The date has been set! I'm so excited! Now the planning begins. I just need to pick what to wear, who to invite, I definitely need to figure out music...
No, those aren't wedding-bells I'm hearing. If anything, I'm hearing the bang of a gun and the heavy heaving and panting of 1,000+ sweaty runners. But I have officially registered for the Salt Lake City Half-Marathon, so let's do this thing!
...Well, let's do this thing tomorrow. You see, I'm still recovering from my toenail-surgery. I just have to tell you all, last weekend was brutal. Brutal because it was so not brutal. I had friends bringing me delicious food (which I greatly appreciated, don't get me wrong here) I sat all the live-long day, and for some reason it just drove me crazy. C'mon, why would I want to take it easy when I was soaring? My bandages will come off on Wednesday, so I can get back to my flying soon enough.
The race will be April 16th, 2011 at 7:00 AM. I think it can safely be assumed that a lot is going to happen from now until then, and you can be sure to hear all about it right here.
Until next time, keep your goggles clean and your compass steady... Make today an adventure!
Monday, February 28, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Let's Have A Look Back...
Wow, do my toes hurt. I really wasn't expecting them to be this bad, but when I woke up (after a difficult night of wanting to toss-and-turn but having to keep my body flat) my toes felt on the verge of bursting! For all I know, they could have. Man, I sure wish I could have gone running today. It would help with the guilt I'm feeling now from eating the delicious "get-well-soon"snacks provided by my wonderful amigos (You know who you are, and GRACIAS!) But these things take time, and I don't want to rush recovery. I want this problem fixed and I want it fixed right! In the meantime, I'll somehow find a way to manage with my beautiful new... sandals. Oh, didn't you hear? Black-and-blocky shoes are totally in season now.
Oh, I'll get back to posting about my "adventurous" life soon, but I just wanted to take a moment to look back on some things.
So I just got back from a friends house, and the subject of being heavy when we were younger briefly came up (I told you I'd post about it! Haha!) Well, to be honest, I've never been huge. I've never had a horrible weight-problem, I've never been obese. But I don't want to be too lenient with myself; Many years back (in Junior High) I was struggling. Though I never weighed myself in those years (self-esteem issues can be a royal-pain in the rear) I'm willing to bet that at my heaviest, I was anywhere from 180-200. (I'm totally just spit-balling here) I hadn't even grown to my current height yet! Well, couple being a few pounds overweight with the emotions of being a teenager, and naturally you'll end up with a pretty poor feeling of self-worth.
But I do have to give 14/15 year-old Hayden credit... He recognized a problem before it got out of hand, and he promised himself he'd work on it and fix it. And though these past years have brought a fair share of trials and tribulations, things have all worked out. I'm now sitting at 164 pounds, my body-fat percentage is that of an "athlete" (still can't tell you how truly happy that makes me) I run and I run hard, and I am really proud of what I have done and how far I have come. True, you can always improve and keep going, but I just wanted to take this moment to pat myself on the back. (hopefully you can take the opportunity to do that yourself today! Even if it's not in regards to weight-loss, give yourself a well-deserved compliment. AND DO IT NOW.)
I make it sound like my happiness is solely dependent on my weight... Please, don't let yourself think that. There are several other factors that have helped evolve my happiness that I sure hope to cover throughout the course of this blog. A loving family, a spiritual journey, a great friend, a man and his mouse... All of these things have played such a positive role in my life. They make me want to make each day worth remembering. They make each day an adventure. Speaking of which, I can't wait to show you all what I have been working on! Until tomorrow (actually later today, shame on me for staying up so late) keep your goggles clean and your compass steady... Make today an adventure!
Oh, I'll get back to posting about my "adventurous" life soon, but I just wanted to take a moment to look back on some things.
So I just got back from a friends house, and the subject of being heavy when we were younger briefly came up (I told you I'd post about it! Haha!) Well, to be honest, I've never been huge. I've never had a horrible weight-problem, I've never been obese. But I don't want to be too lenient with myself; Many years back (in Junior High) I was struggling. Though I never weighed myself in those years (self-esteem issues can be a royal-pain in the rear) I'm willing to bet that at my heaviest, I was anywhere from 180-200. (I'm totally just spit-balling here) I hadn't even grown to my current height yet! Well, couple being a few pounds overweight with the emotions of being a teenager, and naturally you'll end up with a pretty poor feeling of self-worth.
But I do have to give 14/15 year-old Hayden credit... He recognized a problem before it got out of hand, and he promised himself he'd work on it and fix it. And though these past years have brought a fair share of trials and tribulations, things have all worked out. I'm now sitting at 164 pounds, my body-fat percentage is that of an "athlete" (still can't tell you how truly happy that makes me) I run and I run hard, and I am really proud of what I have done and how far I have come. True, you can always improve and keep going, but I just wanted to take this moment to pat myself on the back. (hopefully you can take the opportunity to do that yourself today! Even if it's not in regards to weight-loss, give yourself a well-deserved compliment. AND DO IT NOW.)
I make it sound like my happiness is solely dependent on my weight... Please, don't let yourself think that. There are several other factors that have helped evolve my happiness that I sure hope to cover throughout the course of this blog. A loving family, a spiritual journey, a great friend, a man and his mouse... All of these things have played such a positive role in my life. They make me want to make each day worth remembering. They make each day an adventure. Speaking of which, I can't wait to show you all what I have been working on! Until tomorrow (actually later today, shame on me for staying up so late) keep your goggles clean and your compass steady... Make today an adventure!
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Down & Out? I Don't Think So
I've been blogging about my running for a mere 4 days now, and I already have to take a break. LAME.
But I can promise you that I'm not taking this hiatus because I want to. I just got back from the doc's, where he corrected my ingrown toenails on both big toes. It's a surgery I've been needing for awhile, and it'll help my running significantly; now I won't have to worry about hurting my feet when I run. But if I want my wee-little-toes to heal properly, I have to stay in bed with my feet elevated for 24 hours, I have to be easy on my feet until next Tuesday, and the doc said I shouldn't run for at least another week, maybe even a week and some change.
But are my skies grey? Are clouds moving in?
NEV-AH!
I'm stuck in a bed, but I'm going to crank out a lot of art projects, mark my words! Heck, I may even post them on this blog, seeing as my thousands of followers will not stop demanding them of me... :) (is it wrong that I want this blog to go all Julie Powell?) I have commissions to finish, personal projects that need to be started, and a lot of mindless doodling that is long past due. I am excited for this weekend, and this break from running, although it scares me from a training stand-point, is currently well-received. (My first run after recovery is going to be interesting, that's all I'll say)
Oh, I have some great news! I had a skin-fold test today, and my results definitely put a smile on my face. My fat-percentage is now low enough that I my body composition is considered to be: Athletic. Not average, not OK, not satisfactory, not fit... ATHLETIC! Boo-yah.
But I can promise you that I'm not taking this hiatus because I want to. I just got back from the doc's, where he corrected my ingrown toenails on both big toes. It's a surgery I've been needing for awhile, and it'll help my running significantly; now I won't have to worry about hurting my feet when I run. But if I want my wee-little-toes to heal properly, I have to stay in bed with my feet elevated for 24 hours, I have to be easy on my feet until next Tuesday, and the doc said I shouldn't run for at least another week, maybe even a week and some change.
But are my skies grey? Are clouds moving in?
NEV-AH!
I'm stuck in a bed, but I'm going to crank out a lot of art projects, mark my words! Heck, I may even post them on this blog, seeing as my thousands of followers will not stop demanding them of me... :) (is it wrong that I want this blog to go all Julie Powell?) I have commissions to finish, personal projects that need to be started, and a lot of mindless doodling that is long past due. I am excited for this weekend, and this break from running, although it scares me from a training stand-point, is currently well-received. (My first run after recovery is going to be interesting, that's all I'll say)
Oh, I have some great news! I had a skin-fold test today, and my results definitely put a smile on my face. My fat-percentage is now low enough that I my body composition is considered to be: Athletic. Not average, not OK, not satisfactory, not fit... ATHLETIC! Boo-yah.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Finding That Inspiration
(This post is not of a new adventure, but a closer look into my experiences as a runner. I promise it's just as good, and wreaks of sentiment, tenderness, emotion and such just as much, if not more so, than the other posts.)
Running on a treadmill; sadly, it isn't ideal. But when the world outside is boasting single-digit temperatures, and the wind and the snow aren't in short supply, I'm afraid the thought of running outdoors holds absolutely no appeal. Shocking, I know. So, as you've probably assumed, I've spent a majority of my winter-running in a noisy, congested gym, sweating and slaving on that glorified spinning belt. (To the treadmill's credit, it does charge my iPod. Which is spectacular. But don't tell it I said that, it's still on my bad side.)
Running outside is such an incredible sensory experience. You feel your progress, you enjoy the sun, the scenes, the energy. Running indoors, although a sensory experience... it ain't a pretty one. It smells terrible, you're stuck in the same spot for up to an hour-and-a-half, and you keep running at the same pace on the same ground looking at the same wall. So you really have to dig deep when you press "Start" and that belt gets a-goin'.
What helps? Music. Definitely music. Great music gets you physically, emotionally, and mentally invested in your run. But even inspiration via music has it's limit. I can only listen to "nameless motivating song" so many times before its purpose shifts from inspiring to maddening. I've heard it's nice to workout in a gym because it puts your mind in a competitive mode: you want to beat the guy next to you! Sure, that works when you're on the same page physically speaking, even if you're running along side a fit person you feel you can "one up", but when Señor Speedy-McBuffpants is attempting to break the sound-barrier on the treadmill next to you, it's a little hard to be that little-engine-that-could.
The worst part of the treadmill-experience? The clock. Try as hard as you can, but sooner or later you're going to catch a glance of that clock and realize that you've only been running for 13 minutes when you could swear it's been at least 30. That's a big confidence-bummer. But it's at that time when you really have to do some self-evaluation: Why am I on this treadmill? What else could I be doing right now? Is this the best thing for me? Do I have what it takes to finish this hour run, even though it's only be 10 minutes and I can hear St. Peter calling my name?
I experienced all of these doubts today, and a handful more. I promised myself that I was going to run a 5K in under 28 minutes. I had already exhausted myself with weight-lifting, so I knew that this run wasn't going to be pretty. For some inexplicable reason I felt like being especially malicious to myself, so I cranked up the speed and set the incline high. Why did I do this? CAN I do this?!?
You bet I can. It's gonna suck, and oh-boy it did, but I am going to feel so great afterwards. Sure, I want to stop. I'm sure I could go home and catch up on my Paula Deen. But this is not going to kill me, I can push past this minor mental-block, and I'm going to feel so proud, so happy, and so gosh-darn awesome that I not only finished, but I excelled*. I ran faster and stronger than I had thought I would. The inspiration HAS to come from within. Superficial motivators, though nice to have, are not the necessities. That burning-passion within you is what's going to make that dream come true.
This quote kept me going today:
"Regardless of how distant your dreams may seem, every second counts."
That's a quote by a pro-runner (who's name escapes me...) for runners, but it's one of those beauties that can be applied to any facet of life, and is a large influence on the theme of this blog. No doubt you'll see it pop up again soon. I hope it means something to you, because it speaks such a great truth: You want to run a marathon? You better start running. You want to be a famous artist? Pick up that brush. You want the world to worship your recipes? Start cookin'.
*For those who care, I ran 3.1 miles in 27.33. And yes, I am ridiculously proud of that.
Running on a treadmill; sadly, it isn't ideal. But when the world outside is boasting single-digit temperatures, and the wind and the snow aren't in short supply, I'm afraid the thought of running outdoors holds absolutely no appeal. Shocking, I know. So, as you've probably assumed, I've spent a majority of my winter-running in a noisy, congested gym, sweating and slaving on that glorified spinning belt. (To the treadmill's credit, it does charge my iPod. Which is spectacular. But don't tell it I said that, it's still on my bad side.)
Running outside is such an incredible sensory experience. You feel your progress, you enjoy the sun, the scenes, the energy. Running indoors, although a sensory experience... it ain't a pretty one. It smells terrible, you're stuck in the same spot for up to an hour-and-a-half, and you keep running at the same pace on the same ground looking at the same wall. So you really have to dig deep when you press "Start" and that belt gets a-goin'.
What helps? Music. Definitely music. Great music gets you physically, emotionally, and mentally invested in your run. But even inspiration via music has it's limit. I can only listen to "nameless motivating song" so many times before its purpose shifts from inspiring to maddening. I've heard it's nice to workout in a gym because it puts your mind in a competitive mode: you want to beat the guy next to you! Sure, that works when you're on the same page physically speaking, even if you're running along side a fit person you feel you can "one up", but when Señor Speedy-McBuffpants is attempting to break the sound-barrier on the treadmill next to you, it's a little hard to be that little-engine-that-could.
The worst part of the treadmill-experience? The clock. Try as hard as you can, but sooner or later you're going to catch a glance of that clock and realize that you've only been running for 13 minutes when you could swear it's been at least 30. That's a big confidence-bummer. But it's at that time when you really have to do some self-evaluation: Why am I on this treadmill? What else could I be doing right now? Is this the best thing for me? Do I have what it takes to finish this hour run, even though it's only be 10 minutes and I can hear St. Peter calling my name?
I experienced all of these doubts today, and a handful more. I promised myself that I was going to run a 5K in under 28 minutes. I had already exhausted myself with weight-lifting, so I knew that this run wasn't going to be pretty. For some inexplicable reason I felt like being especially malicious to myself, so I cranked up the speed and set the incline high. Why did I do this? CAN I do this?!?
You bet I can. It's gonna suck, and oh-boy it did, but I am going to feel so great afterwards. Sure, I want to stop. I'm sure I could go home and catch up on my Paula Deen. But this is not going to kill me, I can push past this minor mental-block, and I'm going to feel so proud, so happy, and so gosh-darn awesome that I not only finished, but I excelled*. I ran faster and stronger than I had thought I would. The inspiration HAS to come from within. Superficial motivators, though nice to have, are not the necessities. That burning-passion within you is what's going to make that dream come true.
This quote kept me going today:
"Regardless of how distant your dreams may seem, every second counts."
That's a quote by a pro-runner (who's name escapes me...) for runners, but it's one of those beauties that can be applied to any facet of life, and is a large influence on the theme of this blog. No doubt you'll see it pop up again soon. I hope it means something to you, because it speaks such a great truth: You want to run a marathon? You better start running. You want to be a famous artist? Pick up that brush. You want the world to worship your recipes? Start cookin'.
*For those who care, I ran 3.1 miles in 27.33. And yes, I am ridiculously proud of that.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Painting My World: Adventure #2
My love for murals began 4-5 years back, when I repainted my bedroom. I wasn't like most boys my age... I didn't opt for a conservative (and tragically boring) egg-shell, nor did I go with any old shade of red, blue, or green. Grey and black? Too harsh, too über-masculine, not me. It was Summer, and with nothing much for the kids to do, my mom thought it'd be a great time to repaint our home's bedrooms. Naturally, she asked what color I wanted to paint my room. Well, I knew what I wanted, but I didn't want to overwhelm my mom with the great, spectacular vision I had of a pirate's tavern; water stains, wine splashes, dirt, and all other "pirate-matter" gushing down my walls... So I broke it down to its simplest form: Tan.
Tan? My mom has always had a brilliant eye for color, and I could tell that "tan" wasn't sitting well with her, and that she wasn't expecting such a suggestion to come from me. But tan it was to be, despite my discontent and despite my mother's hesitation. The time came to buy paint, and just to make sure, my mom asked me, "what do you really want your room to look like?" Gotta love that mother's instinct. I began gushing about my vision. I showed her pictures I had drawn, reference photos, I described to her in great detail everything I wanted my room to look like. My mom smiled, gave my idea the thumbs-up, and forward we went with this new plan. (Looking back, I'm really not surprised that my mom accepted my wild idea, simply because she's such an amazing mom.)
For the next few weeks, my mom and I scoured numerous faux-painting books at Barnes & Noble, looked up painting techniques online, my mom even had a painting expert come to give us some advice. I remember the expert being so bewildered by our idea, but she pointed us in the right direction and provided us with all of the tips and info we needed. So armed with brushes, thinner, and sponges (the necessary tools to realize my dream) we began marauding my poor room. We slaughtered that room until it evolved into a dank, dark, damp, dim pirate's lair. Exactly what I had wanted. Add a large iron lantern, attach it to a dimmer, and my room was complete. (Cue flickering candle effect.)
Or was it? I now realized that the walls of my room weren't just walls; they were great canvases that I could just smother with whatever creation I wanted to! Why should I be content with just painting on paper when I had endless expanses of wall at my disposal?! Which brings me to Adventure #2...
ADVENTURE #2: PAINT A MURAL ON MY WALL
It's gotta be big, it's gotta be detailed, and it's gotta be amazing.
The subject of my mural? Well, you're just going to have to keep checking in to find out! ... If any of you are checking in at all. Hello? Anyone reading me? ...Anyone?
Tan? My mom has always had a brilliant eye for color, and I could tell that "tan" wasn't sitting well with her, and that she wasn't expecting such a suggestion to come from me. But tan it was to be, despite my discontent and despite my mother's hesitation. The time came to buy paint, and just to make sure, my mom asked me, "what do you really want your room to look like?" Gotta love that mother's instinct. I began gushing about my vision. I showed her pictures I had drawn, reference photos, I described to her in great detail everything I wanted my room to look like. My mom smiled, gave my idea the thumbs-up, and forward we went with this new plan. (Looking back, I'm really not surprised that my mom accepted my wild idea, simply because she's such an amazing mom.)
For the next few weeks, my mom and I scoured numerous faux-painting books at Barnes & Noble, looked up painting techniques online, my mom even had a painting expert come to give us some advice. I remember the expert being so bewildered by our idea, but she pointed us in the right direction and provided us with all of the tips and info we needed. So armed with brushes, thinner, and sponges (the necessary tools to realize my dream) we began marauding my poor room. We slaughtered that room until it evolved into a dank, dark, damp, dim pirate's lair. Exactly what I had wanted. Add a large iron lantern, attach it to a dimmer, and my room was complete. (Cue flickering candle effect.)
Or was it? I now realized that the walls of my room weren't just walls; they were great canvases that I could just smother with whatever creation I wanted to! Why should I be content with just painting on paper when I had endless expanses of wall at my disposal?! Which brings me to Adventure #2...
ADVENTURE #2: PAINT A MURAL ON MY WALL
It's gotta be big, it's gotta be detailed, and it's gotta be amazing.
The subject of my mural? Well, you're just going to have to keep checking in to find out! ... If any of you are checking in at all. Hello? Anyone reading me? ...Anyone?
Monday, February 21, 2011
And so it begins! Adventure #1
ADVENTURE #1: Run A Marathon
It's an idea I never even considered growing up: running a marathon. Yet here I stand today seriously humoring the thought! I was "kind of" a runner when I was younger, if you'll accept heavily shuffling once every harvest moon running. It hasn't been until recently that I really started to get into this running scene. I began seriously running several months ago, mostly to give me a break from the day's craziness, to feel that wind in my face, and to help me destroy those nasty extra pounds I felt that I had carried throughout my life. Well, it satisfied all conditions! I'm a runner now. It just thrills me to be able to say that.
I'll be honest, though, my runs maxed at about 3-5 miles, a measly distance when compared to the expanses that most other runners cover. Am I a runner? You bet. You want me to run a marathon? Psh. But that's what my Personal Health & Wellness teacher (who happens to be a seasoned marathoner, having ran 10+ marathons in his life, and who also happens to be my father) asked of my class. He said that if we trained properly, regardless of our current fitness-level, we could be well on our way to running a marathon in a matter of months. Then the thought hit me: I wasn't in terrible shape NOW. I could do this marathon! I could accept this challenge!
Both of my parents are runners, and as a kid I just sat on the curb and cheered them on as they ran past. I feel like I spent too much time as a kid sitting on a curb, never wanting to venture forth and risk having an adventure. But not anymore. I'm leaping up and joining the parade! And that parade is going to have to do some serious sprinting to keep up with this guy.
So for about the past two months, I've been training for a marathon. Which, sadly, isn't going to work out (the marathon, that is). Given the fact that I'll be leaving my home in 80 days (a matter I'll discuss in a later post) I cannot physically ready myself to run a marathon in such a short time. So my adventure has had some slight modification...
Adventure #1: Run a HALF-Marathon.
The race: The Salt Lake City Half Marathon. The date: Saturday April 16th, 2010.
(I figure that is 13.1 miles more than I've ever ran in a race-setting before, so that's better than nothing.)
It's an idea I never even considered growing up: running a marathon. Yet here I stand today seriously humoring the thought! I was "kind of" a runner when I was younger, if you'll accept heavily shuffling once every harvest moon running. It hasn't been until recently that I really started to get into this running scene. I began seriously running several months ago, mostly to give me a break from the day's craziness, to feel that wind in my face, and to help me destroy those nasty extra pounds I felt that I had carried throughout my life. Well, it satisfied all conditions! I'm a runner now. It just thrills me to be able to say that.
I'll be honest, though, my runs maxed at about 3-5 miles, a measly distance when compared to the expanses that most other runners cover. Am I a runner? You bet. You want me to run a marathon? Psh. But that's what my Personal Health & Wellness teacher (who happens to be a seasoned marathoner, having ran 10+ marathons in his life, and who also happens to be my father) asked of my class. He said that if we trained properly, regardless of our current fitness-level, we could be well on our way to running a marathon in a matter of months. Then the thought hit me: I wasn't in terrible shape NOW. I could do this marathon! I could accept this challenge!
Both of my parents are runners, and as a kid I just sat on the curb and cheered them on as they ran past. I feel like I spent too much time as a kid sitting on a curb, never wanting to venture forth and risk having an adventure. But not anymore. I'm leaping up and joining the parade! And that parade is going to have to do some serious sprinting to keep up with this guy.
So for about the past two months, I've been training for a marathon. Which, sadly, isn't going to work out (the marathon, that is). Given the fact that I'll be leaving my home in 80 days (a matter I'll discuss in a later post) I cannot physically ready myself to run a marathon in such a short time. So my adventure has had some slight modification...
Adventure #1: Run a HALF-Marathon.
The race: The Salt Lake City Half Marathon. The date: Saturday April 16th, 2010.
(I figure that is 13.1 miles more than I've ever ran in a race-setting before, so that's better than nothing.)
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