I Ran (So Far Away) Like Hell

[Thanks for the new ipod music, Inky]

 

 

I Ran Like Hell

Despite the injury I’ve been recovering from; despite running a 5K earlier in the morning as part of my weekly group training; despite being dressed up in an apron and donning red braids and a plastic cap, I ran like hell on Halloween during a local 5K race: 27:46.

[Serious runners, please stop laughing. Everyone else, bow in awe.]

Since it was a fun run, I also placed higher than I ever will again: 2nd in my age group (and in my town, mine is quite the competitive age group), 41st overall (out of 150+ runners).

Not bad for an old hag!

Running Writers

 “Running! If there’s any activity happier, more exhilarating, more nourishing to the imagination, I can’t think what it might be. In running, the mind flies with the body; the mysterious efflorescence of language seems to pulse in the brain, in rhythm with our feet and the swinging of our arms. Ideally, the runner who’s-a-writer is running through the land and cityscapes of her fiction, like a ghost in a real setting.”

—-Joyce Carol Oates (2003)

Post-Injury Running: A Love Story

This weekend posting is for runners; academics, please return in a few days for a week 1 of the quarter rant posting.

After heavy training this spring for my two half marathons in June, and continued running throughout the summer (in preparation for another half in October), I, no surprise here, injured myself.  It was no surprise because the ache in my hip area began in May or so, and I gleefully ignored it for months, despite screaming out one day during a stretch class.  Then, in late August, in the 7th mile of my regular 9 mile run, I nearly fell down the downhill portion of the trail when a sharp pain attacked me below my hip flexor.

Since then, no running (let’s just say the elliptical trainer is the most boring invention on earth, with the stationary bike a close second).  I’ve been going to a physical therapist a few times a week (he’s 6′5″, 220 pounds, with a charming, non-western U.S. accent—and, no surprise, most of his clients are women) to work on the various muscles that simply were overused all these months (the outer quad muscle, the glut, and fasciitis in my foot). 

It’s working: I’m stretching daily, and plan to take yoga (sigh) in addition to the stretch classes I’ve been attending.

{An aside about those stretch classes, geared to “seniors”–an age group I’m not yet part of: those women ROCK. I can only hope I am that nimble and strong and balanced when I’m 70 years old!}

Cute doc and I decided it’s  time to slowly start running again, and I chose to join a class of beginner runners at one of our local running stores. I signed up a few days ago: 10 Saturdays of training with coaches who will go over the basics of injury-free running, culminating in a group run at the local Christmas 5K in December.  Despite my lack of running for the last month, I was put in the “experienced” subgroup (versus the inexperienced, but active, or the fast walkers group): that was a good call.

We met for the first time today (60 women and 3 men) and it was truly an energizing, revitalizing experience. I wish I had done this a year ago: I probably would have avoided injury in the first place.  THREE coaches followed each group (so 9 coaches altogether, including 2 physical therapist/runners) as we ran for 2 minutes, then walked quickly for 2 minutes, for less than 2 miles.  They talked to us individually about our strides, breathing, body postures, speed, and adjusting to whatever injuries we were suffering from (I’m not the only runner in this “experienced” group with an injury, obviously).  Afterwards, I even learned some new stretches.  Then we were given a training guide for the week, and told that our t-shirts and water bottles would arrive next week.

I’m VERY committed to this: I want to run again (obviously no half marathon this fall, but next spring is doable), and I want to do so for a couple more decades, injury free, so I’m taking this seriously.  There were some challenges: running for barely 2 miles at a relatively slow pace was a big one. I wanted to sprint (and sprint I did for the last 20 seconds with a few others who were obviously also fighting the urge).  And running for only 2 miles: it’s almost like sex that’s too quick.  Almost.

 But, I ran with no pain, and now several hours later, still no pain.  I feel energized.  Those endorphins came back! I do love my endorphins.

Antidotes

1. To the odd recent overabundance of male midlife crisis novels: 

• Spending by Mary Gordon. No longer a new novel, but the first one I’ve found in my stack that provided just what I needed. The Times reviewer concedes that the sex scenes are “prettily written” (!), but they are truly erotic. And the novel appeals not just to the physical, but to the emotional and psychic desires of a middle aged woman (writer, artist, intellectual)  reader, too. 

2. To the heat of the day:

• 7am runs along the river (with, finally, a lightweight water bottle that is easy to carry).  I had no idea how much I see that early: interesting couples (who probably don’t want people to know they are couples); groups of mothers and strollers (try that on a single track trail); runners in their pjs (really–they are not in running clothes); lots of dogs (off leash of course); oh, yes, and deer, rabbits, fish, osprey….

3. To lugging the laptop to do work elsewhere:

• A 10.1″ HP Netbook.  Ok, so some of my antidotes are a bit consumerist, but really, the netbook is light, fits in my purse, and at least the version I have has a keyboard that is 90% full sized, so I can really type on it.  I’m using Open Office on it, not storing anything important on it (so no Quicken), and it’s much faster than my 4 year old laptop.  It’s been a treat walking downtown to one of the many local coffee or tea houses; and I can’t wait to try flying with it once conference season begins this fall….

4. To a messy, dusty, disorganized, full of 10-year-old files,  office:

• Being forced to pack everything for the big move (in 3 weeks!) to my NEW, larger office.  I’m going lite: trying to get rid of paper files that I rarely look at, and all those versions of the Norton and Heath anthologies that I have (because I don’t want to lose the NOTES I have in each version).  All being discarded.  My blue recycle bin overfloweth (much to the custodial staff’s displeasure).  New office: a bit further up the hill on campus, but it has THREE windows, on two walls.  Hanging plants may actually survive…(thus, this is also an antidote to claustrophobia and lack of oxygen during the school year).

5. To the high cost of student textbooks:

• On the quarter system, we currently have 3 quarter-length required writing courses (soon to be downgraded to two, but that requires an entire blog whine to write about).  Students rarely take the same professor for all three courses since professors rarely get the same time block or teach all three courses fall, winter, spring.  As a result, students end up buying three textbooks for the year—and it’s nearly impossible for an instructor to make full use of an entire textbook in 10 weeks. So, this year I found 2 texts I”m using for Composition I and II: Faigley’s Backpack Writing 2nd, ed., (Longman, 2010)  and Graff/Birkenstein’s They Say, I Say (Norton 2006) (other instructors use both texts, so I am hoping that at least some students will benefit). Of course, I’m now totally revising my syllabi (or should be: see below).

6. To the need to balance solitude time with social time:

• I don’t have an antidote to this, yet (unless I actually replace all social face to face contact with Facebook since most of my friends are there, too). I’m really quite social–I LIKE seeing friends regularly. I love when they drop in or call for a get together. But then, the next day after a long run (something I obsessively never give up) I regret the lost hours of reading and writing. 

7. To peri menopausal/hormonal sleep disorders:

• I do NOT sleep well, and when I do, I toss and turn. I regularly get up after midnight and read on the futon.  This, as you all can imagine,is somewhat disruptive to our wedded bliss.  Hubby and I (who are not large people–sort of on the smaller size at 5′3″ and small framed for me  and thin despite the beer belly 5′ 10″ for him) are considering getting a king sized bed.  I have great reservations about this for a variety of reasons: a. our bedroom barely fits the Queen sized bed, so the dresser will probably have to go somewhere (where?) else, and b. the floor heating vent is in such an odd location that it would have to be moved to fit a king sized bed, and c. it seems so damned decadent. 
• Does anyone else have a king sized bed? Wanna try to convince me that it’s going to actually allow us to sleep together all night long?  Or should I just wait another 5 years or so until menopause arrives and passes?

8. To life’s little things:

• Blogging about them here or on FB.

Half Marathons Are Not All Alike

In my overachieving sort of way, I doubled the goal I set for myself last year: I completed, not the planned one, but two completely different half marathon races this month.  And I’ve learned that what runners talk about when they we talk about races is, of course, our time, our place in the pack, our aches and pains.  And we also talk about the course itself.   For the edification of no one but own self, and to prevent me from boring my friends and family on Facebook and in person with all the grueling details, I blog about running now.

Half Marathon #1:  

• Nearly 700 runners (nearly 500 of them women, interestingly) converge on a forest trail and run in three waves based on one’s speed (or self perception of one’s speed, I suppose). I run in the third wave having signed up for the race months earlier, when I was much slower, thus I have the satisfaction of running faster than at least a few folks in the second wave (a psychological edge that cannot be discounted).
• The weather: 50s and cloudy at the start; 60s and sunny by the end.
• The course: dirt, rocks, hills, mostly single track, still muddy in spots from weeks of rain.  Twisted my ankle on a lovely rock around mile 4, but it quickly righted itself, thankfully.
• My stats:  2 hours 8 minutes 15 seconds.   Came in 420th out of 683 completers.  I’m happy with that–hey, it’s my first! No injuries. Little pain the next day even.  Probably could have pushed myself more, I’m thinking. 

Half Marathon #2:

• About 1400 runners, also in three waves, but this time the waves were set up by luck of the draw–I happened to be in the first wave this time; this naturally means that there were folks in the third wave who whipped past me even though they began 20 minutes after I did. Psychological edge: zilch.
• The weather:  45 degrees and damned cold while we waited, but by the time the race began the sun was out and it was closer to 50 degrees–warming up to the very warm 70s by the end of the race.
• The course: entirely paved bike trails.  After spending the winter running mostly on treadmills, I spent the spring running on dirt trails, so I was not very well prepared for paved bike trails. My feet still ache a bit from the pounding they took.
• My stats:  1 hour 57 minutes 51 seconds.  Came in 354th out of 1400.  I was told I’d run faster on a paved trail, but 10 minutes faster only 2 weeks after the first half marathon is quite a treat!  But, except for my achy feet, no pain at all.   Definitely could have pushed myself a little more.

So now, naturally, I want to go faster.  Not run a marathon (the idea of running for up to 4 hours just doesn’t do it for me), but to run the half marathon faster.  Obviously, I’m not going to win any medals, especially since the women in my age group are damned fast, but I want to at least try to do the 8 minute mile for most of the race (rather than the 9ish minute mile I’m at now): so 1 hour 45 minutes or so.  By next year? I’d say it’s possible.

For non runners, especially non running academics, who have bothered to read this far:

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, what’s the appeal?  Who cares how fast you run? WHY would anyone want to run 13.1 miles, or run for nearly 2 hours? 

I give you the pleasures of running half marathons:

• Being able to control my aging body with my increasingly flexible and strong mind.  Since I was never a jock or an athlete, I’m now, finally, thoroughly enjoying the mind/body interaction that running races requires.
• While I struggle for the first few miles (mostly because I’ve not yet figured out how much or even how to warm up ahead of time), once I’m in the “zone” the running becomes easy, fun, exhilirating even.  Those endorphins kick in, and the thought of any other mind-altering drug is almost repulsive in comparison. 
• I have done my most productive thinking while running.
• I have had my most divine fantasies while running.

Really, for that last reason alone, I recommend running. That and the ability to eat a bowl of cookie dough ice cream every day and not gain weight.

A Weekend of Firsts

Annie Em’s first…

• Half marathon: 2 hours, 8 minutes, 15 seconds (on a forest trail, with many, many rocks, and a few mud puddles).
• Pure Romance party. And no, I didn’t buy anything.
• Graduation ceremony in which the number of graduating students from her once a year online class outnumbered those in all of her 11 live classes combined (and yes, I’m still grading those online final essays).
• E-mail from NPR asking me to develop the Three Books posting into an essay.

Dead Weekend

The horrid quarter system (10 weeks of instruction followed by 1 week of finals) doesn’t really allow time for the traditional “dead week” of no classes and no assignments so that students can study for finals; however, for some instructors, we do have the lovely hiatus I’m called “dead weekend”: the weekend before finals week when advanced composition students are frantically revising research papers (I spent dozens of hours reviewing the drafts last weekend) and where my online introduction to fiction students are taking their “take home” short essay finals.

So what did I do during my dead weekend? 

I must say, it was divinely decadent.

• I chatted with students on the last day of classes who thanked me for my speech to honors students last weekend: I decided to go the personal/inspirational route. And, taking advice from Ink, my metaphor was: doing well academically is like training for the half marathon.  I also referred to David Wallace Foster’s “what the hell is water?” parable.  It was a speech chock-filled with imagery (and the obligatory “always wear sunscreen” reference got the chuckle I hoped for).
• I went out Friday night with colleagues and friends to celebrate the end of one friend’s rotation as chair of a department.  We ate, drank and talked outside in the evening sun—something we rarely do when classes are in session. Decided we needed a faculty lounge on (our dry, alas) campus.
• I leisurely ran my favorite trail along the river laughing to “Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me” and admiring the wildflowers in bloom.
• I went to a birthday bbq the next night, sitting outside by the fire pit, nibbling on those yummy chicken sausages and chatting about summer plans (reading, writing, running, the 3Rs, as well as socializing and travelling).
• I ran a 5K race on Sunday morning, and ran a personal best of 26:06: I came in 137^th out of over 700 runners.  The half marathon I’ve been training for is next Sunday and I now feel great confidence that I can not just complete it, but complete it well.
• I worked in my garden: I now have several pots filled with soon to be blooming flowers.
• I finished watching season 1 of “In Treatment”—the HBO series starring the studly Gabriel Byrne that has me oddly hooked.  I’ve had a few sessions of therapy, enough to know that this tv show is a wild exaggeration of what is probably mostly skimming on unethical therapy in real life, but ooh, what great drama it is.  Of course, the drama in Paul’s personal life (Bryne’s character) is the most intriguing. 
• Pondered (well, started to ponder) the definition of “happiness” as a result of Ph.D. Me’s posting on Friday.
• I finished reading Elizabeth Strout’s amazing novel Olive Kitteridge and had a sudden flash of an idea for a project I’d like to work on this summer as a result of the MLA’s new discussion group on Age Studies.

Today is Monday and finals week has begun: I’ll receive nearly 40 research papers today, the other 50+ written assignments later this week.  One student, who handed in her essay this morning, needs to return to her home country immediately to get her mother out of a war zone where her uncle was just tortured and killed.

Dead weekend is over.

Summertime Blogging

The Academic Blogosphere (the blogging world in which I live) seems to go on semi-hiatus once classes end—or at least once they end for you semester system schools. We on the quarter system are still plugging away for 2 more weeks. Interestingly, I’ve found few community college instructors who are bloggers (as is also true with the academic novel—there are few that focus on community college faculty and students—another interesting gap to explore).

But I’m finding that the relatively light blog-reading the last few days has allowed me to get more done. I’m also less writerly these days myself: I have a list of blog ideas, but little time or inclination to pursue them right now. Instead I’m doing the usual end of term/start of summer chores:

• Reading research paper drafts—in fact, this activity should take every waking moment of the next week despite the high attrition in those classes. Most intriguing fact from this term’s papers: I have THREE papers on “evil” and one intriguing paper on women who choose to be exotic dancers.
• Reading my online literature class’s weekly postings—this week, they are on Flannery O’Connor and Raymond Carver, two of my favorite writers, so I’m looking forward to reading their postings. Yet, unlike the research paper classes, this class has no attrition, so I have 40 postings and responses to look forward to….so far, they seem to be getting O’Connor’s wicked sense of humor (and, as always, critiquing the hapless grandmother in “A Good Man is Hard to Find”). So far, no one has taken me up on my prompt asking for an analysis of why “Everything That Rises Must Converge” appeared in the season finale of “Lost”.
• Fine tuning the big speech I’m giving this weekend. I have the meat and bones nicely organized, but now I need to work on wording and delivery, and I should time myself, I suppose. Anyone know how long 1700 words should take to read in a New York-velocity accent?
• Choosing textbooks for fall—yes, it’s ridiculously early to even think of such a thing, but I’m already a month late on my fall book orders.
• Planning the summer vacation—this summer, it’s hubby’s turn to plan our vacation in August (itinerary, hotels, etc etc), but I suspect he’ll need a little pushing. Yes, I’m obviously the pushy one in this relationship….
• Gearing up to teach two back to back online classes this summer—luckily, both are graduate level, small classes, focused on researched writing.
• Training for two half ½ marathons in June
• Assorted social gatherings every weekend for the next few weeks (funny how mostly introverted faculty start becoming social and extroverted as the term winds down). One gathering is a “Pure Romance” event: think Tupperware-type party with dildos and edible panties.
• Still reading “light and uplifting” fiction each week in the endless task of finding a community read book. Has anyone read The Help by Kathryn Stockett? That was has been added to the list. Right now I’m reading Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout: a beautiful novel, not unlike Jewett’s The Country of Pointed Firs in terms of structure (each chapter focuses on a different character in this small Maine town), but so far, I wouldn’t call it “light” fiction.

I suspect in a few weeks, once the grades are submitted, the speech is done, and the gatherings are over that I will be able to do a few meaty blog postings. Till then, I’ll probably just do hit or miss links to interesting stories and sites, which I hope are at least mildly amusing (well, they are amusing to me, and perhaps that’s all that counts in the Daily Me world?).

Group Running

As a solo, Ipod-listening runner, I am relatively new to group runs. I usually run alone or on a treadmill. For the first mile I pant and wheeze, but then I get into a physical rhythm that is soothing, allowing me to daydream or fantasize, or sometimes even develop ideas for writing or teaching. Someone once remarked that I grin wildly at times when I am running: there is a reason.  I am almost always conscious of that serotonin surge that happens in the midst of a long run: believe me, no drug is like it. And while that physically joyous feeling slowly recedes after a run, it lingers for hours afterwards. 

I’ve done some 5Ks and 10Ks with groups of people, but after a few minutes, I’m usually running on my own: not fast enough for the semi-elite runners, not slow enough for the “chatty cathies” on a weekend jog, but somewhere in between. 

But for the last few weekends I’ve been going on group runners–supposed “training” for the 1/2 marathon I’m doing next month.  It’s not exactly “training” however: it’s more of a “we set up a trail and measured it so now go run, don’t get lost, and make sure you finish because we aren’t keeping track of you, but we’ll give you a granola bar when you’re done” sort of training run. There are usually around 100 of us there at 8am.  We have progressed from 7 miles, to 9, to 11 miles this last weekend, all along the same forest trail that the 1/2 marathon will be on, so in that way, it has been training: I’m getting familiar with all the rocks and tree stumps, uphills and downhills, shady spots and sunny spots that I will encounter during the big 13.1 mile run. 

And I’m getting to know people, too, though not their names, yet. Most of the other runners know each other. During my first time joining the group (during a lovely spring snow storm at 8am—so it was 30 degrees outside…brrrr), I was alone on the barely marked trail fairly quickly, debating whether I should just slow down and join the chatty cathies in the back, when I realized I was close to the runner ahead of me.  I decided to stay with her for the rest of the run, if possible. She kept me running through the snow, and being with her I didn’t get lost. I call her My Melissa. This time, though, she sprinted ahead of me, so now I’m doubly thankful that she was a bit slower, perhaps for my sake, during my first time. 

This weekend I ran for several miles with 2 guys (and as a novice runner, I can’t lie—-it was good to be as fast–or as slow– as they were).  I couldn’t quite pass the one in front of me for a bit, and the one behind me refused to pass, so we just ran within a few feet of each other on the single track trail for several miles.  I thought it odd that physical closeness, but not in a creepy way, because I’d seen other groups run that close together,  so I went along with it: since the trail was mostly uphill at this point, the physical closeness forced me to keep pace with them. A powerful competitive streak that refused to allow me to pull off the trail and let them both sprint ahead of me? The guy in front looked to be a good 10 years younger than me—WatchMan, I’ll call him, since he checked his watch nearly every 2 minutes. He was speedy on the downhills, but slow everywhere else.  Finally I just passed him. But before that the guy behind me, let’s call him the Greek God (he had what sounded to me like a Greek accent and look to him, plus he was tall and lean and nice looking), yelled out that we were passing the 9 mile mark.  He eventually passed both me and WatchMan, sprinting up that last hill toward the finish on those long, lean legs…

After the run, I checked another WatchMan’s watch (a piece of equipment I probably should invest in): 1 hour and 53ish minutes for 11 miles. Not my fastest time, but damn I feel good about it. 

The group runs are so different than the treadmill runs at the gym where the same group tends to run at the same time on winter mornings: there is some chatting, but mostly we are all focused on speed or distance.  We each have our favorite treadmill, too, which is amusing at times as you see a runner abruptly turn off the treadmill he or she is on to leap to a favorite one just vacated by someone else. 

I like the one that is closest to the window so I can see and feel the sunshine.

Winters are long here, and now that this one is finally turning to spring, I’m running outside more.  Less time doing the treadmill dance.

Distance running is new for me: I wasn’t a runner until last year (though I did try briefly a few years ago before I was tricked into administrative work which sucked me of all physical and emotional energy for 3 years).   Now I’ve been running seriously for a year, and I can’t imagine stopping: it’s very addicting.   

I live in such a runners’ town that I think I’ll be able to keep this running up. I hope so.  I’ve been buying new clothes to fit the newly athletic body I’ve developed (and giving away the old clothes).  And I do love the new clothes.  And I truly love being able to eat without gaining weight. Plus that joyous surge: can’t beat that.