A girlfriend asked me to do a holiday running streak with her. I said yes, then I said no. The last time I tried a running streak, I got injured. So no thanks. Plus it just isn’t practical with my work schedule.
But I did like the idea of some kind of streak.
So, I chose push-ups. I’ve been logging push-ups since December 2012, and I have just over 5,500 logged. Then I do another 100 at least most Mondays after my spin class. But I never log those.
But from yesterday (100 push-ups) to today (150 so far for the day) through Jan. 1, I hope to do 4,000, and then I know I’ll be over 10,000 for the year (including the ones I didn’t log). It’s easy because I can do them anywhere — at work, while waiting for pasta water to boil, whatever. It’s tough because I’m forgetful and lazy and will likely skip a day, and ruin the streak.
In other news, most folks have read this essay about how lame fitness folks are — constantly blabbing.
This is a reply to it, which basically says, hey, let’s not criticize people for being fit, in part:
To be passionate is to be alive. I am no longer Office Bike Guy. Office Bike Guy has given way to Crazy New Father. If you’re interested—and even if you’re not interested—I can show you dozens of photos of an 8-month-old crawling, sitting up in his crib, eating breakfast, reading Chekhov (what can I say, my baby is brilliant). It is the most lovely thing in the world…to me. And in the end, that’s the thing to remember about Office Runner and Office Triathlete and Office CrossFitter and everyone else who can’t stop talking about their workouts: These are people who have fallen in love. And this love is making them healthier and happier people. So what if we have to listen to a few boring stories. OK, you’re a runner? I love you. Tell me more.
And here‘s another one, calling fit the new rich:
… many Americans are annoyed by public displays of fitness. I’ve never owned an expensive car or million-dollar home. But fitness-induced annoyance strikes me as similar to the resentment that symbols of wealth can provoke. In a nation grown fat, fit is the new rich. Among fitness have-nots, there’s a simmering distaste for runner smugness, perhaps even a desire to see runners trip and fall.