I hope you enjoyed the humorous narrative that was my first run. I'm here because I have almost 4 complete weeks of training under my belt and I have VALUABLE lessons to share with you. You know, in case you are considering torturing your body in such an exquisite way.
Lesson One:
Remember the errant saddlebags and knees? Let's just say they are assimilated. For you Trekkers (by the by, 'Trekkers' does not cause a spell-check red flag - we geeks have come a long way), they are in the collective. However, and I stress this, my lungs and heart are still in full rebellion. They have banded together to stage a coup. They are trying very hard to keep my saddlebags around. My saddlebags must have a great personality.
Lesson Two:
If you get cocky about how well you are doing, run your routine in reverse. Today I discovered that I HAD been running downhill most of the way. Reversing the routine, well, it changed my paradigm. And gave my heart and lungs a bit of a tactical advantage...
Lesson Three:
I decided to mix up the play list a bit. I added a U2 album to my running playlist. U2 makes music for motion. The guitar player plays like he's on the move. I want to jump into a convertible and get my Grace Kelly scarf flowing to their music. If people in a horror movie had U2, they'd get away EVERY time.
Lesson Four:
Wind and humidity are evil.
That is all.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Refuge
I decided to start the C25K (Couch to 5K) program. It's a slow, regimented program that will train me to run a 5K in 9 weeks. I've had knee problems from jumping into a running program ahead of the beginning, so this time I decided to take it slow. Today was the first day of the program. So, this morning, I left the house with my cell phone and lots of optimism. I downloaded a program to my phone that sends audible tones when I'm supposed to walk and then when I need to run. It works 'on top' of my music, so I get to listen to my favorite playlist while training.
About three minutes into the 5 minute warm up, I realized something. It was quiet. I mean, there was music in my ears, but there wasn't a person around needing something. No one calling "Mamma" over and over and over again. I was alone with my favorite music and the cool April morning. Euphoria.
Until the tone rang and it was time for my first 1-minute jog. My body responded with a resounding "NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" My shins started burning after 15 seconds. My knees felt like they had sand in them. My
saddlebags protested by sending my brain messages that they were bruised beyond functioning. Just as I was thinking, "What WAS I thinking," the song I was listening to ended and I was once again reminded of the quiet. It was much more powerful than my body's rebellion.
I paid attention to my body. Felt the muscles in my legs working - allowed myself to be in awe of the human form. I felt the breeze across my cheeks. I almost wanted to close my eyes.
Another tone and I was walking for two minutes. My legs were burning. Lungs were weighted. From a 1-minute jog. This was bad. But the quiet, it was so worth it. So, I gave myself to the quiet. Listened to my music, paid attention to the pounding of my feet against the pavement. I was aware of the earth around me, of my body finally settling into the work - loosening in relief that the long winter of inactivity was over.
It was a blissful and painful 25 minutes. The secret to getting outside for a run? 11 years of motherhood to four kids. Who knew.
About three minutes into the 5 minute warm up, I realized something. It was quiet. I mean, there was music in my ears, but there wasn't a person around needing something. No one calling "Mamma" over and over and over again. I was alone with my favorite music and the cool April morning. Euphoria.
Until the tone rang and it was time for my first 1-minute jog. My body responded with a resounding "NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" My shins started burning after 15 seconds. My knees felt like they had sand in them. My
saddlebags protested by sending my brain messages that they were bruised beyond functioning. Just as I was thinking, "What WAS I thinking," the song I was listening to ended and I was once again reminded of the quiet. It was much more powerful than my body's rebellion.
I paid attention to my body. Felt the muscles in my legs working - allowed myself to be in awe of the human form. I felt the breeze across my cheeks. I almost wanted to close my eyes.
Another tone and I was walking for two minutes. My legs were burning. Lungs were weighted. From a 1-minute jog. This was bad. But the quiet, it was so worth it. So, I gave myself to the quiet. Listened to my music, paid attention to the pounding of my feet against the pavement. I was aware of the earth around me, of my body finally settling into the work - loosening in relief that the long winter of inactivity was over.
It was a blissful and painful 25 minutes. The secret to getting outside for a run? 11 years of motherhood to four kids. Who knew.
Monday, April 5, 2010
A whole new ball game
You'd think that, having four kids, I'd be pretty educated at this parenting thing. You wouldn't think that I'd be getting schooled by an 18-month-old. Alas...
Staying at home with children is a whole new ball game. It's sort of like this: say I was an expert at baseball. Let's compare the wisdom I gained raising Pearce and Cole to that. I'm a seasoned baseball veteran with overall good stats. Enter Stone and (especially) Cade. You've just taken me from my comfortable world of baseball and dropped me onto a cricket field. Ok, there's a pitcher, a bat, bases - looks slightly familiar. Except you call the pitcher a bowler, the batter a batsman, and the field is sort of roundish with only two bases. Suddenly, I'm in familiar-looking, but totally alien territory.
You get it? That's what it's like raising these two little ones (again, especially Cade). Case in point, this morning, I was feeling pretty cocky. Too cocky. I needed to get the Monday routine started. Mondays, I have the house cleaning to do - vacuuming, mopping, dusting, etc. - on top of my normal daily routine of laundry, dishes, and phonics with Stone. I devised a brilliant plan to keep the kids out of my hair for what I was sure was going to be along time.
Sidewalk paint.
We have a *tiny* pad of concrete out our back door that was the perfect place. They were safe, engaged, and (best of all) out of my hair.
I went to load the laundry and make the bed feeling pretty good about myself. This is what I came back to. People, I'm telling you it was no more than 3 minutes later.
Who am I kidding? Raising Stone is like Cricket. Raising Cade is like being dropped into Quidditch.
Good thing he's so cute. How else would he survive?
Staying at home with children is a whole new ball game. It's sort of like this: say I was an expert at baseball. Let's compare the wisdom I gained raising Pearce and Cole to that. I'm a seasoned baseball veteran with overall good stats. Enter Stone and (especially) Cade. You've just taken me from my comfortable world of baseball and dropped me onto a cricket field. Ok, there's a pitcher, a bat, bases - looks slightly familiar. Except you call the pitcher a bowler, the batter a batsman, and the field is sort of roundish with only two bases. Suddenly, I'm in familiar-looking, but totally alien territory.
You get it? That's what it's like raising these two little ones (again, especially Cade). Case in point, this morning, I was feeling pretty cocky. Too cocky. I needed to get the Monday routine started. Mondays, I have the house cleaning to do - vacuuming, mopping, dusting, etc. - on top of my normal daily routine of laundry, dishes, and phonics with Stone. I devised a brilliant plan to keep the kids out of my hair for what I was sure was going to be along time.
Sidewalk paint.
We have a *tiny* pad of concrete out our back door that was the perfect place. They were safe, engaged, and (best of all) out of my hair.
I went to load the laundry and make the bed feeling pretty good about myself. This is what I came back to. People, I'm telling you it was no more than 3 minutes later.
Who am I kidding? Raising Stone is like Cricket. Raising Cade is like being dropped into Quidditch.
Good thing he's so cute. How else would he survive?
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