Friday, June 03, 2005

Run, run as fast as you can

No surprise to its author, yesterday's poem included a rankle cake, as well as the "dumb-ass on TV cake." Surprising, however, to poet and readers alike was the fact that this referred not, as the author once suspected, to the various incarnations of the bachelor on the hetero-sublime and downright creepily noxious television show of the same name, but rather to the Shrub himself, George W.

As I was slogging through today's run, I decided I would pass along running (aka jogging or shuffling, depending on one's speed and level of self-deception) tips to fellow reluctant runners. These are things I wish I had known when I first hit the pavement.
(1) Running never feels good. Though I haven't done a scientific pole, a quick survey of acquaintances who are seasoned runners shows that running feels great only when one is done running. No kidding.
(2) Concentrate on exhaling. All the way. You'll automatically inhale, but if you haven't totally exhaled, you'll start to feel like you can't get enough breath. This feels awful.
(3) Consciously pull your shoulders down. Though doing so may seem like too much when one is concentrating on breathing and avoiding traffic, it pays off. You can't breath properly when your shoulders are up around your ears. Well, I can't.
(4) It's natural to fantasize about stopping, though indulging in this fantasy makes running more tortuous than it already is. My quick tip to nip the fantasy in the bud is to imagine yourself already at the end of the block, jumping up and down in victorious exhaltation, and letting out a triumphant "Yawp!" When you actually get to the end of the block, join the celebration.
(5) An iPod is essential. Listening to music helps ease the "I need to stop and roll around on the grass" fantasy mentioned above. My current favorites include songs by the Magnetic Fields, e.g. "Chicken With Its Head Cut Off," which is especially appropriate, given that is is about running around (like a chicken with its head cut off).

Here's a training tip from today's Dickinsonian oracle:

Fame is a bee.
It has a song--
It has a sting--
Ah, too, it has a wing.
(E. Dickinson, 1787)

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