Running -- Eighty First Post

Dear reader(s), I have a confession. It's terrible, and it makes me a bad interneter. Sharing this will, in fact, have the potential to move this blog from its solid "random tidbits about my life that have little interest for anyone else (except that craigslist thing)" position to something more like a "fitness blog".
I know. Terrible. However, this blog also solidly reflects where I am in my life, and where I've been, and where I would never like to be again (in the case of a whole lot of my earlier posts). So here goes.

I've taken up working out to stave off the boredom of an exceptionally boring summer. Since I didn't have a job for most of the summer, I was pretty much stuck at home filling out job applications. All. Day. Long.
I turned to the internet, since I could take internet breaks from filling out applications and switch back in a heartbeat. Or not. Whatever. In the midst my pintresting, facebooking, and tumblring, I came across several workout blogs. I pinned a few workouts, did fewer, and then started reading the blogs.
This was a mistake. I was no longer content to just sit on the couch and watch Doctor Who all day. Instead, I picked up Buffy the Vampire Slayer because there was a "workout game" on my current favorite tumblr, Back On Pointe. Also, I ran out of seasons of the revamped Doctor Who and I'm stuck in the middle of the second Doctor because of missing episodes. Life in the first world is rough, let me tell you.
Anyway, I joined Fitocracy, which not only tracks your workouts for you (including compiling you a history for each exercise that you've done since joining) and has a thriving community of "fitocrats", but also has a points system that lets you level up, complete with challenges that give you extra points and allows you to "prop" other people's accomplishments and workouts. You can join groups made up of potentially like-minded people whose accomplishments and comments encourage you to work out more. It also has a cute little robot image that calculates your workouts; to close the dialogue box, you have to click the "I'm Awesome" button. Working out is both a game that can be won and a self-esteem booster.
Anyway, one thing led to another and I got into running. And it's not my fault. I tried at the beginning of the summer, and then I got shin splints from wearing heels when I went to The Dark Knight Rises as Catwoman. Admittedly, I was a slightly pudgier catwoman than Anne Hathaway, but still. Shin splints? Running was clearly not a good idea. Besides, I couldn't even run down my very short street without gasping and wheezing for breath. So I gave up on running "for the time being", figuring that I would try again when I was in better shape, with stronger legs, a stronger heart and lungs, and less flab to lug around.
I'm not an unhealthy weight: according to both my doctor and the internet, I have a perfectly healthy BMI. What the internet chart told me that my doctor didn't is that I'm right at the upper limit of healthy. I've been about the same weight, give or take 10 lbs, since ninth grade, and I haven't grown more than half an inch since eighth grade. The thing is that I'm not happy with the way my body looks. Don't get me wrong, it's a great body. It's taken me through a lot without too much griping, and it's put up with a lot of crappy food and piercings over the years. It's just that it could look better if I gave half a fuck.
Besides, I'll never be a Doctor Who companion if I can't even run down the block. Have you seen how much running they do?
So the summer went on, and I kept reading about workouts and working out. Eventually, I found my way to the "Couch-to-5K" (or C25K) site and realized that I could do that. It eases you into running and stresses the importance of not doing too much too soon. Running is hard on your body. It's very good for your body, but that's partly because it's so stinking rough on it. The thing with the body is that to make it stronger, you have to break it down. Muscles get big when you do strength training because the exercise breaks down your muscles just a tiny bit. The body repairs them when you rest, and they grow back bigger and stronger. Running builds up your bones because it's a high-impact activity, meaning that your bones jar against each other and break down a little. As long as you're not running all day, every day, your body will build those bones back up stronger. The problem is that people start too fast, run every day, or just run too much the first day, and hurt themselves. Most of my friends that run regularly enjoy it a lot, so why is it that I hate it so much?
According to the internet, it's because I get myself hurt. I start too fast and expect too much of my body. If I were to ease in, only run a few days a week and for shorter distances at a time, then I'd have a better shot at actually enjoying it. My little brother is on a cross country team, and he loves it. Clearly, running is hiding somewhere in my genes. Now it's my job to convince my body that this running thing is okay. So far, C25K is the best way I've found. Just reading about running, especially trailrunning and minimalist/barefoot running, will make me want to bolt out the door for a lap around the city, but I have to stop at the end of the street. I need self control, will power, and a strict plan to follow. You can buy a C25K plan for your smartphone, which would be nice if I had one, or just keep track of where you are on your own for free, which is what I do. I log my distances and approximate times to fitocracy and run on monday, wednesday, and friday, which should work well for school. I have easy tuesdays and thursdays, so I guess I could run tuesday, thursday, and saturday, but I'm not good at working out on weekends when everyone's around all the time.
N.B.: The people at C25K did not pay me to say all this.

So here's my tip to you: find a workout plan that you can stick with. Make it up yourself or find it on the internet, or both, but stick to it. Work out every day or every other day or even just once a week, but stick with it. Don't let a change in your life like moving or going back to school throw you off. And don't even worry about running if that was your least favorite part of those long-ago PE classes. There are lots of ways, impact or non-impact, indoor and outdoor, to get your cardio done.

I've been tracking my progress since july, and, quite frankly, nothing much has changed. I lose an inch here and there, then gain it back the next week. Granted, I'm more motivated now, but those love handles ain't goin' nowhere. I still can't do a real pushup, although for that I mostly blame my screwy shoulders, since I'm pretty good at tricep dips, knee pushups, incline pushups, and wall pushups, all of which put my arms at different angles but still use the same main muscle groups as real pushups.
That won't stop me from keeping on working out, though. I like working out. I like the way I feel after I've worked out, and I like logging my progress on fitocracy. I like being a part of the internet communities that work out, and I like the smell of my own hard-earned sweat. I like having an excuse to buy yoga pants and a new sports bra. I like giving a fuck about the way my body looks.
Also, I don't mean that I like the smell of not showering for three days, just that I like proof that I worked hard enough to break a sweat.

We're Making Sourdough! (Day 1) -- Seventy Second Post

I'm just going to pretend like this is the 72nd post even though it's somewhere in the sixties.
Anyway, I'm all moved and unemployed and stuff. Goddammit.
This leaves me with a lot of time to watch TV. I've watched all the seasons of the new Doctor Who (bow ties are cool and Matt Smith took the reins very handily, although David Tennant was definitely awesome) and Sherlock, the BBC modern-day show (really, really well done adaptation of the stories). Having run out of TV shows, it gave me a lot more time to think about how stupid it is that I can't find a job and even more time to grumble to myself about how I WOULD have something to do if someone would frigging HIRE ME.

ANYWAY.

With all this free time, I've decided that I can make sourdough starter, no problem. It's not like I have anything else to do, and if I can't remember to have a look at it every 12 hours, then I'm stupid and deserve for it to die. I'm following the instructions from Sourdough Home because it seemed fairly comprehensive.
Since I have a balance, I can do it by weight. Yay for being slightly non-american, I guess!

Day 1: Mixed about 50 g each of unbleached safeway brand white flour and tap water at 21:30.
I put it in a clean (large) applesauce jar, covered it gently with the lid (to keep out bugs, dust, and housemates), and put it on top of the refrigerator. I'll be scraping the sides and doing most of my mixing with a trusty red spatula.

I'll put up some pictures when I get batteries, hopefully tomorrow.
Right now, it's just a thick paste of flour and water. Woo hoo.

Oh, and, incidentally, I'm thinking about starting up yet another blog, this time for baking and for cooking in general. Name ideas include cranberryfairycakes, accidentalvegan, thebrokevegetariancooks, and bakeroutofeggsandbutter.
But I have one for study abroad, crafting, ranting about randomness, and even a defunct one for computer stuff; do I really need a fifth?
My train of thought here is that I could stick with this blog as a conglomeration of my university life, which definitely does not include anything crafty or remotely interesting, maintain my crafty blog over the summers, and continue ignoring the computer blog, while dumping everything that's not crafting or studying abroad here. If, by happy chance, I find myself abroad again, the study abroad adventures will start back up with quasi-regular updates. As it stands, it might be simpler to keep everything on this blog.
If you have thoughts, I'd love comments, but I'm really not expecting anything. Input would be valued, but ultimately ignored. Welcome to life.

Fifty Third Post

As we approach finals week, I find myself less and less inclined to do homework. Rather, I have taken to watching Doctor Who, both the old and new series somewhat simultaneously.
The old series is kind of hilarious. It's got intriguing plotlines and terrible costumes, effects, and fight choreographers. I'm in 1964, and it's in black and white. William Hartnell is the first Doctor, and in this season, he and his 15-year-old granddaughter Susan (I have yet to figure that one out) are trying to return two british schoolteachers, Ian and Barbara, back to London, 1964. Unfortunately, the Tardis is rather broken. Instead of returning them, it drifts aimlessly through space-time, dropping them in unfortunate places about the universe. I'm almost done with the first season, though, and I have high hopes for their safe return.
The villains are... Well, they're more to be pitied than mocked, since they have such terrible costumes. The Daleks, of which I know only through nerd culture references, are introduced early on, although I doubt that they are intended to be a far-reaching series villain. At one point, the group runs across a race of rubber suit-wearing villains with odd headdresses, and that same story arc also features a brain with eyes that lives in a jar. The villains grow more sophisticated as the series continues, and in the second-to-last story arc (I cheated and looked at the descriptions for the next couple episodes to see when the story arc ended), the villains are actually humans trying to kill off an alien race.
I mentioned that I'm also watching the new series, which is only four or five... maybe six seasons along now, as opposed to the 20-odd seasons that the original series boasts. It picks up where the original series left off, featuring the ninth Doctor (played by Christopher Eccleston). He's nothing like the first, which is to be expected. It did throw me off, however, when I watched an episode with an energetic middle-aged action-hero man who saves London from an invasion of animated plastic with the help of a 19-year-old London girl (Rose Tyler, a long-running companion, according to the infographics that keep popping up in my RSS feed) before watching an episode with two suspicious teachers and a cranky old man living in a telephone box in a junkyard (and nothing much else happened).
It was less than promising. However, even in the 20th century, they didn't make 20-odd seasons of a TV show if there was no interest. With any luck, the series would get better. Plus, I keep hearing about a guy with a scarf... the fourth Doctor, I think. I want to make a similar scarf, but I'm not going to until I've seen at least three episodes with him wearing the scarf. Imagine the awkward, nerd-cred destroying conversation with a true believer:
True Believer (TB): "...I like your scarf."
Me: "Thanks."
TB: "Make it yourself?"
Me: "Uh, yeah. It's my Doctor Who scarf."
TB: (excited and suspicious, and justifiably so) "You've seen the original series?"
Me: "Well, some of it..."
TB: "Have you seen the episode with the fourth Doctor when he... (describes episode)?"
Me: "Erm, no. I'm still in the first Doctor's seasons."
TB: "..." (hopes crushed)
Me: (forever labeled as poser)

So yeah, I'm going to wait, no matter how much I want that incredibly long, incredibly stripey nerd culture icon.
I do feel, however, that I have seen enough episodes to qualify for a Tardis mug, found on thinkgeek.com (what a wonderful site!).
Here's some photoshopped fun from the wedding in England (or is it photoshopped? Hmm?).

Also, I realised how crotchety I'm getting when I reread the bit about "even in the 20th century". I'm not sure if that makes me elitist against the 20th century or what, because it really wasn't that long ago. Besides, I spent a pretty solid half of my life in the 1990s. Of course, I watched things like Zoom, Other PBSkids Shows, Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood, Sesame Street, Barney, Wheel of Fortune, Jeopardy, The Price is Right, MacGyver, Hercules, and Xena: Warrior Princess. I may have also caught a couple episodes of a show with Superman in it, since I have odd memories of phone booths and underwear right before a meeting to which the guy with glasses was late. I was under the impression for a few weeks that when one wanted to dress business casual, superhero costumes were in order. I was also convinced that any trouble I found myself in could be solved by having MacGyver around. Hercules or Xena would also be suitable alternatives.
In retrospect, I'm really not sure why my parents let me watch these shows. Anyway, I now pick my own shows, half of which are for the shirtless men that inhabit the strange world of TV land. It's not like I get any attractive men without shirts at college, and a girl has her needs.
That sounded weird, so it's time for bed. Goodnight, world.