Saturday, August 3, 2013

Ugly Sloth

Ugly running sloth, to be precise.

I was just reading a Facebook post where some skinny chick was bragging about her run today and how she just knowwwws that her 10 minute mile is so slooow but she's proud of herself for finishing. Another person commented a little bit later that she is thinking of abandoning the group because of posts like that which make her feel bad for her 11 minute miles.

WHAT?  I run a consistent 14 minute mile.  :)  Are you freaking kidding me?? I would love to run an 11 minute mile or even a 10 minute mile, but it's not happening yet. 

I think this is directly related to not having been able to run since I was in my early 20s, because of the running bra issue.  Their relative nonexistence remained, until recent years when I was too big for the normal range of bra sizes and had to have a reduction just so that I could breathe without serious effort.  Talk about a weight being lifted!

Oh my goodness... I ordered a Moving Comfort Fiona running bra and got it last night... (Smaller than my usual size) and that thing holds down all of the bouncing (nothing can stop all of the jiggling). I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself.  

And the best thing?  IT'S PURPLE!  I could wear it without a shirt, even.... But I'm not there yet.  (YOU'RE WELCOME!). Lol.  I love the fact that it has Velcro straps which adjust in the front.  I can tighten that sucker up and really strap em down!  Bondage braaaaaa.... Lol. Seriously... It's cute, it works, and it was $20 cheaper than all of the Underarmour bras. I wish that even a semi-local store sold these, because I'd like to try one in my "real" size just to make sure I'm into a smaller bra now.  

I suppose this gives me motivation to ensure I have the size right. (IE - run more, shrink in size)  One thing is for sure - I will buy more now that I see this one will work.  Maybe I'll be able to run faster with it.  :D

I think that I've been training with the wrong goal.  I keep going out and trying to run 5k every time, because that's my usual race distance and I want to be able to run the whole distance.  I can run a mile without a walk break, so I'm thinking that maybe I should concentrate on moderately extending my nonstop running distance a bit every week, until I've been able to run the entire 3 miles. 

I'm not strong enough yet to run three miles every day, but I might be able to run a mile every day and lengthen it.  Even when I was a girl who was a fast runner --let's face it -- my speed was in sprinting, not endurance running.  This is the first time in my life I've put myself through this sort of thing.  I don't think there's much need anymore for me to sprint, so why do I beat myself up over it?  

Maybe it's because my own free will is literally the only thing I can control to the point of perfection, and I get upset when I can't be perfect at something.  It's not that I believe I can be perfect anyway, but it's the flaws that I tend to see in myself and in my work, and they outshine the beauty of any accomplishment.  

Perhaps I hear the harsh voice of my worst critic perpetually.

Happily singing a song I loved, I'd be told to shut up my caterwauling.  I didn't ever want to sing in front of another person after that.

Satisfied with how my lean legs looked in shorts, I was told I have knobby knock knees and should always wear pants.  My knees look just fine, actually.  

Having long hair always made me feel pretty, so that same someone told me long hair makes me look horse-faced and once cut all my hair off (badly) shorter than a boy's.  And then scornfully called me by a boy's name for years afterward.  While everyone around me laughed at the great joke, it really altered my self-perception to the point I still believe I'm as ugly as she said I was.  Of course, all the neighborhood boys chimed in with calling me ugly, too.  And it stuck. 

And there you have it. 

I wanted to be on the track team in high school, but that same critic told me I wasn't allowed to because they didn't want to pick me up from track practices or meets.  It was far too much trouble, and so was finding a bra for me to run in.  By the way, we lived less than a mile from my high school.  What a hardship it would have been to drive a mile to pick me up.  I could have just walked home, but I wasn't allowed to do that either. I was too afraid to rebel and join in any school activities.  Maybe it's why I'm scared to just barge into social activities now.  

Oh well.  

The Nike+ app is frustrating me.  I wanted to set myself a challenge to run 30 miles in 30 days, but I have to be joined in the challenge by a Nike+ friend.  One of my supervisors traded friend requests so that we could do challenges, and after the hours it took for him to show up on my friends list, it still didn't work.  ARGH.

Anyway, I think I will go for one of my patented slow runs.  Know why? 

I may be slow, but I CAN run, and even though I would dearly love to have some company when I run, I can do this by myself.  Let the zombies eat your slow non-running ass, because that's when I'll show you that I can still sprint.  Lol

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