Friday, July 30, 2010

For you Charlene...

It's been so hot out. And I can't seem to get motivated to run after Too Hot To Handle. It just took so much out of me. So Jeff and I joined a gym. My work pays for the membership so it's really ridiculous that we hadn't done it yet. We've been going a couple of weeks now. Jeff does the weights. I take classes. I actually love the classes. I'm kind of getting addicted to them. I love them all. Well, that's not totally true. It's more of a love hate relationship. But I do love to hate them....

So Serene and I went to what we thought was a normal lift class last week. With a normal instructor. But no. The normal instructor was out. And she was replaced by the Lift Nazi. I'm not even joking. He was this big Mr. T looking guy. Mr. T minus the mohawk but still. He walked around the room screaming. Screaming if you weren't lifting enough weights. Screaming if you were lifting too much. Seriously, there was no pleasing him. Towards the end of class he comes over to yell at Serene for not having her back down far enough. Or something like that. I'm not totally sure. I was just trying not to make eye contact with him. It didn't work. Next he's screaming at me because my legs aren't low enough. I swear if I had any strength left in me and I wasn't fighting back tears...I would have totally kicked him in the nay nays. Is that low enough for ya? Seriously.

And then to make things worse...we decided to take his spin class the next day. Apparently we liked being called out in front of the entire class. What?! I know. We are stupid. Oh but Spin Nazi is so much worse than Lift Nazi. So much worse. QUIT PEDALING IN THE BOX. YOU'RE ONLY AT A 4. YOU SHOULD BE AT A 7. I've never wanted to punch someone in the face more. Well, that's probably not true but I did want to hurt him. Bad.

Monday, July 19, 2010

What's in a name

That which we call a rose by any other any other name would smell as sweet.


Too Hot to Handle. I should have known from the name alone that this was going to be a miserable, hard race. But really it could have been called "Easiest Race Ever" and I should still have known better. I should know that if I'm dying of heat exhaustion on an easy 4 mile training run, that a 15k would probably kill me. But I didn't know.

Delusions of grandeur, maybe? Yes, I think that was it. That's a mental illness, right. Yes, that's what happened. Temporary mental illness. That has to be why I signed up for this race. Temporary mental illness.

Well, that and the swag. Sadly, It's all about the swag really. I mean, look at this:

All this for a 15K? And it wasn't even an expensive race. Yep, I had no choice but to sign up. I had to have that super cute tech shirt. (And it really is super cute. The fit is amazing. Very flattering.)

I had no real plan for survival for this race. Just hydrate. Hydrate. Hydrate. Everyone else had a plan. Intervals. Or walking through water stops. Or something. But no, not me. I never have a plan. I just run. And if I can't run anymore, I stop. But I usually find something in me that will keep me running. Even when I want to stop.

But not yesterday. I couldn't dig any deeper. There was nothing left to keep me going. What mile did you see me, Serene? Mile 6? Or was it 7? I don't know but I was just standing under the water mister the race people had set up. Just standing there. Getting drenched. I think I was in some sort of daze or something. I heard someone call my name and I was like, ohh crap I should be running not standing. So I ran. I ran for another mile or two. Then I just stopped again. I was at least walking this time but still. I must have looked bad because my friend, Meg, comes up behind me and tells me to pour some water on my head. I did it without argument. Before that, I really thought I was going to have to walk it in. And I did walk some more. I had no choice. It was awful. But I finished. With a horrible and embarrassing time. But I finished.

I talked to a friend who ran it also. A MUCH younger and faster friend. She lost it at mile 7 too. Had to walk some. Sadly, her pain made me feel so much better. (Yes, Brooke, I was happy to hear about your pain. Whatever. That doesn't make me a bad person. Right?)

Anyway, I will wear my shirt proudly. I earned it. Will I sign up for this again next year? Who knows, maybe. I guess it depends on the swag.

Daily Mantra:

What doesn't kill me, makes me stronger.

Monday, July 12, 2010

What goes up must come down...right?!

I train in and around Stonebridge. For those of you not familiar, Stonebridge is an area of McKinney. A very hilly area. A very very very hilly area. Saturday morning I woke up before anyone else (it was the first Saturday in ages that I didn't have to be somewhere). I threw on my running clothes and off I went.

I decided on an out and back 4 mile course that I use for hill training. I was just going to take it easy and see what I could do. The 2 miles out are straight uphill so the 2 back should be downhill. Right? Wrong. I don't know how it happens but there is never a downhill in Stonebridge. Ever. Even when you turn around and come down a hill you just went up. I know it seems ridiculous but I'm pretty sure the ground is shifting under my feet.

Daily Mantra:

Stupid hills will make me stronger.

Finish Hard

So this happened over a week ago but I have been so crazy busy that I'm just now getting around to posting stuff. We had our monthly DRC club run on July 3rd. It had been raining off and on for days so the temperature wasn't miserable. It was still awful but at no point did I want to die like I did last time. So that was good.

Grant and his friend, Dalton, ran in the fun run after our race. It was so cute. Grant was so excited. I actually had to take him to buy new "running" shoes for his big day. The last stretch of the race Jeff yelled "Finish Hard!" and Grant took off! Again, so cute.


Thursday, July 1, 2010

Quote of the Week

I had 1051 emails in my inbox. Crazy. They weren't all unread but still its ridiculous. So I was cleaning out my inbox this morning at work (yes, I was doing this instead of actually working) and I came across a series of emails between my cousins and I regarding running. I read this sentence and thought "Yep. That's totally my quote of the week." Love it.

I wish that Sunday was not the standard race day! Sunday is a day of rest! Not pain and torture...
Kelly Lawson