(no subject)
aaah... My first run in what seems like ages. How long is an age? Because it's really only been since June, and since January when I was seriously "training."
That job at FedEx really king of wrecked things. Less than a week into it I had totally stopped running purely out of exhaustion. Three weeks into it I ran an 8 mile race, the second leg of a Coloardo Winter Distance Series, and did exceptionally well, which I accredit to using FedEx as some pretty intense cross-training. I quit that job shortly thereafter, but rather than jumping back into running I took time off to "recover." Late in February there was a ten mile race, the third and final leg of the series. Making the jump from being so over worked/trained I was ready to drop to being a total couch potato, as you might imagine, made my performance quite pitiful. What real runners would call "trash miles," run only for the sake of being able to record them in your training log. Discouraged, I didn't start really running again afterward. Some piddly little jogs about twice a week but no substance to any of it. Then I went to work for Monk and Lynda and found it, at first, to be challenging enough work to keep me pretty lean and mentally entertained, however not cardiovascularly fit. I ran about five times in the first half of June after moving into a tack room at the track, but not with any dedication, then found myself completely distracted from anything productive by men and din't run again until tonight other than once in Dodge the second week of September.
Maybe not as long as an actual "age," geologically speaking, but certainly long enough to forget that running is the cure for all things. The energized feelings lasting 1-3 hours afterward. Feeling taller, probably resultant of muscles long-slackened suddenly strung a little tighter. The immediately improved body image. The light, floating feeling as I'm coming back down. How small and manageable my many stressors suddenly seem.
In the morning I'll probably be discouraged again by my lackluster performance, evidence of my ever-competitive nature, but for now I'll focus on the euphoria, and try to remember it when my perpetual pre-run anxieties threaten to keep me inside tomorrow. Like a horse reluctant to leave the stall, nervous about going to the track, but really nice and sensible to gallop once you get them there, even kicking up it's heels a little out of enjoyment.
Something happened this morning that worries me a little bit. I've been trying to eat less while I've been home in order to get back down from 123 to something a little closer to riding weight. I lazed around in bed awhile after I woke up, then got up quickly. I nearly blacked out halfway down the hall, and it gave me a real sense of accomplishment. Back when I was into my eating disorder pretty hard, that was always a sure sign that I was on the right track to weight loss and I got to where I kind of enjoyed it, especially when I wasn't feeling actual stomach-hunger along with it. I liked it this morning. It felt good. It felt like an accomplishment. I felt light, and I liked my body more. I ate a bit after a while, and as the day wore on and I gave it some thought I worried a little bit because I don't know if I want to go down that road again. I want to make weight the right way, staying healthy and strong, not like Luark taking Lasix and looking sick all the time, or Doe, who gets most of his calories from beer and diet pills and flips every time he does eat something. I'm little enough I shouldn't starve for a living.
After I ran I felt like I was in control of that again, but it crossed my mind that maybe that was an illusion of the disorder, because back when I was into it I not only starved but exercised compulsively. Running, rather than being just enjoyable, also became my way of making up for all my "sins," caloric and otherwise. I wonder if the good, empowered feeling has more to do with my love of running or that other twisted thing it has been in the past.
Either way, I feel really good. We'll see how far I get along my training program this time. Goals: don't overtrain, cross-train, stretch
That job at FedEx really king of wrecked things. Less than a week into it I had totally stopped running purely out of exhaustion. Three weeks into it I ran an 8 mile race, the second leg of a Coloardo Winter Distance Series, and did exceptionally well, which I accredit to using FedEx as some pretty intense cross-training. I quit that job shortly thereafter, but rather than jumping back into running I took time off to "recover." Late in February there was a ten mile race, the third and final leg of the series. Making the jump from being so over worked/trained I was ready to drop to being a total couch potato, as you might imagine, made my performance quite pitiful. What real runners would call "trash miles," run only for the sake of being able to record them in your training log. Discouraged, I didn't start really running again afterward. Some piddly little jogs about twice a week but no substance to any of it. Then I went to work for Monk and Lynda and found it, at first, to be challenging enough work to keep me pretty lean and mentally entertained, however not cardiovascularly fit. I ran about five times in the first half of June after moving into a tack room at the track, but not with any dedication, then found myself completely distracted from anything productive by men and din't run again until tonight other than once in Dodge the second week of September.
Maybe not as long as an actual "age," geologically speaking, but certainly long enough to forget that running is the cure for all things. The energized feelings lasting 1-3 hours afterward. Feeling taller, probably resultant of muscles long-slackened suddenly strung a little tighter. The immediately improved body image. The light, floating feeling as I'm coming back down. How small and manageable my many stressors suddenly seem.
In the morning I'll probably be discouraged again by my lackluster performance, evidence of my ever-competitive nature, but for now I'll focus on the euphoria, and try to remember it when my perpetual pre-run anxieties threaten to keep me inside tomorrow. Like a horse reluctant to leave the stall, nervous about going to the track, but really nice and sensible to gallop once you get them there, even kicking up it's heels a little out of enjoyment.
Something happened this morning that worries me a little bit. I've been trying to eat less while I've been home in order to get back down from 123 to something a little closer to riding weight. I lazed around in bed awhile after I woke up, then got up quickly. I nearly blacked out halfway down the hall, and it gave me a real sense of accomplishment. Back when I was into my eating disorder pretty hard, that was always a sure sign that I was on the right track to weight loss and I got to where I kind of enjoyed it, especially when I wasn't feeling actual stomach-hunger along with it. I liked it this morning. It felt good. It felt like an accomplishment. I felt light, and I liked my body more. I ate a bit after a while, and as the day wore on and I gave it some thought I worried a little bit because I don't know if I want to go down that road again. I want to make weight the right way, staying healthy and strong, not like Luark taking Lasix and looking sick all the time, or Doe, who gets most of his calories from beer and diet pills and flips every time he does eat something. I'm little enough I shouldn't starve for a living.
After I ran I felt like I was in control of that again, but it crossed my mind that maybe that was an illusion of the disorder, because back when I was into it I not only starved but exercised compulsively. Running, rather than being just enjoyable, also became my way of making up for all my "sins," caloric and otherwise. I wonder if the good, empowered feeling has more to do with my love of running or that other twisted thing it has been in the past.
Either way, I feel really good. We'll see how far I get along my training program this time. Goals: don't overtrain, cross-train, stretch