Payneful

So if you did a lot of eye-rolling while reading my last post, here's the real deal: not every day on the trail is about speed/sunshine/rainbows/etc. In fact, if you were to study my running and enthusiasm-of for one month, you'd find I usually have three kinds of training days:

1.) ZOMG I LOVE SPEED. It's like I'm just rediscovering that I have feet, and then those shoes! And then HOLY CRAP WHEN I PUT ONE FOOT IN FRONT OF THE OTHER I MOVE. Those are the best days. The ones where I crave to be fast, where I want to see the world become a blur as I push myself harder and harder. Yeah, those days are all shiny running shoes and tubby, annoyingly cheerful angels.

2.) Uhhh, I can just run tomorrow, right? It's cold or something. These are the days where I have to practically drag myself out the door and grudgingly stumble toward the trail. Because, in reality, I could be doing a whole lot cooler things with my day. Like sitting on my ass and eating chips. I like chips.

3.) F*** LIFE. Remember when I talked about coming back from TDE? Those few weeks when I ran just to cause myself pain? Well, those days still come and go. BUT at least I'm channeling my frustration into something productive, right? I think?

Today was an example of the third. Somehow, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and by breakfast I was practically fuming about my situation. I barely have money, I have no job prospects, no one will hire me, I don't even have my own place, blah blah blah. My parents politely inquired if I could do a few things around the house, and I was all OHMYGAWD I'M BUSY CAN'T YOU SEE LIFE IS TOTALLY SHAFTING ME RIGHT NOW? And then after a bit of quiet huffing/puffing, I decided that I needed to punish myself. I needed to feel pain - because with pain, there comes strength. So I laced-up and stomped out the door.

According to the schedule, I had a 4-mile, easy jog today. But where's the pain in 4 miles? In doing things easy? No, today would be 7 miles. Today would be as hard as I could go for as long as possible. I wanted that stitch my side, and that strain of my muscles. I wanted that feeling at the end of a run where all you want to do is throw-up and curl into the fetal position. If life wanted to push me, I would push myself harder, and I would come out the other side stronger.

So I ran. My legs screamed at me. My lungs felt like they were going to collapse. My stomach felt like it would want nothing more than to evacuate the local population onto the pavement. And you know what? At the end of the run, my crappy mood was gone. Along with any feeling in my arms or face.

To tell you the truth, I don't know if trying to break myself like I do on these off days is a good idea. But I do know it helps me feel productive. After these runs, I feel like maybe I'm not just a lump of useless flesh, you know? Like maybe I'm still capable, even if I haven't been able to find a job...

Annnyway, if you ever see a guy running around Wilmington with an iPod strapped to his arm and a light blue beanie on his head, that's me! And then you can point and laugh at the crazy kid, because who actually wears beanies anymore? Huh? Amirite?

I am human.

I was wrapping-up my stretching as the last of the evening light struggled through the leaves, casting shifting shadows on the ground that seemed to dance with the wind. It was an incredibly peaceful moment, sitting there quietly in the cool dirt, staring at the winding asphalt trail ahead of me that disappeared into the trees some hundred yards beyond. As I switched to the other knee and pulled it to my chest, I half expected to see another jogger plod into view, lost in their own run. But there was no one else...and that was fine. It was perfect, actually. Who else do you need? I stood up, inhaled deeply, pressed play on my iPod, and took off.

It took only a few strides for my old friend to come swiftly back to me in a rush of chilly air. His presence caused my breath to catch momentarily, my steps to quicken, and my heart to drive a burst of adrenaline throughout my system. My mind welcomed him back with open arms, if only to use him for the painful pleasure that he would bring.

His name was Speed, and I had missed him.

Feeling reunited once again, I drove ahead along the path, the extraordinary beauty of the surrounding scenery becoming a mere sideshow for the main event - a snaking trail that seemed to pull me along. Though ignored, the chortling creek to my right continued to surge forward, cast into shadow by a looming, abandoned, and seemingly ancient factory on the other shore. The sharp face of the cliffs to my left stood steadfast as ever, its dull hues almost coming alive amongst the glowing evening light. This path, this park, this air - they were a runner's dreams. They were seductive and extravagant and alluring in the way that only nature can be, and they were the perfect backdrop for what I came to do tonight. But at the moment, that's all they were - a backdrop.

With the music pounding in my ears, it took me several minutes to realize that I was breathing way too hard. And that's when I was snapped out of Speed's bind, slowing to a more reasonable pace. No, I would not sprint tonight. I would not fly through these woods, pushing myself until my legs screamed and my lungs struggled to function. But knowing that I could, knowing that these trees could become a mere blur if I allowed Speed to ensnare me once more - that's what brought me back to this path, night after night. Knowing that if I worked at it, then the Speed I know could become something even more powerful, more seductive. Knowing that meeting up with this enhanced version of my old friend could mean an even bigger rush - that was worth being a runner. That was worth being a human.

Sometimes we are quick to forget how absolutely extraordinary our bodies are. At their peak, they are strong, swift, and agile...but they can also think, feel, and learn. They have a potential for phenomenal growth, and an awareness to carry it out. They are a combination of the most powerful computers and the most evolved vehicular designs on this planet. But time and time again, we forget what these bodies truly are. And that is holding us back from really feeling what it's like to be human.

But I am lucky. Running has opened a tiny crack in the window to my massive reservoir of human potential. And while I have only barely tasted what it's like to utilize my human body to its maximum ability, it was enough to get me hooked for life. I want more.

I can be amazing. No, I WILL be amazing. Why? Because I am human.

Tis the Season to Kick My Ass

Fa la la la la?

After getting home from what was an awesome weekend in the DC/College Park area - seeing friends, rallying to restore sanity, and having my first beer in weeks...and then my second, third, and fourth - I made the decision that this was the week to kick it up a notch. By which I mean, this was the week to kick my own ass.

In the past few weeks, my running workout hasn't changed too much - two days of light 3-4 mile runs, one fartlek-run day (usually 3 miles), one speed-training day (6 x 400 sprints, then 6 x 200 sprints), and then one long-run day (about 6.5 miles). The two days I take off for rest depend more on my work schedule than anything else, but I try not to follow a high-intensity run with another high-intensity run. But this week? HA.

On Monday, somewhere in the middle of my run (a fartlek session), I decided to add a mile - which, while by no means an impressive feat, was enough to draw my breath in jagged gasps at the end. And it felt good. Then came today, when - while warming up - I decided that it was a good day to run my 3.25 miles (the length of my course) at race-pace. Because I hadn't done that in a while, and wasn't it time? So that's what I did.

Flash back two weeks when I ran a 5k race around the park near our house and, embarrassingly, trodded across the finish line at 25 minutes, 31 seconds. I was mortified - times like 21 and 22 minutes used to come so easily to me, and yet here I was, huffing and puffing at a bit over 8 minutes per mile. I have never been overweight (not from lack of trying, though), but I knew that I was more out-of-shape then I had been in quite a while. And those 21 and 22 minute races only came easily when I had been involved in some sort of sport at the time. This...slowness...that I was experiencing now - that had to stop.

Traveling back to the present, I chugged across the end of my run - clutching at the stitch in my side and breathing in sharp, labored gasps - and glared at my watch, daring it to be anything around 25. And it wasn't. I had knocked about 4 minutes off that 5k time and rolled in at 21 minutes, 37 seconds.

Was I ecstatic? Absolutely not - my personal best is 20 minutes, 5 seconds, and my goal for Thanksgiving is to run under 19 minutes, so I have a lot more work to do. BUT, I knew this was a start. Throughout my run today, most of the pain seemed to stem more from my lungs than my legs, which means that with a few more weeks of conditioning, I might very well reach my goal. And this, more than anything else, is the reason that it's the perfect time to kick my own ass.

So, here's what my next 2 weeks are going to look like:

- 2 light runs, 4-5 miles

- 2 fartlek sessions, 4 miles

- 1 day speed intervals (200's, 400's, and 800's)

- 1 day long run, 6.5 miles

Around mid-November, I'm going to up my mileage in some regards, while also trying focus on finding my perfect race-pace. Until that time, though, I will work hard.

And will blink away the chilly-wind-induced tears out of my eyes.

And I will ignore the stabs of pain that come with every breath.

And I will revel in the after-run soreness that protests my every move.

Because this is what it means to be a runner, and that's exactly what I intend to be.

I do this all the time. Unfortunately.

Before you go any further in this post, please read the following...and then come back. I SAID COME BACK:

http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/06/this-is-why-ill-never-be-adult.html

While I probably lost about 99% of you to that blog (which is wildly entertaining, I'll admit), those of you that made the (difficult) decision to come back should know that I do exactly what she writes about. All the time. And, like Allie, it never seems to end well.

So why does that happen? Making positive changes in our lives should have a positive impact - something we should be more than willing to keep-up. And yet - for me, anyway - making too many changes at once leaves a lot of room for guilt to creep in and slowly demolish our newly responsible lives when one thing goes wrong.

The good news, though, is that there's a solution. Instead of changing everything at once in one drastic (and responsible!) swoop, why not make those changes over time? So that's my new goal - or really, my new goal to enact my other goals.

The first step was running. Instead of going all gung-ho and launching into an elaborate work-out regime that included pilates and gymnastics and wind-sprints, I luckily (and depressingly, I suppose, thanks to TDE) chose just to run. And that's just what I'm keeping going at the moment. Running in and of itself is not a difficult thing to do - for a good workout, it can take as little as 20-25 minutes or as long as your little legs desire. And since my running doesn't have to compete with 20 other new responsibilities, then if something goes wrong (say like right now, as I deal with the flu), then I'm not scrambling to reassemble my newly re-imaged life.

Over time, running will become a simple part of my day. There will no longer be times when I have to force my running shoes onto my feet, or trudge grudgingly across the asphalt for what seems like FOREVER (and is in fact just 3 miles). I will comfortable with it, and when that happens, I'll be able to take the next step.

Surprise! But not really.

So remember that time I said I was going to stop being awful? And then I didn't post anything for almost 2 months? Yeah, me too. Which means I am well on my way to fulfilling those goals, amirite??

So here's what happened:

1.) I moved. And by "I", I really mean my parents moved and I moved with them because I still don't have a job and blah blah blah. Also, moving an entire house-load of schtuff? It takes a lil' bit of time. Lil' bit.

2.) I went through what I'm now labeling "THE DARK ERA", or TDE, where I basically did a lot of sulking and struggling, and also became a black hole of communication (whatever went in, nothing came out. DUN DUN DUN). Unfortunately, during the weeks that TDE occurred, I wasn't in much of a mood to move/run/whatever. Which is really a pity, because had I been using all of my brain instead of only the omg-my-life-sucks part, I would have known that exercise can stimulate a release of endorphins. And I could've been all not-moody.

Oddly enough, though, in the final two weeks of TDE, I fell into the thinking that the more pain I caused myself, the stronger I'd be (all through exercise, of course. No, I was not a cutter). So I started to run. And run and run and run. On the days when I felt like everything was going to come crashing down, I ran without even knowing where I was going, or how far I went (which turned out to only be 6.5 miles). But I pushed myself, and after a run, the dull ache and stiffness in my legs gave me a feeling that I hadn't experienced in quite a while: a sense of accomplishment. I was becoming stronger, and as much as it hurt, I loved it.

In the last few days of TDE, which can be referred to as "THE SUPER DARK MINI ERA", or TSDME, I was more depressed and unhappy than I had ever been in my life, and my running slackened (only by a bit). Because what was the point? What was I working for? Well, the point was that maybe running - and bettering myself as a whole, really - wouldn't fix everything. It might not land me that ideal full-time aerospace job, or help me move into a place of my own. But it could give me that feeling of having accomplished something - enough so that I could face another day and keep on going.

So with more than a little help from my very excellent friends, along with my running, I decided that enough was enough. I may not have had a full-time job, or money, or my own apartment, but I had more going for me as a running, fully-functioning, communicative individual than a lethargic shut-in. And I broke free from TDE.

Where am I, post-TDE? I'm working two jobs - one as a customer service associate at Lowe's (Hardware and Tools, baby!), and another as some sort of paralegal assistant, doing title searches and copy-work. I work, I run, I eat, I sleep, and I job-hunt. It's not much of an existence, but it's sure better than one alternative.

But what are you doing to build a better you?, you're probably all crying in unison. Well, I'm still running, and I'm doing a whole lot of stretching. For the next month, I've decided to focus solely on training for a 5k that will be held on Thanksgiving morning. After that, I plan on going through a muscle-building phase, with hopefully enough running sprinkled-in to keep my legs satisfied.

One thing I've come to realize - and it's common sense, really - is that our day-to-day lives have an enormous impact on our attitude toward bettering ourselves. A rut in our lives can lead to a rut in our exercise and learning, as can a time when work and social hangouts are at an all-time high. But what we tend to forget is that it all works in the opposite direction - bettering ourselves can have an enormous impact on our day-to-day lives. And, if we remain determined and optimistic, it can create something more fulfilling than what we'd experience just drifting through our days.

So, as I jump off my soapbox (heel-click included, for an extra dose of HAHA!), it's obvious that I have a lot of work to do. And being post-TDE, I'm optimistic - but what does the future hold? It will hold its ups and downs, no doubt - although this time I'll *hopefully* stick to those goals of building a better me. Because even if my life is "in the shits", I'll know it's not from lack of trying.

Step One: Stop Being Awful

I am usually really, really awful at things like this.

Those times when I commit to a new workout schedule, a new diet, a new whatever...and then 3 days down the road, I've given up. Were they hard things to maintain? Absolutely not. Was I lazy? Heh, I wouldn't put it-...ok, yes. But no longer! I am usually awful at things like this, but not now. (Did you like that? It suddenly got all Grey's Anatomy in here!)

In the past few years, I've come to realize that the human body is an amazing, incredible thing. We have these truly remarkable minds and bodies (unless you're a pygmy goat who happened to stumble upon the blog, to which I saw AWKWARD), and yet realize an unremarkable (and totally made-up) 20% of our potential - and not even that, at times. In short, we're all a waste. Or even if you're sitting at your computer, crying out Not me! I'm not a waste of space!, then at least I am. I could be stronger, more flexible, more intelligent, and yet I'm not. And is there really anything holding me back? No. So it's time for a change.

But then comes the question that always seems to trip me up: How do I want to change? What should I work for? Well, instead of struggling to figure out just one direction I want to take, I figured why not multiple?

So what do I want to become?

- I want to be as strong and flexible as a gymnast or dancer. Why? Because they both utilize their bodies to the fullest - moving in ways that we can barely grasp.

- I want to be as fast as a track-athlete. Why? Because I like knowing that I'm faster than most people.

- I want to be as handy and efficient as a carpenter or mechanic. Why? Because who doesn't want to be able to fix everything?

- and I want to be as knowledgeable and "learned" as, well, possible. Why? Because I'm tired of struggling to form proper opinions on things because I don't know enough to do so, and I hate how relatively dumb I am.

At the moment, I'm sure those I-wants are a little far-reaching, but you know what? I want what I want. And it may not happen overnight, but I'm going to turn all those I-wants into achievements. In the next few posts I'll start detailing how I'm going about all this, but hopefully starting a blog and publishing my attempt to the world will keep this alive longer than my other exploits.

So if you're out there, reading this, and maybe feeling like you're not living up to your potential, then why not join me? No one says we have to be perfect, but what's keeping us from being better? That pygmy goat? Well, that's what you get for living on a miniature farm.