Tag-arkiv: Running

Iført ankellange Lycra-løbegavanter

This one time at Copenhagen Marathon

Kender I det at være virkeligt uoplagt? Altså sådan rigtigt teenagedvask? Jeg var ude at løbe den anden dag – ikke fordi jeg gad, men fordi J sendte mig ud ad døren med et selvfedt ‘du kan takke mig bagefter’. Men jeg GAD OVERHOVEDET IKKE. Virkeligt virkeligt ikke. Dem der kender mig indgående ved, at jeg er udstyret med en skamkogt porre til rygrad og efter 10 minutters løb begyndte jeg at gå og ringede til min mor for at tale med hende i et kvarter om ingenting og så løbe de sidste 500 meter hjem. Jeg udstrålende tilsyneladende også vaskeægte ugidelighed, da jeg trådte ind ad døren for J skulle lige høre, om jeg nu have løbet eller om jeg bare var gået over på legepladsen for at sidde der i 45 minutter.

Iført ankellange Lycra-løbegavanter

Iført ankellange Lycra-løbegavanter

Torsdag aften var jeg afsted igen. Motivationen var anderledes i hus – en hel times afbræk fra verdens mest hysteriske afkom. V græder hysteriske nej’er i vildskab, hver gang han skal skiftes, have børstet tænder, have tøj på, spise morgenmad, rydde op efter sig (det har han nok fra moderen), have vasket hår – og sove. Jeg overlod puttetjansen til J og løb. Alt kan jo som bekendt løbes væk. Før i tiden var løb en dejlig overspringshandling, men jeg har også løbet kærestesorger, hovedpine, eksamensangst – og prutter væk. Da J og jeg lige var blevet kærester løb jeg hver gang, jeg havde luft i maven. Pigers prutter dufter jo ellers dejligt af roser, men jeg var alligevel for selvbevidst til bare at give den gas derhjemme (no pun intended), så jeg snørede løbeskoene og løb rosenduften ud af røven. Nu løber jeg hysteriske anfald væk – enten mine egne eller V’s.

Nå, men mens jeg løb kom jeg til at tænke på, hvor glad jeg engang var for at løbe, og hvor nemt det altid var at komme afsted og hvordan turen altid næsten løb sig selv. På med løbetøjet og musik i ørerne og så kunne jeg ellers løbe til Verdens ende. Tilbage i 2007 var jeg endda så vild for at løbe, at jeg helt frivilligt tilmeldte mig Copenhagen Marathon. Jeg løb et marathon. Altså faktisk løb jeg 18 km, og traskede, luntende og slæbte mig langs kantstenene i høj solskin de sidste 26,195 kilometer. Jeg var imponerende 5 timer og 25 minutter om de 42,195 kilometer. Tre gange blev jeg overhalet af feltets formentlig ældste deltager. Hver gang jeg så ham havde han erhvervet sig en ekstra forbinding et sted på kroppen, men han kom tilbage og hver gang var han stadig hurtigere end mig. Jeg kom ikke til skade – Jeg var bare utrolig langsom. Bagefter var jeg også ildrød på hele venstre side af kroppen for, jeg havde ikke overvejet at smøre mig ind i solcreme. Som garvet maratonløber (høhø) kan jeg også indvie de mindre garvede; det er en rigtig god ide at sætte plaster hen over brystvorterne. Det kan hænde at 42 kilometers løb, rask gang, trasken, ja endda slæb sætter sine tarvelige spor på brystvorterne. Ja, det er faktisk lige før, at der var rarere at starte med at amme.

Nå, men altså torsdag var der dejligt løbevejr. Sådan bare arme og shorts løbevejr. Hvis ikke det var, fordi jeg har brug for de knælange Lycra-løbebukser (og -trøje) til at holde flæsket fra at nå sin egenfrekvens. Flæsket er min følgesvend og Lycra er min ven. Jeg kan godt fortælle jer, at det føles rimeligt ubehageligt, når huden lever sit eget liv og banker mod asfalten og ikke er nået tilbage på plads, før jeg er klar til at tage næste skridt. Læs mere om Lycra her.

Vi har haft besøg af den dejligste svigermekanik siden fredag aften. Hun er ikke kun svigermekanik og meget glad for V – hun er også meget sød og det er dejligt at have besøg. Udover 4 kg lakrids har hun medbragt sommer og sol og lige knap 100 graders varme. I går var vi på tur langs Rhinen  – i dag har vi kun formodet at slæbe os de 100 meter, der er hen til nærmeste legeplads og tilbage igen.

Mens familien har holdt velfortjent siesta, har jeg forfattet dette indlæg!

 

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Do you know how it feels to be really lethargic? Like really truely lazy? I was out running the other day – not because I wanted to, but because J sent me out the door with a smug ‘you can thank me later’. I really did NOT want to go AT ALL. Really really not. Those who know me in-depth knows that my spine is very much like a boiled to shame leek and after 10 minutes of running, I started walking and rang my mother just to talk to her for 15 minutes about nothing and then ran the last 500 meters home. Apparently I was radiating genuine indolence when I walked in the door because J asked if I had gone for the run or if I had simply walked to the playground next to our apartment to sit for 45 minutes.

On Thursday evening, I was off again. The urge to get out of the house was completely different – an entire hour’s break from the world’s most hysterical offspring. V cries hysterical no’s in ferocity every time he needs to have his diaper changed, his teeth brushed, get dressed, eat breakfast, clean up after himself (this skill he might just have inherited from his Mother), having his hair washed – when he has to go to bed. I left  the tugging in to J and ran. Everything can be run right. In the past, running was a nice procrastination, but I also run away heartaches, headaches, test anxiety – and farts. When J and I had just met I ran every time I had flatulence. Even though women farts smell of lovely roses, I was still too self-conscious to let go, so I tied my running shoes and ran the farts away. Now I run meltdowns away – either my own or V’s.

Well, while I ran, I came to think of how happy I was once to run, and how easy it always was to get going and how the run is always almost ran itself. Just on with the running gear and music in the earphones and I could run to the end of the world. Back in 2007, I was even so crazy about running that I willingly signed up for the Copenhagen Marathon. I ran a marathon. Well actually I ran 18 km, and plodding, lumbering, and dragged myself along the curbs in the scorching sun the last 26,195 km. I took me impressive 5 hours and 25 minutes to finish the 42.195 km. Three times I was overtaken by the field’s probably the oldest participant. Every time I saw him he had acquired an extra bandage somewhere on his body, but he came back and every time he was still faster than me. I did not get hurt – I was just incredibly slow. Afterwards I was also bright red on the whole left side of my body, I had not thought about using sunscreen on this bright and sunny day. As a seasoned marathon runner (haha) I can also inaugurate the less experienced; it’s a good idea to put a bandaid over ones nipples. It may happen that a 42-kilometer run, brisk walking, trudging and even dragging will set its tacky track on the nipples. If I had to choose I would properly choose a breastfeeding start-up to the unprotected nipple after a marathon situation any day of the week.

Anyways, on Thursday it was great running weather. Like T-shirts and shorts kind of running weather. If it was not because I needed the knee-length Lycra running pants (and shirt) to keep my bacon from reaching its resonant frequency. Bacon is my companion and Lycra is my friend. I can tell you that it feels fairly uncomfortable when the skin is living its own life and banks against the asphalt and do not come back in place before I’m ready to take the next step. Read more about Lycra here.

We have been visited by the nicest Mother-in-Law since Friday evening. She is not only my Mother-in-Law and very good with V – she is also very sweet and it’s very nice to have a visitor. In addition to the 4 kg licorice, she also brought summer and sun and just under 100 degrees. Yesterday we went on a trip along the Rhine – Today we have only managed to drag ourselves 100 meters to the nearest playground and back again.

While the family has had a well-deserved siesta, I have written this post!