Runners say some pretty crazy stuff and I don’t judge non-runners for giving us weird looks and thinking we’re not really all there. We accept it, the weirdness comes with the awesomeness. But life would be a little easier if those who choose not to run weren’t so full of advice and stupid questions for runners.
In the hope of ensuring that we all remain friendly and I never have to throw my running water bottle at anyone’s face, let’s all agree that certain things shall never be said to runners ever again, okay? In no particular order, since they’re all equally enraging:
1. You ran a marathon? How many kilometers was it?
A marathon is 42km (or 26.2miles, depending on where in the world you are). The marathon distance is general knowledge and you wouldn’t go past $5 on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire without knowing that one. Don’t ever ask me that again. Ever.
2. Did you win?
I’m a recreational runner. If I get a personal best, that’s winning. Hell, if I finish, that’s winning.
(and no, I didn’t win. Thanks for making me feel like a loser)
3. Yeah, I know how you feel after your marathon. I jogged for half an hour yesterday and my legs are killing me today.
No, you most certainly do not know how I feel. I can’t even begin to describe how much you do not know how I feel. Instead I’m just going to wobble away from you so you don’t have to see the rage in my eyes.
4. I enter a marathon every year. It’s really not bad. The last one I did was a 5km along the beach.
A 5KM RUN IS NOT A MARATHON. A 10KM RUN IS NOT A MARATHON. A 20KM RUN IS NOT A MARATHON. Refer to the first point on this list for information on the marathon distance and stop bragging about having done something you have never actually done.
5. I don’t even like driving that far!
I’m glad you’re laziness makes you proud. Actually no, I’m not. It’s nothing to be proud of.
6. You shouldn’t run so much, you’re going to ruin your knees!
Please refer to this and then proceed to shut the hell up.
7. I’d love to get into running but I just don’t have the time.
I wrote about this a while ago here too. The assumption that I’ve got less going on in my life because I make time for running is rude and hinting at that makes you a bit of an asshole.
I had plans to post something about my run from last Thursday today because, after feeling less than stellar for most of the weekend, I’m finally feeling okay. The problem was that I got sidetracked by DOS emulators and abandonware and ended up wasting spending the evening playing my favourite video games from when I was a kid (Micro Machines 2! Xenon II! Theme Hospital!). The whole blog post + gym evening plan was replaced with retro gaming + burgers + more retro gaming and so, here we are right now. I’ve warned you before that this is not a healthy living blog. And no, you can’t have your money back.
But where was I going with this? Oh, right. Last Thursday.
I’ll save you from looking it up – last Thursday was April 25th. April 25th is one of my favourite days of the year. It’s so so good it’s actually a public holiday both in Portugal and in New Zealand (and Australia), which means I get to be home and watch midweek TV (which always gives me a new sense of appreciation for my job) and I get to Skype family back home because they get a day off too, those lucky things.
It’s a day off in both countries for different reasons, though. I’ll explain: New Zealand celebrates ANZAC day, a day which commemorates all Australian and New Zealand soldiers who fought in World War II. Portugal celebrates the carnation revolution, the end of a dictatorship regime that lasted for 40 years and left some pretty big scars in the country.
My grandparents grew up in a dictatorship. We’re talking real dictatorship, not just a stricter-than-average government. These are not distant relatives I’m talking about either, this is the lady who taught me to tie my shoelaces and the man that, to this day, will slice bread for me so I don’t accidentally cut myself. They’re grandma and grandpa, who I talk to every week, who I grew up with. They weren’t allowed to speak their minds. Even my mum and dad lived a few years in that regime (although my dad’s only memory of the revolution is being sent home from school early). In 1974, after 40 years of oppression, everything changed and, every year, on April 25th, my country celebrates that, regardless of how shitty the economy and everything else is there at the moment (and, let me tell you, it’s pretty shitty). No other holiday is as important as this one (no, not even Pie Day) because when you have decades of not being free, you learn to appreciate your freedom.
Two things about this previous paragraph: it proves that you can learn stuff on Super Generic Girl (bet you didn’t expect that) and it serves as an explanation as to why my run on Thursday was so good.
I headed to the bush early in the morning. It wasn’t even properly planned, but more of a “meh, let’s wake up and see what the day is like” kind of thing. There weren’t many people out on the trail yet so it was really nice and quiet for the first few kilometers. Running that trail gave me a chance to reflect on how we are so used to taking our freedom for granted, like it’s no big deal. That run was the best way I could think of to celebrate my freedom that morning. I mean, holyfreakingmothernature, look at the photos on this post. This is the halfway mark of my run on Sunday. If you don’t think this is the perfect spot to reflect on freedom or whatever else you feel like reflecting on, then we’re just going to have to agree to disagree, and you’re just going to have to be wrong.
The run also gave me a good excuse to go home and nap for the rest of the afternoon, which is pretty much the smartest and most logical way to spend a public holiday. Write that down too, that’s the second thing you’ve learned here today.
I’m all out of insightful stuff to say now. I’ve got some Jones in the Fast Lane to play. I swear I’ll go the gym tomorrow. Maybe.
Apparently, the secret to getting things done, if you’re me, is to reach your monthly broadband allowance and have your internet slow down to a crawl for a few days. You’ll get so frustrated trying to load websites at dial-up speeds that you’ll actually unplug and do stuff. Offline stuff. It’s amazing. I got a decent amount of stuff done in those 48 hours. Like, a half marathon.
I’m not sure everyone is aware of this but, as it turns out, not training for half marathons (and not running much at all in the lead up to those), means you won’t have a very good time, in both senses of the expression. My time sucked a bit (not my fastest, not my slowest) and I didn’t exactly feel thrilled about running while I was out on that course. In fact, I kind of hated running a little bit during it. Not training certainly contributed to that, but the fact that 4 out of those 21km were on sand didn’t do much for my enjoyment either. Running on sand sucks and this is as politely as I can put it.
It’s no one’s fault but mine, though. The Orewa Beach Half is a really nice little local event, starting and finishing near the surf club on Orewa Beach. The course gives you a little taste of everything, with a loop that starts on the beach and takes you through bush, urban areas, and a park, before finishing on the beach again. There are no bib numbers and no time chips, just a clock near the start and finish line. You time yourself if you want to or you run for the fun of it. The volunteers are all locals and did a wonderful job of keeping everyone smiling along the course. Orewa residents come out for additional support and the whole race has a neat small town kind of amateur feel to it.
I hadn’t been running much in the weeks before Orewa, because I’ve been worried my IT Band issues might come back (this may or may not be the last time I complain about that). My longest run since Coatesville had been 10k and my weekly mileage hadn’t been anything to write home about so I wasn’t expecting miracles in Orewa. I could have enjoyed it more with some training but I think I was also having one of those off days when you’d just rather not run. I only really managed to get into it about 16k in and, soon after, the final stretch on the sand started. Running on sand always takes away my will to live. The best part, if you exclude the cute little girl handing out dinosaur-shaped lollies along the course, came after the finish line, when one of the organisers came up to me with a worried look on her face and asked if I really was over 16 years old. I laughed and told her she’d just made my day. Sweating bucket loads will make you look young, Like, really freaking young apparently.
I’m pretty happy to have gotten this one under my belt – I remember entering their 10k event a couple of years ago and jealously looking at the half marathoners, wishing I would one day, maybe, who knows, perhaps, hopefully become one of them.
So let’s look on the bright side: I managed to run another half (which brings this year’s total to 3 half marathons, plus the marathon, so far), my IT Band didn’t complain much, I got another start and finish line by the sea (my favourite), and I learned that if you don’t like running on sand, maybe entering events with “beach” in the name isn’t the thing for you. Or maybe you just need to harden up.
Speaking of hardening up, in sort of related news, I bought weightlifting gloves the other day. Watch out, world, one of these days I’ll start being able to open jars on my own. In all seriousness, I’ve realised the importance of working the entire body if you’re a runner and, one of these days, I’ll graduate from the baby-weights and join the grunting crowd. Maybe. That stuff looks like hard work.
The plan for today was to be jealous of people in Boston, running the world’s most iconic marathon. The plan was not to feel fortunate to not have been there. Then the plan changed. Instead, I decided to run a B-shaped (almost) 10km course as a tribute to the victims of the tragedy in Boston, where I was joined by two other fellow runners. It started and finished on the aptly named Boston Road in Auckland. We ran along our route chatting away about running events we’d entered, sharing tips and tales of running achievements. Not a sad word was spoken, except when we complained about the rain hitting our faces.
I followed the reactions on the internet all day today. Never had I seen Kathrine Switzer’s quote used more often than I did today. The first woman to run the Boston Marathon, back in 1967, famously said: “if you are losing faith in human nature, go and watch a marathon”. It has never been simultaneously as appropriate and inappropriate as today. The race famous in 1967 for Switzer’s entry is now famous for being the scene of a crime. Watching what happened at that finish line does nothing for anyone’s faith in human nature today.
But watching what happened after that does. There are a number of examples of people offering others a roof in Boston, or any other sort of help. The Red Cross doesn’t need any more blood because it got so many donations from selfless people. The NBC reported that some runners crossed the finish line and kept on running towards the hospital to give blood. People offered food, shelter and any kind of assistance to those who needed it. Humanity wins (Patton Oswalt has a good post today about that).
My thoughts kept drifting back to Boston today because, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m really into running. And Boston is, as many describe, the holy grail of marathon running. As runners, we’re part of the same tribe, a global community of like-minded people. Those were my people out there in Boston today, we’re part of the same group. Messing with my people messes with me.
Plus, this is a sport event. A charitable event. A symbol. The triumph of men and women going further than they thought possible. It is linked to camaraderie, to the best of the human spirit, to overcoming adversity. It’s not meant to be linked to any of this bombing bullshit. If an event like this isn’t safe, where’s safe? The sad realisation is that nowhere is safe. It’s hard to look at images of people with missing limbs and not lose faith in human nature, wherever those people are from.
Today sucked. It sucked in every direction. It sucked in Boston, and in Iraq, where lots of lives were also lost in explosions. It sucked in the Koreas (damn, just get along already!) and it sucked in a bunch of other places I won’t even mention here because this is a blog about running so I’ll ask you to go elsewhere for the news of all the suckiness in the world today. I’m going to focus on the good: I went for a run in the rain with two fellow runners, it felt great. On days like today, I feel even more fortunate to be part of this crazy community.
“If you are losing faith in human nature, go out and watch a marathon”, yes. If that marathon turns out to be a horrible tragedy, you can still admire the amazing feats of those who finished it (please, 2013 Boston finishers, don’t feel bad for bragging about your time!) and you can also admire the amazing acts of kindness that came out of it. That, if nothing else, should help restore that faith in human nature.
I hope you get out there and run today. Just because you can.
So much to talk about in general, so little to say in particular.
But I suppose I should update this place, especially since Mal Law’s review of my review last week brought so many new people over. Hi everyone, old and new. Sorry if you came here thinking there’d be something just as interesting to read. I got nothing.
Well, sort of. There’s stuff.
I managed not to forget my running gear at home and make it to the Adidas store in time for their weekly group run last week.
I’ve been getting my running groove back, slow and steady, ever since my leg stopped hurting a couple of weeks ago. Now that I’ve gone through my first period of injury and forced rest, I’m ultra careful about trying not to get hurt again. Those weeks without running were mental agony and if running less means I can avoid going through that stuff again, then I’ll be patient.
So that’s what I’ve been training lately – my patience and my discipline.
To say that I’m failing is a bit of an understatement. I’ve been running often but I’ve also been noticing how a Cadbury chocolate-based diet carries few fitness benefits (it’s one of those studies I had to conduct so you don’t have to. You can thank me later). My pace is slower, my legs are heavier (well, my everything is heavier) and, some days, I’m less motivated to run than Lindsay Lohan is to go to rehab. But it’s a phase, right? Coming out of injury is a funny stage to be in, a struggle between wanting to make sure you don’t completely lose your hard-earned fitness while also ensuring you don’t go out too fast and can recover 100% before breaking yourself again.
That’s AM, people. Not PM. I know, I’m shocked too.
As part of my efforts to stay motivated and to become more disciplined, I’ve done two things in particular lately, which are also #5 and #8 on my list of new year’s resolutions (yes, I’m still talking about those).
In the beginning of the month, I started a 30-day photo project (which explains the random photos you see appearing throughout this post). No themes to follow or any of that stuff, just me challenging myself to remember to take a photo a day and post it to Instagram. It’s not about taking 30 photos in a hurry on the last day of April, it’s about a consistent ongoing effort to complete an easy task every day. Much like training for a run, it is something that doesn’t allow for laziness or procrastination, something that you can’t just go and cram into the very last minute. Ask anyone – I’m the queen of last minute. So far, I’m doing okay-ish, but the first few photos were pretty much all taken in the last few minutes before midnight.
Morning run along Hobsonville Point last Sunday. Hello, Autumn!
The other thing I did in the interest of motivation was cough out $295 on Friday for the XTERRA trail running series pack. I could have sat here and promised that I’d run all 6 events this Winter but we all know that I’d find excuses to skip one or two, in favor of staying in bed or watching the Come Dine with Me omnibus that airs every Saturday morning. But nothing like seeing triple digits coming out of my account to get my butt into training mode. Excited? Yes I am.
Lastly, a few blogging words about blogging, just to be really meta. In the last couple of days, I got mentioned in the blogs of three awesome ladies: slowgirlfastdog, some kind of runderful, and barefoot marathon momma. They all thought I deserved one of those “Versatile Blog Awards”, which automatically makes them awesome so you should head to their blogs if you don’t read them yet. Anyway, the rules dictate that I link to them (done), post an image of the “versatile blog award” logo thingie
(hang on)
there you go.
And it also says that I have to list ten things about myself. I’ve done more than that a while ago, when I wrote the 40 things you don’t need to know about me and stuck it in the About page (go read it if you need to feel normal). I really can’t come up with 10 other things so pick 10 out of those 40 and be amused. Done. I’m also supposed to choose 10 or 15 bloggers (the rules differ on this) and nominate them for the award. Since I’m not sure what exact number to follow, I suppose I can just nominate everyone on my list of daily reads. Done.
A few hundred words about nothing in particular. Seinfeld would be proud.
Malcolm Law at the Pt Chev Bookshop and Resource Room, talking about his book, last month, four days after running 100km at the Tarawera Ultra.
I really dislike writing book reviews because whenever I read a disappointing book, I always feel like the horrible mean lady telling the mother their baby is ugly. So, instead, I just give them stars on Amazon and Good Reads and carry on with life assuming I didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings about their babies or their books.
When a book is really, really good, however, I have no problem writing a review. Look at the words flowing out of the keyboard, straight onto the WordPress screen like nobody’s business. This review? It’s practically writing itself.
First, the jist of it: One Step Beyond chronicles Malcolm Law’s crazy ass idea of quitting normal life and running New Zealand’s Seven Great Walks (in the mainland) in Seven Days to raise money for the Leukaemia and Blood Foundation (which is now called Leukaemia & Blood Cancer New Zealand). If you’re not from New Zealand and/or you’ve never heard of the Seven Great Walks, you can read about them here or you can just trust me when I tell you that this is one of the craziest ideas a runner could have (the equivalent of running 9 mountain marathons in seven consecutive days, having to make your way to all these remote places in different parts of the country).
The book documents the entire process from planning to training and execution, along with all the crazy bits in between. If you’re a runner, it’s the book you have been waiting to read. If you’re someone who likes adventure, it’s the book you have been waiting to read. If you love sitting on the couch doing nothing but deep down wish you were out there exploring, then you should already be halfway through this book. What are you still doing here?
By the time I first heard about Malcolm Law, a couple of years had passed since this first 7in7 adventure. His website was one of the first I discovered when I first started getting into trail running a couple of years ago. At the time, he was gearing up for his CoastPathRun an epic adventure to raise funds for Mental Health Foundation NZ. Mal at the time emailed me saying thank you for the donation to his cause (sending personal thank you notes to donors was important to him, as he talks about in the book) and I thanked him for the inspiration (I was training for a 35k trail, and felt like I needed all the extra inspiration I could find). From then on, I’ve followed his adventures closely (like that time he “climbed Everest in a day” in preparation for the CoastPathRun) and his website – a trail running bible for New Zealand – became a sort of manual of reference for me, whenever I want a new trail to explore.
In the book, he makes no secrets about all the work that went into organising 7in7, about the decision to quit his day job and run after his passion instead. The market analyst turned adventurer extraordinaire did exactly what each one of us secretly dreams of doing and turned his passion into his full-time job. What’s even more awesome, I hear you ask? He has single-handedly raised over a quarter of a million dollars to the Leukaemia and Blood Foundation in the process. Don’t even try to pretend that’s not what you want to do too.
One of the reasons it took me longer than usual to finish this book was because of the amount of times I got distracted and found myself drifting away, having flashbacks of past trail runs and an unbelievable envy of Mal for having dared to even dream to do something like the 7in7.
I’m pretty sure that was his point, though. He wanted to create that envy because it is that envy that gets you out there doing stuff. His premise is that, if he can do it, anybody can do it. Yes, even you. Or I. It’s the triumph of the “average” man. Mal doesn’t break any records other than the ones he sets for himself (which are pretty damn huge anyway). The point is, he’s just a regular person, not an elite athlete who’s been training for this his entire life. You know what that means, right? It means there’s hope. That if we suck it up and get out there like he did, if we harden up about the blisters and take the hills head on, we can do it too. That’s pretty damn exciting.
More importantly, though, he had a cause. He did it for his brother Alan, who died 40 years ago of Leukemia – something Mal could never quite get over. On his feet, during the adventure, his running shoes. Around his neck, the photo of his brother Alan, the real reason for this whole thing. Let’s get one thing straight: no one just decides that they feel like going for a massive seven-day trail run, up and down mountains and through rugged country. This was his way of finding closure for his brother’s death, an issue that had gone unresolved in his heart for 40 years. In the process, he helped a whole lot of people going through the same thing his family did back then. You know how running makes people awesome? It’s for stuff like this too.
By the time I got to the epilogue, last night, I was experiencing some weird symptoms: teary eyes (his son Beinn running the final few meters of the Kepler Challenge with him? Stop it, you’re making my heart hurt!) and really, really itchy feet, desperate to step on the trails.
If you think things have now gotten a little out of hand and he can’t get himself into anything crazier, think again. He’s plotting an even more outrageous adventure so keep an eye on Running Wild NZ for details. Also, that’s the same website where you can buy his book from, if you want to read an amazing story and get inspired to do epic stuff with yourself.
A surprisingly large number of people arrive at this little magical corner of the internet by searching for a training plan to help them prepare for a half marathon in two weeks time, which is crazy because I have no advice to give to anyone on anything, other than perhaps some tips on what ingredients can/should have chocolate sauce on top (answer: all of them). Anyway, search terms. This week, so far, for example:
My thoughts on each of the people who came here after searching for something similar to the above?
Two weeks to train for a half marathon sounds a little crazy to me so I look at those searches and I judge. Silly people, thinking two weeks is enough. Two weeks is nothing. Even if you’ve run before and half marathons aren’t that big a deal (although, considering you’re searching for a training plan, I think it’s fair to assume you feel like you need some guidance), two weeks is too short to properly train for anything that you’re so convinced you need to train for you even Google training plans for it.
So, hmm, yeah. Two week training plan, bad idea. Funny story: this morning, there was an email in my inbox. It was from the organisers of an event I apparently signed up for a month or so ago. They’re wondering whether I’m planning on walking or running the half marathon, as I apparently didn’t specify that in the form and they’re in the process of posting out the bibs to entrants. I quick hit reply and let them know I’m planning to run it, then opened a new tab and typed in the event’s website to remind myself when it was.
April 21st. Two weeks away.
For those who arrive here using those search terms I mentioned above, hi. Picture me cleaning up the egg off my face (I’d search for a suitable gif but I think I’ve reached my gif quote for this post). I’m one of you. And I have no clue either.
I guess only one piece of advice comes to mind, and I’m not too sure it counts as a training plan per se but… let’s hope for the best and plan things properly next time, alright?
To all the other sane people who arrive here by searching for other stuff, sorry about the lack of naked Ryan Gosling pictures. Also, any advice on how to train for a half marathon in two weeks is appreciated.
Thanks.
(On the plus side, knee pain update #589357: no knee pain. I’ve run on 7 out of the last 9 days. Short runs but, nevertheless, pain-free runs. You may very well never hear me complain about my knee again. Success!)
Fanny pack. Bum bag. Hip pack. Call it whatever you want, there’s no denying the lameness. Fanny packs are the Nickelback of bags and loving to hate them is one of those things that brings the world together.
The little waist pouches have been uncool since the beginning of time, even if it’s hard for me to admit it, as a former fanny pack wearer (about 25 or so years ago, because it was the 80s and I had to carry all my miniature toys somehow).
But you know what? You know what’s more stupid than the fanny pack? No, don’t say “nothing”. There’s one thing more stupid than the fanny pack – those stupid coin pockets they put in running shorts. What the hell am I supposed to fit in there? Don’t say “coins”. I’m a journalist, you know I have no money. Nothing – that’s what I carry in those stupid tiny square sacks.
After a first experience with a hydration belt that made me want to stay away from hydration belts forever (that thing bounced more than, well, something really bouncy), I still wanted an alternative to carrying gels, keys and cell phone on my hands on longer road runs (and the hydration backpack, while awesome, is a little too much for some of these).
You’ll notice I didn’t even go for the discreet black model. Nah. If you’re going to look stupid, do it in polka dots. Giant multi-colored polka dots, to be precise. However, since I wear it around my waist and my running tops usually fall slightly below the waist, no one really gets to admire the fanny pack in all its polka-dotted glory (but I know it’s there, I know that, deep inside, under that dri fit layer, I’m a proud fanny pack wearer).
I don’t even care, society. Judge away. This thing doesn’t move an inch (unlike the cheap hydration belt I’d bought before) and it means I only need to carry water (if I choose to) on my hand during those runs. I’ll still wear the hydration pack for longer distances, especially trails, especially since I carry everything except the kitchen sink in it, but, for other times, I’m a full Spibelt convert. I’m going to go ahead and declare this multi-colored pouch of shame my new favourite running accessory. There, it’s out there. Fanny pack wearer and proud of it.
Now you see it.
Now you don’t.
Now, just before I leave, a little disclaimer: super generic girl makes zero money (unbelievable, I know!). Spibelt doesn’t know I exist and paid me nothing for this post. I’m writing it because I really like the product and, just in case you’re also sick of carrying stuff on your hands while running, you might want to give it a try too. They have all sorts of different models, not just the basic one I went for. Go nuts and embrace the fanny pack.
Oh and also, while I’ve got my hands on the keyboard, a little bit of housekeeping: since Google Reader is on its way out, I’m finding other ways to ensure I get my daily dose of online procrastination in. I’ve signed up for Feedly and am on Bloglovin’ too. There’s always good old Facebook to keep track of new posts but I also finally sat down and started compiling a list of daily reads. I’m sure I’m still missing some but I’ll keep updating it as I remember.
Winter is fast approaching in the Southern Hemisphere and one of the most exciting things about it is the number of trail runs I intend to enter during this season. The XTERRA Winter series was one of the best things about last Winter and I’ve been missing tripping on roots and sliding down muddy trails.
I’m one of those “just in case” people who thinks it’s better to carry all your gear in and out of the bush unused than to run the risk of needing something in there and not having it. My theory has proven truthful in some cases and trail runs often have mandatory gear, to ensure runners are prepared for any situation they may encounter. I’m not sure I’ve got the perfect trail running backpack but nothing like a few good runs to show what is needed and what can be left at home. For now, here’s a rundown of what’s weighing me down in the bush:
1 – Hydration pack with bladder. This pack is just a Kathmandu one. It’s not my dream trail runner pack but it’s been doing the trick for me, until I decide to let go of the money for the pack I really want. It’s been serving me well, though. It’s a 9L pack with just enough spare room for all the trinkets I stock it with, along with a bladder full of water (and lately electrolytes like the Nuun you see in the picture).
2. (not pictured, because I forgot to take them out and can’t be bothered taking another photo) – running gloves. They’re regular running gloves by Nike, sort of like these, which I only bought because a trail run I entered listed them as mandatory equipment. During Winter, I’m always glad to have them.
3. Energy gels
4. Nuts
5. First aid kit. I’ve got a number of first aid kits at home so I gathered the most useful stuff out of them and combined them in a resealable plastic bag (to keep the weight down) for whenever I need it. Plasters (bandaids for you non-kiwis) have come in handy a number of times so I’m always happy to carry that little bag.
6. Chocolates. A trail run without a chocolate or ten along the way? Madness.
7. Ice spray. I’ve used this so many times I can’t even imagine setting out on a long run without it.
8. Whistle. Another item I bought because it was mandatory for a trail running event. Haven’t had to use it yet, thankfully, but wouldn’t want to die in the bush for lack of it. Plus, I think they cost about $2 for a pack of 3 so it’s hardly the item that makes trail running expensive.
9. Emergency blanket. I was already used to carrying this on hikes and have made it part of my trail running gear, again, after seeing it listed as mandatory for a trail run.
10. Sunscreen. Ok, that’s not always in the pack – mea culpa. But it’s a pretty important one.
11. Sunglasses. Not always, especially if you’re in dense bush, but they can come in handy sometimes. I don’t bother with expensive sunglasses anymore (once you break 4 or 5 pairs, while running, you turn to the $10 ones).
13. Cell phone. Even though there are a lot of parts of the bush that have no cell coverage, it always pays to have a way of communicating with others on hand.
14. Merino layer. It’s warm and lightweight so I carry one on most runs, just in case. I usually carry a lightweight waterproof layer too, another thing I forgot to include in the photo.
Am I missing anything? What do you always carry with you out on the trails?
I am going for a run for the first time in a week and a half soon after this post hits the internet. Bear with me while I bitch about my injury one last time.
I blame society.
Yes, you, society. You and your same-day delivery options, your one-click downloads and your food-in-a-minute recipes. I’m grumpy and it’s your fault.
Being a runner in the age of instant gratification is really freaking hard. I’m not the most patient person in the world anyway so dealing with something that involves slow continuous progress is hard enough, even if it’s something I enjoy. I put off watching movies with plots I find interesting if they’re over 2 hours long because my brain is no longer trained to wait 3 hours to find out what happens. Yes, it’s that bad.
Being injured and forced to wait for things to go back to normal has been a shitfest. I know, I know – the quickest route isn’t always the best and there are no shortcuts to happiness and all other assorted hippie crap you can think of. I’m over it.
This injury has been testing my patience. My patience is failing. F-, patience. Go home and think of what you’ve done.
I’m a proud member of the Instageneration for whom “now” is the only acceptable answer to any “when can I” question. All this sitting around waiting for aches to go away is not something today’s twentysomethings are equipped to deal with.
I’d felt it already during marathon training – the anxiety that comes with wanting to reach a certain level of fitness but actually having to work for it, no “buy now” or “express shipping” options available. It makes me wonder whether this would all have been easier for past generations, used to having to wait months for letters to arrive and having to hit rewind on their cassette players to listen to the same song again. I can deal with slow progress if it means I’m doing what I enjoy so the slow progress of training is not really a bother. But this? Sitting around doing the responsible thing waiting for the pain to go away? This is a slow ride to shitsville and I want to get off this bus and catch the express one.
I might regret this but today I’m finally going to lace up the running shoes again. Cross your fingers I won’t be typing the next post with a bag of frozen peas on my knee. But for now, patience schmacience.
super generic girl 