chapter four: crouching tiger hidden charlie horse

there are times where i say to myself, what on earth have you gotten yourself into? 30 days, 40 days, 100 days, i'd do it. continually convincing myself that i, in fact, am a runner is a bit of a stretch. but i'm not ruling anything out. i had to tell myself today, knock off the hippy sh*t, strap on a helmet and give 'er.

let me just explain something here, it's not just raining today, i'm pretty sure there's been a tap turned on over the city. everyone looks a little pissed off, and a lot like drown rats. someone might ask me, excuse me miss gems i can't quite visualize, i think i need another example. how can i put this so you can understand the magnitude of the situation? niagara falls is currently being dumped on vancouver. sounds like a good night to run. absolutely spectacular conditions, makes me just jump for joy.

so what's the point? well, if you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball. i'm sure the same theory applies in the maratraining department. rain or shine baby. the name of the game is 20 minute negative splits. sounds like something you'd see at the brass rail. unfortunately, there wasn't over priced beer and day old appetizers being served at tonight's class. we had to run as far as we can at 85% for 20 minutes, turn around, and make it back to the start in less time than we started out. so if you make it to the EJ fire-hydrant in less than 40, you're the man!

i started off being all professional, dodging the puddles, hood up, cuffs over my hands. i was convinced it was only drizzling and i surely would return in a somewhat dry state. was i ever wrong. i think i took in more water tonight than if i were a sham-wow. maybe i could sew a few sham-wow's together and make a jacket... nevermind. off topic, which is a growing trend of tonight's adventures. it's amazing when all the slow songs come on your i-pod one after another, how much your mind tends to wander. here's an example of a few things that came to mind whilst in our swimming lessons:

1. maybe if i try and jump up onto the curb and pretend to fall into the water in front of these condos the homeowner (who is obviously a hot firefighter) would take me in and make me soup.

2. we've made in to the burrard street bridge, i could keep running right home.

3. why do they call charlie horses that? my calves are jacked up and we haven't even turned around yet. maybe i'll cab back.

4. my playlist sucks right now.

5. i'm so glad that it's raining, 40 minutes of running is so easy.

6. jump in every single puddle on the way back because splashing is fun, and you're soaked anyway.

this is just a brief introduction to the mysterious ways my little brain works. welcome to the jungle brother. but i will tell ya, running somewhat alone on a dark trail gets the hamster running upstairs. i was nearly convinced that i'd get jumped on the way back. i've always felt a certain kind of pressure to join an asian gang anyway. maybe this is the year. thankfully my martial arts have significantly improved since crouching tiger, hidden dragon. i passed a few people on the route back that looked at me, sort of like i was a crazy person jumping in puddles. wait... anyway, i gave them a peace sign. they gave me dirty looks.

so i made it, and did my signature move, gazelled for the last 100m. this is sort of a trade mark now, i think. i'm going to name it. from now on, please refer to it as the gembolt. proud of myself for gembolting after 40 mins of the front crawl. yep, it happened. finished in 39:10. allllllllright. it's a good thing we finished when we did, because any more splashing around and i may have ended up on "girls gone wild".

mopped ourselves into EJ, and peeled the layers that once were clothing off. everything was so wet i could barely keep ahold of my clothes and shoes, and was leaving puppy prints all over the floor with my wet socks. big al came to my rescue and gave me some socks. you sir are one in a million, love ya longtime. just a side note, my calves are jacked and i feel like i got sweep kicked. i'm currently lying in bed, and wish i knew a masseuse. i also wish there were dial-a-massage. maybe i'll start that.

i'd also like to mention that sparky looks phenomenal in tights. just saying.

chapter three: shake and pop

i have always been suspicious, but from this morning on, i knew without a doubt that me and my AM routine are not on the same page. we aren't even in the same book. mathematical calculation would suggest i'd have more than enough time, but i always end up sprinting out the door. luckily, i've developed a serious crush on my concierge this year. he presses the button to let me out at just the right time. he says he's got nothing better to do, i say he needs to find himself a bird.

so i make it in one piece for my 7am EJ Strive, with just enough time to change the duds into workout gear: day three. after i took a good long look in the mirror at the two accessories attached to my upper torso, i decided i'd deal with them later. strapped in, day three commences. todays theme: shake and pop. it's a good thing i rarely operate at anything less than 4th gear, because today was a lot of bouncing. i think people see me as a real wind-up toy, they're just waiting for my batteries to die or for me to blow a gasket. i don't think i even have a gasket. there are two things i'm thankful for today, lots of energy and a damn good sports bra. amen.

it was nice being back to the good ol' fashioned Strive class, i've missed it so this week. partnered up with my home girl T Smith and powered through the first phase, swapping between cardio and kinesis. through the second round we lowered our weights and increased core stability. aka, suck in your gut-gut, stick out your butt-butt, and lift ya leg up, lift ya leg up. third round we were hinging, which is a ghetto booty gunnin' for anyone not kinetically inclined, savvy? "stick out your butt like you're dancing at fortune." ooooooh, like thaaaaat. why didn't you say so. wrap up with some plank. at that point i'd rather walk the plank, but pirates rules say: take what you can, give nothing back. so, i took everything and gave up nothing. fun bobby and er bear rocked the show.

so here's a clothing update: make sure you have yourself an exquisite supporting bra for classes where you jump more than you breathe. if not, you'll look like a complete basket case, and that's obnoxious so knock it off.

chapter two: open up, it's the cops

first off, big ups to sparky's sweet rose hat. that absolutely made running in the rain epic. seeing that hot bag of treats waiting at the finish line makes you run a whole lot faster. that, and picturing you're being chased by the cops. not that i'm speaking from experience or anything, but i've always wanted to kick down a door. cops would probably be involved at that point, so that was the vision in my head this soggy evening.

marathon training you say? what's a girl like me doing in a run like that? good question, it sounded fun. i'm also not very good at declining invitations, or thinking about things before i open my mouth, so marathon training it will be (half that is) and what will be, will be. day one at the track. bright lights, a bit of rain, and puddles the size of a Yugo. it was like a bad scene from baywatch. interval runs: 1600m, 800m, 400m time trials.

let's just put it this way, i haven't been on a track since high school. i was a short track runner, so the idea of completing not one, not two, not three, but four laps scared the banana sandwich right out of me. props to all the EJ RUN groupies, you rock and totally kicked my tush. for this, i applaud you. so this is how it works, we start with 1600m, balancing out our time per lap so we're running an even paced mile. my average lap time was 1:50, a glacial pace, but i'm kind of into snow.

i nervously attempted to release my wedgie while walking up to spark for our finishing mile times. (a futile effort, as it turned out, when wearing pants so damn tight you make travolta's in saturday night fever look like ultrawides.) much to my surprise it was actually a personal best of mine, just over 8 mins. hollaback youngin', woo woo!

take a minute to catch your breath, darth vader. then back to work, 800m. up the speed and keep it consistent. i lowered my lap time here, so i guess i was doing something right. i think it was on my second lap on this one when i heard a little nugget playing soccer in the middle of the track say to his other buddy "hey dude, f* you". man, kids are badness these days. he didn't look a day over grade 3. i admit, i probably have something to do with the next generations verbal catastrophes (sorry mom, but i learn the best words from you), but that caught even me off guard. i have to admit i nearly pissed my hotpants at that point. best lap all night, hands down. finished 4:something.

took another quick breather, did a little mid run lecture, then it was off to the races for a last lap. 400m, steady steady steady, then blast it. 1:36 was my time, significantly decreasing my lap time. fun times. i have to admit, i was sweating like shaq at the foul line before we got going with the maratraining, but i feel like tonight was a success.

i'm also going to give myself a little slap on the ass here, well because it's my blog and i feel like it. every single time i rounded the last turn to the finish, i upped the stakes. i was playing for pink slips people. maybe it's the sprinter in me, maybe it was the cops, but i booked it each and every time. actually got referred to as a gazelle. at one point i even heard "i was all chillin' and stuff, and boom that chick comes flying past me, i was like what the hell." pretty cool.

before this, 6 pairs of kicks was my definition of twelve steps.

chapter one: twisted sista

a statement stood out to me today: "this is crazy, and it's only day one." am i sick because my response was, "damn, we only have 29 days left?"

this made me wonder, is adrenaline the newest form of street drugs? a wise woman once said, "working out gives you endorphins. endorphins make you happy. happy people just don't go around killing their husbands." clearly, that's gotta be a good sign. i mean, she's an expert (obviously) you just can't argue with that. so day one it is, and i'm already in "i hope this lasts forever-mode".

i blasted into the challenge strong with a 'release plus' class, or the newly g-dubbed: pump it and pull it. group of eight; just enough to get the energy jacked up, but still enough one-on-one time to make sure you don't cheat on the bike. we opted for disco tracks on the airwaves, to keep us energized through the car-de-ohhh! big al demo'd a sweet remix of 'what's updog, downdog' that looked more like a ghetto booty shake dutty whine. it was wicked.

6 minutes of cardy, (3 tread, 3 bike... or as i like to refer to it as: my vehicle-like coffin) push it, push it, push it 80%. phase one tread was a walk in the park, or... a run on a tread?! whatever, it felt good. jumped over to the bike, high rpms = sore ass legs. just when i think my pins are about to take off on me, we get the 5 second coundown. peace out cardio...

6 minutes of releasing. dynamic, fluid, sexy. just what i needed after the cardy press. 4 stations targeting different types of muscle release. so good. i have a noticeable flaw (who knew) in my positioning. hyper-extension of the lower back, or in street words "the girl guns out her butt-butt." so my fitness goal has been handed to me on a silver platter, i will remain with a neutral spine, i will remain with a neutral spine.

feeling good, the muscles have been stretched, i'm in a good place in my head and "5 seconds". back to the cardy. damn, i just want to keep what's updogging. so we repeat, but press harder, 90% this time. 5 seconds. back to release. then finish up with a dynamic release routine, er-bear couldn't have finished it off better.

i'd order this combo again.

(minus one): the pre-chapter chapter

"tell us about yourself. what did you do before you got into sweating? how did you get into sweating? what are you doing now that you're into sweating?"

i'm a scorpio. i'm not in a relationship, and currently not looking for a way out. let me know if you know anybody who's looking for a girlfriend, i would appreciate that. somebody who doesn't speak a ton of english, preferably. you see, i found out that sweating was the only job you could do with a messy-bun, so that was pretty much my decision. that, and i'm female, i like chocolate... a lot. so i did it because, it was the only thing i could do. i'm pretty much really bad at waitressing, and saying no to chocolate.

i've gotten around, most sweat institutions in the city really. all of the fun ones anyway, like... endorphin junkies. that's pretty much the one that comes to mind. so when i was posed with the question "hey gems do you want to do a 30 day challenge" i flossed my teeth, batted my eyelashes and decided "damn, i'm fierce." that and, who can resist the opt-out of doing hair for a month? messy-buns, we're in.

this is my story, day by day, about the sweat dripping down my back. my poor eating habits and my rock hard abs. the inappropriate love for my personal brand of heroine... endorphin junkies. the outfits i refuse to repeat in thirty days. the messy-buns, and all the bobby-pins in between.

i will dispense these stories now... this is the junk in my trunk!