Tag Archives: running

Wrist to Forehead Run

Sometimes in the middle of a run, I flash on Gene Wilder in Young Frankenstein. It is the scene where he makes the momentous decision to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps. He sits bolt upright and stares at the audience with the eyes of a madman.

“IT! COULD! WORK!”

I said those words to myself on Sunday, towards the end of my Wrist to Forehead Run. I had been determined to run, not blow it off for two weeks like I did after I ran on April 12. For one thing, my Saturday run had gone so well (perhaps you read my blog post about it), I feel I could be forgiven for thinking “I got this.”

Of course I didn’t “got this.” Every step of Sunday’s run was an effort. When it started out that way, I thought, I just need to get warmed up; it’ll get easier. A block and a half later, I thought, if I write about this I can call it “Wrist to Forehead Run.” That amused me as I pictured myself running along, the back of one wrist on my forehead, the other arm flung back in a dramatic gesture.

“Woe is me!”

That’s a good trick for a runner: think of something amusing and distract yourself from how much running can suck. Of course running does not always suck. If it did, I would find another fitness activity. And there are rewards to running, even when it does suck. For example, silly mental images which are amusing. The ability to write a blog post about it. And never discount the satisfaction of being able to say, “I did it anyways.”

Begin Again AGAIN

So we were all excited that Saturday Running Commentary was back, and then, well, it wasn’t any more. This morning, I had no plan to run. I had a vague thought that perhaps at some point today, I’d give it a try. So there I was, about an hour before Steven had to be at work, thinking, what would I do? I really needed a shower. Shower now, run later, shower again? Stay stinky, run later, shower then? Oh, hell, like Nike says, just do it.

I got my gear on, I got out the door. I was doing it!

I figured I had enough time to run for 20 or 23 minutes and do my cool down walk with Tabby before Steven had to leave. Of course it was not really a problem if he left while I was gone, but he is a creature of habit. He might lock me out of the house without thinking about it. Then too, I do like to kiss him good-bye. I’m that sort of a wife.

The first thing I realized was that I was running faster than my usual pace. Naturally I was; I was in a hurry to finish the run before Steven left. The problem with that is I run for a certain length of time, not a certain distance. Twenty minutes is twenty minutes, whatever pace I run. Silly me. Well, the pace felt good. I kept it up as long as I felt like it and slowed down when I had to.

The second thing I noticed was that I was cold. My thermostat said the outdoor temperature was 45. That is normally shorts and t-shirt running weather for me, adding a sweatshirt for the cool down walk. But I am out of shape (actually, I maintain that round and puffy is a shape, so I guess technically I am NOT out of shape, but you know what I mean). So I felt a little cold. My hands felt really cold. At least my ears were OK, because I had found a headband which covered them.

The world was grey and gloomy. It had rained in the night but had luckily stopped. I don’t mind gloom. It suits me. I dodged around some of the puddles but was unable to avoid all the mud. No matter. I could take off my sneakers at the door.

As I ran, it occurred to me that it was not a problem. I can get back into running ANYTIME, I told myself. This is EASY! Really, it felt better and better. I even stopped feeling so cold. I suppose my hands might have been numb, but I didn’t need to use them. They’d be fine.

The question was how far to run. I had done 23 minutes when I ran two weeks ago. I thought 20 would be OK, since I was beginning again (yes, my two-weeks-ago run was supposed to be beginning again; sometimes these things don’t work out). Then I thought, I have been running for 23 minutes for a while now, with all these new beginnings. Perhaps I should break the 23 minute barrier.

Then again, I had the whole rest of my Saturday to get through, with a not inconsiderable list of chores I wanted to get done. I probably shouldn’t rack myself up. I mean, the idea isn’t to run as far as one can possibly run, is it? Oh, I suppose for some people it is. I finally compromised on 24 minutes.

As I finished the run, my inner critic said, this is no way to build up time. But my optimism, buoyed up by the thought that I HAD RUN, said, perhaps not, but it is a very good way to begin again. I ignored the inner critic’s math as she began to tally up the number of times I have tried to begin again.

As Tabby and I walked my cool down, I felt terrific. I love running! I have a definite plan to run tomorrow, and at least twice in the coming week. Thus I publish my intentions, in hopes it will encourage me to follow through.

Now about that list of chores…

Not Wrist, Walk

I feel it would be wrong to have Wrist to Forehead Sunday on Easter. And in any case it is unnecessary. My wrists are in their accustomed place, just beyond the edge of my keyboard, as I type. I shall offer instead a Pedestrian Post, utilizing a very nice walk I took with my schnoodle Tabby this morning.

I had to take my husband Steven to work at nine, in order to pick him up at one and go to Rome to my parents’ house for dinner. I have a list of things to accomplish in the meantime (I was taking my chances in doing this as such lists often send my wrist right to my forehead — “I’ll NEVER get these things done!”). I did the worst thing first, a sensible action I rarely take. I did the dishes. Then I did what promised to be one of the most pleasant: taking my dog for a walk.

It is as fine as an Easter morning ought to be: bright and sunny. Not awfully warm yet, but it’s early. At least I didn’t feel I needed my toque and insulated sweatshirt. Regular sweatshirt and crazy old lady hat. Prescription sunglasses and a couple of poop bags. I was ready.

Tabby was very happy to go. And stop. Of course dogs like to stop and sniff a lot, that is what they do. Today she seemed to find even more interesting spots than usual. I tried to indulge her as much as possible, although I do try to keep her from sticking her face into other dogs’ poo (WHY do these dog owners not pick it up like the rest of us do?).

We went by our favorite Historic Four Corners and down Main Street. We met a lady walking a very cute little white dog. The dog was quite interested in meeting Tabby. The lady and I petted each others’ dogs and chatted a little. It’s nice to meet another dog owner.

Heading up another street, we walked by a young man on a cell phone. He was too intent on his conversation to notice us. Tabby gave him an interested look but let him by. I saw a young lady further down the street on a cell phone, alternately talking into it and hollering at her kids not to come outside. I thought it would be funny if she was talking to the young man.

It was funny. I heard her say, “NOW do you know where you’re going?” and head back into the house. Then he headed towards that house. What did we do without cell phones? Got better directions and read house numbers, I suppose.

When we were almost home I saw a lady and little girl walking towards us. Tabby definitely wanted to meet them, because she walked right by our house towards them.

“My dog loves to meet people,” I told them.

The lady said her little girl was sometimes afraid of dogs, but I assured her Tabby was a good dog. They both petted her. The little girl seemed pretty OK with it. Really, Tabby is a most unthreatening pooch.

We enjoyed our Easter walk. Now I must see about crossing a few more things off that list before it’s time to pick up Steve (I guess I can at least cross off “Make blog post.”)

Rocking the Running Commentary

Yes! Running Commentary is back! And here it is!

When I decided to run at last, it was almost nine o’clock this morning (Saturday). The sun was high in the sky, but my thermostat thingy said the outdoor temperature was 41 degrees. My rule of thumb is shorts and t-shirt for anything over 45, although I don’t always follow it. Hmm… quite sunny, but I have not been running lately. I put on leggings and a long-sleeved shirt.

Oh dear, this was problematic, too (is anything ever easy for me, EVER?). Quite form-fitting. I showed my houseguest, Tracy (who will figure in other blog posts about this weekend). If I put on my road-guard vest, that would cover up the form-fittingness. However, running on sidewalks in the very broad daylight in a reflective vest might look even more dorky than the spandex. Tracy said it didn’t look that bad, but she’s nice. However, I went without the vest.

I was glad of the long legs and sleeves. I had a headband covering my ears, which was also good. I had tucked a tissue up one sleeve in case of nose runniness. I was good to go.

For how long? Since I have not been running at all in a sadly long time (not even sure how long since I can’t find my running journal), I thought 20 minutes would be good. Or even 15 in a pinch. After all, I had a lot of Mohawk Valley adventures to get in today. I didn’t want to be all tired out from running too far.

However, I do have a tentative goal to work for. Spring Farm Cares, an animal shelter in Clinton, NY, is sponsoring a run/walk in May. When I first heard of it last month, I said, “I can be in 5K shape by May!” And I could have, if only I would have kept running. How remiss of me. So I kept my mind off my running for a few blocks by doing the math and seeing how long I would be running by May if I ran X minutes and upped it by 10 percent every week. I can’t do the math very well in my head, so that was an effective mental exercise.

About seven or eight minutes into the run, I realized that I could, indeed, rock this. Those were the exact words that came into my head. I decided to write a blog post using them, and that helped keep my motivation high. I ran for 23 minutes. I’m right back where I left off the last time I ran. Woohoo!

As for the Spring Farm Cares run, I have already missed the first sign-up deadline, before the registration goes from $20 to $22. Day of race registration is only $25 (I think). I may wait and decide at the last minute. In the meantime, I’ll give a shout-out to the run. If any local runners are interested, the website is www.runwalkfortheanimals.com. Spring Farm Cares also has a Facebook page.

The Tabby Dog Blues

Saturday Running Commentary is right out the window. However, I have taken a few lovely walks with my schnoodle, Tabby. I think I can manage a paragraph or two about that.

Full disclosure: I’m typing this into the computer Thursday evening, having made Thursday’s and Friday’s posts, both of which I wrote while I was at work today (yes, boss, while on break). Saturday I will be wine tasting with the family (I have written a few blog posts about my stress getting ready for that).

Mohawk Valley weather was finally good to us this week, with 50 degree weather. Oh what a joy to walk when it’s not so damn cold! The puddles are mostly evaporated. Mud is not too bad. I can avoid it. Tabby chooses not to. I say she is the famous blues singer Muddy Paws. I’ve written a few lyrics for her.

Well I’m a dirty dog
And they call me Muddy Paws.
What do you want from me?
Do I look like Santa Claus?

My name is really Tabby
I got the Tabby dog blues.

I like to take a walk
with Cindy and with Steve.
When they get the leash out
I just can’t wait to leave.

My name is really Tabby
I got the Tabby dog blues.

I suppose she will have some Tabby dog blues when I am not home Friday and Saturday. We can look forward to a joyous reunion on Sunday. When I will make my usual Wrist to Forehead Sunday post.

Running with Judge Mathis

I had been thinking in a vague sort of way about running after work, so as to have something to write about. However, the unseasonably cold temperatures continue. I thought I might bundle up and run anyways, but the wind was so bitter, I became discouraged. However, I did manage a little something.

First I did my Twist Challenge for the day (see yesterday’s post). Steven nicely found “Wipe Out” on You Tube for me and I twisted while it played. Of course that was only two minutes and forty seconds. That won’t get me back into those size ten jeans. So I pulled out the mini-tramp and started running in place.

Previously when I have jogged on the mini-tramp, I put in a movie. I didn’t take the time to do that today. “Judge Mathis” was on TV (Steven likes judge shows). So I watched. None of these judge shows are what you might call classy, and Judge Mathis’ litigants do nothing to raise the bar. I like him, though. He’s tough but caring. Sometimes he lets the people yell at each other too much, but some producers seem to think audiences love that kind of thing (that might be a whole other blog post).

The first case made me laugh, because I think the two girls just wanted to be on TV. In fact, Judge Mathis accused them of it. They said no, but after the case one asked the other to be her bridesmaid. I have not spent much time in a courtroom, but I have to think that is unusual.

One thing I noticed running in place while watching TV. A minute lasts a long time. Even longer than that last minute before break at work. But I persevered. At one point, Steven played “Wipe Out” again, and I twisted on the mini-tramp. He didn’t turn the volume all the way down on the television, though, so we didn’t lose track of the case.

Eventually Judge Mathis was through meting out justice for the day, and I felt I had gotten some exercise I’m afraid it hardly makes for an exciting blog post. However, it is Wuss-out Wednesday. Happy Mid-Week, everyone.

Oh, Who Wants to Get Anything Done Anyways?

I need a new approach. I spend all week not getting a lot done and thinking, “I MUST do a lot on the weekend.” Then on the weekend, I don’t get anything done. I spend most of the day Sunday REALLY not wanting to get anything done, least of all a blog post. Eventually I manage to write a Wrist to Forehead Sunday post. Then I go on to Monday and start the whole cycle again.

Then again, it is nice to have a routine.

I did not spend Saturday having Mohawk Valley adventures, as I would have liked to have done. Not many adventures offered themselves to begin with, and I got a muscle spasm, also known as a crick in my neck. I had already managed a rather nice walk with Tabby, so I didn’t feel too guilty about my dog. I took some ibuprofen and made the best of things.

Local readers may be thinking, “BUT weren’t you supposed to register for the Boilermaker?” Indeed, registration was Saturday, and the 15K race filled up in something like three hours. I was not one of the 14,000 ambitious runners. Sorry to disappoint any regular readers (if anybody was paying attention in the first place). I just couldn’t count on my back allowing me to train properly. In my defense, I have run the Boilermaker three times and I will continue to run, perhaps participating in other local runs which will make perfectly acceptable blog posts.

I probably could have written an entire post apologizing for not registering for the Boilermaker, but that might have smacked of slimy self-justification and weaselly rationalization. Well, only people who are ACTUALLY RUNNING THE BOILERMAKER THIS YEAR have any right to shake their fingers or their heads at me (you can shake your groove thing at any time).

Well, here I am over 300 words. More than respectable for a Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I must confess, I enjoyed writing this one. I hope somebody has enjoyed reading it.

I’m Afraid this is a Post about Movies

This past weekend as I was running in place on the mini-tramp and watching Nosferatu (1922), I began to consider the question what makes a movie scary?

I describe Nosferatu as possibly the scariest movie ever made. I am sure there are many who disagree (not even counting the ones who disagree just to be disagreeable) (you know who you are). However, having seen an auditorium of young children reduced to tears over it, I feel comfortable in calling it a scary movie.

As I ran, I asked myself, am I being scared right now? The answer was generally no. During a few shots I said, “Ooh, scary!” but in fact I was not frightened.

Then again, it was broad daylight. I remember once years and years ago reading the book The Amityville Horror. My sister had read it first. She was reading it one night when I came home from babysitting. As was my habit, I ran home, burst into the house and slammed the door behind me. My sister knew I was expected, knew it was me as I came through the door, and still jumped a foot in the air when I slammed it shut.

She proceeded to tell me every scary thing she had just been reading and made me walk with her to her upstairs bedroom. I came back downstairs and had to spend a good half hour reading the Bible and watching “Highlights from Bing Crosby Christmas Specials” (which I providentially found on the meager cable available in the ’70s) before I dared to go to bed myself. After all, we were the last ones up. ALL the lights were going to be off.

With this in mind, I looked forward to reading the book myself. I started it one evening. Yikes! I finished it the following afternoon. What a disappointment! I know, I should have just waited till dark to finish it. As a reader, I am almost completely incapable of such behavior.

But getting back to Nosferatu, I wonder if I would have been more frightened had I watched it in the dark. I can see where it would have disturbed my sleep as a child. I would have lain in bed and just seen that scary vampire somewhere out there in the dark. The big nose, the deep-set eyes — no sexy savoir-faire for this blood sucker. I’d be watching the wall for his eerie shadow with the long, claw-like fingers. Ooohh.

On this last viewing, however, I noted and admired his scariness, but I was not scared. I was pleased that my interest was caught enough that I ran a little faster and kept running till the dramatic conclusion. But my sleep patterns were not disturbed (at least, I had my usual insomnia, but that’s a whole other topic).

So I had to ask myself: what makes a movie scary? One answer is: that you think it might happen to you. Many people suffer from a fear of birds after watching Alfred Hitchcock’s movie about them. That’s a pretty scary movie by this criteria, because those were perfectly ordinary birds such as you might see anywhere, until… It could happen! Right here! Right now! EEEEEeee!

Monster movies, when one looks at them rationally, should not be as scary, because we know there are no monsters. Or do we? I will probably never see a vampire coming at me, of the Max Schreck or Bela Lugosi variety. But IF I did, it would be scary! This is where having a vivid imagination (as I do) can greatly enhance your enjoyment of a scary movie.

Next time, I’m watching that movie after dark. Maybe on the night of a full moon.

Getting Ready for the Boilermaker

Today I did it! I came home from work, ran, and now I’m writing a blog post about it.

The weather forecast called for rain, but the rain had stopped a while before I left work. Of course, since most of the puddles were of melting snow origin to begin with, I knew I would have a wet run. No matter. The Boilermaker isn’t getting any further away. I was running.

The temperature was below 40, so I put on leggings and long sleeves. The shirt was a birthday present from my sister. It is specifically made for running. It is form-fitting. I looked at my bulges in the mirror and said, “Hmmm.” My sister had also given me a reflective vest. That would cover the bulges and be safe. Of course, it was daylight and I intended to stick to the sidewalks, so I might look like a total geek. Then again, when has that stopped me? The vest had the added advantage of a zipper pouch. I could lock the door and put the key there, so my dog Tabby would be safe too.

Tabby was disappointed that I was leaving her behind, but I reminded her that she doesn’t like running with me (she wants to stop and sniff too many times). I was off.

The day was still overcast and gloomy. Fortunately, I like it that way. The grey atmosphere suited my mood, because, I’ll be honest, I did not feel like running. Till I started actually running and then, well, it got a little better.

But not a whole lot better. Those damn puddles! I couldn’t plow right through the way I could walking in my flood boots. I would have splashed all over myself and then slogged along with sodden shoes. I went around as best as I could. Some areas were better than others, because a lot of the snow had melted and I could run in the muddy grass. I ran over some snow. The shallow stuff was OK, but the deeper banks were dangerous. And the ice. Yikes!

However, I did encounter a few long stretches of lovely bare sidewalk. Aahhh. And many places that at least offered a place to skirt around the water and ice. And in a pinch, there was always the road. Remember, I had on a reflective vest.

I must admit, this was one of the runs where I felt good that I ran more than I actually felt good after the run. Then again, I’m just getting back into it. And I’ve done the math. If I persist and add the recommended ten percent each week, I will be in grand shape for the Boilermaker.

Best Laid Plans

I thought the time had returned when I would come home from work, go running, and write a blog post about it. I put out running clothes last night when I put out my work clothes. I spent the day questioning my choice of running clothes and deciding what I would wear instead (because of how warm it was, not because I’m a running clothes horse).

And then my back betrayed me.

I guess us middle-aged ladies need to treat our bodies differently from how we treated them when we were in our resilient twenties (as if I remember that far back!). In any case, it seemed like a really dumb idea to spend the latter half of the afternoon at work complaining about my back pain, then go home and do something that would probably make it worse.

And any smug people sitting there smirking at me like I’m making up some lame excuse (they won’t openly accuse me of it, they’ll just sit there giving me that look — oh I HATE that look!) (you know who you are)… well, if you ever feel a fraction of my pain, just remember not to take pain relievers on an empty stomach.

Be that as it may, I took a walk instead, with my wonderful husband, Steven, and my delightful schnoodle, Tabby. I wore my flood boots, because some of those puddles are pretty deep. You know, where the snow banks on either side of the sidewalk act as dams (those damn snowbanks!) (get it? I thought it was clever). Steven did not wear his and had to do some fancy stepping to not get his feet soaked. I walked carefully through each one. Less twisting and maneuvering was better for my back.

Unfortunately, the walk was short and not very eventful. Then again, it’s a Tired Tuesday. Let’s see what I can come up with for Wuss-out Wednesday. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.