Showing posts with label Bobby Flay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bobby Flay. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Skipping, Stairs, Snake Charmers (Runs 37 & 38)

I skipped run 37 yesterday (a scheduled 40-minute hill run). I am not giving up on running and training, rather, I have had a general "over it" attitude about everything of late, so my pouty attitude + really hot weather = sitting on the couch watching Olympic Trials and "Throwdown" with Bobby Flay instead of running. This lame attitude got me nowhere, but I did get to watch Mr. Phelps (aka Aquaman) break another world record (which was previously held by him), and I learned that coconut cake is primarily made of butter (literally pounds of it) and heavy cream--no wonder it tastes so good.

Anyhow, as my previous post mentioned, watching Olympic athletes (particularly swimmers and runners with their ridiculously low body fat percentages--google 40-year-old Olympic hopeful Dana Torres) is both motivating and disheartening, so this morning I did my 30 minute run (I actually ran 35), but I threw in three sets of stairs at the MAC (Metropolitan Museum of Arts, I believe--the museum in Browne's Addition). Each set of stairs included 6 or 7 flights (I couldn't get an accurate count, as my breath started to run out at the top of each flight). I am going to run twice tomorrow (at least that's the plan) to make sure I maintain the right mileage for my training schedule.

Finally...I try to run early in the morning. It's gotten quite hot in Spokane, so night runs are out of the question unless I want to run around midnight. Usually the only people I see are other runners and people walking their dogs. This morning, in addition to those two categories of people, I also saw a man wearing what appeared to be a red bathrobe--not the kind that ties at the waist, but the kind that my mom used to wear in the early-1980's, that slips over your head and has a zipper that comes down to your chest. The man was walking west on Pacific and playing what appeared to be a recorder, you know the instrument everyone learns in third grade music class? He looked like he was attending an Arabian Nights-type costume party dressed as a snake charmer. I was tempted to run by to get a closer look, but I decided against it.