Since the triathlon is less than two months away and I'm, as I said, petrified of the running portion, I took my first training "run" today. I use the word "run" loosely, since I mostly just shuffled for 60 seconds at a time, before spending 90 seconds walking. I'm following this plan by Cool Runnings and also listening to a training podcast I found on iTunes. The music is a little weird, but it tells me when to run, when to stop, when to walk. I am, if anything, excellent at following directions, so this works nicely for me.
Of course, roughly 3 minutes in I was already learning things.
1) The Macy Mutt makes a HORRIBLE running partner.
Mainly because about eight seconds into each running interval, she either needed to pee, poop, sniff, or do something distracting that meant she couldn't keep up with me. And she became progressively more uncooperative at each interval, refusing to walk down some blocks unless they were on the direct path to the condo. At the last interval, she gave up completely and planted her yellow butt outside the front door while I ran back and forth as far as her extend-a-leash would let me for the rest of the 60 seconds.
2) Boobs are not the place to store an iPod.
After I got dressed to go out, and I realized I didn't have any pockets. And I had a set of keys and iPod to carry. I clipped the keys to Macy's leash and stashed the iPod in the only place I could think of where it wouldn't get loose and crash to the ground. Yup, I stuck that baby right in the cleavage. (BTW, having storage space in the boobs about the only good part of being painfully well-endowed.) Unfortunately, about 25 minutes in I discovered that boob sweat and circuitry don't mix well. And I'm currently praying for it to start working again soon and welcome suggestions on how to fix it.
3) Granny panties are where it's at.
I'm a low-cut briefs kind of girl and have banished every pair of granny panties from my dresser. Although, let's just say, low-cut briefs don't appreciate the jiggling that comes with running and, in a plea for freedom, decided to just roll down in the midst of the run. Lovely feeling, really. Also fun: trying to readjust your undies on the street without looking like a pervert or like you're soliciting.
4) Running for 60 seconds isn't hard.
Running for 3.2 miles probably will be. Gah, what was I thinking?
By the way, I promise not to decide this blog to postings only about this stupid adventure. My friend once told me she'd de-friended people on Facebook for only "posting about how many goddamn miles they run." Will. Not. Be. That. Girl.
That is all.