Take A Hint

Two things I'd like you all to remind me of next time I say that I'm going to quit running or take a break from running:
1. I always gain weight when I quit running
2. It takes forever to get back in running shape (able to breathe while covering miles)

This is not my screenshot.
It is fromhttp://www.therecapp.com/

For the past week or so, I've been running again. Well, walking and running. At first I started walking a block, running a block.
In Florida, along the beach, I didn't have that option, and then in my parents' neighborhood, the blocks might stretch for miles, so I decided to follow the App on my iPhone -- iMap My Run.
I would walk a tenth of a mile then run two tenths of a mile.
I thought I was getting better. This morning I even ran four tenths and half a mile before stopping to walk, but it was right around that time that my iPhone began showing the locations of bus stops.
Okay, I can take a hint that I'm moving a little slow for the iPhone.

Competing With Myself

This morning, I discovered something new on my phone, and it can only mean trouble.
I signed onto iMapMyRun, an app that keeps track of my route when I run.
But, wait, that's not all. It also keeps track of my speed.
I really wish I hadn't seen that. Now I'm going to be compulsive about running faster times and trying to beat my previous times.
I learned a valuable lesson when I pushed the start button on my route as I walked out the door. That's right, I walked out the door instead of running, which slowed down my overall time. I usually walk the first two-tenths of a mile to the corner before I start running. When I saw my overall time, I was again cursing myself. That was throwing off my cumulative time.
For my next run, I'd give up the mileage and not start the route until I was ready to run.
It started to rain about a mile into my run, so I turned around (I have to protect my iPhone from the rain). I pushed the button to end my "route" as soon as I started walking so it wouldn't reduce my overall speed. Then when I pushed to finish, the app asked me if I wanted to post my run, make it public.
No, I can't imagine who I would want to share this with.
That's when the app flashed at me to start adding friends. What friends would I have who wanted to keep track of my runs and my speed? Unless they were simply planning to compete with me? Is that where we're going?
I get enough pressure competing with myself.

iPhone Coffee Apps

This weekend as I got to the point farthest from my house on my run, I felt a sharp pain in my right knee. I tried to run through it but the pain continued. So I started walking.
As I walked home, I thought of the Caribou Coffee shop just up the street. I could stop and get a coffee since I had to walk anyway. But I didn't have any money with me. All I had was my iPhone, which serves as an iPod while I run, tucked safely into my water bottle belt.
Then I wondered about Apps. Did Caribou Coffee have an app that I could download, load up with money from my bank account and use to buy coffee? I searched apps but couldn't find one. Then I found the Starbucks app. During that rather long walk home with the painful knee, I concentrated on adding the app to my phone. I downloaded it and saw that I needed to enter my username and password, which I already had since I'd registered my Starbucks card before. Next, I added some money to the card, and, Voila! I could use my phone to buy coffee at Starbucks. Unfortunately, the Starbucks was not on my walk home, so I would have to wait before trying it. When I left later that morning to drive to Trader Joe's, I drove through Starbucks and handed over my own cup to fill with coffe and my iPhone as payment.
I'm not sure why it is so exciting to hand over my phone to pay for my coffee. I guess it's just one less thing I have to remember when I leave the house in the morning.
I love technology.

Babysitting

Today we babysat for baby Caroline, who is now 20 months old. The cats entertain her. And she entertains the cats by reading to them. Whenever I take a picture of her, she asks to see "the baby." Today I was showing her the pictures on my iPhone when she began to use her index finger to scroll through them. She even pushed the arrow to start videos over and over again. At one point, she used her finger and thumb to enlarge the picture. She knows more about the iPhone than I do, thanks to her grandfather. With the iPhone, I can turn the camera around so Caroline can see herself. She must have taken 30 pictures of herself and some video too. She played peekaboo with herself on the iPhone. I'll try to load it.

iPhone Revolution

The inkling began when I saw this.
My blogging friend Corey had an iPhone and was posting fabulous photos from her home in Provence. Throughout the day she updated her blog. She took videos at the French brocante (flea market), spoke with her French husband, and shot a video at the edge of a cliff in Cassis. Okay, maybe Apple was paying her to sell the iPhone, but my mind began to plot.
With an iPhone, I could update my blog while I travelled. I could take pictures and videos without carrying along my clunky camera. I could use the iPhone as a reader rather than buying a separate eReader.
I needed a new phone. My phone was beaten and battered. It quit for no reason and sometimes I'd have to remove the battery and replace it to get the phone to work again. We had a credit I could get the iPhone for $99. I ordered it and anxiously watched for the FedEx delivery person.
Today my iPhone arrived. I set it up and waited for my life to change. I expected that I might look out the window and see a mountain soar toward a painfully blue sky just like Corey did with her first iPhone photo.
Instead my front porch is still here in Ohio, but the new cushions on my porch swing look a little French. I guess the iPhone won't change my life. It might take me awhile to figure out how to text and make calls, much less post videos on my blog.
Who knows, maybe this is only the first step toward a fabulous new life that Earl and I will have in Provence someday, and I'll take my iPhone with me.