I know I have a ridiculous number of blogs listed on the left here, but if you scroll all the way to the bottom, you'll see a new addition. See her, down there, my little Nike running girl? I love her. Or, more accurately, I love my Nike+. If you don't know what that is, it's basically a little kit with a sensor that sits on my shoe and a receiver that plugs into the bottom of my Nano. It tracks the distance and speed of my runs, but even better, it's a little electronic trainer. My Nike+ trainer has a woman's voice (I really need a name for her, don't I? Hmmm.), and she is the best. She tells me how far I've gone, a half-km at a time, and anytime I ask her, she tells me how fast I'm running and my exact distance. After a run in the rain last week, a new lady congratulated me - I'd PR'ed on my mile time, dodging drops. Sweet! I'm not sure how accurate she is - I'll have to test it out at a 5K sometime, or on a track (unlikely) - but I can tell you she's a great motivator.
I've only recently taken up running again, after more than a year off. It's more enjoyable than it's ever been. When I'm running, whether on sidewalks downtown or trails in Rock Creek Park, there's rarely a run where I don't feel, for at least a kilometer, like a runner. I should explain, I run very slowly. Not quite as slowly as my little runner girl on this page would have you believe - that time includes some walking after I finish my run - but slowly. And every time I catch a glimpse of myself in a plate glass window, I'm shocked. I lumber. I plod. I'm hunched over and monster-y. But I feel like an athlete. I feel like I'm standing up straighter and my legs are moving faster than they actually are. But a kid on a swing feels like she's flying, and so do I. I guess that's what really matters.
GDoN “Bedrooms are privately tucked away” edition
35 minutes ago