Commencement

As of this Thursday, I "graduated" from the Couch to 5K program. I did not get a robe or a funny hat. There was no party. I celebrated by taking a bath because running that long makes you sweaty.

I also did not get to make a commencement speech, because there was no ceremony. That would have been awesome, though. I mean, I have some material for a speech about overcoming adversity and also running. I have some good stuff for that sort of speech.

Instead, I have compiled a list of stuff about running I have discovered. Because reasons.

1. It does not get easier. The app progressed, but I was always just as destroyed at the end. I was sweaty, I felt as though I was going to die, and did I actually die? I can't tell. I'm pretty sure I did, at least for a minute there.
2. It gets easier. (See what I did there?) Today I ran with Dad, because he cannot bear to have me out there running without joining in, no matter how painful it is for him. For the record, he ran in a pair of sandals, jeans, and a t-shirt. I did not follow any app, but watched Dad as we ran took walking breaks when I thought he needed it. The resulting walk/run ratio was similar to the beginning of Couch to 5K, only without a lady talking from my iPhone. It was not even slightly strenuous to me. So yeah, maybe it does get better. You just don't notice it until you go on a run with your almost-60-year-old father.
3. It makes you tired. This is an understatement. I have never been so tired in my life, except maybe for when I was a kid and Dad took us to the mountains and we climbed up and up and up thinking we were on a circular trail, only to discover, many hours later, that the trail was not a circle at all and that we had to turn around and walk the whole way back. On the way down, there were poisonous snakes. 
4. It works more than just your legs. Running uses your whole body, and, as a result, you will feel it everywhere the next morning when you try to get out of bed.
5. Cotton is the enemy. When you sweat, cotton clothes stick to you. This is unpleasant.
6. Shorts are the enemy. Heh. If you are like me, and your inner thighs touch and rub together when you walk, slowly wearing out every pair of jeans you own in an indelicate area, you probably should wear running tights, capris, or spandex instead of those adorable Nike shorts that come in all the pretty colors. Give up on your dignity and buy the skin-tight pants.
7. It is possible to run in glasses. I always thought that would be a problem, and it is a bit annoying when you get very sweaty. However, for the most part, you can run in glasses without any difficulty. If it really is awful for you, guess what? There is a special company that makes very sporty looking prescription sunglasses for runners and other athletes. I'm not springing for them, but there you go.
8. You will want to convert everyone you know to the glory of Couch to 5K, because it seems so miraculous that you, who never once passed a presidential physical fitness exam, could ever have done it. And if you could manage it, so can everyone else!
9. It does things to your body's rhythms. Meaning you can schedule bathroom stops. That's all I'm going to say.
10. You start to LIKE running. This is maybe not true while you're actually in the process of running, but after, when you realize how far you ran, how good it feels to have successfully run anywhere at all, you feel like maybe you don't suck. It's a good feeling.

Bonus: I still am not Portuguese. In case you were wondering.

All that being said, I still feel like other runners are judging me and finding me lacking every time I see one on the trail or walk into the running store. I keep telling myself that they're probably as focused on keeping their hearts from exploding as I am while running, but still. That feeling probably won't ever go away.

A Story About a Wasp

My app now has me running over 20 minutes without stopping.

I cannot run 20 minutes without stopping. I keep trying. I can make it 11 minutes. Sometimes I can make it 13 minutes. But I cannot run 20 minutes. Or 25, like I was supposed to run today.

It ended up working out just fine, because this morning I took Darcy with me, and she was not at all interested in running. She wanted to sit on the ground and watch me run, resulting in my running away from her. Then I had to stop and coax her to join me. And I'd run again, and we would repeat the process. Darcy is not used to going out and running at 8:00 AM. She is used to walking around with Mum and being able to sniff everything. It is a leisure walk. More of a stroll than anything.

Poor Darcy. It was even misting, meaning she was getting wet, and she hates being wet.

By the time I was halfway done, I was exhausted, but Darcy was so happy to be going home that she finally decided to run without any begging or pleading. She used her Shetland Sheepdog herding skills to get me home. It was probably good that she did, as I was dying by then.

It's a good thing that I'm about two weeks ahead of where I SHOULD be. That makes it okay that I'm not running 20 straight minutes. But I can't help but worry that I WON'T do any better, and that on race day I'll be gasping my way along, then stopping to walk for the second half. It would be just like the president's physical fitness tests we used to have to take in gym class, only with me all grown up and with more asthma. There will be just as many people staring at me, so I'll get that added humiliation and possible flashbacks.

The last time I ran a mile with people watching, I had been stretching in gym and had no idea I would soon be subject to such torment. I felt a slight tickle on my arm and, thinking it was a strand of my own hair, I brushed it away. Except it was not a hair, it was a wasp.

The wasp, believing I was about to murder it, stung me as my hand approached. When I touched the wasp half a second later (discovering as I did so that the stabby thing was a giant angry wasp), it became lodged in my arm like an insectoid hypodermic needle.

Did I mention it was in the crook of my elbow, right where they always draw blood at the doctor's office? It was there.

One of my fellow students had to remove the wasp for me, as it was stuck and its attempts to walk away or fly were resulting in nothing. Meanwhile, it was still mid-sting, with more and more wasp venom entering what could only have been my veins, since all my blood vessels are right at the surface and easily accessible to wasps and medical staff alike.

The wasp, once freed, flew away. It was probably out of venom by then. It did not come back, meaning it was probably as traumatized as I was after the whole experience.

My arm began to blow up like a balloon.

As I wondered if this counted as an excuse to go to the nurse's office, our teacher led us out of the gym for...the track. Yes, we were running a mile that day. For the stupid fitness test they made us do every year. Spoiler alert: None of us were ever fit.

I asked the teacher if I could go to the nurse's office. He said no. So as I walked out of the building toward the track, I noticed a room I'd never seen before. It was unmarked, and it contained a washing machine, a dryer, and a big ice machine like they have at hotels. This was the best thing I'd ever seen up to that point.

I ducked into the room, grabbed a paper towel from the holder above the ice chest, wrapped a handful of ice up in the paper towling, and went back to join my class.

holding the ice to my arm, I stepped into the hallway again, only to be turned on by the teacher at once. "WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN THE BOY'S VARSITY LOCKER ROOM?!" He bellowed.

"That's the boy's locker room?" I asked. "I was getting ice!"

"Oh." He replied, mollified. "Come on then."

And then I ran a mile while I felt progressively sicker. My forearm was the size of my thigh by the time I was finished. I ran the whole mile clutching the rapidly-melting ice to the spot where I'd been stung.

When I finished (I think at 12-14 minutes), I walked over to where the class was waiting for me and the other two asthmatic runners. I may not have known I had asthma then, but my pace matched the other asthmatics. Tell me that's not a clue.

The teacher wrote down my time and then noticed my arm, which, I reiterate, was THE SIZE OF MY THIGH.

"What is wrong with your arm?" My teacher asked.

"A wasp got stuck in it. It was in there for two minutes or so. And now I have a balloon arm. It feels like fire and my heartbeat."

I was sent to the nurse's office at once. Only, the nurse had already left for the day, as she was only in the school until noon or so. She had also left the elementary school and gone home. She was really, really gone. The secretary, who was also my drama coach, was freaked. But the buses were also leaving, so I was given more ice and strict instructions to make a baking soda poultice of some kind to pack over the sting-mark.

And then I went home. That was the last official mile-time I have on record.

Who had this great idea to sign up for a 5K anyway? Was it me? I don't think I would have done anything that foolish.

Moral support would be greatly appreciated. Either that or chocolate. Or maybe mozzarella sticks. Also wasp repellent, if you have any.

Misery

Jennifer and I went for our run after I finished at the library for the day. This run quite nearly killed me. I was dying, and I had run that distance before. I had run for MORE TIME than the app was asking me to run, and I had done all of it much happier than I did today.

I felt as though I was being murdered.

Jennifer could have left me in the dust, despite the fact that she only runs with me and this is our third run. It is my 18th. Jennifer claims this toughness was brought to her by 5 Hour Energy Drink, but I think it's because she is just plain better at doing all of the things than I am.

What did it was the heat and humidity. I am notorious in my family for being unable to handle drastic changes in temperature. And Indiana has gone from being in the low 60s to the high 80s in less than a week. It's shocking we haven't had terrifying weather. All we had was a thunderstorm and flash flooding. That's nothing. We can handle that. That's like a light breeze is for other places.

Also, someone almost destroyed my car by speeding down a hill on a one-lane road as I went under the one-lane bridge. I was DEEPLY ANGRY. Nobody messes with Francis Focus. He is a happy car and doesn't need his nose bashed in.

I arrived home and cleaned up, ate applesauce for dinner, and haven't moved since. Well, I did play with Darcy. But who could say no to this face?

Heat, Humidity, and Couch to 5K

Right now it is 80 degrees.

At 5:00, it will be 82 degrees.

Right now the humidity is at 68%.

At 5:00, it will drop to a low low 59%.

Jennifer and I are running at 5:00. At 5:00 it will be 82 degrees and the humidity will be 59%. I'm repeating that so that it will really sink in and you'll understand just how horrible that's going to be.

If you don't hear from us, it's because the heat and humidity killed us. We dropped dead in the park. Sorry.

Meanwhile, as I was looking for the heat and humidity e-card because I need illustrations to make my life funnier, I found this, which made me think of You-Are-Portuguese Guy, because I was running by with earbuds and he still thought telling me I have Portuguese eyebrows was a good idea.

And this will be Jennifer and I after our run this afternoon. I mean, we won't become a cardboard sign, but we will agree with the content of the sign. You understand.

And then I saw this and started laughing so hard, library patrons began staring at me, because while I have yet to see anyone attractive during a run (usually I see squirrels), I can pretty much guarantee if I do, I will run away as quickly as possible. I mean, if I run away in the grocery store when I am walking through the produce section with a cart, why would my behavior change if I am already running?

Now, maybe by "pick up the pace" they mean run faster to impress the attractive person, but I am too awkward to think of it that way. In my world, the bottom of the picture just says "Flee."

In Which I Excel at Avoidance

Today I went for a run at Murder Trail, and I saw a familiar truck at the trailhead.

The truck belongs to Mr. You-Are-Portuguese, and I spent the remainder of the run watching for people on the trail that looked 1. Male and 2. 60-ish. Younger males, females, families, bicyclists, runners, and other people who did not match Mr. You-Are-Portuguese's build were ignored and passed on the trail as per usual.

I did actually see him, but I was prepared. I turned around and ran in the opposite direction, then went back and forth between the trailhead and Mum and Darcy. No one has time to put up with that guy, especially not when the humidity is as high as it was today and when tiny gnats are hovering in clouds at eye-level everywhere.

I ate a gnat. It was not on purpose.

Photographic evidence of Mr. You-Are-Portuguese's truck, so you guys don't think I'm making this up. I wish I were making this up:

Fancy New Trail Running Shoes

At some point last week, as I was bending and flexing my Nike Free Runs and listening to the chunks of gravel falling out of the little square treads, I knew I had a choice to make. It was a choice between inconvenience and expense, and if you know me at all, you know I chose to spend the money.

See, the gravel road by my house is so blasted convenient. When I'm not running with Jennifer, I can run on Meth Alley and no one drives by, ever. It is quiet. Sometimes there are deer. It's nice there. Aside from the meth, but that happened late at night last summer, and now the police drive through that area so often, I think Meth Alley is going to get its name changed to "Formerly Meth Alley." The only problem with (Formerly) Meth Alley is the gravel. My shoes are minimalist. That means less cushioning between me and the road, less chunks of rubber and foam keeping me from feeling what I'm running on, less chances for me to trip over giant objects because my brain accounts for my feet, not my feet AND shoes. But the gravel sticks in the awesome tread on my shoes, meaning I am essentially running ON rocks. The rocks become a part of my shoe and I carry those rocks with me until I get home, which is when I spend a good amount of time removing all the gravel and using it to replenish the driveway.

I could choose not to ever run on Meth Alley again, despite the convenience, the pretty scenery, and the lack of scary trucks careening past me at 65mph. OR, I could choose to buy trail running shoes.

I have tried driving out to Murder Trail. It sucks. The drive is 30 minutes both ways, and if I run for 30 minutes, that's an hour and a half out of my day that I could be spending doing something else, like sleeping. Plus, that's gas I could use to, I don't know, visit someplace cool someday.

All this led to the running store and my new fancy shoes. They are made just for trail running, and nothing can get caught in the treads. I know. I did a second run today, after the morning one, just to test them out on Meth Alley, and not a stone got stuck in my shoes and I never slipped on the gravel once.

This is a vast improvement.

Please ignore my ghostly pale skin.

Plus, they are red, which makes me feel faster. Don't they make you think, "The girl wearing these is super-speedy?" Well you're wrong. I'm the slowest runner around. But I try.

The lady at Three Rivers Running Company was incredibly nice. I walked in and sounded way more knowledgeable than I really am. I told her I wanted trail running shoes that were lightweight and airy. She pulled out four pairs for me to try on, with varying degrees of stability. I'm supposed to wear a stabilizing shoe, but I find that type of shoe leads me to fall on my face, so we found one with the lowest amount of correction, enough to help me out but not enough to make me trip.

These are by Montrail and are named "Bajada." I should look that word up but I probably never will. Bonus points for the person who does. They are slightly narrow, which is perfect for my feet, and when I saw the color I thought, "This is so weird that it's COOL." They come in other colors for the less awesome people who choose not to wear shoes that blind other runners.

My skin actually glows in direct sunlight,
like in Twilight only with less bloodsucking.

They really are great to run in, and I'm looking forward to my next opportunity to run in them, which won't be tomorrow because I'm working and then going straight to Indy for a play. But Sunday, hopefully, I will get to go play run.

In Which Laura Runs 5K, Somehow

Well, my toe must be feeling better, because today I accidentally ran 5K.

I went for a run on Murder Trail, and as I ran along, I thought, "Gee, this running section seems like it's taking FOR-EV-ER. Maybe I missed the command to walk? Nah."

I had not skipped walking. No. Instead, I had failed to read the instructions for Day Two of Week Five, which state, and I'm paraphrasing, "Five minute warm-up. Run eight minutes. Walk five minutes. Run eight minutes. Five minute cool-down."

Heh. So I ran eight minutes. And I didn't look at my phone, so when it told me during the walking section that I was halfway done, I laughed at it because the app was crazy to think that only one running and half a walking section was halfway. Halfway was supposed to be mid-second running section, because I thought the day's instructions were, "Five minute warm-up. Run five minutes. Walk three minutes. Run five minutes. Walk three minutes. Run five minutes. Five minute cool-down." But I was wrong.

So I started running the second eight-minute block, still thinking I was supposed to run five minutes, until I passed the two mile marker and kept going. This made me think something was wrong, because I really shouldn't have passed the two mile marker if I wasn't yet halfway done. So I paused the app and checked.

Only then did I realize that I'd run eight minutes with little to no misery. Way to go, me! Only then did I realize that I was two miles from my car and...essentially done running. Great.

So I finished the running block, walked five minutes, then did another running block of eight minutes. Judging from my GPS app, that took me up to OVER three miles of running! This means that, if I can cut out the walking in the middle, I will have no problem running the 5K in June. My body CAN run 5K in one day. I can do it. This is awesome.

In other news, a giant log fell from the sky and took out a section of fence on the trail. I checked, but there were no bodies underneath the log, meaning it did not kill anyone, unless the victims were already removed. This means that nature is not the murderer on Murder Trail. 

(For the record, I will never run on Murder Trail if I see a Camaro parked at the trailhead. Jeremy Clarkson from Top Gear says Camaros are only driven by murderers, and he knows about cars, so he must be right.)

Tomorrow I head to the running store, and the running store people will help me find the perfect trail running shoes, so I can go back to running down Meth Alley by my house. Sometimes the drive to Murder Trail sucks. Also the drive home, when I am sweaty and gross, sucks.

Today when I ran, the temperature rose to over 80 degrees. I have never been so sweaty in my life. I am just thankful that nobody was around to see me, because I bet I looked like Mickey Rourke, only without the steroid abuse. (Although Mickey Rourke sweats while he is sitting down and relaxed. At least I had the excuse of running three miles in 80 degree heat.)

What Life Is Like Toe-day

Yes, I did make a terrible joke in the title. No, I am not sorry.

Last night, as my toe throbbed, I went on Facebook and accosted my friend Erica, who is a nurse (or is about to be, not sure when she graduates). I asked her if toes fall off on their own, or if they just hurt like this in order to convince their owners to break out the hedge clippers and do the job ourselves.

Erica was slightly grossed out by the hedge clipper remark.

However, she told me she thought I had dislocated my toe. She said it probably would feel better in a few days, and that I should ice it in the meantime. She told me removing the toe would not be necessary. It should stay where it belongs. It belongs on my foot, apparently.

I decided to trust her, so I went to sleep.

This morning, it felt SO MUCH BETTER. It was like magic. Instead of having agony that was, like a 9 on the pain scale (speaking as someone who has had their abdomen scissored open and organs pulled out and mailed to the Mayo Clinic, and therefore knows the pain scale well). Today, it is like a 2. In fact, it is only a 2 when I am actively walking around. It is a 0 when I am not walking around.

It turns out, toes are forgiving appendages.

I am still not running today, because if my toe gets angry about the running, I could end up miserable again. I hate misery, so no running.

I also am going to the running store on Friday, where I am getting trail running shoes, because I am not running on sidewalks nearly as much as I am running on the gravel road by my house (Meth Alley), and gravel requires different shoes. Trail running shoes, in fact. Trail running shoes are fancy, because they're designed to make it so you don't feel like you're running barefoot on gravel. My current shoes make me feel like I'm running barefoot on gravel. (It is possible that this contributed to the toe agony.)

I would not buy new shoes, because I am cheap, except my friend Pam made a face when I told her about my road running shoes and how I was using them on gravel, and she gave me a grave warning. The face was something like terror, and the warning involved a story about her foot and the hideous agony that led her to have to buy Vibrams, better known as the toe-shoes, in order to escape horrible pain.

These are Vibrams. They are designed to repel friends and loved ones.

I do not want to have to be in horrible pain. I also do not want to have Vibrams. I am really glad they worked for Pam, but she is normal. I am a freaky weird person, and if I put on Vibrams, I would look even MORE freakish, and I would be driven from society. Possibly with pitchforks.

I also do not want to damage myself, though, so because I Googled lots of toe health things trying to figure out what's wrong with me, I now I have toe-spacers. These are gel insert things that you put between your big toes and second toes in order to encourage the big toes to become straight so that you don't develop bunions or have to have a doctor break both toes for clinical purposes and reset them so they will be straight. I am wearing them now. They feel like flip flops, only the gel is way more comfortable than the average flip flop. You put them between your toes, then put on your socks and shoes to hold them in place.

They are odd. But hopefully they will make my toes look less terrifying, and, more importantly, they will make it so no one has to take a sledgehammer to my feet for clinical purposes. That sounds clinically painful.

Running, a List of Things

• Today I ran for five straight minutes, TWICE, and I didn't even die.
• I also ran for three minutes, twice, and didn't die from that, either.
• Running kills you less than I was formerly led to believe.
• I am still panicking about the 5K I signed up for.
• I considered counting how many weeks of training I can fit in before said 5K, but I became frightened and didn't do it.
• I don't want you to count, either.
• I am already planning to do this.
• You should come run it with me.
• Saturday I run with Jennifer again, and she has until then to decide whether she wants to do the three minute-five minute-three minute-five minute running plan or the one we did on Monday. 
• Let's all stare at Jen until she decides.

Couch to...Wait....No

So I may have done a good, exciting thing. Or I may have done a stupid thing.

I signed up for my first 5K.

For the record, I have never run that far in my life. Also I might die. I am panicking a little bit. Please send help.

Maybe It's a Brain Parasite

Something is wrong with me. After a night of sending Rachael links to hideous dresses, I went to sleep. When I jolted awake this morning, an hour before my alarm, I thought, "Why get more sleep? Why not just go run?"

So I went outside and ran.

Since when am I the sort of person that will shun extra sleep in order to get exercise? What happened to me?

I think I must have some kind of parasite in my brain. That has to be it.

Meanwhile, I'm researching 5Ks in my area so I can sign up for one. Me. A 5K. If my gym teachers from school could see this now, they would probably drop dead of the shock.

This actually is a good reason.

Yet Another Run, This Time with Jennifer!

I conned Jennifer into running with me by being such a great target for serial killers. Today it rained in the morning and proceeded to be cold and a bit windy, just enough to make you want to NOT run.

Yet, we ran.

By the end, I felt as though I no longer had ears and resolved once more to get some kind of warm headband thing, because I can't do that again. This is the second time I thought my ears were bleeding when in fact, they were just fine.

Poor Jen regretted her choice to buy running shorts and not leggings. I mean, the leggings make you look like your legs are saran-wrapped. They do not look good on me. They do not look good on most people. But they have one thing going for them that shorts do not: They keep your skin from freezing off. I think another shopping trip may be in our future.

Somehow, when the run was over, Jennifer did not murder me herself. She may still be plotting this. Also she did not instantly tell me that she refused to run with me ever again. I am impressed by this because even I don't want to run with me again, but I have to because I am going to run a 5K.

I was thinking this afternoon, wouldn't it be nice to run the 5K before I turn 30? That can be the goal for now, until I forget about it or find a better goal.

MAYBE Jennifer will decide to run this 5K with me. MAYBE. You know they do one at Disney, Jen. We could save up and train for many years, and then go to Disney for their race. Think about it. Really, runDisney is a THING.

Oh my gosh. they have an AVENGERS HALF MARATHON. Never mind how long a half marathon is. AVENGERS.

I should maybe not Google things.

Also I downloaded the Avengers Half Marathon training program, because reasons.

Bug Eating and Run #7

I went to Death Trail for my run, by myself again because The Brother thinks W.O.W. is more important than my continued existence. I wanted to try Week Three of the running app before I died in front of Jen. I mean, Jen is tough, but I don't know how she would feel about having to drag my corpse off the trail by one of my legs so that the disc golfers at the park can play through.

And do you know what? Week Three doesn't suck. I don't know why. It is likely horrible, but by some miracle, it wasn't as bad today as it will be later. But I did okay.

Week Three includes a five minute warm-up, * 90 seconds of running, 90 seconds of walking, THREE MINUTES of running, 90 seconds of walking, then you repeat from *, and then you have a five minute cool-down. And it didn't suck.

When I finished the run, I was really proud of myself. I mean, when I was going to gym class every day, I couldn't run three minutes without stopping to breathe. Granted, I had raging undiagnosed asthma and allergies then, but still.

I am still pretty proud of myself.

Also today I ate a salt-and-vinegar cricket. It was like a potato chip, only with more legs.

Photographic evidence:

Photo courtesy of Emily, who is on the right

My face says, "Why did I agree to this, someone save me, I am dying on the inside, what is my life?" Emily's face says, "This was my idea." Jess' face says, "Let's do this!"

Really. Potato chip. More legs.

Running Is Expensive

I own so many tote bags, it is ridiculous. One year I went to BEA, and when I was there, publishers were giving out tote bags with various awesome book covers on them, and I collected tote bags all week until they needed their own suitcase to get home.

So this is not a problem I should be having, but it is.

I have no gym bag. I have no gym, either, because the YMCA in town demands a pint of blood, one lung OR one kidney OR a portion of liver, 1/24th of my yearly income*, and the applicant's firstborn child in exchange for membership. But I am going to start running after work instead of carving out a chunk of every Saturday and Sunday for my run. This will also mean I will be allowed to take a rest day. Imagine that. But to run after work, I need a way to carry my stuff from home to work.

So I pulled all my tote bags out of the closet. First I put back all the ones that lacked zippers, because I don't want my sports bra to be visible to everyone I share an office with. There are six of us in Youth Services at the library and that's about five more people** than I want to see my bra.

Then I was left with five different bags. I put my running gear into the cutest one. Then I tried to put my shoes inside, too. Except the shoes would not fit along with the shirt, leggings, sports bra, and socks inside the bag. So I tried the next bag. Same problem. Then the next. Same problem. All of the bags were too small for running clothes AND the shoes. They were also too small for my work clothes, even if I didn't try adding shoes to the mix.

I thought I'd try a backpack, but I gave all those away when I realized that any future educational opportunity would involve me buying a new backpack because buying school supplies is so exciting.

So now I have to go to Target or maybe the sports equipment store this weekend and buy a gym bag of some kind. This is annoying because if I have to spend money on sports things, I want the money to go toward buying fancy clothes so I look cute before I start running. Cuteness does not last for very long due to the fact that I quickly develop the complexion of a lobster post-stock pot.***

I want one with a separate pocket for shoes, because I think that's cool.

I also want one that will make running infinitely easier. I am told that they don't make gym bags that do that, but I'm going to try to find one anyway.

While I am at the sports store, I am going to find socks not made of cotton in order to prevent the running blister situation from happening again. Also maybe I will find a reason to carry on.

* This is actually true.

** I am the only one allowed to see my bra.

*** Basically, I have to make sure my running clothes match my red face.

Why Running on a Gravel Road Sucks

I hate driving on unpaved country roads. For those of you living in suburbs or cities, I will explain that these unpaved roads are made by dumping and spreading tons of gravel of varying size and loose dirt. The truck then leaves the dirt and gravel just like that. Some of the gravel is actually more like rocks. Some of these rocks are fist-sized or bigger. The county, because these are county roads, knows that traffic will pack the gravel slightly. And maybe, if there's rain, it will make the road settle more and finish making the road for them.

But if there is too much rain, the road washes out. Then the county either ignores the problem or repeats the process.

When it's dry, driving on the dirt and gravel road fills the air with clouds of dust. Your wheels don't have great traction, so you have to go very slowly to be sure you can stop or turn when you want to. On a wet day, your car is covered with mud. So, it's great. Really. Everybody loves dirt roads.

When you're running, you have to watch the ground in front of you in case you encounter one of the huge rocks and cause yourself dire injury. And when you get back from your run and take off your shoes, you notice that you brought a large amount of road home with you, and you have to spend the next few minutes bending your shoes in various directions to get the gravel out of the treads.

If a car happens to go by, you have to breathe in all that dust.

It's pretty awful.

My only other alternative to that tiny country road would be to run on the highway by my house with all the semi trucks and other drivers. It's awful and pretty horrifically dangerous. So I don't do that. And...that's it. No other local places to run. I have to drive almost 30 minutes to get to the trail I really like, which isn't really feasible for days when I have work.

And that is why I'm going to start running after work, in town. We'll see how that goes. Meanwhile, two weeks of my running app are complete. Five more to go.

Another Run: In Which I Suck at Preparation

Today I went for my FIFTH run. This is probably the longest I've stuck with any running program. So, gold star for me.

I went to the trail I like best, but this time I was by myself, so I repeated my earlier warning to The Brother. If I don't come home in about an hour, I've been murdered and call the police. It's a good general rule.

As I ran down the trail, wishing I were dead (this is normal for me while running, I think "Thank God I'm still alive!" during the walking sections), I suddenly saw movement. This thing flew (or was thrown?) over my head, and then it hit a tree next to my face. I turned quickly to look at the tree. And it was a hawk, which had just missed grabbing a very lucky squirrel. The hawk was trying to remain aloft while making desperate grasps at the squirrel, which was rapidly shuffling along the side of the tree to avoid the hawk.

"RUN, SQUIRREL!!!" I shouted. (Really.)

Except there was a man on a bicycle behind me, who had not seen the hawk/squirrel drama unfold, so he thought I was a special kind of crazy.

He terrified me, because I was generally shocked at that moment, pretty much because a hawk had flown inches in front of my face moments before.

"Did you see a deer?" He was a really friendly guy. Probably mid-sixties, and he seemed like he could tell I was about to have my heart explode from my chest. Maybe he had a daughter that was high-strung, and he knew the look.

"No," I replied. "It was a hawk, and it was trying to grab a squirrel."

(That was when my grasp of reality went away a little more than normal. That should have been enough. But my internal narrator is wordy, and it wants all the observers of my life to be aware of exactly what each moment really was like, so they will fully understand me.)

"It was like real-live National Geographic. I hope the squirrel got away. I told it to run. I hope it listened. I have never had a bird of prey fly so close to me before, and I've never seen one grab at prey when I was close enough to HEAR it. I hope the squirrel is okay."

All this happened as the poor man tried to keep his bicycle from going too far forward so he could hear me without actually stopping it and causing it to fall down. It was a fancy bike, you see. With clips. The Yarn Harlot taught me about clips. You clip in, you ride. You have to unclip in order to put your feet on the ground. If you fail to unclip properly, you fall down and bleed at the side of the road/trail.

I think he said something innocuous, like "Wow," or "Really?"

And then I said something like, "That's the great outdoors!" And then he kept riding and I went back to running, trying to put as much distance between myself and the Animal Planet special going on around me.

Also I forgot to bring water on this run. And I forgot to fill my car up with enough gas to get home after driving to the trailhead, so I had to go back to my car post-run, drive into town, get gas, and then buy water. I did all of this while red-faced and dripping with sweat. I was quite alluring. It's shocking that I didn't get any marriage proposals on my walk from the car to the gas station attendant's booth.

To make matters more awkward, I felt it necessary to tell the gas station attendant all about the hawk and the squirrel and the forgotten water. She was patient with me in the same way I am patient with overly-talkative and exceedingly boring patrons at work.

I really shouldn't be allowed to talk to people anymore.

Running, Day Four.

I drug The Brother on another run today. He had a very hard time with the "run" part of running today, but he TRIED. That is the most important thing.

It was day one of week two, so the length of the running sections of the app increased to 90 seconds from 60 seconds. I kept up. Somehow. But here's the thing. This app, which I love, told me what the halfway point was on my last three runs. Each time, the lady said, "You're halfway done." I would then turn around and go in the opposite direction on the trail, so that I can make it back to where I started during the other half of the run.

But this time. This time.

The lady did not say, "You're halfway done." She did not say anything but "Begin running," and "Begin walking." And when I finally broke down and looked at my phone to see what progress I'd made, I saw that I'd done 25 minutes of a 31 minute workout, meaning that I was very nearly finished. And so I just kept going. Why turn around then, I thought, when I could keep going and look at the trail marker to see exactly what distance I was going.

And when I was a mere two minutes away from finishing the cool down section of the app, I took this humiliating picture with my phone. It is a terrible picture taken by someone who does not take pictures of herself ever, because human arms are not made to take pictures of said human's own face. It just doesn't work. I am too old for this particular craze.

What is up with my arm, anyway? My shoulder looks like it belongs on an alien.

I only took this picture to send it to Dad to drive home the fact that I made it two miles. After I took the picture, I proceeded to the sign I saw a bit further down the trail only to find that the trail crossed a road. So then I said, "IT IS A SIGN THAT I SHOULD TURN AROUND." The Brother had caught up by then, and he agreed. I am pretty sure he was already dead at this point.

On the 2+ mile walk back to the trailhead, The Brother and I saw three deer, a squirrel that was angry we disturbed its lunch, and many birds. Also many small insects. Also many people on bicycles, some of which were weird lying-down bicycles that were actually pretty cool to look at, although I think you'd get neck pain from riding on them.

And when I got home, I took of my shoe and discovered running had given me a blister. I am so proud. This is a badge of honor. Real runners get blisters. This happens to people who run a LOT. I think maybe it happened to me because I switched shoes. Or because I was wearing a different sort of sock. One of the two. But I am still proud.

Running, Day Two

Yesterday I went for another run. I left the house. Wind was howling. The temperature was hovering right around 40 degrees. A mist of rain was falling. The warm up was a lie. It was impossible to warm anything.

I wore leggings, a tee shirt, a running shirt, and a fleece because I stepped outside and could not bear it. After a few minutes, I regretted not bringing a hat and gloves. But then I realized my hats and gloves are not designed for running, and are all hand-knitted wool. I may need to 1. knit something different or 2. find something for running.

But it is spring (heh), so that will wait until I see if running takes.

Mum came along, as did Darcy. That was a nice change from last time. Darcy ran at least three times as much as I did, and it seemed as if she was having a blast.

I followed my running app. The lady was evil. She showed no mercy. And I thought I was going to die. Maybe I did die. After a while, it felt as though my brains were coming out of my ears, but I looked when I got home, and I couldn't see any brain matter in my ear canal. Maybe it was blood and not brain. Maybe it was just too dark. It did feel like my ears were bleeding or SOMETHING.

Mum impressed me by running. She did very well. I ended up further ahead than she was, so she couldn't follow the app along with me, but she ran, skipped, jumped, and did other cardio-things as she went along. Good for Mum!

I collapsed onto the ground when we got inside the house. I took off my shoes and then stayed on the floor for probably 45 minutes. Then I sat in a chair for a while longer. And then everyone was eating dinner, so I tried to eat, but it didn't so much happen.

I felt better after a bath, but still. The muscle that runs down the inner thigh? That hurts so much. It's right in the chub-rub area, and it is demoralizing.

And then I got out of the bath and made myself dinner. As I walked over to the table, the fork fell from my plate and landed tines-down on my bare left foot, stabbing me brutally. It drew BLOOD. Debra Lynn from my college saw the story on my Facebook, and she said it was a fitting injury for Holy Week. That first made me confused, but then it clicked inside my run-addled brain and I laughed so hard I dropped avocado on my lap.

Later, as I crawled into bed, I thought I'd look ahead and see what further tortures the app has for me. But then I noticed something. There was only one other workout for Week One. I looked ahead. There are only THREE DAYS EACH WEEK that running has to happen. THREE DAYS. That is all. This means I don't have to run at all until my next day off. No more suffering. No more waking up early. No more holding dinner until later in the evening so that I can run first. No more brain-dead-ness OR brain-melting OR ear bleeds. I am free until Friday, when I have part of the day off. Maybe it will stop snowing by then. Maybe it will not rain on me! Maybe it will be above 50 degrees.

Corpses, Running, and Terrible Rain

I started Couch to 5K again, but for me it is more like Couch, Skip the 5K, Death.

Apparently running kills higher brain function for me and sucks out all energy, leaving me a wasted husk of a person unable to string even the shortest words together to form the most rudimentary sentence. I tried to talk to friends today, but no. Mostly I listened. And then we went to a candy store and I walked out with a box of cookies that was the size of one of my legs, so running seems not to curb my unhealthy eating habits at all.

I went home and ate steak.

Mostly, I find that running makes me want to give up and just lie down on the pavement. I'm sure if somethign really was pursuing me, it probably would want to catch me much more than I would want to get away, so fine. I will let whatever the thing is win, and I will just rest. It's cool. Who can outrun a bear, anyway? No one. It's better not to try.

I am using an app to help me time my running, and the thing started off by having me walk for five minutes. Then it said, "Start Running!" It sounded overly chipper and made me want to kill something. But nature misunderstood and it started raining pretty hard, right then, so my first real run was in the rain. Nothing is worth that. Health and long life are not worth that.

My feelings, post-run:

I ran and walked and part of me died and I don't know how to make that part come alive again everything is melting and terrible rain falls.

— Laura Beutler (@darcybear) April 13, 2014

I should also mention that I had to drive 20 minutes to go run, because I didn't want a repeat of last year's incident involving the semi truck and the harassment. Before I left home, I told The Brother that if I didn't come home in an hour, he should call me, and if I didn't answer, I had been murdered already and he should call the police.

It speaks to how good a brother I have that he did call me, in exactly one hour.

He can share the giant box of cookies I brought home.

There was something dead next to the trail I ran on. I ended up running faster to get away from the stench of rotting flesh. Even as I ran, I thought, "Soon, the corpse on this trail will be mine. No one can survive this." Somehow I did, but this was just the first day. It is only a matter of time. Who runs five kilometers on purpose? I think this is a sickness.

I'm supposed to run again tomorrow, and Mum says she will come with me with Darcy. She says we will run closer to home, but not on the main road so we will be left alone by horrible truckers. I am thinking of dying in my sleep tonight just to avoid this run, but there is a 5K a friend told me about happening in June, and I told Mum, and now she thinks we will do this 5K maybe.

I also forgot to bring water on this run. There was water in the ditch next to the trail and I considered drinking it because I was thirsty. And then I wanted to cry. And then the phone app lady told me I was all done running for the day, but I had not reached my car yet so I had to walk even further than I was supposed to. That's the true tragedy of today, I think. Excess walking.

I thought of taking a picture of myself post-run, to share it with you, but then I said I would rather die than lift my arm above my waist to take a picture, so I just drove home.

There really isn't' anything else to say about today. If you were here, I would share some of the box of cookie with you, if you brought me water. I am still thirsty. It's been hours.

What's Next? Day 31 and Beyond!

Some of you have asked what I will be doing with the blog now that my official 30 days of shredding are over. And since I had barely considered that before yesterday morning when I'd finished the 30th day, I did some thinking.

And I came up with Workout Wednesdays.

I will be continuing to run, continuing with level 3 of 30 Day Shred (I am moving up tomorrow after knit night), and continuing to make healthier eating choices. The only difference will be that I'll be blogging about my fitness quest one day a week instead of seven.

This is for several reasons: 1. blogging every day is sometimes difficult, especially when my schedule is crammed so tight I'm hard pressed to make time for exercise in the first place and 2. after a while, the body gets used to being pushed around and the agony one feels post-workout diminishes. This means that the funny wears off. And what's the use of blogging about exercise if it can't be funny? Me trying to be fit is SUPPOSED to be funny, because me being fit is so...out of character.

I hope you'll still keep up with the horrible things I do to myself in the name of healthy living. Because I have to. And when people say "misery loves company," well...they're right. Somehow, knowing that you're here reading and laughing about my exercise-related miseries makes them more bearable.

See you Wednesday!

Source: reasonstobefit.tumblr.com via Laura on Pinterest