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.

As I ran up Wilson Street to Newtown early this morning, watching the sun rise and chase away the storm clouds, I decided to declare last week’s diet funk officially BUSTED. I feel really great. I ran two laps around Centennial Park Wednesday night and cut a minute or so off my time. (Albert pushed me to a faster pace than normal on the first lap, which made up for my very slow jog on the second.) Last night I went to boxing class and worked up such a sweat that I actually made the mat slippery. (Note to self: Find terrycloth sweatband.) Then this morning I had a great little forty minute jog up to Newtown and back. I’m eating well and tracking my Points again. I guess the lesson to be learned is that occasional lapses are totally okay, but that my body can’t handle prolonged periods of rich food and drink like it used to. I was seriously out of it for four days.

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.

As today is one of my “hard” days – the Dove has me cycling my workouts between easy, medium, and hard – I told the Snook to put on his walkin’ shoes. We headed out towards Centennial Park. The sun was coming out and people were already turning up for the Mardi Gras after-party at Fox Studios. We made it to the Park in 45 minutes flat. Then I planted him on a bench with a Baker’s Delight Cheesymite Scroll and The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen while I hit the jogging track. I noticed that I was definitely fresher and faster today, and I finished the 3.7km loop in just over 24 minutes (cutting two minutes off my usual time). After a quick stop for a sip of water, I started slogging my way through a second lap. I was definitely slower here, but I wasn’t hurting and I actually felt like I could run a fair way. I jogged about half of it and then decided I might as well do some Fartlek. Repeatedly I picked out a spot way ahead of me and then sprinted as fast as I could til I reached it. Then I’d walk and wheeze and puff like a freight train, scaring all the adorable children out on their training wheel bikes. It felt really good though. I finished the second lap in 26 minutes, which put me on pace for finishing the 10K in 67 minutes. Not bad! Ideally I’d like to do it in sixty minutes when I run it in a few months. Do you guys think that’s doable? I feel like it’s totally reachable. I am encouraged. Afterwards we walked home again, which means that I earned – no joke – like 11 extra Bonus Points today. (I really, really want to get down to 80kg this week!)

“I’ve got a fever… and the prescription is MORE COWBELL!” I did another long run tonight (as mentioned below), all the way to Centennial Park, around the jogging track, and back home. My time on the track was exactly the same as last week – 26 minutes. I felt a lot better this time though. My breathing wasn’t as labored; I was going slow but I felt like I could go on forever. The best part of these long runs is that I finally get to hear the ends of Max’s mixes! There I was chugging along tonight to this vaguely Latin sounding percussive mix, when a light bulb went off in my head and I nearly fell over laughing as I realized what the voice was singing over and over. (It was the aforementioned line about cowbell.) Well done, Max. And well done me!

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 I found someone who 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!