Let me start with a confession: I've fallen off the wagon...hard. A combination of work, personal health, and the holidays have conspired to keep me from working out in any significant way. Yesterday Katie and I made a commitment that will get me back on track. More on that later.
I want to spend most of this post praising my better half. No, not my left side, but my wife, Katie. After the City of Oaks run in November Katie decided to run her first 5K on Thanksgiving morning. The first few runs we went on together went OK but they usually ended in me trying my best to be a good coach and failing miserably. There are some things a husband just shouldn't do and I have found one of them. So Katie trained on her own and with her personal trainer and I helped by coming up with a training program she could follow leading up to the Gobbler Run in Wake Forest Thanksgiving Day.
If you live in North Carolina or anywhere along the Eastern seaboard you know how cold this fall has been. As I type this, ice and snow blanket the roads and the local schools are closed. We are five or six days away from the official start of winter but the frozen waterfall outside the Y says it's here. Thanksgiving morning was no warmer and if there's anything that Katie hates more than running with me its being cold. Seeing friends, pre-race nerves and a bevy of dogs helped to keep our minds off the freezing temperatures.
After the lackluster white dove release and the delayed start time (there were close to 2,000 people at the race!) we jogged across the starting line and up the first hill. I won't go into too much detail about the race but I have to say that a super-optimistic person wrote the course description:
The course is mostly flat, looping through the historic residential and business districts.
While the latter half is true I would not describe the route as "mostly flat." Despite the difference in expectations Katie ran well and at a faster pace than anticipated. She finished with a very respectable time and I was and am very proud of her.
I think the most important part though is that she wasn't content with her time and she saw room for improvement. Which leads me to the new commitment that we've made and why I'll soon be back on the pavement.
Katie and I are committed to running the Raleigh Rocks Half Marathon on April 10, 2011. We will be running in memory of Katie's grandmother, Jan Dolfi, who we lost to cancer in August of this year. We'll be raising money for cancer research as we train so look for information about that in the coming weeks and months.
It feels good to be working towards something again and it feels even better knowing a beautiful woman will be running beside me this time.
Merry Christmas everyone.
Ryan
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Happy Thanksgiving!
Believe it or not I haven't been running since last Sunday. I'm getting restless and my breathing's about back to normal so I think it's time to get out on the road. I jumped into X Train today and fared well though I could tell I'd been off for two weeks.
Now I'm looking for a pair of shoes. I'm incredibly overdue for a new pair but I'm having a hard time deciding. Any input from the peanut gallery would be welcome, as long as it's helpful.
Not sure if another post will come before Thursday so I hope you all have a Happy Thanksgiving. Katie and I are running a 5K Thursday morning and I'm looking forward to running with her.
Until then...
Ryan
Now I'm looking for a pair of shoes. I'm incredibly overdue for a new pair but I'm having a hard time deciding. Any input from the peanut gallery would be welcome, as long as it's helpful.
Not sure if another post will come before Thursday so I hope you all have a Happy Thanksgiving. Katie and I are running a 5K Thursday morning and I'm looking forward to running with her.
Until then...
Ryan
Monday, November 15, 2010
No Running at the State Fair
Apparently this never got posted. Enjoy!
Day 55: 5 miles.
Yesterday and today I felt the first twinges of my body saying "Hey. We need to talk about this running thing." I'm not sure if 5 miles of running or 5 miles of walking at the State Fair are to blame.
I love the Fair. The smells, lights, sounds and people combine to create something that I've yet to find anywhere else. My fair traditions, through the years:
Now my wife and I go after sunset when the lights are especially bright and the crowd is decidedly younger. I still insist upon seeing cows and seeing the silversmith at the Village of Yesteryear (who happens to be a family friend) but the real focus of our efforts and where most, if not all, of our money goes is the food.
We have our favorites, our just-can't-leave-without's: Al's Fries, NC State Howling Cow ice cream, italian sausage with peppers and onions. Every year we try to add something that's new. One year we braved the fried candy bar and discovered it wasn't nearly as scary as the name suggested. Last year we searched high and low for chocolate covered bacon but couldn't find it. This year we found it with a little help from the NC State Fair app (there truly is an app for everything). Believe it or not, Katie wanted the chocolate covered bacon more than I did. Unfortunately for her it didn't rise to the expectations. I thought it was good enough to finish so I did.
Another great find this year was the Gobblin' Gourmet. Funnel cakes like you've never heard or seen and my wife chooses the plain old regular funnel cake. Take note because I think this might be the first time she's ever turned down the chance to eat something called "Chocolate Obsession. A big bonus at this stand was discovering its owners and operators are Robin Smith and Adrian West, long time friends and supporters of Camp Kanata. A pleasant surprise to say the least!
Did I mention I ran 5 miles yesterday? We all need our releases and moments of indulgence.
Ryan
Day 55: 5 miles.
Yesterday and today I felt the first twinges of my body saying "Hey. We need to talk about this running thing." I'm not sure if 5 miles of running or 5 miles of walking at the State Fair are to blame.
I love the Fair. The smells, lights, sounds and people combine to create something that I've yet to find anywhere else. My fair traditions, through the years:
- Walking through the livestock buildings
- The Village of Yesteryear
- Walking the midway
- Watching the fireworks.
- Visiting the creepy-yet-awe-inspiring animatronic Smokey the Bear
- Lumberjack competitions
- Games and rides
- Food
Now my wife and I go after sunset when the lights are especially bright and the crowd is decidedly younger. I still insist upon seeing cows and seeing the silversmith at the Village of Yesteryear (who happens to be a family friend) but the real focus of our efforts and where most, if not all, of our money goes is the food.
We have our favorites, our just-can't-leave-without's: Al's Fries, NC State Howling Cow ice cream, italian sausage with peppers and onions. Every year we try to add something that's new. One year we braved the fried candy bar and discovered it wasn't nearly as scary as the name suggested. Last year we searched high and low for chocolate covered bacon but couldn't find it. This year we found it with a little help from the NC State Fair app (there truly is an app for everything). Believe it or not, Katie wanted the chocolate covered bacon more than I did. Unfortunately for her it didn't rise to the expectations. I thought it was good enough to finish so I did.
Another great find this year was the Gobblin' Gourmet. Funnel cakes like you've never heard or seen and my wife chooses the plain old regular funnel cake. Take note because I think this might be the first time she's ever turned down the chance to eat something called "Chocolate Obsession. A big bonus at this stand was discovering its owners and operators are Robin Smith and Adrian West, long time friends and supporters of Camp Kanata. A pleasant surprise to say the least!
Did I mention I ran 5 miles yesterday? We all need our releases and moments of indulgence.
Ryan
The road goes ever on and on...
Day 78: 1 mile.
Day 79: 1 mile.
Day 80: 2 miles.
Day 81: 1 mile.
It's getting colder outside and our house is starting to smell of winter. Warm air pours out of the vents with the faint hint of smoke from dust collected since spring. The smell of food seems to hang around longer as light dishes turn to heavier fare for the longer nights. The sky is a pale grey today and it feels cold despite the fact that I have not ventured outside.
For almost three months I've run at least a mile every day. I started this whole endeavor in order to break out of a rut I feared would ruin me and it worked. Each mile showed me I could change, that the path ahead of me would be what I made of it and it need not make me. I've driven my wife crazy, been through mud, rain and a half marathon in the last 3 months and I would change not a thing. But, even wonderful things must shift and transform as time marches on.
I haven't ventured outside today because I feel like crap. My body aches, my throat is scratchy, my head and chest are congested and I spent most of last night in a tossing, turning, semi-sleep in which the Independent Weekly was somehow involved in an elaborate plan to alleviate my symptoms through a series of safe-houses and helpful families. Believe me, it doesn't make any more sense to me than it does to you.
So, in answer to all the people who inquired "What do you do if you're sick?" when I started this streak, I now have the answer. I end it. I've brought up the idea of running a quick mile two or three times today and this is the conversation which transpires:
Me: I think I can run a mile today.
Body: [incredulously] Really?
Me: Yeah, I think so. I'm feeling much better and the fresh air would feel good.
Body: OK. If you want to spend another feverish night with dreams where you're Richard Nixon in 1970s Chile eating pork and avocado sandwhiches that's a great idea.
Me: ...That's what might happen?
Body: Yes. That or you'll think your pillow is a giant rancid marshmallow and you'll eat it with salt and vinegar.
Me: OK, no mile today.
So the streak comes to an end. I don't intend to quit running or writing but the overall impetus for both will shift. I think it's time. With winter in the air it's time to make some changes of my own. I plan to start training for my second half marathon in January and another mud run seems to be in the cards as well. The drive, motivation and spirit remain the same, the vehicle, the process must change.
"The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began." -J.R.R. Tolkein
Ryan
Day 79: 1 mile.
Day 80: 2 miles.
Day 81: 1 mile.
It's getting colder outside and our house is starting to smell of winter. Warm air pours out of the vents with the faint hint of smoke from dust collected since spring. The smell of food seems to hang around longer as light dishes turn to heavier fare for the longer nights. The sky is a pale grey today and it feels cold despite the fact that I have not ventured outside.
For almost three months I've run at least a mile every day. I started this whole endeavor in order to break out of a rut I feared would ruin me and it worked. Each mile showed me I could change, that the path ahead of me would be what I made of it and it need not make me. I've driven my wife crazy, been through mud, rain and a half marathon in the last 3 months and I would change not a thing. But, even wonderful things must shift and transform as time marches on.
I haven't ventured outside today because I feel like crap. My body aches, my throat is scratchy, my head and chest are congested and I spent most of last night in a tossing, turning, semi-sleep in which the Independent Weekly was somehow involved in an elaborate plan to alleviate my symptoms through a series of safe-houses and helpful families. Believe me, it doesn't make any more sense to me than it does to you.
So, in answer to all the people who inquired "What do you do if you're sick?" when I started this streak, I now have the answer. I end it. I've brought up the idea of running a quick mile two or three times today and this is the conversation which transpires:
Me: I think I can run a mile today.
Body: [incredulously] Really?
Me: Yeah, I think so. I'm feeling much better and the fresh air would feel good.
Body: OK. If you want to spend another feverish night with dreams where you're Richard Nixon in 1970s Chile eating pork and avocado sandwhiches that's a great idea.
Me: ...That's what might happen?
Body: Yes. That or you'll think your pillow is a giant rancid marshmallow and you'll eat it with salt and vinegar.
Me: OK, no mile today.
So the streak comes to an end. I don't intend to quit running or writing but the overall impetus for both will shift. I think it's time. With winter in the air it's time to make some changes of my own. I plan to start training for my second half marathon in January and another mud run seems to be in the cards as well. The drive, motivation and spirit remain the same, the vehicle, the process must change.
"The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began." -J.R.R. Tolkein
Ryan
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Red and Yellow, Black and White...Jesus Loves the Runners of the World
Day 76: 1 mile.
Day 77: 3.5 miles.
Getting out the front door and heading out for a run without regard to time or distance was amazing. I loved training for a half marathon but I missed the freedom of running for its own sake. Yesterday was a return to that freedom and it felt good.
I wish I'd had a camera during the half marathon last weekend. The sights around downtown Raleigh were great but the people around me were even more interesting. A collection of 3,200 people will inevitably include some crazies and the City of Oaks was no exception. What struck me most in the first two miles was the diversity of the collected crowd. Senior citizens and high school students. Men and women. Every ethnicity and race. All levels of physical fitness. I'd always considered the marathon crowd to be incredibly fit and zealously serious. Instead I encountered a group more akin to one I'd see at the mall or at the movies.
The mass of humanity at the start of the race made me take another look at this sport I've jumped into. I grew up playing tee-ball and soccer and I never excelled in either. Tee-ball exists because of kids like me: slow, uncoordinated, severely lacking in motivation. Despite the tailored fit of the sport I still managed to whiff the stationary ball. Though I grew up and gained some coordination and competitive spirit, I struggled to find the drive to practice and improve my skills outside of practice. Soccer was fun but it didn't make me want to change my habits. Running held a different appeal. No fancy equipment needed other than a pair of shoes. Roads, sidewalks and trails weave through the landscape to the point where we no longer see them. No balls, bats or goals to worry about. No one yelling "USE YOUR CHEST!" during a run.
I'm hard pressed to think of a more egalitarian sport. Anyone can play, all you have to do is start. Hell people aren't even using shoes anymore. You can wear what you want, sing to yourself along the way, swing your feet out at odd angles, huff and puff yourself up a hill and all that matters is that you're moving forward. There can and will be pain and even some disappointment along the way but that happens even when you're standing still.
As I'm writing this I'm hearing a part of me--the cynical, grumpy-old-man part--screaming "This is so cliche! So cloying! Can't you think of anything original to say? This is drivel." I have to admit he's right. I could poke fun at the ridiculous outfits and insane rituals people go through for the sport. I could lament the watering down of competition and rail against the "everyone gets a medal" mentality.
There are, however, thousands of others doing just that. I'd rather lift up the hopeful aspects of something I've come to enjoy and love rather than break it down with the feeble hope that someone cares about my thoughts. So I'll keep running and I look forward to seeing every aspect of humanity on display in the miles to come.
Ryan
Day 77: 3.5 miles.
Getting out the front door and heading out for a run without regard to time or distance was amazing. I loved training for a half marathon but I missed the freedom of running for its own sake. Yesterday was a return to that freedom and it felt good.
I wish I'd had a camera during the half marathon last weekend. The sights around downtown Raleigh were great but the people around me were even more interesting. A collection of 3,200 people will inevitably include some crazies and the City of Oaks was no exception. What struck me most in the first two miles was the diversity of the collected crowd. Senior citizens and high school students. Men and women. Every ethnicity and race. All levels of physical fitness. I'd always considered the marathon crowd to be incredibly fit and zealously serious. Instead I encountered a group more akin to one I'd see at the mall or at the movies.
The mass of humanity at the start of the race made me take another look at this sport I've jumped into. I grew up playing tee-ball and soccer and I never excelled in either. Tee-ball exists because of kids like me: slow, uncoordinated, severely lacking in motivation. Despite the tailored fit of the sport I still managed to whiff the stationary ball. Though I grew up and gained some coordination and competitive spirit, I struggled to find the drive to practice and improve my skills outside of practice. Soccer was fun but it didn't make me want to change my habits. Running held a different appeal. No fancy equipment needed other than a pair of shoes. Roads, sidewalks and trails weave through the landscape to the point where we no longer see them. No balls, bats or goals to worry about. No one yelling "USE YOUR CHEST!" during a run.
I'm hard pressed to think of a more egalitarian sport. Anyone can play, all you have to do is start. Hell people aren't even using shoes anymore. You can wear what you want, sing to yourself along the way, swing your feet out at odd angles, huff and puff yourself up a hill and all that matters is that you're moving forward. There can and will be pain and even some disappointment along the way but that happens even when you're standing still.
As I'm writing this I'm hearing a part of me--the cynical, grumpy-old-man part--screaming "This is so cliche! So cloying! Can't you think of anything original to say? This is drivel." I have to admit he's right. I could poke fun at the ridiculous outfits and insane rituals people go through for the sport. I could lament the watering down of competition and rail against the "everyone gets a medal" mentality.
There are, however, thousands of others doing just that. I'd rather lift up the hopeful aspects of something I've come to enjoy and love rather than break it down with the feeble hope that someone cares about my thoughts. So I'll keep running and I look forward to seeing every aspect of humanity on display in the miles to come.
Ryan
Monday, November 8, 2010
First Half Marathon: Complete.
Day 72: 1 mile.
Day 73: 1 mile.
Day 74: 13.1 miles. Time: 1:56:47. Pace: 8:55.
Day 75: 1 mile.
Short but sweet today. I finished and with a much better time than anticipated. Couldn't be happier and I'm very thankful for Katie, my mom and my dad who made it that much easier.
Big shout out to all the Go To Hell Mel team members that ran and cheered as well. I've written about Ted's story before and I was so thankful to be a part of such an awesome group. Please consider donating to the Melanoma Research Foundation after you check out the story.
I want to write in detail about my experience but it's going to take some time. Seems to be something I (and everyone else) lack these days.
'Til then.
Ryan
Day 73: 1 mile.
Day 74: 13.1 miles. Time: 1:56:47. Pace: 8:55.
Day 75: 1 mile.
Big shout out to all the Go To Hell Mel team members that ran and cheered as well. I've written about Ted's story before and I was so thankful to be a part of such an awesome group. Please consider donating to the Melanoma Research Foundation after you check out the story.
I want to write in detail about my experience but it's going to take some time. Seems to be something I (and everyone else) lack these days.
'Til then.
Ryan
Friday, November 5, 2010
The Final Countdown
Day 62: 5 miles.
Day 63: 3 miles.
Day 64: 5 miles.
Day 65: 1 mile.
Day 66: 1 mile.
Day 67: 10 miles.
Day 68: 1 mile.
Day 69: 1 mile. Gave blood.
Day 70: 3 miles.
Day 71: 2 miles.
Clearly I've been gone from this for some time. Life caught up to Katie and me and we've been keeping our heads down while we get things where they need to be. The house was a mess, report cards needed to be written and I built a bookshelf out of wood I salvaged from Camp Kanata. While I love writing and I like keeping everyone informed via this blog, other things took precedence.
At 7AM Sunday morning I'll take off for 13.1 miles of pure joy, adrenaline and, some would say, stupidity. I'm hoping the forecast temperature of 33 degrees is of by 10 or 15 but I'm going to be out there with a smile on my face and butterflies in my stomach regardless. One mile today, one mile Saturday and I'll be good to go.
After Sunday I'm hoping to get back to a more regular schedule of updates. As I said before, I've got some thoughts bouncing around and I need to get them out of my head before something gets broken.
And now, cue the music...
Ryan
Day 63: 3 miles.
Day 64: 5 miles.
Day 65: 1 mile.
Day 66: 1 mile.
Day 67: 10 miles.
Day 68: 1 mile.
Day 69: 1 mile. Gave blood.
Day 70: 3 miles.
Day 71: 2 miles.
Clearly I've been gone from this for some time. Life caught up to Katie and me and we've been keeping our heads down while we get things where they need to be. The house was a mess, report cards needed to be written and I built a bookshelf out of wood I salvaged from Camp Kanata. While I love writing and I like keeping everyone informed via this blog, other things took precedence.
At 7AM Sunday morning I'll take off for 13.1 miles of pure joy, adrenaline and, some would say, stupidity. I'm hoping the forecast temperature of 33 degrees is of by 10 or 15 but I'm going to be out there with a smile on my face and butterflies in my stomach regardless. One mile today, one mile Saturday and I'll be good to go.
After Sunday I'm hoping to get back to a more regular schedule of updates. As I said before, I've got some thoughts bouncing around and I need to get them out of my head before something gets broken.
And now, cue the music...
Ryan
Monday, October 25, 2010
Hot and Cold, North and South
Day 55: 5 miles.
Day 56: 1 mile. X-Train.
Day 57: 5 miles.
Day 58: 1 mile.
Day 59: 1 mile.
Day 60: 9 miles.
Day 61: 1 mile.
My body hurts. That's been the theme of the last week and a half. My back was sore from a X-Train workout with Howard, my left achilles was sore last week and yesterday my left knee and right hip started aching around mile seven and a half. I've backed off as much as possible without sacrificing my training and I'm hoping that the next two and a half weeks pass without incident or injury. I keep telling my legs and feet that they will get a break after November 7th.
We talk a lot about We ask a lot of questions about communities at the Y: how do we build them, how do we strengthen them, who belongs to them? Over the last two or three weeks I've started to notice the community of other runners and walkers moving around the same streets and sidewalks I pound down every day. Some are out with dogs, some with friends and some are much faster than me and lighter on their feet. The latter group tends to scare the crap out of me when they pass. If I turned my music down I might here them coming but I think they like frightening me.
By calling this group of people a community I'm doing a disservice to true running communities out there--those who run and train together and get to know about families and pets and likes and dislikes, hopes, dreams and all that. But even a tenuous community of like-minded people can be good support.
For example: I was in Boston a few weekends ago and I went for a run around the Charles River near our friends' apartment. I passed no less than 20 other runners, walkers and dog walkers and not a single one waved to me, said hello or even smiled. Normally I would have done any one, if not all, of these gestures but, after little to no reaction from each passing face, I decided to do as a local and I ignored every other human unless I was passing them. Now, those of you born and raised in the South are automatically saying, out loud, right at your computer screens "Stupid, inconsiderate, unfriendly Northerners," and you may be right. My wonderful, beautiful bride hails from Connecticut and I was raised by Yankees so I'm partial to people who come from above the Mason-Dixon line. But I think the cool reception I got on my run was due to the fact that over 600,000 people live in Boston and about 100,000 of them run along the Charles River on a regular basis. That's hardly fertile ground for a community feel to grow.
Back in Raleigh, in a neighborhood infintely smaller than most in Boston, Seeing people out on a greenway trail or on the same piece of sidewalk is cause for greeting, small though it may be. And yes, there's something to be said for Southern charm and hospitality which I would give even more credence if I believed that the majority of people living in our neighborhood were NOT born in northern latitudes.
And these smiles, nods, waves and "hello"s make it easier to run 9 miles when my knee hurts, my feet are blistering, and I could use some water.
I'm rambling. Do you say hello to strangers on the street? Do you smile at people just because they're near you? Why not?
Ryan
Day 56: 1 mile. X-Train.
Day 57: 5 miles.
Day 58: 1 mile.
Day 59: 1 mile.
Day 60: 9 miles.
Day 61: 1 mile.
My body hurts. That's been the theme of the last week and a half. My back was sore from a X-Train workout with Howard, my left achilles was sore last week and yesterday my left knee and right hip started aching around mile seven and a half. I've backed off as much as possible without sacrificing my training and I'm hoping that the next two and a half weeks pass without incident or injury. I keep telling my legs and feet that they will get a break after November 7th.
By calling this group of people a community I'm doing a disservice to true running communities out there--those who run and train together and get to know about families and pets and likes and dislikes, hopes, dreams and all that. But even a tenuous community of like-minded people can be good support.
For example: I was in Boston a few weekends ago and I went for a run around the Charles River near our friends' apartment. I passed no less than 20 other runners, walkers and dog walkers and not a single one waved to me, said hello or even smiled. Normally I would have done any one, if not all, of these gestures but, after little to no reaction from each passing face, I decided to do as a local and I ignored every other human unless I was passing them. Now, those of you born and raised in the South are automatically saying, out loud, right at your computer screens "Stupid, inconsiderate, unfriendly Northerners," and you may be right. My wonderful, beautiful bride hails from Connecticut and I was raised by Yankees so I'm partial to people who come from above the Mason-Dixon line. But I think the cool reception I got on my run was due to the fact that over 600,000 people live in Boston and about 100,000 of them run along the Charles River on a regular basis. That's hardly fertile ground for a community feel to grow.
Back in Raleigh, in a neighborhood infintely smaller than most in Boston, Seeing people out on a greenway trail or on the same piece of sidewalk is cause for greeting, small though it may be. And yes, there's something to be said for Southern charm and hospitality which I would give even more credence if I believed that the majority of people living in our neighborhood were NOT born in northern latitudes.
And these smiles, nods, waves and "hello"s make it easier to run 9 miles when my knee hurts, my feet are blistering, and I could use some water.
I'm rambling. Do you say hello to strangers on the street? Do you smile at people just because they're near you? Why not?
Ryan
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
More Than Expected
Day 47: 1 mile.
Day 48: 3 miles.
Day 49: 4 miles.
Day 50: 2 miles.
Day 51: 9 miles and some change.
Day 52: 1.5 miles in Boston.
Day 53: 1 mile.
Day 54: 1 mile.
Pay attention to Day 51. I was scheduled to run 8 miles last week in my gradual ramp-up to the half marathon. In order to stave off boredom I picked a different loop that, if anything, would land me shorter than 8 miles at the end. My calves and hip flexors were groaning towards the end as I got closer to home. I chalked it up to dehydration and poor nutrition and sucked it up for the last little bit.
Out of curiosity I mapped my new route online when I got home. Apparently my shorter route was really a good deal longer and I ran closer to 10 miles than 8. That would explain the unhappy muscles.
Not a great deal of insight to share. I ran a short loop around the Charles River in Boston this weekend which was very pretty despite the cold wind. The arrival of fall turns my thoughts to pumpkins and turkeys and, when the time is right, Christmas trees and wreaths galore.
So that's enough for today. When life calms down (HA) I'll write more about my deep thoughts.
Ryan
Day 48: 3 miles.
Day 49: 4 miles.
Day 50: 2 miles.
Day 51: 9 miles and some change.
Day 52: 1.5 miles in Boston.
Day 53: 1 mile.
Day 54: 1 mile.
Pay attention to Day 51. I was scheduled to run 8 miles last week in my gradual ramp-up to the half marathon. In order to stave off boredom I picked a different loop that, if anything, would land me shorter than 8 miles at the end. My calves and hip flexors were groaning towards the end as I got closer to home. I chalked it up to dehydration and poor nutrition and sucked it up for the last little bit.
Out of curiosity I mapped my new route online when I got home. Apparently my shorter route was really a good deal longer and I ran closer to 10 miles than 8. That would explain the unhappy muscles.
Not a great deal of insight to share. I ran a short loop around the Charles River in Boston this weekend which was very pretty despite the cold wind. The arrival of fall turns my thoughts to pumpkins and turkeys and, when the time is right, Christmas trees and wreaths galore.
So that's enough for today. When life calms down (HA) I'll write more about my deep thoughts.
Ryan
Monday, October 11, 2010
Shorter Days
Day 41: 4.5 miles.
Day 42: 3 miles.
Day 43: 3 miles.
Day 44: 1 mile.
Day 45: 1 mile.
Day 46: 1 mile.
I missed my long run this weekend. My beautiful bride and I took a trip to the mountains for our first anniversary and I decided to spend time with her rather than on my own, on the road. I may pay for it later but a healthy marriage is just as important to me as a healthy body and a decent half marathon time. As I said before, I couldn't do this without her so there's no sense in ruining my main base of support.
On the bright side, I am finding the longer distances to be troublesome in the length of time required rather than the energy cost. I am confident that I can run 8 miles. I'm just struggling to fit it into a schedule that seems to get busier as the hours of sunlight shorten.
Unfortunately writing also takes a back seat as I try to spread the wealth. I've got some thoughts percolating about music so look for a post in the near future when I get some time. I've rediscovered quite a bit through my headphones over the past few weeks.
Happy Columbus Day.
Ryan
Day 42: 3 miles.
Day 43: 3 miles.
Day 44: 1 mile.
Day 45: 1 mile.
Day 46: 1 mile.
I missed my long run this weekend. My beautiful bride and I took a trip to the mountains for our first anniversary and I decided to spend time with her rather than on my own, on the road. I may pay for it later but a healthy marriage is just as important to me as a healthy body and a decent half marathon time. As I said before, I couldn't do this without her so there's no sense in ruining my main base of support.
On the bright side, I am finding the longer distances to be troublesome in the length of time required rather than the energy cost. I am confident that I can run 8 miles. I'm just struggling to fit it into a schedule that seems to get busier as the hours of sunlight shorten.
Unfortunately writing also takes a back seat as I try to spread the wealth. I've got some thoughts percolating about music so look for a post in the near future when I get some time. I've rediscovered quite a bit through my headphones over the past few weeks.
Happy Columbus Day.
Ryan
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Things are about to get difficult...
Day 37: 1 mile.
Day 38: 1 mile.
Day 39: 7 miles.
Day 40: 1 mile.
It seems that the closer I get to running my first half-marathon the busier I become. Today calls for 4.5 miles and I'm not sure when I'll be able to get it in. The weather is beautiful but I'm going to have to settle for running inside. This weekend Katie and I will celebrate our first year of marriage up in the mountains and I'll be running 8 miles at some point. It's not the running I'm concerned with, it's the schedule.
Even as I write this a part of my brain screams at me: "THESE ARE NOT REAL PROBLEMS YOU DOOF! People are homeless, jobless and overweight and you're complaining that you can't find the time to run!" I appreciate the brutual honesty of this voice but I wish it was a bit quieter when it goes off.
But that voice is right. Every day I pass people on the side of the road asking for help and I'm sure I pass by hundreds more that need help but won't ask. This is especially on my mind as our WeBuildPeople campaign gets started this year. My team has a goal of sending 55 kids to summer camp this year. We need 55 people to donate $200 each and 55 kids' lives will change. Seems simple enough and it is, as long as we share the story loud enough so that others can hear it.
So for now the voice quiets down. Tomorrow morning it will have the same rant. I'm not naive enough to think that someday that voice will cease to exist because I've become so pious, but I do hope that I can work to quiet it down with every passing day, week, month and year.
What does your voice yell at you?
Ryan
Day 38: 1 mile.
Day 39: 7 miles.
Day 40: 1 mile.
It seems that the closer I get to running my first half-marathon the busier I become. Today calls for 4.5 miles and I'm not sure when I'll be able to get it in. The weather is beautiful but I'm going to have to settle for running inside. This weekend Katie and I will celebrate our first year of marriage up in the mountains and I'll be running 8 miles at some point. It's not the running I'm concerned with, it's the schedule.
Even as I write this a part of my brain screams at me: "THESE ARE NOT REAL PROBLEMS YOU DOOF! People are homeless, jobless and overweight and you're complaining that you can't find the time to run!" I appreciate the brutual honesty of this voice but I wish it was a bit quieter when it goes off.
But that voice is right. Every day I pass people on the side of the road asking for help and I'm sure I pass by hundreds more that need help but won't ask. This is especially on my mind as our WeBuildPeople campaign gets started this year. My team has a goal of sending 55 kids to summer camp this year. We need 55 people to donate $200 each and 55 kids' lives will change. Seems simple enough and it is, as long as we share the story loud enough so that others can hear it.
So for now the voice quiets down. Tomorrow morning it will have the same rant. I'm not naive enough to think that someday that voice will cease to exist because I've become so pious, but I do hope that I can work to quiet it down with every passing day, week, month and year.
What does your voice yell at you?
Ryan
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Return to the Rain
Day 32: More than 1 mile, less than 2.
Day 33: 1 mile. X Train.
Day 34: 3.59 miles.
Day 35: 3.6 miles.
Day 36: 4.5 miles.
It's been a busy week so writing took a back seat to more important things.
On Sunday, after we returned from South Carolina, I headed out for a quick run to get my mile in for the day. After sitting in the car for almost four hours it was nice to get out and move. We drove through some nasty downpours and I half expected to see a tornado in the distance on I-95 in eastern North Carolina. Back at home it was just cloudy and the two-tone asphalt suggested the rain had come and gone.
As I jogged past the Food Lion and the McDonald's I felt good. My legs were strong even after putting them through the mud the day before and the grey skies were keeping things cool. When I made my turn to come home I saw the sky getting darker and the first hints of thunder rumbling in the distance. Small pinpricks of cooler water started to hit my arms, legs and face and I picked up the pace a bit. I wasn't looking forward to a drenching and dodging lightning bolts wasn't the agility exercise I was looking for. I could be home before the worst.
It was the smell of the air, the rain on my bare skin, the color of the sky and the wind picking up that brought me back almost 25 years to a bicycle ride with my Dad.
I am not quite two years old. I'm buckled into the canary yellow molded plastic kiddie seat bolted onto the back of my Dad's bike. Mom is pregnant with my little brother so she's at home. It's just me, my Dad, the trees and the sky. There's a slight breeze as we float through the neighborhood. The bike's gears creak and grind a bit as we climb a hill headed out to the sleepy country roads that ring our neighborhood. The air is cool and leaves rustle in the trees and along the sides of the road. I fall asleep, lulled by the rhythm of the bike: side to side to side to side, slower now on the straights, quicker on the hills.
I wake up to darker skies and noises I am not used to. Great rumbles, booms and searing cracks. Lights flash and light up the sky as water falls onto my face. My Dad's back, all I can see other than the sky, shows spot after spot turning into larger blobs and then his shirt is just darker. His hair looks like it does at the pool or when he gets out of the shower. My canary yellow seat smells different now that it's wet. The nylon straps are cold with held water. I am not scared. I am not worried. I take in every drop and every lightning bolt and every thunder clap in awe. No tears, no crying, just wonder at the world that seems so angry.
I have no idea how far we are from home. At some point we glide down the driveway and into the garage. There's calm but hurried unbuckling and before I know it a wall of warmer air hits me as we walk in the door and straight into the bathroom downstairs. Mom gets towels and they wrap me up after stripping my sopping wet clothes off. I am not afraid, I am not scared, I would just like to be dry and warm please. Mom and Dad follow the towels with a hairdryer on the low setting. The bathroom is tiny and it has a door that slides in and out of the wall. The air is warm and thick with evaporating rain but we are there together and I am warm and dry. The drone of the hairdryer continues on and Mom and Dad's voices are hushed and I fall asleep in the towels, in their arms.
Looking back at this, my earliest memory, I am hard pressed to think of another time when I felt so safe.
Ryan
Day 33: 1 mile. X Train.
Day 34: 3.59 miles.
Day 35: 3.6 miles.
Day 36: 4.5 miles.
It's been a busy week so writing took a back seat to more important things.
On Sunday, after we returned from South Carolina, I headed out for a quick run to get my mile in for the day. After sitting in the car for almost four hours it was nice to get out and move. We drove through some nasty downpours and I half expected to see a tornado in the distance on I-95 in eastern North Carolina. Back at home it was just cloudy and the two-tone asphalt suggested the rain had come and gone.
As I jogged past the Food Lion and the McDonald's I felt good. My legs were strong even after putting them through the mud the day before and the grey skies were keeping things cool. When I made my turn to come home I saw the sky getting darker and the first hints of thunder rumbling in the distance. Small pinpricks of cooler water started to hit my arms, legs and face and I picked up the pace a bit. I wasn't looking forward to a drenching and dodging lightning bolts wasn't the agility exercise I was looking for. I could be home before the worst.
It was the smell of the air, the rain on my bare skin, the color of the sky and the wind picking up that brought me back almost 25 years to a bicycle ride with my Dad.
I am not quite two years old. I'm buckled into the canary yellow molded plastic kiddie seat bolted onto the back of my Dad's bike. Mom is pregnant with my little brother so she's at home. It's just me, my Dad, the trees and the sky. There's a slight breeze as we float through the neighborhood. The bike's gears creak and grind a bit as we climb a hill headed out to the sleepy country roads that ring our neighborhood. The air is cool and leaves rustle in the trees and along the sides of the road. I fall asleep, lulled by the rhythm of the bike: side to side to side to side, slower now on the straights, quicker on the hills.
I wake up to darker skies and noises I am not used to. Great rumbles, booms and searing cracks. Lights flash and light up the sky as water falls onto my face. My Dad's back, all I can see other than the sky, shows spot after spot turning into larger blobs and then his shirt is just darker. His hair looks like it does at the pool or when he gets out of the shower. My canary yellow seat smells different now that it's wet. The nylon straps are cold with held water. I am not scared. I am not worried. I take in every drop and every lightning bolt and every thunder clap in awe. No tears, no crying, just wonder at the world that seems so angry.
I have no idea how far we are from home. At some point we glide down the driveway and into the garage. There's calm but hurried unbuckling and before I know it a wall of warmer air hits me as we walk in the door and straight into the bathroom downstairs. Mom gets towels and they wrap me up after stripping my sopping wet clothes off. I am not afraid, I am not scared, I would just like to be dry and warm please. Mom and Dad follow the towels with a hairdryer on the low setting. The bathroom is tiny and it has a door that slides in and out of the wall. The air is warm and thick with evaporating rain but we are there together and I am warm and dry. The drone of the hairdryer continues on and Mom and Dad's voices are hushed and I fall asleep in the towels, in their arms.
Looking back at this, my earliest memory, I am hard pressed to think of another time when I felt so safe.
Ryan
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Lessons from the Mud
Day 29: 4 miles.
Day 30: 1 mile.
Day 31: 4.2 miles, 32 obstacles, mud.
My knees are scratched up and three days later I'm still finding mud in my ears and under my nails. The physical remnants of the Mud Run will eventually fade and the lasting impressions will be of laughs, triumphs and a whole lot of fun. A healthy dose of "I hope..." goes along with both the former and the latter.
Aside from some nasty traffic on the way in our day on Culler's Farm south of Columbia, SC was a success. Any grumpiness from sitting in a car, not getting lunch, or being in the hot sun faded as we crossed the starting line, headed into the woods and ran through our first muddy ditch.
I do, however, have a good group shot from the end. We don't look nearly as muddy as we felt--mainly because a giant water hole "cleaned" us off a bit-- but you can see we had a good time.
Day 30: 1 mile.
Day 31: 4.2 miles, 32 obstacles, mud.
My knees are scratched up and three days later I'm still finding mud in my ears and under my nails. The physical remnants of the Mud Run will eventually fade and the lasting impressions will be of laughs, triumphs and a whole lot of fun. A healthy dose of "I hope..." goes along with both the former and the latter.
Aside from some nasty traffic on the way in our day on Culler's Farm south of Columbia, SC was a success. Any grumpiness from sitting in a car, not getting lunch, or being in the hot sun faded as we crossed the starting line, headed into the woods and ran through our first muddy ditch.
Unfortunately it was tough to get back into the course if you weren't running so I don't have any pictures of the course to show. The Mud Run website has pictures and they may post the professional shots taken during the race.
I do, however, have a good group shot from the end. We don't look nearly as muddy as we felt--mainly because a giant water hole "cleaned" us off a bit-- but you can see we had a good time. The most memorable aspect of the run for me was the way our team chose to participate. While others were running past us and jockeying for postion at some of the more crowded obstacles, our team chose to encourage the other mud runners and regularly checked on those walking or standing to the side. I was proud to be alongside my teammates and was reminded that the Y spirit can't be contained behind the walls of our facilities. I say all this at the risk of sounding overly sentimental, cheesy and inspirational and I'm OK with that. It rings true and most of the time that's more important than worrying about a few readers gagging on their lunch.
Aside from my teammates there was another person present this weekend that truly made everything possible in a number of ways. Katie, my beautiful bride, was there to cheer us on, take pictures and make sure no one stole our stuff while we were in the mud. It was hot and there was no real way for her to watch us so she had a less-than-stellar experience. I am very grateful to her for putting up with my adventures, especially when I'm not the best planner in the world.
Even more than this weekend, Katie deserves recognition for being my champion over the last two months. Every time I doubt myself or question my decisions she's there to remind me why I began in the first place. She won't let me sell myself short even on the days I want to half-ass it or quit altogether. So, my beautiful bride, I thank you for putting up with me and, as promised, an outfit and a pedicure are most definitely due! I love you with all my heart and I wouldn't be half the man I am without you.
So, who's in for next year?
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Confucious Say...
Day 27: 4 miles.
Day 28: 2 miles.
Another 4 mile run coming up today and some strength training afterwards. Mentally preparing for the Mud Run this weekend as well. Hard to find mud around here without rain. I'll be sure to post pictures (before AND after) next week.
My 2 miles yesterday helped to break me out of a funk I've been in most of this week. Nothing serious just a general feeling that I could be doing much more with the time given to me. Part of this comes from a lull in my schedule but more so it comes from a general cycle I find myself going through every few months. Life seems to be stagnant and I crave something new, something that will give renewed meaning and purpose to my everyday thoughts and actions. I usually end up looking at graduate school programs and contemplating what might be out there for me in the world. Of course in a week this will subside and I'll be back into the lovely mess of life, loving every second of it.
In order to break out of the funk this time around I've given myself a reminder of what it takes to make a change even if it doesn't mean a sweeping revolution in how I live my life.
I'm reminded of cheesy inspirational posters and pieces of paper that moms pack in their kids' lunchboxes but I'm getting the desired effect.
This goes back to my last post about the importance of making first steps, no matter how small. So this is a rinky-dink reminder that, in order to make change and in order to do something, I have to begin.
Happy Thursday.
Ryan
Day 28: 2 miles.
Another 4 mile run coming up today and some strength training afterwards. Mentally preparing for the Mud Run this weekend as well. Hard to find mud around here without rain. I'll be sure to post pictures (before AND after) next week.
My 2 miles yesterday helped to break me out of a funk I've been in most of this week. Nothing serious just a general feeling that I could be doing much more with the time given to me. Part of this comes from a lull in my schedule but more so it comes from a general cycle I find myself going through every few months. Life seems to be stagnant and I crave something new, something that will give renewed meaning and purpose to my everyday thoughts and actions. I usually end up looking at graduate school programs and contemplating what might be out there for me in the world. Of course in a week this will subside and I'll be back into the lovely mess of life, loving every second of it.
In order to break out of the funk this time around I've given myself a reminder of what it takes to make a change even if it doesn't mean a sweeping revolution in how I live my life.This goes back to my last post about the importance of making first steps, no matter how small. So this is a rinky-dink reminder that, in order to make change and in order to do something, I have to begin.
Happy Thursday.
Ryan
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Why Not?
Day 23: 1 mile.
Day 24: 6 miles.
Day 25: 1 mile.
Day 26: 1 mile.
I'm staring a 4 mile run in the face today after a successful weekend and a great 6 mile run Saturday. I felt great after 6 miles and could have continued on for another 2 with no trouble. This bodes well for the upcoming weeks and especially for the craziness I have planned this weekend.
A few months ago I decided to join a team of fellow Y employees who were planning on completing the United States Marine Corps Mud Run in Columbia, South Carolina. For those of you unfamiliar with the race, it's about 5 miles of obstacles and, most importantly, mud. Of the two Y teams participating from our area, I am on the "complete" team--YNOT is our name-- which means that we will not be taking ourselves too seriously as we flounder through neck-deep mud and attempt to crawl through hellish obstacles. After watching the videos, I'm not so certain I trained well enough. The "compete" team from our area starts a good hour before us so they won't have the satisfaction of passing us. I can't say I'm sorry about that.
As I write this I'm beginning to see that this Mud Run was my first step towards making some changes in my habits and my personal goals. I've done 5Ks but never anything as taxing as a muddy obstacle course or a half marathon. I wish I could pinpoint the impetus for starting down this path but it's hard to nail down. No mountain-top experience that woke me up to a world waiting to be explored. Just a gradual realization that I'm capable of so much more if I say so.
So for my few readers out there, what are you putting off? What would it take to make it happen? Why not do it? Leave a comment and let me know. I'd love to talk to you about it and join you if time and money allow.
Ryan
Day 24: 6 miles.
Day 25: 1 mile.
Day 26: 1 mile.
I'm staring a 4 mile run in the face today after a successful weekend and a great 6 mile run Saturday. I felt great after 6 miles and could have continued on for another 2 with no trouble. This bodes well for the upcoming weeks and especially for the craziness I have planned this weekend.
A few months ago I decided to join a team of fellow Y employees who were planning on completing the United States Marine Corps Mud Run in Columbia, South Carolina. For those of you unfamiliar with the race, it's about 5 miles of obstacles and, most importantly, mud. Of the two Y teams participating from our area, I am on the "complete" team--YNOT is our name-- which means that we will not be taking ourselves too seriously as we flounder through neck-deep mud and attempt to crawl through hellish obstacles. After watching the videos, I'm not so certain I trained well enough. The "compete" team from our area starts a good hour before us so they won't have the satisfaction of passing us. I can't say I'm sorry about that.
As I write this I'm beginning to see that this Mud Run was my first step towards making some changes in my habits and my personal goals. I've done 5Ks but never anything as taxing as a muddy obstacle course or a half marathon. I wish I could pinpoint the impetus for starting down this path but it's hard to nail down. No mountain-top experience that woke me up to a world waiting to be explored. Just a gradual realization that I'm capable of so much more if I say so.
So for my few readers out there, what are you putting off? What would it take to make it happen? Why not do it? Leave a comment and let me know. I'd love to talk to you about it and join you if time and money allow.
Ryan
Friday, September 17, 2010
More on the Half Marathon
Day 22: 4 miles.
Running's taken on a different feel now that I'm working towards a goal. Each time out requires more of my attention than in previous runs. In order to build up my stamina I need to push myself and find longer routes. This forces me to discover new routes, which is good, but it also takes some of the freedom away from my runs. If it weren't for the purpose of the half marathon, I don't think I'd be as motivated.
As I mentioned in my previous post, a member a the Y asked me to participate. I didn't go into a great amount of detail then because I didn't have details and, quite frankly, I hadn't paid my registration fee so I was worried I might chicken out. Now that the money's in and I'm deep into training, I'll fill you in.
Ted Murphy, a member at my Y, has Stage IV melanoma (meaning it has spread around his body), and his family has started an effort to raise money to support research. You can see their website, and read their story at http://www.gotohellmel.org/. Ted and his wife Stacy will be running the half-marathon with me and I look forward to the fellowship and laughs along the way.
I couldn't post this without a simple request. If you are able, please consider donating to the nonprofit organization Melanoma Research Foundation (http://www.mrf.org/).
If you choose to give, please do the following:
1. Go to http://www.gotohellmel.org/
2. Click on the “Donate” tab at the top of the home page.
3. Follow the instructions on that page. Please do note that when you are filling out the online donation form to indicate in the “Your Comment” field that you are donating the money to support my participation in the race.
There is also a post-race fundraiser taking place on November 7th. You can get more information about the
event at GoToHellMel.org by clicking on the "Post-Event Party" tab.
Cancer is a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad disease in any form. If you're able, I hope you'll support us
as we put one foot in front of the other towards the finish line.
Thanks for reading. Email me (ryanjeves@gmail.com) if you have any questions or want to get involved!
Ryan
Running's taken on a different feel now that I'm working towards a goal. Each time out requires more of my attention than in previous runs. In order to build up my stamina I need to push myself and find longer routes. This forces me to discover new routes, which is good, but it also takes some of the freedom away from my runs. If it weren't for the purpose of the half marathon, I don't think I'd be as motivated.
As I mentioned in my previous post, a member a the Y asked me to participate. I didn't go into a great amount of detail then because I didn't have details and, quite frankly, I hadn't paid my registration fee so I was worried I might chicken out. Now that the money's in and I'm deep into training, I'll fill you in.
Ted Murphy, a member at my Y, has Stage IV melanoma (meaning it has spread around his body), and his family has started an effort to raise money to support research. You can see their website, and read their story at http://www.gotohellmel.org/. Ted and his wife Stacy will be running the half-marathon with me and I look forward to the fellowship and laughs along the way.
I couldn't post this without a simple request. If you are able, please consider donating to the nonprofit organization Melanoma Research Foundation (http://www.mrf.org/).
If you choose to give, please do the following:
1. Go to http://www.gotohellmel.org/
2. Click on the “Donate” tab at the top of the home page.
3. Follow the instructions on that page. Please do note that when you are filling out the online donation form to indicate in the “Your Comment” field that you are donating the money to support my participation in the race.
There is also a post-race fundraiser taking place on November 7th. You can get more information about the
event at GoToHellMel.org by clicking on the "Post-Event Party" tab.
Cancer is a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad disease in any form. If you're able, I hope you'll support us
as we put one foot in front of the other towards the finish line.
Thanks for reading. Email me (ryanjeves@gmail.com) if you have any questions or want to get involved!
Ryan
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Trash Day
Day 21: 2 mile hill work.
After talking to a few people who've done the City of Oaks/Rex Healthcare half marathon I realized I needed to do some hill work in preparation for November 7th. Unfortunately, it was trash day and empty garbage bins lined the road. My route may need to change next week. The hills were good but I can tell I need to work on my stamina if I'm going to complete 13.1 miles without walking, which is my goal.
My weight training and cross training routine took a back seat in the past few weeks. Now it's time to get that back in line.
Ryan
After talking to a few people who've done the City of Oaks/Rex Healthcare half marathon I realized I needed to do some hill work in preparation for November 7th. Unfortunately, it was trash day and empty garbage bins lined the road. My route may need to change next week. The hills were good but I can tell I need to work on my stamina if I'm going to complete 13.1 miles without walking, which is my goal.
My weight training and cross training routine took a back seat in the past few weeks. Now it's time to get that back in line.
Ryan
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Ryan Had a Little Lamb
Day 16: 1 mile on the treadmill.
Day 17: 4 miles.
Day 18: 4 miles with Warren.
Day 19: 1 mile.
Day 20: 4 miles on the treadmill.
Let me set the scene:
A young boy plucks away at a guitar he hasn't quite grown into. The notes seem disembodied, some free jazz musings perhaps. he pauses and with greater certainty and concentration picks out "Mary Had a Little Lamb." he arrives at the end and stops, smiles. This is the first time he's played it through without strings buzzing and wrong notes. He calls to his older brother in the other room who walks in looking annoyed. Little brother tries to explain the miracle he just experienced. Older brother sighs and calmly lets little brother know to call him when he's learned the opening riff to "Purple Haze." Older brother leaves and little brother looks defeated. After flicking his middle finger at the spot older brother just vacated, he bends the rest of his fingers around the neck of the guitar, lowers his head and begins again.
This is how I feel sometimes when I talk to people about my running streak. I'm so excited and every thing's happening for the first time and I just want people to feel the excitement, the newness. Thankfully I've not run into any killjoys like the older brother in the scene above but I still feel like I'm bothering people when I talk about my new found ambitions and goals. Compared to many of my Y members and hundreds of thousands of runners out in the world I'm still learning the simple beginner chords and melodies of running while they've been playing "Free Bird" for years.
So I guess this is an apology. Each step and stride brings me closer to the day where I will shut up and run and I won't pat myself on the back for anything less than 6 miles. Until then I'll try to tone it down if you'll try to remember what beginning feels like so you can share in the joy and freedom too. After all, who wants to hate on "Mary Had a Little Lamb?"
Day 17: 4 miles.
Day 18: 4 miles with Warren.
Day 19: 1 mile.
Day 20: 4 miles on the treadmill.
Let me set the scene:
A young boy plucks away at a guitar he hasn't quite grown into. The notes seem disembodied, some free jazz musings perhaps. he pauses and with greater certainty and concentration picks out "Mary Had a Little Lamb." he arrives at the end and stops, smiles. This is the first time he's played it through without strings buzzing and wrong notes. He calls to his older brother in the other room who walks in looking annoyed. Little brother tries to explain the miracle he just experienced. Older brother sighs and calmly lets little brother know to call him when he's learned the opening riff to "Purple Haze." Older brother leaves and little brother looks defeated. After flicking his middle finger at the spot older brother just vacated, he bends the rest of his fingers around the neck of the guitar, lowers his head and begins again.
This is how I feel sometimes when I talk to people about my running streak. I'm so excited and every thing's happening for the first time and I just want people to feel the excitement, the newness. Thankfully I've not run into any killjoys like the older brother in the scene above but I still feel like I'm bothering people when I talk about my new found ambitions and goals. Compared to many of my Y members and hundreds of thousands of runners out in the world I'm still learning the simple beginner chords and melodies of running while they've been playing "Free Bird" for years.
So I guess this is an apology. Each step and stride brings me closer to the day where I will shut up and run and I won't pat myself on the back for anything less than 6 miles. Until then I'll try to tone it down if you'll try to remember what beginning feels like so you can share in the joy and freedom too. After all, who wants to hate on "Mary Had a Little Lamb?"
Friday, September 10, 2010
New Challenges
Day 15: Just over a mile.
Every time I sit down my hamstrings and glutes scream at me. My X Train workout was harder than it appeared at first blush. Surprisingly and thankfully running is about the only thing that doesn't hurt.
When I started this streak and this blog, my goal was to challenge myself while presenting an honest portrait of the ups and downs along the way. I've enjoyed telling people about my efforts and yesterday it created an opportunity I couldn't pass up.
One of my members told me about a team he's putting together for the City of Oaks Half Marathon in Raleigh on November 7th. He could see by my face that I was hesitant but he talked me through it and reminded me of the fact that I am currently running at least one mile every day and my long run is just over four miles. It's not a stretch of the imagination for me to get to 8, 9 or 10 miles in the next few weeks. So, in short, I decided to do it and I'll be signing up this weekend. I won't be running alone and I have a good base to start from. As you might be able to tell, I'm still trying to talk myself into it to a degree.
When I told Katie, she looked at me in a way that suggested "What crazy path are you leading us down, how much money is this going to cost, and how much skinnier are you going to get?"
To my beautiful, wonderful wife, if you're reading this: I promise not to drag you anywhere you don't want to go. $85.00 this time and I promise to plan accordingly with every event I choose. I hope not much more. We can't afford to buy me all new clothes.
So who wants to run with us on November 7th?
Ryan
Every time I sit down my hamstrings and glutes scream at me. My X Train workout was harder than it appeared at first blush. Surprisingly and thankfully running is about the only thing that doesn't hurt.
When I started this streak and this blog, my goal was to challenge myself while presenting an honest portrait of the ups and downs along the way. I've enjoyed telling people about my efforts and yesterday it created an opportunity I couldn't pass up.
One of my members told me about a team he's putting together for the City of Oaks Half Marathon in Raleigh on November 7th. He could see by my face that I was hesitant but he talked me through it and reminded me of the fact that I am currently running at least one mile every day and my long run is just over four miles. It's not a stretch of the imagination for me to get to 8, 9 or 10 miles in the next few weeks. So, in short, I decided to do it and I'll be signing up this weekend. I won't be running alone and I have a good base to start from. As you might be able to tell, I'm still trying to talk myself into it to a degree.
When I told Katie, she looked at me in a way that suggested "What crazy path are you leading us down, how much money is this going to cost, and how much skinnier are you going to get?"
To my beautiful, wonderful wife, if you're reading this: I promise not to drag you anywhere you don't want to go. $85.00 this time and I promise to plan accordingly with every event I choose. I hope not much more. We can't afford to buy me all new clothes.
So who wants to run with us on November 7th?
Ryan
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Capabilities
Day 14: 3 miles on the treadmill at the Kerr Y.
I didn't think I had three miles in me today. Mondays and Wednesdays are X Train days for me which means an hour of putting my body through a series of circuits. Today's hour:
100 jump rope
20 warrior lunges with a 25 lb. plate
20 thrusters with barbell
20 burpees/push-ups
5 times through a hurdle series--Right side jumps, left side jumps, forward jumps
This all comes after a good warm-up and we all needed a longer-than-usual cool-down at the end of the hour. Howard, who teaches Wednesdays, usually includes a good amount of power lifting and squats, two things that I struggle to do at a basic level. Howard's a great coach and regularly offers advice and encouragement which makes me feel like less of a screw-up as I see the other women and men in the class work through their squats and lifts with ease. I always enter class timid and nervous about what's in store and I always leave class feeling like I accomplished something. As Howard says at the beginning of each class, his job is to make us work harder than we think we can and our job is to pace ourselves. The two ideas seem at odds with one another until the hours past and the balance of pace and push can be felt in every muscle.
So how did I manage three miles after working hard just a few hours earlier? I planned on running a quick mile to be done with it for the day. I needed to start dinner and, truthfully, I wanted to sit on the couch for a bit. But at the one mile mark my muscles felt strong so I decided to go for two. At the two mile mark it just made sense to make it three. I could have kept it up for one or two more but I ran out of time. The energy I had surprised me and reminded me of a conversation I had with Sam, a Y member, earlier today about real and perceived limits we have when it comes to running and exercise. We got to talking about marathons, triathlons and Iron Man races. While we both acknowledged the mental aspect of endurance races we were also able to acknowledge our unashamed lack of motivation for such events.
I think it's important to know my limits and to stop before I've gone too far. I credit this awareness for my lack of injury (knocking on wood furiously) in the past year as I've made changes to my lifestyle. Without it I'd surely end up with twisted ankles, pulled back muscles and an assortment of other ailments. But limits are meant to be tested and I am sure in the next year I'll find a way to put myself to the task.
Ryan
I didn't think I had three miles in me today. Mondays and Wednesdays are X Train days for me which means an hour of putting my body through a series of circuits. Today's hour:
100 jump rope
20 warrior lunges with a 25 lb. plate
20 thrusters with barbell
20 burpees/push-ups
5 times through a hurdle series--Right side jumps, left side jumps, forward jumps
This all comes after a good warm-up and we all needed a longer-than-usual cool-down at the end of the hour. Howard, who teaches Wednesdays, usually includes a good amount of power lifting and squats, two things that I struggle to do at a basic level. Howard's a great coach and regularly offers advice and encouragement which makes me feel like less of a screw-up as I see the other women and men in the class work through their squats and lifts with ease. I always enter class timid and nervous about what's in store and I always leave class feeling like I accomplished something. As Howard says at the beginning of each class, his job is to make us work harder than we think we can and our job is to pace ourselves. The two ideas seem at odds with one another until the hours past and the balance of pace and push can be felt in every muscle.
So how did I manage three miles after working hard just a few hours earlier? I planned on running a quick mile to be done with it for the day. I needed to start dinner and, truthfully, I wanted to sit on the couch for a bit. But at the one mile mark my muscles felt strong so I decided to go for two. At the two mile mark it just made sense to make it three. I could have kept it up for one or two more but I ran out of time. The energy I had surprised me and reminded me of a conversation I had with Sam, a Y member, earlier today about real and perceived limits we have when it comes to running and exercise. We got to talking about marathons, triathlons and Iron Man races. While we both acknowledged the mental aspect of endurance races we were also able to acknowledge our unashamed lack of motivation for such events.
I think it's important to know my limits and to stop before I've gone too far. I credit this awareness for my lack of injury (knocking on wood furiously) in the past year as I've made changes to my lifestyle. Without it I'd surely end up with twisted ankles, pulled back muscles and an assortment of other ailments. But limits are meant to be tested and I am sure in the next year I'll find a way to put myself to the task.
Ryan
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Time Flies
My first day at the Durham YMCAs was one year ago today. To say today is different than that day would be the understatement of the year.
What's happened to you in the last year? How are you different now than you were then?
Ryan
What's happened to you in the last year? How are you different now than you were then?
Ryan
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
The Yin and Yang of Nature Hikes and "No Reservations"
Day 10: 1 mile with Katie.
Day 11: 1 mile.
Day 12: 2 miles on a new route.
Day 13: 1 mile on the treadmill.
While the running remains consistent over weekends and on holidays you can expect the writing to slow down for mental decompression. Much as I disconnect from the iPod from time to time it's also important to disconnect from the interwebs every now and then.
The weather was near perfect this weekend in our part of the world. Hurricane Earl had me a tad bit worried but passed by with minimal effect this far inland. Left behind were beautiful blue skies and low humidity; perfect weather for being outside. Katie and I went for a hike in Umstead Park and it was good to be in the woods for a bit. I'm always amazed at the relative peace and quiet inside the park's borders despite being so close to major roads. Though the trail we took was closest to the planes coming and going from RDU I was still able to lose myself in our footfalls and the smell of the trees.
The rest of the holiday weekend was spent watching obligatory college football games, movies (Did you know Francis Ford Coppola directed Jack? I had no idea). But a new discovery topped all: “Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations” on the Travel Channel.
My Labor Day run took me on a new route. If I keep to the same sidewalks I will lose my mind and my streak all at once. Neither I nor the homeowner’s association wants that to happen, trust me. As I made unfamiliar turns and quick decisions about where to put my feet next, much like the “Choose Your Own Adventure” books I loved to hate in elementary school, my run unfolded before me. This got me thinking about the importance of discovery and how it drives me when life gets a little to stagnant.
Our hike through Umstead Park felt like discovery at first. But after a mile on the trail the trees, plants and sounds all seemed to repeat themselves as though we were on an amusement park ride and the soundtrack ran on a continuous loop. After a mile I wanted to walk away from the trail and into the untouched woods around us. I wanted to climb over the fallen trees and find a stream to follow for a bit. Instead I stayed on the trail, like the good law-abiding hiker I am, and followed the loop back to the visitor center and the car. The air was clear and it was cool under the trees but I felt little changed from before the hike began.
Watching TV hardly ever feels like discovery. I gravitate towards shows I know and enjoy, comfortable shows that act like fuzzy slippers for my eyes. Though all my favorite slippers share characteristics with “No Reservations,” I’d already formed my opinion and was hardly ready for it to change. But change it did and four or five episodes later a Wikipedia article was up on my phone. The opening line of each show drew me in: “I’m Anthony Bourdain. I write, I travel, I eat and I’m hungry for more.” Before the show even begins he’s set himself apart as a writer who happens to have a travel show on a cable network. This uncompromising and authentic attitude carries through each moment of the show as he narrates each scene and provides insight into the thoughts and feelings a camera can’t possibly portray. Bourdain may be a little rough around the edges but it’s authentic and refreshing in our “reality” culture. The foul language, smoke, and misanthropy pouring out of Bourdain’s mouth at regular intervals, along with the forgotten and discarded bits of various animals he puts in, makes him easier to relate to than any real housewife I’ve been subjected to of late. My discovery of Anthony Bourdain refilled my creative tanks and reminded me, yet again, that everything deserves a second (or third) look.
So, after a good three day weekend, going for a hike caused a piece of me to die while almost an entire day spent in front of the TV created an epiphany of minor-epic proportions. Somehow that’s fitting for a holiday dedicated to giving people a break from work. I’m sure my next discovery won’t come so easily, but at least now I’ll be better prepared to receive it.
Ryan
Day 11: 1 mile.
Day 12: 2 miles on a new route.
Day 13: 1 mile on the treadmill.
While the running remains consistent over weekends and on holidays you can expect the writing to slow down for mental decompression. Much as I disconnect from the iPod from time to time it's also important to disconnect from the interwebs every now and then.
The weather was near perfect this weekend in our part of the world. Hurricane Earl had me a tad bit worried but passed by with minimal effect this far inland. Left behind were beautiful blue skies and low humidity; perfect weather for being outside. Katie and I went for a hike in Umstead Park and it was good to be in the woods for a bit. I'm always amazed at the relative peace and quiet inside the park's borders despite being so close to major roads. Though the trail we took was closest to the planes coming and going from RDU I was still able to lose myself in our footfalls and the smell of the trees.
The rest of the holiday weekend was spent watching obligatory college football games, movies (Did you know Francis Ford Coppola directed Jack? I had no idea). But a new discovery topped all: “Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations” on the Travel Channel.
My wife will tell you that I love weird and cerebral TV shows so it seems a bit strange that I’ve missed this show over the last 5 years. However, fifteen minutes into the first full episode I remembered why I always skipped it: frequent dining on meats and parts of animals you don’t usual see at the grocery store. Even a cursory perusal of the “No Reservations” website and turns up pictures of things I’d never think of eating. The foods, however, are idiosyncratic footnotes to the illuminating interactions with people and cultures that make watching the show worthwhile.
My Labor Day run took me on a new route. If I keep to the same sidewalks I will lose my mind and my streak all at once. Neither I nor the homeowner’s association wants that to happen, trust me. As I made unfamiliar turns and quick decisions about where to put my feet next, much like the “Choose Your Own Adventure” books I loved to hate in elementary school, my run unfolded before me. This got me thinking about the importance of discovery and how it drives me when life gets a little to stagnant.
Our hike through Umstead Park felt like discovery at first. But after a mile on the trail the trees, plants and sounds all seemed to repeat themselves as though we were on an amusement park ride and the soundtrack ran on a continuous loop. After a mile I wanted to walk away from the trail and into the untouched woods around us. I wanted to climb over the fallen trees and find a stream to follow for a bit. Instead I stayed on the trail, like the good law-abiding hiker I am, and followed the loop back to the visitor center and the car. The air was clear and it was cool under the trees but I felt little changed from before the hike began.
Watching TV hardly ever feels like discovery. I gravitate towards shows I know and enjoy, comfortable shows that act like fuzzy slippers for my eyes. Though all my favorite slippers share characteristics with “No Reservations,” I’d already formed my opinion and was hardly ready for it to change. But change it did and four or five episodes later a Wikipedia article was up on my phone. The opening line of each show drew me in: “I’m Anthony Bourdain. I write, I travel, I eat and I’m hungry for more.” Before the show even begins he’s set himself apart as a writer who happens to have a travel show on a cable network. This uncompromising and authentic attitude carries through each moment of the show as he narrates each scene and provides insight into the thoughts and feelings a camera can’t possibly portray. Bourdain may be a little rough around the edges but it’s authentic and refreshing in our “reality” culture. The foul language, smoke, and misanthropy pouring out of Bourdain’s mouth at regular intervals, along with the forgotten and discarded bits of various animals he puts in, makes him easier to relate to than any real housewife I’ve been subjected to of late. My discovery of Anthony Bourdain refilled my creative tanks and reminded me, yet again, that everything deserves a second (or third) look.
So, after a good three day weekend, going for a hike caused a piece of me to die while almost an entire day spent in front of the TV created an epiphany of minor-epic proportions. Somehow that’s fitting for a holiday dedicated to giving people a break from work. I’m sure my next discovery won’t come so easily, but at least now I’ll be better prepared to receive it.
Ryan
Saturday, September 4, 2010
A Rolling Stone gathers no moss
Day 8: Two miles on the treadmill at the Kerr Y. Listened to Sticky Fingers by the Rolling Stones.
I didn't feel like battling the heat today so I took it inside and on the treadmill for a bit. I needed to zone out and the Rolling Stones obliged me with some great tunes. Had to skip one or two songs because they were too slow but I was pleasantly surprised at the rhythm I could keep. It was also nice to be a "nobody" at the Y.
Day 9: One mile loop through the neighborhood.
Today was a test. As people hear about my streak they either encourage me or express doubt and warnings about the toll all this running could take on my body. My knees felt a bit funny and my back was tight and sore from the X Train workout on Wednesday. I've done my research and I know the potential dangers. I would love to quiet all the doubters but I do worry about the stress of running every day. What would I end up with today?
Thankfully everything held together. My stretching and strength workouts need to happen with more regularity or I'm going to end up a mess on the side of the road one day.
Looking forward to a three day weekend and a chance to relax.
Ryan
I didn't feel like battling the heat today so I took it inside and on the treadmill for a bit. I needed to zone out and the Rolling Stones obliged me with some great tunes. Had to skip one or two songs because they were too slow but I was pleasantly surprised at the rhythm I could keep. It was also nice to be a "nobody" at the Y.
Day 9: One mile loop through the neighborhood.
Today was a test. As people hear about my streak they either encourage me or express doubt and warnings about the toll all this running could take on my body. My knees felt a bit funny and my back was tight and sore from the X Train workout on Wednesday. I've done my research and I know the potential dangers. I would love to quiet all the doubters but I do worry about the stress of running every day. What would I end up with today?
Thankfully everything held together. My stretching and strength workouts need to happen with more regularity or I'm going to end up a mess on the side of the road one day.
Looking forward to a three day weekend and a chance to relax.
Ryan
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Great Expectations
Day 7: About 1.5 miles. Sunny and clear but hotter than expected.
I set high expectations. I want epiphanies every time I tie up my shoes and head out the door. I turn off the music to better hear my own thoughts. My thoughts, however, rarely cooperate with illuminating and clear sound bites. Instead a mix of worries, observations and random associations burbles up and it becomes impossible to hear anything approximating Truth. Lately I've taken to feverishly hoping for messages from God on my runs. I feel like I need answers and I would like them sooner, rather than later. My inner monologue currently drowns out any messages from the Divine.
Two insights broke through the chatter today:
1) Sometimes a run is just a run. There may not be any answers hiding around corners and in the cracks on the sidewalk.
2) I will not ever eat peanut butter in large quantities before a run ever again. No matter how hungry I am I will not do it.
Ryan
I set high expectations. I want epiphanies every time I tie up my shoes and head out the door. I turn off the music to better hear my own thoughts. My thoughts, however, rarely cooperate with illuminating and clear sound bites. Instead a mix of worries, observations and random associations burbles up and it becomes impossible to hear anything approximating Truth. Lately I've taken to feverishly hoping for messages from God on my runs. I feel like I need answers and I would like them sooner, rather than later. My inner monologue currently drowns out any messages from the Divine.
Two insights broke through the chatter today:
1) Sometimes a run is just a run. There may not be any answers hiding around corners and in the cracks on the sidewalk.
2) I will not ever eat peanut butter in large quantities before a run ever again. No matter how hungry I am I will not do it.
Ryan
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Cicadas and Chihuahuas
Day 6: One mile.
I wasn't planning on running my mile at 8:45pm but there I was, running down poorly lit sidewalks as fast as I could so I could get back to my wife and my quesadilla waiting for me after a longer-than-expected day at the Y. My pace was good and my muscles felt more willing to work than they have in a while. Every mile brings the feasibility of this whole endeavor into sharper focus.
I won't spend any time on why my day was so long. It's not worth repeating and I'm the only one who cares in the end. I will say that I had a lot of frustration to get out and I wasn't all that surprised when I got home and realized how much the mental fuel helped to quicken my pace.
The run itself, aside from all the mess, was quite nice. The air smells different after the sun's gone down and the air is still warm and a bit heavy from the heat of the day. I kept drifting back to night's of flashlight tag in cul-de-sacs running through yards and bushes and laying flat on my belly to avoid the piercing beams. The droning cicadas masked my labored breathing from the seekers on those nights and they were with me again last night, providing company as I pounded down the sidewalks and streets.
The cicadas couldn't drown out the little chihuahua who began to bark as I approached her driveway. I thought she might be coming out to greet me but she started to give chase. Thankfully a dog's territory seems to be proportionate to its size and she gave up before I had to contemplate the implications of kicking a tiny dog in self defense. If I keep this up as long as I intend to, I'm going to have to deal with bigger dogs down the road. Hopefully a better plan is in place by then.
Ryan
I wasn't planning on running my mile at 8:45pm but there I was, running down poorly lit sidewalks as fast as I could so I could get back to my wife and my quesadilla waiting for me after a longer-than-expected day at the Y. My pace was good and my muscles felt more willing to work than they have in a while. Every mile brings the feasibility of this whole endeavor into sharper focus.
I won't spend any time on why my day was so long. It's not worth repeating and I'm the only one who cares in the end. I will say that I had a lot of frustration to get out and I wasn't all that surprised when I got home and realized how much the mental fuel helped to quicken my pace.
The run itself, aside from all the mess, was quite nice. The air smells different after the sun's gone down and the air is still warm and a bit heavy from the heat of the day. I kept drifting back to night's of flashlight tag in cul-de-sacs running through yards and bushes and laying flat on my belly to avoid the piercing beams. The droning cicadas masked my labored breathing from the seekers on those nights and they were with me again last night, providing company as I pounded down the sidewalks and streets.
The cicadas couldn't drown out the little chihuahua who began to bark as I approached her driveway. I thought she might be coming out to greet me but she started to give chase. Thankfully a dog's territory seems to be proportionate to its size and she gave up before I had to contemplate the implications of kicking a tiny dog in self defense. If I keep this up as long as I intend to, I'm going to have to deal with bigger dogs down the road. Hopefully a better plan is in place by then.
Ryan
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
I am waiting...
I am waiting for the clock to hit 8pm so I can drive home and hammer out a quick run before I collapse into bed. Insights--if there are any--will follow tomorrow.
Until then...
Ryan
Until then...
Ryan
Monday, August 30, 2010
Days 4 and 5
Day 4: Just over a mile with Katie indoors at the Kerr YMCA.
Day 5: Just over a mile outside as the sun came up.
Katie's starting a streak of her own and it's been fun to run alongside her and coach her though most of the time she doesn't want to hear my thoughts or encouraging words. If looks could kill I would have been dead on day 4. I'm reminded of my parents saying "You may hate me now but someday you'll thank me."
Which brings me to my thought for the day: When and why does running take on this negative side? As kids we love running and adults have to tell us over and over again to walk--at the mall, in the hallways at school, through the aisles at the grocery store-- and we have such trouble slowing down. At some point between third and twelfth grade we lose the mental freedom to take off running for no reason. We stop racing our friends from one point to another just because. Running becomes a chore, one of many tortuous things to be done in order to stay fit and healthy.
I think it all starts with the timed mile run in Phys. Ed. The "test" separates each class into losers and winners without ever naming them as such. But the kids know that those who finish first are somehow inherently better than those that finish last. Running becomes just another way in which we are different and the stripping of joy begins.
I wasn't the fastest runner in elementary school but I wasn't the slowest either. I was squarely in the middle and I was, for the most part, comfortable in my spot. So comfortable in fact, that I stayed there through middle school, high school and most of college before I decided I was capable of more. If the stigma of the "mile run" didn't exist, would I have enjoyed that many more years of running untethered to emotional and mental baggage? Probably not because myriad other factors--diet, activity level, interests--contribute just as much. But I still have negative feelings about running a mile. A 5k? No problem! Two miles? No problem! But a mile? That still causes me to feel sick to my stomach, like I'm about to speak in front of 1,000 people for the first time. I'd love to hear if anyone else has the same feeling.
At this point I must confess, I've not read Born to Run, and I know it's essential reading regarding the issues about which I'm ranting. Thankfully I've had enough friends converted by the book to understand the basics: We lost the joy of running and the freedom of moving through our environments unencumbered and now it's time to get back to our roots. I'm adding it to my list. Hopefully I'll be able to borrow a copy soon.
Which brings me to my second thought for the day: Why do we need a book to tell us what we lost?
For me this journey allows me to reconnect to the creek jumping, trouble getting, barefoot-in-the-summer kid I was until I got distracted.
See you tomorrow...
Ryan
Day 5: Just over a mile outside as the sun came up.
Katie's starting a streak of her own and it's been fun to run alongside her and coach her though most of the time she doesn't want to hear my thoughts or encouraging words. If looks could kill I would have been dead on day 4. I'm reminded of my parents saying "You may hate me now but someday you'll thank me."
Which brings me to my thought for the day: When and why does running take on this negative side? As kids we love running and adults have to tell us over and over again to walk--at the mall, in the hallways at school, through the aisles at the grocery store-- and we have such trouble slowing down. At some point between third and twelfth grade we lose the mental freedom to take off running for no reason. We stop racing our friends from one point to another just because. Running becomes a chore, one of many tortuous things to be done in order to stay fit and healthy.
I think it all starts with the timed mile run in Phys. Ed. The "test" separates each class into losers and winners without ever naming them as such. But the kids know that those who finish first are somehow inherently better than those that finish last. Running becomes just another way in which we are different and the stripping of joy begins.
I wasn't the fastest runner in elementary school but I wasn't the slowest either. I was squarely in the middle and I was, for the most part, comfortable in my spot. So comfortable in fact, that I stayed there through middle school, high school and most of college before I decided I was capable of more. If the stigma of the "mile run" didn't exist, would I have enjoyed that many more years of running untethered to emotional and mental baggage? Probably not because myriad other factors--diet, activity level, interests--contribute just as much. But I still have negative feelings about running a mile. A 5k? No problem! Two miles? No problem! But a mile? That still causes me to feel sick to my stomach, like I'm about to speak in front of 1,000 people for the first time. I'd love to hear if anyone else has the same feeling.
At this point I must confess, I've not read Born to Run, and I know it's essential reading regarding the issues about which I'm ranting. Thankfully I've had enough friends converted by the book to understand the basics: We lost the joy of running and the freedom of moving through our environments unencumbered and now it's time to get back to our roots. I'm adding it to my list. Hopefully I'll be able to borrow a copy soon.
Which brings me to my second thought for the day: Why do we need a book to tell us what we lost?
For me this journey allows me to reconnect to the creek jumping, trouble getting, barefoot-in-the-summer kid I was until I got distracted.
See you tomorrow...
Ryan
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Day 3: First Saturday morning run
Just over a mile around the neighborhood with my wife.
Katie came with me today. She's not a big fan of running but she made it through!
The route today took us through another section of the neighborhood made up of duplexes. The overall feeling reminds me of running through the neighborhood where Elliott and family live in "E.T." To say I'm not a big fan of "E.T." would be an understatement but thankfully the houses aren't the source of my anxiety. But that's a whole other post.
It felt good to get out early on a Saturday and run. This whole thing feels more manageable and doable now that I'm in the thick of it and my confidence grows every day.
See you tomorrow...
Ryan
Katie came with me today. She's not a big fan of running but she made it through!
The route today took us through another section of the neighborhood made up of duplexes. The overall feeling reminds me of running through the neighborhood where Elliott and family live in "E.T." To say I'm not a big fan of "E.T." would be an understatement but thankfully the houses aren't the source of my anxiety. But that's a whole other post.
It felt good to get out early on a Saturday and run. This whole thing feels more manageable and doable now that I'm in the thick of it and my confidence grows every day.
See you tomorrow...
Ryan
Friday, August 27, 2010
So far so good...
1 mile and some change. Little League World Series on the TV. Hawaii vs. Georgia.
After yesterday's kick-off run I was worried about today. My right hip-flexor was sore yesterday and my back was/is aching from X Train on Wednesday. Thankfully today's mile on the treadmill went off without a hitch.
The Little League World Series game was interesting in the way it's interesting to watch a highly skilled predatory animal devour something helpless. Hawaii hammered in run after run and Georgia looked like they just wanted to go home. Eventually I looked at the waterfall out the window instead.
I have a hard time relating to the kids and parents that get involved in the highest level of sport at a young age. It looks so stressful, like all the fun's been sucked out and replaced with unrealistic expectations and crushing consequences. To be fair, I was never a competitive kid. I played a few years of recreational league soccer through middle and high school but was never interested in practicing outside of the 1 or 2 times per week the team met on some scrubby field in North Raleigh. I played my heart out each game but after every game I left my drive on the field.
I think that's what intrigues me most about keeping up this streak: I have a drive, something internal that's pushing me forward. I'm genuinely excited about running and I can't wait for the next mile. We'll see how long this honeymoon stage lasts but I fell really good about it so far and that's got to account for something.
The real test will come Sunday morning.
One last thing: my idea inspired someone else to join me. Glenn, a member at the Y, decided to start his streak today. A community--large or small--could be really helpful as the streak moves from days, to weeks, to months, to years. Want to join us?
See you tomorrow...
Ryan
After yesterday's kick-off run I was worried about today. My right hip-flexor was sore yesterday and my back was/is aching from X Train on Wednesday. Thankfully today's mile on the treadmill went off without a hitch.
The Little League World Series game was interesting in the way it's interesting to watch a highly skilled predatory animal devour something helpless. Hawaii hammered in run after run and Georgia looked like they just wanted to go home. Eventually I looked at the waterfall out the window instead.
I have a hard time relating to the kids and parents that get involved in the highest level of sport at a young age. It looks so stressful, like all the fun's been sucked out and replaced with unrealistic expectations and crushing consequences. To be fair, I was never a competitive kid. I played a few years of recreational league soccer through middle and high school but was never interested in practicing outside of the 1 or 2 times per week the team met on some scrubby field in North Raleigh. I played my heart out each game but after every game I left my drive on the field.
I think that's what intrigues me most about keeping up this streak: I have a drive, something internal that's pushing me forward. I'm genuinely excited about running and I can't wait for the next mile. We'll see how long this honeymoon stage lasts but I fell really good about it so far and that's got to account for something.
The real test will come Sunday morning.
One last thing: my idea inspired someone else to join me. Glenn, a member at the Y, decided to start his streak today. A community--large or small--could be really helpful as the streak moves from days, to weeks, to months, to years. Want to join us?
See you tomorrow...
Ryan
Here goes nothing...
Day 1 (Yesterday):
4.14 miles through my neighborhood. No dogs.
I wanted to start my streak on a strong note with just the right music and just the right tempo. About halfway through the music was too loud and hard and the tempo was a bit more than I wanted. I've run the same route 5 or 6 times without issue but Beloved's driving drums and wall of guitars amped up my pace to the point where I had to rein it back in. Though I've almost always run with music of some sort, I'm beginning to see the benefits of keeping it simple. My hands are free if I trip. My ears are tuned in to the people and animals around me--some friendly, some not. My thoughts are clearer and I'm more in tune to my mind when it has something particularly insightful to say. It doesn't happen all that often so it's good to catch it when I can.
If you've never heard of streak running before: "the official definition of a running streak, as adopted by the United States Running Streak Association, Inc., is to run at least one continuous mile within each calendar day under one's own body power (without the utilization of any type of health or mechanical aid other than prosthetic devices)." (Thanks USRSA)
More than anything else this endeavor is an effort to create some accountability and motivation: I'll stay physically active through the running and mentally active through the writing. While I've done both sporadically over the years, I'm looking forward to the development this discipline will bring. Hopefully I'll inspire someone else at the same time, much like Nancy West did for me. (Thanks Dick Gordon)
See you tomorrow...
Ryan
4.14 miles through my neighborhood. No dogs.
I wanted to start my streak on a strong note with just the right music and just the right tempo. About halfway through the music was too loud and hard and the tempo was a bit more than I wanted. I've run the same route 5 or 6 times without issue but Beloved's driving drums and wall of guitars amped up my pace to the point where I had to rein it back in. Though I've almost always run with music of some sort, I'm beginning to see the benefits of keeping it simple. My hands are free if I trip. My ears are tuned in to the people and animals around me--some friendly, some not. My thoughts are clearer and I'm more in tune to my mind when it has something particularly insightful to say. It doesn't happen all that often so it's good to catch it when I can.
If you've never heard of streak running before: "the official definition of a running streak, as adopted by the United States Running Streak Association, Inc., is to run at least one continuous mile within each calendar day under one's own body power (without the utilization of any type of health or mechanical aid other than prosthetic devices)." (Thanks USRSA)
More than anything else this endeavor is an effort to create some accountability and motivation: I'll stay physically active through the running and mentally active through the writing. While I've done both sporadically over the years, I'm looking forward to the development this discipline will bring. Hopefully I'll inspire someone else at the same time, much like Nancy West did for me. (Thanks Dick Gordon)
See you tomorrow...
Ryan
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)