Hurt so good...

After watching "Biggest Loser" on Monday, my friend...we'll just call her "Jillian"...decided it was time to shake things up a bit at our twice-a-week yoga/counseling sessions.  She wrote (and this is TRUE, not exaggerated in any way!) "When we get done with a couple months of this, we'll have the hottest asses in Cohagen!"  Now, I don't know if any of you have BEEN to Cohagen in the last few years, but our residents aren't exactly known for enviable derrieres, if you know what I'm saying...myself included.  In my mind, it wouldn't take long to achieve THAT goal, so heck, yeah!  I'm in!  

My first mistake was in returning the Jillian Michaels (no relation to OUR "Jillian") book to our newly self-appointed personal trainer last week.  This book has a carefully outlined plan to kill you.  None of that "make you stronger" businss...it's going to kill you.  You'll look great, no doubt about it, but you won't have the will to live after a week or so.

Here's advice to live by:

NEVER give a woman with a hot ass plan the Jillian Michaels book and 24 hours to highlight it and make sticky notes! 

We get to the yoga place and "Jillian" shows up with a balance ball, two five pound weights, a pile of sticky notes, and a plan.  She brought a Namaste video, too, which is kinder and gentler than Rodney Yee's power yoga, but still challenging in that we're not used to it and have to pay attention to the poses.  It's difficult to get all your personal issues worked out when you have to attend to the actual yoga! I mean...part of being balanced is being able to talk about all the junk that's been bothering you while you sweat; we don't meditate at our yoga studio, we TALK.  And sometimes yell at Rodney Yee, but he's cool with it.

The Namaste was good....the plan was to do the warm-up, two main sessions, then the circuit that "Jillian" had planned, then the cool down portion of the video.  

Seemed reasonable and we were ready to get to work on building better backsides!  

Here's what she laid out for the circuit....again, I'm NOT exaggerating, and if you need to take an ibuprofen before reading it, I wouldn't blame you a bit...

Sit ups on the ball (just keep going until the others are done with their stations) 

20 lunges on each leg.

50 (Dear Lord...5-0!!!) fast squats

Then, 

Planks (just hold 'em until the others are done with their stations)

Balance ball/leg lift things,  12 on each leg

Dead lifts with the weights (20 or more)

THEN, 

Crunches (just keep going until the others are done with their stations)

Plank-knee-to-chest moves (just keep going...you know the drill)

Cross over lunges (12 on each leg)

THEN!!!

Wall resistance hold for 5 minutes which doesn't sound like a long time, but after all the rest of the circuit, it was for stinkin' ever.

Then we got to do the cool down portion of the Namaste video which I don't even remember, because my whole body was shaking. 

It was one of those, "I love and hate you 'Jillian'; I'd hug you if I could lift my arms and kick your butt if I could move my leg!" sorts of things.  You know...it feels so bad it feels good?  And my run this morning was an act of stubbornness and courage.  It was better than trying sit down in a chair and get back up out of it, that's for sure!

And we get to do it again on Thursday!

I think by May, we'll definitely have the hottest asses in Cohagen. (Population, 32)

Fat girls running

Our Irish Setter, Twilla, has started running with me in the mornings.  This is remarkable, because Twilla is notoriously, royally lazy.  And when I say "royally lazy", I mean that her favorite pastime is to lounge upon the sofa like an Egyptian princess, sleeping and glaring at us when we walk by too loudly.  She has to be ORDERED off the couch and even then, she steps down in slow motion, indicating her displeasure by her reluctance to move.  One does not rush a princess...

And because she's so indolent, she's also tubby.  Most Irish Setters are lean, lovely dogs, bright eyed and energetic, almost irritatingly so. See example 1.

  Not our Twilla! (Remember, she's not an Irish Setter, she's an Irish Sitter...) See example 2.

 When we run, she's like a tail-propelled red ottoman bouncing down the road.  A very HAPPY ottoman, but overstuffed.  I feel lean and graceful, running a quarter of a mile behind her, but I can't match her zeal for the moment...not in a million years.

She's excited about funny shaped rocks.  She points antelope droppings.  She dances around what may or may not have been a piece of a tarp strap, lying in the road.  She crashes through the weeds, waiting for me to catch up, emerging with twigs bristling, pink tongue lolling.  She dashes to the top of the butt-killing hill, watches me grinding up, then runs back down,  a portly, but enthusiastic Richard Simmons-ish personal trainer, encouraging me to kick it to the top.  Mostly because she wants her bowl of chow when we get to the house, 50 yards past the peak of the hill.

My little old grandma dog, Molly, runs with us most mornings, but it's getting to be too much for her, especially in the summer.  She and I run about the same pace, born of miles and miles of gravel traveled together.  Twilla drives her nuts, because she just magnifies how slow we really are. Neither Molly or I like to be in second place.  We always try to beat each other to the top of the hill.  It's completely discouraging to watch the red ottoman not only beat us, but come back and limp the geriatric joggers to the top.  So Molly only goes when she thinks Twilla isn't going, or when it's cool enough to frisk her up.  It's kind of sad, for me, to watch but I'm glad that I won't be without a running partner when Molly decides to retire.

Right now, 15 minutes after our run, Twilla has completely inhaled her bowl of chow (because the cats want it, you know, and we can't share a morsel) and is sacked out on the deck, trying to find the motivation to stagger to the couch to rest up for a busy morning of...well,...more sleeping.  She's shot.  Blown all her energy on 30 minutes of morning adventure.

It's a good life.

So We Run

Remember the Montana Women's Run that my sister talked me into doing?

It was this Saturday before Mother's Day!  

There was an option to run either the 5 mile or the 2 mile and of course, we went for the 5.  Two miles is such a piddly little distance and if we're going to run, we're going to REALLY run.  

Cari Mae, our sister (step, but we forget that most of the time) also signed up to run the 5 miles and Karen Leah (step mom, but we forget that most of the time) signed up to walk the 2 miles with her friend Kay.  It was a family affair!  Also, 8,700 other women signed up for the event.  Yes, you read that right.  I'm sure most of the Chronicles readers didn't think there were even that many women in the state, but it's true!  And they were all shapes, sizes, colors, ages, hair styles....amazing.

Now, before I talk about the race experience, I need to tell you that in our family each one of us kids is Dad and Karen's favorite.  We'll call and say, "It's your favorite daughter!" and they say, "You sure are!".  (We all know B.J. and Barry THINK they're the TRUE favorites and we let them because it would bruise their fragile egos to think that they aren't.)  So it was three of the Favorites running!  Our own little team in a way, and next year we're going to get our own tee shirts proclaiming that.  

I won't get into a mile-by-mile report, but I will tell you the highlights.

In BULLET POINTS, TOASTBA!

(That should make you happy.)

• When we five-milers lined up for the race, (all 3,000 of us) the announcer said, "Anyone who runs slower than a 5 minute mile needs to move back from the front."  And the entire crowd laughed heartily. Except for the 6 women in front who actually DID run a 5 minute mile; they were quite serious about the run.  
• I looked down during the line up and was just FASCINATED by all the different shoes! Brand new, old scruffs, big ones, small ones, what-in-the-world-is-THAT ones, every color imaginable...crazy.  
• I learned I'm a really, really slow runner.  Especially when I don't know the course in order to pace myself...who knew when mile 3 was going to end?!  I ran a 10 minute mile through the whole thing except for the last block.  I really wish I'd pushed myself harder.
• Speaking of the finish line...my sisters are faster than me by 3-5 minutes and they'd run together most of the way.  When I got there, they immediately met me and we hugged...we lived!  Then Cari asked me if I'd had fun.  "No! I did NOT HAVE FUN.  This was NOT fun, Cari.  Nothing about this was FUN, do you hear me?!"  Later, I realized it really HAD been fun but we all learned the important lesson: never ask a runner who has just crossed the finish line if they had fun.  It won't be a pretty response.  
• My only goal was to run the whole thing without walking at all; goal accomplished.
• When we were trying to get Karen's attention at HER starting line up, we hollered, "MOM!" and all these heads turned around to see if it was THEIR kids.  That was funny!  She told us to look for a pink hat and a purple race tee shirt; I'm not exaggerating when I say there were probably 60 women with pink hats and purple race tee shirts.  We called quite a few of them Mom, but they didn't seem to mind.   
• I was ridiculously hungry after running, but not really tired or sore, which was wonderful!  My sisters were exhausted, almost too much to eat.  After the race, I had half a sweet roll...bless Perkins' heart for donating them....then at the pizza joint took on a largish salad, half a Thai Pie, a beer and bunches of water.  Followed by a bunch of Milk Duds on the ride home.  Appalling amounts of food.  
• I don't think I'm a great racer.  And I'm certainly not a great racer with that many people involved.  If it was a race with 5 friends, I'd run until bloody to beat them but I don't really care when there's 8,000 or so.  But I'm glad I did it.  
• My sister is NOW training for a half-marathon.  I told her I'd send her flowers.  My next thing will be a series of 5 and 10Ks for fun...especially if they have groovy tee shirts. 

Pictures to follow!

It's not the Boston Marathon, but...

My friend Lori ran the Boston Marathon this last Monday.  I admire her greatly for many things but this put her on a local running pedestal, really.  I mean, it's not enough that she's pretty and smart and better at yoga (because yoga is a competitive sport, don't you know?) but she had to go and run the Boston!  Seriously!

Johnny Kelley, winner of the 1935 Boston Marathon

My sister and I are committed to running in the Mother's Day Women's Run in Billings this year.  In fact, today is sign up day for us! Huzzah!  But since she's just a beginning runner and I've never been in an ANY K race, we're only doing the 5K.  Which feels sort of wimpy, following Lori's showing at the Boston.  Well, it IS wimpy, but it's a start.

HOWEVER....
Runner's World Magazine just delivered the Trail Running edition and I found my race.  It's almost as though the organizers knew me and created it specially to make me feel better about being a running...dingbat.  Here's the blurb from the actual race sign up...see if it doesn't just scream "Farmer's Wife, this is for YOU!":
(It's long, but it's fun reading...don't be intimidated!)

When a Half Wit entry is said to be "outstanding in his field", it is because he or she is not bright enough to find his way OUT of that field! Especially if the grass is really high! Only a rare breed (thank God!) enters the Half Wit Half since this demented trek requires one to have very limited common sense, no regard whatsoever for their body, a desire to suffer more than a Charles Dickens' orphan and more balls than the driving range; much like those running for the Republican Presidential nomination. The "Half Wit Half" Marathon 13.1M Trail is a never-ending barrage of rocks & roots, serious ascents & descents, downed trees (no water crossings), urban relics like the "128 Steps from Hell" and stifling heat; and that's the NICE part of the course. And yet 450-600 people of limited gray matter & low SAT scores do it every year. WHY? Well, first of all, DUH, they're not too bright! But many of them site the unique aide stations (some w/alternate beverages), the horses butt awards, the eclectic tech shirt artwork & the post race party at the Liederkranz German Singing & Sports Club that goes on forever, mainly because they lost their keys. The HWH is maybe PCS’s most gnarly race, Dude. It's a true challenge for the race leaders who would rather break a femur than have a 2 hr plus half marathon to their credit. Yet, it's doable by the person that downs 3 Snickers bars while reading the National Enquirer on the rack as they wait behind a BlueHair with 97 coupons at the supermarket. Yes, the HWH will be the most unique race you'll ever do, although if you are truly a Half Wit, you'll probably follow your Tom Tom's direction without question and end up in Cape May. LEGAL B.S: You are responsible for your health and welfare at all times during this race!! NOT the place to do your first “trail race” or “race” ever. It’s tuff! Plus, we don’t look for you if you get lost; we'll be too tired from marking the course the day before. Since this race is a REAL BUGGER, we don’t allow entries under 18. We also reject people that think that U.S. companies will ever bring back the jobs they sent off to people who will work for 16 hrs straight for $3.26/day before taxes, and anyone who doesn’t think that bouncing a quarter off Joan River's face would be hilarious. However, if you've ever bought cubic zirconia jewelry, a Jessica Simpson CD or a ticket to ANY wax museum ANYWHERE, we welcome you with open, very hairy arms!

AWARDS: 1st and 2nd M & F overall + 1st M & F Masters (no repeats) +
18-29: 6M/5F 30-39: 6M/4F 40-49: 6M/4F 50-59: 6M/4F 60-69: 4M, 3F (60+ for women) 70+: 2M,

REGISTRATION/ENTRY: Reading Liederkranz, 140 Spook Lane (off of Hill Rd), Reading, PA Reg. opens at 7:45 a.m., race starts at 9 (approx.). Fee: $32 w/shirt if postmarked by Mon, 7/23/12. Afterwards, $38 while shirts last (inc. raceday), $28 when gone. WARNING: FEW EXTRA TECH SHIRTS printed than the # ordered by prereg entries so if you don’t enter beforehand (even if after the cutoff), the only way you’ll prove to your friends that you’re a “Half Wit” is by telling them about the time you aborted your hunting trip before it even began because on your way there, you came upon a sign on the road that said "Bear Left". We race in heat, rain, humidity & pestilence. No refunds, mailed shirts/awards; running with pets (it would be cruel) or in-woods kanoodeling, especially with our deer. We reserve the right to delay the race start a shade if the weather is mega-foul, such as lightening. For your fee, you get a “collector’s item” tech shirt reflecting the limited smarts of those entered, finisher awards to all, (alternate type mailed to others if we have more finishers than estimated), very unique trophies, lots of munchies, well marked course, 5-6 water stops (some with snacks& alternate beverages), immediate results, results on www.pretzelcitysports.com in 1-2 days, indoor johns & porta johns on site, ambulance present & on-course surprises!

NOTE!! THIS IS ONE OF PCS’s SUMMER RUNS THAT STARTS AT 9 AM. DON’T BE LATE! ALSO, YOU MUST REACH 9M IN UNDER 2 HRS, 30 MIN. If it takes you any longer, it’s dangerous for you to go on (ask the girl who was last in 1999). It also ups the chance that all the food will be gone, the finish line will be packed up & the race committee will be knee deep in their body waxes. So you’re not tempted to “finish or die trying” after the cutoff, we remove the last section’s course markings starting at that time, give the wildlife water balloons and release our touchy-feely Aunts and Great Aunts onto the course. Bail-out” spot (9M) occurs within 1/4 mile of the finish. If you “bail”, PLEASE don’t CROSS THE FINISH LINE to tell us that you quit/got lost/got hurt/only ran part of the course, etc.!!!; It screws up our timing ROYALLY!!!

What do you think?

According to Runner's World, runners have to recite a humorous, self-demoralizing rant know as the Oath of the Half-Wit, there are beer stops at miles 9 and 11, there truly is polka music at the post race party and all finishers get a trophy that is shaped like a horse's hind end.  That beats a flaky old tee shirt, huh?!

One of the (many, many, MANY) things that snagged me was the part that said it could be done by someone who downs 3 Snickers bars while reading the National Enquirer on the rack as they wait behind a Blue Hair with 97 coupons at the supermarket.  I read People magazine, which is a quite a bit classier than the N. E., and prefer Milk Duds to Snickers bars, but other than that, they have my number!

It's August 12 in Reading, Pennsylvania.

Can you imagine? Me....running with my own kind!  

It's too good.  

"It only hurts for a little while...

...that's what they tell me; that's what they say."

It was a song on the radio when I was a kid.  I have no idea who originally recorded it, but I sing it in my head when I do yoga.

Yoga is the perfect place to apply the saying, "That which does not kill you makes you stronger."
I've been doing some, lately, and it's one of the hardest strength training I've ever encountered.  But it's the very best, too!  It's more interesting than doing plain old push ups and crunches, and I've found muscles I didn't know I had in places I'm surprised they exist...truly.  For instance, when I was trying to contort into a pose that the video instructor seemingly effortlessly glided into, I got a charlie-horse cramp in the muscles of my ribs.  I KNOW; I didn't have any idea there were any of significance, there, but I'm telling you...they ARE there and they don't like it when I go from the one-legged downward dog into whatever twisty pose I was attempting. 

My thought process, when doing yoga, goes something like this:

"This isn't so bad (during warm-ups)!  Maybe I was just a big baby last time...yeah, that's it."

"Right leg?  Which is my right leg?" (because on video, it's a mirror-image of what I'm supposed to do...I get all messed up)

"Breathe in?  or out?  Good grief!  I'm still working on finding my right leg...I'll breathe when I get that done, lady!" (I talk to the instructors, under the breaths I'm not remembering to take...)

"Cat pose, crane pose, fish pose, dog pose....how about a dead turtle pose?  THAT I can do."

"I want to die, but it feels good, but I want to die, but it feels good, but oh man, I really want to die..." (I say that more frequently than anything else. It's the theme of yoga.)

"Cramp! AAAAHHHOOOWWIIEEE!"

"HOW can those people on the video be smiling and serene?! WHY are they not sweating and rolling their eyes?! WHERE do they get those great outfits?!"

"Love cool down yoga!  We should do more of the cool down yoga...it's sorta dead turtle-ish..."

"Well. Now.  That wasn't so bad.  And I feel so strong! And I can breathe, now!  Yeah!"

That's the 50 or so minutes, all condensed for you.  It would be more amusing if you had the video of me doing the video, but you get the idea. 

I can tell you, it doesn't look like THIS:

Hurts just to look at it, doesn't it?

I'm seeing results, already, though, and that's what keeps me coming back.  And I love feeling strong...love it!  I like that I can do the yoga exercise without the interference of the yoga mind junk.  Even if it did have that mantra-stuff, I'm afraid I'm contrary enough to be thinking "You all can take your inner third eye and shove it, because I'm praying to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob that I'll live through this experience with minimal damage to the surroundings and/or my physical being!"  Seriously.  It WILL bring you closer to God.  I pray to get through it, pray in thanksgiving when it's over, pray I can find the Aleve quickly...

I'm still running, but it's fun to have something different to work on.
Stay tuned, because next week, you get the report on my other new exercise endeavor...