This was really not that big a deal to either of us, so we were pretty dang sore, so what. We were actually kind of proud, in a rite of passage sort of way, about our first pair of worn out running shoes. It was like a nod from the running Gods that we had some serious stick-to-itiveness. Now, if only the Powers That Be would pony up the cash for the new Zips by Z. But whatever, while walking the rest of the run we both vowed to
a. get some new shoes at a specialty running store without an ounce of shame, and
b. set a new goal
Again, a nice feather in my cap that while I was struggling to finish a piddly three mile walk, we were making plans to try a 15k in May.
And then we bumped into one of the coaches of our running group. His name is Dick. We told Dick about our idea to shoot for the 15k in May, and Dick was a big ole downer. He told us we were biting off more than we could chew and that we needed to get our speed up and try some more 5k's before tackling the 15k. He went on to say once we got some more weight off and got faster then maybe we could try another 10k later in the year. Then Dick took off running down the street and left us hobbling in his skinny ass, old geezer Dick dust. After, dissing Dick, his skinny chicken legs and crappy coaching attitude, Kelly decided that if we were living in a Seinfeld episode, Dick would be our Newman. Hello, DICK.
That definitely helped to assuage any leftover downer dips from Dick. Kelly thought we should contact our beginning runner's program coach Tom, (all we need now is a Harry to complete the set) and ask him if our goal was too lofty, because we don't want to hurt ourselves but we realized that we are more likely to stick with it if we have a goal, AND if we could go from running a 5k in November to a 10k in January SURELY a 15k in May wouldn't be that big of a stretch - right? Tom agreed. He thought we could totally go for it but that we needed to start working on more hills - which if we want to keep running in Asheville we'd better get our hill on anyway. He also pointed out that EVERYONE wants to get faster. I suppose that'll be true for me at some point. At this juncture, however, I'm just a big fan of crossing the finish line before they take it down. So far so good. Furthermore, we went from running a 15 minute mile in November's race to running a 13 minute mile in January. So me thinks if we keep at it we'll get there regardless. And there we have it, new goal in place.
Now I told you all of that so I could tell you all of this...
Last night I opted to go to the YW instead of running because I think it's good to shake it up a bit and I figured a different kind of cardio and maybe some light weight training would only help. I picked a boot camp class. I have many of the Billy Blanks Boot Camp DVD's, and I like them because they are effective, Billy is always encouraging, he gives you high or low impact options, and he blesses you, the viewer, at the end of each workout. Color me cheesy, but sometimes looking forward to the "Billy Bless You" at the end helps get me through it.
ANYWAY. I walk in to the class and this young bebopping 20 something of an instructor starts us off with side to side jumping squats - RIGHT AWAY. This is how she opens the class, and tells us we have to keep it up for two minutes without stopping. Mind you this class, as are most of the classes, is designated for ALL fitness levels. So I'm thinking, "Surely she'll offer a low impact option" because for the first time in a while, I am not the biggest gal in the room and I sure as shit ain't the youngest. Nope. Little Miss Jumping Bean proceeded throughout the hour of torture without offering one iota of encouragement or option to her over the top exercises. At one point she started jumping from side to side OVER a block on the floor - two feet to two feet - something NOBODY in the class could do from the get go much less for two minutes straight.
I have enough knowledge in my noggin from my days as a former Pilates instructor, dancer and student of Anatomy to know this is a recipe for disaster and potential serious injury. So I checked my disgust and ego and started doing low impact versions of what Ping Pong Girl had to offer, there were even a couple of the ladies that followed my lead after that, which made me feel not only welcome but that I was potentially helping to save their knees as well as my own.
Then another wave of disgust hit me, I caught my exercising reflection in the mirror. Whoa. The first uncontrolled thought that leaped into my head was, "Wow, where'd I go?" Because the last time I took a good hard look in the mirror to make sure I was doing things correctly for my body was about 10 -12 plus years ago, when I was still dancing hard core and scrutinizing every last cell of every move I made in class. It occurred to me later that evening that I don't miss those days, and this is probably why the only full length mirror in my house is conveniently tucked behind a door that hides said mirror 99% of the time. Perhaps it isn't all together healthy to avoid looking at all of myself, but I swear when I do it pokes a big hole in my motivation. So for now, the full length mirror will stay in exile.
It was also at this point that I realized I really like running. I like it a lot. There are no mirrors. I have a buddy that goes as fast as I do and the stuff we talk about runs the gamut from silly to serious, and sometimes we just run and enjoy listening to the pace and rhythm our feet make together as we pound the pavement. Then there's the whole fresh air element, and the endorphins don't suck either. It's really the gift that keeps on giving. I can drive the 6.2 miles I ran last weekend and think to myself "Damn girl, you ran this summumabiznitch, and that shit is awesome!"
Going to class like Be-bopping Boot Camp in a room that smells like Lady feet and stale sweat while bouncing up and down to some obscure Grateful Dead wannabes just can't compare.
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