Today, I opted to go for a run. I need to begin running again. Not to train for another 1/2 marathon, but just to kick my own ass. Running always kicks my ass. Especially when I have avoided it for so long. 6.5 months, I think.
Still, I signed up to do a triathlon in July with some friends and we are working as a team - A TEAM, my friends, because the last time I did a triathlon I swear to God all the years of swim team, all the times at the beach and the pool growing up, all the practice hours I had put into it for months prior to the race disappeared FASTER than it takes me to finish a row of Thin Mints {and that's fast!} as soon as I got myself in the lake.
Could be because I was in a bathing suit, not a wet suit, and it was a very cold, rainy September morning.
Could be the hundreds of other women - serious triathletes, mind you - who were bound and determined to get SLOW LITTLE BEGINNER ME the hell outta their way.
Who knows? All I know is that I.did.not.like.that.swim.
It haunts me.
So yay! I'm on a team. We're going to do great. So, I thought, what the hell? I'll go on a run today.
It was beautiful outside. My goal? 4 miles.
Just for fun, I threw in 50 burpees on the run.
Then I thought, why not some pushups too? 75 of those suckers were added to the workout.
Oh yeah, and frog jumps, and side shuffles and high knee jogs and walking lunges.
The neighbors probably thought I had lost my marbles.
Either that, or they want to know who I train with and maybe they'll ask me and I'll hand them a business card! :) HA!
Hey, a girl can dream.
So what if I nearly made myself throw up.
So what if my desire to do "more" overshadowed the rational side of me that said - no - SCREAMED -
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, WOMAN? CAN'T YOU HEAR YOUR BREATHING? CAN'T YOU SEE THAT DOING THIS MUCH ON YOUR FIRST RUN IS LIKELY TO KILL YOU?"
And I know I didn't look pretty. A red-faced, sweaty mess.
Hmm, on second thought, maybe they won't be asking for my business card after all!
Oh hell, still, I did it.
It isn't quite bed time. I think it may be a bad sign when it pains me, just a little, to rise from my desk. The tight hams, the tighter quads, calves, shoulders and oh yes, butt are telling me - no SCREAMING at me:
"I TOLD YOU SO!"
"NAH NAH NAH NAH BOO BOO!"
But you know what? I'm gonna tell them to shut the hell up and I'm gonna get up and do it again tomorrow. Well...that is...of course...if I can move!
Still, I signed up to do a triathlon in July with some friends and we are working as a team - A TEAM, my friends, because the last time I did a triathlon I swear to God all the years of swim team, all the times at the beach and the pool growing up, all the practice hours I had put into it for months prior to the race disappeared FASTER than it takes me to finish a row of Thin Mints {and that's fast!} as soon as I got myself in the lake.
Could be because I was in a bathing suit, not a wet suit, and it was a very cold, rainy September morning.
Could be the hundreds of other women - serious triathletes, mind you - who were bound and determined to get SLOW LITTLE BEGINNER ME the hell outta their way.
Who knows? All I know is that I.did.not.like.that.swim.
It haunts me.
So yay! I'm on a team. We're going to do great. So, I thought, what the hell? I'll go on a run today.
It was beautiful outside. My goal? 4 miles.
Just for fun, I threw in 50 burpees on the run.
Then I thought, why not some pushups too? 75 of those suckers were added to the workout.
Oh yeah, and frog jumps, and side shuffles and high knee jogs and walking lunges.
The neighbors probably thought I had lost my marbles.
Either that, or they want to know who I train with and maybe they'll ask me and I'll hand them a business card! :) HA!
Hey, a girl can dream.
So what if I nearly made myself throw up.
So what if my desire to do "more" overshadowed the rational side of me that said - no - SCREAMED -
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, WOMAN? CAN'T YOU HEAR YOUR BREATHING? CAN'T YOU SEE THAT DOING THIS MUCH ON YOUR FIRST RUN IS LIKELY TO KILL YOU?"
And I know I didn't look pretty. A red-faced, sweaty mess.
Hmm, on second thought, maybe they won't be asking for my business card after all!
Oh hell, still, I did it.
It isn't quite bed time. I think it may be a bad sign when it pains me, just a little, to rise from my desk. The tight hams, the tighter quads, calves, shoulders and oh yes, butt are telling me - no SCREAMING at me:
"I TOLD YOU SO!"
"NAH NAH NAH NAH BOO BOO!"
But you know what? I'm gonna tell them to shut the hell up and I'm gonna get up and do it again tomorrow. Well...that is...of course...if I can move!
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