Raindrops Keep Falling
Wasn't able to run yesterday morning. Well, I could have, but I'm not crazy about starting out in a downpour. I've been known to keep on going if one starts after I'm already out there chugging along, but having my first running step be into a cold shower just isn't acceptable.
So last night after work Z and I went to the gym (whine alert!). I ran on the treadmill a bit, only enough to confirm what I already know, which is that I HATE it. Treadmill running puts me at the mercy of the machine. I'm afraid of it! Afraid I'll die of boredom, afraid I'll fall and shoot off the back and down the stairs and land broken into a million pieces, afraid I'll never be able to go longer than a mile (went 1.10). Also, my right hip becomes painful almost immediately when I'm on the treadmill, regardless of the incline or speed I set.
After my mini-run I lifted weights and went on the machines for a wimpy 15 minutes. Friday night workouts, ugh! Then Z and I went to Chrisotpher's, our favorite resraurant in the universe. We each have a dish we adore there, and are so old and boring that we never order anything else. A great time was had, as usual. Almost makes working out worth it.
Me: spinach and mushroom enchiladas, no cheese on top, rice, black beans and guacamole on the side.
Z: grilled chicken chimichanga, tall glass of jamaica (hibiscus) drink -- and I get his guacamole.
I knew you were dying to know.
Today it's raining off and on, and I'm trying not to think about tomorrow and my scheduled 14-miler. I know I can do it -- have done it -- but get nervous thinking about it. If ever I think mind and body are separate entities, I only need to look to running to be set straight. Body can't move without mind's intimate participation; mind feels no pleasure, no pain, no knowledge of how it's going without body's sensory input.
So last night after work Z and I went to the gym (whine alert!). I ran on the treadmill a bit, only enough to confirm what I already know, which is that I HATE it. Treadmill running puts me at the mercy of the machine. I'm afraid of it! Afraid I'll die of boredom, afraid I'll fall and shoot off the back and down the stairs and land broken into a million pieces, afraid I'll never be able to go longer than a mile (went 1.10). Also, my right hip becomes painful almost immediately when I'm on the treadmill, regardless of the incline or speed I set.
After my mini-run I lifted weights and went on the machines for a wimpy 15 minutes. Friday night workouts, ugh! Then Z and I went to Chrisotpher's, our favorite resraurant in the universe. We each have a dish we adore there, and are so old and boring that we never order anything else. A great time was had, as usual. Almost makes working out worth it.
Me: spinach and mushroom enchiladas, no cheese on top, rice, black beans and guacamole on the side.
Z: grilled chicken chimichanga, tall glass of jamaica (hibiscus) drink -- and I get his guacamole.
I knew you were dying to know.
Today it's raining off and on, and I'm trying not to think about tomorrow and my scheduled 14-miler. I know I can do it -- have done it -- but get nervous thinking about it. If ever I think mind and body are separate entities, I only need to look to running to be set straight. Body can't move without mind's intimate participation; mind feels no pleasure, no pain, no knowledge of how it's going without body's sensory input.
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