The last week got hectic for me and, consequently, my running program. My husband went out of town for a fishing trip in the literal middle of nowhere so I packed up baby and our more ridiculous dog, Ruby, and high tailed it to the mainland for four nights.
I had every intention of making good on my conviction last week that I would attend the Monday night clinic at the Denman Street Running Room, but Robbie had different ideas and demanded we return to my parents place early. For a just-about 8 month old, his negotiation skills are truly impressive. I was determined not to fall behind my running group, so I took Ruby out for a run around my parents neighbourhood.
Quick sidebar: Something you need to understand about Ruby is that she’s 16 months old, 80 pounds and touched in the head. She looks intimidatingly like a lab/shepherd cross, but she is frightened of most things including, but in no way limited to: people, children, other dogs (especially small ones), horses, new furniture, our chandelier, loud noises, and her reflection. She routinely falls off the couch. Her head is decidedly too small for her body. We do absolutely adore our furry little disaster, but I want to paint an accurate picture of what I was dealing with here.
I decided to attempt four cycles of 7/1 with 5 minutes of warm up and cool down. While the actual running was definitely a challenge that pushed me to my limits and left me whispering expletives under my breath, the real issue was Ruby darting all over the place like a drunk hummingbird. She also managed to slip out of her collar because an old man looked at her and was almost hit by a car. Despite this, we both survived and I was barely even waddling the next day.
I also missed running club on Wednesday night. I’m really more reliable than this week indicates, I swear. Give me a chance; I’ll totally prove it. To compensate for not running Wednesday, I took Ruby out for a run up at the family cabin at Horne Lake. I could only pull off three cycles of 7/1 before I thought I was actually dying. I blame Ruby’s childlike curiosity for giving my arms a massive work out and exhausting me sooner. This was the first time I’d run on trails/gravel and I felt a massive difference; it was much tougher than street running.
I ran alone twice last week and while I do enjoy running with gangster rap blasting in my ears, I found in much easier to convince myself that I’d done “enough” and that all that “quitters never prosper” stuff is probably an exaggeration. Running with a group is really motivating, even it’s just my desperate need for approval that drives me.
Sunday morning I got up bright and early and took Robbie and his stroller to run club at Running Room. There were six ladies there for 7/1s plus The Barnacle and I. They all knew each other and four were wearing matching shirts, but they were so friendly and welcoming that I was quickly at ease.
Again, the enthusiasm and encouragement of the group really helped me to push through my inner monologue that begins shrieking “STAHP” alarmingly quickly. There is definitely an added challenge with a stroller when running, but it’s not overwhelming with the stroller I have. I find it most noticible on hills, and in the back of my mind where I’m very aware that I’m propelling my baby forward as fast as I can manage. So far I haven’t accidentally flung him in to traffic so I’m calling it a win.
In my first post I talked about hoping that getting active would help trigger a “ripple effect” of healthier behavior in the rest of my life. So far my eating is what I would characterize as nutritionally precarious. I must be getting at least some vitamins and minerals, because I’m not actively dying, but there is a lot of progress to be made. Today I felt stressed out and sad so I ate four pop tarts*. That characterizes my diet plan fairly accurately. It’s a work in progress, but I did choose tea over hot chocolate on the ferry on Thursday morning, so I’m moving in the right direction. Also, I’m currently snacking on an “energy bar” that looks suspiciously like bird feed, no big deal.
Tonight marks the beginning of my third week of my running clinic. After last week’s chafing debacle, I treated myself to some Walmart running leggings. I’m pretty fancy. Looking forward tonight’s challenge!