Sunday's long run was scheduled to be seven miles. It was easy to choose a route - I drove to Davenport and ran on the Bix course. Hey, if I lived in Boston and needed to run a 26.2 training run (admittedly unlikely), I know where I'd run then, too.
The weather had warmed up to the low 30s, which felt lovely and warm, and it was raining, which during the winter just feels like a refreshing change of pace. The course, as always, was hilly and challenging, but I was really in the mood to tackle something like that. I even saw a pair of fellow runners who seemed to be doing the very same thing. We waved enthusiastically at each other from across the street.
When the run was over, I felt great... except for one thing. I did a road test of a new sports bra and tried it with no Body Glide. Big mistake. A spot on my chest was completely chafed. The feeling when I stepped into the shower and the water hit me was absolute agony. Running seven miles in the rain over steep hills? No big deal. Tiny spot on my chest with no Body Glide? Totally laid me out.
Showing posts with label long run. Show all posts
Showing posts with label long run. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Last one!
Sunday marked my last long run before next week's half marathon trisko. The entire group - both those training for the marathon and for the trisko - ran eight miles. Russ, our coach, told us to run them easy, have fun, and try to run with somebody new.
That sounded like a good idea, so I kept my iPod in my pocket and found a couple of runners to hang out with for eight miles. I'm glad I did. Both women were training for their first marathon, and it was fun to hear what they were thinking about and how excited they were about their first race.
After the run, we had a potluck picnic. I read somewhere that runners have no guilt at the buffet table, and our training group definitely proved that. One guy loaded up his plate with both fried chicken and doughnuts. John, another of our coaches, had a cinnamon roll in one hand, and a beer in the other - a fine Sunday morning breakfast. My own breakfast included a ham sandwich, tuna noodle casserole (surprisingly delicious after an 8 mile run and before 9:00 in the morning), lots of fruit, and cake.
So now, with that last run behind me, I am feeling excited. I have my race day outfit ready to go (featuring a new pair of Wright Socks), have looked at the course map, and am excited to do some shopping at the expo. Let's get this party started.
That sounded like a good idea, so I kept my iPod in my pocket and found a couple of runners to hang out with for eight miles. I'm glad I did. Both women were training for their first marathon, and it was fun to hear what they were thinking about and how excited they were about their first race.
After the run, we had a potluck picnic. I read somewhere that runners have no guilt at the buffet table, and our training group definitely proved that. One guy loaded up his plate with both fried chicken and doughnuts. John, another of our coaches, had a cinnamon roll in one hand, and a beer in the other - a fine Sunday morning breakfast. My own breakfast included a ham sandwich, tuna noodle casserole (surprisingly delicious after an 8 mile run and before 9:00 in the morning), lots of fruit, and cake.
So now, with that last run behind me, I am feeling excited. I have my race day outfit ready to go (featuring a new pair of Wright Socks), have looked at the course map, and am excited to do some shopping at the expo. Let's get this party started.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Not exactly what I had in mind
I planned very carefully for today's 12 mile long run. And my run did not go remotely as planned.
The people in my training group who are preparing for the full marathon were doing their first 20 miler of the season, whereas we trisko runners were doing a mere 12. We got an email from one of the coaches advising us that it was going to be a hot today, so we should plan on hydrating carefully. Plus, to avoid some of the heat, we'd start at 6:15 rather than 7:00.
However, this weekend, Steve was away at a fraternity reunion in a cabin in remote Kentucky. How was I going to get away for a run? I obviously can't leave him alone, and it seemed like a lot to ask of my mom to come to Stately Wasser Manor at the crack of dawn. Then, I got a brainstorm - Jack and I would spend the night at my mom's house. I'd get up, go running, then the Cub and I would have breakfast with my mom and Doug. A huge bonus in this plan is that my mom can make the hell out of some blueberry pancakes.
I didn't sleep well, due to a combination of an unfamiliar bed, pillows other than my own, and sharing a bed with Jack. And then... my alarm didn't go off. I woke up an hour later than I should have.
A huge part of me wanted to just stay in bed and decide it wasn't meant to be. But I thought about how supportive my family was being, and that was enough to get me up and in my running shoes (and Wright Socks DLXes). I wasn't sure how to do a 12 miler from outside my usual base of operations, so I decided to break it into two 6 mile runs, stopping at the house in between for water breaks.
The weather was brutally hot and humid. In no time, I was completely soaked. And it was one of those days when nothing on my iPod was quite working for me. I kept hopping back and forth between podcasts and music. My heart definitely wasn't in it, and the miles, to put it mildly, did not fly by.
I've often heard that, in a marathon, you run the first 10 miles with your head, the next 10 with your legs, and the last 6.2 with your heart. I ran this entire 12 miler with my guts, just toughing it out because I knew that even if I didn't want to, I could do it.
When the run was over, I'd like to say that I felt triumphant, but I really just felt tired. Too tired, tragically, to even eat the blueberry pancakes.
The run was not exactly what I had in mind. But you know what was 100% awesome? The WrightSocks DLX. They were cushy and comfy, with that bit of snuggness at the arch that I like. Despite my profuse amounts of sweat (sexy), I had no problems at all with sweaty feet. Better still, I didn't have a single blister.
The people in my training group who are preparing for the full marathon were doing their first 20 miler of the season, whereas we trisko runners were doing a mere 12. We got an email from one of the coaches advising us that it was going to be a hot today, so we should plan on hydrating carefully. Plus, to avoid some of the heat, we'd start at 6:15 rather than 7:00.
However, this weekend, Steve was away at a fraternity reunion in a cabin in remote Kentucky. How was I going to get away for a run? I obviously can't leave him alone, and it seemed like a lot to ask of my mom to come to Stately Wasser Manor at the crack of dawn. Then, I got a brainstorm - Jack and I would spend the night at my mom's house. I'd get up, go running, then the Cub and I would have breakfast with my mom and Doug. A huge bonus in this plan is that my mom can make the hell out of some blueberry pancakes.
I didn't sleep well, due to a combination of an unfamiliar bed, pillows other than my own, and sharing a bed with Jack. And then... my alarm didn't go off. I woke up an hour later than I should have.
A huge part of me wanted to just stay in bed and decide it wasn't meant to be. But I thought about how supportive my family was being, and that was enough to get me up and in my running shoes (and Wright Socks DLXes). I wasn't sure how to do a 12 miler from outside my usual base of operations, so I decided to break it into two 6 mile runs, stopping at the house in between for water breaks.The weather was brutally hot and humid. In no time, I was completely soaked. And it was one of those days when nothing on my iPod was quite working for me. I kept hopping back and forth between podcasts and music. My heart definitely wasn't in it, and the miles, to put it mildly, did not fly by.
I've often heard that, in a marathon, you run the first 10 miles with your head, the next 10 with your legs, and the last 6.2 with your heart. I ran this entire 12 miler with my guts, just toughing it out because I knew that even if I didn't want to, I could do it.
When the run was over, I'd like to say that I felt triumphant, but I really just felt tired. Too tired, tragically, to even eat the blueberry pancakes.
The run was not exactly what I had in mind. But you know what was 100% awesome? The WrightSocks DLX. They were cushy and comfy, with that bit of snuggness at the arch that I like. Despite my profuse amounts of sweat (sexy), I had no problems at all with sweaty feet. Better still, I didn't have a single blister.
Monday, July 20, 2009
I'm Going on a Long Run
Lately, the song "Going on a Bear Hunt" has been running through my head... but with some slightly different words. Sing it with me!
I'm going on a long run.
I'm gonna run a big one!
I'm going on a long run.
I'm not afraid!
Ooh, looky!
What is that?
It's a swamp-uh!
Can't go over it.
Can't go under it.
Can't go around it.
We gotta go through it!
I did indeed encounter a swamp on a recent long run. I was out with my running club a few days after a rain that would best be described as "monsoon-like." The path was still covered with puddles, patches of mud, and so on. The miles flew by as I'd come across a new obstacle and decide if the mud/water/gunk was too deep to run through.
One of the times I decided that it was too deep, I veered to the right hand side of the path. The other runners had the opposite instinct and went left.
I chose wrong.
Within seconds, I was sloshing through swampy long grass, soaking my feet up to my ankles, and giving my three-day old running shoes (Brooks Adrenaline, btw) some character. Everyone had a good laugh.
I'm going on a long run.
I'm gonna run a big one!
I'm going on a long run.
I'm not afraid!
Ooh, looky!
What is that?
It's a hill-uh!
Can't go through it.
Can't go under it.
Can't go around it.
We gotta go up it!
For this week's long run, we started at a different park than usual. My fellow
Then I remembered that in order to get back to our picnic shelter, my car, and my Oxysox, I would have to go up a gigantic hill.
I'd given those 10 miles everything I had, and Internet, my calves were burning. Still, I thought about the popsicles and watermelon that were waiting for me, and I climbed that hill.
As runners, we learn to meet obstacles head-on. We learn how strong we are, and we learn that when something daunting is ahead of us, we can confidentlly say, "I'm not afraid!"
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Dress Rehearsal
Thanks to my involvement with my local running club, I had a great opportunity on Sunday morning. We ran a 13.1 mile training run for the Quad Cities Distance Classic Trisko (“half marathon”) – and not just any 13.1 miles. We got to run it on the actual race course!
I decided to look at the training run as a dress rehearsal for the main event. Would my plans for fuel, clothing, and so on work on race day? What would the changes to the course be like?
Fuel:
So, the night before the run, I totally forgot that I was doing a trisko the next day and didn’t make much of an effort to carb load. Dinner was cheeseburgers, baked beans, and grilled carrots. And let me tell you, it was delightful. Near as I can tell, my lack of carbs the night before had no ill effect on my running the next day. That is definitely one of the advantages of a trisko over a marathon!
For breakfast, I had a race day favorite meal: toasted English muffin with peanut butter and honey, plus coffee and some water. I meant to eat a banana, but I forgot . No problems there.
I brought two packs of Jelly Belly Sport Beans in cherry – that’s the good kind with caffeine in them. I figured one pack would be enough, but that the second pack would serve as a security blanket or would hook me up in case of emergency. I ate about half of them at 6 miles and the rest at 10. That was good, too.
Clothes:
It’s spring, so you can never be quite sure until the morning of a race what to wear, so I may not be in the same thing for the race as I wore to the dress rehearsal. But if I do end up in my yellow short-sleeved Brooks Podium shirt, grey C9 skirt, C9 socks, One More Mile hat (“Running is my happy hour”) and my Asics 2140’s, I’ll be very comfortable.
Gear:
My faithful running companion Paula Garmin was on my left wrist, over a simple wristband for padding. On my other wrist, I wore my Road ID that bears my mantra ONE TOUGH MOTHER.
Tragically, my iPod is all screwed up. It is stuck in the locked position and I can’t get it un-stuck. I am going to mess with it more this week in hopes of fixing it, the alternative being to buy a new one, which I’d rather not do. In desperation, I borrowed Steve’s. I say desperation because Steve is notorious at Stately Wasser Manor for making the world’s worst running playlists. The songs are all good, but way too mellow. You can’t work up a sweat to any of them. I ended up not using it at all, which I’ll get into later.
My biggest experiment was wearing my Fuel Belt. I really like it, but would it be annoying or uncomfortable for the duration of a trisko? I loaded it up with Gatorade (yellow, adorably matching my shirt). I put the iPod in the pocket, along with just the key to my car, leaving the rest behind to not have any jingling or extra weight. Then I attached my Amphipod, filled with Sport Beans, to the side of it. My friend Cindy compared my Fuel Belt to Batman’s utility belt, which is so awesome that I will call it my Utility Belt from now on. The Utility Belt was completely comfortable, so I’ll be happy to wear it on race day.
Course:
The course has been changed since last year. There’s still a massive uphill right after the first mile and a big downhill at around 4. There’s a short, steep hill somewhere around 9 to get onto a bike path by the river that I’m not too worried about. The great news is, the nasty hill at mile 12 that gave me such grief last year is gone, baby gone. My strategy is to run the first half on pace to finish in 2 hours, giving myself the option to speed up in the second half if I feel like it.
Cool:
There was a huge turnout for dress rehearsal – at least twice as many as the previously best attended training run. Among the people there was Kelly, a fellow runner who works with Steve. Her goal finish is about the same as mine, so we decided to run together. And it was delightful! I had such a good time talking to Kelly that I never used Steve’s questionable iPod – and the miles flew by.
So, all in all, Dress Rehearsal was a success. I feel totally prepared to run this race and to run it well. With any luck, last year’s 2:05 finish will be erased for a new trisko PR!
I decided to look at the training run as a dress rehearsal for the main event. Would my plans for fuel, clothing, and so on work on race day? What would the changes to the course be like?
Fuel:
So, the night before the run, I totally forgot that I was doing a trisko the next day and didn’t make much of an effort to carb load. Dinner was cheeseburgers, baked beans, and grilled carrots. And let me tell you, it was delightful. Near as I can tell, my lack of carbs the night before had no ill effect on my running the next day. That is definitely one of the advantages of a trisko over a marathon!
For breakfast, I had a race day favorite meal: toasted English muffin with peanut butter and honey, plus coffee and some water. I meant to eat a banana, but I forgot . No problems there.
I brought two packs of Jelly Belly Sport Beans in cherry – that’s the good kind with caffeine in them. I figured one pack would be enough, but that the second pack would serve as a security blanket or would hook me up in case of emergency. I ate about half of them at 6 miles and the rest at 10. That was good, too.
Clothes:
It’s spring, so you can never be quite sure until the morning of a race what to wear, so I may not be in the same thing for the race as I wore to the dress rehearsal. But if I do end up in my yellow short-sleeved Brooks Podium shirt, grey C9 skirt, C9 socks, One More Mile hat (“Running is my happy hour”) and my Asics 2140’s, I’ll be very comfortable.
Gear:
My faithful running companion Paula Garmin was on my left wrist, over a simple wristband for padding. On my other wrist, I wore my Road ID that bears my mantra ONE TOUGH MOTHER.
Tragically, my iPod is all screwed up. It is stuck in the locked position and I can’t get it un-stuck. I am going to mess with it more this week in hopes of fixing it, the alternative being to buy a new one, which I’d rather not do. In desperation, I borrowed Steve’s. I say desperation because Steve is notorious at Stately Wasser Manor for making the world’s worst running playlists. The songs are all good, but way too mellow. You can’t work up a sweat to any of them. I ended up not using it at all, which I’ll get into later.
My biggest experiment was wearing my Fuel Belt. I really like it, but would it be annoying or uncomfortable for the duration of a trisko? I loaded it up with Gatorade (yellow, adorably matching my shirt). I put the iPod in the pocket, along with just the key to my car, leaving the rest behind to not have any jingling or extra weight. Then I attached my Amphipod, filled with Sport Beans, to the side of it. My friend Cindy compared my Fuel Belt to Batman’s utility belt, which is so awesome that I will call it my Utility Belt from now on. The Utility Belt was completely comfortable, so I’ll be happy to wear it on race day.
Course:
The course has been changed since last year. There’s still a massive uphill right after the first mile and a big downhill at around 4. There’s a short, steep hill somewhere around 9 to get onto a bike path by the river that I’m not too worried about. The great news is, the nasty hill at mile 12 that gave me such grief last year is gone, baby gone. My strategy is to run the first half on pace to finish in 2 hours, giving myself the option to speed up in the second half if I feel like it.
Cool:
There was a huge turnout for dress rehearsal – at least twice as many as the previously best attended training run. Among the people there was Kelly, a fellow runner who works with Steve. Her goal finish is about the same as mine, so we decided to run together. And it was delightful! I had such a good time talking to Kelly that I never used Steve’s questionable iPod – and the miles flew by.
So, all in all, Dress Rehearsal was a success. I feel totally prepared to run this race and to run it well. With any luck, last year’s 2:05 finish will be erased for a new trisko PR!
Monday, March 23, 2009
The Power of the Group Run
For the most part, I love the solitary aspects of distance running. It's my favorite time to de-stress, work out problems, or even just hang out and listen to music and podcasts.
But at the same time, it's good to have friends. I adore each and every one of my BRF's (seriously), but I recognize the benefit of having some running friends who I can go out with not just in spirit, but in reality. That's why one of my 2009 running goals was to get to know some local runners. And guys, it's working.
I joined my local running club and started going to events. That was a good start, but even better was joining in the training runs that the club is having for the upcoming Quad Cities Distance Classic trisko ("half marathon").
Bright and surly every Sunday morning, a large group of runners descends upon McDonald's, standing out in the crowd with our brightly colored jackets, tights, and low percentage of body fat.
This week, I ran at my own pace and found myself smack dab in the middle of two packs - one running a bit faster than I was, the other a bit slower. But at the turnaround, I ended up running with John, a guy I met at a previous training run. Since John and I are both, you know, runners, it wasn't exactly hard to find things to talk about.
The miles flew by, and our conversation turned to our goal times for the upcoming race. I said that I wanted to run it in two hours or less. John said that, with the pace we were running, I'd surely be able to do it.
I laughed and said, "You are really making me work right now." Then, he admitted that he kept expecting me to drop him and take off.
Neither of us slowed our pace. Instead, we pushed a little faster up the final hill to the parking lot, where a jug of water and our fellow runners waited. I was rewarded for my efforts with a chance to hang out and talk about running - just what I wanted.
My average pace for that ten mile run? 8:47. That may be a walk in the park for some of you Speedy McSpeedersons, but for me, it is Kenyan fast. I feel amazing... and I can't wait for the next group run so I can do it again.
But at the same time, it's good to have friends. I adore each and every one of my BRF's (seriously), but I recognize the benefit of having some running friends who I can go out with not just in spirit, but in reality. That's why one of my 2009 running goals was to get to know some local runners. And guys, it's working.
I joined my local running club and started going to events. That was a good start, but even better was joining in the training runs that the club is having for the upcoming Quad Cities Distance Classic trisko ("half marathon").
Bright and surly every Sunday morning, a large group of runners descends upon McDonald's, standing out in the crowd with our brightly colored jackets, tights, and low percentage of body fat.
This week, I ran at my own pace and found myself smack dab in the middle of two packs - one running a bit faster than I was, the other a bit slower. But at the turnaround, I ended up running with John, a guy I met at a previous training run. Since John and I are both, you know, runners, it wasn't exactly hard to find things to talk about.
The miles flew by, and our conversation turned to our goal times for the upcoming race. I said that I wanted to run it in two hours or less. John said that, with the pace we were running, I'd surely be able to do it.
I laughed and said, "You are really making me work right now." Then, he admitted that he kept expecting me to drop him and take off.
Neither of us slowed our pace. Instead, we pushed a little faster up the final hill to the parking lot, where a jug of water and our fellow runners waited. I was rewarded for my efforts with a chance to hang out and talk about running - just what I wanted.
My average pace for that ten mile run? 8:47. That may be a walk in the park for some of you Speedy McSpeedersons, but for me, it is Kenyan fast. I feel amazing... and I can't wait for the next group run so I can do it again.
Monday, September 08, 2008
The Last Long Run
Saturday was my last really long run (18 miles) before the Quad Cities Marathon, and it was a glorious end to this phase of my training.
The weather was absolutely perfect - cool, with a slight breeze, and sunny. I will be a very happy woman indeed if the marathon is that nice. Better still, it stayed consistently nice the entire time I was out running.
It was a fun day to be out, too. I started by running downtown and to the river, where there was a lot going on. Set up was underway for the Viva Quad Cities Festival - including a 5K race that I didn't know about until Friday night. Bad job with the publicity, guys. At the same time, people were gathering for an Alzheimer's Memory Walk, so I sent a little love up to my Grandpa, who did with the disease. There were lots of people out on the path by the river riding bikes, walking, running, or just watching the water.
As I did my neighborhood loops, I tried my best to enjoy every moment of it. I feel so much stronger than I did when I started my training for this race. I have four 20 mile training runs under my belt. My speed work is going great. And I think I have learned how to focus better, allowing me to keep going past the point of... not exhaustion, but rather monotony.
Then, with one mile left to go, I felt a very strange feeling in my knee. It was a stinging, burning feeling that actually reminded me of the sensation I got a few weeks ago when I was pulling weeds and got hold of a stinging nettle. I actually swatted at it, like a bee had stung me. Then, I thought calmly to myself, "This will pass." I kept on running, reminding myself gently that this weird feeling was not going to stop me. Sure enough, it faded in just a few minutes.
I had a realization: when I got to the end of the street ahead of me, all of my high mileage weeks would be complete. Just past that stop sign was my taper. I raced for it, then had a relaxing walk home.
I am grateful for my long runs. I am grateful that I have built the strength, confidence, and focus to run as far as I have. For Steve, happy to spend Saturday mornings hanging out with Jack while I run. For Jack, who unfailingly asks me if I had a good run and is always happy to snuggle up and relax with me when it's over. For being able to complete all of these weeks of training with no serious injuries. For all of the time I've been able to spend out on the road, completely alone and happy to be running.
And now, I taper, doing my best to relax (ha) before the big day arrives.
The weather was absolutely perfect - cool, with a slight breeze, and sunny. I will be a very happy woman indeed if the marathon is that nice. Better still, it stayed consistently nice the entire time I was out running.
It was a fun day to be out, too. I started by running downtown and to the river, where there was a lot going on. Set up was underway for the Viva Quad Cities Festival - including a 5K race that I didn't know about until Friday night. Bad job with the publicity, guys. At the same time, people were gathering for an Alzheimer's Memory Walk, so I sent a little love up to my Grandpa, who did with the disease. There were lots of people out on the path by the river riding bikes, walking, running, or just watching the water.
As I did my neighborhood loops, I tried my best to enjoy every moment of it. I feel so much stronger than I did when I started my training for this race. I have four 20 mile training runs under my belt. My speed work is going great. And I think I have learned how to focus better, allowing me to keep going past the point of... not exhaustion, but rather monotony.
Then, with one mile left to go, I felt a very strange feeling in my knee. It was a stinging, burning feeling that actually reminded me of the sensation I got a few weeks ago when I was pulling weeds and got hold of a stinging nettle. I actually swatted at it, like a bee had stung me. Then, I thought calmly to myself, "This will pass." I kept on running, reminding myself gently that this weird feeling was not going to stop me. Sure enough, it faded in just a few minutes.
I had a realization: when I got to the end of the street ahead of me, all of my high mileage weeks would be complete. Just past that stop sign was my taper. I raced for it, then had a relaxing walk home.
I am grateful for my long runs. I am grateful that I have built the strength, confidence, and focus to run as far as I have. For Steve, happy to spend Saturday mornings hanging out with Jack while I run. For Jack, who unfailingly asks me if I had a good run and is always happy to snuggle up and relax with me when it's over. For being able to complete all of these weeks of training with no serious injuries. For all of the time I've been able to spend out on the road, completely alone and happy to be running.
And now, I taper, doing my best to relax (ha) before the big day arrives.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
My Perfect Recovery
Take It and Run Thursday this week is all about rest and recovery. That topic was definitely on my mind while I was sweating through Saturday's 20 miler, and I got to thinking about my perfect recovery.
(By "perfect recovery" in this case, I mean a recovery time that I can reasonably expect to get. My true perfect recovery, which involves Ewan McGreggor massaging my feet while singing songs from Moulin Rogue and wearing his Obi-Wan costume is, unfortunately, harder to arrange.)
I finish my run about a block away from my house, then walk the rest of the way home while looking at my (amazing) splits on my Garmin. I pull an ice cold bottle of Gatorade (purple) out of the fridge and down it gratefully. Steve and Jack have left a note saying they've gone out for pancakes and are proud of me. I grab a protein bar to get some food in me right away, then go upstairs.
I leave my sweaty clothes in a heap on the floor, then ease into a cold bath, which I truly believe helps aid in a faster recovery. I read a brand new issue of Runner's World as I shock my muscles into healing.
Then it's time for a hot shower. The water washes away all of the grime of my run, and I lather myself up with a liberal amount of shower gel, so I smell delicious. I put on a recovery outfit of a comfy running-related t-shirt and if I'm feeling fancy, gym shorts, with a warm, fluffy pair of socks.
Just as I'm dressed, Steve and Jack return home. "Mommy! Did you have a good run?" Jack asks, then tells me that he's tired and wants to take "a little rest in MommyDaddy room and watch a movie." We put in one of his favorite movies, one that I'm not too sick of yet, and snuggle under the covers.
Steve brings me a sandwich and a big glass of ice water. The man makes the greatest sandwiches known to man, taking the time to blot the lettuce and tomato so the bread doesn't get soggy, layering the meat and cheese carefully so that each bite is perfection. Amazing craftsmanship, truly.
After I eat my sandwich, I drift off to sleep. Jack tries a half-hearted, "Open your eyes, Mommy," but mostly focuses on cuddling his little body up to mine.
Once the movie - and my nap - are over, I'm ready to face the rest of the day, a day that hopefully involves Ewan McGreggor.
(By "perfect recovery" in this case, I mean a recovery time that I can reasonably expect to get. My true perfect recovery, which involves Ewan McGreggor massaging my feet while singing songs from Moulin Rogue and wearing his Obi-Wan costume is, unfortunately, harder to arrange.)
I finish my run about a block away from my house, then walk the rest of the way home while looking at my (amazing) splits on my Garmin. I pull an ice cold bottle of Gatorade (purple) out of the fridge and down it gratefully. Steve and Jack have left a note saying they've gone out for pancakes and are proud of me. I grab a protein bar to get some food in me right away, then go upstairs.
I leave my sweaty clothes in a heap on the floor, then ease into a cold bath, which I truly believe helps aid in a faster recovery. I read a brand new issue of Runner's World as I shock my muscles into healing.
Then it's time for a hot shower. The water washes away all of the grime of my run, and I lather myself up with a liberal amount of shower gel, so I smell delicious. I put on a recovery outfit of a comfy running-related t-shirt and if I'm feeling fancy, gym shorts, with a warm, fluffy pair of socks.
Just as I'm dressed, Steve and Jack return home. "Mommy! Did you have a good run?" Jack asks, then tells me that he's tired and wants to take "a little rest in MommyDaddy room and watch a movie." We put in one of his favorite movies, one that I'm not too sick of yet, and snuggle under the covers.
Steve brings me a sandwich and a big glass of ice water. The man makes the greatest sandwiches known to man, taking the time to blot the lettuce and tomato so the bread doesn't get soggy, layering the meat and cheese carefully so that each bite is perfection. Amazing craftsmanship, truly.
After I eat my sandwich, I drift off to sleep. Jack tries a half-hearted, "Open your eyes, Mommy," but mostly focuses on cuddling his little body up to mine.
Once the movie - and my nap - are over, I'm ready to face the rest of the day, a day that hopefully involves Ewan McGreggor.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Glowing Like a Horse
Saturday morning was my final 20 mile training run in preparation for the marathon. The crazy guys at FIRST schedule a total of 5 20 milers, but I am going to change the last one to 18. I think that 4 20 mile runs should more than prepare me for 26.2, and my good friend Tom at Runners' Lounge thinks the big 2-0 is unnecessary. I'm still glad I hit as many 20's as I did, because it really builds my confidence. The reason I'm backing off the last one is that I don't think I need it, and I want to avoid the prospect of injury or overtraining.
The fact that Saturday's run was a horrifically sweaty experience only sealed the deal.
I thought it would be a pretty decent little run. It wasn't too hot outside. But as our friend the cliche tells us, it's not the heat; it's the humidity. I was the sweatiest person who ever lived.
You may think I was just your standard level of sweaty. Soaked ponytail? Check. Able to wring disturbing amounts of sweat from my wristbands and clothing? Check. Sweat stinging the eyes. Check. Sweaty, yes, but you're not impressed yet.
Well, how about the fact that, during the course of my run, I lost five pounds*? Still not sufficiently horrified? Okay, you asked for it.
At mile 14, I noticed that my shoes and socks were as wet as if I'd stepped in a puddle. They actually made squishing noises as I went. And Internet? I did not step in a puddle. The sweat dripped down from my legs and pooled into my shoes. I debated whether or not to stop at home to get dry socks and ultimately decided it was worth it so I wouldn't have the world's biggest blisters killing my really cute black peep-toed heels at my high school class reunion that night.
Friends, this post has a purpose besides just to gross you out. There was also a lesson learned in there. I'd stashed five bucks in the pocket of the Ridiculously Short Shorts, but it was so sweaty that I was embarassed to spend it. Next time? I will put that bad boy in a plastic bag.
*I had heard that giving birth was the fastest way to lose a great deal of weight really fast, but running 20 miles in the sweltering humidity was even faster. And just in time for my high school reunion!
The fact that Saturday's run was a horrifically sweaty experience only sealed the deal.
I thought it would be a pretty decent little run. It wasn't too hot outside. But as our friend the cliche tells us, it's not the heat; it's the humidity. I was the sweatiest person who ever lived.
You may think I was just your standard level of sweaty. Soaked ponytail? Check. Able to wring disturbing amounts of sweat from my wristbands and clothing? Check. Sweat stinging the eyes. Check. Sweaty, yes, but you're not impressed yet.
Well, how about the fact that, during the course of my run, I lost five pounds*? Still not sufficiently horrified? Okay, you asked for it.
At mile 14, I noticed that my shoes and socks were as wet as if I'd stepped in a puddle. They actually made squishing noises as I went. And Internet? I did not step in a puddle. The sweat dripped down from my legs and pooled into my shoes. I debated whether or not to stop at home to get dry socks and ultimately decided it was worth it so I wouldn't have the world's biggest blisters killing my really cute black peep-toed heels at my high school class reunion that night.
Friends, this post has a purpose besides just to gross you out. There was also a lesson learned in there. I'd stashed five bucks in the pocket of the Ridiculously Short Shorts, but it was so sweaty that I was embarassed to spend it. Next time? I will put that bad boy in a plastic bag.
*I had heard that giving birth was the fastest way to lose a great deal of weight really fast, but running 20 miles in the sweltering humidity was even faster. And just in time for my high school reunion!
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Halfway Down the Stairs
Take it and Run Thursday is all about "the middle" this week. The middle part of a training program is a tricky place to be for a runner. The beginning is great. You're in those opening throes of excitement, full of enthusiasm. And the end is cool, too. You're tapering, and that race is within sight.
But the middle? There's a lot of potential for ho-hum. That initial glow has worn off, and although you're building up miles, your distances aren't exactly amazing, rock star amounts. I actually wrote about that feeling when I was training for the trisko a few months back. I had just finished a training run of eight miles, and my pace was, you know... fine. Not bad, not great. The distance itself was okay - not an easy three, not a challenging double-digit distance.
Finishing a run with a feeling of malaise isn't a good recipe to want to get out there and run again, you know? What's the best cure for these middle training week blahs?
A healthy dose of perspective.
The easiest thing to do is to talk to a non-runner. I was at a party on Saturday, talking to some non-running friends, about what we'd done that day. I said that I'd gone running, just fifteen, then ran errands, blah, blah, blah.
They stared at me in amazement. "You ran fifteen miles today? If I did that, I wouldn't even be standing up right now."
I realized that was true - the distance I'd run, which was just in the middle for me, in the middle part of my training program - was something that most people I know (other than you damned BRF's, throwing off the average) could not do. It truly was an accomplishment. In fact, each and every run is an accomplishment, a gift. The middle is actually pretty cool. I can look back at where I've been, and confidently see where I'm going.
And because most things can best be explained by Muppets, I give you Robin, with A.A. Milne's "Halfway Down the Stairs."
But the middle? There's a lot of potential for ho-hum. That initial glow has worn off, and although you're building up miles, your distances aren't exactly amazing, rock star amounts. I actually wrote about that feeling when I was training for the trisko a few months back. I had just finished a training run of eight miles, and my pace was, you know... fine. Not bad, not great. The distance itself was okay - not an easy three, not a challenging double-digit distance.
Finishing a run with a feeling of malaise isn't a good recipe to want to get out there and run again, you know? What's the best cure for these middle training week blahs?
A healthy dose of perspective.
The easiest thing to do is to talk to a non-runner. I was at a party on Saturday, talking to some non-running friends, about what we'd done that day. I said that I'd gone running, just fifteen, then ran errands, blah, blah, blah.
They stared at me in amazement. "You ran fifteen miles today? If I did that, I wouldn't even be standing up right now."
I realized that was true - the distance I'd run, which was just in the middle for me, in the middle part of my training program - was something that most people I know (other than you damned BRF's, throwing off the average) could not do. It truly was an accomplishment. In fact, each and every run is an accomplishment, a gift. The middle is actually pretty cool. I can look back at where I've been, and confidently see where I'm going.
And because most things can best be explained by Muppets, I give you Robin, with A.A. Milne's "Halfway Down the Stairs."
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Country Roads, Take Me Home
My long run last weekend was a lot harder than it usually is. Not because of the distance (it was a 20 miler, but my third of this training season, so it felt surprisingly comfortable in that respect), but rather because of logistics. Steve and I were in Murphysboro, Illinois, my hometown, to retrieve Jack from my parents.
It's hard running in an unfamiliar setting, and I honestly wasn't sure how I was going to run 20 miles in Murphysboro - it's really small. The last time I tried was at Thanksgiving, when I decided to do an explore run, feeling flexible on the distance, but wanting to cover a decent chunk of mileage. I went all the way across town, through a park, and back to the house and discovered I'd only done a 5K.
My dad suggested that I go to Lake Murphysboro State Park, where there is a 4 mile loop that I could just do five times, "but it's hilly." I drove through it to see just how hilly it was. The park was beautiful - trees everywhere, glimpses of the lake... but it was so hilly that my Achilles tendons were like, "Lady, no. You've got to be kidding me." Okay, fine - but I'll be back there during my unofficial cross country season in the fall.
I decided to wing it, doing three six mile loops, with stops back at the house for water or Gatorade, then a two mile loop.
As I started the first loop, it became quickly evident that Murphysboro is not designed for runners. There were no sidewalks, and the shoulders weren't especially wide, either. I ran facing traffic and felt like I had to keep dodging pickup trucks. I ran on some random country roads, and it was really pretty - trees, little ponds, deer - and people who looked at me like I was crazy. Unfortunately, I also saw a lot of trash on the ground, including an empty case of beer next to a home pregnancy test box. Classy! I had to slightly modify my planned course when a bunch of dogs chased me.
Six miles down, and it was time for the second loop. I ran across town, then turned in a direction that I was hoping would lead me to some decent empty space. A few turns later, and I discovered myself under a huge blue sky, facing one of those Stealth Hills. The kind that is not steep, but is very, very long. I hit eight miles and noted my time for Nancy's Olympic Challenge - 1:25:33. I ended up at Lake Murphysboro, where I saw the only other runners I encountered the entire time I was out. They gave me a look of started recognition, as I suspect they weren't used to seeing other runners out and about. Oh, and trash report? Condom wrapper. I like to think that the people whose story began with the beer and home pregnancy test was concluded with that Durex wrapper, that they learned their lesson.
I hit Stealth Hill after Stealth Hill and comforted myself with the idea that the way back would be downhill. Turns out it wasn't - heading back, I saw another Stealth Hill. I told myself that if I hadn't noticed it sloping down, it shouldn't bother me sloping up.
As I ran back for a drink, an old man in a pickup truck called out his window to ask if he could run with me. "Sure," I said. "Come on out." Then he got a good look at the Ridiculously Short Shorts(tm) and said, "You sure look good out there." Still got it, baby! Sure, he was a semi-creepy old man, but I take what I can get.
It was time for the third loop, and my dad had suggested that I run to the high school, that it was about three miles away. Unfortunately, he miscalcuated - it was only two. I did my best to add some distance on by wandering around the athletic fields, but no such luck. I just wound up with a bunch of cut grass stuck on my legs.
I ran to a park for the final portion of my run, hit 20, and felt incredibly proud of myself for finishing it up despite the odds against me. I celebrated by diving into the swimming pool in my running clothes, which highly entertained Jack.
I may celebrate further by getting myself a present.
It's hard running in an unfamiliar setting, and I honestly wasn't sure how I was going to run 20 miles in Murphysboro - it's really small. The last time I tried was at Thanksgiving, when I decided to do an explore run, feeling flexible on the distance, but wanting to cover a decent chunk of mileage. I went all the way across town, through a park, and back to the house and discovered I'd only done a 5K.
My dad suggested that I go to Lake Murphysboro State Park, where there is a 4 mile loop that I could just do five times, "but it's hilly." I drove through it to see just how hilly it was. The park was beautiful - trees everywhere, glimpses of the lake... but it was so hilly that my Achilles tendons were like, "Lady, no. You've got to be kidding me." Okay, fine - but I'll be back there during my unofficial cross country season in the fall.
I decided to wing it, doing three six mile loops, with stops back at the house for water or Gatorade, then a two mile loop.
As I started the first loop, it became quickly evident that Murphysboro is not designed for runners. There were no sidewalks, and the shoulders weren't especially wide, either. I ran facing traffic and felt like I had to keep dodging pickup trucks. I ran on some random country roads, and it was really pretty - trees, little ponds, deer - and people who looked at me like I was crazy. Unfortunately, I also saw a lot of trash on the ground, including an empty case of beer next to a home pregnancy test box. Classy! I had to slightly modify my planned course when a bunch of dogs chased me.
Six miles down, and it was time for the second loop. I ran across town, then turned in a direction that I was hoping would lead me to some decent empty space. A few turns later, and I discovered myself under a huge blue sky, facing one of those Stealth Hills. The kind that is not steep, but is very, very long. I hit eight miles and noted my time for Nancy's Olympic Challenge - 1:25:33. I ended up at Lake Murphysboro, where I saw the only other runners I encountered the entire time I was out. They gave me a look of started recognition, as I suspect they weren't used to seeing other runners out and about. Oh, and trash report? Condom wrapper. I like to think that the people whose story began with the beer and home pregnancy test was concluded with that Durex wrapper, that they learned their lesson.
I hit Stealth Hill after Stealth Hill and comforted myself with the idea that the way back would be downhill. Turns out it wasn't - heading back, I saw another Stealth Hill. I told myself that if I hadn't noticed it sloping down, it shouldn't bother me sloping up.
As I ran back for a drink, an old man in a pickup truck called out his window to ask if he could run with me. "Sure," I said. "Come on out." Then he got a good look at the Ridiculously Short Shorts(tm) and said, "You sure look good out there." Still got it, baby! Sure, he was a semi-creepy old man, but I take what I can get.
It was time for the third loop, and my dad had suggested that I run to the high school, that it was about three miles away. Unfortunately, he miscalcuated - it was only two. I did my best to add some distance on by wandering around the athletic fields, but no such luck. I just wound up with a bunch of cut grass stuck on my legs.
I ran to a park for the final portion of my run, hit 20, and felt incredibly proud of myself for finishing it up despite the odds against me. I celebrated by diving into the swimming pool in my running clothes, which highly entertained Jack.
I may celebrate further by getting myself a present.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Ridiculously Short Shorts 18 Miler
Internet, I am starting to believe that all of this running might be good for my legs. Even more astonishly, it seems to be good for my perception of said legs.
Witness: when I discovered that the photographer at the Bix had taken the classy "up the running skirt" shot of me headed to the finish...
my immediate reaction was not to be horrified by the gigantic size of my thighs. Instead, I thought that, while they are enormous, they looked really muscular and strong.
Such delusions, or, if you prefer, increased self-esteem, can be blamed for my decision to purchase the Ridiculously Short Shorts (RSS), which made their debut on Saturday's 18 mile run.
*not my legs. Obviously.
I remain a total Skirt Convert and love my running skirts beyond all measure. However, on incredibly humid long runs, my skirts have been reduced to a sodden mess, clinging to my legs and threatening me with chafing. It's amazing what the fear of chafing will drive me to, because lo and behold, I found myself actually wearing IN PUBLIC, a pair of Ridiculously Short Shorts that are shorter than any shorts I have every worn in my entire life.
The verdict? Once I got over my fear that one of my butt cheeks would escape and greet the world, they were quite comfortable. Almost like wearing nothing, which obviously I almost was.
My time was excellent, perhaps spurred on in some part by my desire to go home and put some pants on. Goal pace: 10:31 per mile. Actual pace: 10:29 per mile. Score!
Besides running with the lower half of my body almost completely exposed, I employed a few additional strategies that helped me.
Witness: when I discovered that the photographer at the Bix had taken the classy "up the running skirt" shot of me headed to the finish...
my immediate reaction was not to be horrified by the gigantic size of my thighs. Instead, I thought that, while they are enormous, they looked really muscular and strong.
Such delusions, or, if you prefer, increased self-esteem, can be blamed for my decision to purchase the Ridiculously Short Shorts (RSS), which made their debut on Saturday's 18 mile run.
*not my legs. Obviously.
I remain a total Skirt Convert and love my running skirts beyond all measure. However, on incredibly humid long runs, my skirts have been reduced to a sodden mess, clinging to my legs and threatening me with chafing. It's amazing what the fear of chafing will drive me to, because lo and behold, I found myself actually wearing IN PUBLIC, a pair of Ridiculously Short Shorts that are shorter than any shorts I have every worn in my entire life.
The verdict? Once I got over my fear that one of my butt cheeks would escape and greet the world, they were quite comfortable. Almost like wearing nothing, which obviously I almost was.
My time was excellent, perhaps spurred on in some part by my desire to go home and put some pants on. Goal pace: 10:31 per mile. Actual pace: 10:29 per mile. Score!
Besides running with the lower half of my body almost completely exposed, I employed a few additional strategies that helped me.
- I drank Gatorade in addition to water.
- I put the Gatorade and water in a cooler with ice on my front stoop. For the entire 3 plus hours I was out on the road, my drinks stayed icy cold, which was bliss.
- Lately, I've been running my long runs in loops of about six miles. Run 3 miles out, then back home for a drink/Gu/whatnot/walk break. This time, I took short walk breaks every three miles, which made my breaks at the six mile points much shorter.
- I packed a bag of Sport Beans in my Amphipod. I ate half of them at mile 9 and half at mile 15. I think they really gave me a boost.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
The Accidental Brick
On Saturday, I believe I attained all of the qualifications needed for the title of Total Bad-Ass. Never mind that some of them I did unintentionally.
I began with a 20 mile training run, which included some delicious hills. It was once again so hot and humid that I was able to literally wring sweat out of my running skirt (sexy). I found out later that, despite working hard to stay hydrated, I lost four pounds in the process. Yikes.
At mile 18, I was near my mom's house. I have been enlisting her as course aid in these training runs, and as usual, she had a bottle of water waiting for me. Yay, Mom! I had the genius idea that I would finish up my run in her neighborhood. Then, she'd give me some kind of delicious post-run fruit, a glass of cold, cold water, lots of adoration and compliments, and a ride home - by way of Starbucks, where I'd get one of their new protein shakes.
The only problem with this great idea was that I didn't actually tell anyone about it in advance. Which meant that there was nobody home when I went knocking on the door looking for adoration, compliments, snacks, etc. I was about three miles away from home and in no mood to do any more running - or walking - if I could avoid it.
So, I went into their garage, grabbed my step-dad Doug's bike and helmet, happy to see that his water bottle was full. I found a piece of Jack's sidewalk chalk and wrote a quick note:
I took your bike. Thanks.
--B
Mom and Doug came home and thought their bike had been stolen by someone very polite. Then they figured out that B stood not for Burglar, but rather for Betsy.
I survived the experience and figured I did not need to do any cross-training on Sunday.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Bringing Sweaty Back
I woke up bright and surly on Saturday morning, hoping to get my 18 miler in before it got too hot and humid - and to leave plenty of time to shower before Jack's swimming lesson. I dosed myself liberally with Body Glide, hydrated well, and took off.
Three hours, 22 minutes later, it became apparent that really, there wasn't anything I could have done to avoid that humidity. My clothes were so soaked in sweat that I could literally wring them out. It looked like I'd been swimming, and my skirt clung to my legs. I had painful chafing on my chest and back from my sports bra and on my thigh from my (still awesome) new Amphipod.
This incredibly sexy result aside, it was a really good run and left me feeling strong. Even though I'm a member of Club 26.2, the fact that I can run 18 miles at all makes me really proud. I also did an experiment to see if I could keep up a solid average pace and still walk at water stops. When I was approaching my house and my mom's (my two designated places), I picked up the pace for about a 1/4 mile, stopped and walked while I drank and refueled, then picked up the pace again for that 1/4 mile back. My pace for the miles including breaks is definitely slower, but other splits are faster. I don't know; I think it works for me.
My focus has improved, too. I only took two walk breaks beyond those for water, one of which was because I gave myself a gigantic hill at mile 17. I definitely want to include some hills in my training, especially in anticipation of the Bix, but my marathon is not a hilly one, so there is no need for me to force myself to run hills while fatigued. When I do my next 20 miler on Sunday, that loop is going to be one of the first ones, not the last.
And now for those splits. The goal pace for this run was 10:46. Here's how I did:
Mile 1: 10:13
Mile 2: 10:24
Mile 3: 10:21
Mile 4: 10:31
Mile 5: 10:44
Mile 6: 10:24
Mile 7: 12:24 (walk/water/Gu break)
Mile 8: 10:24
Mile 9: 10:07
Mile 10: 11:55 (walk/water/Sport Bean break)
Mile 11: 10:48
Mile 12: 10:54
Mile 13: 13:09 (walk/water/Gu break)
Mile 14: 10:37
Mile 15: 10:51
Mile 16: 10:46
Mile 17: 13:30 (the aforementioned hill)
Mile 18: 11:08
Three hours, 22 minutes later, it became apparent that really, there wasn't anything I could have done to avoid that humidity. My clothes were so soaked in sweat that I could literally wring them out. It looked like I'd been swimming, and my skirt clung to my legs. I had painful chafing on my chest and back from my sports bra and on my thigh from my (still awesome) new Amphipod.
This incredibly sexy result aside, it was a really good run and left me feeling strong. Even though I'm a member of Club 26.2, the fact that I can run 18 miles at all makes me really proud. I also did an experiment to see if I could keep up a solid average pace and still walk at water stops. When I was approaching my house and my mom's (my two designated places), I picked up the pace for about a 1/4 mile, stopped and walked while I drank and refueled, then picked up the pace again for that 1/4 mile back. My pace for the miles including breaks is definitely slower, but other splits are faster. I don't know; I think it works for me.
My focus has improved, too. I only took two walk breaks beyond those for water, one of which was because I gave myself a gigantic hill at mile 17. I definitely want to include some hills in my training, especially in anticipation of the Bix, but my marathon is not a hilly one, so there is no need for me to force myself to run hills while fatigued. When I do my next 20 miler on Sunday, that loop is going to be one of the first ones, not the last.
And now for those splits. The goal pace for this run was 10:46. Here's how I did:
Mile 1: 10:13
Mile 2: 10:24
Mile 3: 10:21
Mile 4: 10:31
Mile 5: 10:44
Mile 6: 10:24
Mile 7: 12:24 (walk/water/Gu break)
Mile 8: 10:24
Mile 9: 10:07
Mile 10: 11:55 (walk/water/Sport Bean break)
Mile 11: 10:48
Mile 12: 10:54
Mile 13: 13:09 (walk/water/Gu break)
Mile 14: 10:37
Mile 15: 10:51
Mile 16: 10:46
Mile 17: 13:30 (the aforementioned hill)
Mile 18: 11:08
Monday, July 07, 2008
The Benefit of Experience
I'm starting to repeat experiences from last year's marathon training, and I am struck by how much better things are going now than they were before.
On Friday, I ran the Firecracker 10K, just like I did last year. Only this time, my experience was worlds better. The race has a 5K and a 10K, which start together. After about a mile, the courses split up, and there's a volunteer with a bullhorn whose job it is to repeat over and over, "10K, up the hill!" (which honestly would be kind of a fun job). The 5K is "fast and flat," but the 10K is described as "hilly and challenging." Last year, I remember going up that first hill, and thinking, "Man, that was a bitch. Good thing that's over!" only to discover hill after hill after hill. Just when I thought I was finished, bam! Another scary steep hill. It wore me out mentally.
Worse, when I ran that 10K last year, I was in the "Wow, I am so strong and amazing that I can just run whatever I want to!" phase. The day I ran that 10K last year, I was supposed to do an easy 3, but I figured, "Why not run twice that distance on a difficult course? And race it?"
Well, the reason why not was that I injured my Achilles tendon and limped for a week, that was why.
This time around, I was ready for the hills. I'd done plenty of hill training, and I knew when to expect each one. I skipped my scheduled 7 mile tempo run for the week and did this one instead.I did not injure myself, and even better, I got a PR! There were also improvements to the race itself, such as the fact that they didn't run out of t-shirts (though they did only have XXL, which fits me like a dress), and, even better, they had ICE CREAM at the finish line. Awesome!
On Sunday, I once again felt like a seasoned veteran. It was the day of my first 20 mile training run of this marathon training time. Last year, 20 miles was the longest I'd ever run, and I was nervous as all get out. Could I really do it? Would it take me all day? Would I get sick or hungry? I was so freaked out about it that I barely slept the night before. Then, I proceded to have a terrible run. My mind was not in the right place at all, I got lost, it was hot, and I had to hurl myself along for the last two miles.
This time, I was confident that I could do it, knowing that I had a great 17 mile run the week before and that I have successfully run farther than 20 miles before. I plotted a fun course for myself and had some good podcasts to listen to along the way. I also enlisted the aid of my mom as a water station, saying I'd be by her house at mile 13 and again at mile 17. My water bottle and packets of Gu were waiting for me, and on the way back, Mom had not only refilled the bottle, but even added ice. It was the greatest tasting thing ever. She even took my picture:
I'm walking, so it's not too bad-ass, but you can at least admire my cute running outfit. And my legs look good.
I finished the run in 3:36, which I was very happy with. And, after some food and an ice bath, I felt just fine for the rest of the day (and today), with the exception of a couple of blisters. Not bad!
On Friday, I ran the Firecracker 10K, just like I did last year. Only this time, my experience was worlds better. The race has a 5K and a 10K, which start together. After about a mile, the courses split up, and there's a volunteer with a bullhorn whose job it is to repeat over and over, "10K, up the hill!" (which honestly would be kind of a fun job). The 5K is "fast and flat," but the 10K is described as "hilly and challenging." Last year, I remember going up that first hill, and thinking, "Man, that was a bitch. Good thing that's over!" only to discover hill after hill after hill. Just when I thought I was finished, bam! Another scary steep hill. It wore me out mentally.
Worse, when I ran that 10K last year, I was in the "Wow, I am so strong and amazing that I can just run whatever I want to!" phase. The day I ran that 10K last year, I was supposed to do an easy 3, but I figured, "Why not run twice that distance on a difficult course? And race it?"
Well, the reason why not was that I injured my Achilles tendon and limped for a week, that was why.
This time around, I was ready for the hills. I'd done plenty of hill training, and I knew when to expect each one. I skipped my scheduled 7 mile tempo run for the week and did this one instead.I did not injure myself, and even better, I got a PR! There were also improvements to the race itself, such as the fact that they didn't run out of t-shirts (though they did only have XXL, which fits me like a dress), and, even better, they had ICE CREAM at the finish line. Awesome!
On Sunday, I once again felt like a seasoned veteran. It was the day of my first 20 mile training run of this marathon training time. Last year, 20 miles was the longest I'd ever run, and I was nervous as all get out. Could I really do it? Would it take me all day? Would I get sick or hungry? I was so freaked out about it that I barely slept the night before. Then, I proceded to have a terrible run. My mind was not in the right place at all, I got lost, it was hot, and I had to hurl myself along for the last two miles.
This time, I was confident that I could do it, knowing that I had a great 17 mile run the week before and that I have successfully run farther than 20 miles before. I plotted a fun course for myself and had some good podcasts to listen to along the way. I also enlisted the aid of my mom as a water station, saying I'd be by her house at mile 13 and again at mile 17. My water bottle and packets of Gu were waiting for me, and on the way back, Mom had not only refilled the bottle, but even added ice. It was the greatest tasting thing ever. She even took my picture:
I'm walking, so it's not too bad-ass, but you can at least admire my cute running outfit. And my legs look good.
I finished the run in 3:36, which I was very happy with. And, after some food and an ice bath, I felt just fine for the rest of the day (and today), with the exception of a couple of blisters. Not bad!
Monday, June 30, 2008
Finding Focus
Internet! I have a problem.
The distances of my long runs are cranking up. Saturday, I ran 17 miles. (As I was running, I kept thinking I had to do 18, probably since that was one of the big distances I ran in training last year. Then I'd remember, "Oh, I only have to do 17. So no big deal." That goes to show you just how warped your brain gets in marathon training, since you think things like that while 17 miles is no big deal, 18 is somehow a more significant challenge, when actually it'd be tacking on well under 15 minutes to the time on my feet. Also, this is a long parenthentical thought.)
Physically, I felt fine. I continued to develop the world's largest blister on my left foot, but other than that and desperately needing a shower, I was in fine shape.
The problem was, after a while, the running started to feel monotonous. I lost focus, and allowed myself to take walk breaks that I honestly didn't need, just to mix things up a bit.
Does anyone have any advice on how to retain focus on a long run?
The distances of my long runs are cranking up. Saturday, I ran 17 miles. (As I was running, I kept thinking I had to do 18, probably since that was one of the big distances I ran in training last year. Then I'd remember, "Oh, I only have to do 17. So no big deal." That goes to show you just how warped your brain gets in marathon training, since you think things like that while 17 miles is no big deal, 18 is somehow a more significant challenge, when actually it'd be tacking on well under 15 minutes to the time on my feet. Also, this is a long parenthentical thought.)
Physically, I felt fine. I continued to develop the world's largest blister on my left foot, but other than that and desperately needing a shower, I was in fine shape.
The problem was, after a while, the running started to feel monotonous. I lost focus, and allowed myself to take walk breaks that I honestly didn't need, just to mix things up a bit.
Does anyone have any advice on how to retain focus on a long run?
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