4'51.69"

As of Monday 4/14/2009, that is how fast I can run a mile. Running is not something I like to do, but I guess it is something I am good at. It is boring! (Especially distance running. BLEEEH!!!) I do it anyway, because it keeps my mind focused and body healthy. It is part of a promise I made to myself upon purchasing a motorcycle last year ... to stay mentally and physically healthy. This blog ain't about the motorcycle. (Sorry, that is an entirely different blog.)

I made my all-time record mile at 4'33" in Jr. High. I remember that day really well. It was first "period" (aka the first class....what a nasty pun for adolescents eh?). The sky was mostly clear with small patches of clouds, and the animals in the San Diego Zoo were unusually quiet (my jr. high was right next door). All of the surfaces, including the sand were damp from the high humidity the night before. The air was hella cold at around 54F, and I had my t-shirt and shorts on. Needless to say, I was eager to skip the morning stretch and start running like hell. I wore a reebok hightop basketball shoe that kept my ankles comfortably warm. My shorts stretched down to my knee because that was the style at my jr. high....everyone looked like a gangster.

***WARNING: the following paragraphs are unnaturally graphic***

I still had asthma from working with an indoor chain-smoker over the summer, but luckily I had plenty of aerobic exercise outside of work. This was somewhat of a blessing in disguise because I learned to manage my breathing in order to run the way I did. However, I must say that anyone can get better results from physical work by paying a little attention to improving breathing ... (this is NOT a promotion of cigarette smoking, not even second-hand).

At the end of the jog, I my vision was completely white with stars; and I can not put in words, how difficult every breath was to take. I made sure to stick around someone's field of vision, so that someone would see me if I blacked-out, or choked on my on own puke .... oh yes, I felt like puking my brains out after the mile run. I remember waiting for someone to finish running and following them to the water fountain (again, making sure someone was around if I blacked out or choked). As soon as I leaned over to wash out the phlem buildup in my mouth, I started to gag from vomiting. More stars. Nothing but a little stomach acid came up because I didn't have breakfast that morning. The longer I gaged, the more stars popped up. At this point, I had my whole weight on the water fountain. Someone smacked my back as I was having convulsions over a water fountain...my hearing returned, and I heard the guy say, "Do you need to see the school nurse dude? You look all white." My esophagus was too busy returning air to my lungs to allow my voice box to work, but traces of my vision returned. So I shook my head "No" and kneeled over the filthy ground allowing gravity to drain the phelm out of my mouth (and by now, nose) and away from my breathing passage. (still think smoking is a good idea?)

Nowadays, I only run at night when the air is cool and more damp, because it helps my breathing. Also, there are fewer distractions like traffic or female joggers/cyclists. ^^ (I don't mind them, but they make it hard for me to focus on running a faster mile ... yeah puns are fun.) I have an excel file that keeps track of the conditions during the jog (things that affect the jog results: everything from my outfit to the celestial bodies). Traces of asthma from that chain-smoker's summer still creep up at the end of tough jogs, cycling, and swimming.

If I improve by 2 seconds every week, I will be well within beating my 4'33" mile record before the year is up. Getting closer to that mark will be PAINFUL.

HER DIARY:

Tonight, I thought my husband was acting weird . We had made plans to meet at a bar to have a drink. I was shopping with my friends all day long, so I thought he was upset at the fact that I was a bit late, but he made no comment on it.

Conversation wasn't flowing, so I suggested that we go somewhere quiet so we could talk. He agreed, but he didn't say much. I asked him what was wrong. He said, 'Nothing.' I asked him if it was my fault that he was upset. He said he wasn't upset, that it had nothing to do with me, and not to worry about it.

On the way home, I told him that I loved him. He smiled slightly, and kept driving. I can't explain his behavior. I don't know why he didn't say,
'I love you, too.' When we got home, I felt as if I had lost him completely, as if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. He just sat there quietly,
and watched TV. He continued to seem distant and absent.

Finally, with silence all around us, I decided to go to bed. About 15 minutes later, he came to bed. To my surprise, he responded to my caress, and we made love. But I still felt that he was distracted, and his thoughts were somewhere else. He fell asleep --I cried. I don't know what to do. I'm almost sure that his thoughts are with someone else. My life is a disaster.



HIS DIARY:
My Bike wouldn't start today, at least I got laid.