You Can Call Me Forrest.

28 03 2008

So I started running late last year – all in preparation for a half-marathon on April 27th.  I know what you’re thinking: “Who are you and what have you done with Sandy Marks?”  I ask myself those questions a lot.  After all, I am the girl who, at one time, would rather have gone to the movies than hang out outside on a beautiful day.  But I think that’s changed.  At least a little.

To be honest, I’m pretty proud of myself.  I can definitely run 12 miles now without worrying about whether or not I can finish.  I do between 3 and 5 miles twice a week, which is now pretty easy, and then long runs with friends on Saturdays – usually all over DC.  I totally get a kick out of running on the Mall while listening to songs like “Fortunate Son” and other 60’s/70’s protest music.  It’s very cool to imagine all of the people that were standing right under my footsteps all those years ago, taking part in something so cool and admirable.  But I digress.

The only disappointing point in this whole running thing I’m doing is that I’m not really any skinnier or hotter than when I started.  Wouldn’t you think that you’d be totally hot if you were in shape enough to run more than 10 miles?  I think my legs are a bit more solid and firm – my calves for sure.  A lot of the people I run with have found that they can eat whatever they want and drink a ton of beer as long as they consistently run a few times a week.  This has not been the case for me.  But I can say that I have a lot more energy and I’m a lot more willing to go out during bad weather – I started training in the snowy winter and, for some reason, it’s really made me tougher.  The cold doesn’t bother me as much as it used to – but ask this Florida girl if she still feels that way next winter.

The point of this posting is to ask you a question.  Do you care at all about running and fitness-ish stuff?  I’m not by any means someone who is “into” fitness, but I sort of started to blog about this kind of stuff in a different space last August, which is when I made the decision that it was time to start exercising.  It helped me to keep a kind of log of my efforts and see how often I was actually exercising – and then go back and see if I was making any progress.

If I started a blog about trying to get in shape, would you read it?  More than that, would you want to contribute to it?

I seem to know a lot of people who are trying to motivate to start exercising – and it seems like hearing from different people, different levels of effort, and different stories might be fun to read.  It’d be a chance to learn from other people’s successes and failures.  Or ust read and make fun of us!  I’m thinking I’d start a group blog and give whoever would like to participate a  password, etc. – and each person could post something once a week or so.  You could even post video diaries if that would be easier than writing out your thoughts.

What do you think?


Hard Core.

5 01 2008

So Clay and Roz say I’m hard core because I bled through my shoe during this morning’s 7 mile run and didn’t even notice it until after brunch. I say my standards of hygiene and self-care must be dramatically lower than I thought. The weird part is, I can’t figure out what caused the bleeding or where it came from – Chuck has a theory, but I’ll spare you the gruesome details. I won’t, however, spare you the gruesome photo documentation of my hard core-ness. I’m too proud!


Best Day Ever.

24 12 2007

So this has got to be the best day ever. After getting a great night’s sleep in my very own bed, I woke up and ran 6 whole miles without stopping! Woo hoo! Then I showered, got dressed, and headed down to Ultimate Results to redeem my gift certificate for a one hour massage [Adam is obviously a fantastic Hanukkah gift giver]…and let me tell you – on top of being realllly interesting, my new Iraqi friend Ahmed is a fantastic massager! Next, I headed over to my favorite Starbucks to spend what I assumed was the last of the cash on my Starbucks gift card [my mom totally hooked me up for Hanukkah] – but NO! My favorite barista heard me order and told the guy on the cash register that my tall-vanilla-with-whip-chai was on the house! She said “Happy Festivus!” and gave me a free drink!

There are two morals of this story: 1 – I have great a family that picks out awesome gifts that I love, and 2 – It is GREAT to be a Jew on Christmas.

Can You Say Va-jay-jay on a Family Blog?

7 08 2007

Adam and I disagree. I answer this question with a yes. Adam, however, thinks the more appropriate term is moneymaker.

And how, you ask, did the topic of anatomical terms on the blog come to be? Well, yesterday, I attended a spinning class. Worst. Idea. Ever. I wanted to quit about 10 seconds into it, but I was too proud to do so. Unimaginable, I know. Other than the obvious sweating and moving that was involved, the absolute worst part of it all was the bicycle seat. About two seconds into the class and I was a) trying to come up with a reason why a sane person would ever partake of this activity, b) mustering a ton of sympathy for Lance Armstrong, and c) wondering how men can go to spinning classes and still maintain a healthy enough sperm count to reproduce. By minute 3, I’m asking my fellow classmates how the seemingly granite bike seat was not affecting them – to which they responded by showing off their nifty padded shorts and padded seat covers…which leads me to the reason I now think cycling is idiotic: Forget the burn in the quads and the ache of one’s back from leaning over the low handlebars – why on earth does Schwinn even make a bike seat so hard that you have to sit on two layers just to ride one for 45 minutes?

I know – who is this person who is attempting exercise and what have you done with Sandy? That’s a whole topic in itself. I’m trying to exercise, and that’s really about it. But cycling you ask? Well, that was an accident. I tried to go to a jump roping class at the YMCA, but the instructor dude bailed and spinning was getting ready to start next door…so I jumped on a bike and gave it a try. NEVER again. Biking’s for suckers.