Bust a Move

Good news! This infirmity has allowed me a handy excuse to consume carbohydrates in excess. Another day or two, and I shall have made up for all the pounds I so recently lost. Why is it that protein is so unappetizing to an invalid?
Is it just me?
As I wallow in inertia, I find my palate drawn to fruit, chocolate, bread, and ....well, that about covers it. I was consoling myself earlier with the promise that my eventual return to running, bodybuilding and intentional eating is bound to be such a shock to my system that excess weight is certain to fall right off.

To add variety to the staggering boredom brought on by the profound lethargy I'm experiencing, I learned something quite sobering. I learned that several human beings are more sedentary on a healthy day than I am in debilitating illness.
I learned this thus:
I believe I've mentioned my Fitbit obsession to you. Yes? Well, Fitbit allows friends to compete with one another for steps. Monday through Friday, every week, I am privileged to compete with a varying number of friends for the most steps during the work week. Every week I come in second place to my insane baby sister, Bentley (not the runner, but an equally energetic and youthful sister).

Bentley routinely "steps" in excess of 25,000 steps per day. Sometimes she goes over 40,000. No one can compete with that, except perhaps my sister Dani. But, I digress. My point is that this week I am still in second place.
In competition with five fine human beings, I have been on the couch since early Tuesday, yet I am still 7,000 steps ahead of the number 3 position.

How is that even possible?

I'm utterly flummoxed to consider that there are four people on the planet who have moved less than I have this week.

There is evidence to suggest that I am destined to survive the ravages of this illness. I'm not saying that I'm ready to commit to actually getting anything done just yet, but there is a good chance that I will be able to avoid the recliner until naptime tomorrow. Unfortunately, this means that I will have to adopt a moderate pace for my Mozart in the Jungle viewing. Hopefully I'll be able to accelerate my Fitbit pace, though. It would be nice to give Bentley a run for her money next week.

And people, please, don't be sedentary. Sedentary is bad.

In which the hills revive my faultering attitude

I did find a way to get some alone time yesterday, which went a long way towards improving my attitude. The secret to my success was an 8 mile run through the desolate expanse of the Boise foothills.

Don't be overly impressed by the sentence in which I claimed to run several miles. This is not to be in any way construed as a feat of herculean endurance. I mean, I meant it to sound that way, but it was kind of misleading. I don't really run 8 miles. What is do is somewhat less arduous. It usually goes like this:

I start walking with Pandora streaming music from my "running" station into my headphones. After about the first mile, I find that my blood's a pumpin' and so I commence to hiking. This involves some gradual assent. After the second mile or so, I realize that this is going to take all day unless I pick up the pace, so I jog a bit. Before you know it, I've got enough elevation to enjoy an inspirational vista, at which point I get some kick from the endorphins. By mile 5, I get to running for real, and I practice expanding my stride to cover the most distance for the least effort. I'm lazy that way. Before you know it, I'm back to the parking lot, and I have to go back to being Not Alone some more. I'm a huge fan of this kind of running.

The most remarkable benefits come from vigorous exercise. First, I find that I can eat a staggering amount of food with voracious appetite and no expanse of my girth. Second, is the solitude and personal reflection. This leads to the third benefit: I find that I become a pleasant person. Perhaps that's an overstatement. The truth is that I become too tired to be crabby. It's a beautiful thing. I'm all for physical exertion.

My baby sister is a Real Runner, and I very much admire her. She is this little waif of a lady with lovely Disney Princess Eyes and perfectly enviable toilette, with a big I.Q. This marvel of femininity regularly runs in excess of a marathon. She's one of those Ultra Marathoner Persons. I'd have to hate her if she weren't so great. She runs like this:

 

Besides how cold she must be, and how cute her hair looks in braids, I see the gigantic solitude in this photo, and that alone would be sufficient to make me want to be a runner. I'll bet she's nice to her husband and children just all the time. Wouldn't you think?

 

 



 

I have no pictures of myself running. I was looking through pictures just now to see if I had even a single photo of myself in action. But, no. I have pictures of myself eating. Drinking. Dancing. Kissing. Laughing. In each of these I am surrounded by people. Which makes sense I guess, because who takes a selfie when jogging? Wait, don't answer that.

Here's one of me hiking:

You're welcome.

 

 

 

So, just now my sweet son just plopped down on the couch and settled in to watch me blog. He started talking to me. I lovingly interrupted him and said "Go away."

He said , "What?! Why?"

I may have glared ever so slightly, I certainly sighed heavily. "I am trying to have some alone time, here. I am Blogging. I love you. GO AWAY."

And he did. Just like that.

Maybe I don't need to resort to running after all.

 





 



It's all uphill from here

I tried to register for the Most Difficult Race in the NorthWest. It's called The Race to Robie Creek, and it's quite a big deal. It sold out in 21 minutes.
No doubt, if I had succeeded in paying these people for two months of anticipation, I would have awoken this morning with buyer's remorse of the worst kind.
It's a 13.1 mile race through the foothills of Boise during the heat of mid-day. It's suicide.
I bought new running shoes as a sort of consolation prize.
Instead of buyer's remorse this morning, I awoke with an appetite. I needed to apply myself to the consumption of calories because my training has depleated me such that Dinner hour finds me ravenous.
I ran five miles yesterday, for which I felt exceedingly proud. The pride lasted about fifteen minutes, which was how long it took me to mix my protien shake and get logged on to the Robie Creek Website. Five miles is woefully inadequate in the face of a half-marathon, uphill.
Clearly, I am not over the fact that I couldn't register.
They have technical issues every year, or so I'm told. Registration opens at precicely noon, and only 2,100 fortunate souls are accepted. The website can't quite handle the onslaught.
I suppose that any half-marathon I run this year will seem easy by comparison. Maybe I'll get in next year.
Maybe not.
Meanwhile, training allows me to eat more, which is a delightful problem to have!

Today

Mother, who loves all her daughters equally, gave me a new excuse to avoid running. She said, "Honey, you just don't have the build of a runner. You're more, er, feminine in shape. Now, your sister, she's built like a runner." (read, "Honey, them's childbearing hips. Your skinny, young sister is kicking your you-know-what.)
It's not like I need any more excuses, as I haven't run out yet. Get it? I haven't Run out....?
I did run a couple days ago. I got about 6 mailboxes down the street before I realized that it was too cold. I walked home.
So, I'm feeling confident about the race. Who wouldn't? How hard can 13 miles be?

In other news, we have a lacrosse tournament today. If you happen to be in town for the Tablerock Shootout, come say "hi." I'll be the one yelling my lungs out.

Ok, duty calls. I need to go straighten my daughter's hair....

Wasn't there a movie about Lent? Or was that Lentle?

One of my friends just said to me today, "I saw on your blog that you are Protestant. Does that mean I'm Protestant, too?" She didn't know she was, but she is. Isn't that wonderful? I wish I didn't know that I was Protestant. That would give me more to think about.
Like Lent.
Today is the beginning of Lent, and I have given up alcohol. I'm really doing fine. I mean, other than the shaking and the cold sweat. Just kidding.
Besides the Lenting, and the tea drinking, I am also still in training for that half marathon.
It's hard work. For instance, today I walked two miles. It's gonna kill me, this training.
I'm really bad about the actual running. I whine, and avoid and do other things, and then I wonder why I am not doing better. In truth, I trained a lot today, just not with the running part. I rode a bike for about 15 mins. Walked briskly for half an hour. Worked a heavy bag for half an hour. Did weight training for 45 mins. I'm not really what you'd call a slacker. Except for the part where I was supposed to run 6 miles today, and I didn't.
I'm sure the race will be no big deal, since I'll be in fantastic shape. Right? I am running about 2 days a week. Sometimes.

I'm Protestant, a slacker, and female. Good thing I'm not single, eh? No one would have me.

Jenine made me shop

When you are going to run a half marathon, and you are me, you carefully evaluate your clothing options for training.

Everyone is more motivated when well dressed.

This conviction led me to a rather impromptu shopping spree this very afternoon at the local Fred Meyer. One would not expect that Fred Meyer would inspire uncontrolled spending. Well.

I am now the proud owner of some seriously killer running shoes, which, in my defense, were on sale. I also got several outfits to wear with my new shoes. By "several" I mean that I purchased a motivating new wardrobe intended to convince everyone that I am, in fact, a Runner.

This spending is Jenine's fault.
Here's how I worked out the question of blame...

See, Jenine is also training for the Big Race. She, who recently gave birth, is a total stud. When she called to inform me that she ran five miles today, where as I only ran four, I knew that I needed new clothing.

My 20-something sister, Dani, is also training for this race. She also recently gave birth, but she's in her 20s, so she can do anything.
We, who are knee-deep in our thirties, have more of an uphill battle. By "we" I mean Jenine.
I, as you recall, am rapidly approaching 40. I am just going to be really proud of myself if I can finish the blasted 13.1 miles in the dust of Dani's and Jenine's amazing running-ness. This is why I needed cool clothes and fancy running shoes. Obviously, I am not fool enough to try to compete with Dani, and I can't really even compete with Jenine. This is why I created a new Fashion Category, so I can feel better about my old self.

The race is May 15th, so you are likely to be hearing about it from time to time. Gripping story lines are what I'm all about. Who wants to train with me?

Here's what I've done this week: Monday Dani and I ran 4 miles in 45 mins. I was busy aching and recovering yesterday, although I did lift weights. Today, I ran, and walked a total of 4 miles in 50 mins. The walking part is because I was tired of running, and I can do anything I want. I did lift weights today, so that should help.

Mostly, I have been running distance twice a week, and interval training three other days. I do weights 4-5 days a week.
Fascinating, no?

Inspire me with your training secrets.