httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uZ-5mM5HVYM

I decided to do my long run on Friday night this week so I could stay up late to watch the Olympic opening ceremonies without fretting about having to get up early on Saturday.  For a variety of reasons too boring to discuss, I opted to do it on the treadmill.  I had never done a long run on the treadmill before, so I figured it would also be good mental training in overcoming boredom.

As I was merrily pounding away, minding my own business, my treadmill suddenly slowed and stopped.  The display said “End”.  End?  End of what?  Not my workout, that’s for sure!  It took me a couple of seconds to realize that with the clock display only having 4 digits, it doesn’t count any higher than 99 minutes.  Of course I was annoyed, because once it stops, it won’t show you the display, so I didn’t know how far I had gone.  I would have to restart the clock, then estimate my total distance based on my time and the various speeds I had used.

But then I had a little laugh.  Here I thought I would never make it the 2+ hours I needed to finish my long run, and in the end, in some small way, I had outlasted my treadmill.

I think I am the least coordinated person I know.  When I attempted to learn to play tennis, I got really good at “fetch.”  Someone invited me to sub on an inner tube water polo team – once.  The rule when playing volleyball in the neighbour’s pool is the person to hit the last ball out has to go and get them all; I spend more time on the deck than in the water.

I knew this when I took up running.  Running was great – just one foot, other foot.  Thankfully the opposite-arm thing comes pretty naturally.

Then, as you know, I decided to try a Runner’s Boot Camp.

4 weeks later, I am happy to inform you that I’m not dead yet,  and I am fairly certain that they aren’t actually trying to kill us after all.  I am not nearly as sore as I was after the first workout, and I think I am actually getting better at a few of the exercises.

But the coordination thing is still haunting me.  There is this one thing that we do (well, everyone else does) where you hop on one foot, then kick out front with the other.  It looks straightforward.  Everyone else seems to be able to handle it (granted I am not paying attention to them since I am concentrating so hard).  But for the life of me, I cannot get this right.  It is so beyond me that I don’t even know what it’s called.  For 60 seconds I try, then I stop and watch again, then I hop, I try to kick, I watch some more, and I will that minute to hurry up and finish because I think I must have 3 legs or something.

The great part about that is, I have actually grown to not hate things like burpees, tuck jumps and mountain climbs so much because, trembling quads aside, at least I can do them!

You go out for a run, and it is cold.  I mean really cold.  You warm up after while, and it’s not so bad.  Then you get home, your hat and eyelashes are completely frosted over, your skin is all pink, and you feel invigorated.  You also feel a little puffed up because despite the weather, you went out for a run, and you think, “look at me, I’m hardcore!”

Then someone does look at you, sizes up the frost, watches you stomp the snow off your shoes, and says: “You’re crazy.”

From Dictionary.com:

tread⋅mill [tred-mil]–noun

1. an apparatus for producing rotary motion by the weight of people or animals, treading on a succession of moving steps or a belt that forms a kind of continuous path, as around the periphery of a pair of horizontal cylinders.

2. an exercise machine that allows the user to walk or run in place, usually on a continuous moving belt.

3. any monotonous, wearisome routine in which there is little or no satisfactory progress.

I’ve called it a hamster wheel and a dreadmill, and I’ve often defined it as #3 above.  But as much as I deride it, man, am I ever glad to have the option to say, “not today! I am staying in with my cup holders, my fan and my TV.”

(and for more reasons to love the grind, or tips to help you pick one out, check out this article!)

When I was a kid, I was that kid.  The kid who got picked last for everything, except for that one time when there was a new girl and neither captain wanted to take a chance on her.  That only happened once since they discovered that she was actually pretty good, and every new kid after that got picked before me because it was apparently worth the risk.

I was the kid who didn’t get to finish the distance run in the fifth grade Canada Fitness test because the class ended before I finished, and the teacher told me to come on back, probably thinking I would be relieved, when in reality, I was crushed.

I was the kid who was so bad, I stopped trying.

As soon as I had that one mandatory high school credit, I stopped taking gym.

The irony here is that in grade 9, gym class wasn’t so bad.  It was an all-girls class with a teacher who rewarded consistent effort and improvement as much as talent and skill.  I actually made progress that semester, to the point where I passed the final 12-minute run by a very comfortable margin (okay so our teacher psyched us out, telling us that in order to pass we needed to run 20 laps of the gym, when in reality we only needed 16 – but clearly it worked, because had she said 16, I am sure more than a few of us would have done just that).  But by then I had been counting down to the end of mandatory gym class for so long that there was no way I would ever voluntarily sign up for another.

Just when there was finally some hope for me, I took that bit of fitness I had gained and ran as far away from gym as I could possibly get.  So that’s my dirty little secret.  Kind of sad, I know – but it goes to show you that there’s hope!

All that time I thought I hated physical activity, but it turns out I just hated gym class!

Weird confession time:  I don’t like walking places.  Don’t get me wrong, I still like going for walks as an activity, but when it comes walking in order to get to a destination, I’d really rather not.

You would think that as a runner, I would be keen to take the stairs, park away from the door and walk through the lot, or walk to work on a regular basis.  But no.  I don’t think it is because I am being lazy – it’s that walking to get somewhere feels so darned slow and tedious!

Take this morning for example: I ran for an hour, and then walked to work.  Trudging along the sidewalk just seemed to take forever!  Between forcing the pace and wearing wildly inappropriate footwear (okay, so that part is totally avoidable) I actually made my shins ache.

Even reading back through what I have just written, it looks crazy, but I know I am not the only one!  I have had discussions with other runners who feel the same way.

What about you?

I started a new workout class this week:  Runner’s Boot Camp.

If, like me, you have never done a “boot camp” class before, this particular one is an interval workout of 60 seconds of stress, 30 seconds of rest, about a billion times.  Each of the drills was chosen because it targets a particular running motion or muscle, the idea being to build strength and improve form.

When I arrived, I got a lovely warm welcome from two ladies who had been to camp before, Sharon and Wendy.  Their tip to me was this: David, the instructor, is really fit, so don’t be intimidated by his pace, just go your own pace and you’ll be okay.  I listened to them, but found myself trying to keep up with his wild “onetwonetwoonetwo” in spite of myself, with the result of not being able to complete the full 60 seconds a few times.  Oh, and I don’t know if I will ever be able to jump that high.

I’m not 100% sure how I feel about it yet.  I mean, it’s a workout, and I don’t expect a workout to be easy.  Having said that, this workout was really hard.  In the middle, I heard myself think “I don’t think this is for me!”  But then, the end seemed to come very suddenly, and I found myself very surprised that I survived.  The fact that I made it through was encouraging!

Now, a few days later, I have to say that I didn’t experience as much delayed-onset muscle soreness as I expected, but I did hurt in a few places I didn’t really know I had.  Seriously, this one spot I thought was a fatty deposit must have a muscle in it that I have never once in my life used, because it hurts now.  Who knew?

Ultimately, I am sure this will be good for me, so I plan to give it a fair shot.  I can’t say I enjoyed the first night, but hey, not every workout can be running!