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Tuesday was all “Hello Oval.  Missing me?”  The oval sat quiet.  Doormat of an oval!  She doesn’t care if I run all over her.  Well, I’ll just do my workout and be on my way.  My workout seemed completely doable.  After all, I’ve done it before only a lot faster.  OK, OK, there was slightly more (heh hum more than double) the rest in the previous sleeker faster workout, but it was sooooooo much faster that this should not be thaaaaaat bad.

4x2K @ 85 with 2 minutes rest in between each set.

I didn’t really think much about this workout until I started to do it.  First set- 85.  Ah-ha!  Good listener that I am, I bounce down the track sucking in sweet heavy oxygenated air on my plush two minutes of recovery.  La La La.  Second set- 85, 86.  Oops.  Drat.  I slipped.  I bounce a little less into my somebody-sat-on-this-cushion two minutes of recovery.  Third set- 87 and dripping like a pig.  Heave.  I barely trot into my really-only-two-farting-minutes of recovery!  I stick my tongue out at Rusty and plough into the fourth set.  T2 cuts the grass to sink me a life line.  I run behind him burning holes into his blue shirt.  ”You trying to run 87 Drea?”  I don’t have the energy to tell him that it was supposed to be 85.  Sigh.  Yep, 87 sounds like a good idea or maybe….88?  Cheese and Sprinkles!

“Well that’ll teach you,” I relay to Rusty while wiping my face.

“Yeah, you looked a little bouncy in those 2 minutes,” he smiles beneath his ball cap, “One fast 400, take some time.”

I love lining up for a 400 under the explicit direction of- make it hard, but not all tense, but really hard, but don’t go out all out, but don’t save it, but make it fun, but make it hurt, but not too much, just enough, be easy….

I start into the single lap….

“But make it hard!”

My pigeon brain pulls the reigns to the first 200 (37) and then lets them go through the second (34)= 71.  ”Hey,” Rusty says, “You negative splitted.”

“Yep, I just did what you told me to.”   I think.

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Want another lesson?

This SUNDAY April 29th, I will be teaching a complimentary mat class at LuLuLemon from 9:30-10:30am.  Just bring a mat.

“OH!” Laura says, “It’s free!?”

“Yes,” I reply with snickers, “Try to get out the door without spending money!”

I will try to make you too tired to lift a credit card.  It’s the least I can do.  Oh don’t really worry about that.  I mean, the super friendly staff at LuLu will be happy to help swipe your card.

Oh LuLu.

I promise this will be fun!

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Other news!  FrugalDad listed TwoMotivate as one of its top 50 running websites.  Please check them out.

TOP RUNNING SITES

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“I really enjoy your blog Drea,” Ralph tells me at track, “But you know, a lot of the time I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

Hold on Kris, the road is about to get windy.  Stay with me baby.  I have a reoccurring dream.  I can’t remember how long ago this dream began, but it has been years.  In the dream, I am driving a car, not always the same car, on a steep road, not always the same road.  However, the scenario is a match.  The road begins to rise in an unsurmountable incline and no matter how much I gun the gas, my wheels begin to spin and eventually my car tips backward just before I reach the top.  I watch the blue sky flash through the front windshield as I plummet backwards and now airborne falling trapped inside my vehicle.  I wake up.

Click-click.

Don’t take notes.  That dream analysis is obvious.  No Freud degree required as this is bar talk simple.  Pick a topic, any topic, I can make that dream fit to perfectly reflect my latest or longest itch.  My mind spins like my wheels and IF I just get THERE then I will be on top and I can relax, but I NEVER get there.  The road is too steep.  I tumble backwards.

Uh-DUH, pick a new route.

Thanks.

Saturday’s workout was one of my worst in a while.  Yeah not really because the numbers sucked, and they did.  Yeah not really because the feeling associated with these sucky numbers sucked, and they did.  But really because the mind associated with the sucky numbers and suck suck feeling sucked.  How many times can I say suck?  1,231.  I’m just answering the question.

No matter how many times Mike and Tim smelled bacon, I did not get to say, “That’ll do Pig.”  It was an off workout.  No big deal.  So why the reminder from coach to smile?  A while ago my friend told me, “I can’t really imagine training this hard if I wasn’t getting any better.”

That struck my suck nerve.  What?  Look that hot little dinner date named Personal Record hasn’t so much as even called in two years.  Every once in a while she flirts with me in workouts, but when it matters it’s all….“Drea?  I’m sorry, I don’t know her.”  You know me beotch!  Now come back over here and give me a kiss!

I run for multiple reasons all highlighted in one neon marker glowing because-I-love-it.  But yes, I would LOVE to get better.  I would LOVE to not get injured.  I would LOVE to stay in this little happy place of relaxation and drive that I have found.  It’s a sweet little pool and you are invited as long as you don’t pee in it.  I have had a great time going out of town to other races and not PR-ing and getting my ass kicked.  Honestly, it has been a fantastic spring.  I do not fear getting my clock cleaned, but I do fear getting wound up by fault of my own insecurities.  Sigh.  I am not perfect.

“Um, I know you know this, but nobody thinks you’re perfect.”

OH COME ON!  Some one out there thinks I am perfect?  Anyone?  Hello?  You sir?  Didn’t you call me a work of art?

“I said, Piece of work.”

Same-Same.

There is a fantastic child’s book that I read to my children, but really I read it to myself….over….and over.  It is called Zen Shorts by Jon J Muth.  I always want to call this book Zen Pants and then am constantly surprised when I pick it up and see Zen Shorts.  The book revolves around a giant Panda, no not Poe, who teaches lessons to three young children through telling them real Buddhist literature.  My favorite story goes like this- I will shorten it a lot.

Two traveling monks are by the water and a rude lady wants to get across without getting wet.  Her attendants are busy carrying all her crap and can’t possibly carry her too.  She snaps at the monks to help her out.  The young monk ignores her.  The old monk picks her up and carries her across the water and sets her down on the other side.  She doesn’t thank him.  The two monks hike along the rest of the day.  The old monk is a happy guy and the young monk is cross.  Finally the young monk loses his temper and questions how the old monk could not be bothered by the ungrateful and demanding behavior of the lady.  The old monk smiles to the young monk and says……. “I put that woman down a long time ago, why are you still carrying her?”

POW!

Oh, I gotta stop picking up women!  I mean, wait, look PR might not want to go out with me, but Grudge, she won’t stop texting, calling, popping in with coffee and beets like we’re sisters.  I can hold a grudge like I can hold a plank.  Have you been to class?

One of the tricks to being happy is achieving the true ability to Let Go.  Let It Go.  The space rented in your own head to grievances is a choice.

Now Ralph, are you still with me?

Hello?

Ralph?

Bye Bye Fanny Pack!  Not that I EVER wore one EVER.  It was more like this, “MOM take OFF the FANNY PACK!  That’s disgusting.”  I mean, I said it in my own sweet special way that didn’t hurt her feelings at all.

Hello Boobie Pack!!!!  Now we’re talking!  Think about it.  Would you like to stuff your ass?  No.  Would you like to or have you ever stuffed your bra?  Admit it!  You run with GU, wipes, iPods, sunglasses, chapstick, cell phones, car keys, doggie bags, breathe mints (never know who you gonna meet) and where OH where do you stuff it?  Up your butt?

Nope.  You stick it in your tits.  Big ones, little ones, doesn’t matter ones, a bra is just one chest strapped handbag. 

BUT Woe is Woman….the chaffing!  The bits of Shot Blocks that crust to your chest….the GU that is heated to 98 degrees liquid mag-ma….the lost chapstick in a canyon….. OK I have never had this problem!!!!  Witness true story below:

Margo: I can’t run because I had a biopsy and you can’t run and not have things jiggle.

Me: Yes I can.  Nothing jiggles.

Margo: Oh well, I wouldn’t wish this upon you.

Me: Big boobs?  No that would be a terrible thing to wish upon any flat chested girl.

BUT some women lose their chapstick.  Hell, some women could probably lose a roast beef sandwich…..but…..no matter what…..we stuff.  Well, LuLuLemon now has this new bra called The Marathon bra and wait for it….It has POCKETS!

I demonstrated my kangaroo Ta Tas to Saturday’s group and frankly, my chest hasn’t gotten that much attention since nursing.  LOOK AT MY BOOBS EVERYBODY!  THEY HAVE POCKETS!!!

Now that is a smart bra.  That’s using the old melons melon.

The actual running?  It’s moving along.  Saturday’s workout was alright.  I felt alright.  My paces were alright.  It was just a workout and I still felt a little tired from Tough Enough.  Tuesday I was back on a quiet track.  The previous two weeks of track work I had notified my dear coach that, “These paces are too easy.”

“Too easy for what?” he replied.

Gulp.  Can I have my little stone that I threw over there back please?

Tuesday, I headed back to my car post track to find my phone a glow.  ”How’s the workout?”

Like he had to really ask.

It started off good.  We did a cycle of fast 200′s and the recovery was to run a slightly slower 200 before I ran a much faster one.  What?  Exactly.  Little to nope on recovery.  I got through the first set punching the numbers on the fast sets and sort of skidding through the slow sets like a cat crossing ice.  In other words, I tasted lung.  Second course was a pile of 800s.  Last week I did a bunch of 400s slower than these 800s.  But, I got through those on target too and to Margo’s delight, “Wow!  I can hear you breathe!”

Yep.  That’s how I roll.  Just breathing everyday….breathing.  The old in and out.  Margo, darling, I’m pretty sure Rusty could hear me breathing from the tarmac in bean town.  Braker Braker.  Yep over Red Rusty relay the message.  That’s it, break her break her.

Third course was a second helping of these 200 devils.  Fast-slow-fast-slow.  This felt like surfing.  No, not the kind of surfing where you actually stand up on the board.  The other kind.  The only kind I know.  The kind of surfing where you stare at the waves and you imagine yourself riding it.  Oh, you look great.  You look in control.  You paddle out and to your surprise….you get pummeled.  Your breathe is stolen while your body rotates through a washing machine of sea foam.  Up you pop spastically sucking in oxygen only to get pounded by another wave.  You turn and swirl in the sea flinging your body upwards toward the light.  Up you pop to spit and suck a sorrowful inhale of air and salt right before another freaking wave pounds you back to the churning floor.  Eventually the set brakes and you paddle towards shore dragging your board behind you.  Did you have fun surfing?

Yep.  Yeppitdy.  Yep.  I love those fast-slow 200′s.  Can I have another!?

Over-Over.

The next session of Santa Barbara Running Strong core foundation class will be held for nine weeks starting April 27th and finishing June 22nd.  SBRS is a mat Pilates class designed to develop and strengthen the core and stabilizing muscles that a runner needs in order to support an efficient stride all the while helping to prevent injuries.  Class is limited to 20 participants.

Please contact: drea@twomotivate.com to sign up.

SBRS is held at the Santa Barbara Running Company in Goleta Friday mornings 6am-7am.  The cost is $100.  Please bring your own mat.

Here are some frequently asked questions and comments:

Is this a mom’s class?  No.  I am a mom.  There are other mothers.  I might make you want yours.

Is this an all girls class?  No.  Almost 50% of participants are men.

Oh!  But I WANTED an all girl class!  Sorry.  You don’t get to be the only dude.

Yes, please sign me up for Hurt for Runners.  They meant the good pain….because they keep coming back!

Counting has now been associated with pain.  Good pain!

You have become a pain in my ass.  Good pain!

I used to be afraid of you.  Um, I’m not sure what changed.