Defeated

No running and no chocolate make Berry Girl irritable and twitchy.

No running, because the hip was out again at my second physio appointment yesterday.

No chocolate, because of the above problem.  We like to see the scale stay where it is if it will not be showing decreasing numbers.  If I’m not running, then I’m not burning extra calories, and then I’m potentially getting larger.  So no chocolate.  Or, at least, less chocolate.

*sigh*

I already took a week off running due to a chest cold, and was itching to get back to it this week.  And then I went to physio, and wouldn’t you know it, the hip is out again.  Not quite as bad as last time, but enough that Physio Girl *suggested* that I not run for a while.

Then Suzy had to go and corroborate that advice, and so I’m obediently NOT running or taking the stairs two at a time or doing lunges or any other large movement that might possibly involve my hips, so as to give the hip time to settle into it’s new happy place.

I think I’ll have to go re-read Suzy’s posts of things-to-do-while-not-running…

Well, shucks.

I’m all snuggled up with a fleecy blanket, feeling sorry for myself because I have not run since Saturday due to a nasty phlegmy cough that I am determined will not turn into bronchitis (which it probably will thanks to my asthma).  Because I’m jonesing for a run, I’m reading all the posts on Daily Mile and my favorite running blogs to see what all I’m missing out on (a lot, crap) when I click on MCM Mama’s new post and find that she’s passed on an award to me!

Made. My. Day.

THANKS!  I totally love her blog – I often use her running to motivate myself, which I hope isn’t weird since I don’t actually *know* her.  The Internet – it does strange things to us.  Like blogging.

Anyway, I’m supposed to list 7 things about me, and then tag 7 other bloggers:

1. I think that ice cream should be a food group.  Ben & Jerry’s “If I Had 1,000,000 Flavours” in particular.

2. I can sneak 3 spoonfuls of said ice cream from the basement freezer before the boys start to wonder where I am.

3. I routinely kill houseplants, yet I love to garden.

4. I am hooked on my Adidas Supernovas.  Totally.  And I was a die-hard Asics fan before this.

5. I don’t like reading books that I haven’t purchased (ie. borrowed).  Because then I’ll have read it, loved it, but won’t want to spend money on buying it because it is now  a book that I’ve already read.  I like owning.

6. I love doing hill work.  That little tiny muscle in my butt? Notsomuch.

7. I would like to write something someday that is bigger and more important than my “Letter to the Editor” at Runner’s World that ended up being the “Rant of the Month”.  Although I was immensely proud, I think I can do more.

And now I will tag:

Chris at My World of Boys (private blog)

Suzy at The Runs

Prairie Chick at Prairie Prologue

Tracey at Operation Tightpants

sorry, it’s not 7, but it’ll do.

Sometimes, it pays not to know

There was a story in my last Canadian Running magazine called “Live and Die by the watch”, where the runner writing the story wiped out hard in the middle of his run, and before he’d even rolled over and assessed the damage to his body he’d taken the time to stop his watch.

He goes on to relate the story of another runner-friend with a similar experience: “he had slipped on some ice and fell in front of a moving bus.  He had to scramble and literally roll onto the sidewalk to avoid being hit, and yet, before the length of the bus had passed him, he had stopped his watch.”

I laughed.

And then I thought.

And when I went out last Sunday for a quick run, I deliberately left my watch behind so that I could just enjoy the run and not worry about my pace.

And then Tracey blogged about leaving her watch behind completely, because the competition she was experiencing with herself was getting to be a little overwhelming.  And I knew exactly what she was talking about.

I’ve always been a little obsessive with my time and my pace and my distance.  I love watching myself improve, and I love pushing myself.  But I can tend to get a little…obsessive.  I’m particularly obsessive when I log in to Daily  Mile.  I want to have run farther, or faster, or posted better pace times than other people.  And that’s not a terrible thing – I think competition is good, but my runs have begun to be more about always being faster and going farther, regardless of how my body is feeling.

And so I run my 800m repeats, but I make sure that I run them as fast as I had seen someone else run them the week before, even though it might kill me to do it.  I might feel like running a nice easy day, but the thought of what that will do to my pace when I post the run makes me run faster than *easy*.

So when I left my watch behind last Sunday, it nearly drove me insane that I had no idea if I was running *fast enough*.  Finally, by around the halfway point, I relaxed.  And when the pace felt too quick, I slowed down.  And when it felt good, I let my legs run as fast (or as slow) as they wanted.

Now I’m in physio for a long-standing issue with my hip, and I have no choice but to take it easy.  And so my last two runs on the treadmill have been conservative, and I haven’t posted my times – partly because I didn’t want to, and partly because I completely forgot to write them down.  I think that’s maybe a good thing right now.

I’m not saying that I’ll go on like this forever, because I won’t.  I like knowing how fast I’m going, and I’m totally jonesing for a Garmin that will tell me on my outside runs how fast I’m running in real time, and how far, and all that cool stuff.  And I like pushing myself, and I will do that again too.  But I forgot how good it felt to NOT push myself, and to just run nice and easy.

(Thanks for your post Tracey – you said exactly what I’ve been thinking lately.)

Watch Your Mouth

I do believe that we have reached the point in our lives where we need to be a *bit* more careful about what we say when the boys are in earshot.

I was on the phone the other day talking to a friend (I think it was Chris), and we were discussing Berry Boy’s upcoming hockey game and who would be on his team.  I was rattling off names, and then I said “and there’s the kid who pushes the chair around on the ice…I’m not sure who he is, but his mom is kind of a big lady, and she sounds a bit like a man…” – NOT, of course, trying to be mean, but just trying to describe who this person was.  Berry Boy was playing off in the playroom, and I didn’t think anything of it.

Until the next day at his hockey game.

We’re in the change room, and as I’m plunking Berry Boy’s helmet on his head, the aforementioned mom came in to grab a jersey for her kid.  She said something to our coach, and then walked out the door.

AS she’s walking out the door, Berry Boy looks at me and says “You’re right mom.  She does sound like a man”.

I’m frantically making “SHUSH!!!” motions with my hands and praying fervently that she was far enough out of the room at the time that she didn’t hear.

And then we had a long discussion about how there are some things that maybe we might say at home but we definitely do not repeat in public.

Ah Winter…

This is the time of year when the temperatures dip waaay past what a normal human should endure, and where I plant myself firmly in front of the blazing wood stove with a hot cup of coffee and either a book or the current issue of Runner’s World (or Canadian Running) and resist most efforts made to move me from my warm little piece of heaven.

I sit and sip, and imagine myself being all hard-core and gearing up in fleece winter running wear and a cute beanie for my head, and doing a long run on the snowy roads in the cold, and how awesome that would  be in the crisp cold air with the snow sparkling all around me.  And then I move about half a foot away from the stove, realize that IT’S FREAKISHLY COLD OUTSIDE, and promptly sit down for a little more coffee and maybe a bit of chocolate to go with.

So last Sunday, when it was for sure below –20C and Berry Guy and some friends of ours had planned a Pond Party, I had little to no intention of attending.  My master plan was to say that it was certainly too cold for Berry Baby to be out there, so I would either stay home with him or head over to Prairie Chick’s for coffee and a visit (since she was smart enough not to go as well).

Besides, we’d just spent the holidays consuming gobs of butter in the form of sugar cookies and shortbread, and I have to say I am certainly feeling the many, many, many cookies…on my thighs…and my butt…and unfortunately not on my chest.  Which made me *ever* so anxious to put on a pair of long underwear underneath my jeans, so that they’d feel, you know, tighter.

But then Berry Guy called me a Party Pooper.  And I may be many things (that we need not list here) but I am not a Party Pooper.  I am a walking partay thankyouverymuch.

So I put on my game face and bundled up myself and the toddler, and we went out to meet the rest of the party animals at the pond after Berry Baby’s nap.  And, to be honest, I’m glad I did.

There was an awesome game of broom ball going on…

and Berry Guy was not doing very much at all tending net.

Berry Baby was stoic and looked not unlike a large navy blue marshmallow…

because let’s face it, it was COLD out there.  But everyone’s kids were all bundled up and warm…

kind of, and Berry Guy finally got in the game and started playing…

which I found kind of hot.

The boys were, I think, looking for fish.  In the pond.  Which is in the middle of a field.  Whatever.

Berry Baby stole a ball and wouldn’t give it back to the players (who, fortunately, had a spare)

And this, as you can imagine, is where I parked my party-animal self for the duration of my time out there.

Yeah, I don’t go far from the warmth.

Old Year’s Resolutions

I am pleased to report that my resolutions from last year were a raging success.  I can happily say that I was able to tick off every single item with pride and resolve:

Drink more coffee – ohhh yes

Drink more coffee while visiting more with good friends – done and done

Visit Starbucks every time I am in the city, at least once – pffft…once?  That was a no-brainer.  I really should have shot a little higher on this one and resolved to go there at least twice each time I was in the city.  Because that’s often what ends up happening.  Hey, it’s a long half-hour drive home…

Eat too many desserts and not enough vegetables – I’m still amazed that I do not have scurvy.  And that I don’t weigh much, much more than I do…

Shop at The Gap at least once instead of Superstore – yep, scored some sweet deals this year and some great online coupons

Play Lego – ugh.  have I ever.

Read good books – easy.  soooo easy.

Read good books to the boys – I’ve been buying Berry Boy at least one book every time he brings home those Scholastic book order forms, and I’m pleased to say that I’ve picked up some great stuff, like “Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day” – classic.

Buy new books often – oh yeah.  At least one a month, thanks to my Book Club (I love being in Book Club)

Run as often as I can, as best as I can – well, this gets a little dicey.  As often as I could, for sure.  As best as I could?  Not all the time, but I talked about that in the last post.

Stay in pyjamas as long as possible in the morning – check.  embarrassingly long mornings in pjs.

It would be difficult to top this list with another, so I won’t bother.  Besides, I wouldn’t want to make the rest of you feel bad about not being able to keep your own resolutions when I am so good at keeping mine.

*grin*