Three Days to Lift Off

Let's recap, shall we? I have three days until my first half marathon. In fact, this will be my first athletic event since high school (I really don't count that day in college step class where I had to perform my personally choreographed step moves). The "trainer" suggests that we run three miles, walk a mile, run three miles, and so on. I am so game to that plan. I know it will be tough haul but I can run three miles at a time. At least for a little while.

The forecast, however, is in my favor. The local paper is calling for rain (here rain, heeeerrrreee rain - sorry, I digress) and I do much better in cooler weather than the hot stuff. Warm weather results in an uncomfortable, ornery Becca covered in heat rashes. I don't want blisters AND a heat rash! Anyhoo, wish me luck. And meet me at the finish line with some Vodka.

Oh Crap

I totally forgot I need to go jogging today and here I am, on my porch, drunk. One week to go and I haven't quite given up the booze... or the white grains. The farthest I can run? Two miles. I should be able to kick it up to thirteen by next week. I know it. Or something. Less blogging, more booze!

Getting Fit. Wii Fit

I have addiction. It's name is Wii. My mom sent over this massive package for my birthday full of bunny peeps, candies from my home town, post its and other stationary, and the best present of all: the Wii Fit. I am on this damn thing an hour a day hula hooping my ass off (I also quite like the penguin game where I try to catch fish). I even run a mile and a half in place waiting to hear what a "Calorie Incinerator" I am. I INCINORATE calories. Take that calorie bitches! The problem with the Wii Fit? I spend so much time on it inside that house that I get annoyed when the neighbors stop by to chat (can't they see I am playing Wii?) and it prevents me from running outside. The “trainer” says I should have a new goal - learn how to run a marathon by only using the Wii Fit. Challenge accepted. Huzzah!

Just Blog It

Last night I felt like I was in my own Nike commercial. I started running late, as I always do, and dragged the "trainer" down to the college track after dark. He wasn't running but wanted to make sure a sweet looking girl like myself didn't become a Lifetime Original Movie. Isn't that nice? As I was running and he was Iphoning, it began to rain. After lap three, the lightening started. I kept with it, pressing hard, and felt like a champion. I watched through the window as the muscle men in the gym pumped iron and thought, "Wussies. Get out here and challenge Zeus to a race." After about ten minutes of the rain and lightening, I went back inside. Still, I ran in harsh elements. And kicked ass.

Want to Go Jogging With Me?

I ask my "trainer" about five times a day if he wants to go jogging with me. He almost always answers no. Then follows up with why - I am too slow. Harsh. And besides, speed's not everything. Think the tortoise and the hare. The other day, however, I did convince him to run with me and we made our way down to the track. Upon arrival, we discovered legitimate athletes using the track. I wasn't about to run in front of people that had muscles and fitness so we made it over to the local park. Unfortunately, it was a BEAUTIFUL day out and loads of people were in the park. I hate running in front of an audience. I only display the wobbliness of my wobbly bits to a select few. Plus, I push harder than what I do if no audience. After a massive jog in record time, I wanted to die. I was looking forward to the next day when the track would be free.

The next day came and I made my way to the track.... still in use by the physically fit people. What? Why aren't these people in doors? Come on, be like the rest of us! Show offs. Rather than heading to the park, I decided to run home. After all, it was hill running practice. And so I jogged and jogged and jogged and THEN I fell. I tripped over a freaking pine cone and my weak ass ankles gave out!! Personally, I blame the real athletes. And the pine cone. I always knew nature had it out for me.

Weak Ankles, Weak Ethics?

With all this activity and what not, I have realized that my ankles are only good for an eighty year old. The "trainer" suggested that I spell the alphabet in the air with my feet five times in a row. I can manage three before cramping or needing an ice pack.

Take That Arnold

Ok, I feel much better after running last night. I ran twice as long with little pain and sweating. In fact, the only pain I felt was the blister that developed from the distance. This massive push could be from my getting into shape but I think it's from something much greater than that: I'm a terminator. That's right, I am a machine so powerful that the only way to destroy me is by deposing of my chip and setting my machine body on fire. I can't tell if I am good terminator or a bad terminator but maybe on my next run, I'll get a visit from Glenda The Good Witch and she'll let me know.

Run Fatgirl Run

Running is hard and every time I do it, I feel like Simon Pegg in Run Fatboy Run. I get halfway around the track and I’m winded, craving a Marlboro. Then, my shirt pulls up just enough to expose my wobbly bits known as my stomach. It's not as hairy as Simon Pegg's but the size is comparable. I do make it around the track a couple of times - enough to feel slightly good yet depressed all the same. It wasn't the distance I originally set out to run, but at least I ran. I smugly walk off the track as my Indian landlord yells at me. Ok, that last part doesn't happen but I do have trouble running and I do remind myself of Simon Pegg. My first run after the ten-day pause was horrible. I usually take comfort in the fact that while I am not a professional athlete, I look adorable in my running gear (always important). But that day, I just looked swollen. I am sure my left butt cheek is twice the size of my right butt cheek and it really showed on Thursday. Furthermore, running around the track was comparable to a terrorist attack. I was sweating, confused, and in serious pain. The mucus made it all the way up to my eardrums for a throbbing effect. Pump pump pump pump. Fiberglass replaced my fleshy lungs and they hurt so much, they itched. I have never heard of itchy lungs before. Then, later in the evening, my ankles ached. So, after this cheerful blog, I am out to do it again. Yay?

Running In Spirit Is Not Enough

The last week and a half has been beyond busy for me. I turned 26 (let's not talk about how I am 26 year old intern with loads of debt), my bff got married, I helped open a shoe store, had a magazine event, and a massive fundraiser for the radio station. In the past ten days, I dealt with all that and ran only twice. Awesome. How many days to the half marathon? Not enough. I am getting back into my routine tonight and as I nosh on my chocolate chip cookie, I am mapping out my route. That's another thing, my diet has been out of whack with all the running around (but no actual running). Mac & cheese last night, Taco Bell the night before, and then pizza on Monday. My birthday brought tons of chocolate and birthday cake. Mmmmm cake. A friend of mine from high school said I type this blog while munching on asparagus and carrots. HAHAHHAHAHAHA! Yeah right, my stomach wishes. Hey tummy, you a little upset from that mac & cheese? Let me settle you with some carmel popcorn. I am sure going to the grocery store and replenishing my fruit bin would help, but who has the time?

On another note, my yippiness (yuppie hippiness) was challenged at the magazine event. I know, you are shocked. No one is more of a yippie than me. But someone had the audacity to say I was not a good enough yippie because I don't grow my own organic fruits and vegetables. Ummm.... I tried gardening and never got around to it so now I have organic foods delivered to my house. I also lived two blocks from Chez Panisse, Alice Waters' restaurant. For those of you who don't know, she's the "inventor" of the slow food movement. I lived in the center of yippiness. I don't think I need to grow my own organic food with connections like that. Scoff, I am SO a good yippie. Now if only I could be a good runner...