As I keep trying to become a ”runner” I have read many an article of the right and wrong things to do.

I have learned that I tie my shoes correctly. That I eat the right proteins for before and after. That I have to do intervals, That I need to run up stairs and hills to build strength and become faster. I have learned that I just need to go. Yet, I find myself on the fence about underwear.

So many arguments about wearing underwear on a run.  Some Pro’s some Con’s. Honestly, mostly con’s! The argument that it is unhealthy to wear underwear on a run baffles me. You are still wearing pants. At least I hope you are wearing pants, unless you are in Portland doing the Bare Buns Run, then pants are not allowed. But, in real life on real runs you were pants. Sweats, shorts, leggings, skorts….. some type of garment.. that covers your privates….like underwear would! How can it be healthier? The argument just baffles me.

Meanwhile, I choose to wear underwear and all is healthy under there. So far, knock on Hanes.

Confessions of a revenge wogger…..

I have had a hard time getting a run in lately. The last day I got out was Sunday… I think. It feels like it might have been a Sunday morning wog.

I am not sure revenge is really the best motivator for me. Perhaps knowing that I have told everyone, with the exception of the friend I want revenge on, that I have a goal. A master plan. An evil revenge plot. A desire to beat her.

One would think that failing or falling in front of others would be motivation enough.

Yet here I sit, nursing my sorrows and semi sore throat with a Bloody Mary wishing I had the energy and focus to train.

At least with the Bloody Mary I have had two servings of veggies for dinner.

And I should mention how thankful I am right now for spell check.

Revenge…. I will have it. Even if I fail, I will have revenge on my own self.

Self Made Crutches

I went for a wog today. First time in probably a week. The weather was perfect. The timing was perfect. Yet it was the worst wog ever…

Alright perhaps that is a slight exaggeration.

I have discovered that I make crutches for myself. Some may call them excuses. I think they are more like crutches because I use them to fall back on and hold my story of failing to meet a goal.

My crutches today: asthma is acting up, knee has weird crick feeling in it, I am the only I will let down if I don’t get better at this no one else cares if I hit my goal, this is too hard, everyone running past me are really runners, I am not a runner.


I find the battle in my mind the hardest.

Yes, I struggle with breathing, but workouts make my lungs stronger, healthier.

I am the only one that cares about my goals but that doesn’t mean I need to let myself down. I am worthy up doing something good, and strong, and healthy and noteworthy.

I am a runner. A slow, awkward, runner, who cries and sings to herself on her wogs.

It is hard and it will get harder before it gets better. Life is hard and it gets harder before it gets better. I too am hard and will get harder before I get better.

I am older too. Cricks and slight aches and pains are treatable, not deal breakers.

How many times I have mentally duct taped those self made crutches together is pitiful.

Time for a healing. Time to dump the crutches for good.

Always be prepared….

If I had been a Boy Scout I may have learned this lesson by now.

Running, jogging, wogging is an all new challenge for me. I have never liked it. BUT I am hell bent on revenge in May so I am making myself do it. I do however workout a lot in many other forms. Zumba is one. In truth I am a Zumba instructor and teach classes three nights a week after working my real job. I consider this as part of my cross-training for wogging.

Somedays I barely get off work in time to  get to class.  So I have started packing my bag of workout clothes and bringing it into work with me so I can change before I leave. You know, being prepared. Most days I have been getting out of work early enough to actually drive home change, eat and then get to class. Until this past Tuesday…..

There are many fires burning around the Inland Northwest area. All the smoke moved into my beautiful city on Saturday. Having asthma and allergies it has been a struggle to breathe and quite honestly think.  This is how it played out Tuesday:

I packed my bag. I decided that I would pack the skort I haven’t worn for years (you know, powerful chaffing thighs and all). With that plan I also packed my Body Glide for Her in my bag along with shoes, good bra, and wicking shirt.

The parking lot is being repaved at work so I have to park way out in the boondocks. The long walk in the smokey air is not a fun thing. I decide that I will move my car at lunch when the early shift goes home so I am closer and will bring my bag in with me then.

Lunchtime rolls around and I am still struggling for air in my lungs. I am not going outside for that long walk until I absolutely have to. I have plenty of time.

Work runs long. I punch out at 5:45 PM. Then visit with my boss and another co-worker about their ailing mom. I glance at the clock 6! It is 6 already! Class starts at 6:15 and it takes 13 minutes to get there from here. Yikes! I still have to walk the long walk to my car because I didn’t move it at lunch like I usually do. Oh boy!

I get to my car. I drive slightly faster than usual. I run into the gym and yell ‘I am here, I have to change’ because I didn’t bring my bag in with me like I usually do.

I rush to the bathroom and realize that I packed a skort, a SKORT!! What was I thinking my thighs will be chapped by end of class. Suddenly I see the Glide stick!! Oh yeah, I forgot! So I open it up and begin to rub it on. Not thinking about how hot is has been in the car all day. So it comes off in white chunks. Big white chunks. I use my hand to try to rub it in. I have to use it. And the stuff is quite pricey so I don’t want to waste it. It goes on like deodorant and is sticky at first. Today it went on like Crisco with evidence everywhere.

Teaching class with two white streaked inner thighs and one sticky hand. Lesson learned. I was happy that I at least remembered to pack my underwear this time. It has happened.

Always be prepared. There is a reason they teach this.

What the what.

I am not sure how fellow female long distance runners do it.

Seriously, how do you run when you have your period? And cramps? And lethargy? I can’t even begin to wrap my head around the idea. All I want to do is run a consistent 5K and constantly beat my own PR. I like  the 5K for many reasons. NO chaffing, no nipple bleeds, no muscle fatigue, the feeling of being able to beat someone instead of ‘just finishing’.  Let me tell you though, just the thought of walking three miles today took every ounce of determination today!  Honestly, I just want to sleep all day with my Midol IV hooked up to my arm on a continuous drip. They should really invent sublingual Pamprin so I can double dose myself into a false sense of comfort. Bloated, tired, cramps, how could you possibly run 5,8,10 miles? Is there a secret switch in our bodies that turns that off after you hit mile 4? Do you pray that the big run doesn’t fall on the same day Aunt Flo visits? Where would you keep your backup supply since workout clothes barely have pockets big enough for your i.d.?

Days like today kill my revenge mood.

By the way, I am just inquiring for a friend. 😉