Chimp Chat

Surrender the half marathon

It's official: the Atlanta Half Marathon on Thanksgiving is not going to have me in it. I feel so relieved. My friend and I have committed to continuing to run, races even, but more like 5Ks, 8ks and 10ks. I can finally breathe.

half training for a half marathon

I've been training for a half marathon. I am running with a friend who runs a ton more than I do and is way more dedicated. Lately, I have been really tempted to give up.

The furthest I've run is 4 miles. Plus, the few short runs I do each week (except 2 weeks off to get hitched) have lulled me into thinking that boosting my overall cheesecake and ice cream intake is a fine idea. My legs are getting stronger, but my belly is beginning to flop out over the tops of my nylon running shorts. My heart feels like it is less eager to go into full arrest, but my triceps are threatening to knock me unconscious as I pump my arms to propel myself forward.

I got my wedding pix back and my arms look beefier than I had hoped. It's a real test of my self-love to keep myself from pointing that out to anyone who looks at them. "See those arms? Looking beefy right?"

How the eff am I ever going to run 13 miles? The course goes from Brookhaven all the way down Peachtree to downtown and then winds up somewhere around Turner Field. The thought of getting in my car and driving from one point to the other is daunting enough, much less running it!

But I will not give up. If anyone has any tips on how to train, pass them along (crickets commence chirping here). Seriously though, what do I eat the night before I run? (Did I mention we run at 5:45 AM?) What other type of training is most helpful? Weights? Pilate's? The race is Thanksgiving day, so realistically, how far should I be running at this point. My goal is to do a 5 mile run this weekend. How much distance can a novice like me add each week? If I make it to 10 miles and do that 2 or 3 times before the race, will I avoid embarrassing myself and finish?  Halp!

Pile Lattes

I just joined LA Fitness tonight and went to a Pilates class in an attempt to keep up my morale. Not the best idea since I am an extremely crimped up 37 year old lady and can't move in all those fancy positions.

One manipulation that killed me was where you lay on your side, kind of stacking your legs (not unlike cord wood). The top leg is in the stack is pulled into some cock-eyed position in front of your groin (do women have groins?). You then take your bottom leg and raise it to begin "painting circles on the wall." I think my leg was painting six-pointed stars or paisleys or something cuz it was going every which way and I had no ability to control it. It was like Ouji Pilates.

I am going to keep going so that I don't end up like my mother who is so un-limber that she has trouble picking up dropped objects.

alex, get your guns

I can barely walk even though it has been three days since I participated in that that hell-class they call Diesel at the gym. I got, as some older person from Kansas might refer to, as a real hitch in my git-a-long.

It was only an 30-minute class, and I came in 5 minutes late, but it still kicked my spongey ass. I actually think being late made me push myself even harder and so instead of getting less of a workout, I got more. Some people might think being this sore is good. I guess depends on whether you enjoy not being able to gingerly lower yourself down to the toilet seat without emitting a series of puppy-like yelps. It might fit under "a glass half full," but I am not sure how.

Then this guy at works says to me, "You got some guns going there." He called my arm guns. I don't want guns for arms. And guns developed by attending a class called Diesel point to one thing--something I am not. In fact, I am trying to be more feminine these days. Cute girls don't have guns, do they?

I intend to go back to the gym today. I might go running, but it will probably just look like race walking.