Confessions of a newbie

WARNING: The following blog contains graphic details of my first all out solo run. These graphic details include slobber, cult references, cat calls, and poop. Reader discretion is advised.

So I don’t know if you’ve heard but there is a new fad that has sucked in many of my favorite people. It’s all the rage, and all I’ve heard about for at least a year now. Running. Not just recreational running, but health nut running. I was able to avoid the vortex for some time but while we were in Chicago I drank the kool aid. I needed to get a gel pack to the Chief. I was at mile marker 13.1, the halfway point and after reviewing the map I decided that I could run to the mile marker for 16 and meet him. But I didn’t have a lot of time. Up to that point he was running sub 8’s. (lingo for less a mile in less than 8 minutes, keep up) So I ran roughly 8 Chicago city blocks to get that marker. Once I got there I texted him and discovered I would have quite a wait. But what I also realized that I felt pretty darn good for haling twigs to meet up with him. After he finished and we met up in the charity tent I got to thinking that I could potentially do this as well; perhaps not the extreme that the Chief does. *Note: The Chief will take any activity he does to an extreme dedication that makes it look like it is his J.O.B. So goes the tale of my first thoughts on running.

Today however my thoughts on running were moving in different directions, or rather stages. There was bargaining, denial, despair and even acceptance. Wait…. These are some of the stages of grief! Oh no!!!

I set out to do two laps around the Bethel Burk Park path with my handy dandy run keeper app on my iPhone. What a gem! I start my activity and this friendly feminine voice comes to tell me “activity started interval 1 minute slow pace”. So nice. This is when I do some speed walking. I get to the corner and I’m immediately irritated that I have to wait for traffic… I realize after the 3rd running interval that I feel like I am sucking air stronger than a dyson! (I don’t have carpet in my house, but feel like I am in love when I see them….) My first thought is I’m not going to get two laps in if this continues. Akon sings in my ear that I am a sexy chic so I push on.
Muse is carrying on about a super massive black hole and I start to wonder if I wouldn’t like one to come down and swallow me up. What was I thinking!? “*chime* next interval 1 minute slow. Time 11 minutes 23 seconds. Pace 11 minutes 23 seconds per mile”. Oh thank you Jesus! And I’m only halfway on the first lap….

Timbaland takes the mic and I’m feeling like I can breath again, and I’m in a groove. Easy peasy! I'm even managing well avoiding the dog piles that I'm encountering. Seriously people, how hard is it to bring a plastic bag? I giggle as I think that my kids would enjoy the humor of me avoiding piles of poop like frogger. The run keeper chick tells me that I’ve done two miles and my pace is 12 minutes 15 seconds I am thinking that I am going to smoke my previous pace. Which means I am a natural running goddess and this third mile is going to be cake! Uh huh...

I start my third mile and strange things develop. Now, I realize that this is going to sound all sorts of wrong but I am producing saliva like a boxer, and my lips are dry. I hate dry lips and I’m wondering if I am going to start drooling like Pavlov’s dog. “Chime. Next interval:slow”. Oh! What took you so long lady!? I took one earbud out and I’m walking… walking is good! I hear, “Shake it” from some fine upstanding gentleman from the community and I don’t think he was coaching me on my style of running. I tell myself that it will be much more motivating on the flying pig route and I get the chime from the run keeper wench that it is time to run again. I’m starting to think that she is just a big bully….

I’ve now made it through the park and I’m on my street. I’ve just got to get up a hill and to the light. My thought wander to the fact that I am still “running” up this hill! My thoughts are then screaming, “Where are you… you…. you bully running wench!? Chime in!”. And she does just as I am reaching the intersection but I decide to run through then walk when I reach the other corner. I. Am. So. Close.

It is at this time that I see a familiar truck and an arm waving. Ah, yes. It’s the running Sasquatch on his way to soccer practice. And I’m walking…. And running. He’s run 3 marathons, he should be able to run to practice… carrying his daughter…. And his gear…. (I kid Tim ;) And I’m HOME!

Toe is sore from the damage yesterday. I’m learning the find art in being obsessed with the length of your toe nails. My knee is a bit tender, but when isn’t it? Two days of cardio and I will try it again on Thursday with the Chief. God help him.

I ran 3.34 miles in 42:07 minutes for a 12:36/mile pace. I guess maybe I did shake it.