Oh. My. Ehn.
Boot camp has been over for a week or so now, and with the exception of moving between the couch and the kitchen and some weekend Christmas shopping mall walking, I haven't really done much, "physically speaking." Making the decision to run Around the Bay requires a commitment to a 30km training regime, so I seriously need to kick my butters into high gear.
So a friend and I decided we'd motivate each other. Getting back into the early morning groove, we decided we'd get our training out of the way first thing in the a.m. This translates to meeting at 5:30 am for a 12 km run three times a week with increasing mileage every week...
Yeah.
So.
Fingers will tell you I'm not a morning person (unless it's a Sunday morning, and I get to sleep in, and go for breakfast at Rays with Orange for poached eggs--soft--eaten over the latest View Magazine), so I'm not exactly sure what possessed me to agree to this madness. The Gestapo my friend, on the other hand, is permanently peppy, which is is a really good thing and I'm certainly not faulting her for that (in fact, I admire it...) Except at 5:30 in the morning when I'm carrying 10lbs of bloat, and it's misty and foggy, and I've only had 5 hours of sleep, and I haven't eaten, and my ankle hurts, and I only have 3 Kleenexes and I've already used one just running to my friend's house, and I still have 11km to go... (and for the record, Gestapo friend, these aren't excuses... I was a walking/talking hot dog at 5:30 am...)
I hated everything this morning, including myself, running in general, my friend's dog, my iPod play list, the guy I passed on my way out who was on his way in, my pajamas for being warm and cozy, the length of my friend's legs in comparison to my own stumpy peg substitutes... Ugh. I especially loved it when she stopped to do tricep dips while I caught up after lagging behind 99% of the run (the only time I sped ahead was when she stopped to pick up her dog's poo... *thumbs up*)
Needles to say, I'm not gagging to get back on the horse. I'm scheduled to get my @ss kicked meet my friend Thursday morning. Here's hoping I can get my butters in better gear before then. Because "feeling the shame" (to quote Slapshot) twice in one week does nothing for one's self esteem. I might as well be lapped by another unicycle...
5 comments:
If it's any consolation, I wouldn't have made it out of bed at 5:30 am, so you are a hero in my book.
If you were a trainer on the Biggest Loser, I think you would be more Jillian than Bob.
Having said that, I wish you were closer to motivate me to be such a trouper.
But seriously, my baby isn't even up at 5:30. This is sleep time.
I'm not even going to comment on the 5:30am, because that is just ridiculous.
But you do 12km as a normal workout?! I trained for an 8km race once, and was so insanely proud of myself for finishing, I didn't run for 3 months afterwards as a reward.
-hurr_ah
Okay okay, woa. Now, I'm not a mental patient, I promise. I don't usually run 12km. I wouldn't consider that "fun". My usual run is, like, 5km... Maybe 7km, depending on the day. But I knew I could, and I figure if I'm planning to do this in March I need to actually start pushing myself.
As for the 5:30 am, well, it's either:
a) get up in the dark, run, (get another 30 min of sleep in when I get home and fall into bed with Berty), go to work, come home, eat at a regular time, and veg out...
b) get up, work, come home, hum and haw and finally go for a run at night, get home at 7:00, eat dinner at 7:30 or 8:00, and by the time I'm done cleaning up it's time for bed again...
Yuck all around. Cousin Toque has sent me a slap via email, so I'll try his half-marathon training schedule for awhile and see if it improves my mood and my ability. No one wants a repeat of Nasty 5:30 "I feel like a hot dog" Library Lady...
Go away.
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