So, Wait, I Have To Stretch MORE?

(all touch and go)
10 DL @ 95lbs
10 DL @ 95lbs
5 DL @ 115
5 DL @ 135
1 DL @ 165

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My back started to twinge, just on one side, just a muscle, after the second set.  Just a twinge, some stiffness.  No big deal.  Except that it got worse and worse, until my trainer called it off.

Fucking heart breaking.  For a week my knees kept me from deadlifting, and as soon as they start behaving, my back kicks in.

Based on what felt tight, I haven't been stretching my hamstrings enough.  Fair point.  I'd been focusing solely on my IT band and hip flexors.  Lesson learned.  Stupid, annoying, painful, time consuming lesson.



So, we tried other things.

Weighted lunges?  Pain.

Jump rope?  Pain.

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We did some pull ups and side steps with curls.  And I complained the whole time.  So, to satisfy my need to do something COOL, we worked on heavy bench press.  95lbs with a hard stop.  Moving that from zero felt near impossible.  Which was awesome.  At some point it will be totally awesomely possible.

He also made me stretch, a ton.  And made me promise to keep stretching, every day, a ton.  *sigh*  Why do I loathe stretching so much?  Why is my flexibility so shitty?



Any suggestions on how to make stretching less of the worst possible thing I have to do every day?

Intervals

I was all set last night to write a post about how EASY my speed work was.  I even came up with a title:  "Speed" Work.  I was going to brag about how easy a seven minute mile pace was, at least for 400m.  I was going to bask in the glory of my past times.  It was going to be awesome.

But I don't get to write that post, because intervals suck, and 7min/miles is a hard pace to keep, and while I only almost threw up twice, it still counts.

So, maybe the "course" wasn't ideal.  Lacking a solid track, I used Google Maps to scope out what appeared to be a long stretch of uninterrupted sidewalk less than a mile from my house.

What Google Maps failed to mention (okay, maybe I should have zoomed) is the sidewalk was just a few feet wide, and littered with telephone poles, overhanging plants, and people parked in their driveways just awkwardly enough to send me into the street.

So, I tried to mix it up, since I had my phone programmed to yell at me when it was time to run, and when it was time to slowly jog.  Which might have worked if the sidewalk didn't end abruptly down the street, replaced with a gopher holed stretch of knee high weed wilderness.  So I took my feet into a neighborhood. Because barreling across internal intersections where people prefer rolling stops is a good idea (no close calls, I just should know better).  Regardless, I was stuck in a zone where I had only the flimsiest idea, based on hoping I was going the right pace, and doing math in my head, when the torment would be over.

These are all excuses.  Even in perfect conditions these 400s would have humbled the shit out of me.  I like to pretend I can sit on my ass for months and still be a champ.  In some regards, I do okay.  I can bust out a mediocre long run after a full quarter of sloth and gluttony, but speed?  I don't know what I was thinking.

No, I know what I was thinking.  I'm pretty full of myself to a point.

Anyway, the 400s sucked.

I was aiming to knock each one out in 1:45.  The first few were a bit fast, but slower each time.  I was using the RunKeeper app on my phone, and their "current pace" is on crack.  "7:45!  I mean 6:15!  I mean 11:40! I mean 3:20!"  So, I would glance at the time when the interval started, do the math in my head for what time it should be when the interval ended, and aim for that as best I could.  I was always within 5 seconds, and almost always on the faster side.

Unfortunately, the recording system for the app would start recording the speed for each interval before it announced the interval.  Which means that each interval was 0.1 miles of me recovering and 0.4 miles of me running.  So, while I was hitting my goals, based on the distance+head math, the app's recording of the run was all over the place.  Once I noticed this I double checked watch the distance and time, and feel confident that it was just an app glitch, and not me grossly miscalculating what I was doing.  Still frustrating.  One more reason to drop $150 on a refurbished Garmin 410 to replace my stupidity.

The upside is, my knees didn't hurt at all.  Nothing hurt but my lungs and my pride.  And my knees continued to not hurt through the evening.  Aces.

If My Knees Didn't Hurt I'd Be Kicking Myself

Monday:

My weekly lifting schedule changes on a regular basis.  Thursdays after work are usually consistent, but my trainer has a second job and works odd hours, so I usually don't know what day will be our second training day.  For this week, we nailed it down Sunday, so I sat down to rearrange the rest of my workouts for the week.  In a misguided attempt to I don't even know, I put a 4 mile run on tap for Monday.

So, a few hours in to my work day, when I realized my knees ached just sitting at my stupid desk, I realized that was a terrible idea.  I reshuffled everything, and let my body rest.



My husband and I also hosted a Seder at our house.  We have one every year.  It's highly abbreviated, but we do bust out the plague finger puppets and try to remember why there's an egg involved.  Once we have kids we'll probably take it more seriously, but until then my husband describes it as Jewish Thanksgiving.



The Hail finger puppet is the weirdest, which is why we give it to Sky every year.


Tuesday:

x5 (15 seconds rest between sets)
20 kb swings -- 16kg bell

x3
10 (per arm) cleans (first set was 16kg, dropped to 12kg for remaining sets, since I kept hitting myself in the face with the bell)
5 doubleunders

x3
10 chest presses (two 30lb dbs)
8-10 pull ups (harder band than last time)

I'm pretty sure that my morning workouts with my trainer are 50% foot dragging and story telling.  I was in super grumpy mode.  I need to start throwing away any workout clothes that make me feel overweight.  Because hey, I'm not.  So, if every time I wear a specific pair of pants I feel fat and frumpy, I'm tossing the pants.  Also, I don't know who invented white sports bras, or why I own one (I think someone left it at my house), but that's getting tossed too, because pairing it with a white shit was a terrible, terrible idea.



After work I clocked a steady 3.5 miles with the dog.  My knees got angry in the middle of mile two, so I stretched and foam rolled as much as I could stand.



I still can't find my Garmin.  I tore my house apart after stretching.  I haven't used it since the middle of December.  This means it really could be anyway.  It normally lives in one of two drawers.  The charger and accessories are still in the drawers, but the watch itself is gone.  ARG.  I don't even know where to look.  Do I give up and order another one?  I'm so mad at myself.  How the fuck does a chunky watch like that just disappear?  FUCK.  I keep hoping I'll remember one more place to look and it will magically be there.  Maybe if I open the drawer in the bathroom for the 42nd time?

Weekend Update -- With Sore McKnee

Friday:

My trainer bought a training sled (where you put weight plates on it and drag it around like some sort of Arctic husky reenactment minus the barking but totally with the whimpering).

x5
200m sled pull (25lb weight on it)
100m medicine ball throw
10 burpees
100m medicine ball throw
10 burpees

The sled was hard.  I'm still working on posture, but it will come.  I wonder if running with the sled will help with my regular running?

My trainer had marked a 100m stretch for me to do the exercises.  I was in the middle of throwing the medicine ball back toward him when a woman walked into the middle of what we were doing, put down a blanket, lied down (laid down?), and started reading.  Wut?  I went around her, and continued to do circles around her for each set.  She didn't bat an eyelash.  The park was HUGE, a full city block of grass, almost all of which was open and not in the middle of what we were doing.  It didn't really change my workout, minus having to be paranoid about the medicine ball bouncing wrong and hitting her, but it was still weird.

Afterward, since we had ample space, we threw kettlebells at each other.  First I practiced flipping them on my own, then we flipped them back and forth.  Awesome.  It felt really good, and hard, and was super, super fun.



Saturday:

Football.  Oh, glorious football.  It's been, what, two months since I've played (it's pilot season, and the organizer works in casting AND wants to get cast, so he's been doubly busy).  We had nine people, which means that, as the worst person out there by a long shot, I got to play all time offense.  The best.

The game was great.  The teams were pretty easily matched.  Lots of sprinting and dodging.  I only caught the football with my face instead of my hands twice, so I'm getting better.

At one point the organizer turned to me and asked "Do I have any boogers?", then tilted back his head so I could look up his nose.  So, we're at that level of friendship now.  I don't know what that means, but I think I like it?

Afterward my hips were killing me (I assume, in addition to my hip flexors being tight, all the sudden starts and stops tweak things), so I threw on compression shorts and stretched everything out.



Sunday:

I woke up more sore than I'd been in a while.  For some reason, being sore from lifting is satisfying, but being sore from running just sucks.

But, I needed to clock a 4 mile run, and needed to take the dog with me so my husband could paint the baseboards in peace.  My Garmin is currently MIA (I blame the living room being in shambles, but I probably misplaced it before that), so I mapped out four miles that took us past a pond with geese.



I do my normal three miles by running up and down streets in my neighborhood.  This is nice in that I don't hit any street lights, so I don't have to stop, and I can get a solid 3 without having to cover the same ground twice, but it's boring.

So, a four mile loop down other streets was really appealing.

I'm not sure if it was the new scenery or running earlier in the day or what, but while I was sore, and my knees twinged around mile three, it was a great run.  It wasn't fast, but it felt good.  It reminded me why I like to run.  Wind in the face, out and about, oogling the gardens of other people.  It felt good.

Because of the knee twinge, I opted for a post-run foam rolling instead of stretching (yes, I should do both, I know).  My IT band is tight, and I don't mean tight butthole.  But I can do something about it, and that's good.



Sunday evening I had curling.  It was a bit weird to be putting on thermals and fleece when it was 85F out, but I guess it helps me understand the weather a ton of you are dealing with.  Weirder still was stepping out into the "heat" after spending two hours bundled up on the ice.  While the temperature had dropped, I felt like it was sweltering, and proceeded to strip off everything I could while remaining decent before the drive home.



I love curling.  I'm so glad I stepped outside of my stupid introvert comfort zone and joined up with a team of strangers.  My teammates were cracking me up today.  We have fun.  I look forward to going.  The game flew by last night.  I enjoy sweeping as much as I enjoy throwing the stone.  I was off for a week, so I'm not sure I'm getting better, but I will eventually.  Even if I don't, I'm having enough fun that it really doesn't matter.  Plus, there are some super nice curling butts representing.  Tight spandex pants, all that bending over.  It's pretty spectacular.

==============

Overall it's been an awesome week of exercise.  Football and curling are stellar.  I got a decent number of runs in.  Lifting is going well.  I guess this explains why I'm so sore and so tired.  I need to be careful, but right now it's worth it.

L'appel du vide de l'apogée du canapé

Anyone who's ever stood on the edge of a building and had the fleeting thought to jump, or been driving down the highway and considered how easy it would be to steer in to traffic, has felt  L'appel du vide, the call of the void.

Today I felt L'appel du vide de l'apogée du canapé, the call of void of the couch.

I made it to my trainer's fine.

While foam rolling the crap out of my legs I complained about feeling twinges in my knees and hips.  My trainer had planned some ladder speed leg work, but modified his plans to give my legs an extra day of rest.



x4
10 per arm 25lb shoulder press
10 band assisted pull ups

x4
2 minutes speed jumproping
10 chest to floor push ups

x4
8-10 chest presses (two 30lb dumbbells)
12 tricep pull downs
10 bicep curls (two 15lb dumbbells)

While walking out to my car I asked my trainer, if I'm going to be lazy and only do one or the other, should I foam roll or stretch.

"Practice what you're bad at," he said.

So, stretching.  Noted.

And then I drove home.  I wanted to get a three mile run in.  Well, I wanted to have done a three mile run.  I didn't want to actually do it.  As I pulled into my driveway I was already making excuses.  I could move the run to tomorrow.  Shit, I could even do it Saturday if I really wanted. L'appel du le canapé was strong.  I'm sure there was excellent tv on.  Weird ingredients on Chopped.  Fraiser.  Shit, a solid rerun of Psych would be great.  USA plays that at least 10 hours a day.

But, I knew, it was so early in my "getting my shit together and running" game.  If I started flaking on runs already, I was doomed.  Plus, the dog didn't get a morning walk, so I was going to have to take him out anyway.  And I was already in workout clothes (even though the stupid pants I wore slide down a bit when I run.  I always forget that.  I need to embroider that in to the waist I guess).

So I leashed up the dog and ran three miles.  It was fine.  The call of the couch was just laziness.  Once I was moving, I was moving.  It wasn't a workout to write home about (but that doesn't seem to stop people on social media #hashtag #givemeattention #praisemeforeverything #itsnotreallyrproofbecauseanypicturecanbestaged).  But, I got it done.

Home again.  Showered.  Stretching?  Ug.  Stretching.  And so I stretched.  I focused on what hurt.  I tried to hold things long enough.  I tried to not get bored or antsy.  It wasn't great stretching.  But, it's a start.

So, a workout, a run, a stretch.  Not shabby.  Another day.

Hill Work. Ish.

I have a super hilly 10k coming up in June.  I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and realized I should probably start to do some hill work in preparation.  Sky was game for joining me, so I picked a hill in the middle of the local community college, and we headed over.



The hill I had in mind involved us running on the sidewalk.  We did one round of that before Sky complained enough for us to branch off into the actual HILLS to see what we could find.

We wandered around until we found a hill loop that was probably 150 yards.   The view from the top was excellent.  It's neat to have a good sized agricultural school in the middle of a city.



My goal was to sprint up and slowly jog back down.

HAHAHAHA.

The sprint up, I could handle.  It was just short enough that "it's just a little bit further don't be a wimp!" worked, but long enough that I felt like I wanted to vomit or die (just a little bit!) at the top.



But, feeling like that at the top wasn't super conducive to jogging back down.  So, I walked back down.  I should have scaled back on the uphill--a sprint wasn't needed--so I could have jogged back down and kept my heartrate up.  I think I wanted to prove to myself that I could go HARD.  In the midst of it I felt a little guilty that I wasn't going hard enough.  I need to get over that.  Hill work is to get comfortable maintaining a pace up hills.  I need to save the sprinting for track work.

Anyway, I was faster on the uphill than the downhill, which is funny.



This hill was shorter than the main hill in my race, but I'm starting somewhere.

In the end, I sat in my car, a little light headed, a lot exhausted.  I hadn't felt like this in a while, since I haven't really been pushing myself.  It felt good.



I got home and foamed rolled the shit out of my legs.  I always forget how much the foam rolling hurts.  An added bonus of our new wood floors is it's not very comfortable to hold myself on the roller anymore either. First world problems.



Afterward I half assed some stretches.  While I recognize how important stretching is going to be for my physical progress both in running and weight lifting, I have so much trouble just stretching.  I get bored.  I want to do other things.  It's annoying.  There are too many stretches I should be doing.  Even with the tv on I got antsy to quit.

Which is bad, I know.  My knees and hips twinge a little, a sign of things to come.  Foam rolling will help, but foam rolling alone probably won't.

On a side note, at the end of the run Sky and I stumble across an abandoned greenhouse that was pretty cool.  It was just sitting there on the side of the road without any fencing or warning signs.  A odd thing to see in the middle of the city.  I poked my head inside and startled a pigeon, who, in turned, scared the SHIT out of me.  There's something inherently creepy about places left to rot for years, even if they're 300 yards from well kept lawns and heavily trafficked buildings.

IDK my BFF Jill?

I ran three miles with the dog and foamed rolled for 20 minutes.  Here are some pictures of me looking like an idiot.









Thanks to my idiocy, I left my sunglasses on the counter in my bathroom, and had to use my backup sunglasses on the drive to work. My life is terribly difficult.

100 Mile Club's 24 Hour Run4Kids Relay Recap

Sunday night I was watching TV with my husband.  During a commercial my phone alerted me that someone had commented on a picture of mine on FB.  I read the comment and chuckled.  "What?" my husband asked.  I paused.

The comment was "I want to go to Ohio in the near future..."  A classic example of an inside joke.  It's not funny unless you were sitting around the propane heater with us at midnight on Saturday.  Even then it probably shouldn't be funny.

Anyway, how do I recap something that was so awesome, but so wrapped up in silliness and inside jokes?

I don't.  I mean, not really.  Not the way I'd like to.  Not the way I'd be able to if I were a skilled writer or story teller.  Instead, I'll just explain a little.

The 100 Mile Club is a charity that gets kids (and their parents) to pledge to run/walk 100 miles over the course of a school year.  They put on multiple fundraising events throughout the year, and the Run4Kids ultramarthon is one I've done for the last three years.

I was part of a relay team this year.  This meant that I got the fun of the event without having to train or put out too much effort.  I ran 16 miles over 8 hours.  Now, I wasn't actively running the whole time, but even when I was actively running, I wasn't actively running.  I did a lot of walking, both with the kids (Sophia!) and with the EMTs.  But, 16 miles, regardless, was more than I was prepared for.  I like to brag, at least to myself, and sometimes here, that I can do nothing for months, then go knock out some rock star running without much effort of pain.  So, this was kind of humbling, because right off the bat, this was more exhausting than it had any right to be.  I assume this is a combination of getting older and REALLY REALLY slacking on my cardio.  Apparently 6-8 dog miles a week isn't cutting it in terms of keeping my legs alive.  Well, fuck.

Anyway.

I tried (sort of) to put together a team, but most people were busy with the stupid LA Marathon.  So I contacted the race director, asking if there was a team I could join.  She ended up helping me cobble together a team of misfits, including herself, another race director, a chief of police, my friend Heather, and some others.  We were definitely a motley crew, and were appropriately named Team Rag Tag.



When I first did the event two years ago I ended up running a bunch of laps with a charming six year old named Sophia.  Last year she was home sick the day of the event, but this year she was out in full force.  We spent hours jogging/walking around the track, looking for bugs, petting the police dog, and talking to other kids.





This painting made many appearances, mostly after dark, once all the kids were gone.



I did not make good choices when it came to when to put on sun screen.  Ug.





The same EMT, Rob, has headed up the EMT efforts for the last three years, along with his son.  I spent most of my non-running time taking up one of the chairs in their tent harassing them/keeping them company. (they enjoyed the harassing; I wasn't just taking up space).  We as the night wore on they set up a propane stove and told bad jokes, ghost stories, and really gross true EMT stories.

The entire 24+ hours was awesome.  I met new awesome people.  I saw a bunch of awesome people from the previous two years.  I hung out with a ton of kids who love running and bugs and soccer and picking up trash and all sorts of awesome kid stuff.  I came away from the weekend humbled about my own athletic ability, but full of love and joy and all the random crap you get from being part of something genuinely good and awesome.

This recap is neither cohesive nor comprehensive, but neither was my weekend, so it's pretty fitting.

My eyes were bigger than my stomach, so I ate my eyes.

First and foremost, let's discuss this:



I am not proud of my reaction to this news.  I used up my weekly allotment of cursewords in one sitting.  I felt angry and sick to my stomach.  To be honest, it's the most emotion I'd felt in weeks.

I am hugely and fiercely resistant to change.  I'm still angry that gReader changed their look.  Last year.  And I miss the old gmail layout, too.  Not big on change.

But, there's plenty of time for the other options to sort themselves out.  I'm testing options.  I'm trying to remain calm.

Okay, on to normal shit.

Saturday I ran three miles with the dog, then danced around my filthy back yard like an idiot.



Saturday night I got slightly dressed up for a friend's blacklight mini golf birthday party.







In between mini golf and the bar I found a $1 book store and went a little nuts.  I ended up buying 31 books.



Sunday was curling.  I learned that if someone accidentally drops their broom, everyone on the ice drops their broom in solidarity.  A guy on the team we were playing said "I never would have guessed this is your second game ever."  Awesome!  (we still lost, but whatevs)





Monday I had movie night, and subjected my friends to The King of Hearts and Catch-22, both of which I love.  The King of Hearts did not go over as well with my friends.  *sigh*  I can't tell if I have shitty taste in weird movies or shitty taste in friends...

Workouts!



Wednesday:

Ummmmmm, well, fuck.  I know we did rope work and arm stuff and I complained a lot because it was early and I didn't feel good, but that's all my brain retained.

Thursday:

x2
5 DL @ 115

x1
5 DL @ 135

1 DL @ 165

1 DL @ 185 (!!!!!!!! my form was shit, so this doesn't count for much, but, you guys, you guys YOU GUYS, I haven't lifted heavy in what, 8 months?  Since we fled the garage gym with the bumper plates?  My trainer finally got his own plates, so yesterday we were dropping weights in the parking lot, and as far as I remember 185 was my PR 8 months ago -- with good form then, but still.  STILL.  DUDE.)

x5
15 DL @ 95
0.5 mile jog

and then I died.

=============

Tomorrow morning I'm driving inland to do the 24 hour ultra relay with Heather and a bunch of strangers.  I'm nervous and excited, even though I'm only slated to run for a total of four hours, I think.

============

Tharrr Be Pictures At The End of This Post

Wednesday:

I had taken Monday off for Movie Night, and I was still a little sore of Tuesday, but mostly I did nothing on Tuesday due to laziness.  So, Wednesday I knew I needed to do something after work or I'd fall back into my "do nothing all the time yay party on the couch!" cycle.

So, when I got home from work I grabbed the dog and headed out for three miles.

Except, I don't know what the dog's problem was (or, really, MY problem), but I wanted to punch him in the face.  He was stopping every 20 feet or so, sniffing, standing around, doing dip shit dog stuff, just far far far more frequently than usual.  And it was making me angry.  Which, hey, let's be honest, that's stupid.  I was getting mad at the dog for being a dog.  Right?  So I cut the run short after a mile and stormed home.  I threw the dog in the house (not literally you guys that's fucked up!), and took my anger out on the weedgrass encroaching on my succulent garden.

I got wonderfully lost in the weeding until I realized the sun was totally gone and the street lights were lighting my front lawn.  I felt loads better.  I still got the heart pumping for the day, which is good cardiovascularly or whatever.

Thursday Morning:

120 kb swings (16kg):  20, 20 w/ 10 each hand, repeat three times
--one handed kb swings at this weight are rough, man.  I should look in to what muscles they work.  Like, does it just work the arm more, or is it the full body equivalent of doing a two handed swing at a heavier weight?

Using the same 16kg kb:

1 per arm clean
10 air squats
60 seconds jump rope
2 per arm clean
20 air squats
60 seconds jump rope
3 per arm clean
30 air squats
60 seconds jump rope
4 per arm clean
---and then, 5 squats in, "how much should I feel this in my knees?"  "Not at all."  "So, if I am feeling it in my knees, what should I be doing different?"  And we stopped.

As best we can tell, my muscles are hella tight (yo) from last week's curling (still?  that makes me feel like an out of shape lazy fuck).  My trainer says when you do totally new movements you can be stiff longer, and instructed me to spend a lot of time stretching my quads, IT band, and hip flexors.  Blech.

Things get fuzzy here, because Friday we also did arms, and my memory is such that it's hard to tease out, at this point, what happened Thursday morning versus Friday morning (yes, yes, I know, that's fucked up, what kind of idiot has a memory like that, right?  This is my life.).  So I'll just clump all the arm shit together under the Friday heading.

When I got home from work Thursday night I pulled my laptop out into the newly floored but still empty living room, put the first episode of this season of Psych on, and foam rolled and stretched.  My muscles were as tight as an 80s hair band concert.  It felt good.  Not good enough that I'm moving to India and dedicating my life to stretching, but still good.

Friday:

x3
12 chest presses (two 30lb dbs)
15 tricep pull downs

x3
60 second rope slams
15 assisted pull ups
15 shoulder presses (two 15lb dbs which felt impossibly heavy)

x3
60 second rope snake things
10 assisted chip ups (which are harder than pull ups on the gym bar because it's not level, it's at weird angles and too far apart)
15 lateral raises (two 10 lb db -- originally out to the side, but my right shoulder popped every time, so then it was straight out in front)

x3
45 second planks (was too much of a pussy to do 60 second planks I guess)

After work I decided to put the house back together instead of working out.  I put furniture pads on the bottom of everything, and hauled couches and shelves and crap out of the kitchen and bedroom.  For the first time in two weeks I could open both the dishwasher and the over.  It was fucking glorious.

We still have to figure out if we want to keep the current living room configuration before we put the billion pounds of books back on the shelves, but it's still nice to have a normal house again.

I did not prepare well for essentially losing access to the kitchen.  I would get home and be starving.  I would climb over the couches in the kitchen, growling at the empty fridge, lamenting the inability to access the cupboards with cans of food, and inevitably give up and order something.  Occasionally I was smart enough to buy something on the way home, but I even managed to fuck that up, by accidentally ordered 12 tacos at a taco truck on night (and then eating them all in one sitting, how the fuck is that possible?).

Anyway, pictures.

Came home one night to a possum chilling on the front porch.  It retreated to my garden tool hutch.



Our board game closet got relocated to behind our bedroom door.  This is by no means organized, but it's every game we own.



Thursday marked 8 years since our first date, so my husband and I went out to the diner where we talked for hours 8 years ago, and stayed once again until they closed down.  I made him a card for the occasion.



My 35lb KB arrived.



Eating cheeseless pizza in bed.



My favorite living artist started tinkering with water color, so I bought another original.  This guy is amazing, will do custom work, grossly underprices his stuff, and is pretty funny.



My dog.



Finally, the new floors.