Thanks to everyone who posted what you did for your 5k last week! I am still excited about your stories–it sounded like there was something positive for everyone who gave it a shot.
One of the most valuable lessons I took from art school is doing timed drawings. This drawing is the first of what will be many 1 and 2 hour drawings. This one was fairly easy, since it is a pretty monolithic object, so I didn’t have to exercise much thought or effort with it today, although the colored pencils will take some time to get used to. Hopefully, I’ll get better at building up color with them.
Well, I didn’t quite make my 1 week deadline on this drawing. I gave myself a hand full of challenges with it, and they didn’t take long to kick in. This will be my first of colored pencil drawings, and since the subject matter is a self-portrait in swim gear with no plan for anything but my head, it may get out of hand pretty quickly. It’s turning around, however, so if I stick it out, the worst it will be is a completed drawing. Right?
March 1st will always stand out to me now as my first bike wreck as a grown-up. I started riding a bike about five years ago, so not a bad track record, hu? I always thought that getting a good fall out of my way would free me up mentally about getting hurt. On the contrary, it hurt a lot and for a long time (even now, four weeks later my hip is still tenderized), and this has pretty much codified any “what if” types of concerns in my mind about bicycling. The consequences of falling are in fact far greater pain-wise than I had imagined them to be, and I came away with only a bruise andsome scrapes. Still, I am relatively whiney and jaded about the whole experience.
This month has been a difficult one to keep up with. I started off riding my bike to work on March 1st–for the first time this calendar year, and then wrecked on a giant ice patch on my way home. It bruised both my hip and my motivation to do very much more beyond that. That mixed with some overtime at work ensured that I did little of anything for a while. I would contend that the stressful times are the ones when a person really needs to get out there and blow off some steam, but those are the times when I really just want to check out all together. And I did. If it weren’t for my work-out buddy, Laura, I’d not have done any more than I absolutely had to on any given day. This post is my most recently abandoned sketch of friend Laura executing a ridiculous set of lunges–holding 20 or 30 pounds.
During a jog that took place about two weeks ago, I passed another runner. He was tall, thin, and a high-stepper. He wore a remarkably yellow jacket, and as we passed one another, I swore I could smell lemons.
This week’s drawing also meets a co-worker’s challenge to draw something with crayolas. Check.
I used to think that my nose only dripped in cold temperatures or if I was sick, but ever since I started being more active, I discovered that it runs ALL THE TIME. I thought it would stop or at least slow down; maybe when it gets hot out, or if I work out in doors. No. I’ve finally reconciled the fact that my nose drips copiously; not only when I’m cold, but when my heart rate is up beyond the veg-out-TV-zombie rate that I am used to. If exercise makes you forever young, then I might as well be 9, at the rate my mucus flows. The activity really doesn’t seem to matter; if I’m working, it’s running.
Last week, it occurred to me that sometimes it’s thicker than others. When running outside, it just sort of crystallizes on my upper lip…like a jewel (That’s how I imagine it looks). But when swimming, it seems to be almost thick enough to print with it.
The Securian Winter Run was a lot of fun and a good challenge. While the course wasn’t quite regulation for a half marathon, it was an experience I think I may try again next year. I ran the first half alone–how I usually run. But the second half, I ran with the pace group leader, and we chatted ’til the end, and finished the race with a hug–all of which were firsts for me.
The benefits of running with a pace group are far greater than I’d ever imagined. They not only provide you with company, but they are a source of constant feedback on your speed, allowing yourself to run a little harder than you did last time. You are never left guessing how well you might be doing, because you can see the little balloon with your pace time on it the entire run. That’s bubble number one. Bubble number two is the dime sized blister I got right beneath my right big toe. Also a first for me in a race. It is a good match for the blood blister and the toe nail that is half way off as well. All firsts that evidently come with running long distances. Bubble number three, however, is a usual customer in my life experience. As with many running experiences in public, there was a constant violation of my personal space. Each time I am out running where others are also running, it forces renegotiation of how I manage my bubble and its constant breaching. I always hope there will be a day that I can just accept it for what it is, but for now, I still curse, under my breath, every violator of what is closest and most dear to me.