I am about to explode with excitement! I have successfully done a double-duty run-and-swim day. My legs are still attached and happy, I did not fizzle in the water, and I think I can allow myself to dream big now.
This morning, I questioned going on my scheduled four mile run (love the sound of “scheduled four mile run”–it makes me feel so official and hardcore). My stomach had been displeased with me the day before, and I had the slightest hint of headache, and the room was hot already at 6 am despite the AC being on high…. You know, garden-variety excuses.
But I strapped on all necessary equipment anyway–knee sleeve, heart rate monitor and chest strap, band-aids in case new sneaks rubbed, i-pod, nike+, ipod holder, safety pins to attach the keys to myself–and headed out the door, not expecting much.
The first mile dragged a bit and, because I knew I had taken it too easy, I thought I’d make myself wait past a mile and a half for my usual walk break, until mile 2 rolled around and I realized I had yet to take a walk break–woot woot! So I thumbs-upped myself and took a short walk break, and then ran the other half fairly incident- (and walk-) free.
Unlike my last four mile run, once I hit mile three my feet didn’t instantly hurt, nor did my stomach wobble, nor did I start thinking of how great it would be stop. I actually thought of how great it would be to keep going , if only because I would feel majorly kick-ass and smugly entitled for the rest of the day, both of which are number one reasons for doing stuff as far as I’m concerned.
So, in the end, I ran four miles in 40 minutes, with only two walk breaks. No mean dogs or dodgy men were spotted, and I lapped twice around the morning garbage truck (take that, Mr. Staring BubbleBelly Driver) and twice around a crew of workers pretending to dig at some plumbing near my street. By the time I got home, I felt like the Queen of My Domain (For Shizzle).
As I was also hip-and-knee-twinge-free and aware that I would not be able to swim on Thursday during lunch (doctor’s appointment), I decided that the day called for a double–that easy swim I didn’t do yesterday was in the cards indeed.
So, armed with my foxy new swimming bikini and a shot glass’s worth of SPF 85 sunblock, I dove into the pool for an easy 20-lap swim. Which turned into 25 because the water was so nice, and the sunblock so effective, and I felt so shockingly OK after the run and the first twenty laps.
Which makes me think that my semi-secret goals of doing a half-marathon and a triathlon in the coming year may not be so unattainable after all.
The half-marathon “tease” goal has been on my mind since my visit to Puerto Rico. You see, I have a wonderful jolly uncle:
That's my tio in the rooster mask!
He recently walked a VERY fast 10K race. Not a big deal for many, but this wonderful uncle of mine has a tracheotomy from a bout of throat cancer he fought through about twelve years ago, and has lost about 100 pounds in the last year after a serious lifestyle overhaul resulting from a diabetes-hospitalization scare, AND did all of this after having dealt for years with excruciating back pain from a very badass motorcycle accident in his early twenties.
Said wonderful uncle of my heart just had laparoscopic surgery on his knee for a meniscus-related injury, but I caught him coming off the 10K race high last week. He told me excitedly that, if his knee allows, he will be walking (or walking-running) the NY Half-Marathon in April 2011. I was floored. I tried to pretend I wasn’t teary so I wouldn’t appear wimpy in the presence of the uncle who was about to give me some VERY good, big-girl-style whisky–and then I vowed to him that, if he could get himself and his knees to NYC for it, so would I. We shook on it and had a glass of the aforementioned whisky to seal the deal.
So that’s my secret half-marathon teaser goal. I REALLY hope he can do it, and I’m petrified of training for it if we end up going for it. But fear not, my friends. I’ll do it, even if my knee falls off afterwards and I end up confined to my couch (with bonbons and Maury Povich, for weeks afterwards) because I’d do anything for this crazy uncle of mine, and because my dad would have wanted us to do a crazy thing like this, and because I’m guaranteed a great glass of whisky at the finish line and a slammin’ night out in NYC with him afterwards.
Let’s just cross our fingers the Family Knee Issues are resolved so we can both get our NYC glory….
In other news, this time of a sartorial nature, I brought back the yellow:
Apologies for dark shots--it was dark by the time I got home and around to taking these
Which is now shockingly close to my year-and-a-half-in-Trinidad skin tone. If only I could get cosmetics labeled “mustard” rather than olive, no? Whatever–I take great pride in my ability to be described in terms of condiments.
As for food round these parts, I had the standard banana oatmeal (with coconut today–how very daring, eh? not) for breakfast, as well as an aloo pie (fried dough with spiced potatoes and topped with pepper sauce, curried chickpeas, and mango chutney) which was given to me at a meeting. I seem to lack all feminine genetics when it comes to ice cream and chocolate (as in, I could swear them off for life without caring less), but when it comes to hot, spicy, tangy, fried stuff… All I can say is I hope I come back as a sumo wrestler in my next life so I can eat these to my heart’s content, but since a sumo wrestler next life isn’t a sure thing, I’ll indulge wherever possible in this one (and I’ll do it so greedily I’ll forget to take a picture, too).
For lunch, I had the second batch of my black bean, lettuce, tomato, green peppers, cucumber, and green onion salad, topped with homemade mango dressing. The light was awful for pictures when I ate, but you can check out yesterday’s version if you want to see the real deal at its best.
As for dinner, the late afternoon errand of picking up The Smurf from the straightener (where they removed all the horrid scratches, bumps, and dents!) made for a hurried dinner-time. What would have been lentil soup and pita pizzas turned into pasta with bottled sauce courtesy of Matouk, topped with baked breaded eggplant and fresh basil:
My peeps, the workouts have totally squashed my energy level. I have crashed. I will crash (into my bed). I’ll be back tomorrow!
Filed under: Dishing good, The Pursuit of Waistaliciousness | Tagged: eggplant, La familia, pasta, Racing, Running, Swimming | 3 Comments »