The Friday Playlist: Cooling Off (and me getting fancy with grooveshark)

I am still running. Even though it is ridiculously hot out and this week Shaun has been out of town so finding a time to run has been a little tricky. And was often in the heat of the day.
Normally when am in a running phase my playsits is kind of embarrassing.
Some Lady GaGa, Ke$ha, Kanye, Outkast, Black Eyed Peas, Beyonce....you get the idea. Anything fast with a strong beat to keep me going. And about half the time it was on a tread mill.
This time around I am opting for some longer slower runs on some little shaded roads that take me out of town. And listening to music that helps clear my head. It isn't your usual running tunes....but they have been working.

Comments

Anonymous said…

Have you ever listened to an audio book while running? When someone first mentioned it to me, I thought it was sounded terribly boring, but I've really enjoyed it. I find myself getting lost in the story, passing the time nicely. It's also a motivation to get back out and run to find out what's happening next in the book!

July 16, 2010 at 9:28 AM

Michelle DeRusha said…

Hey you've got a cool blog here. Nice to meet you. And I agree...I'm a runner, too, and you do whatever you can to keep moving.

July 18, 2010 at 4:39 PM

pace yourself

Tonight I went running with a friend ten years my junior. I asked her how far she was running and when she said only about 1.5 or 2 miles, I teased her that I could go at least twice that far. And to just let me know when she needed to stop. I have been running pretty regularly for the last few weeks. It isn’t long but keep increasing my time and distance. I’ve stopped getting blisters. I don’t suck wind after five minutes anymore and I was feeling pretty good about myself. Thinking I might even be able to out run this girl who was so much younger and obviously in more shape than me. As we started to jog I told her that I run pretty slow. Like my husband used to walk beside me while I ran, slow. And she slowed her gait a little bit for me but it was still faster than I usually go. I was a little embarrassed and was not going to ask her to slow down again. So I just ran at her pace. I stayed close. And was fading fast. A little over a mile in I was ready to quit. Again, pride, which isn...

pursue something else.

Americans like the idea of happy. of pursuing happiness. It is even one of our inalienable rights at least according to the Declaration of Independance. But I think maybe we should pursue something else. like love or joy or peace or contentment. and leave happy alone. Don't read me wrong. I am neither bitter nor cynical. Even my problems are good problems. I am positive. Half full. And most days I laugh a whole lot more than I cry. And simple things like a dance party in the living room, an hour alone in Barnes and Noble, the yellow pajama pants my son picked out for me for mother's day, potstickers, clean sheets, someone surprising me with coffee, jeans fresh from the dryer, a good song on the radio, or squeals of delight when I walk in the door all make my heart sing. They make me happy. For a minute. But when the squealing turns to screaming, my new pants are dirty, the sheets are in a jumble on the floor or the coffee runs out....where does that leave me? And happy isn'...

my first dance

My wedding day is a little bit of a blur. And it was a great day. But so many people and so much going on and so many moments that it is hard to remember them all clearly without the help of photographs. But I totally remember my first dance as a bride. And it wasn’t with my husband. Or even my father, or brother. I had quickly kicked off my heels and hid them underneath a table. Said my hellos and hugs and smiled until my face hurt. Someone ushered us through the buffet line and I piled my plate with hors d'oeuvres and headed to a table. But before I could pop a single shrimp in my mouth someone grabbed me firmly by the arm and pulled me onto the dance floor and into a jitterbug before I could protest. It was my husband’s granddaddy. A man I had only met about a few times and heard say about as many words. So I was a little surprised when he spun me around the dance floor. Eventually that night I danced with my husband. And my dad. And probably even my brother. But my fir...

idontbelieveingrammar

Search This Blog