To say I've been unmotivated to train since the 10 miler is an understatement. I slogged through the last five weeks halfheartedly. I didn't even do the 11 miler on my program - it was pouring rain that day, so I did five that day, and five the next, and figured that was close enough. I did just enough to feel like I wouldn't totally bonk today. My main goal was to beat my previous PR of 2:29 and change. My realistic but gonna have to work for it goal was 10:30/mi. My realistic but really gonna have to work hard and race smart goal was 2:15, about 10:15/mi.
Yesterday was a crazy day, and certainly not the kind of day I'd like to have before a race. I didn't hydrate enough, I didn't rest enough, and because I needed to watch footage of the Royal Wedding, that I missed because of my crazy day, I stayed up too late.
But once I dragged myself out of bed this morning, I was in a surprisingly good mood this morning, and was ready to go. It was chilly, and I waited until the last possible second to put my long sleeved shirt into my drop bag which went into the official bag drop vehicle, a volunteer's Volvo wagon.
The national anthem was sung, and we were off. Unfortunately, the first few hundred yards were through grass that was sopping wet from dew. So I was cold and wet starting off. It took a good couple of miles to shake the chill, but the sun soon topped the trees. The course rolled through farmland, with some truly spectacular mountain views. I had a good rhythm going.
One of the great things about a small race is that people are so friendly and willing to talk to you. I had nice chats with some women, and we leapfrogged back and forth most of the race. I was concerned about going too fast too early, so I did my best to take it easy in the first half.
Around Mile 6, one of the volunteers shouted "you've got a mile downhill around the bend!" and I used that downhill for all it was worth, running my fastest mile of the race in 9:44. I knew there was a lot of uphill in the later miles, so I was glad to have some time in the bank.
At mile 10, I was pretty much toast. It was clear that I didn't have the training to really finish strong, especially when a strong headwind started blowing hard, just as we entered the most uphill portion of the course. I kept a pretty steady pace, though, and I crossed the finish in 2:13:56 - more than a minute faster than my goal, and more than 15 minutes faster than my previous PR! Not bad for feeling kind of half-assed about the whole thing.
Since it was point to point, I had to wait for the shuttle bus, and then endure a 15 minute ride back to the start while my tummy started complaining. I'm not sure why I'm having awful tummy troubles after races these days - I am off gatorade, and still having problems within 30 minutes of stopping running. Maybe my old standby recovery drink, chocolate milk, isn't such a hot idea any more. I'll go with soy next time around.
So what's next? I don't know! For the first time since last June, I have no races on the horizon. I'm planning on reclaiming my Saturday mornings for a while, hanging out at the pool, going to yoga, and otherwise having a lazyish summer. I'll still run, but only as the spirit moves me. I'm looking forward to coming back in the fall, ready to do it all again. Blog entries will be light to nonexistant on this semihiatus, but don't delete me from your Google reader. I'll be back in fine form soon enough.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
One Shot
As I'm writing this, the rain is tapping on the roof. More rain is expected tomorrow - my last long run before the half marathon that will mark the end of this training season. The last several months have been a constant battle to motivate myself, getting up at 6am in the dark during the winter, putting on yaktrax, miles upon miles on the hated treadmill. So many times I wanted to skip just one workout, sleep in on a Saturday just once instead of meeting up for a long run. Last Saturday I ran in the pouring rain, and tomorrow looks to be more of the same. Yesterday I met a bear a half mile in to my run, but rather than flee to the safety of my car, I picked a new route and did the miles. That's not to say I've been perfect, but I have rarely missed a day, and most days I even did my scheduled mileage.
Why do I do it? Missing one workout is not a big deal. Is it?
On my iPod, as many runners do, I have the song Lose Yourself by Eminem. I rarely run with headphones, except when I'm on the treadmill. I can't face a treadmill workout without them. And I always play this song. The opening lines are:
Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity
To seize everything you ever wanted-One moment
Would you capture it or just let it slip?
That one shot, that one opportunity isn't the big race. Every workout, every run is its own shot. You can't have success on the big day without treating each and every run like that one day, one run, one mile, one step is the most important you've ever run.
I post occasionally about junk miles, but the truth is that those are the most important. You can't run big without starting small. All those tiny pieces build your body and mind, and missing even one means that you didn't fulfill your potential. Even when it's cold, rainy, dark, snowy, treadmill.
So tomorrow morning I'm going to get up in the cold rain and go run.
Feet fail me not this may be the only opportunity that I got
Why do I do it? Missing one workout is not a big deal. Is it?
On my iPod, as many runners do, I have the song Lose Yourself by Eminem. I rarely run with headphones, except when I'm on the treadmill. I can't face a treadmill workout without them. And I always play this song. The opening lines are:
Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity
To seize everything you ever wanted-One moment
Would you capture it or just let it slip?
That one shot, that one opportunity isn't the big race. Every workout, every run is its own shot. You can't have success on the big day without treating each and every run like that one day, one run, one mile, one step is the most important you've ever run.
I post occasionally about junk miles, but the truth is that those are the most important. You can't run big without starting small. All those tiny pieces build your body and mind, and missing even one means that you didn't fulfill your potential. Even when it's cold, rainy, dark, snowy, treadmill.
So tomorrow morning I'm going to get up in the cold rain and go run.
Feet fail me not this may be the only opportunity that I got
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Grin and Bear It
I went for another trail run on this perfect, perfect day. This time I brought water, and had thoroughly plotted my route ahead of time, so there was no chance of getting lost. I headed up the fire trail, aiming to do a tough climb with a more gentle downhill, totaling about 2 miles, with maybe a .5 mi spur on an intersecting trail.
Last time, I got less than .5 mi up this same trail when I got whupped by the climb (it is seriously steep, even by foothills standards) and decided that I must be on the wrong trail and turned around. This time, I knew for sure that if I stuck it out for another .1 or so, I'd have a nice level run for a bit, and then a more gradual downhill.
As I was in the steepest part and struggling a little to keep running and not slow to an actual walk, I turned a sharp corner and there was a bear!! We weren't more than 15 feet from each other. This isn't the first time I've come across a bear while running (it's the third, see this post for my first sighting, and I don't think I blogged about the second), and since we live in a stone's throw from a national park where we have occasionally seen them while hiking or driving, they're not uncommon. But for whatever stupid reason, I had forgotten to put my RoadID back on my shoe, and I'd left my cellphone in the car and I was by myself, so if that bear was going to get me, it could be who knows how long before anyone found me.
Being mauled is kind of a phobia of mine, though I even hesitate to call it a phobia, because shouldn't one be scared of being mauled? It's not like my phobia of mangoes, which despite the oil in their skin being distantly related to poison ivy is pretty much irrational. No, when you live in bear country, you need to have a healthy respect for them, even though in all my 36 years here, I've never heard of anyone having any problems with bears more significant than the bears destroying garbage cans and bird feeders.
As it was my closest sighting while running, it also seemed the largest, though it's quite possible it actually was the largest of the three since the second one was a cub. My rational mind knew he meant me no harm, and was just meandering about, enjoying the nice weather and snuffling around for whatever it is that bears eat in early spring. Grubs? Rodents? And I didn't have any food on me. So of course, I screamed like a little girl, shouted "OH FUCK!" as loud as I could, turned around and high tailed it back down the trail. The bear, of course, said "WHUMPF!" and turned around and high tailed it back up the trail.
Not wanting to re-encounter the bear, I ran down the hill, and to a different trail which is in sight of the parking lot and fishing docks, where I had the pleasure of seeing fresh bear tracks in the mud. I finally decided not to tempt fate, and tried to head back to the car on the trail closest to the water and the people, but it got narrow enough that the poison ivy was closing in on it, so I just bailed entirely, and committed to getting my feet wet crossing the spillway back to the road.
As time and distance goes, it was pretty much a bust, but my POE was off the charts, and I'm pretty sure I got an awesome, adrenaline induced cardio workout, so I'll take it. Bear and poison ivy and wet feet were still better than knocking around on the treadmill.
Last time, I got less than .5 mi up this same trail when I got whupped by the climb (it is seriously steep, even by foothills standards) and decided that I must be on the wrong trail and turned around. This time, I knew for sure that if I stuck it out for another .1 or so, I'd have a nice level run for a bit, and then a more gradual downhill.
As I was in the steepest part and struggling a little to keep running and not slow to an actual walk, I turned a sharp corner and there was a bear!! We weren't more than 15 feet from each other. This isn't the first time I've come across a bear while running (it's the third, see this post for my first sighting, and I don't think I blogged about the second), and since we live in a stone's throw from a national park where we have occasionally seen them while hiking or driving, they're not uncommon. But for whatever stupid reason, I had forgotten to put my RoadID back on my shoe, and I'd left my cellphone in the car and I was by myself, so if that bear was going to get me, it could be who knows how long before anyone found me.
Being mauled is kind of a phobia of mine, though I even hesitate to call it a phobia, because shouldn't one be scared of being mauled? It's not like my phobia of mangoes, which despite the oil in their skin being distantly related to poison ivy is pretty much irrational. No, when you live in bear country, you need to have a healthy respect for them, even though in all my 36 years here, I've never heard of anyone having any problems with bears more significant than the bears destroying garbage cans and bird feeders.
As it was my closest sighting while running, it also seemed the largest, though it's quite possible it actually was the largest of the three since the second one was a cub. My rational mind knew he meant me no harm, and was just meandering about, enjoying the nice weather and snuffling around for whatever it is that bears eat in early spring. Grubs? Rodents? And I didn't have any food on me. So of course, I screamed like a little girl, shouted "OH FUCK!" as loud as I could, turned around and high tailed it back down the trail. The bear, of course, said "WHUMPF!" and turned around and high tailed it back up the trail.
Not wanting to re-encounter the bear, I ran down the hill, and to a different trail which is in sight of the parking lot and fishing docks, where I had the pleasure of seeing fresh bear tracks in the mud. I finally decided not to tempt fate, and tried to head back to the car on the trail closest to the water and the people, but it got narrow enough that the poison ivy was closing in on it, so I just bailed entirely, and committed to getting my feet wet crossing the spillway back to the road.
As time and distance goes, it was pretty much a bust, but my POE was off the charts, and I'm pretty sure I got an awesome, adrenaline induced cardio workout, so I'll take it. Bear and poison ivy and wet feet were still better than knocking around on the treadmill.
Thursday, April 07, 2011
Hitting the trails
It has been a long time since I've done any trail running more trail-y than a fire road. All the stars aligned today, and I hit the park near my house to test the waters. The park consists of a small lake with a beach open for swimming in the summer, a playground, and a picnic area nestled into a valley, and a network of trails that go up and over and around the mountains that ring the little valley. The Supportive Husband and I have taken the kids hiking there many times, and I decided to take one of the longer trails for my run today.
I had never been on that particular trail before, missed the sign for it, convinced myself I was on a different trail, so backtracked after a half mile and returned to the parking lot. I hopped on a different trail, met up with the trail I had meant to be on the whole time, then decided at the spur of the moment to take an intersecting trail that eventually met up with one of the trails we take the kids on. I found it with no trouble this time, and by the time I was back at the car for good, I'd logged just over three miles at a blistering 14 min/mile pace.
It took me quite a while to get into a good groove. I'm used to running being so thoughtless and automatic. It was a whole different experience to have to mindfully place every footfall. I had to cross streams, tiptoe over root systems, avoid loose rocks, climb mountains, descend mountains, navigate switchbacks, and pick myself up after losing my footing on a steep, leaf-covered goat path. It was oh so gentle on my feet and joints, but now all kinds of previously dormant muscles are reintroducing themselves to me. Who knew that just a little change in what was underfoot could make such a difference in my running to both my mind and body.
It was a great break for my mind to have to concentrate on all those other things. I don't think I looked at my watch a single time until the parking lot was in sight. When I wasn't busy placing my feet, I was busy listening to woodpeckers and admiring the view from the backside of the mountain.
What great timing for this run - I've been feeling post-race malaise and lack of motivation since the 10 Miler, and I'd been regretting signing up for the half at the end of the month. I'd been wanting to just bag it, to run when the mood struck rather than when my program dictated, and spend my weekends just hanging out with the kids. Now, I know I can put in the miles for the next few weeks until the race, as long as I've got a few trails runs as a reward.
I had never been on that particular trail before, missed the sign for it, convinced myself I was on a different trail, so backtracked after a half mile and returned to the parking lot. I hopped on a different trail, met up with the trail I had meant to be on the whole time, then decided at the spur of the moment to take an intersecting trail that eventually met up with one of the trails we take the kids on. I found it with no trouble this time, and by the time I was back at the car for good, I'd logged just over three miles at a blistering 14 min/mile pace.
It took me quite a while to get into a good groove. I'm used to running being so thoughtless and automatic. It was a whole different experience to have to mindfully place every footfall. I had to cross streams, tiptoe over root systems, avoid loose rocks, climb mountains, descend mountains, navigate switchbacks, and pick myself up after losing my footing on a steep, leaf-covered goat path. It was oh so gentle on my feet and joints, but now all kinds of previously dormant muscles are reintroducing themselves to me. Who knew that just a little change in what was underfoot could make such a difference in my running to both my mind and body.
It was a great break for my mind to have to concentrate on all those other things. I don't think I looked at my watch a single time until the parking lot was in sight. When I wasn't busy placing my feet, I was busy listening to woodpeckers and admiring the view from the backside of the mountain.
What great timing for this run - I've been feeling post-race malaise and lack of motivation since the 10 Miler, and I'd been regretting signing up for the half at the end of the month. I'd been wanting to just bag it, to run when the mood struck rather than when my program dictated, and spend my weekends just hanging out with the kids. Now, I know I can put in the miles for the next few weeks until the race, as long as I've got a few trails runs as a reward.
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