wow. 31 July 2007

Tuesday July 31
10:45 p.m.
Is it true I haven’t worked out since last Friday? Yes, I think it’s true. You know what that means: tomorrow I AM getting up early, so that I can go run. This project—on all levels—is too important to let fall flat just because August is here and all the stress of the job is here with it.

Today during a break in the staff retreat (in which I kept almost seeing episodes of The Office. For example: our little group for the “how many things do you have in common?” ice breaker…Myrna, adorably spunky and senior, “do we all go to church on Sunday? Have we all ridden a motor cycle?”) I talked to Kevin—my new coworker, the cross-country runner—about my half marathon dreams for December 1.

“So you’re going to start training now?” he said to me, with wide eyes of disbelief.
I feigned confidence, “oh yeah! I’ve read articles that say you can train in 10 weeks…”
“So there’s a plan to run one in 10 weeks.” He gave me another wide-eyed, “wow…” look. As if I had just told him I read an article that told me I could learn how to fly in the same amount of time. “oh you did. Wow.” Not quite the reaction I was hoping to get from the professional runner in my life.

I scoff in the face of him, with his tiny shorts and understanding of all the jargon in Runner’s World that continues to baffle me.

I’ve got coffee grounds in the shower to cure cellulite, along with the pavement pounding that is sure to begin bright and early tomorrow. (Saw the coffee grounds thing on Ellen. Supposed celebrity beauty secret. We’ll see what my thighs have to say about that. If nothing else, it helps me wake up.)

Wal-Mart 28 July 2007

Saturday, July 28
1:00 a.m.

NO I didn’t work out at 1:00 a.m., but I am reflecting now and very much still awake.

I feel like God and the universe fully endorsed my “workout/write it out” plan today. In Wal-Mart sporting goods department helping Jen, Matt, and Aaron shop for their Africa trip when I spot a copy of Runners World, and the headline that says “1/2 Marathon Special”. I almost can’t believe the good fortune, and impulse-buy it then and there (along with a tub of Edy’s Slow Churned American Idol “Take The Cake” ice cream. That impulse-buy was toward the end of the Wal-Mart trip; I was tired, plus my ex-boyfriend didn’t let me buy some once. That’s right, ladies, TOLD ME NOT TO BUY ICE CREAM. So…totally justified. And it’s ½ the fat.) SO. Now I have my first reading assignment of this journey, and with it no doubt some running assignments.

Wow. Ice cream upsets you that much, really? So that’s it. God says YES, YOU SHOULD RUN and NOOOOOO YOU SHOULD NOT BE IN A SERIOUS RELATIONSHIP, OR FOR THAT MATTER, ANYWHERE NEAR ONE.
What am I to do with myself? I’m not sure; besides kick myself into shape with pure discipline and a little lactic acid fermentation (still not quite sure what that means exactly). Sounds like a plan.

it starts with a big idea 27 July 2007

Friday July 27 9:08-9:28 a.m. walk/jog
Today’s iPod shuffle:
Such Great Heights–Postal Service
In a Sentimental Mood–John Coltrane
Rebellion (Lies)–Arcade Fire (Good work-it-out tunes)
Concerning the UFO Sighting Near Highland Illinois-–Sufjan (Good cool-it-off tunes)
Chicago-–Tony Bennett (Good walk-back-triumphantly-to-my-apartment-backdoor tunes)

Pretty sweet running epiphany.

Imagining running a ½ marathon in December, and how far that means I have to go, and how I might start reading Runner’s World to get really good at it, since right now I have about 2% athlete in me, and I realized THIS COULD BE A WRITING PROJECT! Since I have never been known for my physical prowess or athleticism…I’m going to need some help from experts. And why not make this an academic pursuit as well as a physical one? I think that is the secret to my success. Research lactic acid fermentation and put it into laygirls’ terms (what better practice for my hypothetical future career in science journalism?!), read running articles and learn about carb loading and the like, interview my athletic friends to get inside their heads and find out what makes them tick. Candice, Jennie, and Kzim come to mind: tell me, how are you not a fat ass? Seriously, your secrets elude me…

I mean, it’s going to have to take more motivation than how my thighs look to whip me into shape. My thighs have looked basically the same my whole life. I earned the nickname “Chicken Legs” during the shuttle run in 6th grade P.E., and I have never quite moved beyond skinny, pale, moderately-attractive-thanks-to-good-metabolism my whole life. There were a few short months when I had prom or a cruise to hope for, in which I was quite tan and quite lean, but those days are gone gone gone. Today I wore shorts, mainly because all my usual exercise capris were dirty, and I said “I will EMBRACE my thighs!” although these days they are more flabby than they were in 6th grade. I won’t hide them under Capri pants, NO! I am moderately attractive enough that creepy old men in trucks still ogle me as I jog. All hope is not lost! I am NOT androgynous, dowdy, or middle-aged (I passed one on my run outside Cox North: oversized man shirt, mullet, stretch pants and all) yet! There’s still blood in my veins and muscle under my skin…somewhere!

When I had this idea, long about the corner of Benton and Division, I swear it was like someone had spilled glitter on the sidewalk! (No, seriously, there was gold glitter everywhere. I don’t know how to explain it. Was there a Pride Parade in Springfield when I wasn’t looking??) No matter, inspiration sparkles brightly in the sunlight as well, and I think I can run this ½ marathon on December 1 (…4 months from next Wednesday) and I can write some kickass essays or blogs or the next big nonfiction work while I do it.

No small task. Today, I walk/jogged for 20 minutes. I did a mile in 13 minutes…mostly walking. It’s going to take some discipline to turn that into 13 miles of nonstop fierceness. You do have to start somewhere, and today I started with a great idea. Hope that exercise will continue to fuel my creativity, and hope for the thrill of head-throbbing, lung-expanding, good old-fashioned American sweat. It is good to be alive.