Running Log

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Big Fat Lies

I subscribe to Runner’s World magazine. It’s a very useful resource. It talks about training techniques, injury prevention, what to eat, how to run faster, stronger, etc. Exactly the sorts of things you’d expect a magazine on running to have in it.

Then there are the inspirational stories.

Now, don’t get me wrong; I love reading those stories. Stories about people who were sedentary getting off their duffs and going on to run a marathon. People with diseases overcoming them. Elite athletes excelling. All good stuff. And, because I’m a total softy, I get all verklempt and weepy reading those accounts.

But I swear, in every issue there is a runner quoted as saying that she loves running. And that she could not live without it. Because it clears her brain and lets her mind expand. She loves getting out into the world and getting in touch with nature. And she goes on and on about the lovely endorphins that course through her veins. “The endorphins, my heavenly stars in the sky, the ENDORPHINS! I’M IN LOVE WITH THE ENDORPHINS!” She speaks eloquently of the runner’s high and how exquisite running is. Seriously, it borders on pr0n on occasion. Or how running is very zen and a tranquility hovers over the rest of her life BECAUSE she is a runner. She was not a complete person until she discovered/began running. Really makes you want to lace up a pair of shoes and hit the open road. The glory of running all packaged on glossy paper and perfect bound and delivered to your mailbox.

Or some other crap like that.

Here’s my dirty little secret about running:

I don’t enjoy it. I do it. I do a lot of it of late. Last week I did 24 miles and this week I’ll do about 22 or so.

But I kind of hate it.

And the endorphins? The zen-like state of higher consciousness? The exercise pr0n?

Lies. All lies. Big, fat, and very sweaty and seriously stinky lies.

I’ve never had a runner’s high. I don’t know squat about a “second wind” where you feel like you might never stop running. Like you could run for days and nothing is holding you back. I don’t feel joy and frankly I don’t like being outside that much. I get sunburned so easily and heat stroke is a few steps closer for me than it is for the rest of the population, I think. And I’ve come to believe that endorphins are made up things, like elves or a balanced Federal budget. They don’t really exist and people talk about them like they do so they won’t feel stupid about killing themselves while running. It’s all pain and suffering and hell while I’m running and with every step I swear that I’m going to stop that very instant and start slouching on the couch again, TV remote in one hand, cold beverage beside me and my other hand scratching my nether regions until they have to pry my fat booty off the sofa with a crane. I really don’t enjoy the physical act of running.

Or any other physical activity for that matter, so don’t try and pawn off bicycling or some other sweaty crap on me, OK?

But here’s what I do enjoy about running. I love, flat out, LOVE the sensation of having run. I love the past tense of running. I keep a running journal of sorts and nothing gives me greater pleasure (even more enjoyment than scratching my nether regions) than thumbing through it and looking at all the past runs and the miles I’ve logged. That’s what keeps me going. And the races. Though I’m not at all competitive, I like the jittery feeling you get at the starting line and the sheer joy of the finish line. That’s very cool, indeed. I’ve been running “seriously” for about four years now and keeping pretty good track of my runs for the last year or so and I really dig looking back at the past history of pain. Much more so than looking forward to Saturday’s long run or Tuesday’s fartleks or intervals.

Now, I’m not saying that I really hate running. It’s way easier now that it used to be. I can run 5-6 miles without really thinking “this is gonna suck toad skins.” And that’s a nice feeling, I suppose. And my heart is in much better shape than it was a few years ago. And I’ll probably die later rather than sooner because I’m in better overall health than I used to be. And sometimes it’s not bad at all for those in between miles. Occasionally, there are short periods where I think, “Not too shabby.”

But I just need to point out that I think those folks who say they get some kind of basal pleasure from schlepping down the street with stinkiness oozing off themselves; they are big, fat LIARS. OK, they probably are not fat, because let’s be honest, it’s hard to be a fat hard core runner. That’s not a zen-like nirvana you see on their faces as you pass them in your car though, it’s agony and them counting the steps until they can stop the madness and sit back down on the couch.

Now, where’s my cold beverage? I did 8 miles just now and I want my damn cold beverage!

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Sweet Sixteen?

IMPORTANT SAFETY TIP:

If you are going to run 16 miles on Saturday morning, giving a pint of blood on Thursday evening is NOT a good idea.

I hit 12 miles and my body was not going to go another step. Weird feeling. I rested and then basically walked back to my car.

Ugh.

Going to go eat ice cream now.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Would YOU Honk at This?

I run almost exclusively at night. There have been times in my life when I’ve been a morning person, but right now is not one of those times. And I know, I know, I really should run/exercise in the morning, but let’s just be happy that I’m off the couch, and not worry too much about the particulars, OK?

I also know when I run the St. George marathon in Oct. that I’m going to be running a very long way, very early in the morning. I’m not worried about that. Mostly I’ll be worried about the enormous distance stretching out in front of me. What time it is will be secondary, I assure you.

I also run on a busy, but not terribly busy road. (Wasatch Blvd, for those of you familiar with SLC) I’d say a car passes me every minute or two as I putter down the sidewalk.

Here’s what I don’t get: People honk at me and yell at me. Specificallly, female types yell at me. Like last night, a whole group of teenage girls yelled at me. Something along the lines of “Woo Hoo!” which I barely heard over the din of Rush in my iPod and also mostly just succeeded in scaring the be-hoovies out of me. Seriously, I jumped a foot in the air.

Anyway, I’ve long since given up on the notion that I’m a “looker” and I’m OK with that. Even when I had hair, I don’t think I was “all that.” I attracted the ladies through wit (and guile) and my boyish grin. Though I’ve been told by reputable sources that I’m pretty hot stuff to “bears” in the gay community. And I’m even OK with that. Nice to know I’d have someplace to land if I ever decided to switch teams.

Maybe they were just trying to startle me and weren’t really expressing an opinion on my overall looks. Or maybe they are large bearded gay men with abnormally high pitched voices.

And I know that these people aren’t trying to tell me to get off the road. When I run, I’m about a parsec off the road. Safety first, after all.

But I get really perplexed when people honk at me. When I run with Reha and they honk at her I can understand that completely. For one thing she is hot. And not just to gay guys! Obviously, honking at her is dumb, macho, misogynistic (take your pick of derogatory adjective there), and has ZERO chance of ever being effective as a device to meet someone new. I mean, what are you going to tell your grandchildren? Yeah, when I met grandma, she was jogging, and I honked at her from my bitchin’ Camaro and she swooned and we’ve been together ever since. Whatever.

So I’ll give you photographic evidence. Would you honk at this guy?

I thought not. I mean look at those legs! Pale and pasty doesn’t even come close, does it? I’m so white I’m basically transparent, you know. Plus, I had just gotten back from a 5 mile run and I was stinky and sweaty and icky. Though I will say this: My legs, right now… those thigh and calf muscles? Like freaking steel ropes, man. I’ll never be a tanned man or have hair on the top of my head, but my damn leg muscles are FABULOUS!

But look! If you zoom in real close on that photo, you can see the t-shirt that I made and you can purchase for yourself. I’m sure you’d look much better in a shirt like this than I do, great looking person that you are.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

And I Rannnnn

And I rannnnn/I ran so far away/I just ran/I ran all night and day/I couldn’t get away — Flock of Seagulls

Reha and I have undertaken the rather momentous journey of running a marathon. Now for you regular readers, this is old hat. I threaten to run a marathon just about every other day. But this time we are serious and are a hair or two short of halfway trained. (We did a ten mile run last Saturday, and niether one of us collapsed/puked/fell over/died. It was a Christmas miracle in July).

We have signed on with Team in Training and it’s pretty fun. Well, as fun as it can be to sweat profusely in front of semi-strangers while wearing shorts that show off your pasty white thighs. It’s a great cause that we wholeheartedly support and plus they make a tasty Gatorade mix on long run Saturdays. I’ll have more on this later, but if you’d like to contribute, please get thee here. Basically, we have signed up to fundraise money and in exchange we get free Gatorade and training. Sounds like a great deal, huh?! Well, trust me, it is. Like I said, more on that later.

What I really wanted to do was share with you my perfectly crafted Running Playlist. It’s all hooked in on my iPod Shuffle. 3.9 hours of pure inspiration. As usual, click on the thumbnail and it gets bigger.

A few explanations:

The iPod Shuffle is named “RUN LIKE HELL” which will embarass my mother and I’m likely to get a phone call from her telling me to re-name the thing. Mom doesn’t like it when I swear and even though I’m turning 40 next year, she’s always going to tell me when I’ve done something “inappropriate,” bless her Southern, proper heart.

Most of the songs either have something to do with running, either in the title or buried somewhere in the lyrics.

Hey Ya! would be “outtathere” since it’s like, so very 2003, and it kind of drives me nuts to listen to it these days, but the beat happens to match my footfalls EXACTLY. So it stays.

I know, I know, there’s a lot of Rush there. But I’m a dork, OK. Plus, how can you run a marathon and not include Marathon by Rush?

Yellow Ledbetter is only there because Reha borrows the iPod every now and then. Good song, but weird to run to. But the woman is still obsessed with the song.

Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough by Michael Jackson. Don’t give me a hard time about that one. It’s from before he went completely off the deep end, OK? Plus, it’s just a great song. All should bow before Quincy Jones, by the way.

Run Like Hell by Pink Floyd. Seems obvious. It was either that or “Comfortably Numb” and that probably wouldn’t do, if you think about it.

Kill Your Television by Ned’s Atomic Dustbin is a great running song for me. As is Blitzkrieg Bop by the Ramones.

Bad by U2 is a great song, period. Kind of sucky for running, frankly, but once it crescendos up 3/4 of the way through, it’s amazing.

Lust for Life by Iggy Pop. All I have to do is think about him being a freaky maniac on stage and all that energy just kind of flows into me. Yeah, I know that’s goofy and New Age-y, but I swear, it’s true.

Hammer and a Nail by The Indigo Girls. Again, this one is there for Reha, bless her granola eating, femi-nazi lovin’ heart. It’s actually a pretty decent song to run to.

Fight the Power by Public Enemy. Oh yes. It’s The Man keeping us down, my brothers and sistahs.

Anyway, I’ll have more on the Team in Training thing later and how you can help. Mostly you can help by throwing some money in my outstretched tin cup. But if you have great workout/running songs, please let me know! Anything up tempo that doesn’t have a boy band driving it is probably OK. And no Country. Or Western. (You know the joke, “There’s two kinds of music I like, sonny. Country. And Western").

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Log 014

Ran 2.20 miles
21 minutes
Walked 20 minutes

 

Novus

Proximus

 

Favorite Entries

If you are new around here, the following entries have been reasonably well received. You might want to peruse these.

• Help Wanted
• From the Office of Mis-directed Email
• A Word from the Small Person in the House
• RNT Product Review: Chocolate Mix Skittles Left Me Sterile!
• Jon’s Report Card circa… A Long Time Ago
• Dear Gratuitously Naked Conversationalist at the Gym:
• A Peek Inside the Writer’s Guild and Producers’ Negotiations
• We Regret the Error
• Letters from a Homeowner to His General Contractor
• What I Did There
• Hermaphrodite Administrative Assistants and Receptionists Need Not Apply
• Giving Me an IM Account Was Obviously a Huge Mistake
• Official Ransom Note Typography Vista vs. Mac OS X Shootout
• I Need a Real Hobby
• Beat Down
• Big Fat Lies
• True Love
• Now MY Ovaries Hurt
• Don’t Get Her Started
• Disturbing Trend
• Had to do it
• Mooshy stuff
• Ransom Note Typography End User License Agreement “EULA”
• Diva-licious!
• Just so we’re clear
• PETA may have a point

Holy Crap! Look at all this STUFF down here. It's awesome!

Really, I'm glad you made it down here. Almost no one ever comes down here. I'm like in a freaking dungeon down here. I get lonely. But not you. YOU made it all the way to the end of the page. For this I think I've a little crush on you. I don't know, is "love" to strong a word to use in this situation? Well, if it's not "love," then it's very strong "like." I'm totally in like with you for coming down here. You are awesome. Please love me back! I know, I know, I shouldn't be all needy, it's not attractive at all, but you don't know how it is to be stuck down here. Who scrolls all the way to the end of a page anymore these days? Anyway, thanks for shedding some light down here in the depths. I appreciate it. Shoot me an email and I'll send you a dollar, OK?

©2005-2008 Jon B. Deal All Rights Reserved. I'm not kidding around here, I know people who know other people who would be willing to beat you up or similarly infringe on your rights, should you happen to infringe on my rights.