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A few weeks ago I jogged—for just 9 minutes—at the gym. It went something like this...
Must find perfect treadmill. Needs to have high-powered fan and smooth belt (unlike the weird rubber belt that makes me face plant mid-stride).
Aha. Perfect treadmill, still in view of Oprah and Whitney's big comeback interview.
Step confidently on treadmill and deposit keys & gym card in nifty key-holder cubbie. Double check to make sure young men aren't directly behind me, as they have no mercy for 30-somethings with generous cabooses. Good, no teenage boys. Proceed with caution.
Take a deep breath, stretch out calves & quads (making sure not to bend over... eek!), and push the "Up" button three or four times. Now moving at breakneck rate of 20-minute mile. Call this a one-minute warm up while reading Whitney moaning about her "Crack is whack" days.
Look down and realize one minute came and went. Sigh and push "up" button again, all the way to a 5.0 (greased lightening for me!).
Über short legs go from walk, to brisk walk, to "crap I have to run" in just a few seconds.
Realize in horror that everything is jiggling, wibble-ing and wobbling, and that maybe I should have put on running tights under my roomy yoga pants. Too late now.
Feel an uncomfortable up-down motion that simply can't be stopped. Sigh deeply. But then raise a pleased eyebrow; the bobbing has distracted me from the slow death of my lungs for at least two minutes. Score.
Try to focus on Whitney and Oprah for next minute. Last 30 seconds before stealing glances at the obviously malfunctioning treadmill timer every 10 seconds.
Startle myself with my own breathing, which is incredibly louder than it should be. Attempt to quietly breathe in and out my nose—the way my cross country coach always said I should—and give up immediately as my diaphragm starts choking for oxygen.
Breathing loudly again, but lungs are thankful. Jog without incident for two minutes, daydreaming about my strong form and feeling good—peaceful almost. Love this brief runner's high. High on life. Woohoo! Look at me... bouncing, but awesome. I am awesome.
Leg starts to cramp. Shin-splint reminders of exercise years gone by.
Side stitch develops. Makes breathing even louder.
Whole legs aching now. Timer says 6:07. SERIOUSLY?!
Will myself not to look at clock. Don't look down. You DON'T NEED TO LOOK DOWN! 6:32. Ugh!
Wage war with treadmill and body. Internally screaming at pathetic body that obviously doesn't want me to get in shape. Attempt to let Oprah draw me in with her usual, "And how did that make you feel?" question.
At 8:04, cannot keep eyes away from clock. Legs and lungs burning, head spinning, watching every second tick by.
I'm dying, I'm dying, somebody save me!
8:56, 8:57, 8:58, 8:59, 9:00!!!
Push "down" button frantically, to soothing 3.0 pace, sweat pouring off my forehead.
Cool down for one minute, step off treadmill, sway with that post-treadmill/boat sea leg weirdness.
Feel awesome at having escaped death in rock star jogging.
Do not repeat for 60 days.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
A jog
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6 comments:
Ok know that I have wiped the tears from my face and picked myself up off the floor I can comment.
Good for you for running! I'm pretty sure right now there is no way I could do 9 minutes even if my knee wasn't injured. Can't wait to hear about the next run.
I'm the same way, lol. I can't run worth a damn. I run in intervals. In fact, if you're serious about running, try this: http://www.c25k.com/.
I started on it, and liked it, but once the semester started I ran out of free time. It seems like a really cool program and its easy.
HYfreakin'STERICAL! You crack me up. :) Good work, Tif! On the jog AND the post!
Have faith! It will come! I started running five minutes at a time, Now I can do 45 minutes. No kidding. And, the jiggling decreases. You can do it!
Thanks for the smile!
Ick, I HATE running, especially on a treadmill. When I did do it a few times, I used the "run 4-5 minutes and walk for 2 minutes" method. It did seem to make the impossibly slow time-suck go faster.
pardon my french sweet friend. but you are fucking hilarious. I almost peed my pants laughing, not because of the horrible things that happened to you but because I have been RIGHT there and laughed outloud that you KNOW MY PAIN. God love ya for giving it your all, everything really does movedoesnt it...I thought my boobs turned into 20 pound weights that were for cerain going to rip off at any moment. I love you girl. So glad you are in my life and the next time I am doing any kind of excersie I will thinking "I AM NOT ALONE" and that will arise over the noise of my sudden asthma that I have never had until that last moment ago that I started to run.
Okay I am done.
And for the record, I love your buns, you can bend over in front of me anytime! :)
Love,
Em
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