I’m training, but not with any specific goal – and that’s probably an ass-backward way to go about it. People keep asking if I’m training for a full, and I keep saying I’m not committed yet. And that’s the truth: I’m still loose on the streets and the men with white jackets and nets haven’t yet scooped me up.
So I’m still training until they do.
Right now I’m concentrating on endurance, and I’m pleased to report it’s going extremely well. Last weekend I ran two hours, completing my three mile course in record time! It’s given me the confidence to add another half-mile this week, bringing my week’s total to…three-and-a-half miles.
But that’s not all. I’ve incorporated strength training into my weekly workouts. My friend Kaitlyn sent me this killer glute-buster. http://bit.ly/QSs4Uf
It’s nasty and every time I break into a sweat. So far I’ve watched it three times. I’m getting ready to try it pretty soon.
In the same vein, after reading about all the benefits of going gluten-free, I eliminated all grains and so on from my diet. To date, I haven’t noticed any appreciable change in my glutes though.
Maybe I’m still eating the wrong stuff.
I’m trying very hard to eat properly. I even went so far as to buy a container of coconut water. This is one of the new super-foods, like quinoa, blueberries, and small batch bourbon.
As with the glute-buster video, I’ve looked at that container of coconut water…a lot. In fact, I’ve stared at it really hard. Really hard. For long periods of time.
Well, okay, for brief seconds, until I grab my specially formulated recovery beer.
I’m training like Hunter S. Thompson.
Don’t laugh. For all his purported drug-addled, alcohol-induced. keyboard blatherings, Thompson worked hard and kept in shape. How else could he have jammed out all those late night essays, investigative reports and more?
I just may patent the Hunter S. Thompson training plan. Day one: Wake up. Squint at bright light, roll over, place pillow firmly over head and stay in position for approximately five hours. Followed by whiskey intervals, random shotgun firings and eggs over-easy.
I sense a best-seller.
Now I know many of you think I’m frivolous and that I don’t take this running culture, workout stuff seriously. That’s just not true.
Who kicked ass this week on Google Olympics?
Gold in hurdles. Gold in basketball. Bronze in the kayak slalom.
I’m better than Canada! How great is that?
Google soccer didn’t work out so well for me. Because I’m Canadian, the Norwegian ref declared all my kicks invalid.
I’m still waiting for Google marathon: you sit at your computer wiggling the up/down, forward/backward arrows for three hours.
And after the event, there’s not even a massage tent for your fingers.
Seriously, here it is August and I’m still on the fence about what I’m going to do. I’ve been dabbling – and that is the operative word – in trail running on my easy days and keep thinking about that. But at the back of my mind is the fact that this fall will mark two years since I ran a marathon – and I’m not getting any younger.
Perhaps it’s a couple of hard half-marathons, some longer trail runs (as an experiment) and then beginning to focus on Boston in the spring.
Ultimately, it doesn’t matter. It’s all running of one type or another and whether it’s flying over the road or negotiating the mossy rock gardens of the woods, the singular experience of every run is what remains.