Getting High

Ran my first road 10k.  Went well.  My time was 61mins so I beat my treadmill time by one minute. And I can rest assured if the race were moved to this weekend I could run the entire thing.  Chances are it won't though and I still have 5 weeks to train.  My current goal is to run it in under an hour.

Running on the road is an adventure.  (Calm down, I don't actually run in the road.  I'm using poetic license because "running on the road is an adventure" is more compelling than "running on the sidewalk is an adventure," because, really, how many adventures happen on sidewalks?  The whole point of sidewalks is to not be adventurous.)  So, anyway, running on the road is an adventure.  Tonight I dodged not only the expected doggy bombs, but also dangling spiders (damn spiders!) and an actual doggy who was overwhelmed when three other dogs on leashes and myself all coincidentally converged on him as he was detonating a bomb.  It happened too quickly to be scary and was instead only thrilling.  He really made a go for me.  His teeth snapped shut about two inches from my elbow.  Fortunately, the alarmingly thin teenage boy holding big doggy was just strong enough to pull him away.  I didn't break stride and I didn't look back. Nothing phases a triathlete!

The most entertaining part of my run though was the half mile after I saw a car floor mat lying in the middle of the road.  Baffling.  After seeing that I amused myself dreaming up the different scenarios that could result in a car floor mat somehow parting from the car floor it's lying on while that car is hurtling down the road.  Flintstone's car?  Irate passenger?  Alien abductors with a faulty beaming device?  Your guess is as good as mine.  My guess is it will remain one of the world's great unsolved mysteries.   

And the most interesting thing about my run, to me at least, was the last mile was the easiest.  I'm sure this is partly due to the way back being mostly a slight downslope.  I felt like a rock star booking across my imaginary finish line.  Also helping me out was the infamous runner's high.  I haven't had one so delicious in ages.  If you don't like running it's probably because you've never had one.  It's not a second wind, although those are nice; it's something more profound, more primal, more lovely.  If you've experienced it you know what I'm talking about.  It doesn't kick in, for me anyway, until I've run to exhaustion and beyond.  I think it's your reward for hanging in there.  And the harder you push yourself the faster it kicks in.  It's why runners run.  If you aren't a runner, trust me, it's worth pursuing.

So even though tonight I didn't have the motivation of trying not to fly off the treadmill, I did realize when I was halfway through and my body thought we were done (I don't blame her, we usually stop at 5k) that I was still 3.1miles from home.  Turns out that's a pretty good motivator too.

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OMG OMG OMG

I just found out I can order the cookie online!  The cookie, people!  The cookie.  I am seriously freaking out.  I decided to look for a picture to spice up my blog and found the actual bakery web site where I discovered I can order the actual cookie I saw on tv a few years ago that started me thinking maybe I could one day compete in a triathlon.  Wow.  Sorry, I need a minute.  I'm processing all this.

Deep breath.

So I'm picturing having finished my first ever triathlon, the event inspired by this cookie, and then I eat the cookie.   

My dreams are coming true.

I better go running.

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The Incredible Mom

I'm channeling Bruce Banner today.

I started my workout a (relatively) calm mom and I'm ending it a raging beast.  Working out with young children around is incredibly challenging.  Next to impossible, really.  But then I'm all about accomplishing the impossible these days.

I just did bicep curls with 15lb free weights.  I don't know about you, but I'm impressed.  That's a lot for a non-sporty woman.  The women in the video use 15-20lbs, but what impresses me is I started off last month lifting 8lbs.  Granted, in this phase I'm doing less reps, but still, I'm considerably stronger.  I used to think of the 10-20lb weights as hubby's since I solely used the 3lb and 5lb ones.  I only ever lifted the heavier weights to move them out of the way and they seemed absurdly heavy, but now I'm working out with them.  The 8lb weights miraculously turned into feathers overnight.

This is all wonderfully encouraging, but there is one drawback to lifting such heavy weights.  It's hard!  OMG, it's hard.  So my adrenaline is pumping, I'm grunting and groaning, I'm maxing out lifting to failure and the boys are fighting and crying, trying to run between my legs, patting my butt and completely driving me insane

So here's how a good mother turns into a CPS case:

"Hey, guys, watch out.  I'm lifting really heavy weights here and I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Ok boys, seriously, this is heavy you need to give me some space."

"BOYS!  I said I need space!  I'm getting angry.  You won't like me when I'm angry."

"HEY,  Listen to me NOW!"

"RaaahhhHHHH!  GET OUT OR MOMMY SMASH!"

Hmm... reading that back I'm realizing that's the script for pretty much all my interactions with my kids.



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The Skinny

Ok let's get real for a minute, people.

It's true.

Of course, it's true.

I am a woman after all.

I'm sure you've guessed by now.

I admit it.

A big reason (huge reason, ginormous reason) I'm training for a triathlon is I want to lose a few pounds.  You see I've got this pair of pants....

I think every woman in America owns these pants.   You know the ones.  You bought them one/two/ten years ago and at the time they looked fabulous on you--so flattering they should be illegal.  But now... they are just a crime.  Every once in a while you pull them out of the back of your closet, tug them up your thighs as far as you can--maybe you can even button them--but infallibly they end up in a sad little pile on the floor with you right there next to them sobbing your chubby little heart out.  It's a tragic and all too common tale.

Well I want to wear those pants again damnit!  I just bought mine a year ago and I'm only a few pounds away from being comfortable in them.  A few measly, paltry, miserable pounds.  Curse you pounds!  I rue the day we met!  But, no!  You have tarnished my self image for the last time.  I refuse to be beaten down.  Are you with me ladies?

I said are you WITH me ladies?!?

I can't HEAR you!

All right then!

Let's wear the hell out of those pants!



That's my version of the Braveheart speech.





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WTF is Power Gel?

Power gel.  Seriously?

It sounds absolutely disgusting.

Is it absolutely disgusting?

Don't tell me.  I don't want to know.

I think I have to eat it now.  I think it's what real athletes do.  At least, it's what athletes sponsored by Gatorade do.  I keep seeing references to it as I'm researching triathlons.   One web site for an event heralded it as a perk, "we provide power gel!"  I'm not convinced.  At all.  

It's probably expensive too, right?  I know it's expensive.  That's how they get you.  They concoct these high-priced supplements and then assault you with images of perfectly toned abs and asses until you start believing if you don't consume their "scientifically formulated" products you'll be a weak and flabby loser forever.  I recently overheard a woman in the grocery store extolling a certain brand of protein bar to her girlfriend. 

         "They have so much protein, it's crazy!  And they aren't many calories."

         "Hmmm....  But do they taste, like, you know, protein bars?"

         "Well, yeah they do, but they have so much protein!"

And there's the rub.  The things athletes are supposed to eat are often revolting.  Oh you get used to them, but Hershey ain't got nothing to worry about.  I have one brand of protein shake I drink through a straw because, while it does taste like chocolate, it smells like death.  And that's one of my favorites.

You know what, to hell with it.  I'm going to take one for the team.  I'm going to try power gel and report my findings.  Stay tuned...

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Tales from the Y

Working out in the Y family center is an experience.  Notice I didn't say "great experience" or "bad experience" because it's both.  It's great I can work out with my children safely contained in view behind a plexiglass barrier and it's bad because my children are right there in view with only a plexiglass barrier containing them.  Oh, to finish a workout without having to stop and hunt for a lost binky or comfort someone suffering from a flying lego injury.  (I do dream big, don't I?)  I take solace though in seeing all the other frazzled parents dealing with the same issues.

So here's some things I've heard while working out in the family center:

• "Honey, please put your brother's pants back on.  No, no.  On him."
  
• "Mommy, Parker has a stinky diaper and...  he just put his hand in it!"  (I guarantee that mom has never run on the treadmill as fast as she did off of that treadmill.)
  
• A ridiculously loud woman shouting to her (I hope) friend about how her teenage "son's girlfriend must look GORGEOUS NAKED because he can't keep his hands off of her!"
  
• "If I have to come in there one more time NO SUBWAY FOR YOU!"  (There's a restaurant in the lobby and all us parents turn into Subway Nazis eventually.)
  
• A young man on the elliptical fighting with (I'm guessing) his baby's mama on his cell phone.  Most memorable phrase, "baby, don't... don't be doing me like that."
  
• "Daddy.  Daddy.  DADDY!  Daddy!  DAH-DEE!  Daddy.  Daddy.  Daddy!  Dahhh-Deeeeeee!"
  
• Me mumbling to myself, "is this really as loud as my iPod volume goes?"

Fun times.  Fun times.

P.S.  I know those personal tvs on the machines are fabulous, but if you don't have kids with you DON'T WORK OUT IN THE FAMILY CENTER!  Join the other blissful child-free adults in the main room, you moron.

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Mommy Working Out

On Monday I officially started my triathlon training.  My baby (2 years old) wants desperately to follow in my footsteps so I'm constantly yelling at him to put down my free weights before he hurts himself.  Maybe someone should do the same for me.

I'm sore.

It's a good kind of sore though.  Right now.  I'll let you know how I feel tomorrow.  If I can type.  Last night I ran a 10k (6.2miles) at a 10-min mile pace.  I'm not gonna lie, it was rough.  I only hung in there because I was afraid if I tried to stop the treadmill I would lose my balance and fly off it thereby becoming a hilarious anecdote for someone at the Y to tell his  family later in the evening.  (Because, really, it would be hilarious to see someone fly off a treadmill, wouldn't it?)  So I just kept running and 62 minutes later I finished.  It's a good thing too because I'm registered to run a 10k in late September.  Well, I'm not actually required to run it, I could walk it, but now that I'm a triathlete (and I'm stifling giggles as I type that) I had better start seriously running.  This 10k is my first step on the road to triathlon town.

I'm also doing a program from beachbody.com called ChaLean Extreme.  It's mostly intense resistance training with a couple of superfun (read sarcastically), intense cardio and ab routines thrown in.  I'm now a month into the 3-month program and I'm surprised at how much I love it.  The routines are short, about 35 minutes, so that's a huge plus and I like the trainer, Chalene.  She should be annoying, but she's just so darn geniune.  I want to hang out with her.  And she's very motivating.  She's the one who planted the "I'm an athlete" seed in my head.  Now I can't stop it from growing.