Matter – Akon
Land – Patti Smith
Sweet Dreams – Eurythmics (I like the remix.)
Everyone’s the Same – Alice Anna (My sister-in-law Lindsey’s husband, Scott Smith, played guitar in this Baltimore band.)
Happy – Pharrell Williams
Lovers’ Eyes – Mumford and Sons
Day 25, April 23, 2014
“I am the luckiest.”
—Ben Folds, “The Luckiest”
Last week the New York Times ran a story about gyms using personal fitness devices to track clients’ activity. Basically, clients buy some sort of wearable activity tracker that allows their trainer to monitor their every move. So, for example, if I told Adorable that this morning I ran 2 miles at 4.2 MPH, Adorable could either say he already knew that or that it was more like 1.5 miles, because he’s got my activity data on his phone.
When I asked Adorable about this, he didn’t seem all that engaged one way or the other.
I think that’s because he knew he probably wouldn’t need an electronic device to monitor his clients’ data. I push myself simply by knowing he’s in the building when I’m running on the treadmill. I’m sure I’d be walking up and down nine flights of stairs to get to and from my office if I knew he was carrying my physical activity data in his pocket.
I want to take back the comment I made earlier about motivation. Adorable had told me that many clients (not only his) rely on their trainers to motivate them (think drill sergeant). I had considered that idea but concluded I am the only person who can motivate me.
Not.
Obviously, I am motivated to get results, but I do not (yet) have the ability to push myself to get there. I’ve completely crossed over and bought in to the whole trainer vibe. I need this. I need to be pushed. Someone with skill needs to tell me how high and how long and how far. It’s not in my nature to go much beyond what my brain signals is safe.
And I don’t get that endorphin rush unless I push myself harder than I thought possible. It’s the sprinting, going harder and longer at whatever, that gives me the happy pill.
I need this.
***
A few weeks ago, Adorable had me do repetitions on the horrible back extension machine, and then immediately “flex” my stomach on the machine next to it without a break. He calls that a “super set,” and I’ve tried to duplicate the super set concept when I go from the treadmill (without a cool down) to the arm bike to holding a plank in the mornings before work. I benefit from taking breaks in between sets or from a cool down after running, but I get the point of the super set. It’s another way to get that unexpected fast rush.
Flex my stomach? If you can visualize that, let me know.
We got on the subject of the super set tonight because we were talking about endurance and how to boost it. For my morning workouts, Adorable suggested I try ramping up my speed on the treadmill for 30 seconds, and then taking it back down, and to do this throughout my three miles.
***
The millennial on the treadmill next to me was furiously texting while running a nine-minute mile. I was worried she might step over the edge, but she was completely in control.
Later that evening in my kitchen, I was having difficulty texting Mia, who was on a quiet bus from Boston back to New York, while eating a piece of matzah.
***
Yesterday morning I had to take my car in for service because it had two flat tires. Both tires were punctured with nails, so I assumed I must have driven into a construction zone. Later, in the shower, I winced when I put my foot down at a certain angle and thought maybe I had bruised something. I took a look and saw I had a splinter deep in the sole of my right foot.
As a girl from the beaches of Long Island who has had a lot of experience with splinters, I typically leave them and let them rise to the surface on their own. But this morning I thought I’d try to get it out so I wouldn’t have any problems running. I took out my tweezer kit (everyone has one, right?) and used the sharpest tool to pry out the small piece of wood. After some time, I pulled it out in one piece and took a look at it. It was sharp, like a nail.
Is it just me, or is someone using a voodoo doll to cast a spell on me?
Before-work Cardio
(3 miles total/ 2 miles at 4.2 MPH / 5 minutes on the arm bike maintaining 70 RPM / arm stretches)
Mellow this morning as I was fairly sleep-deprived.
What a Piece of Work Is Man – From the soundtrack of the Broadway musical Hair
After Party – Keith Milgaten and Keith Stanfield
Hey Baby – Pitbull
When a Man Loves a Woman – Aaron Neville
Count on Me – Bruno Mars
Paperweight – Joshua Radin and Schuyler Fisk
Waiting on the World to Change – John Mayer
Mad World – from Donnie Darko
Clocks – Coldplay
Tiny Dancer – Ben Folds cover (Such an amazing pianist.)
The Luckiest – Ben Folds
Day 29, April 27, 2014
“Then I realized I was swimming.”
—Florence + the Machine, “Swimming”
You have to be smart about your addictions.
I warmed up for 30 minutes on the treadmill, including a 1-mile run, early on Friday before my morning training session and followed Adorable’s suggestion to include a minute of sprinting sprinkled in two or three times during my run.
During training, I had a lot of discomfort in my calves and my left shin, and by the end of the hour, Adorable suggested I take the weekend off from running, or even walking, on the treadmill.
“Okay.”
But okay was not what I was thinking. I doubted I could get through the next two days without this.
I told Adorable I’d swim.
“Nice.”
Nearly everyone I knew growing up on Long Island was a swimmer. Even as adults, my father, Len, and my sisters Sherry, Phyllis, and Ilene, swim regularly, and I swam in the Johns Hopkins University pool when I was in graduate school. Once I started dying my hair, though, getting my head soaked in a tank of chlorine lost its appeal for me. I hadn’t
