Running, Anywhere, USA
I was THE slowest kid in the sixth grade. I couldn't complete the ten-minute-mile test if I was being chased by a pack of rabid zombie dogs. Since then, I've always admired runners. They seemed to posses some strength and determination I must have been born without. I also believed that runners were partly deranged- I mean, who could possibly enjoy being short of breath, and getting stomach cramps, and doing the same monotonous action for miles?!
As an adult, my admiration grew into emulation. A couple years ago, I started to like the idea of being thought of as a runner. (Plus, running is free and I was broke.) I signed up for my first 5K and started training on the treadmill in the gym of my condo, using Couch to 5K. Just having a running app made me feel like a real 'runner' and therefore, much cooler. And using an app made it much more fun, especially because I was able to post my progress on Facebook, which made my friends think I was a runner, which definitely made my cool points take an exponential leap (if only in my own mind). The tribe mentality also caused me to run more often. I went from running once a week to three to four times a week. During this time, I invested in legitimate running sneakers, which I researched extensively online, and I even subscribed to Runner's World magazine and several running blogs. Even though I was running and had all of the gear, I still felt like a phoney. I mean, running was getting slightly easier, but I certainly wasn't enjoying myself. I kept at it none-the-less and completed my first 5K in 30 minutes- not to shabby for a girl who couldn't pass P.E.
In the months that followed that first official run, something strange happened- I kept running. It seemed while pretending to be a runner I had somehow become a runner along the way. I've become one of the silly freaks that smiles while sweat pours down their back under the glaring Florida sun. Finally, I'm one of the cool kids! I'm still not much faster and I have several moments of weakness each time I run, but running has become a great therapist and a source of all kinds of positive mushy feelings about myself.
Running is something you can do right now, so if you've never tried it...
just put one foot in front of the other, and just keep doing that - over and over again - until you feel euphoric. Be careful- euphoria and nausea are interrelated, so stop if the world starts spinning around you.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Thursday, June 13, 2013
More Adventures in Exercise Land
SPOILER ALERT: IN TONIGHT’S CLASS I FLEW OFF MY MACHINE.
That first sentence defines me almost perfectly. As my dear and lovely friend Kristen explained above, the resistance machines that are used in these classes come with a lot of bells and whistles, some of which are far too complex for me. This usually results in Kristen coming over to my Reformer to help me mid-exercise like a mother helping her 5 year old.
A brief intro. I am prettttty awkward. Not socially (well, sometimes - depends on the day), but just in the area of basic motor skills. Uncoordinated to the nines. I have only joined one exercise class in my life which was a Bikram yoga class in D.C. During one unsuccessful attempt to touch my toes, I fell over. A slow, slow fall. Also, 60 of my classmates turned to look at me in disgust and harsh judgment. I have kind of accepted and embraced this awkwardness. People are too embarrassed for me to laugh at me when these things happen, so I am forced to laugh at myself. Behind every smiling clown is deep sadness.
ANYWHO. My main form of exercise used to be running. By main form I mean 3 months out of the year I run and then I take the next 9 months off. I don’t see the results fast enough so I quit before I achieve them and lose myself in a box of Cheez-Its. That being said, I was thrilled I had a buddy to embark on all of the scary exercise classes with of which I was too intimidated by to join alone. I mean, can you imagine flying off your machine in a room full of strangers? Me neither. I am really hoping to attain the body I have always wanted and this week I am willing to do the work. I had my dream body in college once, for like one day.
Tonight’s Energii class was called “Core-Ass Attack”. I spent half of the day in anxiety. The class started at 6pm. We were almost late because Obama was in town and his motorcade shut down the highway. Can you say prima donna. We made it to the class on time and at 6:15pm I started staring at the clock, counting down the minutes until the pain and torture was over. It is roughly a minute of the hardest exercise possible, followed by 49 more minutes of equally ridiculously hard exercises. The class tonight focused on abs, glutes, thighs and calves, all of which I no longer have sensation in. Various crunches, lunges, squats etc etc etc were involved. After doing a million lunges with one leg against the resistance springs, I laughed out loud when we were asked to switch legs and do one more million lunges using the other leg as a prop. Will I fall off my machine now? No, that happens later in perhaps the easiest position of the entire night.
The feeling of accomplishment after the class is beyond well worth it however. I feel like I have finally found a class that strengthens and tones all parts of my body – muscles I didn’t even know I had.
In conclusion, I cannot more strongly recommend finding a friend to sign up for anything that you may feel intimidated to do alone. Be it cooking classes, art lessons, whatever. It feels really good to try something new and go out of my comfort zone and accomplish it. As cliché as it sounds, life is incredibly short (and kind of long at the same time), and my days are much more fulfilled when I take risks and then am able to bask in their benefits. I once read in a self help book (don’t judge) that an extremely positive step to take every day that results in happiness is to set a goal and achieve it – no matter what the goal is. Unless it’s like to smoke as much crack as humanly possible. Well, whatever. To each their own. I now suddenly see the beauty in bucket lists.
SAPPY CONCLUSION: It is really awesome to have someone to re-live each hard pose that makes up these exercise classes, text pictures of macaroni and cheese to and ask if it’s appropriate to carb load after only one class. This blog adventure was Kristen’s idea and I am so happy she asked me to join. She is definitely one of the coolest chicks I know and it really makes me happy to go on this journey with her. Kind of sounds like marriage vows but you get the point. All of my coworkers reading this are now saying “creepy” out loud.
Until next time! Happy flying off your machines!
That first sentence defines me almost perfectly. As my dear and lovely friend Kristen explained above, the resistance machines that are used in these classes come with a lot of bells and whistles, some of which are far too complex for me. This usually results in Kristen coming over to my Reformer to help me mid-exercise like a mother helping her 5 year old.
A brief intro. I am prettttty awkward. Not socially (well, sometimes - depends on the day), but just in the area of basic motor skills. Uncoordinated to the nines. I have only joined one exercise class in my life which was a Bikram yoga class in D.C. During one unsuccessful attempt to touch my toes, I fell over. A slow, slow fall. Also, 60 of my classmates turned to look at me in disgust and harsh judgment. I have kind of accepted and embraced this awkwardness. People are too embarrassed for me to laugh at me when these things happen, so I am forced to laugh at myself. Behind every smiling clown is deep sadness.
ANYWHO. My main form of exercise used to be running. By main form I mean 3 months out of the year I run and then I take the next 9 months off. I don’t see the results fast enough so I quit before I achieve them and lose myself in a box of Cheez-Its. That being said, I was thrilled I had a buddy to embark on all of the scary exercise classes with of which I was too intimidated by to join alone. I mean, can you imagine flying off your machine in a room full of strangers? Me neither. I am really hoping to attain the body I have always wanted and this week I am willing to do the work. I had my dream body in college once, for like one day.
Tonight’s Energii class was called “Core-Ass Attack”. I spent half of the day in anxiety. The class started at 6pm. We were almost late because Obama was in town and his motorcade shut down the highway. Can you say prima donna. We made it to the class on time and at 6:15pm I started staring at the clock, counting down the minutes until the pain and torture was over. It is roughly a minute of the hardest exercise possible, followed by 49 more minutes of equally ridiculously hard exercises. The class tonight focused on abs, glutes, thighs and calves, all of which I no longer have sensation in. Various crunches, lunges, squats etc etc etc were involved. After doing a million lunges with one leg against the resistance springs, I laughed out loud when we were asked to switch legs and do one more million lunges using the other leg as a prop. Will I fall off my machine now? No, that happens later in perhaps the easiest position of the entire night.
The feeling of accomplishment after the class is beyond well worth it however. I feel like I have finally found a class that strengthens and tones all parts of my body – muscles I didn’t even know I had.
In conclusion, I cannot more strongly recommend finding a friend to sign up for anything that you may feel intimidated to do alone. Be it cooking classes, art lessons, whatever. It feels really good to try something new and go out of my comfort zone and accomplish it. As cliché as it sounds, life is incredibly short (and kind of long at the same time), and my days are much more fulfilled when I take risks and then am able to bask in their benefits. I once read in a self help book (don’t judge) that an extremely positive step to take every day that results in happiness is to set a goal and achieve it – no matter what the goal is. Unless it’s like to smoke as much crack as humanly possible. Well, whatever. To each their own. I now suddenly see the beauty in bucket lists.
SAPPY CONCLUSION: It is really awesome to have someone to re-live each hard pose that makes up these exercise classes, text pictures of macaroni and cheese to and ask if it’s appropriate to carb load after only one class. This blog adventure was Kristen’s idea and I am so happy she asked me to join. She is definitely one of the coolest chicks I know and it really makes me happy to go on this journey with her. Kind of sounds like marriage vows but you get the point. All of my coworkers reading this are now saying “creepy” out loud.
Until next time! Happy flying off your machines!
Monday, June 10, 2013
An Intro to Pilates (or so we thought)
Energii, Miami Beach
Despite all evidence to the contrary, I believe I posses all kinds of athletic abilities. I believe I'm a runner, yogi, Kung Fu fighter, and swimmer. There was even a week when I was convinced that I could be a triathlete simply because I read an absurd article about how anyone can complete a triathlon. So it's no surprise that it's Sunday morning and I'm on my way to a Pilates class at Energii on South Beach. The website describes the class as a cross between Cross Fit and Pilates.
I'm about halfway to the beach when my phone rings. It's Lauren (who also seems to posses delusions of athletic grandeur). "Do you have your leather gloves?" she asks.
Panic. 'No?! What?! Did the website mention that?'
I was about to suggest meeting at the beach for a daiquiri instead when I hear her maniacal laughter. 'Thanks, jerk!' Now, I'm terrified.
We get to the studio at the time listed on the website and quickly realize that our classmates are already sliding up and down their Reformers. Fantastic! We're late.
Five minutes in...
I'm sold. I think, "What color Toe Sox should I buy? Is it too soon to invest in a studio tank top? Should I move closer to the beach, so I can attend class more regularly?
Ten minutes in...
My legs are starting to burn, but I'm hoping that the instructor has taken note of my near perfect form. "Why, yes," I'd reply, "I have taken Pilates before. Can you really tell?"
Fifteen minutes in...
Fifteen minutes? Fifteen minutes! Are you frickin' kidding me? I'm starting to lose faith, just when the perfectly coiffed Viking Pilates instructor decides to take it up a notch. As he turns Marilyn Manson's The Beautiful People all the way up, we are coerced to flip up-side-down and push the "box" out with our hands until we are completely parallel to the ground. I'm officially delirious. I know this because I'm giggling for no reason. Nothing about this situation is amusing. As I stretch out again, bringing my face mere inches from the floor, I imagine my hands slipping causing me to dive between the two support beams, all while getting tangled in the resistance coils in some cartoon-like accident.
Next thing I know we're standing on the sliding backrest. This cannot be good. We're being asked to do a series of maneuvers that I'm pretty sure I saw speed skaters doing as part of their Olympic training in the last Olympics. Except, this seems somehow more dangerous. It's quickly becoming a blur of jumping, squatting, and pulling, culminating in what I'm praying is the last and final act of persecution. Thor tells us to put our quivering feet through the hand loops and push our legs out while keeping our heels together and our backs on the sliding backrest. Mentally I'm prepared to bang this out and call it a day. Unfortunately, my legs are no longer on my team. As if possessed, one leg is bending while the other is straightening and neither is following any kind of rhythm or form. They just can't seem to get it together. Well, at least it's the end right?
Nope. Wrong. Time to start springing off the platform again. Oh, but, that's not all. We're to push off the platform and throw our legs in the air before returning to the platform. Every person, including the 12 year-old next to me, managed to perform this seemingly simple move without causing the machine to crash into itself. That is, everyone but Lauren and I. Twenty teeth-jarring crashes later, we're done. We survived. And I feel hot - like really sexy - just like the website promised. That's what I feel, but I'm pretty certain there's nothing sexy about walking around looking like a newborn baby giraffe.
My Review:
This was hands down the best Pilates class I've taken. I'm not sure this should even be called a Pilates class because it was so much more than that. It included strength training, aerobic training, and stretching all at once. It was non-stop and just as much fun as it was painful. The following day, I was sore in all the right places, but I could still move normally. I appreciate this quality in a fitness class. I just don't see any point in doing an exercise that then cripples you for a week. If you'd like to attempt this (miss)adventure, Gilt City has a great deal available for the next three days. The next class we'll be taking at Energii is "Core Ass Attack". I can't wait.
Despite all evidence to the contrary, I believe I posses all kinds of athletic abilities. I believe I'm a runner, yogi, Kung Fu fighter, and swimmer. There was even a week when I was convinced that I could be a triathlete simply because I read an absurd article about how anyone can complete a triathlon. So it's no surprise that it's Sunday morning and I'm on my way to a Pilates class at Energii on South Beach. The website describes the class as a cross between Cross Fit and Pilates.
I'm about halfway to the beach when my phone rings. It's Lauren (who also seems to posses delusions of athletic grandeur). "Do you have your leather gloves?" she asks.
Panic. 'No?! What?! Did the website mention that?'
I was about to suggest meeting at the beach for a daiquiri instead when I hear her maniacal laughter. 'Thanks, jerk!' Now, I'm terrified.
We get to the studio at the time listed on the website and quickly realize that our classmates are already sliding up and down their Reformers. Fantastic! We're late.
Five minutes in...
I'm sold. I think, "What color Toe Sox should I buy? Is it too soon to invest in a studio tank top? Should I move closer to the beach, so I can attend class more regularly?
Ten minutes in...
My legs are starting to burn, but I'm hoping that the instructor has taken note of my near perfect form. "Why, yes," I'd reply, "I have taken Pilates before. Can you really tell?"
Fifteen minutes in...
Fifteen minutes? Fifteen minutes! Are you frickin' kidding me? I'm starting to lose faith, just when the perfectly coiffed Viking Pilates instructor decides to take it up a notch. As he turns Marilyn Manson's The Beautiful People all the way up, we are coerced to flip up-side-down and push the "box" out with our hands until we are completely parallel to the ground. I'm officially delirious. I know this because I'm giggling for no reason. Nothing about this situation is amusing. As I stretch out again, bringing my face mere inches from the floor, I imagine my hands slipping causing me to dive between the two support beams, all while getting tangled in the resistance coils in some cartoon-like accident.
Next thing I know we're standing on the sliding backrest. This cannot be good. We're being asked to do a series of maneuvers that I'm pretty sure I saw speed skaters doing as part of their Olympic training in the last Olympics. Except, this seems somehow more dangerous. It's quickly becoming a blur of jumping, squatting, and pulling, culminating in what I'm praying is the last and final act of persecution. Thor tells us to put our quivering feet through the hand loops and push our legs out while keeping our heels together and our backs on the sliding backrest. Mentally I'm prepared to bang this out and call it a day. Unfortunately, my legs are no longer on my team. As if possessed, one leg is bending while the other is straightening and neither is following any kind of rhythm or form. They just can't seem to get it together. Well, at least it's the end right?
Nope. Wrong. Time to start springing off the platform again. Oh, but, that's not all. We're to push off the platform and throw our legs in the air before returning to the platform. Every person, including the 12 year-old next to me, managed to perform this seemingly simple move without causing the machine to crash into itself. That is, everyone but Lauren and I. Twenty teeth-jarring crashes later, we're done. We survived. And I feel hot - like really sexy - just like the website promised. That's what I feel, but I'm pretty certain there's nothing sexy about walking around looking like a newborn baby giraffe.
My Review:
This was hands down the best Pilates class I've taken. I'm not sure this should even be called a Pilates class because it was so much more than that. It included strength training, aerobic training, and stretching all at once. It was non-stop and just as much fun as it was painful. The following day, I was sore in all the right places, but I could still move normally. I appreciate this quality in a fitness class. I just don't see any point in doing an exercise that then cripples you for a week. If you'd like to attempt this (miss)adventure, Gilt City has a great deal available for the next three days. The next class we'll be taking at Energii is "Core Ass Attack". I can't wait.
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