Double Dare, Triathablog, and a Bittersweet Goodbye

It all started at Starbucks. Elisa, Amanda, Jenn (she's like our fifth Beatle who stayed out of the spotlight) and I developed Triathablog over Americanos and Wild Sweet Orange Tea (brewed with a bag of Refresh, naturally).

We started this contest to support each other in our attempts to work exercise into everyday life. Physical Challenges came as an afterthought, added to shake up the competition and make things more interesting for our readers.

Unexpectedly, I learned more from the challenges than from the everyday discipline of running. That wasn't my only surprise. I thought 20 minutes of yoga every day would be simple, but it was mentally and physically exhausting. I thought meditating for 30 minutes would be impossible, but I found it was easy and refreshing. I thought running in costume would get easier after the first wave of embarrassment — it doesn't.

The challenges that forced me to break my routine taught me the most. Running at a different time and place wreaked havoc on my running schedule and ended up costing me a couple weeks of points. But, in the long run (HA! I had to use it sometime), I learned to how to break my routine without getting completely off track (AGAIN! I'm ridiculous).

Due to a couple weeks of seemingly constant rain and sickness, I took solace in a gym and in my own apartment. I still kind of hate exercise videos, but I can lift weights, do yoga, and even do a little cardio (jumping jacks, jump rope ... various jump-centric activities) all while watching Gossip Girl. (Or, at least during the commercial breaks — no exercise is worth missing a minute of Chuck and Blair.)

For me, Triathablog's end is bittersweet. The challenges taught me a lot, but, like any good learning experience, I didn't always enjoy them. Sometimes, I loved sharing my thoughts on running with the world. But I'm also looking forward to long runs alone, without having a metaphorical audience looking over my shoulder. (I picture you — our blog audience — like those Verizon Wireless Network people, always there when you turn around ... a quality that can be good and bad.)

Thanks so much to our readers. You've been patient through reports on crosswalks, and you've laughed with me through elf costumes and James Franco daydreams. And thanks to Elisa and Amanda for taking this journey with me. You have been worthy competitors and amazing partners. I've enjoyed our adventure, and I am thankful for your support and for your friendship.

Death of an iPod: A Blog in Two Acts

I've mentioned here before that it's hard for me to run without playing significant mind games (pretending to be invisible, conjuring James Franco, etc.). My iPod was a major player in my self deception — it was the soundtrack to whatever movie happened to be playing in my head. It was the feather to my Dumbo. The security blanket to my Linus.

Then I broke it.

Well, I think I broke it. I dropped it and then it worked fine, and I rejoiced. A couple days later, it started acting funny (also known as The Great Halloween Haunting). Finally, it stopped for good. Running without an iPod was scary for me, but I did it, and I'm glad I cleared that hurdle. I don't NEED it anymore. But I still kind of want it.

Happily, my fellow Triathabloggers have my back. As soon as Amanda heard my iPod was broken, she offered to lend me one she rarely uses. Oh joy! Not to be outdone, Elisa's letting me borrow her Nike Plus system that works with an iPod to help you track your runs. (She actually took her shoe off in the middle of Starbucks, pulled the tracker out of its sole, and threw it at me.)

So my friends have saved the music, as it were. Even more important, I have a couple Physical Therapist friends who helped me save my knee.

Allison Ashby confirmed my internet diagnosis of Runner's Knee and reminded me that a bag of frozen peas makes a good icepack (I used edamame, but she still gets credit). And Amanda Lane mentioned that taking ibuprofen straight for a couple days could kick the lingering pain out of my knee, which it totally did.

I guess the moral is, keep your Triathablog friends (Allison and Amanda Lane) close, and your Triathablog enemies (Elisa and Amanda) closer. That, and try not to drop your iPod.

The Games People Play

They say a lot of running is mental. For me, this is pretty true. I've had to play head games with myself ever since I started running, convincing myself to keep going even when I felt awkward. Here are a few of my mental tricks:

I AM INVISIBLE. This helps whenever I feel slow, or clumsy, or self-conscious about wearing shorts. After all, if no one can see me, what I look like doesn't matter. It has the added benefit of making me extra careful about traffic.

I'M HELPING PEOPLE! I talk to a lot of runners who get offended or upset when someone passes them on the trail. Not me! I just think about how awesome the person who passed must feel. I gave them a feeling of self-worth and confidence, and that's worth running slowly for!

I'M THE HOTTEST GIRL HERE, AND EVERYONE IS JEALOUS OF ME. This is how I feel in any room, so it's pretty easy to adapt to running. Oh, wait, not really. It's actually a tough idea to maintain, and requires musical backup, so I listen to Flo Rida (or any artist who prefers Apple Bottom Jeans to skinny jeans).

I AM A CHARACTER IN HARRY POTTER. I only use this delusion when I'm running through Mountain Brook early in the morning and the owls are swooping. I repeat to myself, "I'm not afraid of owls. Owls are friendly. Owls bring you mail."

JAMES FRANCO IS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS HILL. No explanation necessary.

Apparently, talking to yourself while running (silently, anyway) isn't that unusual. But more mature (read: "less crazy") runners refer to their inner dialogue as a mantra. One marathoner's mantra is, "Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional." Haruki Murakami writes of a particularly difficult race in which he repeated to himself, "I'm not a human. I'm a piece of machinery. I don't need to feel a thing. Just forge on ahead."

I tried something similar this morning. Thinking was exhausting, and, because it was raining, I couldn't use my iPod. I repeated "I feel good. I am healthy." over and over. It was nothing fancy, and I felt kind of silly at first, but it worked. Overall, I did feel good. I did feel healthy. It was the best run I had all week ... and I didn't even have to conjure up Hogwarts.