One of the disadvantages of being a human in the 21st century is that we’ve become the ultimate racing machine—and not ultimate as in unbeatable. We rush through our day, ticking off items on our agenda like laps around the track, sighing and shaking our heads at the clock as we whiz by. And even though we’re behind, we throw in a few extra pit stops and maybe a detour—still hungry for that checkered flag. The problem with racing the clock, however, is that whatever time we get … the clock reached it first.
We resolve to take second place hoping to earn extra points for our effort. I had a boss, once, who’d answer his cell phone even while perched on porcelain. One of my ex-coworkers returned from washing his hands in the restroom and claimed he heard the boss’s voice carry on a one-sided conversation from a stall. And, sadder still, I didn’t doubt it. Our boss was like that—bound to cell phones and PDA’s to the point of depriving himself a private poop.
Inspired by a program called 100 Day Challenge (seen previously on Me Amoeba), I’m in the middle of an aggressive effort to achieve five specific goals. Goal number six—I know I said five but seven demanded attention—is to “routinely run four consecutive miles in less than eight-minute miles, injury free.” Goal specificity, they say, is a must. Never having run an 8 minute mile before, and still mending a torn ligament that required weeks of RICE and self-prescribed physical therapy [click to continue…]
By nature—and her blessing of big-bones upon me—I am not a runner. Once, when I was 18, I ran six miles, then barfed. I’ve always been more of an interval girl, preferring anaerobic activities that balance rest and exertion like lifting weights and … lifting weights. And perhaps yoga, before the injuries acquired during my practice exceeded those from the totality of other sports—including drinking. But time does funny things to our preferences, and our bones.
During the peak of a highly fictitious crisis five months ago, I took to running regularly. And by regularly I mean before and after a significant injury conceived during, ironically, a yoga session. I’m not knocking yoga. It is a fantastic discipline, albeit one my over-achieving mentality does not understand. I can not meet muscular tension without trying to teach it a lesson. The only thing I approach gently is flossing, and maybe tigers.
So, how does a non-runner become a (cough, hack, choke) runner? Well, in a word, motivation. For me, motivation came with three heads: guilt, a fantastic on-line resource, and an excuse to buy new gear.
Guilt: Admittedly, a negative body image hangs your sanity on a fragile hook; a few extra chips or an unnecessary apple and you might as well join the freak show. We rely upon exercise to balance the scale. There are days—especially if I’ve missed a run or two—when I can literally feel my ass spreading. Fortunately, running has made my pants expand faster than my butt.
Running Resources:runnersworld.com is to the new runner what a honeymoon is to lovers. It doesn’t get much better. Here you can find training programs from 5Ks to marathons and everything in between. Videos, forums, gear guides, calculators from pace to BMIs, and on-line training journals are at the tip of your toes. My favorite tool is the route finder/creator where you can look up a route already in the database or map your own to calculate distance.
Gear is Good: High quality, high-tech running gear is expensive. But in the midst of a barefoot running fad, there is no better time to save money. Instead of listening to me drone on, check out this video discussing basic running gear.
