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.
Showing posts with label LLS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label LLS. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Getting Serious
For the Easter holiday in the Spring of 2009 I went to visit my grandparents in Pennsylvania, along with my mother and my kids. As I was changing clothes one morning my mother walked in, looked me up and down as I was nearly or completely nude, and at length commented "Well, you finally have a figure." As she said this, she simultaneously illustrated her point with some hand motion which distinctly went outward at what I must assume was supposed to represent my depression stage ass.
I was back in the gym the day after we returned.
A friend from work, a runner (with whom I indiscriminately shared my black toe story) suggested that I go to a specialty running store to get the right shoes. OK, first of all, who the hell knew that there were specialty stores for running? Obviously, as we all now know, not me. However, I was willing to do anything to avoid another 5 pedicureless months, and I went to the store. Potomac River Running. They are awesome. As I sit here sore as hell today, the only damn thing that doesn't hurt is my feet. They measure your feet, they analyze how you walk and how you run using a treadmill and some special video camera set up, they have you stand on this thing to see how your weight settles on your feet. They do it all over again with various shoes selected for your feet. Then they find you the perfect pair of shoes. I am forever in their debt. No, I do not own stock in their store, don't get discounts, and do not even know anyone that works there. I don't know anything, actually, which you may have concluded by now.
This same friend knew I wanted to run the marathon, which she had completed previously, and told me about this group she runs with, Team in Training. TNT (no, not TIT, fortunately) is a fundraising organization for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS). Basically, they train you to complete an endurance event, and you fund raise a minimum amount of money for them to provide services to patients suffering from leukemia or lymphoma (many of which are children). For me this provides an opportunity of the best nature - I get support to accomplish a major life goal, and at the same time will contribute to the assistance of people suffering from these blood cancers.
After I got my fundraising website up (which TNT basically does for you) my first donation came in, $500 from the same friend's parents, her dad is a survivor. They donate to the LLS every year, usually through their daughter's races, but my friend is not running in a fall event and so they donated to me instead. My fundraising minimum is $1800, but it would be great to exceed that amount. To date I am halfway there.
Now that all the pieces were in place it was time to get serious. Unfortunately, I could not even make it around the lake once without having to stop and walk...the lake is only 1.25 miles...the race is 26.2 miles.
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