Much better run this morning, which is funny because my mental critic was very vocal about not wanting to go out. There were piles of excuses, but I just nodded to each of them the way you do well-meaning relatives who load you up with diet advice upon learning that you’re losing weight.
I ran alongside Lake Gardner, a little drink of water that feeds the Powwow river. The temperature was just a hair below shirt-soaking. I ran past big homes overlooking the water, each with a manicured lawn and sprinklers fit-fit-fit-fit-fit.
Here’s the playlist of music I listen to occasionally while running:
Session- Linkin Park (from Matrix 2). My warmup.
Inner Vision- System of a Down. Get running.
I Come From the Water- The Toadies. Move.
Rollin’ – Limp Bizkit. (Sensing a theme, energy-wise?)
It’s the End of the World As We Know It – The Suicide Machines (punk).
One Vision- Queen (Bug’s Dad will appreciate that song)
Crazy – Seal.
Payback- Fatboy Slim.
Without Me.- Eminem.
Sugar- System of a Down.
Start the Commotion- Wiseguys.
Belleville Rendez-Vous.- Triplets of Belleville
Gimme the Prize- Queen. (From Highlander)
Nuguns- System of a Down.
When the World Ends.- Dave Matthews (Paul Oakenfold remix from Matrix 2). Cool down.
I’m a former fat guy. Sure, I’m still 30 or more pounds overweight. I’m 40 pounds overweight according to the national standards. But when I look at myself, I see a fairly fit guy who’s got some pounds on that need to come off.
That’s a first.
Seeing as I’m without a pedometer, I have been guessing my mileage by time. I’ve been assuming a slow pace to be 12 minutes a mile. Guess not. Today, when I was done running, I went to the car and traced out the route. Instead of 3.5 miles, I’d done 3.1 in just under 40 minutes. Whoopsy. That’s a little slow, even for slow me.
I think I’ll give the treadmill a whirl at lunchtime and get a better feel for a 12 or 11 minute pace.
Last night on that four mile run, I wanted to stop somewhere around 20 minutes into the run. I was going around a track, and I’ve learned that tracks are evil to me. They keep me fitfully aware of all that time passing, and I can’t stand them.
And yet, I persisted.
I just got back from another 4 mile run. This is the thing: I have this urge to do double workouts every day that I’m working out, and I used to think this was horribly bad. Only now, I’m finding supporting information.
This month’s runner’s world has a profile of a woman who does ultras and the like. She runs six miles at a pop three or four times a day to practice up the mileage she needs. Thomas Jane, the actor who plays The Punisher, trained twice a day, with six hours rest in between, to get as buff as he needed to become the main character.
I have now officially destroyed my 5th Walmart pedometer. I wear them against my ankle and I guess my sweat doesn’t do them much love. At 2.60 miles, it died, but stayed showing that number for the next mile and a half. To mark out 4 miles, I ran for 50 minutes, which was four 12-minute miles plus a little on top for just in case. Rats.
The run was nice. I was a bit chilly but just the same, I endured and enjoyed. I saw some kind of bird that looked like a football with a black drinking straw sticking out of its nose. I ran by the new gym that’s offering $10 monthly memberships (strip mall sized and not exceptionally impressive). And the sun was doing beautiful things to the sky and to people’s chemically-perfect lawns.
I did 2 miles on the elliptical machines at the gym this morning. Man, I finally figured out how to use them. You jump on and watch whatever TV is playing in front of you, and you DON’T PAY ATTENTION to the mechanics of the movement. If you do, you immediately get messed up.
Anyhow, that’s how I did it.