“How you feeling Drea?” Tamara asks me Saturday.
“No, how you feeling Ironwoman?”
“You got an awesome excuse,” I reply while picking off slabs of muddy wood chips from my calves. I looped with group around the varied terrain of eucalyptus torture aka the wood chips for six and a half miles of threshold effort. I maintained an appropriate effort level of 85%, but the lack of leg sizzle had me trailing from my pack by quite a bit. In other words baby tomato, I couldn’t ketchup. At least I smell like a spa. Best close your eyes for that visual because the sites don’t match the smells. In the now infamous words of my little sister, “Oh you got Eucalyptus trees here! So you got Koalas and stuff?”
[Snort] [Sigh] No, it never gets un-funny.
“Build, don’t strain,” Peter says with a shrug and a smile.
“Ahhhh thanks Peter! You know I’m going to cuddle those words and rock them all day long.” Really? No. Wise words they may be, but actually I’m going to go home, drink a bottle of chardonnay and cry because it’s my one day of the month to do that! Did you know they have iPhone apps that track “it” for your husband?
“Don’t call me snippy! I am not snippy! And why are you constantly checking that phone?”
“Oh,” he waffles, “I am just checking the weather…..[under the breathe, but still clear as Pinot Gris] right here.”
SNIFF! Being a woman is soooooooo extreme. Men are so simple. They run and pee standing up and they sit down to eat and poo. End of story. Extremely irritating. Extremely emotional. The word extreme is extremely over used. It’s extreme.
In the world of over labeling, extreme takes the tape. Extreme sports, Extreme Rock Band, Extreme Yogurt (ate there, it’s really good), Extreme Dog Walking….. How exactly is dog walking extreme? Would I want my dog (if I had a dog) to be extremely walked?
Extreme: a character or kind farthest removed from the ordinary or average: extreme measures; utmost or exceedingly great in degree: extreme joy; farthest from the center or middle; outermost; endmost: the extreme limits of a town; farthest, utmost, or very far in any direction; exceeding the bounds of moderation.
Ding Ding Ding! Exceeding the bounds of moderation. Ah ha! Yogurt can be extreme and Nooooooo I do not want my imaginary dog walked by you. And Yes, on occasion, perhaps once maybe even twice, I have behaved extremely. I’ll leave it at that as one doesn’t really need to attach the word badly or good- er-ly.
I snuggle into Peter’s words, “Build, don’t strain.” The hard part about that is letting go of wants- Today I want to run X at X pace to be able to run X at X later. Yes, of course, want want want….but if I truly push for numbers when my body is not ready, if each workout is extremely epic with fist punches to the sky powered by the glow of happy numbers- then I will end up extremely annoyed because I will be again at my extreme limits or very far in any direction from where I actually want to go.
In other words Skipper, run the effort and let the wood chips fall where they may. Ahh, that sounds nice. But just in case those chips needed some landing suggestions, I drew them a precise circle right over……there. OH, like you thought I would completely change? You too are extreme.
True to form it takes at least 4-6 weeks to recover dips in Ferritin levels and right on cue, I woke up a little more peppy Tuesday morning. Left over hill repeats were warmed up and served again only some were a little longer and some were a little shorter and the whole thing seemed a little harder especially when coach tagged on a surprise 4 more repeats at the end. I love surprises!
I felt good. I ran the appropriate effort because I had enough gas for the entire workout and felt good the rest of the day. There was a little more pep in my pop and a little extra punch in my stride. My breathing felt more smooth and my muscles more relaxed. It was nice to feel. Thanks Halo for removing the anvil from my chest. I really appreciate your extremely nice behavior. Now tell Chubbsie to “Build, not strain.” The God needs to stop straining all over the place.