Yesterday):

Scheduled: Sprint intervals 1/2, 9x

Actual: Sprint intervals; 1 min 6:00-6:18 per mile pace/2 min recovery 9:15-10:00 per mile pace. 9 repeats

Music: System of A Down, Prodigy, Junkie XL

Sweat factor: I may as well have jumped in a pool

Sinuses: Drained like a faucet turned on

Asian lady next to me: Giving me weird looks

On TV: Gene Simmons Family Jewels

It hurts so good.

So after being reminded that I am still pretty woefully slow as a runner by meeting a friend’s runner friend who routinely runs conversational 7:00 miles and finishes halfs in sub 1:45:00 times, I decided I was gonna step up my game, put the pedal down and really see just how fast I could go in these sets. No wimping out and slowing down mid set, no walking, no breaks, nada. Just speed.

Last time I ran at 9mph (6:40) in the sprint portion and made it all right, so I decided I would try 10mph and keep the recovery at my pace for the last 5 miler I did, which was around 6.5 mph (around (9:15-9:30). I did 2 sets of swiss-ball pikes to warm up. OK. Little tangent here. You know that photo I posted of the girl doing pikes with her hands on a bosu ball rather than the floor? Well, since I’m able to do 2-3 sets of pikes relatively comfortably now and am doing a pushup in between each pike (that’s right. BAMF), I figured I would try to do at least a few this way and see what the next level felt like. I struggle to understand how these are even the same exercise. These are not a fucking joke. I could barely do 1. I could barely get into starting position. There is NOTHING solid to brace on. Your hands are wobbling, your feet are rolling, and it’s all you can do to not bust your ass on the gym floor just staying stationary, let alone in motion. I can do about 2.5 very shaky and questionable pikes this way before sliding off the side into a noodle pile. Holy cheezits, these are HARD. But now it is a mission. I will do them until I can do full sets this way. And then my abs will eat children for breakfast because they will be so mean. End tangent.

I will admit that yesterday I put off this gym trip and interval set as long as humanly possible. I delayed, then I got dressed for the gym and stood in the living room drinking vitamin water (intended for the gym) and watching The Guild that Glenn had put on. I finally got my ass to the gym and on the treadmill and set it for 36 minutes. This would give me 3 mins to walk, 3 mins to warm up jog, 9 repeats and 3 mins for a cooldown walk at the end. Perfect.

During the warmup jog, Self was already starting the doubtful smack talk. “are you SURE you want to run as fast as you planned? I mean you’re pretty tired from the hard workout Thursday and still pretty sore. Do you really think you can make it? I mean you should probably take it easy…”. No, Self. You shut your dirty mouth. I’m still mad at you and to a lesser degree, everything. I’m gonna push this till my nose bleeds and I’m gonna get faster.

I don’t know why, maybe it was that the 2 minute hill sets on Tuesday felt like they lasted an eternity and I was expecting that, but 1 minute felt short…at least for the first half of the repeats. I sprinted like the Krispy Kreme truck was driving away with my free donuts. I may have broken the sound barrier. Or maybe just a sound record with how hard my feet were hitting the treadmill. Whatever. I made it through the first 4 OK, and then I started feeling not so “recovered” in the recovery sets. I was having to forcefully slow down my breathing and really focus on my footfall rhythm. So I slowed that down a little. At this point my sinuses opened up and started pouring out. If I wasn’t so sweat soaked already, this might have looked gross. After a couple more repeats, I started almost feeling asthmatic like I COULDN’T get air in my lungs in the recoveries and a little light headed from trying to force my lungs to hold more air. So I slowed down a little more. I refused to go slower than 10:00 a mile though. NO WAY. I’m not running slower than that any more EVER. The last sprint repeat, I had to bring it back to 9.5mph (6:18/m). My legs were starting to feel heavy and I didn’t want to tank out on the treadmill and eat shit. I’m positive SOMEONE would catch that on video and I would be the next viral video idiot. That would figure.

After this workout, I actually felt the “runner’s high”. I had forced enough oxygen to my brain through hyperventilation and gotten enough endorphins in my bloodstream that I felt pretty damn good and really OK with life for a little while. I even sang a song while I made my recovery drink. Cue furry woodland creatures perched on my shoulders and birds in the window and all that warm and fuzzy crap.

It didn’t last. I went out in the “feels like 109” heat index to muck and ride after that. Yea. AFTER THAT. I’m a nutbag. I didn’t last long. I hate this state.

I Want To Kill Everybody In The World

22 Jul

Day 61:

Scheduled: 5 mile long run

Actual: 1m 6:40, lifting 1hr, 1m 7:00

Times I barfed: 2

Times I cared: 0

With her rage induced speed session and blog-vent, Brittany started me thinking this week about why it is, exactly, that I started running, and why I continue to run now. I then had the week from hell wherein I started seeing red and wanted to rip the trachea out of the front of many many people’s necks, use them to put war paint on myself and throw molotov cocktails randomly as I ran cackling from the campus grounds. So rather than fill you in on the boring details of my workouts for the past couple of days (yesterday all I managed was lifting a beer to my mouth and today I had so much rage to burn off I worked myself till I puked. Twice.) I have decided to take a moment and reflect on why it is I repeatedly push my body until it breaks.

I am, and always have been a very sarcastic, self-hating and largely angry person in my head. I have developed the ability to hide it pretty well (except the sarcasm. That spills forth in abundance as I’m sure you are already aware if you read this travesty on a regular basis). Call it a defense mechanism for modern life, this control. Instead of letting it fly like the heathen I really am, I turn it inward and punish my body athletically as a means of releasing the large amount of sheer physical damage I want to do to people in a “healthy” direction that won’t get me a 1 way ticket someplace with padded walls, heavy bracelets and jackets that are too tight. This is also why I don’t play team sports. I am not a team player and I don’t lose well. If there are other people involved, there will be elbows flying and shins stomped “accidentally” while I cackle gleefully inside. All the better if they cry. Bonus points if they’re boys, double for nut-shots (told you I was a bitch). I am about a half-step away from being Dexter’s understudy.

Horses have, for much of my life, been my safe-haven from reality. No matter how insane or crappy things are, I can go to the barn, pull out my horse and it’s all OK, even if only for an hour or so until I leave. During the time I was without any kind of equine contact at all, I became a bitter angry hell-bitch full of self-doubt and I needed a new outlet. Since I thought my knees were too crappy for running, I would go to the gym and attack an elliptical/stair machine like it had done me a personal injustice while blasting loud music in my ears until my vision started to tunnel. I would burn close to 1000 calories in an hour. My chewed-till-they-bled fingers and lips were a testament to my holding back my acid tongue during civilized working hours in contact with the public.

A few years ago, I started running. Initially it was a way to get in shape again since I’d slowly lost all motivation to do anything and was simmering in a pile of lazy bitch stew. I felt that the ellipticals were insufficient exercise and I had no clue about weight lifting at that point, other than the fact that the cable machines never did much for me. Since running felt hard, I ran on and off, never very far, never very fast and never outside. Just a way for me to be by myself for a while and sweat. After a particularly rough summer, it became an easy outlet for all the poison that was building up in my brain before I lashed out irrationally and endangered myself and others. All I had to do was put on some sneakers and go out the door. Away.

I read a quote a couple months ago and now can’t find it again, but it said something like

“I’m not running away from anything. I’m chasing the demons out of my head.”

I think that pretty accurately describes what happens when I hit the pavement at this point. Running becomes a predatory, primal thing where I just make my overactive brain shut the fuck up for a hot minute and let my body do the screaming. Even if I’m not going terribly fast, there is something that happens mentally where I’m reasonably sure my brain-stem temporarily disconnects and all the bullshit stupid assanine crap that happens in the working world and all the home stresses and all the personal insecurities that make me want to tear my hair out don’t mean a damn thing. It’s just about pushing my body until I start to feel that wave of dizziness and nausea, until I take that first unsure, stumbling, fatigued step or start shaking and blacking out from effort. It’s about taking control of the anger and my little corner of reality for just a little while. It’s about cracking open the endorphin reserves and letting them flow like beer at Oktoberfest. When things get bad, I go until I puke.

I’ve been in a funk lately and since the heat is so oppressively keeping me from running like I need to in order to reset, my body has switched on the second string defenses of “I’m fuggin’ tired all the time and don’t want to think or move”. It’s hard to be super angry or motivated when this is going on (I.E. ALL SUMMER) since really ALL I want to do is sleep in an industrial freezer. Regardless, that “wanna slap a bitch” feeling still pokes its head up for air occasionally and man, this week was rough keeping it under control so that I didn’t do something that would permanently damage my personal relationships or professional status (such as it is). Today, I was so pent up, I went to the gym and went full out, puked, and went back for more. I didn’t stop until the gym closed. I lifted WAY heavier than I normally do, ran like a crazy and came out the other side feeling much more settled. The bloodlust is sated for the time being.

If I am physically able to get out of bed tomorrow, I will be disappointed.

Dubsteppin’ Up the Hill.

20 Jul

Day 59 (Yesterday):

Scheduled: Hill intervals 2/1, 5x (2 min uphill, 1 min flat rest jog, 5 repeats)

Actual: Hill intervals 2/1 6x (Extra one! Bonus points?!). Incline of 5.0 1 min, 6.0 1 min, 9:40/m pace consistent the whole way through. Also 3×12 swiss ball jack-knifes.

Hills: Effing hard

Kelly: Totally wussy at hills

Timer checks during hill portions: Apx every 5 seconds.

Music: Skrillex

Side cramp: annoying

Chinese food & diet coke: Not for pre-run

Knees: Definitely feeling it

So, being raised in Florida the flattest of flat swamps, I have never really had to contend with these “hill” things in my athletic life. The one time I went for a run on Cape Cod where there is a profusion of these geographic anomalies, I was gasping, wheezing and tripping after less than a mile. Hills are effing hard and, as it turns out, all the badassery I have acquired when running on flat ground flies right out the window when I start going uphill. I turn into a struggling, whiney pussoi. Alas, I know that running, at the very least, wussy baby treadmill hill repeats will make me stronger and faster on the flat (thinking in horse terms like it’s gymnastics….lol). It only took 9 weeks of training, but I finally made it to the gym for a Tuesday hill workout and actually did it.

I will preface this with excuses because it’s my blog and I can. I probably should have only run 3 or 4 miles Monday seeing as it was an “easy” run day and my long run this week is 5 miles….so my legs were feelin’ the stress a little already before I started. That being said, I did push it. I am still of the value for time mindset in regards to workouts. If I’m putting in time, it’s gonna be balls out 100% time so I get the most out of it.

Glenn loaded me up with hours of dubstep to listen to and since I would be on the treadmill with a dramatically lower chance of being hit by a car or abducted (not saying it’s impossible…but probably just as much chance of being impaled by a narwhal), I figured I would rock some music to pump me up through the hills. Good thing I did.

I started with a 5 incline. I know some of you out there might be laughing at my ineptitude, but seriously. I’ve run hills a total of about 10 times in my life and I’m pretty sure at least 8 of those were with the express purpose of rolling back down in the grass when I was a kid. The first set was tough but I started feeling slightly optimistic that this wouldn’t be as bad as I originally thought. Then I started the second repeat. And by 20 seconds in, I was done. I kept checking the clock and wondering how I got stuck in the space-time continuum where the counter had slowed down so much. Then I increased the incline. 1% extra doesn’t sound like a lot, but holy cheezus I was panting and hurting. When I put it back to flat for the rest sets it actually felt like I was going downhill a little and seemed SO effing easy. Just over too soon.

Because the hill effort had addled my brain and counting skills, or because I feel the need to go till I barf, I did an extra repeat. I actually had the delusional idea to try for 8 repeats until my left knee started complaining in the 6th one and I decided to cut my losses and run again another day.

I’m sort of looking forward to seeing if this makes a noticeable improvement in the ease or speed of my run Thursday or if after 5 miles, hills and lifting I’m just toast. Thanks to the foam roller, I’m really not sore today (sort of mad my abs aren’t after all those jack-knifes. Will have to do more tonight) so outlook is unclear…

All I know is hills are hard and they better be worth it, dammit.


19 Jul

Day 58: (PS, this is for last night)

Scheduled: 5 mile easy

Actual (you can click and see it!!): 5.01 miles, 46m:48s. Average: 9:21/mile (including 2 short stops to wait for traffic and 1 to flail-pull a super strong spider web off my throat before I got garroted)

Temp: 79

Humidity: 71%

Walk breaks: Z.E.R.O. NONE! Not even a short one!

Pitiful little pups who found a home: 1

Pitiful big pups who are now sad panda: 1

Times I waffled on whether to run outside or at the gym: 56

Wildlife count: Armadillo: 1, Raccoon: 2, Opossum: 1, Snakes: 1, Cats: 3

I just learned I can post a link to my run on Endomondo so you can see for yourself how much I rock or suck and read all the awkward motivational things people send me in peptalks so that you can be inspired to also peptalk me. 😉 You know you want to. Been posting my Glympse on FB too, so all you creepers can stalk-watch me run real time.

At his new home! 😀

Firstly, good news. Dobby the foster dog has a family and a home and went to start his new awesome spoiled dog life yesterday afternoon. It was sad to see him go, but he got a GREAT home and admittedly it is nice to have a quiet house again and that much less dog dander to make my face/self itch. Dezzi’s a sad panda but he got to play with the neighborhood kids outside today and doesn’t have to share his toys any more, so he can’t complain too much.

More good news, it turns out if the temp outside goes down by 5 degrees and the humidity by 25%, I can actually almost BREATHE outside, which means I can run in something approaching a resemblance to comfort and can maintain a decent pace! Who woulda thunk?! I was a little gun-shy after the horror show of a run on Sat, but since the most wonderful and compassionate tropical storm Bert was sucking the humidity off the coast and the loverly breeze blew the temp down a bit, I figured I should take advantage of the relatively “nice” weather outside and brave it.

I was super grumpy all day and ate a healthy but big dinner including Ruby Tuesday’s mac and cheese (if you haven’t had it….drop what you’re doing and go there now. Get the side meal and order 3 helpings of mac and cheese. You will not regret it. It is a damn revelation of creamy, melty, stretchy wonderment). I was nearing stuffed but after the terrible Sat. run and terrible mood all day, I didn’t really care if the 5 miler went well. I was assuming it would hurt either way.

What 70% humidity feels like after 95%. It'!

Well, I was wrong. It wasn’t terrible and it didn’t hurt. The difference in the humidity was like night and day. People in other parts of the country who say that 70% humidity is “muggy” can shut their damn whore -mouths because they have NO idea just how suffocating it can be and how crippling it feels when that number edges up past the 90 mark and how comparatively magnificent and light it feels when you are then blessed with “muggy 70%”. I  chugged a vitamin water before leaving because I decided I was lazy and didn’t want to carry the bottle, and headed on out.

I also decided to say fuck being self conscious after about the first mile and ditched my shirt (well…I pulled it over my head so I was wearing it as a shrug/neck-sweat mop) and ran in just shorts and sports bra. I may be worried about muffin tops and jiggling, but it’s 10:30pm, dark and even though the weather was improved, mothafucka it’s still hot out and I want that little cool breeze to hit every bit of skin possible. It made SUCH a difference. I think I will be investing in a few more good sports bras so I can continue this trend…also more crunches and swissball workouts…

I managed to be pretty damn consistent holding all my mile times right around the 9:15 mark until the last one. That last half mile I ran out of go and kept slowing down a bit, but at that point it was easy to push back up to speed since I knew I didn’t have much left. I felt AWESOME after finishing 5 miles that easily.

Chock one up for success. Hill intervals tonight. I WILL NOT MISS THEM THIS TIME!!