Can't we all just get along?

Ever get frustrated by an over-crowded gym at the beginning of January?

Image source

My, haven't we all!
But... maybe we shouldn't.


Resolutionists

In the post Attack of the resolutionists, Fat Slow Triathlete targets the angst that many of us feel as the typical January influx of newbies overrun "our" gym (only to disappear by February 1).

FST then turns the situation on its head:

So here's the thing ... try to swallow your irritation... our intent is to ensure that people seek out fitness no matter their perceived obstacles. The sad truth is that some of us have become the obstacles. By making people feel uncomfortable, or out of place, we chase these newbies out of "our gyms" or aways from "our parks". These people take shelter back into their comfort zones; their homes, their TV's, their foods. Not to be seen again until January of the next year.

It's important that everyone exercise regularly, because new research shows that the brain benefits of exercise begin to wear off after a period of inactivity.

Maybe by reaching out to that lost-looking newbie we can encourage another budding athlete?

Image source

Oversharing?

Continuing the "who is annoying who?" theme... Last month Gina Kolata of the New York Times asked why runners inspire extreme resentment in others. Our talk of training plans and our 13.1 and 26.2 bumper stickers apparently elicit eye rolls from the non-runners among us.

Maybe I'm too deeply entrenched in my love of running to notice when other people cast aspersions on my sweaty self, but I wondered "why anyone would roll their eyes at my bumper sticker?" I smile when I see another 13.1, 26.2, or (way to go, triathlete!) 140.6!

And then I read a Washington Post article about oversharing parents.
(Warning: do not read the last example while eating lunch...)

And something clicked.

Source: someecards.com via Diannne on Pinterest

I do roll my eyes at some outward displays of pride.

I have a particularly strong reaction to the bumper stickers: "My child is an honor student" and the flippant response "My child beat up your honor student." Both make me cringe a little (the latter more than the former, of course).

We are, it seems, all inflicted with the same diseases: pride and passion.

Fortunately or unfortunately, we're not all passionate about the same things.

That leaves us with three choices:

1. We can avoid those who don't share our passions,
2. We can tone it down and stop talking about what we love in order to accommodate the preferences of other people, or
3. We can fly the freak flag proudly, and (this is the important bit) be similarly respectful of those who are passionate about a subject we find perplexing.

Option one sounds like the least conflict-inducing, but mine would be a mighty lonely world if I were only friends with globe-trotting runners. Similarly, I suspect non-runners would miss out on a lot if they refused to be friends with anyone who ever ran a 5k.

While I don't and won't talk all about running all the time (so I suppose I do practice a bit of option 2), I would hope that my friends and colleagues would accept my recreational endeavors the way I accept their love of knitting, baking, bike-riding, or repairing classic cars. If it makes them happy, it makes me happy. (Just don't expect me to go hang gliding with you...)

So... I'm strongly leaning toward option three.

I will curtail my eye rolls over the honors student bumper stickers. I will suspend my beliefs about the healthful benefits of being outdoors for those who dedicate hours of their day to MMGS. And those t-shirts that proudly announce where you've been, where you're from, or where you want to go? Right on!

We all have a right to be proud of the things we're passionate about.

Let's just accept it and move on.

What's a pet-peeve you have?
What's one you'd like to let go of?

Warming up

I have something to confess.

I really did not want to be in San Diego this week.
Classes just ended, so I was looking forward to some less-than-12-hour work days.
I had re-stocked the fridge with gorgeous produce from the organic foods co-op.
I was looking forward to being home in the evenings and cooking dinner again.
I had no plans to get on a plane on Sunday night.

Then my day-job called, and my plans changed.

Ready for takeoff...

I can (sometimes) be an expert at reframing, but on Sunday morning, I was being a big mope. Wails of

"I don't wanna go!!!"

reverberated through my living room. I sounded like a petulant toddler. Then I got stuck next to one on the flight. (Nothing like adding insult to injury! Or was this karma biting me in the ass? Either way, I digress...)

Tantrums aside, San Diego is still home.

Work was less than catastrophic. By mid-day, it was actually pleasant to be in the office.

And then I got to run in Balboa Park. It was a glorious run. Cool weather! Great friends! Trails! Hills! All of this was followed by great dinner conversation with my friend, S.

Sure, I'd rather be at home with Hubby, watching the season finale of HIMYM (spoilers will be shot on sight!) after a lovely dinner that involved the swiss chard I'm sure will be spoiled by the time I return...

But if I have to be away from Hubby and Peanut... If I have to postpone my dream of home-cooked meals and shorter work-days... If I have to be wedged into a seat for 3 hours next to a bouncing/kicking/screaming 2-year-old...

I could certainly do worse for a destination.

I should remember:
I get to come here.

San Diego skyline at night

Are you ever a reluctant traveler?
(I must admit, I normally love the adventure that begins with printing my boarding pass, no matter where I'm going... Being not-so-keen on this trip was an odd break from tradition that I hope will not become the norm.)

Post run sweatpocalypse

You might call it Sweatmageddon.
Sweatpocalypse.
A Sweat Tsunami.

Summer has arrived on the Gulf Coast and my evening 12-miler was a sweaty affair to say the least. Thankfully Hubby was around to document the damage.

Post run: The cold floor tiles feel sooooo good!
Just ignore the puddle of sweat...

Don't judge.

After 2 slow, slogging hours in the sun, I wanted nothing more than to cool off and put my feet up. The floor tiles just happened to be the coldest thing in the house. If I could have taken a nap in the refrigerator, I probably would have.

What I didn't count on was condensation. 2 minutes after laying down, I realized I was making a sweat puddle.

Sexy, I know.

But I'm proud of it.

Today tried really hard to be a no good, very bad day. (I did my fair share of cussing, whining, and complaining, to be sure.)

This morning's thunder and lightning tried to sideline me. My mid-day was steamrolled by project deadlines at work (yes, working on Saturday. Ugh.) and California non-resident tax forms. (Hello California, could you make the forms any more confusing?)

When I went out the door this evening, I was already in a pissy mood. The temperature could have turned me around for home. The heat was just another straw on the bad-day camel's back.

But, knowing I needed a little extra motivation, I packed my mp3 player (rare event unless I'm on a treadmill). I played some of my favorite running songs and just kept putting one foot in front of the other for 120 minutes.

I admit that I wussed out a little and turned down streets for their shadiness or lack-of-hills, rather than tackling a tougher route. I won't claim this was my "best run ever." In fact, there were times when it was downright ugly. (Photo above is an excellent case-in-point...)

I did, truth be told, stop back at home at the 100-minute mark, grab a glass of ice water (my water bottle was bone dry) and ask/beg Hubby to come trot with me for the last 20 minutes.

He obliged.

And then took the photo.

..but it will be harder for him to use it as blackmail now that I've posted it on the interwebs. Heh.

What's your strategy for coping with a bad day?

Racing pretty

Each semester in the course I teach, I cover a segment on gender roles. We review the ways in which women's images are photoshopped beyond all reasonableness to make them appear flawless.

Not a pore or blemish to be found!

Beyonce's skin color varies depending on which magazine she's in:

A few of Beyonce's most famous photoshopped images.

Katie Couric drops two dress sizes with the click of a mouse.

Such an amazing weight loss seems almost impossible!
Oh wait. It is impossible. (Image source)

And the most famous Kardashian is touched up to remove all traces of cellulite.

To put the blame where it belongs, I should be clear that these photo edits are often made without the model's knowledge. (PS - Bravo to Kim. When the media started a feeding frenzy over the un-edited photo, Ms. Kardashian replied with: "So what: I have a little cellulite. What curvy girl doesn’t!?")

There are so many examples of photo-editing gone awry that Jezebel.com has a whole "photoshop of horrors" documenting the most egregious cases. Models' waists are trimmed to the point that - if they were real - they'd snap in half in a strong wind storm. Legs are slimmed so that they are thinner than arms (or in some cases, removed completely). Wrinkles vanish. Blemishes are zapped.

And it's not just women. On men, muscles are added. Skin tone is enhanced... Even Brad Pitt is not immune:

Pitt's legs are narrower than his neck in this denim ad!

All of these practices set up an unrealistic ideal that people are supposed to be impossibly thin, tanned (but not too tan), and freckle-free. Certainly we can't be seen with a splotchy red face or sweat-matted hair.

The media is full of these impossible images, so I am never at a loss for fresh content for class.

And just as I was putting together material for this semester, I read The Boring Runner's blog post on his favorite glamour-shot race photos.

So I decided to post one of my most realistic race photos.
Just to set the record straight. This is NOT what I look like after a run:

Source: google.com via Laurie on Pinterest

This IS what I look like at mile 12 of a half marathon:

Not a glamorous photo, to be sure.
In fact, my comment to Hubby was "no way THAT one is going on the blog!"

But it makes me smile. Because I know how hard I worked to get there.
And now that photo is also my electronic middle finger to the photo-editors of the world who think people are "prettier" when they're fake.

Have you seen photoshop horrors?
Do you have any others to share?
Are you proud or embarrassed of your "worst" race photos?

You might be a runner if...

In case you didn't see my featured post on Fitblogger:

You might be a runner if...

• You think of bad water as an epic race, not a beverage to avoid.
• You think nothing of spending $30 on two pairs of socks, but wonder if you should register early to get the $5 discount off a race entry fee.
• You covet new Mizuno, Newton, or Brooks more than Manolo, Louboutin, or Choo.
• When you ponder the performance-enhancing effects of compression, you’re thinking socks, not car engine parts.
• You can do the math in your head to convert kilometers to miles and race finish times to minutes-per-mile faster than your friends can calculate them with a new iPad app.
• You know what the acronyms PR and BQ stand for, and aren’t afraid to use them.
• You hate the acronyms DQ, DNF, and PF.
• You have left Happy Hour early, because you have a long run in the morning.
• You have enjoyed a beer at 8am, because that’s what you do at the beer garden after a race.



Post-run wheat beer, because wheat has carbs, right?

• You have ever justified having a beer as “carb loading.”
• You don’t understand why Americans are trying to reduce their salt intake.
• You really don’t understand the Atkins Diet’s hatred of carbs.
• You regularly wake up before dawn on the weekend, and not because it’s time to make the donuts.”

What would you add to this list?

For another other amusing "you might be a runner" list, see:
Run. Learn. Repeat.

30 days of GOOD

Sometimes inspiration comes in the strangest packages.

Since moving to Florida I have kept up with my running and fitness, but I also put on a few pounds. (Darn that Southern food!) I generally don't talk about weight -- as I don't care what mine is, as long as I can still run as fast and as far as I did last year. Seriously. And I don't plan to make this a "weight issues" post, either.

All I will say is that I picked up a few bad habits when I left Southern California. (24 pounds of candy anyone?)  A couple of extra pounds on my frame? Not a problem. Higher cholesterol? Now we might have a problem...

My bad habits were by no means egregious enough to require an intervention. They were just sort of quiet little changes that weren't the healthiest choices I could have made. In other words: I could have gone on with these little bad habits for years. (Butter on that biscuit? Don't mind if I do!)

I follow the blog GOOD, and have for quite some time. (It's full of relevant current events material to cover in my class!) The good people at GOOD have a tradition: each month they pick a life-improvement goal and post a 30-day challenge consisting of daily tasks to meet that goal. When I saw October's 30-day Challenge: Get Healthy, I thought:

"Oh, that's nice. I'm healthy already, but maybe it will give me something to blog about."

But here's the thing...somewhere along the way, glancing at the daily challenges in my Google Reader, something must have struck a nerve.

Over the past month, I've found myself dropping some of my new bad habits (cheese grits and bacon for weekend breakfast, fried green tomatoes as a "vegetable") and bringing back some of my healthy older habits (oatmeal and scrambled eggs for breakfast, two servings of non-fried veggies at dinner every night).

I haven't actually done any of the specific challenges on the day "assigned" but I am fairly certain that seeing a little "get healthy" reminder in my inbox each morning was just the inspiration I needed to kick those bad habits to the curb.

Don't get me wrong: I am not breaking up with bacon or butter. We just need a little more time apart.

Image courtesy of GOOD Challenge

Links that make you think

I'm out of commission for one more head-cold-and-fever-recovery day. But in the meantime, I've had a chance to catch up on my reading. In the process I stumbled across a couple of web gems that should be shared:

• Beth at Shut Up And Run posted "The Cone or Crap" which is far more insightful than the poop-humor title suggests.
• Meg at Watch MeGo Run talks about how running can "hurt so good," in her post Why I Love Pain.
• Adam, at The Boring Runner, takes an (uncharacteristic) serious tone to reflect on life goals and mortality in Reflections while on the run. I promise it's positive, not morbid. But he does ask two questions that really got me thinking:

If you had 6 months to live, what would you do?
What would your one-line obit say?

Maybe rest days have left me with too much time on my hands, but I've been thinking about what I'd do with only 6 months to live... Oddly (or not) I think it would look a lot like what I did this past week: some travel, some work, some running, writing and reading, going for walks on the beach, and trying new restaurants with Hubby, plus lots of time with my family.

I would definitely drink much more wine if my liver didn't need to last another 50 years. I might also do something crazy like try to run a 100-miler on not-enough-training.

But otherwise, I wouldn't change much at all.

I started to worry that this means I lack imagination, but then I realized it really means that I'm living a life I enjoy. If I get an idea for a trip or a new project, I add it to the list and get it done. (Except rock climbing... that's been on the list forever, and a friend even got me lessons for my birthday, but I still haven't checked climbing off my life list.)

Hubby suggested we could pack a couple of suitcases into a van, and travel from state to state running the most interesting routes and eating the best local foods... But that's not such big a change from the way we live now. We'd travel more (continuously, instead of 1 or 2 trips per month) and by wheels instead of wings, but otherwise the goals are the same: travel, eat, run, repeat. (It's probably good news that we have the same goals.)

I'm not sure what that turns into as a one-line obit? That requires more thought, more wine, or both...

And I really need to get on that rock climbing thing...

What would your answers be?

Confessions

I have several confessions to make about this weekend.

Confession #1 - I have not run since Friday.
About this I feel no guilt whatsoever.
I flew 6,170 miles in 6 days to see two halves of the extended family. Those halves just happen to be in opposite corners of the country. I love to travel, but three cross-country flights in 6 days (Florida to California. California to Southern New England. Southern New England to Florida) tested even my frequent flier endurance. My brain survived the travel, but my body needed a rest. So I rested by hanging out with my family, lounging in the garden, and drinking copious amounts of wine. Fortunately this "sin" is easy to correct. I'll be lacing up my running shoes the moment I click "publish" for this post.

Confession #2 - To my friends: As you may have guessed from Confession #1, I snuck into California on Thursday afternoon and back out on Friday night without telling any of you. It was a family event, and I was in town for less than 36 hours. Family had to be top (and only) priority, but I still feel guilty. The same goes for friends in the northeast. Please forgive me!

Confession #3 - I covet... my parents' garden.
On Saturday we picked potatoes, green beans, eggplant, and tomatoes and cooked them all for dinner. I may have been resting my legs, but my stomach definitely got a good workout!