Running on Jupiter
So yesterday’s run… It was ugly, y’all.
There was no reason for it to suck so hard. In fact, there was every reason to expect that it would be joyful. Spring had sprung just one day before, the sun had shone all day, it was legitimately warm (as opposed to being, you know, less than horrifically freezing—and by the way, I just spoke to my brother in New York, where it is apparently snowing, so yay for southern living) and, even though I had to stay a bit late at work, it wasn’t even completely dark by the time I set out. I was seriously one bluebird on my shoulder away from Zip-a-dee-doo-dah.
And yet, the suckage. For one thing, both Jens were way pissed off. They’d been pretty quiet during my long run on Saturday, but I’d iced them afterwards anyway. Still, I probably didn’t walk around enough during the cool down, plus I didn’t do my workout on Sunday. And I kind of think they need to keep moving, at this point, or they get sulky.
Also? For all that spring is great, with the sun and the flowers, there are some things I could do without. Topping that list right now is the foul-smelling fertilizer that is now blanketing my fair city. Green grass is great and all, but that stuff has GOT to be hazardous to my health. Or at least to my finely tuned olfactory aesthetic. (It really is all about me.)
But the main problem was that somehow between Saturday and yesterday, I seemed to have gained about 100 lbs. That’s the only explanation I can come up with, unless gravity suddenly got a lot stronger in my neighborhood. I kept looking behind me to see if I could shake off whoever or whatever I was dragging behind me, but there was nothing there.
For real, guys, it just felt like I couldn’t move. I didn’t feel winded or tired, but it was like slogging through pea soup (what an ugly cliché). The humidity wasn’t helping, for sure, and I’d probably dressed too warmly. Plus, I could have picked better music (Indigo Girls aren’t exactly known for their heart-pounding beats**), but I’ve never felt that heavy and slow before.
I finally gave up after barely 3 miles, and decided to switch tacks. I headed to the gym for strength training, which I hadn’t really done in a few weeks. So it wasn’t a total wash. But seriously, y’all, it was officially not fun.
Meanwhile, spring continued its non-love affair with me today by pouring rain all day long. It had stopped by the time I got home, but the ground was all puddly and muddy and gross, so I decided to go to the gym again for some cross-training on the stationary bike.
And in a surprise twist ending, that no one saw coming (M. Night Shaymalan worthy, for sure) when I’d finished my bike workout, I decided to hop on the treadmill for just one mile. I wanted to see how fast I could go.
Eight minutes and fifty-eight seconds.
In case you didn’t notice, that’s less than nine minutes.
It is also the fastest I have ever run a mile in m’whole life. By a pretty wide margin, actually. The last time I really timed myself running a mile was when we were still doing the Presidential Fitness tests in school, and the fastest I ever remember being able to go was nine-thirty-something, and I was probably eleven years old at the time.
And, yeah, it’s just a treadmill, with no incline or wind resistance or anything, but still? It was pretty awesome.
**Side story: Reading about Susan’s recent Indigo Girls concert date reminded me of the first concert of theirs that I went to with Anna, back in high school when they were my favoritest band in the whole wide world. It was in New Jersey, and thus not reachable by public transportation, so Anna’s mom drove us, and, bless her, disappeared for the concert itself. That was a year of concerts for my friends and me — I’d already been to Alanis Morissette and Sheryl Crow, and there was a Natalie Merchant concert at some point that year (I sure loved me some angsty chick rock back then) — but I couldn’t have been more excited for that Indigo Girls concert if they were giving out tickets to heaven.
There was no reason for it to suck so hard. In fact, there was every reason to expect that it would be joyful. Spring had sprung just one day before, the sun had shone all day, it was legitimately warm (as opposed to being, you know, less than horrifically freezing—and by the way, I just spoke to my brother in New York, where it is apparently snowing, so yay for southern living) and, even though I had to stay a bit late at work, it wasn’t even completely dark by the time I set out. I was seriously one bluebird on my shoulder away from Zip-a-dee-doo-dah.
And yet, the suckage. For one thing, both Jens were way pissed off. They’d been pretty quiet during my long run on Saturday, but I’d iced them afterwards anyway. Still, I probably didn’t walk around enough during the cool down, plus I didn’t do my workout on Sunday. And I kind of think they need to keep moving, at this point, or they get sulky.
Also? For all that spring is great, with the sun and the flowers, there are some things I could do without. Topping that list right now is the foul-smelling fertilizer that is now blanketing my fair city. Green grass is great and all, but that stuff has GOT to be hazardous to my health. Or at least to my finely tuned olfactory aesthetic. (It really is all about me.)
But the main problem was that somehow between Saturday and yesterday, I seemed to have gained about 100 lbs. That’s the only explanation I can come up with, unless gravity suddenly got a lot stronger in my neighborhood. I kept looking behind me to see if I could shake off whoever or whatever I was dragging behind me, but there was nothing there.
For real, guys, it just felt like I couldn’t move. I didn’t feel winded or tired, but it was like slogging through pea soup (what an ugly cliché). The humidity wasn’t helping, for sure, and I’d probably dressed too warmly. Plus, I could have picked better music (Indigo Girls aren’t exactly known for their heart-pounding beats**), but I’ve never felt that heavy and slow before.
I finally gave up after barely 3 miles, and decided to switch tacks. I headed to the gym for strength training, which I hadn’t really done in a few weeks. So it wasn’t a total wash. But seriously, y’all, it was officially not fun.
Meanwhile, spring continued its non-love affair with me today by pouring rain all day long. It had stopped by the time I got home, but the ground was all puddly and muddy and gross, so I decided to go to the gym again for some cross-training on the stationary bike.
And in a surprise twist ending, that no one saw coming (M. Night Shaymalan worthy, for sure) when I’d finished my bike workout, I decided to hop on the treadmill for just one mile. I wanted to see how fast I could go.
Eight minutes and fifty-eight seconds.
In case you didn’t notice, that’s less than nine minutes.
It is also the fastest I have ever run a mile in m’whole life. By a pretty wide margin, actually. The last time I really timed myself running a mile was when we were still doing the Presidential Fitness tests in school, and the fastest I ever remember being able to go was nine-thirty-something, and I was probably eleven years old at the time.
And, yeah, it’s just a treadmill, with no incline or wind resistance or anything, but still? It was pretty awesome.
**Side story: Reading about Susan’s recent Indigo Girls concert date reminded me of the first concert of theirs that I went to with Anna, back in high school when they were my favoritest band in the whole wide world. It was in New Jersey, and thus not reachable by public transportation, so Anna’s mom drove us, and, bless her, disappeared for the concert itself. That was a year of concerts for my friends and me — I’d already been to Alanis Morissette and Sheryl Crow, and there was a Natalie Merchant concert at some point that year (I sure loved me some angsty chick rock back then) — but I couldn’t have been more excited for that Indigo Girls concert if they were giving out tickets to heaven.
posted by Noames at 10:26 PM
2 Comments:
Technically, I don't think you can really run on Jupiter, seeing as that it is a gaseous planet, but you can probably run in Jupiter. So yeah. Keep it up.
Woo hoo! Awesome about the sub-9!!! It took a long time for me to get there.
And your description of the sucky part of the run? That's what "The Wall" feels like. Only I think it's worse. I didn't hit the wall in the marathon but I did during my longest training run (22 miles) which occurred on a hot and humid day.
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