Sunday, February 24, 2013

Without limits

Yesterday afternoon I was moping around and looking for something fun or challenging to do when I had a wonderful, terrible idea: a ZWOW workout! After a week of holiday during which I sampled various communist carbs in the form of rolls, oily white rice and shortbread cookies (you can taste the comrade-ship!) and drank copious amounts of delicious, delicious rum, a short workout is exactly what this lady needs.

So, I call up the latest vid and find that its title refers to vomiting. But for whatever reason I'm not worried by this. 80 push ups? Cool. 40 burpees and 60 jump lunges? No problemo. 

HA! I was loco to think that that could all go down easy like a Banana Mama. No, I would soon find out that it was more like a Zombie, the holiday beverage containing three types of rum that granted me the only holiday hangover ever. (Well, I did consume two in a row.)

After ZWOW #57, I felt great, just as I did after the Zombies. 

Today after waking up, I felt sore muscles spring up like tulips in April. A few around the shoulder area, a pair sprouting on my backside. More of them taking root on my quads. 

And right now, after a 23km run, my body feels like a twisted garden of zombified Venus Fly Traps at the height of growing season, craving small children and stray dogs to quench its overgrown thirst! 

Keep the Ibuprofen flowing, Che.

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Welcome home run

Yesterday I experienced a kind of dual citizenship of the world. I woke up in a tropical country and after a four-hour flight fell asleep in my own bed in the northern hemisphere. I've had the good luck to live the experience of exchanging temperatures, languages and what at times can feel like mirror opposites in a cultural sense a few times, just by stepping into a plane, and I wonder how that can actually be possible. Pico Iyer has written some good essays on the experience of jet lag, when you travel frequently around the world, waking up several days in a row in different beds, still overtired. Just think of the Air Miles points.

I ran on the canal for 30 minutes some time after our return. It was dark, maybe around 8pm. The ice was soft from the temperature (zero-ish) and there were kids in snowpants goofing around under the row of street lamp lights. Right now, running on the ice (or any surface) sounds like a monstrous undertaking. I somehow landed the role of host for a gastro bug about a week back, and while the effects are moderate, I am loathe to leave the comfort of my couch, or even change out of my pajamas. A citizen of my living room for today. If only the cat could run out for a few groceries while we convalesce.


Sunday, February 10, 2013

Gertie the Garmin

I tried out my new running toy today - the Garmin Forerunner 10. The Running Room sent an email cooing about its latest set of running toys; caught in a vulnerable state after missing a Sunday run, I sourced this Garmin's dependability online, and ordered one after finding it well received by critics. Strapped to my wrist today, it proved to be a valuable tracker of time, distance and related factoids. I'd forgotten what a mental stone it can be, always wondering exactly how far I've gone and how much farther to go, the sports watch I'd been using for the past year too simple to provide me with the necessary details. Figuring out metrics like distance from my watch sounds like no big deal, but clearly it expended a certain measure of mental juice because today I ran long and comfortably, knowing that someone else was at the helm and managing things. I believe I will name her Gertie.

I stuck to some usual routes around downtown and then danced onto the canal with the skaters, who I've noticed have a healthy fear of the massive and deafening machines that brush the ice clean, and move promptly out of the way when these machine approach in a convoy, their blue lights flashing. They are escorted by cops on quads, a sight that often provokes a giggle. Anyway, we all made way for the sweeping vanguard, and after it passed, everyone with something sharp on their feet darted for a piece of the cleaned ice, clear and tinted turquoise. Smooth sailing.

Would have included a photo of the blueberry pancakes I cooked after the run but I gobbled them too quickly!