Tag Archives: running

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.

Running (in place) Commentary

My Boilermaker ambitions suffered a setback on Thursday when it was too dreadfully cold to run outdoors. It had also precipitated quite a bit on Wednesday, so there was more ice than I wanted to deal with. So I ran in place on the mini-tramp.

Running in place on the mini-tramp is not as easy as running outdoors on the sidewalk. My knees go higher and the pace is less leisurely. I did not run for as long as I did outdoors. I thought that would be OK, because I intended to run on Friday as well. This would work.

Then Friday I had the most horrendous headache. Perhaps you read my extremely lame blog post. That was a result of the pain. Sorry about that.

Today (Saturday) I woke up with the same headache, only not as bad. I had some coffee, ate breakfast and took some OTC migraine medicine. It seemed to help, but I was a little lightheaded. I decided to take my schnoodle, Tabby for a walk. It was not delightfully warm, but warm enough for walking. I wore my flood boots so I could navigate the puddles with impunity. Tabby doesn’t care if she gets her feet wet.

It was a nice, long walk, but when I got home I was all lightheaded again. I piddled and puttered around for a while, not wanting to run and feeling dreadfully guilty about not running. For one thing, how can I POSSIBLY run the Boilermaker if I don’t train properly? Registration is in one week. I must make an irrevocable decision soon.

On our walk earlier, I had observed myriad puddles, many of them lined with ice. I thought the mini-tramp was safer. It had the added advantage that if the exertion was just too much for me, I would already be home. “Just try,” I told myself (go ahead and quote Yoda at me; just try works for me!).

I actually did pretty good. The DVD I had been looking at while I ran Thursday was still in the machine, so I could continue my viewing of Nosferatu (the old, silent version, possibly the scariest movie ever made). I didn’t feel lightheaded any more. I ran a little further than I did on Thursday. Woohoo!

Of course I felt lightheaded as soon as I stopped running in place. No, I am not capable of running in place indefinitely to avoid feelings of lightheadedness. But I did what I could. Maybe this Boilermaker thing will work out for me.

Tune in tomorrow, when I might tell you all about the walk I took with Tabby.

Writing AT ALL

I’m afraid Tired Tuesday is going to be a regular feature for Mohawk Valley Girl, because, quite frankly, I am. This is what I wrote during the 9 a.m. break at work today. Full disclosure: I mostly wrote it just to get my pen moving and hoped I would come up with something better to publish. But perhaps this will do.

The one thing I have a horror of is staring at a blank page. What happens is that one daydreams one’s time away and where does that get one? I suppose there is something to be said for daydreaming, but most daydreamers are too busy daydreaming to say it (ooh, I just flashed on the Monkees’ “Daydream Believer.” Love those Monkees).

I’m having problems with the blog as well as the novel. I have a few things to write about for the blog, but I just can’t seem to put the words on the paper. I really hate admitting that. I can hear scornful voices saying, “Just write it, you big baby.” And I’m afraid the scornful voices are me.

I read a metaphor once that seems appropriate here. You probably won’t be able to batter down the door by main force. Try another door. And return to the first one every so often and give a gentle tap. It might let you in.

Actually, I feel a little better about myself right now, because I am actually putting words on a page. If I can write at all, I can potentially write something good. Ah, and that leads me into the similarities of writing and running. When I was trying to build up my run time in the army, my goal for myself on a run was to run a little faster than I really wanted to run. Very often that pace translated to “at all.” And, lo and behold, as long as I kept running AT ALL, eventually I improved.

Will it be so with my writing? Hard to say. I guess I’ll wait and find out.

NOTE: During my lunch break I wrote two pages on my novel. I wrote another page while doing laundry after work. Maybe writing AT All helps.

Just Saying

Earlier today I wrote the title of a blog post. Then I drew a line under it and wrote a paragraph of a different blog post. Then I turned the page and wrote pretty much an entire other blog post.

And here I am, typing off the cuff. Yes, I am taking another Blogger’s Sick Day. I have had a dreadful headache for most of the day. I know, other people have debilitating headaches and manage to write decent blog posts, or at least not to complain to all and sundry about them. Well, you may have noticed previously, in most cases, I am not other people.

The sad thing is that last Friday I had a much worse headache and actually managed a not bad blog post. Or do I flatter myself? Probably. In my defense, I had that post already written and had merely to copy it.

Ah, my astute reader asks, what about the entire other blog post you mentioned in paragraph one? Can’t you just type that one in? Somehow, I just don’t feel I can. You see, I wrote about how I MIGHT run the Boilermaker. Only, you see, I wrote the post, but I did not come home and run. How hypocritical is that? A whole post about running the Boilermaker from a person who did NOT run? I can’t do it.

I did take my dog Tabby for a walk. As I walked, I reflected on a saying I made up earlier in the week:

Standing burns more calories than sitting, walking burns more calories than standing, running burns more calories than walking, and walking your dog is just always a good thing to do.

I will now try to come up with a silly headline and wish you all a pleasant Non-Sequitur Thursday.

Still Strolling

I can’t, I positively can’t do another pedestrian post. Is walking the only thing I have to do in the Mohawk Valley? Well, truth be told, when the temperature finally goes above 40 degrees, walking is about the most satisfying thing to do.

I do want to start running again. Today I went so far as to bring my mother’s mini-tram down from the extra bedroom. I had the plan to run on it while I looked at a silent movie on DVD. I felt quite clever for thinking of this plan. You see, I rarely watch silent movies, because I like to knit or crochet while I watch. For a silent movie, you miss too much if you are not glued to the screen. I figured I could run on a mini-tramp and stay pretty glued to the screen.

The movie I chose was Nosferatu (1922), possibly the scariest movie ever made. I first saw part of Nosferatu in sixth grade. My elementary school got movies from the library (real movies on a reel; this was the 1970s) and showed them on Friday nights. My mom and Mrs. Lombino were among the ladies in charge of picking the movies. One October they got “a silent version of Dracula.” They thought it would be great. Aren’t silent movies always hilarious?

Um, no. Little kids were crying. They didn’t show the whole movie, although some of us would have liked to see it. I never encountered the movie again till years later. Now I have it on not one but two DVD collections of horror movies. Sweet.

OK, that whole stroll down memory lane was just to pad out the post. I can’t write about the movie, because I only watched about two minutes of it. I was thinking of how warm it probably was outside, and my dog was looking at me sadly.

So I got off the tramp, stopped the movie and walked the dog. I could always get back on the tramp later, but I am more likely to see if Tabby wants to go for another walk. I know, it is not as good exercise, taking a strolling walk and pausing to let a cute little dog sniff the snow. I don’t care. It is better for my soul.

No Write, No Run, But Wrist

Oh, it is SO Wrist to Forehead Sunday! I can’t write a post! I don’t want to write a post! I don’t want to write ANYTHING!

OK, got that out of my system. As usual, once I sit down at the keyboard, words come out. Maybe not good words, but I can at least edit out the bad words (you know like %$^#%$^@$(@ and *&*&^$%##!).

I read somewhere that motivation follows action, not the other way around. In other words, if you wait till you are “in the mood” (with apologies to Glenn Miller) to do a distasteful chore, you will never do it. However, once you begin said chore, you find it is not so bad after all. You happily do that and twelve other distasteful chores you have been putting off.

Unfortunately, sometimes it does not work. This morning, for example, I did the dishes and it did not lead me to sweep and mop the kitchen floor. I made a salad and chopped some vegetables for my lunch tomorrow. I’m sure I have praised in this blog the therapeutic benefits of chopping vegetables. Today, not so much.

I fear that if I tried to go running today it would be an unpleasant plod. I had previously agreed to let myself off the hook, due to temperatures below 20 degrees. Then I logged onto WordPress and saw a blogger I follow had published a post about how he went running in 8 degree weather. EIGHT DEGREES! What kind of a wimp am I? (It was Return of the Modern Philosopher , if you want to know.)

So that is the story of my life so far: no writing, no running. Well, if I have learned anything at my age, it is that these moods pass. However, that thought is more in the category of Middle-aged Musings. I’ll hold it for Monday. Hope to see you then.

Didn’t Run, Walked

I make bold to offer another Pedestrian Post so soon, and I lament the continued absence of Saturday Running commentary. When I walked with Tabby this morning I noticed the sidewalks didn’t seem too bad. I may have ventured a run, but it started to snow again shortly thereafter. The temperature had dropped, the wind picked up. I’ll try again another day.

I felt pretty pleased about going to the post office. For one thing, I had three postcards, a birthday card and a letter to mail. I had another letter started (never mind exactly when I started it, I don’t think that’s important), but one can only write so much at a time. I wanted to walk while my husband Steven was in the shower. Thus I maximize my husband time while still getting to the post office early.

As I started out, I realized that, as is often the case in winter, my upper half was much better covered that my lower half. After all, I had on a shirt, sweatshirt, jacket, hat, gloves, scarf on the upper half. On the lower half, I had pants, socks, sneakers. One measly layer. What was I thinking? But that is almost always the case. We don’t think to add long johns or pantyhose till it gets really frigid. I’m just saying.

It certainly felt good to walk. My legs just really enjoy it. Tabby stopped and sniffed the usual number of times. Sometimes it is really obvious what she’s interested in and other times I’m just stumped. I wonder if she feels that way about my television viewing.

In the post office, she got right in a lady’s way. The lady had just finished at the window and was turning to go.

“Oh, aren’t you adorable,” she said, petting Tabby. So I’m sure Tabby felt she had done the right thing.

We walked back by Basloe library, through the little park and the parking lot. No cars in the parking lot, because the library wasn’t open yet. I think Curves was, but we didn’t go in. I never renewed my membership, and I wasn’t dressed for a workout. Well, I’m sure they wouldn’t want a cute little doggy running around while I did the circuit anyways. I just always think Tabby would cheer up any setting.

She certainly cheered up my walk. Perhaps she will go on another one with me later, under the theory that two walks equals a run. If the temperature has gone down any further, I may add that extra layer on my lower half.