So it's been awhile, eh? I bet y'all thought I'd quit, a'cause of the title of this blog and stuff. Faked you out pretty good, didn't I?
Okay, I jest. I was having a conversation with a friend the other night and we were talking about blogging and I said "Yeah, I used to have a blog about how I quit everything and then I quit writing in it".
Once those words came out of my mouth (and everyone laughed at them because hey, they're funny) I realized how silly that was and so here I am!
I've also been terrible about reading your blogs, but I'll try to be better about that as well. For awhile, I was really trying to avoid internetting at work but it hasn't seemed to up my productivity much, so I'm onto other avenues.
I will be honest, I did kind of quit running for a bit after Falmouth. It's dang cold here in Boston, and I am an unrepentant klutz and fall down enough just walking on ice. So I switched to primarily weightlifting, and I feel pretty darn good about it. In six weeks, I've increased my squat from 50 to 85 pounds and my deadlift from 75 to 115. I feel energized and my clothes fit better and my posture is awesome. I've been following the program from this book, and I love it. The nutrition advice, not so much, but it's really hard to eat that much and get all that protein!
However, I have been itching for another challenge, and courtesy of my friend M, I think I've found it - a wacky 12-person relay race. Timewise, it fits really well with the training plan for the Run to Remember half-marathon, which my friends J & A are planning on running. I ran it last year, and made a pretty poor showing due to major ITB, and that's not going to happen again this year.
Despite how dejected I get at my unshakable slowness, I kind of like collecting those race numbers and sticking them on my wall, dangit.
In addition to all that, I'm taking a ballet class at the L Street Gym on Tuesdays. It's been a long time since I danced, and let me tell you, you think you're in shape from doing one thing and then three minutes of tondues and bourres kick your butt. I did get upgraded from the Beginner class to the Intermediate class after my first Beginner session, but we'll see how that goes. I took ballet for over 8 years and could never figure out what to do with my arms.
My non-fitness related pursuits include banditing grad school for one more semester (11 memoirs in 12 weeks, 11 3-page papers, 1 45-minute presentation, 1 20 page research paper, 1 big "what have I gotten myself into?"), my recent guitar purchase (I used to play and then, big surprise, quit) and mandolin aquisition (it came free with the guitar), and decision to Julie & Julia my way through this cookbook.
Hope you'll join me in my quest to not quit any of these things in the coming year, or quit this blog.
Showing posts with label quitaholism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label quitaholism. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Monday, May 25, 2009
Race Report : Boston's Run to Remember half-marathon
The good news : Finished. Didn't collapse.
The bad news : 2:22:32
A loud thunderclap woke me up at 6am yesterday. Then the lightning came. I got grumpy and slept too late. By the time I rushed out the door, it was actually quite nice out, and during the race it was clear, warm, and sunny. A little too much so at times.
I started off at a 8:15/mile pace for the first two miles, according to the mile splits. Once I realized that, I slowed way down, but the damage had already been done. I haven't run a mile that fast since the 7th grade. Around mile 9 I started walking. Ugh. Most walk breaks I kept to 10 seconds or so, but I walked across the entire Longfellow bridge. My brain just quit on me. I'd be giving myself these great peptalks to keep going, and then my legs would just stop running! I was all "Dude! Legs! WTF!" but they just weren't listening. Neither was my stomach or my lungs. They were all like "Nope. We're donecakes. Mind over nothing."
I'll try and give myself credit since I haven't been able to walk without a limp until about a week and a half ago, and trained through ITBS (dumb), but it's still frustrating.
On the upside, I felt a lot better after this one than after the first. I managed to take a shower and have brunch with my friends and go to a BBQ and not take any naps! Maybe that's an endurance event in itself.
The bad news : 2:22:32
A loud thunderclap woke me up at 6am yesterday. Then the lightning came. I got grumpy and slept too late. By the time I rushed out the door, it was actually quite nice out, and during the race it was clear, warm, and sunny. A little too much so at times.
I started off at a 8:15/mile pace for the first two miles, according to the mile splits. Once I realized that, I slowed way down, but the damage had already been done. I haven't run a mile that fast since the 7th grade. Around mile 9 I started walking. Ugh. Most walk breaks I kept to 10 seconds or so, but I walked across the entire Longfellow bridge. My brain just quit on me. I'd be giving myself these great peptalks to keep going, and then my legs would just stop running! I was all "Dude! Legs! WTF!" but they just weren't listening. Neither was my stomach or my lungs. They were all like "Nope. We're donecakes. Mind over nothing."
I'll try and give myself credit since I haven't been able to walk without a limp until about a week and a half ago, and trained through ITBS (dumb), but it's still frustrating.
On the upside, I felt a lot better after this one than after the first. I managed to take a shower and have brunch with my friends and go to a BBQ and not take any naps! Maybe that's an endurance event in itself.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
TiART : Steeplechasing life
For my first Take it and Run Thursday, it seems appropriate that this week's theme is "Running Through Transitions", as I've consistently struggled with keeping on track during transitions of many kinds, and also as I'm devising my training/running plan for the coming winter months to ensure I don't let myself get derailed by life's little surprises.
There was a time, not too long ago, when I glibly listed my weaknesses as "wildberry skittles, younger men, and quitting." Hence the title of this blog. It's a strange affliction to have, and probably even stranger to realize and label like that. Hello, my name is Tess, and I am a recovering quitaholic.
Not only was it impossible for me to stick to anything, I enjoyed giving up on it. Every difficulty, every transition in life, was an excuse to drop something. Whether it be a college class (I dropped out twice, switched schools and switched back, shuffled my schedule so often each semester that I'd attended about 20 different classes in the first two weeks of school), a job (I've had some doozies), boyfriends (more doozies), apartments, even leaving a boring party without telling anyone gave me some sort of strange rush. I even took up smoking (GROSS) for a year just to prove I could quit cold turkey.
Running - exercise in general, was always a victim of my quitaholism. Any time I was going through any kind of challenge in life, I always quit exercise. And with all the transferring, and moving, and breaking up I was apparently doing during the college years, I had an endless stream of excuses to stop my almost-blossoming running habit, which at the time was just a couple pitiful weekly jogs around Beaver Lake and a dreamy notion of how awesome it might be to run a WHOLE 5K.
Fast forward to well, now, and I'm four days off running my first half marathon, and idea that six years ago (heck, five days ago) seemed not only impossible but laughable. Even mythical, like unicorns and sea creatures. But I did it, after not even a year of running steady. And I somehow started running for real on the cusp of what ended up being a staggering stream of transitions, and kept on running through all of them.
I left a job and started a new one, moved apartments (and was homeless for a month), went through the worst breakup ever, had my next apartment explode and was homeless again for another month, lost a couple close friends, awkwardly regained some, and too many other strange and twisting changes to mention. Somehow, for the first time, I managed to run through them all, instead of using them as excuses not to run. And now, instead of wanting to quit when the going gets tough, I want to run.
Go figure. When the going gets tough, the tough get running.
I've started looking at life not as a highway (zing, Tom Cochrane!) where every challenge is an opportunity to take the nearest exit and get some McDonalds, but as a long steeplechase where challenging transitions are more like water hazards or hurdles. Without the momentum I get from running, I wouldn't be able to scale the obstacles in my path.
This post was written as a part of
Take it and Run Thursday, courtesy of Runners' Lounge.
There was a time, not too long ago, when I glibly listed my weaknesses as "wildberry skittles, younger men, and quitting." Hence the title of this blog. It's a strange affliction to have, and probably even stranger to realize and label like that. Hello, my name is Tess, and I am a recovering quitaholic.
Not only was it impossible for me to stick to anything, I enjoyed giving up on it. Every difficulty, every transition in life, was an excuse to drop something. Whether it be a college class (I dropped out twice, switched schools and switched back, shuffled my schedule so often each semester that I'd attended about 20 different classes in the first two weeks of school), a job (I've had some doozies), boyfriends (more doozies), apartments, even leaving a boring party without telling anyone gave me some sort of strange rush. I even took up smoking (GROSS) for a year just to prove I could quit cold turkey.
Running - exercise in general, was always a victim of my quitaholism. Any time I was going through any kind of challenge in life, I always quit exercise. And with all the transferring, and moving, and breaking up I was apparently doing during the college years, I had an endless stream of excuses to stop my almost-blossoming running habit, which at the time was just a couple pitiful weekly jogs around Beaver Lake and a dreamy notion of how awesome it might be to run a WHOLE 5K.
Fast forward to well, now, and I'm four days off running my first half marathon, and idea that six years ago (heck, five days ago) seemed not only impossible but laughable. Even mythical, like unicorns and sea creatures. But I did it, after not even a year of running steady. And I somehow started running for real on the cusp of what ended up being a staggering stream of transitions, and kept on running through all of them.
I left a job and started a new one, moved apartments (and was homeless for a month), went through the worst breakup ever, had my next apartment explode and was homeless again for another month, lost a couple close friends, awkwardly regained some, and too many other strange and twisting changes to mention. Somehow, for the first time, I managed to run through them all, instead of using them as excuses not to run. And now, instead of wanting to quit when the going gets tough, I want to run.
Go figure. When the going gets tough, the tough get running.
I've started looking at life not as a highway (zing, Tom Cochrane!) where every challenge is an opportunity to take the nearest exit and get some McDonalds, but as a long steeplechase where challenging transitions are more like water hazards or hurdles. Without the momentum I get from running, I wouldn't be able to scale the obstacles in my path.
This post was written as a part of
Take it and Run Thursday, courtesy of Runners' Lounge.
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