(G) When Lowi and I were kids we used to go sledding behind our Grandma and Grandpa Fry’s house. We’d ride snowmobiles or four-wheelers out to this awesome sledding hill that ran directly into the Little Darby Creek.
If you were lucky enough to hit the right groove you’d fly down the hill and make it all the way to the creek — all of us squealing in delight on the way. If you had a little too much luck you’d end up on the frozen creek. Still squealing but a little less delight, at least for me.

Anyway we had all been instructed that if we thought we’d end up on the creek to bail off the sled.
Needless to say, the adults in the bunch were yelling “bail off” most of the time.

Funny how that’s a lot like my day on Sunday when I heard my mind shouting “Bail Off.” This was, however, not in reference to some impending danger. There was no potential for hypothermia in a partially frozen creek. No, this was just my mental fatigue talking.

I had gotten all in my head and it seems that double digits were not in my future. In fact, my struggling reached such a fevered-pitch that Johnny Armani and I ended up in a little spat on the trail. With every difficult mile that passed and clearly with a total of 9 miles, there weren’t that many, I felt worse about myself.

“Why was this so hard? What is the problem?”
The analysis made it worse. Instead of following sage ultra advice that ‘whatever you are feeling it won’t last,’ I lost my focus.
I let the misery of the moment taint the miles of the past that weren’t so bad and even ruin the miles I hadn’t even gotten to yet.

I had more than broken the commandment of running: Run the mile you are in!!!

I mentally was everywhere BUT the mile I was in. In a fit of anger/defeat, that was really directed at myself. I told Johnny Armani that when we got back to the car, where we usually refuel and grab some snacks, that we may as well go home.

Part of me was relieved and the other part of me, the crazy part possibly, hoped he’d cajole me into continuing. But he agreed. Clearly he, like me, was maxed out on my insanity.

So we got back to the car and I thought, for a moment, about asking him if we could continue on… for a few miles but I threw in the towel. I was sick of myself.

After a few hours of pouting I decided I would hit the treadmill. I thought that not at least getting 15 miles would just be a disaster. That’s when Johnny intervened into this little hallucination with some reality. I will spare you all the talking down off the ledge that followed but I did not run or walk any further.

To be honest the early part of the week was not really much better. I did get all my planned miles in but they were all a struggle. Getting back in the groove after traveling proved to be more difficult than I hoped. Or maybe it’s just a bad week. I am committing to not thinking about it any longer.

It’s not all doom, gloom and crazy stories from our childhood!
#September 100miles
After all that kvetching I did manage to hit 105 miles as of Sunday. Needless to say a reality check most likely was in order for me.

Ab challenge
It’s a challenge to be sure. I am on track but it’s a tough one. With the sit ups, crunches, leg raises and planks you get a little bit of all kinds of core crushing. And as the floor is apparently feline domain, I always have help.

10-minute yoga challenge
I’ve missed a few days here and there but overall I have stuck to this really well. I feel like it’s been a great addition to my evening routine and on the days I get it in, I sleep much better. And what better way to spend 10 minutes than breathing fully, stretching gently and spending some time in quiet.

Here’s to next week having a little less frozen creek and a little more squealing delight.

(L) Becoming PocaLocaLowi

The last couple of weeks have been tough, I’m not going to lie.  While G is out racking up mile after painful mile I have been not only contemplating my demise, but actually succeeding at it.  It started with the fried chicken and mashed potatoes in Nashville and the back injury from last November rearing it’s ugly head.  Getting out of bed the last couple of weeks has proven to be an exercise in pure will.  After two weeks, I know that if I just get up and stretch, my back will begin to let go and I will feel better.  So, in essence I am doing my own version of the 10-minute Yoga challenge.  I am pretty sure that isn’t how it was intended, but its getting the job done!

Because my back has been has been like a 4th child needing constant assistance I have been sticking to a walking routine.  The miles are not accumulating like G’s, but forward motion is happening.  I am losing patience and gaining pounds so this back thing better start working itself out.  I have given it an ultimatum and by the end of the week the running is going to return whether my flexibility has or not.  So, my September 100 mile challenge is dead and buried.  I hate to admit it and I even considered a last ditch effort like the one in July, but I don’t have it in me.  If you could see me now my head is hung low in defeat.

I am a little behind in the Ab Challenge and I have had to modify one of the exercises to not further irritate my back, but I am doing it.  Besides my inadvertent Yoga Challenge success it’s the only other thing I have going for me right now.

So, to wrap up this torture report let’s just say G may have bailed, but I definitely fell in the creek this week!  Can someone please come fetch me!

Sunshine & Sarcasm,

Lowi & G

 

Tuesday’s Torture Report is a running log of our progress as we train toward fitness, specific races or our latest exercise-related obsession. Lowi’s working toward Becoming Pocahontas and G’s latest adventure goal is Croatan 24. To read last week’s torture report click here.