I don't know what morphine does, but I imagine something like this.

Last night, for the first time in my life, I experienced the elusive runner’s high.

I think.

It didn’t last for very long, but let me tell you, it was – excuse my language here – fan-fucking-tastic.

I guess my motivational speech yesterday worked, because even though I wasn’t even ready to head out yesterday until 5:50, and I was expecting a guest at 6:45, I knew I couldn’t skip my run. So I laced up and headed out the door.

My intervals were eight minute runs, one minute walks. It’s longer than I’ve run continuously for more than three years. Eight minutes might not sound like a very long time, but it’s a lot longer than it seems, and one minute isn’t a very long recovery either.

The trail by my house goes through a nice little nature preservation area, behind some baseball fields, and over a major road. Usually I would hit the last baseball field before the bridge that went over the road and it would be time to turn back.

Not this time.

My runs were a little longer, meaning that my distance was further. And the farther I got, I started to realize: I was going to have to run over the bridge.

These pictures are very, very lame. The first one is the view from the top, looking down, and the second is a terrible one of the bridge from the road. I’ll have to take my camera out one day and take pictures for all of you. But trust me, these do nothing to show the true horror of how hard the bridge is to run. After it curves in that first picture, it still drops quite a ways before it hits flat ground again at sea level.

At first, I thought I would just walk up the bridge, then run down. After all, even riding my bike over this thing can be pretty tough, let alone actually propelling my short and stubby legs up it. But I didn’t want to wimp out, and glancing at my watch, it seemed that I had just enough time left on my current interval to reach the top of the hill.

My climb started pretty slow, I’ll admit. But once I got about half way up, I felt amazing. I picked up speed. Before I knew it, I was practically sprinting to the top. I finished out my minute and I felt amazing. I was on a bridge suspended over a highway, watching the cars and trucks pass below. I wanted to jump up and down. I passed a woman walking and couldn’t wipe the huge grin off my face. I’m sure she thought I was on drugs, and it felt like I was.

I can’t remember the last time I felt so good while I was exercising.

Then my minute of walking was up. It was back to running, and about two minutes into the new run I started to feel crappy again. Running was hard, and I forgot for a moment how great it felt to accomplish something that had once seemed so impossible. I thought about not doing eight minutes; since I had actually run up the hill, maybe I could get away with only doing six.

But I did my eight, and then instead of finishing with three, like I was supposed to, I finished with five minutes. I felt great.

I had to call my friend because I was running behind. I couldn’t put any makeup on for when we went out because my face was bright red.

But I felt great.

I hope that I can hold on to that feeling, and always remember how amazing it felt to stand on top of that bridge, as if I were on top of the world, feeling as if I finally was a runner.

Motivating the masses

Today I need some motivation.

I’ve hit a bit of a rut, and after a great week of training, I skipped Thursday, rode bikes instead of ran on Saturday, and skipped Sunday. I have very limited time tonight since I’m planning an AWESOME night out with my lady friends, so I need to basically change into my clothes and get going as soon as I get home.

I also know there are some other runners who are reading this blog. (I thought about doing shout-outs, but I didn’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable, or make it obvious that someone who had said they were reading my blog wasn’t actually reading, then when I said, ‘Hey, Sally, did you see that I mentioned you in my blog?’ Sally would get all awkward because, since she only said she was reading my blog to be polite, she hadn’t actually noticed that I mentioned her, and she wouldn’t know in what capacity, so she wouldn’t know what to say and things would just get painful.) So in my effort to motivate the masses, including the mass that is my lazy butt, I have gathered some of the most motivational running articles I could find.

The story of Matt Long. Are you kidding me? How could I ever complain about aching, say I don’t feel like running, or lay around all day when it’s nice and breezy out. Sure, this guy was a great athlete before his accident, but wow…there’s no excuse for an 8-9 hour marathon time for me, but he has a great one.

The Newbie Chronicles. A series almost as funny as mine. OK, actually they’re probably funnier, and very honest.

Team Hoyt. This links to their bio page, so you can read about the amazing story of this father/son team. Dad pushes his son - literally, because his son is in a wheelchair - through marathons and triathalons. What an amazing bonding experience it must be for both of them. They've been doing it for a very long time, and Dad is still going strong at 65!

Dawn Dais’ Web site. A first-timer who wrote a book about her experience. She reminds me of myself, a little. Of course I don't have a book deal. Yet. (Hey! All you publishers reading this! Now's your chance! Email me with a multi-million dollar deal! I promise I won't let you down! Heck, at this point I'd probably do it for $20...)

And some completely cheesy running cartoons:

Since I’m currently in love with LOST:
And because I often wonder why I do it:

Source: www.savagechickens.com

And I don’t know why I think this is so hilarious, but…

Hopefully this works. I can feel myself excited already. And it's only 85 degrees out! Maybe by 5:30 it will have cooled off...

Or maybe I'm delusional.

Confessions of a fat kid

I have a confession to make.

This is totally not related to running at all. It is related to eating, however, which is my other hobby, and since eating is nearly synonymous with nutrition, I figure we can let this one slide.

The other night I went grocery shopping and decided that I could get myself a treat. I’ve been doing pretty well with my training, and I promised myself that I would work hard that night (and I did).

I headed over to the bakery department. For those of you who don’t live in the vicinity of a Publix…my deepest regret for your loss. The Publix bakery department is amazing. We would have gotten our wedding cake there if Jae’s cousin wasn’t a master baker.

After perusing my options for a few moments, I settled on the yo-yo.

The yo-yo is a delectable treat. My friend Katey and I used to get them all the time. Then we decided that one each just wasn’t enough, so we would buy a dozen cookies and some icing and make them ourselves. Then we got old and our metabolisms slowed down. Now we drink wine and eat salads.

Anyway, I asked the baker for one, filled the rest of my cart with fruits, veggies, chicken and whole grains, and checked out.

At this point I should mention that I live literally three minutes from my local Publix. I can walk there. I have ridden my bike there on numerous occasions. So what possessed me to do the following, I’ll never know.

I unloaded all of my groceries into my trunk until only one bag remained in my cart. The bag containing that glorious hunk of sugar and chocolate.

I brought it into the car with me, turned on the engine, and popped open the lid. Immediately, my entire car filled with the deliciously sweet smell of frosting. My teeth were falling out of my gums just thinking about eating this.

Waiting was not an option.

I picked up my cookie sandwich with one hand and took a bite. It was all that I hoped it could be and more. It was gooey and satisfying, and the icing was spilling over the edge of the cookie. It was hot out, hovering near 90 degrees, and the chocolate was melting fast.

But I was eating faster.

And then it happened.

I dropped the cookie sandwich.

On my yellow dress.

Melty chocolate chips and icing fell all over my car, my hands, and my soft cotton dress. As I continued to drive, my steering wheel was covered in the sticky mess.

Ugh. This is what I get for not eating properly. Or just not being able to contain myself.

Oh well. It was totally worth it.

In other, less delicious, news, I started the 100 push-up challenge! Sort of. I did the initial test anyway. Are you ready for this totally embarrassing number?

Six.

OK, maybe that’s not so bad. But I think my form was way off. I think I could have done more, but on the last one I thought my knees hit the ground before I came back up, and I figured that counted as a disqualification.

My wedding is in a month! Exactly 30 days from today. So maybe I should stop spilling cookies all over myself and start doing more pushups.

It’s a beautiful breezy day here. A nice day for a run.

It's Gettin's Hot In Herrrre

The famous poet and scholar Nelly once said, “It’s gettin’ hot in herrre.”

Man, was he right.

This weekend, I went for a run around 3:50pm. True, this is one of the hottest parts of the day, but I run on a trail that is pretty shaded (or so I thought), and there was a nice breeze out. Besides, it’s just Florida. In April. How hot can it be, right?

Eighty-six degrees, that’s how hot.

That doesn’t sound that bad. It’s not even 90! But let me tell you, friends, 86 degrees is really freakin’ hot.

To make matters worse, about half way through the run, my iPod froze. Again. (Forget all the nice things I said about it before; I am soooo ready for a hardware update.)

So instead of focusing on the musical stylings of Me First and the Gimmie Gimmies, all I could think about was the sweltering heat. The sweat pouring down my face. The ever-approaching feeling that I was going to pass out and die from heat exhaustion, which wasn’t at all helped by the fact that I had just read an article on RunnersWorld.com about that very thing happening to someone who was in much better shape than I am.

But somehow I powered through and made it home, plopped on the floor, and begged Jae for a cold glass of water and an ice pack for the back of my neck. I cooled off quickly and felt really good; I had actually gone pretty far. Still, lesson learned: DON’T RUN WHEN IT’S HOTTER THAN 80 DEGREES.

Unfortunately, I live in the Sunshine State. It was 78 degrees on Christmas. So my window of opportunity for running in cool weather is very, very limited.

The way I see it, I have two options: early morning or late evening. The problem with early morning is…how can I put this without sounding totally lazy…OK, there’s no way, I guess I’m just lazy…on Sunday, I woke up to the sound of the ice cream truck driving through my neighborhood. Think about that. The ice cream truck doesn’t exactly make a breakfast run (although that would be glorious). As it is, I have to be at work at 8am. I love that I live 10 minutes from my job, so I can leave at 7:50am, meaning that I can get out of bed as late as 7:40 if I really want to. Usually I get up around 7:30. And even that’s a struggle. You’re telling me that you want me to try and get up at 6:15 just so I have time to eat, run, and shower? And what about later, when I’m up to 15 miles? My wake-up calls are going to be at 5am!! No way.

So last night I gave the late evening run a try. I headed out around 8pm. All was well. The air was cool and crisp, the sun was low in the sky, and I was feeling great.

Until the sun went below the horizon and the hobos started emerging from their respective hiding places all around Kapok Park. Yikes. Maybe I waited a little too long. The good news is I had to pick up the pace because the path along the rail road track isn’t lit, so I got some nice sprints in at the end of my last interval.

Perhaps 7:45pm is the ideal time, for now at least. Once my distances improve, I’ll have to move to 7pm, but that might be too early still. Especially because by then it will be July or August and that is way hotter than April.

Who knew you had to have a meteorology degree just to be a runner?

I blame Jim Halpert.

Jim Halpert put my arms in Jello.

That's right, I said it. My favorite prankster from The Office, the ever delightful, always adorable Jim, put my arms in Jello.

There's no other explanation for it.

For those of you who are not fortunate enough to be fans of The Office (a situation I suggest you remedy immediately), here's a little background for you:



On one of my recent runs, I was adjusting the volume on my iPod when I happened to notice that my left arm was flopping up and down at a most unsavory rate. That fat sack of skin between my elbow and my armpit, which I like to call my "Hey, Sally!" waves and flaps in the breeze and with every undulation of my body.

So every time my foot hits the ground, my fat underarm bounces again. It's actually quite mesmerizing.

My only explanation is Jim Halpert. He snuck into my room in the middle of the night, knocked Jae out with a sleeper hold, and put my arms in Jello.





...OK. I have one other explanation.

I need to do some arm workouts.

As much as I love the idea of John Krasinski sneaking into my room in the middle of the night, knocking my fiance unconscious, and covering me in a surprisingly refreshing and highly underrated dessert, that is not the reason that I have such flabby arms. I just need to do some tricep extensions. Or bicep curls.

OR PUSHUPS!!

That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I think I have decided to take on the 100 Push-Up Challenge!

I should admit that I've done a bit of research on this, and not very many people have actually finished the challenge. But some have, and even the ones that haven't have made it up to 50 or 60 at a time before they gave up. And considering that I can do about, oh, 15...on my knees...right now, I would say that's a pretty good goal to have. But I want to do real ones, on my toes. I haven't done my initial test, but my best guess for how many I can do is...3. Pathetic, but honest.

I think it will be good for me. Overall health and tone will help improve my stamina and make me a better runner.

Plus, with all the hypnotic undulation that's going on in my arms, I'm definitely going to run straight into a tree or a lamppost one of these days. And that wouldn't be good for anyone.

But, John, if you're reading this, please don't think that you're not welcome to come and wrap my arms in Jello any day. Because you certainly are.

Math lessons from the road

I learned an important math lesson on my run last night.

Two is twice as big as one.

So when I made the switch from one minute run, two minute walk intervals to two minute run, one minute walk intervals, I really felt the difference. It was a lot harder. But I also ran farther, so that was cool. It was also not cool, because my newfound distance put me on a path which included the only hills in Pinellas County. I’m trying to convince myself that this is a good thing, but my hips and gluts are currently telling me otherwise.

I almost didn’t go last night. I waited until 7:50 pm, when it was nearly too dark to leave. I kept thinking that I had worked harder than I needed to on Monday, so I could take a day off.

But I didn’t.

It wasn’t that I was looking forward to running; it’s that I wasn’t looking forward to not running, if that makes any sense. I didn’t want to come on here and admit defeat. I didn’t want to have to cross another day off my training schedule, knowing that I’d skipped actually skipped it. Part of me keeps thinking that these early days don’t matter. I can already run for two minute intervals. What really matters is the part when I start doing three milers, right?

Wrong. This is the part that matters most.

I also think I might be giving in and doing the Oldsmar Taphouse 5K.I really want to do it, mostly because I have two friends (see I’m A Pack Animal for more info on said friends) who are doing it, but also because it sounds like a heck of a lot of fun. But, there are two problems: one, I won’t be trained up in time, and two, it’s the weekend after my honeymoon. So not only will I have just taken a week off my training (aside from the hiking and mountain biking we plan to do in St. Lucia), but I will also have just taken two weeks off from my job at the adorable Pan y Vino in downtown Dunedin. The race is on a Friday night, and I’m just not sure if I want to give up another shift.

My other 5K race options are as follows:

The Rap River Run on June 13 in New Port Richey, FL. This poses similar problems to the Taphouse 5K, in that it’s the week after I get back from the honeymoon, so my training won’t be quite there yet. Plus I won’t have my posse with me. But the location is super convenient, just 30 minutes away. Still, it’s probably too soon, so it’s the least likely to win. We all know by know that I don’t like to fail, so I don’t want to do something I’m not ready for.

The Run Thru Hell on June 21 in Tampa, FL. Very convenient, but again still a little too early. The hurricane makeup date is July 25, though, which would be perfect. But I don't think it would be fair to the rest of the state of Florida to hope for a hurricane. Not to mention that, in the 10 years I've lived here, every time there's been a hurricane threat, it's never actually made it through Tampa.

Citrus Summer Showdown on July 11 in Inverness, FL. True, it’s nearly two hours away, but registration is free, and I’ll get to run with a bunch of hicks. It might be a small race, though.

Moss Park Forest Run on August 1 in Orlando. This is probably going to be the winner. OK, it’s two hours away. So I’d have to get up at 5am to get there on time. But the course sounds beautiful, and the timing is perfect; the schedule is a week after my 5K training would be complete. I would possibly even run a decent time.

There’s no saying I can’t do more than one, though…I know I want to run a few races before the marathon. I have plans to run the Turkey Trot 10K on Thanksgiving. It’ll be my excuse to eat as much food as I want that day.

RunLikeA-Girl is invading the Internet!!!

In my effort to be Internet famous (aka get my reader numbers above 15), I’ve decided to give in and join Twitter…because, let’s face it, this blog is a waste of my time, and yours, if no one reads it. And everyone should read it, because it is fabulously entertaining.

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