Days Off

I haven't been running for the past few days. Tuesday, an early morning at work prevented me. Wednesday, I was too exhausted (I fell asleep on the floor with the TV and the lights on Tuesday night). Today, my ankle hurt. My ankle actually started hurting earlier in the week. I think it might have been because of my sprinting on Monday. I'm not sure though, but have nothing else to blame it on.

If that's not bad enough, tomorrow and Saturday, it's supposed to rain. I feel like I've been obsessing about running and feeling guilty if I don't run or spend too many days away from running. I think my body will quickly revert to its pre-running stages, when I struggled to run across the street without getting winded, and that I'll have to spend more time and effort trying to get better.

What I need to do is to figure out how to work out and do cardio work indoors. Or, I need to brave the rain and run wet.

Sprinting

On today's run, I was too tired to run a full third lap but had enough time to do a little more running. So, I spent the last few minutes sprinting. I sprinted for two blocks, then walked about a quarter of a block, and sprinted for another two blocks.

These last bursts of sprinting were easier to get through than the sluggish jogging. I was energized. I kicked my legs up high and stomped the ground hard. I felt like I was one of those other runners who I enviously see whizzing past me and hoped that the people in their cars would be impressed with my speed and form and all together awesomeness.

I think these sprints weren't as exhausting because I was using different muscles than when I jog. With the sprints, I use more of my upper legs than the lower part. Now, I kinda understand what people mean when they talk about intervals and how it's a good way to get better and faster and run for longer. I'm planning on ending each morning run now with a little bit of speed.

Sweating to the Music

Scott has been gone all week. He's in New Orleans to be the Best Man in his friend's wedding. Not only does this mean that I can shower with the bathroom door open and walk around in my underwear, but I can also turn up the music when I'm working out in the morning.

As sweat is running down my face because of my repitition of arm curls, crunches, squats, lunges, and push-ups against the wall in my living room, I'm listening to Bryce's Birthday Mix Volume III (Friday), Santogold (Saturday), The National (Sunday), and Radiohead (Monday).

6 Miles

For the last three days, I ran/walked/jogged six miles on my morning routine. I go from my house up to the Panhandle, do three loops around the Panhandle, and then head back home. Granted, I probably only run for four of those six miles, but I'm impressed with myself.

I can run about three-quarters of a mile to a little over a mile without walking or stopping, which is an improvement from half a block. My breathing is steady and not strained, as it was when I first started my running routine. But, my legs get tired. My feet feel like cement blocks weighing me down and my legs can feel wobbly let wet noodles.

But, as I've heard more and more often recently, it's mind over matter. If I think it, I can run it. I've been trying to push myself more and more. No stopping until the red light. No stopping until that tree. No stopping until making it across the crosswalk.

It takes me a little over an hour to complete my route, which works out to be 12 minutes per mile. Runners of San Francisco's half marathon must run at pace of at least 13 minutes a mile, which I had been nervous about. But, seeing that now I can run at about 12 minutes a mile and will only get better, I'm much more relieved.

Morning Pains

I went running this morning after a four-day hiatus because of my cold. I started off better than I thought, jogging steadily but slowly and easily managing up the slight slope of Grove Street and past the woman walking. It was cold out and I could feel the air sting my lungs. My breathing felt off. My inhalations and exhalations weren't in rhythm with the sound of my feet against the cement. I tried to remind myself to breathe through my nose and out from my mouth, and to take deeper breaths. But, it hurt.

Then, I felt a cramp in my left side. I have no idea how I could get a cramp. I didn't eat anything and only had water before I left the house. This was my first morning run cramp and it hurt too. But, I powered on. I made my way up Geary, jogging up almost the entirety of the incline. I told myself to jog through the pain because I might have to endure this when I actually run my marathon. When my legs needed a break and I turned my jog into a walk, I felt like vomiting. My lungs felt heavy. I wanted to turn back, return home, and pass out on the floor. But, I kept going, though only walking. I walked most of my second lap.

And, when I felt good enough to jog again, I was able to take just a few strides before my cramp returned, this time on my right side. Tomorrow will be better.

Marathon, Here We Come!

I have never been excited to run, but, today, I am excited to run!

Winnie told me that Tree also wants to run the marathon with us. So, that makes four: me, Winnie, Tree, and Billy. At first, I thought they were all just trying to humor me and had no real intentions of training and running too, but the more we talk, the more I realize that they are committed too. I've totally got a running crew!

Winnie and I were on the San Francisco Marathon's website, reading up about the training program and how we can run and train for free if we raise money for a charity. We also read about how we can start a team if we can recruit at least one more member. So, it clicked: What if we start a work team and raise money for our youth educational programs? We could even run in matching outfits!

Winnie also reminded me that we need to get together a training schedule if we're really going to go all out. I'm going to look into that. In the meantime, she and I both put the SF Marathon training program's information night on our calendar. We're gearing up; we're getting ready to go.

Sick

This morning, I woke up sick. I had a rough night of sleep too. I woke up constantly, feeling thirsty and too warm. I had a hunch this was going to happen. I had been sneezing and blowing my nose the last few days. And, finally, I felt the slight pangs of a sore throat coming on.

I had plans of waking up at 5:30 this morning and going for a quick run before I had to leave for work at 7:15. But, last night, after giving it some more thought, I realized how ridiculous my plan was. And, I'm glad I didn't get up to run. I don't know if I would have made it.

I'm feeling tired and have gotten progressively worse throughout the day. After two good days of running, I'm afraid of what will happen if I take a running break to try to get better. I'm reminded of when I first started up running again in January, when, after just a few days of running, I got sick. Then, after getting better, I got sick again not too long after. I wondered if my body was against exercising and if getting sick was its way to tell me that running is poison to my body.

Now, I can barely stay awake and my whole body is tired. There's no way I'm running tomorrow, and I'm disappointed.

Closet Cleaning

I cleaned out my dresser tonight. Well, I didn't really clean it out, but I re-organized it and went through to find what clothes I could donate to Goodwill. I already have three large bags of clothes I had been meaning to give away in one of my closets but never got around to it, all due to laziness on my part. Most of the clothes in those bags were too tight for me--pants whose zipper I couldn't zip, pants whose waist line could only creep as high as my mid-thigh, shirts whose button I couldn't’t button, shirts that exposed my protruding belly. But, two weeks ago, I tried on some of those clothes again and I could fit in to some of them again and was almost there with others.

As I went through the drawers, throwing my pants and sweaters onto my bed, I tried them on. I couldn't remember when I wore some of these clothes last and couldn't remember why I even spent money on some of them. I squeezed into some of my jeans I wore in college. Some fit, although so snuggly my underwear line could be seen through the fabric. Others fit my hips and thighs, but I couldn't button them.

As I tried on these jeans that I wore years ago, I realized how small I was then. I'm not fat; I know that. Sure, I think I have a few pounds I could lose, but in all respects I'm a healthy weight for my height. But, I always thought I was fat. In college, I thought I was huge. I hated shopping for clothes because pants wouldn't fit and the cute tops were too tight on my body. I could only see my wall of thighs. I thought I would crush my ultra-fit and super-svelte then-boyfriend when I lied on top of him. I couldn't understand why someone who was such an athlete like him would want to be with someone pudgy like me.

Now, as I tried on those jeans that I wore regularly several years ago (well, actually more like 7 years ago) it finally dawned on me how thin I must have been then. I must have been at least ten pounds, but probably closer to 15 pounds, lighter than I am now, which would have put me at 145 pounds for my 5'11" frame. Not fat at all. No where near it. But, I thought I was. Deep down, I still think I am. And, it's painful to realize how deep those scars of being a chubby kid and being told to constantly diet by my mom really run.

There are many reason why I started my More Fit, Less Fat plan and why I started writing this blog about it. But, I think one of the main reasons is that I want to re-claim my self-image and make it my own, to say that I have absolute control over my body and how I view it. And, I'm seeing the changes in my body, my attitude, and my confidence, and I'm proud of the progress.

Not only did I clear out some of my clothes and put them in a bag labelled "Too Big, Give Away" and brought some of the clothes that I thought were too small back in to my wardrobe, but I also re-organized my dresser so that I have one drawer specifically for my exercise clothes--sports bras, shorts, running pants, long-sleeved and short-sleeved t-shirts all nicely folded next to each other. I'm taking charge, and clearing the closet way.

Three Laps

Fridays, I don't have to be at work until 9am and only have to travel to Japantown, which means I have a little more time to exercise in the mornings. Usually, I do two laps from my house to Japantown and back. But, today, because I had extra time and because I feel like I haven't been improving, I told myself I would make three laps.

I still can't run a mile without stopping. I still can barely go any real distance without feeling like my legs are exhausted and about to collapse underneath me. So, this mornings run was to extend my total distance travelled, rather than increasing the amount of time I can run without stopping since I haven't been able to see much improvement in the latter.

As I finished my second loop, I felt good. I was even able to jog up much of the gradual uphill of Grove St. But, then my legs started to feel like bricks. They were heavy and my feet were sluggish. It was tough just getting them off the sidewalk. If I couldn't run or jog the final lap, I would at least walk briskly up to Geary and back to my house. And, I did. The sweat that had soaked my shirt started to cool my body back down. And, my fingers began to get cold again.

I made my way back up the little hill to my house. And, I wasn't exhausted. I could still keep walking. I wish I just do it while running.

Quiet Morning

This morning’s run was more quiet and still than usual. As I made my way slowly up Grove, I could hear the leaves rustling overhead and airplanes flying above and nothing else. There wasn’t a car nor a person on the streets.

It also smelled like fall. The air was chilly, crisp, and clear the way the first days of fall are. For the first time in months, the cold air hurt my lungs with every breath I took, and I was struggling to keep my legs moving, one ahead of the other.

I made my way up the slope of Geary though and rounded the corner to Laguna. The old lady who walks her dog in the early morning was there with her dog, as usual. We’ve seen each other before. But, this time, she said good morning to me and I was able to get those words out of my mouth too. She was the first person I’ve talked to all morning. I think she was also the first person who has ever greeted me as I slowly jogged along.

Foggy Jogging

When I stepped out the door this morning, it was foggy and dark. Even at 6:45am, an hour later than when I usually leave the house, it was incredibly dark and I was a little nervous to leave the house. I actually turned back in to put on another layer since I was only wearing a t-shirt.

I headed up toward the Panhandle. The headlights of the cars flying down Oak St. were trying to cut their way through the moisture in the air. When I reached the park, the street lamps were still on. The orange globe of lights were shrouded in fog. It reminded me of being in London years ago, and walking through the streets at night. But, I wasn't walking through London. I was jogging through a park in San Francisco.

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

Several months ago, I read a piece in The New Yorker by Haruki Murakami, one of my favorite writers. It was about running, specifically, him as a runner. I was surprised to learn that he was not only a runner, but someone who has been running for decades now and has competed in one marathon a year since he started running about 20 years ago.

This weekend, Justin presented me with What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, the book from which that piece was excerpted, for my birthday. It was such a thoughtful gift.

I've been reading this memoir of sorts of Murakami's on the bus. Though the prose isn't what I would hope for from someone whose writing I've admired and enjoyed, it's captivating enough (and easy enough to plow through the pages) that I've almost missed my stop once.

Murakami makes several points about running and why it suits him, which, are some of the reasons why running is growing on me (I wish I was a better runner so that my body wouldn't struggle so much though). It's easy to do; you just put on your shoes, step out the door, and start running. You can do it almost anywhere. And, a point he makes several times, is that you can run alone. You don't need a team or a partner. It's just you and the road. He likes that, and so do I.

I run in the mornings when it's still dark and very quiet, almost eerily so. I wake up at 5:37am and am out the door a little after 6am. There's almost no one out, except for a few people waiting for the bus. It's just me, jogging slowly along the neighborhood, quietly motivating myself to keep going until the next light, the next stop sign, the next lamp post. It's just me and the thoughts circling in my head and the music that I sing to myself. For those forty minutes that I'm jogging, it's just me.

Sweat

I hate being sweaty. It makes me feel gross to have wet arm pits and damp clothes clinging to my body. But, I sweat. I sweat easily. On my walk to work, I sweat; so much so and so regularly, that the first thing I do at the office is pat my face with a cool cloth, take off as many layers as to still be decent, and stand in front of the fan.

But never had I sweated as much as I did today during my workout. After my run, where I already developed a good sweat, I did my usual set of exercises: squats, lunges, and free weights. Not only did I have sweat running down my face and dripping off onto my shirt and the floor, but I also had sweat running my leg. It was so weird. I felt a drop of water at the back of my knee. I didn't know my knee sweated. I realized that the sweat was coming from my lower back and upper thighs and being forced by gravity down my leg to my knee. This was a first. This was yucky.

But, if a good sweat is a sign of a good workout, this one was the bee's knees.

Sluggish

I had a terrible night of sleep last night. I couldn't stay asleep: I had to go to the bathroom; my legs were too warm; my legs were too cold; my ears were itchy. I don't know what was going on. So, when my alarm rang at 5:37am, ten minutes earlier than what I usually set it for (I'm trying to get up earlier so that I have more time to run and exercise before work), it wasn't painful--I was already almost awake.

I popped in my contacts, changed out of my pajamas and into my exercise clothes, put on my shoes, stretched, and headed out the door for my morning run. I start almost impossibly slowly, just barely jogging faster than a walk. I think of it as a warm-up. But, I never really get much faster.

I timed myself this morning, tracking how long I ran at a time and the total amount of time I was jogging/walking. My first spurt of running lasted for four minutes and 40 seconds, an improvement from when I first started but a far cry from being able to run for three hours straight. And, from there, the amount of running time progressively decreased.

My legs started feeling exhausted. I could barely lift them. Even my arms became tired. My swing was so lazy, and for a few strides my arms just hung at my sides. I was getting tired and sloppy. My muscles aren't strong enough and I need to figure out how to build them up. But, for about two blocks of flat sidewalk towards the end of my outing, I ran quickly with my heels kicking up towards my butt and my arm swinging like a pro. And, it felt good, better than the slow jog. If only I could keep it up. But, I'm going to progress into it. The speed variation is apparently supposed to be good for me because it works out different muscle groups.

I got back to my house and tried to do my usual after-jog routine of free weights, squats, lunges, and ab work. I could barely do any of them. My body was just tired. I was tired. I quit after a few squats and bicep curls.

I weighed myself too. I've gained two pounds from my lightest weigh-in just last week. It was disappointing but I know I've been eating more junk over the last several days and that I haven't been running as often over the last two or three weeks. Jo tried to reassure me that I was just building muscle.