1 Year Barefoot Runniversary
And neither did my workover tonight.
But before I wax on about my general stupidity and lame-ass workover, I need to take a moment to celebrate. Celebrate what, you ask? Um. My runniversary, of course. Yeah. I'm a bit smug about it. Well kind of.
September 7th 2010. Here's a brief excerpt from my very first blog post (because I know ya'll are too lazy to go look it up. But that's OK. I'm right there with you and I've gotch yer back.)
Well then. I think that just about sums it all up, don't you? Yeah. "I'm no virgin to pain". Ain't that the truth? But, the whole bit about having "no intentions whatsoever to torture myself" makes me laugh my panties off now. Seriously. If this has not been a tortuous journey then I am one delusional piece of work."I have walked on hot, pointy gravel that's all stabby and stuff and now I'm attempting to run on it. Barefoot. Actually, I have no intentions whatsoever to torture myself, but being as this is my first post in my blog journey about barefoot running, I thought I would just say that I am not a virgin when it comes to pain."
Ok. So I exaggerate a little, but you get the point. Pain and torture are my crack and I keep paying the dealer for more. Next thing you know I will be whoring myself on the corner in order to pay for my next brutal trail run of the season. Oh wait. I did that already. Not the whoring part, but the registering for the trail run part. My marathon trail run is fast approaching and I'm sure there will be suffering involved if my knee issues don't get all sorted out.
This journey has not been without tears, pain, joy, suffering, huge-ass smiles and a whole heap of good times. From my original knot monster that plagued me in the first few weeks of beginning barefoot running, to my knee and achilles issues last December, to the euphoric barefoot trail runs out on the Western States trails and the Sly Park after run bar visit and "hydration"session and back to my training and workovers which render me into a wobbly mass of rubbery flesh every time I exit the gym. Whew. Its been quite a year. I wouldn't trade it for the world. So I ran barefoot today. To celebrate. It was just to the gym, but it was fantastic!
And speaking of the gym...let's get back to my general stupidity. I seem to manage to make a spectacle of myself in the gym on a regular basis. The guys in the weight area "know" me by now. I have either almost whacked them in the head trying to attempt a kipping pull-up or they've been witness to my weight-lifting fails. Yup. I did one of those today although I have to say it wasn't as bad as my very first deadlift, which I probably didn't share, cuz my ego was seriously bruised after that one. Its recovered now.
Suffice it to say my first deadlift was a distinctive fail. And people saw it. I was supposed to lift something like 100lbs, but my brilliant "engineer brain" stupidly did not factor in the weight of the bar (which is 45lbs). My brilliant "engineer brain" also didn't think it would be wise to warm-up to the 100lb weights that now made my deadlift almost 150lbs. I had lifted 125lbs the week prior, but it was with my coach, who walked me through it and built it up slowly. I just barely lifted it and I really should have paid closer attention to amount of weights.
So I thought this 100lbs (which, unbeknownst to my "engineer brain" was really 145lbs. Did I do the math right?) would be hard, but doable. When I looked to my left, as I piled on the weights, all I saw was this guy with his jaw wide open in a "are-you-seriously-gonna-lift-that????" stare.
So I get all ready to lift. Squat down...put my hands on the bar...and I'm thinking to myself "I know I'm small, but I can totally do this. I'll show that guy!"
Then I GRUNT REALLY LOUDLY. And the bar doesn't move.
Embarrassment set in and my cheeks got all red. Not only did I fail to lift the stupid bar, but that grunt was akin to something you would do while sitting on the toilet. I gave up. Took off half the weights and lifted what was left. Which wasn't much. Tail between my legs.
The even more stupider thing (oh that was such a perfect phrase) was that it didn't occur to me until several weeks later when after sharing my experience with my girlfriend she asks, "Did you add the weight of the bar?" Um. No. I didn't think about that. Duh.
So tonight's workover in a FULL gym wasn't THAT bad. But it did have plenty of grunting (which could have been pretty loud since I had my ear buds in with my Run Barefoot Girl Song blaring), miscalculations in math (except that I actually lifted the extra weight this time), and little did I know that when I went to hit the timer on my stopwatch I somehow pressed the pace button and its incessant beeping was drawing attention my way which I mistakenly took for annoying gawking while I suffered through three rounds of twenty-five reps of back squats with 100lbs on my shoulders. Yeah. It was that kind of night.
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