Posts Tagged ‘Things I’ve Learned About Myself’

  1. Can I call myself a runner now?

    January 21, 2011 by ChiaLynn

    I have never been a runner. In high school, when they’d make us run a mile, I’d walk it. The summer I was 15, I rode my bike 20 miles a day, and I still didn’t run. It was uncomfortable, it was unpleasant, and I didn’t like it.

    A couple of years ago, though, when Slackmistress started the Couch to 5K program as part of her Post-Apocalyptic Workout, I thought, “Maybe I could do that.” And I tried it, and sometimes it wasn’t too bad, but mostly my shins hurt and my knees complained and even when I got my boobs properly strapped in (with the help of an industrial-style sports bra that holds everything firmly in place, but also shapes it into a rocket-nose-cone that any 50s sweater girl would envy), I could feel my belly pudge jiggling and it freaked me out, so I mostly walked.

    Then came the 2009 Tevis, which I crewed for my dad. Over the course of the weekend, I discovered that running on dirt didn’t hurt the way running on asphalt does, and I started doing the occasional run on the beach. It wasn’t until I started reading about barefoot running, though, that I realized why running on dirt was different. It wasn’t because it’s a softer surface – it’s because when I run on uneven ground, I don’t land on my heel. One pair of Vibram FiveFingers later, I was running more often, even on concrete, with much less discomfort. I even started getting used to the way things jiggle.

    Last fall, NovySan and I started running every night – just a mile, and if I’m being honest, I have yet to run that whole mile. I’ve discovered it’s much easier for me to run fast than slow, but I can’t keep up the pace for a mile. So, I sprint, then I walk, then I sprint some more, and over time, I’m not only managing longer sprints, I’m also getting stronger, which helps me jog more comfortably as well.

    I’ve had no knee pain in a long time – all those hours in the gym have definitely paid off in that respect. But the shins have had many, many things to say to me, all of them unpleasant. Google tells me that’s due to tight calf muscles, which I definitely have, so I’ve been stretching them and it’s been helping, but I obviously haven’t been stretching them enough, because Sunday night, half a block into my run, I felt as though someone had stabbed me in the calf with a hot knife.

    It wasn’t a cramp. It was a strain, and thankfully a mild one. Five days later, it’s still sore, but I’ve been able to walk a bit and I went to KungYo Wednesday night without ill effect. Actually, the yoga helped a lot.

    What makes me think I can call myself a runner now, though, despite not being very good at the actual running part, is that this is the first sports injury I’ve ever had, if I define a sports injury as an injury received as a result of physical activity, which makes it impossible or difficult to continue doing that activity until it heals. And my reaction to receiving said injury was an internal moan of, “But… but… This means I can’t run for at least a week! And what about KungYo? No, I’m going to KungYo, even if all I can do is sit on the sidelines and watch. I wonder how long I should wait before I get back on my bike, or the elliptical? Aw, man, I was really looking forward to BodyCombat, too!”

    Come to think of it – maybe I’m not just a runner. Maybe I’m actually an athlete.

    Category Random Babbling | Tags: ,,, | 6 Comments

  2. Gardening, and other things that other people do.

    February 14, 2010 by ChiaLynn

    I don’t like to do things that I don’t already know how to do.

    Part of the reason, of course, is a fear of looking ridiculous trying to do something I’m not good at. (Particularly if I’m trying to do it in front of a bunch of teens who hate me because I’m not good at it, but that’s another story.)

    Part of it, though – and this is something I’ve just recently realized – is a feeling that that thing I don’t know how to do, but that other people do? Is something that other people do.

    “I’d like to knit, but I don’t know how. That’s something that other people do.”

    “I’d like to dance, but I don’t know how. That’s something that other people do.”

    “I’d like to speak French, but I don’t know how. That’s something that other people do.”

    (Not that I didn’t know I could learn to do these things. I did take French in high school, and I’ve spent nearly six years learning to bellydance. But in both those cases, I didn’t start learning until I found someone who already knew how to do this to teach me. And then I still had to get over the emotional hurdle of letting someone who did know what they were doing see me doing it badly – which is part of the reason I set out to teach myself to knit.)

    Gardening is one of those things I’ve always wanted to do, but I grew up in a place where almost nothing would grow, and from there I moved into a series of apartments (and killed a fair number of houseplants), and somewhere along the line, gardening became something that other people do.

    This weekend, though, I finally got tired of saying that I’d like to start working on the flowerbeds in front and planning the gardens in back. I spent two and a half hours yesterday tearing out a gardenia that NovySan’s allergic to (and really, Chia? Did you need to leave a bush that makes your husband sneeze right outside your bedroom window for seven or eight years just because it came with the house?), pulling out grass that’s invaded the rosebed, and trimming the jasmine around the front of the house.

    I tacked another couple of hours on today, with more weed pulling and trimming, and I even managed to transplant a couple of irises that have multiplied since they were planted and plant garlic around the roses, which is supposed to help them resist mites.

    NovySan, meanwhile, took down more than half of the giant prickly pear that’s shadowed the side of the house and menaced the neighbors for years, and discovered that the thick mat of grass growing around it was rooted more or less on itself. We’ve always assumed that walkway was dirt, but it’s not. It’s concrete, and cobblestone, covered with so much quackgrass that other plants had taken up residence and were flourishing, quite happily, without any dirt at all.

    The piles of displaced plant matter are mighty indeed. But we’re getting a handle on it.

    And gardening is no longer something that other people do.

    Category Random Babbling | Tags: ,,,,, | No Comments