Tag Archives: elliptical

Mile 315.5: I Know We’re Broken Up, But…

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“So be wise and keep on
Reading the signs of my body.”
–Shakira, “Hips Don’t Lie”

Miles last week: 52.5
Total miles: 315.5

Oh, Elliptical. I’m sorry–Lipty. I know you like it when I call you that.

I promised myself that we were through, but goddammit, I just can’t stay away from you.

The treadmill hasn’t been treating me too well lately, Lipty. I know it doesn’t mean to. It’s just that sometimes I push it, and the treadmill pushes back. It’s not the treadmill’s fault. It’s mine. This is what I get for trying to increase my running intervals, and right now, my left hip is paying for it. So, I’m feeling a little bit like an old lady and I need a friend.

That’s why I’m here. Well, that and the fact that all of the treadmills were taken the other day. I can’t believe that bastard is cheating on me on top of everything else. What a jerk. Do you have any cake? No–wait. Don’t answer that.

I suppose I’m a little lucky, though. Seeing no available treadmills sent me back to you and made me realize that you wouldn’t hurt me like the treadmill. With you, I’ve never questioned whether I should start looking into joint replacement.

Don’t take this for more than it is, Lipty. I’m only here because my left hip has decided to start protesting higher impact and I’m trying to prevent self-injury. I’m out of here after my new Dr. Scholl’s Sport Insoles (which are specifically made for all-day shock absorption and stress on the lower body joints) start to kick in and I feel a little more like my normal, older-than-young-adult self. This is purely physical.

SportInsoles

I had to buy the boy ones.

Don’t look at me like that, Lipty. I can’t help it. I need the treadmill. But right now, I need a little safety.

We’ll have fun while it lasts, though.

Mile 1680: Ponderings from the Elliptical

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“Why am I not scared in the morning?
I don’t hear those voices calling.”
–twenty-one pilots, “Ode to Sleep”

Miles Last Week: 60
Total Miles: 1680

Several people have told me that they don’t like the treadmill or elliptical because they get bored while using them. I see their point–you’re doing a lot of moving without going anywhere–but I’ve also found that I get a lot of thinking done on the elliptical. Since you don’t have to worry about getting lost or anything, you can let your mind wander freely. Here are just a few random, sometimes slightly paranoid things I’ve found myself considering over the course of many miles.

Think, think, think, think.. Source

Think, think, think, think..
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“How to fix my novel…hmmm…”

“Aw, man. What am I going to blog about this week? Oh, look. That beetle just fell over on it’s back.”

“If I lost my balance and fell off this thing, I bet my foot would get stuck between the pedals but I would keep falling, causing my tibia to rip through my skin. And of course, it’s Sunday morning and no one else is here, so I would probably bleed to death because I would be knocked unconscious. My phone would slide across the room, anyway, so even if I did wake up, I probably wouldn’t be able to get my foot unstuck so that I could army crawl across the room to call 911–which would really just exacerbate my terrible injury. And army crawling looks hard, especially with a horribly broken tibia.”

“I’m going to die in this gym.”

“Why are sports things always on the big televisions? I really feel like we’re perpetuating a stereotype, here.”

“Maybe I should try stand-up comedy or join an improv class or something.”

(Side note–roughly eighty percent of the podcasts I listen to are hosted by or involve comedians. This may or may not be related.)

“Oh, no, I probably shouldn’t do stand-up comedy or improv. I would cry the first time I got heckled.”

“IF I DON’T FIND WHERE THIS ANNOYING, ROGUE STRAND OF HAIR STICKING TO MY FACE IS ATTACHED SOON I’M GOING TO MURDERPUCH THIS ELLIPTICAL.”

“I wonder what Benedict Cumberbatch is doing right now. Probably something charming and awesome.”

“Dang it. That person is facing this general direction. I can’t pick my wedgie right now.”

“Why does my foot keep falling asleep? I’m constantly moving. There’s probably something wrong with me.”

“I wish the monitor on this thing had access to my DVR.”

“I bet having a podcast is fun.”

“Why do the Silence on Doctor Who wear suits? That’s not very scary. They look like they’re going to a wedding. Sure, they also have bulbous heads with no mouths and can either zap you with lightning or give you suggestions that you’ll follow but not remember because you won’t ever remember seeing the Silence at all–but suits? I mean, what are they, some kind of Secret Service religious order that has the power to shape all life on Earth but that we don’t know exist because we forget about them when we aren’t looking at them? Oh, wait. That actually is kind of scary.”

“I’m hungry.”

I don't know why I added a blank image. I had the weirdest urge to do it. Source

I don’t know why I added a blank image. I had the weirdest urge to do it, though.
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Mile 349.5: The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week

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“When all you got to keep is strong,
Move along, move along, like I know you do.”
–All-American Rejects, “Move Along”

Miles Last Week: 46
Total Miles: 349.5

Last week was a bad week, and for a lot of reasons–except for Friday. Friday was good.

We don’t need to talk about most of the reasons that some people might have seen a slightly murder-y glint in my eye at times. We should, however, reflect on a couple of things:

I felt like I was dying every day at the gym.
There was pain. So much pain. And soooo much sweat. Even though I didn’t change any of my workout, my legs were on fire halfway through it. I didn’t want to sacrifice any miles, so I slowed my speed and upped the incline just to feel like I was doing something. I still felt like I was slogging through a tar pit–a tar pit on fire. Every day. I did make myself go the usual distance, but my legs were definitely not happy about it.

I ate terribly (well, slightly more terribly than usual).
There may have been a few too many snacks… and Reese’s peanut butter hearts… Goddammit, why are they so delicious? I might also still be eating emotionally due to the Sherlock finale. It was intense, guys.

I gained two pounds.
I know that people fluctuate and that it’s silly to dwell on a relatively small gain, but the most frustrating thing is that I knew before I weighed myself yesterday that I had put on a couple. I could feel it. Of course, I feel exactly the same after losing fifty pounds, but when I’m a little bigger, suddenly I’m like “WHAT IS GOING ON?”

I’ve had bad weeks throughout this project, but nothing quite like this so far. I don’t recall regaining that much weight in one week or having that much trouble on the elliptical since I started this thing last April. And to top it all off, I can’t honestly say that I’ve lost fifty pounds, anymore.

Much like Alexander, who had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day in Judith Viorst’s children’s book, I am just going to accept that everyone has bad days/weeks at some time or other and move on. Even if there are people who have perfect weeks all the time, I think I’ll just lie to myself about it. Sometimes, there’s nothing wrong with a little denial.

The good news is that there were no invisible, inflamed tar pits at the gym today–that I know of, anyway. We’ll see about tomorrow.