September 25, 2009
well, interesting to me, at least. My husband and I were talking today and he said I spend lots of time doing fun things, like running or playing the viola. "But that's not fun," I shot back. "I do that stuff because I have to." And I realized that pretty much everything I "like" to do is some kind of task or chore or hill to climb, with a goal attached. I run because I'm training for something. I practice viola because, well, I'm learning how to play viola and practicing is how you learn. I read stuff online because I want to find out about something, be it politics or how to make pancakes or what's going on in peoples' lives in the fora on CHRunners.net. I am withholding judgment on whether this is good or bad, but anyway I never realized it before and it's interesting.
There are commercials for Corona that are shot from the POV of people lying in hammocks on a beach, staring out at the sea. I wonder what that would be like. I wonder if I could stand it. I wonder if it would be good to do once in a while. When I used to smoke cigarettes I would spend smoke breaks staring at nothing and just thinking (or not), but that never happens now.
September 21, 2009
ask, and sometimes you shall receive
Rocket City Marathon has 3 categories of elite status. I just barely squeaked under the wire to meet the requirements for the lowest-of-the-low category, so a few weeks ago I put together my first-ever running resume (H: thanks for the template) and put in my request. I didn't want to come across as totally negative, but felt like a total idiot hyping myself for my decidedly mediocre and non-elite accomplishments: look! I once ran under 19:30 for 5k! Look! I won a couple of races where nobody else showed up! Look! I'm 45 years old and American, so mediocrity is the new excellence! But I knew that I'd never get this if I didn't ask for it. Anyway, the folks at Hunstville granted my request and comped my entry, and I am really, really happy about it, all the above sarcasm notwithstanding.
September 13, 2009
some good things about the race I ran today
1. it wasn't raining.
2. I got there in plenty of time to register, warm up, etc
3. I got to see my friend Aaron and his parents and some other people I haven't seen in a while.
4. I got to practice starting uphill, a little ways back from the line, on a 10ft-wide course, in a field of several hundred people.
5. I got to practice weaving around slower runners from the 5k race that started 5 minutes in front of us.
6. I got to run on some hills! Both up and down! One sign said "10% grade." In Florida? Who would have imagined?
7. I didn't slip too much on the parts of the course that were covered in slime from the recent heavy rain. I didn't fall.
8. I learned that I can't do a 180 around a cone placed in the middle of a 10ft-wide bike path. Not a moving 180, anyway; I have to come to a full stop.
9. I got to run the first couple of miles on pace, and it felt good.
10. By the time I realized that several of us had taken a wrong turn just before the 5-mile mark, I was hot and tired anyway, so I didn't mind just dogging it that extra kilometer.
11. As I was trying to get back to the real race course, a Smart car came driving down the road toward me. I waved, and he waved back.
12. There's a woman in my neighborhood who runs. I see her every day and have watched her graduate from the Pat-strap, run more smoothly, and get fitter and fitter. When we see each other we always wave, but we've never spoken beyond "good morning." Today's race was in a city about 20 miles from where I live so I didn't expect to see many from Tampa there. As I started my cooldown, I saw this woman finishing her 10k race. And we waved.
13. I get to do something I rarely do, which is speedball espresso and bourbon, in this case Jefferson's, a new discovery my husband recently brought home.
Seriously, I wonder if I'm deluding myself that I will actually improve anymore, especially at my age. My training is going well, but realistically: I'm 45, and I ain't no Colleen de Reuck, and I am relatively talentless. I just put in a lot of hours. But something inside me seriously wonders if I'll ever see a PR again.