Need for Speed(o) VII: Dénouement

Since we're 4 days and a full mindset past this august event, I'll keep my reflections brief.

(Ha! again.)


1) People who run can drink a lot. I've never seen so many folks slugging back Long Island Teas at 11 a.m. while at the same time exposing 98 percent of their completely ripped physiques:

Gives credence to the twin adages that alcohol contains performance-inducing carbohydrates and that I'm not the only one who runs primarily to eat and drink whatever I want.


2) A lot of folks I know read Boston.com. And wanted to know about this race. Because a lot of folks I know directed me to this link as early as late Saturday afternoon:

It pays to make friends with the Globe photographer, because a professional wouldn't put a bad picture in his paper.


3) The cold really was more tolerable than you might expect. With the wind chill the air felt like about 5°F.

But a scarf and arm warmers helped. A shot of Grey Goose did, too. It also helped, once on Boylston and huddled in a clump like so much cattle, we jumped up and down en masse for 10+ minutes screaming "Spee-DO! Spee-DO! Spee-DO!"

Even if it caused wicked-cramped calf muscles and endless armpit views like this:

I mean, I shaved.....but hey.

4) Sometimes naked flesh is sexy. Sometimes not. From the middle of the pack, this was my view for most of the run.

Proves that even folks with chutzpah and defined abs are human in their underwear.

Need for Speed(o) VI: Proof

Yup.

Tales to follow.

Nerve

While walking through the Back Bay this morning, sun beaming, wind howling up Boylston Street and straight through my knee-length fuzzy-hooded parka and into the depths of my pancreatic region, I could only think (and, begging your pardon for invoking the colloquial cliché) that it was cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey.

And that was while wearing a down parka.

I don't think I'm ready for this cold. Particularly because boston.com gave today's weather forecast as this:

Friday, Dec 11 Windy and colder
32°F 21°F

Then, they say tomorrow looks like this:

Saturday, Dec 12 Partly sunny; breezy
36°F 26°F

See that Friday notation of 32°F for a high? See my comment about the brass monkey?

That doesn't give me a lot of faith in the improvement to 36°F. Nor does the important omission on Saturday of the word "warmer" after "breezy."

Oy. You may think, next, that I'm going to whine, now, about the whole swimsuit bare-tush jog up the same street tomorrow, and that I've lost my nerve.

Hell no. Bring it on.

(But I am going to go shopping for leg warmers after work.)

Need for Speed(o) V: Oy.

So campers, mea culpa:

I did indeed buy a swimsuit that will cover my stomach

(figuring that--despite my vow to eschew carbs for the next 5 days and do nothing in my spare time but push-ups and planks--exposed winter-white glutes will be humbling enough).

Today I was walking to the bus dressed in sweater, long skirt, knee-high boots, wool coat, hat and gloves ..... and felt a bit chilly. I then realized that in this whole equation, the second thing I forgot to factor in (after realizing I'd actually have to buy a swimming suit, evidently) was that it could possibly be really, really cold next Saturday....

... like the windy and high-of-32 that Boston.com is forecasting.

I don't know about you, but I'm getting wicked excited. Wicked.

Need for Speed(o) IV: Distressed Garment(s)

You know how some days you just got nothin'?

Today, I got nothin'.

The adjective to best describe current state: Drained.

(Like the stack of turkey-leftover soup pots in my kitchen sink are not.)

That said, it occurred to me with all this talk of squats and lunges and abdominal discipline and fundraising to get ready for the Santa Speedo Run, I have many times intimated what it was I was planning to wear. However, I really have no idea what I'm going to wear. All I know is:

1) It needs to be cherry red.
2) It needs to be runnable.
3) It needs to be mildly tasteful.
4) It needs to smack of heedless Christmas cheer.

(What the hell? This is going to be more of a challenge than sucking in my stomach.)

I went down the street a few days ago to my favorite running attire store, City Sports, for inspiration and discovered that they have everything in pink and nothing in red. Meaning my inspiration has been curbed ..... and, being Drained and all, the thought of a massive www search is beyond me today.

Are any of y'all willing to pass on suggestions that meet my criteria?

You are not alone....*

Last night I was at the gym, natch, because that is where I plan to be for the next 12 days in light of the great Santa Speedo Run unveiling. While attending to business on the Stairmaster, I was also reading the November issue of SELF magazine, primarily because of the tempting headline:

Sculpt Sexy Curves (Look Like You Lost 5 Pounds!): The 7 New Moves for Incredible Abs, Show-off Shoulders, Lean Legs and More!

It was only secondarily that I noticed a sub headline:

SEX SPECIAL: Flirting, Fantasies & Facebook. What Women Are REALLY Doing Online.

Since I spent substantially more time this weekend flirting online than I did on working on lean legs and since I, on the Stairmaster, was already working on my lean legs, I immediately flipped there ("Click Here For a Good Time") for affirmation of my extracurricular activities.

"Sexting. Emailing a naked photo. Flirting on Facebook. In a groundbreaking survey, SELF polled more than 1,100 women ranging in age from 18 to 50-plus to see how the Internet is changing the way we're mating, dating and relating. The results are now in, and the overwhelming response to whether women are pursuing virtual action is "Oh, God, yesss!"

Some of our surprising findings: Sixty percent of women say the Internet helps them explore their sensuality without embarrassment...."

Other things I learned from the article and the many sub-articles there-in:

* 61% of women surveyed have viewed porn on their computer
* 21% of 36-to-50-y-olds have used the web to find a real-life booty call
* 24% say they have "faked it" during cybersex
* 18% have stripped for a web cam

Just saying, y'all.

Not everyone has to agree with the practice. But can we admit that me and my IM proclivities are hardly out of the ordinary....?

*(.... one of my least favorite Michael Jackson videos, BTW, especially the part where he's naked in a pool wearing angel wings ....)

Chillaxin

So I was on Facebook a few moments ago to change my status update:

"Karin will be doing nothing this week. Nothing."

Three friends clicked on the "like" button for this.

I wish this status wasn't so nebulous. I do still have to go to work. I do still have to find a Christmas ticket to Minneapolis under $500. I do need to do 3 weeks-worth of laundry. I do have to kick the softness out of my running legs and abdominal muscles because I told everyone and my mother I plan to wear a Speedo in public in 19 days.

And there are a hundred other things I probably could do. Christmas letter. Christmas cookies. Volunteer on turkey day. Clean the dead impatiens off my patio. Buy a dresser. Put away the summer clothes. Vow to not talk online with any man under 30 because as I find time and time again .... and seem to never remember .... it all just circles back to what's in their pants.

Most importantly, I could probably learn to relax again.

That's probably a "should," actually. So I'll stop being so uptight about all of the rest.

Need for Speed(o) III: Abs of Evil.

Musical ramping up. Work ramping up. And despite the complete lack of a love life, it's been a hectic couple of weeks in Karin-land.

In the manner of an exercise addict, I have not forgotten the inevitable Speedo & Sports Bra & Bare Stomach & Bare Thighs look that I have committed to on Saturday, Dec. 12. Which means that despite the work chaos and rehearsal chaos and never, ever having a free evening between now and Thanksgiving, you'd better believe I am still making sure I get to the gym during the day. Even if a nap would be preferred.

So on Monday I ran 3.75 miles on my lunch hour. No sweat. (Literally, no sweat. It was cold out.)

On Tuesday, noticing that despite the run my midsection drooped gelatinously in a post-Halloween-candy way, I forewent cardio and instead attended this class at the gym:

Body Defined Strength training class that may feature a variety of equipment including free weights, bands or Body Bars. Balance work may also be included in the class. Instructor: Jakki.

On my gym's website, Jakki's bio states that she enjoys challenging participants with a safe but intense workout. "My favorite part of teaching isn’t the music or the exercises, it’s the smile I see when people leave class feeling better about themselves and more confident to take on a new challenge…maybe another class!”

What Jakki's bio didn't say: "I like to stride around the room when you're on the 13th minute of the 15-minute non-stop abdominal workout and shout out, 'I know what I'm asking you to do is evil. Who thinks I'm evil?! I don't hear you! Who thinks I'm evil! You will thank me later! You will!"

I have a propensity to eat candy and full loaves of Iggy's Cranberry Pecan Rolls in one sitting. And full boxes of Kashi Go Lean. It's possible there are parts of me that are not as firm as they could be.

Nonetheless, I consider myself to be relatively in-shape. (You know. That marathon and yoga thing, etc.)

Folks, if I'm going to make a habit of Body Defined, "relatively" will not cut it. After my Tuesday time with Jakki, the muscles of my torso hurt so badly two days later I cannot, literally, stand up straight, and the inner-thigh ache causes me to walk bow-legged as if I'm squeezing an exercise ball between my knees.

The overall effect is that I look and feel like a pecking hen. An old pecking hen, at that. Still deciding if I'll feel like smiling, if I'll feel more confident about myself, and if I feel like I ever want to take on a new challenge, ever again.

Onward! (she whispers)

Need for Speed(o) II: Wherest Willpower?

Last night after work, I ran up and down Commonwealth Avenue for 3 miles.

Then, when I got to rehearsal, I ate a bag of Skittles for supper. Washed down with 5 Dunkin' Donuts munchkins covered in orange and yellow sprinkles.

Thus, the dichotomy of the challenge in trying to prepare for the Great Speedo Exposé in 52 short days. I have the willpower to work out. I have enough experience in eating to know that 300 calories of square meal does not go directly to one's gut like a sugar-infused 300 does.

Further, I know there will be a dozen photographers waiting to chronicle the event on boston.com, much like this:

Yet, there will always be too many convenience stores in this town that sell candy.

Help.

Opportunities (update)

As my mother so often writes to open her 3,000-word e-mails, this entry will be "just a quickie."

Because I must go drink. A 5 p.m. beer with my manager and co-worker at the newest bar in the neighborhood: Post 390. Probably on my manager. Sweet.

(So, this beer replaces my planned 5-mile run .... um, oops. Probably not good for the Speedo Challenge. Although my soul is happy. Priorities, priorities.)

What's more, tonight after rehearsal I'll be heading to a downtown pub for C-2's all-night birthday celebration. Now, I know no one except for the host, but according to his Facebook Event RSVP list 54 guests have confirmed. Since C-2 works in liberal politics and is a rabid people-person, I assume I might find at least some of the other 53 revelers just as simpatico and talkative.

(So, hooray! A party! And new friends, maybe, in addition to more quality time with C-2, a new favorite FWABs. Sweet.)

Then, finally, I didn't ever give you the post-mortem on last week's Friday-night date. But it went well enough that I woke up the next morning smelling his aftershave on my cheek. Well enough that we spoke on the phone last night and he asked, "when will I see you again?" in the tone of someone who wants to see me again sooner than later, and he most likely will see me this Friday night, too.

(So, a new date #2. Even sweeter.)

Lots of opportunities. Updates to follow. Cheers.

Need for Speed(o): Inauguration Day

As OKC always comes through for me when this blog lacks spice .....

.... so I need to challenge my body to a duel when, once again, it foists on me the ability to inhale a full box of Kashi in one sitting (as was accomplished last night), inciting grave concerns that the waistband of my jeans won't keep up.

On December 12, I'm going to take part in this:

Probably wearing something like this (and, minds out of the gutter, something on top):

You might remember last winter's Bikini Challenge? Kind of want to get back there.

I have had fewer more successful motivational tools than the thought of y'all seeing my bare stomach. Believe me when I say the thought of y'all seeing it in perpetual motion should be far greater ....

Thusly, 10 weeks and 5 days from now, this space will feature video of my 1.25-mile circle of the Back Bay in prime-exposure mode.

You've been warned.