AAQ: Elliptical

I have this badass ironwoman-type friend who bikes like 40 miles at high noon in 90-degree weather and then tosses off a casual 10-miler at 7-minute pace. She actually asked me, and I quote:

What the HELL are you doing on the elliptical? For shame.

Well. Indeed. It is embarrassing to be seen on that thing, let alone admit to it for the entire internet to read. I’m babying my sore right hip, which has been bugging me since the late months of pregnancy and currently demands coddling in the form of deathly boring non-impact activity followed by lots of foam rolling. I’ll elliptical for the first half of the workout, then switch to the treadmill.

Real running is happening too. I ran for 45 minutes in the woods yesterday – a route I hadn’t run since sometime in 2010. It was hot, dusty, and hilly. A lot hillier than I remember it being back when 45 minutes was not a capitalized once-weekly Long Run. But let’s not indulge any negative self-chatter, because it was great to be back.

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Harriet’s Workouts: Shostakovich on the elliptical + symphonic progression runs

This workout is killing me.

Yes. The Classical Music Workout is the next Zumba.

Sure, Britney, Rihanna, and Lady G. have their place in the gym (don’t look at me like that! Just day-ance!), but lately, chained to the elliptical trainer and other forms of stationary aerobic exertion, I’ve realized that rock and pop songs are too short for me to forget the dreaded red numbers on the elapsed time display and get into a rhythm. The mental monologue is more like “oh, is this song almost over? So three minutes must be just about up, which means there are what, 21 minutes to go…oh man, 21 minutes…I might die…I may be dead already…auf wiedersehen, world…woe, my early death by elliptical is tragic…alas…”

The solution? Obviously no music is not an option, and German TV? Uh, no. The solution is symphonies. Beethoven 7. Tchaik 5. SIBELIUS, you guys. At first it sounds like a snorefest, but if you try it, it suddenly makes so much sense! It’s not just three or four random pieces of music under the same title; there’s a relentless progression from movement to movement until you reach the finale (but depending on the symphony, it might be best to skip the slow movement, unless you need a nap or an extended walk/crawl break). I did a progression run to Sibelius 2 on the treadmill the other day. From the opening bars, this symphony is gorgeous and will suck you in (again, 2nd movement not recommended.) You’ll be gliding along at Olympic pace in no time – and be sad when it’s over. Hyperbole? I dunno. Watch this, and wait til 1:15+ for the auditory money shot:

Aaah, Jean. You did have a way with climaxes, you sly old Finnish fox you.

Anyway.

Today I was on the elliptical and for some reason – I mean I seriously cannot explain this at all – my brain was like SHOSTAKOVICH 10th SYMPHONY OR WE BOYCOTT THIS WORKOUT. Ok…I have played this piece, so mainly I just listened for the viola part, but it has some other things to recommended it. Like the murky coolness of the first movement, the general dementedness of it all, and the fact that the symphony is a musical portrait of Stalin, so all of your problems will suddenly seem like little luxuries in comparison, which you are positively delighted to have in your life. At the very latest when you get to the part where the snare drum imitates a firing squad.

(Ok, I couldn’t find the firing squad part on youtube, but Sir Simon gives you the gist here…)

Will it make you faster? Hey, at this point, any workout goes some way to making me faster. Why argue with what works? And really, try the Sibelius. You won’t regret it.

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Some tropes, a few statistics, and the non-setting of goalage

So they tell me that a “running blogger” generally must engage in specific activities in order to be viewed as such. These, apparently, include running and blogging. WHO KNEW.

My thesis, however, is that running-blogging is mainly a pictorial-discursive construction consisting of certain key tropes.

For instance, the Postrun Garmin Photo. Look, here is a photo that sums up the current state of my training:

If I hadn't posted this you wouldn't have believed me, right?

And: you can run until your legs fall off and blog until your keyboard is sticky with the blood from your overworked fingers but if you haven’t got a photo of your legs in at least every second post, I’m looking at you with my finger and thumb in the shape of an L on my forehead.

I'm a real runner now that I have posted this photo of my legs taken from above.

So. Yeah. Clearly I am a real blogger, even though running-based blog topics have been thin on the ground lately. (I do occasionally deal with my Google Reader-induced jealousy by composing bitchy posts in my head about the Boston Marathon, the Nuun Hood To Coast Blog Team, etc.)

Here, in numbers, is a snapshot of some shit that went down in the last 10 weeks:

2 – number of times I suffered from gastrointestinal flu and/or food poisoning

5 – number of days between said bouts of unpleasantness

1 – death colds had immediately following

10 – days spent battling death cold

57 – approximate number of minor sniffle-type colds endured

8 billion – repetitions of German lullaby between the hours of 3 and 5 a.m. while baby does sit-ups and throws his teddy bear around

0 – Herr Mini-G’s interest in normal person sleeping patterns.

Today, however, is May Day, so after a refreshing afternoon of setting cars on fire and throwing molotov cocktails at the polizei, I am declaring a fresh start. Because, really, can you ever have too many of those?

Didn’t think so.

Here is the number of goals I am announcing: 0

Here is the number of goals I have: 0

Unless you count “just running and not getting sick” as a goal, in which case, 1.

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6:01 pace!!!

6:01 per kilometer, that is. Also known as 9:42 per mile. That’s how fast I ran 7.65 kilometers today. “Ran” as in the past tense of “to run”. Ran as in, Actual Running. No walk breaks.

Normally this would not be a reason to throw an I’m Awesome party.  I’m not throwing one now, either, but I’m unreasonably excited about suddenly running something close to my former average pace. Remember how I started in January alternating 1 minute run/walk intervals? Those “run” intervals were at something like 8 minute per kilometer pace (13min/mile.) And now, 7 weeks later? I’m, like, sort of actually running again! For 46 minutes at a time, even! Today’s land speed record comes on the heels of a stupidly glorious-feeling 5km run on Saturday which I did at 5:48 (9:26/mile) pace in the mud around a lake with the NBC Olympics jingle running through my head.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go work on my personal version of The Bolt.

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Swissalpine 2012: It’s SO ON.

Image

22.9 kilometers of net uphill at 1600m+ altitude on 28 July in Davos, Switzerland. I AM SO THERE.

I ran this once before, in 2008. Here I am at the finish, 110% certain that I am about to really, seriously, die like right now:

In a nutshell: YAY!

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Progress report: One capillary at a time…

Read any running book, and the first thing they tell you is that building an aerobic base is your first step towards becoming (or re-becoming) an awesomely fit running machine.  By running slowly and consistently, you build up capillaries and mitochondria in your muscles, which means better blood flow, oxygen delivery, and energy production, or some shit like that.

Look, I’m typing this while simultaneously singing a lullaby in German to a nap-resistant baby, so don’t quote me, but I’m fairly sure that’s basically accurate.

So, five weeks into Project Awesome Fitness, “capillaries and mitochondria” has pretty much become my daily mantra. One capillary at a time, I tell myself, while plodding on frozen legs across a lumpy tundra of snow, ice and frozen dogshit. And: those fucking capillaries better be goddamn multiplying in there. And possibly also: ok, mitochondria, get your shit together, let’s generate some adenosine triphosphate already. (ooh, SCIENCEY! Thank you, high school freshman year biology circa 1990.)

Well, I don’t know if swearing is the best way to motivate capillaries, but I can say that I achieved my goal of running for 30 minutes by the end of January. Some days I didn’t think I was ever going to manage it, like, EVER AGAIN, but now, at 11-something-per-mile pace, I can in fact plod along for 40 minutes without stopping. I started with 1 minute on, 1 off; moved on to 2 min on/1 off, then 3, then 5, and eventually I got so bored with the walk breaks that I was like “fuck it” and just ran for 20 minutes straight. Nothing broke, so the next week I moved on up to 30 minutes, and finally, on January 31st, I accidentally ran for 40 minutes in a Schlosspark in the middle of nowhere, near the Polish border:

Oh, just our little place in the country.

Some of those runs were pretty painful, mentally and physically. Some of my running friends only started running as adults – often after years of being overweight and inactive – and for the first time I could almost understand what they must have gone through at the beginning of their running lives. Sometimes it felt so discouraging, with unprecedented levels of negative self-talk. Sitting on the sofa is just so much easier. The only reason I didn’t is because I know how much better I feel when I’m in shape. If you don’t know that and have to take it on faith and overcome a lifetime of different habits (and self-image, and external messages…) – well, you have to be pretty strong, at times, to continue.

Another first-time recognition: strength training, especially the core, is so important. OK, duh, right? Everyone knows that, but this is the first time I’ve actually, physically FELT the difference between totally weak and unstable, and slightly-stronger-and-more-stable. Unfortunately my abs are still at odds with one another, but signs of a tentative reconciliation are there; the diastasis (gap between the abdominal muscles) was over 2cm right after the birth, but is now about 1 cm.

With the running and the strength training, I’ve lost a little weight (though am still 3-4 lbs away from my pre-baby weight) and can now technically wear my skinny jeans again, with only moderate muffin top. More importantly, I feel so much better emotionally. Or another way of saying it might be that on the days when I don’t or can’t work out, my anxiety levels are significantly higher.

Next time: Why weighing the same as you did pre-baby does not even remotely mean you have the same body as you did pre-baby, so you might as well just forget that shit ever even existed. Featuring hair loss, cellulite, and bellybutton wrinkles. Stay tuned.

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WHERE’S THE CHEEKS?

By now you guys are probably all “uh, don’t you have,  like, a baby or something? Cause that might be, you know, a little more interesting than what you ate for lunch?” Yes! Yes I do indeed have a baby! And I could prove it by posting the cutest photos ever of the most kissable cheeks you’ve ever seen, or even one of a laughing naked baby in a bathtub, but…and here is further proof, not that it was ever necessary, that I am worth less than nothing as a blogger…I’m not going to.

Oh don’t get me wrong. I loves me some baby photos. I pretty much live for the latest blog posts from other new running moms so I can squeeee and omggggggg over the newest baby photos. Unfortunately, I am a total hypocrite in this regard: I just can’t bring myself to post Captain Cute’s image on the internets without his consent. I feel like it’s not fair to violate his privacy like that. And since it’s going to be a while until he can actually give his consent, I guess that means no baby photos here :(

…which makes me a little sad, because I would love to show him off. And maybe I’m a double hypocrite because I’ve posted photos of him on Facebook, that famous champion and defender of its users privacy rights, but Facebook is a bit more protected than Teh Internets, you know? With this cozy little circle of readers/commenters here, it’s easy to forget that this here is the big bad internet and that access to this blog and its photos is unfiltered and unrestricted. But it is. And whenever I’m tempted to come on over here with the latest übercute photo of little Capt. C doing his latest trick (rolling over and squealing in delight, anyone?) all it takes is the thought that some psycho could save the photo to their hard drive make me a) want to vomit, and b) stop wanting to post any photos of my son anywhere ever.

Yeah, that sounds a little melodramatic and doesn’t make much logical sense, but that’s my brain for you. Please know that I am absolutely not judging in any way people who think differently – as I said, I love that shit! – and fully recognize my own hypocrisy. Maybe it’s just a sign of my advanced age, in addition to my pathological Twitter aversion and inability to even think about looking at Pinterest.

HAVING SAID THAT (if anyone is still reading…) let me also say that this is seriously one cute baby. He’s 16 weeks old today! He loves lying on his blanket on the floor and kicking his legs around, rolling around, and grabbing the toys on his baby gym. He’s the smiliest thing you’ve ever seen first thing in the morning and I love the moment when he wakes up and looks around for us, and smiles from ear to ear when he sees us. Aaaaaaand he just woke up from his nap, so to summarize: if you want to see some baby cheeks, friend me on Facebook. And I’ll write something about running soon. Watch this space for omgseriouslyfascinating updates on my 11-minute miles and whether I fit into my old jeans.

Posted in Life, Photos | 3 Comments

Harriet’s Lists: What not to eat for optimal performance (Bratwurst vs. Treadmill edition)

Smug kitty can't believe you just did that

I saw what you ate.

Welcome to the List of the Day. Without further ado, I give you:

1. Bratwurst

2. Mashed potatoes

3. Sauerkraut

4. Lemon cake

5. Cappuccino

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NAQ’s: My first week of postpartum running

Thanks to the miracle of Medela and Capt. C’s agreeing to drink from a bottle (finally), I worked out six times last week! Including 2 trips to the gym, where I side-eyed guys in knee-high tube socks with red stripes at the top and watched obscure winter sports while on the treadmill, just like old times. Speed skating ftw!

So many of the six people who read my blog haven’t sent any emails asking urgent questions about the state of my fitness that I felt compelled to present a special NAQ feature about my first week of postpartum running. Er, “running.”

So, how’s it going?

Good? I guess? My crotch hasn’t fallen off yet and my hips are still intact, so that seems like a win.

Did you really just use the word crotch on your blog? How crass!

Yes. But I’m drinking coffee with my pinky out to make up for it. Anyway, the first thing I thought 8 days ago, on about my third step of “running”, was “agh my crotch is literally falling off.” No idea whether that was muscle pain or bone pain or what. It’s been through a lot, after all, so we can’t expect it to suddenly be ok with high-impact exercise. A little grumbling from that region is understandable. Fortunately that was just the first 2 days.

So apart from general flabbiness and totally sucking, notice any difference between running now and running pre-pregnancy?

Yeah. My hips, never the most stable body part at the best of times, are not in good shape. Various hip components were sore at various times last week: the hip flexors, the IT band, and whatever muscle it is that you can feel right behind your hipbone. I feel like my pelvis is doing a figure-8 with every stride. Weak and unstable. I’m working on it at the gym. Also, I have to stop clenching my fists while I jog. That is not a habit we want to keep.

How was the gym?

Fantastic! Like I never left!  Actually I was a little nervous before the first trip, wondering if everyone was going to be snickering at my flab, but we all know that everyone is only concerned with their own looks so that was fine. The orange tube-sock men are still there, as is 1-mph-elliptical girl with her magazine – probably the same one she was reading in September – and the guy in the WAY TMI RUNNING SHORTS (seriously, dude. Wear underpants.) I can only lift like half as much as I could four months ago, which is a weird feeling. It’s weird that I could do a couple of pullups when I weighed 28lbs more and I can’t even do one now. It is nice not to flinch, or at least not *too* hard, every time I see myself in the mirror.

Are you really going to be running for two hours straight by the end of March?

Erm. Heh. Yeah, that might have been a little optimistic? We’ll see.

Was that Capt. Cute I just heard proclaiming that napping is for weaklings?

Yeah, he doesn’t really believe in naps…I’ll be off, then…

Ok bye!

 

 

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Global demographic trends as reflected by my WordPress year-end statistics

Well, this was an eye-opener. Or, uh, not. As it turns out, at any given time:

- 87% of the English-speaking world is googling for photos of Jenn Shelton in various states of undress.

- the other 13% is googling “nude [insert any female pro runner here]“

- at least one person, statistically speaking, is typing “www.runharrietrun.com” into google instead of into the navigation bar of their browser

Meanwhile, in the German speaking world, some sad person is sitting in the lonely fluorescent glow of their monitor at 3 a.m., desperately googling for sexy Plattfuß.

Oh, and a free bonus blogging tip: if you ever want to spontaneously triple your daily page views, just use the word naked.

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