Category Archives: Fitness

52 Weeks, 52 Runs. No. 6: Riding in buses with runners

Posted on February 7, 2012 | 19 comments

A diabolical duo of DIY runs these past two weeks proved what I already knew: unless there’s T-shirts, assorted malty beverages, and a crowd to propel me forward (fear of shame is a great motivator), I’m an epic failure as a runner. So I was excited to get back to my regularly scheduled 52 Weeks, 52 Runs programming by suiting up for the Super Sunday 5 in Cambridge, MA. I figured at the very least, the race would erase from my mind the ignominy of the great treadmill and wind debacles of 2012.

Super Sunday 5

And we're off. The slightly blurry start (for all) and finish (for most).

In addition to its shame-eradicating properties, Sunday’s event promised beer and general Super Bowl Day merriment (with music courtesy of BearFight, “Boston’s premier hard-rock party band”). Also, it benefited Target Cancer, Cycle Kids, East Cambridge Little League, Broad Institute, and LIVESTRONG. Reasons enough to come out in the cold. But what really sealed the deal for me was the presence of the famed Boston party bus The Bustonian.

Super Sunday 5

Hmmm, which to choose?

The race was ostensibly a five-miler, but organizers wisely figured that some people (i.e., me) might want to ditch after 3.1, so the rockin’ bus was there – complete with festive lighting and party music – to transport us back to the start.

Can I have The Bustonian on standby every time I do a race? It’s the dream!

I was a bit sad that I didn’t just get to ride the bus with a cold one (beer, not vampire) for the duration of the 5K, but I guess this 52 Weeks, 52 Runs challenge requires me to, you know, run …

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Running the numbers: My story so far. In pictures

Posted on February 6, 2012 | 24 comments

I’ve reached a milestone. In the past seven months, I’ve somehow managed to run 20 5K races. I’m wheezing even thinking about it. I know this is a jog around the block for serious runners. But for me, who previously collapsed in a heap after two minutes on the treadmill, it’s huge.

It hasn’t been pretty (my redder-than-the-sun face is testament to that). But I thought it deserved a little (graphical) round-up. Why not! …

Stride and Joy. The story so far

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52 Weeks, 52 Runs. No. 5: This really blows

Posted on February 1, 2012 | 23 comments

I have discovered something worse than hills. And treadmills.

There was a dearth of organized runs this past weekend, but I am committed to my 52 Weeks, 52 Runs plan. Rather than take to the treadmill again (savvy readers will recall how well that turned out), I decided to invoke yet another made-up rule:

4. If I’m traveling and no runs exist, and I don’t have a gym to go to, I can as a last resort huff and puff on my own.

Sure, I’m not traveling, and I certainly have a gym, but it’s my challenge and I can bend the rules if I want to. So Hubby and I decreed that we’d huff and puff on our own. Specifically, we decided to run/walk the Quincy Half Marathon route (he’s running this race for real in March) and donate $25 to the American Cancer Society Daffodil Days program.

Half of Quincy

Quincy (MA) Half Marathon route.

I was down with this plan, although at one point I said to my running buddy: “You do realize this is going to take HOURS!”

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My tootsies roll. Apparently there’s a cure for that

Posted on January 30, 2012 | 24 comments

I can count on one hand the pairs of sneakers I’ve owned in the past 15 years. Actually, half a hand. Up until a few years ago, my athletic shoes rarely did anything remotely athletic. (In fact, I’m not even sure why I had sneakers in the Before Time – pre-running – other than to have something to wear with yoga pants during my brief and tragic flirtation with Pilates in 2004. But that’s another story.)

Running shoes

I have owned three pairs of sneakers in the past 15 years. This is one of them. Scroll up to see the third pair, bought late last year after I started running.

There’s no denying that runners need great shoes. Expert types say sneakers should be replaced every 350-400 miles, depending on how hard you run. Considering my rate, current achievable distance, and tendency to walk when things get tough, that’s good news for my footwear budget!

But I have never had a proper sneaker fitting. And I figured if I am going to continue to masquerade as a runner, I should at least do it in appropriate trainers. I have a hunch that my old method of shoe selection – “I’ll take the pink ones” – was slightly flawed.

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52 Weeks, 52 Runs. No. 3: The power of chowder

Posted on January 19, 2012 | 5 comments

I was miffed when Old Man Winter decided to drop by last weekend. I mean, can’t he schedule his visits for mid-week, when I haven’t committed to being outdoors for 45 minutes in tights and no jacket? With a cold.

Had the Run for Your Lunch 5.5K in Middleboro, MA, not been for such a fantastic cause (and had I not publicly declared my intention to run 52 races this year), I may have decided to sit this one out. But, despite protestations by my nose, I was happy to run in support of the new All Are Welcome Community Kitchen and Bakery, which is dedicated to providing access to nutritious meals to those who need them.

And it could have been worse. We could have been in New Hampshire.

Run for Your Lunch 5.5K

Running assassin!

Mask and you
shall receive

I have learned many lessons over the past month or so about dressing for winter runs. But until this particular day, I had not experienced the genius that is the running balaclava.

Hubby was kind enough to hand his over when he saw my formerly red nose turning blue at the start of the run, and I was happy to accept this multi-talented piece of fabric. Not only does it take your running ensemble to new levels of absurdity (see left), it also conceals any and all instances of tomato-face. And after the run, you can go rob a bank or two if you feel so inclined.

OK fine, it also functions as a hat and a neck warmer, although trying to manipulate it between these states as you are running a blistering 10:50 mile pace is somewhat challenging (I believe I looked as though I had hair-ears at one point. Not ear hairs, but ears made of hair).

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