So, Nike has this nice little animated video. Like most things that Nike seem to produce media-wise (I’m not talking about the sweatshops), it’s more inspirational than anything else.
It’s a nice little video so I thought I would share it here:
Train Warnings
I get the impression that train managers have their favourite warnings to give during train journeys. There are a few standard warnings, but then there are the âWhere did that come from?â warnings.
Last year, a train manager came onto the speaker and talked for nearly 5 minutes about how important it is that we donât flush the toilet in stations. Saying it once, I can understand, but this guy wouldnât let it go. âI must stress that you must not flush toilets in stations. It is acceptable between stations, but not while stopped in a station. I repeat, that flushing toilets in the station . . . â and on and on he went.
Why canât I flush the toilet at the station? Is there a trap door that drops under the train and leaves a turd in the middle of the tracks? Is it so we donât have to stand on the platform waiting for a train while trying not to acknowledge the huge dump in the middle of the tracks? Toilet paper and all? If it is a trap door, why is it okay to do it while travelling through the residential areas leading into the city? If we arenât allowed to flush in the stations, can you still use the toilet without flushing? Do they just leave it there until the train leaves again and they can dispose of it away from platforms?
The only reason people run to the toilet before leaving the train is that the toilets at Paddington station cost 30p to use. 30p is not a lot of money, sure. But thereâs the whole problem of fishing around in your pockets for the right change when youâre dancing around with a full bladder.
Anyway, this is not about train toilets.
Last week, a train manager spent a few minutes explaining to passengers why it is a bad idea to put our head out the windows while the train is moving. It wasnât a joke, she was serious. I suspect someone must have done it and she saw him and didnât want everyone else to jump on the bandwagon. She talked at length about how close some objects pass to the train and how it could result in injury. We sat there, many people in their business suits and blackberries, being lectured to like children. It went on for over a minute. When she finished talking(âI must stress, once again, that you must not hang your head out of the train window while the train is moving. Thank youâ), someone sitting a few rows behind me added, âYeah, and donât mess around with the electric sockets.â
Outran my nipples, but am ready for the Half Marathon
Training for the half-marathon is going well. This morning, I woke at 3:30am. I dressed, synced up my iPod, and hit the road by 4. I ran 13.25 miles. It took me 1 hour and 50 minutes.
I now donât have to doubt whether I can run the half marathon in 12 days time. I know I can. The only question is how well will I do on the day. And can I keep from injuring myself until that time?
This morningâs long run was interesting. Although itâs getting lighter earlier, at 4am, itâs still pitch dark. This morning, while running through a long stretch of road with no traffic lights or buildings, I heard something rustling in the bushes besides me. You never seen someone run so fast! I was hoping a car would drive past so I would have the benefit of some headlights instead of my small wind-up flashlight. Whatever it was, it didnât chase me. I made it through the rest of the run pretty well.
Iâm on the train home from work now. The run was ages ago. I think I found every opportunity today to casually mention my run this morning to anyone I could. Like, Iâd stand up and my legs feel very heavy, so Iâd say âYeah. Went for a long run this morning so I feel a little sore.â But no one would ask âHow far?â So I just add an unsolicited âYep, 13 miles.â It was shameful, really.
But my biggest problem today is my nipples. Back when I first ran a half-marathon at age 20, I was surprised how my sweat-soaked shirt bounced up and down and basically rubbed my nipples raw. So, I used to either tape them up or cover them in Vaseline. Well, the same thing happened this morning. I didnât noticed how bad it was until I got home and jumped in the shower. I yelped at the stinging sensation. Thereâs blood on my running shirt. For the past few weeks, Iâve been doing ten mile runs with no problem, but today they chafed at 13 miles. My nipples have a 10-mile limit. Who knew?
But, itâs nice to know that at age 36 I can still run the distance I did at 21. Not as fast, of course, but I could endure it. So as I sit here, trying to restrict my movements so my shirt doesnât rub against my chest, I can be satisfied with what Iâve achieved.
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