Remember when I said I suck at lots of things? Like remembering birthdays and being a friend? Well I don't think I forgot a birthday, but I DID forget a very important person in this new found running group who also happens to read this blog. Oh, Suttan, I'm sorry! Suttan began running with us too and is now dealing with a frustrating injury also. Don't know how I forgot her when right now, she understands what this is like and what she is being stripped of. Here is the lesson: Healthy runners, don't forget the ones on the injured list. Our bodies may not be able to join you, but our hearts and minds are... and they do.
Suttan, here's to speedy healing and a healthy and kick ass New Year for us both!
PS... hard to feel sorry for you when you are living it up in Vegas, but I'll try.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Out will the old.... you know the rest of the saying.
This isn't what I feel like doing this morning, but I feel like I should. This is the LAST DAY of 2010 and since I'm approaching 2011 with the hopes of some running victories, I should bid 2010 a proper goodbye.
Deb sent me an entry in her professional blog yesterday. The way she words things is so perfect in relation to the way she's feeling. I read it and thought "Man, why can't I write like that?" She talked about New Years being a time of new beginnings, resolutions and a chance to hit the "re-set" button. I absorbed what she had written and began to reflect a bit on the past year and look toward what is coming.
I know I said a couple of entries ago that there would be no looking back at the marathon mishaps of 2010. However, I don't think I can grow as a runner UNLESS I look back. I have over and over again thought about how unfair it is that I did not meet my goal or "resolution" of 2010. I have chosen to expose myself, and I now find myself regretting it a bit. Mostly because if you look at my entries as a whole, I believe they collectively resemble a game of ping pong.... "hey I'm running! Oh wait, hey, I'm injured. No wait a minute, I'm running. Ok, well, now I'm injured." I suppose now people wait for these predictable entries. I don't regret blogging. It is here for me and it helps me, but people are reading. How do I know this? Well, people don't comment on the blogging site, but I get a lot of e-mails. There is also a place to view stats and to date, this blog has received 1,839 views since my first entry less than 2 months ago. It does not count my own views from my computer. It also tells the audience by country and I have had views from most countries. It's very cool to see but before you get too impressed, the reason for this is that I frequent the Runner's World blogging forum (I love to read other runner's blogs... I seem so... NORMAL in that world). One runner was asking for runners to post their personal blog sites for him to read, so like many others, I posted mine. So now anyone that goes to the blogging forum can access and read blogs that the runner's have posted and since Runner's World magazine and website are worldwide, well EVERYONE can access. Ok, so now the number 1,839 doesn't seem like a lot, but I suppose it isn't too shabby for a non famous ordinary runner from Harrison, Ohio that is keeping a personal public running diary. And somewhere in Israel, there is a follower(s) because with the United States having the most views and Canada second, Israel has had 44. I'm guessing it's the same person, who either can relate, or is getting quite a kick out of the crazy bitch that is portrayed. Either way he/she sees it, I'm cool with it.
So now my thoughts on 2010. Well this has been a bittersweet year for me. If I pick out the difficult and negative things, it looks like a year of nothing but setbacks, failures and annoyances. I suppose this is how many people reflect on a year when a goal was not reached. But if I look a little further, I see so many wonderful things that have come out of this year. In January, I began joining the Westside group on their hill run. I met some great people who have helped shape my running. In April, I went to Boston with Sarah and although I did not run, being there solidified and renewed my resolve to get there. Sarah got there the good old fashioned way... blood, sweat and tears and lots of time in between and then she executed that marathon with incredible strength and speed. On that same day, many miles away, my sister delivered a beautiful baby boy, of whom I was asked to be the Godmother. I can honestly say that April 19th was the best day of this year. In June, Sarah and I did the Morgan's triathlon and cinched 1st place in our division. In July, my family took a wonderful vacation that my kids call "their favorite ever" and I got to meet my Godson and see my precious nieces. In August, my kids went back to school (yeah, that's always a good day for this mama... I love 'em, but....). In September, I went to Columbus with my friend, Kim the day after I ran my first 20 miler. We ran a 5k in memory of her friend's sister, who had died of ovarian cancer. My legs were sore and heavy and I had little expectations for this race and therefore, chose not to get a timing chip. When the race began, Kim was out of the gate at sub 7 minute miles. Alrighty then, Kim. Let's see what you want to do with this. Well I think Kim was after a fast race. A PR, if you will. So I ran with her, talked to her the whole way, gave her tips on stride and breathing and hanging tough. She listened and finished in 23:57... her best time. So I got a little look at my own ability to push and encourage others and then thought "I ran 20 tough miles yesterday in the heat and I talked to Kim the entire way today so she could get a PR." That was a good feeling. Again, when I run for others I believe I run my best. I also went to my 20th high school reunion in September and reconnected with Molly. Molly is the reason I will register for and run the Chicago Marathon next October. In October, well, we can maybe just leave this month alone. The first half was filled with nervousness and the second half, heartbreak. One bad month in twelve ain't too bad. Although when I think about it, John moved his office in October and got settled into a new, more convenient updated space. The move was very scary for him, but the transition went smoothly and things are going well. In November there was the HRC's Thanksgiving Day run, which brought many members in the rain who made food donations to our Harrison food pantry. And now, sweet December is wrapping up. I am spending Christmas with my family today. Three years ago on Christmas Eve, we questioned whether my dad pull through quintuple bypass. Three years later we are blessed that he will be spending more Christmases with us.
In the course of this year, I have also found a group of friends in Harrison to run with. I enjoy their company so much and get a thrill from watching the growth and improvement that is happening in us all. This includes Jen, Tammy, Kim, Greg and Sarah. Sarah has shifted her goals, but I am so happy that she continues to join this group (ok, LEAD this group) on some of the runs. She serves as an inspiration to us all (and spells trouble for me when I run with her fresh from the injured list.... but it's worth it). Great things are ahead for all these athletes in 2011.
I will begin 2011 with a funeral in New Jersey for my Uncle Marshall who died two nights ago. My uncle had brain cancer, which we knew, but his spiraling so quickly the week of Christmas was unexpected. I spent many Christmases and Thanksgivings with my aunt and uncle and their two children when they lived in Indianapolis. When they moved, it was only for big family events that I saw them and my aunt was always the same. I know exactly what will happen when I see her. She too, is quite predictable. She will take my face in her hands and say with absolute sincerity "Oh my God, Kate. Look at you. You are so beautiful. Oh my, come here and let me hug you." I know this because she's done it every time I've seen her since I can remember, which is about nine years old. I will feel like I'm nine again. I just know it. It won't matter that she is in the depths of despair over the loss of her husband. For that moment, she will put her grief aside and take some time to make me feel good. It is who she is and for that reason, I would never miss my uncle's funeral. I will also let that serve as a lesson for me as I enter the next year injured and unable to run. I will put aside the negativity and frustration I feel and take what I've learned to help whoever asks.
So I'll end thanking God for the many blessings of 2010. Some of them, definitely in disguise, but they are there. I hope that as anyone reading reflects on the past year, they can pick out the good things that have happened. Look around, open your eyes, quiet your mind and they will become clear.
Happy New Year!
Deb sent me an entry in her professional blog yesterday. The way she words things is so perfect in relation to the way she's feeling. I read it and thought "Man, why can't I write like that?" She talked about New Years being a time of new beginnings, resolutions and a chance to hit the "re-set" button. I absorbed what she had written and began to reflect a bit on the past year and look toward what is coming.
I know I said a couple of entries ago that there would be no looking back at the marathon mishaps of 2010. However, I don't think I can grow as a runner UNLESS I look back. I have over and over again thought about how unfair it is that I did not meet my goal or "resolution" of 2010. I have chosen to expose myself, and I now find myself regretting it a bit. Mostly because if you look at my entries as a whole, I believe they collectively resemble a game of ping pong.... "hey I'm running! Oh wait, hey, I'm injured. No wait a minute, I'm running. Ok, well, now I'm injured." I suppose now people wait for these predictable entries. I don't regret blogging. It is here for me and it helps me, but people are reading. How do I know this? Well, people don't comment on the blogging site, but I get a lot of e-mails. There is also a place to view stats and to date, this blog has received 1,839 views since my first entry less than 2 months ago. It does not count my own views from my computer. It also tells the audience by country and I have had views from most countries. It's very cool to see but before you get too impressed, the reason for this is that I frequent the Runner's World blogging forum (I love to read other runner's blogs... I seem so... NORMAL in that world). One runner was asking for runners to post their personal blog sites for him to read, so like many others, I posted mine. So now anyone that goes to the blogging forum can access and read blogs that the runner's have posted and since Runner's World magazine and website are worldwide, well EVERYONE can access. Ok, so now the number 1,839 doesn't seem like a lot, but I suppose it isn't too shabby for a non famous ordinary runner from Harrison, Ohio that is keeping a personal public running diary. And somewhere in Israel, there is a follower(s) because with the United States having the most views and Canada second, Israel has had 44. I'm guessing it's the same person, who either can relate, or is getting quite a kick out of the crazy bitch that is portrayed. Either way he/she sees it, I'm cool with it.
So now my thoughts on 2010. Well this has been a bittersweet year for me. If I pick out the difficult and negative things, it looks like a year of nothing but setbacks, failures and annoyances. I suppose this is how many people reflect on a year when a goal was not reached. But if I look a little further, I see so many wonderful things that have come out of this year. In January, I began joining the Westside group on their hill run. I met some great people who have helped shape my running. In April, I went to Boston with Sarah and although I did not run, being there solidified and renewed my resolve to get there. Sarah got there the good old fashioned way... blood, sweat and tears and lots of time in between and then she executed that marathon with incredible strength and speed. On that same day, many miles away, my sister delivered a beautiful baby boy, of whom I was asked to be the Godmother. I can honestly say that April 19th was the best day of this year. In June, Sarah and I did the Morgan's triathlon and cinched 1st place in our division. In July, my family took a wonderful vacation that my kids call "their favorite ever" and I got to meet my Godson and see my precious nieces. In August, my kids went back to school (yeah, that's always a good day for this mama... I love 'em, but....). In September, I went to Columbus with my friend, Kim the day after I ran my first 20 miler. We ran a 5k in memory of her friend's sister, who had died of ovarian cancer. My legs were sore and heavy and I had little expectations for this race and therefore, chose not to get a timing chip. When the race began, Kim was out of the gate at sub 7 minute miles. Alrighty then, Kim. Let's see what you want to do with this. Well I think Kim was after a fast race. A PR, if you will. So I ran with her, talked to her the whole way, gave her tips on stride and breathing and hanging tough. She listened and finished in 23:57... her best time. So I got a little look at my own ability to push and encourage others and then thought "I ran 20 tough miles yesterday in the heat and I talked to Kim the entire way today so she could get a PR." That was a good feeling. Again, when I run for others I believe I run my best. I also went to my 20th high school reunion in September and reconnected with Molly. Molly is the reason I will register for and run the Chicago Marathon next October. In October, well, we can maybe just leave this month alone. The first half was filled with nervousness and the second half, heartbreak. One bad month in twelve ain't too bad. Although when I think about it, John moved his office in October and got settled into a new, more convenient updated space. The move was very scary for him, but the transition went smoothly and things are going well. In November there was the HRC's Thanksgiving Day run, which brought many members in the rain who made food donations to our Harrison food pantry. And now, sweet December is wrapping up. I am spending Christmas with my family today. Three years ago on Christmas Eve, we questioned whether my dad pull through quintuple bypass. Three years later we are blessed that he will be spending more Christmases with us.
In the course of this year, I have also found a group of friends in Harrison to run with. I enjoy their company so much and get a thrill from watching the growth and improvement that is happening in us all. This includes Jen, Tammy, Kim, Greg and Sarah. Sarah has shifted her goals, but I am so happy that she continues to join this group (ok, LEAD this group) on some of the runs. She serves as an inspiration to us all (and spells trouble for me when I run with her fresh from the injured list.... but it's worth it). Great things are ahead for all these athletes in 2011.
I will begin 2011 with a funeral in New Jersey for my Uncle Marshall who died two nights ago. My uncle had brain cancer, which we knew, but his spiraling so quickly the week of Christmas was unexpected. I spent many Christmases and Thanksgivings with my aunt and uncle and their two children when they lived in Indianapolis. When they moved, it was only for big family events that I saw them and my aunt was always the same. I know exactly what will happen when I see her. She too, is quite predictable. She will take my face in her hands and say with absolute sincerity "Oh my God, Kate. Look at you. You are so beautiful. Oh my, come here and let me hug you." I know this because she's done it every time I've seen her since I can remember, which is about nine years old. I will feel like I'm nine again. I just know it. It won't matter that she is in the depths of despair over the loss of her husband. For that moment, she will put her grief aside and take some time to make me feel good. It is who she is and for that reason, I would never miss my uncle's funeral. I will also let that serve as a lesson for me as I enter the next year injured and unable to run. I will put aside the negativity and frustration I feel and take what I've learned to help whoever asks.
So I'll end thanking God for the many blessings of 2010. Some of them, definitely in disguise, but they are there. I hope that as anyone reading reflects on the past year, they can pick out the good things that have happened. Look around, open your eyes, quiet your mind and they will become clear.
Happy New Year!
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
So now what?
It's going to be one of those days. My computer is slow, my coffee is not as hot as it normally is, the towels I put in the dryer last night needed about 15 more minutes and now need to be rewashed, I'm sure to spend the day arguing with a grounded 12 year old (why do we ground our kids? It is the ultimate parent punishment) and my sister, who is supposed to be flying in from Houston for our family Christmas, is not coming due to a sick child. Oh yes, and did I mention that I won't be doing my Wednesday run this morning?
BINGO. There is the reason that the world around me seems to be going south (side note... I have to say that if these are the worst of my problems, I've got it pretty good. And they are. And I do. And now that I've acknowledged that, I'm allowed to throw a tantrum in my blog). Contrary to the way I may come across here, I do know how to keep things in perspective. I also realize that I can look at things completely differently based on my mood, which is currently dictated by my frustrating injury... THAT YES, I KEEP RUNNING ON, OK? (Do you I think I'm a bit paranoid about what thoughts people are having with each sentence I write?) I imagine if I had gone out this morning and had a kick-ass, fast paced, fabulous run with my friends, this entry would go something like this... "Yay, my slow computer is allowing me a couple of minutes to put clean laundry away while I wait. Starbucks really should market luke warm coffee because this stuff is GOOOOD. Thank goodness the whole load of towels needs to be rewashed because I forgot one and now I don't have to feel bad about wasting water. Can't wait to spend quality time with that 12 year old of mine... it's been a long time. Maybe we can play a super long game of Monopoly and have some bonding time. And too bad Mag can't come, but at least I don't have to rush to the grocery store today." I can almost guarantee that at least part of that is true. I think we all do it. When our moods are lifted, life is never "that bad". When we are grumpy, everything downright sucks. And I'm here to tell you that today, everything downright sucks.
For the first time in a couple of years, I find myself without a training goal. Even in between training cycles, I've always known what is next. I do not know what is next right now. My immediate goal is to have this calf heal. I don't even know what the hell is wrong with it anymore. I think the stress fracture has healed and that there are other things awry in there. It's a different feeling. More aching and soreness, than the sharp bolt of the fracture. The muscle is sore. I have no clue. Just try to google "calf running injuries" and see what comes up. There is achilles tendonitis, calf muscle strains and tears, stress fractures, micro muscle tears and many, many others. I feel like I'm chasing my tail trying to figure out how to expedite healing.... the never ending cycle of icing, massaging and medicating continues. But deep down in my stubborn, bull-headed brain, a voice screams... "IT WILL GET BETTER IF YOU JUST GIVE IT TIME." Screw you, brain. I know that. But when my qualifying marathon training has started, I don't have time to let you heal and do what is necessary, ok? You need to respond the way I am asking you to with all these interventions I'm doing and allow me to train with a terrific group of goal-oriented, motivated and committed runners. Sure, no problem, Kate.
Man how I wished it worked that way.
The more out of control the situation, the more I try to control. Just ask Sarah, who received quite a few e-mails from me yesterday coaxing her to sign up for the Chicago Marathon (FYI... registration opens next week I think and this one fills quickly). I then gave her a laid out plan of which marathons we'd be doing in the next couple of years and in what order. It made me feel better momentarily to make myself believe that this would all unfold the way I want it too. Maybe it will, but maybe it won't. Boston sure didn't for me. Life can be funny about the turns it takes.
My friends Jen and Tammy are beginning their training for the Flying Pig. This will be Tammy's first full marathon and Jen is after a BQ. We were going to be doing much of our training together. Pushing each other along and providing the much needed comraderie and support that such a huge task requires. Jen, no doubt, will get what she is after. This sparks a whole new gamut of feelings for me. And I have told her this. Jen has come a long way in a short time. She is a terrific runner and will continue to get better. She is committed to reaching her goal AND has the confidence necessary to achieve it. Being someone that truly loves to see someone fall in love with running, work their ass off and reap the rewards, I love watching what is happening to Jen. However, watching her get what she is after on her first attempt will be a little hard for me. Not because of jealousy (ok, maybe a little), but more the feeling of "by now this should be so EASY for me. I should be getting BQ's in my sleep with every marathon given all the hours, weeks, months and years I've put into training and based on the way I run just for the hell of it. With all this training, my goal SHOULD by now be running a sub 3:30 marathon." That is why it will be hard. Also, I've envisioned the finish line with a qualifying time over and over and at times, I swear, I could just feel what it would be like. Jen will actually experience that feeling in May. I told Jen that I do want her to succeed at the Pig this May. She has already won half the battle and that is because she KNOWS she can do it. I told her this is something that took me three marathons to get. And that mind-altering attitude is what certainly allowed me to finish in Columbus (although I told Sarah that these days I'm wondering if pushing through all that for a non-qualifying time was worth the shit it has caused with this calf).
So now perhaps my job has become to see to it that she is successful. I certainly have a lot of knowledge on what workouts are necessary for speed. Maybe this is the "now what?" answer. Jen hates track work, but I think it's a must (or speed work in general) I told her that even if I'm not running, I'll meet her at the track, time her repeats for her if she wants. I'll meet her on top of Marvin road or Sandusky for the life sucking hill repeats and encourage her to push herself hard up those hills.... and run them with her when I can (yep, that's called double dipping). And although I've yet to reach my BQ goal, I think I can provide Jen some insight into what is needed to achieve it. After all, John says that some of the best coaches in the world have never played the game.
No pressure, Jen, but now you HAVE to do it.
BINGO. There is the reason that the world around me seems to be going south (side note... I have to say that if these are the worst of my problems, I've got it pretty good. And they are. And I do. And now that I've acknowledged that, I'm allowed to throw a tantrum in my blog). Contrary to the way I may come across here, I do know how to keep things in perspective. I also realize that I can look at things completely differently based on my mood, which is currently dictated by my frustrating injury... THAT YES, I KEEP RUNNING ON, OK? (Do you I think I'm a bit paranoid about what thoughts people are having with each sentence I write?) I imagine if I had gone out this morning and had a kick-ass, fast paced, fabulous run with my friends, this entry would go something like this... "Yay, my slow computer is allowing me a couple of minutes to put clean laundry away while I wait. Starbucks really should market luke warm coffee because this stuff is GOOOOD. Thank goodness the whole load of towels needs to be rewashed because I forgot one and now I don't have to feel bad about wasting water. Can't wait to spend quality time with that 12 year old of mine... it's been a long time. Maybe we can play a super long game of Monopoly and have some bonding time. And too bad Mag can't come, but at least I don't have to rush to the grocery store today." I can almost guarantee that at least part of that is true. I think we all do it. When our moods are lifted, life is never "that bad". When we are grumpy, everything downright sucks. And I'm here to tell you that today, everything downright sucks.
For the first time in a couple of years, I find myself without a training goal. Even in between training cycles, I've always known what is next. I do not know what is next right now. My immediate goal is to have this calf heal. I don't even know what the hell is wrong with it anymore. I think the stress fracture has healed and that there are other things awry in there. It's a different feeling. More aching and soreness, than the sharp bolt of the fracture. The muscle is sore. I have no clue. Just try to google "calf running injuries" and see what comes up. There is achilles tendonitis, calf muscle strains and tears, stress fractures, micro muscle tears and many, many others. I feel like I'm chasing my tail trying to figure out how to expedite healing.... the never ending cycle of icing, massaging and medicating continues. But deep down in my stubborn, bull-headed brain, a voice screams... "IT WILL GET BETTER IF YOU JUST GIVE IT TIME." Screw you, brain. I know that. But when my qualifying marathon training has started, I don't have time to let you heal and do what is necessary, ok? You need to respond the way I am asking you to with all these interventions I'm doing and allow me to train with a terrific group of goal-oriented, motivated and committed runners. Sure, no problem, Kate.
Man how I wished it worked that way.
The more out of control the situation, the more I try to control. Just ask Sarah, who received quite a few e-mails from me yesterday coaxing her to sign up for the Chicago Marathon (FYI... registration opens next week I think and this one fills quickly). I then gave her a laid out plan of which marathons we'd be doing in the next couple of years and in what order. It made me feel better momentarily to make myself believe that this would all unfold the way I want it too. Maybe it will, but maybe it won't. Boston sure didn't for me. Life can be funny about the turns it takes.
My friends Jen and Tammy are beginning their training for the Flying Pig. This will be Tammy's first full marathon and Jen is after a BQ. We were going to be doing much of our training together. Pushing each other along and providing the much needed comraderie and support that such a huge task requires. Jen, no doubt, will get what she is after. This sparks a whole new gamut of feelings for me. And I have told her this. Jen has come a long way in a short time. She is a terrific runner and will continue to get better. She is committed to reaching her goal AND has the confidence necessary to achieve it. Being someone that truly loves to see someone fall in love with running, work their ass off and reap the rewards, I love watching what is happening to Jen. However, watching her get what she is after on her first attempt will be a little hard for me. Not because of jealousy (ok, maybe a little), but more the feeling of "by now this should be so EASY for me. I should be getting BQ's in my sleep with every marathon given all the hours, weeks, months and years I've put into training and based on the way I run just for the hell of it. With all this training, my goal SHOULD by now be running a sub 3:30 marathon." That is why it will be hard. Also, I've envisioned the finish line with a qualifying time over and over and at times, I swear, I could just feel what it would be like. Jen will actually experience that feeling in May. I told Jen that I do want her to succeed at the Pig this May. She has already won half the battle and that is because she KNOWS she can do it. I told her this is something that took me three marathons to get. And that mind-altering attitude is what certainly allowed me to finish in Columbus (although I told Sarah that these days I'm wondering if pushing through all that for a non-qualifying time was worth the shit it has caused with this calf).
So now perhaps my job has become to see to it that she is successful. I certainly have a lot of knowledge on what workouts are necessary for speed. Maybe this is the "now what?" answer. Jen hates track work, but I think it's a must (or speed work in general) I told her that even if I'm not running, I'll meet her at the track, time her repeats for her if she wants. I'll meet her on top of Marvin road or Sandusky for the life sucking hill repeats and encourage her to push herself hard up those hills.... and run them with her when I can (yep, that's called double dipping). And although I've yet to reach my BQ goal, I think I can provide Jen some insight into what is needed to achieve it. After all, John says that some of the best coaches in the world have never played the game.
No pressure, Jen, but now you HAVE to do it.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Taking more time off for bad behavior.
Right now I'm wondering how many people following this blog were waiting for a post like this. Sarah, for sure, must have known this would be coming since her e-mail this morning was a bit timely. I'm back to the land of the injured after doing too much, too fast and too soon. Not quite sure when I'll learn, but hopefully it is before my tibia actually has a complete fracture.
I had some wonderful, brisk, not speed sessions, but brisk runs last week with my friends. I got to be one of them for a bit. I felt great. Things did not hurt, I was running well and so I thought, "what could it hurt to test?" Sarah and I were running one day last week and she said "how does it feel? Should you be going this fast?" I, in my blissful running state, told her that I was feeling just fine.... and I meant it. On Thursday, I went to her strength/cardio class, which I had been doing low impact. I decided that since I was "healed" I would start doing the cardio segments high impact again. After all, the floor is a softer floor and I had been doing fine on pavement so this would be fine. Funny thing is, at one point, our instructor (that would be Sarah) said "perhaps if you've recently had a stress fracture you should not be doing this." I laughed, but took her advice and did the remainder of that exercise low impact.
Later that day, as I was rushing around, getting stuff ready for Christmas, I noticed my calf felt kind of stiff and sore. It was very familiar and I immediately took some ibuprofen and stretched things out. I pushed aside my panic and ignored it. The next morning when we met at the park for our Christmas Eve run, I was sore as soon as John and I started running and this was at what I would consider an easy pace. Right then, I knew I had overdone it.. AGAIN! I finished up my run, saying nothing to anyone. The next time I ran was Sunday (yesterday) when I convinced Will to come out with me for an easy run since it was flurrying and so pretty. He begrudgingly agreed and as we headed up the street at Will's pace (easy), I felt very sore. And yes, I again ran this morning. My five mile flat route and yes, I ran too fast at the end. Maybe it was because I knew it would be my last run for awhile.
I have been wracking my brain for a reason for all this carelessness. And I have finally have to come to terms with this... I am taking Boston off the table for the spring. I will not be attempting to train for a BQ during any marathon this spring. This is the last thing I want to do, but it is that "carrot" that keeps me pushing myself to get back out there and train hard. My immediate goal is complete recovery and it isn't ever going to occur if I've got Boston on my brain. It just won't. This is perhaps the hardest thing for me to do at this point in my life because I am physically conditioned and capable of getting this done but am unable to execute my plan because of this injury. So it's off the table. Don't bother with the on-line tracking. Your ass is sure to get sore from sitting there so long waiting for me to finish the Flying Pig.... if I am even able to do the entire Pig. We will see. Perhaps Chicago will have to be the golden ticket.
Alright, enough of this. I'm going shopping and see if that doesn't help lift my spirits!
I had some wonderful, brisk, not speed sessions, but brisk runs last week with my friends. I got to be one of them for a bit. I felt great. Things did not hurt, I was running well and so I thought, "what could it hurt to test?" Sarah and I were running one day last week and she said "how does it feel? Should you be going this fast?" I, in my blissful running state, told her that I was feeling just fine.... and I meant it. On Thursday, I went to her strength/cardio class, which I had been doing low impact. I decided that since I was "healed" I would start doing the cardio segments high impact again. After all, the floor is a softer floor and I had been doing fine on pavement so this would be fine. Funny thing is, at one point, our instructor (that would be Sarah) said "perhaps if you've recently had a stress fracture you should not be doing this." I laughed, but took her advice and did the remainder of that exercise low impact.
Later that day, as I was rushing around, getting stuff ready for Christmas, I noticed my calf felt kind of stiff and sore. It was very familiar and I immediately took some ibuprofen and stretched things out. I pushed aside my panic and ignored it. The next morning when we met at the park for our Christmas Eve run, I was sore as soon as John and I started running and this was at what I would consider an easy pace. Right then, I knew I had overdone it.. AGAIN! I finished up my run, saying nothing to anyone. The next time I ran was Sunday (yesterday) when I convinced Will to come out with me for an easy run since it was flurrying and so pretty. He begrudgingly agreed and as we headed up the street at Will's pace (easy), I felt very sore. And yes, I again ran this morning. My five mile flat route and yes, I ran too fast at the end. Maybe it was because I knew it would be my last run for awhile.
I have been wracking my brain for a reason for all this carelessness. And I have finally have to come to terms with this... I am taking Boston off the table for the spring. I will not be attempting to train for a BQ during any marathon this spring. This is the last thing I want to do, but it is that "carrot" that keeps me pushing myself to get back out there and train hard. My immediate goal is complete recovery and it isn't ever going to occur if I've got Boston on my brain. It just won't. This is perhaps the hardest thing for me to do at this point in my life because I am physically conditioned and capable of getting this done but am unable to execute my plan because of this injury. So it's off the table. Don't bother with the on-line tracking. Your ass is sure to get sore from sitting there so long waiting for me to finish the Flying Pig.... if I am even able to do the entire Pig. We will see. Perhaps Chicago will have to be the golden ticket.
Alright, enough of this. I'm going shopping and see if that doesn't help lift my spirits!
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Pushing Ronda
Well, here we are. Just about to the end the stories of my marathon woes in my attempts at qualifying for Boston. I could write about Columbus, which was nine and a half weeks ago, but I have said all I have to say about that marathon. I recapped it on Facebook when I was supposed to be registering for BOS. I've recapped it a thousand times in my mind and verbally to those that have asked (I try not to purge to anyone who doesn't ask... except sometimes Sarah doesn't ask, but gets my venting anyway). Truth be told, blogging this experience was a godsend during some very tough moments. When negative thoughts and feelings are allowed out, healing is allowed to take place. It has happened and now there is no looking back or wishing for what ifs. I am headed into 2011 with a long list of things I'm hoping to accomplish... BQ being tops, but I'd also love a fabulous year of PRs in all kinds of races. I'd like to get my kids and husband more involved in the running world and have them enjoy it ("enjoy" being the key word there) I like to do some coaching and I'd love to motivate more people to get started and to keep at it. Find their inner (and outer I guess) strength and bring it alive. It exists in everyone, but we must dig it out, which brings me to the title of this blog.
I suck at lots of things. I really do. I procrastinate like the best of them. I forget birthdays. I don't call my parents enough and sometimes feel like when I do, it is to babysit (sorry mom, come for lunch and coffee any day). I can be a crappy friend, sister and neighbor... knowing I "should" reach out more, but often get too caught up in my rather normal life to do so. I don't mean to be this way. It certainly is not intentional. These are things I need to work on more.. and I will. I get angry way too easily and often regret my quick temper... again, I am always trying harder to be better. It's all anyone can do.
But I'm good at a few things too. And one of the things I believe I am good at is motivating people to run and work hard, although it often takes another person to get ME to work hard and push myself. Take for example, my friend Ronda. Ronda is a glass half empty kind of gal. You will never hear Ronda say she did something well or that she thinks she can do something. It's usually "There is no way......" from Ronda. Now that is not saying she is always negative. She isn't. She laughs a lot, she's funny, she's a deeply rooted girl who stands firm in what she believes is right and wrong... and she does not deviate from it. I respect and admire that trait. Ronda is a "say it like it is" kind of girl without apology. She has a very big heart and is a genuinely kind person. Ronda has been running for a couple of years now. She and our friend, Karen, who happens to be one of Ronda's closest friends, have been running together a couple of times a week for quite some time. But Ronda's definition of running and mine are a bit different. Ronda tells me one day that she and Karen ran the outer loop at the park. Well of course, I'm ecstatic! She then tells me "Well, we run/walk it." Well, that's ok too... it still counts. So weeks later, she tells me they have been running for 8 minutes and recovering or "walking" 12 minutes. Ok, NOW I'm finding this unacceptable. Ronda and Karen have been exercising for YEARS and are way more capable of running further than that. I tell her this needs to change and they need to start increasing their running and decreasing their recovery/walking time. They don't like this advice, but they take it. And they are happy. They sign up and run the Thanksgiving Day race together, both swearing they "could never make it" and of course they do, and they are happy.
Last week Ronda tells me she is going to run the Noel 5k at Lunken (which took place last Saturday). This is the race that Sarah is having her 5k training group run at the end of their nine week session (side note.. they all made it and they all did an incredibly awesome job). Many of the participants are mutual friends of ours and so I had decided to go and cheer them on. Ronda tells me she'd like it if I would "jog" it with her. She says she has never run 3 whole miles without taking a walk break and that we would be running very slowly. I have no agenda for this race so I say "sure!" She continues to tell me that this would be run at a 10 1/2 to 11 minute pace and that we will "just be jogging, Kate." "Ronda, that's fine. I'll do whatever. I'm not even registering so I don't care how I run it." Now let me just tell you I'm also really crappy at being true to my word when someone asks me to do something like this. Again, I don't mean to be, but instinct kicks in.
As promised, I go to the race with Ronda. With us are our friends Kim, Tammy and Jen... all three out to get 5k PRs (all of whom, I might add, won age group awards). We arrive and notice that a man is shoveling part of the course. Oh boy, that is going to change things a bit. We find out that when the course was cleared from our big snow, only part of what was cleared was the right part of the course. So now some guy was hand shoveling the path in which we were running.
The race begins and we are forced single file onto the path. I don't have my Garmin since Kim is using it but it feels right around where Ronda wants to be. Which is fine. For a little while. One thing I didn't say is that Ronda likes to talk... a lot. She talks fast, too. So she is talking fast and saying she's getting too hot and why did she wear her damn sweat jacket and I begin to get an idea. I think if Ronda were racing this, she would not be able to keep the words spilling as fast as they were. So I tell her to pass the people ahead of us. And we do. We have now done a mile and I'm certainly good and warmed up and downright as comfortable as I could be.... so I begin to pick it up slightly and tell her to stay with me. She starts saying she's tired and I say "No, you are ok." Now we are at the turnaround... the halfway mark. I finally tell her we are going to work a little bit. We continue at the same pace and she is still talking, but a little less now. Finally we have a mile left and I tell her that from this point on, no one passes us and we are only to pass people. She tells me she has a cramp and I tell her to work it out. I make her stay right behind me, telling her constantly we are "almost done". Finally I hear nothing but footsteps right behind me. Ronda is quiet and I know she is pushing herself. She stays right behind me every step of the way. I talk to her continuously and tell her it's ok if she wants to trip me. I don't care. I KNEW that she was capable of way more than she credited herself with. Most of us are.
We finally see orange cones... and the clock. The clock is reading 29 minutes and she has about a 10th of a mile left. She is tired and it is icy on this stretch. So I said "Ronda, you have got to keep running hard to make under 30 minutes... but be careful, it's icy." I don't know if Ronda gave a shit about her time at that point but hell, I did! She drives herself to the finish and runs her first official 5k and longest distance continuously in 29:54! Ronda's avg. pace is a 9:38. And she is happy!
Congrats, Ronda (and all of my friends who ran a terrific race Saturday). You are capable of far more than you think you are.
I suck at lots of things. I really do. I procrastinate like the best of them. I forget birthdays. I don't call my parents enough and sometimes feel like when I do, it is to babysit (sorry mom, come for lunch and coffee any day). I can be a crappy friend, sister and neighbor... knowing I "should" reach out more, but often get too caught up in my rather normal life to do so. I don't mean to be this way. It certainly is not intentional. These are things I need to work on more.. and I will. I get angry way too easily and often regret my quick temper... again, I am always trying harder to be better. It's all anyone can do.
But I'm good at a few things too. And one of the things I believe I am good at is motivating people to run and work hard, although it often takes another person to get ME to work hard and push myself. Take for example, my friend Ronda. Ronda is a glass half empty kind of gal. You will never hear Ronda say she did something well or that she thinks she can do something. It's usually "There is no way......" from Ronda. Now that is not saying she is always negative. She isn't. She laughs a lot, she's funny, she's a deeply rooted girl who stands firm in what she believes is right and wrong... and she does not deviate from it. I respect and admire that trait. Ronda is a "say it like it is" kind of girl without apology. She has a very big heart and is a genuinely kind person. Ronda has been running for a couple of years now. She and our friend, Karen, who happens to be one of Ronda's closest friends, have been running together a couple of times a week for quite some time. But Ronda's definition of running and mine are a bit different. Ronda tells me one day that she and Karen ran the outer loop at the park. Well of course, I'm ecstatic! She then tells me "Well, we run/walk it." Well, that's ok too... it still counts. So weeks later, she tells me they have been running for 8 minutes and recovering or "walking" 12 minutes. Ok, NOW I'm finding this unacceptable. Ronda and Karen have been exercising for YEARS and are way more capable of running further than that. I tell her this needs to change and they need to start increasing their running and decreasing their recovery/walking time. They don't like this advice, but they take it. And they are happy. They sign up and run the Thanksgiving Day race together, both swearing they "could never make it" and of course they do, and they are happy.
Last week Ronda tells me she is going to run the Noel 5k at Lunken (which took place last Saturday). This is the race that Sarah is having her 5k training group run at the end of their nine week session (side note.. they all made it and they all did an incredibly awesome job). Many of the participants are mutual friends of ours and so I had decided to go and cheer them on. Ronda tells me she'd like it if I would "jog" it with her. She says she has never run 3 whole miles without taking a walk break and that we would be running very slowly. I have no agenda for this race so I say "sure!" She continues to tell me that this would be run at a 10 1/2 to 11 minute pace and that we will "just be jogging, Kate." "Ronda, that's fine. I'll do whatever. I'm not even registering so I don't care how I run it." Now let me just tell you I'm also really crappy at being true to my word when someone asks me to do something like this. Again, I don't mean to be, but instinct kicks in.
As promised, I go to the race with Ronda. With us are our friends Kim, Tammy and Jen... all three out to get 5k PRs (all of whom, I might add, won age group awards). We arrive and notice that a man is shoveling part of the course. Oh boy, that is going to change things a bit. We find out that when the course was cleared from our big snow, only part of what was cleared was the right part of the course. So now some guy was hand shoveling the path in which we were running.
The race begins and we are forced single file onto the path. I don't have my Garmin since Kim is using it but it feels right around where Ronda wants to be. Which is fine. For a little while. One thing I didn't say is that Ronda likes to talk... a lot. She talks fast, too. So she is talking fast and saying she's getting too hot and why did she wear her damn sweat jacket and I begin to get an idea. I think if Ronda were racing this, she would not be able to keep the words spilling as fast as they were. So I tell her to pass the people ahead of us. And we do. We have now done a mile and I'm certainly good and warmed up and downright as comfortable as I could be.... so I begin to pick it up slightly and tell her to stay with me. She starts saying she's tired and I say "No, you are ok." Now we are at the turnaround... the halfway mark. I finally tell her we are going to work a little bit. We continue at the same pace and she is still talking, but a little less now. Finally we have a mile left and I tell her that from this point on, no one passes us and we are only to pass people. She tells me she has a cramp and I tell her to work it out. I make her stay right behind me, telling her constantly we are "almost done". Finally I hear nothing but footsteps right behind me. Ronda is quiet and I know she is pushing herself. She stays right behind me every step of the way. I talk to her continuously and tell her it's ok if she wants to trip me. I don't care. I KNEW that she was capable of way more than she credited herself with. Most of us are.
We finally see orange cones... and the clock. The clock is reading 29 minutes and she has about a 10th of a mile left. She is tired and it is icy on this stretch. So I said "Ronda, you have got to keep running hard to make under 30 minutes... but be careful, it's icy." I don't know if Ronda gave a shit about her time at that point but hell, I did! She drives herself to the finish and runs her first official 5k and longest distance continuously in 29:54! Ronda's avg. pace is a 9:38. And she is happy!
Congrats, Ronda (and all of my friends who ran a terrific race Saturday). You are capable of far more than you think you are.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Patience
Well the posts are fewer and farther between for a few reasons. For starters, I'm trying to sleep a little longer in the mornings. Instead of a 3:30-4:00 wake up time, I'm shooting for 4:30-5:00, giving me a little less time to sit at the computer. Secondly, as I've hinted, I'm running again. I am going slowly and cautiously, running only 3 days a week at a relatively easy pace. I am doing no hills and no speedwork and will keep away from those wonderful workouts until January. This is difficult. My leg feels good and my training "should" have started for May's marathon. What keeps me from panicking and the "I won't be ready!" freakouts are recalling on the summer when I had a few down weeks at the beginning of training for Columbus, yet I was physically ready for that race when the day arrived.
Training for Columbus began in mid June. John and I were away for our anniversary and I would have to do my first long run of training on the treadmill.... 10 miles... YUCK! I awoke that Sunday feeling fine. I ate breakfast and headed to the gym. John even agreed to run on a treadmill next to me, which was shocking since he "hated" running (not so much anymore). As I started running I noticed I just didn't feel well. I was out of breath very quickly and feeling very exhausted. It was strange because I was well rested and mentally prepared for my treadmill task. After 1mile, I knew I could not continue, so I called it quits. Sometimes it takes a little longer to warm up, but this was different and I knew I'd be lucky to get even another mile in. What I didn't know was that I was at the start of a persistent little virus that lingered for many weeks. Exhaustion and exercise intolerance were my worst symptoms. I'd had one day of fever and then none. I'd developed a sinus infection that took 3 antibiotics to clear (HINT... it was viral)... so the antibiotics were actually doing nothing.
During those weeks, my running suffered. On weekends when I was able to get in some mileage, I'd have to come home and sleep. I began to think that training for a BQ was virtually impossible and I may have to alter my goal to a "finish". I began to worry about something more serious and had more appointments, work-ups and tests done that I've had combined in a lifetime I believe. I had just never felt this wiped out for this long. My blood work indicated a "viral infection", which could have been anything and Lord knows it's hard to pinpoint which virus. I began to feel better in mid-July, but still not 100%. I was getting in some better and longer runs and not needing to nap in between. Occasionally I'd have a day where I felt wiped out again. Looking back, I think I tried to push my body during weeks when it really needed rest to recover, hence a longer recovery time. I'd even undergone a cardiac work-up that scared the HELL out of me, but thank God, came back normal. Chest pressure that turned out to be reflux was the reason for the cardiac work-up. Imagine the panic as I recalled the weeks of being exhausted followed by strange feelings of pressure in my chest. It was not a good week to say the least! But God is good, prayers were answered and all was well..... and so the REAL training began!
Once I was back to normal, my workouts were surprisingly good. I had still been running during the down weeks, but now I was feeling really good and my running had seemingly not suffered much at all. I had incorporated a once a week track workout, which I had never done with any other training. I learned to pace myself during a variety of speed workouts. My training plan called for 800s only, but for a couple of weeks, I experimented with mile repeats. With the track work, my confidence soared! It was here that I also developed a mentally tough attitude because track work is very daunting. It whips your ass.. to put it mildly. During one of my final track workouts, I ended up getting to 8 800s while keeping the pace consistent. This was the day I had NO DOUBTS that I would run Columbus well. Once I hit 4, I kept telling myself I'd do "just one more". Four later, I was no doubt done, but I was ecstatic when I stopped my watch and saw 3:29, which give or take a couple of seconds, had been my average for every one. I realized what I could still do when I "thought" I didn't have any gas left in the tank, which was at 4 800s.
The track workouts, combined with most of my long runs being run on a hilly course, provided me so much opportunity to grow mentally as a tough runner. It is amazing how much further or harder one can go than is believed. So many of my limits were self-imposed, as are many peoples. A couple of days before the marathon, my brother Jack, who had done a 100 mile footrace in July, sent me an e-mail that I'd like to share. He has no clue how much comfort his words brought during my final days of tapering, when I was freaking out:
Training for Columbus began in mid June. John and I were away for our anniversary and I would have to do my first long run of training on the treadmill.... 10 miles... YUCK! I awoke that Sunday feeling fine. I ate breakfast and headed to the gym. John even agreed to run on a treadmill next to me, which was shocking since he "hated" running (not so much anymore). As I started running I noticed I just didn't feel well. I was out of breath very quickly and feeling very exhausted. It was strange because I was well rested and mentally prepared for my treadmill task. After 1mile, I knew I could not continue, so I called it quits. Sometimes it takes a little longer to warm up, but this was different and I knew I'd be lucky to get even another mile in. What I didn't know was that I was at the start of a persistent little virus that lingered for many weeks. Exhaustion and exercise intolerance were my worst symptoms. I'd had one day of fever and then none. I'd developed a sinus infection that took 3 antibiotics to clear (HINT... it was viral)... so the antibiotics were actually doing nothing.
During those weeks, my running suffered. On weekends when I was able to get in some mileage, I'd have to come home and sleep. I began to think that training for a BQ was virtually impossible and I may have to alter my goal to a "finish". I began to worry about something more serious and had more appointments, work-ups and tests done that I've had combined in a lifetime I believe. I had just never felt this wiped out for this long. My blood work indicated a "viral infection", which could have been anything and Lord knows it's hard to pinpoint which virus. I began to feel better in mid-July, but still not 100%. I was getting in some better and longer runs and not needing to nap in between. Occasionally I'd have a day where I felt wiped out again. Looking back, I think I tried to push my body during weeks when it really needed rest to recover, hence a longer recovery time. I'd even undergone a cardiac work-up that scared the HELL out of me, but thank God, came back normal. Chest pressure that turned out to be reflux was the reason for the cardiac work-up. Imagine the panic as I recalled the weeks of being exhausted followed by strange feelings of pressure in my chest. It was not a good week to say the least! But God is good, prayers were answered and all was well..... and so the REAL training began!
Once I was back to normal, my workouts were surprisingly good. I had still been running during the down weeks, but now I was feeling really good and my running had seemingly not suffered much at all. I had incorporated a once a week track workout, which I had never done with any other training. I learned to pace myself during a variety of speed workouts. My training plan called for 800s only, but for a couple of weeks, I experimented with mile repeats. With the track work, my confidence soared! It was here that I also developed a mentally tough attitude because track work is very daunting. It whips your ass.. to put it mildly. During one of my final track workouts, I ended up getting to 8 800s while keeping the pace consistent. This was the day I had NO DOUBTS that I would run Columbus well. Once I hit 4, I kept telling myself I'd do "just one more". Four later, I was no doubt done, but I was ecstatic when I stopped my watch and saw 3:29, which give or take a couple of seconds, had been my average for every one. I realized what I could still do when I "thought" I didn't have any gas left in the tank, which was at 4 800s.
The track workouts, combined with most of my long runs being run on a hilly course, provided me so much opportunity to grow mentally as a tough runner. It is amazing how much further or harder one can go than is believed. So many of my limits were self-imposed, as are many peoples. A couple of days before the marathon, my brother Jack, who had done a 100 mile footrace in July, sent me an e-mail that I'd like to share. He has no clue how much comfort his words brought during my final days of tapering, when I was freaking out:
Kate,
You have done everything you needed to do and more in order to run 26.2 miles in less than 3:45. While you may feel that tapering is the worst time ever, look at it as bottling that energy for miles19-24. I guarantee you will feel little pain after mile 24 if you are still on time to reach your goal. At mile 25 you will feel no pain, none. Your legs will go light and you will coast in as fresh as you started. The only part you need to get through is mile 19-24. It really is easy, you just need to get your mind right. You need to run a 24 mile race, the last two miles will happen. Get to mile 24 at goal pace. Adrenalin will carry you home.
Before the 4 minute mile barrier was broken many thought the heart would explode after someone ran that fast for a mile. First, Roger Bannister broke the limit, less than a month later his record was broken. The record fell over and over again because people knew it was possible. 4 minutes turned out to be an artificial barrier.
There is no question in my mind you can physically run a 3:45. It would not surprise me if the marathon after you qualify you run close to 3:30 since you would have beaten the 3:45 monster. Right now 3:45 is an artificial barrier.
You will have doubts but you can not succumb. Have a plan to get through the tough miles. You can do this. Do not stop. Push from aid station to aid station. If that is too much, push to the next crack in the road, then the next, then the next until you are in a better place. Or you can run Mile 19 for John, 20 for Will, 21 Emma, 22 Jack and 23 for Lucy. This will get you to mile 24.
If you have a negative thought, replace it with a good one. Get to mile 24 no matter what. Think of it as a 24 mile race. The last two will take care of themselves.
Good Luck Sister. This time I am your “Virtual Crew”!
Still provides a good cry.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Spoil Sport.. Nutrition According to Me!
Let me begin with this disclaimer.... I am NOT a dietician. My only formal education on the topic of nutrition was in nursing school where I took a semester course on the subject. However, it is a topic of interest to me and I have learned quite a few things about myself when paying close attention to my diet. First of all, Michael Phelps I am not. Apparently his diet was loaded with all kinds of saturated fat, cholesterol and sodium, yet his performance remained unmatched. How I dream of genetics like that! I am also not a complete health nut... I have my vices, the main one being sugar. But I think I have found a balance and in the course of months of what I would consider a "good" diet followed by weeks of what I would consider a "bad" diet (at least where my performance is concerned), I have noticed some very definitive patterns.
When I'm tired, I eat like shit. When I eat like shit, well of course, I also feel like it too. When I feel bad, I cannot efficiently and happily do my normal daily activities, let alone, exercise well. I remember being fresh out of nursing school and working night shift. Night shift and I did not get along. I am, by nature, an early bird. I go to bed early and I get up early. It is just the way I'm wired (I commend those who have trained themselves to be this way... I know what a major sacrifice it is). I often wonder what kind of runner I would be if I were not a morning person. I don't think I'd fit 1/2 of the workouts in I would need to marathon train, so you non-morning people who are getting out there, YOU ARE AWESOME and you are much more dedicated that I. Really, it is not hard for me to be up and out the door. If you see me running at 10 pm to fit my workouts in, then you can shoot me a pat on the back e-mail. So it goes without saying, that night shift wreaked havoc on my body, as I believe it does to many. One of the things my co-workers and I would do to pass the time, was eat. And I'm not talking healthy salads, fruits and whole grains either. No, we'd bring in our griddles and make pancakes, sausage, eggs, biscuits and bacon. And not just every once in a while... a lot! The slower the time passed, the more we ate, whether to cure boredom or stay awake. Then we'd head home to sleep. I'd often rise at 1:30 p.m. with a pounding headache and zero motivation to do anything. I'd be tired and nauseated. It was a dreadful feeling really and I got used to feeling that way for 6 long months. I'd gained a little weight, maybe 5 lbs, which all things considered, was a miracle it wasn't much more. I was a newly wed with no kids and could head to the gym at any time of the day. I was dedicated to exercise, but mostly to control weight, rather than to draw enjoyment from it. Truth be told, I can't say I enjoyed it much back then because I was always felt so bad. But I am vain, and therefore, I continued to exercise daily.
Fast forward to a normal schedule with normal hours and a normal bedtime and wake time. Continue to fast forward to 4 kids, husband in school, full time working hours. My diet changed, but this time everything was "light" or "reduced fat" or "sugar-free". There was not a lick of fat to be found in my house for a few years. Fat was the enemy. Interestingly enough, I don't recall my exercise performance getting any better nor do I remember enjoying exercise any more than I did years earlier when I was a bit less like a food drill sargeant. This went on for many years. A couple of years ago I had a conversation with a chemist from the EPA. What he told me made a huge impact on some of the changes I've made in my diet, particularly when it comes to artificial sweeteners. Now let me just say, I won't even put it in here. My point is not to be preachy or scare the hell out of anyone and Lord knows there are a MILLION theories out there about what foods cause which disease and while I may be trying to avoid certain cancers, I may be increasing my risk of other things in the process, so you know, you just take information at face value these days.
Last winter I began to notice that when I viewed and consumed food as a fuel source that powered my body and less like this struggle I was always up against about what I should and should not be eating, I was truly performing better. I asked Sarah to help me form a nutrition plan for marathon training for the Pig, which I followed pretty religiously (and she did include wine as a "survival snack". Who couldn't love a dietician like that?). First thing I noticed is that my body required lots of calories because it was burning lots of calories. When I matched what was being burned, things were "in balance" and when I was making those calories foods that aided in performance, I was, well... performing better, feeling better, sleeping better. I wasn't really eating anything "light" or "reduced fat" or "sugar free" anymore either. My "bad fats" were in moderation (and yes, I did and do eat them), but they were the real deal. No fake butter for me. Paula Dean would be so proud! I no longer drink "diet" anything (this was a big change) I mostly drink water or Gatorade when I have a long exercise session or long run. Oh and I also drink coffee and yes, I do drink wine and beer moderately... for crying out loud I'm the mother of FOUR!
I followed basically the same diet over the summer that I did during the spring. Foods that were new or different in my house a long time ago, are now staples... brown rice, whole wheat pasta, olive oil and many others. My family has adjusted well and I might add, I have noticed positive changes in them as well. Since I haven't been running (Oh boy, but I am now! Post for later), my diet has been horrible. Christmas cookies for lunch? Yup, not just once in a while either. So now I'm running again. The goal is to stay healthy, be smart, stay injury free, perform like a machine and feel awesome while doing it. Is that too much to ask?
When I'm tired, I eat like shit. When I eat like shit, well of course, I also feel like it too. When I feel bad, I cannot efficiently and happily do my normal daily activities, let alone, exercise well. I remember being fresh out of nursing school and working night shift. Night shift and I did not get along. I am, by nature, an early bird. I go to bed early and I get up early. It is just the way I'm wired (I commend those who have trained themselves to be this way... I know what a major sacrifice it is). I often wonder what kind of runner I would be if I were not a morning person. I don't think I'd fit 1/2 of the workouts in I would need to marathon train, so you non-morning people who are getting out there, YOU ARE AWESOME and you are much more dedicated that I. Really, it is not hard for me to be up and out the door. If you see me running at 10 pm to fit my workouts in, then you can shoot me a pat on the back e-mail. So it goes without saying, that night shift wreaked havoc on my body, as I believe it does to many. One of the things my co-workers and I would do to pass the time, was eat. And I'm not talking healthy salads, fruits and whole grains either. No, we'd bring in our griddles and make pancakes, sausage, eggs, biscuits and bacon. And not just every once in a while... a lot! The slower the time passed, the more we ate, whether to cure boredom or stay awake. Then we'd head home to sleep. I'd often rise at 1:30 p.m. with a pounding headache and zero motivation to do anything. I'd be tired and nauseated. It was a dreadful feeling really and I got used to feeling that way for 6 long months. I'd gained a little weight, maybe 5 lbs, which all things considered, was a miracle it wasn't much more. I was a newly wed with no kids and could head to the gym at any time of the day. I was dedicated to exercise, but mostly to control weight, rather than to draw enjoyment from it. Truth be told, I can't say I enjoyed it much back then because I was always felt so bad. But I am vain, and therefore, I continued to exercise daily.
Fast forward to a normal schedule with normal hours and a normal bedtime and wake time. Continue to fast forward to 4 kids, husband in school, full time working hours. My diet changed, but this time everything was "light" or "reduced fat" or "sugar-free". There was not a lick of fat to be found in my house for a few years. Fat was the enemy. Interestingly enough, I don't recall my exercise performance getting any better nor do I remember enjoying exercise any more than I did years earlier when I was a bit less like a food drill sargeant. This went on for many years. A couple of years ago I had a conversation with a chemist from the EPA. What he told me made a huge impact on some of the changes I've made in my diet, particularly when it comes to artificial sweeteners. Now let me just say, I won't even put it in here. My point is not to be preachy or scare the hell out of anyone and Lord knows there are a MILLION theories out there about what foods cause which disease and while I may be trying to avoid certain cancers, I may be increasing my risk of other things in the process, so you know, you just take information at face value these days.
Last winter I began to notice that when I viewed and consumed food as a fuel source that powered my body and less like this struggle I was always up against about what I should and should not be eating, I was truly performing better. I asked Sarah to help me form a nutrition plan for marathon training for the Pig, which I followed pretty religiously (and she did include wine as a "survival snack". Who couldn't love a dietician like that?). First thing I noticed is that my body required lots of calories because it was burning lots of calories. When I matched what was being burned, things were "in balance" and when I was making those calories foods that aided in performance, I was, well... performing better, feeling better, sleeping better. I wasn't really eating anything "light" or "reduced fat" or "sugar free" anymore either. My "bad fats" were in moderation (and yes, I did and do eat them), but they were the real deal. No fake butter for me. Paula Dean would be so proud! I no longer drink "diet" anything (this was a big change) I mostly drink water or Gatorade when I have a long exercise session or long run. Oh and I also drink coffee and yes, I do drink wine and beer moderately... for crying out loud I'm the mother of FOUR!
I followed basically the same diet over the summer that I did during the spring. Foods that were new or different in my house a long time ago, are now staples... brown rice, whole wheat pasta, olive oil and many others. My family has adjusted well and I might add, I have noticed positive changes in them as well. Since I haven't been running (Oh boy, but I am now! Post for later), my diet has been horrible. Christmas cookies for lunch? Yup, not just once in a while either. So now I'm running again. The goal is to stay healthy, be smart, stay injury free, perform like a machine and feel awesome while doing it. Is that too much to ask?
Saturday, December 11, 2010
A changing mindset
Just when I think I have all the answers, growth happens and I am forced to look a little deeper inward at my Boston quest. I'm telling you, pretty soon I'm going to flip inside-out I have gone so deep. First with Deb's "dangling carrot" comment, which spark a long blog entry, and now this. I am in a book store yesterday and I receive a text from John saying he read something interesting and thought it applied to me and my running goals and in some ways, to everyone. It was a quote by Thoureau which said "Many men go fishing all their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after." I texted him back "So am I not after a BQ?" And he responds "Only you can answer that, grasshopper." To which I replied "You are a NERD!" Really, it is Friday night and I am having this philosophical texting conversation with my husband while in a book store. I'd say there were more than running that needed to be re-evaluated! I guess one of these days, this idea will need to be explored, but for now, let's revisit the summer.
I spent the weeks following the Flying Pig Marathon angry and absorbed in self-pity. And why shouldn't I have? I had trained so hard for that marathon and really deserved a victorious race that resulted in my qualifying for Boston. The first week after the marathon, I nursed the pulled hamstring. I was told not to do ANYTHING on it. No elliptical, no biking, nothing. My first run was on Mother's Day. I met my friend, Kim, at the park and we hit the outer loop and decided perhaps 5 miles was enough. I was very pleased at how well things held up. The hamstring felt "tight", but not painful. I wore John's old soccer brace for his hamstring (he pulled his hamstrings all the time in high school and college and was pretty terrific at telling me what to do in order to get back out there quickly) and things felt stable. I took it rather easy for the next couple of weeks... no hard running or speed work. Before I knew it, I seemed to be back to normal. It bears saying that I strongly considered running a marathon in early June (somewhere in Indiana I think... can't remember the details). I figured I was trained already and I had only run a bit over 8 miles at the Pig and my hamstring was holding up and I could go get my BQ without anyone knowing what I was doing. Just go get it, come home and DONE! The thought was fleeting and quickly dismissed when I was running Race for the Cure in Columbus with Krista in mid May and felt the tightness that made me realize "What the Hell are you even setting yourself up for?" I put the idea out of my head.
The idea of anxiety and tension causing my race disaster was introduced. I was given a book to read called "Running Within... A guide for mastering the body-mind-spirit connection for ultimate training and racing." Ok, anything that has a title like that I used to dismiss immediately. It just sounded so crazy and out there, but I decided to give it a shot. I began to read the book and found an incredible amount of parallels between what was being said in the book and in my own running and racing performances. There was a small paragraph in the beginning of the book that caught my eye and peaked my interest:
"Many of you are interested in running as a means of learning more about who you are and what you are made of, particularly when your realities shrink to a dime at mile 22 of a marathon and you are called upon to dig deep to see what you have left. Running the roads, you begin to come across newer roads, the roads to self-discovery. The race itself becomes a road to spiritual awareness as you explore the meaning of all aspects of life and focus on your problems, concerns, joys and fortunes. This exploratory experience not only creates the opportunity to become a better runner, but also grow as person."
And so began the basis for my marathon training. Finding out just how much I had left when my body said there was nothing. I began exploring my potential to go beyond self-imposed limitations. The more I read, the more I "practiced" this. Getting to the point where I'd normally slow down or ease up on a run when it got really tough and pushing beyond that feeling. The first time I'd actually practiced this in a race was in early June at the Little Miami Triathlon. Sarah and I had partnered up for this race twice before. Each time, we placed impressively. The first time we got 5th place in the female team division out of 75 teams. The second time, we got 2nd out of 80 teams or something like that. Sarah does not do second place very well... especially when it was a mere 42 seconds that prevented us from a first place finish. She decided to enter the triathlon the following year with Ryan Stroud and see what they could do. Ryan is also a fierce competitor and very hard core when it comes to training. That following year, they placed 5th in the male/female division and in the fall, placed 2nd. Damn! Same as the two of us. They decided to give it one last try and go for first place the next year (2010). Unfortunately, Ryan became injured while training for the Pig and just was unable to train for the triathlon. Sarah found this out rather late and 3 weeks before the race posted this on the FB running club wall: "Looking to give away an entry in the Morgan's triathlon or for a partner who wants to go for a first place finish." I took the bait. I called her and said I'd do it. Now honestly, I'm not sure how she felt about this. This was only a couple of weeks following the marathon and she was hell bent on first place. But the run was only 5.5 miles and I was already running that. We'd do the canoe together and the rest was biking. I told her that I knew we could get first this time. She must have believed it (or didn't want to crush my fragile ego at the time) and changed the entry to female/female.
The morning of the race brought a delay in our start time. I guess the race director felt lightening while canoeing might prove a bit unsafe. We were delayed an hour. As we sat there waiting to begin and chatting, I decided not to mention the fact that my quads were a bit fried from the spinning class (which I was new to) on Friday morning as well as the indoor soccer game I'd played that same night. I was also new to indoor soccer and my fast twitch "sprint" muscles were also. So two new activities done 2 days prior to a triathlon in which I pretty much promised my friend a first place finish, was probably not smart. But here we were and now it was time to dig deep and deliver... oh yeah, and not mention it to Sarah.
We decided I'd be in the front of the canoe and she'd be in back. Upon entering she tells me that when she and Ryan did the canoe, she was on her knees, kneeling on her life jacket, giving herself a more powerful stroke. "Uh, that's nice, Sarah. No thanks on taking off my life jacket after the storm we just had." However, I did get on my knees and paddled like a fool. So to keep myself steady, I had to employ the use of my quads, which were supporting my upper body. Remember, they are really sore.
We hammered out the canoe portion pretty well. I think we have always made a darn good team on this part of the race. We did get turned around once, but very quickly got back on track. Following the canoe, was the run. Sarah took off... remember, it is our combined score that counts so we never stay together. As I began running, my quads felt sore and heavy. But now so did my back and shoulders from the 50 minute or so canoe portion. Ok, I had 5.5 miles to run and run fast. I hurt and it was warm out. How was I going to do this. I began to call upon things I had read. To put them into practice and get through the run. I kept telling myself that I would run until my legs literally buckled. I would have to collapse before I would choose to walk. I told myself that Sarah never would have agreed to take me on as a partner if she thought for a minute that I wasn't capable and that she came here to get first and retire from this race for good. I was going to push beyond the point I normally would decide to stop and walk. I noticed as all these thoughts are going through my head that I was getting passed by no one (ok, I think 2 guys did end up passing me.. but no girls) and that I was actually passing quite a few people. This mental boost seemed to give me some physical strength. Before I knew it, I was at "killer hill".. the ridiculously wooded and steep incline to my bike. I made it up the hill, got to my bike, chugged some Gatorade and took off. Now I only had 1/3 of the race to complete. The miles clicked by and my God, I was tired. But I was bound and determined to give everything. I had never, ever raced like this before. It defied logic to be peddling when my legs felt the way they did. I finished the race and after stopping my watch, I looked at it for the first time since we had started. I figured I'd finished maybe a couple of minutes ahead of the last time when we got second place, which was right at 3 hours and 1 minute. I knew I'd broken 3, and when I looked down, my watch read 2:41. I was stunned. How the Hell did I just do that? Hardly any cycling, other that a couple of spinning classes, and sore legs. How did I just knock off 20 minutes? Well the canoe helped. The river level was high and the water was moving and that makes a big difference, but still. The river level was high and the water moving the first time we raced and my time was exactly 3 hours. I had knocked off 19 minutes. Sarah also got her PR at that race. She clocked an impressive 2:29. We were both really excited about our times. Sarah even said "I don't care if we got first or not. We did AWESOME!" Excuse me? Now I was thinking "We BETTER have gotten first place. That is exactly why I just beat the living shit out of myself." After returning home and checking the computer constantly, the results were in. First place in the female/female division..... SARAH HEFFRON/KATE REWWER. The second place female team's combined score was 8 minutes slower. Wow! That is a huge lead. Had Sarah and I both clocked a 2:41, we would have gotten second place... so thanks Sarah!
That experience really shaped the way I trained for Columbus this past summer. It made me realize that you usually always have more to give and that changing your mindset really does alter your performance. I plan to do the Morgan's tri again in June. Sarah has said she has "retired". That after doing it nine times, she got her first place finish and was not doing it again. This proves problematic for me because she is a great canoe partner. So here is what I've told her.... I will use John as my partner since I think the two of us would do great in the canoe also. My goal will be to see how much time I can shave off in a year... with more cycling, strength training and speed work under my belt. I will also make sure I go into the race with rested legs. I know we won't place in the male/female division (unless John trains like a beast for six months.. which is unlikely), but I just may be able to shave off 13 minutes, making my PR for that race a 2:28 (or less). I'm sure Sarah is mature enough to be totally fine with my Morgan's PR being better than hers, right Sarah? Looking forward to you coming out of retirement soon!
I spent the weeks following the Flying Pig Marathon angry and absorbed in self-pity. And why shouldn't I have? I had trained so hard for that marathon and really deserved a victorious race that resulted in my qualifying for Boston. The first week after the marathon, I nursed the pulled hamstring. I was told not to do ANYTHING on it. No elliptical, no biking, nothing. My first run was on Mother's Day. I met my friend, Kim, at the park and we hit the outer loop and decided perhaps 5 miles was enough. I was very pleased at how well things held up. The hamstring felt "tight", but not painful. I wore John's old soccer brace for his hamstring (he pulled his hamstrings all the time in high school and college and was pretty terrific at telling me what to do in order to get back out there quickly) and things felt stable. I took it rather easy for the next couple of weeks... no hard running or speed work. Before I knew it, I seemed to be back to normal. It bears saying that I strongly considered running a marathon in early June (somewhere in Indiana I think... can't remember the details). I figured I was trained already and I had only run a bit over 8 miles at the Pig and my hamstring was holding up and I could go get my BQ without anyone knowing what I was doing. Just go get it, come home and DONE! The thought was fleeting and quickly dismissed when I was running Race for the Cure in Columbus with Krista in mid May and felt the tightness that made me realize "What the Hell are you even setting yourself up for?" I put the idea out of my head.
The idea of anxiety and tension causing my race disaster was introduced. I was given a book to read called "Running Within... A guide for mastering the body-mind-spirit connection for ultimate training and racing." Ok, anything that has a title like that I used to dismiss immediately. It just sounded so crazy and out there, but I decided to give it a shot. I began to read the book and found an incredible amount of parallels between what was being said in the book and in my own running and racing performances. There was a small paragraph in the beginning of the book that caught my eye and peaked my interest:
"Many of you are interested in running as a means of learning more about who you are and what you are made of, particularly when your realities shrink to a dime at mile 22 of a marathon and you are called upon to dig deep to see what you have left. Running the roads, you begin to come across newer roads, the roads to self-discovery. The race itself becomes a road to spiritual awareness as you explore the meaning of all aspects of life and focus on your problems, concerns, joys and fortunes. This exploratory experience not only creates the opportunity to become a better runner, but also grow as person."
And so began the basis for my marathon training. Finding out just how much I had left when my body said there was nothing. I began exploring my potential to go beyond self-imposed limitations. The more I read, the more I "practiced" this. Getting to the point where I'd normally slow down or ease up on a run when it got really tough and pushing beyond that feeling. The first time I'd actually practiced this in a race was in early June at the Little Miami Triathlon. Sarah and I had partnered up for this race twice before. Each time, we placed impressively. The first time we got 5th place in the female team division out of 75 teams. The second time, we got 2nd out of 80 teams or something like that. Sarah does not do second place very well... especially when it was a mere 42 seconds that prevented us from a first place finish. She decided to enter the triathlon the following year with Ryan Stroud and see what they could do. Ryan is also a fierce competitor and very hard core when it comes to training. That following year, they placed 5th in the male/female division and in the fall, placed 2nd. Damn! Same as the two of us. They decided to give it one last try and go for first place the next year (2010). Unfortunately, Ryan became injured while training for the Pig and just was unable to train for the triathlon. Sarah found this out rather late and 3 weeks before the race posted this on the FB running club wall: "Looking to give away an entry in the Morgan's triathlon or for a partner who wants to go for a first place finish." I took the bait. I called her and said I'd do it. Now honestly, I'm not sure how she felt about this. This was only a couple of weeks following the marathon and she was hell bent on first place. But the run was only 5.5 miles and I was already running that. We'd do the canoe together and the rest was biking. I told her that I knew we could get first this time. She must have believed it (or didn't want to crush my fragile ego at the time) and changed the entry to female/female.
The morning of the race brought a delay in our start time. I guess the race director felt lightening while canoeing might prove a bit unsafe. We were delayed an hour. As we sat there waiting to begin and chatting, I decided not to mention the fact that my quads were a bit fried from the spinning class (which I was new to) on Friday morning as well as the indoor soccer game I'd played that same night. I was also new to indoor soccer and my fast twitch "sprint" muscles were also. So two new activities done 2 days prior to a triathlon in which I pretty much promised my friend a first place finish, was probably not smart. But here we were and now it was time to dig deep and deliver... oh yeah, and not mention it to Sarah.
We decided I'd be in the front of the canoe and she'd be in back. Upon entering she tells me that when she and Ryan did the canoe, she was on her knees, kneeling on her life jacket, giving herself a more powerful stroke. "Uh, that's nice, Sarah. No thanks on taking off my life jacket after the storm we just had." However, I did get on my knees and paddled like a fool. So to keep myself steady, I had to employ the use of my quads, which were supporting my upper body. Remember, they are really sore.
We hammered out the canoe portion pretty well. I think we have always made a darn good team on this part of the race. We did get turned around once, but very quickly got back on track. Following the canoe, was the run. Sarah took off... remember, it is our combined score that counts so we never stay together. As I began running, my quads felt sore and heavy. But now so did my back and shoulders from the 50 minute or so canoe portion. Ok, I had 5.5 miles to run and run fast. I hurt and it was warm out. How was I going to do this. I began to call upon things I had read. To put them into practice and get through the run. I kept telling myself that I would run until my legs literally buckled. I would have to collapse before I would choose to walk. I told myself that Sarah never would have agreed to take me on as a partner if she thought for a minute that I wasn't capable and that she came here to get first and retire from this race for good. I was going to push beyond the point I normally would decide to stop and walk. I noticed as all these thoughts are going through my head that I was getting passed by no one (ok, I think 2 guys did end up passing me.. but no girls) and that I was actually passing quite a few people. This mental boost seemed to give me some physical strength. Before I knew it, I was at "killer hill".. the ridiculously wooded and steep incline to my bike. I made it up the hill, got to my bike, chugged some Gatorade and took off. Now I only had 1/3 of the race to complete. The miles clicked by and my God, I was tired. But I was bound and determined to give everything. I had never, ever raced like this before. It defied logic to be peddling when my legs felt the way they did. I finished the race and after stopping my watch, I looked at it for the first time since we had started. I figured I'd finished maybe a couple of minutes ahead of the last time when we got second place, which was right at 3 hours and 1 minute. I knew I'd broken 3, and when I looked down, my watch read 2:41. I was stunned. How the Hell did I just do that? Hardly any cycling, other that a couple of spinning classes, and sore legs. How did I just knock off 20 minutes? Well the canoe helped. The river level was high and the water was moving and that makes a big difference, but still. The river level was high and the water moving the first time we raced and my time was exactly 3 hours. I had knocked off 19 minutes. Sarah also got her PR at that race. She clocked an impressive 2:29. We were both really excited about our times. Sarah even said "I don't care if we got first or not. We did AWESOME!" Excuse me? Now I was thinking "We BETTER have gotten first place. That is exactly why I just beat the living shit out of myself." After returning home and checking the computer constantly, the results were in. First place in the female/female division..... SARAH HEFFRON/KATE REWWER. The second place female team's combined score was 8 minutes slower. Wow! That is a huge lead. Had Sarah and I both clocked a 2:41, we would have gotten second place... so thanks Sarah!
That experience really shaped the way I trained for Columbus this past summer. It made me realize that you usually always have more to give and that changing your mindset really does alter your performance. I plan to do the Morgan's tri again in June. Sarah has said she has "retired". That after doing it nine times, she got her first place finish and was not doing it again. This proves problematic for me because she is a great canoe partner. So here is what I've told her.... I will use John as my partner since I think the two of us would do great in the canoe also. My goal will be to see how much time I can shave off in a year... with more cycling, strength training and speed work under my belt. I will also make sure I go into the race with rested legs. I know we won't place in the male/female division (unless John trains like a beast for six months.. which is unlikely), but I just may be able to shave off 13 minutes, making my PR for that race a 2:28 (or less). I'm sure Sarah is mature enough to be totally fine with my Morgan's PR being better than hers, right Sarah? Looking forward to you coming out of retirement soon!
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Openness
It never fails to amaze me that when one door closes, often another (or several) one opens. Sometimes the one that opens leads to you to a dead end, like the last one did, and the door shuts. Other times it leads you to something incredible, amazing and fulfilling.
Fate has been quite timely lately. Yesterday morning, I woke up to a door that closed. Without going into much detail, something I have been working on for several weeks, proved that it wasn't going anywhere. I was disappointed, but I am over it given there are many other opportunities down this particular road. Fast forward to the afternoon and I receive an e-mail from a friend. Ok, this person is more like an aquaintance given that I only speak to her when I see her out, but nonetheless, she is such a terrific person and a breath of fresh air and I feel justified in calling her a friend, so I will refer to her as "my friend". The purpose for the e-mail was that she was "thinking" of beginning a Girls on the Run program in Harrison. She had heard that this was something I had thought about and wanted to know if I'd be interested in helping and coaching with her. The group of students would not only not include girls from my daughters age group, but also not even from her school. After an extensive conversation with her, I said "Of course. I will help in any way possible." Girls on the Run is a fantastic organization targeting girls from grades 3-8. It is a 10 week program that "trains" the girls to run a 5k. The objective is to help build self-esteem and encourage fitness and well-being in the lives of these young ladies through running. I had been approached last year by a fellow parent at St. John (my kids' school) asking me to "get it started" there. I loved the idea, researched the organization a bit, filled out an assistant coach application (thought it'd be best to get my feet wet before soaking my whole body). After weeks of nothing, I began to get e-mails about coaches meetings and I realized I would be assisting in an area not even close to Harrison. Home life just would not permit me to commit to the kind of time I would need to commit, so I put it on the back burner. Life got busy, training for Columbus was in full swing and it was just something that was back there, but not revisited. Until yesterday.
Throughout the course of conversation with my friend, she mentioned that this was something she has wanted to do for three years and that something was now "really pulling her" in this direction. I told her I could completely relate to the feeling. She is the mother of four and believes very strongly that her children see her do something for others that requires a good amount of hard work and dedication, but offers "no tangible reward". I loved her wording on this as I sometimes get frustrated with the things I do that offer no compensation, yet require a terrific amount of my time and energy. I tend to get caught up in the "I am not getting paid for this so why am I bothering with all the crap that comes with it." At times I compare and place my value in society with those who "work" for a living. Meaning they earn money for what they do. I struggled quite a bit when I made the decision to leave my job two years ago and "be home for a while". I actually resigned and then went back to my boss and said I'd changed my mind, only to realize several months later, it was what I needed to do. It was a frightening decision and thank God, it was the right one. I love being a nurse and I LOVE seeing new life, but it was a job I needed to leave. I value my nursing license, will keep it current and one of these days, weeks, months or years.... go back to it.
In the meantime, like my friend, I feel new doors are opening and I'm being pulled in a completely different direction. Of course they include running (I'd question your IQ if you could not figure that out). Walking through these doors is scary. Risk is involved. The risk of failing. The risk of criticism. The risk of being judged (by those who never take risks I might add). The risk of not getting the outcome you were after. After all, the surefire way NOT to fail is to do nothing, be nothing, learn nothing, stand for nothing and talk to no one. And the surefire way to set yourself for failure is to speak up, act out, try new things, make mistakes, say what you feel, reach out, put it out there, have opinions, be hasty, be vulnerable, be real. But this is also the surefire way to set yourself up for kick-ass success doing something you love! As you can guess, I prefer the latter.
Fate has been quite timely lately. Yesterday morning, I woke up to a door that closed. Without going into much detail, something I have been working on for several weeks, proved that it wasn't going anywhere. I was disappointed, but I am over it given there are many other opportunities down this particular road. Fast forward to the afternoon and I receive an e-mail from a friend. Ok, this person is more like an aquaintance given that I only speak to her when I see her out, but nonetheless, she is such a terrific person and a breath of fresh air and I feel justified in calling her a friend, so I will refer to her as "my friend". The purpose for the e-mail was that she was "thinking" of beginning a Girls on the Run program in Harrison. She had heard that this was something I had thought about and wanted to know if I'd be interested in helping and coaching with her. The group of students would not only not include girls from my daughters age group, but also not even from her school. After an extensive conversation with her, I said "Of course. I will help in any way possible." Girls on the Run is a fantastic organization targeting girls from grades 3-8. It is a 10 week program that "trains" the girls to run a 5k. The objective is to help build self-esteem and encourage fitness and well-being in the lives of these young ladies through running. I had been approached last year by a fellow parent at St. John (my kids' school) asking me to "get it started" there. I loved the idea, researched the organization a bit, filled out an assistant coach application (thought it'd be best to get my feet wet before soaking my whole body). After weeks of nothing, I began to get e-mails about coaches meetings and I realized I would be assisting in an area not even close to Harrison. Home life just would not permit me to commit to the kind of time I would need to commit, so I put it on the back burner. Life got busy, training for Columbus was in full swing and it was just something that was back there, but not revisited. Until yesterday.
Throughout the course of conversation with my friend, she mentioned that this was something she has wanted to do for three years and that something was now "really pulling her" in this direction. I told her I could completely relate to the feeling. She is the mother of four and believes very strongly that her children see her do something for others that requires a good amount of hard work and dedication, but offers "no tangible reward". I loved her wording on this as I sometimes get frustrated with the things I do that offer no compensation, yet require a terrific amount of my time and energy. I tend to get caught up in the "I am not getting paid for this so why am I bothering with all the crap that comes with it." At times I compare and place my value in society with those who "work" for a living. Meaning they earn money for what they do. I struggled quite a bit when I made the decision to leave my job two years ago and "be home for a while". I actually resigned and then went back to my boss and said I'd changed my mind, only to realize several months later, it was what I needed to do. It was a frightening decision and thank God, it was the right one. I love being a nurse and I LOVE seeing new life, but it was a job I needed to leave. I value my nursing license, will keep it current and one of these days, weeks, months or years.... go back to it.
In the meantime, like my friend, I feel new doors are opening and I'm being pulled in a completely different direction. Of course they include running (I'd question your IQ if you could not figure that out). Walking through these doors is scary. Risk is involved. The risk of failing. The risk of criticism. The risk of being judged (by those who never take risks I might add). The risk of not getting the outcome you were after. After all, the surefire way NOT to fail is to do nothing, be nothing, learn nothing, stand for nothing and talk to no one. And the surefire way to set yourself for failure is to speak up, act out, try new things, make mistakes, say what you feel, reach out, put it out there, have opinions, be hasty, be vulnerable, be real. But this is also the surefire way to set yourself up for kick-ass success doing something you love! As you can guess, I prefer the latter.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Thought Provoking Deb Dole
Fact: The number of posts I make is directly related to the level of frustration I have with being kept from my running shoes.
Other Fact: I don't want to fold the laundry on the couch so I'm sitting at my computer instead.
This post is dedicated to my friend, Deb. I met Deb when Will was in preschool. Her son, Sergio, was in Will's class and the boys have been in school together ever since. They are now sixth graders (just typing that boggles my mind). I saw Deb at the Harrison Christmas parade last night... great night for a Christmas parade. Not too freezing, but light snow falling and lights everywhere. REALLY got me in the Christmas spirit. Deb is my "wise" friend. She is a deep thinker with lots and lots of knowledge on all kinds of topics. I could seriously sit and listen to her philosophy on life all day long. I always feel "smarter" after a good chat with Deb. She is funny and real, a combo that I'm just drawn to. She is also someone I look up to tremendously... Deb has overcome a lot of personal battles and reached amazing goals... sometimes taking a break when necessary, but always getting back in there and completing what she was after. My friends never fail to influence me to keep my eye on the prize. Never. Particularly Deb.
Last night Deb says to me "Kate, I'm enjoying your blog. It has given me a look into the twisted little mind of Kate Rewwer." Uh, what? A little off, ok. Twisted though? We then proceed to talk about how we both love to write and how therapeutic it is and how much keeping this "journal" has helped me get my thoughts about my Boston goal in order. She says she has seen tremendous growth throughout the blog. Funny, because I can feel it happening as I write too. Finally she said something that has provoked a lot of thought in the past 12 hours. She said "Do you think in some way that you are keeping this carrot dangling in front of you?" The carrot she is referring to is Boston. And I know that right away. And we talk a little bit about how she thinks that she is sometimes like that with things that she is after and I completely get what she is saying. But after much thought and consideration of her question, I have come up with the answer.
The answer in no, Deb. If I could grab that carrot and eat it right up, I would. I would have done it the first time in Columbus if I could have. I want nothing more in the universe right now that to be preparing to run the 2011 Boston Marathon. I already have the title of my next blog.... "For the Love of God, I HAVE MADE IT TO BOSTON!" And then I will write about my next adventure... you know, maybe joining my brother in an ultra-marathon. Not just to pace him for part of it, but to run the whole damn thing with him. After Columbus, Sarah even suggested I take a break (clearly for sanity's sake... gosh maybe even for HER sanity) from the Boston goal this year and focus on an ultra or something. She did that (not with ultras) and it worked like magic for her. She just revised her goals a bit after failing to get a BQ twice. When her mind and body were in a different place, she came back to it and succeeded. And you have done that too with some of your goals. This is where our differences come out. I can't do it. I've gone through phases where I'm so emotionally drained from the past two years that I just want to say "Forget it. I cannot keep doing this to myself." But in reality, I am so completely tunnel visioned when it comes to this and I won't take a break. Only after I qualify will I then allow myself to move on. Not vice versa. It's just me and we are all very different creatures and different things make us tick (as Sarah puts it). And believe me, I am not trying to drag this thing out or "keep that carrot dangling". As much as I love running and marathoning, Boston is not the end of my racing goals. It is just one that I have failed to meet and as all my writings indicate, it's driving me nuts that I haven't done it. I'm a very proud person. Like most people on earth, I want people to look at me and say "Wow! Look what she did!" I think that is what drives a lot of us in the direction we take. That, combined with a sense of accomplishment and self satisfaction, gives us the confidence we need to then set and go after our next goal. We find something we love and we dive in, head first and passionate. Because we love it, we work our asses off and also because we love it, it doesn't always feel like work. I have found I love the insanity and structure of training and therefore, I do it happily. I would, however, LOVE to be training for something other than a BQ. Actual Boston? Yes! A marathon that I can see how fast I can run it in? Yes! An ultra-marathon? Yes!
Confidence has clearly been an issue in preventing me from reaching my goal. I'm ok with putting that out there. I'm also "confident" that is was not the issue with this past marathon. My MRI is a pretty good indicator of that. When I do finally stop all the ADD blogging and write my post about training for this marathon, the growth will really come through and you will know it. But I will admit, I am still and always will be, a work in progress when it comes to this.
On a final note... the mind of Kate Rewwer is definitely twisted when it comes to racing performance and all of my crazy thoughts that confident racers cannot wrap their brains around. But this blog is only about that part of my life, therefore it screams "You are a freaking nut job!" But there are many more parts to me that are not twisted and actually pretty level headed. I do not write about my marriage or my family life (I touch on it a little because much of it impacts my running) or my career goals. All of these things make up the whole person and there are many different layers to the whole person. You are getting a look at the scared, nervous racer, but you are also seeing the confident writer and speaker. You are not getting a look at the girl who has carried herself with much confidence when going into any job interview, never doubting she'd get the job and always getting the job.... probably because she can BS pretty damn well (potential employers... really, I am smart too). I know there exists many confident racers who probably hold back in other areas of their lives due to lack of confidence. Perhaps that prohibits them from meeting their other life goals.
I will strive to be confident in all areas of my life. The racing thing.. well that has, and will continue to, take a lot of work. But I am working on it and then perhaps I can teach the things I've learned to someone else, just like many of my friends and family members have taught me. So, Deb, thanks for the thought provoking topic. You really got me thinking about this. Hell, you've got me thinking about a lot of things. And now John thanks you for keeping his wife off her tasks in the house (NOT). Your friendship is a true gift!
Other Fact: I don't want to fold the laundry on the couch so I'm sitting at my computer instead.
This post is dedicated to my friend, Deb. I met Deb when Will was in preschool. Her son, Sergio, was in Will's class and the boys have been in school together ever since. They are now sixth graders (just typing that boggles my mind). I saw Deb at the Harrison Christmas parade last night... great night for a Christmas parade. Not too freezing, but light snow falling and lights everywhere. REALLY got me in the Christmas spirit. Deb is my "wise" friend. She is a deep thinker with lots and lots of knowledge on all kinds of topics. I could seriously sit and listen to her philosophy on life all day long. I always feel "smarter" after a good chat with Deb. She is funny and real, a combo that I'm just drawn to. She is also someone I look up to tremendously... Deb has overcome a lot of personal battles and reached amazing goals... sometimes taking a break when necessary, but always getting back in there and completing what she was after. My friends never fail to influence me to keep my eye on the prize. Never. Particularly Deb.
Last night Deb says to me "Kate, I'm enjoying your blog. It has given me a look into the twisted little mind of Kate Rewwer." Uh, what? A little off, ok. Twisted though? We then proceed to talk about how we both love to write and how therapeutic it is and how much keeping this "journal" has helped me get my thoughts about my Boston goal in order. She says she has seen tremendous growth throughout the blog. Funny, because I can feel it happening as I write too. Finally she said something that has provoked a lot of thought in the past 12 hours. She said "Do you think in some way that you are keeping this carrot dangling in front of you?" The carrot she is referring to is Boston. And I know that right away. And we talk a little bit about how she thinks that she is sometimes like that with things that she is after and I completely get what she is saying. But after much thought and consideration of her question, I have come up with the answer.
The answer in no, Deb. If I could grab that carrot and eat it right up, I would. I would have done it the first time in Columbus if I could have. I want nothing more in the universe right now that to be preparing to run the 2011 Boston Marathon. I already have the title of my next blog.... "For the Love of God, I HAVE MADE IT TO BOSTON!" And then I will write about my next adventure... you know, maybe joining my brother in an ultra-marathon. Not just to pace him for part of it, but to run the whole damn thing with him. After Columbus, Sarah even suggested I take a break (clearly for sanity's sake... gosh maybe even for HER sanity) from the Boston goal this year and focus on an ultra or something. She did that (not with ultras) and it worked like magic for her. She just revised her goals a bit after failing to get a BQ twice. When her mind and body were in a different place, she came back to it and succeeded. And you have done that too with some of your goals. This is where our differences come out. I can't do it. I've gone through phases where I'm so emotionally drained from the past two years that I just want to say "Forget it. I cannot keep doing this to myself." But in reality, I am so completely tunnel visioned when it comes to this and I won't take a break. Only after I qualify will I then allow myself to move on. Not vice versa. It's just me and we are all very different creatures and different things make us tick (as Sarah puts it). And believe me, I am not trying to drag this thing out or "keep that carrot dangling". As much as I love running and marathoning, Boston is not the end of my racing goals. It is just one that I have failed to meet and as all my writings indicate, it's driving me nuts that I haven't done it. I'm a very proud person. Like most people on earth, I want people to look at me and say "Wow! Look what she did!" I think that is what drives a lot of us in the direction we take. That, combined with a sense of accomplishment and self satisfaction, gives us the confidence we need to then set and go after our next goal. We find something we love and we dive in, head first and passionate. Because we love it, we work our asses off and also because we love it, it doesn't always feel like work. I have found I love the insanity and structure of training and therefore, I do it happily. I would, however, LOVE to be training for something other than a BQ. Actual Boston? Yes! A marathon that I can see how fast I can run it in? Yes! An ultra-marathon? Yes!
Confidence has clearly been an issue in preventing me from reaching my goal. I'm ok with putting that out there. I'm also "confident" that is was not the issue with this past marathon. My MRI is a pretty good indicator of that. When I do finally stop all the ADD blogging and write my post about training for this marathon, the growth will really come through and you will know it. But I will admit, I am still and always will be, a work in progress when it comes to this.
On a final note... the mind of Kate Rewwer is definitely twisted when it comes to racing performance and all of my crazy thoughts that confident racers cannot wrap their brains around. But this blog is only about that part of my life, therefore it screams "You are a freaking nut job!" But there are many more parts to me that are not twisted and actually pretty level headed. I do not write about my marriage or my family life (I touch on it a little because much of it impacts my running) or my career goals. All of these things make up the whole person and there are many different layers to the whole person. You are getting a look at the scared, nervous racer, but you are also seeing the confident writer and speaker. You are not getting a look at the girl who has carried herself with much confidence when going into any job interview, never doubting she'd get the job and always getting the job.... probably because she can BS pretty damn well (potential employers... really, I am smart too). I know there exists many confident racers who probably hold back in other areas of their lives due to lack of confidence. Perhaps that prohibits them from meeting their other life goals.
I will strive to be confident in all areas of my life. The racing thing.. well that has, and will continue to, take a lot of work. But I am working on it and then perhaps I can teach the things I've learned to someone else, just like many of my friends and family members have taught me. So, Deb, thanks for the thought provoking topic. You really got me thinking about this. Hell, you've got me thinking about a lot of things. And now John thanks you for keeping his wife off her tasks in the house (NOT). Your friendship is a true gift!
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Wendi Jenkins Journal Entry
I received an e-mail yesterday from the CaringBridge site that Todd and Wendi Jenkins had journaled Seth's illness on. The e-mail indicated a new journal entry had been written. I read the entry, cried a bit and then sent Wendi an e-mail requesting permission to post her journal entry on my blog. I wanted to do this considering I had not only written a post about Seth, but continue to draw strength from him and his wise saying. It helps me not only in my running, but it many other areas of my life. Here is a look into the soul of a grieving mother. Count your blessings this Christmas and always.
Looking beyond... in other words, The Big Picture
I have made the very difficult decision to stop running again (bulky thighs aren't going anywhere soon I guess). I can't seem to shake the soreness in my left calf (and now shin area) after my careless run on Thursday. Yesterday I decided I'd give it a week. Today I've decided to give it whatever time it needs and deep down, I believe that to be more than a week. Let me sum up my thoughts for you in one sentence. THIS ABSOLUTELY SUCKS! Some things you have control over and when things go wrong, you can correct or fix the problem. This is not one of those things and if you are even a slight control freak, this is one of those things that'll make you crazy. I have spent much time and energy trying to control this injury and expedite healing (which is a good thing), but then I decided when it was time to start running again and did not let the leg decide when it was time. Well, it doesn't work that way. The doctor said "could be 6 weeks". Kate decided "It will be no more than 6 weeks." Before bed last night I had one of those mature and grown up talks with myself (ok, not THAT kind of talk). The kind of talk I'd give my kids (and had to give my kids when progress reports came home... YIKES). I have met many people that say "Oh I used to be a runner. I used to run all the time, but I cannot anymore. I've had both knees replaced, hips replaced, legs amputated (exaggeration but you get the point) and it is impossible now. Sure do miss it!" I get it. I realize these are more than likely the addicts that never let things recover and heal. That lived for the moment and failed to look at the long term, big picture. Following the NYC Marathon this November, Haile Gebrselassie, considered the greatest distance runner of all time, announced his retirement due to a knee injury. I watched his very emotional press conference. He was clearly so torn by his decision, but had no other choice. During the New York Marathon, he had pulled out of his first marathon ever at around 15-16 miles because the injury was so bad. Now for him, training through injury was what he had to do to be the best. He has won two Olympic gold medals and many other championship titles. He absolutely had to beat his body up to get to that point and I'm not saying if I had that potential or opportunity I wouldn't have done the same. I would have. But that is not the runner I am. I don't make a living from running many miles, no one is counting on me to run and run well. This is all just because I love to do it. During part of Haile's press conference, he explains that he is so emotional because he just loves running so much and he is heart broken to have to stop. He is 37 years old... younger than I am. That is the first, and quite possibly the only, time I have ever had tears when an athlete announced retirement due to injury (of course, I was hormonal and this was just a few weeks ago and I'm feeling REALLY sorry for myself as if I can even relate on his level. I can a little and that was enough to push me over the edge that day). His emotional pain was definitely not about not being able to win marathons anymore.
I want to be running when I'm old. I want to be the grandma in the community paper who just ran her 80th marathon on her 80th birthday (or something like that... oh and an age group award would be a nice addition to that article too and I'll be on my 76th Boston Qualifier...). I won't ever be that lady if I continue to run when I shouldn't. I have proven to myself that the cross-training is keeping me up to "speed", and I need to let that keep me sane and reasonable for a while. So no more posts about foolish fast runs.
At least I don't think so....
I want to be running when I'm old. I want to be the grandma in the community paper who just ran her 80th marathon on her 80th birthday (or something like that... oh and an age group award would be a nice addition to that article too and I'll be on my 76th Boston Qualifier...). I won't ever be that lady if I continue to run when I shouldn't. I have proven to myself that the cross-training is keeping me up to "speed", and I need to let that keep me sane and reasonable for a while. So no more posts about foolish fast runs.
At least I don't think so....
Friday, December 3, 2010
Not So Fast...
When I started this blog, I wrote that I would be posting small victories as well as setbacks. Consider this a post about setbacks. I posted on Sunday that I was running again. And I am. But I don't really think I should be, or at least not go about it the way I have been. I have had some good, short runs on the treadmill this week and those were not problematic. Yesterday I wasn't going to be able to make it to the gym, but I really needed a good workout, so I made the decision to run. I decided to do the four mile loop I'd done on Sunday. Yes, the flat one. I decided to just go out with no plans and just see how it felt. Well it felt great! After a little warm-up, of course I couldn't resist. I picked it up and went faster! Faster than what I should have been doing. I should have slowed down. I probably should have walked as the familiar feel of yes, pain, crept into my left lower leg. Now I was angry. Dammit, I am GOING to do this run and I am GOING to do it well because the rest of me feels so good and strong and I am not going backwards. I had the sweet taste of running again and I didn't want to stop. I glanced down at my Garmin at mile 3. Yes, I was flying (it's all relative. To an elite runner, this would be slow jog pace). For me, to be running the pace I was while NOT racing or NOT doing a tempo, but rather "just a run" is great. What would I be doing in a 5k? I could go faster if I were racing. I was thinking this to myself. I felt like keeping up the pace... so I did, until I got home at 4.23 miles. I stretched out my calves immediately, but the left one was PISSED! It was whining, quite a bit, about the stunt I'd just pulled. I finished stretching and headed to the freezer for ice. I packed up the whole lower leg with ice and sat there.. thinking... for 20 minutes. I thought about what a cruel irony it is that I am in the best running shape I've ever been in so far, despite the time off (You like that? Yup, it indicates I'm always striving to get better) and I cannot perform the way I feel I am entitled to perform. If I keep pulling this kind of nonsense on a very sensitive, fresh from injury body part, I'm going to pay in more ways than just this. I know the logic, but I am struggling with the concept. I'm like the alcoholic that has "just one beer". I can't do "just one run". I either have to stay away completely or be ready to go all out, which I'm not. I have a very hard time with moderation when it comes to running. More so now since I have not been running and I want to begin training for my spring marathon.
I have to do everything in my power to let good sense take over. I have to ignore the fact that Saturday we are supposed to be hit with snow... which I LOVE to run in. I need to go out cautiously, if I go out at all. I need to pull in the reins and slow down, listen to my body, stop for pain and accept that it is because I have chosen to make this sport such a big part of my life, that I will inevitably find myself occasionally needing to take time off for injury.
This is a huge exercise in restraint for me. I am digging for the mental muscle needed to complete this exercise successfully.
I have to do everything in my power to let good sense take over. I have to ignore the fact that Saturday we are supposed to be hit with snow... which I LOVE to run in. I need to go out cautiously, if I go out at all. I need to pull in the reins and slow down, listen to my body, stop for pain and accept that it is because I have chosen to make this sport such a big part of my life, that I will inevitably find myself occasionally needing to take time off for injury.
This is a huge exercise in restraint for me. I am digging for the mental muscle needed to complete this exercise successfully.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
The Big Pig Disaster
This is the post I have been putting off because it is a very unpleasant event to revisit. It wasn't even so much the actual marathon either. It was the weeks before, as well as the weeks that followed. I previously described my mental state in the sense that I was beginning to panic over the forecast that was being predicted for marathon morning. Every time I logged on to that damn weather.com, it seemed our chances of thunderstorms increased until they reached 100% and stayed there. There was that picture of the lightening bolt that kept sticking out at me. My sister in Nashville had enlightened me about the recent Nashville marathon that was canceled part way through due to "severe weather". She mentioned something about tornados I believe. So needing an outlet for some apparent anxiety over the race, I zoned in completely on the weather... as if I could do a darn thing about it. Remember, during this time, I really thought I was in check for the race, both physically and mentally. After all, I had checked my training log over again and again and my log indicated race day success! I was ready... if only the forecast would cooperate (not the case.... did not realize it... at the time)
The day before the Pig brought a morning downpour. I remember this well because I was standing in it at Jack's track meet, a meet in which Jack was refusing to run. The track was flooded around the turns. My mind focused on the next morning as I tried to picture myself splashing through puddles in the middle of a giant thunderstorm. I was beginning to wonder how and the heck one runs that far with SO MUCH RAIN!
Following our Team Mitch party at Maria's, John and I brought the kids to John's mom and dad. Krista was with us. She had come from Columbus to run the half marathon and was staying with me that night. Let me tell you, the anxiety wasn't even comparable to what I experienced the night before the 2009 Columbus Marathon. I felt more relaxed and maybe it was because most of my time around Krista is spent laughing. We got back to the house and began our race day prep... trying to figure out shorts or capri's, charging ipods, pinning numbers and tying on timing chips. I really think it was a godsend having her there that night. We spent some time chatting, catching up on what my previous co-workers in Columbus were up and talking about all kinds of stuff. Finally it was time for bed. I settled in, aware that although nervous, I was not "freaking out". I drifted off sooner that I expected I would and was awakened hours later to the sound loud thunder accompanied by flashes of lightening. Oh boy, this would be fun.
Not so bright, but super early, I was up getting ready. The rain was incredible, as were the impressive bolts of lightening that kept flashing through my window. At this point, all I could do was laugh. I had no idea how all this weather would unfold during the race, but we were soon to find out. Once we were ready with our packed race bags, we headed out to pick up Sarah, who was also running the half after running Boston two weeks prior. With two of the best girlfriends anyone could ever wish for, both of whom I love dearly for different reasons, and my husband in the car, I took a brief and silent moment to consider what I had been blessed with. I recall thinking that this was going to be a wonderful day and we were off to a memorable and qualifying marathon. Memorable it was!
I am not exaggerating when I describe the lightening as blinding on the way to the race. Those bolts were massive! Sarah was jokingly trying to block the windows to prevent me from seeing. I did not know how they could justify running this race on time with weather like this but I just wanted to get to the start and RUN. It was a rush to the start as John pretty much dumped us out and went to find parking. It was pouring as the three of us (Krista, Sarah and I) made our way through the crowd of runners to find our lucky spots. With minutes to spare, we made it. I got to the 3:40 pacer to find my two cousins, Sean and Brian waiting. I hugged my friends and told them good luck and I'd see them at the finish line. Let's just say I am thankful to not have been the tallest standing object in that crowd with the lightening we had.
I set my Garmin just in time to hear the gun go off, indicating the race had begun! So with the rain pouring down and lightening flashing everywhere, the Flying Pig marathon had started! My cousins and I began running. Again, as the minutes went by, the nerves melted away. The very act of running was so calming. I found a lot of humor in those that were avoiding the puddles... seriously, our shoes were drenched and you had runners who I guess wanted theirs "less drenched"? I saw this as wasted energy. Trying to dodge the inevitable. Well I was a smart racer and I would run straight and not try to go around anything (unless it included a very slow runner). Miles one and two were spent warming up and calming down. Mile three, the rain seemed to be easing a bit. I began to feel a little tight in my left hamstring. Almost like I needed to stretch it out. It was here where I decided to back off of the 3:40 pacer as I began to worry about the 3 mile climb to Eden Park. I figured I'd keep him in my sights and I'd catch up after the hill. What I didn't realize at the time (thank goodness) is that he was behind where he should have been. I continued to zone in on his balloons. I looked back and could not see the 3:45 pacer so I was in good shape. I felt I'd made a smart decision. My hamstring did not hurt. But I wasn't sure why it felt so darn tight! Mile 4-5, the beginning of the long climb. I remember thinking of Mitch and Seth during this part. I also remember my hamstring tightness easing up a bit as the hill got steeper. I was elated that the hill training, combined with the taper was paying off. I was steady and strong on the hill. I marveled at how good I felt and knew everything was going to be ok. The rain was a light mist now and everyone seemed to have a great time. My friend Kim's husband, Joe, who was running the half, caught up to me and we chatted for a bit before he continued to climb up at a faster pace. I remember passing the eight mile mark. Toward the top of the hill there was a fluid station. I realized I had only stopped once for a drink and decided now would be good. The hill was just about over and the hardest part of the marathon, which didn't seem so hard, was going to be behind me. I slowed down and grabbed a cup. As I started to run, pushing my left leg forward, I felt a sudden and severe pain in my left hamstring. I yelled "F%@K" so loudly that the majority of runners turned to look at me. I tried to continue running, as I was just about at the top. I did not know what to do. I had no phone. I had no idea when I would see John. I began to run in hopes that it would work itself out, but it wasn't happening. Miraculously, I saw John. He was cheering and waving with the video camera. I made my way over to him and told him I thought that I had pulled a hamstring. "Come on, I'll run with you" was his response. I started crying and said I could not. I had tried when it first happened but the stabbing pain from behind my leg was something I could not work through for 17 more miles, or in my mind, even 1 more mile. I was now on the sidewalk feeling like I was in a fog. It hit me that it was over. All the training and preparation for this race had come to an abrupt end between miles 8 and 9. I was approached by a Team in Training coach who asked if I needed anything. Then Kathleen stopped and asked if I was ok. I told her what had happened and that I was out of the race. I could not believe that this was happening. I stood there sobbing on the sidewalk as I tried to wrap my brain around my race being over. Thank God for small miracles, such as the car being directly across the street. John and I made our way across the course, and as we did, the 3:45 pacer ran by. Sitting in the warm car hugging my legs on the seat, we made our way back to the start. I don't remember our conversation. I just remember sitting there in complete disbelief. I recall calling my sister Maggie, who I figured was up bright and early in Texas tracking her sister on-line. Nope, I woke the bitch up! Really? Damn it, Mag, I was running a BQ marathon and you are sleeping? Ok, there's another shout out for Maggie. I mean, who cares that she had just brought her sickly newborn baby boy home from the hospital like, the day before or something like that, I WAS RUNNING A MARATHON, for God sakes! All kidding aside, Maggie was really upset for me and I hated making that call to her.
Once we got into downtown, I knew Sarah should be finishing up her half. Sure enough, sitting there in the warm car, John's cell phone rang. I saw Sarah's number and told John to get it. There was just no way I could keep any kind of composure at that moment. "How's she doing?" I could hear her through the silence in the car (iphones... not good for private conversations either). "Well, she is sitting right here with me. She pulled her hamstring and she's out of the race." "Shut up, John. Not funny. How is she doing really??" John is like the boy who cried wolf. He jokes so much, that people really don't know when to take him seriously. "Sarah I'm serious. Here, talk to her." I shot him a glaring look as I took the phone. "Hey Sarah, it's me." "What the HELL? What happened? OH MY GOD! I thought John was just being, well.... JOHN!" I'm pretty sure that was the sequence of her words. I gave the phone back to John so he could tell her where to meet us. Minutes later, Sarah appeared at the car window, soaking wet and draped in her finisher's blanket. She hopped in the car, leaned over and gave me a hug. I suddenly realized SHE had just run the half and said "Tell me how you did." She was reluctant to say that two weeks after kicking ass in Boston, she ran a personal best at the Flying Pig 1/2 Marathon in a time that awarded her 2nd in her age group. Now I felt awful! I wanted to celebrate her accomplishment, but now she was devastated for my race. The situation just sucked, plain and simple.
We made our way to the finish line to meet the many runners that were going to be waiting to see me finish the full. Kim, Vicki, Kevin, Tammy, and Krista all came in little by little. Again, I know Krista got a personal best (which she has since beat in Columbus... YES, I AM A PRO AT RUINING THE GLORIOUS MOMENTS OF OTHERS). I think others did too, but their times are escaping me as all these non-qualifying disastrous races are blending together.
We got home, I said my good-byes to Krista, who was heading back to Columbus and we then got ready to go to my nephew's First Communion. At the First Communion party, there were many Team Mitch members who wanted to know what happened. I recapped the day with a feigned positivity, mostly because I had succeeded in ruining the special day of my friends and their races and I would not do it to my nephew, who should have been the center of attention. I claimed to be "doing ok." In reality, my hamstring hurt, my head hurt and my heart hurt. I wanted nothing more than to go home and go to bed and put the day behind me. Little did I know how much effort "putting that day behind me" would take.
This post is finally coming out of "draft mode", where it has been and revisited for four days. Perhaps the not finishing is what makes the revisit so difficult. I know it is said that with each failure and setback, there are valuable lessons learned. I know this, yet I've still never found the silver lining from that race. Perhaps the lesson of a strong mental mindset learned and practiced this summer is the one I'm to take from the Pig. I don't know. I was told that my body was wound so tightly and so tense that it was no surprise that I suffered a hamstring pull when I had no problems with my hamstrings. I thought that was bullshit when I heard it. I no longer do. More to come on this subject. For now, I'm happy to have this post behind me!
The day before the Pig brought a morning downpour. I remember this well because I was standing in it at Jack's track meet, a meet in which Jack was refusing to run. The track was flooded around the turns. My mind focused on the next morning as I tried to picture myself splashing through puddles in the middle of a giant thunderstorm. I was beginning to wonder how and the heck one runs that far with SO MUCH RAIN!
Following our Team Mitch party at Maria's, John and I brought the kids to John's mom and dad. Krista was with us. She had come from Columbus to run the half marathon and was staying with me that night. Let me tell you, the anxiety wasn't even comparable to what I experienced the night before the 2009 Columbus Marathon. I felt more relaxed and maybe it was because most of my time around Krista is spent laughing. We got back to the house and began our race day prep... trying to figure out shorts or capri's, charging ipods, pinning numbers and tying on timing chips. I really think it was a godsend having her there that night. We spent some time chatting, catching up on what my previous co-workers in Columbus were up and talking about all kinds of stuff. Finally it was time for bed. I settled in, aware that although nervous, I was not "freaking out". I drifted off sooner that I expected I would and was awakened hours later to the sound loud thunder accompanied by flashes of lightening. Oh boy, this would be fun.
Not so bright, but super early, I was up getting ready. The rain was incredible, as were the impressive bolts of lightening that kept flashing through my window. At this point, all I could do was laugh. I had no idea how all this weather would unfold during the race, but we were soon to find out. Once we were ready with our packed race bags, we headed out to pick up Sarah, who was also running the half after running Boston two weeks prior. With two of the best girlfriends anyone could ever wish for, both of whom I love dearly for different reasons, and my husband in the car, I took a brief and silent moment to consider what I had been blessed with. I recall thinking that this was going to be a wonderful day and we were off to a memorable and qualifying marathon. Memorable it was!
I am not exaggerating when I describe the lightening as blinding on the way to the race. Those bolts were massive! Sarah was jokingly trying to block the windows to prevent me from seeing. I did not know how they could justify running this race on time with weather like this but I just wanted to get to the start and RUN. It was a rush to the start as John pretty much dumped us out and went to find parking. It was pouring as the three of us (Krista, Sarah and I) made our way through the crowd of runners to find our lucky spots. With minutes to spare, we made it. I got to the 3:40 pacer to find my two cousins, Sean and Brian waiting. I hugged my friends and told them good luck and I'd see them at the finish line. Let's just say I am thankful to not have been the tallest standing object in that crowd with the lightening we had.
I set my Garmin just in time to hear the gun go off, indicating the race had begun! So with the rain pouring down and lightening flashing everywhere, the Flying Pig marathon had started! My cousins and I began running. Again, as the minutes went by, the nerves melted away. The very act of running was so calming. I found a lot of humor in those that were avoiding the puddles... seriously, our shoes were drenched and you had runners who I guess wanted theirs "less drenched"? I saw this as wasted energy. Trying to dodge the inevitable. Well I was a smart racer and I would run straight and not try to go around anything (unless it included a very slow runner). Miles one and two were spent warming up and calming down. Mile three, the rain seemed to be easing a bit. I began to feel a little tight in my left hamstring. Almost like I needed to stretch it out. It was here where I decided to back off of the 3:40 pacer as I began to worry about the 3 mile climb to Eden Park. I figured I'd keep him in my sights and I'd catch up after the hill. What I didn't realize at the time (thank goodness) is that he was behind where he should have been. I continued to zone in on his balloons. I looked back and could not see the 3:45 pacer so I was in good shape. I felt I'd made a smart decision. My hamstring did not hurt. But I wasn't sure why it felt so darn tight! Mile 4-5, the beginning of the long climb. I remember thinking of Mitch and Seth during this part. I also remember my hamstring tightness easing up a bit as the hill got steeper. I was elated that the hill training, combined with the taper was paying off. I was steady and strong on the hill. I marveled at how good I felt and knew everything was going to be ok. The rain was a light mist now and everyone seemed to have a great time. My friend Kim's husband, Joe, who was running the half, caught up to me and we chatted for a bit before he continued to climb up at a faster pace. I remember passing the eight mile mark. Toward the top of the hill there was a fluid station. I realized I had only stopped once for a drink and decided now would be good. The hill was just about over and the hardest part of the marathon, which didn't seem so hard, was going to be behind me. I slowed down and grabbed a cup. As I started to run, pushing my left leg forward, I felt a sudden and severe pain in my left hamstring. I yelled "F%@K" so loudly that the majority of runners turned to look at me. I tried to continue running, as I was just about at the top. I did not know what to do. I had no phone. I had no idea when I would see John. I began to run in hopes that it would work itself out, but it wasn't happening. Miraculously, I saw John. He was cheering and waving with the video camera. I made my way over to him and told him I thought that I had pulled a hamstring. "Come on, I'll run with you" was his response. I started crying and said I could not. I had tried when it first happened but the stabbing pain from behind my leg was something I could not work through for 17 more miles, or in my mind, even 1 more mile. I was now on the sidewalk feeling like I was in a fog. It hit me that it was over. All the training and preparation for this race had come to an abrupt end between miles 8 and 9. I was approached by a Team in Training coach who asked if I needed anything. Then Kathleen stopped and asked if I was ok. I told her what had happened and that I was out of the race. I could not believe that this was happening. I stood there sobbing on the sidewalk as I tried to wrap my brain around my race being over. Thank God for small miracles, such as the car being directly across the street. John and I made our way across the course, and as we did, the 3:45 pacer ran by. Sitting in the warm car hugging my legs on the seat, we made our way back to the start. I don't remember our conversation. I just remember sitting there in complete disbelief. I recall calling my sister Maggie, who I figured was up bright and early in Texas tracking her sister on-line. Nope, I woke the bitch up! Really? Damn it, Mag, I was running a BQ marathon and you are sleeping? Ok, there's another shout out for Maggie. I mean, who cares that she had just brought her sickly newborn baby boy home from the hospital like, the day before or something like that, I WAS RUNNING A MARATHON, for God sakes! All kidding aside, Maggie was really upset for me and I hated making that call to her.
Once we got into downtown, I knew Sarah should be finishing up her half. Sure enough, sitting there in the warm car, John's cell phone rang. I saw Sarah's number and told John to get it. There was just no way I could keep any kind of composure at that moment. "How's she doing?" I could hear her through the silence in the car (iphones... not good for private conversations either). "Well, she is sitting right here with me. She pulled her hamstring and she's out of the race." "Shut up, John. Not funny. How is she doing really??" John is like the boy who cried wolf. He jokes so much, that people really don't know when to take him seriously. "Sarah I'm serious. Here, talk to her." I shot him a glaring look as I took the phone. "Hey Sarah, it's me." "What the HELL? What happened? OH MY GOD! I thought John was just being, well.... JOHN!" I'm pretty sure that was the sequence of her words. I gave the phone back to John so he could tell her where to meet us. Minutes later, Sarah appeared at the car window, soaking wet and draped in her finisher's blanket. She hopped in the car, leaned over and gave me a hug. I suddenly realized SHE had just run the half and said "Tell me how you did." She was reluctant to say that two weeks after kicking ass in Boston, she ran a personal best at the Flying Pig 1/2 Marathon in a time that awarded her 2nd in her age group. Now I felt awful! I wanted to celebrate her accomplishment, but now she was devastated for my race. The situation just sucked, plain and simple.
We made our way to the finish line to meet the many runners that were going to be waiting to see me finish the full. Kim, Vicki, Kevin, Tammy, and Krista all came in little by little. Again, I know Krista got a personal best (which she has since beat in Columbus... YES, I AM A PRO AT RUINING THE GLORIOUS MOMENTS OF OTHERS). I think others did too, but their times are escaping me as all these non-qualifying disastrous races are blending together.
We got home, I said my good-byes to Krista, who was heading back to Columbus and we then got ready to go to my nephew's First Communion. At the First Communion party, there were many Team Mitch members who wanted to know what happened. I recapped the day with a feigned positivity, mostly because I had succeeded in ruining the special day of my friends and their races and I would not do it to my nephew, who should have been the center of attention. I claimed to be "doing ok." In reality, my hamstring hurt, my head hurt and my heart hurt. I wanted nothing more than to go home and go to bed and put the day behind me. Little did I know how much effort "putting that day behind me" would take.
This post is finally coming out of "draft mode", where it has been and revisited for four days. Perhaps the not finishing is what makes the revisit so difficult. I know it is said that with each failure and setback, there are valuable lessons learned. I know this, yet I've still never found the silver lining from that race. Perhaps the lesson of a strong mental mindset learned and practiced this summer is the one I'm to take from the Pig. I don't know. I was told that my body was wound so tightly and so tense that it was no surprise that I suffered a hamstring pull when I had no problems with my hamstrings. I thought that was bullshit when I heard it. I no longer do. More to come on this subject. For now, I'm happy to have this post behind me!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Having a DAMN hard time...
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| This is from the 2010 Columbus Marathon. But displays some very important bits of information about my motivation. |
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Running Again!
I felt like a teenager trying to sneak out. As I quietly stumbled around my dark room this morning, trying so hard not to wake John, I began to get the pieces I needed out of my drawers. A sports bra, running socks, and tights, followed by a trip to the closet for a long sleeve running shirt, fleece pull over and my new reflective vest that I had yet to wear. And then came my new running shoes that I had only worn twice. I tiptoed into the bathroom and got dressed. Standing there, looking in the mirror, I noticed that I looked a little different in my running tights than I did last winter or maybe I just wasn't used to the winter look yet. Regardless, I stood there for a second staring at what I hadn't seen in such a long time. In the grand scheme of an injury, six weeks is not a long time. But to a running addict, it is a lifetime. I walked over to John's side of the bed and tapped him. He looked up and said "I thought you weren't going to..... oh nevermind, be careful." He pulled the covers back over his head and turned over. He has been trained quite well.
Yesterday I had my first good run, or "breakthrough" since the marathon. I ran two miles on the treadmill at the gym and had no pain.... this is different from my trail run in the park. I did feel what I would consider a dull ache (though I hate to even use that term because it indicates pain) but it would not even have a place on my 1-10 pain scale. I think it is just a bit sensitive in that area, but I believe things have healed. I also believe they may be a bit fragile, which was why I stopped at two miles when I so wanted to go three. Easing back into it is the name of the game. No speedwork or hills for a few more weeks, but I will begin running on the treadmill. That was yesterday's plan.
I waited all day for the familiar "ache" that I was sure would accompany my treadmill run. It never came. Up and down the steps, cleaning and decorating for Christmas. Nothing. Again, so different from my trail run. I made sure I rolled my calf and stretched really well yesterday. I have been diligently doing all the things I feel will help get me back to running sooner. I 100% believe they are working. Often times, we feel better and we stop doing all interventions... then we feel bad again. I'm not going to do that this time.
This morning I couldn't help myself. The running addict took over and the voice of reason stayed quite. I decided I would do my flat 4 mile run to the library and back. I would go easy and back off if I felt like it was too much. I slipped on my Garmin (clue number 1 that my intention was not to go easy) and headed out the door for my first run of the season with running gloves and a headband for warmth. First thing I noticed was the brilliant sky and all the stars. I felt the cold air on my face and noticed the Christmas lights that many neighbors had put up and left on all night. It was beautiful. I was also keenly aware of my left calf, trying to be completely in tuned to how it was feeling. It felt very similar to the day before. I had a nice easy warm-up mile and the calf stayed status quo. Without realizing it, I was beginning to run a bit faster... probably because I was well caffeinated and warmed up. Miles 2 and 3 were wonderful and swift. I felt like the runner I was before the marathon. By the 4th mile, I think my body started to remember that it had been awhile so I slowed the pace and cruised on home. Once home, I took my walking cool down lap around the circle. The calf felt ok. I may have pushed it a bit too much too soon during those two middle miles, but once inside and nicely stretched, rolled and compressed, I am feeling nothing. I've popped a few vitamins (ibuprofen... which is probably what requires me to take Prilosec on a daily basis) and now I just wait to see what comes from this run. I hope I am reasonable enough to realize I should not be doing this every day. I hope I have enough good sense and restraint to stick to a few treadmill runs only this week and not flirt with what could cause another big setback. I will try to recall how awesome it felt to be out there again and realize just how much I do not want to screw it up!
Yesterday I had my first good run, or "breakthrough" since the marathon. I ran two miles on the treadmill at the gym and had no pain.... this is different from my trail run in the park. I did feel what I would consider a dull ache (though I hate to even use that term because it indicates pain) but it would not even have a place on my 1-10 pain scale. I think it is just a bit sensitive in that area, but I believe things have healed. I also believe they may be a bit fragile, which was why I stopped at two miles when I so wanted to go three. Easing back into it is the name of the game. No speedwork or hills for a few more weeks, but I will begin running on the treadmill. That was yesterday's plan.
I waited all day for the familiar "ache" that I was sure would accompany my treadmill run. It never came. Up and down the steps, cleaning and decorating for Christmas. Nothing. Again, so different from my trail run. I made sure I rolled my calf and stretched really well yesterday. I have been diligently doing all the things I feel will help get me back to running sooner. I 100% believe they are working. Often times, we feel better and we stop doing all interventions... then we feel bad again. I'm not going to do that this time.
This morning I couldn't help myself. The running addict took over and the voice of reason stayed quite. I decided I would do my flat 4 mile run to the library and back. I would go easy and back off if I felt like it was too much. I slipped on my Garmin (clue number 1 that my intention was not to go easy) and headed out the door for my first run of the season with running gloves and a headband for warmth. First thing I noticed was the brilliant sky and all the stars. I felt the cold air on my face and noticed the Christmas lights that many neighbors had put up and left on all night. It was beautiful. I was also keenly aware of my left calf, trying to be completely in tuned to how it was feeling. It felt very similar to the day before. I had a nice easy warm-up mile and the calf stayed status quo. Without realizing it, I was beginning to run a bit faster... probably because I was well caffeinated and warmed up. Miles 2 and 3 were wonderful and swift. I felt like the runner I was before the marathon. By the 4th mile, I think my body started to remember that it had been awhile so I slowed the pace and cruised on home. Once home, I took my walking cool down lap around the circle. The calf felt ok. I may have pushed it a bit too much too soon during those two middle miles, but once inside and nicely stretched, rolled and compressed, I am feeling nothing. I've popped a few vitamins (ibuprofen... which is probably what requires me to take Prilosec on a daily basis) and now I just wait to see what comes from this run. I hope I am reasonable enough to realize I should not be doing this every day. I hope I have enough good sense and restraint to stick to a few treadmill runs only this week and not flirt with what could cause another big setback. I will try to recall how awesome it felt to be out there again and realize just how much I do not want to screw it up!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
The meeting of new friends
With the beginning of the running club and Pig training in full swing, I began to break out of my previous training routine. I was now posting runs that would begin at 5:30 a.m. in hopes of gaining a little company. Let me tell you, this time was not popular a year ago. At least not for members of the Harrison Running Club. On most occasions (and for the first part of training), only Ryan would show up in the Kroger parking lot to run with me. When I say "with", I really mean "ahead". Don't get me wrong. This was good for my training. We'd start out together, but Ryan had much loftier finishing goals than I did. I wanted a qualifier, he wanted a sub 3 hour marathon. Even the most positive of attitudes could not have gotten me that time (Ok, yes, since I always say you can do ANYTHING you put your mind to, I'll say this... sure I could get a sub 3 hour marathon if I move to Oregon and join the Nike Oregon Project Team and eat, drink and sleep running and training. But it ain't gonna happen). I would usually trail Ryan closely for roughly 2 miles and then he'd just smoke me. Often times I'd get back to the parking lot and he'd be gone already. Ok, to some that sounds rude. But it wasn't. Ryan is married with 5 young boys. His wife is a nurse that works day shift. He had to be back home early! The other thing I made clear, and I think is very important to make clear when training with someone, is that we each have different goals. If we all run the same pace during every run, we could hurt our aspirations. If that pace is consistently too fast, we risk burnout and injury. Too slow, we risk not meeting our goals. When running with Ryan, my goal would be to see how long I could keep up and how close I could stay. It pushed me and since it wasn't on every single run, it wasn't risky. It was beneficial.
At the end of January, my brother invited me to run with the Westside group on Wednesdays. The group met at 5:15 a.m. at the Gamble Nippert YMCA for what was described in their schedule as a "hard hill run". Now knowing that this group always ran hills, then seeing them describe this as "hard", made me a bit hesitant to join them. BUT, I was training for the Pig (hilly) and I knew I had to break out of my comfort zone to get, well, comfortable running hills. So I agreed. I pitched the idea to Ryan and Sarah about joining me. Ryan was on board, Sarah laughed at the idea of getting up so ridiculously early (which she does daily now). That first Wednesday, Ryan and I left Harrison at 4:45 and headed to Western Hills. When we got there, there were about 6 or 7 runners that day. My brother Jack was one of them. I also remember Hal and Sarah (Kessler) and a couple of others. Hal and Sarah stick out because they were there pretty consistently during the weeks that followed and because they always led the pack. I learned they weren't kidding when they described the run as "hard". I took the short 5.5 mile route with my brother, who, thank God, had to be back to get ready for work. Ryan opted for the additional 3 miles that continued on. I waited inside the warm YMCA waiting until he was done. That run took me 5 plus miles of short, steep hills... both up and down. It was crazy exhausting and I was in the back. It's never fun to be last, but I knew it was a means to better my running. So I kept at it. Every week I got up at 3:45 (Yes, I need an hour to wake up and prepare my mind and body for the torture) to meet the group. For the first several weeks, Ryan joined me. Unfortunately, Ryan developed a calf injury and could not continue training (STUPID CALVES!!). I would drive out there alone and run, mostly alone, as I trailed behind. I always dreaded Tuesday nights and tried to think of excuses not to go. Fortunately, I had none good enough to stop going.
These Wednesday runs were very difficult. Both mentally and physically. But I believe them to be the key to my improvement during training. They toughened me. My ego took some pretty big blows on many of those runs as I trailed the group. But week after week, I was getting closer and staying with them a bit longer. Sarah and I were meeting for our long runs on Sundays. We would usually meet for a pretty hilly run... in prep for our races. She for Boston, me for the Pig. We were not very successful in recruiting our new running club members to join us on these runs... particularly one that took us on Strimple Road in Harrison (very hilly... but great for training). On one occasion, we had three very good runners meet us for part of a 17 or 18 mile Strimple Road run. They were Amy Ritter, Barbara Walker and Amy Engel. Amy R. met us for the first part.. the run to Strimple, then back tracked to get less mileage. Barbara and Amy Engel met us after Strimple (smart ladies). I had met Barbara at a 10k benefitting her kids' school that previous Labor Day. I had won first in my age group and she in hers and while waiting for the awards, I noticed she was from Harrison. So I approached her (runners are a very bold and friendly bunch by the way... I think they are drawn to people who also "get it") and we chatted for awhile. It wasn't until later that I learned Barbara (as well as Amy E.) had not only completed marathons, but also Ironman triathlons.
On a few occasions, I did meet other group members, whom I already knew through the kids' school, for some 5:30 runs. They included Nickke, Kim, Nancy, Rose and Angie. None of them were training for the full marathon, but Kim and Nancy were training for half. Because our mileage differed, I'd sometimes run the first part of my run alone and then meet them for the rest. It worked nicely. Rose and Angie were just beginning to test out the running world. Nickke was returning after having a baby and Kim and Nancy were not beginners. We had quite the mix and it was great fun and good company. I really enjoyed running with a group without having the hour round trip.
One morning, Nancy, Kim and I were running early. As we were getting close to finishing, a runner came up behind us and stopped to ask if we ran together often and if we were training for something. Now I had passed this runner for years during many early morning alone runs. She was a tiny little "girl" with a distinct stride because she ran on her toes. She always seemed to wear a ball cap and I always noticed that she was pretty darn quick. I wondered who she was, but never did more than smile, wave and pass by. That morning, the cute little mystery runner was revealed. Her name was Suttan and she was training for her first Boston Marathon. Suttan had qualified that fall in Columbus, the same race of my first attempt. She always ran alone, but was hoping to connect with others in her training. I let her know that I had a friend (Sarah) also training for Boston and that I was training for the Pig and that she was welcome to join us anytime. I let her know about the running club Facebook group and told her I'd hoped to meet up soon.
I didn't see Suttan much that spring. She had to cater to an injury that was risking her Boston race (which, by the way, she beat her Columbus time and qualified again in Boston), but I did keep in touch were her through Facebook. It wasn't really until this summer, when I lured her out to a couple of those Wednesday hill runs in Western Hills, that we started running together. Suttan is an awesome runner and an equally awesome person. I am very lucky to have met her!
What I have yet to mention in this rambling post is what was happening in my head. Again, the beginning of training was filled with optimism, hope and excitement. But old habits die hard. As the weeks clicked by I knew I had to rein in the nerves, but I didn't know how. I would constantly check my Garmin stats on my computer and say "You are fine. Your times are better than the last training cycle. You are running on hills, you are busting your ass. You are going to do this." It would calm me... until the next time, which was soon after. And I'd look it all over again and tell myself all the same things. I made myself believe I was confident this time. I actually tricked myself into thinking it. You can make yourself believe many things. Even lies. And unfortunately, that was happening. I was stronger, better and faster. I was also much better at covering up my fear as the days to the marathon drew near. I began to obsess over the weather. Why? I love running in the rain. I ran in snow, ice, and rain during the spring. Why was the weather bothering me so much? Because the fear that I denied existed needed to be channeled somewhere and the weather became the perfect scapegoat.
At the end of January, my brother invited me to run with the Westside group on Wednesdays. The group met at 5:15 a.m. at the Gamble Nippert YMCA for what was described in their schedule as a "hard hill run". Now knowing that this group always ran hills, then seeing them describe this as "hard", made me a bit hesitant to join them. BUT, I was training for the Pig (hilly) and I knew I had to break out of my comfort zone to get, well, comfortable running hills. So I agreed. I pitched the idea to Ryan and Sarah about joining me. Ryan was on board, Sarah laughed at the idea of getting up so ridiculously early (which she does daily now). That first Wednesday, Ryan and I left Harrison at 4:45 and headed to Western Hills. When we got there, there were about 6 or 7 runners that day. My brother Jack was one of them. I also remember Hal and Sarah (Kessler) and a couple of others. Hal and Sarah stick out because they were there pretty consistently during the weeks that followed and because they always led the pack. I learned they weren't kidding when they described the run as "hard". I took the short 5.5 mile route with my brother, who, thank God, had to be back to get ready for work. Ryan opted for the additional 3 miles that continued on. I waited inside the warm YMCA waiting until he was done. That run took me 5 plus miles of short, steep hills... both up and down. It was crazy exhausting and I was in the back. It's never fun to be last, but I knew it was a means to better my running. So I kept at it. Every week I got up at 3:45 (Yes, I need an hour to wake up and prepare my mind and body for the torture) to meet the group. For the first several weeks, Ryan joined me. Unfortunately, Ryan developed a calf injury and could not continue training (STUPID CALVES!!). I would drive out there alone and run, mostly alone, as I trailed behind. I always dreaded Tuesday nights and tried to think of excuses not to go. Fortunately, I had none good enough to stop going.
These Wednesday runs were very difficult. Both mentally and physically. But I believe them to be the key to my improvement during training. They toughened me. My ego took some pretty big blows on many of those runs as I trailed the group. But week after week, I was getting closer and staying with them a bit longer. Sarah and I were meeting for our long runs on Sundays. We would usually meet for a pretty hilly run... in prep for our races. She for Boston, me for the Pig. We were not very successful in recruiting our new running club members to join us on these runs... particularly one that took us on Strimple Road in Harrison (very hilly... but great for training). On one occasion, we had three very good runners meet us for part of a 17 or 18 mile Strimple Road run. They were Amy Ritter, Barbara Walker and Amy Engel. Amy R. met us for the first part.. the run to Strimple, then back tracked to get less mileage. Barbara and Amy Engel met us after Strimple (smart ladies). I had met Barbara at a 10k benefitting her kids' school that previous Labor Day. I had won first in my age group and she in hers and while waiting for the awards, I noticed she was from Harrison. So I approached her (runners are a very bold and friendly bunch by the way... I think they are drawn to people who also "get it") and we chatted for awhile. It wasn't until later that I learned Barbara (as well as Amy E.) had not only completed marathons, but also Ironman triathlons.
On a few occasions, I did meet other group members, whom I already knew through the kids' school, for some 5:30 runs. They included Nickke, Kim, Nancy, Rose and Angie. None of them were training for the full marathon, but Kim and Nancy were training for half. Because our mileage differed, I'd sometimes run the first part of my run alone and then meet them for the rest. It worked nicely. Rose and Angie were just beginning to test out the running world. Nickke was returning after having a baby and Kim and Nancy were not beginners. We had quite the mix and it was great fun and good company. I really enjoyed running with a group without having the hour round trip.
One morning, Nancy, Kim and I were running early. As we were getting close to finishing, a runner came up behind us and stopped to ask if we ran together often and if we were training for something. Now I had passed this runner for years during many early morning alone runs. She was a tiny little "girl" with a distinct stride because she ran on her toes. She always seemed to wear a ball cap and I always noticed that she was pretty darn quick. I wondered who she was, but never did more than smile, wave and pass by. That morning, the cute little mystery runner was revealed. Her name was Suttan and she was training for her first Boston Marathon. Suttan had qualified that fall in Columbus, the same race of my first attempt. She always ran alone, but was hoping to connect with others in her training. I let her know that I had a friend (Sarah) also training for Boston and that I was training for the Pig and that she was welcome to join us anytime. I let her know about the running club Facebook group and told her I'd hoped to meet up soon.
I didn't see Suttan much that spring. She had to cater to an injury that was risking her Boston race (which, by the way, she beat her Columbus time and qualified again in Boston), but I did keep in touch were her through Facebook. It wasn't really until this summer, when I lured her out to a couple of those Wednesday hill runs in Western Hills, that we started running together. Suttan is an awesome runner and an equally awesome person. I am very lucky to have met her!
What I have yet to mention in this rambling post is what was happening in my head. Again, the beginning of training was filled with optimism, hope and excitement. But old habits die hard. As the weeks clicked by I knew I had to rein in the nerves, but I didn't know how. I would constantly check my Garmin stats on my computer and say "You are fine. Your times are better than the last training cycle. You are running on hills, you are busting your ass. You are going to do this." It would calm me... until the next time, which was soon after. And I'd look it all over again and tell myself all the same things. I made myself believe I was confident this time. I actually tricked myself into thinking it. You can make yourself believe many things. Even lies. And unfortunately, that was happening. I was stronger, better and faster. I was also much better at covering up my fear as the days to the marathon drew near. I began to obsess over the weather. Why? I love running in the rain. I ran in snow, ice, and rain during the spring. Why was the weather bothering me so much? Because the fear that I denied existed needed to be channeled somewhere and the weather became the perfect scapegoat.
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