when the going gets tough...

I mentioned pulling out the hard-hitters later this week...and here they are. In all of their fiercely aggressive glory.
A lot of collabs, a lot of dancy-dance mixes, remixes and cake mixes.
These are the songs whose bass lines will lift your feet as you run and increase your speed by 22%, which is also my favorite number.
And yes, Katy Perry did make it onto both running mixes.

(If you're viewing this in Google Reader, click here for the music player.)

 

I've been referring to it as "Bumbershoot Weekend" for so long that I almost forgot it was none other than Labor Day weekend as well! If you're not joining me at Bumbershoot, I hope you all have the best 3-day weekend...maybe ever. 

Go on a run. 

To this playlist.

run it out

While I have always had a touch-and-go relationship with running, I realized last year that I could actually do it semi-successfully if I stuck with it. Still, recreational running is kinnnnd of nuts to me. I don't know that I'll ever love love love running just for the hey of it, but I recognize that there are plenty of people who do—so may the Lord bless their outrageous insanity.

And running without music? Gasp. I tried it for a bit because a friend told me that's when she "gets all her thinking done." Except that I can barely breathe when I run, let alone think. So I recharged my iPod and vowed never to experiment with silence again. 

With that said, I typically have two go-to running playlists:
1. One that I'm proud of.
2. And one that I'm not.

Today you get the good one. Talented artists who pull out interesting and intricate pieces of music that keep me company while sweating. Good company. That's all I ask. Later this week I'll give you the harder-hitting, semi-inappropriate and more aggressive playlist. Fun. 

(If you're viewing this in Google Reader, click here for the music player.)

M83—Midnight City ... Dear M83, It's been a while—"like three whole years" a while. I cannot wait til you play at Neumo's in November.

Ellie Goulding—Starry Eyed ... Dreamy-voiced British artist who lands somewhere between electro-pop and indie folk. Mmmm mmmm yes.

The Black Keys—Ohio ... Just two guys, a couple of guitars, and the best American blues-rock my ears have ever been blessed with.

Hot Bodies in Motion—Physics ... Their music is tough and loose, and with a name that sounds like pure sex, you know great things await you. Also, if you blog about them, their lead singer might buy you a drink two months later. 

The Stone Foxes—Psycho ... Bluesy California rock that Jack White would be proud of. And sometimes I shout along mid-run. Also, they did a bang-up cover of I'm a King Bee that was featured in the national ad campaign for Jack Daniel's Tennessee Honey. Kind of cool?

The Belle Brigade—Where Not to Look for Freedom ... Peppy brother-sister duo who do not let their musical vitality waiver. Ever.

TV Girl—Baby You Were There ... A little bit Motown, a little bit indie-pop, but this newer duo's unique and catchy hit has not-so-pop-happy lyrics if you listen closely. Also, you can download their four-song EP for free on their Facebook page.

Mister Heavenly—Bronx Sniper ... Three and a half minutes of fist-pumping rock. A newer-to-me band, but they seem like capable songwriters, and I'm interested to hear more from them in the future.

Little Dragon—Ritual Union ... I gravitate toward Swedish things. Little Dragon is no exception. And they're at Bumbershoot in Seattle this weekend. Holla.

Katy Perry—Teenage Dream (Manhattan Clique Remix) ... Yes, Katy made it onto the good list. I love her.

Maroon Five—Moves Like Jagger ... This is the only song on this list that I'm embarrassed by. I think Adam Levine is creepy, and the lyrics are horrendous. Why is it sooooooo catchy.

Young the Giant—My Body ... No, performing at the VMA's is not selling out. It's winning. 

Florence + The Machines—What the Water Gave Me ... Magical. Soulful. Transcendental in the sense that I sometimes feel like I'm having an out-of-body experience when I listen to this song. Which is great while running.

Mat Kearney—Ships in the Night ... I wanted to marry him in college. He's taken now. But this song off his newest album contains the classic Mat Kearney beat pumps that his fans love.

Grace Potter and the Nocturnals—Paris (Oh La La) ... The diva of the indie-rock world, in my opinion. The girl is gorgeous. And the girl can sing.

If you missed it, I guest blogged earlier this week at the incredible Moorea-Seal.com. I ramble on about made-up spiritual gifts, and why making mix CDs and playlists falls under that category. Also, I say nice things about having a healthy self-image. 

Check. It. Out.

hurts so good

 

I started going to a new hot yoga studio this month called I Love Hot Yoga. I've been doing yoga fairly regularly for just over a year now and don't see myself stopping any time soon, but sweat-til-you-die yoga is another story. Allow me to elaborate...

The thermostat was set at 121 degrees* in a gross attempt to keep the hot air flowing into the room. The official temperature of the room climbed to a stifling 110, and my breath grew shallow, which unfortunately completely defeats the point of practicing yoga. Large droplets of sweat raced up (yes, up) my cheeks and into my eyes as I tipped upside down into Down Dog Pose. My light purple mat now had awkward splotches of darker wet purple smeared over the places where my sit bones, breasts, and forearms had pushed into its now slick surface. I reached back for my metal Klean Kanteen water bottle, only to bring a sensation of heat to my lips, followed by warm water. It didn’t fully refresh, but it started to quench. The unfamiliar warmth in my muscles allowed them to elongate and lengthen without the usual pullback and tightening. I fiddled with my sweaty, limp ponytail, turned my left heel out at a 45-degree angle, and lunged forward over my right knee into Warrior One Pose. Later, after hanging my head in a rag doll fashion for only 15 seconds or so, there was a ringing in my ears from the pulsating blood vessels in my head. While half the class rose into Tree Pose, I joined the other half in a recovery pose known as Child’s Pose, so I could regain my hearing and grab a towel to wipe as much sweat off my face and neck as possible. I felt no shame in taking a 10-second “break.” High-intensity, physical exercise in Sub-Saharan conditions is almost a joke. Someone stepped out of the self-made sauna halfway through class to use the restroom, and as the door opened and let in a gush of cool air, I realized that I had literally flung my arms toward it. 

I can tell you one thing, I have never deserved frozen yogurt from the shop next door so much.

*This post is dedicated to my dad, who has always preferred freezing temperatures and probably thinks I'm losing brain cells for doing this. 

13.1

If you had told me a year ago that I was going to spend $90 to register for a HALF MARATHON today, I would have laughed and claimed it wasn't possible. 

Running and I used to really not get along. 

But I know I'm stronger than I think I am. You are too. So why not run 13.1 miles for fun? 

And then I figured, if I'm going to run a 1/2, I might as well do it during a gorgeous Seattle summer, where there are bands playing at every mile-marker. That's my type of race.

So...I did it! June 25, 2011. Tukwila to Seattle. 13.1 miles.

I'll be blogging about my training and nutrition regimen, and in all honesty, I could use ALL THE EMOTIONAL SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT I can get. I went and watched my friend Anna cross the finish line at the Santa Barbara International Half Marathon last weekend...and I totally teared up. Running is emotional for me. It has never come easy to me. In fact, it's one of the hardest things I've ever done. But I'm stubborn and really want to prove to myself that I can do this. Deep down I know that I can, and I know that I love how running makes me feel...in the end. More philosophical and sappy thoughts on running later...

Course Highlights

• Lake Washington
• Seward Park
• Views of Mt. Baker on a clear day
• Downtown Seattle
• Lake Union
• Space Needle

• Views of Mt. Rainier on a clear day
• Olympic Mountains
• Puget Sound/ Elliott Bay
• Qwest Field, home of the Seattle Seahawks & Seattle Sounders FC
• Safeco Field, home of the Seattle Mariners

{ this is fun }

Ashley over at {never}homemaker is sharing my fitness story on her blog! 

Part of it has been written about before on my blog, but I expanded it a little more when I heard she was sharing peoples' personal health and fitness stories. Let's be honest here, my "fitness story" isn't anywhere near being done...but it's come a massively long way in the last year. I feel great, and I have so many of you to thank for your encouragement and advice.

You can read the real thing here.

Love you all...

{ speaking of fitness... }

(...and I assure you, it does not happen often...)

...Jenny, a pilates instructor in LA and author of Have Your Cake, asked for a "Fit Five" list last week from her readers, and she posted mine yesterday as a lil guest entry. Check it out here if you'd like to hear me rave about Greek yogurt and getting eight hours of sleep each night.* Riveting stuff indeed.


*Yes Mom, I'm still very much working on that.

{ the reconciliation of running & me }

Let's talk about me and running. Not to worry...this won't be a rant about the 10k I'm training for (because I'm not), nor about how much I just love love love to wake up at 5am and get a few miles in before work (because I don't).
It's a relationship that never really got off the ground, unfortunately. I'm not sure what the deal breaker was. Maybe it was all of those forced jog-a-thon fundraisers in Kindergarten (which I walked), or the "running of the dreaded mile" in third grade (which I also walked...in the snow), or perhaps it was all of those laps we did in PE in fifth grade...in our plaid, pleated uniform dresses. The man in the picture was actually our PE "coach."

While the above memories all feed into my broken relationship with the track, the moment in my running history that truly highlights my athletic demise (and also doubles as an oft-repeated family anecdote) was the mile I had to run for physical fitness testing in junior high.
Junior high was a nightmare in and of itself, from which I'm still debriefing. And then at the end of the day, they made you run. We had these super cute red PE shirts we had to wear that had Santa Barbara Christian School printed on them. And all of the girls who needed sports bras were anti- wearing them (I was in that category)...while the girls with nothing to cover would wear them just for "fun."


Side note: Perhaps some of you have heard me reference my "childhood best friend" from time to time...Katy [Hudson] Perry...? We were a year apart at Santa Barbara Christian School in junior high. I have this distinct memory of us changing for PE in the girls' bathroom, wherein she lifted up her PE shirt to show not one, but two bras on, claiming, "My boobs are so big, I have to wear two bras at once!" So just to set the record straight, I wasn't the girl she kissed, but she did flash me in junior high.


So there I am running the mile on a beat-up field full of gopher holes and  puddles, and near lap four, I glance around and realize that I am one of only two people left still running. And the other girl is about to cross the finish line. And I am behind her. AND SHE IS WEARING A BACK BRACE. If that doesn't scream, "Give up already! You are not a runner!" to an already insecure 13-year-old girl, I don't what does...


Now I'm 24, and I have just begun to mend my broken bond with running. It started with a trip to Lululemon and the purchase of this bra. I had foolishly sworn off this store previously as over-priced and over-zealous, created for the people who do yoga up to three times a day. And then I found myself all but drowning in a social circle of Lululemon believers and testimonies. So I ventured into the store - petrified, mind you - and bought this tank and the aforementioned sports bra. Which is solid as a rock...and yet bizarrely comfortable. And now I run. At least every other day. Not impressively fast, and not amazingly far - but that's still running. And Lord help me if I don't get my money's worth out of that $50 sports bra and burn some major calories in the process.


I doubt they'd ever quote this in Fitness Magazine, but sometimes looking fantastic and spending unholy amounts of $$$ on athletic attire is by far the best motivation to sweat. Whatever it takes, right?