8.5 miles with the group

I've explored a little bit of my concerns with the running group. It's not, of course, the running group itself that concerns me. It's me and whether or not the running group is going to work with my particular individual psychology.

Today was more fun than the last time. I ran with a woman who was great to talk with. It was her first time, and I invited her to run alongside me. They do this two-by-two thing, which can be deadly depending on whom you're paired with. It encourages people to not take risks and meet new people (because of the potential deadliness). Or to welcome newcomers as well as they should.

We did 8.5 miles and didn't -- thank goodness -- go the typical route along the boardwalk again. We ran past amazing Santa Monica and Brentwood homes. I brought my own water bottle, which was good as we didn't have any water stations today.

This club doesn't work for people who need to stop a lot, for whatever reason.

I don't think I like being "paced," even though on another level I appreciate it. I like to know what's coming up and to have some control over the speed. The runs are less fun when I don't have that element of control.

Our pace, including the walk breaks, was 12:15, which meant that the nonwalking pace averaged about 11:30. Eighteen miles next week.


My running wish list

These are some things I probably should get:

1) A baseball-style running hat for sun protection. Because of my massive head, I'll probably need a man's hat, but those don't have a space for a ponytail. It's easier for me to find appropriate bras -- at least I know where to go. I don't know if anyone actually makes what I'm looking for in a hat.

2) A dorky fuel belt. They come with little bottles and a pouch.

I'm so resisting the idea.

Pop culture crisis

I didn't run today, just did my calisthenics, including my new pushup, which doesn't look nearly as obscene when a woman does it. Although my kids sure thinks it's funny.

Movies: Paul and I had free tickets to see a movie at a certain theater near us, which was showing a dozen movies, but when we looked at all the trailers, we realized that there was literally Not a Single One either of us really wanted to see. Which was unfortunate because other theaters have films we would've liked to have seen.

So we didn't go.

I don't understand all the "suspenseful" movies that just seem twisted and deranged.

Music: My 13-year-old pointed out that on his iPod he has only a single song by a female vocalist: "What's Up" by 4 Non Blondes. I can sort of see that, as a lot of lyrics song by women/girls are going to be pretty incomprehensible to a young teen male.

Taylor Swift is a prime example. I mean, she's great musically, but her lyrics make me cringe with her lack of understanding regarding the dance between genders. (Not that I'm any expert, of course. I'm just glad I don't have to play that game anymore.) But she definitely makes The Other seem that much more Other-y to my boy. Only her duet with T-Pain is something he can appreciate.

Confessions of a plodder

This story in the N.Y. Times has people talking about how slow runners (aka plodders) are ruining "the mystique of the marathon."

I'm definitely a plodder. Do I care? No.

Oh, sure, I'd like to run faster. Do I care than there are snooty people who think they're inherently better than me because they can run faster, maybe a lot faster? No.

Of course, they're better than me at running. Who isn't?

But, it'd be the same as me being snooty about people who can't write. Or spell. Or do math as easily as I can.

The difference, I think, is that people who can't spell don't go into spelling bees.

At the same time, spelling bees aren't community events the way runs are.

It's also true that even though I don't run fast, I run a lot faster than most people (or even myself for the vast majority of my life).

I think the backlash against the slow runners, though, is indeed more reflective of a negative, immature mind style that can't see far outside one's own experience and ability.

40 minutes: I got out there early today and ran for 40 minutes, without keeping track of mileage. I plodded most of the time, but did keep faster paces for periods of a few minutes.

Music: The iTunes free single of the week is pretty good in a pop-ish way: Orianthi's "According to You."

Hindu pushups!

Here's the link for a new exercise I learned tonight. The not-so-politically-correctly-named Hindu pushup.

It was me and another woman doing what really is my final exercise class today.

The teacher had us try those things at the end, partially because he wanted to see if we could do them. I was surprised that they're much easier for me than standard pushups.

The Fat Acceptance Movement

I have a lot of ambivalence about the Fat Acceptance Movement.

If you haven't heard of it, it's basically groups of people who are gunning for better treatment for People of Size.

Now, I don't think people should be mean to bigger people. And, frankly, where I live, I'm still a bigger woman. Heck, I wear a Size 8 and have a belly. Truly thin women are in 0s and 2s.

At the same time, I don't think that the health risks of obesity are exaggerations. If anything, I don't think they're played up enough.

Being heavy causes chronic stress on the body, and it dramatically increases one's risk of cancer, diabetes and heart disease. (Paul didn't know about the cancer risk until I told him just a few days ago.)

But being heavy doesn't make people any less human or deserving of respect.

What does strike me about many people in the Fat Acceptance movement, however, is that they're young and undoubtedly lovely in their youth. They haven't felt the effects of obesity. Or they just don't recognize how much better they could feel.

I do know how irritating it is when a person's size becomes the most dominant thing about them, at least to outsiders. When I was heavy and my kids would be embarrassed when another child called me fat, I would tell them this. "Yes, I am fat, but that's really not the worst thing in the world." It's not the best either, of course, but it's not the worst.

Sometimes I think too much fat acceptance, though, is what is causing the growing obesity rates in the U.S. Or at least the reality that it is indeed becoming the new normal.

Park workouts

One of the homeschooling dads I know sets up little classes for kids and their parents once at week at the park. Sometimes, I'm the only other adult participating. But what the heck. We ran around and played on park equipment today.

Last week, I had a private park workout with the other trainer. Because no one else showed up to class. It was sort of nice because he customized some things for me and made suggestions for things I could do on my own.

He told me that he has been surprised at some of the things I can't do, at my lack of core strength. He said part of it is that he forgets I was pretty heavy for about 10 years, that I look a lot fitter than I am. (Which is a bit scary in itself.)

So anyway, he taught me a ton of new ab stuff. And, since this guy is All About Form, I think it was pretty helpful.

The problem is, of course, that I can remember all sorts of trivia without even trying -- but to remember specific ways I'm supposed to position my body is a huge challenge. It's odd how my memory doesn't translate when it comes to physicality. I'm used to it, but it has always irritated coaches and other athletic types. It's just not my mind style. I think this guy did a decent job with breaking things down. My challenge now is to remember exactly what I'm supposed to do.

Fun running versus have-to running

I was supposed to run 16 miles on Saturday.

"Supposed to" are the key words here.

First, I let my girls and husband (!) talk me into going to a homeschool dance that I didn't really want to go to. Oh, I wanted to theoretically, the day before, but after a crazy Friday, I really would've preferred to stay home.

Then, on Saturday morning, I let the husband twist my arm into staying home instead of heading to Santa Monica at 5:30 a.m. I was dreading the run more than a little because I've been really bad about getting out there.

That has actually been one of my concerns, knowing myself, with formalizing my running -- joining a running club and signing up for a marathon.

I tend to resist "shoulds." Oh, I'm a good girl in many, many ways. So I guess I rebel in little ones. Like, the worst thing in the world for me to do is to join a book club. I read quickly, but as soon as I have a deadline for finishing a book, there are about a million other things I'd rather do (or books I rather read) instead.

Running has been a little bit the same way. And, unless I want to have a disaster or skip out on the marathon, I need to take it more seriously. Or, more accurately, I need to have more fun again. I dread getting out to the running club. I will do it because I need the help on the long runs, but I need to make sure I have fun runs during the week. We're talking my definition of fun, of course, which means running alone and unmeasured.

So, today, I went out and just did a little over an hour. I didn't measure my mileage. I saw my buddy the security guard, and Paul came out to help as well.

I also need to add some new music, as I've been running to almost exactly the same thing for a while now. I'm thinking of adding Eminem, Gossip, Franz Ferdinand and early Rod Stewart.