It's like Tuesdays with Morrie without all the wisdom
I run
Take Back the Morning!
9I don’t know. Maybe that’s what I get for running on my own. Maybe my stretchy pants were too tight (undoubtedly too tight; it’s been a long winter). Maybe I asked for it. All I know is I was running on the trail, enjoying an episode of Radio Lab when I heard the gentle rhythmic clink, clink, clink of dog tags coming up behind me on my right. Many runners who run with dogs will pass my slow ass on the right so they can keep their dog’s feet on the cushy grass instead of the paved trail. That is what I thought was happening, so I didn’t bother to look behind me. And then I felt a not-so-gentle pressure in my bottom area. While experiencing a mini heart attack, I looked back to see a leashless dog trying to get to know me in a very direct way. As his owner passed me on the left, she gave me a nice little, “Oh, he’s friendly.” Um, no shit? I can tell by the way he has his nose buried in my bum. That does not excuse him. I very rarely like to be surprised in that area. Very rarely. And I can’t think of a single scenario where I would like to be surprised in that area while running. He’s friendly? Well, that’s good to know. Then put your stupid friendly dog on a leash so that a not-so-friendly runner doesn’t have to kick him or, at the very least, blog about him. He might have caught me off guard this morning. All I could do was mutter a little under my breath, but I won’t be so vulnerable next time. I’m taking back the morning. It’s my body and I will run where I want without worrying about being victimized by random dogs. I don’t know what I’ll do next time because I’m too much of a pansy to actually abuse the abuser, but I might cuss at him or something. I swear to God I’ll cuss.
Stop Distracting Me While I’m Studying
1March 10, 2008
When I’m supposed to be studying for an exam, I usually wander around youtube for, like, 2 hours. This is what I found tonight while avoiding my statistics studies. It won’t be funny if you haven’t heard David Sedaris read any of his stories on NPR (yes I’m white), but it is so spot-on. My friends know that when I’m running, I’m often listening to something like that on my iPod (super white), which is why I run with a mouth-hanging-open smile on my face and it’s also why I don’t even notice them on the trail until they’re almost on top of me, waving their arms like an air traffic controller. You know, the ones on the tarmac, not the ones in the tower. I’m definitely going to study now. Or not.
David Sedaris Delivers a Pizza
I Like Stretchy Pants
8I like stretchy pants so much that I named my new blog after them.
See the racing stripes? The main reason I like stretchy pants is because they usually have racing stripes, which gives the illusion of activity. Another reason I like them is because they’re stretchy, providing comfort for enjoying the ultimate inactivity (usually web surfing). Also, they look good with running shoes, which furthers the illusion of activity. Sometimes I run in my stretchy pants and running shoes, but I know for a fact that lots of people wear stretchy pants with racing stripes even if they’ve never raced a day in their lives. And that’s what’s so cool about the stretchy pants. I’m going to wear mine to the grocery store right now and I’m going to act like, “Geez, I just ran a race and now I have to come and get groceries and I’m just ever so busy, busy, busy!” People will fall for it because of the racing stripes.
Nuffin’
6November 20, 2007
I just want to say, just like Liberty, I’m very excited for Thanksgiving. We have friends coming to run the Turkey Trot, then we’ll be eating, drinking, and lazing around. What’s not to love? No gifts, no decorating, no pressure. Lots of busyness with the shopping and chopping and cooking and baking, but that’s not pressure. That’s just preparation for feasting. Feasting is my favorite.
I’m extra happy to run the sweet, sweet 5 miles of the Turkey Trot after my last pressure-filled race debacle. Running and I have a precarious relationship that was very much in danger of ending during the summer and early fall. It goes against all of my sports needs: I have no chance of winning, there’s no ball, there’s no one to run away from, there’s no goal to run toward (intrinsic goals don’t count for anything), there’s no opponent to mock (because I have no chance of winning). Also, the really, really good runners are thin and lithe, and I have a sturdy body type more suited for sports like softball and beer bonging. Anyway, running and I are hesitant with each other at best, so I’m glad to be experiencing some excitement about the Turkey Trot because I feared that the 1/2 marathon might have taken all of the fun out of it. It didn’t. Yay. Happy Thanksgiving!
Know Thyself
11October 22, 2007
I’m more of a 10K kind of girl. I know this now.I ran the 1/2 marathon here in Columbus yesterday. It was a gorgeous day and the race route was awesome and my great friend Mechelle came down to run the marathon and we had tons of fun together except for the part where we ran farther than sane people should. I did better than I expected at 2:28:26, but the mental mind-f*ck that is required for somebody like me to run 13.1 miles was something I was unprepared for. I had a great first 6 miles, beating my previous 10K (6.2 miles) and 5-miler times by a healthy margin. I was feeling good physically, but once I hit that 6 mile point, my mind said, “Good, only 7.1 more to go……..What the hell do you mean only 7.1 more to go? Is that 7.1 more miles or yards? ‘Cuz I can totally do 7.1 more yards, but miles is going to be iffy.”
I had 2 goals for this race: 1. Run it in under 3 hours. Check. My other goal was to not walk at all for the entire way. No matter how slow I had to jog, I just wanted to keep it at a jog. This goal was going well until the water station between miles 9 and 10, where I let myself walk to get my drink. Just to get my drink! All of the other runners were slowing to a walk at the drink tables, so I figured it must be part of protocol. So I grabbed my water, breathed a pathetic thank you to the best race volunteers ever and slowed to a walk, at which point my legs said something like, “Good luck getting us to speed up to a run again, sucker!” After that, I walked, ran, walked, ran, and begged my brain to tell my legs to run. My brain kept saying, “How ’bout I just make sure the rest of your organs keep on a-workin’ for you, ‘k?” At the last mile, I was ready to run and I did. I ran the last mile. I ran across the finish line. I got my medal, I got my warming blanket, I got a banana, a water, and two asiago cheese bagels from Panera. And I took comfort in the fact that I was done. I waited for the elation and the thrill of accomplishment to wash over me, but all I kept thinking was, that was too f*cking far. Who runs that far? Why would anybody do that? And why would anybody run twice that far? It doesn’t make sense! In fact, I think running that far is a sign of psychological illness (no offense Mechelle). There’s just no reason to run that far unless you’re trying to outrun, say, a lion or something. No, even then, I think I would rather be eaten. Yes, I would honestly rather be mauled by a lion (it would have to be a very slow, and maybe even an injured, 3-legged lion with arthritis) than have to run 13.1 miles to safety.
It’s just good to know these things about myself.
