On the demerits of being happy...
A sad truth: it’s much harder to update when I’m happy. When my routine is in disarray and my legs are screaming for mercy and I have to fight for each mile, then I have plenty to say. My bitching and moaning is entertaining (at least to me). And it provides a contrast for the times when I can crow about just how fantastic I am.
But after a while, if I stay happy, it gets old. It’s like that Tolstoy quote: “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” To paraphrase: happy is boring. And, boringly, I’m quite happy. So I will do a very business-like update, just so you don’t forget all about me.
Update on running: I’m still doing it, and still enjoying myself. Last Saturday was our first 10 mile run, and I’m more excited about that number than I expected to be. My dad, who is a math-and-science-loving and all-around-cool guy, had something he liked to tell us (his kids) when we turned 10: that it was the first order of magnitude shift of our lifetime. And since I can say with relative confidence that I will not be attempting 100-mile runs in this lifetime, whether or not I live a century, this will almost certainly be the only order of magnitude shift for me. And it was a really good run.
On another numbers front, if you check out the miles tally at the left, you’ll see that, since January, I’ve run well over 100 miles (which is where I’ll have to take my extra digits from now on). That’s more than four marathons in only three months. Go me.
Update on my knee: First of all, a housekeeping matter. I’ve decided that if I’m going to talk (and complain) about my left knee with as much frequency as has been the case so far, it will need a name. So, from now on, my left knee will be referred to as Jen. I’m naming her after two uninspired but persistent bullies from my elementary school bus**. They weren’t very clever or interesting, but day after day they made their presence felt.
And just like her namesakes, I’ve decided the best way to handle Jen is to ignore her, because she thrives on the attention. That decision was reinforced on Saturday, when I tried to shut her up by wearing a P-T band brace for the 10 mile run. During the run it seemed to help, but as soon as I took it off, and for the next two days, Jen was throbbing, and it put into perspective the mild discomfort I’d been feeling up until then. Plus, I spoke to my coach (the ever-wonderful Coach Everyman), and, based on my description, he felt confident that I wasn’t doing any lasting damage, and that with more miles and stronger legs, the pain will only decrease.
So, Jen, shut up. You’re not the boss of me.
Update on fundraising: I haven’t talked about this much here, because the point of the journal was to talk about running. Plus, I have been feeling some ambivalence towards the fundraising process.
On the one hand, the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society does wonderful things, including funding important research and generally providing support to families dealing with diagnoses. Honestly, if I, or anyone I loved, were ever diagnosed with a blood cancer, I can already see all the ways I would benefit from the LLS, starting from the informational materials they provide on the internet and at hospitals to help new patients understand what’s wrong and how to proceed. I’m proud to be helping them, and that my actions (running, fundraising) will have a larger impact than just on my own health.
On the other hand, though, the truth is that I started this process for me, and the fundraising was simply a sidebar. I often feel like I’m asking people to give me money because I chose a new hobby, and as much as I believe in the cause, it’s hard to ask. That being said, my friends and family have been extremely generous (and supportive, even if many of them are completely baffled by my marathon-aspirations), and I am now within 80% of my fundraising goal. So yay for my family and friends. Not like I needed the proof, but you all rock.
** I have met several lovely Jennifers since those days, but my dislike for the name was solidified at a young age. It happens. Don’t be offended if that’s your name.
But after a while, if I stay happy, it gets old. It’s like that Tolstoy quote: “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” To paraphrase: happy is boring. And, boringly, I’m quite happy. So I will do a very business-like update, just so you don’t forget all about me.
Update on running: I’m still doing it, and still enjoying myself. Last Saturday was our first 10 mile run, and I’m more excited about that number than I expected to be. My dad, who is a math-and-science-loving and all-around-cool guy, had something he liked to tell us (his kids) when we turned 10: that it was the first order of magnitude shift of our lifetime. And since I can say with relative confidence that I will not be attempting 100-mile runs in this lifetime, whether or not I live a century, this will almost certainly be the only order of magnitude shift for me. And it was a really good run.
On another numbers front, if you check out the miles tally at the left, you’ll see that, since January, I’ve run well over 100 miles (which is where I’ll have to take my extra digits from now on). That’s more than four marathons in only three months. Go me.
Update on my knee: First of all, a housekeeping matter. I’ve decided that if I’m going to talk (and complain) about my left knee with as much frequency as has been the case so far, it will need a name. So, from now on, my left knee will be referred to as Jen. I’m naming her after two uninspired but persistent bullies from my elementary school bus**. They weren’t very clever or interesting, but day after day they made their presence felt.
And just like her namesakes, I’ve decided the best way to handle Jen is to ignore her, because she thrives on the attention. That decision was reinforced on Saturday, when I tried to shut her up by wearing a P-T band brace for the 10 mile run. During the run it seemed to help, but as soon as I took it off, and for the next two days, Jen was throbbing, and it put into perspective the mild discomfort I’d been feeling up until then. Plus, I spoke to my coach (the ever-wonderful Coach Everyman), and, based on my description, he felt confident that I wasn’t doing any lasting damage, and that with more miles and stronger legs, the pain will only decrease.
So, Jen, shut up. You’re not the boss of me.
Update on fundraising: I haven’t talked about this much here, because the point of the journal was to talk about running. Plus, I have been feeling some ambivalence towards the fundraising process.
On the one hand, the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society does wonderful things, including funding important research and generally providing support to families dealing with diagnoses. Honestly, if I, or anyone I loved, were ever diagnosed with a blood cancer, I can already see all the ways I would benefit from the LLS, starting from the informational materials they provide on the internet and at hospitals to help new patients understand what’s wrong and how to proceed. I’m proud to be helping them, and that my actions (running, fundraising) will have a larger impact than just on my own health.
On the other hand, though, the truth is that I started this process for me, and the fundraising was simply a sidebar. I often feel like I’m asking people to give me money because I chose a new hobby, and as much as I believe in the cause, it’s hard to ask. That being said, my friends and family have been extremely generous (and supportive, even if many of them are completely baffled by my marathon-aspirations), and I am now within 80% of my fundraising goal. So yay for my family and friends. Not like I needed the proof, but you all rock.
** I have met several lovely Jennifers since those days, but my dislike for the name was solidified at a young age. It happens. Don’t be offended if that’s your name.
posted by Noames at 11:51 AM
3 Comments:
Yes, happiness is boring. But it's a good kind of boring. The best kind.
Keep an eye on Jen. Aches and pains are quite normal but as you know, you can never trust a bully.
Congrats on the 10 mile run!!! That is quite a milestone. It is a huge thing to accomplish.
You ignore ol' Jen all you want but if that bully starts causing you to drive off the road you better pull over and check the tire pressure. Maybe you need some new rubber on those wheels.
Oh, and don't worry. Be Happy. Your brother doesn't sit on you anymore.
HA! That's hilarious--I read that comment, and I was all, "Who's David? How does he know about my brother?"
I guess I should read my own entries every once in a while, huh?
And don't worry, I may be singing, "la-la-la-la-la, I can't HEAR you, Jen, la-la-la-la-la", with my eyes closed and my fingers in my ears, but I'm peeking just the tiniest bit. If Jen gets too out of line, or continues to bug me, I'll have a talk with the bus driver.
How's that for an extended metaphor?
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