Category: Geek Girl Runner

Trail Note
Not to make this all “RunningBlog” or anything, but you will not believe what I did today. I ran two laps around Centennial Park – that’s 7.6km – WITH MY HUSBAND. Yes, the Snook actually ran. Those of you who don’t know him do not understand the magnitude of my surprise. I have known him for six years now, and I have never seen him run farther than half a block without complaining of heart palpitations. Turns out he’s been holding out on me this whole time! It all started a few weeks ago when I suggested he come to the park with me and walk a lap or two, and he said he thought he should get some actual running shoes. Being a tight-arse, though, he wanted to go to Kmart and get $20 trainers. Since I really didn’t see where this was going, I agreed. (He nearly chickened out at the last minute. “I’ll have three pairs of shoes! I’m becoming a metrosexual!”) That day at the park, I ran my lap while he walked behind me. Afterwards he confessed that he’d jogged about a fifth of a lap when no one was looking. So today he came along with me to ostensibly do some more walking. “Let’s have a bit of a jog,” I said, “and you tell me if you need to stop.” And we did two laps! We stopped probably about every kilometer or so to take a quick walk break, but our total time for the two laps was a decent 53 minutes. He even pushed me a bit since his natural pace is a little bit faster than mine. I just still can’t quite believe it. “You’re caught out now,” I said. “You’re going to have to do this all the time!” “I suppose,” he said. “We’re going to become those people.” I guess we are. I finally have a running buddy. SQUEEEEEE!

And yes, the first thing on the To Do list is to get him some better shoes.

Learning How to Run. Yeah, I need to go for a run tonight. Unfortunately my birthday dinner triggered a weeklong food depression in which I’m still mired. I’ve been really tired for days – like, sleepy tired – and I’m stuffing my face with carbs. I haven’t even bothered tracking my Points. This is BAD, y’all. I know in my brain that all the rich food I had last week was the culprit, yet I’m still having trouble snapping out of this. (Needless to say, I didn’t weigh in last night.) Anybody have any words of wisdom for nipping a shame spiral in the bud? (Running link courtesy of Brigita.)

Trail Note
The Dove is trying to get me to think about “cycles” in my workouts, such as cycling between easy days, medium days, and real tough grueling days. Then there are larger cycles, like easy weeks and hard weeks. I get the concept, but I’m having a little difficulty with the execution. Having an “easy” week feels too much like I’m slacking off. So I’ve settled for having “different” weeks. Last week was quite focussed on running, with two long runs to Centennial Park. This week I’m doing shorter runs but more kickboxing and strength work. I’m also working in more fartlek this week, doing sprints and generally just running faster when I can. It keeps me interested. I did my Pyrmont-to-Glebe run today in forty-five minutes, but since that includes the time I spent waiting at stoplights I figure I’ve definitely cut a few minutes off that route. I don’t feel like my pace is so glacial anymore. I think I’m finally seeing some real improvement!

I still have my mental setbacks though. Last night I ran up through Newtown to the top of Enmore Road, and on my way back I passed one of the guys from my WW group. We shared a wave and I sort of sheepishly said, “I’m being good tonight!” And he was all laughing, like “I’m not!” And so afterwards for like ten minutes, I was trying to think of excuses I could give him at the next meeting for why I was working out, stuff like “I’m saving up Points for my birthday” or “I’m trying to meet a weight deadline” or something. But then I realized that’s bullshit. Why am I making excuses for doing stuff that’s good for me? It’s like I morphed back into my high school self, trying to shrug off my good grades and going to pains to explain to the other kids that I hadn’t, like, studied or anything. Because it’s obviously not cool to TRY for anything. But how else are you supposed to lose weight? It’s not like it’s some magical process where it just melts away if you wish hard enough. So I decided that I’m through making apologies for trying to improve myself. That’s just stupid.

Oh, but get this – I was talking to my Dad on the phone today and he asked me what my weight was in pounds, so I worked it out for him. Later I had this nagging feeling that I had missed something big… and then it hit me. For the first time in, like, ten years, I actually weigh LESS than the amount listed on my driver’s license. For real! That number used to be my *wink wink, nudge nudge* “Oh, sure you weigh 180, riiiight…” and now I’m actually below it! I am very proud of that.

Wow. I just found a helpful script that will create an iTunes playlist for you with the songs truncated to specific times so when you’re doing your running workout, you know when your run/walk intervals end. How cool is that? Too bad it’s only for friggin’ Windows.

Trail Note
I’ve had a case of the mean reds for the past few days. I don’t know why. It’s just like a switch was flipped, and suddenly I’m feeling depressed and bored and nervous. I have the urge to eat and eat and eat. (Before you say it’s probably hormonal, my Depo shots generally take care of that.) Could it be because the past few weeks have been so easy and I don’t think I’ve earned it? Is it because I’m actually afraid of getting to goal? Both are possible. I’m also dreading tomorrow’s inaugural workout with the Dove. For some reason I feel really embarrassed about him knowing how unfit I am. I know, I know – this goes against my whole “why hide the obvious?” dieting ethos, but I can’t help it. Sure, losing (nearly) twenty kilos is an accomplishment, but what if he expects me to be able to run faster and do more push-ups than I can? I’m afraid.

I did turn some of this anxiety into a positive, though. I headed out tonight with a vague goal of getting to Centennial Park and actually running the jogging track inside. (Usually I turn around because it takes me thirty minutes just to get there.) I was pretty tired when I finally arrived. The day was hot and my sports bra was too tight, so I had a stitch threatening the whole time. “Self,” I said, “if you can actually make it around the track without walking, I don’t care if you walk all the way home.” So I did it. I paused halfway around to have a sip from a drinking fountain, but it was no more than ten seconds so I’m counting that as a win. I timed myself at 26 minutes and these guys have measured the loop to 3.7km. With a little mathematical extrapolation, that equates to a 5K time of 35 minutes… which just happens to be my time from the last 5K race I ran. I think that’s good. I mean, I’d already been puffing up and down across Surry Hills for thirty minutes just to get there, so if I’d been starting fresh I think I would’ve taken a good amount of time off it. As promised to myself, I walked most of the way home. It felt pretty good.

Trail Note
I recently found a new favorite jogging route. I head back through Chippendale and across Cleveland Street, turning right on Abercrombie. Eventually I hit Wilson and that takes me all the way into Newtown. It’s nice because there aren’t a lot of lights to stop at, and the houses along Wilson Street have the prettiest flowers. I’m in love with frangipanis at the moment, and there are at least half a dozen in different colour combinations along the way. There’s also one house with some amazing purple plant growing under the front fence; I’ll have to take a picture so we can identify it. The street is also pretty hilly, which I’ve sorta come to appreciate. (I’m usually warmed up by the time I get to them, so it’s not so bad.) Once I get to Newtown I can continue on to Enmore or St. Peters, and then jog back down King Street to home. I did the short circuit today in about thirty minutes flat and I actually felt progressively better throughout the run. How weird is that? The first ten minutes sucked, but by the end I didn’t want to stop. (I obviously need to warm up more thoroughly.) I think I need new shoes though. I haven’t had any repeats of my foot pain from two years ago – possibly due to the fact that I’m not running on the treadmill anymore – but I’m starting to feel some general soreness along the sides of my feet. I’ve e-mailed the Dove asking for shoe purchase guidance (as well as boot camp instruction). Bring on the 10K!

Trail Note
I haven’t run much this week. I’ve been feeling kinda lethargic and crappy, and it seems like I’ve had a headache every day. I kept planning to run and then I’d still be sitting there two hours later, thinking I just didn’t feel like it. I thought that maybe my body was telling me I needed a break. Then today I finally just forced myself out there… and now I think that lack of running was the source of the whole problem! It’s like I just cleared out all my psychic crap and my energy’s flowing again. I felt good, really good. I ran across Cleveland Street and through Darlington, then up King Street through Newtown all the way to St. Peter’s. Then I turned around and ran back up to Missenden Road, down through the University, and across Vic Park to home. Took me about fifty minutes all up. I also noticed that I don’t feel embarrassed running now. I used to imagine everyone was staring at me and that I must look incredibly awkward and funny and weird, and that the ground must be shaking with every heavy footstep… but today I actually felt light and fit and healthy… and, frankly, damn sexy. I like this feeling!

Ferrets, Farmer’s Tans, and a Trail Note
In case you’re wondering what happened to CouchCam, it’s currently facing the wall to avoid offending your delicate sensibilities with the sight of a half-naked Scotsman. That’s right, folks, Ben (aka WeeB, aka The Ferret) is visiting us in Sydney for the first time. He flew in Thursday night and we immediately took him out for a Nepalese feast at House of Kathmandu. (The best part was the complete lack of guilt I felt, given that I’d had a run that morning and watched my Points all day long.) Friday was devoted to giving Ferret a tour of our fair city. We walked for probably five hours all up, taking time in the middle of the day to join the Snook and his co-workers for lunch. It was a bright and beautiful day, and despite my slip, slop, slap I still ended up rockin’ the farmer’s tan. (Check out DeskCam; only a true Midwestern girl could get a line like that.) I snapped a couple pictures not realizing that my camera was in some weird overexposure mode, but I kinda like the results:

   

In the afternoon I went on my longest run yet: all the way down Cleveland Street to the Sydney Cricket Ground, around Fox Studios past the horse stables and up to the start of Centennial Park, then back down Anzac Parade to Cleveland, turning right on Chalmers and running around Central Station before heading back down Broadway to home. Elapsed time: one hour five minutes. Distance: 8.5km (which, due to the fuzziness of my pedometer’s calculations, I’m dubbing “Kristy Mystery units”). I can definitely tell I’m improving though. Once I get warmed up, I don’t really need to stop and walk at all. (What rest I need I’m getting at traffic lights.) I’m also enjoying myself more, and I think I’m starting to get into that mental state runners talk about where you just seem to be able to brainstorm and work things out and solve the problems of the world. Maybe it’s a rhythm thing and I’m getting consistent enough that I go into a kind of self-hypnosis. *shrug* At any rate, it’s nice to finally be able to think about things other than the screaming aches and wearinesses of my own body. When I came to the cricket field at Sydney Boys’ High, I headed to the right intending to skirt along the footpath, but then impulsively I decided to head right across it instead. Nearby a young guy was teaching a little kid to skateboard, and an old couple were throwing tennis balls to their dogs, who were rolling around on the grass in doggy ecstasy… and I just couldn’t help smiling. Some days Sydney just won’t let you be in a bad mood.

Super Pathetic DietBlog (and Trail Note)
I shouldn’t have whined about staying the same weight for three weeks. I had a gain. Yeah, turducken and all, but it’s still depressing. I’m now back to 2.4kg away from wearing my new shoes. I know that’s nothin’, and I should be thinking about how it’ll only take two weeks to get rid of. But I’m not. People keep complimenting me and I smile and thank them for their encouragement… but I don’t think any of them realize how down I am about my progress right now. I know I’ve had peaks and troughs before, but the trough I’m in is lower than I’ve felt since I began WW seven months ago. I was in the shower the other day, not thinking about anything in particular, when suddenly my brain just stated: “You can’t do it. You’ll never do it.” And then it was out there, and I can’t seem to shake this feeling of powerlessness and self-loathing. I forced myself to a kickboxing class Monday night (mostly in the hopes that it would mitigate what was sure to be a gain at the meeting last night), but it left me so sore and bruised and tired afterwards that I just felt on the verge of a breakdown. Yesterday afternoon I had a crazy e-mail exhange with the Snook – “Why am I always starving? I HATE MYSELF.” – in which I tried to rationalize skipping the meeting but he wouldn’t let me. I left work dreading the weigh-in and wanting nothing more than to sit at home and eat leftover pumpkin pie and be completely self-destructive. And that made me so damn angry with myself that I decided to do the most painful, punishing thing I could think of: I went running. I put on my goddamn shoes and hobbled out the door. I ran all the way down Harris Street to Pyrmont, around by the Anzac Bridge and the Fish Markets, and then back up Wattle Street to home. Along that back stretch I was definitely in some pain – my side ached, my ankle was sore – but I could see someone else coming towards me, someone as red-faced and sweaty and slow as I was. It was only just as we reached each other that I realized it was Karen, one of the girls from my WW meeting. We shared a wave and a smile. Anyway, I got home and showered and made it to the meeting, and the whole time I was sitting there I was still feeling depressed and like everything I’d accomplished was a big fluke. Megan told us that motivation is a combination of how important a goal is to you and how confident you are in your ability to reach it. My confidence was at rock bottom… But then at the end of the meeting Megan announced that we had a milestone to celebrate, that someone had just passed the 30 kilos lost mark… and it was Karen. I felt both inspired by her and completely jealous, and then that made me feel like a big selfish jerk. I need to get out of this rut and I need it to happen fast. I’m seeing the hypnotherapist again on Friday, and I’m hoping to see her again the next week. In the meantime, I’m just going to take it one day at a time.

Now THIS is what I need instead of running on the road: The Treadmill Bike. HA!