Running as a Barometer

I should be putting my brain in a box
and allowing it to power down
while I get restorative sleep.

Apparently, I’m at it again. Pushing myself too much & trying too hard to cram in as much as I can into a day. Consequently, I’m not focusing enough on sleep. I’m having fun, but the lack of sleep makes me hit the snooze in the morning and fumble through my catalogue of excuses why I can’t run in the morning. Usually, the excuses are valid- I NEED SLEEP. I’ve already shortchanged myself by staying out too late on a school night and to function efficiently at work, I need to capture as many winks as I can without being late to work.  

The drought of less sleep was short.  I had one brief date with a guy in February. In late March, after my hypnotherapy sessions with Brennan Smith to relieve my PTSD, I did what has become my bigger modus operandi - live with enthusiasm. We had several dates a week & they often took us past my bed time. The dates had deep conversation and we were sharing our joys and passions as we explored LA together. He knew I was a runner, and I knew he wasn’t particularly fond of the sport and smoked on occasion. Nonetheless, when he wanted to support me on the Nike Women’s 10k and we found out he would have to buy a bib to enter the Paramount Pictures lot, I invited him to join me. (I thought it may be fun as he loved movies and I used to work at Paramount.) This was ill-advised. I had intended to run with my female friends, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings by telling him “stay home” when he was making an effort to come out and see me.  This was particularly hammered into my head by one male friend who insisted I had to honor the new guy’s wishes and allow him to support me. With no training and only grim determination, this guy ran his very first 10k with me. He completed the 6.2 miles and several hours after the race, he cracked like a nut.   

I have mixed feelings about the outcome. I know this was a very difficult undertaking even if you are trained as I remember how tough my first 5 miles were. On the other hand, the race was a catalyst. I learned in short order some ugly things that may have taken me months to learn otherwise. Letting go of this guy was difficult as he had so many admirable qualities but after my surgery, I do not feel the desire to love a man into being the man my heart believes he can be. Will I be making future suitors run with me? Absolutely. It was a fluke the above mentioned gentleman ran a 10k with me so early into our dating. I will be easing future men into the sport by introducing them to my running group. Do future men I date need to run? No. In fact, in early email correspondence, I mentioned to one I hoped to share my love of the sport & on our first coffee date he told me in no uncertain terms that he would not run. At least he stood up to me & was self aware of himself to know this. He quickly followed it up that he cycles.

The world famous Bronson Gate.
Where an actor named Charles
Buchinski  changed his name...

I will not be using a running shoe as my glass slipper, but an interest in athletics is a must. I’ve come too far to backslide. I must focus on my health, sleep and the Hartford ING half marathon that is about 24 weeks away. There is no time to doddle.

Post Script - It seems a shame not to mention all the great things that I was able to reminisce about while being back on the Paramount since during my tenure I gave two hour tours and was also a mail carrier.  But, we never know what we're going to take away from any experience. I'm sure there will be more races and visits to the Paramount lot where I can wax fondly of my time there.

It's Just Like Riding a Bike

Sports have never been my forte. Even the simplest childhood activities were difficult.  I always marveled at my baby sister who would careen around the yard on her bike with mud splattering up her back when she would ride through puddles. Our parents pleaded with her to stop ruining her clothes. It was only then that she started riding her bicycle in a swimsuit. When weather would turn to snow, we would ride our bikes in the barn. For someone who already had difficulty turning her bike, the proposition of turning a bike in the 10 foot wide aisle contending with obstacles of hay, wheelbarrows, dogs and a sister, it seemed insurmountable. I’m not sure if I was ever able to deftly maneuver around all this without stopping, standing and pivoting the bike below me.

The Midnight Ridazz at one of their night-time cycling events.

Several years ago, I purchased a bike. It's nothing fancy, just  a regular bike from Target. Despite my best efforts to pedal and stay erect, it seemed that whoever came up with the adage “It’s just like riding a bike” should be shot.  Riding a bike as an adult is not as easy as it was when I was a child, and considering I had a very difficult time all those years ago, my frustration only continued to grow each time I would take my bike out. I had spent some time looking for the optimal size bike and settled on a children’s bicycle. I considered ways to make it easier, like getting the brakes reversed so I would be able to use my left hand on my back brake. (Apparently, getting brakes reversed is a benefit of growing up in a small town because the bike shops in Los Angeles refused and went as far to say that changing the brakes to do this in the states is illegal.)  Once I had the bike and made my peace with having to brake with my right hand, combining pedal movement, forward momentum and staying upright was tough…. I would wake up early on the weekends and take my bike out before the cars started revving their engines and the roads would be filled with the din of LA traffic. Each time I took my bike out, I would get marginally better… but only marginally. That is, until today.

Tour de France map.

Still lacking in confidence to ride with the big kids down the road, I peddled up and down the dead-end road by my apartment. Bigger than lacking confidence, I lacked something else, that two-inch brain tumor. You world be surprised how much easier bike riding is without this thing getting in the way, misshaping my brain and causing it to swell. The only thing swelling now is my ego. The speed was slow. The distance covered was not vast. I have now realized that stories kids come up with while riding or phrases they tell themselves like “crisis averted” come from near misses with bushes or luxury cars.  Today was a step and each time I take the bike out, it will get easier and easier.  As the laps increased my grip on the brake loosened.  I’m not in a hurry to get out there and commute to work on my bike, but the idea of one day being able to ride several miles with friends just ‘cause will become as easy as running 10 miles with friends. Both of these are far away right now… after looking at all the Hal Higdon half marathon training schedules, it seems that the best one would be with cross-training built in. This program will not only get me to my next half marathon, it will turn me into a cyclist. I don’t expect to join the local club the Midnight Ridazz, but adding one more thing into what I can do is pretty exciting.

I never thought I would look at several laps on a dead-end road as anything remarkable, but on today, on my first bike ride since brain surgery, it is a huge victory.