training

The humble brag.

| cheriarmour

I did this the other day.
Humble Brag

I know guys.  It’s not quite the a humble brag, which is defined as, 
a brag statement artfully planted within a slightly deprecating statement; used in order to conceal pride that would otherwise be apparent by Urban Dictionary, but almost. It’s kinda like when you post a status about that 20-miler, but you do it under the guise of “Ugh omg, annoying Family Guy was totally on when I was running my 20-miler at an 8:47 pace. Gross!” What I did would slightly be considered the humble brag because I was sort of letting folks know I work out.  But it has a place.  As annoying at it is, the humble brag has a valuable place in health and fitness. 

The following morning, my alarm went off at about 5:20 am, and I briefly considered closing my eyes, and going back to sleep. But I remembered that I’d posted that I was going to Yoga, and then the thought of deceiving my friends and family, or not being accountable for what I’d said I’d do really made me feel uncomfortable.  Plus, I wanted to get my Yoga on!

So say what you will about people who post the details of their workouts on social media, and no, we’re not talking about you who posted about tying your shoes too tight, let’s not get into the minutiae of how your workout went, however, posting about your 5k, posting about nailing a pose in yoga, posting about hitting the gym 5 times instead of your usual 3, for example, is okay, and encouraging, both to others, (believe it or not, family and friends may be inspired by your actions), and it holds you accountable to a WHOLE LOT of people.  So keep up the humble brags.  Well, sorta, I don’t care if you’re gonna be douchey about it, but if it keeps you accountable?  Keep it up!

I saw the coolest thing yesterday.

| cheriarmour

When I first started teaching Zumba, one particular semester, (I’d started at State when I was in grad school) there was a pregnant woman who would always, always, come to my class.  She would wear this purple shirt, and hold her belly when the moves got a little too nuts for her.  It was almost her way of saying, “Chill out, not everyone in this class is 19, please respect that.”  It was a good reminder for me.  She would take it easy when she had to, she wouldn’t jump or anything crazy like that.  She always wore this purple shirt, and I believe she Zumba-ed til like 8 weeks before her due date.  She was safe, she seemed to know her limitations, and she stayed in awesome shape throughout her pregnancy.

“Isn’t that thing gonna fall out,” a few friends asked, astonished, when I’d mentioned it.

Cause that’s exactly what pregs wants to hear, while she’s afraid of eating fish, taking a sip of wine, and carrying a Birken that’s too big, that her baby is going to fall out of her vagina when she’s on the elliptical.  How else can we make women feel incompetent as mothers, folks, please, let me hear it!

But I digress.  I was driving home, I think from my own workout on Sunday evening, and was cruising down ridge road when I saw her.

The first thing I actually noticed was that she was wearing a cute top, I’m pretty sure from Lululemon, and it was in a cool color.  A kind of lime, and she shared my taste, as she was rocking the 3/4 running tights with it.  And then I realized, this woman who was cruising at a pretty decent pace?  Was a mom-to-be, probably well into her second trimester, and she was tearing up the sidewalk.  I’m inspired.

I now have no excuse to skip out on any of my workouts or any of my runs, if this mom to be can harness her inner goddess, well hell?! When is my excuse ever good enough?

Do as I say, not as I do.

| cheriarmour

You guys, it’s not that I think I’m above running law.  It’s just…idk, I sometimes think I’m smarter than everyone in the world. Do you ever get that sensation? No? Oh, me either…

Anyhoo.

So you know that whole rule of thumb, with running shoes right?

Buy your running shoes a half size to a full size larger than your dress shoe so that when your feet swell (and they will) you don’t get a sore toenail/lose a toenail.

Did I listen?  No.  Cause I’m smart and I know everything.  And then toward the end of last week, when my body started to get tired, the throbbing in my toe started.

piggies

I hobbled about, rubbing it when whenever I got the chance, but there’s no dodging it. Ya gotta follow the rules and buy the shoes in the right size. Your big toe will thank you. Those size 10s (yes, I’m 5’8″ and a size 10.5,) will have to hang out by their lonesome this week.

Is this real life?

| cheriarmour

Planner

So first things first.

I was cleaning (omg right?!) and I found that dang pink planner under the giant orange duffel I’d packed for camp. Good thing I already purchased a Deluxe Planner for $16.95 and I’d already reworked my marathon training in the Deluxe. So I think I need to do something with that pink planner, like only put bills and dinner or something in it and save the deluxe for everything else. But I digress.

I think I made a boo-boo in my marathon training.  

I know.  Shocking.  I made a mistake?!  But I did.  Let me explain.

I think I didn’t really get into the thick of marathon training til about 9 weeks out from my last one.  I’m not sure why that was, but I think some of it was because, in the back of my mind, I perform a little bit better under pressure.

This time, however, I started training plans like 17 weeks out.  Which was a mistake.  Because the runs that far out are like “blah blah, run like for a second, you’re DONE!” and because I’ve been doing it for a little longer, that didn’t help me to take it seriously.  Tip to self for next time?  Don’t start your training program so far out!  Cause then, it’s not real.  Hey, I’m not a total expert, kay?

So I’m like 10ish weeks out now, and I think all systems are actually go for my October 26th marathon.  Here we go!

If you’re one of those girls who’s been planning your wedding forever, cool.

| cheriarmour

And if you want to pretend like you’re not, don’t forget, I can see your Pinterest posts publicly. (But helpful hint, you can privately Pin stuff so your future boyfriends don’t get scared off.)

But I’m not one of those girls. Sure, I’d toss around ideas like, ooh maybe I’ll wear this! Maybe I’ll invite such and such. I have to make sure to learn to Dougie before I wed! You know, stuff like that. But to say I know what I’m wearing, what colors would be featured, what the decor and set-up of the room would look like, I have no idea.

And for those of you who think you know what you want. I won’t say you’ve wasted your time, but hear me out. You may want to just start fresh with ideas when your time to plan comes cause….

I went wedding dress shopping yesterday. Oh yes, this part, I had in my head. I saw myself, a tall, leggy model like the ones in the magazine. Flowy. So chic. Yet so relaxed. So innovative! No one had ever seen a dress like mine before. So I took my bestie, Michael, and off we went.

I put on at first this lace number that was supposed to look something like this.

lace-low-cut-wedding-dresses

And when I put it on, every person in the room gasped in horror. Michael. The woman helping me. And the two women that were there for the moral support of their bride-friend. It was awful once I got it on my body. It didn’t move. I had no hips. They even tried to sash it to make it manageable. And no dice.

Maybe I’ll look good in a gauzy destination gown, I thought to myself. So I popped a champagne-colored, chiffon number on.

Less horrid, but still pretty bad.

“Do you have anything mermaid-y?”

Again, I winced. The dress made me look like I was going for my 5th wedding, and like I was trying to recapture my youth.

After a few of these, I found one. Obviously, I’m not going to tell you what it was, because you’re just going to have to wait, like everyone else, but here’s my advice, as an almost-married lady. Try it on. Go visit these places. What you have going on in your head? Not necessarily what the deal will be in real life. Good luck, brides 🙂

A fail-tale…

| cheriarmour

So yesterday, I almost considered skipping out on a day of my one-mile streak because I was kinda tired, and it was raining sort of hard.

One of those summer storms in North Carolina.  But the thought of making it to the end of the streak (where you run a mile a day, every day between Memorial Day and the 4th of July, making for 39 consecutive days of running), and having skipped today over a dumb little reason made me feel bad.  And I dragged myself up to trot the one mile (after I’d taught a Zumba class).

Turnt up the iPod.  Blurred Lines.  Actually model-strutted a few steps.  Looked around.  Practiced my dance moves, should one of my friends play it at their wedding.

I swiped my finger across my Garmin 610.  And waited for the satellites to load.  ::vibrate:: they’re loaded!

Started Blurred Lines again.  Robin Thicke, you so sexy.

And off I went.  “This isn’t so bad!  You’re good!  This feels so good!”  Trotted around the corner of Peace Street.  Happened to glance down as Robin told me to “Shake ya rump!” and my GPS was off.  Because I hadn’t pressed start.  Fail.  Fail. Fail.

Oh well.  At least I got up and did it.  I’ll remember to press the start button next time.

 

Disgusting things that happen to you when you run.

| cheriarmour

Still at my parents’.  And being home has afforded me the opportunity to take care of my mom, but also to work out a ton, and run a lot.  Like.  To the point where I have become so sexy, that my Raleigh friends are gonna be all “Whaaaaa” when I roll up in my Lancer. 

So I’m running yesterday.  And I really’d hit my groove.  Cruising down this hilly country road.  About  a mile-and-a-half from home.  And it hits me.  

Evidently, there’s a some sort of *ahem* poo treatment plant hidden behind the hills of gorgeous Weddington.  It’s pretty steamy out here, and I guess it, like, cooked the smell.  Because midway through my run, I literally doubled over, and had to feebly cover my nose with a finger as the smell of steamed poop assaulted me.  So much for the thrilling, reflective, country run I was going to blog about.  

Then I go to wash all my stanky clothes I’ve built up from the last week.  Pull them out after they were washed.  Did the sniff test.  And they still stank.  Pretty girls don’t smell too pretty, right Tyra?  (10 points for anyone who can name the Top Model candidate who said that).  And I left my Sport Wash back in Raleigh, so I had to fashion some out of white vinegar, and Wisk.  Ugh.  Good luck to me.  Running is not for the faint of heart. 

This is kind of a serious question.

| cheriarmour

Well, as serious as I possibly get.

So you guys know, Sex and the City continues to be one of my favorite shows.  My roommate freshman year had all the seasons on DVD, and we lived together for all four years in college, so we made our way through each and every episode a multitude of times.

My favorite SATC moments? Questions that have arisen from SATC?

  • When Aiden was going to propose to Carrie, and she found the ring.  AND IT WAS GOLD AND PEAR-SHAPED?!  And then come to find out that MIRANDA HAD HELPED HER FIND IT?!  Like what in the world?  What kinda friend…
  • Why did Carrie screw it up with Aiden?  Big is fine or whatever, but Aiden was a catch.  An absolutely catch.
  • Remember when Miranda threw out her neck running that marathon (with that weirdo guy), and Aiden came over and picked her up off the ground?
  • Charlotte’s random classes she always was in.  The tap class and the African dance class were my personal faves.
  • Ugh, totally screw that Berger guy.  He was not a man.  How do you break up with a girl on a Post-It note because she’s more successful than you?
  • The entire SATC movie was a favorite moment.  It was dazzling.
  • When Samatha fed Carrie during her “honeymoon” without Big.

But enough of that.  Onto the real question.

Carrie Bradshaw

Carrie claims her only cardio is shopping. Carrie smokes (gross). Carrie complains when she has to walk Pete, Aiden’s adorable dog, and she does so in these impossible shoes. If all this is true, and Carrie is not sneaking in time on the elliptical and lifting in between writing her column and breaking Natasha’s teeth (10 points for whomever can describe that episode to me!), than how are Carrie Bradshaw’s abs so impeccable?  Can anyone answer me that?

5k Update!

| cheriarmour

So I started to get a little itchy when I was at home.

I’ve been keeping up with all my workouts.  I’ve been spending more time in the gym, and if you live on the East Coast, you understand why.  It has stormed nonstop just about every day since I’ve been home.  But after my visit to Charlotte Running Company, and my discovery of that 5k series about an hour away, I signed up, and there I was! 

First off.  I have never been so late to a race in my life.  I rolled our of my house super early and encountered some traffic due to a, get this, pickup truck that was towing a car.  Rubberneckers almost made me late to my race?  Seriously guys?  So once I got there, I literally jogged to the registration table, snatched up my race number, and jogged down the start.  I don’t suggest this to anyone.  Leave enough time for traffic, for rubberneckers, for whatever may go wrong.  That was stressful, and not a good way to start a race.

So the 5k began, and it was literally the hottest and most humid race I’ve ever participated in in my entire life.

Hot 5k

This is me after the race, looking like a sweaty shrimp. I had to run shirtless, and fantasized about all the things I could drink as I dragged through the course. The air was like swimming through soup, and the fact that I could see Lake Norman along the course, and that I couldn’t touch it, really wasn’t helping.  So we finished, and I stuck around for awards, and found out I won my age group, 25-29, for the 5k.  Cool!

I think for the minute, my thirst to get out of the house and do something competitive has been quenched 🙂