But now I'm trying. I am on Twitter -- has little to do with what I'm sharing here. I am trying to keep that one all about running and trying to run a time that will qualify me to run the Boston Marathon (3:45). It would be a big deal to me. So that is primarily a place to put my running stuff so I don't bore everyone to death on facebook with it. I will probably have some other interjections here and there too, so it's worth a visit or a follow. Make me popular and shit.
So since I last posted, I have:
Gone to Japan.
Going to Asia -- something I've never done, but I'm not sure which month that falls in. May? June? Both. May I raced a half-marathon. And I also went to Japan. Which covered both May & June. This isn't quite working out to the one a month I'd thought, but what the hell, life gets in the way.
I guess I'm up to ... 3 things now?
Drums
Race
Japan
There might be something else coming down the pipeline too, but we'll see. Next up?
I'm going to join the crew team.
Well, kind of. I'm 35, and not in college. I am taking a novice rowing class with Station L Rowing Club.
(We did have a crew team back in college, but I never joined it. In college I picked my classes and activities based on when they started and nothing was before 10 a.m. I probably missed out on a lot, and now I get up at 5:30ish many days to run so what's the point, really. Then again I'm not preparing to go out at 11 p.m. anymore. I'm old. There needs to be a balance somehow. I'm not there yet. At least I'm not throwing myself at boys anymore. Oh, wait, nevermind.)
The last time I rowed anything was on the LifeFitness machine at the Bally's when I was 15 or so. It was like a videogame; there was this animated little dude on the screen, and you were under it, and as you pulled the...what's it called, lever?...back and forth as you "rowed" (in quotes because I am sure this is nothing like actual rowing) you heard a swishing, mechanical roboty noise and it showed you if you were ahead or behind the dude on the screen. It beat the shit out of the exercise bike.
(Yes, I cut gym class through 9th grade but had my dad sneak me into the health club on Sundays. I'm so insane.)
Anyway, I enjoyed the Lifecycle cartoon rowing machine. And although I did not partake of the crew team in college, as I got older and found that I naturally enjoyed using the rowing pull machine at the gym, and many mornings running down the Springwater corridor, noticed the rowers out there pulling through the Willamette, thought it looked, well, kind of fun.
I'm not running as much now, due to tweaking my hamstring and possibly aggravating a piriformis/sciatica/who-knows-what-the-hell-issue-this-is-other-than-it-sucks, and the marathon I want to run isn't till early December, so late June through late July will be a great time to try rowing, I think.
And from when I looked on the site to when the next class starts, I had very little time to think through it. I heard there was room in the class if I got my stuff in right away, and so I wrote out the check for $150 (hey, it's 10 weeks and only slightly more than a new pair of running shoes, which also last about 10-12 weeks for me), and made plans to take the swim test.
Ah yes. The swim test. I had to swim for 10 min straight (any stroke), and then tread water/float for 10 mins. It sounds easy, but when I was in the pool on Friday (the day before the test, just trying to work out) I realized it was harder than I thought.
I'm way out of swimming shape--granted, I never was in it, I'm not a strong swimmer though it is more in my genes than running is (my grandmother was an olympic-caliber swimmer and taught water fitness classes well into her 90s), and I flail around a lot. I wouldn't call it the dog paddle, but I am sure there are some retriever types who could swim a straighter line in the lap pool than yours truly.
So anyway, I took the swim test yesterday. All my worrying was for naught, as I swam like, if not a champ, than someone who can at least stay afloat and not scream "Fucking help my ass out of the drink!" Lifeguard even praised my smooth strokes. Upon getting in the car on the way home, I texted J who texted back that he liked my firm grip. Heh.
Oh I took it at Mt. Scott community center's pool, which I recommend--even though the *other* pool was filled with screaming children, the lap pool was very quiet--it did help that I got there right when they opened. I'd been there once before for a water aerobics class I took with a friend while we both had stress fractures and couldn't run.
(Because I am petty, I would like to point out that although this friend kicks my ass running on land and the only way I could beat her in a race is if she tried to run it on misaligned crutches, I kicked her ass running in the water. Hmm, maybe it is genetic...)
Anyway, where was I? Oh so the rowing.
First class (they are group classes, this isn't like, private rowing instruction or anything) starts tomorrow at 5:30 a.m. Classes are Mondays and Wednesdays from 5:30 - 7:15 a.m. Yeah, that's damn early, but I'm barely a 10-minute drive away so I will have plenty of time to get home and shower and get to work--okay, on the later side, but who gives a shit. It's good, it'll be good cross-training, and it will possibly preclude me from running too much at a point where I needn't be pushing myself too hard because of weird hammie thing that requires much babying, and yet I will hopefully not get fat.
And I have long, long monkey arms. And a long torso. And I like my back. All will, I think, be good for rowing.
I don't know the first thing about rowing. In overnight camp when I was around 10 or 11 they had rowboats. And canoes. I don't remember much about them or the difference between them, but I do remember that sort of wobbly feeling and the grossness of the browny green lake water which seeped in no matter what you did. And the slimy white dock.
I'm not really psyching myself up here, am I?
I went to Wiki on Crew just now, and maybe it's poorly written, but I don't really understand it still.
Running is so easy: You just go. Of course, it's not that easy if you make it. There are shoe questions and gear issues and no cotton and dri-fit and pace and stride and form and training and ramping mileage and tapering and it can be as complicated as you want it to be...but what it comes down to is moving yourself forward.
But then I read something like this, and my head tangles up over the words:
Have the boat parallel to the dock, unattached. Make sure the oars are in and
are pushed as far as they can go until the catch. Move the oars forward and hold
them with one hand. Slide the seat back, and put one foot in. Make sure to stand
on the deck of the boat and do not step in the bottom, or rounded, part of the
boat. Then squat down and sit down on the sliding chair. You should then be able
to put the foot in the shoe, and then move the other foot in. Hold the oars in
one hand and push off of the dock. Remember to close the 'oar lock' on the
rigger to stop the oar from popping out.
Uh, huh huh Beavis, what? I'm going to drop my oars and be up shit's creek without a paddle.
The shoe? The oar lock? Huh? I'm going to drown. Or at least look like an asshole.
I hope the people explain things in a way that lil ole dumb me can get. And that they are nice.
I never enjoyed sports (especially team sports) that much growing up. But I was also never really encouraged to do them. I think if I had demonstrated a want or an aptitude, maybe, but it is something that never came up much on the radar. I was more encouraged to do something like tennis (which I sucked at) because it would somehow help me more in later life. And ... uh no. I think the last time I picked up a racket, it was before I'd learned to use tampons.
Rowing seems like a team sport. You all must move together to make the boat move forward (uh, at least I assume). I am imagining several people in a donkey costume or something.
I'll try to post after my first class tomorrow.
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