Sticking To It

No more complaining from me. I've had enough of being a Debbie Downer about running. I will now accept running as America's Favorite Pastime (although, I'm pretty sure that's uploading porn off the net).
I've been keeping up with my running. I still run 4 times a week for at least 3 miles at a time. Last Friday's run of 7 miles was a joke. I made the huge mistake of running on a treadmill. How boring. All I could think about was how much the dude next to me smelled like Jean Nate and wondered why someone decided to put the TV on "The Golden Girls." Yeah, nothing says "workout" like saggy old bittys talking about their geriatric sex lives and shuffleboard. I gave up after 6 miles. I had had enough powder fresh smell (the Jean Nate) and thoughts of the Golden Girls wearing depends. Can you imagine the conversation required to remove the depends before the sexin' begins? "Excuse me Saul, I need to un-tape my no-leak tab. Oh look! The indicator says I'm only half full. I'll save it for later. Now where were we?"

Gross. Seriously though, why do these thoughts enter my head?

To make up for my short mileage, I ran an extra 2.78 miles on Sunday. I know training doesn't work that way - you can't run 2 miles one day, then 3 the next and say "I just ran 5 miles", but for some reason it all justified itself in my head.

This weekend I've got only a 5 mile run. Should be cake. SHOULD be. I'll let you know what obstacles I come across... Be prepared for anything. You know how my head works...

Peace.

"Turn around, RUN!!!"

Alright, so far I'm sticking with this whole running thing. I realize I'm still in desperate need of an attitude adjustment, but I'm not going to quit, damn it. I can't. I won't. I rule. :)

Back to the trials and tribulations of Brooke. Last Friday, the 6th, I was just starting my 6 mile run. I decided to take a new route and run to Husky Stadium and back to my house on the Burke Gilman trail. It was a BEAUTIFUL day and I was ready to explore some new terrain. Little did I know, the universe had something different planned for me. As I was trudging along, counting my footsteps as I ran (something I do to keep my whackadoddle mind busy), I saw a police car zoom past me - siren blaring, lights flashing. I didn't think much of it; by this time I was in the U District and the police run rampant there. About 5 minutes passed and a policewoman jumped out of the bushes at me and screamed "Turn around!! RUN!!!!!" Holy crap, I'm fairly certain I soiled myself. She literally scared the beejesus out of me (I saw the beejesus float away like a lost balloon at a child's birthday party). I turned around and started running in the other direction. I looked up and noticed 4 helicopters (I was too busy counting steps earlier to even notice the helicopters) and then 3 more police cruisers whizzed past me. "What in the hell?" I thought. I was scared, but damn it, I had 5 more miles to run. So I ran in the other direction - my same old standard route. When I was done I realized that I ran 6 miles in 62 minutes. That's not going to seem very fast to you speed demons out there, but for me, it's pretty amazing. I think the adrenaline from the policewoman startling me aided my run and gave me that extra nudge to "haul ass," as my roommate would say.

Turns out the coppers were chasing bank robbers and I was lucky enough to step right in the middle of the chaos. I was so oblivious as I was running that I'm fairly certain one of the robbers ran right past me - I thought to myself "why is he wearing jeans?" I'm so brain dead sometimes...

So what did I get out of this whole experience, you ask? I now run around looking for crimes in progress, run in the middle of the rigmarole, get freaked out by cops, and have the best run of my life. Speed Demon Brooke, here I come!

Tonight's run is only 5 miles. I wonder where I should run...Tacoma? White Center? Hilltop?
Where did I put my Kevlar vest??

Peace.

Divine Intervention

I'm going to need some divine intervention, perhaps in the form of a swift kick to the arse, to set me on the path of runners enlightenment. Why? I hate running. HATE IT. My brain has been fighting me the past couple of weeks. "Why oh why are you torturing yourself?" These 5 miles runs are mind numbingly boring. I find myself dreading the end of my work day because I know as soon as I get home, I have to run. Is that normal? I'm not sure.

I'm still keeping with it; only because I've already paid the $80 registration fee. There's only one thing I hate more than running - wasting money.

Someone smack some enlightenment into me. I'll even inject it into my arm if that means it gets into my blood stream faster...

Life's Lessons: A Runners Reflection of Sorts

So yeah, I totally rule. I ran around Greenlake twice on Friday WITHOUT stopping. That's 5.6 miles, ya know. I only needed to run 4.5 miles, but I was feeling ambitious. So I just went for it.


Afterwards I pretty much died. My hips started to cramp, I felt a poop coming on, and I thought I might faint. Note to self: probably a good idea to eat a Powerbar before running long distances.


So, while I was running, I was trying to keep my mind occupied. I was having all these flashbacks to my childhood - which is weird because usually I try to forget about my pathetic existence as an adolescent. Too much awkwardness...too many shoulder pads...too much Kirk Cameron.


Things I have learned from childhood:

• Brush your teeth for at least 2 minutes
• Don't slam the car door
• Wear your raincoat, even if it's not raining
• Wipe front to back (never veer from this...trust me)
• Do not dump a boot full of sand in your eye
• Dad's suppositories are not mini bombs meant to be jumped on
• You break it, you buy it with your allowance
• No matter how many strangers you grab and call "Mom", they will won't take you home
• Dad's forget their daughters at gymnastics - it's totally normal
• Sugar is the root of all evil, but don't mention that to Mom when she's eating M&Ms
• Faking running away is not really a good way to get attention - you'll just get mad when you hear rejoicing
• Wooden spoons are good butt whackers
• It's totally not okay to put a piece of raw chicken under Dad's pillow
• Parents have favorites - if they haven't told you it's you, it's your brother. Good job Reid.
• Technically money does grow on trees because it's paper, but not on any tree that my parents own
• Even if it makes you barf, you must eat all of your fish soup that Mom made - making barf faces at your brother in the process is optional
• Do NOT order a pizza to a neighbor's house from a place that has a long distance telephone number
• While Dad's hair might look pretty in barrettes, do not tell his friends he let you decorate him
• You must scream "OW!" before your brother hits you
• Peas are Power Pellets and you totally rule if you can eat them faster than your gargantuan brother
• Michael Jackson will always be scary, no matter what year it is
• The love your parents have for you will last a lifetime and if necessary is able to move mountains to keep you safe
• Mom's jeans will always be too short and Dad will always match his sweatshirt to his sweatpants
  

So what does all of this have to do with running? Nothing much. Only that it is the type of nonsense that enters my head while attempting to run my cheesy arse off. Just imagine all the things I didn't share here because they are too weird...it's a crazy and scary world I live in.

On another note, I think I am being targeted by terrorists. Terrorists in the shape of birds. I was running yesterday around Fremont and I got pooped on. Right on top of my head. You have to be a pretty skilled bird to blast one on a moving target. I think this bird went to terrorist school. The School of Hard Drops. Maybe this is all the motivation I need to run faster.

Peace.