I had a good streak going this winter.
"Oh my gosh, you RAN today?" co-workers would gasp on snowy days, telling me of how they had wiped out multiple times while walking the dog that morning.
I'd like to think I was modest about it, acknowledging that yes, it was indeed slippery, and that I'd just been lucky, though my worst spill ever was on dry ground, so go figure.
So it wasn't necessarily with confidence that I set out Saturday night, but it was with a sense of calm.
If only I'd been a jerk runner, I would have gotten the whole three miles in with only a small stutter or two.
But when I noticed a truck with a huge trailer trying to reverse out of a driveway, I decided that running on the sidewalk, instead of the better-maintained street, would be the safest route. Literally within yards, I lost it.
Unfortunately, I don't have any good bruises to share. It hurt the most on the right side of my ribs, and I checked periodically for evidence of my fall, but the only lingering proof is the tenderness when I blow my nose, stretch or laugh too hard.
The good news is, my phone was still alive when I fell, so if anything worse had happened, I could've called for help. Or I could've just asked the gentleman walking his dogs — whose barks either triggered my fall by startling me, or whose barks were mockery after I bit it — to save me.
Maybe next time I should take my chances with dodging the reversing trailer.
Showing posts with label ice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ice. Show all posts
Monday, February 17, 2014
Thursday, January 2, 2014
2013 run streak is in the books
It's official: Cory and I both won the 2013 Holiday Running Streak, and I can finally take a solid week off from running.
Last year's victory came with more of a sense of accomplishment, though: It was my first time, so I had doubts; Thanksgiving was earlier, so it took longer; and I suspect I did more longer runs.
I totaled 77.66 miles over 35 days, for an average run length of 2.2 miles. More than half of the days, I didn't break three miles (my mental milestone for a full run) — 16 single-mile days, plus three two-ish mile ones.
Cory and I agreed that we each had intended to rely less on single-mile runs, but this was definitely an example of life being what happens when you're busy making plans. Weather, travel, parties ... all legitimate reasons to not worry about getting more than one mile in.
And it's still a mile more than I might've run on the days when our highs were in single digits, when an ice storm struck Des Moines, when I spent all day unpacking my new apartment so I could cook for a Thanksgiving potluck at which I spent six hours, etc.
This year brought more fun in addition to more obstacles (and, um, six fewer days).
It's good to have online partners in this challenge, but it's more helpful to have a real-life partner with you — particularly on the days when you grumble that you really don't want to do this, and your partner reminds you there's always the option of just running to the half-mile mark though you'll probably want to keep going at that point.
(He's right, and he's actually punished for that because he is the one who wants to turn back at the half-mile mark, but you're loving the downhill route too much to remember how miserable the uphill return will be.)
The real-life buddy keeps you accountable when he's already gotten his run in for the day, while you've been procrastinating, or vice versa; and the real-life buddy will still laugh every time you're high-stepping through snow/tiptoeing around ice spots/rubbing feeling back into your frozen face and you say, "Man, this hobby sucks," or, "Why did we decide to do this stupid streak again?"
My real-life buddy and I concluded the streak together on New Year's Day, well before sidewalks were cleared in my neighborhood and also before most dog-walkers had been out to forge a trail for us.
It was like being a kid again, and we were already giddy at how close we were to finishing this streak when we heard honking and yelling — it was Zach and Chelsea, visiting friends waiting for us to get this one last run in so that they could see my new place and have brunch, driving somewhere to kill time by walking their dog.
Hooting and hollering about a quarter-mile from the end, no missed runs and no wipeouts at all? Sounds like a successful streak to me.
Last year's victory came with more of a sense of accomplishment, though: It was my first time, so I had doubts; Thanksgiving was earlier, so it took longer; and I suspect I did more longer runs.
I totaled 77.66 miles over 35 days, for an average run length of 2.2 miles. More than half of the days, I didn't break three miles (my mental milestone for a full run) — 16 single-mile days, plus three two-ish mile ones.
Cory and I agreed that we each had intended to rely less on single-mile runs, but this was definitely an example of life being what happens when you're busy making plans. Weather, travel, parties ... all legitimate reasons to not worry about getting more than one mile in.
And it's still a mile more than I might've run on the days when our highs were in single digits, when an ice storm struck Des Moines, when I spent all day unpacking my new apartment so I could cook for a Thanksgiving potluck at which I spent six hours, etc.
This year brought more fun in addition to more obstacles (and, um, six fewer days).
It's good to have online partners in this challenge, but it's more helpful to have a real-life partner with you — particularly on the days when you grumble that you really don't want to do this, and your partner reminds you there's always the option of just running to the half-mile mark though you'll probably want to keep going at that point.
(He's right, and he's actually punished for that because he is the one who wants to turn back at the half-mile mark, but you're loving the downhill route too much to remember how miserable the uphill return will be.)
The real-life buddy keeps you accountable when he's already gotten his run in for the day, while you've been procrastinating, or vice versa; and the real-life buddy will still laugh every time you're high-stepping through snow/tiptoeing around ice spots/rubbing feeling back into your frozen face and you say, "Man, this hobby sucks," or, "Why did we decide to do this stupid streak again?"
My real-life buddy and I concluded the streak together on New Year's Day, well before sidewalks were cleared in my neighborhood and also before most dog-walkers had been out to forge a trail for us.
It was like being a kid again, and we were already giddy at how close we were to finishing this streak when we heard honking and yelling — it was Zach and Chelsea, visiting friends waiting for us to get this one last run in so that they could see my new place and have brunch, driving somewhere to kill time by walking their dog.
Hooting and hollering about a quarter-mile from the end, no missed runs and no wipeouts at all? Sounds like a successful streak to me.
Monday, December 23, 2013
The ups and downs of the Holiday Running Streak
As it turns out, when I claimed the first run of the Holiday Running Streak was the toughest one, I was wrong. Or at least just not clairvoyant.
I actually almost broke my streak Friday. Almost.
The ice storm that day knocked out my power, and that in turn nearly knocked out my ambition to head outside and run a mile. (Holiday festivities meant I would not be able to do so after work, so it was now or never.)
Thankfully, the electricity was restored about an hour and a half before I had to be at work, and so was my desire to keep the streak alive. For as long as it took to reach the sidewalks, that is.
The first few steps were fine. The next few, and almost all the ones after that, were not. I eventually resorted to running back and forth on the snow-crusted grass — at least there was traction there.
Not my favorite run ever, but I got it done.
On the opposite end of the fun spectrum was last Monday's run ... or, rather, runs.
It was bitter cold when Regina and I met at Water Works Park, but because of "my stupid streak" (as she confided she thought), we still got three miles in. During the run, I received a call from a number I didn't recognize, so I didn't answer.
Once my phone came back from the dead, I discovered what the call was: The Cheese Shop telling me that two spots were open at that night's holiday beer class. My Christmas present for Cory had arrived!
It meant delaying his run further, from after work to after a plate of cheese and a dozen beer samples, but I think we both agreed it was worth it. Because I'm a good sport — and easily made to feel guilty — I agreed to run that single mile with him.
So off we went around 8:30 or 9 p.m. with recently filled bellies. The switch out of jeans and into (elastic-waisted) running pants felt good, and so did the laughter over how ill-advised this decision probably was. I even got a side stitch from giggling, which didn't feel physically nice, but I didn't mind.
More importantly, no one threw up, and most importantly, no one broke their streak.
I actually almost broke my streak Friday. Almost.
The ice storm that day knocked out my power, and that in turn nearly knocked out my ambition to head outside and run a mile. (Holiday festivities meant I would not be able to do so after work, so it was now or never.)
Thankfully, the electricity was restored about an hour and a half before I had to be at work, and so was my desire to keep the streak alive. For as long as it took to reach the sidewalks, that is.
The first few steps were fine. The next few, and almost all the ones after that, were not. I eventually resorted to running back and forth on the snow-crusted grass — at least there was traction there.
Not my favorite run ever, but I got it done.
On the opposite end of the fun spectrum was last Monday's run ... or, rather, runs.
It was bitter cold when Regina and I met at Water Works Park, but because of "my stupid streak" (as she confided she thought), we still got three miles in. During the run, I received a call from a number I didn't recognize, so I didn't answer.
Once my phone came back from the dead, I discovered what the call was: The Cheese Shop telling me that two spots were open at that night's holiday beer class. My Christmas present for Cory had arrived!
It meant delaying his run further, from after work to after a plate of cheese and a dozen beer samples, but I think we both agreed it was worth it. Because I'm a good sport — and easily made to feel guilty — I agreed to run that single mile with him.
So off we went around 8:30 or 9 p.m. with recently filled bellies. The switch out of jeans and into (elastic-waisted) running pants felt good, and so did the laughter over how ill-advised this decision probably was. I even got a side stitch from giggling, which didn't feel physically nice, but I didn't mind.
More importantly, no one threw up, and most importantly, no one broke their streak.
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