I feel sucky. This running thing sucks. It seems like I'm taking 5000 steps forward and 4999 steps back. I resent it. I curse my sore knees and cramping calves. I lament my tight quads and flabby glutes. I sneer at my weak hips and pronating right foot. I give the side-eye to my dropping hips and disengaged core.
Everything hurts. Stretching hurts, cross-training hurts, chiro hurts, and running hurts - again. I know, I know. No pain, no gain. Blah, blah, blah. But I was hoping that some part of this would be fun.
And I'm really, really annoyed at all the time and money this is taking up.
This is definitely the muck in the middle. I'm trying really hard to trust the process but I'm not enjoying it right now. Maybe because I'm on my own at the moment. I'm not part of any running clinic so I'm just doing my runs myself, doing my training myself. But I don't want to hold anyone else back. My ego is definitely asserting itself.
I can totally picture myself running the marathon which is reassuring. I can visualize me running down the country road, winding through little French villages, sampling some vino along the way. I can see it. But I'm having trouble getting there.
And last night my roommate's cat bit me. Harrumph.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Monday, April 5, 2010
ROCD - Yeah, You Know Me!
For me to actually get out there and run, everything has to be just so. I think I have ROCD: Running Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Here is my checklist:
* Weather no colder than minus 20, no hotter than plus 20 (In my defense, I will go to the gym if the weather isn't cooperating)
* Socks can be no higher or lower than just above ankle bone. Lower and the sock slips over my heel and bunches up in my shoe; higher and it just looks dumb.
* Running pants have to have a drawstring so they don't slide down
* Running shirt has to cover midsection. I'm easygoing on T versus tank but I will not wear a singlet because I that word irritates me.
* If it's a tank, it can't be one of those that zips up on the side because the zipper chafes against my arm and it adds bulk.
* Jacket has to be zipped to the middle of my chest. Higher and it scratches my chin, lower and the wind gets in. And if it's too low the collar flaps around and hits my chin.
* Must have sunglasses, even if it's overcast
* Ears must be plugged in some fashion, usually with a headband. I HATE wind in my ears; legitimately, because it gives me earaches.
* Must have lip stuff of some kind on; sometimes I'll put it on my cheeks if it's windy.
* Hair. Hair is the biggest thing. Hair absolutely must not be in my face - ever. My headband does double-duty in the winter. The headband is challenging, though, because it pushes my bangs up and then when I take then headband off they stick straight up and I look like a fool. In the summer it's elastics and clips. If a strand dares to venture near my face I will rip it out so I use 2-3 elastics and A LOT of clips. It looks like I'm trying to keep something IN (like my dignity?) rather than keep something attached. And I can't wear a basic ponytail, it has to be more of a knot. A ponytail swings too much.
* Unless it's below minus 15, NO HAT.
It's funny to me because I'm pretty laid back most of the time. Other than, inexplicably, the colour of my toenails, I'm not overly fussy about how I look (when you have freckles, you get used to a bit of chaos in your appearance). I'm an outdoorsy, granola-girl at heart. I feel happiest being outside, in grubby clothes, mucking around in a garden or tromping through some woods. I'm not a crazy housekeeper either - and you should see my desk at work...yikes....
So what's with this fixation with what I'm wearing when I'm running? Really, with all my gear on nobody knows who I am and no one cares how I look. Comfort is important for sure. When you're running long distances the rest of your body feels so uncomfortable that being comfortable in what you're wearing can keep you from going over the edge. You would think I'd want the distraction, though.
Or maybe it's about control? If all of these details are taken care of then maybe I'm more likely to succeed at the actual running. Hard to tell if it's actually working, though I've had 5 pain-free runs now!!! Maybe that should be my strategy going forward. Like other athletes have rituals before they play so they do well, my weird dressing routine can me mine. Can't hurt!
I got back up to 10km yesterday!!!!
* Weather no colder than minus 20, no hotter than plus 20 (In my defense, I will go to the gym if the weather isn't cooperating)
* Socks can be no higher or lower than just above ankle bone. Lower and the sock slips over my heel and bunches up in my shoe; higher and it just looks dumb.
* Running pants have to have a drawstring so they don't slide down
* Running shirt has to cover midsection. I'm easygoing on T versus tank but I will not wear a singlet because I that word irritates me.
* If it's a tank, it can't be one of those that zips up on the side because the zipper chafes against my arm and it adds bulk.
* Jacket has to be zipped to the middle of my chest. Higher and it scratches my chin, lower and the wind gets in. And if it's too low the collar flaps around and hits my chin.
* Must have sunglasses, even if it's overcast
* Ears must be plugged in some fashion, usually with a headband. I HATE wind in my ears; legitimately, because it gives me earaches.
* Must have lip stuff of some kind on; sometimes I'll put it on my cheeks if it's windy.
* Hair. Hair is the biggest thing. Hair absolutely must not be in my face - ever. My headband does double-duty in the winter. The headband is challenging, though, because it pushes my bangs up and then when I take then headband off they stick straight up and I look like a fool. In the summer it's elastics and clips. If a strand dares to venture near my face I will rip it out so I use 2-3 elastics and A LOT of clips. It looks like I'm trying to keep something IN (like my dignity?) rather than keep something attached. And I can't wear a basic ponytail, it has to be more of a knot. A ponytail swings too much.
* Unless it's below minus 15, NO HAT.
It's funny to me because I'm pretty laid back most of the time. Other than, inexplicably, the colour of my toenails, I'm not overly fussy about how I look (when you have freckles, you get used to a bit of chaos in your appearance). I'm an outdoorsy, granola-girl at heart. I feel happiest being outside, in grubby clothes, mucking around in a garden or tromping through some woods. I'm not a crazy housekeeper either - and you should see my desk at work...yikes....
So what's with this fixation with what I'm wearing when I'm running? Really, with all my gear on nobody knows who I am and no one cares how I look. Comfort is important for sure. When you're running long distances the rest of your body feels so uncomfortable that being comfortable in what you're wearing can keep you from going over the edge. You would think I'd want the distraction, though.
Or maybe it's about control? If all of these details are taken care of then maybe I'm more likely to succeed at the actual running. Hard to tell if it's actually working, though I've had 5 pain-free runs now!!! Maybe that should be my strategy going forward. Like other athletes have rituals before they play so they do well, my weird dressing routine can me mine. Can't hurt!
I got back up to 10km yesterday!!!!
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Metal Bar of Death
Last post, I neglected to talk about a key component of the runner's therapeutic process: The Graston Technique. Or, as I like to call it, @#$%^&* &^%%.
Scar tissue is bad. Scar tissue causes all kinds of problems. At some point, someone figured it was a good idea to take a metal bar and rub it back and forth over a muscle to break up said scar tissue. There are different sizes of bars for different muscles. Some have a greater weight to them. Some are pointy so they can get at the smaller muscles hiding behind the bigger ones. Some are curved and bent to get around some of the bigger muscles and bones. There is something very medieval about it all.
And Holy Dinah it hurts. But it leaves much more impressive bruises than ART, at least on my sickly, pale, Canadian, red-headed skin. I feel like I have something to show for all this pain. Battle scars, if you will.
Here's a link to a site which describes it with visuals: http://www.grastontechnique.com/SlideShowHowGTWorks.html. I also included a recent visual in my profile pic. This is my right IT band 24 hours after my chiro got after it. He barely touched my leg with the bar. Nice work, Tony!
PS: I ran 8km yesterday which is my best distance since my body fell apart!
Scar tissue is bad. Scar tissue causes all kinds of problems. At some point, someone figured it was a good idea to take a metal bar and rub it back and forth over a muscle to break up said scar tissue. There are different sizes of bars for different muscles. Some have a greater weight to them. Some are pointy so they can get at the smaller muscles hiding behind the bigger ones. Some are curved and bent to get around some of the bigger muscles and bones. There is something very medieval about it all.
And Holy Dinah it hurts. But it leaves much more impressive bruises than ART, at least on my sickly, pale, Canadian, red-headed skin. I feel like I have something to show for all this pain. Battle scars, if you will.
Here's a link to a site which describes it with visuals: http://www.grastontechnique.com/SlideShowHowGTWorks.html. I also included a recent visual in my profile pic. This is my right IT band 24 hours after my chiro got after it. He barely touched my leg with the bar. Nice work, Tony!
PS: I ran 8km yesterday which is my best distance since my body fell apart!
Saturday, February 27, 2010
What Seems To Be the Problem?
Well, many of you may think that I should have gone years ago but I've finally done it, I'm in therapy.
I've got a couple of busted knees and haven't been able to really run since my 22k three weeks ago. Normally I would have just said, "Thank gawd. Now I can go back to eating and watching 'Friends' re-runs". But I'm committed. There's money down. I'm racking up the air miles. I have to push through it.
So I've sought help. Namely an Athletic Therapist (for making me exercise even more??) and a chiropractor for Active Release Therapy (for punishment??). The Athletic Therapist did an initial assessment and discovered all sorts of quirky problems. Based on her description – one hip higher than the other, one shoulder higher than the other, one arm more raised than the other, knees turning inward, one calf fatter than the other, one butt cheek flabbier than the other – I have this vision of myself as looking like some kind of Dickens villain.
Simultaneously, I’m having my body beaten into submission with ART. My chiro told me to book 30 minute sessions (as opposed to 15) because of the amount of work required. And because I need long breaks. Basically, he takes his thumb, puts it right on the muscle, and proceeds to throw his whole body weight into it as I flex. SO PAINFUL. We’ve set ground rules that he can’t hurt me on purpose and I can’t kick him. Not surprisingly, I have bruises everywhere and I’m getting worried looks in the locker room at the gym.
Like in other therapeutic situations, the origin of the problem is never what is initially presented. You think you've got issues with your sister when it's really about when you got lost in the shopping mall when you were five. Same thing with the knees. They're hurting me but it turns out the problems are all in my hips and butt. Not all that surprising since I've had a tumultuous relationship with these body parts for years. Apparently, ample does not equal strong, and strong makes all the difference.
The body is so interconnected, working synergistically to make it all happen. Our muscles in particular. And when one part slacks off it affects everything else. My body has a classic therapeutic situation going on: dysfunctional family. My butt and hips are the third child, knees the eldest, and my quads and hamstrings are the long-suffering middle children. My brain as the parent is letting the baby of the family - my butt - off the hook. It doesn't have to do any work, it gets to sit around and do nothing. My bossy, first-child knees are not happy and are making it known. And my quads and hamstrings are just trying to keep it all together, keep everyone happy.
So the therapy is trying to change the dynamic. It's training my brain to step it up and parent my butt and hips. Not nag, just firmly tell them to start chipping in more. In the meantime, it's coaching my quads and hamstrings to take a break, spend some time on themselves and not worry about everyone else so much. It's not their job to make everything work right. And my knees...well, they probably won't stop being bossy and voicing their opinion. But hopefully we can work it so they'll only pipe up when it really matters.
I've still got some months before the marathon so that should give me enough time to get things sorted out. The dysfunction makes me a little nervous, though. On a day-to-day basis it should be manageable but a marathon is like a family road trip. It's close quarters, for an extended period of time, people get hungry and irritable, lots of stops for the bathroom. All the idiosyncrasies could come out and old patterns emerge.
Fingers crossed.
I've got a couple of busted knees and haven't been able to really run since my 22k three weeks ago. Normally I would have just said, "Thank gawd. Now I can go back to eating and watching 'Friends' re-runs". But I'm committed. There's money down. I'm racking up the air miles. I have to push through it.
So I've sought help. Namely an Athletic Therapist (for making me exercise even more??) and a chiropractor for Active Release Therapy (for punishment??). The Athletic Therapist did an initial assessment and discovered all sorts of quirky problems. Based on her description – one hip higher than the other, one shoulder higher than the other, one arm more raised than the other, knees turning inward, one calf fatter than the other, one butt cheek flabbier than the other – I have this vision of myself as looking like some kind of Dickens villain.
Simultaneously, I’m having my body beaten into submission with ART. My chiro told me to book 30 minute sessions (as opposed to 15) because of the amount of work required. And because I need long breaks. Basically, he takes his thumb, puts it right on the muscle, and proceeds to throw his whole body weight into it as I flex. SO PAINFUL. We’ve set ground rules that he can’t hurt me on purpose and I can’t kick him. Not surprisingly, I have bruises everywhere and I’m getting worried looks in the locker room at the gym.
Like in other therapeutic situations, the origin of the problem is never what is initially presented. You think you've got issues with your sister when it's really about when you got lost in the shopping mall when you were five. Same thing with the knees. They're hurting me but it turns out the problems are all in my hips and butt. Not all that surprising since I've had a tumultuous relationship with these body parts for years. Apparently, ample does not equal strong, and strong makes all the difference.
The body is so interconnected, working synergistically to make it all happen. Our muscles in particular. And when one part slacks off it affects everything else. My body has a classic therapeutic situation going on: dysfunctional family. My butt and hips are the third child, knees the eldest, and my quads and hamstrings are the long-suffering middle children. My brain as the parent is letting the baby of the family - my butt - off the hook. It doesn't have to do any work, it gets to sit around and do nothing. My bossy, first-child knees are not happy and are making it known. And my quads and hamstrings are just trying to keep it all together, keep everyone happy.
So the therapy is trying to change the dynamic. It's training my brain to step it up and parent my butt and hips. Not nag, just firmly tell them to start chipping in more. In the meantime, it's coaching my quads and hamstrings to take a break, spend some time on themselves and not worry about everyone else so much. It's not their job to make everything work right. And my knees...well, they probably won't stop being bossy and voicing their opinion. But hopefully we can work it so they'll only pipe up when it really matters.
I've still got some months before the marathon so that should give me enough time to get things sorted out. The dysfunction makes me a little nervous, though. On a day-to-day basis it should be manageable but a marathon is like a family road trip. It's close quarters, for an extended period of time, people get hungry and irritable, lots of stops for the bathroom. All the idiosyncrasies could come out and old patterns emerge.
Fingers crossed.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Cha-ching
When it comes to fitness, I'm great at starting things; not so great at the follow-through. Which usually means I expend a lot of capital with little to show for it. I've bought several gym memberships in my life and I'm diligent at going the first few weeks. And then it tapers off. I've bought velcro weights to wrap around my ankles so I get toned merely by walking between the couch and the refrigerator. I have no idea where those weights are and I developed cankles. I've been on several packaged cleanses - a quick fix where two weeks after I've tasted the last bit of the tincture, I'm full to the brim with toxins again.
The point is I've spent a lot of money to get fit, with little to show for it. So when I took up running it was because I needed a cardio activity and I figured that all I needed was a good pair of shoes and I was set.
I was soooooooo wrong. In fundraising we say you have to spend money to make money. In running I apparently have to spend the dimes to make my times. I know I'm doing it for charity but I could soon be a charity case myself.
Here's the list (to date) of what I've had to spend my hard-earned cash on:
Four running clinics
Two pairs of shoes
2 summer pairs of running pants
1 winter pair of running pants
1 winter pair of running pants with wind panels
9 pairs of running socks
4 long-sleeved technical shirts
2 short-sleeved technical shirts
2 technical tank tops
2 sports bras
2 toques
1 neck warmer
1 headband
1 running jacket
1 pair of mitts
1 pair of gloves
1 water bottle holder
1 jar of stuff for my skin to protect it from the wind
1 gym bag
20 drop-in gym passes
1 book on running marathons
1 ice pack
10 clips to keep my @#$%^&* hair out of my face
5 Active Release Therapy sessions
1 Athletic Therapy assessment
Many power bars and other post-run snacks
Many electrolyte replacement chews
You'll notice a theme. I think if I lived in Hawaii running would be an economical form of fitness (and I'd probably want to do it a whole lot more). Not so in Calgary. Winter adds a whole other layer (or five if you're smart). I've been trying to be frugal but I acknowledge in doing so, I'm taking my life into my hands. I've acquiesced to the layering and special pants and fabrics created by NASA that would let you survive in the sub-arctic as well as repel bullets, but I can't quite seem to bring myself to buy the strap-on spikey shoe thingys that enable one to run on the curling sheets known as Calgary's streets and sidewalks in the winter.
It's kind of bizarre that in this day and age an activity that the vast majority of us are able to do merely because we're homo sapiens comes with such a high price tag. I've been trying to figure out if I'm spending all this money because I must or because I feel I should. True, I did need more protection for my legs from the achingly cold wind that we're blessed with here. But I suppose I could have thrown on my cheapy biking shorts (that I got at a trade show for getting a four-year gym membership ......that I used for two months.....) rather than buying those NorthFace pants that, for what I paid for them, should also be able to shave my legs, give my car an oil change, and do my taxes.
Is it because we humans like our toys? Am I buying all this stuff so I can feel like I fit in better? Or am I just succumbing to the rabid consumer in me that I self-righteously deny most other times (except at consignment stores)? I can try and justify each expense (Winter: the Calgarian's Scapegoat) but there's definitely more at work here.
If I was running purely for fitness I know I wouldn't have spent as much. So I think a big part for me is that running a marathon scares the crap out of me and I want to be so completely and absolutely prepared that I can't fail in any way. These expenditures are insurance.
Which leads me to wonder if much of the other stuff I spend my money on is some form of insurance as well. Against what requires far more navel-gazing than I'm prepared to go into on a Sunday morning but it's worth a look one of these days. Gotta be more in there than lint :-)
The point is I've spent a lot of money to get fit, with little to show for it. So when I took up running it was because I needed a cardio activity and I figured that all I needed was a good pair of shoes and I was set.
I was soooooooo wrong. In fundraising we say you have to spend money to make money. In running I apparently have to spend the dimes to make my times. I know I'm doing it for charity but I could soon be a charity case myself.
Here's the list (to date) of what I've had to spend my hard-earned cash on:
Four running clinics
Two pairs of shoes
2 summer pairs of running pants
1 winter pair of running pants
1 winter pair of running pants with wind panels
9 pairs of running socks
4 long-sleeved technical shirts
2 short-sleeved technical shirts
2 technical tank tops
2 sports bras
2 toques
1 neck warmer
1 headband
1 running jacket
1 pair of mitts
1 pair of gloves
1 water bottle holder
1 jar of stuff for my skin to protect it from the wind
1 gym bag
20 drop-in gym passes
1 book on running marathons
1 ice pack
10 clips to keep my @#$%^&* hair out of my face
5 Active Release Therapy sessions
1 Athletic Therapy assessment
Many power bars and other post-run snacks
Many electrolyte replacement chews
You'll notice a theme. I think if I lived in Hawaii running would be an economical form of fitness (and I'd probably want to do it a whole lot more). Not so in Calgary. Winter adds a whole other layer (or five if you're smart). I've been trying to be frugal but I acknowledge in doing so, I'm taking my life into my hands. I've acquiesced to the layering and special pants and fabrics created by NASA that would let you survive in the sub-arctic as well as repel bullets, but I can't quite seem to bring myself to buy the strap-on spikey shoe thingys that enable one to run on the curling sheets known as Calgary's streets and sidewalks in the winter.
It's kind of bizarre that in this day and age an activity that the vast majority of us are able to do merely because we're homo sapiens comes with such a high price tag. I've been trying to figure out if I'm spending all this money because I must or because I feel I should. True, I did need more protection for my legs from the achingly cold wind that we're blessed with here. But I suppose I could have thrown on my cheapy biking shorts (that I got at a trade show for getting a four-year gym membership ......that I used for two months.....) rather than buying those NorthFace pants that, for what I paid for them, should also be able to shave my legs, give my car an oil change, and do my taxes.
Is it because we humans like our toys? Am I buying all this stuff so I can feel like I fit in better? Or am I just succumbing to the rabid consumer in me that I self-righteously deny most other times (except at consignment stores)? I can try and justify each expense (Winter: the Calgarian's Scapegoat) but there's definitely more at work here.
If I was running purely for fitness I know I wouldn't have spent as much. So I think a big part for me is that running a marathon scares the crap out of me and I want to be so completely and absolutely prepared that I can't fail in any way. These expenditures are insurance.
Which leads me to wonder if much of the other stuff I spend my money on is some form of insurance as well. Against what requires far more navel-gazing than I'm prepared to go into on a Sunday morning but it's worth a look one of these days. Gotta be more in there than lint :-)
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Whip It Good
There's a reason for the saying, "Whip you into shape". This exercise thing takes discipline!
The United States Marine Corps states that "Discipline is the instant willingness and obedience to all orders, respect for authority, self reliance and teamwork. The ability to do the right thing even when no one is watching or suffer the consequences of guilt which produces pain in our bodies, through pain comes discipline."
You got that right. Why would we choose that???
Discipline is all about choices, though. Saying no to some and yes to others. Or saying yes and feeling no. Or saying no and knowing you should say yes. Life is about this, too. Hmmm, running as metaphor again.
How is it remotely possible to have any kind of discipline and make good choices during Christmas? I was doing reasonably well before the holidays but when you have a plate of perogies (with fried onions, butter, and sour cream, natch) in front of you it's HARD to stick to the right diet. And when there are Hugh Grant movie marathons every second day it's a CHALLENGE to get your butt out the door and on to the running path. And when you finally have time to read trashy gossip rags it's IMPOSSIBLE to write a literate blog.
How is discipline different from commitment or routine? Can you be committed to something but have no discipline (which seems to be where I'm at)? Is keeping a routine a discipline? I like routine in some aspects of my life, like flossing just before bed. If I don't build some activities into a routine they don't get done. I don't know how to make running routine yet, though. There's a lot involved in it. Clothes and water and nutritional supplements. Having something to eat right after a run. Not planning anything afterward because you know you’re going to have brutal, sweaty headband hair.
I think I could be disciplined about it if I had less things going on in my life. An ongoing challenge for me. I'm being punished for my lack of discipline, though (and for a few deadly holiday sins). My knee hurts again. Triggered by a 16km run (ahem). Which just tells me I'm not training enough. I'm doing the bare minimum and it's not paying off.
Disciple and discipline are obviously connected. A disciple is “a follower and student of a mentor, teacher, or other wise figure”. Maybe that's my problem! I need a wise figure! There is some guy named John Stanton, founder of some Running Room thing. Wrote some books. I could try him. Or Forrest Gump. "That day, for no particular reason, I decided to go for a little run."
There is little logic to this whole running thing. Maybe I have to stop looking for it and just do it. Maybe that’s the discipline I need to progress.
And maybe I just need to keep this in mind: "And when I got there, I figured, since I'd gone this far, I might as well turn around, just keep on going.”
# of km this week = 0!!!!! (The knee. But I did try the Elliptical for the first time)
# of hills = 0 (just the stairs up to the TV room)
# of meals today = 56
# of days until my half marathon race = 39!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
To check out L'Arche, go to www.larchecalgary.org
To check out the marathon, go to www.marathondumedoc.com
To donate to my efforts, go to www.canadahelps.org/gp/5210
The United States Marine Corps states that "Discipline is the instant willingness and obedience to all orders, respect for authority, self reliance and teamwork. The ability to do the right thing even when no one is watching or suffer the consequences of guilt which produces pain in our bodies, through pain comes discipline."
You got that right. Why would we choose that???
Discipline is all about choices, though. Saying no to some and yes to others. Or saying yes and feeling no. Or saying no and knowing you should say yes. Life is about this, too. Hmmm, running as metaphor again.
How is it remotely possible to have any kind of discipline and make good choices during Christmas? I was doing reasonably well before the holidays but when you have a plate of perogies (with fried onions, butter, and sour cream, natch) in front of you it's HARD to stick to the right diet. And when there are Hugh Grant movie marathons every second day it's a CHALLENGE to get your butt out the door and on to the running path. And when you finally have time to read trashy gossip rags it's IMPOSSIBLE to write a literate blog.
How is discipline different from commitment or routine? Can you be committed to something but have no discipline (which seems to be where I'm at)? Is keeping a routine a discipline? I like routine in some aspects of my life, like flossing just before bed. If I don't build some activities into a routine they don't get done. I don't know how to make running routine yet, though. There's a lot involved in it. Clothes and water and nutritional supplements. Having something to eat right after a run. Not planning anything afterward because you know you’re going to have brutal, sweaty headband hair.
I think I could be disciplined about it if I had less things going on in my life. An ongoing challenge for me. I'm being punished for my lack of discipline, though (and for a few deadly holiday sins). My knee hurts again. Triggered by a 16km run (ahem). Which just tells me I'm not training enough. I'm doing the bare minimum and it's not paying off.
Disciple and discipline are obviously connected. A disciple is “a follower and student of a mentor, teacher, or other wise figure”. Maybe that's my problem! I need a wise figure! There is some guy named John Stanton, founder of some Running Room thing. Wrote some books. I could try him. Or Forrest Gump. "That day, for no particular reason, I decided to go for a little run."
There is little logic to this whole running thing. Maybe I have to stop looking for it and just do it. Maybe that’s the discipline I need to progress.
And maybe I just need to keep this in mind: "And when I got there, I figured, since I'd gone this far, I might as well turn around, just keep on going.”
# of km this week = 0!!!!! (The knee. But I did try the Elliptical for the first time)
# of hills = 0 (just the stairs up to the TV room)
# of meals today = 56
# of days until my half marathon race = 39!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
To check out L'Arche, go to www.larchecalgary.org
To check out the marathon, go to www.marathondumedoc.com
To donate to my efforts, go to www.canadahelps.org/gp/5210
Thursday, December 3, 2009
In Peace
If a man does not keep pace with his companions,
perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer.
Let him step to the music he hears,
however measured or far away.
Henry David Thoreau
I’m in the half-marathon clinic now and pacing plays a big role. I only vaguely understand what it is but I can tell you it’s important. I now have a number. Nobody knows my name but by golly, I have a number. This number measures how fast I go at a speed that’s not a crawl nor an escape and I THINK measures how fast I can finish 10kms. Or is it how fast I can run consistently through each kilometre? Anyway, we’re all divided into groups based on this pace when we run together.
I sort of feel like I belong to this group. I'm not sure why I don't fully. Maybe because I'm generally not a group girl. In school I usually floated between the cliques and these days, though I have lots of friends, I'm usually interacting one on one. Except for my book club, but there's generally a fair bit of sugar and sometimes alcohol to help me along.
When we run, our footsteps can all be in unison the whole time; a very cool effect that propels me along quite nicely. I actually feel like a real runner then, somehow. I start to feel part of the group and it feels pretty good. Sometimes, though, it's a real struggle for me to keep up and I start thinking something's wrong with me; my technique is off or my cellulite is just not aerodynamic.
The whole experience makes me think of L'Arche, of the experience of people with developmental disabilities in our society. I'm sure you can figure out the race metaphor in relation to our culture (god, I love a good metaphor). The idea of keeping pace, having to keep pace, not falling behind, stepping up to the start line to being with. In a race, you are either keeping pace or pushing ahead of the group. They may tell you that you should run your own race, not compare yourself to others, but it's tough in a crowd. And no one wants to be last.
For people with developmental disabilities in our culture, getting to the start line can be a lifelong challenge, let alone running alongside or finishing. It makes me wonder where we're all running to, really. What do we hope for at the other end? If it's happiness and acceptance and belonging then why do some people get left behind or not allowed in the race at all?
I read Thoreau's quote years ago and it's stayed with me. I suppose we all march to the beat of our own drummer, but people with disabilities even more so. In L'Arche this is a celebration, stemming from the belief that each of is of unique and sacred value and has gifts to offer the world. People with developmental disabilities can't keep pace with the rest of us in the race that we're running. Their journey is one of spontanaeity and presence and openness and heart, not competition.
What a gift that is, really. I wish our society could do a better job of seeing this. I wish more of us would choose that path and, instead, keep pace with people with disabilities rather than the reverse. What would our lives and journies be like then?
By the way, Pace in latin means 'in peace'. Nice.
Good websites:
http://www.larchecalgary.org/
http://www.maqrathondumedoc.com/
www.canadahelps.org/GP/5210
perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer.
Let him step to the music he hears,
however measured or far away.
Henry David Thoreau
I’m in the half-marathon clinic now and pacing plays a big role. I only vaguely understand what it is but I can tell you it’s important. I now have a number. Nobody knows my name but by golly, I have a number. This number measures how fast I go at a speed that’s not a crawl nor an escape and I THINK measures how fast I can finish 10kms. Or is it how fast I can run consistently through each kilometre? Anyway, we’re all divided into groups based on this pace when we run together.
I sort of feel like I belong to this group. I'm not sure why I don't fully. Maybe because I'm generally not a group girl. In school I usually floated between the cliques and these days, though I have lots of friends, I'm usually interacting one on one. Except for my book club, but there's generally a fair bit of sugar and sometimes alcohol to help me along.
When we run, our footsteps can all be in unison the whole time; a very cool effect that propels me along quite nicely. I actually feel like a real runner then, somehow. I start to feel part of the group and it feels pretty good. Sometimes, though, it's a real struggle for me to keep up and I start thinking something's wrong with me; my technique is off or my cellulite is just not aerodynamic.
The whole experience makes me think of L'Arche, of the experience of people with developmental disabilities in our society. I'm sure you can figure out the race metaphor in relation to our culture (god, I love a good metaphor). The idea of keeping pace, having to keep pace, not falling behind, stepping up to the start line to being with. In a race, you are either keeping pace or pushing ahead of the group. They may tell you that you should run your own race, not compare yourself to others, but it's tough in a crowd. And no one wants to be last.
For people with developmental disabilities in our culture, getting to the start line can be a lifelong challenge, let alone running alongside or finishing. It makes me wonder where we're all running to, really. What do we hope for at the other end? If it's happiness and acceptance and belonging then why do some people get left behind or not allowed in the race at all?
I read Thoreau's quote years ago and it's stayed with me. I suppose we all march to the beat of our own drummer, but people with disabilities even more so. In L'Arche this is a celebration, stemming from the belief that each of is of unique and sacred value and has gifts to offer the world. People with developmental disabilities can't keep pace with the rest of us in the race that we're running. Their journey is one of spontanaeity and presence and openness and heart, not competition.
What a gift that is, really. I wish our society could do a better job of seeing this. I wish more of us would choose that path and, instead, keep pace with people with disabilities rather than the reverse. What would our lives and journies be like then?
By the way, Pace in latin means 'in peace'. Nice.
Good websites:
http://www.larchecalgary.org/
http://www.maqrathondumedoc.com/
www.canadahelps.org/GP/5210
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