How should I spend the rest of 2015?

I think I've settled on how I'll spend the rest of 2015, at least when it comes to workouts.

After the Bix, my bunions had started to bother me, and so had the heat/humidity. "Sit out August," I told myself. "Don't wreck running for yourself; just enjoy summer."

Easier said than done, evidently. I've been crabby and sedentary lately, and you know what cures both of those things for me? Setting — then following — a running schedule.

So August will be twice-a-week runs, with a heavy emphasis on cross-training (yoga, bike rides, walks). Ideally one run would be shorter and more intense, while the other would be longer (four to six miles) and more relaxed.

If I could get myself started on the habit of doing some pushups twice a week and planks twice a week, that would be great. 

Even better would be distilling a short post-work yoga routine, created with my personal favorite poses from the various yoga videos/classes I watch/take. But that sounds like the kind of lofty aspiration that I excel in never attempting ...

By September, I hope to have started on at least one, if not both, new challenge: Capital Striders track workouts and mountain biking. 

Why mountain biking? So I can do the Dirty Duathlon in November by myself, instead of just being someone's runner.

I mean, running two miles on trails — with a break in the middle for someone to do 10 miles of mountain biking — won't exactly be a piece of cake, but it's just close enough to easy where I don't want to pay to do just that.

After Nov. 7, I see two routes. One is just kick back and relax until Thanksgiving, when I embark on the holiday run streak again. (This is the most likely option.)

The other is to keep up the trail running, even when it's gross — especially when it's gross — so I can take on the Sycamore 8 in December, no matter the conditions.

That's a bridge I'll cross much later. For now, it's time to finish my beer and hit the sack early to rest up for my first run since the Bix 7.

Cleaning is more dangerous than running

When this winter first started — seems so long ago — I had a co-worker look at me in disbelief when I mentioned having run despite the recent snow.

"You ran in the snow? I would be terrified to. I'd be waiting to wipe out."

In his defense, he dislikes running no matter what conditions, and he also works closely with a Texas transplant who's experiencing his very first Midwest winter ... and has several bruises to remember it by.

At the time, I admitted to a scary slip, during which my flailing arms made contact with the side of a garage, but insisted that my worst running spills had taken place in perfectly mild weather conditions.

I maintain that stance, after cleaning my apartment Sunday night and going on a run Monday morning before the rec paths were completely cleared of snow.

The minor injuries I sustained during the cleaning frenzy:

* A bruised instep on my left foot. This came from stepping on the vacuum cleaner's plug in bare feet, and resulted in the most pain I've experienced since introducing my IT band to the foam roller.

Wait, that's not totally true; the IT band stops feeling tender once I'm done rolling, while the instep was tender to the point of not putting all my weight on it for several hours after that.

* A stiff lower back. I'd thought that the cat's litterbox was growing empty enough where it would be easy to just toss all the old stuff and replace it with fresh, clean sand. And maybe I would've been right, if I hadn't poured the entire contents into a half-full garbage bag.

I could barely lift the whole thing out of the garbage can, and I'm not sure what miracle allowed me to raise it high enough to put into the Dumpster. (Yes, I know, "lift with your legs, not your back.") Fortunately, the bag didn't tear at any point, and I woke up with more foot tenderness than back soreness.

In contrast, during the 10 miles I ran, mostly on snowy paved surfaces, I only suffered a few startled lurches when one foot landed off the path and one foot remained on it. (The snow helped the path blend into the grass.)

Maybe once or twice my shoes didn't quite get traction on an icy uphill slog, and I definitely splashed through a shallow puddle once — so shallow, though, that the absorbent part of my shoes were in the clear.

Still, the worst that happened the entire time? My skin is probably windburned. But I put lotion on it after my shower, which I always do, and it felt normal a few hours later.

Which leads me to the conclusion in the title of this post. I won't give up cleaning, because I'm a neat freak, but for those of you who hate vacuuming and taking out the trash, feel free to use my stories as justification for avoiding those chores.

I believe in bribes

I like to bribe myself, especially when it comes to running. (I've been doing this since before reading Gretchen Rubin's advice to treat yourself like a cranky toddler, but now I feel vindicated.)

And I hit the treat jar jackpot last week when I took my friend Ashlee's recommendation to check out the Aveda Institute in West Des Moines.

It started when, a few weeks ago, I discovered that the unsightliness of my feet was growing too powerful for home exfoliation tools. In exchange for splurging on a professional pedicure, I told myself that I had to at least attempt the Holiday Run Streak.

The experience was well worth it — multiple soakings, two rounds of exfoliation, lotion and a seaweed/hot towel wrap, in addition to the uber-precise nail polish application — and became even more so when the student mentioned the massage room. Massage room?

At home, I spent a little more time on the services page of Aveda's website and discovered all the extra pampering available to me at incredibly reasonable prices: massages, yes, and also something called the Caribbean therapy foot reflexology.

This creaky, worn-down runner participating in one challenge and preparing to embark on another nearly salivated. I wanted it all, right then and there.

But how much more rewarding — and long-lasting — would it be if I just waited another month-plus? If I delayed it until I'd surpassed 900 miles for the year and until I'd done a mile a day from Thanksgiving to New Year's Day, wouldn't it be a bonus for my recovery efforts?

So I just have to be a diligent little runner for another six weeks. And then it's spa time.

Today I answer personal questions

The bloggers at Another Mother Runner wanted to make "10 Running-Related Personal Questions" go as viral as possible (their expression).

So because I love Dimity and SBS, despite not being a mother runner, and because it's been probably a decade since I filled out one of these and emailed it to all my friends/tagged all my friends in it, I'll pitch in with the viral effort.

1. Best run ever: It would be a tie between my second 10-mile effort, back in August 2009, and a short run sometime in the spring of 2009.

The 10-miler took me on country roads in western Winnebago County and was surprisingly comfortable, giving me the confidence that I could indeed run a half marathon within a month and not die/want to die doing it. (Also, the Arny Johnson 10-miler this spring felt fantastic.)

The short run was in central Wisconsin in the early spring, at my beloved Schmeekle Reserve — I had been pretty grouchy about life in Rockford, so I drove up to my sister's college town for a change of scenery.

It was actually snowing on me as I ran through the woods, but the flat terrain (plus the refreshing cool air and pine needle scent) made me realize running could feel good. Major turning point for me.

2. Three words that describe my running: Surprising, unglamorous, encouraging.

3. My go-to running outfit is: Either one of my Target T-shirts is fine, but the black shorts are my favorite, because they don't show the sweat like the blue ones do.

Balega socks, my orthotic inserts and a Kleenex tucked somewhere are absolute musts. A sweatband and sport sunglasses are preferred but optional, given the conditions.

4. Quirky habit while running: I don't — won't — listen to music while on a run. If I were on a treadmill/indoor track, I might, but I also avoid both of those things like the plague.

5. Morning, midday, evening: Whenever fits with my work/social schedule and the weather. There are reasons to love runs at any time of day!

6. I won’t run outside when it’s: Sunny and/or hot and/or humid. That's my Viking blood speaking.

7. Worst injury — and how I got over it: Bunions and weak foot/ankle joints, which are all genetic but mitigated significantly by wearing custom-made orthotics (thanks, Dr. Pandya!).

Knock on wood, I haven't been injured from an accident or wear and tear yet.
 
8. I felt most like a badass mother runner when: At the Alexandria Running Festival Half Marathon over Memorial Day 2011, I PR'ed, did NOT have a GI tract crisis and managed to finish before the sun and humidity broke through the clouds.

I ran the race with three friends and beat all of them, even though they all have much longer strides than I do, and as I chowed down on a delicious bagel afterward, felt so chipper that I said: "Let's do that again!"

They may have punched me.

9. Next race is: TBD. Kicking around the Des Moines Half and am very likely to do the Living History Farms Race, particularly if a co-worker peer-pressures me into joining her.

10. Potential running goal for 2013: I've thought more about my biking goal — to do RAGBRAI — than my running goal for next year.

This may be the Google Reader subscription to Competitor.com and the magazine subscription to Runner's World speaking, but it crosses my mind every so often that I should try to improve, not just to keep going. So maybe adding a little more technical training wouldn't be a bad goal.

My standby goal is to do a half marathon without feeling miserable. Because I'm not a hard-core dedicated runner, I don't aim — or expect —  to PR at any distance, but because I've encountered enough race-day suffering, I do put in work (and prayers) to hopefully avoid throwing a temper tantrum and demanding a car ride home.

Confession: I break rec path traffic rules

During a generally unremarkable six-miler along the Clive Greenbelt Trail, I heard the following warning from a rider: "On your right."

Nope, this biker wasn't offroading, or perfecting her precision by sharing a lane with me. I had once again broken a cardinal rule of rec path use and failed to stay in the right lane.

I'm a drifter. I can't help it.

Often, I can correct myself, if it's oncoming traffic, and swerve out of the left lane. But when the passer is behind me, I'm figuratively caught with my pants down.

(Figuratively is a key word here, because outdoor runners sometimes must do things that require their pants to be literally down.)

During one of my first Des Moines runs, I had a rather breathless conversation with a friendly older gentleman about this issue. Congenital foot problems, and why I still run despite those problems, aren't something one can generally explain in passing with an elevated heart rate, but I tried.

First of all, my bevy of foot problems are for once not to blame. In this case, my podiatrist in Rockford told me, it's that one of my legs is shorter than the other.

Not at a level where it's visible to laypeople or where it needs surgical/orthotic correction. Just enough to create the wobbly stool effect — which would mean my left leg is the extra-short one, if that's how I'm leaning.

Soon after my latest noob-in-appearance-but-not-mind moment, Mark Remy posted his ticket for running violations. I clicked on the link with much joy, because I love Mark Remy, but with much trepidation, because part of me didn't want to find out what else the veteran runners were hating me for doing.

Good news: Lane violations didn't appear in Remy's post or the comments section. The folks passing me on the right don't seem nearly as irate as drivers who have to pass on the right on the highway (not, um, that I would have ever caused that to happen).

Maybe this infraction isn't as severe as I thought. Or maybe everything else about me just screams rookie and my comrades feel sorry for me.

Regardless, if you're ever the passer in this situation, spare a little sympathy for that person who might be an experienced, but slightly physically deformed, runner.

Seen while running: Week of July 15

Today's "seen while running" post is a mix of imagery and actual images ... can't get the camera phone out for everything, nor should I, in some cases.

Someone's driveway decorations. My hometown isn't close to many big-name football universities. The college I attended? Let's just say that the few fans at games liked to taunt the opposition by yelling our ACT scores, not the football score. The passion for the Hawkeye-Cyclone rivalry is a fascinating and confusing thing for me to observe.

Seen, but not photographed: in the neighborhood south of my apartment complex, a car in a driveway with its backseat doors open.

When the smell of an Abercrombie & Fitch fought its way through the thick humidity and to my nose, I realized that the figures in the back of the car were likely teens trying to make out. Sorry for staring (or, as I wasn't wearing contacts, for squinting intently).

Another image that reminds me of home — Rock Valley College is our community college.

A poorly lit picture of drought. For comparison, see what Walnut Creek looked like before July 1 here.

Seen, but not heard: at dusk along the heavily wooded, winding Clive Greenbelt path, a biker who whizzed past and scared the crap out of me. The squeak of his bike reached me just as he did, without a single "on your left."

My high-pitched, breathless "oh gosh!" and melodramatic, yet involuntary, hand to my throat did not teach him anything, apparently. When I came upon walkers a few minutes later, I asked them whether they'd seen and/or heard the biker; one told me that she had to yell at him for his silent approach.

My foot, after a 6-foot-tall man wearing heavy boots stepped on my ballerina flat-clad foot. Note the bruise on the bunion joint. This, fortunately, did not impede my running.

Seen while running: Week of July 1

On my way to the Clive Greenbelt path, this is what I see (in addition to everyone stoppin' and starin' at me):

Every time I pass this, I think it's an abbreviated expletive aimed at the city of Clive. If anyone knows what it really is, please do share.

Is this a squash shell? Whatever it is, it's been hanging around for about a week now.

And then once I was there, I spotted these things:

I too was tired when I snapped this photo. Did someone create this graffiti after watching me slog by recently?

Oh hey, I ran all the way to Chicago! In 88-degree weather, no less. Definitely warrants a leap into the lake.

Back home, after a post-half PR of 6.5 miles, I found this. Scratch "foot model" (or LMFAO music video extra) off my list of career possibilities.

Left foot, covered in popped blisters. I didn't even know I had those.

Right foot, covered in blisters and topped with calluses. Friday night fun, this particular evening, was exfoliating.