I started my day off at 4:42 AM, wolfing down a leftover turkey sandwich from Subway, taking my multivitamin, my B complex, my allegra, etc. After throwing on some duds, I fought my urge to get back into bed and snore some more. It was a fight. I was down the elevator, walking out through the glassy foyer of our building, and I was still saying to myself, “I don’t want to go.” In fact, I didn’t even want the lady at the desk to let me in once I was standing there in front of her. I was hoping she’d kick me out for some reason. But she didn’t. I had to go in.
Once I got in, I got down to work. I threw lots of metal up and down to work my chest. I did those assisted chinup things for a while. And I did squats with weight. It feels really cool to do freeweight squats with 220 pounds on my back and not complain. Thereafter, I did some lower back work, some core exercises, and a couple dozen pushups, just so I’d go home feeling like I’d earned it.
What a great event, put on by some wonderful people. There were seventy-something runners, and all types. I came in 51st overall, which surprised me. I felt fairly laggy, and thought there might only be a half dozen people behind me. Time wise, I did somewhere around 44 minutes for 4.1 miles, so a little slower than normal for me. (Updated).
Excellent trail in Ravenswood forest in Gloucester, Mass. If you’re in the state and want a neat place to trail run, check this place out. There’s a great mix of singletracks, swampy areas that are fun/tricky, and some great climbing areas. Just generally a great day.
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?