The end of this week marks the midpoint of training for the half-marathon. Feels like a good time to look at how it's been going.
If you don't already know, I'm running the Rock 'n Roll Half-Marathon in D.C. on March 17.
This is week 6 of training, and if I'm being honest, I haven't really been great about it. I didn't really keep to the mid-week runs during the first four weeks. Look, no excuses. I shouldn't have been so nonchalant about it, but here was my thinking: waking up at 5 a.m. to run was just so unappealing. Plus, the long runs were two four-mile runs and two five-mile runs. Well, I ran four and five miles, like, four times a week all summer and fall.
The point is this: I knew I could get out and run four and five miles without a problem. So I didn't feel the urgency to get after it as hard as I should have. And I did. I finished the first few long runs without an issue.
Well on Saturday, I ran six miles -- the longest distance since the first half-marathon nearly two and a half years ago. I knew the six-mile run was going to be the most challenging of training so far, so I knew I had to get my ass in gear and do the mid-week morning runs leading up to it.
See, the thing about training is it's not all about getting up to the distance and running further. Of course that's a large part of it. Another large part of it is getting your body accustomed to the wear-and-tear.
I was running between 15 and 20 miles a week between July and October, and I never experienced any injuries (that weren't related to softball haha). Once I started my job at the end of October, I really fell off the running wagon.
So you could say I was a little concerned about the six-mile run. It was entirely my own fault, but it is what it is. On a few of the earlier training runs, I experienced a little tightness in my right hamstring. That's a problem because that's what I injured during the summer of 2010 when I tried to train for a half-marathon.
The pain hasn't been nearly as bad, and I've been obsessive about stretching. And the pain has subsided as soon as I stop running or stretch it out, which tells me it isn't necessarily an injury -- it's just a little tightness that will hopefully work itself out as I continue to stretch properly and run more often. That's what I'm hoping anyway.
Well, I woke up on Saturday, walked Allie and stretched for the run. I mapped out a three-mile path so I could run to the turn-around point and come back, totaling six miles. I made it about a mile and a half when I felt the first twinge in my hamstring. I immediately stopped and stretched it out for a good minute or so. The next two and a half miles passed by pain-free, which is significant because almost the entirety of the path from mile marker 2 to mile marker 3 was the most ridiculous uphill stretch I've ever done.
That I was able to run the entire way up that hill without experiencing any hamstring pain is a huge reason why I'm so hopeful it's nothing terribly serious. At the top of the hill, mile 3, I paused again for another minute or two to stretch. I stopped to stretch once more at mile 4.5.
All told, I walked barely a quarter-mile of the six mile path and stopped to stretch for a total of maybe six or seven minutes. And I still finished the six miles in just more than 62 minutes.
Let's GO. That tells me my pace is pretty solid, and as long as I keep up with stretching and don't miss anymore mid-week runs I'm going to be just fine. What a relief. I'm really excited about not experiencing any lingering pain in the hamstring.
A year and a half ago, it hurt constantly -- walking, running (obviously), standing, whatevs. And the pain lasted for almost a solid YEAR. It was terrible. So that's why I'm concluding it'll work itself out if I'm responsible about the rest of training.
I really can't wait. I've been thinking about the first half-marathon more lately. What a fucking adrenaline rush. As I got closer to the finish line, with maybe three-quarters of a mile or half a mile to go, I could hear the crowd cheering. And let me tell you, that's exactly when you need to hear the cheers.
My legs felt like jelly. Well, I don't know that because I couldn't really feel them anyway. I'm honestly pretty surprised I didn't fall down because I tried to run a bit harder down the homestretch. And that's not really feasible when your legs are bordering on numbness.
Anyway. We're almost to the midpoint of training, and while I haven't been as on-the-ball as I should have been so far, I think I'm still on track. I can get it back quickly, and there's still plenty of time left to make the gains I need to make. CAN'T WAIT.
Let's go!
-BG
Showing posts with label running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label running. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Hooray Weather!
Finally!
Awesome weather has returned to the DC area! For the better part of the past two weeks, at least, it's been awful. Cold. Rainy. Cloudy. Dreary. Blegh.
But yesterday was different. Sunny! High temperature in the 60s!
This week, I decided to bump up my mileage for running. For the past month or so, I'd been running four miles on Tuesday and Thursday, and then running five miles on the weekend (whichever day I didn't have to wake up early for whatever sport was happening).
I figured it was time to up the difficulty and run five miles on Tuesday and Thursday and six miles on the weekend. So yesterday was the first weekday I was going to run five miles. When I woke up to walk Allie and felt and saw how excellent the weather was outside, I was immediately pumped. Already, "The Distance" was humming in my head, and I just couldn't wait.
And oh man. It was a fantastic run. I ran every bit of the five miles and finished in just more than 46 minutes. While nine-minute miles may not seem impressive, it's important to note I had to really bust my ass to finish ONE mile in nine minutes last year. Now, I'm running all five miles in right around nine minutes each. Miles 1 and 2 were in the 8:30-8:40 range because I was pacing myself to try to run the entire time. Mile 3, as I've mentioned, is a lot of uphill, so I'm slower there. But still. Clear improvement.
It's also important to note if I can finish my next half-marathon with nine-minute miles, I'll finish in under two hours, which would be a 20-minute improvement over my first race. Needless to say, I'm really excited with my progress so far.
And, again, finally it did NOT rain on a Tuesday. Seems like that's the first time in a month. We've only been able to play one softball game, despite the season being a month old already. Before last night, we were 1-1 on the season. We lost our first game -- a game we should have won, but we had a bunch of errors in one inning that allowed a bunch of runs to score. And we picked up a forfeit victory last week.
We had two games last night against the same team. Allegedly, according to Andrew, this team was previously undefeated. Well, we beat them twice, 8-7 and 9-8. Let's GO.
I am compelled to mention our team almost entirely the same team that went 2-13 in the CAN softball league over the summer. Well, we won as many games last night as we did in that entire season. But not without making it interesting.
The first game was tight throughout. We were winning 6-5 going into the bottom of the final inning. We were the home team for the first game and the visiting team for the second. All we had to do was hold them to win. Of course, they scored a run to tie the game.
In the bottom of the final inning, we loaded the bases with two outs, but a harmless pop up ended the inning. The top of the first extra inning, their first hitter hit a ball so far we didn't even bother chasing it. Home run. They were up 7-6. We managed to hold them there, though.
Then we finally came through and scored two runs in the bottom of the inning to win. Dale scored the winning run on a throwing error, which is something we're usually accustomed to happening to us. So it was nice to be on the winning end for once.
We led the second game by a decent margin for most of the game. We played solid defense throughout, and scored runs in almost every inning. One of the better games we've played in either league. Up until the last inning.
We were up 9-5 going into the other team's last at-bat. We changed pitchers for the last inning because he wanted a save haha. He then loaded the bases with no outs to bring the tying run to the plate. In his defense, he yanked himself from the game right then haha. He knew what was at stake.
Evan got a quick out, but we were still facing a bases-loaded situation with one out. A couple of hits and errors later, and it was a 9-8 game. They had players on first and second base with one out.
Their next hitter smacked a liner right at Brent at shortstop. He grabbed it and saw the runner at second off the bag. His throw was a little low, but Jen broke out a Mark Teixeira-like scoop at second, beating the runner back to the base and securing the win. What a finish.
We're 3-1! I can't imagine any teams being all that much better than the team we played last night. Also, the improvement we've shown since the CAN league is incredible! I knew it would happen, and I totally called it this summer. We have so many people who are such solid players; we just needed to play together more often.
I didn't have a great night offensively. A couple of hits, a run scored. Nothing noteworthy. But I played first base for the entire first game and 2/3 of the second game. Wow, I loved it. Like, a lot.
I loved joking with the opposing players when they reached first. I loved being involved in some way in almost every play. I was able to field a couple of grounders cleanly and make some solid plays with the pitcher covering first. I missed a couple of scoop opportunities, but I blocked a couple of others from getting through.
Although, I did come away with a nice bruise on my left index finger. Our infielders really have to throw it hard to first to beat the runners, and one time I felt a throw from Sean hit my finger inside the glove a little more directly than I would have liked haha. Aaand bruise.
Anyway, I'm totally going to campaign to play first base in every game I can. Loved it. Let's go Pack! Keep it rolling now!
So yeah. Thank God the weather has turned for the better this week. It's supposed to be LEGIT awesome throughout the weekend, too. It's going to be a HUGE next few days, tomorrow especially. Feel free to IM me and discuss it if you'd like. Suffice it to say, I'm pumped.
And then Friday, there are preliminary plans to hit one or more of our favorite bars downtown. Great success.
Saturday, flag football in the morning, and a ridiculous day planned because a friend of Katie's is moving away. Katie promised me the day, which includes stops at several bars, WILL end in dancing. GREATER success!
And next week? Whooooaaa boy. Raleigh on Friday night to go out for Mike's birthday. It's also Laura's birthday so she should definitely make it out, too. And then Charlotte for Kirk/Liz's wedding on Saturday? Wow. WOW. That's a lot of dancing potential. GREATEST success!
CAN'T WAIT.
-BG
Awesome weather has returned to the DC area! For the better part of the past two weeks, at least, it's been awful. Cold. Rainy. Cloudy. Dreary. Blegh.
But yesterday was different. Sunny! High temperature in the 60s!
This week, I decided to bump up my mileage for running. For the past month or so, I'd been running four miles on Tuesday and Thursday, and then running five miles on the weekend (whichever day I didn't have to wake up early for whatever sport was happening).
I figured it was time to up the difficulty and run five miles on Tuesday and Thursday and six miles on the weekend. So yesterday was the first weekday I was going to run five miles. When I woke up to walk Allie and felt and saw how excellent the weather was outside, I was immediately pumped. Already, "The Distance" was humming in my head, and I just couldn't wait.
And oh man. It was a fantastic run. I ran every bit of the five miles and finished in just more than 46 minutes. While nine-minute miles may not seem impressive, it's important to note I had to really bust my ass to finish ONE mile in nine minutes last year. Now, I'm running all five miles in right around nine minutes each. Miles 1 and 2 were in the 8:30-8:40 range because I was pacing myself to try to run the entire time. Mile 3, as I've mentioned, is a lot of uphill, so I'm slower there. But still. Clear improvement.
It's also important to note if I can finish my next half-marathon with nine-minute miles, I'll finish in under two hours, which would be a 20-minute improvement over my first race. Needless to say, I'm really excited with my progress so far.
And, again, finally it did NOT rain on a Tuesday. Seems like that's the first time in a month. We've only been able to play one softball game, despite the season being a month old already. Before last night, we were 1-1 on the season. We lost our first game -- a game we should have won, but we had a bunch of errors in one inning that allowed a bunch of runs to score. And we picked up a forfeit victory last week.
We had two games last night against the same team. Allegedly, according to Andrew, this team was previously undefeated. Well, we beat them twice, 8-7 and 9-8. Let's GO.
I am compelled to mention our team almost entirely the same team that went 2-13 in the CAN softball league over the summer. Well, we won as many games last night as we did in that entire season. But not without making it interesting.
The first game was tight throughout. We were winning 6-5 going into the bottom of the final inning. We were the home team for the first game and the visiting team for the second. All we had to do was hold them to win. Of course, they scored a run to tie the game.
In the bottom of the final inning, we loaded the bases with two outs, but a harmless pop up ended the inning. The top of the first extra inning, their first hitter hit a ball so far we didn't even bother chasing it. Home run. They were up 7-6. We managed to hold them there, though.
Then we finally came through and scored two runs in the bottom of the inning to win. Dale scored the winning run on a throwing error, which is something we're usually accustomed to happening to us. So it was nice to be on the winning end for once.
We led the second game by a decent margin for most of the game. We played solid defense throughout, and scored runs in almost every inning. One of the better games we've played in either league. Up until the last inning.
We were up 9-5 going into the other team's last at-bat. We changed pitchers for the last inning because he wanted a save haha. He then loaded the bases with no outs to bring the tying run to the plate. In his defense, he yanked himself from the game right then haha. He knew what was at stake.
Evan got a quick out, but we were still facing a bases-loaded situation with one out. A couple of hits and errors later, and it was a 9-8 game. They had players on first and second base with one out.
Their next hitter smacked a liner right at Brent at shortstop. He grabbed it and saw the runner at second off the bag. His throw was a little low, but Jen broke out a Mark Teixeira-like scoop at second, beating the runner back to the base and securing the win. What a finish.
We're 3-1! I can't imagine any teams being all that much better than the team we played last night. Also, the improvement we've shown since the CAN league is incredible! I knew it would happen, and I totally called it this summer. We have so many people who are such solid players; we just needed to play together more often.
I didn't have a great night offensively. A couple of hits, a run scored. Nothing noteworthy. But I played first base for the entire first game and 2/3 of the second game. Wow, I loved it. Like, a lot.
I loved joking with the opposing players when they reached first. I loved being involved in some way in almost every play. I was able to field a couple of grounders cleanly and make some solid plays with the pitcher covering first. I missed a couple of scoop opportunities, but I blocked a couple of others from getting through.
Although, I did come away with a nice bruise on my left index finger. Our infielders really have to throw it hard to first to beat the runners, and one time I felt a throw from Sean hit my finger inside the glove a little more directly than I would have liked haha. Aaand bruise.
Anyway, I'm totally going to campaign to play first base in every game I can. Loved it. Let's go Pack! Keep it rolling now!
So yeah. Thank God the weather has turned for the better this week. It's supposed to be LEGIT awesome throughout the weekend, too. It's going to be a HUGE next few days, tomorrow especially. Feel free to IM me and discuss it if you'd like. Suffice it to say, I'm pumped.
And then Friday, there are preliminary plans to hit one or more of our favorite bars downtown. Great success.
Saturday, flag football in the morning, and a ridiculous day planned because a friend of Katie's is moving away. Katie promised me the day, which includes stops at several bars, WILL end in dancing. GREATER success!
And next week? Whooooaaa boy. Raleigh on Friday night to go out for Mike's birthday. It's also Laura's birthday so she should definitely make it out, too. And then Charlotte for Kirk/Liz's wedding on Saturday? Wow. WOW. That's a lot of dancing potential. GREATEST success!
CAN'T WAIT.
-BG
Friday, September 30, 2011
The List
I'm overwhelmed with the desire and the compulsion to get out and do things. I have a tremendous amount of energy, and I find I must be out doing things most of the time now. I actually get antsy now if I stay put for too long.
A while back, I asked on Twitter and Facebook for blog ideas, and Erik's dad suggested writing about things I've always wanted to do but haven't yet for whatever reason. So, credit for this idea goes to Mr. H. I've adapted it a little bit. The job situation threw off a lot of things I wanted to do and ruined a lot of plans I had. But it's time to stop using that as an excuse. I'm perfectly capable of doing whatever the hell I want to do anyway.
The focus of this list isn't so much things I've always wanted to do but haven't yet, it's things I absolutely intend to do going forward over the next six-to-12 months or so. These may be things I've done before but not in a while or things I haven't had the chance to do yet.
In either case, here's a list of 10 things I will accomplish in the coming year. Not all of them may be spectacularly interesting to you, but they're things I want to do. Make your own damn list if you have a problem with mine!
In no particular order:
1. Half-Marathon
I will run another half-marathon. The Bermuda half-marathon I found is likely a pipe-dream. It would just be really expensive to get myself there, no matter how worth it the race might be.
But there are others! Mike and I are currently discussing a DC race in March -- the Rock 'n Roll Marathon/Half-Marathon on March 17. It starts and finishes at RFK Stadium, and the course is throughout downtown DC. Basically, it's awesome.
The race is a Saturday, so we could kill the race, and then wear our medals out when we go out Saturday night. Now to work on Nick so he'll run the half with me. Mike will run the full. No thank you, sir. I did my first half alone, so it would be fine either way. But we'd need Nick to go out Saturday night -- no question.
Training would start by the end of December. I love the idea of a March half-marathon. I don't love the idea of training throughout the winter, but c'est la vie. It will help keep my ass from refatting up, for sure.
Also, not only will I run another half-marathon, I will beat the time (2:19:51) from my first half-marathon.
2. Warrior Dash
I will complete a Warrior Dash. As I mentioned in a post earlier this month, I have my sights set on a race in south Florida at the beginning of December. One of my sister's best friends wants to run in it, and I'd love to do it as well.
It's essentially a 5k for the mentally unstable, and it includes rope climbs, mud-pit crawls, leaping over flaming logs, etc. You know, the usual. So, so great. I really can't wait to do one of these.
Plus, you get a viking helmet for completing the race!
3. Join a Band
I've also written about this on the blog before. Once the job situation is cleared up, I plan to scour Craigslist to find a band looking for a drummer. I want the band to be a bunch of relaxed, drama-free people who want to play some fun music that gets people dancing. Some original songs, some cover songs. Let's just have some fun.
I really, really want to play live music in front of an audience again. What a rush, man. I miss that, for sure.
4. Skiing
I went skiing for the first time in my life a little less than two years ago with the ex-girl and some friends from the ex-job. It was magnificent. It was exhilarating. There aren't enough good things to say about it.
I fell down, because of course I did. I went too fast. I had no idea what I was doing. It was awesome. Awesome!
I will go again this winter. Who knows, maybe I can get some friends together and pull off an actual ski weekend. How ridiculous would that be? Very ridiculous.
5. New York
New York is my favorite city in the United States. By far. My extended family lives close by, and I have some friends who live there as well.
I want a weekend in the city with everyone who can make it. I want to go to the top of the Empire State building again. I want to see Ground Zero again. I want to go to a Yankee game again. I want to go to the top of the Statue of Liberty.
Yes, I want to be a moronic tourist. And then I want to go out until the bars close at 4 a.m. (ATTN: NICK, MIKE AND EVERYONE. WE MUST DO THIS.).
Or I want to go for a weekend with some of my DC friends. Why not? It's only a few-hour drive away.
I haven't been to New York in a while. Maybe two years? Too long. Let's do this.
6. Cousins Weekend
I wrote extensively about my weekend in Savannah with my uncle and cousins. It was one of the most ridiculous weekends I've ever had.
We will do it again. Jeb and I already began preliminary discussions about the next weekend. We think April-ish might be the best time for it since the weather is mostly good anywhere then.
We have a few ideas for other cities, but we also kind of feel like a Savannah sequel would be pretty awesome.
In any case, beware. A pack of Grossmans will invade someplace this spring and cause scenes of debauchery all over the place. LET'S GO!
7. Look Good
My weekend in Raleigh set me back a few pounds, but it wasn't crazy. I'm so, so close to my goal weight of 180 pounds. It's unbelievable. When I set the goal, 180 seemed so far away -- an impossible pie-in-the-sky number I'd never reach. Now I'm within five-to-seven pounds of the goal.
I've said it before, but I won't stop at 180. My updated goal will be more body-fat-percentage related than weight-related. When I was up near 230 pounds back in the Spring, my body fat was 30 percent. Yikes.
I've gotten it down to 22 percent since then, which is an awesome improvement. But there's still work to do. I'd love to get down to 17 percent. That's my ultimate goal. Really, it's about fitting comfortably into smaller clothes, which I've been doing a LOT lately. I'm down from extra-large shirts to medium shirts in some cases. And I've recently downgraded from 38-inch jeans to 34-inch jeans.
Still work to do. Can't get satisfied or complacent. Gotta push as hard as I ever have. Time to crank up the intensity in the gym.
CAN'T WAIT.
8. Run More 5Ks
If you've ever completed a race of any kind, you know how insane it is. Doesn't matter what the distance is. Running a race gets the adrenaline and the blood pumping like nothing else. After I absolutely kicked the ass of my last 5K, I want to run more.
I just love the race atmosphere. And competing against myself and pushing myself to do better than I did last time. It's a hell of a drug.
So why not run more 5Ks? No real good reason not to! The half-marathon training program I use calls for a 5K race about halfway through, so I'll aim for one around then. It also calls for a 10K race three weeks before the half-marathon, so I'll also look for one of those!
I'm so excited right now haha.
9. Camping
I haven't been camping since I was 14 years old. I remember loving it then. I went with a couple friends and one of the friend's parents.
We ended up breaking the tent somehow. I'm not sure what we did, but I know we were not successful in constructing the tent. We also made it impossible to be successful constructing the tent somehow. We ended up putting the tent exterior on the ground to sleep on and hanging a tarp in the trees above our heads so we were covered in some way. Lulz.
I'd absolutely love to go camping again. A decent tent isn't even that expensive. You can get an OK tent for like $60 at Dick's.
Sounds like an awesome weekend to me. Bring some friends, some alcohol and hang out in the woods? Yes and please.
Also, it would give me a chance to take part in one of my absolute FAVORITE pastimes -- staring at the stars. I can (and have, by the way) lie down and stare at the stars for hours on end. I'm fascinated. Always have been.
Even now, if I walk outside at night, I instinctively look up just to see what there is. Unfortunately, living so close to the city, there isn't much. If we went camping far enough away, I bet we could see some kick ass stars.
10. Kayaking
I've been kayaking a couple of times with my family on big family vacations with aunts, uncles and the aforementioned cousins.
I remember humorous situations involving my sister refusing to paddle anymore, leaving me to propel the two-person kayak on my own. And large insects/spiders falling into the kayak with us. I care less for the insects.
But the kayaking itself! It's a tough workout, man, but I remember loving it. There are a shit-ton of rivers around here. I bet it's possible to kayak in them.
DC friends, seems like it would be a good way to burn some of the calories we take in on some weekend nights, no?
There are other things I'd like to do, like visit California, spend some time in Europe, go snorkeling again, SCUBA, etc. But it seems irresponsible to do some/all of those things with the job situation uncertain. Baby steps first. I'm excited about every item on this list though; I know that much.
Once the job situation becomes clear, perhaps I'll update the list with things that will be more possible then.
Until then, I can't wait to start checking things off.
Do you have any interest in doing any of these things with me? Seriously, please let me know! We'll make some plans, and knock out some of this list.
Thanks for reading, as always. See you Monday!
-BG
A while back, I asked on Twitter and Facebook for blog ideas, and Erik's dad suggested writing about things I've always wanted to do but haven't yet for whatever reason. So, credit for this idea goes to Mr. H. I've adapted it a little bit. The job situation threw off a lot of things I wanted to do and ruined a lot of plans I had. But it's time to stop using that as an excuse. I'm perfectly capable of doing whatever the hell I want to do anyway.
The focus of this list isn't so much things I've always wanted to do but haven't yet, it's things I absolutely intend to do going forward over the next six-to-12 months or so. These may be things I've done before but not in a while or things I haven't had the chance to do yet.
In either case, here's a list of 10 things I will accomplish in the coming year. Not all of them may be spectacularly interesting to you, but they're things I want to do. Make your own damn list if you have a problem with mine!
In no particular order:
1. Half-Marathon
I will run another half-marathon. The Bermuda half-marathon I found is likely a pipe-dream. It would just be really expensive to get myself there, no matter how worth it the race might be.
But there are others! Mike and I are currently discussing a DC race in March -- the Rock 'n Roll Marathon/Half-Marathon on March 17. It starts and finishes at RFK Stadium, and the course is throughout downtown DC. Basically, it's awesome.
The race is a Saturday, so we could kill the race, and then wear our medals out when we go out Saturday night. Now to work on Nick so he'll run the half with me. Mike will run the full. No thank you, sir. I did my first half alone, so it would be fine either way. But we'd need Nick to go out Saturday night -- no question.
Training would start by the end of December. I love the idea of a March half-marathon. I don't love the idea of training throughout the winter, but c'est la vie. It will help keep my ass from refatting up, for sure.
Also, not only will I run another half-marathon, I will beat the time (2:19:51) from my first half-marathon.
2. Warrior Dash
I will complete a Warrior Dash. As I mentioned in a post earlier this month, I have my sights set on a race in south Florida at the beginning of December. One of my sister's best friends wants to run in it, and I'd love to do it as well.
It's essentially a 5k for the mentally unstable, and it includes rope climbs, mud-pit crawls, leaping over flaming logs, etc. You know, the usual. So, so great. I really can't wait to do one of these.
Plus, you get a viking helmet for completing the race!
3. Join a Band
I've also written about this on the blog before. Once the job situation is cleared up, I plan to scour Craigslist to find a band looking for a drummer. I want the band to be a bunch of relaxed, drama-free people who want to play some fun music that gets people dancing. Some original songs, some cover songs. Let's just have some fun.
I really, really want to play live music in front of an audience again. What a rush, man. I miss that, for sure.
4. Skiing
I went skiing for the first time in my life a little less than two years ago with the ex-girl and some friends from the ex-job. It was magnificent. It was exhilarating. There aren't enough good things to say about it.
I fell down, because of course I did. I went too fast. I had no idea what I was doing. It was awesome. Awesome!
I will go again this winter. Who knows, maybe I can get some friends together and pull off an actual ski weekend. How ridiculous would that be? Very ridiculous.
5. New York
New York is my favorite city in the United States. By far. My extended family lives close by, and I have some friends who live there as well.
I want a weekend in the city with everyone who can make it. I want to go to the top of the Empire State building again. I want to see Ground Zero again. I want to go to a Yankee game again. I want to go to the top of the Statue of Liberty.
Yes, I want to be a moronic tourist. And then I want to go out until the bars close at 4 a.m. (ATTN: NICK, MIKE AND EVERYONE. WE MUST DO THIS.).
Or I want to go for a weekend with some of my DC friends. Why not? It's only a few-hour drive away.
I haven't been to New York in a while. Maybe two years? Too long. Let's do this.
6. Cousins Weekend
I wrote extensively about my weekend in Savannah with my uncle and cousins. It was one of the most ridiculous weekends I've ever had.
We will do it again. Jeb and I already began preliminary discussions about the next weekend. We think April-ish might be the best time for it since the weather is mostly good anywhere then.
We have a few ideas for other cities, but we also kind of feel like a Savannah sequel would be pretty awesome.
In any case, beware. A pack of Grossmans will invade someplace this spring and cause scenes of debauchery all over the place. LET'S GO!
7. Look Good
My weekend in Raleigh set me back a few pounds, but it wasn't crazy. I'm so, so close to my goal weight of 180 pounds. It's unbelievable. When I set the goal, 180 seemed so far away -- an impossible pie-in-the-sky number I'd never reach. Now I'm within five-to-seven pounds of the goal.
I've said it before, but I won't stop at 180. My updated goal will be more body-fat-percentage related than weight-related. When I was up near 230 pounds back in the Spring, my body fat was 30 percent. Yikes.
I've gotten it down to 22 percent since then, which is an awesome improvement. But there's still work to do. I'd love to get down to 17 percent. That's my ultimate goal. Really, it's about fitting comfortably into smaller clothes, which I've been doing a LOT lately. I'm down from extra-large shirts to medium shirts in some cases. And I've recently downgraded from 38-inch jeans to 34-inch jeans.
Still work to do. Can't get satisfied or complacent. Gotta push as hard as I ever have. Time to crank up the intensity in the gym.
CAN'T WAIT.
8. Run More 5Ks
If you've ever completed a race of any kind, you know how insane it is. Doesn't matter what the distance is. Running a race gets the adrenaline and the blood pumping like nothing else. After I absolutely kicked the ass of my last 5K, I want to run more.
I just love the race atmosphere. And competing against myself and pushing myself to do better than I did last time. It's a hell of a drug.
So why not run more 5Ks? No real good reason not to! The half-marathon training program I use calls for a 5K race about halfway through, so I'll aim for one around then. It also calls for a 10K race three weeks before the half-marathon, so I'll also look for one of those!
I'm so excited right now haha.
9. Camping
I haven't been camping since I was 14 years old. I remember loving it then. I went with a couple friends and one of the friend's parents.
We ended up breaking the tent somehow. I'm not sure what we did, but I know we were not successful in constructing the tent. We also made it impossible to be successful constructing the tent somehow. We ended up putting the tent exterior on the ground to sleep on and hanging a tarp in the trees above our heads so we were covered in some way. Lulz.
I'd absolutely love to go camping again. A decent tent isn't even that expensive. You can get an OK tent for like $60 at Dick's.
Sounds like an awesome weekend to me. Bring some friends, some alcohol and hang out in the woods? Yes and please.
Also, it would give me a chance to take part in one of my absolute FAVORITE pastimes -- staring at the stars. I can (and have, by the way) lie down and stare at the stars for hours on end. I'm fascinated. Always have been.
Even now, if I walk outside at night, I instinctively look up just to see what there is. Unfortunately, living so close to the city, there isn't much. If we went camping far enough away, I bet we could see some kick ass stars.
10. Kayaking
I've been kayaking a couple of times with my family on big family vacations with aunts, uncles and the aforementioned cousins.
I remember humorous situations involving my sister refusing to paddle anymore, leaving me to propel the two-person kayak on my own. And large insects/spiders falling into the kayak with us. I care less for the insects.
But the kayaking itself! It's a tough workout, man, but I remember loving it. There are a shit-ton of rivers around here. I bet it's possible to kayak in them.
DC friends, seems like it would be a good way to burn some of the calories we take in on some weekend nights, no?
There are other things I'd like to do, like visit California, spend some time in Europe, go snorkeling again, SCUBA, etc. But it seems irresponsible to do some/all of those things with the job situation uncertain. Baby steps first. I'm excited about every item on this list though; I know that much.
Once the job situation becomes clear, perhaps I'll update the list with things that will be more possible then.
Until then, I can't wait to start checking things off.
Do you have any interest in doing any of these things with me? Seriously, please let me know! We'll make some plans, and knock out some of this list.
Thanks for reading, as always. See you Monday!
-BG
Thursday, September 15, 2011
North Carolina
Sorry for the missed post yesterday. I spent pretty much all day driving to Charlotte. And then since I'm driving to Raleigh tomorrow, I probably won't post tomorrow. So this will be all this week. But! I am hoping to acquire enough material this weekend for some really great stories next week. I'm also hoping I'll be able to share that material publicly. We'll see how that goes haha.
I think it'll be worth it.
Anyway. If you're reading this, you probably know I was born in New Jersey. Northeast New Jersey to be exact -- approximately 20 minutes from New York City.
My family lived in New Jersey until I was 11 years old. In 1993, my dad took a job in Charlotte, and we moved away. It was devastating at the time, but that's a story for another day.
I consider myself a northerner. I always have. If you listen to me speak, you'll undoubtedly hear twinges of a northern accent. It's inescapable. Two years ago, my brother and I were driving to New Jersey to visit some family. We stopped at a toll booth, and the toll operator said hello, and I responded, "hey how you doin?" I didn't think anything of it. I didn't say it in an unusual way -- it was just the way I say things.
When we pulled away, my brother looked at me and goes, "Jesus, what's up Vito? What the hell was that?"Apparently, it came out in a very thick northern accent. I didn't mean to! It's just the way I speak.
And, of course, most of my favorite sports teams are New York-area teams. New York is my favorite city in the country. Etc., etc.
The point is, I self-identify as a northerner. I always have, despite having lived in North Carolina for 15 of the past 18 years -- more than half my life and more than the time I spent living in New Jersey.
The past two years, however, I've lived in the DC area -- definitely NOT the south. And now that I'm away from North Carolina, I find myself missing it more and more the longer I'm gone.
I guess I shouldn't find that to be so strange. I did almost all of my actual "growing up" in North Carolina. I went to middle school, high school and college in North Carolina. I worked in North Carolina. Almost every significant life event of mine up until now happened in North Carolina.
It's tough to explain. After spending so much time in downtown DC over the past couple of years, it just feels dramatically different being in North Carolina. I'm certainly not going to make any claims about one being better than the other or anything like that. That's ridiculous and pointless.
But I know I feel good when I'm in North Carolina. It feels like home to me. The air feels and smells different -- especially in the fall. The pace is certainly more in tune with my easy-going, laid-back nature (although I do really enjoy the faster-paced DC lifestyle). Also, they have sweet tea here. Everywhere.
I'll always think of myself as a northern guy transplanted to the south. But being away for the past couple of years feels like it has drawn me closer, and I miss it. Don't get me wrong: I love living where I live, and I don't intend to move away. Despite my intensely laid-back and relaxed nature, I feel like a city guy. So DC is extremely appealing to me.
But you know. North Carolina has its advantages, too. Especially this time of year. The humidity is fading, the air will be turning crisp and the leaves will start to turn soon. Fall in North Carolina is some kind of special experience. And the football. I have no problem admitting this: there is nothing like experiencing college football in the south. It's just different here. Definitely better, and that's factually correct.
So yeah. I'm pretty excited to be spending the next several days back home in North Carolina. I'm super pumped about spending time with friends I haven't seen in way too long. It just feels good here, man. I like it.
Brief Weight-Loss Update
I weighed in at 185 today before running, which is a loss of 42 pounds. I'm only 5 pounds away from my original goal weight. Incredible. I can't believe how far I've come. I can't believe how good I feel. I'm not going to say I look good, but I will say plenty of others say it for me and to me, and goddamn THAT feels good.
I can't imagine I'll stop at 180 when I get there. I haven't checked since last week, but my body fat percentage was still hovering around 22 percent -- down from more than 30 percent back in April. But I'm not satisfied with 22 percent. I want to get to 17 percent, ideally, but definitely less than 20 percent. Keep on truckin', my friends. No choice.
I ran another four miles today, and it was my best four-mile time ever. I did it in 36:38 this morning -- just more than a 9-minute mile pace. I don't have a stopwatch or anything, so to keep track of my pace, I have a playlist of running songs. I note the time of the song that's playing when I reach each mile marker, and then I figure it out when I get home based on how much time elapsed on the playlist.
So today, it went like this:
Mile 1: 8:31
Mile 2: 8:51
Mile 3: 10:46
Mile 4: 8:30
Mile 3's time is dramatically higher because I walked for around two minutes when I reached the two-mile turnaround point. The last quarter-mile or so of mile 2 was straight uphill, so when I got to the two-mile point, I gave myself a breather. After walking briefly, I picked it up again and ran the entire way home.
Some perspective: last year at this time, I needed more than 32 minutes to finish 3.1 miles. This year, I finished four miles in just more than 36 and a half minutes.
It's been a good day. Love seeing progress on the scale, in how my clothes fit, in the mirror, in my fitness level and running ability. I just can't imagine feeling better physically than I do right now. But I know I will as I keep this up.
And then combine that with going out with some of my oldest friends tonight -- some of whom have known me since I was 11 or 12 years old. And then this weekend of debauchery in Raleigh? Oh my god. You know what's coming now.
Man, let's GO.
-BG
I think it'll be worth it.
Anyway. If you're reading this, you probably know I was born in New Jersey. Northeast New Jersey to be exact -- approximately 20 minutes from New York City.
My family lived in New Jersey until I was 11 years old. In 1993, my dad took a job in Charlotte, and we moved away. It was devastating at the time, but that's a story for another day.
I consider myself a northerner. I always have. If you listen to me speak, you'll undoubtedly hear twinges of a northern accent. It's inescapable. Two years ago, my brother and I were driving to New Jersey to visit some family. We stopped at a toll booth, and the toll operator said hello, and I responded, "hey how you doin?" I didn't think anything of it. I didn't say it in an unusual way -- it was just the way I say things.
When we pulled away, my brother looked at me and goes, "Jesus, what's up Vito? What the hell was that?"Apparently, it came out in a very thick northern accent. I didn't mean to! It's just the way I speak.
And, of course, most of my favorite sports teams are New York-area teams. New York is my favorite city in the country. Etc., etc.
The point is, I self-identify as a northerner. I always have, despite having lived in North Carolina for 15 of the past 18 years -- more than half my life and more than the time I spent living in New Jersey.
The past two years, however, I've lived in the DC area -- definitely NOT the south. And now that I'm away from North Carolina, I find myself missing it more and more the longer I'm gone.
I guess I shouldn't find that to be so strange. I did almost all of my actual "growing up" in North Carolina. I went to middle school, high school and college in North Carolina. I worked in North Carolina. Almost every significant life event of mine up until now happened in North Carolina.
It's tough to explain. After spending so much time in downtown DC over the past couple of years, it just feels dramatically different being in North Carolina. I'm certainly not going to make any claims about one being better than the other or anything like that. That's ridiculous and pointless.
But I know I feel good when I'm in North Carolina. It feels like home to me. The air feels and smells different -- especially in the fall. The pace is certainly more in tune with my easy-going, laid-back nature (although I do really enjoy the faster-paced DC lifestyle). Also, they have sweet tea here. Everywhere.
I'll always think of myself as a northern guy transplanted to the south. But being away for the past couple of years feels like it has drawn me closer, and I miss it. Don't get me wrong: I love living where I live, and I don't intend to move away. Despite my intensely laid-back and relaxed nature, I feel like a city guy. So DC is extremely appealing to me.
But you know. North Carolina has its advantages, too. Especially this time of year. The humidity is fading, the air will be turning crisp and the leaves will start to turn soon. Fall in North Carolina is some kind of special experience. And the football. I have no problem admitting this: there is nothing like experiencing college football in the south. It's just different here. Definitely better, and that's factually correct.
So yeah. I'm pretty excited to be spending the next several days back home in North Carolina. I'm super pumped about spending time with friends I haven't seen in way too long. It just feels good here, man. I like it.
Brief Weight-Loss Update
I weighed in at 185 today before running, which is a loss of 42 pounds. I'm only 5 pounds away from my original goal weight. Incredible. I can't believe how far I've come. I can't believe how good I feel. I'm not going to say I look good, but I will say plenty of others say it for me and to me, and goddamn THAT feels good.
I can't imagine I'll stop at 180 when I get there. I haven't checked since last week, but my body fat percentage was still hovering around 22 percent -- down from more than 30 percent back in April. But I'm not satisfied with 22 percent. I want to get to 17 percent, ideally, but definitely less than 20 percent. Keep on truckin', my friends. No choice.
I ran another four miles today, and it was my best four-mile time ever. I did it in 36:38 this morning -- just more than a 9-minute mile pace. I don't have a stopwatch or anything, so to keep track of my pace, I have a playlist of running songs. I note the time of the song that's playing when I reach each mile marker, and then I figure it out when I get home based on how much time elapsed on the playlist.
So today, it went like this:
Mile 1: 8:31
Mile 2: 8:51
Mile 3: 10:46
Mile 4: 8:30
Mile 3's time is dramatically higher because I walked for around two minutes when I reached the two-mile turnaround point. The last quarter-mile or so of mile 2 was straight uphill, so when I got to the two-mile point, I gave myself a breather. After walking briefly, I picked it up again and ran the entire way home.
Some perspective: last year at this time, I needed more than 32 minutes to finish 3.1 miles. This year, I finished four miles in just more than 36 and a half minutes.
It's been a good day. Love seeing progress on the scale, in how my clothes fit, in the mirror, in my fitness level and running ability. I just can't imagine feeling better physically than I do right now. But I know I will as I keep this up.
And then combine that with going out with some of my oldest friends tonight -- some of whom have known me since I was 11 or 12 years old. And then this weekend of debauchery in Raleigh? Oh my god. You know what's coming now.
Man, let's GO.
-BG
Monday, September 12, 2011
Wisdom Teeth Surgery Made Me Feel Like The Godfather
This story is dedicated to my friend Jon, who will be having his wisdom teeth removed next week. Fear not, good buddy. I had a relatively easy time of it. Read on and relax!
It started during my sophomore year of college. Well the pain started then. For as long as I can remember, my jaw always clicked when I had to chew anything large or tough (i.e. a bagel or pizza crust, etc.). But my sophomore year of college, it really started to hurt.
I went to the dentist, and they did their X-rays. There was no discernible reason for the pain, except that it might be my wisdom teeth trying to come in. He wasn't 100 percent sure that's what it was because they were particularly impacted yet, but it wouldn't have been unheard of for that to be the cause.
I wouldn't say I'm scared of surgeries. I certainly don't care for them. I mean, who does? But I know a couple things. One, if you're undergoing some kind of surgery, anesthesia is usually involved. Two, anesthesia often makes people sick enough to vomit.
I do not vomit.
So I wasn't nervous about the surgery itself or the potential pain involved. The thought of possibly vomiting though -- couldn't handle it. Full of nerves about that.
We scheduled the surgery for May, right after I got back home from school for the summer to give me plenty of recovery time. My parents took me to the surgery since I wasn't going to be able to drive due to be under the influence of some heavy painkillers (more on that later).
I got into the back room, and they were getting the IV ready. Now, in addition to being, well, unenthused about the idea of vomiting, I am also less than fond of needles and shots (despite having a tattoo and wanting another).
The IV definitely made me more nervous than anything. The nurse gave me a stress ball to squeeze to get my veins pumped up for easy access. She stuck me with the needle, and I hated every second of it. I know it doesn't hurt that much -- it's just a mental thing I've had since I was very young.
She said to start counting backward from 100, and I don't believe I even started to say the first number before I was out.
I don't remember being woken up at all. The next thing I remember is the nurse helping me down the hall to my parents. Apparently, I was very concerned about a bad dream I had while I was out. I do not recall any of this, but I had a nice discussion about it with the nurse, according to the nurse.
Anyway. So the nurse helped me into the hallway to my parents. My parents got me into the car, and here's where things got interesting.
I mean, to say I was feeling good is a huge understatement. I don't remember what the specific painkillers were, but the David After the Dentist Youtube video is pretty accurate.
For me, it was less confusion over whether or not I was taking part in real life -- it was more I thought I was Don Vito Corleone.
The situation was compounded by the massive amounts of gauze I had to keep in my mouth for various reasons. So I was sitting in the car with my jaw jutting out because it was stuffed with gauze, and the painkiller haze filling me with absolute glee. Trying to talk like Don Corleone was a very natural next step.
It was then I proceeded to give my father several offers he couldn't refuse. And although Don Vito didn't say it, my best advice of the day was telling him to leave the gun and take the cannoli.
Well, at least I thought that's what I was saying. Turns out what I was actually doing was mumbling incoherently because the drugs had robbed me of my senses.
The only reason I know what I was saying is because, somehow, my mother understood me. There's just a biological link between mothers and children that obviously never goes away. I'd say something, my dad would look at me, dumbfounded, and my mother would answer me.
At that point, he'd look at her and say, in his understated way, "How the fuck did you understand what he just said?" To which she'd say, "You mean you didn't understand what he said?"
"No, of course I didn't. He's mumbling incoherently."
"Oh, I understood everything just fine."
Well then.
Some version of that continued for the rest of the drive home. I'd mumble something in my Don Corleone character. My mother would laugh. My father would be exasperated until she translated for him. I know beyond doubt they absolutely regret not having a video camera on that drive home.
To my everlasting delight, I never experienced any of the nausea of which I was so nervous before the surgery. I was still confined to soft foods for a few days. KFC mashed potatoes, ice cream and ginger ale ruled the house for quite some time after that.
I never experienced any significant pain or swelling or sickness at all. The worst thing I had to deal with was the annoyance of not being able to eat what I wanted. Also, the dissolving stitches they used. As parts of the stitches dissolved, other parts would detach and just hang free in my mouth.
Again, nothing painful. It was exactly what was supposed to happen, but man it annoyed me.
Oh, and there were holes in my mouth where the teeth used to be. I had to fill a syringe with a salt water solution to rinse them out after every meal. Let me tell you. That got old with the quickness. I say syringe, but I didn't have to inject anything anywhere. It was more to direct the water flow where I needed it to go. (Sorry that's a little gross, but it really wasn't as bad as it might sound.)
Within a few weeks, I was back to eating whatever I wanted to eat. The stitches dissolved and disappeared. I stopped needing to rinse my mouth after meals.
And, what do you know, the pain stopped. I guess dentists know something after all.
All that is to say this: Jonny, don't worry. It'll be fine. The worst thing I can say about my wisdom teeth surgery experience is it was a moderate annoyance. No pain, no swelling, no sickness, nothing really all that negative. It will be just fine!
So there you go.
Some miscellany, briefly:
-BG
It started during my sophomore year of college. Well the pain started then. For as long as I can remember, my jaw always clicked when I had to chew anything large or tough (i.e. a bagel or pizza crust, etc.). But my sophomore year of college, it really started to hurt.
I went to the dentist, and they did their X-rays. There was no discernible reason for the pain, except that it might be my wisdom teeth trying to come in. He wasn't 100 percent sure that's what it was because they were particularly impacted yet, but it wouldn't have been unheard of for that to be the cause.
I wouldn't say I'm scared of surgeries. I certainly don't care for them. I mean, who does? But I know a couple things. One, if you're undergoing some kind of surgery, anesthesia is usually involved. Two, anesthesia often makes people sick enough to vomit.
I do not vomit.
So I wasn't nervous about the surgery itself or the potential pain involved. The thought of possibly vomiting though -- couldn't handle it. Full of nerves about that.
We scheduled the surgery for May, right after I got back home from school for the summer to give me plenty of recovery time. My parents took me to the surgery since I wasn't going to be able to drive due to be under the influence of some heavy painkillers (more on that later).
I got into the back room, and they were getting the IV ready. Now, in addition to being, well, unenthused about the idea of vomiting, I am also less than fond of needles and shots (despite having a tattoo and wanting another).
The IV definitely made me more nervous than anything. The nurse gave me a stress ball to squeeze to get my veins pumped up for easy access. She stuck me with the needle, and I hated every second of it. I know it doesn't hurt that much -- it's just a mental thing I've had since I was very young.
She said to start counting backward from 100, and I don't believe I even started to say the first number before I was out.
I don't remember being woken up at all. The next thing I remember is the nurse helping me down the hall to my parents. Apparently, I was very concerned about a bad dream I had while I was out. I do not recall any of this, but I had a nice discussion about it with the nurse, according to the nurse.
Anyway. So the nurse helped me into the hallway to my parents. My parents got me into the car, and here's where things got interesting.
I mean, to say I was feeling good is a huge understatement. I don't remember what the specific painkillers were, but the David After the Dentist Youtube video is pretty accurate.
For me, it was less confusion over whether or not I was taking part in real life -- it was more I thought I was Don Vito Corleone.
The situation was compounded by the massive amounts of gauze I had to keep in my mouth for various reasons. So I was sitting in the car with my jaw jutting out because it was stuffed with gauze, and the painkiller haze filling me with absolute glee. Trying to talk like Don Corleone was a very natural next step.
It was then I proceeded to give my father several offers he couldn't refuse. And although Don Vito didn't say it, my best advice of the day was telling him to leave the gun and take the cannoli.
Well, at least I thought that's what I was saying. Turns out what I was actually doing was mumbling incoherently because the drugs had robbed me of my senses.
The only reason I know what I was saying is because, somehow, my mother understood me. There's just a biological link between mothers and children that obviously never goes away. I'd say something, my dad would look at me, dumbfounded, and my mother would answer me.
At that point, he'd look at her and say, in his understated way, "How the fuck did you understand what he just said?" To which she'd say, "You mean you didn't understand what he said?"
"No, of course I didn't. He's mumbling incoherently."
"Oh, I understood everything just fine."
Well then.
Some version of that continued for the rest of the drive home. I'd mumble something in my Don Corleone character. My mother would laugh. My father would be exasperated until she translated for him. I know beyond doubt they absolutely regret not having a video camera on that drive home.
To my everlasting delight, I never experienced any of the nausea of which I was so nervous before the surgery. I was still confined to soft foods for a few days. KFC mashed potatoes, ice cream and ginger ale ruled the house for quite some time after that.
I never experienced any significant pain or swelling or sickness at all. The worst thing I had to deal with was the annoyance of not being able to eat what I wanted. Also, the dissolving stitches they used. As parts of the stitches dissolved, other parts would detach and just hang free in my mouth.
Again, nothing painful. It was exactly what was supposed to happen, but man it annoyed me.
Oh, and there were holes in my mouth where the teeth used to be. I had to fill a syringe with a salt water solution to rinse them out after every meal. Let me tell you. That got old with the quickness. I say syringe, but I didn't have to inject anything anywhere. It was more to direct the water flow where I needed it to go. (Sorry that's a little gross, but it really wasn't as bad as it might sound.)
Within a few weeks, I was back to eating whatever I wanted to eat. The stitches dissolved and disappeared. I stopped needing to rinse my mouth after meals.
And, what do you know, the pain stopped. I guess dentists know something after all.
All that is to say this: Jonny, don't worry. It'll be fine. The worst thing I can say about my wisdom teeth surgery experience is it was a moderate annoyance. No pain, no swelling, no sickness, nothing really all that negative. It will be just fine!
So there you go.
Some miscellany, briefly:
- I weighed in at 188 again today, which is a great relief after this weekend haha. I'm loving running more and more every time, and I'm going to transition to a Tuesday, Thursday, Sunday running schedule since the half-marathon training schedule I use calls for Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and long runs on Sunday. I will be ready this time.
- And the rib is FINALLY painless! Completely painless! First time in five weeks! So that means back to the gym for some weight-lifting. Let's go!
- Our new softball league starts with a doubleheader under the lights tomorrow night! We have games at 9 p.m. and 10 p.m. CAN'T WAIT. New rule this season: no diving for balls.
- I'm planning on going to Charlotte on Wednesday morning for a couple of days before heading to Raleigh on Friday. Charlotte friends, holla!
- RALEIGH ON FRIDAY! I haven't seen some of you in entirely too long.
-BG
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
More Running, Warrior Dash and a Raleigh Trip
When I said yesterday that I planned on running four miles today rain or shine, apparently I lied. I ran FIVE miles today in the rain.
It was glorious. I could tell immediately it was one of those days where the run was going to feel really good.
"The Distance" cranked up (Reluctantly crouched at the starting line...) and goddamn it gets me hyped just thinking about it now. But I felt a surge of energy immediately. It was barely drizzling, but it quickly picked up to a steady rain about three-quarters of a mile into the run.
I really can't emphasize how awesome it is to run in the rain. I was on a straight and level path for a bit, so I just closed by eyes, put my head up and let the rain hit my face. So, so good. On the path I run, the second mile is a LOT of uphill. It usually wears me down pretty good, and I'll often stop and walk for a couple minutes when I reach my two-mile turnaround point.
But today felt different. I mapped out what the turnaround point would be for a five-mile run last year for my failed half-marathon training, although I was never able to run it. I remembered where it was though.
I hit the two-mile point today, and I was coasting, man. I felt not fatigue. I felt no soreness. I just felt good. So I kept going. I stopped to walk for two or three minutes at the 2.5-mile turnaround point just because it was the first time I'd really tried to push it to five miles total since my half-marathon back in Nov. 2009.
After that brief rest, I ran the rest of the way back, only stopping for red lights at crosswalks. Made it back in 48 minutes. Not bad at all for my first five-mile run in almost two years.
I've been talking to one of my sister's best friends in Florida a lot more lately. I met her and her husband when I was in Florida for vacation with my family last summer. Awesome people.
So we were talking last night about my 5K on Saturday and how awesome it was, and she asked me if I'd ever heard of Warrior Dash. I only very vaguely knew of it. But some quick research informed me that it is, essentially, a 5K for the mentally unstable. Naturally, I'm extremely intrigued now.
Check out that website and tell me that doesn't sound beyond awesome, and I'll tell you you're lying.
They do a bunch of locations, and depending on the course, it's between three and 3.5 miles or so. But look at those obstacles! Rope climbs over walls, wading through waist-deep water, rubber jungles, army crawling through the mud, jumping over flaming logs. Dude.
Plus! Look at the awesome viking/warrior helmet you get!!
I don't even have words. I simply must do this. So my sister's friend was talking about how she wants to do one on Dec. 3. If I can get my ass down to visit my sister that weekend, I will be running in the Dec. 3 Warrior Dash in South Florida.
And, oh yeah, they give you beer at the end of the race. Like I said, a 5K for the mentally unstable, and I happily count myself among them. I am so excited about the potential of running this. You don't even know.
I'm absolutely going to dragoon my sister into coming along to take photos of what I'm sure will be the most ridiculous finishing photo EVER of her friend and me. Oh my God. I need to do this haha.
On a completely unrelated note, the dog and I are looking to come to Raleigh the weekend of Sept. 16-18. I'm currently in talks with a kind soul who has offered to host us, but if there are any other volunteers who don't mind me and a well-behaved 5 1/2-year-old (i.e. not a puppy anymore) 70-pound border collie/black lab crashing for two nights, let me know! I will buy beer/dinner/something to compensate you for your troubles.
See, I need my NCSU football fix, and I don't want to wait much longer. Also, Raleigh friends, I want to see all of you. Even if I have to schedule you in 15-minute increments. I need it. It's been far too long for some of you.
You are on notice! Not this weekend, but the next weekend!
LET'S GO!
-BG
It was glorious. I could tell immediately it was one of those days where the run was going to feel really good.
"The Distance" cranked up (Reluctantly crouched at the starting line...) and goddamn it gets me hyped just thinking about it now. But I felt a surge of energy immediately. It was barely drizzling, but it quickly picked up to a steady rain about three-quarters of a mile into the run.
I really can't emphasize how awesome it is to run in the rain. I was on a straight and level path for a bit, so I just closed by eyes, put my head up and let the rain hit my face. So, so good. On the path I run, the second mile is a LOT of uphill. It usually wears me down pretty good, and I'll often stop and walk for a couple minutes when I reach my two-mile turnaround point.
But today felt different. I mapped out what the turnaround point would be for a five-mile run last year for my failed half-marathon training, although I was never able to run it. I remembered where it was though.
I hit the two-mile point today, and I was coasting, man. I felt not fatigue. I felt no soreness. I just felt good. So I kept going. I stopped to walk for two or three minutes at the 2.5-mile turnaround point just because it was the first time I'd really tried to push it to five miles total since my half-marathon back in Nov. 2009.
After that brief rest, I ran the rest of the way back, only stopping for red lights at crosswalks. Made it back in 48 minutes. Not bad at all for my first five-mile run in almost two years.
I've been talking to one of my sister's best friends in Florida a lot more lately. I met her and her husband when I was in Florida for vacation with my family last summer. Awesome people.
So we were talking last night about my 5K on Saturday and how awesome it was, and she asked me if I'd ever heard of Warrior Dash. I only very vaguely knew of it. But some quick research informed me that it is, essentially, a 5K for the mentally unstable. Naturally, I'm extremely intrigued now.
Check out that website and tell me that doesn't sound beyond awesome, and I'll tell you you're lying.
They do a bunch of locations, and depending on the course, it's between three and 3.5 miles or so. But look at those obstacles! Rope climbs over walls, wading through waist-deep water, rubber jungles, army crawling through the mud, jumping over flaming logs. Dude.
Plus! Look at the awesome viking/warrior helmet you get!!
I don't even have words. I simply must do this. So my sister's friend was talking about how she wants to do one on Dec. 3. If I can get my ass down to visit my sister that weekend, I will be running in the Dec. 3 Warrior Dash in South Florida.
And, oh yeah, they give you beer at the end of the race. Like I said, a 5K for the mentally unstable, and I happily count myself among them. I am so excited about the potential of running this. You don't even know.
I'm absolutely going to dragoon my sister into coming along to take photos of what I'm sure will be the most ridiculous finishing photo EVER of her friend and me. Oh my God. I need to do this haha.
On a completely unrelated note, the dog and I are looking to come to Raleigh the weekend of Sept. 16-18. I'm currently in talks with a kind soul who has offered to host us, but if there are any other volunteers who don't mind me and a well-behaved 5 1/2-year-old (i.e. not a puppy anymore) 70-pound border collie/black lab crashing for two nights, let me know! I will buy beer/dinner/something to compensate you for your troubles.
See, I need my NCSU football fix, and I don't want to wait much longer. Also, Raleigh friends, I want to see all of you. Even if I have to schedule you in 15-minute increments. I need it. It's been far too long for some of you.
You are on notice! Not this weekend, but the next weekend!
LET'S GO!
-BG
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
5K Race Report and the Running Bug
Dude. Hell yes.
I killed my 5K this weekend. Like, blowed it up real good.
A little back story.
Last summer, I thought I wanted to run another half-marathon. Well, I did want to run another one, I just wasn't anywhere close to the shape I needed to be in. At all. I hadn't been running as much as I should have been, and I hadn't been keeping up with my diet, well, at all.
But I'm stubborn. So I took my fat ass (approximately 30 lbs overweight then) and tried to force it.
After two and a half weeks of running, I, predictably, hurt myself. I pulled my hamstring, and it was not good. It was still hurting me back in the spring when I first started playing softball. There was no way I could continue training without hurting myself worse.
The then-girlfriend and I found a 5K right in my neighborhood that was going to take place in early September, and I decided I needed to run it. I was so disappointed about hurting myself and quitting training that I needed something.
So we ran it. I ran the whole race, but not very well. My hamstring hurt throughout, but it's time to be honest with myself. The hamstring was not the reason for my problems. It was because I was in terrible shape. I was, quite frankly, fat -- at least 30-35 lbs overweight by then -- and there's no way I could have run a good race.
I finished in 32:06 (a 10:20 per mile pace). I was OK with it. I guess. I blamed the hamstring for the slow time. But we all know what the reason was now.
You may have heard, but I've lost, like, 40 pounds since April. I weighed in at 188 today (Boom.). What's up 180s? Haven't seen you in a while -- like five or six years, actually. Don't worry, I'm only passing through on my way to the 170s though.
So given my new-found fitness, I'd been looking forward to this year's Kentlands 5K for several weeks. I started looking up the schedule and registration in July, and I was just generally pumped.
Saturday finally arrived. I put on my Underarmour compression shirt, my newly purchased Nike running shorts and I could feel the adrenaline start pumping already. (Side note: it is stunning to me that I feel comfortable enough and, honestly, look almost good enough to pull off running in only an Underarmour shirt. I did NOT see that coming a few months ago. I'll take it!)
I wanted to push myself, so I got in line with the 8-9 min/mile pace group (I ran with the 9-10 min/mile pace group last year, and still couldn't keep up). I'd been running four miles a few times a week for a while now, and I could finish my first mile in just more than 8 minutes, but my pace slowed after that. I knew the adrenaline and race atmosphere was going to help though. I wanted to shave at least a minute off of each mile, so I figured finishing in around 29 minutes would be a good enough improvement for me to feel satisfied.
I started two minutes after the gun time (due to other pace groups starting before mine), and I was off. Maaan let me tell you. Races are something else. VERY easy to get addicted to it. When I hit play on my iPod and "The Distance" by Cake started. Whew. I got the chills. I was fucking pumped. I must have looked like a complete idiot air-drumming while I ran. Suck it.
The Kentlands neighborhood is pretty hilly. I walk Allie through it twice a day, so I'm very familiar with the roads. If I had to guess, I'd say at least a third of the race is uphill, including a lot of mile 3.
When I got to mile 1, the clock said 10:11, so some quick math told me I was doing pretty well on pace. I got some water, almost entirely missed my mouth because I didn't stop running and continued on.
The last third of mile 2, leading up to the clock was uphill. It was tough. I don't remember exactly what the clock said, but I knew I was still on a pretty solid pace. I stopped for five seconds to drink some water. I counted to five and took off again. There was a brief downhill period, but I knew we were coming up to the main street where I walk Allie. It was straight uphill for approximately half a mile.
Andrew W.K.'s "Party Hard" came on right as I hit the bottom of the hill, and I just said, you know what? Fuck it. Let's go. I pushed it. I pushed it like I haven't pushed myself in a long time on a run.
When I got to the top of the hill I thought I was going to throw up. And, strangely, it felt pretty good. Something about getting yourself to a point where your body is like, "please no more," and you say, "fuck you, let's go." I felt it during my half-marathon, and I felt it again for the first time since the half-marathon on Saturday. I want more, man.
The steep uphill climb led into a nice downhill break before the final stretch. I caught my breath as much as I could, and I prepared myself. When I hit the bottom of the hill, I was going to go all out through the finish line. I needed to make 29 minutes.
As I entered the homestretch, "Monkey Wrench" by the Foo Fighters came on, and I punched it up another gear -- well, whatever I had left anyway. I wasn't going to miss my goal because I didn't try hard enough or run hard enough.
I started seeing stars, and I was having trouble breathing by the time I sprinted across the finish line. But I saw 29 right there on the clock. Made my goal. Felt good, man.
Then the fog started to clear from my head, the stars started to dissipate and it hit me. Wait a second, I didn't start until two minutes after the clock started. My official time might be much better than that.
So I waited, and they posted the results. 26:57 (!!!). I broke 27 minutes. Man. LET. US. GO. I love everybody.
I found the official results online over the weekend. I somehow gained a second, but I'll take 26:58. My pace was 8:41. I love it. I'm hooked. I couldn't run ONE solitary mile in 8:41 a few months ago, never mind average 8:41 over more than three miles. I improved on my total time by more than FIVE minutes. I improved on my pace by almost 1:40 per mile. So while the total time may not be impressive to, you know, competitive runners, I think we can all agree that's some ridiculous improvement.
I was talking to my friend Lindsey about my 5K and the half-marathon she was about to run, and I mentioned something about another half-marathon for myself, and she said, "uh oh, you've got the bug." And it's totally true. The more you run, the more you want to run. Running in a real race makes you want to run in more races.
I found a half-marathon in Bermuda in the middle of January. I absolutely need to do it. I feel called to it and compelled to do it. Training would start in about six or seven weeks. It obviously won't be cheap, but if I can find a way to do it, I need it. If it's not that one, it'll just be another one. Maybe in the spring. I need to run another half-marathon now. I feel a competitive fire back in me that I haven't felt in way too long. I am fired up man.
I am in decent shape now. I can handle the training in a way I never could have before. I felt absolutely NO soreness after the 5K. I ran another four miles yesterday, and I'll run four more tomorrow, rain or shine. I can't wait to start training for another half-marathon again.
But mostly, I really can't wait to just get out and run some more.
"Reluctantly crouched at the starting line,
engines pumping and thumping in time."
Man, let's GO.
-BG
I killed my 5K this weekend. Like, blowed it up real good.
A little back story.
Last summer, I thought I wanted to run another half-marathon. Well, I did want to run another one, I just wasn't anywhere close to the shape I needed to be in. At all. I hadn't been running as much as I should have been, and I hadn't been keeping up with my diet, well, at all.
But I'm stubborn. So I took my fat ass (approximately 30 lbs overweight then) and tried to force it.
After two and a half weeks of running, I, predictably, hurt myself. I pulled my hamstring, and it was not good. It was still hurting me back in the spring when I first started playing softball. There was no way I could continue training without hurting myself worse.
The then-girlfriend and I found a 5K right in my neighborhood that was going to take place in early September, and I decided I needed to run it. I was so disappointed about hurting myself and quitting training that I needed something.
So we ran it. I ran the whole race, but not very well. My hamstring hurt throughout, but it's time to be honest with myself. The hamstring was not the reason for my problems. It was because I was in terrible shape. I was, quite frankly, fat -- at least 30-35 lbs overweight by then -- and there's no way I could have run a good race.
I finished in 32:06 (a 10:20 per mile pace). I was OK with it. I guess. I blamed the hamstring for the slow time. But we all know what the reason was now.
You may have heard, but I've lost, like, 40 pounds since April. I weighed in at 188 today (Boom.). What's up 180s? Haven't seen you in a while -- like five or six years, actually. Don't worry, I'm only passing through on my way to the 170s though.
So given my new-found fitness, I'd been looking forward to this year's Kentlands 5K for several weeks. I started looking up the schedule and registration in July, and I was just generally pumped.
Saturday finally arrived. I put on my Underarmour compression shirt, my newly purchased Nike running shorts and I could feel the adrenaline start pumping already. (Side note: it is stunning to me that I feel comfortable enough and, honestly, look almost good enough to pull off running in only an Underarmour shirt. I did NOT see that coming a few months ago. I'll take it!)
I wanted to push myself, so I got in line with the 8-9 min/mile pace group (I ran with the 9-10 min/mile pace group last year, and still couldn't keep up). I'd been running four miles a few times a week for a while now, and I could finish my first mile in just more than 8 minutes, but my pace slowed after that. I knew the adrenaline and race atmosphere was going to help though. I wanted to shave at least a minute off of each mile, so I figured finishing in around 29 minutes would be a good enough improvement for me to feel satisfied.
I started two minutes after the gun time (due to other pace groups starting before mine), and I was off. Maaan let me tell you. Races are something else. VERY easy to get addicted to it. When I hit play on my iPod and "The Distance" by Cake started. Whew. I got the chills. I was fucking pumped. I must have looked like a complete idiot air-drumming while I ran. Suck it.
The Kentlands neighborhood is pretty hilly. I walk Allie through it twice a day, so I'm very familiar with the roads. If I had to guess, I'd say at least a third of the race is uphill, including a lot of mile 3.
When I got to mile 1, the clock said 10:11, so some quick math told me I was doing pretty well on pace. I got some water, almost entirely missed my mouth because I didn't stop running and continued on.
The last third of mile 2, leading up to the clock was uphill. It was tough. I don't remember exactly what the clock said, but I knew I was still on a pretty solid pace. I stopped for five seconds to drink some water. I counted to five and took off again. There was a brief downhill period, but I knew we were coming up to the main street where I walk Allie. It was straight uphill for approximately half a mile.
Andrew W.K.'s "Party Hard" came on right as I hit the bottom of the hill, and I just said, you know what? Fuck it. Let's go. I pushed it. I pushed it like I haven't pushed myself in a long time on a run.
When I got to the top of the hill I thought I was going to throw up. And, strangely, it felt pretty good. Something about getting yourself to a point where your body is like, "please no more," and you say, "fuck you, let's go." I felt it during my half-marathon, and I felt it again for the first time since the half-marathon on Saturday. I want more, man.
The steep uphill climb led into a nice downhill break before the final stretch. I caught my breath as much as I could, and I prepared myself. When I hit the bottom of the hill, I was going to go all out through the finish line. I needed to make 29 minutes.
As I entered the homestretch, "Monkey Wrench" by the Foo Fighters came on, and I punched it up another gear -- well, whatever I had left anyway. I wasn't going to miss my goal because I didn't try hard enough or run hard enough.
I started seeing stars, and I was having trouble breathing by the time I sprinted across the finish line. But I saw 29 right there on the clock. Made my goal. Felt good, man.
Then the fog started to clear from my head, the stars started to dissipate and it hit me. Wait a second, I didn't start until two minutes after the clock started. My official time might be much better than that.
So I waited, and they posted the results. 26:57 (!!!). I broke 27 minutes. Man. LET. US. GO. I love everybody.
I found the official results online over the weekend. I somehow gained a second, but I'll take 26:58. My pace was 8:41. I love it. I'm hooked. I couldn't run ONE solitary mile in 8:41 a few months ago, never mind average 8:41 over more than three miles. I improved on my total time by more than FIVE minutes. I improved on my pace by almost 1:40 per mile. So while the total time may not be impressive to, you know, competitive runners, I think we can all agree that's some ridiculous improvement.
I was talking to my friend Lindsey about my 5K and the half-marathon she was about to run, and I mentioned something about another half-marathon for myself, and she said, "uh oh, you've got the bug." And it's totally true. The more you run, the more you want to run. Running in a real race makes you want to run in more races.
I found a half-marathon in Bermuda in the middle of January. I absolutely need to do it. I feel called to it and compelled to do it. Training would start in about six or seven weeks. It obviously won't be cheap, but if I can find a way to do it, I need it. If it's not that one, it'll just be another one. Maybe in the spring. I need to run another half-marathon now. I feel a competitive fire back in me that I haven't felt in way too long. I am fired up man.
I am in decent shape now. I can handle the training in a way I never could have before. I felt absolutely NO soreness after the 5K. I ran another four miles yesterday, and I'll run four more tomorrow, rain or shine. I can't wait to start training for another half-marathon again.
But mostly, I really can't wait to just get out and run some more.
"Reluctantly crouched at the starting line,
engines pumping and thumping in time."
Man, let's GO.
-BG
Monday, August 29, 2011
Accountability and Affirmation, Baby Part 4
I mentioned this briefly last week, but it warrants repeating: 2011 has been one of the most challenging years I have ever faced.
Almost everything that could go wrong has gone wrong and in spectacular fashion. For the first few months of the year, I let it all get to me. It was awful. I felt awful. I didn't want to do anything. I didn't do anything. Again, awful.
Since then, however! World of difference! The way I have lived since mid-April is the reason I can't really say this is the worst year. It hasn't been THAT bad, really, aside from, you know, one glaring thing. And the job situation.
In the end, I have my health. That's more than a lot of people can say. Not only do I have my health, but I'm healthier and in better shape than at almost any other point in my life. And oh boy have I been working on my health.
So! This morning, after walking Allie but before running my four miles I weighed in at 190. AFTER the run, I weighed in at 188, but running four miles will lead to some water weight loss and not actual weight loss. Still, it's pretty fucking amazing to be within shouting distance of the 180s, which I have not seen in at least five years. Especially considering I was within shouting distance of the 230s just a scant four months ago. *Shudders*
Anyway, I will say I'm officially 190 now. Incredible. I'm only 10 pounds away from the goal I set for myself. I've lost 37 pounds! That's ridiculous!
When I really started to get going with this, my friend Mike told me I'd get down to my goal weight and then not want to stop. He went through a similar weight-loss at one point, and he said he ended up losing another 20 or so pounds after reaching his "goal."
Well, I have to agree. Don't get me wrong: I am super pumped about everything -- the way I feel, the way I look, how great I've been at watching what I eat, how I've been able to keep up with my gym routine. Great success. But I still have eyes. And I can look down and see what's still remaining. I've still got 10 pounds to go before the goal weight, but I might want to go another 10 or 15 below that. We'll see!
So here's my belt. Four months ago (and for a couple months before that), I was regularly using the second-to-last hole on the right (i.e. from needing a bigger fucking belt). Now? I'm on the last hole on the left (i.e. from needing a smaller belt)!!
And I'm going to need a new belt soon! This one is still OK for now, but there's room to spare when it pull it all the way to the last hole. Maybe I'll make my own hole there before I buy a new one. But you know. BOOM. Feels good, man.
You know what else is awesome? I'll tell you. Do you know what an Adonis belt is? Well, you know the muscle lines that begin right at the hips and slant down and inward? I HAS THEM. Well, I have the beginnings of them haha. In my life, I've never seen these on myself before, so this is pretty huge breaking news.
It's when you see visual evidence like that that reminds you why you're doing this -- nothing better. I've talked about it before, but it feels like a shot of adrenaline. It is AFFIRMATION, BABY. You know you're doing something right, and it's worth all the work and discipline. My God is it ever worth it.
One of the regrets I had was I never knew what my body fat percentage was. Well, this weekend I finally bought a scale that also calculates body fat percentage. AND I found a formula online that calculates body fat percentage based on your body mass index (BMI). Well, the website where I track everything, sparkpeople.com, has a handy tool where you enter your height and weight, and it tells you your BMI.
So using the formula, I figured out I had a body fat percentage of approximately 30 percent when I was 227 pounds. Now, I have no way of knowing how accurate that is, but as a ballpark starting point, it'll do. What that means is 30 percent of my body weight was fat. Gross. Man.
After I ran today, I stepped on my scale. Body fat percentage today? 22.5 percent. I've cut 7.5 points off my body fat percentage in four months. The American Council on Exercise has a guide for what a person's body fat percentage should be. For guys, obese is 25 percent and up. Average is 18 to 24 percent. Fitness is 14 to 17 percent.
Obviously, when I started, I was firmly in the obese category. I mean. Yikes, you know? I've moved myself down into the average category now, so that's awesome. Ideally, I'd like to get to 15 or 16 percent. After the past four months, I think I could get down to the athlete category (6 to 13 percent), but that just doesn't seem like much fun. I'm Italian, man. I gotta eat some fun food every now and then.
If I can get to the fitness category, I think that'll do just fine for me. But we'll have to see how it goes, of course. If I get down to 175, 170 or 165, and I'm happy with how I look and feel, then that's cool, too.
So yeah, it gives me another metric to use to track my progress, and I'm thoroughly excited about that.
Also, I've taken to running outside again. I've been sticking to the treadmill for a variety of reasons. But Saturday, when we were getting the outskirts of Hurricane Irene, it was so pleasant outside. A cool breeze and a cool, light rain. It felt so good. It was ideal for running in the rain, which is something I've found I quite enjoy, unless the temperatures are in the mid-50s like for my half-marathon.
And I did. I ran four miles on Saturday evening, and it was the single most enjoyable run I've had in a long time. It just felt so damn good. Also, last year, I ran a 5K in my neighborhood. Like, I could walk to it. Well turns out, that 5K is this coming Saturday. My friend Laura was talking to me about wanting to run in a 5K in her hometown, and it reminded me of this one. So I registered for it!
Now, since I've been running on a treadmill for a few months, I figured I should run outside for a little while just to make sure it's not a shock. I ran four miles on Saturday and four miles today, and I'll run another four miles on Wednesday. Then I'll take a break and just wait for the Saturday-morning race. CAN'T WAIT.
A couple other things:
Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who stops by and takes the time to read, send me messages or post comments. I love each and every one of you for it.
-BG
Almost everything that could go wrong has gone wrong and in spectacular fashion. For the first few months of the year, I let it all get to me. It was awful. I felt awful. I didn't want to do anything. I didn't do anything. Again, awful.
Since then, however! World of difference! The way I have lived since mid-April is the reason I can't really say this is the worst year. It hasn't been THAT bad, really, aside from, you know, one glaring thing. And the job situation.
In the end, I have my health. That's more than a lot of people can say. Not only do I have my health, but I'm healthier and in better shape than at almost any other point in my life. And oh boy have I been working on my health.
So! This morning, after walking Allie but before running my four miles I weighed in at 190. AFTER the run, I weighed in at 188, but running four miles will lead to some water weight loss and not actual weight loss. Still, it's pretty fucking amazing to be within shouting distance of the 180s, which I have not seen in at least five years. Especially considering I was within shouting distance of the 230s just a scant four months ago. *Shudders*
Anyway, I will say I'm officially 190 now. Incredible. I'm only 10 pounds away from the goal I set for myself. I've lost 37 pounds! That's ridiculous!
When I really started to get going with this, my friend Mike told me I'd get down to my goal weight and then not want to stop. He went through a similar weight-loss at one point, and he said he ended up losing another 20 or so pounds after reaching his "goal."
Well, I have to agree. Don't get me wrong: I am super pumped about everything -- the way I feel, the way I look, how great I've been at watching what I eat, how I've been able to keep up with my gym routine. Great success. But I still have eyes. And I can look down and see what's still remaining. I've still got 10 pounds to go before the goal weight, but I might want to go another 10 or 15 below that. We'll see!
So here's my belt. Four months ago (and for a couple months before that), I was regularly using the second-to-last hole on the right (i.e. from needing a bigger fucking belt). Now? I'm on the last hole on the left (i.e. from needing a smaller belt)!!
And I'm going to need a new belt soon! This one is still OK for now, but there's room to spare when it pull it all the way to the last hole. Maybe I'll make my own hole there before I buy a new one. But you know. BOOM. Feels good, man.
You know what else is awesome? I'll tell you. Do you know what an Adonis belt is? Well, you know the muscle lines that begin right at the hips and slant down and inward? I HAS THEM. Well, I have the beginnings of them haha. In my life, I've never seen these on myself before, so this is pretty huge breaking news.
It's when you see visual evidence like that that reminds you why you're doing this -- nothing better. I've talked about it before, but it feels like a shot of adrenaline. It is AFFIRMATION, BABY. You know you're doing something right, and it's worth all the work and discipline. My God is it ever worth it.
One of the regrets I had was I never knew what my body fat percentage was. Well, this weekend I finally bought a scale that also calculates body fat percentage. AND I found a formula online that calculates body fat percentage based on your body mass index (BMI). Well, the website where I track everything, sparkpeople.com, has a handy tool where you enter your height and weight, and it tells you your BMI.
So using the formula, I figured out I had a body fat percentage of approximately 30 percent when I was 227 pounds. Now, I have no way of knowing how accurate that is, but as a ballpark starting point, it'll do. What that means is 30 percent of my body weight was fat. Gross. Man.
After I ran today, I stepped on my scale. Body fat percentage today? 22.5 percent. I've cut 7.5 points off my body fat percentage in four months. The American Council on Exercise has a guide for what a person's body fat percentage should be. For guys, obese is 25 percent and up. Average is 18 to 24 percent. Fitness is 14 to 17 percent.
Obviously, when I started, I was firmly in the obese category. I mean. Yikes, you know? I've moved myself down into the average category now, so that's awesome. Ideally, I'd like to get to 15 or 16 percent. After the past four months, I think I could get down to the athlete category (6 to 13 percent), but that just doesn't seem like much fun. I'm Italian, man. I gotta eat some fun food every now and then.
If I can get to the fitness category, I think that'll do just fine for me. But we'll have to see how it goes, of course. If I get down to 175, 170 or 165, and I'm happy with how I look and feel, then that's cool, too.
So yeah, it gives me another metric to use to track my progress, and I'm thoroughly excited about that.
Also, I've taken to running outside again. I've been sticking to the treadmill for a variety of reasons. But Saturday, when we were getting the outskirts of Hurricane Irene, it was so pleasant outside. A cool breeze and a cool, light rain. It felt so good. It was ideal for running in the rain, which is something I've found I quite enjoy, unless the temperatures are in the mid-50s like for my half-marathon.
And I did. I ran four miles on Saturday evening, and it was the single most enjoyable run I've had in a long time. It just felt so damn good. Also, last year, I ran a 5K in my neighborhood. Like, I could walk to it. Well turns out, that 5K is this coming Saturday. My friend Laura was talking to me about wanting to run in a 5K in her hometown, and it reminded me of this one. So I registered for it!
Now, since I've been running on a treadmill for a few months, I figured I should run outside for a little while just to make sure it's not a shock. I ran four miles on Saturday and four miles today, and I'll run another four miles on Wednesday. Then I'll take a break and just wait for the Saturday-morning race. CAN'T WAIT.
A couple other things:
- I spent much of Sunday downtown with Matty P. We went to lunch at Chipotle and then saw Harry Potter 7-2. Loved the movie, but I'm a big HP fan. At Chipotle, for the first time ever, I could not finish my burrito. I ate two-thirds of it, and I just couldn't do any more. My stomach is shrinking I guess, right? Hell, I'll take it. I do find I just don't feel the need to eat anywhere close to as much as I used to. Who loves it? THIS GUY.
- Sadly, what was once my favorite T-shirt for just hanging around the apartment or running errands has now become rather billowy on me. I'm shrinking, and the shirt is too big now. I'm running into this problem a lot more often lately. #humblebrag
- Tattoo update: If you've stopped by my Facebook wall, you've seen a multitude of friends expressing support for getting the Italian translation of "Let's go!" (Andiamo!) as my next tattoo. I spoke to my friend who is fluent in Italian, and she said the Google Translate version of "Keep calm, and carry on" is technically correct, but because of the phrasing, there's really no way to capture the meaning exactly. See? This is why I asked someone who knows the language. And you know what? I don't hate "Andiamo." My Raleigh friends and I say "let's go" all. the. time. It's an expression of excitement, optimism, glee and just generally feeling really fucking good. And honestly, it's much more my personality than "keep calm, and carry on." Like I said last week, nothing is imminent. Just thinking things through.
Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who stops by and takes the time to read, send me messages or post comments. I love each and every one of you for it.
-BG
Monday, June 27, 2011
Recovery, Accountability and Affirmation, baby
OK look. I'm not going to say I was on a bender. I think a bender requires a certain negative, down-in-the-dumps mental state. I was decidedly the opposite of that the entire time.
This was entirely a celebration of my birthday and of seeing friends and family I haven't seen in a long time and of just generally being young and alive.
But the nine-day period from Friday, June 17 through Saturday, June 25 -- whew. I do believe that's as close as I'll ever come to a bender.
Two ridiculous nights in Savannah (if you missed it, read all about it in my three-part Savannah story: Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.). A night with two old college friends, Tanner and Clark. My birthday with my best friend Jon and his girlfriend, which most decidedly earned a place on the Swanson Pyramid of Greatness. And then a ridiculous Saturday night, partying with one of my newest friends for her birthday (and mine, as she excitedly told almost everyone, leading to many shots [Thanks, Katie haha]). Five nights out of nine were spent drunk. Before last night, I hadn't had more than five or six hours of sleep per night in two weeks. I mean. I didn't even do that in college. It couldn't have been more awesome though.
A quick word about Saturday night before I move on to my fitness update.
Mike is a a friend of Katie's who I met for the first time Saturday night, and he was absolutely raving about this shot combo he loves. You take a shot of Jameson whiskey and chase it with a shot of pickle juice. Yes, you read that right. And yes, it sounds like a nightmare.
It wasn't long before he was tapping Katie and me on the shoulder and holding Jameson and pickle juice. Well then. Here we go. I have to say, it was not nearly as terrible as I thought it was going to be. The pickle juice immediately canceled out the burn of the Jameson. But then I just tasted pickles for a while afterward. Other drinks cleared that up eventually, but you know. Pickles.
Without question, the best part of the night was the dancing. Ask my cousins or my brother. I was just itching to dance the entire weekend in Savannah, but there was never really an outlet for it. The dueling piano bar was promising, but it just didn't work for me.
Saturday night, however. Man. Let's go. They played a solid mix of hip hop and 80s and terrible pop songs, and it just happened.
I know three things:
1. I almost assuredly make a fool out of myself when I'm dancing.
2. When I get a little drunk, I cannot stop myself from dancing.
3. I care not at all that I look a little foolish.
I have to say, it was awesome. They absolutely had me at "Take Me Home Tonight."
The night ended with me falling asleep on the Metro, and eating a double Quarterpounder and fries from McDonald's at 4 a.m. So, like I said, that night closed out a nine-day span that's as close as I'll ever get to a bender.
But it was a fun, happy bender. So there's that.
Now, after spending three days in Savannah and six days in Charlotte, I was expecting my little weight-loss odyssey to hit a speed bump. I ran exactly once -- the day before I went to Savannah. And I most definitely did NOT really keep track of what I was eating. And then, oh yeah, I drank, like, a million drinks.
After Saturday night, I knew nothing of note was going to happen on Sunday. I ran a few errands that needed running after being out of town for 10 days. I walked to Jersey Mike's (great success!), and then I collapsed on the couch for the remainder of the day, only leaving to take the dog on the second of our twice-daily two-mile walks. It was magnificent after so many days in a row of GO GO GO GO GO.
Today was going to be the day I got back to it. I walked the dog, then I went to the gym to run. I was ready for the run to be rough. Like, really rough. Yes, I run on a treadmill. But that's because it's easy on my knees, and I don't like running in the heat. So whatever. I usually just get on and run 30 or 35 minutes on speed 6, which is a 10-minute mile pace. Nothing crazy.
As soon as I started, I could feel it was going to be a good one. I always start off the run with "The Distance" by Cake. I felt completely energized. I was cruising. I pumped it up to 6.5 around the two-mile mark. At 2.5 miles, "Knights of Cydonia" came on. If there weren't other people in the gym, I would have probably yelled in excitement. It has a perfect, driving drum beat. Just exactly what you want to hear when you're running. So great.
I pushed it up to speed 7.5 for the last half mile because of the song, and I was rolling, man. I made it to 31 minutes straight, and then walked a four-minute cool down. I felt so, so great. I was expecting a day where I ran a mile and a half, walked for a few minutes and then ran another mile and a half or so. This blew me away.
I hadn't weighed myself yet because I was afraid to, honestly. If you were keeping track, before I went to Charlotte and Savannah, I'd made it down to 206 from 227. 21 pounds! I fully expected to see a 210 or a 212 or 214 on the scale today.
I got home from my run, stretched and got ready for my shower. I got on the scale. 205.5!!
What the shit!
I'm fully aware I lost a good bit of water weight running on a treadmill for 35 minutes, but that number still means I did not gain any significant weight over the past 10 days. Color me floored.
So that's where I'm at now. It's almost July, so I'll take some more progress pictures with no intention of posting them publicly just yet. My short-term goal is to be less than 200 pounds by the end of July, but I'm just going to keep on working, and we'll see what happens.
For now, I'm happily standing at 205.5, which has contributed greatly to me being happier than I've been in years. I just need to make sure I get out there soon to dance again. And! Softball game soon! Less than two weeks!
Nick, if you were here, I would pound my chest, yell "MAN LET'S GO" and then chest bump you. Goddamn I feel good.
Let us go.
-BG
This was entirely a celebration of my birthday and of seeing friends and family I haven't seen in a long time and of just generally being young and alive.
But the nine-day period from Friday, June 17 through Saturday, June 25 -- whew. I do believe that's as close as I'll ever come to a bender.
Two ridiculous nights in Savannah (if you missed it, read all about it in my three-part Savannah story: Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.). A night with two old college friends, Tanner and Clark. My birthday with my best friend Jon and his girlfriend, which most decidedly earned a place on the Swanson Pyramid of Greatness. And then a ridiculous Saturday night, partying with one of my newest friends for her birthday (and mine, as she excitedly told almost everyone, leading to many shots [Thanks, Katie haha]). Five nights out of nine were spent drunk. Before last night, I hadn't had more than five or six hours of sleep per night in two weeks. I mean. I didn't even do that in college. It couldn't have been more awesome though.
A quick word about Saturday night before I move on to my fitness update.
Mike is a a friend of Katie's who I met for the first time Saturday night, and he was absolutely raving about this shot combo he loves. You take a shot of Jameson whiskey and chase it with a shot of pickle juice. Yes, you read that right. And yes, it sounds like a nightmare.
It wasn't long before he was tapping Katie and me on the shoulder and holding Jameson and pickle juice. Well then. Here we go. I have to say, it was not nearly as terrible as I thought it was going to be. The pickle juice immediately canceled out the burn of the Jameson. But then I just tasted pickles for a while afterward. Other drinks cleared that up eventually, but you know. Pickles.
Without question, the best part of the night was the dancing. Ask my cousins or my brother. I was just itching to dance the entire weekend in Savannah, but there was never really an outlet for it. The dueling piano bar was promising, but it just didn't work for me.
Saturday night, however. Man. Let's go. They played a solid mix of hip hop and 80s and terrible pop songs, and it just happened.
I know three things:
1. I almost assuredly make a fool out of myself when I'm dancing.
2. When I get a little drunk, I cannot stop myself from dancing.
3. I care not at all that I look a little foolish.
I have to say, it was awesome. They absolutely had me at "Take Me Home Tonight."
The night ended with me falling asleep on the Metro, and eating a double Quarterpounder and fries from McDonald's at 4 a.m. So, like I said, that night closed out a nine-day span that's as close as I'll ever get to a bender.
But it was a fun, happy bender. So there's that.
Now, after spending three days in Savannah and six days in Charlotte, I was expecting my little weight-loss odyssey to hit a speed bump. I ran exactly once -- the day before I went to Savannah. And I most definitely did NOT really keep track of what I was eating. And then, oh yeah, I drank, like, a million drinks.
After Saturday night, I knew nothing of note was going to happen on Sunday. I ran a few errands that needed running after being out of town for 10 days. I walked to Jersey Mike's (great success!), and then I collapsed on the couch for the remainder of the day, only leaving to take the dog on the second of our twice-daily two-mile walks. It was magnificent after so many days in a row of GO GO GO GO GO.
Today was going to be the day I got back to it. I walked the dog, then I went to the gym to run. I was ready for the run to be rough. Like, really rough. Yes, I run on a treadmill. But that's because it's easy on my knees, and I don't like running in the heat. So whatever. I usually just get on and run 30 or 35 minutes on speed 6, which is a 10-minute mile pace. Nothing crazy.
As soon as I started, I could feel it was going to be a good one. I always start off the run with "The Distance" by Cake. I felt completely energized. I was cruising. I pumped it up to 6.5 around the two-mile mark. At 2.5 miles, "Knights of Cydonia" came on. If there weren't other people in the gym, I would have probably yelled in excitement. It has a perfect, driving drum beat. Just exactly what you want to hear when you're running. So great.
I pushed it up to speed 7.5 for the last half mile because of the song, and I was rolling, man. I made it to 31 minutes straight, and then walked a four-minute cool down. I felt so, so great. I was expecting a day where I ran a mile and a half, walked for a few minutes and then ran another mile and a half or so. This blew me away.
I hadn't weighed myself yet because I was afraid to, honestly. If you were keeping track, before I went to Charlotte and Savannah, I'd made it down to 206 from 227. 21 pounds! I fully expected to see a 210 or a 212 or 214 on the scale today.
I got home from my run, stretched and got ready for my shower. I got on the scale. 205.5!!
What the shit!
I'm fully aware I lost a good bit of water weight running on a treadmill for 35 minutes, but that number still means I did not gain any significant weight over the past 10 days. Color me floored.
So that's where I'm at now. It's almost July, so I'll take some more progress pictures with no intention of posting them publicly just yet. My short-term goal is to be less than 200 pounds by the end of July, but I'm just going to keep on working, and we'll see what happens.
For now, I'm happily standing at 205.5, which has contributed greatly to me being happier than I've been in years. I just need to make sure I get out there soon to dance again. And! Softball game soon! Less than two weeks!
Nick, if you were here, I would pound my chest, yell "MAN LET'S GO" and then chest bump you. Goddamn I feel good.
Let us go.
-BG
Monday, June 13, 2011
Accountability and Affirmation, Baby!
First the sake of consistency, I'm picking April 17 as the start date for my weight-loss extravaganza.
That was around the day I weighed in at 227 and almost broke my 20-year vomitless streak out of disgust. Since then, I've made wholesale changes in my life -- many of which I outlined a week ago.
Look, it doesn't matter if you're working out if you're not eating right. You'll just completely sabotage yourself. So I've cut out a lot of the bullshit. No more Five Guys; no more Taco Bell; no more Papa John's. I'm allowing myself Chipotle once every two weeks, and I'm allowing Jersey Mike's once a week, if only because I need my sweet tea. But I probably won't go that often anyway.
That's the key, really. If you cut out everything you'll drive yourself crazy. A cheat meal here and there, when combined with a kick-ass day in the gym or as a reward for something is perfectly fine. And from my experience it helps stave off those cheat weeks or cheat months. I'm less likely to stuff myself on pizza if I know I've got a Chipotle burrito coming up.
Otherwise, lots of fruit and vegetables (I must have bought, like, a dozen peaches and plums this week). Chicken breast. Tuna. I've grown fond of the Healthy Choice Cafe Steamers frozen dinners and the Green Giant Veggie Steamers. A relatively cost-effective (and tasty) method for making sure I'm getting enough veggies. Plus, the meals are generally packed with protein.
I could definitely do better. There's always room for improvement. I could eat more fresh vegetables and more fruit. Less cheese (although I'm already eating, like, 1,000 percent less cheese than I did before). But, all in all, compared to how I was eating prior to April 17, I'm very proud of where I am.
As far as physical fitness goes, I've worked my way up to going to the gym six days a week. Three days of running and three days of lifting, plus resting on Sunday. I'm still walking Allie four miles every day though.
I've had to be careful with the running because I hurt my hamstring last year around this time, and it LITERALLY was still bothering me last month when I first started with softball. Knock on wood, I ran three days last week and felt no discomfort for the first time in a long time. Great success.
I had a GREAT week in the gym last week. On Friday, I was able to run three miles straight without stopping or slowing down for the first time since I ran a 5K back in September. And I had another great running day today -- finished all three miles (3.1, to be exact) in just more than 30 minutes.
Yes, it was on the treadmill, but it's been 1,000 degrees outside (today's awesome weather notwithstanding) and the treadmill doesn't make my knees throb for hours afterward. It's better than nothing, and it'll have to do. It may not sound like much, but this is significant progress considering I couldn't finish two miles without stopping for a rest or feeling discomfort just a few weeks ago.
At this point, I'm walking 28 miles per week and running nine miles per week. I figure another week or so of running three miles a day and I'll bump it up to 3.5 or maybe four. Or maybe I'll jump to running four days a week instead of three. We'll have to see how it goes.
Now, because I'd been trying to fake my way through weight-training with 25-pound dumbbells for a couple years, my stats on the weights in the gym are embarrassing, so I will not share them here right now. But we're making progress, and that's what really matters.
Now for the really important part (which, naturally, is at the bottom of the post. Writing 101 fail, folks). How am I looking and feeling?
I'm feeling better than I have since I ran my half-marathon a year and a half ago. I think I look thinner, but I see myself every day so it's hard to tell. I do know I am comfortably wearing shirts I haven't been able to wear in more than a year. And I'm using a belt hole I haven't seen since the half-marathon as well. GREAT success!
I don't have any idea what my body fat percentage is. I need to get something to measure that. But as of right now, no idea. I'll have to check on that this week.
I weighed in this morning at 206 (!), for a loss of 21 (!!) pounds over the past eight weeks. My goal, as I mentioned earlier, is to get to 180 pounds. But weight is just an arbitrary number -- for guys especially. What's more important is how you look, how you feel, how your clothes fit, how strong you are, etc. So if I feel accomplished and happy at 185 or 190 or 170 -- whatever it may be -- I'm fine with that.
So that's where I'm at right now. Back with another post on Wednesday. LET'S GO!
-BG
That was around the day I weighed in at 227 and almost broke my 20-year vomitless streak out of disgust. Since then, I've made wholesale changes in my life -- many of which I outlined a week ago.
Look, it doesn't matter if you're working out if you're not eating right. You'll just completely sabotage yourself. So I've cut out a lot of the bullshit. No more Five Guys; no more Taco Bell; no more Papa John's. I'm allowing myself Chipotle once every two weeks, and I'm allowing Jersey Mike's once a week, if only because I need my sweet tea. But I probably won't go that often anyway.
That's the key, really. If you cut out everything you'll drive yourself crazy. A cheat meal here and there, when combined with a kick-ass day in the gym or as a reward for something is perfectly fine. And from my experience it helps stave off those cheat weeks or cheat months. I'm less likely to stuff myself on pizza if I know I've got a Chipotle burrito coming up.
Otherwise, lots of fruit and vegetables (I must have bought, like, a dozen peaches and plums this week). Chicken breast. Tuna. I've grown fond of the Healthy Choice Cafe Steamers frozen dinners and the Green Giant Veggie Steamers. A relatively cost-effective (and tasty) method for making sure I'm getting enough veggies. Plus, the meals are generally packed with protein.
I could definitely do better. There's always room for improvement. I could eat more fresh vegetables and more fruit. Less cheese (although I'm already eating, like, 1,000 percent less cheese than I did before). But, all in all, compared to how I was eating prior to April 17, I'm very proud of where I am.
As far as physical fitness goes, I've worked my way up to going to the gym six days a week. Three days of running and three days of lifting, plus resting on Sunday. I'm still walking Allie four miles every day though.
I've had to be careful with the running because I hurt my hamstring last year around this time, and it LITERALLY was still bothering me last month when I first started with softball. Knock on wood, I ran three days last week and felt no discomfort for the first time in a long time. Great success.
I had a GREAT week in the gym last week. On Friday, I was able to run three miles straight without stopping or slowing down for the first time since I ran a 5K back in September. And I had another great running day today -- finished all three miles (3.1, to be exact) in just more than 30 minutes.
Yes, it was on the treadmill, but it's been 1,000 degrees outside (today's awesome weather notwithstanding) and the treadmill doesn't make my knees throb for hours afterward. It's better than nothing, and it'll have to do. It may not sound like much, but this is significant progress considering I couldn't finish two miles without stopping for a rest or feeling discomfort just a few weeks ago.
At this point, I'm walking 28 miles per week and running nine miles per week. I figure another week or so of running three miles a day and I'll bump it up to 3.5 or maybe four. Or maybe I'll jump to running four days a week instead of three. We'll have to see how it goes.
Now, because I'd been trying to fake my way through weight-training with 25-pound dumbbells for a couple years, my stats on the weights in the gym are embarrassing, so I will not share them here right now. But we're making progress, and that's what really matters.
Now for the really important part (which, naturally, is at the bottom of the post. Writing 101 fail, folks). How am I looking and feeling?
I'm feeling better than I have since I ran my half-marathon a year and a half ago. I think I look thinner, but I see myself every day so it's hard to tell. I do know I am comfortably wearing shirts I haven't been able to wear in more than a year. And I'm using a belt hole I haven't seen since the half-marathon as well. GREAT success!
I don't have any idea what my body fat percentage is. I need to get something to measure that. But as of right now, no idea. I'll have to check on that this week.
I weighed in this morning at 206 (!), for a loss of 21 (!!) pounds over the past eight weeks. My goal, as I mentioned earlier, is to get to 180 pounds. But weight is just an arbitrary number -- for guys especially. What's more important is how you look, how you feel, how your clothes fit, how strong you are, etc. So if I feel accomplished and happy at 185 or 190 or 170 -- whatever it may be -- I'm fine with that.
So that's where I'm at right now. Back with another post on Wednesday. LET'S GO!
-BG
Monday, November 9, 2009
Sooo I did it.
As you probably know, last weekend I ran my first half-marathon. I started training on Aug. 10, and I worked all the way through the race day on Nov. 1.
The training guide said not to set a time goal for your first race, and that finishing should be enough. Yeah, right. I know me. I set a goal, albeit a modest goal -- two and a half hours. It's not really that fast a time -- it's an 11:30/mile pace. But I didn't want to push myself TOO hard. After all, the most I'd ever run in my life up to that point was about six miles, but I only did that once. Other than that, the most I ever did was three miles.
I woke up at 5 a.m., got to the starting line a little after 7 a.m., and I was off. My official time was 2:19:51, almost 10 minutes better than my goal (or 45 seconds faster per mile). It rained the whole time, and it was cold the whole time...haha. Frankly, it's a miracle I did not get sick. Running in shorts and a T-shirt in temperatures that did not rise above the low 50s and RAIN.
But hey, nothing in the world can compare to the surge and the rush when I turned the corner and saw the downhill road to the finish line. I sprinted the home stretch. Well, it felt like sprinting to me. Actually, I don't know what it felt like. I couldn't feel my legs at that point; I was just forcing them forward.
I stopped for a few seconds at two water stations to drink some water, and I tried to drink a cup of sports drink while running, but I think I ended up just pouring it down my shirt. Otherwise, it was a good race. The course was pretty difficult, I think. Lots of hills, so I'm glad my regular training route included a pretty big-ass hill. I felt prepared for it, and I experienced no pain until later in the day.
For the next few days, I seriously considered going up the stairs on all fours and sliding down the stairs on my ass like we did as kids. I made it though. The pain is gone now.
A former co-worker of mine ran her first half-marathon and marathon recently. She started a blog about it. But the theme of her training was "Pain is temporary; pride is forever." I can tell you right now, I'm addicted to the feeling of crossing the finish line. Three months of training, two-plus hours of running -- it's all worth it to feel the rush of crossing the finish line.
I will run another one. Probably not in the next 12 months, but we'll see how I feel when summer rolls around. I can already feel the change in one way: it feels funny taking the week off from running. I'm actually getting an itch to run. I never imagined that would ever happen.
So either this week or maybe next week, I'll get back out and run three or four miles four or five times a week, just to keep in shape. I feel like this is the best shape I've been in in several years, all thanks to the training -- running four days a week, weight training three days a week and I added 400 crunches per day. Let's just keep it going.
I'm also thinking about doing P90X. My roommate has the DVDs and said he'd allow me to borrow them. It would give me something to do as far as working out goes during the cold months when I probably wouldn't enjoy running around outside. If I do that and it works for me, I'll post some before and after pictures. They're pretty ridiculous, so I hope to have some news to report there. We'll see!
For now, I'm just so incredibly proud of myself for actually sticking to the training for three months and running the whole race. Oh yeah! I ran EVERY STEP of the race, which is significant because I could not complete a training run during the previous three months without walking some. But last week, I didn't stop to walk once. I just kept going. I surprised myself.
So yeah. I'm just really proud of myself for doing this. I never thought I'd ever run ONE half-marathon, and now I'm actually excited to run another one. You better believe I hung up the medal I got for finishing. I wore that thing the whole day afterward.
I'm rambling now. IMAGINE MY SURPRISE. I'll just stop now while I'm ahead. I'm just really happy with myself. :-)
LATER!
-BG
Monday, October 26, 2009
He's racing and pacing and plotting the course
So here's the deal:
I ran 10 miles yesterday. My knees feel like they now lack cartilage, ligaments and tendons, and, instead, are filled with jelly. Don't be alarmed. The same thing happened last week after I ran nine miles. Things returned to normal with a day or two, and I was fine.
The half-marathon is now less than a week away. Incredible. I started training in the beginning of August, and I remember struggling to get through that first three-mile run. Well, not really struggling -- I could definitely complete it. But I walked more than I wanted to, and I took longer that I hoped.
And yesterday I finished 10 miles in 115 minutes. I'm slower than a 10-minute mile pace, but I don't feel too badly about that because on the usual three-mile trails I run, at least a mile of it is straight up hill -- steep hills, too -- which means probably close to 3.5 miles of the 10 I ran on Sunday was all up hill.
So I feel good heading into the race on Sunday. It's my first (and doesn't saying "my first" clearly imply the presence of a "second"? I'm not sure I'm ready to think about this yet, *sigh), and I've read it's not a good idea to set up a strict time goal for your first. With that said, I really want to finish in 2.5 hours. Obviously, I'd love to be faster than that, but let's be realistic. Before this training, the most I'd ever run with any regularity was between two and three miles.
I'm excited though. The past few weeks of long runs really showed me I could actually do it, so that was nice.
This week though, rest. I don't care if the training calls for four-mile, three-mile and two-mile runs this week. NOT GONNA DO IT. Wouldn't be prudent at this juncture.
I'd rather my legs and knees be fresh for Sunday, so I will be doing my usual twice- to three-times-a-week strength training and plenty of stretching and icing -- just in case.
Less than a week to go, and I'm pumped! LET'S GO!
I ran 10 miles yesterday. My knees feel like they now lack cartilage, ligaments and tendons, and, instead, are filled with jelly. Don't be alarmed. The same thing happened last week after I ran nine miles. Things returned to normal with a day or two, and I was fine.
The half-marathon is now less than a week away. Incredible. I started training in the beginning of August, and I remember struggling to get through that first three-mile run. Well, not really struggling -- I could definitely complete it. But I walked more than I wanted to, and I took longer that I hoped.
And yesterday I finished 10 miles in 115 minutes. I'm slower than a 10-minute mile pace, but I don't feel too badly about that because on the usual three-mile trails I run, at least a mile of it is straight up hill -- steep hills, too -- which means probably close to 3.5 miles of the 10 I ran on Sunday was all up hill.
So I feel good heading into the race on Sunday. It's my first (and doesn't saying "my first" clearly imply the presence of a "second"? I'm not sure I'm ready to think about this yet, *sigh), and I've read it's not a good idea to set up a strict time goal for your first. With that said, I really want to finish in 2.5 hours. Obviously, I'd love to be faster than that, but let's be realistic. Before this training, the most I'd ever run with any regularity was between two and three miles.
I'm excited though. The past few weeks of long runs really showed me I could actually do it, so that was nice.
This week though, rest. I don't care if the training calls for four-mile, three-mile and two-mile runs this week. NOT GONNA DO IT. Wouldn't be prudent at this juncture.
I'd rather my legs and knees be fresh for Sunday, so I will be doing my usual twice- to three-times-a-week strength training and plenty of stretching and icing -- just in case.
Less than a week to go, and I'm pumped! LET'S GO!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
A funny thing happened on the way to Webster Street
I've always hated running. Unless it was part of a baseball game or a basketball game when I was younger, I've never been much of a runner.
It's not like I'm in bad shape or anything. For the past few years, I could get out and run three miles without too much trouble. I always felt like that was a good amount, a solid distance for a "non-runner."
Two years ago, Anne ran a half-marathon. She tried for a while to get me to run it with her. Hey, I'd say, I'm not a runner. I'll go sit at the finish line and watch. And I did. She (and two of her friends) successfully ran a half-marathon.
I watched her train, and every weekend a progressively longer long run -- up to 10 miles the weekend before the race. Just the thought of running that much -- blegh. I'd rather kick myself in the stomach than run that much.
Then last year, Anne ran a FULL marathon. 26.2 miles. Yikes. She did it though. Months of training, and she finished on race day.
Now it's this year, and she's going to do the Raleigh half-marathon. So I was thinking about it. She did a full marathon. Surely, I can get my increasingly fatter ass up and train for a half-marathon right? And then I will keep myself from, well, getting increasingly fatter.
And I have been. Training began on August 10. Four days of running, two days of strength training and rest. What I've found is this is different than just waking up in the morning and running. I'm competing against myself now.
I played sports growing up, and if you talk to me for, oh, a few seconds, you'd know I'm a pretty competitive person. Now there's a goal. I get up in the morning and try to run three miles because I have to run four on Sunday. Then I get up and run three and a half because I have to run five miles on Sunday.
I actually look forward to running now, to pushing myself and trying to surpass what I'd been capable of before.
This past Sunday, I ran five miles straight without stopping. Well, OK, I had to stop for crosswalks since I live in a city now. But I didn't walk any of the five-mile distance. I'd never done that before, and completing the five-mile run showed me that, you know what, I really CAN do this.
I mean, I knew I could do it before, but just in that, "hey you can do anything you put your mind to!" way. Now, I actually can do it, because I've done a third of the distance. This is the end of week four of training, which will culminate with another five-mile run on Sunday. Then six miles, then a 5K, then seven miles, eight miles, a 10K, nine miles, 10 miles and race day.
The thought doesn't seem so daunting anymore, and I'm excited to do it. So there you go. I'm not sure I can call myself a "non-runner" anymore. I'm training for a half-marathon.
Who knew?
It's not like I'm in bad shape or anything. For the past few years, I could get out and run three miles without too much trouble. I always felt like that was a good amount, a solid distance for a "non-runner."
Two years ago, Anne ran a half-marathon. She tried for a while to get me to run it with her. Hey, I'd say, I'm not a runner. I'll go sit at the finish line and watch. And I did. She (and two of her friends) successfully ran a half-marathon.
I watched her train, and every weekend a progressively longer long run -- up to 10 miles the weekend before the race. Just the thought of running that much -- blegh. I'd rather kick myself in the stomach than run that much.
Then last year, Anne ran a FULL marathon. 26.2 miles. Yikes. She did it though. Months of training, and she finished on race day.
Now it's this year, and she's going to do the Raleigh half-marathon. So I was thinking about it. She did a full marathon. Surely, I can get my increasingly fatter ass up and train for a half-marathon right? And then I will keep myself from, well, getting increasingly fatter.
And I have been. Training began on August 10. Four days of running, two days of strength training and rest. What I've found is this is different than just waking up in the morning and running. I'm competing against myself now.
I played sports growing up, and if you talk to me for, oh, a few seconds, you'd know I'm a pretty competitive person. Now there's a goal. I get up in the morning and try to run three miles because I have to run four on Sunday. Then I get up and run three and a half because I have to run five miles on Sunday.
I actually look forward to running now, to pushing myself and trying to surpass what I'd been capable of before.
This past Sunday, I ran five miles straight without stopping. Well, OK, I had to stop for crosswalks since I live in a city now. But I didn't walk any of the five-mile distance. I'd never done that before, and completing the five-mile run showed me that, you know what, I really CAN do this.
I mean, I knew I could do it before, but just in that, "hey you can do anything you put your mind to!" way. Now, I actually can do it, because I've done a third of the distance. This is the end of week four of training, which will culminate with another five-mile run on Sunday. Then six miles, then a 5K, then seven miles, eight miles, a 10K, nine miles, 10 miles and race day.
The thought doesn't seem so daunting anymore, and I'm excited to do it. So there you go. I'm not sure I can call myself a "non-runner" anymore. I'm training for a half-marathon.
Who knew?
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