All Hallows Nothing

I had had plans for Halloween.  It's true.  I'm a planner.  It drives D mad.

 Starting in late summer I had looked up ideas on the web, for spooky house decorations on a dime.  Cheap dollar store cobwebs, that sort of thing.  And I had found truly awesome photos of carved pumpkins that really got the Halloween spirit up.  The pumpkins at this site are awesome.  The author of one the blogs I follow, the Art of Doing Stuff, is a masterful carver. 



The Art of Doing Stuff



And Bobby could have been a shark.



Toys R' Us dogshark: it's a hammerhead!



 Or a dinosaur.  Because who doesn't want their own stegasaurus?



Target: there's also a little raptor outfit, which Bobby would also tear to pieces



There was no shortage of inspiration out there.   And I was in the festive mood myself.  I wore my bearhat all day at work on Halloween.  I'm not sure it was all right, but it was one day.  And its just a bear hat.  It took the office a good eight minutes to notice it at all.

But previously upon discussing Halloween in our neighborhood with the Neighbor Lady, I had been deeply disappointed to learn that no one, not even Neighbor Lady herself took her kids trick or treating on our block.  No one does that here, she informed me.  It's an older neighborhood, and apparently the generation of kids that grew up on the block were finished growing up a bunch of years back. 

So we didn't decorate, and we didn't dress up (except I was still wearing my bearhat.  I like my bearhat.  I like saying bearhat. Bearhat.).  But still D bought some candy (because what if some did come?) and last night on All Hallow's Eve, we turned on the lights and opened the shades and we waited.   

Nothing. 

It became evident that she hadn't been exaggerating.  After awhile we went outside stood in the dark, looking up and down the block at the row of houses whose facades were dark and unwelcoming.  Even people who normally had their porch lights on after dusk as a default had turned them off last night.  Ours was the only house with lamps lit, but nothing stirred in the dark.  It was so eerily quiet, maybe for the knowledge that there were groups of kids and parents out there, or should have been, but no sound could be heard except the rustling of the leaves in the trees.  Not once did our doorbell ring.  Our anticipation grew to disappointment, our mounded bowl of candy remained untaken.

That's not true, I had a mini-candy bar.  Two really. 

We brought the candy to our respective offices so that we don't eat three bags of halloween candy ourselves. 

After all, we are in training. 

Of course you wouldn't know we were in training.  We haven't done any actual training for over a week.  Maybe two weeks.  I've been out jogging perhaps twice in two weeks, but really only to get the dog out and to settle him down.  I've not really even pushed myself. 

I've overslept almost every day for the past two weeks.  Like a bear (bearhat) my body doesn't want to leave the den.  It's warm in bed.  It's not warm outside of the bed.  As someone who is almost always cold, it's not an easy thing to drag myself away from.  It's so comfortable.  And so I roll over and go back to sleep until I'm running quite late.  I daily leave the house with madwoman hair, spill hot coffee on self, and eat breakfast cereal out of sandwich baggies as I drive.   

So, I fell off the wagon.  Out of the saddle. 

I get a text from Runner's World every morning around the time I'm supposed to already be up and moving around.  They are supposedly inspirational but rarely stirring Quote of the Day texts.  And me, chronic oversleeper and at a post-wedding weight high (or a new low, it might more aptly be said), I truly was in need of some inspiration.   

I got it. 

"In the end I have to hold myself accountable. It is my career and my responsibility to do what I need to do to be the best I can be. I had to make a change if I really wanted to reach the goals I had set for myself. I had to get out of being comfortable and get into a situation that was going to really push me. "

Kara Goucher on joining the Oregon Track Club Elite group

That?  you're saying.  That is what inspired you to get out of bed at 630 and run in 33 degree weather with frost on the ground??

Actually, yes.* 

Back in the saddle again.

*Also Bobby guilt.  He hasn't gotten a jog since Saturday.  In retribution, two of my small terra cotta pots are gone.  He's taken to standing on his hind legs and pulling down pots and things from the railing on the deck.  I picked up the shards from one pot yesterday, as well as detrititus from other things he's ripped apart.  The other terra cotta pot is still missing. 

After All, Rule #1 is Cardio

I trained dog-less Saturday morning. (he got walkies afterward) 

I got up in the morning (hooray!) and jog-walked, starting out slowly, as several sources have advised me.  I find its so hard to catch my breath.  The internet (RunnersWorld, etc.) tells me this is because I need to slow my pace.  This is ...  I mean... I can't go any slower, my pace is laughable as it is. 

It just highlights how out of shape I am, I guess.  This is a serious flaw to any survival plan.  After all, we have all been taught that Rule #1 is Cardio. 

Other keen wisdom includes public restroom avoidance. 

If you are or have been a sedentary person, have you ever tried to start a running regimen?  Did you have frustrating early returns?  Were you totally embarrassed that the cars passing by could see your strange-gaited gallop?  Did you feel awkward about running in pajamas because you don't own running clothing?  Ladies, are you stymied by the prohibitively high cost of supportive sports bras?  (If you score higher than a B, the answer is yes.  And a lady has got to support her chesticles.  Lest in elder years she ends up looking like she taped two socks filled with quarters to her chest)

And so this is not only exercise, but in these the early days it is also an exercise in humility for me. 

I was so embarrassed about my performance that I wasn't sure I wanted to document it EVER.  Yet out of curiousity I went to Googlemaps and meticulously plotted the macrame-like route I jog/walked.  Hot damn, there and back again is one mile.  A mile!  I was shooting for manageable, and got a mile!  Of course Googlemaps tells me that I shall have been able to walk it in 20 minutes.  psh.  yeah.  If it were flat.  And... not so ... far. 

I mentioned that this past weekend would be a project weekend, and so it was.  I was quite proud of what D and my dad accomplished in a day and a half.  (I had projects of my own, though they didn't finish up in that time, so I'm not so proud of what I actually accomplished) 

Sunday morning was nice weather, but instead of jogging I (we, actually) had breakfast outside on the deck with my parents and wrestled with Bobby and Cricket as they crawled all over everything including us.  I thought I would take "a day of rest" from training on Sunday, as I was (mentally) worn a little thin.  I did begin a strength-training regimen consisting of some girl-pushups (which differ from boy pushups in that wimpy girls do them but buff girls and boys do not do them because they lack dignity) for obstacle course preparation.  I would begin anew on Monday. 

But my "day of rest" has come around to bite me in the arse.  Torrential downpour and thundering (and dog barking) woke me at around 330 this morning.  Four inches of rain fell in places around the city, flash flooding was reported in list-form on the news, and we once again have water intruding into our basement, the most severe incursion to date.   Worst was the north wall, the problem that we thought had been fixed.  The drainage pipes in the trench had been overwhelmed in the biggest rain of the year. 

So much work has been done to avoid this very thing, it doesn't seem fair.  Not sure what we'll do next.  I have lots of photos to post about the work that took place this weekend.  When I said torrential, I meant it.  It was the pelting kind of rain that descended in sheets.  I know, because I stood outside in it with the dog.  He thanked me by leaping onto one and then the other couch, muddy and wet.  That's gratitude.  Anyway, I'm sure there would have been more water if the work hadn't been done, but I can't help but feel a tad defeated.  Like it was all for naught (naught?  nought?  nougat?).

It's supposed to pour again tonight.  So I won't have time to jog, only to whisk the dog out, bring him in, feed him, and give him a brisk walk.  D But I will try to shake things up, thanks to uncooperative weather.  Stationary bike in basement.  A cardio alternative. 

• Cardio shirt is from Hot Topic, but has long since sold out, sadly.

Training: Early Days for Bobby & Me.

I'm doing it.  I've decided.  I don't know how, but I'm going to Indianapolis, and I shall elude zombies and clear obstacles and get to the finish, dead or alive.  





It's such a great idea, and it just sounds like so much fun.  I have to support it.  I've started talking to friends, seeing if they will join me.  I've got some nibbles, ambivalent interest.  We'll see.  But I'm doing it, even if I do it all by myself.  Obstacle training will be a challenge.  Maybe I'll have D play zombie and swipe at me while I dodge out of the way.  We could practice in the basement, and he could make zombie noises!  Of course, that's only the evasion portion of it.  If I have to do anything involving upper body strength I'd be in trouble.  I guess I could lift weights or something.  A plan is needed.  But for now, I'm working on the running itself. 

After all, it's a matter of survival. 

 

The front of this shirt says "if you see me running..."



Yesterday morning was the beginning of my training.  It went... not well.  

I had the motivation to get out there and start something, and I'm quite pleased about that.  I managed to get up early (don't laugh, I did! Unlike this morning), and as a chronic over-sleeper/snooze-button-abuser, this is quite something.  A repeatable achievement.  Anyway I readied myself.  I find that I was somewhat ill-prepared.

DISTRACTION:  I don't enjoy running for its own sake, so my mind needs to be occupied or the sound of gasping breaths and chortling onlookers will temper my enthusiasm.  But I haven't been able to find my mp3 player since we moved.  So I used my phone, which has a grand total of five songs on it.  This was a disaster because it was too bulky and heavy, and wouldn't stay in my pocket.  At one point it lemming-ed onto the sidewalk, busting my groove (but not busting the phone itself, happily). 

DOG (leash):  I chose poorly.  I chose the medium leash, which was not particularly bright (it was early).  Next time we go with the short leash.  Too much slack equals too much opportunity for a border collie to ignore.  I ended up with the leash wrapped multiple times around one hand, clutching at my phone in the other.  This is imprudent because when I needed to control the dog with both hands as I attempted to go past a section busy with morning traffic... ugh, let's just say it was both embarrassing and terrible.         

DOG (hisself): And then there's Bobby.  It is so hard to run with this dog. It's a challenge to walk with this dog, why did I think he'd just lope beside me with perfect etiquette because he was pleased to get a chance to run around outside?  He's so hard to control.. It isn't that he wants to trip me (surely).  I think he's just... dumb.  Even with the leash as short as I could make it, he still wound up weaving and veering underfoot until I had to pull constantly up and out on the leash to make a zillion constant corrections.  My outstretched arm felt like it was weighted with iron, and afterwards I ached shoulder to fingertips, but the dog didn't trip me.  Points for me.   

This is not sustainable.  I couldn't keep up any decent pace, nor even an indecent one.  Constantly correcting the dog so as to not get knocked over required concentration and moreover I quite often had to stutter stop altogether, or start to walk.  For all my exertions, and believe me I worked up a light sweat, I ran so intermittently that I'd be loathe to say I even ran at all yesterday.  Attempting to run in the morning is hard enough.  Training for a goal helps, but the tenacity to continue to train on a regular basis isn't innate, its something I will really have to push myself to do.  And if running is as hard as it was yesterday, it will be impossible to keep it up.  I won't want to.  My enthusiasm will only last so long, so Bobby has got to be better behaved on the leash.

I work with him whenever I have him on the leash, but he's not cured of his bad habits, nor am I cured of mine.  I get frustrated.  It'll take time.  I need something with a quicker payback.  People have told me that putting a prong collar on Bobby will make a new dog out of him.  I just don't want to fall on my face when we're walking/jogging together.  And if I need to buy even more canine accoutrement to accomplish this, I will, but dagnabit.  He already has more accessories than I do. 

I'll be trying to see if I can pick up a prong collar and test it out. 

In other news, this weekend is going to be a project weekend, including our second drainage/waterproofing project, and something for the basement.  We like to keep busy.   

• Zazzle zombie running shirt
• Zombies Hate Fast Food image taken from Tech Yuppie but its actually a shirt from Snorg Tees

I Could. I Ought. I ... Should?

Those of you who know me well know that I am not sporty.  I exercise because genetics are unfair and Polish genes have shaped me to be innately round.  Also I like beer.  And chocolate.  Exercise is a necessity, not to be entered into for enjoyment's sake.  Many's the time I have stated my personal credo, "If I'm running somebody's chasing me."

Sure, I swing dance.  I love it, it gets my heart pumping, it makes me smile.  But that's not exercise.  It's active, without being actual exercise unless you are competitive at it or do lots of Charleston (Note to self, why don't we do more Charleston?).  I think the fact that I enjoy it is indicative that I do not consider it sport-like. 

I don't like gasping for breath.  I don't like feeling like my heart is heaving out of my chest. 

I do like the endorphins though.  Me likey lots.

No one is more surprised than myself that I would ponder a sporty activity that requires sporty training.  But I am stirred and intrigued by something a friend posted on his fbook page just for a laugh. 

http://runforyourlives.com/

A footrace to outpace/outsmart zombies. 

I thought, brilliant!  'bout time someone did this! 

I could never do it though. 

... could I? 

Here is the premise from the website:

• Before the race, you will be given a flag belt, just like the overly intimidating game of flag football. These flags represent your health.
• The zombies want to take your flags and maybe eat your brains.
• If you lose all your health flags, you die. And the zombies win.
• Health bonuses will be hidden throughout the course. If you find one and carry it to the finish, it will save your life.

There's one in Indianapolis, which isn't far. 

 5K.  To run, or not to run? 

I was on the cross country team once upon a time (..in, um, middle school).  I wasn't very good, but to be honest I didn't train really either.  I showed up to the practices, but I didn't actually train when I didn't have to.  I did my darndest on race day, but my darndest was pretty lousy because I never practiced.

I surmise if I did actually train, I could do a 5K.  I've done them before.  I'm older and decrepit now, sure, but you can train for one safely in just a couple of months.  The internet says so, and it never lies.  (har har) 

There are websites just for people like me, who are beginners and want to train for a 5k.  Couch to 5k is one.    And this site, which looks the same, but isn't.  There is support information for diet and training plans/schedules and podcasts and all manner of things. 

There are running clubs in Cincy.  I could find one that is kind/sympathetic to flabby/lumpy beginners.  Run with them on the weekends. 

With the addition of Bobby I'm already out and active twice a day walking him (1.5 on average, some nights D does it, some mornings I oversleep).  If I'm out anyway, and I (kinda) already jog with him anyway, its just a little more time and effort than I'm already putting in... right? 

I'm not the only one who would benefit from some jogging.  Bobby could stand some jogging.  He can be a handful if he's not been properly tired out.  There's one difficulty with jogging with Bobby though.  He darts.  Without warning he darts left or right, lunging in front of my feet, making me trip.  Exercise is not my idea of a good time, but when you add a heightened risk of face-planting into blacktop, that's not exactly a compelling case for getting in shape.  Even if its at a super-fun-looking zombie event.  

When I give him less rope to trip me up, its less of a problem.  And maybe the problem will lessen with time.  A colleague reccommended I run him with a pronged collar.  The internet tells me that I could run with him hands-free, and because he's tethered to my waist instead of my arm, I am more grounded and he is less able to pull me off balance.  Hm. 

The 5K bit, its next year.  Plenty of time to prepare. 

The obstacle bit is daunting.  Ducking and weaving, vaulting and, dare I imagine it, climbing over things?  Am I a suburban-wife version of Ninja Warrior?  Well. No.  

But I could be...