Last year, one of my clients gave me an iPod Nano as a “Christmas bonus”. Now, I’m not going to make this a post about how fabulous the Nano is, just because I”m pretty sure we can all agree that portable digital music kicks ass in just about any capacity, but I will say that the Nano and my assorted playlists have made my treadmill time much, much more pleasant this year, just by themselves.
Then Apple came out with that little Nike+ thing, which I originally thought was a really cool idea until someone told me that you HAD to buy a pair of Nike shoes in order for it to work. That, I thought, was stupid. Great piggyback marketing, but I was not going to buy a $125 pair of shoes just to go with my Nano. Forget it.
Turns out you don’t actually need the shoes. And it turns out a friend of mine could get me one for $20, thanks to staff discounts. So I figured, what the hell. I’d give it a try. It seemed kind of cool to me to be able to log my miles somewhere, and to have an actual record of what I’d done. I know, I could probably just enter it in a running log, the old-fashioned way, but I am shite at remembering to write things down regularly. I even have a running log, from when I started eight years ago. (A sample entry: “Six a.m., 20 minutes. Sore shins. BLOODY COLD.”)
The first time I used it, shoved under my shoelaces, it worked like a charm. I calibrated it, I entered my weight (and cried a little), and went for a nice, easy run. Then I came home, and Mike uploaded it and set up a profile for me on the site (because he’s good at remembering to do that stuff). Unfortunately, I hadn’t realized you were supposed to “End your workout”, and I listened to some music while I did some abs. So when we uploaded the run to the site, it showed my average pace at 22 minutes a kilometer or something. The graphic made it look like I’d fallen off the treadmill and couldn’t get up. Oops.
The next couple of times I used it, it was kind of hit-and-miss. I’ve figured out that the sensor has to be absolutely still for you to get an accurate reading (hence the little space inside the Nike shoe). One day, when I did intervals, it popped right out of my laces and flew across the room, and I had to stop my workout and put it back. Another time, it bounced around inside my shoe like a giant rock. The last couple of times it’s worked perfectly, but I also ordered a little pouch that someone makes to hold the sensor – it’s made of neoprene, so it fits good and tight, and you slot your laces through it. It should arrive sometime next week, and then maybe my pace will be more accurate. I’m curious.
The most motivational thing about this little gadget is the graph you see when you upload your data. It shows every change in speed, so if you stop (say, to get a drink of water), you can see that you were a lazy ass at minute 15, or that you caught your second wind at minute 24. I know it’s easy to see how far you’re going on the treadmill, and how many calories you’ve burned, but it’s nice to have someone add it all up. I like being able to say “I run three miles every time,” and then having a log to prove it. I’m also kind of excited about seeing my personal bests somewhere – not that they’re anything to write home about, because I’m pretty slow, but I’m getting better at it. I ran my second 5K last year, and clocked in at 34 minutes – this year I’d like to get that time down to 30 minutes or better. Like everything, running takes practice, and I’m starting to learn that a lot of what allows you to progress, or hinders your progress, goes on in your head first.
Here’s to progress.
You. RUN?
I am in awe. I have always hated running, even when I was in amazing shape and everything was in firm, fine shape. But now, if I tried running, things would be flying all over the place and possibly hit me in the eye or something.
Well, I’m not a good swimmer, I hate the bike with a passion, and I think the elliptical trainer is trying to scam me, calorie wise. So running is all that’s left, I guess!
I’m not very good at it, but it keeps me from sliding down the slipper slope to Fatsville. Plus, it brings my blood pressure donw. Both good things.
Hey, you can run a 5k? I would die.
I got this idea into my head a few years ago that I’m going to become a runner. Given that I’m built roughly like a giant pair of tits atop a terrifying ass with large reaches of belly, I’m not sure this is the greatest idea ever. So naturally, I’ve told myself I’ll start running after the baby’s born.
This is going to sound lame, but I seriously think that if you want to do it, you can do it. I don’t love it while I’m doing it, but about hafway through it starts to feel pretty good, and afterwards, I feel fantastic for hours.
I have a friend who ran a marathon to get back into shape after her baby was born. I couldn’t believe it. She anyone can do it if they want it badly enough. (I don’t, thanks.)
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