Monday, October 26, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Ends and Beginnings...
My alarm went off at 4:45a.m. this morning, but I was awake long before that. I slept last night, but woke up at least once an hour, frightened that I had slept through the alarm, afraid that I may sleep through one of the most important days of my life. I waited for the alarm before getting out of bed, then showered, applied the slightest bit of under-eye concealer and mascara (I didn't want the mortician to be horrified if my body should arrive at the morgue later in the day), dressed in my laid-out clothes, ate half of a plain bagel and half of a banana, drank half of a lemon-lime Gatorade, and waited for Caroline to pick me up.
At 5:15 Caroline picked me up from my house, along with her very sweet and supportive husband and sister, and we drove to the West Falls Church Metro where we boarded a metro train jam-packed with runners. When we finally made it to the Runner's Village we waited in the porta-potty line, twice, to try to make sure that we had fully emptied our bladders.
At about 7:45 or so we made our way to our corral at the start line. You line up based on your expected finish time. Well, most of us do. This is the Marine Corps Marathon and many disabled veterans race too, in wheelchairs and with hand-cycles. What they do is so much harder than what we do. They start first. Then the competitive runners are behind them. Then the rest of us start. From the time the start gun (cannon) went off, it was another 16 minutes before we actually crossed the start line.
As we waited in the start corral, I noticed eyeryone else's D-tag (chip attached to your shoe to track your time) had their bib number printed on it, and mine didn't. I figured I needed to spin the little tag thingy around, so I did. No bib number. Caroline and I realized at the same time what I had done. I attached the direction half and not the half with the chip in it. I immediately knew the consequences of this mistake. There would never be an official record of me having run the race. If I finished I would have the pictures (MarathonFoto takes pictures of you along the way), and I would have the medal, but no record of my splits and of my finish time. I wanted to vomit, right there, before I had taken one step of the 26.2 miles. How in the hell was I going to qualify for Boston now? Seriously though, it was in that moment that I realized that it didn't matter. I couldn't care less. This was never about anyone else. This was something I was doing for me. If no one else ever knows I did it, or cares that I did it, what difference could that possibly make to me? Logistically, however, it made it impossible for my mother and trainer/friend to have any idea of where I was going to be so that they could follow me along the route.
Everyone that I know that has run this race before told me about all the adrenaline that was going to have on race day, I don't know what that feels like, but I was excited - like I was going on an f-ing vacation or something (it did not take me long to understand that this was not going to feel like a vacation.) The gun (cannon) goes off, and here we go, well, 16 minutes later anyway. Felt good. Start off by the Pentagon, then on some parkway (maybe Spout Run Parkway), and through the Palisades and down M-street in Georgetown. That was the first 9 or 10 miles I think. I had finally warmed up and took Andy's Under Armor shirt off. The weather was beyond perfect. If I had called God up and requested a specific set of weather conditions, it could not have been better. It was cold in the very early morning, but by the time the sun was all the way up, it was truly beautiful.
I had heard that this race was a very entertaining event, and that proved to be delightfully accurate. There are spectators with signs, some with 80's outfits and Cindy Lauper on a boombox, groups of singers and bands, and other random things to keep your mind off of the pain. I think what I found to be the best entertainment was reading the shirts of other runners. Some were funny (a husband and wife - husband's shirt: "slow down jarhead" wife's shirt: "keep up shipmate", husband's shirt: "i married a marine" wife's shirt: "i married a seaman", husband's shirt: "1st Marine Corps Marathon" wife's shirt "5th Marine Corps Marathon"), some were inspirational ("Today is My Birthday, I am 50, 1st Marathon, Life is Good"), some were motivational ("Pain is Weakness Leaving the Body"), and some were sad (a lot of people were running in honor of a fallen soldier or loved one that had died).
By mile 12 my knee really hurt. At some point Caroline started to walk, and I thought, what the hell, I will too - we might have been 15/16 miles in by then. And that was when I knew it was really bad. I couldn't walk, it was a serious hobble, running was less painful - so I jogged next to Caroline who was speed-walking. This was pretty much how we finished out the race (Caroline did run more after that, but we slowed significantly because of my knee.) We saw Caroline's nephew (a chiropractor) and his wife, and he adjusted her back on the pavement and tried to help with my knee (it was the IT Band - whatever that is, was hurt). Almost immediately after that we saw my mom and Andy, which was nice, and we kept going.
"The Bridge," the 14th Street Bridge (which is literally about 2 miles long), must be "beat" by 1:15pm, or about 5 hours into the race. It starts at mile 20. Right before the bridge, we saw my mom and Andy again. After we passed them, Andy caught up with us (probably not too hard), and started to run with me. I thought he was just going to go a little way and then go back to my mom. No. He ran the entire rest of the race with me (up to the .2, when they make you get off if you are not an official runner). And that is the real story. He is 13 years old, was wearing skateboarding shoes, and ran 6 miles to support me. It took me months to get up to 6 miles. Halfway across the bridge he said, "I'm really proud of you mom," which was probably better than crossing the finish line. He never complained, never asked to stop, and was so sweet when he could tell I was really hurting.
My trainer/friend joined us on the other side of the bridge, and helped me through the those last four miles. After telling him how happy I was to see him I had to give him the big "P.S. - uh, you aren't getting text messages because I attached the direction tag instead of the chip tag to my shoe." He laughed, and said, "well, when I didn't get any texts I knew either the whole system was down or that you attached the tag incorrectly." Needless to say he was not surprised it was the later. By mile 23 I wanted to stop. Not to quit, per say, but just to stop, for the pain to stop. I don't know how I was putting one foot in front of the other. When I would want to stop he would take my hand long enough to get me going again. He pointed out that with every single step I was going farther than I had ever run before. It hurt.
We finished. Six Hours, Five Minutes, 27 Seconds. Which we only know because Caroline did attach her chip, and not the directions. We ran up the final hill and the last short straight segment and it was finally over. A very nice marine grabbed me (my knee was exploding at this point), put a medal around my neck, and walked (almost carrying) me to get ice. I took the ice, never had a chance to thank him, and went to get the finisher photo taken with Caroline. I found Ken (trainer/friend) and Andy, said bye to Ken (had his daughter's birthday party to attend, which meant he had to run 4.5 miles back to his car first), and then found my mom (who had been separated from Andy with his impromptu run).
So, this is it, the final blog entry. I will turn 30 years old on Tuesday, apparently running a marathon does not stop time. In the past five months I have run a marathon, raised over $2,300 to fight leukemia, somehow come to terms with the fact that 30 is going to happen.......
I think the only proper way to end this entry is with some thank-you's - to all the people without whom none of this would have been possible.
My Kids - You are the inspiration for everything good I have ever accomplished. Without any one of you I would be a ship lost at sea. I love you each more than you will ever know.
Andy - In 20 years, the only thing I will remember about this race is you running with me. You are my heart. I will not run this race again until we can run the whole thing together.
Mom - Thanks for putting up with me for 30 years. Which is like a marathon, but longer, harder, and with no medals or marines at the end.
Caroline - I love running with you. I never would have made it so far without your support. You are super-mentor, you rock. Thank you the most for what you said at the end of the race today, that was the best compliment I have ever received.
Everyone Else - Thank you for your support, your donations, all of your kind words, and for being a part of this journey with me.
The End.
At 5:15 Caroline picked me up from my house, along with her very sweet and supportive husband and sister, and we drove to the West Falls Church Metro where we boarded a metro train jam-packed with runners. When we finally made it to the Runner's Village we waited in the porta-potty line, twice, to try to make sure that we had fully emptied our bladders.
At about 7:45 or so we made our way to our corral at the start line. You line up based on your expected finish time. Well, most of us do. This is the Marine Corps Marathon and many disabled veterans race too, in wheelchairs and with hand-cycles. What they do is so much harder than what we do. They start first. Then the competitive runners are behind them. Then the rest of us start. From the time the start gun (cannon) went off, it was another 16 minutes before we actually crossed the start line.
As we waited in the start corral, I noticed eyeryone else's D-tag (chip attached to your shoe to track your time) had their bib number printed on it, and mine didn't. I figured I needed to spin the little tag thingy around, so I did. No bib number. Caroline and I realized at the same time what I had done. I attached the direction half and not the half with the chip in it. I immediately knew the consequences of this mistake. There would never be an official record of me having run the race. If I finished I would have the pictures (MarathonFoto takes pictures of you along the way), and I would have the medal, but no record of my splits and of my finish time. I wanted to vomit, right there, before I had taken one step of the 26.2 miles. How in the hell was I going to qualify for Boston now? Seriously though, it was in that moment that I realized that it didn't matter. I couldn't care less. This was never about anyone else. This was something I was doing for me. If no one else ever knows I did it, or cares that I did it, what difference could that possibly make to me? Logistically, however, it made it impossible for my mother and trainer/friend to have any idea of where I was going to be so that they could follow me along the route.
Everyone that I know that has run this race before told me about all the adrenaline that was going to have on race day, I don't know what that feels like, but I was excited - like I was going on an f-ing vacation or something (it did not take me long to understand that this was not going to feel like a vacation.) The gun (cannon) goes off, and here we go, well, 16 minutes later anyway. Felt good. Start off by the Pentagon, then on some parkway (maybe Spout Run Parkway), and through the Palisades and down M-street in Georgetown. That was the first 9 or 10 miles I think. I had finally warmed up and took Andy's Under Armor shirt off. The weather was beyond perfect. If I had called God up and requested a specific set of weather conditions, it could not have been better. It was cold in the very early morning, but by the time the sun was all the way up, it was truly beautiful.
I had heard that this race was a very entertaining event, and that proved to be delightfully accurate. There are spectators with signs, some with 80's outfits and Cindy Lauper on a boombox, groups of singers and bands, and other random things to keep your mind off of the pain. I think what I found to be the best entertainment was reading the shirts of other runners. Some were funny (a husband and wife - husband's shirt: "slow down jarhead" wife's shirt: "keep up shipmate", husband's shirt: "i married a marine" wife's shirt: "i married a seaman", husband's shirt: "1st Marine Corps Marathon" wife's shirt "5th Marine Corps Marathon"), some were inspirational ("Today is My Birthday, I am 50, 1st Marathon, Life is Good"), some were motivational ("Pain is Weakness Leaving the Body"), and some were sad (a lot of people were running in honor of a fallen soldier or loved one that had died).
By mile 12 my knee really hurt. At some point Caroline started to walk, and I thought, what the hell, I will too - we might have been 15/16 miles in by then. And that was when I knew it was really bad. I couldn't walk, it was a serious hobble, running was less painful - so I jogged next to Caroline who was speed-walking. This was pretty much how we finished out the race (Caroline did run more after that, but we slowed significantly because of my knee.) We saw Caroline's nephew (a chiropractor) and his wife, and he adjusted her back on the pavement and tried to help with my knee (it was the IT Band - whatever that is, was hurt). Almost immediately after that we saw my mom and Andy, which was nice, and we kept going.
"The Bridge," the 14th Street Bridge (which is literally about 2 miles long), must be "beat" by 1:15pm, or about 5 hours into the race. It starts at mile 20. Right before the bridge, we saw my mom and Andy again. After we passed them, Andy caught up with us (probably not too hard), and started to run with me. I thought he was just going to go a little way and then go back to my mom. No. He ran the entire rest of the race with me (up to the .2, when they make you get off if you are not an official runner). And that is the real story. He is 13 years old, was wearing skateboarding shoes, and ran 6 miles to support me. It took me months to get up to 6 miles. Halfway across the bridge he said, "I'm really proud of you mom," which was probably better than crossing the finish line. He never complained, never asked to stop, and was so sweet when he could tell I was really hurting.
My trainer/friend joined us on the other side of the bridge, and helped me through the those last four miles. After telling him how happy I was to see him I had to give him the big "P.S. - uh, you aren't getting text messages because I attached the direction tag instead of the chip tag to my shoe." He laughed, and said, "well, when I didn't get any texts I knew either the whole system was down or that you attached the tag incorrectly." Needless to say he was not surprised it was the later. By mile 23 I wanted to stop. Not to quit, per say, but just to stop, for the pain to stop. I don't know how I was putting one foot in front of the other. When I would want to stop he would take my hand long enough to get me going again. He pointed out that with every single step I was going farther than I had ever run before. It hurt.
We finished. Six Hours, Five Minutes, 27 Seconds. Which we only know because Caroline did attach her chip, and not the directions. We ran up the final hill and the last short straight segment and it was finally over. A very nice marine grabbed me (my knee was exploding at this point), put a medal around my neck, and walked (almost carrying) me to get ice. I took the ice, never had a chance to thank him, and went to get the finisher photo taken with Caroline. I found Ken (trainer/friend) and Andy, said bye to Ken (had his daughter's birthday party to attend, which meant he had to run 4.5 miles back to his car first), and then found my mom (who had been separated from Andy with his impromptu run).
So, this is it, the final blog entry. I will turn 30 years old on Tuesday, apparently running a marathon does not stop time. In the past five months I have run a marathon, raised over $2,300 to fight leukemia, somehow come to terms with the fact that 30 is going to happen.......
I think the only proper way to end this entry is with some thank-you's - to all the people without whom none of this would have been possible.
My Kids - You are the inspiration for everything good I have ever accomplished. Without any one of you I would be a ship lost at sea. I love you each more than you will ever know.
Andy - In 20 years, the only thing I will remember about this race is you running with me. You are my heart. I will not run this race again until we can run the whole thing together.
Mom - Thanks for putting up with me for 30 years. Which is like a marathon, but longer, harder, and with no medals or marines at the end.
Caroline - I love running with you. I never would have made it so far without your support. You are super-mentor, you rock. Thank you the most for what you said at the end of the race today, that was the best compliment I have ever received.
Everyone Else - Thank you for your support, your donations, all of your kind words, and for being a part of this journey with me.
The End.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Final Countdown
This will be my final blog entry until after the race tomorrow. 13 hours until the gun goes off. In the past 3 days I have shifted from a state of anxiety to an acute awareness of the pain that my body will endure tomorrow, to an acceptance of that pain and unwavering will to succeed.
I spent the week analyzing every thing I ate, everything I drank, every step of my last short runs, my overall preparation for the race, and my trainer/friend. I did everything right, if I fail it will not be because of how I prepared...in fact, it will be because I died because that is the only way in hell I will fail. I have not eaten one bite of red meat since the Five Guys incident before the miserable 18 mile run, and have had almost no fat this week. I drank a lot of lemon-lime Gatorade and less than one coke a day. My trainer and I ran 4 miles on Tuesday, 5 miles on Thursday, and I did my last 4 mile run before the race on my own this morning.
Last night my trainer/friend picked me up from school (work), and took me to the Washington Convention Center downtown to pick up my race bibs and D Tag for my shoe. Number 31898. Despite all of the excitement surrounding the whole convention center experience, with thousands of runners all there to pick up their packets, I was only focused on one person, my trainer. He held my hand and took me out for dinner and wine after. He dropped me off at my car (still at school), and kissed me good night. He confuses me. I went to bed early, assuming I would not be able to sleep much tonight.
Everything is laid out and prepared for me to get dressed in the morning. Black running skirt, long-sleeve black Under Armor shirt, TNT singlet, and matching purple sports bra. I bought new tighter running socks today and a little waist belt with expandable pouch (for tampons, because of course my period started this morning exactly 24 hours before the race, tums, and antibacterial hand wipes.) I have body glide, my bibs, safety pins, and a throw-away-at-mile-3- fleece in another pile. It might rain, so I gave my mom a pair of socks in case I need to change them along the way. I gave my trainer/friend(?) a pair of sweats, a long sleeve tee shirt, and another pair of socks for me to change into after the race.
As I am about to go to sleep, I reflect back over the last 5 months. I couldn't run a mile when this all began. Every run from 3 miles to 20 was a major accomplishment, after every new milestone I thought, "How will I ever run farther than that?" I have a completely new respect for my body, what it is capable of, how it changes in direct correlation to how it is treated and used. There is something empowering about not having given up, despite all the times that I wanted to quit, to stop. I loved that I haven't had to do it all alone, which is the complete opposite of every other aspect of my life. This process has taught me so much about myself, about a strength I had forgotten. And, thanks to my trainer/friend, I have also developed a patience that is well beyond my natural limits.
11 Hours, 42 Minutes, 34 Seconds.
I spent the week analyzing every thing I ate, everything I drank, every step of my last short runs, my overall preparation for the race, and my trainer/friend. I did everything right, if I fail it will not be because of how I prepared...in fact, it will be because I died because that is the only way in hell I will fail. I have not eaten one bite of red meat since the Five Guys incident before the miserable 18 mile run, and have had almost no fat this week. I drank a lot of lemon-lime Gatorade and less than one coke a day. My trainer and I ran 4 miles on Tuesday, 5 miles on Thursday, and I did my last 4 mile run before the race on my own this morning.
Last night my trainer/friend picked me up from school (work), and took me to the Washington Convention Center downtown to pick up my race bibs and D Tag for my shoe. Number 31898. Despite all of the excitement surrounding the whole convention center experience, with thousands of runners all there to pick up their packets, I was only focused on one person, my trainer. He held my hand and took me out for dinner and wine after. He dropped me off at my car (still at school), and kissed me good night. He confuses me. I went to bed early, assuming I would not be able to sleep much tonight.
Everything is laid out and prepared for me to get dressed in the morning. Black running skirt, long-sleeve black Under Armor shirt, TNT singlet, and matching purple sports bra. I bought new tighter running socks today and a little waist belt with expandable pouch (for tampons, because of course my period started this morning exactly 24 hours before the race, tums, and antibacterial hand wipes.) I have body glide, my bibs, safety pins, and a throw-away-at-mile-3- fleece in another pile. It might rain, so I gave my mom a pair of socks in case I need to change them along the way. I gave my trainer/friend(?) a pair of sweats, a long sleeve tee shirt, and another pair of socks for me to change into after the race.
As I am about to go to sleep, I reflect back over the last 5 months. I couldn't run a mile when this all began. Every run from 3 miles to 20 was a major accomplishment, after every new milestone I thought, "How will I ever run farther than that?" I have a completely new respect for my body, what it is capable of, how it changes in direct correlation to how it is treated and used. There is something empowering about not having given up, despite all the times that I wanted to quit, to stop. I loved that I haven't had to do it all alone, which is the complete opposite of every other aspect of my life. This process has taught me so much about myself, about a strength I had forgotten. And, thanks to my trainer/friend, I have also developed a patience that is well beyond my natural limits.
11 Hours, 42 Minutes, 34 Seconds.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Countdown
I can sum up the past 20 days by stating that my training has been more consistent than my blogging. Good thing.
Before I even recap the last, wow, almost month now - I must begin by addressing the fact that the race is four days away. 4 days, 11 hours, 8 minutes and five seconds to be exact, but who's counting? I am somewhere between anxious and confident, probably more anxious. People keep asking me if I am ready, and I tell them the truth, I have no idea. They think I am being coy or modest (clearly not people that know me), but the reality is that I really have no idea.
20 Miles
I did finally conquer the 20 mile run. Caroline and I went out the week after the miserable 18 miles. We started at 5:30 in the morning at mile marker 27.5 (by the Carolina Bros.) and were going out 10 west and back. I did everything right the week leading up to the run, and was almost looking forward to it, until the alarm went off at 5:10 in the morning. It was cold, not raining but enough moisture in the air to make the cold seem colder, yet what was most startling was how dark it was. By the time we were a half mile in there was absolutely no light coming from anywhere, even the moon and stars were covered by the clouds. The only motions, the only sounds, came from us. Caroline's husband set up a water stop for us at mile 7 (so also mile 13), which was so nice - he brought us Gatorade, pretzels, sport beans - definitely a welcome stop. We were making really good time, and I knew from the point that we hit mile 8 that I was good for the 20. Miles 8 through 10 was one gradual yet grueling hill past Leesburg toward Purcellville, Caroline warned me. At first I thought, no big deal, but seriously after like a mile of never ending hill it gets a little obnoxious. Funny enough, when we turned around and ran back down that hill it felt flat. At about mile 16 we started working in walking intervals, but I felt that I didn't need to, which is good. We finished in 4 hours and 7 minutes (I think).
Iwo Jima
The last Team in Training group run was at the Iwo Jima memorial in Arlington, which is basically where the marathon starts and stops. We ran 8 miles, the last four of which are the same as the last four of the marathon. Caroline was not there, so I ran it alone, and probably started too quickly. Still though, it was a comfortable run. The course ran next to Arlington National Cemetery and then along the Potomac River with the DC landscape across the water. I hope that I am able to relax and enjoy the run on race day like I was able to do during this training run. Oh, and my big lesson on this day, I would rather pee in front of everyone or on myself or on myself in front of everyone, before I ever use a porta-potty in Gravelly Point Park again. I think I am going to puke in my mouth from thinking about it. Dry heave pause. Seriously.
Final Run
Last Sunday was my final training run. It was supposed to be 6 miles, on our own, there was no group run. I borrowed my son's IPod (which is about 23 versions newer than mine, oh, and he knows how to put songs on it unlike me), and started out on my last Sunday run before the race. When I got to the turn around point I decided I would go out for an extra half mile, for 7 total. And when I got to that mile marker I decided to go out for one more half, for 8 total. It felt good. It was cold, but my legs warmed up about 1.5 miles into the run. The bonus was that I was incapable of changing songs on his IPod, and thus was forced to listen to an entire "Hollywood Undead" album, which was not nearly as bad as I expected it to be when I spent 5 minutes trying to run and simultaneously figure out how to skip songs.
And then I was done. This week will consist of a couple of very short runs, no cross training, and a lot of carbs (yeah) and Gatorade. 4 days 10 hours 7 minutes and 15 seconds.
Before I even recap the last, wow, almost month now - I must begin by addressing the fact that the race is four days away. 4 days, 11 hours, 8 minutes and five seconds to be exact, but who's counting? I am somewhere between anxious and confident, probably more anxious. People keep asking me if I am ready, and I tell them the truth, I have no idea. They think I am being coy or modest (clearly not people that know me), but the reality is that I really have no idea.
20 Miles
I did finally conquer the 20 mile run. Caroline and I went out the week after the miserable 18 miles. We started at 5:30 in the morning at mile marker 27.5 (by the Carolina Bros.) and were going out 10 west and back. I did everything right the week leading up to the run, and was almost looking forward to it, until the alarm went off at 5:10 in the morning. It was cold, not raining but enough moisture in the air to make the cold seem colder, yet what was most startling was how dark it was. By the time we were a half mile in there was absolutely no light coming from anywhere, even the moon and stars were covered by the clouds. The only motions, the only sounds, came from us. Caroline's husband set up a water stop for us at mile 7 (so also mile 13), which was so nice - he brought us Gatorade, pretzels, sport beans - definitely a welcome stop. We were making really good time, and I knew from the point that we hit mile 8 that I was good for the 20. Miles 8 through 10 was one gradual yet grueling hill past Leesburg toward Purcellville, Caroline warned me. At first I thought, no big deal, but seriously after like a mile of never ending hill it gets a little obnoxious. Funny enough, when we turned around and ran back down that hill it felt flat. At about mile 16 we started working in walking intervals, but I felt that I didn't need to, which is good. We finished in 4 hours and 7 minutes (I think).
Iwo Jima
The last Team in Training group run was at the Iwo Jima memorial in Arlington, which is basically where the marathon starts and stops. We ran 8 miles, the last four of which are the same as the last four of the marathon. Caroline was not there, so I ran it alone, and probably started too quickly. Still though, it was a comfortable run. The course ran next to Arlington National Cemetery and then along the Potomac River with the DC landscape across the water. I hope that I am able to relax and enjoy the run on race day like I was able to do during this training run. Oh, and my big lesson on this day, I would rather pee in front of everyone or on myself or on myself in front of everyone, before I ever use a porta-potty in Gravelly Point Park again. I think I am going to puke in my mouth from thinking about it. Dry heave pause. Seriously.
Final Run
Last Sunday was my final training run. It was supposed to be 6 miles, on our own, there was no group run. I borrowed my son's IPod (which is about 23 versions newer than mine, oh, and he knows how to put songs on it unlike me), and started out on my last Sunday run before the race. When I got to the turn around point I decided I would go out for an extra half mile, for 7 total. And when I got to that mile marker I decided to go out for one more half, for 8 total. It felt good. It was cold, but my legs warmed up about 1.5 miles into the run. The bonus was that I was incapable of changing songs on his IPod, and thus was forced to listen to an entire "Hollywood Undead" album, which was not nearly as bad as I expected it to be when I spent 5 minutes trying to run and simultaneously figure out how to skip songs.
And then I was done. This week will consist of a couple of very short runs, no cross training, and a lot of carbs (yeah) and Gatorade. 4 days 10 hours 7 minutes and 15 seconds.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Not a Stick
So, on Monday I knew I needed to run again after my pathetic attempt on Saturday's long run. I went out on the W&OD after work, around 4:45pm, for a 5-mile run through my preferred short course.
Running this route is as familiar to me now as driving through the streets of the neighborhood I grew up in, I think I could do either with my eyes closed. I get on at mile marker 27.5 and run west. The first mile is flat and open to the sun for about 3/4 of a mile, then up a hill. At the start of the second mile I cross over the bridge, then down the hill, and into a flat segment shaded by the tree canopy. It is quiet until the end of the second mile when the trail crosses over a busy road crowded with drivers who beep their horn at cars that stop to allow runners and cyclists to cross. The third mile is my favorite. It starts just past the busy road with the hurried drivers, and it becomes quiet and peaceful. There are no houses or roads through this stretch, and the only sounds are those of birds and bicycles. Through the woods, mostly open to the sun with patches of shade, past the cow pasture and the rock quarry, over the bridge, between the black fences, and over a second bridge if running six miles instead of five. Not only have I memorized the precise location of every mile marker post and slightest shift in elevation, I have also memorized every detail of the horse trails that run parallel to the paved trail.
On Monday, I decided to run the horse trails. It had been raining and cloudy all day long as I looked out of my classroom window, but by the time I went out to run it was sunny and cool, with the first hints of fall in the air. It was a really nice run. It didn't feel like work at all, I was keeping a good pace, breathing easy, and actually enjoying the sounds of my shoes as they crunched into the micro-gravel with each step. The horse trails are more hilly, more shaded, and a more intimate run as you are usually completely alone with a tree and brush barrier separating you from the parallel paved trail. I turned around 2.5 miles out and headed back.
About 1.5 miles into the return run I saw a stick in the middle of the trail. Uh, and then it moved. It was not a stick. Clearly it was a snake. Many years ago I liked to think of myself as someone that would react quickly and decisively in high-stress situations, but I have proven on at least two prior occasions that my actual reaction is to freeze. I can't speak. I can't move. I can't do anything. Everything slows down, except my mind which is racing, yet completely unresponsive. The stupid snake is slithering around in the middle of the trail. I am staring at it, frozen. I don't move forward, don't move backward. I am completely paralyzed , or so I thought. Apparently all bodily functions are not frozen, the bladder for instance. Yeah, as the snake slithered around on the trial, I had peed in my pants. Not a drop or two. I literally pissed my pants.
So now I am standing in the middle of the trail, with wet shorts and socks, unable to get to the paved trail without crossing through the snake-infested brush, and afraid to go forward less it be a trap set up by the little slithering evil beast waiting for me to run by so it can attack my ankles. At long last I realized that I was not going to get home unless I finished the run, so I ran out the last mile, still on the horse trail, praying the whole way that no one would be running behind me. Then I drove home in a sports bra because I was sitting on my shirt.
Running this route is as familiar to me now as driving through the streets of the neighborhood I grew up in, I think I could do either with my eyes closed. I get on at mile marker 27.5 and run west. The first mile is flat and open to the sun for about 3/4 of a mile, then up a hill. At the start of the second mile I cross over the bridge, then down the hill, and into a flat segment shaded by the tree canopy. It is quiet until the end of the second mile when the trail crosses over a busy road crowded with drivers who beep their horn at cars that stop to allow runners and cyclists to cross. The third mile is my favorite. It starts just past the busy road with the hurried drivers, and it becomes quiet and peaceful. There are no houses or roads through this stretch, and the only sounds are those of birds and bicycles. Through the woods, mostly open to the sun with patches of shade, past the cow pasture and the rock quarry, over the bridge, between the black fences, and over a second bridge if running six miles instead of five. Not only have I memorized the precise location of every mile marker post and slightest shift in elevation, I have also memorized every detail of the horse trails that run parallel to the paved trail.
On Monday, I decided to run the horse trails. It had been raining and cloudy all day long as I looked out of my classroom window, but by the time I went out to run it was sunny and cool, with the first hints of fall in the air. It was a really nice run. It didn't feel like work at all, I was keeping a good pace, breathing easy, and actually enjoying the sounds of my shoes as they crunched into the micro-gravel with each step. The horse trails are more hilly, more shaded, and a more intimate run as you are usually completely alone with a tree and brush barrier separating you from the parallel paved trail. I turned around 2.5 miles out and headed back.
About 1.5 miles into the return run I saw a stick in the middle of the trail. Uh, and then it moved. It was not a stick. Clearly it was a snake. Many years ago I liked to think of myself as someone that would react quickly and decisively in high-stress situations, but I have proven on at least two prior occasions that my actual reaction is to freeze. I can't speak. I can't move. I can't do anything. Everything slows down, except my mind which is racing, yet completely unresponsive. The stupid snake is slithering around in the middle of the trail. I am staring at it, frozen. I don't move forward, don't move backward. I am completely paralyzed , or so I thought. Apparently all bodily functions are not frozen, the bladder for instance. Yeah, as the snake slithered around on the trial, I had peed in my pants. Not a drop or two. I literally pissed my pants.
So now I am standing in the middle of the trail, with wet shorts and socks, unable to get to the paved trail without crossing through the snake-infested brush, and afraid to go forward less it be a trap set up by the little slithering evil beast waiting for me to run by so it can attack my ankles. At long last I realized that I was not going to get home unless I finished the run, so I ran out the last mile, still on the horse trail, praying the whole way that no one would be running behind me. Then I drove home in a sports bra because I was sitting on my shirt.
Crunch Time
Monday - nothing
Tuesday - Team in Training Fundraiser at the Dock restaurant, a little wine, a lot of fun, a long night, a successful fundraiser, but no running
Wednesday - nothing
Thursday - Ran 6 miles with my trainer/friend (moving more into the friend than trainer realm at this point, but both terms are still being used loosely), then did my Core Strength Training class at the gym
Friday - nothing, and ate a greasy bacon cheeseburger from Five Guys for dinner (clearly did not learn my lesson the first time I made this mistake...remember - faster, not smarter...)
Saturday -
This was "The Day" as far as training for the marathon goes. Our Team in Training group run was scheduled for 20 miles, and is intended to serve as a mock marathon for the real deal which is less than a month away. This was the longest run scheduled before the race, to be followed by a month of tapering down and allowing the muscles to repair before the big event. I am somewhat self-aware at this point, and did realize it was way too far to run on my own, so I decided to take part in the whole National Capital Area Team in Training group run. Making this decision easier was the fact that I knew my mentor was going to be there, which is always a huge help to me, and the run was scheduled for Reston (so not preceded or proceeded by another type of marathon around the beltway.)
I arrived at the training site by the W&OD in Reston (by mile marker 17) and there were at least 100 other TNT runners from Virginia, Maryland, and D.C. already there. The plan was to run west for 5 miles (to mile marker 22), turn around, run 5 miles back to the starting point, pass the starting point, run another 5 miles east (to mile marker 12), turn around, then back to the starting point, for a total of 20 miles.
The first 5 miles felt great. I was running with Caroline (my mentor) and we were aiming for a 11.5 minute mile pace, but I have picked up speed over the past month or so (I don't know how) and kept falling into what I now believe is my natural pace of 10.5 minute miles. We actually had to keep making a conscious effort to slow down. By the time we reached mile 8 I had to pee. I should mention now that I was also on my period and had an extremely upset stomach from the aforementioned bacon cheeseburger. I saw a 7-11 just a bit off of the trail, told Caroline to keep going, and ran over to the 7-11 to use their restroom facilities. The person working there refused to let me use it. Great. Now I needed to pee, change my tampon, had an upset stomach, and Caroline was way ahead of me at this point. Then someone told me that there was a community center up ahead about a mile. I ran to that. I couldn't find the bathroom. I ran back to the trail and kept going. Internally, everything between my rib cage and thighs was in a serious state of turmoil at this point. Finally I made it back to the starting point (so 10 miles into the run) where Caroline was waiting for me, and she informed me that I hadn't even lost much time despite all of my legs off of the trail in search of a toilet. We kept going.
Apparently I missed the next opportunity for a restroom at a McDonald's just past the starting point. Awesome. We kept going. Finally, around mile 12, there was a water stop and a port-a-potty. Even better. I tried to take care of all the issues affecting my stomach, but was not all that successful. I won't go into the details. We kept going, for about another mile, then we stopped to walk. And that was all she wrote. Once we started walking my legs cramped in a way that I did not know was possible. The run was over. We went out to mile marker 13 (so stopping a mile short) and turned around. We walked all the way back, except for the last quarter of a mile, which we hobble/jogged, simply to save face. In total, I made it 18 miles, only the first 13 of which were running. So, another miserable failure.
I cried and sulked around for the rest of the weekend. I felt guilty for eating any morsel of food that entered my mouth, even salad. This run should have resulted in the confidence needed to make it through the race. Instead I am now questioning whether or not I will beat the bus across the bridge, if I can make it past mile 16 or 20 or 25, if I will even survive the endeavor, and honestly why I ever thought I could do this in the first place.
In the words of Eleanor Roosevelt, "You must do the thing you think you cannot do." I am going to re-attempt the 20 miles this coming weekend.
Tuesday - Team in Training Fundraiser at the Dock restaurant, a little wine, a lot of fun, a long night, a successful fundraiser, but no running
Wednesday - nothing
Thursday - Ran 6 miles with my trainer/friend (moving more into the friend than trainer realm at this point, but both terms are still being used loosely), then did my Core Strength Training class at the gym
Friday - nothing, and ate a greasy bacon cheeseburger from Five Guys for dinner (clearly did not learn my lesson the first time I made this mistake...remember - faster, not smarter...)
Saturday -
This was "The Day" as far as training for the marathon goes. Our Team in Training group run was scheduled for 20 miles, and is intended to serve as a mock marathon for the real deal which is less than a month away. This was the longest run scheduled before the race, to be followed by a month of tapering down and allowing the muscles to repair before the big event. I am somewhat self-aware at this point, and did realize it was way too far to run on my own, so I decided to take part in the whole National Capital Area Team in Training group run. Making this decision easier was the fact that I knew my mentor was going to be there, which is always a huge help to me, and the run was scheduled for Reston (so not preceded or proceeded by another type of marathon around the beltway.)
I arrived at the training site by the W&OD in Reston (by mile marker 17) and there were at least 100 other TNT runners from Virginia, Maryland, and D.C. already there. The plan was to run west for 5 miles (to mile marker 22), turn around, run 5 miles back to the starting point, pass the starting point, run another 5 miles east (to mile marker 12), turn around, then back to the starting point, for a total of 20 miles.
The first 5 miles felt great. I was running with Caroline (my mentor) and we were aiming for a 11.5 minute mile pace, but I have picked up speed over the past month or so (I don't know how) and kept falling into what I now believe is my natural pace of 10.5 minute miles. We actually had to keep making a conscious effort to slow down. By the time we reached mile 8 I had to pee. I should mention now that I was also on my period and had an extremely upset stomach from the aforementioned bacon cheeseburger. I saw a 7-11 just a bit off of the trail, told Caroline to keep going, and ran over to the 7-11 to use their restroom facilities. The person working there refused to let me use it. Great. Now I needed to pee, change my tampon, had an upset stomach, and Caroline was way ahead of me at this point. Then someone told me that there was a community center up ahead about a mile. I ran to that. I couldn't find the bathroom. I ran back to the trail and kept going. Internally, everything between my rib cage and thighs was in a serious state of turmoil at this point. Finally I made it back to the starting point (so 10 miles into the run) where Caroline was waiting for me, and she informed me that I hadn't even lost much time despite all of my legs off of the trail in search of a toilet. We kept going.
Apparently I missed the next opportunity for a restroom at a McDonald's just past the starting point. Awesome. We kept going. Finally, around mile 12, there was a water stop and a port-a-potty. Even better. I tried to take care of all the issues affecting my stomach, but was not all that successful. I won't go into the details. We kept going, for about another mile, then we stopped to walk. And that was all she wrote. Once we started walking my legs cramped in a way that I did not know was possible. The run was over. We went out to mile marker 13 (so stopping a mile short) and turned around. We walked all the way back, except for the last quarter of a mile, which we hobble/jogged, simply to save face. In total, I made it 18 miles, only the first 13 of which were running. So, another miserable failure.
I cried and sulked around for the rest of the weekend. I felt guilty for eating any morsel of food that entered my mouth, even salad. This run should have resulted in the confidence needed to make it through the race. Instead I am now questioning whether or not I will beat the bus across the bridge, if I can make it past mile 16 or 20 or 25, if I will even survive the endeavor, and honestly why I ever thought I could do this in the first place.
In the words of Eleanor Roosevelt, "You must do the thing you think you cannot do." I am going to re-attempt the 20 miles this coming weekend.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Faster, but Not Smarter
The past week has been terrible as far as training has gone...
Monday - Back to School Night at my school, no training
Tuesday - Ran with the Cross Country Team at my school, 7 miles in 1 hour and 4 minutes, amazing!
Wednesday - Meeting at the Dock for Team in Training Fundraiser, no training, but a really great dinner
Thursday - Ran 1 lap around the lake, Core Strength Training Class at the gym
Friday- - No excuse, no drinking, no late night, but also no training
Saturday (today) - This week's distance run was scheduled for 12 miles. It was supposed to be an easy week in between hard weeks (18 last week - in theory, 12 this week, 20 next week). I thought about making up the 18 this week, but then figured that next week's 20 would be miserable. Ariana had soccer practice and team pictures today, so running with Team in Training would have made it impossible to take her. I decided to run it on my own instead.
I got on the trail in my regular location, at mile marker 27.5 by the Carolina Bros. BBQ in Ashburn. I headed west to the outskirts of Leesburg for 6 miles then back for the second 6. The weather was beautiful, sunny, cool but not at all cold, and I ran on the horse trail which runs parallel to the running/cycling trail almost the entire time (which means I actually ran more than 12 miles, and ran a more hilly terrain). I finished in 2 hours and 7 minutes.
When I got back to my car I realized that I had locked my keys inside, again. This is the second time I have done this, at the trail alone. My analysis of today's run is that apparently I have gotten significantly faster, but unfortunately not any smarter.
Monday - Back to School Night at my school, no training
Tuesday - Ran with the Cross Country Team at my school, 7 miles in 1 hour and 4 minutes, amazing!
Wednesday - Meeting at the Dock for Team in Training Fundraiser, no training, but a really great dinner
Thursday - Ran 1 lap around the lake, Core Strength Training Class at the gym
Friday- - No excuse, no drinking, no late night, but also no training
Saturday (today) - This week's distance run was scheduled for 12 miles. It was supposed to be an easy week in between hard weeks (18 last week - in theory, 12 this week, 20 next week). I thought about making up the 18 this week, but then figured that next week's 20 would be miserable. Ariana had soccer practice and team pictures today, so running with Team in Training would have made it impossible to take her. I decided to run it on my own instead.
I got on the trail in my regular location, at mile marker 27.5 by the Carolina Bros. BBQ in Ashburn. I headed west to the outskirts of Leesburg for 6 miles then back for the second 6. The weather was beautiful, sunny, cool but not at all cold, and I ran on the horse trail which runs parallel to the running/cycling trail almost the entire time (which means I actually ran more than 12 miles, and ran a more hilly terrain). I finished in 2 hours and 7 minutes.
When I got back to my car I realized that I had locked my keys inside, again. This is the second time I have done this, at the trail alone. My analysis of today's run is that apparently I have gotten significantly faster, but unfortunately not any smarter.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Failure of Priority
Review of the past two weeks (post the 16-mile run):
Monday (Aug.31) - 4 miles
Tuesday (Sept.1) - off
Wednesday (Sept.2) - 6 miles
Thursday (Sept.3) - 1 lap around the lake & core-strength training class at gym
Friday (Sept.4) - 5 miles
Saturday (Sept. 5) - off
Sunday (Sept.6) - 10 miles
Monday (Sept.7) - Labor Day, Jason's (son) 7th Birthday, ate a lot, exercised none
Tuesday (Sept.8) - 1st Day of School, 4 miles
Wednesday (Sept.9) - Got flu, puked in front of students at school, exercised none
Thursday (Sept.10) - Still sick, exercised none
Friday (Sept.11) - Still sick, exercised none
Saturday (Sept.12) - 5 miles
Which brings us to today, Sunday September 13th. This weekend I was scheduled to run 18 miles. Once again, I could not do it with Team in Training because Ariana (3-year old daughter) had her very first soccer practice and it is still physically impossible to be in two places at once.
On the first day of school, while at my daily ritual Starbucks stop, I ran into my "former trainer/friend." I told him how I was going to have to run the 18 miles on my own, and he tentatively agreed to do all or part of the run with me. By the end of the week we determined that we were going to do the run on Sunday morning, I would do the first 8 miles on my own and that he would pick up the last 10 with me. Now, I have done a lot of hard work on my own since he was most recently shunned, and this run should have been strategically used by me to show off my quicker pace and increased endurance. Basically, for the first time ever, I had the chance to beat him at something (other than Jeopardy). A golden opportunity squandered.
Last night, Saturday, I attended a DC United soccer game. Well, not just the game. I went to the pre-game tailgate, where I behaved myself and drank orange gatorade while everyone else was drinking beer. Then we went inside the stadium. It all went downhill from there. I switched from gatorade to liquor and then the game was over (DC United lost). If I had the sense to go home and go to bed at that moment, all would have been well. But, I didn't. I drank more. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid.
I woke up at 5:50 this morning to start the first 8 miles. Um, I was still drunk. I went back to sleep. I got back up at 7:30 am, now suffering from an acute hangover. I got ready and drove out to the trail to meet my trainer. At this point I planned to just run the 10 miles with him and make up the 18 later. We started, slowly, painfully. Each step jarred the remaining liquid contents in my stomach. It was bad. I quit 1.5 miles into the run. I couldn't even run back. We had to walk the mile and half back. Since the day was already a huge loss, I decided I might as well enjoy the nice weather...so nachos and frozen margaritas.
Clearly this run was a failure of priority. As my now restored friend/trainer said, "a complete disregard for the fact that I am training for a marathon." He was being nice. Not only did I miss the window of opportunity to physically show him up, I wasted his time.
Worst of all, though, is that this weekend was the first time since I began this whole process that I cannot even claim to have quit, I didn't even try.
Monday (Aug.31) - 4 miles
Tuesday (Sept.1) - off
Wednesday (Sept.2) - 6 miles
Thursday (Sept.3) - 1 lap around the lake & core-strength training class at gym
Friday (Sept.4) - 5 miles
Saturday (Sept. 5) - off
Sunday (Sept.6) - 10 miles
Monday (Sept.7) - Labor Day, Jason's (son) 7th Birthday, ate a lot, exercised none
Tuesday (Sept.8) - 1st Day of School, 4 miles
Wednesday (Sept.9) - Got flu, puked in front of students at school, exercised none
Thursday (Sept.10) - Still sick, exercised none
Friday (Sept.11) - Still sick, exercised none
Saturday (Sept.12) - 5 miles
Which brings us to today, Sunday September 13th. This weekend I was scheduled to run 18 miles. Once again, I could not do it with Team in Training because Ariana (3-year old daughter) had her very first soccer practice and it is still physically impossible to be in two places at once.
On the first day of school, while at my daily ritual Starbucks stop, I ran into my "former trainer/friend." I told him how I was going to have to run the 18 miles on my own, and he tentatively agreed to do all or part of the run with me. By the end of the week we determined that we were going to do the run on Sunday morning, I would do the first 8 miles on my own and that he would pick up the last 10 with me. Now, I have done a lot of hard work on my own since he was most recently shunned, and this run should have been strategically used by me to show off my quicker pace and increased endurance. Basically, for the first time ever, I had the chance to beat him at something (other than Jeopardy). A golden opportunity squandered.
Last night, Saturday, I attended a DC United soccer game. Well, not just the game. I went to the pre-game tailgate, where I behaved myself and drank orange gatorade while everyone else was drinking beer. Then we went inside the stadium. It all went downhill from there. I switched from gatorade to liquor and then the game was over (DC United lost). If I had the sense to go home and go to bed at that moment, all would have been well. But, I didn't. I drank more. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid.
I woke up at 5:50 this morning to start the first 8 miles. Um, I was still drunk. I went back to sleep. I got back up at 7:30 am, now suffering from an acute hangover. I got ready and drove out to the trail to meet my trainer. At this point I planned to just run the 10 miles with him and make up the 18 later. We started, slowly, painfully. Each step jarred the remaining liquid contents in my stomach. It was bad. I quit 1.5 miles into the run. I couldn't even run back. We had to walk the mile and half back. Since the day was already a huge loss, I decided I might as well enjoy the nice weather...so nachos and frozen margaritas.
Clearly this run was a failure of priority. As my now restored friend/trainer said, "a complete disregard for the fact that I am training for a marathon." He was being nice. Not only did I miss the window of opportunity to physically show him up, I wasted his time.
Worst of all, though, is that this weekend was the first time since I began this whole process that I cannot even claim to have quit, I didn't even try.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
16 Miles
Summary of the past ten days: vacation ended, work resumed, and my gym is closed for annual maintenance. After the successful completion of my 14 mile run at the beach, I pretty much did no other form of physical activity for the next 5 days. Three days after we returned I begrudgingly began to unpack and accepted the fact that I was going to have to start running again. Monday I ran my best 5 mile time yet, 50 minutes. Tuesday I took off. Wednesday I ran 6 miles, also for my best time yet, 55 minutes. Thursday I took off. Friday I ran 5 miles, and I have no idea what my time was because I had to pee so badly by the time I finished.
Saturday's Team in Training group run was scheduled for 16 miles, starting in Vienna. After being out somewhat late the night before, enjoying some of the absolute best food and wine the area has to offer, I decided to do the run on my own to avoid the drive out to Vienna. In addition to avoiding the drive I could also sleep about 30 minutes longer, still start earlier, and my mentor that I like to run with was not going to be there anyway.
I managed to get up despite my strong desire to put the run off until Sunday morning, got dressed, strapped on the atrocious water belt filled with orange Gatorade, charged my IPod for a few minutes, then headed out to the trail. I was running the W&OD from mile marker 27.5, out 8 miles west into Leesburg, turn-around at mile marker 35.5, and back. I started at 7:05, the weather was mostly overcast, and really humid.
The first two miles were pretty tough. Everything felt off - my knees, how my feet were hitting the ground, my pace, everything. I finally warmed up near the start of the 3rd mile, and began the countdown from 8 - which I also did on the return, it is mentally easier to think about two 8 mile runs than one 16 mile run. My IPod battery died with about 6 miles to go. I drank every last drop of Gatorade the miserable water harness contained. It is possible that I lost an excess of 4 pounds in sweat alone. And the last 3 miles nearly killed me. I think I may have only been semi-conscious during the last mile. But, I finished. On my own. At 10:25. 16 miles. 3 hours, 20 minutes.
During the weekend distance runs, I usually find myself wondering if it is this hard to run 8, 10, 12 miles - how am I ever going to finish the marathon? This time, when I hit the final mile marker, I just wondered how is it going to feel when I finish the marathon?
Saturday's Team in Training group run was scheduled for 16 miles, starting in Vienna. After being out somewhat late the night before, enjoying some of the absolute best food and wine the area has to offer, I decided to do the run on my own to avoid the drive out to Vienna. In addition to avoiding the drive I could also sleep about 30 minutes longer, still start earlier, and my mentor that I like to run with was not going to be there anyway.
I managed to get up despite my strong desire to put the run off until Sunday morning, got dressed, strapped on the atrocious water belt filled with orange Gatorade, charged my IPod for a few minutes, then headed out to the trail. I was running the W&OD from mile marker 27.5, out 8 miles west into Leesburg, turn-around at mile marker 35.5, and back. I started at 7:05, the weather was mostly overcast, and really humid.
The first two miles were pretty tough. Everything felt off - my knees, how my feet were hitting the ground, my pace, everything. I finally warmed up near the start of the 3rd mile, and began the countdown from 8 - which I also did on the return, it is mentally easier to think about two 8 mile runs than one 16 mile run. My IPod battery died with about 6 miles to go. I drank every last drop of Gatorade the miserable water harness contained. It is possible that I lost an excess of 4 pounds in sweat alone. And the last 3 miles nearly killed me. I think I may have only been semi-conscious during the last mile. But, I finished. On my own. At 10:25. 16 miles. 3 hours, 20 minutes.
During the weekend distance runs, I usually find myself wondering if it is this hard to run 8, 10, 12 miles - how am I ever going to finish the marathon? This time, when I hit the final mile marker, I just wondered how is it going to feel when I finish the marathon?
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Did It
Re-ran the 14 miles Wednesday, same course which I attempted on Sunday.
Start Time: 5:35AM
Turn-Around Point: 7:01AM
Finish Time: 8:32AM
I did it.
Start Time: 5:35AM
Turn-Around Point: 7:01AM
Finish Time: 8:32AM
I did it.
Knocks You Down
Dated: 8/16/09 (late post, no wireless internet at the beach)
We arrived in the Outer Banks yesterday, in Duck, after an approximately 11 hour drive. Mapquest estimated it at 5 hours and some change. Because of our departure time I could not do the distance run with the team in training group, so I scheduled the run for this morning at the beach. 14 miles. Over half a marathon. You know, there are actually half-marathon races. So basically I was supposed to run a half-marathon plus 9/10 of a mile this morning. Regrettably, despite all the confidence and assuredness I displayed in my last blog, I failed. Then I cried.
I have a tendency to analyze everything to death and I have decided that there are several reasons I failed. In fact, last night I predicted this morning’s failure – which is in itself one of the many reasons I failed. I have compiled a top ten list.
10. Ate Fast Food. Between getting ready to go to the beach and driving to the beach I ate fast food more times in the last two days than I have in the last two months. Thankfully I do not have access to a scale currently and can be blissfully unaware of the damage caused by the likes of fish fillet sandwiches and beachfront pizzeria pizza slices.
9. Not Enough Sleep. Again, between getting ready to go to the beach and getting here so late last night, I also slept less in the past two days than has been the case since I was suffering from insomnia.
8. IPod Battery Died. Obviously I was running alone, so I brought my IPod along to keep me company for the over three hours I estimated that the run was going to take. The battery died somewhere during mile 2 or 3. Instead of the welcome distraction that it usually provides, I had the pleasure of stuffing it into the horrific water belt. I could not put it into the little pouch thing because my cell phone was there, so I had to shove it into one of the elastic straps for the water containers, and it would periodically start whipping me with the headphones as they slipped out.
7. Not Enough Water. Related to reason #10, I spent two days reverting to old habits of coke drinking, and did not even supplement my beverage choice with an occasional bottle of water.
6. Potty Break. When I reached my turn-around point at mile 7 I had to go to the bathroom. Shocking I know. Fortunately, my turn-around landmark was a hotel. Unfortunately, it was set off the road a little bit and it took probably 2-3 minutes to get inside, a few minutes in the restroom, then another 2-3 minutes to get back to the road. Ultimately, it amounted to a 10 minute potty break in the dead middle of the longest run of my life. My body thought it was over, that I was done. Clearly an unanticipated variable in the ongoing negotiations between my brain and my body.
5. Not Running Enough Last Week. Sunday I took off. Monday I ran one lap (1.25 miles) around the lake, then was coaxed into doing a yoga class at the gym. Tuesday I ran four miles on the trail. Wednesday I went to the gym and did an ab workout and 30 minutes on the stair climber machine. Thursday I ran one lap around the lake, and then went to my regular core strength class at the gym. Friday I did nothing - I got everything ready for the beach. Saturday I did nothing – I drove to the beach.
4. Driving the Route Last Night. Because there are not consistent mile markers along the beach road I was going to be running on, I had to go out last night after we had unpacked and drive the route so I would know where I was going and where I needed to turn around. The speed limit is 35mph, and I swear that just the first 7 miles out took almost 20 minutes. I was watching the odometer by the tenth of a mile, and it took forever. Every other distance run has been along a running/cycling trail, with mile markers every half mile, and you absolutely never drive the exact route you are running, it is impossible. Now, not only do I know far 14 miles really is, I also know why no one ever drives the route that they are going to have to run. Additionally, with the lack of mile markers along the way, it was impossible for me to have any idea of how far I had gone or how much further I was going to have to go (other than when I reached the turn-around), which was supremely frustrating.
3. Lack of Intrinsic Motivation. I am afraid that I perform better when I have someone else to please or something to prove, in this case, my former trainer or my mentor. Today the only person that I was really accountable to was myself, and I failed. This is a major problem, because it cannot be solved with simple analysis, decision, or action.
2. Predicted Failure. About 9 hours into the 11 hour drive, before some of the top ten list even existed, I predicted that I would fail. As soon as I said it, naturally at the same time I was thinking it, I knew that I had committed a mortal sin. Everyone says it, because it is true, distance running (or any other endurance event) is almost entirely mental. You don’t have to believe you can do it, you must know that you can do it; it is just not enough to want to do it, or hope to do it, you cannot just pray about it. You have to know it. The second you do not know it you are done. I was done at about 7pm last night, despite the fact that I didn’t actually quit until 10.5 miles into the run.
1. Without Failure There Cannot Be Success. How does one know hot if they do not know cold? How can there be light without dark? In the same sense, what is the value of victory if one has not also experienced defeat? I am sure that there are all sorts of quotations about success and about failure, but without my only source of information (the internet, and there is no wireless in our beach house) I am left with what I remember (not much). In the second most memorable scene from Jerry McGuire (no, I do not want to debate the merit of Jerry McGuire having memorable scenes) when they are in the locker room and Tom Cruise does the whole “help me help you” monologue, there is a hard to read sign in the background which reads, “Success is simply getting up one more time than you are knocked down.” I am going to get back up and re-run the 14 miles on Wednesday morning.
We arrived in the Outer Banks yesterday, in Duck, after an approximately 11 hour drive. Mapquest estimated it at 5 hours and some change. Because of our departure time I could not do the distance run with the team in training group, so I scheduled the run for this morning at the beach. 14 miles. Over half a marathon. You know, there are actually half-marathon races. So basically I was supposed to run a half-marathon plus 9/10 of a mile this morning. Regrettably, despite all the confidence and assuredness I displayed in my last blog, I failed. Then I cried.
I have a tendency to analyze everything to death and I have decided that there are several reasons I failed. In fact, last night I predicted this morning’s failure – which is in itself one of the many reasons I failed. I have compiled a top ten list.
10. Ate Fast Food. Between getting ready to go to the beach and driving to the beach I ate fast food more times in the last two days than I have in the last two months. Thankfully I do not have access to a scale currently and can be blissfully unaware of the damage caused by the likes of fish fillet sandwiches and beachfront pizzeria pizza slices.
9. Not Enough Sleep. Again, between getting ready to go to the beach and getting here so late last night, I also slept less in the past two days than has been the case since I was suffering from insomnia.
8. IPod Battery Died. Obviously I was running alone, so I brought my IPod along to keep me company for the over three hours I estimated that the run was going to take. The battery died somewhere during mile 2 or 3. Instead of the welcome distraction that it usually provides, I had the pleasure of stuffing it into the horrific water belt. I could not put it into the little pouch thing because my cell phone was there, so I had to shove it into one of the elastic straps for the water containers, and it would periodically start whipping me with the headphones as they slipped out.
7. Not Enough Water. Related to reason #10, I spent two days reverting to old habits of coke drinking, and did not even supplement my beverage choice with an occasional bottle of water.
6. Potty Break. When I reached my turn-around point at mile 7 I had to go to the bathroom. Shocking I know. Fortunately, my turn-around landmark was a hotel. Unfortunately, it was set off the road a little bit and it took probably 2-3 minutes to get inside, a few minutes in the restroom, then another 2-3 minutes to get back to the road. Ultimately, it amounted to a 10 minute potty break in the dead middle of the longest run of my life. My body thought it was over, that I was done. Clearly an unanticipated variable in the ongoing negotiations between my brain and my body.
5. Not Running Enough Last Week. Sunday I took off. Monday I ran one lap (1.25 miles) around the lake, then was coaxed into doing a yoga class at the gym. Tuesday I ran four miles on the trail. Wednesday I went to the gym and did an ab workout and 30 minutes on the stair climber machine. Thursday I ran one lap around the lake, and then went to my regular core strength class at the gym. Friday I did nothing - I got everything ready for the beach. Saturday I did nothing – I drove to the beach.
4. Driving the Route Last Night. Because there are not consistent mile markers along the beach road I was going to be running on, I had to go out last night after we had unpacked and drive the route so I would know where I was going and where I needed to turn around. The speed limit is 35mph, and I swear that just the first 7 miles out took almost 20 minutes. I was watching the odometer by the tenth of a mile, and it took forever. Every other distance run has been along a running/cycling trail, with mile markers every half mile, and you absolutely never drive the exact route you are running, it is impossible. Now, not only do I know far 14 miles really is, I also know why no one ever drives the route that they are going to have to run. Additionally, with the lack of mile markers along the way, it was impossible for me to have any idea of how far I had gone or how much further I was going to have to go (other than when I reached the turn-around), which was supremely frustrating.
3. Lack of Intrinsic Motivation. I am afraid that I perform better when I have someone else to please or something to prove, in this case, my former trainer or my mentor. Today the only person that I was really accountable to was myself, and I failed. This is a major problem, because it cannot be solved with simple analysis, decision, or action.
2. Predicted Failure. About 9 hours into the 11 hour drive, before some of the top ten list even existed, I predicted that I would fail. As soon as I said it, naturally at the same time I was thinking it, I knew that I had committed a mortal sin. Everyone says it, because it is true, distance running (or any other endurance event) is almost entirely mental. You don’t have to believe you can do it, you must know that you can do it; it is just not enough to want to do it, or hope to do it, you cannot just pray about it. You have to know it. The second you do not know it you are done. I was done at about 7pm last night, despite the fact that I didn’t actually quit until 10.5 miles into the run.
1. Without Failure There Cannot Be Success. How does one know hot if they do not know cold? How can there be light without dark? In the same sense, what is the value of victory if one has not also experienced defeat? I am sure that there are all sorts of quotations about success and about failure, but without my only source of information (the internet, and there is no wireless in our beach house) I am left with what I remember (not much). In the second most memorable scene from Jerry McGuire (no, I do not want to debate the merit of Jerry McGuire having memorable scenes) when they are in the locker room and Tom Cruise does the whole “help me help you” monologue, there is a hard to read sign in the background which reads, “Success is simply getting up one more time than you are knocked down.” I am going to get back up and re-run the 14 miles on Wednesday morning.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Deal Breaker
Last week's training log...
Monday - 2.5 mile recovery run (2 laps around the lake)
Tuesday - 5 mile run - final run with "trainer/friend"
Wednesday - in the gym - chest and abs
Thursday - 1.25 miles (1 lap around the lake) & Core Strength training class in the gym
Friday - 5 mile run
Saturday was my first group run with Team in Training in about a month. The distance run was only 8 miles this week. We ran on the W&OD in Sterling, much of the same course that I had run the week before when I did the 12 miles on my own. Luckily my mentor Caroline was there, so I had someone to keep me company. I did not properly hydrate either before, during, or after the run which I definitely was regretting by the time we reached the turn-around point. My final time was 1 hour, 33 minutes.
This coming week the distance run jumps up to 14 miles. I will be leaving for the Outer Banks at the same time as the group training run with TNT, so I will have to do it on my own Sunday morning at the beach. The prospect of this run is somewhat daunting given that 14 miles is more than a half-marathon! Fortunately, since my "trainer/friend" was such an unreliable moron, I have already proven to myself that I am capable of completing this alone. Really I guess I should be thanking him for his total lack of care, concern, or consideration. Needless to say, he is no longer my "friend" or "trainer."
As Liz Lemon (30 Rock) would say, "That's a Deal Breaker, Ladies!"
Monday - 2.5 mile recovery run (2 laps around the lake)
Tuesday - 5 mile run - final run with "trainer/friend"
Wednesday - in the gym - chest and abs
Thursday - 1.25 miles (1 lap around the lake) & Core Strength training class in the gym
Friday - 5 mile run
Saturday was my first group run with Team in Training in about a month. The distance run was only 8 miles this week. We ran on the W&OD in Sterling, much of the same course that I had run the week before when I did the 12 miles on my own. Luckily my mentor Caroline was there, so I had someone to keep me company. I did not properly hydrate either before, during, or after the run which I definitely was regretting by the time we reached the turn-around point. My final time was 1 hour, 33 minutes.
This coming week the distance run jumps up to 14 miles. I will be leaving for the Outer Banks at the same time as the group training run with TNT, so I will have to do it on my own Sunday morning at the beach. The prospect of this run is somewhat daunting given that 14 miles is more than a half-marathon! Fortunately, since my "trainer/friend" was such an unreliable moron, I have already proven to myself that I am capable of completing this alone. Really I guess I should be thanking him for his total lack of care, concern, or consideration. Needless to say, he is no longer my "friend" or "trainer."
As Liz Lemon (30 Rock) would say, "That's a Deal Breaker, Ladies!"
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Negotiation
The past week was not my strongest training effort to date...
Monday - Recovery Run (3 laps around the lake - 3.75 miles)
Tuesday - Hills (again, hell). We ran a up and walked down a much longer hill this time around. It was hotter than hell and there was some random red negligee and black stockings in the middle of the street, about halfway up the hill. This may not be humorous if we were say, in Las Vegas, but we were running in a suburban development, a country club community, in Northern Virginia.
Wednesday - In the gym. Abs and Arms workout.
Thursday - Ran 2.5 miles (around the lake twice) then went to core strength training class.
Friday - Ran 6 miles on the W&OD to prepare for distance run on Sunday.
Saturday - Off.
Sunday -
This morning's run was scheduled for 6:20am on the W&OD, starting in Sterling and going east. My "trainer/friend" did not show up, surprisingly not the sleaziest thing he has done to me in the past year, and so at 6:50 I started the 12 miles.
Today was probably the first time that I really looked like a "serious" runner - I finally bought some dryfit running skirts with coordinating tanks and halter bras. Of course the cute little light blue ensemble I chose for this morning was marred by the presence of a hideous black and red water belt. Ugh.
I started at mile marker 24, was running out six miles to 18, then back. The first 4 miles were really tough, I had not run this part of the trail before and there were a lot more hills than I expected. I lost track of my mileage and at one point thought I had run 4 miles and then saw the next mile marker and realized I had only gone 3 1/2, which sucked. The weather was great, it was overcast and cool, so breathing was definitely much easier. There was intermittent rain to rinse the sweat off of my face, arms, and legs.
The last mile and a half was also really hard, both physically and mentally. It seemed as if each step required my mind to convince my body that I was not actually going to die, that it just felt that way. I am not sure, but I think there was an ongoing hostage negotiation between my head and my feet, translated twice in between, once by my hips then again by my knees.
I only stopped twice, once to tie my shoe and once to pee. I never walked once. I did, however, still cheat a little - I brought my IPod. The battery survived the entire 12 miles, miraculously so did I, as I was serenaded by Eminem, Billy Joel, Bruce Springsteen, Madonna, Wyclef Jean, and Cher.
The run ended with a huge hill, which I sprinted up and then down, hitting mile marker 24 on my descent. 2 hours, 25 minutes. I completed today's run in the exact same fashion as I have accomplished and managed everything else of note in my life, on my own.
Monday - Recovery Run (3 laps around the lake - 3.75 miles)
Tuesday - Hills (again, hell). We ran a up and walked down a much longer hill this time around. It was hotter than hell and there was some random red negligee and black stockings in the middle of the street, about halfway up the hill. This may not be humorous if we were say, in Las Vegas, but we were running in a suburban development, a country club community, in Northern Virginia.
Wednesday - In the gym. Abs and Arms workout.
Thursday - Ran 2.5 miles (around the lake twice) then went to core strength training class.
Friday - Ran 6 miles on the W&OD to prepare for distance run on Sunday.
Saturday - Off.
Sunday -
This morning's run was scheduled for 6:20am on the W&OD, starting in Sterling and going east. My "trainer/friend" did not show up, surprisingly not the sleaziest thing he has done to me in the past year, and so at 6:50 I started the 12 miles.
Today was probably the first time that I really looked like a "serious" runner - I finally bought some dryfit running skirts with coordinating tanks and halter bras. Of course the cute little light blue ensemble I chose for this morning was marred by the presence of a hideous black and red water belt. Ugh.
I started at mile marker 24, was running out six miles to 18, then back. The first 4 miles were really tough, I had not run this part of the trail before and there were a lot more hills than I expected. I lost track of my mileage and at one point thought I had run 4 miles and then saw the next mile marker and realized I had only gone 3 1/2, which sucked. The weather was great, it was overcast and cool, so breathing was definitely much easier. There was intermittent rain to rinse the sweat off of my face, arms, and legs.
The last mile and a half was also really hard, both physically and mentally. It seemed as if each step required my mind to convince my body that I was not actually going to die, that it just felt that way. I am not sure, but I think there was an ongoing hostage negotiation between my head and my feet, translated twice in between, once by my hips then again by my knees.
I only stopped twice, once to tie my shoe and once to pee. I never walked once. I did, however, still cheat a little - I brought my IPod. The battery survived the entire 12 miles, miraculously so did I, as I was serenaded by Eminem, Billy Joel, Bruce Springsteen, Madonna, Wyclef Jean, and Cher.
The run ended with a huge hill, which I sprinted up and then down, hitting mile marker 24 on my descent. 2 hours, 25 minutes. I completed today's run in the exact same fashion as I have accomplished and managed everything else of note in my life, on my own.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
What I'm Looking For
This week's distance run was scheduled for Saturday morning, and once again I had plans out on the water, canoeing on the Shenandoah this time. As a result my run was rescheduled for Sunday with my friend/trainer. The mileage dropped back down to 8 this week, and I found myself saying "only 8 miles" as I prepared to get on the trail. Only? What the hell?
We got on the W&OD at mile marker 27.5 at the Carolina Bros. BBQ place in Ashburn, and ran 4 miles east to Sterling and back. Despite the fact that I had stopped drinking wine only 4 hours earlier, and had less than 3 hours of sleep, the run was not miserable. It was, however, pouring down rain for a good portion of the last 4 miles. Fortunately, I had already been educated that we run anyway. I fantasized about crawling back into my nice warm bed for the majority of the way. The best part? Thanks to all the wine (and lack of any water before, during, or after the wine) I did not have to stop to pee once during the 8 miles! Awesome. We were done in about 1 hour, 30 minutes.
This whole process began about two months ago, and for everything I have learned about the science of running, I have learned even more about myself. I think it has something to do with the solitude out on the trail, it is just you and the pavement, even if you are running with a partner. It also has something to do with the nature of progress itself, you set a goal, you meet it, and set the next goal. But there is also something else that I cannot identify, something greater than solitude or progress...perhaps I am in the midst of a shift in paradigm, the movement from can't to can to did, the evolution of will over weakness, the emerging emphasis of life in lifestyle.
What I value, what I want, has also changed. I was divorced nearly 3 years ago, and have dated sporadically, unsuccessfully, since. During these past 3 years I would say that the song, "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" by U2 would best describe how I felt about men and the whole dating process. I now believe that I was looking for the wrong thing. Instead of looking for someone to complete me, I should have been looking for someone that would help me to complete myself. Instead of looking for someone to please me, I should have been looking for someone that would push me. Instead of looking for a man that was going to love me, I should have been looking for a man that would run with me. Maybe instead of finding what I was looking for, I have found what I should have been looking for all along.
We got on the W&OD at mile marker 27.5 at the Carolina Bros. BBQ place in Ashburn, and ran 4 miles east to Sterling and back. Despite the fact that I had stopped drinking wine only 4 hours earlier, and had less than 3 hours of sleep, the run was not miserable. It was, however, pouring down rain for a good portion of the last 4 miles. Fortunately, I had already been educated that we run anyway. I fantasized about crawling back into my nice warm bed for the majority of the way. The best part? Thanks to all the wine (and lack of any water before, during, or after the wine) I did not have to stop to pee once during the 8 miles! Awesome. We were done in about 1 hour, 30 minutes.
This whole process began about two months ago, and for everything I have learned about the science of running, I have learned even more about myself. I think it has something to do with the solitude out on the trail, it is just you and the pavement, even if you are running with a partner. It also has something to do with the nature of progress itself, you set a goal, you meet it, and set the next goal. But there is also something else that I cannot identify, something greater than solitude or progress...perhaps I am in the midst of a shift in paradigm, the movement from can't to can to did, the evolution of will over weakness, the emerging emphasis of life in lifestyle.
What I value, what I want, has also changed. I was divorced nearly 3 years ago, and have dated sporadically, unsuccessfully, since. During these past 3 years I would say that the song, "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" by U2 would best describe how I felt about men and the whole dating process. I now believe that I was looking for the wrong thing. Instead of looking for someone to complete me, I should have been looking for someone that would help me to complete myself. Instead of looking for someone to please me, I should have been looking for someone that would push me. Instead of looking for a man that was going to love me, I should have been looking for a man that would run with me. Maybe instead of finding what I was looking for, I have found what I should have been looking for all along.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Double Digits
I did a mediocre job of training this week...
Sunday - 40 minute recovery run - ran up to the lake, ran two laps around, went into the gym to pee, then walked home (probably just under 4 miles total, 3.5 running)
Monday - 4 mile run on the W&OD
Tuesday - Lifting in the Gym - abs and chest - felt fine at the time...seriously sore by Thursday
Wednesday - 5 mile "run" - through Ashburn Village - worst training day yet...the day began with several mimosas and ended with a miserable whiny sloppy attempted run of 5 miles
Thursday - Core Strength Class at the Gym - chastised by the instructor for not selecting heavy enough weights, was late and had to take the spot at the very front of the classroom (next to the instructor and in front of the mirror) - again, felt fine at the time...seriously sore compounded
Friday - 6 mile run on the W&OD - thought I was going to pee on myself by mile 4 and actually almost did by the end
Saturday - Off, yet still quite sore. I had planned to take the kids out fishing on the Chesapeake all day Saturday, the direct consequence of this decision was that I was going to have to do the 10 mile distance run on my own Sunday. I asked my friend/trainer to run it with me. He has not been doing the distance runs with me, I usually go out with the TNT group, so this was a huge favor to ask. I thought he might agree to the last 5 miles, but he surprised me and said he would do the whole run with me. I could not sleep at all Monday night because I was so anxious about how I was going to run 10 miles.
We decided to meet at the Belmont Ridge access point to the W&OD, go 5 miles west and turn around, oh yeah, at 6 in the morning. I showed up a couple of minutes past 6, after forgetting and having to go back for the water (weight) belt and still barefoot. My friend wasn't there yet, odd for the militarily-inclined, so I stretched and waited (and worried). At 6:20 he still wasn't there, I knew I had to start right then or I would not finish in time to get the kids to Sunday School. Annoyed, I set off on our planned route.
At first I thought he was just a few minutes behind and would catch up with me, but a mile in that thought was ridiculous. Then I thought maybe he would meet me at the next access point, then I passed that access point. By the end of the second mile I knew for sure I was about to run 10 f-ing miles on my own...which, to reiterate, really sucks.
I spent the next half mile brainstorming all of the things I was going to say to him, or likely email to him, before indefinitely refusing to speak to him. Things like how inconsiderate it was to just not show up, how just like a man that was, how you can stand a girl up for a date but not a 10 mile run. I was going to remind him of all the recent attacks on the W&OD and tell him how dangerous it was to leave me to run alone at 6 in the morning. I was going to challenge both character and chivalry.
As I was pondering all of my possible reactions, I heard footsteps coming up behind me, and of course assumed it was the attacker coming to get me after sensing an unaccompanied female runner. It was not, it was my friend, who ran over 2 1/2 miles to catch up with me. I would like to point out that if I am running with him and stop to tie my shoe and he keeps going it is absolutely exhausting to make up the 7 missed steps...2 1/2 miles is a long f-ing way.
We ran out the rest of the 5 into historic Leesburg, then turned around. At about 5 1/2 miles we stopped at a gas station so I could, you guessed it, pee. Then we kept going. Strangely enough, this was by far my easiest distance run to date. The last 1/2 mile was really a struggle, but otherwise I think this was my best run so far. I finished in 2 hours and 10 minutes, (his time was probably faster given the first 2 1/2 miles) which is about a 13 minute mile pace, not terrible.
I feel like Dora the Explorer, "I did it, I did it, I did it, yeah!"
Sunday - 40 minute recovery run - ran up to the lake, ran two laps around, went into the gym to pee, then walked home (probably just under 4 miles total, 3.5 running)
Monday - 4 mile run on the W&OD
Tuesday - Lifting in the Gym - abs and chest - felt fine at the time...seriously sore by Thursday
Wednesday - 5 mile "run" - through Ashburn Village - worst training day yet...the day began with several mimosas and ended with a miserable whiny sloppy attempted run of 5 miles
Thursday - Core Strength Class at the Gym - chastised by the instructor for not selecting heavy enough weights, was late and had to take the spot at the very front of the classroom (next to the instructor and in front of the mirror) - again, felt fine at the time...seriously sore compounded
Friday - 6 mile run on the W&OD - thought I was going to pee on myself by mile 4 and actually almost did by the end
Saturday - Off, yet still quite sore. I had planned to take the kids out fishing on the Chesapeake all day Saturday, the direct consequence of this decision was that I was going to have to do the 10 mile distance run on my own Sunday. I asked my friend/trainer to run it with me. He has not been doing the distance runs with me, I usually go out with the TNT group, so this was a huge favor to ask. I thought he might agree to the last 5 miles, but he surprised me and said he would do the whole run with me. I could not sleep at all Monday night because I was so anxious about how I was going to run 10 miles.
We decided to meet at the Belmont Ridge access point to the W&OD, go 5 miles west and turn around, oh yeah, at 6 in the morning. I showed up a couple of minutes past 6, after forgetting and having to go back for the water (weight) belt and still barefoot. My friend wasn't there yet, odd for the militarily-inclined, so I stretched and waited (and worried). At 6:20 he still wasn't there, I knew I had to start right then or I would not finish in time to get the kids to Sunday School. Annoyed, I set off on our planned route.
At first I thought he was just a few minutes behind and would catch up with me, but a mile in that thought was ridiculous. Then I thought maybe he would meet me at the next access point, then I passed that access point. By the end of the second mile I knew for sure I was about to run 10 f-ing miles on my own...which, to reiterate, really sucks.
I spent the next half mile brainstorming all of the things I was going to say to him, or likely email to him, before indefinitely refusing to speak to him. Things like how inconsiderate it was to just not show up, how just like a man that was, how you can stand a girl up for a date but not a 10 mile run. I was going to remind him of all the recent attacks on the W&OD and tell him how dangerous it was to leave me to run alone at 6 in the morning. I was going to challenge both character and chivalry.
As I was pondering all of my possible reactions, I heard footsteps coming up behind me, and of course assumed it was the attacker coming to get me after sensing an unaccompanied female runner. It was not, it was my friend, who ran over 2 1/2 miles to catch up with me. I would like to point out that if I am running with him and stop to tie my shoe and he keeps going it is absolutely exhausting to make up the 7 missed steps...2 1/2 miles is a long f-ing way.
We ran out the rest of the 5 into historic Leesburg, then turned around. At about 5 1/2 miles we stopped at a gas station so I could, you guessed it, pee. Then we kept going. Strangely enough, this was by far my easiest distance run to date. The last 1/2 mile was really a struggle, but otherwise I think this was my best run so far. I finished in 2 hours and 10 minutes, (his time was probably faster given the first 2 1/2 miles) which is about a 13 minute mile pace, not terrible.
I feel like Dora the Explorer, "I did it, I did it, I did it, yeah!"
Saturday, July 11, 2009
You Have A Choice...
First, a recap of this week's training...
Sunday - Recovery Run (3.75 miles)
Monday - Ran the country road loop around my grandparents' house (approximately 4 miles).
Tuesday - Off day as a result of insomnia Monday night.
Wednesday - Ran a lap around the lake near my grandparents' house (approximately 3.3 miles).
Thursday - Core strength class at gym, 55 minutes, then one pathetic lap around my lake (1.25 miles)
Friday - Weight lifting with concentration on abs and arms in the gym
As usual, there were many tactical errors on my part this week. First, I ran less than 8 miles over the course of the week, not including Sunday's recovery run. Second, on Friday I "hydrated" with mimosas instead of water. Not a good call. I was reasonably concerned going into today's 8 mile group run. Concerned enough that I prayed; I prayed that I would finish, then I submitted an addendum prayer that if I couldn't finish please just don't let me die with that ugly water belt on my waist!
I woke up extra early this morning and worked in some stretching, ate a handful of dry cereal, and drank some water. By the time I arrived at the location of our 8-mile group run on the W&OD between Sterling and Ashburn I had actually worked myself into a state of fear. I looked around and I didn't see my mentor, which scared me even more, because without her I was still basically going to be running on my own.
The coaches started with what is called a "Mission Moment." Coach Kim told us about a woman who joined Team in Training a few years back, she was always really quiet, no one really knew why she was there. Then about halfway through the season she shared her story. Her 10-year-old daughter had died of leukemia two months before, a week before her 30th birthday. She raised $20,000 in honor of her daughter, so other parents would not have to experience such a loss. I cannot imagine. She has raised $20,000 every season since, and has to date raised over $300,000. This brief story, this mission moment, helped put what I was about to do back into perspective. How many miles could you run to save your child, to prevent your child, from dying? 8 miles didn't seem so far anymore.
After we did a little warm-up run and stretched, Coach Chip asked how many people were running 8 miles for the first time ever - about 1/3 of the runners there raised their hand, including me. This, too, helped calm my fears, if only slightly. I joined the 11.5 minute mile pace group, and off we went. After 4 minutes I realized that the group I joined was actually a run-walk group, so I was on my own again...which, sucks. The first mile I kept telling myself that "the first mile always sucks." By the second mile I had already started the countdown to the turn-around (half-way) point. Somewhere during mile 3, I fell into step with the 12 minute mile pace group, which included my mentor Caroline, I was so happy to see her!
By mile 5 I really did not know if I had it in me. My legs were tired. My lungs were tight. The f-ing water belt (i.e. weight belt because I was not actually drinking any of the water) was heavy and hot on my waist. I wanted to quit. OK, not quit, but I wanted to stop and walk. But, my breathing was still steady, and Caroline was still going, so I kept running.
At the start of mile 7 I hit the wall. I knew it was still another 2 miles to go. I knew I had already gone further than ever before in my life. I knew there was going to be a huge hill at the end. My breathing was still steady, but had dropped down to a 3 count from my usual 4 count...it always gets faster toward the end, but typically not until the last 1/2 mile. But now it was just Caroline and I, everyone else in the pace group had dropped back some, and Caroline was keeping us at a perfect 12 minute mile pace. I thought that I might actually collapse. Almost puked, twice.
Then I remembered the quote the coaches sent out to us this week, which of all places came from a Gatorade bottle, "You have a choice. You can throw in the towel, or you can use it to wipe the sweat off your face."
Today I chose to wipe the sweat off my face. I completed the 8 miles. 1 hour, 36 minutes. No quitting, no stopping, no walking.
Sunday - Recovery Run (3.75 miles)
Monday - Ran the country road loop around my grandparents' house (approximately 4 miles).
Tuesday - Off day as a result of insomnia Monday night.
Wednesday - Ran a lap around the lake near my grandparents' house (approximately 3.3 miles).
Thursday - Core strength class at gym, 55 minutes, then one pathetic lap around my lake (1.25 miles)
Friday - Weight lifting with concentration on abs and arms in the gym
As usual, there were many tactical errors on my part this week. First, I ran less than 8 miles over the course of the week, not including Sunday's recovery run. Second, on Friday I "hydrated" with mimosas instead of water. Not a good call. I was reasonably concerned going into today's 8 mile group run. Concerned enough that I prayed; I prayed that I would finish, then I submitted an addendum prayer that if I couldn't finish please just don't let me die with that ugly water belt on my waist!
I woke up extra early this morning and worked in some stretching, ate a handful of dry cereal, and drank some water. By the time I arrived at the location of our 8-mile group run on the W&OD between Sterling and Ashburn I had actually worked myself into a state of fear. I looked around and I didn't see my mentor, which scared me even more, because without her I was still basically going to be running on my own.
The coaches started with what is called a "Mission Moment." Coach Kim told us about a woman who joined Team in Training a few years back, she was always really quiet, no one really knew why she was there. Then about halfway through the season she shared her story. Her 10-year-old daughter had died of leukemia two months before, a week before her 30th birthday. She raised $20,000 in honor of her daughter, so other parents would not have to experience such a loss. I cannot imagine. She has raised $20,000 every season since, and has to date raised over $300,000. This brief story, this mission moment, helped put what I was about to do back into perspective. How many miles could you run to save your child, to prevent your child, from dying? 8 miles didn't seem so far anymore.
After we did a little warm-up run and stretched, Coach Chip asked how many people were running 8 miles for the first time ever - about 1/3 of the runners there raised their hand, including me. This, too, helped calm my fears, if only slightly. I joined the 11.5 minute mile pace group, and off we went. After 4 minutes I realized that the group I joined was actually a run-walk group, so I was on my own again...which, sucks. The first mile I kept telling myself that "the first mile always sucks." By the second mile I had already started the countdown to the turn-around (half-way) point. Somewhere during mile 3, I fell into step with the 12 minute mile pace group, which included my mentor Caroline, I was so happy to see her!
By mile 5 I really did not know if I had it in me. My legs were tired. My lungs were tight. The f-ing water belt (i.e. weight belt because I was not actually drinking any of the water) was heavy and hot on my waist. I wanted to quit. OK, not quit, but I wanted to stop and walk. But, my breathing was still steady, and Caroline was still going, so I kept running.
At the start of mile 7 I hit the wall. I knew it was still another 2 miles to go. I knew I had already gone further than ever before in my life. I knew there was going to be a huge hill at the end. My breathing was still steady, but had dropped down to a 3 count from my usual 4 count...it always gets faster toward the end, but typically not until the last 1/2 mile. But now it was just Caroline and I, everyone else in the pace group had dropped back some, and Caroline was keeping us at a perfect 12 minute mile pace. I thought that I might actually collapse. Almost puked, twice.
Then I remembered the quote the coaches sent out to us this week, which of all places came from a Gatorade bottle, "You have a choice. You can throw in the towel, or you can use it to wipe the sweat off your face."
Today I chose to wipe the sweat off my face. I completed the 8 miles. 1 hour, 36 minutes. No quitting, no stopping, no walking.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Sleepless in Pennsylvania
My schedule for this week is as follows:
Sunday - 40-minute recovery run
Monday - 40-minute run
Tuesday - off
Wednesday - 40-minute run
Thursday - Core-strength class at gym
Friday- off
Saturday- 8-mile group run
After my six mile run on Saturday, I had a 40-minute recovery run scheduled for Sunday. Since this was also on my own I decided to run 3 laps around the lake (3.75 miles), which took more like 50-minutes. My IPod battery died at the end of the first lap, so I ran the next 2.5 miles carrying an IPod that I couldn't even listen to.
Monday I drove up to Pennsylvania with the kids to visit my grandparents, and after 5 hours in the car (which, by the way is less time than it will take me to complete the marathon) I really didn't feel like going to run when we got here. They live deep in the open country of the northeastern corner of the state - marked by a beautiful landscape, kind people, and economic hardship. Despite the fact that I was still tired from the drive, I knew I needed to run, and they suggested a 4-mile loop around their house. I changed clothes, let them give me landmark-based directions, and set off.
What they did not tell me was that it is uphill the whole way. I am certainly not an engineer, mathematician, or generally bright with these sorts of things, but I did not realize that it was even possible for an f-ing circle to be uphill the entire way around. It was. OK, maybe there were two very brief declines, but seriously...this was not a day that was scheduled for hills. It took me over an hour. Oh, and I had not drank any water all day.
Monday night I was plagued with insomnia, something that has only happened to me once before, but is infinitely painful and frustrating, so Tuesday was determined (by me) to be an off day. I hope to sleep tonight as I am planning a 5 mile run around a huge lake tomorrow!
Mostly though I am just looking forward to getting back into my regular routine with my running partner - it makes everything less painful, more entertaining, I am more motivated, the time goes by more quickly and the running feels more effortless. Running alone sucks.
Sunday - 40-minute recovery run
Monday - 40-minute run
Tuesday - off
Wednesday - 40-minute run
Thursday - Core-strength class at gym
Friday- off
Saturday- 8-mile group run
After my six mile run on Saturday, I had a 40-minute recovery run scheduled for Sunday. Since this was also on my own I decided to run 3 laps around the lake (3.75 miles), which took more like 50-minutes. My IPod battery died at the end of the first lap, so I ran the next 2.5 miles carrying an IPod that I couldn't even listen to.
Monday I drove up to Pennsylvania with the kids to visit my grandparents, and after 5 hours in the car (which, by the way is less time than it will take me to complete the marathon) I really didn't feel like going to run when we got here. They live deep in the open country of the northeastern corner of the state - marked by a beautiful landscape, kind people, and economic hardship. Despite the fact that I was still tired from the drive, I knew I needed to run, and they suggested a 4-mile loop around their house. I changed clothes, let them give me landmark-based directions, and set off.
What they did not tell me was that it is uphill the whole way. I am certainly not an engineer, mathematician, or generally bright with these sorts of things, but I did not realize that it was even possible for an f-ing circle to be uphill the entire way around. It was. OK, maybe there were two very brief declines, but seriously...this was not a day that was scheduled for hills. It took me over an hour. Oh, and I had not drank any water all day.
Monday night I was plagued with insomnia, something that has only happened to me once before, but is infinitely painful and frustrating, so Tuesday was determined (by me) to be an off day. I hope to sleep tonight as I am planning a 5 mile run around a huge lake tomorrow!
Mostly though I am just looking forward to getting back into my regular routine with my running partner - it makes everything less painful, more entertaining, I am more motivated, the time goes by more quickly and the running feels more effortless. Running alone sucks.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Five Guys and Six Miles
So, this was the plan for yesterday...run two laps around the lake (2.5 miles) then get in the gym and work on abs and arms. Yeah, um, I went to Five Guys instead. For anyone not from the DC metro area, Five Guys is the the best hamburger place in town. After consuming what probably amounted to over a pound of food I did walk around the lake once, but there was no running, and no lifting...oh well, I guess that is what "off" days are for...no, probably not.
Because today is the Fourth of July, I was left to complete the weekly distance run, 6 miles, on my own. When I awoke at 7:00 this morning I was reasonably daunted by the task at hand - I was going to be running alone because of the holiday, it was going to be the furthest I had run to date, and I had fueled my body with a greasy yet yummy cheeseburger the night before. I hastily chugged a bottle of water for hydration on drive to the trail.
I got on the W&OD in Ashburn by the Carolina Brothers BBQ place at mile marker 27.5 and planned to run out 3 miles to mile marker 30.5, then turn around and come back. At the first mile marker, so 1/2 mile out, I realized that in my anxiety about the run I had forgotten to go pee. And I drank a bottle of water on the way there. Awesome.
The first two miles were rough - it seemed like I could not get into a good pace, my knee was making some sort of clicking noise, I thought something was stuck to the bottom of my shoe, aaaand I still had to pee. Then something happened. (no, I didn't pee) My breathing, my pace, my arm swing - it's like it all aligned. It became so much easier, I was actually enjoying the sounds of the morning, and perhaps for the first time was not solely focused on the degree of pain associated with each step.
Until about mile 4, at which point I realized that I really, really had to pee. I do not use public restrooms, I certainly do not use porta-potties, I do not go in the woods. I thought about all of the above. Then I snapped back to reality and decided that I would rather pee in my pants. This made for a long final 2 miles. I did make it though. On my own. No walking.
When I got back to my car I looked at my stop watch (i.e. cell phone) and apparently it took 1 hour and 20 minutes to run the 6 miles. No wonder I was not in pain, I was running a 13 minute mile.
What I Learned: 1. Do not eat Five Guys the night before you run. 2. Do go pee before you run.
Because today is the Fourth of July, I was left to complete the weekly distance run, 6 miles, on my own. When I awoke at 7:00 this morning I was reasonably daunted by the task at hand - I was going to be running alone because of the holiday, it was going to be the furthest I had run to date, and I had fueled my body with a greasy yet yummy cheeseburger the night before. I hastily chugged a bottle of water for hydration on drive to the trail.
I got on the W&OD in Ashburn by the Carolina Brothers BBQ place at mile marker 27.5 and planned to run out 3 miles to mile marker 30.5, then turn around and come back. At the first mile marker, so 1/2 mile out, I realized that in my anxiety about the run I had forgotten to go pee. And I drank a bottle of water on the way there. Awesome.
The first two miles were rough - it seemed like I could not get into a good pace, my knee was making some sort of clicking noise, I thought something was stuck to the bottom of my shoe, aaaand I still had to pee. Then something happened. (no, I didn't pee) My breathing, my pace, my arm swing - it's like it all aligned. It became so much easier, I was actually enjoying the sounds of the morning, and perhaps for the first time was not solely focused on the degree of pain associated with each step.
Until about mile 4, at which point I realized that I really, really had to pee. I do not use public restrooms, I certainly do not use porta-potties, I do not go in the woods. I thought about all of the above. Then I snapped back to reality and decided that I would rather pee in my pants. This made for a long final 2 miles. I did make it though. On my own. No walking.
When I got back to my car I looked at my stop watch (i.e. cell phone) and apparently it took 1 hour and 20 minutes to run the 6 miles. No wonder I was not in pain, I was running a 13 minute mile.
What I Learned: 1. Do not eat Five Guys the night before you run. 2. Do go pee before you run.
Friday, July 3, 2009
"Free Falling" Dance Mix
I ran around the lake once before my core-strength training class at the gym last night, which actually felt quite good after running those stupid hills the day before. I completed the 1.25 mile lap in 10 minutes which is at a much quicker pace than usual (albeit not "quick.")
Class consisted mostly of various balls and those damn glide discs this week, and after a short 55-minute workout I am now aware of muscles in my ass and inner thighs that I had no idea existed. All the while I had the pleasure of listening to some modern dance-mix CD that remade U2 and Tom Petty songs - so in retrospect I guess the glide discs were not the most painful part of the class after all.
Today is technically supposed to be an off day, but I plan on going to the gym to work on arms and abs. I am already trying to mentally prepare for the 6 miles I have to run tomorrow, which will quite possibly be the farthest single run of my life to date. I am also going to try to incorporate carrying water with me for the first time with this run, of course this is in addition to the 20 pounds of fat between my belly-button and knees that I am already lugging around with me.
Class consisted mostly of various balls and those damn glide discs this week, and after a short 55-minute workout I am now aware of muscles in my ass and inner thighs that I had no idea existed. All the while I had the pleasure of listening to some modern dance-mix CD that remade U2 and Tom Petty songs - so in retrospect I guess the glide discs were not the most painful part of the class after all.
Today is technically supposed to be an off day, but I plan on going to the gym to work on arms and abs. I am already trying to mentally prepare for the 6 miles I have to run tomorrow, which will quite possibly be the farthest single run of my life to date. I am also going to try to incorporate carrying water with me for the first time with this run, of course this is in addition to the 20 pounds of fat between my belly-button and knees that I am already lugging around with me.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Hills
Throughout the day today I recall thinking to myself, "oooh, today is the easy day, yessss." I thought this because the plan was to run hill repeats for 40 minutes. Easy enough right? Short bursts of hard running, breaks in between. I was looking forward to a change in the normal routine of miles of continuous running. That was a mistake.
It all started off easily enough, a 10-minute leisurely walk to what I will forever remember as "the hill." It looks petite and really quite non-intimidating as you drive by, it sits just behind a goal, nestled between a soccer field and two rows of townhouses. Who would have guessed it to be the actual inner circle of hell?
Before we began the plan was to run 25 - all the way to the top and back down the other side counted as one. After 6 I begged and breathlessly pleaded to reduce the number to 20, which the devil disguised as my "friend" and "trainer" graciously agreed to. I thought I was going to puke the entire time, and for the next 20 minutes after. I had to stop after every 2 to catch my breath and prevent cardiac arrest. I don't really like to touch grass, and I laid in it, twice. Well, kind of, the second time it was more of a collapse.
Oh, and, the worst part is that it is a realistic possibility that my right leg will need to be amputated from the knee down due to the fact that apparently those were the only muscles I used during this entire demonic routine.
It all started off easily enough, a 10-minute leisurely walk to what I will forever remember as "the hill." It looks petite and really quite non-intimidating as you drive by, it sits just behind a goal, nestled between a soccer field and two rows of townhouses. Who would have guessed it to be the actual inner circle of hell?
Before we began the plan was to run 25 - all the way to the top and back down the other side counted as one. After 6 I begged and breathlessly pleaded to reduce the number to 20, which the devil disguised as my "friend" and "trainer" graciously agreed to. I thought I was going to puke the entire time, and for the next 20 minutes after. I had to stop after every 2 to catch my breath and prevent cardiac arrest. I don't really like to touch grass, and I laid in it, twice. Well, kind of, the second time it was more of a collapse.
Oh, and, the worst part is that it is a realistic possibility that my right leg will need to be amputated from the knee down due to the fact that apparently those were the only muscles I used during this entire demonic routine.
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