I didn’t run this morning, as I was a bit stiff and sore from too little hydration the day before. I’ll try to sneak in the miles either at lunch and then at dinner, or just in the evening. Or maybe I’ll just do 10 tomorrow instead of this morning. This is the heavy mileage week. It doubles as the week to see if I feel up to bumping my running up to ultra distances in 2005 (even theoretically).
After the marathon, I’ll stop training for running until spring. I’ll still get in runs, but not with a specific plan. In fact, I’ll turn over my planning to burning fat and toning up even more. I’ll work on kicking 30 plus pounds off my frame over the winter. While everyone else is allowing on that magical 10 pounds, I’m going to try and carve up the bird a little more. We’ll see. I’m definitely a guy who loves to eat, and even when I eat good for me foods, I still love eating plenty of them. I’m hoping to use muscle mass and calorie burning to offset my appetites.
I shot for 10 miles at the gym, but I got 8. Why? Because for one, treadmill running is a killer. Two, I wore my non-technical clothing and I got chafed like there’s no tomorrow.
Why is it all running-related chafing seems to happen to various and sundry areas that could also be classified as errogenous zones? Oh my BUDDHA that hurt! I’ve got red spots nearly anywhere someone would claim as frisky territory.
Annalisa had some great comments to my last post, so instead of just commenting inside that post, I figured I’d add another. (Mostly because I was worried my replies wouldn’t be found down there in the mire).
I completely agree that there are food addictions that mirror other addictive behaviors, such as sex addiction, drug addiction, religious addiction, etc. They are all related to the same thing, in my estimation. Shading slightly over the little intricacies of the differences, I believe the root cause of any addictive behavior stems from efforts to self-medicate in lieu of finding a personal stability of being (aka, a good self-esteem).
I was talking via email with a good friend who’s taking on his own fitness challenges. We were discussing how good it makes you feel to really have a handle on things. This relates to conversations I had last night with my wife and yesterday with another blogger friend. The theme seems boiled down to: you have to do it to get it.
Do you get it?
Most anyone who knows me knows that I have a thing about superheroes. My favorite of all time is Batman, because this guy’s got no powers whatsoever, and yet he crafts himself into this machine of conflict. (Shuddup, if you think I’m talking about Adam West and Bif! Pow!) But this is about Superman.
Christopher Reeve died yesterday of cardiac arrest brought on by complications with an infection. He was 51.
The plan was to do 18, but I ran out of water around mile 14, and I was running out of fuel by the middle of 15, so I stopped at 16. I’m not sad about that. It reminds me that there’s a reason I schlepp around that 40 ounce Camelbak on my big runs. I had two 20 ounce hand bottles with me, one with 1/2 gatorade and the other straight water. Unfortunately, I wasn’t thinking as clearly this morning.
So, 16 sweet miles, and one stinky runner when I was done. This after climing two mountains the day before.
Brent asked me about books that motivated me. I made a list at Amazon. Now here’s the thing: I don’t know how, but Kat changed the nickname to “mommybelly,” and I can’t change it back. Whatever. Here’s the link.
So I just browsed about sixty fitness journals. MOST of the journals were started by people (90-100% female) who wanted to lose weight (usually 50-100 pounds), but who had several reasons why they couldn’t or hadn’t lately (no comment). It was discouraging, and yet, I still don’t know what I’m thinking about it all.
Do I want to try and help out? Do I think there’s something I could do to combat the 65% rate of obesity in the US? Could there really be a dent in this number, even if a hundred people went out on a mission to save humanity from itself?
Today was a workout day. I worked hard on my shoulders, my triceps, and my core muscles. For giggles, I ran a mile on the treadmill.
Last night, I played tennis with a coworker. I really love the workout that gives you. Man, it can really get intense.
So, my attempt at 10 miles after the 3rd shift thingy with the 34 degree weather ended up boiling down to only 3 miles. But not for physical reasons.
Instead, I found that I was too worried about losing my car, because I’d parked in a weird location at the forest where the marathon will be, and I just kept thinking, “I’ll NEVER find my car again, and waaaaahhh!!!!” So there.