The Solo Run

I announced it on Twitter, and probably on Facebook the other week, but I don't think that trickled into my blog.

I pulled out of the Myrtle Beach Marathon.

This is the first race that I have ever DNS'ed (did not start).

The longer story behind my DNS is that I've been injured since the first week of January. Between foot surgery years ago and an already weakened left ankle, my left arch swelled up, my ankle was tight, every step I took was agony, likely because of over use, old shoes, or just...bad luck. As I started to heal with the help of rest, active release therapy, and a lot of foam rolling, the marathon drew closer and closer and all I had to show for it was one long run of 18 miles.

Coach T and I met, discussed that I would skip the tapering period before the marathon and, instead, ramp up. I felt like this was a doable strategy. I'd run marathons on stranger training regiments. I'm stronger, faster, more consistent...after Coach and I had dinner, I knew I could do it.

The night before I was supposed to head out for 12-13 miles, I was up the wall with stress, anxiety, and guilt over whether or not I should do the race. All I could hear in my mind was "Failure. You gave up. You are not an athlete. Liar. Fraud." I cried. I paced around the apartment. I couldn't tell if I was lying to myself about the pain and I was wimping out or if I was actually injured (spoiler alert: I was actually injured. But it was a unique experience to test physical pain versus mental denial).

In the end, I was so paralyzed by my inability to know how I would be healing that I had to make a decision. The stress of hoping to not be injured was driving me mad. My foot was still swollen, my ankle still tender, and crying over a 12 mile run was the final straw:

It was time for a mandated break.

In the end, this would have been my fourth marathon. I don't want to take the little vacation time I have, to only hopefully PR a marathon, much less finish it without injury. I didn't want to spend the energy I have left at the end of the day worrying about something that is supposed to be a joy...and, finally, I have some lofty goals for the end for the year (sub-6 half IM in Augusta). To do a marathon in February that may have lasting implications for my foot, right as training season revs up? It wasn't a sacrifice I was willing to make.

I'm still fighting to remember that injuries are things to be taken seriously, that there are other marathons, and that sometimes, NOT training is the smartest training decision that can be made.

But, my brain and determination are stubborn. So, to prove to myself that I haven't bitched out on training, I hit every workout this week AND I got up at 5:30 this morning to meet team RAGE for a 6:30 am run.

Rachel and Victoria had a much longer run on the calendars, but Coach T let me get to Saturday morning run early to go out with them as they begin to train to start a run in the early morning for race day.

The sun had not yet risen. And it was COLD. Like, 18 degrees according to my iPhone cold. I had my headlamp and LED flasher (who says I don't train for Ragnar?). I wore long spandex, shorts, a long sleeve tech shirt, thick tech bright orange jacket (thanks, Jason!), two pairs of gloves with hand warmers (thanks, Mom!), ear warmers and baseball hat. Bundled is an understatement. And I was still cold.

As we were getting ready to go, Coach jumped out of her car and rallied with us to run a quick 6 miles. What a gift. How amazing it was to spend a few miles running with Coach. When we hit 3, Coach ran ahead, Victoria and Rachel kept going on Beach while I turned around to head back to the car. Three miles, alone.

It's been a long time since I have run alone.

Aside I headed back, the sun was rising over Rock Creek, squirrels were stirring up the leaves, I saw a runner here or there, but mostly, I was alone.

I stopped my Garmin at one point to stand on a small bridge over the creek and watch the water rush past. Then I picked up the pace and held sub-9's the rest of the way home.

My confidence boosted by the lack of pain in my ankle and foot, the success of getting up early, the excitement of running with Coach...all of that seemed to churn up everything else on my mind in a cathartic manner.

I spent the better portion of my solo run back to the car pouring my heart out to the frigid air. I confessed my deepest thoughts and feelings to imaginary running companions. Perhaps, if you want to know the state of my heart, it is best to run long with me.

Running strips away a certain amount of armor that we all have. I am the most honest with myself in those moments and miles. I love myself the most; I forgive myself the most.

As I write this, my ankle and foot are tender, a little reminder that I made the right decision about the race, for which I am grateful. But the good news is that it all seems to be on the path to healing and I've overcome a huge mental obstacle for me - I am not a failure for pulling out of a race. I am learning to listen to my body. And there will be other marathons.

Running Partners - An Essay

I have always been a solo runner. I trained for and ran my first marathon totally alone. I didn’t know there was a running community. I didn’t know that running groups really existed in the numbers that they do, or that there were people as slow as I was at the time. I didn’t even really know about running stores, now that I think about it. Chadd actually took me to the Georgetown Running Store after my face went numb following my first 15 mile run (I didn’t know about Gu or that perhaps running with Gatorade was a good idea). Please don’t ask how I got myself marathon-deep without knowing any of this. I ran my first marathon in a cotton, long-sleeve shirt.

I valued the time alone. When I was training that first time around, I was struggling through the aftermath of a rough break-up, a full college course load, and work. I “wrote” a lot of the creative fiction required for my English degree on the Capital Crescent Path. I listened to the same playlist for hours on end. I cried or swore my way through that final mile more times than not.

I was afraid to run with other people. I was sure everyone was so much faster than I was; that they never stopped to walk, that I would only ruin their run. I ran once or twice with a co-worker. She was gracious enough to run with me and pretend that I wasn’t pulling her back (I most certainly was). I read articles in Runners’ World about the companionship of running partners, but I felt that these people were the elites, the dedicated, the run-in-ice-and-snow types. I was not.

I trained for a second marathon, again, by myself. A lot of lonely hours spent on the Capital Crescent trail went by, and by the time it was over, I had PRed, but not met my sub-four goal. My same running friend had jumped in to run the last 6 miles with me (a gift I can never repay – I’d not have finished without her). And yet, I still didn’t want to run with people, despite that race-saving experience.

When I signed up for my third marathon, I was still without a running group, without a coach, without a running partner. One thing I did have was a massive, terrifying goal: a sub-4 marathon. I had pulled my original 4:22 to a 4:10, but I was inconsistent, not committed, and again – alone. Running alone had gone from a private, joyful experience to a self-contained torture.

Then I met Coach T. Then I went to track practice. I was still alone – not fast enough to be with one group, but not slow enough for the pack right behind them. Alone, surrounded by others. It was at least a step in the together-ness direction.

Then I had my first long run as instructed by Coach T. I drove to Peirce Mill with all of my running gear. I had my Gu, my hand fuel belt, my calf sleeves (though I don’t think I used them). I didn’t have a Garmin, or even a digital watch. Victoria had told me that she’d be at the long run and she, too, had about 10 miles to go through. My palms were sweating the whole way to the meet-up. Could I make it through 10 miles pacing with someone? What if I couldn’t keep up? What if I had to walk?
Instead, Victoria stayed with me. She encouraged me up and down the hills along Rock Creek Parkway. She let me pause to eat a Gu on the way back, but that was it. Running with her, I realized I COULD do 10 miles without stopping and that it didn’t feel bad. In fact, it felt good. Really good. Like I could do this again, and again, and again, good. But we didn’t very often – our training schedules were wildly different for the majority of 2012.

Fast forward almost a year.

We planned to race Myrtle Beach Marathon together along with Rachel. More accurately put, they convinced me to join them. It became a beacon to me while I was unemployed. I have to get up because I have to run with my partners. Saturday morning runs with Rachel and Victoria became one of the few things that I actually did with regularity and excitement.

I got home from Atlanta after Christmas, slept terribly, listening to the wind blowing in a snow and ice storm the last weekend of the year. My alarm went off and I headed to the park. I’d fumbled my way through my morning -  couldn’t find my Gus, or my handheld water belt, or my watch, and my Garmin was dead. But there was Victoria, standing there in the fog next to Coach, the rest of the group gone out for their runs.

Off we went. We only had 12 miles this morning, but the distance felt insurmountable. The air was heavy with what would soon be rain, ice, and snow.

The first few miles, we caught up on traveling for the holidays – our families, my new job, gossip from Twitter – then we fell silent. The weather had kept many people at home; we rapidly became the road's only inhabitants.

At the turn-around point, the rain began to fall.

Per usual, I stopped briefly to eat a Gu, then we began the trek home.

The weather picked up and turned to something between water and solid. My thighs were stinging with the rain and sleet. My gloves and hat were becoming water-logged and I could feel my socks absorbing any precipitation that my spandex had shed. But our bodies felt good, despite the elements. We had to pace check several times (something Victoria does since she reliably monitors her Garmin).

The only things I heard for the next few miles were the sounds of the weather falling through the branches around us, our quiet, matched footsteps, hushed exhalations from our mouths that turned to steam, and the calm, working beats of my own heart. I had a brief second imagining that our bodies were machines, or horses, with the seemingly unending ability to run the distance. This is a rare, silent moment of intense beauty that life sometimes gives you.

The rain turned to snow.

Our conversation picked up again to topics that build a friendship, or perhaps better than that – a running partnership. We ran through serious discussions as we did miles. The last three miles, we built faster and faster, silent again, intent on finishing strong, despite the weather. Sometimes, the silent miles are the most powerful, lost in your own thoughts, but unconsciously aware that you are, in fact, not alone.

------

A note: I've written, re-written, and started from scratch this essay more than I can count. It's been sitting, lonely in a word document since the afternoon after that snowy run. Despite how much effort I've put into it, I still can't find the appropriate words to describe the importance of this run and of running partners - particularly mine - but I couldn't let it sit anymore without the moment slipping further and further from thought. I feared that the more I wrote and rewrote, the more I would lose the truthfulness of that morning. Apologies to Victoria for any embarrassment this may have caused outing her as my running partner. 

T-Minus Three Days to Flying Pig

Hi. I'm not dead. 

I've just been a terribly non responsive member of society lately. Aside from my day job, most emails have gone unsent, volunteer work has not been done, planning or writing or anything has been on hold.

Why? 

I don't know. It's like I suddenly stopped caring. Perhaps I reached that edge where having a lot on my plate was suddenly not a motivator and instead, it was a paralyzing factor. Or maybe it's because I really enjoy training and after I train, all I want to do is sit on my butt and think about training/watch tv. Whatever the reason, if my begging off on my friend/volunteer/teammate/anything duties affected you, I'm sorry. I came home on Monday night and had a small cry about how I let everyone down and all this that and the other. Chadd got ready to go to the gym, told me to make a list, lock the cats out and just go one by one down my task list. It's embarrassing how little time it took to do everything.

So, now that I've put my big girl panties on, it's time to talk about a big event that is happening in 3 days:

My third marathon.

I chose the Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati because...I have no idea why (honestly). My recollection is that part of it was timing (late Spring marathon!), part of it was that Runner's World said it would be fun (if you love hills!), and partly because I had just spent too much time at the Marine Corps Marathon Expo when picking up my 10k bib. 

This has been a really weird pre-race experience. It's all jumbled in my head, so let's try to break it down:

1) One is the Loneliest Number. This is the first time I'm doing a major race (read: marathon) without support crew. The first time, my mom, my then boyfriend, and Chadd were there. My second marathon, Katie and Chadd came out...but this time...it's me and the road.

I totally underestimated how awesome it is to have crew. During the RnR National Half, I saw Chadd at 6, accidentally saw Cyndi at 10, and my coach just after 12. And every time I got tired between those, I started to think about how I would see someone soon and that powered me on. This is not to discount the friends I'm going with (including Justin, Ayla, and Amanda - some of my Ragnar rocks). But these amazing friends will be running their own races. 

I suddenly feel naked.

I've been told that this is a VERY friendly marathon. I think it may be one of the reasons I saw in the RW article. They apparently close the course down after the allotted time, but they continue to support runners after they've moved them to the sidewalks. Now THAT is friendly.

2) Holy Hills, Batman. So, in a moment of true intelligence, I didn't look at the course elevation profile prior to registering. And now that I've looked at it, I have the pre-race nervous pees. I'm amazing with rolling hills. Probably because of my spinning, I'm totally cool with glorious rolling hills. May go towards explaining why I loved the RnR National Half course. What I do not particularly love is a 3+ mile incline. This gives me flashbacks to Ragnar PA where I had 10+ miles up Mt. Pocono. There is actually a photo of me somewhere slumped on the ground, considering death after that.

Ah. There they are.

Y'all. My COACH had a temper tantrum in 2010 when she did this race. Granted, she also placed second in her age group...but, yikes. The positive to this is that my coach knows this race and has been able to give me a lot of insight into it. We've agreed that I shouldn't go out trying to bank time in the first half. Instead, I'm going to hold a 9:30 for the first half, check my watch at the 10k, the half, the 18 and the 22. The back half of the race is my strong suit - again, cue rolling hills.

3) As in...Sub-4. This may have been the wrong race to try and have such a strong PR. But I WANT that sub 4. I mean, that's the real reason I'm running another marathon (or that's my publicly facing reason, I could keep a shrink in business forever if we went into my addiction to endurance sports). 

I keep telling myself that the last marathon I did, I did not run a smart race. I ran without regard for strategy. I got a late start in the wrong corral, I fought my way back to my group and was totally spent by 20. 

4) Bigger, Better, Faster, Stronger. It's weird to have a marathon simultaneously be a non-event and cause me anguish. I've been impressively nonchalant about it in the past months. Mostly because I spend all of my anxiety time thinking about the 70.3 in August. Maybe it's also because I've distracted myself with unemployment, two job changes, and a bunch of other stuff. It's not like worrying MORE about a marathon makes it easier. It's not like this is a part of training, but in the back of my mind I feel like I'm behind on worrying. It's almost like I haven't gotten over my worry process and now I'm not going to be prepared.

In reality, I should be confident. I haven't been worried because I have this awesome thing called a coach. Coach T has taken all the pressure off of me because all I have to do is what she says. And I've done just that. I haven't been sore after any of my runs. I have comfortably held 9:30's and below on all my training runs. I need a steady 9:07 to pull this out of the bag, which means I trained at the right pace and I should be able to pull out a sub 4. I will run a smart race because I was smart when I was training.

5) The Future. Unlike the last two times I've trained, I haven't gotten sick of training. Sure, I wasn't stoked about going out for 18 miles, but it's not been the same imposition as it's been in the past. I've actually enjoyed it. I'll credit my coach with a big part of this. I've already started thinking about marathons for the fall if I don't hit sub-4 (and let's be honest...even if I DO hit sub 4...). So, unlike the last times where I've had goals (a time goal AND a goal to never do a marathon again if I made my goal), this time I just have one goal: sub 4. And if I don't make it, I just have to try again.

So, in just 3 days time, you will see a very brief post. It will hold the results and probably another marathon goal - sub-4 or not.

Let me know if you'll be in Cincinnati! I'd love to say hi!

5 Random Thoughts

Goodness. What happens when you go on vacation and come back to a new office policy banning social media (blogger included). I need to get better about finishing my posts at night instead of leaving the editing to the morning.

Anyway - Miami was great - thanks to everyone for your support and well wishes! We had an awesome time and Chadd did really well. 

I have a post coming, probably this weekend, that I'm REALLY excited about, so maybe that will make up for the brevity of this post and the lack of posts for the past couple weeks.

Tonight is a random assortment of thoughts.

1) I really love Fitocracy. If you aren't on Fitocracy, you're missing out. It's basically a social media network for fitness people and I love it. And there's a forum that I totally love and am geeking out over. Here's the link to sign up - and we'll automatically follow each other. Leveling up is literally why I'll do another set of anything. And it's free. So, there's no reason to not do it. 

2) I really love track practice. Since it's spring break, those pesky students aren't having games on the track (must you have spring sports?) so we don't have to run around a block. Tonight we did 4x1200s. Goal was to start slightly lower than threshold and get faster with each set. My times looked like this:

1 - 6:02

2 - 6:06 (oops)

Coach said before our third set that if we couldn't get faster on this third set, this would be our last set - no fourth set. 

3 - 5:48 (f*ck yeah.)

4 - 5:49

One of the girls in my group said "there's no motivation like telling an endurance athlete 'you can't'" and isn't that the truth. I felt like I was freaking flying on those last two sets. 

3) My coach is the greatest. We had our one on one tonight post track workout to go over the approach to the Flying Pig Marathon (more on that later), how things were going currently, and to hang out. I love the fact that my coach takes a very personal approach to training. We went to Rocklands BBQ and sat outside with our food and a beer. I mean, really. How do you not love a coach like that?? If you're training for any major event, I strongly recommend a coach (specifically, my coach) because it takes the pressure off, mentally. I am not responsible for coming up with my workouts and worrying about if they're the right ones or if I miss one what will happen. I am simply responsible for doing my best and keeping my coach informed. Talk about a load off of your shoulders.

4) My weekend workouts are making me scared excited...which I am dubbing scaxited. Go with me here. Saturday I have my first real brick workout - 1-1:15 group bike ride, 20-30 minute run. I am still scared of my bike even though I'm in love with it (in scove?). Fear is a powerful motivator so I'm really stoked to get on the bike and conquer gears and clipping in/out. And then Sunday, after I figure out how to fit in my Easter celebrations at the church, I have a 15-16 mile run. I am anticipating not feeling amazing on Sunday afternoon in terms of energy, but pretty freaking awesome in terms of perceived invincibility. 

5) If you haven't read my how-to on track etiquette, please do. Or stay off the track before you or someone around you gets hurt. Also: DON'T TEXT MIDTRACK WORKOUT. Augh some people...

And that's all!

When Running Becomes Who You Are, Not What You Do

The first mile I ever ran (without stopping) took me 15 minutes, flat. Huffing and puffing, I hit STOP on the treadmill and felt like I had just climbed Everest. I felt so proud of myself. I ran a mile. Without stopping. I can still feel the blood pulsing in my temple as I woozily got off the treadmill at the Y in Oviedo.

Thursday night after my spin class, half way through my half hour core workout, I was thinking about how I'd found myself on the road to an Ironman 70.3 and, let's be real, a full Ironman. I thought of myself on that treadmill and the dogged pursuit of a full, running mile.

Chadd is fond of reminding me that I can run a half marathon with very little training when I'm down on myself. How did I get from that 1, 15 minute mile to a half marathon in the tank? I wished I knew. I felt like I had accidentally stumbled into this life. Don't get me wrong, I still felt very grateful, but it felt less like a goal, more like an accident on Thursday.

Sunday afternoon, while I was cleaning the house and Chadd was at the gym, I had a bit of an emotional breakdown. Bryan, the voice of sanity in my crazy workout world , and I made a pact a few years ago: I would do an Ironman if he would do a marathon (right, Bryan? I can't remember the exact terms, but they were outrageous). I was at a point in the job I held then where I was so miserable and down on myself (just like I felt before I registered for the half Ironman) that I was ready to take the deal. Whenever Bryan or I have been particularly down or in need of encouragement, this video gets passed back and forth via email. Maybe y'all think that's the exact opposite of encouragement, but between Bryan and myself, it's the perfect medicine.

My joints aching, I decided to watch that video again. Halfway through, I totally lost my cool and started crying. As I described to Bryan, "I legit had a 'hold the cat and sob' moment while watching the 'you will do this' video." But I wasn't crying from sadness or exhaustion (ok, maybe some exhaustion). I was crying because I so clearly saw myself on that treadmill, 10 years ago, begging my body for that mile and because I am so proud of myself. It was like watching myself through all my running accomplishments:

- the first, wretched mile
- the first long run (9 miles, in a victoria's secret cotton outfit - bad bad bad plan)
- the first time I did 20 miles
- my first expo (Marine Corps marathon!)
- running a 5k turkey trot with my brother and mom
- the first time I ran after foot surgery
- the second marathon and all the tears, toenails and blood that came from that one
- Ragnar.
- Ragnar Ragnar Ragnar
- My first sub-8 mile (downhill at the 4 courts 4)
- The first time I pulled a half marathon out of thin air on no training (Marine Corps Half Marathon)
- My brother's first half marathon

The list goes on. But suddenly, running didn't seem like something I do...it became something I am. And I was so damn proud that all I could do was cry. I clutched our big, stupid cat, crying into his fur and said, "this isn't very iron, is it?" Or maybe that's what being Iron is all about.

This week was a great week in training - I almost hit 9 hours of training, and minus a very tweaky shoulder, I felt fabulous. I can see myself getting in better shape, stronger, healthier. I learned how to swim effectively (and less scarily!), ran 12 miles at a decent pace and got away with not being sore on Sunday.

Best part of the week? My Saturday run showed off weather like this:

So, moral of the story is this - you have it in you, whatever it is that you want to do. Sometimes, you just have to make it past the first 15 minute mile of your life with one foot in front of the other.

A Lesson in Listening to Your Coach

My head feels like it weighs 50 pounds right now. My lower back has revolted - my spin is broadcasting that it's in about 3 pieces and I think I had the deepest sleep I've ever known last night. Further, my quads may have issued a hit on me (and I don't blame them).

In short - track practice was last night!

I really love track practice. There's something about being around a bunch of runners, all with the same goal in mind: speed work. The key, without giving away too much of this post, is knowing how much speed to use.

Last night's workout consisted of:
1x3200 at race pace (for me, this is roughly an 8:40-8:50 or a 2:10-2:15 lap time)
1x1600 at race pace
2-4x800 at threshold pace

After my 3/4 mile warm up, I went out for my 3200. "Keep your pace in mind," Coach T said to our group, "I'm keeping my eye on those of you who are going too fast." (Cue foreshadowing music)

First lap: 2:01 (hmm a bit fast)
2nd lap: 2:04 (come on, slow down)
3rd lap: 2:03 (no, still too much)
* join two other ladies running about my pace*
4th lap: 2:07 (come on, slow down)
5-7th laps: between 2:05-2:10.
8th lap: NO IDEA (Houston, we have a problem)

Y'all, I did my 3200 in something like 16:20. I run sub 8s when I am LUCKY and running down hill in a 10k. 10k pace was not the goal tonight. Marathon pace was the specific goal. Epic fail. It was so hard to stay in pace, though.

The 1600 was a similar story. I just really wanted to run with my two groupmates! Too bad they're hella fast. I KNEW there was bad news coming as I huffed and puffed through my last lap - specifically what Coach T told me NOT to do.

In all fairness, were you outside last night??? The weather was second only to how amazing it was tonight. Nothing short of perfect running weather.

Coach knocked me down to 2 800's because I was already trashed. I did those two sets at what SHOULD have been my 3200 pace. If I'd held on, I probably could have shredded 3 800's in sub 8's...but instead, I barely got through 2x800 and my 3/4 mile cool down.

Lesson learned, Coach. I promise I'll slow down!

And then I slept for 12+ Hours

Saturday's workout(s) were AWESOME.

I'm finding it easier and easier to get up near the buttcrack of dawn. Maybe I really am a morning person - who knew!

I met up with the distrance running group that Coach T trains at Peirce Mill. I've never been there, even though it's ridiculously close to my house, and had first run nerves. One of the traps I get into is not trying new routes. It's a lot easier, mentally, to have mental landmarks. But, this whole triathlon thing is most certainly about trying new things.

When I run on my own, I usually clock around an 8:40-9 minute mile time. This is slightly deceptive since I tend to take a walk break every 2-3 miles (I chalk this up to when typical water stops show up in races). But Saturday's run was 10 miles, averaging a 9:30-9:40 pace (no faster) and with the goal of not stopping. That was a mental barrier waiting to be destroyed.

I got to meet Victoria in person, which was really cool. She's a blogger celebrity and my own personal hero (especially for her swim prowess). She very kindly offered to run with me and not let me get lost on the trails. And off we went. It was a gorgeous day for a run, especially along Rock Creek. We finished up around 1:35 (she went on to do another 2 miles): average mile time: 9:30 - bingo.

I had my first back to back workout scheduled for Saturday, so I got home, ate some pretzels (yaay salt!) and headed down to the pool. What I didn't know was that from 9-11 at the pool is basically kids-a-palooza. Incredibly frustrated, I left, intending to call my coach and ask how to fix this situation. I had plans in Baltimore, then I needed to be available all the rest of the evening to support Chadd for the Ninja Warrior stuff. Thankfully, I had my times wrong on my Baltimore plans, so I walked back over to the Y and pulled off a very bad 45 minutes in the pool. I started out frustrated. My form felt bad, I felt slow (and was certainly the slowest in the pool, save for the gentleman in lane 3 learning to swim) and it was crowded and I felt like a huge inconvenience to everyone.

Then I remembered the crucial swimming tip Victoria had given me: look down.

This sounds like an incredibly easy tip and one that I'm sure many of you have been doing without thinking. This was a huge lightbulb moment for me. My form improved dramatically. I still struggled with the endurance side of swimming, but at least my butt wasn't 6 inches lower than the rest of my body.

I guess this is the equivalent of when someone tells me they're struggling with running and I have 3 guesses on  form problems that, when fixed, dramatically improve the person's experience.

In case you were wondering, those tips are:
1. Run neutrally. I see a lot of people slumped forward, which cuts off your lung capacity. Sit up.
2. Tuck your hips under. This should take some pressure off your knees and engage your glutes. Big muscles give you a big hand.
3. Relax. Arms should swing naturally, shoulders away from the ears, look ahead.

I was surprised with how great I felt Saturday after both workouts. I jumped in the shower and felt awesome driving out to see some of my favorite Ragnarians (def: people who run Ragnar).

We gorged on wings and bbq: (seriously, do yourself a favor and go to Kloby's in Columbia)

Happy Ragnarians were we:

I jumped back in the car to Alexandria (my muscles weren't really happy with the hour plus I spent in the car). After watching Chadd do ninja stuff, we headed home. I managed to eat a little pizza (ok, a lot of pizza), and have precisely 1 beer before passing out at the amazing hour of 9:30. I had promised Chadd we'd watch more X-Files, but instead, I slept for 12 hours. Bless his heart, he didn't wake me and instead let me sleep until I woke up at 10 the next morning. Talk about starting a rest day off the right way.

Of course, why would one really rest on a rest day? I spent the majority of yesterday getting an unintended workout: Ikea. There's nothing like walking what feels like miles through DIY furniture and modular living land then spending 3+ hours in heavy lifting mode. But, the condo is almost re-done. Pictures when it's done, I promise!

Taking it to the Track

Track practice last night when remarkably better than expected - I held a fairly consistent lap time of around 2:10 - 2:20. We did a 3/4 mile warm up, then 3x2000s (five laps around the track) with 3 minute breaks between then a 3/4 mile cool down.

I was surprised at how "easy" it was for me. I suppose when you get to take a 3 minute break between 1.25 mile runs, it's not cardio strength you're testing, but instead, consistency. I was so incredibly mindful of pace, form, stride. It was a real eye opener, I actually felt myself speed up and slow down. When you're just trying to hit miles, you really lose this perspective. I really believe that track practice is going to improve my mile time. Oh, and I can't leave this out...having Coach T cheer me on every lap was a real booster. Man, I love having a coach. 

Another big change for me was the group workout. I know I'm a fitness instructor, so working out in groups shouldn't be anything new, but it certainly was. A track is a really intimidating place if you've never been and since this was my first track workout when it was busy (all my bootcamp experiences were at like...6am), I was really glad to have a team around me, even if we didn't run together, it was fun to belong to a little cluster and chat as we were leaving the track.

Since I kinda lambasted swimmers yesterday, I'll give y'all a few tips I learned last night about track practice, least I show favoritism. Runners, especially those on a track get irritable when some basic rules are broken.

When on the track, think of yourself as a car and the track as a highway. This means:

• Use caution when entering/exiting the track. Don't cut people off with sudden movements.
• Check your blind spot. Especially since a lot of runners are mindful to run quiet, you may not hear someone coming up in the lane you're about to move into. Look over your shoulder.
• Lanes determine speed. Crazy fast? Have fun in lane 1. Moderate speed? 3-4. Walking? Lane 5. Just like driving - faster cars to the left.
• Pass with care. Lane 2 is primarily for passing. Check your blind spot and make sure you don't ride up on the runners in front of you. No one likes a bumper rider.

Runners on a track are usually there for business. Get in, run your laps, cool off, get out. So, it won't be any surprise if you suddenly find a surly bunch of runners at the track. Friendliness is saved for long runs and solo runs. I have no idea why this is, but, there you have it. But, I promise to always give you a smile.

Also - go ahead and break out the neon. I was so in love with my bright pink arm warmers last night (thanks, Mom!)

My Body Does What? Also: Porta-Potties

4 days til the marathon and my fears are actually starting to lift away.

I keep replaying Chadd telling me "it's just running.  It's not like this isn't something you don't know how to do, just go run."

It's also made so much better by the fact that my two very dear friends, Maureen and FJ, have volunteered to run a couple miles with me.  Technically, it's not allowed, but no one is ever stopped from running for a couple miles.  Maureen and I have a history of running together--accidentally or on purpose.  She and I usually wind up beating our PRs with each other because we think we're keeping the other back...that's how I crushed the Cherry Blossom 10 Miler at an 8:09 pace.

FJ is my iron man.  He ran Ragnar with me and literally had that name on the back of his shirt: "Iron Man."  FJ recently qualified for Boston and is a total inspiration to me--he's volunteered to run as many miles with me as I want.  And since he did his qualifying marathon two weeks ago, I'm not too concerned about his ability to do as many miles as I need.  I've asked him to be there for miles 16-20ish.

I've decided to run without my ipod for the majority of the race.  That truly was one of the best things about the marathon the first time--was the sound of runners.  It's a symphony of foot steps, breathing, whispers of encouragement, occasionally laughter, the crowd cheering, marching bands playing...and it feels at times like you are simply carried along by the runners around you.

Yes, there are moments when your body is in excruciating pain...probably best summarized by this WaPo article

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/special/section/Marine-Corps-Marathon-2010-Ready-or-not-graphic/index.html

I love especially the bit about the brain:

"The brain does not want the body to run into harm, so it will reduce its electrical impulses to the muscles--in other words, it will stop telling them to move.


Ready?...Or Not: The untrained brain has little or no experience with an effort of this magnitude.  If the body pushes too hard, the brain receives a cacophony of threatening signals--Temperature is rising! Fuel is disappearing! My engines can't take much more of this, Captain!"

That author is CLEARLY a runner.

Then you read articles like this:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/10/19/AR2010101903617.html

And you think to yourself: I am not lucky to run, I am blessed to run.  I was passed in the Army 10 miler by a double amputee doing the race on two prosthetics.  I felt like a huge jerk because I was just mentally complaining about how much it hurt and how much I didn't want to do it...it's the little reminders that keep your mind and body putting one foot in front of the other and to smile while doing it.

In the humor section...runners around the world are giving a big thumbs up to the Marine Corps Marathon race director who very clearly told Comedy Central to shove it when they asked if they could use the porta potties for the Steward/Colbert rallies the day before.

http://www.aolnews.com/nation/article/stewart-colbert-rallies-looking-for-a-few-good-porta-potties/19664942?a_dgi=aolshare_facebook

I love comedy, I love Stewart and Colbert, and I wish I could go to the rallies (I'm probably skipping in favor of the race expo and staying off my feet as much as possible since my angry heel is still, well, angry) but guys....the race has been planned for months and while I'm sure it will come through, your permit hasn't even been approved yet...and we've had ours for months.  And let me tell you, I don't believe you for one second that Comedy Central would be able to get them cleaned out and restocked in time for our race.  Don't throw a fit and tell us we're being unfair.  I paid good money for those porta potties to be there and clean, well-stocked, and useable for me when I'm running.  So unless some of the money that Comedy Central was offering to the MCM was going to go to crediting my race fee or to the Injured Marines fund, you can find your own potties.

A big heart felt thank you to the race director.  Thanks for standing up for us.  I'll think of you during all of my bathroom stops before/during/after the race.

The Ups and Downs of Marathoning

Marathon count down: 5 days

I've been going over my training again and again in my head--the only run I didn't get in was my last 8 miles because of the conference last week.  I may try to get in something small tomorrow night just to stay loose and reassure myself.

I keep thinking about the pain of the last marathon.  I'm reminded of women talking about childbirth--that you must lose your mind or your memory if you think of doing it a second/third/fourth/etc. time.  Marathoning is like that.  The first time, you have no idea what you're in for.  Sure, training you threw up in a trashcan in the middle of campus, lost some toenails, and were sore more often than not....but you know, how bad could it be?  I was definitely nervous, but not like I am now.

Now, I remember how painful it was.  I have this searing memory of somewhere around mile 22-23 thinking my legs would never move forward again.  It was like running through concrete.  And finishing?  There was this momentary relief, then this irrational fear: what if my support crew can't find me? Why isn't there a place for me to sit down?  Can't someone see I just finished a marathon?  Why are they asking me to keep moving forward?  Please, someone, help me.

What I should be focusing on is this: the first hill was like cake, running through Georgetown was easy, I felt great when I saw Chadd and my mom at mile 11.  Running around the mall? Awesome.  And sprinting up the final hill to the finish line?  I did it.  I should remember the relief sinking in, how I cried when I got my official time and how freaking happy I was.  I was in so much pain, but it felt really good, I was so proud of myself.

See, running a marathon is really truly all in your head.

The final piece of the puzzle is this: it's nearly impossible to control all aspects of a marathon.  I've trained well, I've cross trained, I'm in the middle of hydrating, I will be well rested...but there are still strong possibilities that I could have a bad running day...I could crap my pants at mile 20 (seriously, these things happen), I could hit the wall...but:

I'm spending the rest of the week not talking about how nervous I am and instead focusing on the fact that I do love running, that regardless of the outcome.  Regardless of how I do this Sunday, I did myself proud during training and since I am almost positive I'll finish, I'm telling myself that despite my time, finishing a marathon twice is enough.  I can truly call myself a marathoner (K said that once I run 2, I can say marathoner).

If you'd like a good laugh...or perhaps reason to never run one:

http://www.expressnightout.com/content/2010/10/marathon-horror-stories.php

I think they're hilarious, but then again, that might be runner humor.

Plans plans plans

Quick update...plans for the week!
Food:

Monday:

-       Breakfast: Cereal, peach

-       Snack: Yogurt

-       Lunch: Amy’s meal, carrots, 100 cal pack

-       Snack: Banana

-       Dinner: Big salad, chicken

Tuesday:

-       Breakfast: Cereal, peach

-       Snack: Yogurt

-       Lunch: Salad, cheese, triscuits, 100 cal pack

-       Snack: Popcorn

-       Dinner: “grilled” veggies, chicken, rice

Wednesday:

-       Breakfast: Cereal, applesauce

-       Snack: Yogurt

-       Lunch: “grilled veggies” and rice leftovers, 100 cal pack

-       Snack: Popcorn

-       Dinner: Pita thingys

Thursday:

-       Breakfast: Cereal, banana

-       Snack: Yogurt

-       Lunch: Pita, 100 cal pack

-       Snack: Veggies

-       Dinner: Whatever will wants

wiWill comes into town on Thursday night, hence the wild card.  

Working out:

Monday: 20 minute run, 20-30 minute full body weights

Tuesday: Step

Wednesday: 40-50 minute run (my beginning runner's group will meet for this first time this night, so I'll likely have a very light workout here)

RThursday: 40-50 minute run

Friday: Off

Saturday: 8 mile run

Sunday: 20-20-20

More later!

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