1) I don't really ever run in the rain these days.
2) I'd rather be on the trails than on the roads.
3) For now, moving slower feels better than moving faster.
Regarding number one, I suppose this is that I'm not really "training" for anything in particular, so there's no real drive to force myself into anything uncomfortable. I've been enjoying being an animal and moving around, and doing things for the sake of enjoyment. I couldn't resist getting out for 90 minutes on Saturday and then almost 2 hours yesterday. Crisp, golden fall weather, perfect for making (more like attempting, but I'm getting the hang of it) some agile movements up and down the hills of Rock Creek. I paid for it today with a bit of sluggishness but that didn't stop me from basking in the afternoon sun yet again for an hour on the Capital Crescent Trail during lunch today.
Aside: I don't buy that an ancestral interpretation of wellness should be strictly limited to the extremes of intensity, when it comes to exercise (i.e. sprinting vs. walking). Sure, intense exercise is stressful. But the more I think about it, I can't fathom that our ancestors didn't periodically venture across diverse landscapes at an arduous (read, tempo, for you runners) pace. Have you ever tried to climb a moderate hill at elevation with 80 pounds of weight (a conservative number, in my mind, considering the weight of most ruminant carcasses) on your back? That's not light exercise. That's effing work.
Regarding number three, I've been toying around with something I'm calling "low heart rate training." I certainly didn't coin the term; seems like the general concept has been floating around the interwebs for some time. I'm no zealot for the topic, but it feels right for now, mostly because it feels less stressful (during a time of high work stress) and provokes a more meditative state than higher intensity work. I don't cover much ground, but I feel unstoppable over long durations (2 hrs +) without having to worry about stuffing my face with crappy chemical "fuel."
Number two? Combination of positives and negatives. On one hand, Rock Creek is such a beautiful refuge from the urban cacophony that it's hard to resist. On the other, I move so slowly that I'm slightly uncomfortable waddling along public sidewalks, in plain view. Plus, doesn't the crunch of leaves and scent of wet earth just appeal to your animal senses?
2) I'd rather be on the trails than on the roads.
3) For now, moving slower feels better than moving faster.
Regarding number one, I suppose this is that I'm not really "training" for anything in particular, so there's no real drive to force myself into anything uncomfortable. I've been enjoying being an animal and moving around, and doing things for the sake of enjoyment. I couldn't resist getting out for 90 minutes on Saturday and then almost 2 hours yesterday. Crisp, golden fall weather, perfect for making (more like attempting, but I'm getting the hang of it) some agile movements up and down the hills of Rock Creek. I paid for it today with a bit of sluggishness but that didn't stop me from basking in the afternoon sun yet again for an hour on the Capital Crescent Trail during lunch today.
Aside: I don't buy that an ancestral interpretation of wellness should be strictly limited to the extremes of intensity, when it comes to exercise (i.e. sprinting vs. walking). Sure, intense exercise is stressful. But the more I think about it, I can't fathom that our ancestors didn't periodically venture across diverse landscapes at an arduous (read, tempo, for you runners) pace. Have you ever tried to climb a moderate hill at elevation with 80 pounds of weight (a conservative number, in my mind, considering the weight of most ruminant carcasses) on your back? That's not light exercise. That's effing work.
Regarding number three, I've been toying around with something I'm calling "low heart rate training." I certainly didn't coin the term; seems like the general concept has been floating around the interwebs for some time. I'm no zealot for the topic, but it feels right for now, mostly because it feels less stressful (during a time of high work stress) and provokes a more meditative state than higher intensity work. I don't cover much ground, but I feel unstoppable over long durations (2 hrs +) without having to worry about stuffing my face with crappy chemical "fuel."
Number two? Combination of positives and negatives. On one hand, Rock Creek is such a beautiful refuge from the urban cacophony that it's hard to resist. On the other, I move so slowly that I'm slightly uncomfortable waddling along public sidewalks, in plain view. Plus, doesn't the crunch of leaves and scent of wet earth just appeal to your animal senses?
