I ran for about 45 minutes without stopping this morning around the Panhandle. I left the house at about 6:30am and it was bright enough so that I didn't feel nervous about running through the park. Other people were out too, making loop after loop around the park. We'd pass each other several times, and the smile of recognition I'd give would sometimes be returned. I feel like at some point, I should try to make friends with these people who share the same early morning routine as me.
I haven't run continuously for such a long time in weeks. I wasn't fully confident that I could do it. I was slow going and people passed me, but I didn't really care. I had Prince, the Ramones, Blondie, and Pat Benatar keeping me company and cheering me on.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
1000 Mile Shoes
I was skeptical when Michael said it was probably time for me to get new running shoes. My pair looked fine and not worn out at all to me. But, I referred to my Idiot's Guide to Running Injury Free, which confirmed that running shoes only have a lifespan of about 250 to 500 miles. Even if shoes look okay from the outside, the inside support could be worn down, is what the book said (though a part of me feels like the shoe companies and the running guide companies are in cahoots with each other). I calculated how much I must have traveled in mine. It turned out to be closer to 1000 miles! It seemed impossible, but I rechecked my math and it was totally possible. Scott was surprised too when I told him. He said I could have run to Colorado.
I really like the Asics I have, so I ordered one pair of the Kayano 14 online and asked Sports Basement Potrero Hill to hold the only pair they had left for me. I would come by later to pick them up. So, now, I have two pairs of the same shoe at home (but in different colors, so I can now coordinate my outfits!) and another pair on its way to me. I'm going to keep one pair in my car.
I really like the Asics I have, so I ordered one pair of the Kayano 14 online and asked Sports Basement Potrero Hill to hold the only pair they had left for me. I would come by later to pick them up. So, now, I have two pairs of the same shoe at home (but in different colors, so I can now coordinate my outfits!) and another pair on its way to me. I'm going to keep one pair in my car.
Me, a Model?
A curious thing has been happening recently. People have been asking me if I was ever a model or if I ever thought about being a model. The first time was with my cousin. I home for Thanksgiving, was visiting her work office, and walked by the kitchen where she was having lunch. She didn't recognize me. She thought I was possibly a model there for a photo shoot.
Then, at Jeanne's birthday karaoke party last month, her co-worker asked if I used to be a model. I scoffed and said no. And, she was like, "But you're so tall and pretty."
And, today, as I was taking a lunch-time walk along the wharf, a random guy on the corner started to talking to me.
Random Guy: Excuse me.
Me: Yes.
RG: How tall are you?
Me: Um, in these shoes, six feet?
RG: Really? I thought so. You're tall. You can model.
Me: Oh, I'm not thin enough. [Insert picture of me rubbing my belly here.]
RG: You should.
Me: Um, okay, thanks. Have a good day.
As flattering as it may, I find it all a little weird. Sure, it's nice to be thought of as pretty and lean enough to be a model, but being pretty and thin have never been things I identified with. This is not to say that I have self-esteem issues and think I a hideous tub of lard. Rather, I've always identified with other aspects that I thought more important, like being smart, funny, and kind. I don't think I'm fat either, though that part of me who will always be an awkward, chubby kid rears its head every now and then, but I know I'm not model thin. Standing barefoot at 5'11", weighing 155 pounds, and having a BMI of 21.6, I know that I am a healthy size and that I live a healthy life.
Though people questioning my model-ability may seem irrelevant to my more fit, less fat goals, my more fit, less fat plans have not only been helping me reshape my body but my opinions about it too. I walk a little taller and have even embraced my height more (I wore and danced all night in 3" heels, while towering over all other guests, at Erin's wedding in August). I have been less self-conscious about being seen in my short shorts and tank tops or being naked around other people (I am not going to become a nudist, however). I've been feeling, overall, more confident.
I've been thinking more about these issues because of my students and what I see them doing. I've had teenage girls sit in my office and put on blush or line their eyes with pencil, when they are absolutely beautiful just as they are. I've had girls not eat all day (they'll also refuse my offers of fruit and granola bars, even though we can all hear their stomachs grumble) because they think they're fat, and then they'll wonder why they're tired and can't concentrate in class. I've had smart, outgoing, outspoken girls who are seemingly confident in all other aspects of their life be brought to tears because of their bodies.
I tell them about my story: how I used to be chubby, have braces, be almost a foot taller than all my friends in high school, and was awkward, and how I used to be so shy that I would be on the verge of tears if I ever had to speak in front of class. But, these students see the grown-up version of Susan who has no problem speaking on stage to hundreds of teenagers, who patiently listens to their concerns and helps them think about their futures, who laughs and jokes around with them, and who is stylish, hip, and attractive.
When I started this school year after being away for the summer, Linda, one of the school secretaries, told me how healthy I looked. I told her how I had a relaxing summer, how I started running again regularly, and how I was making a more concerted effort to make sure I was taking care of my body. She responded by saying how I was a good role model, especially for the female students who are so concerned about their bodies. Though I never thought of it, I am a really good role model. Not only did I go to college where many of my students hope to go and am happy doing the work I do, but I live a healthy lifestyle and am confident in myself, my abilities, and my body. I would be more than content if my students, especially the girls, would see me as a role model.
Then, at Jeanne's birthday karaoke party last month, her co-worker asked if I used to be a model. I scoffed and said no. And, she was like, "But you're so tall and pretty."
And, today, as I was taking a lunch-time walk along the wharf, a random guy on the corner started to talking to me.
Random Guy: Excuse me.
Me: Yes.
RG: How tall are you?
Me: Um, in these shoes, six feet?
RG: Really? I thought so. You're tall. You can model.
Me: Oh, I'm not thin enough. [Insert picture of me rubbing my belly here.]
RG: You should.
Me: Um, okay, thanks. Have a good day.
As flattering as it may, I find it all a little weird. Sure, it's nice to be thought of as pretty and lean enough to be a model, but being pretty and thin have never been things I identified with. This is not to say that I have self-esteem issues and think I a hideous tub of lard. Rather, I've always identified with other aspects that I thought more important, like being smart, funny, and kind. I don't think I'm fat either, though that part of me who will always be an awkward, chubby kid rears its head every now and then, but I know I'm not model thin. Standing barefoot at 5'11", weighing 155 pounds, and having a BMI of 21.6, I know that I am a healthy size and that I live a healthy life.
Though people questioning my model-ability may seem irrelevant to my more fit, less fat goals, my more fit, less fat plans have not only been helping me reshape my body but my opinions about it too. I walk a little taller and have even embraced my height more (I wore and danced all night in 3" heels, while towering over all other guests, at Erin's wedding in August). I have been less self-conscious about being seen in my short shorts and tank tops or being naked around other people (I am not going to become a nudist, however). I've been feeling, overall, more confident.
I've been thinking more about these issues because of my students and what I see them doing. I've had teenage girls sit in my office and put on blush or line their eyes with pencil, when they are absolutely beautiful just as they are. I've had girls not eat all day (they'll also refuse my offers of fruit and granola bars, even though we can all hear their stomachs grumble) because they think they're fat, and then they'll wonder why they're tired and can't concentrate in class. I've had smart, outgoing, outspoken girls who are seemingly confident in all other aspects of their life be brought to tears because of their bodies.
I tell them about my story: how I used to be chubby, have braces, be almost a foot taller than all my friends in high school, and was awkward, and how I used to be so shy that I would be on the verge of tears if I ever had to speak in front of class. But, these students see the grown-up version of Susan who has no problem speaking on stage to hundreds of teenagers, who patiently listens to their concerns and helps them think about their futures, who laughs and jokes around with them, and who is stylish, hip, and attractive.
When I started this school year after being away for the summer, Linda, one of the school secretaries, told me how healthy I looked. I told her how I had a relaxing summer, how I started running again regularly, and how I was making a more concerted effort to make sure I was taking care of my body. She responded by saying how I was a good role model, especially for the female students who are so concerned about their bodies. Though I never thought of it, I am a really good role model. Not only did I go to college where many of my students hope to go and am happy doing the work I do, but I live a healthy lifestyle and am confident in myself, my abilities, and my body. I would be more than content if my students, especially the girls, would see me as a role model.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Day Two
Day Two of More Fit, Less Fat Revived:
My schedule is slightly ridiculous. I set the alarm for 5:15am since I thought I had to be in a classroom making a presentation at 8am (it turned out that I had the time wrong but didn't figure it out until I was standing outside an empty classroom). When I woke up, I thought I heard the sound of rain. I peaked through the blinds and it didn't look like rain. I remembered my new motto--don't think, just go--and forced myself to get dressed. Stepping outside, it looked like it must have rained during the night but there were breaks in the clouds. (I did get a little wet as water dripped on me from tree tops and power lines. And, as I was finishing my last half mile, it started to drizzle.) I locked the door and started up the little hill.
It was really dark this morning, and so early that all the street lights were still blinking red. When I reached the Geary pedestrian bridge, a man who was camped out underneath was talking and was a little scary, so I ran as fast as I could past him and up Geary. As safe as I think I am when I'm doing my morning runs and as aware as I am of my surroundings, I know that running in the dark when almost no one else is out is totally not safe. But, this was the first time when I thought I had to run away from something or someone.
Anyhow, I hit a bit of a stride, where my breathing felt in synch with my body and things just felt right, which was a nice change of pace from the feelings of ache and wanting to vomit of yesterday. As I started my third loop, I saw the hill leading up to Fillmore and, for once, I actually thought running up it would be good. I didn't though. But, soon, I'll be powering up the Hayes Street Hill. I can do it. Maybe not now, but soon I'll be charging up hills. Absolutely.
And my musical selection for today, while Scott and Ralph are still gone, was The Velvet Underground.
My schedule is slightly ridiculous. I set the alarm for 5:15am since I thought I had to be in a classroom making a presentation at 8am (it turned out that I had the time wrong but didn't figure it out until I was standing outside an empty classroom). When I woke up, I thought I heard the sound of rain. I peaked through the blinds and it didn't look like rain. I remembered my new motto--don't think, just go--and forced myself to get dressed. Stepping outside, it looked like it must have rained during the night but there were breaks in the clouds. (I did get a little wet as water dripped on me from tree tops and power lines. And, as I was finishing my last half mile, it started to drizzle.) I locked the door and started up the little hill.
It was really dark this morning, and so early that all the street lights were still blinking red. When I reached the Geary pedestrian bridge, a man who was camped out underneath was talking and was a little scary, so I ran as fast as I could past him and up Geary. As safe as I think I am when I'm doing my morning runs and as aware as I am of my surroundings, I know that running in the dark when almost no one else is out is totally not safe. But, this was the first time when I thought I had to run away from something or someone.
Anyhow, I hit a bit of a stride, where my breathing felt in synch with my body and things just felt right, which was a nice change of pace from the feelings of ache and wanting to vomit of yesterday. As I started my third loop, I saw the hill leading up to Fillmore and, for once, I actually thought running up it would be good. I didn't though. But, soon, I'll be powering up the Hayes Street Hill. I can do it. Maybe not now, but soon I'll be charging up hills. Absolutely.
And my musical selection for today, while Scott and Ralph are still gone, was The Velvet Underground.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
No More Thinking
I think I found my new motto: Don’t think, just go. (I feel like an exclamation point at the end of that motto doesn’t suit my style.) It helped me get out of bed this morning when the alarm rang at 5:31am. Yes, I lied in bed for a minute, contemplating the cold and whether or not it was too wet outside. And, yes, there was a bit of lolly-gagging and wishy-washy before I wrangled myself out from under the covers. But, ultimately, I told myself to stop thinking about running and just do it (especially after having read this article last night and feeling like such a loser in comparison), and was out of the house at a quarter ‘til six.
Once I started jogging, and the feeling of wanting to vomit passed and the dull pain in the middle of my back so dreadful that I wanted someone to sock me at that exact spot subsided, it was actually quite pleasant to be starting back up with my routine that I left so long ago. And, it was a lovely, quiet morning. Jogging along Grove, the only sound I heard was my footsteps against the damp sidewalk. As I crossed Fulton and looked east, City Hall looked gorgeous as its dome showed just the slightest bit of glimmer as the sun was starting to peak out through the dark rain clouds. The air smelled clean and was warm as I concentrated on my breathing.
I forgot how, despite all my recent griping, I actually enjoyed waking up, going for my jog, and having a little bit of time in the morning with just my thoughts. There were no distractions, no one else around to have to talk to, and nothing to think about other than moving forward, watching out for cars, and avoiding uneven sidewalk. I remembered how I spent those cold, dark mornings in November and December thinking about my future plans and outlining essays in my mind as I made my way up to Japantown and back. Today, as I made three loops of my J-town to home route, it was nice to feel like I was getting back on track with the goal I set for myself about a year ago of running the San Francisco Half-Marathon.
As a special treat for me this morning, I got to turn the music up loud in the living room as I did crunches, lunges, squats, push ups, and stretches since both Scott and Ralph were gone. MGMT is great in the mornings.
And, super bonus points for me today since, not only did I run, I also did 45 minutes of yoga after work. Way to go, me! More fit, less fat, here I come, again!
Once I started jogging, and the feeling of wanting to vomit passed and the dull pain in the middle of my back so dreadful that I wanted someone to sock me at that exact spot subsided, it was actually quite pleasant to be starting back up with my routine that I left so long ago. And, it was a lovely, quiet morning. Jogging along Grove, the only sound I heard was my footsteps against the damp sidewalk. As I crossed Fulton and looked east, City Hall looked gorgeous as its dome showed just the slightest bit of glimmer as the sun was starting to peak out through the dark rain clouds. The air smelled clean and was warm as I concentrated on my breathing.
I forgot how, despite all my recent griping, I actually enjoyed waking up, going for my jog, and having a little bit of time in the morning with just my thoughts. There were no distractions, no one else around to have to talk to, and nothing to think about other than moving forward, watching out for cars, and avoiding uneven sidewalk. I remembered how I spent those cold, dark mornings in November and December thinking about my future plans and outlining essays in my mind as I made my way up to Japantown and back. Today, as I made three loops of my J-town to home route, it was nice to feel like I was getting back on track with the goal I set for myself about a year ago of running the San Francisco Half-Marathon.
As a special treat for me this morning, I got to turn the music up loud in the living room as I did crunches, lunges, squats, push ups, and stretches since both Scott and Ralph were gone. MGMT is great in the mornings.
And, super bonus points for me today since, not only did I run, I also did 45 minutes of yoga after work. Way to go, me! More fit, less fat, here I come, again!
Monday, February 23, 2009
Motto Matters
I've been struggling to get up and go running for more days than I should. Every morning for the last few weeks, I've been battling with wanting to stay under the warm covers and knowing that I should put on my running shoes and head out the door. And, with Billy and Tree having dropped out of marathon training, it's just up to me and Winnie to figure out how to keep each other going mile after mile.
So, I've been thinking of new mottos, motivational sayings, and battle cries that I can tattoo in my mind (and maybe up and down my arm) to keep me going. This is what I've got so far:
Fired up, ready to go!
You can do it!
Just do it!
Put your mind to it!
Never give up!
No pain, no gain! (Yuck!)
Work hard, play hard! (Double yuck!)
Push out the jive, bring in the love.
We will, we will, rock you!
If you build it, they will come.
I'm not happy with any of these. They don't fit me. I'll need to think a little more about this.
I've also been contemplating creating a Vision Board, a la The Secret. I can't believe I've stooped so low.
So, I've been thinking of new mottos, motivational sayings, and battle cries that I can tattoo in my mind (and maybe up and down my arm) to keep me going. This is what I've got so far:
Fired up, ready to go!
You can do it!
Just do it!
Put your mind to it!
Never give up!
No pain, no gain! (Yuck!)
Work hard, play hard! (Double yuck!)
Push out the jive, bring in the love.
We will, we will, rock you!
If you build it, they will come.
I'm not happy with any of these. They don't fit me. I'll need to think a little more about this.
I've also been contemplating creating a Vision Board, a la The Secret. I can't believe I've stooped so low.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Changing It Up?
I took a walk along Crissy Field today after work, figuring that I should have some sort of physical activity since I hadn't done much all week because of the rain, the cold, and my slight cold. It was beautiful and still sunny and warm when I got out there. There were quite a number of people lying on the beach, riding bikes, and running along the water. I wasn't wearing the proper walking gear (I had on my work clothes) and my feet started to hurt. But, I made my way to the Bridge (or as close as I could get to it) and back.
It has been difficult getting motivated to run over the last few weeks. I blame it on the winter doldrums. But, I know I am regressing in my marathon training. I'm getting worse, and I feel like in no time at all, I'll have to start over from the beginning with the training. So, perhaps it's time to change up my routine. Maybe I should start running in the evenings (I used to only run in the evenings when I was living in Berkeley). Maybe I should change my route. Maybe I should run every evening after work from the school, to the Bridge, and back, or maybe just along Crissy Field.
I think I'm going to start by leaving extra running gear (clothes, shoes, and water) in my car since there has been more than one occasion when I wished I had them with me so that I could go for a run and didn't. I think it's a good start.
It has been difficult getting motivated to run over the last few weeks. I blame it on the winter doldrums. But, I know I am regressing in my marathon training. I'm getting worse, and I feel like in no time at all, I'll have to start over from the beginning with the training. So, perhaps it's time to change up my routine. Maybe I should start running in the evenings (I used to only run in the evenings when I was living in Berkeley). Maybe I should change my route. Maybe I should run every evening after work from the school, to the Bridge, and back, or maybe just along Crissy Field.
I think I'm going to start by leaving extra running gear (clothes, shoes, and water) in my car since there has been more than one occasion when I wished I had them with me so that I could go for a run and didn't. I think it's a good start.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Foiled by Marathoners
I struggled to get out of bed this morning. Monday was the last day I went running. All week, I hadn't been able to sleep through the night and, so, thinking sleep trumps exercise, I gave up exercising time to sleep, even though I lied awake thinking that I might as well get up to run. So, after falling asleep at 9:30pm Friday night (with the lights still on and me still fully dressed) and taking a nap Saturday afternoon, I told myself that I should be ready for a morning run Sunday.
Sunday morning came. I managed to get out of bed and started my climb up Oak to the Panhandle. Approaching the Panhandle, I noticed that something was wrong. There were no cars. As I got even closer, I saw that the streets were blocked off and there were police officers and high school aged people standing in the middle of the intersections. I got about half a block into my run when I noticed a 2 mile sign on Oak. It was the marathon that people all week were asking me if I was running.
I wasn't really running it, but when I reached the tip of the Panhandle that takes you into Golden Gate Park, I saw a mass of runners streaming out and heading straight for me. I turned and headed back east along the Panhandle and this crew of hundreds of people were running my direction too. I felt silly that we were all running together in the same directions, except they were running on Fell Street and I was running about twenty feet away from them in the park.
I decided to stop my jog and cross over to the other side of the Panhandle so that I could watch them approach. The runners in front looked amazing. They were running with such ease and grace. Their form was natural and relaxed. Their muscles were prominent without being bulky. Their bodies were trim. I wanted to be one of them but knew that I had tons of work to go before I would look and run like them.
After a few minutes of watching these runners, I decided to keep running, this time in the opposite direction of them. When I made it to the eastern end of the Panhandle where I would turn to head west, I realized that I couldn't. These runners got off the street and into the park. They were running in my space and there was no way I could get past them. Foiled! But, whatever. I wasn't going to be stopped so I cut across the muddy grass. I ran for maybe another minute before I felt ridiculous. I should just give up running for today, and I did. All the more serious runners had already passed me and I was able to make my way out of the Panhandle, among the slower runners, onto Fell, and across to the sidewalk on the other side.
I started to walk back home but stopped at a street corner to watch the walkers and joggers be cheered by some volunteers and friends. These people didn't have runners' bodies. They weren't trim. They didn't have protruding muscles. Instead, some of them had bellies and some extra weight. But, they had smiles on their faces when they were being cheered on and they were making their way through this race, just as the faster half-marathoners were. And, I thought that if these people, who were older than me and looked less fit than me, could be out running/walking 13.1 miles, so could I.
Sunday morning came. I managed to get out of bed and started my climb up Oak to the Panhandle. Approaching the Panhandle, I noticed that something was wrong. There were no cars. As I got even closer, I saw that the streets were blocked off and there were police officers and high school aged people standing in the middle of the intersections. I got about half a block into my run when I noticed a 2 mile sign on Oak. It was the marathon that people all week were asking me if I was running.
I wasn't really running it, but when I reached the tip of the Panhandle that takes you into Golden Gate Park, I saw a mass of runners streaming out and heading straight for me. I turned and headed back east along the Panhandle and this crew of hundreds of people were running my direction too. I felt silly that we were all running together in the same directions, except they were running on Fell Street and I was running about twenty feet away from them in the park.
I decided to stop my jog and cross over to the other side of the Panhandle so that I could watch them approach. The runners in front looked amazing. They were running with such ease and grace. Their form was natural and relaxed. Their muscles were prominent without being bulky. Their bodies were trim. I wanted to be one of them but knew that I had tons of work to go before I would look and run like them.
After a few minutes of watching these runners, I decided to keep running, this time in the opposite direction of them. When I made it to the eastern end of the Panhandle where I would turn to head west, I realized that I couldn't. These runners got off the street and into the park. They were running in my space and there was no way I could get past them. Foiled! But, whatever. I wasn't going to be stopped so I cut across the muddy grass. I ran for maybe another minute before I felt ridiculous. I should just give up running for today, and I did. All the more serious runners had already passed me and I was able to make my way out of the Panhandle, among the slower runners, onto Fell, and across to the sidewalk on the other side.
I started to walk back home but stopped at a street corner to watch the walkers and joggers be cheered by some volunteers and friends. These people didn't have runners' bodies. They weren't trim. They didn't have protruding muscles. Instead, some of them had bellies and some extra weight. But, they had smiles on their faces when they were being cheered on and they were making their way through this race, just as the faster half-marathoners were. And, I thought that if these people, who were older than me and looked less fit than me, could be out running/walking 13.1 miles, so could I.
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