September 21, 2010

• TH Diaries: Day Two

  Tuesday, September 14 – Tuesday, September 21, 2010

  I was beat.  Like, beat like someone tied me to the flagpole and went bazonkers.  

  Last Tuesday was hot.  Like, it was 7pm and still 80 some degrees out. Granted, some marathoners run in the Sahara, but that’s not me.  Stayed home and popped in the new exercise dvds I got.  It was a WORKOUT.  Almost as intense as the day before.  Sweat like I never knew it.  I never wanted to collapse like I did.  I contemplated turning back.  The guy is good.  Not too bright, but good.  

  I finish.  I am hungry, thirsty, tired. 

  The next day I wake up and everything hurts.  My calves feel achy.  My butt hurts.  My abs hurt.  Everything.  Hurts. 

  I decide I need a break to let my muscles recover.  I take two.

  Days. 

  I forget that Saturday requires me to drive to North Carolina.  Sunday requires me to drive back.  (Congratulations on your wedding, Erlenmyer.)  

  It’s Monday and I’m determined to get back on track.

  It’s blistering outside.  

  I sit at home and mope. 

  Tuesday again.  I wake up with the intention of running today.  In the middle of the day, I want to change my mind.  It’s going to be another warm one.  A friend asks me if I’m “holding up.”  I want to lie.  I want to go running right then.  I want to give it all up (the break was nice.)  I want rice and beans like nobody’s business.  Still contemplating.  I go home and put some rice and beans on the stove.  I want to eat a corn tortilla with it.  With melted cheese on top. 

  I do it.  With cheese on the tortilla.  Just one.  

  I feel gross afterwards.  Thinking about the sodium content.  I want some water.  I am considering the exercise dvd.  

  I had a dream last night.  A running dream.  I’ve never had those before.  Ever.  But I’m running.  My heels are high, because for some reason, in the dream, a girl told me to do that.  I feel great.  I’m running effortlessly.  The wind is in my face.  Oksana is back. 

  I wonder sometimes if it’s unhealthy to name my alter egos.  Maybe that’s the first stages of schizophrenia.  Maybe one day, Oksana will split off…  

  More ridiculous thoughts, but now I am heading down the stairs.  Sneakers on.  Hair in a ponytail.  I’m just pushing myself.  No thoughts of turning back.  

  I take a different route.  Towards the orchards.  I have my cell phone in my pocket, set on a timer.  I need to buy a watch.  Only later, I realized I forgot what I set my timer to.  It doesn’t matter.  As soon as I’m off the grass, I’m jogging.  I don’t know the difference between jogging and running.  I don’t care.  I’m not walking.  

  I’m not counting my breaths.  Not all the time, anyway. 

  I’m not setting little goals on the path.  No “just a little bit until that tree with the bump on it…”  Not all the time, anyway.  

  For part of the time, I’m closing my eyes, feeling my breath, feeling my hair swish behind me.  I almost think I like it.  

  I am not talking to myself.  In fact, I can’t tell you much of what I was thinking.  I was just…  running.  Only once did I get off groove, and that was when an SUV passed me on that tiny road.  I don’t know how long I ran, or what the distance is.  Estimate: 2.0 miles.  Time: 23 minutes.   I’m thinking it’s more than 2 miles… maybe 2 and 3/4.  And I walked for a 3/4 mile.  But compared to my first time out, I’m ok.  I almost ran the whole time.  I shaved minutes off my first out, and that was when I was just speed walking all the time.  

  

  I am beginning to think this isn’t so bad at all.  I think I pushed myself way to hard the first time out.  With too many lookers.  This time, on the lonely road, with my eyes closed, and barely the feeling of my feet hitting the ground.  It’s not a dream, but it’s the start of one. 

  And the Mount Kilamanjaro stairs of the last week?  Not a passing thought today.  

   

  Click here for my first day out. 

  • 7:55 pm
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