Trying to Keep Fit

Cole Field Housed

It was abnormally warm last week like someone was messing with the weather machine, and I was all fired up to play some ultimate. I was ready to get on the road and climb my way back to game shape. Since I have no classes until the end of this month, I figured I'd go 2-a-day workouts to jump start my body back to life. So, I added my indoor running workouts this week for the first time since I tore up my shoulder. This has been more frustrating than my busted ankle the previous year. I never realized how much arm motion is involved when I'm running - no, I'm not talking about arms wildly flailing while running. They just recently replaced the old basketball court in Cole Field House with astro-turf, so you can actually run down the stairs and up across.

Feeling particularly inspired yesterday, I was running pretty hard and doing some plyometrics on the stairs. After 45 minutes, it was painfully obvious that my endurance was quickly falling behind my enthusiasm. I hadn't really taken any breaks besides drinking water. Finally, the last set of stairs and I'm done! My head started to hurt a little, but not as much as my heart. I was determined to finish dammit! Visions of me as a kid flashed through my mind - I'm not eating dinner until I snap in the last piece of my Lego Mechwarrior. On my last sprint across the astro-turf I was just feeling plain nauseous, and my legs were giving out. By the time I reached the steps across to go up, tetany had set in all the muscles in my legs. At that moment, there was a feeling of slight panic as the realization of inevitable chunder sets in. I manage to fumble my way up to about the 6th or 7th row before I ducked down and emptied all the water that I had drank the last hour. I was still feeling awful, and I couldn't stand up - gelatinous legs. It's a good thing the only other person there was on the far side on the concourse. In my state of semi-awareness, I thought about how Chuck Norris never gave up even when his truck was entombed in a dirtpit in Lone Wolf McQuaid. He totally busted outta there in his supercharged truck. Anyway, I made it back to the concourse level restroom, and had all my stuff on the Koala Care baby changing station. It was an anchor. Any movement then made me feel even worse, and the fetid air coming from the old heating system didn't help. The bathroom stalls were only about twenty feet from me, but there's a freshly lined 30-gallon trash can sitting next to me. So, I proceeded to empty the contents from my stomach into the closer receptacle. I opened a window to get a blast of cold air and I felt well enough to finish a cool down lap then stretched.

The kicker though was on my way back home from the Metro station. It's rush hour, the sidewalks are busy, and I'm hugging the fence on my side as I walk. My head was kinda down cuz it was really windy and cold- I needed to turtle-down. As soon as a baby stroller entered my field of vision, I slowed down. But, the lady kept on trucking right into my fucking shin - there's still a bruise there - backed up and continued like nothing ever happened. What's up with that!? I wish I could just flip out all Hulk style sometimes. I'm glad I had the motivation to prepare some kickass soup before work yesterday.