Ah, the small pleasures of simple living. I alluded to them last post, and one has led me off on a tangent in my life I think would only be possible in the Yukon. Or in my Yukon life.
I’ll take this and back up a bit.
When I was “training’ for my 10k race last year (meaning, doing what all runners do: run with some regularity while sloooowwwly upping my distance), I remember getting so down on myself about ‘only’ running 3 or 4 times a week. That sounds lame, I know, but hear me out. It just seems like it was something to try really hard to fit into crazy journalism school schedules and interviews, work events and interviews, family visits, and the obligatory ‘we’re almost done!’ weekend drinkfests. Its a rough life, and busy.
I knew I could be doing more to reach personal limits and test myself. Granted, huffing and puffing and sweating and cursing were indicators that I was working hard on my runs, but I always knew I wasn’t really pushing it. I did my 10k and honestly, I didn’t feel like dying or collapsing afterwards. I just remember thinking how I had totally had it in me to get a better time. Competitiveness with myself? Maybe, and maybe my upbringing in a competitive, consumeristic, pressure-filled world is to blame. Maybe not?
So, anyway, I half-assedly brought running with me to the Yukon. First, I complained that the elevation change was too dramatic to keep at my regular running schedule and so I stopped. Or I’d run on the gym treadmill once a week and be satisfied I’d done something. It was a poor excuse for a fitness regimen. Granted, I’m not pudgy or jelly-ish (Destiny’s Child!), and it’s not like pounds were starting to pack on. But that’s not REALLY why I run, either. Its good for my heart, certainly better than sitting around not exercising my heart, and I wanna be a healthy old fart one day.
I went home for the wedding though, and had the whole, dramatic, I-don’t-fit-into-the-dress fiasco. That was the first time ever I didn’t fit in something. I used to be the stick-skinny girl people started bulimia rumours about, for crying out loud. I don’t GET bigger!! Well yes, I do. And I did. So I got back to running in Ottawa, and I fit in my dress and all was well and good.
I ran on my honeymoon, even leaving new husband alone at the hotel to run the Kelwona waterfront. I was so dedicated. We returned to the ‘Horse and I was still all ‘Ya, I’m totally for sure gonna keep up my running’ and thinking it wouldn’t even be hard because I’d already been running the last month regularly.
But then it got cold. Like, gross cold. So I didn’t run outside. And getting to the treadmill took some effort,.Like, the effort required to decide to go, pack stuff, run and come home. Exasperating! I’m not sure when, but ‘too cold’ and ‘too treadmill-y’ became solid reasons to return to the butt indentation on my couch and stay put.
For Christmas, my Dad got me a subscription to a women’s health magazine, which was really what I needed. In glossy, pretty pages, the message to me became clear: You are lame. Get up and do something. Wanker.
So I signed up for their online save your body or die program (although their name is more suitable and less scary) and began by logging what I eat to see how many calories I’m taking in a day. This was relative to little to no physical activity at this point. Baby steps.
That part turned out OK. I was eating enough. I don’t want to lose weight or anything so that can stay as is and I can stop logging calories for everything I eat, which is relieving. I don’t know how many calories are in Lindor chocolates but I don’t want to either.
This week, I got a gym membership at the Canada Games Centre, this awesome facility with an indoor track (real running! no cold!), a pool (I could so get back into that! And do aquafit hahaha!) so there’s step one. I replaced my broke-down old iPod with this tiny one the size of an eye shadow compartment so I had something to listen to on my runs besides the sound of my laboured breathing.
And my magazine web site thingy tells me what to do. When to run, how long, how hard. I can add in all the other fitness-y things I’m making myself do, like hikes with the puppy, yoga and well, that’s it for now. But soon swimming! I promise!
So the long and short of it is (if you were smart and skipped down to the bottom to avoid reading all of that) is that the simple pleasure of my magazine subscription has re-inspired me to get into running and being active, with a little bit of accountability involved.
I even signed up for pole dancing for fitness at the games centre. I wonder what I am supposed to wear to that? Anything? Anyway, I figure I’ll keep things interesting by switching things up, logging what I do, and planning in advance when I’m going to do it. Yukon time gives me a whole lot more to my day, even with the full-time j-o-b, so I know I can do it.
This is totally the year of seeing how far I can go. There are some extreme races here in the summer, so I’m excited for the chance to push myself and see where these legs can take me.

Labels: Journalism School, running, Yukon