I got a new watch a while back. I pretty much hate it. I like the idea of it, but I can't seem to do any more with it than I could with my old, cheapo watch. Basically, I use it for a stopwatch. I occasionally hit the lap button, but then can't retrieve my info, plus it doesn't calculate averages the way I'd like. I keep old runs on there, thinking that some day I will sit down (in all my spare time, of course) and parse the data and somehow be granted the keys to the kingdom.
I put the kids to bed tonight, and after the Supportive Husband got home, headed out for an evening run. The sun was setting. A fast and furious thunderstorm had rolled through, cooling things off just a touch. Knowing that the light was waning, I pulled out the first white shirt I laid my hands on - my old "Distance is my game" shirt. And headed for the door.
At the last second, I turned around and grabbed my watch off the bathroom counter. After Saturday's disaster, I had no desire to measure myself against anything concrete. I just needed to make the effort to go run a couple of miles. But I decided that good or bad, I needed to be accountable for what I did out there on the pavement.
I opened the front door, and put my watch into stopwatch mode, and there, staring deep into my soul, was the undeniably shitty time from Saturday's run. For shame. I know I'm slow, but even I have standards, goals, and yes, just a little bit of pride. I'll never win. I can't even run with some of my favorite people because I'm just too slow. And this has never bothered me. But the type-A, hyper-competitive part of me wouldn't run if I weren't faster than somebody. I'd much rather be a DNF or DNS than DFL. And I do want to improve my times. I get sloppy about tracking my workouts, but I never, ever miss putting a race into my log and comparing it with years past.
So seeing Saturday's time, the time that isn't going in my training log, and definitely isn't getting posted for the whole Internet to see, almost deflated me completely, and I very nearly turned back around and bagged my run. It's too hot. It's too humid. I just ate. The kids might wake up and need me. The laundry's not folded.
Instead, I held down the reset button, and after a couple of seconds was rewarded with a metallic chirp and 00:00.00.
Slate clean, I hit start and ran. And ran and ran. And kept running. And ran faster when I felt tired. Saturday was gone with the push of a button. I didn't need to leave my baggage on the pavement, I just needed to clear it out of my watch.
And then I got back to my front porch, two miles and just 20:40 later. I measured on two different sites, and yes, it was a whole 2.0 miles. Maybe even a skosh more. For two miles, I ran 10:20 pace, and didn't walk a step. This is HUGE for me. Huge. People, I was happy with 12 minute miles at the 10 miler. I don't think I've run this fast in the past 3 years, at least.
It's a start. Goodbye, Saturday, and good riddance. Chirp!
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
run or cry
Do you ever have one of those runs that is so bad that it simply has to be the start of something better because it couldn't get any worse? One of those "perfect storm" runs, where everything in your life that interferes with your running is presented to you, all at once, like a mythological test of will and character?
It's been a hot summer - running any time after 8am is uncomfortable, running after noon is just dangerous. And with my sacrifice of my Saturday morning runs to the Husband's work schedule, finding time to get in runs on a regular basis has been nearly impossible. Sure, I'll pound out a mile on the treadmill at lunchtime, and I've been swimming a lot at the neighborhood pool, but I am not race ready.
This morning was a rare Saturday where the husband didn't have a gig. I claimed dibs, and told him he was in charge of the kids till 9am. Like an idiot, I set my alarm for 6:35, which is about 10 minutes before Max is usually up for the day. Next thing I know, I'm putting on my sneakers and I have company. The Husband was still asleep.
I made Max breakfast, feeling my morning run ticking away with every Cheerio. Then I attempted to gently remind the Husband that he was in charge. As I tried to slip out, with the Husband still snoozing and Max groggy and clingy, it met with some resistance. The next thing I know, I'm putting the buggy in the back of the car and telling a tear-streaked Max he can come with me as long as he doesn't slow me down.
Loyal readers (hi Mo and Robine) probably know that I enjoy the solitude of running, so you can imagine that I was, to put it mildly, peeved to suddenly have an unwanted running buddy. I love him, but he weighs 42 pounds, and needs snacks and potty breaks.
Of course, 5 minutes in to our drive, he freaked out about not being at home, so I turned around. I walked him up to the front door and opened it, where I heard Sami squeal "Mama!!" from the kitchen. I shoved Max inside ahead of me, and closed the door before she could see me. Yeah, great parenting, I know.
45 minutes behind schedule, I left the driveway again. The temperature was already 77 degrees, and I almost bagged the run entirely. The mountain of mom guilt I felt for leaving my babies was huge. Almost as big as the grudge I was holding against the Husband for not snapping to when duty called.
I ran the Monticello trail, one of my favorite runs. And yet, I was peeved about that, too. I really wanted to be running some of my old training grounds that I don't feel comfortable running without the safety of a group or at least a running partner. Ridge Road, I'm talking about you!! And Dick Woods, god bless you, maybe even you, too, just a little.
With tears in my eyes, I kept my sunglasses on and my hat pulled low and started off.
The first half mile was pretty good. Each step shook off a little more of the angst, guilt, and anger. But I wasn't ready to make eye contact with any fellow trailgoers; I kept my eyes averted.
I don't know if it was the heat, the humidity, or my growing hunger and need to pee, but I started falling apart. I almost turned around a mile up the two mile path, but figured that I could stop at the visitor's center up top and use the bathroom, and maybe even get an iced coffee at the cafe.
No such luck. I reached the gates to the grounds and an elderly rent-a-cop, clearly drunk with power, roundly chastised me for attempting to run through before the official opening time. He was overly rude to someone who clearly wasn't out to vandalize or wreak any havoc, and it took a lot of willpower not to just drop trou right on Mr. Jefferson's Little Mountain and take care of my potty break right there at that picturesque wayside.
I begrudgingly turned around and headed back down the hill. Despite being wooded, there are precious few areas appropriate for answering a call of nature, so I pressed on.
Usually I let my legs unwind on the long downhill, but I just didn't have any rhythm left. Any baggage I had dropped on the way up, I was picking right back up and then some on the way down. And it was so humid I felt like I needed gills to breathe. I took walk breaks for my lungs. I took walk breaks for my legs. I took walk breaks for my psyche. I ran only when I needed to keep from crying, because I was so worn out that it was really one or the other at that point. If I have to pick between running and crying, there is no fucking way I am picking crying.
How did I get here? How did I get from being a marathoning superwoman to a frazzled mom who can't run downhill? Hip injury, bad winter, illness, hot summer, kid illness, business trips, workaholic husband, needy kids, blah blah blah. I can only chalk it all up to excuses at this point, and resolve to do better tomorrow. I thought for a long time that running was getting in the way of things I wanted to do with my life. But today I learned that running is one of the things on a very short list that I do want, no, NEED, to do with my life. I need to get a plan, get a program, pick a race, find a group, find some time, change my schedule, buy new bras. But mostly, I just need to pick running.
It's been a hot summer - running any time after 8am is uncomfortable, running after noon is just dangerous. And with my sacrifice of my Saturday morning runs to the Husband's work schedule, finding time to get in runs on a regular basis has been nearly impossible. Sure, I'll pound out a mile on the treadmill at lunchtime, and I've been swimming a lot at the neighborhood pool, but I am not race ready.
This morning was a rare Saturday where the husband didn't have a gig. I claimed dibs, and told him he was in charge of the kids till 9am. Like an idiot, I set my alarm for 6:35, which is about 10 minutes before Max is usually up for the day. Next thing I know, I'm putting on my sneakers and I have company. The Husband was still asleep.
I made Max breakfast, feeling my morning run ticking away with every Cheerio. Then I attempted to gently remind the Husband that he was in charge. As I tried to slip out, with the Husband still snoozing and Max groggy and clingy, it met with some resistance. The next thing I know, I'm putting the buggy in the back of the car and telling a tear-streaked Max he can come with me as long as he doesn't slow me down.
Loyal readers (hi Mo and Robine) probably know that I enjoy the solitude of running, so you can imagine that I was, to put it mildly, peeved to suddenly have an unwanted running buddy. I love him, but he weighs 42 pounds, and needs snacks and potty breaks.
Of course, 5 minutes in to our drive, he freaked out about not being at home, so I turned around. I walked him up to the front door and opened it, where I heard Sami squeal "Mama!!" from the kitchen. I shoved Max inside ahead of me, and closed the door before she could see me. Yeah, great parenting, I know.
45 minutes behind schedule, I left the driveway again. The temperature was already 77 degrees, and I almost bagged the run entirely. The mountain of mom guilt I felt for leaving my babies was huge. Almost as big as the grudge I was holding against the Husband for not snapping to when duty called.
I ran the Monticello trail, one of my favorite runs. And yet, I was peeved about that, too. I really wanted to be running some of my old training grounds that I don't feel comfortable running without the safety of a group or at least a running partner. Ridge Road, I'm talking about you!! And Dick Woods, god bless you, maybe even you, too, just a little.
With tears in my eyes, I kept my sunglasses on and my hat pulled low and started off.
The first half mile was pretty good. Each step shook off a little more of the angst, guilt, and anger. But I wasn't ready to make eye contact with any fellow trailgoers; I kept my eyes averted.
I don't know if it was the heat, the humidity, or my growing hunger and need to pee, but I started falling apart. I almost turned around a mile up the two mile path, but figured that I could stop at the visitor's center up top and use the bathroom, and maybe even get an iced coffee at the cafe.
No such luck. I reached the gates to the grounds and an elderly rent-a-cop, clearly drunk with power, roundly chastised me for attempting to run through before the official opening time. He was overly rude to someone who clearly wasn't out to vandalize or wreak any havoc, and it took a lot of willpower not to just drop trou right on Mr. Jefferson's Little Mountain and take care of my potty break right there at that picturesque wayside.
I begrudgingly turned around and headed back down the hill. Despite being wooded, there are precious few areas appropriate for answering a call of nature, so I pressed on.
Usually I let my legs unwind on the long downhill, but I just didn't have any rhythm left. Any baggage I had dropped on the way up, I was picking right back up and then some on the way down. And it was so humid I felt like I needed gills to breathe. I took walk breaks for my lungs. I took walk breaks for my legs. I took walk breaks for my psyche. I ran only when I needed to keep from crying, because I was so worn out that it was really one or the other at that point. If I have to pick between running and crying, there is no fucking way I am picking crying.
How did I get here? How did I get from being a marathoning superwoman to a frazzled mom who can't run downhill? Hip injury, bad winter, illness, hot summer, kid illness, business trips, workaholic husband, needy kids, blah blah blah. I can only chalk it all up to excuses at this point, and resolve to do better tomorrow. I thought for a long time that running was getting in the way of things I wanted to do with my life. But today I learned that running is one of the things on a very short list that I do want, no, NEED, to do with my life. I need to get a plan, get a program, pick a race, find a group, find some time, change my schedule, buy new bras. But mostly, I just need to pick running.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
PT and parenthood
I graduated from PT! I'm not exactly back to new, but it'll do. I am trying to build the core I never had and REALLY didn't have after 3 pregnancies. It's humbling, to say the least. I learned lots of really torturous exercises. Fitting in all the PT stuff has been really time consuming, and I have been running very little.
But today I ran twice! I'm not usually in to two-a-days, but apparently my four year old son is. He heard the Supportive Husband and I talking about going for a walk/run, and decided that not only did he want to come, he did NOT want to ride in the buggy. So he and I ran while the Supportive Husband pushed the toddler in the double stroller. We ran and ran and ran. For some short little legs, we went quite a ways. And Max got tired out, too. ;)
Later in the morning, he had his penultimate swim lesson, just in the nick of time as the pools around here are opening next weekend. He floated and bobbed and glided and jumped. And when it was over, he begged for more time in the water. He recently got a snorkel mask, and I helped him float around as he snorkeled around the pool.
After we got home, he ate a huge lunch, and begged to go running again. So we put the baby in the buggy and took off. We ran and ran to the neighboring neighborhood's playground, where he ran and climbed and slid and jumped. Then we ran home, just beating the rain clouds coming over the mountains.
He then refused to nap, and was later heard telling his sister, "Let's run around!"
He went to bed early, and without a single word of protest.
But today I ran twice! I'm not usually in to two-a-days, but apparently my four year old son is. He heard the Supportive Husband and I talking about going for a walk/run, and decided that not only did he want to come, he did NOT want to ride in the buggy. So he and I ran while the Supportive Husband pushed the toddler in the double stroller. We ran and ran and ran. For some short little legs, we went quite a ways. And Max got tired out, too. ;)
Later in the morning, he had his penultimate swim lesson, just in the nick of time as the pools around here are opening next weekend. He floated and bobbed and glided and jumped. And when it was over, he begged for more time in the water. He recently got a snorkel mask, and I helped him float around as he snorkeled around the pool.
After we got home, he ate a huge lunch, and begged to go running again. So we put the baby in the buggy and took off. We ran and ran to the neighboring neighborhood's playground, where he ran and climbed and slid and jumped. Then we ran home, just beating the rain clouds coming over the mountains.
He then refused to nap, and was later heard telling his sister, "Let's run around!"
He went to bed early, and without a single word of protest.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Physical Therapy
I finally started PT for my hip that has been bothering me since I was 6 months pregnant with Sami. She is now 17 months old, so, yeah, I've really been putting this off.
Why did I wait so long?
After the first session, I felt a little better, confident that the PT had identified my major complaints, and some issues I hadn't even realized I was having because I was so focused on my painful hip. After my second session, I could tell my gait was different, both running and walking. I'm no longer all herky-jerky, using my body to compensate for my sore, weak, and spastic hip flexor. A few days later, I'm finding that surrounding muscles are sore, because I'm finally using them the way they're supposed to be used. I have made huge progress, but still have a ways to go.
Mostly, I'm just so glad to know that I can feel good again. That I don't have to deal with a bum hip permanently. After 20 months, I had integrated the bad hip into my life, so it's taking some time to un-integrate it. But I'm ready to do the work.
The Charlottesville Marathon was this morning. There's a half-marathon, too. I thought about running it, but really didn't want to mess up the work in progress. But now I know that the marathon - the full 26.2 - is now a matter of when, not if. I'm thinking about going easy this summer, spending lots of time with the kids at the pool, doing the 2 mile Cable Swim in July, then tuning up with a fall half. Then next spring - 26.2 here I come!!
Why did I wait so long?
After the first session, I felt a little better, confident that the PT had identified my major complaints, and some issues I hadn't even realized I was having because I was so focused on my painful hip. After my second session, I could tell my gait was different, both running and walking. I'm no longer all herky-jerky, using my body to compensate for my sore, weak, and spastic hip flexor. A few days later, I'm finding that surrounding muscles are sore, because I'm finally using them the way they're supposed to be used. I have made huge progress, but still have a ways to go.
Mostly, I'm just so glad to know that I can feel good again. That I don't have to deal with a bum hip permanently. After 20 months, I had integrated the bad hip into my life, so it's taking some time to un-integrate it. But I'm ready to do the work.
The Charlottesville Marathon was this morning. There's a half-marathon, too. I thought about running it, but really didn't want to mess up the work in progress. But now I know that the marathon - the full 26.2 - is now a matter of when, not if. I'm thinking about going easy this summer, spending lots of time with the kids at the pool, doing the 2 mile Cable Swim in July, then tuning up with a fall half. Then next spring - 26.2 here I come!!
Sunday, April 04, 2010
Proud mama!
Today my boy went on a run with me!
We ran about .4 mi around the neighborhood, taking prudent walk breaks. He lectured me on how to make my muscles stronger. I guess we're rubbing off on each other.
We ran about .4 mi around the neighborhood, taking prudent walk breaks. He lectured me on how to make my muscles stronger. I guess we're rubbing off on each other.
Saturday, April 03, 2010
surprise - race report!
So, I ran the 10 Miler.
I had a great week. Nothing was hurting. Nobody got sick. I ran a lot. So yesterday I decided to pick up my packet. "I can drop out at mile 3, which is a quick walk to the parking lot, or mile 5 which is a couple blocks from my parents' house," I said to myself.
I have never been so mentally unprepared for a race before. Lining up for the start, I still wasn't quite there. And then the national anthem, and then the gun. I ran right past my car, gave it a wave goodbye and followed the crowd. I purposefully started way, way back at the start, and took the first mile in about 12 minutes. (Sorry for the inexact times, but I have this new watch that I still can't quite figure out how to retrieve my splits from.) Second mile in a little less, third mile a little less, and fourth mile in a blazing 10:30. Fifth mile was fast (for me), too - I crossed the half at about 55 minutes.
A little intermission to sing the praises of this race - the cherries and bradford pear trees were in full bloom, the sun was shining, the spectators were out in full force. Little kids handed out water in the neighborhoods, bands played, a church band sang uptempo gospel, the Pink Ladies magically appeared just when hope was waning. This is a fantastic race, so well organized, so well integrated into the fabric of my hometown which I love more than any place on earth. There were even college students in tuxes, and frat boys with signs saying "quitters drink free." Today, despite my best intentions, I will be buying my own drinks.
Miles 6 and 7 are always killers, tons of hills. I think one of those was at 13 minutes and something for me. But there was yet another reason to love this race - there's an official pit stop between 6 and 7, at the Pavilion bathrooms. After taking water from every little cherubic face holding a paper cup with an outstretched arm, I really needed that pit stop!
I crossed mile 8, looked at my watch, and realized that I might break two hours, which I failed to do last year. Not a land speed record by any means, but a nice round number for me.
At the water stop at mile 9, I had more than 14 minutes to go before the two hour mark. At that point, I knew I could break 2 hours, even if I walked the rest of the way.
I didn't walk, and ran across the finish at 1:57:04 by my watch, and about 1:58:30 gun time. I felt like a million bucks, and grinned like an idiot the whole way into the chute.
I should be this unprepared for every race.
Congratulations, my fellow 10 milers, and a big shout out to everyone who makes this race go so smoothly.
I had a great week. Nothing was hurting. Nobody got sick. I ran a lot. So yesterday I decided to pick up my packet. "I can drop out at mile 3, which is a quick walk to the parking lot, or mile 5 which is a couple blocks from my parents' house," I said to myself.
I have never been so mentally unprepared for a race before. Lining up for the start, I still wasn't quite there. And then the national anthem, and then the gun. I ran right past my car, gave it a wave goodbye and followed the crowd. I purposefully started way, way back at the start, and took the first mile in about 12 minutes. (Sorry for the inexact times, but I have this new watch that I still can't quite figure out how to retrieve my splits from.) Second mile in a little less, third mile a little less, and fourth mile in a blazing 10:30. Fifth mile was fast (for me), too - I crossed the half at about 55 minutes.
A little intermission to sing the praises of this race - the cherries and bradford pear trees were in full bloom, the sun was shining, the spectators were out in full force. Little kids handed out water in the neighborhoods, bands played, a church band sang uptempo gospel, the Pink Ladies magically appeared just when hope was waning. This is a fantastic race, so well organized, so well integrated into the fabric of my hometown which I love more than any place on earth. There were even college students in tuxes, and frat boys with signs saying "quitters drink free." Today, despite my best intentions, I will be buying my own drinks.
Miles 6 and 7 are always killers, tons of hills. I think one of those was at 13 minutes and something for me. But there was yet another reason to love this race - there's an official pit stop between 6 and 7, at the Pavilion bathrooms. After taking water from every little cherubic face holding a paper cup with an outstretched arm, I really needed that pit stop!
I crossed mile 8, looked at my watch, and realized that I might break two hours, which I failed to do last year. Not a land speed record by any means, but a nice round number for me.
At the water stop at mile 9, I had more than 14 minutes to go before the two hour mark. At that point, I knew I could break 2 hours, even if I walked the rest of the way.
I didn't walk, and ran across the finish at 1:57:04 by my watch, and about 1:58:30 gun time. I felt like a million bucks, and grinned like an idiot the whole way into the chute.
I should be this unprepared for every race.
Congratulations, my fellow 10 milers, and a big shout out to everyone who makes this race go so smoothly.
Monday, March 29, 2010
looking forward
I heard a little radio bit about the 10 miler this morning, and got suddenly depressed. I am NOT okay with not running it. Two years ago, when I was newly pregnant with Sami and just too sick and exhausted to run it, I cheerfully volunteered on race day. But this year, I'm just going to try to pretend that it's not even going on. It's going to be too hot, anyway.
What gets me the most about this is that there's no one good reason why I'm not running. It's death by a thousand cuts. If I hadn't had the first case of strep, or the second. If I hadn't had the flu on the way back from Vegas. If I hadn't had the hurt toe. If I hadn't pulled my side carrying my luggage through the airport. If my hip hadn't started hurting again. If one of those things, or one of so many other little setbacks hadn't happened, I might be running on Saturday. I wish I could point to one thing and say, this, this is the thing that's keeping me from running. It's none of them, and all of them.
Truthfully, it's crossed my mind more than once to just pick up my packet on Friday and go run. I did 3 miles on Saturday, plus a pretty vigorous athletic conditioning class at the gym that's got to be equivalent to another 3. I feel pretty good right now. A few creaks here and there, but nothing insurmountable. The problem is I just don't have the "hay in the barn" as another running blogger put it. Running 10 miles 2 weeks after a 2 week hiatus, after 3 months of interrupted training is just not smart. Yeah, I could get through Saturday, but at what cost?
My physical happens to be Thursday, and hopefully I'll come out of there with the confidence and PT referral I need to keep my eyes on the road ahead, not just the next step in front of me.
The next round of races that I'm looking toward is fall. Fall is lousy with halfs and fulls around here, plus a smattering of 10K's and the like. It's a long way till then, and without the high of the 10 miler to draw from, it's going to be really tough going to make it through the summer. I'll admit to feeling a little bit lost right now. I run to reach goals, and having not reached my goal, it makes the next one harder to set, let alone reach.
I think I'll take a few days to just wallow in it, but then it's moving on, my eyes up ahead on the road, thinking of autumn.
What gets me the most about this is that there's no one good reason why I'm not running. It's death by a thousand cuts. If I hadn't had the first case of strep, or the second. If I hadn't had the flu on the way back from Vegas. If I hadn't had the hurt toe. If I hadn't pulled my side carrying my luggage through the airport. If my hip hadn't started hurting again. If one of those things, or one of so many other little setbacks hadn't happened, I might be running on Saturday. I wish I could point to one thing and say, this, this is the thing that's keeping me from running. It's none of them, and all of them.
Truthfully, it's crossed my mind more than once to just pick up my packet on Friday and go run. I did 3 miles on Saturday, plus a pretty vigorous athletic conditioning class at the gym that's got to be equivalent to another 3. I feel pretty good right now. A few creaks here and there, but nothing insurmountable. The problem is I just don't have the "hay in the barn" as another running blogger put it. Running 10 miles 2 weeks after a 2 week hiatus, after 3 months of interrupted training is just not smart. Yeah, I could get through Saturday, but at what cost?
My physical happens to be Thursday, and hopefully I'll come out of there with the confidence and PT referral I need to keep my eyes on the road ahead, not just the next step in front of me.
The next round of races that I'm looking toward is fall. Fall is lousy with halfs and fulls around here, plus a smattering of 10K's and the like. It's a long way till then, and without the high of the 10 miler to draw from, it's going to be really tough going to make it through the summer. I'll admit to feeling a little bit lost right now. I run to reach goals, and having not reached my goal, it makes the next one harder to set, let alone reach.
I think I'll take a few days to just wallow in it, but then it's moving on, my eyes up ahead on the road, thinking of autumn.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
I'm *really* not running!
I think the Supportive Husband gave me cooties.
As if the flulike illness wasn't enough, then there was the painful side. As that got better, I realized how much the rest of me hurt from hunching over to compensate. So I booked a massage to fix that. However, just to put the exclamation point at the end of the sentence, my toe started hurting. I went to bed with ten good piggies, and woke up with nine good piggies, and one red, swollen piggy that I can't bend or put weight on. If I had any recollection of any kind of trauma whatsoever, I would totally believe you if you told me it was broken.
So yeah, I'm officially, *officially* not running the Ten Miler, as I am officially not running right now, and haven't run (not even in place!) in over a week.
Say a little prayer for my toe - the weather has turned balmy, and I'm itchy to get back out on the roads and trails!
As if the flulike illness wasn't enough, then there was the painful side. As that got better, I realized how much the rest of me hurt from hunching over to compensate. So I booked a massage to fix that. However, just to put the exclamation point at the end of the sentence, my toe started hurting. I went to bed with ten good piggies, and woke up with nine good piggies, and one red, swollen piggy that I can't bend or put weight on. If I had any recollection of any kind of trauma whatsoever, I would totally believe you if you told me it was broken.
So yeah, I'm officially, *officially* not running the Ten Miler, as I am officially not running right now, and haven't run (not even in place!) in over a week.
Say a little prayer for my toe - the weather has turned balmy, and I'm itchy to get back out on the roads and trails!
Saturday, March 13, 2010
yoinked
Today was the MJH8K, and I didn't run it.
I look forward to this race every year, it is the first reliable sign of spring. After a very long and snowy winter (60 inches of snow, in a place that usually gets about a foot), I *needed* this race. And guess what?
Yeah, I got sick. AGAIN. I've been sick more than well the past few months. It wasn't strep this time, but my symptoms were very similar - fever, aches, sore throat, swollen lymph nodes. The rapid test came out negative, and I haven't heard back on the culture, so that's likely negative, too.
And on top of it all, I pulled a muscle or strained a ligament or otherwise yoinked (that's the technical term) a good portion of my right torso. It's an injury nearly as stupid as the time I tripped going up the steps at the bagel shop and twisted my ankle. Like a total dummy, I messed with perfection and decided to hand carry a duffel bag rather than use my airline pilot wheelie bag when we went to Vegas (with a side trip to Zion National Park) last week. I can only move my right arm in certain directions - getting my shirt and pants on is quite the challenge, and I end up contorting myself like a Cirque du Soleil acrobat to avoid certain movements.
So I'm calling The Supportive Husband's physical therapist on Monday to get myself patched up.
I fully admit to being optimistic to the point of Pollyanna-ism, but my optimism is failing me right now. At this point, I'm just hoping to be able to spend a little time on the recumbent bike tomorrow. Lifting weights is entirely out of the question, as are running and swimming. I can't push either kid in the stroller. I know the 10 miler, 3 weeks away, is a no go for me this year.
And I feel like such a failure. I was totally on track to do it, I had padding built into my training schedule. But all those January and February weekday miles are as useless as our checked bag that never arrived in Vegas. Carefully planned and packed, but if it didn't show up on the baggage carousel, we might as well have never packed it in the first place.
I know, all those miles were good for something, regardless of whether I manage to meet my goals. Overall health and fitness, right? Cold comfort right now, as I sit swaddled in a heating pad.
And in the big scheme of things, a little yoinking really isn't that tragic. It's not like I blew out my knee or got cancer or broke my arm. So tell me to buck up, interwebs. Tell me that tomorrow is fresh with no mistakes in it yet. Tell me to play the glad game!
Tell me that I will kick the 10 miler's ass next year, and the sting of not running it this year will fade fast once I've got that finisher's medal around my neck.
Right?
I look forward to this race every year, it is the first reliable sign of spring. After a very long and snowy winter (60 inches of snow, in a place that usually gets about a foot), I *needed* this race. And guess what?
Yeah, I got sick. AGAIN. I've been sick more than well the past few months. It wasn't strep this time, but my symptoms were very similar - fever, aches, sore throat, swollen lymph nodes. The rapid test came out negative, and I haven't heard back on the culture, so that's likely negative, too.
And on top of it all, I pulled a muscle or strained a ligament or otherwise yoinked (that's the technical term) a good portion of my right torso. It's an injury nearly as stupid as the time I tripped going up the steps at the bagel shop and twisted my ankle. Like a total dummy, I messed with perfection and decided to hand carry a duffel bag rather than use my airline pilot wheelie bag when we went to Vegas (with a side trip to Zion National Park) last week. I can only move my right arm in certain directions - getting my shirt and pants on is quite the challenge, and I end up contorting myself like a Cirque du Soleil acrobat to avoid certain movements.
So I'm calling The Supportive Husband's physical therapist on Monday to get myself patched up.
I fully admit to being optimistic to the point of Pollyanna-ism, but my optimism is failing me right now. At this point, I'm just hoping to be able to spend a little time on the recumbent bike tomorrow. Lifting weights is entirely out of the question, as are running and swimming. I can't push either kid in the stroller. I know the 10 miler, 3 weeks away, is a no go for me this year.
And I feel like such a failure. I was totally on track to do it, I had padding built into my training schedule. But all those January and February weekday miles are as useless as our checked bag that never arrived in Vegas. Carefully planned and packed, but if it didn't show up on the baggage carousel, we might as well have never packed it in the first place.
I know, all those miles were good for something, regardless of whether I manage to meet my goals. Overall health and fitness, right? Cold comfort right now, as I sit swaddled in a heating pad.
And in the big scheme of things, a little yoinking really isn't that tragic. It's not like I blew out my knee or got cancer or broke my arm. So tell me to buck up, interwebs. Tell me that tomorrow is fresh with no mistakes in it yet. Tell me to play the glad game!
Tell me that I will kick the 10 miler's ass next year, and the sting of not running it this year will fade fast once I've got that finisher's medal around my neck.
Right?
Monday, February 22, 2010
Game off!
Strep again... not me....yet. The Supportive Husband was feeling a little off this morning, headed to the doctor, and tested positive for strep. Coincidentally, I had an appointment to get both kids tested for strep today, just in case one of the little darlings was the source of my illnesses. And as it turns out, my dear boy is an asymptomatic carrier. Poor dear, I think he genuinely feels bad about it.
But after schlepping two kids to the doctor, scrambling to find childcare for Typhoid Max, cleaning vomit out of the car after his delayed gag reflex kicked in a mile down the road, running to the pharmacy, making it to work, scrambling to get myself to the doctor to get tested, racing home, making dinner, fetching whatnot for the Sick Husband, putting kids to bed, washing up, making tomorrow's lunches...I look up and it's 9:30pm and I'm preparing for a restless night on the sofabed.
Good lord. Can spring come fast enough?
But after schlepping two kids to the doctor, scrambling to find childcare for Typhoid Max, cleaning vomit out of the car after his delayed gag reflex kicked in a mile down the road, running to the pharmacy, making it to work, scrambling to get myself to the doctor to get tested, racing home, making dinner, fetching whatnot for the Sick Husband, putting kids to bed, washing up, making tomorrow's lunches...I look up and it's 9:30pm and I'm preparing for a restless night on the sofabed.
Good lord. Can spring come fast enough?
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Game on!
Okay, I recovered from my non-running hiccup, and got in a fantastic run and workout this weekend, plus lots midweek mileage, woooooo! I even ran to the gym (about 1.5 miles), took a 1 hour "athletic conditioning" class which involved getting my ass kicked by a sadistic little sprite, and ran home. I am feeling it today!
We had temps in the 50's this weekend, which is pretty normal for us this time of year, but seems so balmy, given the cold and snowy winter we've had. It's been nearly a month since we had a high temp that was at or above average! The snow did some serious melting, and I've got more options for running routes and times (ie before dawn). And the days are getting longer, so soon a 6am run won't be in the pitch black. And with the nicer weather, I don't feel guilty about putting one or both kids in the buggy. We've all been jonesing for a little fresh air, and even Max has been an eager passenger this past week.
My weight has stabilized, and I'm no longer losing and this is a good thing! I am at a weight that 1) looks and feels great and 2) I can actually maintain over the long haul. For the VERY FIRST TIME in my whole life, I feel like my weight is simply another measurement in my assessment of my overall health and fitness. I was totally dragging during a treadmill session and workout at the gym the other day. When I was done, I hopped on the scale, and was down almost two pounds. Instead of thinking "awesome, I'm so skinny and therefore a better person," I immediately though, "I bet I'm dehydrated." Sure enough, I struggled sleepily through the rest of the day, downed 32 ounces (or two pounds) of water after dinner, and perked right back up.
We had temps in the 50's this weekend, which is pretty normal for us this time of year, but seems so balmy, given the cold and snowy winter we've had. It's been nearly a month since we had a high temp that was at or above average! The snow did some serious melting, and I've got more options for running routes and times (ie before dawn). And the days are getting longer, so soon a 6am run won't be in the pitch black. And with the nicer weather, I don't feel guilty about putting one or both kids in the buggy. We've all been jonesing for a little fresh air, and even Max has been an eager passenger this past week.
My weight has stabilized, and I'm no longer losing and this is a good thing! I am at a weight that 1) looks and feels great and 2) I can actually maintain over the long haul. For the VERY FIRST TIME in my whole life, I feel like my weight is simply another measurement in my assessment of my overall health and fitness. I was totally dragging during a treadmill session and workout at the gym the other day. When I was done, I hopped on the scale, and was down almost two pounds. Instead of thinking "awesome, I'm so skinny and therefore a better person," I immediately though, "I bet I'm dehydrated." Sure enough, I struggled sleepily through the rest of the day, downed 32 ounces (or two pounds) of water after dinner, and perked right back up.
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Clunk
.....aaaaaand I'm off the wagon again. Just like that.
I was feeling all fly and buff and powerful. Another snowstorm was forecast to give us 6-12 inches. No big deal. I played in the snow and did a lot of shoveling. And then about an hour later, WHAM, just like that, I was hit with the chills and aches, and my temp spiked to 104 (or higher, I just was so sick I couldn't even take my temp any more), and I spent the rest of the afternoon delirious in bed. By the next morning I was in really bad shape, and got to traverse snow covered roads to go to the ER, where two male nurses and a DO with a ponytail got me all fixed up.
I had strep again. Can you believe it? Turns out, I might need to have my tonsils out. Which is funny because I already had them out in 1986. So I've got an appointment with an ENT coming up to discuss my options. Super.
So, I spent most of this past week recovering. And shoveling, as we had a minor snow event in the middle of the week, and ANOTHER Snowpocalypse this weekend. We had somewhere north of a foot of snow, with a fair bit of sleet mixed in the middle. I'm not really sure. There was so much snow still on the ground from last weekend, that we never did get a good measurement. I have shoveled and shoveled and shoveled. And yet, when I heard the gym was going to be open today, I actually went. Did a little speedwork on the treadmill, lifted weights, did abs, and stretched. And spent a long time rolling around on my back on the foam roller. Aaaaaaah.
The roads around here are in good shape, but the sidewalks aren't. And there are tall snowbanks on the side of the road, so running in the early morning (ie in the dark) is a very, very bad idea. I can hit the gym early, I guess. Or try to get back into the lunchtime gym routine. And shoveling (especially with the baby on my back) has turned out to be some awesome cardio. But at some point, I need to get some real road miles in.
Did I mention we've got another snow storm coming on Tuesday?
I was feeling all fly and buff and powerful. Another snowstorm was forecast to give us 6-12 inches. No big deal. I played in the snow and did a lot of shoveling. And then about an hour later, WHAM, just like that, I was hit with the chills and aches, and my temp spiked to 104 (or higher, I just was so sick I couldn't even take my temp any more), and I spent the rest of the afternoon delirious in bed. By the next morning I was in really bad shape, and got to traverse snow covered roads to go to the ER, where two male nurses and a DO with a ponytail got me all fixed up.
I had strep again. Can you believe it? Turns out, I might need to have my tonsils out. Which is funny because I already had them out in 1986. So I've got an appointment with an ENT coming up to discuss my options. Super.
So, I spent most of this past week recovering. And shoveling, as we had a minor snow event in the middle of the week, and ANOTHER Snowpocalypse this weekend. We had somewhere north of a foot of snow, with a fair bit of sleet mixed in the middle. I'm not really sure. There was so much snow still on the ground from last weekend, that we never did get a good measurement. I have shoveled and shoveled and shoveled. And yet, when I heard the gym was going to be open today, I actually went. Did a little speedwork on the treadmill, lifted weights, did abs, and stretched. And spent a long time rolling around on my back on the foam roller. Aaaaaaah.
The roads around here are in good shape, but the sidewalks aren't. And there are tall snowbanks on the side of the road, so running in the early morning (ie in the dark) is a very, very bad idea. I can hit the gym early, I guess. Or try to get back into the lunchtime gym routine. And shoveling (especially with the baby on my back) has turned out to be some awesome cardio. But at some point, I need to get some real road miles in.
Did I mention we've got another snow storm coming on Tuesday?
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Lightening the load
May I celebrate a moment? I am at my goal weight. I have a 5-lb range, actually, and I'm smack in the middle of it. Truthfully, I didn't think this was a weight I could really maintain over the long haul. But since it's been more than two months since the baby weaned, and I've held this weight for four months, I think I can say that yes, this is a realistic weight for me. The last time I saw this weight was before I got pregnant. The first time. Six years ago. Okay, I was at and even below this weight for about 30 seconds my highest-mileage week when I was still nursing Max. And I was miserably hungry.
But this time, I didn't kill myself to get here. I gave up packaged cookies. I started upping my activity level around the time the baby weaned. And that's pretty much it. Mostly, I am just working hard on becoming stronger and faster, and the goal weight is a nice side effect.
I've also realized that it is time for me to give up, or at least put aside, my beloved CamelBak FlashFlo. It's just too much to haul around all the time. With my nursing days behind me now, I don't need 54 oz of water for a 10 mile run (plus all the attendant crap I got used to carrying in the pack). I've downsized to a SPIbelt, and one of those water bottles with a strap for your hand. I did get the double SPIbelt, though, mostly because my energy of choice is ShotBloks, which aren't easily strapped to anything. They need a pocket.
(And sadly, no, neither CamelBak nor SPIbelt are sponsors of this blog in any way, though I love them both dearly.)
So then end result is I'm hauling around a few ounces less than I have been. I don't know if I'll gain any speed out of it, but both my body and mind are happier for it.
But this time, I didn't kill myself to get here. I gave up packaged cookies. I started upping my activity level around the time the baby weaned. And that's pretty much it. Mostly, I am just working hard on becoming stronger and faster, and the goal weight is a nice side effect.
I've also realized that it is time for me to give up, or at least put aside, my beloved CamelBak FlashFlo. It's just too much to haul around all the time. With my nursing days behind me now, I don't need 54 oz of water for a 10 mile run (plus all the attendant crap I got used to carrying in the pack). I've downsized to a SPIbelt, and one of those water bottles with a strap for your hand. I did get the double SPIbelt, though, mostly because my energy of choice is ShotBloks, which aren't easily strapped to anything. They need a pocket.
(And sadly, no, neither CamelBak nor SPIbelt are sponsors of this blog in any way, though I love them both dearly.)
So then end result is I'm hauling around a few ounces less than I have been. I don't know if I'll gain any speed out of it, but both my body and mind are happier for it.
Click
Sometimes it all just clicks into place.
This past week, I was able to train my plan for the first time in years. YEARS. I am not exaggerating. That is what life is when you have a kid or two and a job.
I am healthy. I am uninjured. My kids are reasonably healthy (though the baby did vomit all over me while we were waiting at the pharmacy for antibiotics for her ear infection). It's The Supportive Husband's off season. The kids are sleeping well. There's no more snow on the ground, and the weather, though cold, hasn't been too bad.
I will admit to switching a run for a swim when I got the gym and realized that I didn't have a sports bra in my gym bag. But, that's why I always keep a swimsuit and goggles in my bag.
I squeezed in a run on my lunch hour. I got up in the pitch black darkness. I pushed my run till 10am to fit the schedule of my new running group, but got there early and put in an extra mile or two. I ran to the gym, lifted weights, and ran home. I did the most amazing core workout watching The Biggest Loser. Click, click, click, click. All the pieces just settled right in, and it almost seemed effortless. Almost.
Weeks like these are so rare. It feels awesome to be ahead of the curve training for the 10 Miler. This time last year I was barely training. My hip was in pain every time I took a step, and I was about to come down with walking pneumonia. Oh yeah. and I was nursing a 2 month old.
So I'm writing about this week not for you, the two of you who read my blog (hi Mo and Robine). I'm writing this for me, so I can remember that even if I only get weeks like this once every two years, I DO get weeks like this. They're out there, and there is hope for making a plan and sticking to it.
This past week, I was able to train my plan for the first time in years. YEARS. I am not exaggerating. That is what life is when you have a kid or two and a job.
I am healthy. I am uninjured. My kids are reasonably healthy (though the baby did vomit all over me while we were waiting at the pharmacy for antibiotics for her ear infection). It's The Supportive Husband's off season. The kids are sleeping well. There's no more snow on the ground, and the weather, though cold, hasn't been too bad.
I will admit to switching a run for a swim when I got the gym and realized that I didn't have a sports bra in my gym bag. But, that's why I always keep a swimsuit and goggles in my bag.
I squeezed in a run on my lunch hour. I got up in the pitch black darkness. I pushed my run till 10am to fit the schedule of my new running group, but got there early and put in an extra mile or two. I ran to the gym, lifted weights, and ran home. I did the most amazing core workout watching The Biggest Loser. Click, click, click, click. All the pieces just settled right in, and it almost seemed effortless. Almost.
Weeks like these are so rare. It feels awesome to be ahead of the curve training for the 10 Miler. This time last year I was barely training. My hip was in pain every time I took a step, and I was about to come down with walking pneumonia. Oh yeah. and I was nursing a 2 month old.
So I'm writing about this week not for you, the two of you who read my blog (hi Mo and Robine). I'm writing this for me, so I can remember that even if I only get weeks like this once every two years, I DO get weeks like this. They're out there, and there is hope for making a plan and sticking to it.
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Come ON!
So, I was sick AGAIN. I have been sick - sick enough to not be able to work out at all, let alone run in the cold, for 3 of the last 6 weeks. This is crazy! Stomach bug this time. Nuff said.
Anyway, pounding vitamins C and D, eating my greens, and washing my hands till they crack. And setting my alarm for dark-thirty tomorrow morning. Of course, with snow expected tonight, I'm not sure if I'll actually be able to run or even drive to the gym at that hour. But damned if I'm not going to do SOMETHING tomorrow. Because all this sitting around is exhausting.
Anyway, pounding vitamins C and D, eating my greens, and washing my hands till they crack. And setting my alarm for dark-thirty tomorrow morning. Of course, with snow expected tonight, I'm not sure if I'll actually be able to run or even drive to the gym at that hour. But damned if I'm not going to do SOMETHING tomorrow. Because all this sitting around is exhausting.
Friday, January 01, 2010
non-race report - NYD5K
Because the snow rendered the field used for parking impassable, the New Year's Day 5K was cancelled. I was crushed - it is one of my favorite races! I always look forward to starting the new year right - running in the cold, dreaming of PR's.
So Louise and I did our own 5-ishK this morning instead. At 8:10, five minutes before our scheduled meetup time, I was having serious regrets. The Supportive Husband and I had been out past midnight, communing with our inner gypsy punks at the Gogol Bordello show.
I haven't run outside since I came down with a nasty cold made worse by two days of nonstop snow shoveling. The cold air made my airway feel "itchy." So I've been doing the treadmill at the gym, but since I can only manage about 3/4 mile before I die of boredom, I've been running 1/2 mile, hopping on the bike, running 1/2 mile, lifting weights, running 1/2 mile, doing abs, running 1/2 mile, and stretching. So I was a little apprehensive about how my body would take to running three whole miles all in one stretch.
I shouldn't have been worried. I felt great. Mad props to Louise for poking along at my conversational pace, which I know she can do while reading a book and carrying a baby. My hip tightened up a little at the very end, but otherwise I have no complaints. Airway felt fine.
No complaints - no excuses. Hello, twenty-ten!
So Louise and I did our own 5-ishK this morning instead. At 8:10, five minutes before our scheduled meetup time, I was having serious regrets. The Supportive Husband and I had been out past midnight, communing with our inner gypsy punks at the Gogol Bordello show.
I haven't run outside since I came down with a nasty cold made worse by two days of nonstop snow shoveling. The cold air made my airway feel "itchy." So I've been doing the treadmill at the gym, but since I can only manage about 3/4 mile before I die of boredom, I've been running 1/2 mile, hopping on the bike, running 1/2 mile, lifting weights, running 1/2 mile, doing abs, running 1/2 mile, and stretching. So I was a little apprehensive about how my body would take to running three whole miles all in one stretch.
I shouldn't have been worried. I felt great. Mad props to Louise for poking along at my conversational pace, which I know she can do while reading a book and carrying a baby. My hip tightened up a little at the very end, but otherwise I have no complaints. Airway felt fine.
No complaints - no excuses. Hello, twenty-ten!
Monday, December 21, 2009
NOW can I get my medal?
I'm submitting this photo with my mother of the year nomination form.
Record breaking snowfall in these parts! It was up to my thighs, so no running the past few days, though, as you can see above, I've had plenty of vigorous exercise. And I'm paying for it. My head cold has morphed into some crazy airway thing, but hopefully a little rest and I'll be good as new. Because being snowbound with two kids underfoot is so restful, right?
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Ah, heck
Long run? What's that?
I've been struck by a cold! A mild cold, but I'm so stuffy, I can't sleep well, and breathing is tough. So I've been sticking mostly to the gym this week, which means the dreadmill and the bike. For some reason, I can hardly bear a mile on the treadmill, but can go and go and go on the stationary bike, so I've been putting in lots of bike miles. Today, feeling particularly lousy, I managed to look wearily at the treadmill, but I did 7 miles on the bike. So, there you go. Not necessarily the most hardcore, badass workout I could have done, but it beats sitting on the sofa wallowing in self pity. And for about 4 hours after my workout, I felt a lot better - things drained, I didn't feel freezing cold, and I was breathing easier.
But now I'm all stuffed up again, and my nose is chapped. But, I don't feel too awful, so I'm hoping to get back in the swing of things soon. I had a really awesome morning run in the dark the other day that made me feel like a million bucks. I couldn't find my headlamp, so it was particularly dark. There were lots of Christmas lights and porch lights on, though, and I used my cellphone for a little extra illumination when I needed it. But all that dark took me out of my body a little bit, in a good way. Rather than running the same scripts in my head, I had something else to ponder. I felt light and swift, and by the time I had put in just under 3 miles, I felt I could do anything.
I was glad to have had that run just before coming down with this cold. It really inspired me to go back to getting up early to run, even if it's dark. I had no other responsibilities. For the first time in a long time, it was just me and road. Looking back on my blog posts from marathon training, it seems they're all about how I didn't do the workout I planned, or how I was battling back from the latest daycare sickness. I had all that going on - and I was nursing!! - and I still managed to run a marathon. I can certainly find room in my life for 13.2. I'm a better mom, a better wife, and a better person when I inhabit a strong, fit body. It's worth going to the gym when I'm sick, it's worth waking up so early that my whole run is in the pitch black. Even more than being worth it, it's a gift.
I've been struck by a cold! A mild cold, but I'm so stuffy, I can't sleep well, and breathing is tough. So I've been sticking mostly to the gym this week, which means the dreadmill and the bike. For some reason, I can hardly bear a mile on the treadmill, but can go and go and go on the stationary bike, so I've been putting in lots of bike miles. Today, feeling particularly lousy, I managed to look wearily at the treadmill, but I did 7 miles on the bike. So, there you go. Not necessarily the most hardcore, badass workout I could have done, but it beats sitting on the sofa wallowing in self pity. And for about 4 hours after my workout, I felt a lot better - things drained, I didn't feel freezing cold, and I was breathing easier.
But now I'm all stuffed up again, and my nose is chapped. But, I don't feel too awful, so I'm hoping to get back in the swing of things soon. I had a really awesome morning run in the dark the other day that made me feel like a million bucks. I couldn't find my headlamp, so it was particularly dark. There were lots of Christmas lights and porch lights on, though, and I used my cellphone for a little extra illumination when I needed it. But all that dark took me out of my body a little bit, in a good way. Rather than running the same scripts in my head, I had something else to ponder. I felt light and swift, and by the time I had put in just under 3 miles, I felt I could do anything.
I was glad to have had that run just before coming down with this cold. It really inspired me to go back to getting up early to run, even if it's dark. I had no other responsibilities. For the first time in a long time, it was just me and road. Looking back on my blog posts from marathon training, it seems they're all about how I didn't do the workout I planned, or how I was battling back from the latest daycare sickness. I had all that going on - and I was nursing!! - and I still managed to run a marathon. I can certainly find room in my life for 13.2. I'm a better mom, a better wife, and a better person when I inhabit a strong, fit body. It's worth going to the gym when I'm sick, it's worth waking up so early that my whole run is in the pitch black. Even more than being worth it, it's a gift.
Sunday, December 06, 2009
beat
I'm beat. The day after my fun Turkey Trot, I started feeling not so hot. I figured it was just a little cold. I was wrong. I ended up with some strep-like infection with a side of mastitis that resulted in a fever topping out at 105 and that bought me 10 days worth of strong penicillin. My tummy is not handling it very well, and even though I'm pretty well over whatever infection I had, my electrolytes are still out of whack, and where last week I was pushing the buggy through some of the most extreme hills and feeling happy about it, this week even a walk around the block requires forethought and contingency plans. I'm continuing to improve, and am planning on at least hitting the bike at the gym on Tuesday, with the goal of doing a "long" run of at least four miles this weekend.
So yeah, another setback. But, the 10 miler is four months away so I have at least a little while to get my shit together. The Supportive Husband is on notice that I need some Saturday mornings free and clear for long runs. And my body is on notice as well! The girls have been very cooperative and have settled right down since weaning - I'm FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I can throw away the industrial strength running bras and go back to my comfy Target cheapies. And so far my weight is holding steady, so I'm hopeful the 10 pounds extra I lost will stay lost. It feels good to be at my fighting weight and I *know* it helps my running.
So yeah, another setback. But, the 10 miler is four months away so I have at least a little while to get my shit together. The Supportive Husband is on notice that I need some Saturday mornings free and clear for long runs. And my body is on notice as well! The girls have been very cooperative and have settled right down since weaning - I'm FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I can throw away the industrial strength running bras and go back to my comfy Target cheapies. And so far my weight is holding steady, so I'm hopeful the 10 pounds extra I lost will stay lost. It feels good to be at my fighting weight and I *know* it helps my running.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Happy Turkey Trot Day!
I've been laying low, running-wise, knowing that weaning Sami would signal the start of training for spring races. This morning I ran the Turkey Trot. I had zero expectations - I was pushing Sami in the buggy, and have been doing precious little running. A couple of miles on the treadmill at lunch every now and again. No training to speak of, and no pushing kids in the buggy! And most importantly - I didn't have my pre-race nightmare. I did have a real-life nightmare, when I realized I had missed packet pickup, but it turns out that packet pickup continued through Wednesday, even though it was only schedule for Monday and Tuesday.
For whatever reason, my body loves this crazy, insanely hilly course. And I set a PR!! Not a "real" PR - I am truly light years away from that right now. But I set my buggy-pushing 5K PR - I beat my time from two years ago by 10 seconds!! Really, I was hardly exerting myself at all. I spent the first .75 mi caught up in the throng of non-runners, unable to maneuver through with the buggy. I stopped a few times to chat with friends. I took lots of walk breaks. My first mile was just shy of 16 min. I hit mile 2 at 29:30, and crossed the finish at 42:29. Hello, negative splits!! Am I really running faster by going slower? It appears to be so!
It was very encouraging to unexpectedly post this time. I know, 13 min miles are nothing to crow about. But I felt great, and I know now I've still got some legs on me.
I desperately need new shoes, and a new watch. I lost my cheap, plastic, 10 year old watch a few months ago, and not knowing what my pace is at any given time is a little frustrating, even at a fun run. And my shoes are nearly a year old (sinful!!), and really don't fit right. I got sweet talked in to buying narrows, and they're too narrow. I'm sorely tempted to try the new Nikes that are for overpronaters, but don't have the traditional bulkiness of stability/motion control shoes.
No black Friday shopping for me - it's Buy Nothing day, after all, but I'll be down at the shop sooner or later. I have a pocket full of coupons and I'm not afraid to use them.
For whatever reason, my body loves this crazy, insanely hilly course. And I set a PR!! Not a "real" PR - I am truly light years away from that right now. But I set my buggy-pushing 5K PR - I beat my time from two years ago by 10 seconds!! Really, I was hardly exerting myself at all. I spent the first .75 mi caught up in the throng of non-runners, unable to maneuver through with the buggy. I stopped a few times to chat with friends. I took lots of walk breaks. My first mile was just shy of 16 min. I hit mile 2 at 29:30, and crossed the finish at 42:29. Hello, negative splits!! Am I really running faster by going slower? It appears to be so!
It was very encouraging to unexpectedly post this time. I know, 13 min miles are nothing to crow about. But I felt great, and I know now I've still got some legs on me.
I desperately need new shoes, and a new watch. I lost my cheap, plastic, 10 year old watch a few months ago, and not knowing what my pace is at any given time is a little frustrating, even at a fun run. And my shoes are nearly a year old (sinful!!), and really don't fit right. I got sweet talked in to buying narrows, and they're too narrow. I'm sorely tempted to try the new Nikes that are for overpronaters, but don't have the traditional bulkiness of stability/motion control shoes.
No black Friday shopping for me - it's Buy Nothing day, after all, but I'll be down at the shop sooner or later. I have a pocket full of coupons and I'm not afraid to use them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)