I'm back, baby!
If I were an international woman of mystery, my real name would be Natalya Tostordosky, but I wouldn’t tell you that.
If I were an international woman of mystery, I would frequently change my alias, and I would rendezvous with other international women of mystery to pick up my falsified documents.
If I were an international woman of mystery, I would meet strange characters on seedy, deserted street corners, and pay them to give me information about international men and women of villainy. And no one else would dare approach me for ill intent because I would have an aura of internationality and mystery that would signal to them, subconsciously, of course, that I was not a woman to be messed with.
And, if I were an international woman of mystery, I would change my routine daily, never following the same route home twice, never leaving or arriving at the same time. I would constantly be on the lookout for pursuers, who I could lose in the blink of an eye, but who I would occasionally lead on long, meandering chases through porn shops and expensive jewelry boutiques, sometimes to get a better look at them, and sometimes because even international women of mystery need entertainment.
Alas, I am not an international woman of mystery, and while I occasionally travel the world under alias, I loathe and despise changing my routine. So it is with newly rediscovered glee that I can report that I have returned to my post-work evening workout routine.
You, faithful readers, may not have been aware that I was still messing with that routine. In fact, ages ago, it seems, I wrote about how much I hated getting up in the morning to work out, only to discover that I still didn’t have enough time to finish everything. But, for a variety of reasons, including fun social plans in the evenings, and because I thought I could learn to love a new, early morning workout, I kept trying to wake up.
Well, it didn’t work, and I hated it. I managed to wake up most of the days, and to get to the gym on most of those days, but it just wasn’t the same. So last night, I ran after work, and still had plenty of time to do some weights, and make dinner, and watch Gilmore Girls and Veronica Mars (oh, TV, how I love thee).
*****
In other news, my run yesterday was fabulous. My knee hurt barely at all, the amount of hills to flat was just fine, it took the right amount of time, and there was plenty of room to make the run a bit longer as I get better at this.
However.
I ran along Beach Drive, in Rock Creek Park, and for all that trees are pretty, it was just too scary. By the time I got that far, it was good and dark, except for the headlights of passing cars, which were just blinding enough to remove any lingering visibility of the trail. Plus, they made it look like my shadow was following me, which was extra creepy.
During the day, there are tons of runners and bikers along that trail, but last night I was the only one, and I guess now I know why. And there didn’t happen to be any rapists or murderers last night, but I can’t help but think about Chandra Levy and how she died in Rock Creek Park, not to mention all the women who’ve died in Central Park in NY. And, if I were an international woman of mystery, I’d probably know six ways to kill a person with my pinky toe, but I’m not (see above), and I promised my grandmother that I wouldn’t do unsafe things in this big, scary city.
So my search for a nice, relatively flat, 4-5 mile loop in my neighborhood continues. Sigh. Running marathons is hard.
*****
Also, thanks for your helpful comments on the knee issue. I don’t think it was just because of the hills I ran, because I actually first noticed the problem on a treadmill run, but I’m sure the hills didn’t help. The Life-Altering Orthotics (of doom) ™ still haven’t arrived, but I’m hoping they’ll help, as will the strength training, and, of course, just being more in shape. Plus, I’ll ask my coaches for some advice on the stride/form question.
If I were an international woman of mystery, I would frequently change my alias, and I would rendezvous with other international women of mystery to pick up my falsified documents.
If I were an international woman of mystery, I would meet strange characters on seedy, deserted street corners, and pay them to give me information about international men and women of villainy. And no one else would dare approach me for ill intent because I would have an aura of internationality and mystery that would signal to them, subconsciously, of course, that I was not a woman to be messed with.
And, if I were an international woman of mystery, I would change my routine daily, never following the same route home twice, never leaving or arriving at the same time. I would constantly be on the lookout for pursuers, who I could lose in the blink of an eye, but who I would occasionally lead on long, meandering chases through porn shops and expensive jewelry boutiques, sometimes to get a better look at them, and sometimes because even international women of mystery need entertainment.
Alas, I am not an international woman of mystery, and while I occasionally travel the world under alias, I loathe and despise changing my routine. So it is with newly rediscovered glee that I can report that I have returned to my post-work evening workout routine.
You, faithful readers, may not have been aware that I was still messing with that routine. In fact, ages ago, it seems, I wrote about how much I hated getting up in the morning to work out, only to discover that I still didn’t have enough time to finish everything. But, for a variety of reasons, including fun social plans in the evenings, and because I thought I could learn to love a new, early morning workout, I kept trying to wake up.
Well, it didn’t work, and I hated it. I managed to wake up most of the days, and to get to the gym on most of those days, but it just wasn’t the same. So last night, I ran after work, and still had plenty of time to do some weights, and make dinner, and watch Gilmore Girls and Veronica Mars (oh, TV, how I love thee).
*****
In other news, my run yesterday was fabulous. My knee hurt barely at all, the amount of hills to flat was just fine, it took the right amount of time, and there was plenty of room to make the run a bit longer as I get better at this.
However.
I ran along Beach Drive, in Rock Creek Park, and for all that trees are pretty, it was just too scary. By the time I got that far, it was good and dark, except for the headlights of passing cars, which were just blinding enough to remove any lingering visibility of the trail. Plus, they made it look like my shadow was following me, which was extra creepy.
During the day, there are tons of runners and bikers along that trail, but last night I was the only one, and I guess now I know why. And there didn’t happen to be any rapists or murderers last night, but I can’t help but think about Chandra Levy and how she died in Rock Creek Park, not to mention all the women who’ve died in Central Park in NY. And, if I were an international woman of mystery, I’d probably know six ways to kill a person with my pinky toe, but I’m not (see above), and I promised my grandmother that I wouldn’t do unsafe things in this big, scary city.
So my search for a nice, relatively flat, 4-5 mile loop in my neighborhood continues. Sigh. Running marathons is hard.
*****
Also, thanks for your helpful comments on the knee issue. I don’t think it was just because of the hills I ran, because I actually first noticed the problem on a treadmill run, but I’m sure the hills didn’t help. The Life-Altering Orthotics (of doom) ™ still haven’t arrived, but I’m hoping they’ll help, as will the strength training, and, of course, just being more in shape. Plus, I’ll ask my coaches for some advice on the stride/form question.
posted by Noames at 2:04 PM
2 Comments:
I find international women of mystery to be so ... so mysterious. What is no mystery is that you're running again (Excellent) and happy about it.
A mysterious posting indeed.
I'm with Susan. I'm a 2nd dan black belt and I wouldn't want to run Rock Creek Park at night (I once lived near DC so I know the area).
BTW, exercise physiologists have demonstrated that people run differently on treadmills so it's possible you were doing something funny that ended up bothering your knee.
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