Because I don't want you to think I am TOO cool, let me be clear: I don't think about Milli Vanilli often. (At least not when I'm running.) Mainly, when I'm running, I think one thing.
Do. Not. Stop.
Okay, actually I think many other things as well (as demonstrated in previous entries). But most of the other things I think about are imperative to distracting me from the other thing I could think about - why I should stop. I've noticed the rest of my thoughts fall into four main categories.
1. Extremely difficult (junior high level) algebraic math calculations focusing mostly on the variables of time, speed, and distance run. The majority of this time is spent correcting original calculations and panicking when I forget or change a number in the equation that could affect my running. Specifically, by adding more time to my running. Within this category exists a sub-category called "Bargaining", which involves me making deals with myself. These deals are comprised of rewards that in Real Life are wholly unrewarding (i.e. "just make it to the bridge and you get to CHECK YOUR STOPWATCH") but in Running Life are equivalent to getting ice cream from the ice cream truck. In other words, it's kinda the BEST THING that happens all day ... until you eat your treat and realize you paid $4.00 for a popsicle with a gumball stuck on the top. (Or get to the bridge, check your stopwatch, and see you have four more minutes to run.)
2. Assumptions about what other people are thinking (about me). I actually have way too much to write about this subject to share it here, so stay tuned for future notes for more detail about this category. But as a teaser, know that just because you are convinced that the teenage girl who is laughing hysterically as you approach (from having just run up The Hill) is laughing hysterically AT YOU, she might be laughing because a duck is chewing on her shoelace.
3. Air drumming. I am forever grateful for the invention of the iPod armband simply because, if for no other reason, it allows me the freedom to fully commit to air drumming when I run. (Bonus Fun Fact: I think Rage Against the Machine actually uses cowbell. When's the last time you played air cowbell?)
4. Amazingly awesome hormone driven fantasies centered around egomaniacal grandiose achievements that have not occurred. An example of this is when David Letterman or Ellen Degeneres invite me on their shows to marvel at how I've cured cancer, stopped war, or rescued Brittany and/or Lindsey from the depths of their personal ruin. Other times I'm invited as a motivation speaker to the Navy Seals; my visit ends with observing the Seals jog on the beach, each yolked with a 400 lb log. They stumble to the end of their run and tearfully exclaim, (with MAN tears) "If Kelly can finish her run, SO CAN I." To which I reply, "Sailor, second place is first loser. Man up."
Tomorrow I run 14 minutes/walk two minute cycles. Hoo-Rah!
Do. Not. Stop.
Okay, actually I think many other things as well (as demonstrated in previous entries). But most of the other things I think about are imperative to distracting me from the other thing I could think about - why I should stop. I've noticed the rest of my thoughts fall into four main categories.
1. Extremely difficult (junior high level) algebraic math calculations focusing mostly on the variables of time, speed, and distance run. The majority of this time is spent correcting original calculations and panicking when I forget or change a number in the equation that could affect my running. Specifically, by adding more time to my running. Within this category exists a sub-category called "Bargaining", which involves me making deals with myself. These deals are comprised of rewards that in Real Life are wholly unrewarding (i.e. "just make it to the bridge and you get to CHECK YOUR STOPWATCH") but in Running Life are equivalent to getting ice cream from the ice cream truck. In other words, it's kinda the BEST THING that happens all day ... until you eat your treat and realize you paid $4.00 for a popsicle with a gumball stuck on the top. (Or get to the bridge, check your stopwatch, and see you have four more minutes to run.)
2. Assumptions about what other people are thinking (about me). I actually have way too much to write about this subject to share it here, so stay tuned for future notes for more detail about this category. But as a teaser, know that just because you are convinced that the teenage girl who is laughing hysterically as you approach (from having just run up The Hill) is laughing hysterically AT YOU, she might be laughing because a duck is chewing on her shoelace.
3. Air drumming. I am forever grateful for the invention of the iPod armband simply because, if for no other reason, it allows me the freedom to fully commit to air drumming when I run. (Bonus Fun Fact: I think Rage Against the Machine actually uses cowbell. When's the last time you played air cowbell?)
4. Amazingly awesome hormone driven fantasies centered around egomaniacal grandiose achievements that have not occurred. An example of this is when David Letterman or Ellen Degeneres invite me on their shows to marvel at how I've cured cancer, stopped war, or rescued Brittany and/or Lindsey from the depths of their personal ruin. Other times I'm invited as a motivation speaker to the Navy Seals; my visit ends with observing the Seals jog on the beach, each yolked with a 400 lb log. They stumble to the end of their run and tearfully exclaim, (with MAN tears) "If Kelly can finish her run, SO CAN I." To which I reply, "Sailor, second place is first loser. Man up."
Tomorrow I run 14 minutes/walk two minute cycles. Hoo-Rah!
Hoo rah!!!! Love this!!!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Stephanie! I "saw" on Katie's blog you had your own "Navy Seal" 4.5 miler ;-)
Delete