freudian sleep-in

I went to bed on Thursday night, sleeping the sleep of the just. I was full of virtuous intent, of big dreams of waking up at 5:30 to go for a long run. In fact, I was pretty sure I had set the alarm.

When I woke up, it was almost 7, and I was pretty late for work, let alone for a run.

How did this happen? I think some level of my consciousness, not buried too deeply, didn’t want me to run and sabotaged my wake-up-early plan.

It was probably for the best, my legs were still sore from the stupid speed session I did at Thursday lunch-time. That wasn’t all that much fun.

What was so hard? Well, we just did 2 fast laps of the Fitzroy Gardens (7:08 and 7:24 were my times), followed by a bunch of full-on sprints up hill and some back and forth stuff. I am so slow, and so out of shape for this sort of stuff.

Ah well, whatever doesnt’ kill me, and all that jazz.

Running
The speed session on Thursday, and 13 point something ks on Friday night.

World Cup
I watched my first game last night – France vs Uruguay. To be accurate, I watched bits of it, slumped on the couch, drifting in and out of consciousness. I didn’t see any goals, but that’s probably because there weren’t any.

How annoying are the vuvuzela? (sp?) It sounds like they’re playing in the middle of the world’s largest bee hive. I think I’m going to have to watch the games with the sound off.

two sleepless nights

Two sleepless nights and I’m an inarticulate, blubbering mess. There’s not too much change there, you might say, and you’d be right, but at least I can tell.

I wasn’t much use at work today. I’d start to explain something or make a point and then completely forget what it was I was saying…. v. embarassing.

On the plus side, god – or rather, babies – willing, sleep is only an hour away. Blessed sleep.

the death shuffle and more rudeness

The death shuffle, if you’ve yet to encounter it, is the sort of running you do just before you fall over or pass out. You’re well and truly out of glycogen and your brain has long since left planet earth. The only thing that keeps you going is muscle memory, momentum and the fact that the finish line is a long way off.

That’s the death shuffle, and it ain’t pretty. You can spot a death-shuffler by the glazed look in the eye, stride length of around 10cm or less and tendency to bump into things that aren’t there.

I’ve done a bit of death shuffling in my time, most notably in my first attempt at a full marathon in 2005. That entire stretch between Fitzroy Street and the Shrine was a bit of a blur.

Thankfully, last night had nothing like that. I did 26km and, while it may not have been super-fast, it felt good. I even finished strongly, running the last couple of ks at 15kph plus.

Rudeness
One of the things that bothered me about yesterday’s pool incident was that the guy wasn’t young. He was 60 if he was a day, and should definitely know better. A few minutes later, still in ear-shot, he said:

“I hate summer. I hate global warning. I hate mankind but I love women“

It looks pretty bad written down, but it sounded worse.

It reminded me of another incident about 12 months ago. I was taking the bub out for a walk in the pram, when we came across an elderly woman who was making clucking noises in our direction.

Normally that’s a good thing. New dads think their kids are the cleverest, best looking things ever and we like to have that confirmed by strangers. This woman, however, was completely out of her tree.

She agreed with me that he was lovely, and looked like me, but then went on to ask if I would adopt him out. I was a bit taken back, as you would be, but she appeared to be serious, so I just said “no thanks” and left, sharp-ish.

What is it with old people these days? They have no respect.

No sleep
I finished the run last night about 9pm. After showering, drinking and forcing some food down a reluctant gullet, it was time for bed. But could I sleep? God no. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours, feeling like someone had plugged me into the mains.

There’s a reason people do their long runs in the morning.

stop being tired

The internet is a wonderful thing – it gives us access to all the loony theories of the world and helps while away the dreary afternoons in which we would otherwise have to work.

Two examples:

Andrew Bolt
Not strictly an internet thing, but it’s on the Herald Sun website so I’ll let it through. This is Master Bolt’s piece describing Sophie Monk’s nude photo shoot:

She looks simply delicious, and makes me salivate for a beef curry.

Now, I know he’s trying to be funny, but the idea that he wants to eat Sophie Monk is just plain wierd, even for a right-wing nut-job propogandist.

I’m not even going to get into his companion piece on the great debate, in which he describes the Nine network as “left-leaning”.

Really? That would explain why Peter Hitchener keeps interrupting news stories to sing a quick verse of the Internationale.

You can sleep less
As a parent of a young child, this is dear to my heart. Apparently, my troubles with feeling tired, grumpy and exhausted are actually because I sleep too much.

That makes sense.

Now, when you think about it, it all makes sense. If it wouldn’t be for tiredness, we wouldn’t need sleep. We could just stay awake for the whole 24 hours each day. Tiredness is preventing us from doing that.
Source: stopbeingtired.com

Right. So, I would need less sleep if only I could manage to be less tired. Of course, why didn’t I think of that?

And how do I get less tired? The answers are all in one convenient “end tiredness program”, only $37 US.

Brilliant. Where do I sign?

Update
Yesterday I mentioned a poor tase headline from Crikey.com.au about Crazy John Ilhan. Today I’ve found something even blacker, from the Onion:

Lethal Injection Ban Leads To Rise In Back-Alley Lethal Injections

TALLAHASSEE,FL—”If governors can’t execute prisoners legally in prisons, they’re going to turn elsewhere for the procedure,” said Dr. Daniel Blecker.

.onion_embed {background: rgb(256, 256, 256) !important;border: 4px solid rgb(65, 160, 65);border-width: 4px 0 1px 0;margin: 10px 30px !important;padding: 5px;overflow: hidden !important;zoom: 1;}.onion_embed img {border: 0 !important;}.onion_embed a {display: inline;}.onion_embed a.img {float: left !important;margin: 0 5px 0 0 !important;width: 66px;display: block;overflow: hidden !important;}.onion_embed a.img img {border: 1px solid #222 !important;;width: 64px;;padding: 0 !important;;}.onion_embed h2 {line-height: 2px;;clear: none;;margin: 0 !important;padding: 0 !important;}.onion_embed h3 {line-height: 16px;font: bold 16px arial, sans-serif !important;margin: 3px 0 0 0 !important;padding: 0 !important;}.onion_embed h3 a {line-height: 16px !important;;color: rgb(0, 51, 102) !important;font: bold 16px arial, sans-serif !important;text-decoration: none !important;display: inline !important;;float: none !important;;text-transform: capitalize !important;}.onion_embed h3 a:hover {text-decoration: underline !important;color: rgb(204, 51, 51) !important;}.onion_embed p {color: #000 !important;;font: normal 11px/ 11px arial, sans-serif !important;;margin: 2px 0 0 0 !important;;padding: 0 !important;}.onion_embed a {display: inline !important;;float: none !important;}
At least that’s supposed to be funny.

iphones and sleep

This story is a bit sad eh? ….

Greg Packer, the first man in line at Apple’s flagship store in New York is now the proud owner of a 4GB iPhone. But because he hasn’t signed up to a plan, the phone lies dormant.

Packer, who we interviewed last week shortly after he began his 109-hour vigil outside the iconic Fifth Avenue Apple Store, turns out to be something of a professional line sitter.

According to reports, the retired highway maintenance worker has been widely quoted over the years as a member of the public in articles and television broadcasts stretching back to 1995.

Packer was reportedly the first in line when the viewing platform at ground zero at the World Trade Centre opened in 2001; he was at the front of the queue to sign a condolence book at the British consulate after Princess Diana’s death 10 years ago and he was again at the head of the queue in January 2001 at the inauguration of US President George Bush.

Although Packer wasn’t able to tell us how the phone worked, he did say the experience of being first in line was like being a celebrity – “like Bono” – in a crowd. “It was like being a god,” he said in a telephone interview.

Packer said he had been offered “envelopes of money” to give up his poll position but resisted the temptation. “I didn’t want envelopes,” he said. “I wanted a briefcase.”

From the age online.

I don’t mean to judge an entire group of people on just that one guy, but don’t you think Apple devotees are just the teensiest bit irritating? I know that’s heresy, and that right now there will be people angrily throwing their white, designer ipods, their white designer imacs and their white designer iphones at their white designer iwalls, but really don’t you think you should just chill out?

The guys who write South Park got it spot on when they renamed the Toyota Prius the Toyota “Pious”. Apple geeks are pretty much the same. Yes – I know Microsoft sucks. Yes, Apple are probably much better machines/software. Frankly I don’t care. All this talk about i-this and i-that: it just makes my eyes glaze over. And that stupid “Mac guy” makes me want to punch someone. Preferably him, but anyone will do.

Running
I trotted around Croydon and surrounds last night; just my usual 12k run up and down hills.

Since the marathon – which, funnily enough, coincided with the onset of full-strength, undiluted winter – I’ve switched from super-early morning runs to lunch and evening runs.

I’m going to have to ease up on the before bed-time runs though. I find I drop into bed and then lie there, wide awake, for hours. It’s all the adrenaline/dopamine running through the system. It doesn’t aid sleep.

If and when I actually get the chance to sleep, I NEEEEEEED to take it with both hands, so to speak. I’d quite happily give you all the money I have (not much) just don’t take my sleep.

pasta pasta pasta

This is the last post before the marathon on Sunday (see the Sri Chinmoy site). Think of me while you’re lounging about in bed, or whatever it is you do on Sunday mornings. I gather there are a few people coming from the Ausrun/Coolrunning forums (fora??) so I may be able to put a few faces to names and blogs.

If you’re there, say hello. I’ll be wearing the same black singlet as the picture on my profile on the right, but black shorts.

I anticipate posting a race report on Monday, here and probably on Ausrun.

Pain in the English.com
I ran into a spot of bother before working out the plural of “forum”. The plural of “medium” is “media”, so shouldn’t the plural of forum be “fora”? I thought so, but didn’t want to run the risk of appearing a complete berk, so did a quick google.

The aforementioned googling led me to this site – Pain in the English.com – who’s subtitle is “because meaning is fundamentally indeterminate”. With an introduction like that, is it any wonder the people who post are a little, er, eccentric? They had a discussion about “Fora vs Forums”, which seems to have produced a lot of debate and disagreement, but nothing concrete.

Read it if you like, but the general gist seems to be “fora” is more correct, but you’ll sound like a wanker if you use it.

Running
A very easy toodle around the streets of Mooroolbark last night was the last thing even vaguely approaching a training run before the race. It was about 6k all up, but I was really just watching the clock; keeping it to around 30 minutes.

I tacked on a few strides at the end.

Again, it all felt good and positive, aside from a slight stitch from running too soon after dinner.

Dinner
Dinner last night was pasta. Tonight will be pasta. Tomorrow night will be, wait for it, pasta. I generally quite like pasta, but you can have too much of a good thing, I’m afraid. In retrospect, eating gnocchi on Tuesday night was perhaps a bit ill-advised. I’m hanging out for a steak.

Rest
Sleep is a bit of an issue at the moment. “a bit” is something of an understatement. Try “all-encompassing obsession”.

Looking back on it, pretty much my entire training for this marathon has been affected by lack of sleep. I wonder how much of an affect this will have on the day.

I don’t anticipate getting much sleep on Saturday night due to nerves, so the pressure is on to get a good rest tonight.

Right now: cross your fingers and keep-em crossed until about noon Sunday.

wracked with guilt

Yes, I’ve been wracked with guilt this morning, after realising it’s been, erm, 3 days since I last posted. Not the normal Jruns service you’ve naturally come to expect around here. I apologise from the bottom of the cockles of my heart, to paraphrase Dennis Leary.

In my defence, I do have an excuse of sorts – lack of sleep got to chronic, no that’s not the right word, extreme proportions. I can do 100k training weeks okay, I can do lack of sleep at a pinch, I can do full-time work, but put them all together and something has to give. In this case, it was blogging. Also, reading other people’s blogs.

Running
In the meantime I have done some running – 13k with hill reps on Thursday, and 8k plus some strides today. Tomorrow I’ve mapped out a big-un. I think it’s around 38k, but don’t tell the missus. There are options to cut down the distance, depending how things are going. But I do want a fairly long one.

can you buy endorphins?

Em over at Running all over the place has a special place on this blog. It’s over on the right and down a bit. She even merited a mention in the body of my post yesterday. Now, I don’t like to be seen to be criticising one of my blogging colleagues, but her post yesterday comes under the category of “cruel mockery”.

I felt so great after yesterday’s run, it was a great session and I was still buzzing today. Now if only I could figure out to bottle that I’d never have to work again 🙂

The post title is can you sell endorphins?

Yairs, well. If she’s selling, I’m buying.

This morning’s run was almost totally lacking in endorphins, or any other type of phins. It was a miserable experience, to tell the truth.

It was 12k, with the last 4k at a “steady” pace. I fell over the doorstep after an hour of dragging my sorry behind around the streets. Note the use of the words “fell”, “dragging” and “sorry behind”. I hope my choice of words gives you a hint of how I was feeling. I do try to use the mot juste wherever possible.

Anyway, I got home from my run and just felt like death. Not death-warmed-over. I didn’t have the energy for warming anything. Just death. And the worst thing was I have a very full day at work today. Great.

Am I sick? Nah, just tired. The smallest member of our house was a bit vocal last night. Very vocal.

Gosh I need some sleep.