Post-Flu Trudging; Inspiration

I've run four times during the past week and feel pretty good . . . now. Last Monday was the first run since the flu (I had a cough that hung around for another week or so), and I felt like I was rumbling/trudging/weaving/gasping my way through the waddle. Now, I'm back to where I left off pre-flu, at two minutes walking and eight minutes running, maybe not quite as fast.

I may not be a good runner, but I look kind of like a runner, at least a big runner . . . long and sort of lean with a pretty fluid motion on the treadmill. Last night, I was running next to a lady who was just beginning an exercise program; and if I guessed, I'd say she was about 5'4" and around 250 pounds.

I was pretty impressed when she cranked up her treadmill to run for a short while, then slowed back to walk, then cranked it back up again, then returned to walking. I don't think that was her plan; I just think she felt like running.

Inspiration sometimes comes in odd forms, and I am truly inspired by women like her. I see them a lot at the Y, and I have to ask myself, somebody who looks like a runner, although a big runner: How do these ladies, who are at a stage where they have minimal physical strengths and abilities, keep pushing themselves; while I whine and quit when a little sweat builds up or I get bored on the treadmill?

Guilt is a powerful motivator.

Best of luck, lady-I-ran-next-to.

Ain't Nothing But a Hound Dog

(sorry Elvis)

Normally I run on the YMCA's treadmill at night; so, with the indoor lights behind me and the darkness outside, I see my own reflection in the window ahead of me. Today I ran mid-afternoon and watch the world pass by, just like my dog would do.

I felt like my dog, just hanging out on a Sunday afternoon watching the traffic go by. I found myself looking left and following a car until it passed out of my site on the right. I watched cars pull fill up with gas and wait and wait and wait until traffic passed to get back on the main road. And I watched the Wal-Mart parking lot and those drivers who will wait five minutes to get a parking spot instead of walking an additional 30 seconds from a spot farther from the store. All in all, it was a pretty exciting run (?). At least I didn't let the dog thing get carried away and chase any cars.

I'm making progress on getting back into running shape, although I'm a little frustrated that I'm not greyhound graceful yet (I think I'll be in the hound-dog stage for awhile). I'm up to the 3 minutes walking / 7 minutes running for 30 minutes, and probably will bump that up to 2 minutes / 8 minutes by the end of the week.

If I ran outside, I'd probably be running the entire 30 minutes, but I hate running on treadmills, so the beginner's walking/running split is perfect for breaking up the run-killing treadmill monotony.

A SIDE NOTE: In the past year, I've really improved my weightlifting, especially my benchpress. I'm up to about three sets of 12 repetitions with 225 pounds, so my chest is significantly bigger. So . . . where do I buy a manly bra? I'm not accustomed to running and having to counterbalance bouncing boobs!

Like a ton of bricks

Originally published December 1, 2007

What happened!? Felt so good after my last run . . . headed to the treadmill at the Y this afternoon and hit the wall after about three steps (at least it took me about 17 miles in the Austin Motorola Marathon). Not sure if the ton bricks refers to the wall that fell on me or the post-Thanksgiving mass I'm trucking around.

Just like the Kenyans

First published November 29, 2007

Tonight's run was AWESOME (okay, tonight's walk for two minutes, run for four was pretty good). A couple of years ago, I read in Runners World about the Kenyans' running style. What I remember most (okay, only) is that they hold their arms a little higher, which increases their forward lean and improves their speed.

I've been working on the treadmill at the Y, trying to get back into running, and I'm working on holding my arms higher. I've always run with my arms hung low and relaxed, so this is a little different (and tough to remember to do . . . especially at my age). When I do hold my arms higher, I can feel my pace smooth out (I'd tell that I'm running faster, too, except that I've been on a treadmill), but I haven't been able to sync my arms and legs.

HOWEVER, there have been some moments of BRILLANCE, when my arms are held high and they're right in sync with my legs and my lungs, and there's my fiercest competitor just ahead and my wife and kids are cheering, my friends have the beer cooled to 29 degrees and the finish line is just ahead (and Nike's looking for a new endorsement) and . . . well, you know the rest of the story.

I've just moved up to the 2/4 repetitions, but feel pretty good.

Looking forward to picking up the pace in the next week.So, bring on the cheetahs and zebras!

Starting Over (again)

Originally published November 9, 2007

"Starting all over again is gonna be tough' . . . who sang that way back in the day (what a time to refer to as 'the day' . . . ugh!)?

Ran last night on the treadmill at the Y . . . 30 minutes, 3 walking, 3 running. Felt REALLY good, but sure was sore this morning (what happened?). Seem to be over the groin/ab injury, but I probably shouldn't push it.

Keep telling my wife -- the non-runner -- that I want to start running again . . . she asks 'why?' Any good answers?

But I'm sick and have a temperature

Originally published June 6, 2007

Back in the days of three TV channels (four if you could get PBS), 'I'm sick and have a temperature' was the tag line delivered by a semi-faking kid for a sure-fire remedy commercial. That's probably what my excuses for not running for the last few weeks sound like. Actually, I think I pulled a muscle in my lower abdomen after my 5K, and it really seems to become aggravated when I run. I have been using the elliptical trainer at the Y, but it's not quite the same (not nearly the sweat and staggering and general overall misery). I'm hoping that I'll be back to full speed (me and speed used in the same sentence -- ha!) in about a month. Can't do any ab work, and I feel kind of like Santa Claus.

And, then there's the friend, another dad, who's devastated because his son has chosen to run cross country and track instead of playing baseball. I don't think that the boy's coming out of the closet; I just think he's chosen to run. Is run-o-phobe an appropriate diagnosis for the dad?