|In a sweating contest between me and this guy, it would be a tie.|
I liked my Thursday ramblings so much last time that I have decided to make it a weekly feature. Here are my random thoughts from this week for your reading pleasure.
Things that are kinda lame:
I have been sore for three days after attempting a push up. I didn’t really do any, but my attempts have left me whimpering each time I try to pull a shirt over my head or drink from my water bottle. The workout was such that, at one point, I had to ask my husband if I actually did a push up. (gasping, panting, "Was that one?!?") He carefully thought about his answer and then gave a tiny head shake no. I guess I need to start with bench pressing. Or chest flies. Or pectoral implants.
Marathon is 52 days away. I am nervous and feeling unprepared, and that makes me unhappy. It is mostly my own fault, but hopefully not missing one workout between now and then will help me feel better. I pinned this printout of the 2011 Disney Marathon medal next to my computer at work. While I am writing for the man all day, this piece of paper haunts me from my periphery. I’m counting on the secret formula being: Clever subconscious messages+Training= A sub 6-hour finish. I can do less than 6 hours. I will do less than 6 hours.
Things that are looking up:
I am making my first appointment with an acupuncturist that a friend swears by for next week. I have not run without pain in almost a year, and the more miles I log, the more desperate I become. I have never tried any Eastern medicine, but I am desperate for this piriformis muscle to loosen. I plead with my left butt cheek every day. I say, “Please left butt cheek, please loosen up and let me run in peace” It answers only with stony silence and continues to torture me. The time has come. I am taking charge of my own butt cheek. It will be healed by 26.2 time. Oh yes. It will.
This morning when I was running on the treadmill at the gym (mmmhmmm *nodding vigorously* I did it again, and feel awesome about it!) I noticed a class going on. It was some type of hardcore jazzercise/kickbox thing. It looked so fun. I am going to make myself try it next week, which will, if all goes according to plan, mark the first time that I have been brave enough to attend one of those classes, even though I have been intrigued for years. I always felt like I would take up too much room in a class like that with my giant butt crowding people out and my ridiculously long limbs splaying into someone's personal space. But screw it. I pay for my membership just like those tiny girls, and I deserve a chance to do some dancing and air punching to Jay-Z to start my day, too. It’s on.
This time next week I will be turkey trotting and then cooking and hosting a calorie fest for a group of friends. This year will mark the 6th time that Mike and I have raced and cooked together, missing only one race last year when we had non-running family in town. This will also mark the first year that I will run all four miles without stopping/walking/gasping for air/clutching my sides in anguish. Watch me.
Things that are random:
I sweat WAY more when I work out in the morning than I do in the afternoon or evening. Is this a real thing? I feel like there should be some scientific evidence out there supporting this, like, “Not only are humans taller and lighter in the morning, they are also more prone, between the hours of 5 and 8 AM, to sweat enough to ruin their awesome, pricey, stay-put workout headphones.” That’s right, I sweated my headphones to death; the last thing I heard was the damp, warbled voice of David Lee Roth commanding me to Jump and then eery silence.
I think there should be a service you can subscribe to where an objective party grades your outfit via webcam each morning before work. I recently read an article that talked about how many people actually have a perception of themselves as being much more slender than they really are. They then dress in inappropriate clothing that is revealing or too-tight and leave the house thinking they look great. I feel like this happens to me regularly. Like I will be wearing an outfit that I think looks amazing, and then I see a photo of myself in it, or someone asks me when I’m due, and the illusion is shattered. My best friend said this happens to her with her makeup. She said, “I leave the house thinking I look nice and professional, and then I look in the bathroom mirror at the office and go, ‘Hello, stripper’” There have been a bunch of times I have seen a tall woman and thought, “Wow, she is SO tall” and then she walks by me, and I have two inches on her, and it baffles me. I apparently have no grasp on what I really look like, so now I’m convinced that I think all my outfits look better than they really do. What is that?
Bad at eating this week, but good at working out. Can never seem to get the two aligned. Just got an invite to an office potluck two days before Thanksgiving. It's called Snackapalooza. Really? Was that necessary? Hmmmmph...Holidays.
Highlights from Cara’s pink iPod during today’s run:
Mr. Wendal by Arrested Development. Old school, and still awesome.
Everything Falls Apart by Dog’s Eye View. One-hit-wonderful.