Twelve miles was on the menu and I was hungry. I was mentally ready to run at halftime of the Giants game as I was sick of watching grown men play like weak children but, per normal, my stomach had a different plan. I left at 3 o’clock in my transitions and my Merrell Trail Gloves as I couldn’t find my proper sunglasses and had yet to figure out the metatarsal pads in my Vivobarefoot Neos.
I almost bought new running shorts on Saturday but found a better deal online so I waited. I expected to buy new shorts so I didn’t wash the one pair of actual running shorts I own – with the built in chonies. I didn’t want to put on dirty underwear and run in basketball shorts or dirty another pair just for a run so I figured I’d go ahead and dig through the hamper. Didn’t take long as my hamper is full of clean clothes and all my dirty ones are in a pile.
I didn’t think anything of the grossness. Even when I had to stop at mile 6.5 to hit the restroom, my dirty shorts were barely on my mind at all. Then, as I was restarting my runkeeper I saw an old friend from high school running. I waved, she stopped. I intended to maybe pace her for a mile before splitting off and melting back into my reggae playlist (I listen to reggae to keep my running relaxed, and the tempo makes it easy to keep my cadence up), but she was running with another friend of ours from high school so we waited.
I haven’t seen either of these women in at least a couple years, so it took a while to catch up. Standing in the shade in Santa Monica. All I could think of was how terrible I smelled. The only break I got from my own stink was when the breeze kicked up, and surely hit their nostrils. My best hope for reprieve was our proximity to a bathroom and the astoundingly large and pungent homeless population that likes to camp on the Ocean Front park where we were.
I’m sure I seemed a bit rude but I was only trying to minimize the exposure, and it’s not something you can explain politely. “Nice to see you. I’m sorry I cannot talk long as I haven’t showered in two days or washed these shorts in four weeks and fifty miles, but let’s meet up after a shower,” wouldn’t cut it. And then their roommate got there. And then their friend got there. I was surrounded by noses. I had to cut it short. I apologized for interrupting their workout and assured them we’d run into each other again, and let them take off first, as we were going the same direction and a sequel to the stand around stink nightmare would be the stench trail I’d leave to those unfortunate souls following me.
The rest of the run was interesting. I’m getting better at nutrition. I am allowing myself bread/fruit for energy during long runs, so I could have a clif bar on a non-cheat day and feel okay about it. I tried the blueberry almond clif bar this week and discovered that taste played a huge part in nutrition. Half of being full and fueled is thinking you’re full and fueled and have energy, and if you’re suffering through your nutrition, you won’t accept it as nutrition; just as another chore. Granted that is an insanely arbitrary psychological judgment but it’s how I feel, which has to count for something, even if it’s completely wrong.
On the flip side, I had my first stinger waffle at mile 8 and it gave me freaky energy. Even though I felt sore and spent, my legs just kept going. I was almost possessed and had to actively slow down, which only lasted a half mile or so before my testosterone wondered how fast I could get home. My last mile was two minutes and thirty seconds faster than my slowest mile. I averaged a full minute per mile faster on the way home than on the way out. I doubt it’s all the waffle, but it definitely played a huge part, so I’ll be bringing them along for a lot of my future runs, which makes me quite excited for slightly no other reason than food nerdiness.
Speaking of food and nerdiness, it’s data time. I weighed in on Saturday morning and was quite happy with the results.
Weight: 209.2 lbs.
Body Fat: 22.7% (47.49 lbs.)
Total weight lost: 8.6lbs (5.22 lbs.)
I feel like this is not bad progress considering I have only put in one honest full out week on the slow-carb diet (cheated both Tuesdays for holiday parties). This week will be the last slow carb week of the year as I’m going to Michigan and all diets are off in the snow. It’s a rule. Starting now. Because I just made that rule up.
Speaking of Michigan, I’ll be visiting from Christmas Eve to New Year’s Eve. I bought tights and cold weather super-insulated socks so I can manage to fulfill the 25 miles my training schedule calls for. In the snow. I’m terrified and I can’t wait. Obviously going to write about it as soon as I get back.
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