It's fall. It's definitely fall. It's rainy and somewhat cold, though not quite the kind of cold where you can haul out your winter coat. It's still too cold to go out without any coat though, and just barely warm enough you can get away with a good sweatshirt. It's definitely cold in the mornings and at night, and that's when I tend to run.
We're all well aware that I don't have high-tech running gear. I have Skechers shoes from Marshall's and cotton shorts and useless sports bras. I don't have any fancy moisture-wicking temperature-regulating fuse-with-your-skin-and-make-you-aerodynamic running gear. And I hear that's what you need in the winter. Well, not need necessarily so much as strongly desire. Staying in shorts works for awhile because the body gets quite warm running. But somewhere around 45 or below that stops being an option. So then you break out the sweatshirt and sweatpants, and your body heats up like normal, and now your face is frozen and you're sweating through your clothes and the sweat is reaching the outside temperature and then pressing back up against your skin. So you're freezing and sticky and uncomfortable. Is that the sort of thing you roll out of bed in the morning looking forward to? Well I don't.
So I've decided to move my jogging indoors for the season. We have an indoor track at Western that is open during the general hours I tend to run, and its made of that nice cushy track material that's so much better for your joints than concrete. But the scenery sucks (a basketball court below; how marvelous...) and it's SO SHORT. It takes 10.5 laps on that thing to make a mile. The brain protests that sort of thing.
"Lucy," it says, "you've gone around this track four or five times. That's over a mile. You're tired. STOP!"
"No, brain," I say, "it's only been half a mile. Quit being such a wuss."
"Are you sure," my legs inquire, slowing down and growing heavy.
"It has.... to have been..... longerthanthat," sputter my lungs.
"Dammit." I'm suddenly exhausted. "You win."
So, there's that to contend with. But the other good thing about the gym is access to weight machines! I like being able to diversify what muscles I work. I love stairs and stair climbers. I went to the gym frequently in the spring and one of my goals then was to work up my arms and chest a bit and try to do a push-up.
That's been another goal of mine. A friend told me about the One Hundred Pushups challenge and I'm intrigued. I haven't decided whether to pursue that or not. If I do it, I want to really do it, holding myself accountable. One of the reasons I didn't do the Couch to 5K plan (aside from that I didn't hear of it until about a month into my running) is that I'm scared to apply myself to something that requires routine, when as a college student on any given day I might have to sacrifice a few things I'd planned to do in favor of homework, or sleep. I don't think I'm ready to take that on yet. Maybe in winter quarter, when I'll be taking fewer credits, I'll commit to something like that.
In summation (as though this was some big classroom speech) I haven't stopped running, but I've moved it indoors. It's a little easier to keep track of my distance progress that way, since I know exactly how long the track is, how many laps in a mile, etc. I think it'll work out well. I've made it this far.
I want to be a runner. This is my space to describe what I'm doing, whine about it when necessary, and parade my progress about on the internet.
Showing posts with label sports bra. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sports bra. Show all posts
Friday, November 5, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
A TMI post. Because there just had to be at least one.
In the last few days I have learned that PMS and jogging should never go together, at least not when you PMS like me. (I decided PMS could be a verb, too. Just roll with it.) My worst PMS symptom is sore boobs. Sore boobs + sports bra (see also: garment that is primarily designed to flatten, but in no way support, your chest) = very unhappy Lucy. If there is no one running towards me (since I look completely ridiculous doing this), I end up flattening my chest with my fists as I run, just so I can stand to jog without wincing. If anyone knows of a miracle sports bra to fix this problem, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, TELL ME! I'll probably have to wait awhile to be able to afford it... but it'd be good to know about.
Despite my... predicament, Mike and I braved the ever-greying, approaching-autumn overcast skies and drizzle to jog along the South Bay Trail again. Mike has a (distant) history of asthma and smoking, so in our first few weeks as runners, he's been having a rough time with his breathing. We're both breaking down barriers all the time, though, and we were able to run the whole 1.4 mile course to the park without stopping! Then we walked around the park and half a mile back down the trail before running the last mile. This is definite progress for him, and quite good for me too, since I haven't done anything like my three-mile jog of frustration lately.
I am now completely wiped out. I meant to eat, do dishes, shower, and go get some groceries--in that order--after we got back from the jog. I ate a little bit, and then my body disabled my brain and decided it needed a shower (dishes be damned, apparently). I didn't realize I was supposed to do the dishes first until I turned off the water at the end of my shower. I'm so clean now that I can't bring myself to do the dishes! And my legs hurt so much that groceries are going to have to wait, too. Plus it's still raining. But the progress is good enough for me.
Despite my... predicament, Mike and I braved the ever-greying, approaching-autumn overcast skies and drizzle to jog along the South Bay Trail again. Mike has a (distant) history of asthma and smoking, so in our first few weeks as runners, he's been having a rough time with his breathing. We're both breaking down barriers all the time, though, and we were able to run the whole 1.4 mile course to the park without stopping! Then we walked around the park and half a mile back down the trail before running the last mile. This is definite progress for him, and quite good for me too, since I haven't done anything like my three-mile jog of frustration lately.
I am now completely wiped out. I meant to eat, do dishes, shower, and go get some groceries--in that order--after we got back from the jog. I ate a little bit, and then my body disabled my brain and decided it needed a shower (dishes be damned, apparently). I didn't realize I was supposed to do the dishes first until I turned off the water at the end of my shower. I'm so clean now that I can't bring myself to do the dishes! And my legs hurt so much that groceries are going to have to wait, too. Plus it's still raining. But the progress is good enough for me.
Labels:
making progress,
PMS,
self-pity,
sore,
sports bra,
weather
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