This post will have many pictures. Just kidding.
So last week was not a good week. I know, I know: every week is what you make of it. But I was working A LOT, couldn't run AT ALL and I felt my PhD project was getting the shaft in many ways for no apparent reason. And this created even more work.
I started eyeing something in the window of the local sex shop. I am allowed to admit things like this, right? Olga might say it's because I'm almost European.
But I was terrified of someone seeing me walk in. It is one thing to buy slinky lingerie at Victoria's Secret or any other acceptable underwear retailer. It's another to walk into a genuine sex store. What if one of my patients saw me? Or my colleagues? What would they think? What would you think if you saw your doctor walking into one of these stores?
Anyway, on Friday they had 50% off everything in the store. So I made sure the street was COMPLETELY clear of people and darted in. I successfully found what I wanted. And all was going well and I was about to make a purchase when I noticed a large selection of batteries on the wall. "Huh" I thought. "This is just like a regular old corner store. Why on earth would they have such a variety of batteries?" Out of the corner of my left eye, I saw a large, purple, glowing... "ah yes, that is why they have batteries." I am still an American at heart.
I rushed out of the store and down the street, hoping the bag would not give me away.
So, yeah, I just didn't really feel like running after the Brocken Marathon. The entire left side of my body hurt when I ran. Even my heal and shoulder. I started to think running injuries were contagious over the internet from Steve Q and May-Britt, respectively.
But I spent my time pulse training with the other members of my athletic club, Scala. (I swam, too, but that's not important right now.) When you spin, you have a pulse monitor on. And everyone's pulse is displayed on a screen in front of the class. When you do the step/stomach, butt, thighs class, it's also about getting your pulse up. I've realized I get a really good workout from these sessions -mostly because it's competitive. Though I have trouble understanding why it looks like I'm working so much harder than the people next to me, and I certainly am sweating even more than the men, and yet my stupid pulse never gets up to 85% of max, unlike everyone else's. I think I missed something in my physiology class in medical school - or I am actually 20 years older than I thought. Any ideas?
I was fooled by my own blog and thought the Copenhagen 6 hour race was this coming weekend. So I was in the middle of a mega-taper when I realized yesterday, the race is actually October 30th (I know May-Britt, you warned me - I should correct in on my blog!).
Anyway, I hadn't run more than a total of 6 miles in 9 days. SR and I went out for a little speed work today. I was worried about my heal. We ran my favorite semi-hilly trail though farm fields, which I train on often. I never run super fast times there, because of the nature of the trail, so I hesitate to write my times on my blog. But today was different.
We did a 5k x 2.
SR gave me a 3 minute head start. Since his 5k PR is 15:57 and mine is (in truth) 19:46 (don't be confused by the questionable relay time I have listed), I knew he would pass me no problem.
Anyway, he didn't pass me! At least not during the first 5k. I ran the first 5k in 22:10 and the second in 23:19. I know it doesn't sound that great, but it is a training record for me on such a hard trail. If I were simply interested in being fast, I would have been pleased. But there was this other good part about it - IT FELT AWESOME.
Now, if you just read the title and scrolled to the last sentence, you probably think I wrote about something slightly different.
8 comments:
Something's contagious, at any rate. My latest post could have the same title as yours.
word verification: underoos!
When I still lived in Russia, I was shy about walking into a sex shop (Soviets don;t have sex! that's the idea, and kids happen by dropping saliva on one's shoe, I swear, our math teacher said that in 1985). US didn't help me much either being prude country and all. Then I visited Holland and everything became normal, as I always wnated it (I know, I am a perv, I see penises on every corner, just ask my friends).
Anyhow, pulse training not hiking your HR high enough is weird. When I did 3M hill repeats in the Gorge, I was going at 180, what is my max. I wonder why you can't get high and your low is not low enough. But at the same time, can we just throw those things to garbage and run by breath? Effort? Until the legs fall out? Nah, SR said you have nice - what was the word he used? Yeah, I agree, whatever that word meant.
So, from someone who just used 2 weeks of full-blown "no-run" taper and survived 10 hors, I think you'll be fine. Now put a smile on your face and start your race next weekend SLOWLY!!! Tell the guy running next to you about that trip to the sex shop and the toys you discovered, and then after 2.5 hrs speed up past him. I am counting on you making an impression!
I can assure you that i still have my shoulder injury, so it can´t be mine that you´re having ;-)
A good thing that you didn´t go to Albertslund on Saturday. See you next week :-)
Ha! Love the title and last line connection :) I think you'll find your body may have appreciated the break from running this week - even if your head didn't...
Your patients and coworkers are European, right? They probably would not care.
And yes, the title was a bit misleading, but we here in America would not think to make a connection.
@Olga, I grew up under Soviet edu system (Poland). They never told us about the shoe and saliva. Somebody messed my sex education.
It is almost official, I am European. When you mentioned a large selection of batteries I immediately knew what they were for eventhough I have never been to sex shop although I have basically lived on "Moulin Rouge street" in Paris (plus I do not like root beer like a good European).
I have never been more disappointed in my life by a post titled "Sex shop ..." that also included the phrase "getting the shaft" (I gave thought to phrasing that last part "'getting the shaft' in the body" but I figgered that might be beyond the pale) than I was by this one.
BAIT AND SWITCH!1!
And just when I thought this post couldn't possibly get less sexy and more disappointing, you go and mention SteveQ.
Way to stumble upon the cure for the common boner, sister.
Why not just call your next post "My First Menage" and then sprinkle saltpeter on it?
Hahahahahha! Kidding, sister! And if I saw MY doctor at a sex shop buying a dildo? I would DEFINITELY cancel my prostate exam because I wouldn't want her getting any ideas.
What would you think if you saw your doctor walking into one of these stores?
I would think "You go, girl" unless of course I met up with her at the battery wall, then I would give her a knuckle bump and say "FYI, Duracell lasts longer."
You did not really think you could write a post with 'Sex Shop' in the title without attracting SteveQ's blogosphere riff raff, did you?
My apologies to the real runners on here that are actually here to comment the running part of the post.
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