Yesterday just was not a good day. I am not sure what to blame it on, perhaps the lack of recent experience in running 3 miles or just a tough new loop that mapped out. Whatever it may be it didn't go well. It was later that night that my attitude didn't change when I saw on facebook that Ali is living with her current boyfriend. Is it stupid to be upset about that? Absolutely. Did that stop me from being so? Absolutely Not. My solution right now is to keep running and maybe eventually I will feel better about everything regarding that girl and that situation. I guess it did help me feel better about it today.
This morning didn't feel much better. The students I had in the social studies class I was subbing for, were very difficult to manage and they put in quite the terrible mood which caused me to take it out on students that (although still wrong) were probably not as deserving at the students that launched me into such a whirlwind. Regardless I was a very poor teacher today. How could I do something like put my emotions not only into my jobs but also effecting the students' experience in the classroom?
What kind of teacher is that? It's after days like today, where I don't think that I am going to be a good teacher at all. I will be nothing but a student's poor experience through their high school career. But my run today made me feel better about even that.
I was thinking about my run yesterday and my run on saturday and how they could have been so different....
1. One was after a monday and the other was at the beginning of a saturday
Well, there's nothing I can do about the day of the week.
2. One was on a scenic soft trail and the other on a hard street going past car dealerships and adult video stores.
I can't get in the habit of driving to the trail every day, and there aren't really any great trails around here that are longer than a mile loop.
3. One was a straight shot back and forth and the other was a loop.
Well, that was a difference, but normally a loop is much more easier to run then a straight shot back and forth. I mean always a loop was easier to run then a straight shot back and forth.
I always frowned upon running out a little and then back because I felt it to be a lack of creativity. Instead of thinking of a very interesting loop, you just run out a mile and then come back the same way, it's so boring and unoriginal. However, I was trying to get back out there and try to continue some great running and well I guess that doing what I seemed to do right at the valley was the best course of action at this point in the summer. Therefore I clocked a run that went a mile out toward the post road and then I would cross the post road and go another half mile, which ended right after I passed by my sister's old all girl high school. I felt good about this, I felt ready to tackle something new and for the first time I was excited about running a straight shot out and back.
Upon starting the run, I felt strange. I felt like I was going fast. I probably wasn't, at least by high school cross country standards, but at the same time, I felt like I was trying very hard. I felt good, and I kept this up until I hit a very busy road near the highway called Oranoque. It's funny how a busy road just always seems to sound noisier even when there are no cars on it. This was not the case this time there were plenty of cars buzzing by my head, as if they were making a noble effort to slice my head off with their left rearview mirror. There was one landscaping truck that beeped at me. When they drove by I gave them a dirty look and mouthed fucked you. It's both infantile and pretty monotonous of an action but it brought me back into the code of the runner.
When I was running 10 miles a day, you really couldn't help but run on a busy road and then you couldn't help but have a confrontation with some asshole driving, who would either honk, yell, or do something else obnoxious to make you jump or get you pissed. The code of the runner, was to ignore and not let it phase you or at least that was the honorable thing to do. What us high schoolers did was either flip them off, tell them to fuck themselves, kick their bumper at a stop light, or quietly wish for them to wrap their car around a tree. My favorite thing to do would be to respond to the extremely original and hilarious passerby comment of, "Run, Forrest, Run.", a comment that got old halfway through the first showing of the movie. Upon hearing this, I would speed up, pretend to carry a rifle, and yell in his accent, "I GOTTA FIND BUBBA!" I would either have a response of laughter or silence. The laughter was enjoyable, and the silence just meant they were too stupid to understand the movie its from, never have seen the movie, and therefore they are just pop culture hungry puppies that suck at the next big tit, which is also an enjoyable experience but just for me.
Anyway, I continued past the mile marker and crossed the post road. I didn't hit the button, because I don't live in New York, and I hate it when someone shuts down the entire intersection for 60 seconds so they can take that 3 second jog across one crosswalk. As I was running the last half mile before I was to turn around I felt great until I came to a realization that was troubling. It felt great. I took a look at my surroundings. I looked forward, behind me, and to the sides and realized that I was currently, gradually running downhill. This was only a problem because, I was going to have to run back up that gradual downhill.
A gradual downhill is the worst, when it comes to running. It will either slowly kill you, sometimes without you realizing it, or it can just last forever and wear you down. All of these thoughts were racing through my mind, as I turned around to face the hill head on. I knew how to do it, steady pace, constant, slowly pick it up. The hill got steeper at times and when it did I powered up it. I let the downhill take me to the post road and as it did the song, Freaks and Geeks by Childish Gambino came into my mind and it helped me power up that last hill past the highway.
I crawled the last half mile, I guess I started my kick on the hill way too early. But in this case, I still felt good. I suppose that finally, all the bad felt better than that one good thing: Running, and everything it gave me today.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
To Envy a Squirrel
I was ready for three miles today. It never crossed my mind to run anything less and I even completely prepared a new route that had to do with running on the post road. I was ready for action.
When I began to run today I felt lighter than air. I was ready to keep moving and continued on a great pace. After the mile mark when I turned on the post road, something amazing happened. I had to stop at an intersection because of oncoming traffic, and when I did so, I wanted to keep running. Recently when I was given the excuse to stop on a run, I would relish in that excuse and enjoy every minute of it. But today, I wanted to keep running while standing at that intersection. However, when I turned off the Post Road, continuing on my run, I felt worse and worse. My legs grew heavy and I started to get even heavier.
It was at around the second mile where I needed to stop. I haven't stopped willingly on a run since I started this little project. I felt defeat, anger, shame. It was only a few moments later that my head rose up with an angry face and I powered through the last mile. It was with a quarter mile left that I hurt more than I have in a long while. I ran by a squirrel lying in the road with a new haircut in the shape of a tire track. I envied him for a brief moment.
I guess I never really do well with the bad days. I tend to think more negative than positive and therefore I tend to think that my life is fulling apart at the smallest imperfection, just like a squirrel after a tire track. But things will get better, they already have.
When I began to run today I felt lighter than air. I was ready to keep moving and continued on a great pace. After the mile mark when I turned on the post road, something amazing happened. I had to stop at an intersection because of oncoming traffic, and when I did so, I wanted to keep running. Recently when I was given the excuse to stop on a run, I would relish in that excuse and enjoy every minute of it. But today, I wanted to keep running while standing at that intersection. However, when I turned off the Post Road, continuing on my run, I felt worse and worse. My legs grew heavy and I started to get even heavier.
It was at around the second mile where I needed to stop. I haven't stopped willingly on a run since I started this little project. I felt defeat, anger, shame. It was only a few moments later that my head rose up with an angry face and I powered through the last mile. It was with a quarter mile left that I hurt more than I have in a long while. I ran by a squirrel lying in the road with a new haircut in the shape of a tire track. I envied him for a brief moment.
I guess I never really do well with the bad days. I tend to think more negative than positive and therefore I tend to think that my life is fulling apart at the smallest imperfection, just like a squirrel after a tire track. But things will get better, they already have.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Back to the Valley
The Valley was the weekend recluse for the four years of high school. It was the place where after running on the streets of Fairfield for five days straight we were finally given the fun and excitement of a trail run. There was never a better feeling than running through the woods, dodging different trees, branches, logs, rocks, and roots. Blazing through the wilderness racing nothing but each other and nature. it is truly the most poetic form of running.
For those that didn't want to run as many miles or wanted to add more miles to the 6 mile trail loop, they would run on the railway bed right next to the trails. It was a flat, two and a half mile stretch of flat trail that was wide enough for runners, bike riders, dog walkers, and amateur fisherman hoping for the big catch in the river down the hill from the bed. This was where I chose to run three miles for the first time this summer.
It was simple, I just had to run to the 1.5 mile mark and then run back. Once I made the 1.5 mile mark, I had no choice but to run the full 3, because I had to run back. I was greeted that morning by my old coach and the high school team just starting out their summer training for cross country. It took me back to when I was looking at the beginning of summer. Faced with the task of completely over 500 miles for the summer, which would go up to 8 to 10 miles a day. I always tried to do so, but whenever I did, my knee would give out by August and I would slowly be piecing myself together for the beginning of the cross country season. I watched those little guys take off for the six miler while I headed to the railway bed.
It hurt. It was tough to pick up my heavy legs when I got to the first half mile mark. Back when I ran the valley there were small posts that were half mile markers. Now there were giant benches downloaded by the town rotary. When you are a competitive runner, the mile markers are what help you pace yourself, what help you know if your getting 8 miles or 7 and a half, they are your best friend. But when you are an out of shape fat ass, they are your worse enemy. They are a school yard kid taunting you, saying you have only gone this far and you have so much more to go. You anticipate them, but they also make things so much slower.
As I awaited that 1.5 Mile Marker, I just said to myself, "Just make it to 1 and a half miles. Then you're set. Then you will make three miles no matter what." It took everything to get the 1.5 and there it was, sitting there at the end of a turn in the railway bed, like a beacon. I was struggling to teach it. However, upon doing so, I found myself thinking something crazy, "What if I went to the two mile mark." I don't know how this thought came into my mind, and where the energy came from but as I reached that 1.5 mile mark I said, "Fuck It!" And went to a giant rock which is right next to the two mile mark. The way back should have been a difficult one, but knowing that I was running four miles for the first time, when I planned to run three for the first time was a good enough feeling for me to finish the run with lifted spirits.
I'm not a high school runner anymore.
I'm not running so that I can score big in Cross Country this year.
I don't want five hundred miles or 8 miles a day
and I'm not running so that I can run with the high schoolers that took off for the six mile loop.
I'm running for me. I'm running to challenge myself. I had no reason for going four. But I loved doing it. I'm doing what I love. That's what it comes down to.
For those that didn't want to run as many miles or wanted to add more miles to the 6 mile trail loop, they would run on the railway bed right next to the trails. It was a flat, two and a half mile stretch of flat trail that was wide enough for runners, bike riders, dog walkers, and amateur fisherman hoping for the big catch in the river down the hill from the bed. This was where I chose to run three miles for the first time this summer.
It was simple, I just had to run to the 1.5 mile mark and then run back. Once I made the 1.5 mile mark, I had no choice but to run the full 3, because I had to run back. I was greeted that morning by my old coach and the high school team just starting out their summer training for cross country. It took me back to when I was looking at the beginning of summer. Faced with the task of completely over 500 miles for the summer, which would go up to 8 to 10 miles a day. I always tried to do so, but whenever I did, my knee would give out by August and I would slowly be piecing myself together for the beginning of the cross country season. I watched those little guys take off for the six miler while I headed to the railway bed.
It hurt. It was tough to pick up my heavy legs when I got to the first half mile mark. Back when I ran the valley there were small posts that were half mile markers. Now there were giant benches downloaded by the town rotary. When you are a competitive runner, the mile markers are what help you pace yourself, what help you know if your getting 8 miles or 7 and a half, they are your best friend. But when you are an out of shape fat ass, they are your worse enemy. They are a school yard kid taunting you, saying you have only gone this far and you have so much more to go. You anticipate them, but they also make things so much slower.
As I awaited that 1.5 Mile Marker, I just said to myself, "Just make it to 1 and a half miles. Then you're set. Then you will make three miles no matter what." It took everything to get the 1.5 and there it was, sitting there at the end of a turn in the railway bed, like a beacon. I was struggling to teach it. However, upon doing so, I found myself thinking something crazy, "What if I went to the two mile mark." I don't know how this thought came into my mind, and where the energy came from but as I reached that 1.5 mile mark I said, "Fuck It!" And went to a giant rock which is right next to the two mile mark. The way back should have been a difficult one, but knowing that I was running four miles for the first time, when I planned to run three for the first time was a good enough feeling for me to finish the run with lifted spirits.
I'm not a high school runner anymore.
I'm not running so that I can score big in Cross Country this year.
I don't want five hundred miles or 8 miles a day
and I'm not running so that I can run with the high schoolers that took off for the six mile loop.
I'm running for me. I'm running to challenge myself. I had no reason for going four. But I loved doing it. I'm doing what I love. That's what it comes down to.
Friday, June 10, 2011
I Can't Tonight, Honey. I Have a Headache
The past two days were either severe heat or lightning storms. You can tell me that it was just me making excuses, and maybe it was, but hell I didn't want to go out there in those conditions.
Today I taught fourth graders and they were a rather rambunctious crowd. Being a substitute teacher at this time is always difficult. The students always try to get the better of you and they are most deservedly excited for the summer. With that in mind, it was a very long day today. The most notable being that the students were stunned to find out that I traded pokemon cards when I was there age. They were floored. It made me feel pretty old but at the same time, I am pretty old. There loud and energetic demeanor the entire day led me to having a headache.
I wasn't planning on running today and at the last moment I thought I should. But, even after advil, this headache didn't seem to subside. i thought of the old cliche of when a husband wants to get intimate with his wife and she shuts him down with the famous excuse of, "Not Tonight, Honey. I have a headache."
I imagined running being that pesky male partner wanting to get going and I was the rather unenthusiastic partner with the headache that just wanted to rest. Well using this analogy I felt rather bad for running and for desperate horny males everywhere I decided to go for just a mile. I began to run and started to feel great, so I took the turn for two miles. There was another turn that I have not even thought about taking this summer, the turn for the four mile loop. I considered it today, but I felt soar and decided to take the turn for two. I guess thinking about doing it and almost doing it is just as much progress and just as much of a start then any other.
Thank goodness that I took that turn because while going up that hill I felt terrible. When I reached the top of the two mile hill, I felt even worse and wanted to stop but I have always been raised to blast off at the crest of the hill was just what I needed to do. I didn't blast off however and I barely even moved but I did not stop which has been the ongoing goal. I barely crawled into my yard for the finish and man did I feel terrible. I guess if we're going with the headache analogy you could say that I didn't actually have sex with running, nor did running have sex with me, but running flat out fucked me.
Today I taught fourth graders and they were a rather rambunctious crowd. Being a substitute teacher at this time is always difficult. The students always try to get the better of you and they are most deservedly excited for the summer. With that in mind, it was a very long day today. The most notable being that the students were stunned to find out that I traded pokemon cards when I was there age. They were floored. It made me feel pretty old but at the same time, I am pretty old. There loud and energetic demeanor the entire day led me to having a headache.
I wasn't planning on running today and at the last moment I thought I should. But, even after advil, this headache didn't seem to subside. i thought of the old cliche of when a husband wants to get intimate with his wife and she shuts him down with the famous excuse of, "Not Tonight, Honey. I have a headache."
I imagined running being that pesky male partner wanting to get going and I was the rather unenthusiastic partner with the headache that just wanted to rest. Well using this analogy I felt rather bad for running and for desperate horny males everywhere I decided to go for just a mile. I began to run and started to feel great, so I took the turn for two miles. There was another turn that I have not even thought about taking this summer, the turn for the four mile loop. I considered it today, but I felt soar and decided to take the turn for two. I guess thinking about doing it and almost doing it is just as much progress and just as much of a start then any other.
Thank goodness that I took that turn because while going up that hill I felt terrible. When I reached the top of the two mile hill, I felt even worse and wanted to stop but I have always been raised to blast off at the crest of the hill was just what I needed to do. I didn't blast off however and I barely even moved but I did not stop which has been the ongoing goal. I barely crawled into my yard for the finish and man did I feel terrible. I guess if we're going with the headache analogy you could say that I didn't actually have sex with running, nor did running have sex with me, but running flat out fucked me.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
You Never Know
I have been sans computer for the past few days so I will catch up with what has happened the past few days.
I suppose that because I haven't had much to be cheery about that I have been thinking pretty negatively about getting back into shape. I have been running about 2 miles a day at a slow pace when I used to be able to run 10 a day at a much faster pace. But if the last two days of running taught me anything. It is to keep my head up because good news and good feelings could come sooner that I think.
Monday might have been the worst running day that I have had in quite some time. My legs didn't hurt that much and I wasn't feeling like crap, like I have sometimes felt even when in shape. But the moment that I took off for a two mile run I truly did not want to run at all. I really did not want to run another step. It wasn't for any reason in particular, it's just that my heart wasn't into it. About 100 feet in I just wanted to turn around and go back. I tried to reason with myself and say that I would cut it down to just the mile loop and finally I was able to convince myself to at least go that mile.
I was thinking that it was just mentally an off day. Those happen all the time. But then on Tuesday, I once again felt terrible. Not sick or sore, but I truly did not want to run. I did not want to strap on my shoes and run. I didn't even want to think about running. I have never felt that way in a very long time, or ever. I couldn't put my finger on the feeling. I definitely haven't been overtraining. I think the heat may have an affect on my morale but other than that there is no good reason.
At about nine o'clock I took a large gulp, laced up my aasics and sacked up for a one mile run. However, when I began to run something strange happened. I actually began to feel good. Very good. Because of this new good feeling, I decided to take the turn for two miles. I continued to run harder and harder and just seemed to feel better and better. I even tried my luck at running by a radar gun which didn't make a hell of a lot of sense but it still felt good to do. I was clocked at 17 MPH by the way. I finished in a cool summer night, feeling great about myself.
This reminded me of a time that took place during the senior year of my high school. It was the last dual meet of the season and it was against two rivals of our high school and it was one our home turf. I was ready to run a damn good race and was really excited to see what our team would do. I finished last in the race, for the sole reason that I was not in the right frame of mind. I was just getting out of a knee injury and I was just mentally not there. It was a heartbreaking loss for the team and for me personally.
About a week later, the team was running a track workout. 400 repeats. I ran them okay. Not great. Not bad. Just okay. It was the second to last one that I ran terrible for some reason. I just was once again mentally not there. My coach asked me what the hell happened and I said that my mind just got to me. I told him that it felt just like the previous race. Coach Ford is all about a runners mentality and that it affects everything about a runners success on the track and cross country course. I was about to start my last 400 when he stopped me. He called Mike over. Mike was another senior runner who never would see the top seven varsity but still gave it his all and was a great help to the team. He had Mike run his 400 first. When he took off Coach Ford then had me approach the line and when Mike was 200 meters away, Coach told me to go. By the end of the 400 I caught up with Mike and finished with my best time of the day. Coach asked me how that felt, and regardless of him being my elder I told him, "That felt fucking great." The next race I ran my best race of the season.
Running is all about mentality. You are going to have good and bad days because of your physical state that day, but also your mental state can affect you day in and day out. You can sometimes have an affect on that, but sometimes you may not. I guess the best I can say is that just try to get out and run everyday regardless of your day before, because you never know....
I suppose that because I haven't had much to be cheery about that I have been thinking pretty negatively about getting back into shape. I have been running about 2 miles a day at a slow pace when I used to be able to run 10 a day at a much faster pace. But if the last two days of running taught me anything. It is to keep my head up because good news and good feelings could come sooner that I think.
Monday might have been the worst running day that I have had in quite some time. My legs didn't hurt that much and I wasn't feeling like crap, like I have sometimes felt even when in shape. But the moment that I took off for a two mile run I truly did not want to run at all. I really did not want to run another step. It wasn't for any reason in particular, it's just that my heart wasn't into it. About 100 feet in I just wanted to turn around and go back. I tried to reason with myself and say that I would cut it down to just the mile loop and finally I was able to convince myself to at least go that mile.
I was thinking that it was just mentally an off day. Those happen all the time. But then on Tuesday, I once again felt terrible. Not sick or sore, but I truly did not want to run. I did not want to strap on my shoes and run. I didn't even want to think about running. I have never felt that way in a very long time, or ever. I couldn't put my finger on the feeling. I definitely haven't been overtraining. I think the heat may have an affect on my morale but other than that there is no good reason.
At about nine o'clock I took a large gulp, laced up my aasics and sacked up for a one mile run. However, when I began to run something strange happened. I actually began to feel good. Very good. Because of this new good feeling, I decided to take the turn for two miles. I continued to run harder and harder and just seemed to feel better and better. I even tried my luck at running by a radar gun which didn't make a hell of a lot of sense but it still felt good to do. I was clocked at 17 MPH by the way. I finished in a cool summer night, feeling great about myself.
This reminded me of a time that took place during the senior year of my high school. It was the last dual meet of the season and it was against two rivals of our high school and it was one our home turf. I was ready to run a damn good race and was really excited to see what our team would do. I finished last in the race, for the sole reason that I was not in the right frame of mind. I was just getting out of a knee injury and I was just mentally not there. It was a heartbreaking loss for the team and for me personally.
About a week later, the team was running a track workout. 400 repeats. I ran them okay. Not great. Not bad. Just okay. It was the second to last one that I ran terrible for some reason. I just was once again mentally not there. My coach asked me what the hell happened and I said that my mind just got to me. I told him that it felt just like the previous race. Coach Ford is all about a runners mentality and that it affects everything about a runners success on the track and cross country course. I was about to start my last 400 when he stopped me. He called Mike over. Mike was another senior runner who never would see the top seven varsity but still gave it his all and was a great help to the team. He had Mike run his 400 first. When he took off Coach Ford then had me approach the line and when Mike was 200 meters away, Coach told me to go. By the end of the 400 I caught up with Mike and finished with my best time of the day. Coach asked me how that felt, and regardless of him being my elder I told him, "That felt fucking great." The next race I ran my best race of the season.
Running is all about mentality. You are going to have good and bad days because of your physical state that day, but also your mental state can affect you day in and day out. You can sometimes have an affect on that, but sometimes you may not. I guess the best I can say is that just try to get out and run everyday regardless of your day before, because you never know....
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Sunday Sore Sunday
I was ridiculously tired today. Might have to do with my graduation party yesterday, not sure. All I know is that the two miles I ran today were difficult but did not feel impossible.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Turning a Corner
I didn't run on Friday. The reason is unknown. I had time. I thought about running all day. But when it came I just...didn't. I wasn't lazy. I wasn't getting out of anything. I am not exactly sure why but it happened.
Regardless, sometimes the best thing to do is take a day off, because today went fantastic and I haven't felt that good on a one mile run nevermind a two mile run. I really feel like I am slowly making my way into my element and will be going up to 3 miles a day in the next few weeks.
Things are headed in a positive direction...at least for now.
One thing interesting on this run was when my golden jesus chain somehow got out of my shirt and kept on hitting me. It's never happened before, but for some reason, I'm assuming my neckhole on the shirt was too big, the chain kept slipping out and constantly hitting me in the chest. I guess becuase I am writing about my day to day actions I can see symbolism in day to day happenings.
I was very religious in high school. I was a leader of religious retreats, a eucharistic minister, and I would sometimes organize 24 hour prayer services. It seemed in college that I really lost sight of my religion. I can't say why. There was no catastophe or tragedy that I experienced and I still dig God and all of that. I am just not into it as much as I used to be.
I don't know what this has to do with anything. But it is something that is on my mind.
Regardless, sometimes the best thing to do is take a day off, because today went fantastic and I haven't felt that good on a one mile run nevermind a two mile run. I really feel like I am slowly making my way into my element and will be going up to 3 miles a day in the next few weeks.
Things are headed in a positive direction...at least for now.
One thing interesting on this run was when my golden jesus chain somehow got out of my shirt and kept on hitting me. It's never happened before, but for some reason, I'm assuming my neckhole on the shirt was too big, the chain kept slipping out and constantly hitting me in the chest. I guess becuase I am writing about my day to day actions I can see symbolism in day to day happenings.
I was very religious in high school. I was a leader of religious retreats, a eucharistic minister, and I would sometimes organize 24 hour prayer services. It seemed in college that I really lost sight of my religion. I can't say why. There was no catastophe or tragedy that I experienced and I still dig God and all of that. I am just not into it as much as I used to be.
I don't know what this has to do with anything. But it is something that is on my mind.
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