Category Archives: Humor

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

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

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

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

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

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. 4: The treadmill. My most hated of all mills

I have no qualms about running in a freezer, but running in a giant Slushee is another story. The weekend’s snowstorm, while nothing to write home about, was enough to make me want to put my 52 Weeks, 52 Runs plan on ice. (The lack of available events at the right distance didn’t help.)

The beach covered in snow.

This après-snowstorm shot of the beach at the end of my street has little to do with running. But for this Aussie, seeing the sand covered in white is a wonderful thing.

But this is my challenge and I can set my own rules (such a rarity). Savvy readers will recall my original 52 Weeks, 52 Runs post, in which I outlined “The exceptions to the rules that I’ll make up as I go along.” In this vein, I give you:

3. If no runs exist, I take to the treadmill, or do one of the virtual runs that abound on Twitter. I will donate the equivalent of an entry fee to charity.

Hence this weekend, I invoked made-up rule No. 3 and took to the treadmill …

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