I had a killer run last night. A killer workout in general. I loved it. It happened in the gym, not outside. It's too dark by the time I get home from work and have a chance to get outdoors. I sweat like a mad woman at the gym. No wind and the A/C does not blast enough to keep me cool. I was a sweaty mess, but I loved it. Proof of a good, tough workout.
I'll post about the Twin Cities 10K soon! Life has been busy these last couple weeks. One of those weeks included an amazing week OFF from work. I spent it all with my baby boy! We had the best week EVER!
More to come...
Sidenote: I'm addicted to Pinterest. Anyone else? I found these two quotes on there the other day that I just love. I felt inspired.
1. Running, cheaper than therapy
2. Reality Check #18: Stop wishing. Start working for what you want. Go workout. Skip the junk food.
Showing posts with label treadmill. Show all posts
Showing posts with label treadmill. Show all posts
Friday, October 21, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Six
In my last post, I told you about my 5 mile run. I was hoping to be further along with my training by this point, but sometimes you can't control what's going on with the rest of your life. Just gotta press on.
Two days after the 5 mile run, I did 3 miles at the gym in the evening after work. I am usually the one who puts our son to bed at night, but I missed out on that in order to run. I felt a little sad about missing bedtime, but I know I have to keep up the running and I know that my husband enjoys the bedtime routine with our son too... I guess I have to share. The routine is: put on jammies, drink 3 ounces of milk from a bottle (I can't break the habit... taking away this bottle means he is no longer a baby), say a goodnight prayer, sing "Jesus Loves Me" and then say "I love you" about 15 times before putting him in his crib. I love that routine. Simple, easy, short, but so precious. Sometimes I wonder if my toddler is thinking "Mommy, enough with the kisses! Put me down so I can go to sleep already!!!"
The run that night was good though. I'm glad I was able to get to the gym and knock out 3 miles in 30 minutes. It was similar to my 5 mile run. I felt great, felt happy, felt alive. I grocery shopped after the run and may have purchased a few unnecessary items due to post workout hunger. It happens.
That was Tuesday night. I didn't run the rest of the week to give my knees a little rest. It didn't work out in our schedule to run Friday or Saturday, so I knew I had to run Sunday. I think Sunday is quickly becoming my long run day.
My goal: 6 miles
Due to the crappy May 1st weather, I ran indoors at the gym. As I drove to the gym, I saw people running outside with winter hats and gloves on. I thought that maybe I'm too weak and should be running outside like the rest of them. But that thought quickly faded. Who am I kidding... I hate running in cold weather. I arrived at the gym and saw that my favorite treadmill next to the window was available. Yessss! I hopped on, pressed start and nothing happened. It was broken. Lame. I moved over one to the left (one spot further away from the window), which ended up being okay. Is anyone else as picky about their treadmill location as I am?
The run started off well. I listened to the David Crowder Pandora station again and gave a thumbs up to a few songs throughout the run. My mind wandered a little bit throughout the run. It was definitely more difficult than the 5 miler last Sunday. A couple reasons might be that first, the sun wasn't shining and second, I was hungry. I'm obviously a rookie runner because I went to the gym after church at lunchtime without having eaten anything since about 8:30 that morning. But more than anything, it was more challenging mentally yesterday.
Running is such a mental test. Especially running longer (for me) distances indoors. Miles 1 and 2 were just fine. At mile 3.5, I started feeling pretty tired (possibly the lack of food in my system). I stopped for a quick sip of water at miles 3, 4 and 5. I figured it was okay to take a quick water stop. I try to be invisible at the gym, so if I passed out by trying to not stop running and not drink water, people would really notice me flying off the treadmill scoring treadmill burn on my face. I don't want that.
Once I got to 5.5 miles, I knew I could finish it. My mental game got stronger and I told myself I could do it. Throughout the challenging 3.5 to 5.5 miles though, I tried to focus on the Harbor House. I thought about the young mothers who we're raising the money for and that I need to push through this for them. It helped.
I did it. I got to 6 miles and in pretty good time too. I don't have a goal time in mine for this race. I ran the half in 2 hours and 30 minutes last year, so I'd like to beat that as a personal challenge, but that's not on the front of my mind.
It felt amazing to come home and tell my husband that I accomplished the 6 mile goal. He had a huge smile on his face and congratulated me. Despite the challenges during the run, it feels so good to accomplish that goal. Maybe its sweeter knowing that it was difficult and yet I didn't quit.
I'm curious to see what next Sunday will bring.
Two days after the 5 mile run, I did 3 miles at the gym in the evening after work. I am usually the one who puts our son to bed at night, but I missed out on that in order to run. I felt a little sad about missing bedtime, but I know I have to keep up the running and I know that my husband enjoys the bedtime routine with our son too... I guess I have to share. The routine is: put on jammies, drink 3 ounces of milk from a bottle (I can't break the habit... taking away this bottle means he is no longer a baby), say a goodnight prayer, sing "Jesus Loves Me" and then say "I love you" about 15 times before putting him in his crib. I love that routine. Simple, easy, short, but so precious. Sometimes I wonder if my toddler is thinking "Mommy, enough with the kisses! Put me down so I can go to sleep already!!!"
The run that night was good though. I'm glad I was able to get to the gym and knock out 3 miles in 30 minutes. It was similar to my 5 mile run. I felt great, felt happy, felt alive. I grocery shopped after the run and may have purchased a few unnecessary items due to post workout hunger. It happens.
That was Tuesday night. I didn't run the rest of the week to give my knees a little rest. It didn't work out in our schedule to run Friday or Saturday, so I knew I had to run Sunday. I think Sunday is quickly becoming my long run day.
My goal: 6 miles
Due to the crappy May 1st weather, I ran indoors at the gym. As I drove to the gym, I saw people running outside with winter hats and gloves on. I thought that maybe I'm too weak and should be running outside like the rest of them. But that thought quickly faded. Who am I kidding... I hate running in cold weather. I arrived at the gym and saw that my favorite treadmill next to the window was available. Yessss! I hopped on, pressed start and nothing happened. It was broken. Lame. I moved over one to the left (one spot further away from the window), which ended up being okay. Is anyone else as picky about their treadmill location as I am?
The run started off well. I listened to the David Crowder Pandora station again and gave a thumbs up to a few songs throughout the run. My mind wandered a little bit throughout the run. It was definitely more difficult than the 5 miler last Sunday. A couple reasons might be that first, the sun wasn't shining and second, I was hungry. I'm obviously a rookie runner because I went to the gym after church at lunchtime without having eaten anything since about 8:30 that morning. But more than anything, it was more challenging mentally yesterday.
Running is such a mental test. Especially running longer (for me) distances indoors. Miles 1 and 2 were just fine. At mile 3.5, I started feeling pretty tired (possibly the lack of food in my system). I stopped for a quick sip of water at miles 3, 4 and 5. I figured it was okay to take a quick water stop. I try to be invisible at the gym, so if I passed out by trying to not stop running and not drink water, people would really notice me flying off the treadmill scoring treadmill burn on my face. I don't want that.
Once I got to 5.5 miles, I knew I could finish it. My mental game got stronger and I told myself I could do it. Throughout the challenging 3.5 to 5.5 miles though, I tried to focus on the Harbor House. I thought about the young mothers who we're raising the money for and that I need to push through this for them. It helped.
I did it. I got to 6 miles and in pretty good time too. I don't have a goal time in mine for this race. I ran the half in 2 hours and 30 minutes last year, so I'd like to beat that as a personal challenge, but that's not on the front of my mind.
It felt amazing to come home and tell my husband that I accomplished the 6 mile goal. He had a huge smile on his face and congratulated me. Despite the challenges during the run, it feels so good to accomplish that goal. Maybe its sweeter knowing that it was difficult and yet I didn't quit.
I'm curious to see what next Sunday will bring.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
My Easter Run
I've had two amazing runs in the last few days. I'll tell you about the first one in this post.
Last week, I planned to run on Friday after work, but a family dinner at D'Amico came up and I chose to attend that instead. You would have too. Yum! I planned to run on Saturday morning before Easter festivities started with my family. We celebrated a day early to accommodate schedules. A run wasn't going to fit in. I told myself that I had to run on Sunday, but Sunday was actually Easter and we had a full day planned. I needed a run though.
Fortunately, I have a son who wakes up ridiculously early, so we were up with him hours before the Easter church service was going to start. I told my husband that I was heading to the gym and off I went.
It was a gorgeous Easter morning. After days of rain, the sun came out. Seemed fitting to be so bright and happy on Easter Sunday. The drive to the gym was so pretty that I was actually really excited to go run. Because it was so early and because it was Easter Sunday, the gym was deserted. I had the top choice in treadmills. I chose one right by the window where I could soak in the sunshine. The music I chose to run to was a David Crowder Pandora station. Pandora made some great song choices and off I went.
My goal: 5 miles
It was 7:20 when I started the run. I started slowly to ease into it and it was so enjoyable that I think I was smiling. Yes, I was smiling... I know was... no reason to say, "I think." I wore my favorite green Puma hat and probably thought I could hide my happy face under it so nobody saw me acting all giddy. Who is this happy when running? Seriously.
I ran 1 mile, 2 miles, 3 miles and as I approached mile 4, I started to feel fatigued. It was also around this time that my phone battery died. Noooo. It was just me, my thoughts and the gym music that kept me going. It was peaceful though. I got through mile 4 and hit mile 5 on the 54-minute mark. I never said I was a fast runner. I did a quick stretch and headed home. I had to get my adorable almost 18 month old ready for Easter! When I walked in the door at home, I found my son, who was freshly bathed, and my husband sitting on the top of the stairs waiting for me. They both smiled ear to ear upon seeing their wife and mommy gross and sweaty. What a day! And it was only 8:45.
Good run. Great family. Amazing holiday.
Last week, I planned to run on Friday after work, but a family dinner at D'Amico came up and I chose to attend that instead. You would have too. Yum! I planned to run on Saturday morning before Easter festivities started with my family. We celebrated a day early to accommodate schedules. A run wasn't going to fit in. I told myself that I had to run on Sunday, but Sunday was actually Easter and we had a full day planned. I needed a run though.
Fortunately, I have a son who wakes up ridiculously early, so we were up with him hours before the Easter church service was going to start. I told my husband that I was heading to the gym and off I went.
It was a gorgeous Easter morning. After days of rain, the sun came out. Seemed fitting to be so bright and happy on Easter Sunday. The drive to the gym was so pretty that I was actually really excited to go run. Because it was so early and because it was Easter Sunday, the gym was deserted. I had the top choice in treadmills. I chose one right by the window where I could soak in the sunshine. The music I chose to run to was a David Crowder Pandora station. Pandora made some great song choices and off I went.
My goal: 5 miles
It was 7:20 when I started the run. I started slowly to ease into it and it was so enjoyable that I think I was smiling. Yes, I was smiling... I know was... no reason to say, "I think." I wore my favorite green Puma hat and probably thought I could hide my happy face under it so nobody saw me acting all giddy. Who is this happy when running? Seriously.
I ran 1 mile, 2 miles, 3 miles and as I approached mile 4, I started to feel fatigued. It was also around this time that my phone battery died. Noooo. It was just me, my thoughts and the gym music that kept me going. It was peaceful though. I got through mile 4 and hit mile 5 on the 54-minute mark. I never said I was a fast runner. I did a quick stretch and headed home. I had to get my adorable almost 18 month old ready for Easter! When I walked in the door at home, I found my son, who was freshly bathed, and my husband sitting on the top of the stairs waiting for me. They both smiled ear to ear upon seeing their wife and mommy gross and sweaty. What a day! And it was only 8:45.
Good run. Great family. Amazing holiday.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Thank you!!!
You all are wonderful! The mothers in Haiti are so lucky to have such great supporters! Seeing the support encourages me to continue my training and to run strong for the moms. Thank you so much for helping me help them. It really means a lot.
After I posted about the fundraiser last week, I took my first 2-night trip away from my toddler. I flew to Seattle to visit my sister, who is a senior in college out there. We had amazing plans. The weekend schedule looked like this:
Dinner out Thursday night, hike Friday morning in the mountains, hang out in Queen Anne all afternoon, have dinner downtown Friday night, Saturday morning breakfast at a local bakery, drinks lots and lots and LOTS of coffee, and explore Pike's Market Saturday afternoon.
My sister had every detail planned out. She had arranged to get out of class early, take the day off from her internship, her roommates to hike with us and for her boyfriend to have dinner with us. She's adorable. My first vacation post baby! I was very excited. And then... I got sick. So sick. Thursday night I held my stomach and whined. We watched three movies on Friday in front of her TV and fireplace. I tried my best to sip on Gatorade. The plans were out the window. By Saturday afternoon, I felt well enough to visit Pike's, but only for 45 minutes. I left Seattle not taking one sip of amazing Seattle coffee. What a shame.
I was really looking forward to going for a run while in Seattle. I wanted to challenge myself with the crazy hills they have there. I don't think they have flat ground in and around where my sister lives. She trained for a half marathon on these roads and I wanted to do the same. But I couldn't. So. Sick.
Last night, I finally made it to the gym to run for the first time since that trip over the weekend. I was nervous how it would go since my caloric intake over those few days had been quite minimal. I went into it thinking that I'd run 2 miles and probably feel beat doing that.
Mile 1: I ran at 5.0 and felt as if I could run at that speed forever.
Mile 2: I ran at 5.5 and felt pretty good. I was definitely sweating, but wasn't breathing nearly as hard as I thought I'd be.
I stopped for a quick water break and started up again.
Mile 3: I ran at 6.0 and felt like I was pushing myself, but knew I could make it. I got pretty tired at 2.47 (yes, I remember) and felt a little discouraged. I kept telling myself that I am training for this race and I can do it. I also told myself that anyone can do anything for 5 more minutes. My husband tells me that and it worked.
I finished out this 3 mile run and felt great. I was doing some serious sweating, but my body was working hard after all the awfulness of last weekend. This weekend I'm planning a 5 mile run outside (IF it hits 60 degrees like its supposed to!). I love the way I feel this morning after that run last night.
After I posted about the fundraiser last week, I took my first 2-night trip away from my toddler. I flew to Seattle to visit my sister, who is a senior in college out there. We had amazing plans. The weekend schedule looked like this:
Dinner out Thursday night, hike Friday morning in the mountains, hang out in Queen Anne all afternoon, have dinner downtown Friday night, Saturday morning breakfast at a local bakery, drinks lots and lots and LOTS of coffee, and explore Pike's Market Saturday afternoon.
My sister had every detail planned out. She had arranged to get out of class early, take the day off from her internship, her roommates to hike with us and for her boyfriend to have dinner with us. She's adorable. My first vacation post baby! I was very excited. And then... I got sick. So sick. Thursday night I held my stomach and whined. We watched three movies on Friday in front of her TV and fireplace. I tried my best to sip on Gatorade. The plans were out the window. By Saturday afternoon, I felt well enough to visit Pike's, but only for 45 minutes. I left Seattle not taking one sip of amazing Seattle coffee. What a shame.
I was really looking forward to going for a run while in Seattle. I wanted to challenge myself with the crazy hills they have there. I don't think they have flat ground in and around where my sister lives. She trained for a half marathon on these roads and I wanted to do the same. But I couldn't. So. Sick.
Last night, I finally made it to the gym to run for the first time since that trip over the weekend. I was nervous how it would go since my caloric intake over those few days had been quite minimal. I went into it thinking that I'd run 2 miles and probably feel beat doing that.
Mile 1: I ran at 5.0 and felt as if I could run at that speed forever.
Mile 2: I ran at 5.5 and felt pretty good. I was definitely sweating, but wasn't breathing nearly as hard as I thought I'd be.
I stopped for a quick water break and started up again.
Mile 3: I ran at 6.0 and felt like I was pushing myself, but knew I could make it. I got pretty tired at 2.47 (yes, I remember) and felt a little discouraged. I kept telling myself that I am training for this race and I can do it. I also told myself that anyone can do anything for 5 more minutes. My husband tells me that and it worked.
I finished out this 3 mile run and felt great. I was doing some serious sweating, but my body was working hard after all the awfulness of last weekend. This weekend I'm planning a 5 mile run outside (IF it hits 60 degrees like its supposed to!). I love the way I feel this morning after that run last night.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Preparation
I thought spring was here for good. Nope. Wrong. All our grass appeared over the weekend and then it snowed making our roof, deck, yard, driveway, and work parking lot covered in a heavy snow mess. Oh the nerve. And since I'm not a fan of running in the cold or on icy streets, I headed back to the treadmill. I am just longing to run in 80 degree weather with the sun blasting it's hot rays down on me (side note: I always wear sunscreen now when outside in the summertime. My wonderful sister-in-law is a dermatologist and supplies us with never ending amounts of sunscreen. I even have one bottle that is 85 SPF. It took her a while to convince me that being pale was better than having a nice summer glow, but I know in 30 years I will appreciate her perseverance with me.).
Last night, I went to the gym at 8 PM. I had just put my son down for the night, sat down to catch up on all things important on my iPhone (Facebook and Iowa Girl Eats), and nearly fell asleep for the night. Get up and get to the gym. Do it. Yawn. Just get up and go change. Yawwwwn. One, two, three... okay, I'm up. I put on my tempos and that red shirt that I'm apparently addicted to running in lately. For me, getting dressed for the gym is quite possibly the hardest part of the workout. Just getting the motivation to take the first step is the hardest. But once I'm dressed I'm good to go.
I started my run out at a nice 5.5 mph. I can tell my lungs and legs are getting in better shape because bumping the speed up to 6.0 doesn't feel taxing anymore. I love feeling like I'm improving. Before I knew it, I was at one mile. Then two. I started to get bored and honestly, I was pretty tired after four of the five days of work this week. I started speeding up. I made it all the way to 8.5 mph. At first I thought I couldn't control my legs, but all was okay.
When my lungs started to burn, and it didn't take that long, I had a realization: the soccer season starts in just over a month. I have to be able to run as fast as I possibly can for an entire game in about 6 weeks. Four years ago, I joined a women's soccer team. I joined with my friend who also ran the half-marathon. At the time, the team consisted of women just out of high school, women the same age as my mom, and all of us in between. I hadn't even touched a soccer ball since the last game I played my senior year of high school, so starting to play in my mid-20's was a little difficult. I forgot how fast-paced soccer was and how much sprinting was involved. I played for two summers, took one off because I was very pregnant, took last summer off because, well, I just couldn't get it together with nursing, working, mothering... yeah, you read that post... but this summer I will make my return.
My position of choice is right defender. I played defense in high school and never thought of myself as anything else. The second summer playing soccer, I had the chance to try playing mid-field and forward. Now those positions are exciting! I finally scored my first goal and had a celebratory DQ treat afterwards with my biggest fan, my husband. Two of my favorite things about soccer: speed and aggressive play. I prefer sprints over distance and I love running down an opponent. I love having green grass and mud smashed into my shin guards and scrapes on my knees at the end of the game. (To my future opponents: Please don't throw elbows until after Memorial Day weekend... I can't get bruises before my matron of honor duties are over. My sister will thank you. Thanks!) I haven't played in two years and I'm a little nervous about my ability to compete. Let's just make one thing clear... we're considered recreational, but we're serious competitors! Do not mess with "Club America." I want to do well. I want to be able to run down those opponents on game one and finish the game without puking behind the goal post.
I ran at 8.5 for a couple of 45 second stretches. On my second stretch, suddenly my legs stopped moving, but I thought I was still running. Um, what's going on? Am I passing out right now? Am I about to be that girl who falls flat on her face because she had the treadmill going faster than she could handle? Oh dear, I don't want a treadmill burn on my face! Then I looked down. I had accidentally pulled the emergency stop cord, which leads me to believe that I must've looked like a complete idiot with flailing arms right before pulling the cord. I had NO idea that the cord came out. After a good laugh, I restarted the machine and did two more 45 second sprints.
I finished up completely dripping in sweat. Awesome run. I am convinced that with a few more sprint training runs, I will be right on my way to scoring my second goal this summer. Bring on the DQ lemon lime arctic rush!
Last night, I went to the gym at 8 PM. I had just put my son down for the night, sat down to catch up on all things important on my iPhone (Facebook and Iowa Girl Eats), and nearly fell asleep for the night. Get up and get to the gym. Do it. Yawn. Just get up and go change. Yawwwwn. One, two, three... okay, I'm up. I put on my tempos and that red shirt that I'm apparently addicted to running in lately. For me, getting dressed for the gym is quite possibly the hardest part of the workout. Just getting the motivation to take the first step is the hardest. But once I'm dressed I'm good to go.
I started my run out at a nice 5.5 mph. I can tell my lungs and legs are getting in better shape because bumping the speed up to 6.0 doesn't feel taxing anymore. I love feeling like I'm improving. Before I knew it, I was at one mile. Then two. I started to get bored and honestly, I was pretty tired after four of the five days of work this week. I started speeding up. I made it all the way to 8.5 mph. At first I thought I couldn't control my legs, but all was okay.
When my lungs started to burn, and it didn't take that long, I had a realization: the soccer season starts in just over a month. I have to be able to run as fast as I possibly can for an entire game in about 6 weeks. Four years ago, I joined a women's soccer team. I joined with my friend who also ran the half-marathon. At the time, the team consisted of women just out of high school, women the same age as my mom, and all of us in between. I hadn't even touched a soccer ball since the last game I played my senior year of high school, so starting to play in my mid-20's was a little difficult. I forgot how fast-paced soccer was and how much sprinting was involved. I played for two summers, took one off because I was very pregnant, took last summer off because, well, I just couldn't get it together with nursing, working, mothering... yeah, you read that post... but this summer I will make my return.
My position of choice is right defender. I played defense in high school and never thought of myself as anything else. The second summer playing soccer, I had the chance to try playing mid-field and forward. Now those positions are exciting! I finally scored my first goal and had a celebratory DQ treat afterwards with my biggest fan, my husband. Two of my favorite things about soccer: speed and aggressive play. I prefer sprints over distance and I love running down an opponent. I love having green grass and mud smashed into my shin guards and scrapes on my knees at the end of the game. (To my future opponents: Please don't throw elbows until after Memorial Day weekend... I can't get bruises before my matron of honor duties are over. My sister will thank you. Thanks!) I haven't played in two years and I'm a little nervous about my ability to compete. Let's just make one thing clear... we're considered recreational, but we're serious competitors! Do not mess with "Club America." I want to do well. I want to be able to run down those opponents on game one and finish the game without puking behind the goal post.
I ran at 8.5 for a couple of 45 second stretches. On my second stretch, suddenly my legs stopped moving, but I thought I was still running. Um, what's going on? Am I passing out right now? Am I about to be that girl who falls flat on her face because she had the treadmill going faster than she could handle? Oh dear, I don't want a treadmill burn on my face! Then I looked down. I had accidentally pulled the emergency stop cord, which leads me to believe that I must've looked like a complete idiot with flailing arms right before pulling the cord. I had NO idea that the cord came out. After a good laugh, I restarted the machine and did two more 45 second sprints.
I finished up completely dripping in sweat. Awesome run. I am convinced that with a few more sprint training runs, I will be right on my way to scoring my second goal this summer. Bring on the DQ lemon lime arctic rush!
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Or Not
Well, crap. I ran 4 miles. Not 5. I tried my hardest. I think. I could really go on and on with excuses... we left work later than normal, I couldn't stop kissing my baby's adorable cheeks and that delayed me getting to the gym, I had to get home on time.... but I won't go there. I should be proud of 4 miles and I am. It's just a little annoying that I wanted to do five and didn't get there. Next time.
The run tonight felt good though. I hopped on one of the few treadmills left in the entire cardio area. I wouldn't say that I really had the choice machine. Everyone in the south metro goes to the gym at 5:45. I knew this, but I still like going at this time of day - just after work, not enough time to get cozy and stuck at home, but early enough to get home and relax before bed. I will not tell you what time I go to bed though. It's too embarrassing.
On my left was an older fellow drenched in sweat. On my right was a young guy who was also drenched in sweat. His what I assume to be girlfriend came up and talked with him for a bit similar to how I go and bug my husband while he's working out sometimes. Yes, ladies, he is mine. Back off. Heh heh. In front of me was this crazy guy. He was doing sprint intervals like a mad man. I have to think he was training for an upcoming soccer season (me too... more on that later!) the way he was working the speedometer. The highest I saw it go - yes, of course I was looking - was 11.1 mph. Just seeing that number took my breath away. I was hoping nobody looked at mine and saw 5.5 and laughed hysterically at my slow speed, but incredibly sweaty shirt. I blame the extra sweat on a packed gym. The hot, sticky air just seems to hang there. Ish.
Eventually, young sweaty guy on my right left and a girl about my age took his place. She was wearing a hot pink top and started her run pretty fast. She didn't stop. She kept going. Oh man, now I have to keep going too. I was so curious to see how fast she was running. I finally got the nerve to glance just long enough to see her speed: 6.3 mph. Oh. Come. On! Are you serious? Is everyone going faster than me? I think I saw her glance over at my treadmill too. I wanted to turn to her and say, "Yes, 5.5. You're better than me. Go away." But just as my bad attitude almost got the best of me, she quit! When she left briefly to get a cleaning cloth to wipe down the treadmill, I looked again to see how far she went. 3.77 miles. I was on 3.97. And then I went to 4. YES! I win! I win!
I am ridiculous. I know this. But these are my distractions. Maybe if she hadn't stopped I would have run 5. No, I'll quit blaming all these other people. I'll get 5 sooner or later.
The run tonight felt good though. I hopped on one of the few treadmills left in the entire cardio area. I wouldn't say that I really had the choice machine. Everyone in the south metro goes to the gym at 5:45. I knew this, but I still like going at this time of day - just after work, not enough time to get cozy and stuck at home, but early enough to get home and relax before bed. I will not tell you what time I go to bed though. It's too embarrassing.
On my left was an older fellow drenched in sweat. On my right was a young guy who was also drenched in sweat. His what I assume to be girlfriend came up and talked with him for a bit similar to how I go and bug my husband while he's working out sometimes. Yes, ladies, he is mine. Back off. Heh heh. In front of me was this crazy guy. He was doing sprint intervals like a mad man. I have to think he was training for an upcoming soccer season (me too... more on that later!) the way he was working the speedometer. The highest I saw it go - yes, of course I was looking - was 11.1 mph. Just seeing that number took my breath away. I was hoping nobody looked at mine and saw 5.5 and laughed hysterically at my slow speed, but incredibly sweaty shirt. I blame the extra sweat on a packed gym. The hot, sticky air just seems to hang there. Ish.
Eventually, young sweaty guy on my right left and a girl about my age took his place. She was wearing a hot pink top and started her run pretty fast. She didn't stop. She kept going. Oh man, now I have to keep going too. I was so curious to see how fast she was running. I finally got the nerve to glance just long enough to see her speed: 6.3 mph. Oh. Come. On! Are you serious? Is everyone going faster than me? I think I saw her glance over at my treadmill too. I wanted to turn to her and say, "Yes, 5.5. You're better than me. Go away." But just as my bad attitude almost got the best of me, she quit! When she left briefly to get a cleaning cloth to wipe down the treadmill, I looked again to see how far she went. 3.77 miles. I was on 3.97. And then I went to 4. YES! I win! I win!
I am ridiculous. I know this. But these are my distractions. Maybe if she hadn't stopped I would have run 5. No, I'll quit blaming all these other people. I'll get 5 sooner or later.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Work + Play + Sleep... oh and then run!
Fridays come and I think "ahhhhh the weekend is finally here!" Sigh of relief. But then I remember that all week long while my husband I were working at our day jobs, the rest of our life goes on the backburner. It is really challenging to be a mom and work full-time. As much as I hated my job the weeks following my return from maternity leave, I've come to appreciate the adult interaction and love the education our son is receiving at his daycare center.
I hated my job after returning to work for a few reasons. First, 2 weeks before I actually gave birth (I worked up until the night I went into labor... I'm so sorry to all my co-workers who had to look at my extremely swollen face those last couple weeks... uff dah), my department announced a major reorganization. I was so disappointed when I found out that everything about my job as I knew it would change. I was feeling confident in my role on my team and a shake-up was not what a 38 week swollen-faced pregnant lady wanted. So, the next day, my new boss held a meeting to do introductions. Mine went a little something like this:
Hello, I'm Brianna. I'm having a baby in two weeks... hopefully sooner... and I've never done this type of work before.
I think I came across less than pleasant. Fortunately, I wasn't the only pregnant person on the team, so I had sympathy coming from the other girl at least. My first week back to work after maternity leave was a little rocky. I returned to a new director, a new manager, a new team where I only knew one person (the other pregnant girl actually and she was still on maternity leave for another couple weeks after me! How dare she!), and I also knew absolutely nothing about the type of work I'd be doing. I had just dropped my son off at daycare for the first time and this shake-up is what I had to return to. I hated it.
It has been a little over a year since that first day back. I have a much different attitude towards my job now. Working outside the home gives me an opportunity to continue challenging myself professionally, but it also allows my son to have a wonderful learning experience at daycare. He started at 13 weeks old dressed in little button-up jammies and drank many, many ounces of pumped breast milk throughout the day. Now at 16 months, he has group time, eats lunch with the other kids at a table, sleeps on a cot, eats with a spoon, dances, reorganizes the furniture, waves goodbye to his friends when we pick him up in the afternoon and makes us the cutest little gifts for all holidays. I love it. He's 16 months old and he has a room full of little friends. Adorable.
The challenge comes when we work all day, eat dinner, play for an hour, and then put the little guy to bed for the night. He plays so hard all day that he crashes at 7. He'll spin in circles for 15 minutes laughing his head off and then WAHHHH...... cranky. Time for bed. Lights out until 5 AM. There is no time for anything else. None. Work. Play. Sleep. Repeat. Five times. Friday... ahhhhh, sigh of relief. But not really.
Weekend: laundry laundry laundry, sweep, vacuum, dishes, grocery shop, see family, see friends, reconnect with my husband, get a haircut, get the oil changed, RUN.
It is ridiculously hard for me to find time to workout. I only have one kid. It should be easy, right? I know people who have 7 kids who find time to run. Get it together and just go do it. Your life isn't that insane. That's what I have to tell myself. But it feels insane sometimes.
I had the chance to go run tonight. It's Sunday night at 6:45 PM. Our evening opened up last minute and I asked my husband if he'd put the little guy to bed so I could go to the gym. He always says yes. I changed into my new knee-length running pants and a t-shirt (the same red t-shirt from that 4 mile run). On the 10 minute drive over the gym through the snow, I went back and forth between wanting to do another longer run or do a fast run and get the whole thing overwith. I still had to grocery shop after the gym. It wasn't until I got on the treadmill until I decided to do a fast 2 mile run.
This run kind of sucked. I'm not going to lie. I don't think I was totally mentally prepared for it and I had left my iPod at home. All I had was my phone, so I listened to some random Pandora station that didn't really do it for me. My feet kind of hurt and so did my calves. My lungs felt like they were working pretty hard, but not because I was really pushing myself. They were screaming to have me quit. I got to 1.55 miles and I turned the speed up to 6.5, which I will remind you is fast for me. Not an all-out sprint, but pretty fast. I ran for a minute and thought "holy crap, I'm going to die... I want to stop." I didn't. Thirty more seconds. I did it. Thirty more seconds. Done. Fifteen seconds. 1.85 miles. Seriously? Already? Nice. Okay, 30 more seconds. Whew... dripping sweat here. I hope the lady behind me is gone now because I probably look really awkward right about now. 1.95 miles. I'm so going to get to 2 miles. I'm. Almost. There. YES! 2 miles! Cooldown.
My run completely turned around. I was just not into the run at first, but finishing strong totally made my night. I left and headed over to Cub to grocery shop at 8 PM. I felt good... hungry, but good. I needed that time to just decompress from the busy weekend. Sure, I was doing my weekend chore (I secretly like grocery shopping. I just wish I could go not on the weekend or in the evening when so many others are there too.), but the run and being out alone kind of helps prep me for the week. I have my meals planned out and have enough pineapple to keep my son happy all week. Favorite food of all time.
Random post. I fit the run in this weekend among everything else on the to-do list. I needed it. And it felt great.
I hated my job after returning to work for a few reasons. First, 2 weeks before I actually gave birth (I worked up until the night I went into labor... I'm so sorry to all my co-workers who had to look at my extremely swollen face those last couple weeks... uff dah), my department announced a major reorganization. I was so disappointed when I found out that everything about my job as I knew it would change. I was feeling confident in my role on my team and a shake-up was not what a 38 week swollen-faced pregnant lady wanted. So, the next day, my new boss held a meeting to do introductions. Mine went a little something like this:
Hello, I'm Brianna. I'm having a baby in two weeks... hopefully sooner... and I've never done this type of work before.
I think I came across less than pleasant. Fortunately, I wasn't the only pregnant person on the team, so I had sympathy coming from the other girl at least. My first week back to work after maternity leave was a little rocky. I returned to a new director, a new manager, a new team where I only knew one person (the other pregnant girl actually and she was still on maternity leave for another couple weeks after me! How dare she!), and I also knew absolutely nothing about the type of work I'd be doing. I had just dropped my son off at daycare for the first time and this shake-up is what I had to return to. I hated it.
It has been a little over a year since that first day back. I have a much different attitude towards my job now. Working outside the home gives me an opportunity to continue challenging myself professionally, but it also allows my son to have a wonderful learning experience at daycare. He started at 13 weeks old dressed in little button-up jammies and drank many, many ounces of pumped breast milk throughout the day. Now at 16 months, he has group time, eats lunch with the other kids at a table, sleeps on a cot, eats with a spoon, dances, reorganizes the furniture, waves goodbye to his friends when we pick him up in the afternoon and makes us the cutest little gifts for all holidays. I love it. He's 16 months old and he has a room full of little friends. Adorable.
The challenge comes when we work all day, eat dinner, play for an hour, and then put the little guy to bed for the night. He plays so hard all day that he crashes at 7. He'll spin in circles for 15 minutes laughing his head off and then WAHHHH...... cranky. Time for bed. Lights out until 5 AM. There is no time for anything else. None. Work. Play. Sleep. Repeat. Five times. Friday... ahhhhh, sigh of relief. But not really.
Weekend: laundry laundry laundry, sweep, vacuum, dishes, grocery shop, see family, see friends, reconnect with my husband, get a haircut, get the oil changed, RUN.
It is ridiculously hard for me to find time to workout. I only have one kid. It should be easy, right? I know people who have 7 kids who find time to run. Get it together and just go do it. Your life isn't that insane. That's what I have to tell myself. But it feels insane sometimes.
I had the chance to go run tonight. It's Sunday night at 6:45 PM. Our evening opened up last minute and I asked my husband if he'd put the little guy to bed so I could go to the gym. He always says yes. I changed into my new knee-length running pants and a t-shirt (the same red t-shirt from that 4 mile run). On the 10 minute drive over the gym through the snow, I went back and forth between wanting to do another longer run or do a fast run and get the whole thing overwith. I still had to grocery shop after the gym. It wasn't until I got on the treadmill until I decided to do a fast 2 mile run.
This run kind of sucked. I'm not going to lie. I don't think I was totally mentally prepared for it and I had left my iPod at home. All I had was my phone, so I listened to some random Pandora station that didn't really do it for me. My feet kind of hurt and so did my calves. My lungs felt like they were working pretty hard, but not because I was really pushing myself. They were screaming to have me quit. I got to 1.55 miles and I turned the speed up to 6.5, which I will remind you is fast for me. Not an all-out sprint, but pretty fast. I ran for a minute and thought "holy crap, I'm going to die... I want to stop." I didn't. Thirty more seconds. I did it. Thirty more seconds. Done. Fifteen seconds. 1.85 miles. Seriously? Already? Nice. Okay, 30 more seconds. Whew... dripping sweat here. I hope the lady behind me is gone now because I probably look really awkward right about now. 1.95 miles. I'm so going to get to 2 miles. I'm. Almost. There. YES! 2 miles! Cooldown.
My run completely turned around. I was just not into the run at first, but finishing strong totally made my night. I left and headed over to Cub to grocery shop at 8 PM. I felt good... hungry, but good. I needed that time to just decompress from the busy weekend. Sure, I was doing my weekend chore (I secretly like grocery shopping. I just wish I could go not on the weekend or in the evening when so many others are there too.), but the run and being out alone kind of helps prep me for the week. I have my meals planned out and have enough pineapple to keep my son happy all week. Favorite food of all time.
Random post. I fit the run in this weekend among everything else on the to-do list. I needed it. And it felt great.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
The Treadmill and I
So many people hate running on treadmills, but I don't mind it so much and I think the reason is pretty lame. I think it is easier than running outdoors. Physically. Not mentally. You agree? My husband hates the treadmill, but he's also a foot taller than me, which makes running on a treadmill difficult when your stride is loooong. He also says that he gets bored so fast and prefers to run outdoors. I can see his point. I have come up with all sorts of mind games to play while I run indoors and I'll list some of them below.
My most recent run earlier this week was on the treadmill at the gym. I'm itching to run outside, but that day, we were being smothered with 18 inches of brand new snow. All signs of spring went out the window and I realized the treadmill and I would be together a while longer. This was my second run in a week. I fell off the running... working out all together... bandwagon for a while and am getting back on.
My goal: 4 miles.
I was going to run 4 miles whether my legs, lungs and mind liked it or not. I tend to start runs at 5.5 with zero incline... nice and flat for this girl. I get 2 minutes in and I'm bored to death. I bump the speed up to 6.0, 6.5 and 7.0, but then I crash. I crash fast. I never get past 3 miles when I let my mind get the best of me. I needed to break the habit, so 4 miles it was. I turned on my iPod, put my water bottle in the holder, put my sweat towel on the right hand railing and off I went. I forced myself to keep the 5.5 speed for all 4 miles. Because I kept a nice, steady pace, I felt great when I finished... so much so that I went back to old habits and put the speed up to 7.0 (FAST in my book) and ran until my vision became slightly blurry and got to 4.15 miles. With a cooldown walk, I ended my workout at 4.33 miles and felt fantastic. I may have been dripping sweat and my face was probably as red as the red tshirt I was wearing, but as my husband often reminds me: you're at the gym - you're supposed to look like this! Plus, its a sign that I worked hard, which makes me feel good about the experience too.
The mind games I played with myself to accomplish these 4 miles:
1. Don't look at the mileage on the treadmill. I don't put towels over the numbers like some people do because I like to glance down every once in a while and see how I'm doing.
2. Keep an eye on my husband, who was in the weight room area the entire time I ran, and pretend he's been checking me out the entire time. I like to think he thinks I look good when I run. True or not, I'm sticking to this theory.
3. Don't think about running. My thoughts that day consisted of these things: grocery shopping list, picking up our son from daycare and how fun that is, what I was going to make for dinner, remembering how awesome I felt finishing the half marathon, what I would write on this blog and of course, the theory in number 2 above.
4. Push through 30 more seconds when you think you can't go one second further. If I can get past 30 more seconds, I can do another 30 seconds. When I run outside, I use street lights, signs, houses, trees, anything I can to say that if I can get to that spot, I pushed through. Pushing through gives me confidence and also builds my physical running ability, so win win!
5. Talk yourself up. I pushed past those 30 seconds over and over. Yes!!! I rock!! I don't care how well people are working out around me, but if I beat a goal or a challenge I put in front of myself, I let myself know how awesome I think that is. Positive reinforcement, people.
I had a great run that day. I felt energetic and happy afterwards. I did this 4 mile run to prove to myself that I can push past 3 miles again (I haven't run past 3 since the half last summer). It is a mental milestone for me. I did it! My legs, lungs and mind beat the treadmill.
My most recent run earlier this week was on the treadmill at the gym. I'm itching to run outside, but that day, we were being smothered with 18 inches of brand new snow. All signs of spring went out the window and I realized the treadmill and I would be together a while longer. This was my second run in a week. I fell off the running... working out all together... bandwagon for a while and am getting back on.
My goal: 4 miles.
I was going to run 4 miles whether my legs, lungs and mind liked it or not. I tend to start runs at 5.5 with zero incline... nice and flat for this girl. I get 2 minutes in and I'm bored to death. I bump the speed up to 6.0, 6.5 and 7.0, but then I crash. I crash fast. I never get past 3 miles when I let my mind get the best of me. I needed to break the habit, so 4 miles it was. I turned on my iPod, put my water bottle in the holder, put my sweat towel on the right hand railing and off I went. I forced myself to keep the 5.5 speed for all 4 miles. Because I kept a nice, steady pace, I felt great when I finished... so much so that I went back to old habits and put the speed up to 7.0 (FAST in my book) and ran until my vision became slightly blurry and got to 4.15 miles. With a cooldown walk, I ended my workout at 4.33 miles and felt fantastic. I may have been dripping sweat and my face was probably as red as the red tshirt I was wearing, but as my husband often reminds me: you're at the gym - you're supposed to look like this! Plus, its a sign that I worked hard, which makes me feel good about the experience too.
The mind games I played with myself to accomplish these 4 miles:
1. Don't look at the mileage on the treadmill. I don't put towels over the numbers like some people do because I like to glance down every once in a while and see how I'm doing.
2. Keep an eye on my husband, who was in the weight room area the entire time I ran, and pretend he's been checking me out the entire time. I like to think he thinks I look good when I run. True or not, I'm sticking to this theory.
3. Don't think about running. My thoughts that day consisted of these things: grocery shopping list, picking up our son from daycare and how fun that is, what I was going to make for dinner, remembering how awesome I felt finishing the half marathon, what I would write on this blog and of course, the theory in number 2 above.
4. Push through 30 more seconds when you think you can't go one second further. If I can get past 30 more seconds, I can do another 30 seconds. When I run outside, I use street lights, signs, houses, trees, anything I can to say that if I can get to that spot, I pushed through. Pushing through gives me confidence and also builds my physical running ability, so win win!
5. Talk yourself up. I pushed past those 30 seconds over and over. Yes!!! I rock!! I don't care how well people are working out around me, but if I beat a goal or a challenge I put in front of myself, I let myself know how awesome I think that is. Positive reinforcement, people.
I had a great run that day. I felt energetic and happy afterwards. I did this 4 mile run to prove to myself that I can push past 3 miles again (I haven't run past 3 since the half last summer). It is a mental milestone for me. I did it! My legs, lungs and mind beat the treadmill.
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