After my last crabby post, it strikes me that what actually annoys me slightly about yoga, and Zumba, and (also! sorry I'm not sorry) pilates*, is that the poses or the steps or the equipment or the entire franchise gets trademarked and named. Because of course it wouldn't be possible to make any money off 'dancing', or 'stretching and strengthening' or 'cycling on a stationary bike', or off training instructors to do non trademarked versions of the above.
My beloved RAD (Royal Academy of Dance) Ballet is of course guilty of the same thing, as is its main 'competitor', the Vaganova school. Except it's a style of performance art, much like the difference between Impressionist painters and Surrealist ones. The difference has a purpose...
Anyway, away from all that. that's what I like about running. Running's running. It can be as no-nonsense as YOU want it to be. Shorts, shirt, shoes, out the door. Running's a broad church. There's no trademarking running. (Except sometimes I worry that one day, someone is going to come up with a trademarked, franchised 'running class' that takes place in a studio full of treadmills. I'll take Prancercise.)
*while in a contemporary dance group in college I took a lot of pilates matwork classes and was also annoyed by the New Age jargon, except there's less of it in pilates. Yoga and pilates would probably help about equally with stretching and stability, so I endure. Also, my mild annoyance at the trademarking of Zumba fitness classes doesn't mean I can't find them fun...
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In other news, my body is still revolting.
So the last time I ran...was on Sunday. This week and a half has been quite a change from six days a week.
Yesterday I was about to go for a very short run, but my knee hurt in a place that it has essentially never hurt before: the inside front of my left knee (that's the medial bit, right at the bend, worryingly near the medial meniscus for all you anatomy folks). So instead of running, I was so good. SO WELL-BEHAVED. I did 41.5 minutes on the bike trainer*. This morning, my right hip seizes up and sends spasms of pain shooting up and down my leg when I walk. My glutes and piriformis are punishing me for something I either did or didn't, except I have no idea what it is.
*41.5 minutes is the exact length of one CSI:NY episode, without ads.
Worse still, this morning I woke up feeling EVEN WORSE than I had the previous few days. The cough still hasn't gone away. Nor has the interesting neon green phlegm (sorry TMI). There's only one remedy for this: CALL MY MUM. Antibiotics, I can haz.
Things had better start looking up real quick: Perth is 6 weeks away now...
My immune system has taken an unexpected and VERY unauthorised vacation so I'm actually taking a rest this week. By which I mean 'not running', not 'calling in sick'. (Deadlines.) Honestly, I'm not really super sick - I just feel wheezy and fatigued and addled enough not to run. If I wasn't so obnoxiously healthy from regular fresh air and running, I think I'd be a lot more incapacitated than I am right now.
On Tuesday I was sore all over but couldn't tell if that was from my once-a-week strength routine or actually falling sick. So of course I went to track. On Wednesday night I did try to swim and made it about half a mile -- chlorine kills germs, right? And it's just a teeny tiny sore throat? That showed me on Thursday. Serves me right.
Anyway I have to think up ways to entertain myself and you while I languish on the sofa, so here goes. My life is average.
Things I do when I'm not running:
- Read
I'm currently very much liking Cheryl Strayed's 'Wild' (too long, didn't read? woman loses her mother, family falls apart, marriage falls apart, decides to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. Bonus: Strayed is not her original birth name, in case you were wondering.) Tom Rachman's 'The Imperfectionists' about a dysfunctional newsroom in Rome made me twitch, it hit so close to home. Also looking forward to reading Chimamanda Adichie's 'The Thing Around Your Neck' (short stories).
The other day at track a teammate said, you must be tired of reading because you have to read and write so much for work. What? No - I chose this job because I like it. Never trust a journalist who doesn't read. It's not a vacation until I'm on the plane with my Economist and my Cosmo at the same time.
- Invent new slushy flavours in my pocket-sized miniature blender. Seriously. Thing has about a two-cup capacity. It's cute. Watermelon and blueberry, anyone? How about some dragonfruit, fragrant pear, and honey? Were you wondering how rambutans would fare when frozen? Strangely Mr GCA tends to decline my more interesting experiments. I have no idea why...
- Listen to music. I've already written about my undying love for fun. One of the highlights of my life was watching Nine Inch Nails live on Trent Reznor's "final" tour. He lied though and Came Back Haunted:
And then made up for it by giving us the definitive list of NIN singles.
Another one was watching Metric live. It cost me $80 (but what to do, I've liked them since 2003). Singapore is one of the most terrifyingly expensive places in the world to be a live music fan. Something to do with schlepping all of your gear and your roadies around Asia, whaddya know.
Other things I will pay good ca$h moneys to watch live include: Matthew Dear, MGMT whom I've also loved since they were a little baby band, Daft Punk with or without any of their collaborators, and Of Montreal.
Of COURSE none of these is any good as a running playlist (Matthew Dear and Daft Punk work but I also need me some Mika, Little Boots, and, quite unabashedly, the unholy trinity of Madonna, Britney Spears and Lady Gaga.)
- Work, kind of a frack-ton.
Or at least, think about work a lot even when I'm not doing it. I cover environment and science, so you'll also find me on Twitter talking to total strangers on the Internet about shale gas exploration in China, palm oil in Indonesia, and biodiversity, land use conflicts and transport planning in Singapore. I like what I do (except why is there so MUCH of it?).
Things I don't, at all, ever:
- Accept promo freebies for reviews
So in J-school they teach you a little thing called journalism ethics. Most inconveniently, this leaks over into my personal life, up to and including this blog - I'm pre-emptively stating site policy here before I ever (ha ha) develop a large enough readership to be worth sending free stuff. I promise you!! that I have paid/ will pay for everything I review on this blog. Sure, I've will gladly review races, running stores, shoes, tank tops, shorts...but you can be certain that's just my own opinion. I won't turn down a good sale, but if your company sends me free socks, I appreciate the notion very much but will send them right back.
- Snack. True, I eat all the time. When I'm hungry. What is this oddly American (? I may be wrong, correct me) obsession with having snacks on hand all the time in case of a sudden hunger attack? Especially on planes? (Sorry Holly. Er...I may or may not have been carrying the same squashed Soyjoy in my purse for three weeks.) Related to that, I tend not to take pictures of my food and certainly not Instagram them. Everyone and their sister has seen oatmeal before regardless of whether it's made with Greek yoghurt and chia seeds or not. I am a product of a time B.D.C (Before Digital Cameras) and still do not think most of my food is spectacular enough to warrant wasting film (or phone battery) on. Unless it's a GC experiment. Then I have to document it as evidence in case someone gets food poisoning.
- Do yoga (I have tried. It never took. Your mileage may vary, I have nothing against people who do like yoga.) I do stretch and am very stretchy and enjoy stretching. It's the people saying things like 'today we are going to do this with Intention' to me while I try to have a good stretch, that I don't much like.
- take ice baths (bathtub? what bathtub), watch TV (except Community and Archer, but I have the attention span of a gerbil...it's just not a huge priority in my life)...
...or sleep enough, apparently. (She said, before passing out.)
