Lately I've been pondering something else, I've been blogging on the "other" blog. The B blog. Well it really gets all the attention so it should be called the A blog. Anyway I've been trying to decide which blog ought to be the A blog and what the subject matter of said blog should be. I hate to always talk about weight loss. That's dull. I mean clearly it's a theme in the lives of about 50% of Americans but shit who wants to hear about it all the time? Not me. That's for damn sure. Recently I've been dealing with some religion issues but I don't want to blog about that because who wants to hear about religion? Not me. That's for damn sure. Hm. It wouldn't be totally unreasonable to talk about running. I spend at least 6 hours a week actually doing it and about 50% of the rest of the time thinking about it. How to be faster. How to run longer. What races I'm going to do this year. If my broken leg will ever be 100% again. Where I will run. When I will run. It's an exhaustive list really. But then non-runners probably don't want to hear about my running. Well then I guess I don't really have any worries since no one reads my blog which is good because my dream to one day be a real author will never be realized. Darn.
SO maybe I'll just blog what I've been blogging. Nothing. Random thoughts of zip.
I went to the gym today. It's a torture chamber but I love it. I tanned. I don't like tanning per se. I don't want to age prematurely or have a bunch of wrinkles or look like Magda on Something About Mary but it's so f__ing dreary here. The fog and the overcast. Blech. If blech isn't a word, too bad. I just made it one. In any case I hit the bed because frankly I like I'm getting SAD. Not the traditional sad but the SAD kind. The kind of SAD you get when you live in a place like Washington state where is rains like 364 days of the year (I live in California in a place where it rains like 4 days a year but I have nothing against Washington. Thanks for the apples Washingtonians and btw I think I'd like to live there). Anyway a little tanning bed action for about 10 minutes, just enough to synthesize some vitamin D and then I hit the dreaded weight room. Dun dun dun. The men in there frighten me. There is a dude there whose bicep is 18 inches. 18 inches. Seriously. Yikes. My thigh is 19 inches. And I think that's kind of big. Well anyway, the dep (aka hubbie) and I went in there together so he could tell me what to do and make sure I don't look like a man in the process. So far so good. Then some resistance work. Inner, outer thigh and the calves. My poor poor calves. The right one is a full 3/4 inch smaller than the the left so I did that machine. Ouch. I did some free weights and that will hurt tomorrow, then I drug him to the treadmill because we nurses believe in cardio. :) 15 minutes of running at 90-95% of MHR (which is too high btw just for those who wonder).
Let me tell you how I used to feel about the gym. I joined the gym a little of two years ago. I can't remember what possessed me to even walk in the door of the place but I joined and we went a bit, you know, typical gym behavior. Go a little while then stop. Then we used it periodically. I'll admit there were months where the $88 was completely wasted. Not one of us stepped one foot in the place. Then I started losing weight. I started running to boost the loss and the unthinkable happened. I discovered that I, perpetual shopper and hater of sweat, liked running. A lot. And then the second unthinkable happened. I broke my fibula. Running, no. Walking, barely. So that gym membership cam in right handy. It had been so long since I'd been in the gym that the guy at the front counter welcomed me as a new member. The elliptical and I became very good friends. Best buds you might say. I went and visited her 5 days a week sometimes 6 and started logging miles. Just hoping to keep the cardio up (you know we nurses believe in cardio). Then on November 19th it was sunny. I was feeling good. Things at home had been a little troublesome, I won't elaborate but I needed a release. I needed a workout and felt compelled to put on my shoes and try the road. I got out the nike+, my favorite running partner and just went. I ran 3.59 miles that day with an average pace of 10:56 , let me quantify that by saying this, in the day I broke my leg my average pace was 12:29. I had only broken the 12 minute mile barrier once before my injury. So there is something to be said for the elliptical. Oh it's not like the road. Not in the slightest. But, just the movement, the action of getting your heart beating and your body moving, was enough to help me shave almost two minutes off my mile time. My most recent run was a 10:26 pace and the day before that (when I wasn't hurting) 10:03 average. If I didn't warm up with the + running I'd break 9 minutes. Low 9. That's a good good thing.
OK now for the disclaimer: the Nike+ is not 100% accurate. I mean from run to run it's accurate for me and it's not far off overall. The day I did the 5K the nike+ thought I ran 3.3 miles instead of 3.1. I'm not sure if the course was really 3.1 miles but provided it was then the accuracy is off by that small of an error. 0.1 miles per mile maybe. Not bad for a $30 gadget. I don't work for nike but if that thing even breaks I will absolutely cry. I love my Nike + almost as much as my Sauchony shoes and my champion sports bra (and I don't work for them either)
OK I suppose that will conclude today's installment and I'll be back tomorrow to talk about nothing some more.
0 comments:
Post a Comment