Last night my training schedule called for a two mile run. I figured it wouldn't be a problem. In fact, I was actually looking forward to it now that the temperature around here has gone from "raging inferno" down to "small forest fire."
Overall, it was a good run, except for a sharp nagging stitch under my left rib that began around a half mile and didn't let up until I finished. Ow, ow, ow!
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
It's the distance, stupid
Sorry, I just couldn’t resist that little nugget from American political history. (Here is an explanation for my foreign friends, or my American ones if they've forgotten their early 1990s politics.)
My training schedule for the ½ marathon called for a four mile run this past weekend. I teamed up with another running friend on Saturday to give it a go. Unfortunately, the only time we could meet up was at noon, when the thermometer read 98 degrees.
Admittedly, attempting to run four miles in the kind of heat that makes chewed bubble gum on the sidewalk sizzle wasn’t exactly smart. But sometimes I don’t listen to my smart self. Sometimes I listen to my stupid self. To its credit, my smart self has kept me alive this long. But my stupid self has all the good stories to tell. Besides, my stupid self was being quite insistent that afternoon, telling me I was tough. I could do this. No problem.
My smart self would like to interject here and tell you with utmost certainty that I am not, I repeat NOT, that tough. My friend and I only made it about two miles when we had to stop and ask a security guard working some kind of “art-in-the-park” program where we could find the nearest water fountain. We must have looked really sweaty and pathetic – or perhaps we just reeked so badly with BO – because he gave us an ice-cold bottle of water he’d just received from the festival’s water truck. And on we went.
Sidenote: As we rounded the lake and were approaching the “art-in-the-park” program, I couldn’t help but think, “Geez, what’s wrong with these people? I certainly wouldn’t want to get my culture on in this scorching, mid-day heat.” At this point, my smart self popped into my head and, undoubtedly feeling a little slighted, said with unmistakable snarkiness, “Yes, apparently you much prefer exercise-induced heat exhaustion, idiot.”
We jogged a little more and even conquered a rather long and steady incline on the opposite side of the lake. But ultimately (and please forgive the pun) we couldn’t take the heat. Just after cresting the hill, I admitted defeat and slowed to a walk.
As we made our way back to our starting point, my friend mentioned that many of the running gurus – such as Hal Higdon and Jeff Galloway – say that walking isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The goal is to get your body used to going that distance, whether you walk it or run it. (Galloway even has an entire page on his Web site devoted to “Walk Breaks.”)
Hearing that it is the distance that counts in training, not the speed, made my smart, rational self feel a little bit better. But my stupid self still wants to try and finish this ½ marathon without walking.
My training schedule for the ½ marathon called for a four mile run this past weekend. I teamed up with another running friend on Saturday to give it a go. Unfortunately, the only time we could meet up was at noon, when the thermometer read 98 degrees.
Admittedly, attempting to run four miles in the kind of heat that makes chewed bubble gum on the sidewalk sizzle wasn’t exactly smart. But sometimes I don’t listen to my smart self. Sometimes I listen to my stupid self. To its credit, my smart self has kept me alive this long. But my stupid self has all the good stories to tell. Besides, my stupid self was being quite insistent that afternoon, telling me I was tough. I could do this. No problem.
My smart self would like to interject here and tell you with utmost certainty that I am not, I repeat NOT, that tough. My friend and I only made it about two miles when we had to stop and ask a security guard working some kind of “art-in-the-park” program where we could find the nearest water fountain. We must have looked really sweaty and pathetic – or perhaps we just reeked so badly with BO – because he gave us an ice-cold bottle of water he’d just received from the festival’s water truck. And on we went.
Sidenote: As we rounded the lake and were approaching the “art-in-the-park” program, I couldn’t help but think, “Geez, what’s wrong with these people? I certainly wouldn’t want to get my culture on in this scorching, mid-day heat.” At this point, my smart self popped into my head and, undoubtedly feeling a little slighted, said with unmistakable snarkiness, “Yes, apparently you much prefer exercise-induced heat exhaustion, idiot.”
We jogged a little more and even conquered a rather long and steady incline on the opposite side of the lake. But ultimately (and please forgive the pun) we couldn’t take the heat. Just after cresting the hill, I admitted defeat and slowed to a walk.
As we made our way back to our starting point, my friend mentioned that many of the running gurus – such as Hal Higdon and Jeff Galloway – say that walking isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The goal is to get your body used to going that distance, whether you walk it or run it. (Galloway even has an entire page on his Web site devoted to “Walk Breaks.”)
Hearing that it is the distance that counts in training, not the speed, made my smart, rational self feel a little bit better. But my stupid self still wants to try and finish this ½ marathon without walking.
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