Seven Mile Itch

So basically running is not like sex or riding a bike or whatever analogy that is...David was gone all week and I was not able to run at all. Just a few miles on the treadmill...which if you read my post a week or so ago-you know how I feel about the treadmill. Oh...and I attempted to go after dropping the kids off at school-so say 9:30 ish. I was like a vampire going to meet the sun. Literally burning alive. I am guessing people in SoFla only run between the hours of 11pm -7am. Kind of like highway construction hours. It was just too damn hot so I had to do the unthinkable...walk. Long story short, I can not just not run and then pick up and run great. Maybe real athlestes can but fat Jewish girls who live in the suburbs can't.

I am not gonna harp on that though. So, luckily, or unluckily, I had Saturday off b/c of Rosh Hashana. However, as we celebrated Saturday night...I couldn't help but think the two pound matzoh ball coupled with the gut-sticking brisket was not going to make for a stellar combo Sunday morning for the six mile run. It started off okay but by about mile three, I seemed to have been given a "babysitter." Yeah-the coaches are super nice and basically they are super humans who can basically run probably 100 miles a day, stop and get gas, and go another 100. They are crazy...and they don't even sweat. I am just dragging, wheezing, laden down with matzoh balls when my nice kind coach comes and helps me out. Keeps me company and keeps me from thinking about all I am thinking about which is basically this: "I wanna die, I am so f-ing hot and tired, is it too much to ask one of the other runners to carry me on their back for the remainder..." You get the idea. But, it really did help and I am happy to say I did complete all six miles running...well, when I say running imagine running with a walker but add tennis balls on a newly waxed floor walker-that pace of running. This Saturday is seven miles...am getting up at 5am tmw to run so I am ready for Saturday. It is 8:00 now so a bit past my bedtime:)

On another note, I have also decided, much to my chagrin, that I am actually immune to diet and exercise. Completely immune. I run, I elliptical, I do weights...all for naught. I watch what I eat-for fucks sake I am eating spinach and wheat germ...and what do I have to show for it??? Nothing. So-if anyone out there reading this knows anything about the condition about being immune to healthy habits, let me know, And if anyone dares say that I need to step up my workouts, I will step it up with a foot in your ass. Basically, in one week I am running like the distance from here to Delray and back PLUS weights PLUS that stupid ass elliptical machine for ONE hour at level 11. I am not giving up though...in the spirit of every female celebrity caught in an unflattering pose, I will say that I love my womanly body no matter what and do not need to conform to any unnatural standards. And then like Jennifer Love Hewitt and K-Hole Kardashian, I will proceed to lose 25 pounds to demonstrate this love for my body. This will fool my body into doing what I will it. A big game of na-na-na-naaa-naa.

Wish me luck for seven miles on Saturday-I am nauseous thinking about it. Hmmm...maybe that is a good appetite suppressant.

Help a girl out and donate at:

http://pages.teamintraining.org/sfl/wdw10/ksingerxn7

You know you want to....:)

Nothing Magical About That

I have no idea what week I am on...I just know I am really tired.

This past week was kind of nice though-not for my running partner who was injured, but for me who got a bit of a break. If I feel there is any weakness I can seize upon, I will, So, when she told me her ankles were bothering her-and not from a crazy hanging from the chandeliers kind of way-I knew I could get a shorter run in. When we arrived at said corner, I felt no guilt in throwing out the "maybe we should walk a little" idea. After all, she has weak ankles. That was a nice little reprieve.

Later that week, I was also forced to do something I despise. As if I did not think running was enough of a pain in the ass, foot, and knee as it is, I had to run on the treadmill-because of the injured partner. Running on a treadmill to me is like being in a padded cell without being crazy. It will drive you to it. Basically, you run your heart out...and for what? At the end of 45 minutes, I have gone nowhere, seen nothing, swallowed no bugs, or made a fake smile at any passerbys. Ugh...it is SO boring. Even so, I really enjoyed the fans they have on those thigamajiggys. It is kind of saying to you-"yes, running inside totally blows but here is some recirculated air to trick you into thinking there is a cool breeze." Nice.

Saturday was our "magic mile" day. I was informed by a friend there would be no real running this day. I say informed b/c I rely on others for details. Otherwise I would have to sift through all the training emails myself...dumping my responsibilites on others is something I am pretty good at so I try to be consistent. Anywho, she informed me we would simply be running ONE mile as a determination of speed and finish time for the race. So, I had a grand ole Friday night. After all I could run one mile with my ankles duct taped together at this point. There was drinks, desert, more drinks, lots of appetizers...yummmm.

Magic Mile morning comes...I am fucked. No holds barred-just plain fucked. Evidently, you run this Magic Mile after you completed three other miles and top it off with another mile-just for good measure. I draaaaaaaaaaged my ass. I mean, literally. My ass felt so heavy from merriment I really considered........joining the walking group. But, you can't really come back from that so I decided to man up. The walking group to me is like this-there are Doctors (the runners), and Dentists (run/walkers) and then Chiropracters (walkers). Sorry-just my own little hierarchy. Took it real slow the two miles...I shoggled (shuffle/jog-I think it should be a word) the whole way. But, when the Magic Mile time came, I did kick it into gear. In fact, I beat my normal lap time by almost 1.30 which was decent. There was a side effect though...it took me a solid half hour to be able to inhale, see without spots, and rid myself of my Quasimodo hump. So-no way am I running anywhere that fast again. Just wanted to show them I could do it. No reason except now it is documented and will be used to place me in the actual run in the correct group. I think I may be the first person in marathon history to be trampled alive.