Tuesday Wrap Up: In Which I Use My Arms

You know what's not easy for a marathoner and self-confessed hater of cross training?  Anything that requires the use of one's arms.  Honestly, sometimes I have to take a break when I'm blow drying because I don't have the strength to hold my arms PLUS the weight of the hair dryer in the air for very long.  I need one of those salon dryers for my apartment:

I'm so weak, I can't even hold that Bud Light up to my face

I get that "strength training" and "cross training" are things I should be aware of, and maybe even pursue, but thus far, I'm limited to one SoulCycle class, once per week, which entails 43 minutes of spinning and 2 minutes of lifting 3 pound weights, purely targeting vanity muscles.  I'm okay with that.  Or at least I was, until Sunday.

Sunday, TG and I decided to go canoeing.  Let the record show I have indeed been canoeing before.  In fact, I've paddled and rowed all kinds of watercraft: one-and two-man kayaks, stand-up paddle boards, a rowing machine at the gym, once, in 2005.  But each of those forays into using my arms to propel me forward has been limited by time or distance or the fact that it is hard to both paddle a kayak and drink a beer simultaneously.  That didn't stop me, however, from agreeing - nay, suggesting - that we go for a paddle to celebrate the unofficial start of summer this weekend.  

Here is how that played out:

First the canoe had to get on the roof of the car. I "supervised"

Two hands on my phone, zero hands on my paddle

I used the time to catch up on my reading

Here I am actually paddling!

After about 2.5 hours (!) of paddling somewhat leisurely (well, one of us was paddling somewhat leisurely.  I imagine the other was paddling somewhat rapidly, since we made quite a bit of forward progress), I suggested that maybe we ought to considering turning around, since we had to paddle all the way back from whence we came, and I was already starting to feel a little sore in my arms, back, sides, and neck.  About 15 minutes after that, I was screaming and crying, my arms flopping uselessly at my sides while I talked through which part of TG we would have to eat first.  Luckily, we made it back to the car, close to 5 hours after we started, and by some miracle, we didn't even break up.

In all seriousness, we had a super fun time, despite the fact that we were in a swamp.  

We really fit right in

And really, my hair looked terrible for the next 2 days before my arms are too sore to get a thorough wash, let alone blow dry.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 28.  I got a 10 miler in on Saturday morning, which would have been a terrific start to the holiday weekend, except that I got a migraine about 8 miles in, which sucked.  My migraines are actually migraine auras, which for me means I can't see, and sometimes lose feeling in my extremities.  It makes for really safe running...

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: 8.  

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: Stella, Moose Drool Brown Ale (thanks, Abbe and Baker!), Brunette Nut Brown Ale from Nebraska Brewing Company, Smuttynose Summer Weizen, Bud Light, Yuengling, and Whale's Tale Pale Ale.

Memorial Day Weekend Hot Dog Count: 3.  

Memorial Day Weekend Ice Cream Count: 2.  I had no difficulty getting the Good Humor Chocolate Eclair bar up to my face hole yesterday, despite the post-paddle soreness.  Funny how that works.

If the past weekend is any indication, we have a great summer ahead, folks. 

Question: Do you get migraines?  With auras?  Do you get scared you're having a stroke every time?  Do you have any drugs that work?  

Tuesday Wrap Up: In Which I Rant, Again, About Headphones

Last night was a perfect evening for outdoor activity.  I was not the only person who felt that way, and as a result, Central Park was teeming with runners, walkers, bikers, skateboarders, roller bladers (yes, really), pedicabs, horses, and even some cars.  On any given day, approximately 3% of these people and things are cognizant of their surroundings and in control of the themselves and the things they are riding, which makes the fact that I saw a biker take down a runner not surprising, though no less scary.  Here is what happened:

A little girl, maybe 10, was riding a bike north on Park Drive.  The bike wasn't adjusted properly for her: the seat was so high that she couldn't stand astride the bike with both feet on the ground.  I first noticed her, and this, when I passed her while she was struggling to get started riding: because her feet weren't touching the ground, she couldn't push off to move forward, which resulted in a wobbly, out-of-control take off.  I gave her a wide berth and kept running north, passing her and approaching the 72nd Street Transverse.  

Meanwhile, at 72nd Street, a girl was also running north, with headphones on.  As the biker headed down the hill, she sped up and promptly lost control, but because she couldn't touch the ground with her feet, she had no way to bail out.  She screeched and swerved, but the runner with her iPod had no idea what hit her.  Literally:

A number of us stopped to check on everyone and thankfully, it seemed all parties would make a full recovery.  Which means I don't feel badly about victim blaming: for the billionth time, it's an unbelievable safety hazard to wear headphones in a place where, at any given moment, a 75 pound child riding a 30 pound bicycle could come barreling into you at 15 miles per hour, not to mention what kind of damage a car could do. Yep, the kid was absolutely out of control on a bike, and was approaching from behind (that's what he said), where she had full view of her surroundings, whereas the runner did not.  I get it - the cyclist here was at fault.  But something tells me it matters a whole lot less who's at fault when you're smushed under 105 pounds of child, rubber, and metal.  At that point, the damage is done.  Kids aren't born knowing how to ride bikes, and much as we like to assume that entering a multi-use facility like Central Park means entering into a contract with those around us that we'll be kept safe, I've signed no such agreement any time I've crossed over Central Park South.  Why not do what you can to keep yourself safe since you can't trust those around you to keep you safe?  

Maybe safety's not your thing - you play fast and loose.  Fine.  But I promise you, when you spend 9 hours a day listening to the sound of your typing and the humming of fluorescent lights in your windowless office, listening to the wind rushing by your ears as you enjoy the Park on foot is an awesome feeling.  Try it.

/end rant.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 20. 

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: 5.  I've been drinking a lot of white wine lately, because I have been masquerading as a classy lady.  The jig is up.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: Brooklyn Summer Ale, Tsing Tao, Lagunitas IPA.

Monday Wrap Up: Post-Race Doldrums

The marathon is a funny thing.  You train and you train and then you get to a point where, even when you have a big, important goal, you feel like “eff I am so over this, let’s just do it and I don’t even care what happens.”  And then the race comes and HOLY SHIT do you care what happens, and for like a week you feel like a total bad ass (more or less so, depending on what happens), and then after that you feel weird and empty and kind of sad and definitely very fat and lazy.  At least that’s how it goes for me.

Those sentiments were delayed a bit this time around since I was traveling for a while after the race, still very much go-go-go, but when I finally landed back on solid, East Coast ground last week, they hit hard.  “My God, I ran only 8 miles last week!” I thought.  “I’ll be starting from scratch for the fall season because I am so fat and lazy!”

This, I want to acknowledge, is INSANE thinking.  I had taken a grand total of about 4 days off, during which I didn’t run and instead ate fish tacos and drank Bud Lights and the most exercise I got was running from my towel into the Pacific Ocean to pee.  And that’s okay, and most certainly will not result in starting from scratch in the fall season.  But when you’re coming off 16 weeks during which you were running 6 times a week, 4 days off in a row is a shock to the system.

Thankfully, things seem to have sorted themselves out, and after a couple of awesome days outdoor adventures, including a rambling walk through Red Hook, many deep fried foods from the sea, a ferry ride back to Manhattan, a pedicure during which the pedicurist tried VERY hard to remove my calluses and I tried VERY hard to prevent that from happening (“Thanks, but I need them”), many delicious brunch foods, and a Sunday evening constitutional that concluded with a beer at Pier I while the sun set over the Hudson, the weird, empty, sad, fat, and lazy feelings gave way to “what an awesome weekend” feelings, MyFitnessPal be damed.*

*I’m not sure the Social Diet facilitates realistic and healthy expectations about marathon recovery, and it certainly detracts from the enjoyment of beer drinking, which is lame.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 33.  There are weeks during training when I don’t run that many miles, so any weird, empty, sad, fat, lazy feelings can go right to hell, thankyouverymuch.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week:  Just 3.  Instead, I went hog wild with sauvignon blanc last week, most notably on Wednesday night.  I did not feel exceptional when I woke up on Thursday morning.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: Smuttynose Finestkind IPA, Sam Summer, and Bell’s Amber Ale.

I don't know how to end this, so here's a tangentially-related clip about feelings by the best recording duo of all time:

If you suggest that this remake is in any way inferior to the original, you're dead to me.

Wednesday Wrap Up: The Rest of the West, and Spring Flings

After spending just one of 16 nights in my apartment over the past several weeks, I'm finally back in New York for the foreseeable future (well, until Sunday, when I'll go to Connecticut for Mother's Day).  My watch (and body clock) is still on Pacific Time, my coffee table is piled with mail, and my dry cleaner had forgotten my name by the time I dropped on my clothes on Tuesday, I was away for so long.  But finally, I'm back.

I had a great, if hectic, trip to the West Coast, and enjoyed awesome runs in San Francisco (you've already heard about those) and Portland (I'll get to those in a minute).  I did no running whatsoever in San Diego, but I also did not get sunburned, which is a tremendous personal victory on the health and well-being front, so I'll call it a wash.

Best of all, while I was enjoying perfect weather in California and Oregon (and California again), it seems spring finally sprung back here at home.  I say this about every single season in New York, of course, but I mean it this time: Central Park is made for spring.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, because I'm here to wrap up last week.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 8.  Hahaha whoops.  I guess in retrospect, that's not as lazy as it sounds, since it was my first full week post-marathon.  It's still pretty lazy, though.  I ran 2 days in Oregon, around my sister's neighborhood, but once I got to San Diego, running gave way to walking on the beach, shocking my internal organs with cold Pacific Ocean water, aggressive dancing, and talking about surfing without actually doing it.  Also, I was at one point rendered breathless because the sea lions in La Jolla Cove smell so bad, so it felt like I was doing a hard workout.

Walking on the beach in a black cardigan and a cup of coffee.  Such a New York asshole.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: Probably about 12.  At one point, I walked into a bar in La Jolla and said "I'd like 10 Bud Lights, please."  But I didn't drink all of them.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week:  Well, I did drink some of the Bud Lights.  Also, a Hop Ottin IPA, Seven Brides' Crooked Finger IPA, Laurelwood Free Range Red ("The best red in Portland," the waiter told me.  "Just like you!" My sister said.  Now is a good time to mention that everyone who has known me since childhood considers me a redhead despite the fact that the "strawberry" part of my "strawberry blonde" designation is generous at best.), Calapooia Paddle Me IPA (thank goodness for the "Made in Oregon" store in the airport - I really stocked on on quality pre-wedding libations), and some Red Trolley Ale.  Good showing, Walsh. 

So here we are, the wonderful time of year before it becomes so hot and humid you have to change your clothes when you get to your office because you've sweat through everything.  Also, the time of year when I'm not training for anything.  I generally try to hit about 25 mpw in the off season, and with a half marathon at the end of next month, have some incentive to keep a weekly long run in the mix, but I'm also looking forward to walking, hiking, and not spending time indoors on the treadmill just because I haven't done a tempo run this week.  Running is my fitness pursuit of choice, of course, but for the next few weeks anyway, I'm looking forward to having a wandering eye when it comes to how I stay active.  An exercise spring fling, if you will.  I will.

Thursday Wrap Up: What Are We Wrapping Up, Again?

I'm coming to you live from San Francisco International Airport today, which I think is Thursday. I'm pretty sure. It's hard to say exactly, and I've actually been in this airport three times in 8 days, so bear with me as I try to remember what in God's name even happened last week.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 42. Holy shit, last week I ran a marathon? You're kidding! That seems like a billion years ago. I had two great runs along the Embarcadero in San Francisco last week, and then was resigned to the treadmill at the Westin for the last run of my stay.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: Not zero! Finally. I had two on Monday after the race, two on Wednesday after I arrived in San Francisco and needed to do something to stay awake until 8pm, which I deemed an acceptable bedtime despite the fact that the sun was still up, one on Thursday during a meeting (those are the best kinds of meetings, right?), one on Friday, two on Saturday, and one on Sunday. 7 whole beers! And I have to tell you, it only takes one to get drunk now! Unfortunately, it also only takes one to get hungover as well. I need to rethink this strategy going forward.

Types of Beers Consumed This Week: My first beer back was a Harpoon IPA. I followed that up with a Sam Adams, then spent my time in San Francisco drinking Anchor Steam because that was what was in the hotel mini bar. I also had a Faction Pale Ale, and a Sierra Nevada of questionable integrity. Well, I didn't question it. Beer doesn't go bad, in my opinion.

So all that brings us to today, Thursday. Since I left San Francisco on Monday, I've been to Portland, Oregon, where I drank more great beers and ran in a third state in which I don't live, and am now back again, en route to San Diego for the weekend, where I hope to continue running and definitely anticipate continued beer drinking. I have a vague recollection of having an apartment and a cat (he's staying in Connecticut during my prolonged absence, and I have no doubt he is enjoying it much more than he enjoys our tiny home in Manhattan), but it's all a distant memory. I get back to New York on Sunday, 12 days after I began this cross-country, combination business and personal trip. Unless you're an exceptionally good packer, and excel at staying awake late, I don't really recommend doing what I'm doing, least of all immediately after a marathon, but I won't complain about going to three of the best cities on the west coast that happen to be having incredible weather.

It's time to enter airplane mode, so I'll be back to recap the running in Oregon and SoCal later. If you need me, I'll be coating myself in sunscreen, too tired to determine if I should be wearing a suit or a sundress for whatever cocktail party is next on my agenda. It's a hard life, people.