I've got the KNACK for SPEED.

I've no need for speed yet, but I have found that I am actually quite good at speed training.

Two days nigh, my little brothers, aged ten and twelve, and I were playing frisbee in the back yard. After the third time we had to hop the fence to retrieve the frisbee from the wood behind our house, I suggested foot races. (Before you judge me too harshly, I gave them head starts.)

In the heat of the competition, I hit my stride. I loved running for a few minutes.

As soon as bragging rights or short-term goals were taken away, it felt like I was punishing myself again. Lesson learned. I need more manageable goals in order to push myself toward the ultimate goal.

Day two, I took the youngest brother down the street and across the way to the cranberry bog where it all began. We turned miles into a series of short races, half of which he didn't run. I still scoped out my target, ran to it, and returned to him.

Even without the immediate threat of "loss," I still outperformed with company and with speed than I did when I jogged alone. It's almost as though using my whole body -- arms slicing the air in front of me, obliques twisting with effort, strides wide -- tapped into a more primal feedback loop. Intellect went right out my flaring nostrils. I was at once a prehistoric woman, scooping up her child and running to safety from a saber-toothed tiger. I was a prokaryote, chasing down a weaker counterpart to envelope and consume it. I was then. I was now.

Conversely, jogging -- in place or through space -- already feels half-assed, so I can't bloody well push through the pain of a lackluster performance. I quit. I wheeze. I grumble.

Now, to be fair, I've no idea how to apply this principle to my loftier goal -- a marathon, just yet. I am reasonably sure there is no physical way for me to run so hard for 26.2 consecutive miles. I get the feeling I would die. Speed training is supposed to come AFTER achieving distance. Ack-basswards just fits for now.

10,000 daily step average is in the works, too. I'll let you know how it goes.

A Caitlyn in motion tends to stay in motion

until acted upon by an outside virus.
or a barrage of adult beverages.
or quality time with a cute guy.
or four consecutive days of less than two hours of sleep.

or anything even vaguely distracting.
blurf. sorry.

My average number of steps in a day is 9000. My number of steps taken in one mile is 2373. Sooo, yeah. I only have to pepper in -- wait, summer math.

26.2 * 2373 =  62172.6 steps in a mile, approximately.
62172.6 - 9000 = 53172.6 steps needed to add to my daily routine to walk a marathon-length.

... that's not so -- okay, that's pretty unbelievable. I may have even skewed my results a little because I knew I was wearing a pedometer. who has time to take that many steps? looks like I have some work to do.

Starting tomorrow, I am going to wake up early (I'm thinking 7 -- anything earlier on a day off is purest blasphemy) and see if I can't up my step-count. get back on track, yeahhh.

How many days is it again to create a habit?? 21?

I can see your muscles when you move.

"Nuh-uh, you have skin."

Creepiest compliment ever received? perhaps not, but someone noticed my progress!

I have some Michelle Obama ie rockin' arms. I have more than one ab. I still can't run three, unbroken miles. This begs the question to be asked, WHY IS THIS SO HARD?

It could be that cup of chocolate whipped cream I consumed on my fifteen...
I need the calories.

LEAVE ME ALONE.

P.S. Finally bought that pedometer. today. footsteps research will be conducted this week and reported immediately.

progress.

I have not made a whole lot of it. I'll tell you that much right now. Let's begin at the beginning, shall we?

Days 1-7: totally forgot. I had an 11 day stretch at work, so I pretty much focused on getting through those days without ending a life.
Day 8: rained, so I awarded myself a day of rest.
Day 9: finally, a beautiful day! I stretched, warmed up, and power-walked over to the cranberry bog whose circumference is just over 3 miles. It fit with the running plan I had chosen, to start running three miles and work your way up.

Trouble is, I am one of those runners who gets halfway through a thirty minute workout on the elliptical and grumbles because it's only been fifteen minutes. So, I overshot my abilities by about a mile and a half by assuming that 3 miles my first day was doable. Never mind that I would have to increase my running time by a mile each day until the weekend.

Well, reader, I got halfway around the cranberry bog at a light jog in the muggy Cape air... then stopped and dry-heaved.

And this, my friend, is why I have never met a man at the gym. Partially because I don't have a gym membership, but also because I feel as though I need to work out before I can qualify for a gym. It's a sad state of affairs to watch me work out after a break from fitness. Even at my peak, my nose runs when I do. Ahhhh-tractive.

And the first place to break out in a sweat is the skin above my upper lip. I have yet to find a sweatband designed for under one's nose. So even if someone spotted me from afar and thought, hey, that girl is cute despite the wet dog-nose reaction, the dry-heaving would probably dissuade most (if not all).

I digress.

So I finished the walk, powerfully I may add, jogging whenever I felt able (which admittedly was like twice). I sat down on the couch and felt like dying. A cute delivery man at the door did not help matters. BUT he did leave me with a good thought: how am I to push my limits if I don't know what they are?

Right, every day a little better, a little stronger. This thought has become my mantra. Every day a little better, a little stronger.
I haven't yet exceeded my three-mile continuous mark yet, but I've only just begun. I hurt in all of the places there are to hurt. I sleep better than I had at the beginning of my journey. I am making my own health and wellness a priority. I don't stretch enough.

I am imperfect.

As are we all. But still, I carry on. Next on my to-do list is a pedometer. (Tony the Tiger pedometer is dead and gone after three steps. With free stuff, sometimes you get what you pay for.) I want to figure out how many of my own steps are needed to make up one mile. A quick google search says 2000, but some days that seems like too many, and some days that doesn't seem like nearly enough. And then I want to add more steps to my daily routine instead of being a couch potato and kill myself running. Well, off to my elliptical since the weather is less than stellar! Have a lovely existence.

running for someone who REALLY hates running.

to put it plainly, I hate running. hate. but yours truly needed a summer project (and an excuse to meet Michael J. Fox), so I have decided to start training for a marathon. the Boston Marathon. apparently, I dig discomfort.

I would like to claim a loftier fitness goal, but really, all I'm looking for is to be more graceful than this:





           
I think that's doable, right?

magical thinking.

you make your own happiness.

you make your own sadness.

either way, it's up to you.