Thursday, July 15, 2010

Getting Chicked.

We're back at the beach again, this time with my mom
and dad at Ocean Isle Beach. I brought the boys on Tuesday and we've been having a great time playing on the beach, fishing with Mimi and Bobo, watching cable tv (a treat since the very
austere Barnhardts only have 12 channels at home-did you know there's a show called "Confessions:Animal Hoarders" on Animal Planet??), and trying to thwart Cameron's insistent pleas to go to "Myrtles Beach" and play putt putt at one of the volcano/airplane/dinosaur tourist traps. Aside from that, I've been trying to say yes as much as possible. Sometimes I need a vacation just from saying no.

Thanks to very gracious parents I am able to keep up with my training while I'm here, and so went for a four mile run yesterday afternoon around 5:45 and a six mile run this morning. It goes without saying that it was hooooot, and humid, and windy and flat. It was fine, really, because I was happy to be out running. It was fine, that is, until I got passed.

I could hear the guy coming up behind me for about 20 seconds, and when he finally did pass, I started laughing and said "That's very unsporting of you!" He laughed, continued to pass me, and said "I got passed by two teenagers yesterday, so I know how it feels. Keep it up!"

Like most people, I would much prefer being the passer rather than the passed. And in a race, I typically do pass people, especially in the last 3 miles or so. Now let me be clear. I'm not up in the lead pack, passing people at a 6 minute mile clip, elbowing them out of the way for a spot in the top ten. I'm passing people who came out too fast, or who are falling apart towards the end, or who have pulled a hammy and are just trying to bring it in steady. That's who I'm passing.

It was recently brought to my attention that there's a term for getting passed by a girl-"getting chicked." When I heard this, I laughed. Kinda. I laughed the kind of laugh that my brother and I laugh when something's kind of funny, kind of not, kind of maybe making us want to put the beat down on someone. Anyone who knows both of us knows the accompanying face-somewhere between a smirk and a smile, with a little bit of trouble behind the eyes.

What's the term when you get passed by a guy then? "Normal" or "typical" or "expected"? Now don't worry--I'm not going to go all Gloria Steinem/Naomi Wolf/Soujourner Truth "Ain't I a Woman" on you, but I'm thinking about it. I am.

For now I suppose I'll call getting passed by a guy-or girl-motivation. If you've ever run, you know it can be demoralizing to get passed. But it can also serve to get you moving a little faster, to pick up the pace, or to just flat out keep going. I'll never forget Maddy passing me on the bike in the Greenville Tri last first I just wanted to keep her in my sights. When that wasn't happening, I just wanted to catch up to her and her sweet tri-suit during the run.

Getting passed by Maddy made me push that much harder, not so much because I wanted to beat her (though that would have been nice too), but mainly because I wanted to do my best, to put it all out there and put down the best race possible.

So whether you get "chicked" or you get "motivated" or you get "manned", keep going, like the guy who passed me encouraged me to do. You'll be happy you did. And you never know-you may end up chicking/motivating/manning them too.


Simon Crowe said...

Kelley, I'm continuing to really enjoy this blog....keep it up and enjoy the beach! (I'm at Folly right now...)

JL said...

Chasing THREE BOYS definitely counts as training!
Also...wanted you to know that you have ALMOST motivated me to put on my slogging shoes.

tommyday said...

I used to get demoralized every time someone passed me. Now I just think of them as rash, "unseasoned" runners without the experience of a veteran such as myself. "He's going out too hard" I say to myself. "He doesn't know how big the hill is later" (or how hot it will be). Or any other number of rationalizations that I hope will mitigate the spine crushing, leg sapping, devastation associated with being passed. Perhaps I haven't totally gotten over it. Either way, when you are in the throws of it, fitness becomes empiric. A man, a woman, a small child-it really doesn't even phase me except that I recognize how much MORE fit they are than I. I respect their fitness. Whether you're a "chick" or a "man" is not up to you. How fit you become is a matter of choice. When you get passed it can become painfully obvious what choices you made along the way.

tommyday said...

(from Madeleine)
I CHOSE to go running yesterday, despite temperatures incompatible with human life. Proud of myself for being out there, tackling a hill (some would call it a rise), I was "chicked", by a gal pushing a large child, in a stroller....with ankle weights and a back pack on... running backwards...while juggling; OK so she actually was just running forwards pushing a stroller as she blew by me but I'm certain she had a prosthetic leg.