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For the past two days, I have gone the South Davis Rec. Center due to the horrible weather. I was nervous the first day as I was unsure what I was even doing. Everyone there seemed like they had a clue and so I pretended to have a clue too.
The plus side is that it is indoors, there are many different machines to work out on along with an indoor track, and the people there come in all shapes, sizes, and ages (lots of older people. Three cheers for them). I was worried about looking like a running fool in comparison to the other runners, but because there is a variety of people, I felt okay. I have learned how to work the bike and treadmill machines and I like them (they have little TV’s you can watch while you work out). A negative (for me) is that the track is only 1/9th of a mile, so I have to run the track 9 times to achieve a mile. Nine times seems like a lot. Running the track nine times, watching the same old same old is not too inspiring at all, but the track is indoors out of the rain, snow and smoggy haze of yesterday. Today, I had a moment . . . I noticed an older woman in her 50’s or so walking the track. Her legs were very skinny, and her left leg appeared crippled. She wore a specially made shoe with an extra thick soul to make her leg the same length as her right. As she walked the track, she pretty much dragged that left leg along and walked very slowly. I did a half a mile of running and decided to do the bike for awhile. This woman was doing the bike as well when I got there and asked me for some help figuring it out. We started talking. She noticed my brace on my knee and suggested I try running in the pool. She says it has done miracles for her. I told her I would give it a try. As we talked I explained how I was training for a big race in June and how I was nervous and unsure if I was capable of doing it. She turned to me and said, “If I had legs like yours, I would do it. I would run races.” She smiled at me. “You can do it. I’m sure you will do just fine.” I have no excuse. My legs are fine—weak, out of shape, but fine. I am thankful for this. I am thankful for my legs, and what they are capable of. I need to always remember this.
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Last Thursday I went walking for 30 minutes before picking up the kids from school. No problems there. I came home, got the kiddos snacks and settled down so that I go to a neighbor’s house just down the hill from where I live. Instead of driving to her home (like I normally do), I decided to run. This is where you would think I had the accident, since I live on a pretty steep hillside and running down a hill, any hill, one picks up speed and sometimes can’t control it. But no, I did fairly well. I actually enjoyed running down the hill—the wind whipping through my hair, my body and lungs working together.
No, at this point all was well. It was the return home that did me in. Like I said, I live on a hillside. I had to walk back up the hill to get to my house. It was hard, but doable. I have done it several times before—muscles aching and thoughts of “Who decided it would be a good idea to build houses on a hillside?” running through my mind. It wasn’t until I actually got to the bottom of my very own steep driveway, that tragedy befell me. I decided to climb to my front door by using our rock steps instead of the perfectly good steps that came with the house. This was my undoing. With wobbly, weak legs I climbed each step (keep in mind I was wearing my new $140 shoes that were a whole size too big). Just as I was about to reach the landing, the toe of my left foot caught on the rock overhang of the step, snagged me and down I went. Before I even checked for bodily damage, I looked around to see if I had any witnesses (because that is just embarrassing). There were none. That’s when I noticed my banged up knee (my good knee, thank goodness) and that my wrist and shoulder (that I used to brace my fall) were in a lot of pain. My knee is so sore—scraped up and bruised—but it is my right shoulder that is giving me nothing but grief these past few days. The day after the fall, I woke up and felt as though my shoulder had been dislocated. I was in an awful lot of pain—popping ibuprofen like crazy. I can’t sleep laying on it, it hurts. I can’t sleep on the opposite shoulder, because it pulls and therefore hurts. I can’t lie flat, because it hurts. The sucker just hurts. It is getting better with each day, thankfully. But it has been 4 days since I have done any training at all. I don’t like that. I don’t want to fall behind, because I have no time to spare. So today, pain or no pain, I will go running. I will drug myself up and get out there. Pressure,
From the inside—building, mounting. Go farther. Try harder. Be better. --others can do it, Why can’t I? Success is limited, but failure is not an option. Trudge on, One foot in front of the other, One more mile, One more yard, One more foot. There is no going back. No stopping in my tracks. Forward motion only, but going forward hurts sometimes. I like Alynn C. Ford, but when I tell someone what it is, their like "What?" A pen name should not be difficult. It should flow. It should be easily remembered. Which one do you like below. Which ever one gets the most votes will be the one I go with. Thanks so much.  In West Farmington, I found a lovely county road that stretched from Glovers Lane to Centerville. It’s a county road, non-paved with very little traffic at all (I only saw 2 trucks and 1 motorcycle pass me the whole time). I like solitude—no one to judge me or poke fun.
I started out well. I ran some. I walked some. I puttered out quickly, BUT I made myself go on, even if it was just walking. When I reached 1.2 miles down this road, I turned around and made a pact: “Okay, Angela. You can do it! Yes, you can! Run to that first electrical pole and then you can walk to the next one.” (Ya, I talk to myself—often. Not just in running either). That was my plan. I would run to the first pole, walk to the second, run to the next one, and then walk once again. I would do this the whole way—no wimping out. I would do it, I would! And I did. I loved it, weird but true. The poles were spaced far enough apart that I felt it was doable. Typically, they are spaced 125 feet apart according to Wikipedia. Not a large distance, but not shabby either. I guess in some ways this method is almost like the run 1 minute, walk 2 minute training guide I had posted earlier on the training tab above. I like that road. It gave me a visual guide to follow. I will walk/run it again. Who knows, maybe I can get to a point of run past 2 poles, walk the 3rd cycle. That would be nice. My goals aren’t huge, I’m just trying to keep them doable. I walked/ran a total of 2.44 miles in 41.44 minutes. Not great, but gives me plenty of room for improvement.  I drove back to Draper once more, was not nearly as impressed with the staff as I was the first time (different people), and exchanged my running shoes. Take a look at what $140 + plus tax can get you, aren’t they pretty? They’re pink! I like pink, especially with a little bit of “hippy flair” printed on the sides. I like it. The brand is Asics. They are a woman’s gel running shoe size 8 (I am usually a size 7 or 7 ½, but it is suggested that going up a half a size to a full size more is best. This will allow your toes not to bang against the shoe causing “black toe.” This is a fun condition in which you get blisters under the toenail that eventually leads to the toenail falling off all together. Bloody fantastic, huh?)
My shoes have a name--Rose Lightning. What’s not to like about that? Rose Lightning—Sweet! I took them out for a test run and put 2.44 miles of walking/running on them already. They will do. I mean, at this point almost any shoe will do, unfortunately. There are no magic shoes to make me run faster, run farther, run better, so really to me Rose Lightning is just like any other shoe except with a really cool name and a pretty stiff price. They are pretty, so maybe having a pretty shoe that costs a lot helps in the “mental” running process. Mentally I look good, so therefore I will mentally be able to achieve greatness. I guess in the whole scheme of things, when I pass out on the side of the road from lack of air and calf muscle cramping, people will look at my feet and think, “Wow! What amazing shoes!” Today I drove all the way down to the Salt Lake Running Company in Draper to purchase me some real, actual running shoes (I’ve been running in my baby blue Sketchers all this time). Did you know that real, actual running shoes cost a pretty penny? Well, they do. They are not cheap at all. I don’t think I have EVER bought shoes that expensive. With the new shoes called Saucony, four pairs of running socks and a running knee brace, I walked out of there with a bill totaling . . . drum roll please . . . $209.46. That’s a whole lot of pennies for a sport I despise.
I liked this store. It’s all about running and I found the staff to be quite knowledgeable. They actually have you run on a treadmill and they video tape how you run to determine the type of shoe and support that would work best. You would not find this type of service at Big 5 or Sports Authority. I’ve seen some of the guys at Big 5, and I don’t think they know what running is. The staff at the Salt Lake Running Company know what they are doing because they are runners. They told me and I believed them. When I walked in there, I didn’t care how much I had to spend. I never even looked at a price tag. I just told them price did not matter, if they could help me better survive this race and provide me with shoes that will propel me forward on this journey then price is not an issue. There is no such thing as shoes that will propel people forward. They do not exist. Dang it! I was hoping for motors or springs or hovercraft type suspension, something, anything to make this easier. So, I tested out the new shoes. I parked the van in front of the Junior High 45 minutes before the bell was to ring. I slipped off my crappy shoes (the sales lady at the running store was amazed I had been running in such shoes. I never knew they were so bad. That shows you how much I knew about running). I put on a new pair of running socks and went for a walk/run for 1.7 miles. Well, guess what. The running brace pinches, which I would not have expected for a $30 dollar knee brace. My $10 knee brace from Wallymart works better AND my new shoes rub the heel on my right foot. There is blister potential there. So, tomorrow, I will drive to Draper once more and try again. The good news though, driving to Draper keeps me from actually running . . . CHA-CHING! We were on our way back from the store, when my 12-year-old son announced that he needed to run a mile before tomorrow for his Physical Fitness merit badge. He wanted to know if he could use his dad’s GPS watch to track his running. Having used it just this morning, I knew it had died and needed to be charged. I offered to take him to my running course where the mile is marked.
“Do you want to go home and change?” I asked him. “Na, I’ll just run in this,” he said. He was wearing shorts that even when he walked he need to hold up with one hand to keep them from hitting the floor. Every time I saw him hitch his pants up, I thought of that song from American Idol, “Pant’s on the Ground.” I had things to do anyway, so on the way home we stopped at the park and I let him out after some instruction. “Time me,” he said. I looked at the clock 4:34pm. He took off in a full fledge sprint. I sat in the car, watching. He ran while holding onto his shorts the whole time. He ran that one-mile course in six minutes. SIX FRIGGIN MINUTES! He returned at 4:40pm, climbed in the car and finished off his Hersey’s bar. “What’s for dinner?” he asked. I wanted to cry. I am such a loser. What am I doing? Why did I sign up for this race? WHAT WAS I THINKING? I am an overweight mom, who hates running. I used to tell people, the only time you will see me running is if there is a bear chasing me, AND even then, I may just lie down and let the bear eat me. I hate this. I hate that I can’t do it. I feel like such a failure and though I still have a little less than three months until the big race, I just don’t know any more. I know I said I was down, but not out. Well, today after running only a half-mile this morning before giving up, I feel out. I’m starting to feel as though I am kidding myself here and I should bag the whole thing. Heck, I know a kid who could run my legs in just a little over 20 minutes at the rate he runs—feed him some candy and a coke and he can do it in ten.  My Pepsi addiction is just that—an addiction. Cool, icy, lime flavored Diet Pepsi . Even now as I write I wonder when, where, and how soon I will be able buy my next “fix.” Usually it is only once a day, a nice frosty cup of Pepsi from my local Top Stop, but every so often it is a little bit more. It’s my pick-me-up, my “you deserve a treat” treat. Sometimes though, it’s my lack of caffeine- induced migraine that propels me forward in my search. I can’t go for long without a sip of caffeine.
I must stop. I must. It’s not good for me. I know this. Criminy, Pepsi and Coke can be poured upon a car battery to remove the acid buildup. What then does it do to the insides of my body? Wait, wait, I don’t want to think about that. How can something that tastes so good be so bad? I am training to run a race. I doubt I will be able to carry a jug of Pepsi with me as I run. I can try, but it won’t look right, will it? Run, run, run, sip Pepsi through a straw, run, run, run. I must give it up. I must let go of my daily crutch. Who knows, maybe I will feel better for it. I try to tell myself that drinking juice or flavored water will be GREAT, but somehow I just don’t buy it. But it must be done. So, today as an act of shifting in the direction of healthy living, I give up the drink. I wipe my hands clean of it. There, it is done. I will learn to love water. I will learn to love water. I will learn to love water. |
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