'Twas the night before race day and all through the town, yada yada.
Tomorrow is the Four Miler! Woo! And I am soooo crabby. I have had a cold, and haven't been able to really run or to swim all week, though I did do a LOT of walking. After work today, I braved packet pickup. This is a four mile race in a small city, and they need multiple people directing vehicular traffic at PACKET PICKUP. Yes, this is a big deal here. Almost 5% of the area's women run this race, by my estimation. Though I'm a native, this is my first time running this race. But oddly enough, it was this race that got me to run the marathon last year.
When Max was just 8 weeks old, I headed to the shop to get a new pair of running shoes. I had a crazy idea that I might run a half marathon. After all, I had 8 months, and IronMo was about to do her SECOND IronMan and had just qualified for Boston. While I was there, I asked about training programs, and Mark looked at my squishy, postpartum bod, and the baby in the carrier, and said, gee, the Four Miler program would be just perfect. And I was so mortally offended that someone would think that I needed to wake up early every single Saturday morning for 3 months just to go four little miles, that I immediately decided that yes, I absolutely MUST do a marathon. So I did. Simple as that.
Now please don't think that I am belittling anyone's accomplishment at running the Four Miler. I am not. And it is a big deal! Go, sisters!! But for me, with my crazy postpartum hormones, and my stubborn, Capricorn disposition, four miles just wasn't worth getting up early for. Go big or go home, right?
The irony in all this is that I *am* running it tomorrow, and I am nervous as all get out. I might not have been this nervous for Richmond last year. I'm so anxious about the crowded course, about trying to pace myself, and really doing my best, despite my recent injury and illness. And quite frankly, I'm nervous about the huge, rah-rah group of runners. While I like a little company on a run as much as anyone, I don't relish the thought of running with 2699 women who are having the culminating event of a very long journey. I like running for the same reason I like swimming - they are fake team sports. Like, if you're on, say, a field hockey team (which I was back in the day), you have to maintain a certain baseline level of good communication with your teammates. When you run or swim, you're all in it together, but for the most part you can just shut up and go to your happy place without inviting 2699 other women.
But, as always, go big or go home. So I'm going out tomorrow to break 42:00, a 10:30 pace. Wish me luck. And if you see me on the course, just keep right on going. I'll talk to you when I'm done running.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Monday, August 27, 2007
Feelin' scratchy
Lots of extenuating circumstances today, not the least of which is a scratchy throat and general sinus-y feeling. Could it be the ragweed? The mold? A back to school cold? Who knows. But I took a long walk out in the sunshine instead of running and lifting, enjoyed the mountain views and didn't feel guilty about it. Some workouts are good for the body, others are good for the soul.
And in case you were wondering, I'm an INTJ.
And in case you were wondering, I'm an INTJ.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Seven super miles!
Seven at the track. But first, I had to get up extra early, load the coolers and gatorade, and set them up. It was actually not a bad warmup to haul 3 full coolers and a couple gallons of gatorade from my car to the setup point. I was all done setting up by 6, and had plenty of time to socialize and stretch before the run.
After a relatively mild week, it was supposed to get up to 100 today, and the low this morning was around 70, so I made sure to keep on top of the Endurolytes.
2.2 mile hilly warmup. Followed by 4x800 with hills in between, then a 400. I was supposed to run 5:45, 5:15, 5:15, 4:55, and 2:15 or 2:20 on the 400. Oh, and guess what? It's actually a metric track. Who knew?!
I screwed up my math and did 5:20 on the first 800. Then I screwed it up the other way and did 5:17. Then 5:14 (yay!!), 4:54, and, drumroll please, 2:12!!! I just blew it out on the last stretch of the 400. My fingers (and all of me, really) were sweaty and slippery, and it took some fumbling to hit the button on my watch, but it read 2:12.94 when I stopped it. I didn't reset my watch, hoping to keep my kick-ass time there, but I accidentally hit the button again somewhere in the loading/unloading process, gosh darn it.
Other than that, the run was great. I had NO PAIN in my foot for the first time in over a month. Between not having pain, having gotten up a little earlier and done some heavy lifting prior, and accidentally buying caffeinated Shot Bloks, I felt AWESOME.
Anyway, after the run, I shot the breeze waiting for the last of the long runners to come back in. The other person on water duty accidentally emptied the last cooler before everyone was done, oops. We thought everyone was back, but it turned out there were a few doing a cooldown on the warmup route. Luckily, it appeared that band practice or something was starting in the school building, so it was open for water and a/c if anyone needed it. But I felt pretty guilty, especially since I'd made a big effort to have abundant cold (and clean) water and gatorade. The gatorade all got drunk, but there was plenty of water left, at least a gallon or two in each of the three coolers.
On the way home, I realized I'd said "see ya next week!!" to just about everyone when I'm actually not doing the long run with the group, but the Women's Four Miler instead. It's my first time, and I'm really excited, though dreading the traffic and crowds.
After a relatively mild week, it was supposed to get up to 100 today, and the low this morning was around 70, so I made sure to keep on top of the Endurolytes.
2.2 mile hilly warmup. Followed by 4x800 with hills in between, then a 400. I was supposed to run 5:45, 5:15, 5:15, 4:55, and 2:15 or 2:20 on the 400. Oh, and guess what? It's actually a metric track. Who knew?!
I screwed up my math and did 5:20 on the first 800. Then I screwed it up the other way and did 5:17. Then 5:14 (yay!!), 4:54, and, drumroll please, 2:12!!! I just blew it out on the last stretch of the 400. My fingers (and all of me, really) were sweaty and slippery, and it took some fumbling to hit the button on my watch, but it read 2:12.94 when I stopped it. I didn't reset my watch, hoping to keep my kick-ass time there, but I accidentally hit the button again somewhere in the loading/unloading process, gosh darn it.
Other than that, the run was great. I had NO PAIN in my foot for the first time in over a month. Between not having pain, having gotten up a little earlier and done some heavy lifting prior, and accidentally buying caffeinated Shot Bloks, I felt AWESOME.
Anyway, after the run, I shot the breeze waiting for the last of the long runners to come back in. The other person on water duty accidentally emptied the last cooler before everyone was done, oops. We thought everyone was back, but it turned out there were a few doing a cooldown on the warmup route. Luckily, it appeared that band practice or something was starting in the school building, so it was open for water and a/c if anyone needed it. But I felt pretty guilty, especially since I'd made a big effort to have abundant cold (and clean) water and gatorade. The gatorade all got drunk, but there was plenty of water left, at least a gallon or two in each of the three coolers.
On the way home, I realized I'd said "see ya next week!!" to just about everyone when I'm actually not doing the long run with the group, but the Women's Four Miler instead. It's my first time, and I'm really excited, though dreading the traffic and crowds.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Catching up
I didn't get around to blogging about last week (lots of walking and a fantastic swim on Fri) or about Saturday's run. Nothing exciting - no bears this time. There was a tiny dog (looked to be part Chihuahua and part MinPin, and maybe part rodent) who was extremely vocally enthusiastic about guarding his turf, but other than that, nothing eventful, wildlife-wise. I had some more issues with my foot. I felt great, like Tony the Tiger "Grrrrrreat!" for the first five miles. Then mile six, and my foot started cramping and the rest of the ten miles pretty much sucked. Lots of walking and grimacing. Two groups of people were concerned enough to stop and ask if I needed a ride the rest of the way. Which made me even grumpier. But, Keene was lovely, even if it did take almost 45 minutes to drive there.
On Monday, I did about 2.5 on the treadmill, yesterday I ran 2 pushing the stroller, and tonight I did a quick mile or so loop. There just aren't enough hours in the day to do the kind of mileage I'd like. Oh, and I weighed myself at the gym, and found that I weigh more now than I ever have when not pregnant or postpartum. I feel like a hobbled, squishy slob, and that's no fun. So I've resolved to do some kind of exercise every day, and cut out all the snicky snacking. No food after 8:30pm, which means cutting way back on my beloved milk and cookies.
Saturday I'm on water duty for the run - I lucked out and got the track, which means I don't have to get up in the middle of the night to mark Dick Woods and then hang out for four hours till everyone finishes their long runs. I picked up the coolers today, and discovered that two of them had not been rinsed or dried after the last time they were used, and they were FOUL. Half an hour of vigorous scrubbing with hot, soapy water has left them squeaky clean, and I've got the dishpan hands to prove it.
On Monday, I did about 2.5 on the treadmill, yesterday I ran 2 pushing the stroller, and tonight I did a quick mile or so loop. There just aren't enough hours in the day to do the kind of mileage I'd like. Oh, and I weighed myself at the gym, and found that I weigh more now than I ever have when not pregnant or postpartum. I feel like a hobbled, squishy slob, and that's no fun. So I've resolved to do some kind of exercise every day, and cut out all the snicky snacking. No food after 8:30pm, which means cutting way back on my beloved milk and cookies.
Saturday I'm on water duty for the run - I lucked out and got the track, which means I don't have to get up in the middle of the night to mark Dick Woods and then hang out for four hours till everyone finishes their long runs. I picked up the coolers today, and discovered that two of them had not been rinsed or dried after the last time they were used, and they were FOUL. Half an hour of vigorous scrubbing with hot, soapy water has left them squeaky clean, and I've got the dishpan hands to prove it.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
6 miles
Six miles up at Whitehall Vineyard. I was shocked to see only 6 on my program for this Saturday, but given the heat and humidity, and my foot issues, I welcomed the break.
I rolled in at (by my watch) exactly 6:15, but the course markers had already finished their spiel and as I hopped out of my car, everyone was just taking off. I ran by myself, which is beginning to be more comfortable. It's time to let my brain do its thing without the pressure of making conversation. The first 1.5 are incredibly hilly, but I did a respectable 23:00 for the first two miles. Mile 3 took me along the Moorman's River up toward the dam at Sugar Hollow. The river was feeling the effects of the drought, and was little more than a gully full of damp rocks. Despite that, I saw 1 heron, 1 magnificent buck, 1 newt, several bluebirds and a bear!
Yes, a bear. Black bears are fairly common around here, but it's still a shock to see one up close. I had turned around at mile 3, and was trotting on down the road when I saw what looked like a giant black dog in the road. It turned its face toward me and I realized it was a bear that had come up from the river. It headed up the bank on the opposite side of the road, thought better of it, turned back and headed back down. I wondered if it wasn't a mama scoping out the other side of the road for her cubs. Thought black bears are (usually) quite docile, I stopped and made sure that I wouldn't be between the bear and any cubs. Even with the complete stop, I still ran mile 4 in 10:20, by far my fastest mile of the morning. Maybe I just need potentially deadly animals stationed every so often along the course to spur me to reach my goals.
My arch still hurts. I think it's time to head back to the shop and try something else. At this point, I'm willing to experiment a little - I don't think I'll be any worse off trying something new than I am right now.
I rolled in at (by my watch) exactly 6:15, but the course markers had already finished their spiel and as I hopped out of my car, everyone was just taking off. I ran by myself, which is beginning to be more comfortable. It's time to let my brain do its thing without the pressure of making conversation. The first 1.5 are incredibly hilly, but I did a respectable 23:00 for the first two miles. Mile 3 took me along the Moorman's River up toward the dam at Sugar Hollow. The river was feeling the effects of the drought, and was little more than a gully full of damp rocks. Despite that, I saw 1 heron, 1 magnificent buck, 1 newt, several bluebirds and a bear!
Yes, a bear. Black bears are fairly common around here, but it's still a shock to see one up close. I had turned around at mile 3, and was trotting on down the road when I saw what looked like a giant black dog in the road. It turned its face toward me and I realized it was a bear that had come up from the river. It headed up the bank on the opposite side of the road, thought better of it, turned back and headed back down. I wondered if it wasn't a mama scoping out the other side of the road for her cubs. Thought black bears are (usually) quite docile, I stopped and made sure that I wouldn't be between the bear and any cubs. Even with the complete stop, I still ran mile 4 in 10:20, by far my fastest mile of the morning. Maybe I just need potentially deadly animals stationed every so often along the course to spur me to reach my goals.
My arch still hurts. I think it's time to head back to the shop and try something else. At this point, I'm willing to experiment a little - I don't think I'll be any worse off trying something new than I am right now.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
A swim
It's too hot to run. Plus, I'm trying to take it a little easy to help my foot recover. All the new shoes seem to be working, and I haven't felt any pain at all since Sunday, hooray!!
I hit the pool at lunch. Everyone must have had the same idea, because both lanes were circle swimming. I picked the slow side, and hopped in. The two folks on the slow side were waaaaaaay slow, but I made a game of it. I'd wait till the first one was nearly back to the wall, then push off and swim a hard 50, or as far as it took to almost overtake them. Then I'd rest for a sec while they made it almost back around, and do another hard 50. I did pass one of them at some point, and I also did about 100 worth of drills. Total was around 900, I think, not bad for a lunchtime swim, especially considering I was in the slow lane.
It's supposed to be 100 tomorrow, and in the 90's the rest of the week. So until Saturday's early run, it's the pool or the treadmill for me.
I hit the pool at lunch. Everyone must have had the same idea, because both lanes were circle swimming. I picked the slow side, and hopped in. The two folks on the slow side were waaaaaaay slow, but I made a game of it. I'd wait till the first one was nearly back to the wall, then push off and swim a hard 50, or as far as it took to almost overtake them. Then I'd rest for a sec while they made it almost back around, and do another hard 50. I did pass one of them at some point, and I also did about 100 worth of drills. Total was around 900, I think, not bad for a lunchtime swim, especially considering I was in the slow lane.
It's supposed to be 100 tomorrow, and in the 90's the rest of the week. So until Saturday's early run, it's the pool or the treadmill for me.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
World Breastfeeding Week
If you've been reading my blog for a while, you know that I trained for and ran the 2006 Richmond Marathon as a new mom, with a breastfeeding infant. So I feel it is my obligation to remind all my readers (all 3 of you) about World Breastfeeding Week this week. Lots of women can't breastfeed for various reasons, but most can. It is without a doubt nature's perfect food for a newborn. Not to mention it is free, clean, and environmentally friendly. Yes, breastfeeding requires dedication: the early days can be painful and confusing, and being the sole provider of nourishment for your child can be a big burden. So to all you mamas to be, educate yourself *before* the baby comes about breastfeeding, common problems, and how to avoid them. Your hospital's lactation consultant is a good resource, as is La Leche League, kellymom.com, and your friends and family.
As mothers, so much of what we do is undone in an instant - the laundry gets washed and folded, only to be dirty again; it takes all afternoon to make dinner, but it's eaten in a flash, leaving only a sinkful of dirty dishes. For me, running a marathon was a way to achieve something that couldn't be undone. I am, and forever will be, a marathoner. Breastfeeding is the same way. It is something I did for my son that can never be undone. He is, and forever will be, a breastfed baby.
As mothers, so much of what we do is undone in an instant - the laundry gets washed and folded, only to be dirty again; it takes all afternoon to make dinner, but it's eaten in a flash, leaving only a sinkful of dirty dishes. For me, running a marathon was a way to achieve something that couldn't be undone. I am, and forever will be, a marathoner. Breastfeeding is the same way. It is something I did for my son that can never be undone. He is, and forever will be, a breastfed baby.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
8 miles
It was almost a relief when the alarm went off at 5:30. I'd been having a terrible nightmare about competing in a triathlon. The order was backward and the swim was last. It was utter chaos in the pool. And then they started draining the water so I had to swim through air. It was very difficult.
And then off to Dick Woods Road. As usual, I straggled in at precisely 6:15, and had to park way the heck down Miller School Road. I missed most of Mark's speech, but figured it consisted mostly of "start out slow" and "stay hydrated." And OMG, Cynthia Lorenzoni was there. She's training for Richmond, her first marathon in over 20 years. I've seen her at the shop and she's even helped me with my shoes a couple of times. Talk about Mama Marathon - she's got 4 kids!
The group was huge, and the start was a madhouse. I think I've been in races with fewer entrants. I ran pretty much on my own, though. The first three miles were fine, albeit unbelievably muggy. Not long before the second water stop, my arch really started hurting, and I half-ran, half-hobbled into the water stop. I decided to keep going, to make the full 4 out, then turned back.
Just after mile 5, everything started to click, sore foot and all. I was almost entirely alone, since the marathoners were all doing high mileage, and were doing the full 7 to the end of Dick Woods. Mentally, I was somewhere I hadn't been since my airline days. Every now and then, you'd have one of those days where you knew what was going to happen a split second before it did. Your grip on the yoke relaxed, and you controlled the airplane almost by telekinesis - just the thought of how you wanted the airplane to move would make it happen. Every noise, from ATC to the FO's checklists, to the movement of the flaps and the gear, to the automated callouts, to the faint sound of the FA addressing the passengers, seemed perfectly orchestrated, and perfectly clear. The airplane and the gauges and the wind and the runway and the pilot are all part of the same intention. No matter what the crosswind or weather, the plane would cross the threshold exactly on track and on speed, and just a breath of pressure on the controls, and first the upwind wheel, then the downwind wheel, and then the nosewheel would engage the runway in a soft, slow kiss.
And that's what I felt for the last two miles this morning.
And then off to Dick Woods Road. As usual, I straggled in at precisely 6:15, and had to park way the heck down Miller School Road. I missed most of Mark's speech, but figured it consisted mostly of "start out slow" and "stay hydrated." And OMG, Cynthia Lorenzoni was there. She's training for Richmond, her first marathon in over 20 years. I've seen her at the shop and she's even helped me with my shoes a couple of times. Talk about Mama Marathon - she's got 4 kids!
The group was huge, and the start was a madhouse. I think I've been in races with fewer entrants. I ran pretty much on my own, though. The first three miles were fine, albeit unbelievably muggy. Not long before the second water stop, my arch really started hurting, and I half-ran, half-hobbled into the water stop. I decided to keep going, to make the full 4 out, then turned back.
Just after mile 5, everything started to click, sore foot and all. I was almost entirely alone, since the marathoners were all doing high mileage, and were doing the full 7 to the end of Dick Woods. Mentally, I was somewhere I hadn't been since my airline days. Every now and then, you'd have one of those days where you knew what was going to happen a split second before it did. Your grip on the yoke relaxed, and you controlled the airplane almost by telekinesis - just the thought of how you wanted the airplane to move would make it happen. Every noise, from ATC to the FO's checklists, to the movement of the flaps and the gear, to the automated callouts, to the faint sound of the FA addressing the passengers, seemed perfectly orchestrated, and perfectly clear. The airplane and the gauges and the wind and the runway and the pilot are all part of the same intention. No matter what the crosswind or weather, the plane would cross the threshold exactly on track and on speed, and just a breath of pressure on the controls, and first the upwind wheel, then the downwind wheel, and then the nosewheel would engage the runway in a soft, slow kiss.
And that's what I felt for the last two miles this morning.
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