Tomorrow's the big day

I'm leaving work at noon today to head up to Timothy Lake. I'm camping with a bunch of friends up there tonight, and running the marathon tomorrow! I'm supremely lucky to have such a great group of friends, who'll tramp up and down Oregon to watch me race. :-)

I'm not really nervous about the run. I went up two weeks ago and did the whole thing, to see if I could make the time cut-off. I did! And it really wasn't too bad. (If I was running, I would never do the whole course just two weeks before the real deal, but since I'm run-walk-shuffling, and it's on trails, I figured it wouldn't be too hard on my body.) I felt good even after driving the ninety minutes home, and the day after the dry run I was barely stiff at all. One interesting thing I tried on the practice run was to listen to music. I did about half the course without it, and then pulled out my iPod. It helped pass the time, for sure. I'd love to find another slowpoke to talk to during the race, but if I don't I will be plugging in ye olde ear phones.

I'm looking forward to knocking this one out and then taking a few months off to let my Achilles get all better. It's definitely on the road to better right now, but it's been flaring up now and then. Once this race is over I'm going to baby the hell out of it until the new year.

Yup, still here.

Still planning to show up at the start line for Timberline. But I'll be prepared to stay on the course for six or seven hours rather than four.

In some ways walking a marathon seems more daunting than running. You're on the course a lot longer, and being at the back of the pack must wreck havoc on motivation. Yet I really can't take it as seriously as I've taken running marathons. I'm only walking twice or occasionally three times a week (though of course that isn't really true – I walk two miles a day getting to and from work). And one of those is a 3-mile loop around the waterfront at lunchtime. With five and a half weeks to go I've only gotten up to 18.5 miles walking. (That was last weekend on the Hunchback trail – pictures below.) I suppose it's because I think of it "only" walking. I do wonder if this marathon is going to school me.

Suppose I'll have to wait and see. I'm planning on getting in two 20+ miles hikes before the 19th, so I'll be marginally better prepared. At least I've been enjoying my time on the trails.

Pictures from last weekend:

Update

I'm going to try some light jogging on the treadmill after work today. Fingers crossed, toes crossed, eyes crossed, etc. that my tendon cooperates. I'm actually quite nervous. I've been RICE-ing the thing religiously and haven't run in nine days. (ACK!) If it isn't feeling better today it will definitely be time to visit Dr. Awesome, aka my chiropractor. I emailed my GP (aka Dr. Useless) last week and he was (one guess) useless. I'm trying very hard to keep perspective and not freak out about skipping all these runs, but man it's hard.

I had been semi-planning on doing the Autumn Leaves 50k after Timberline. If I can start running easy again after today I might stick to that plan. But if not it seems wise to take it off the table. In any case I'll be planning a hiatus from racing for a while after this fall. (Famous last words, right?) I enjoy running, but I hate feeling nervous and fail-y when I have to skip runs, even for a good reason. It's extra stress I really don't need in my life. It's nice to have a running goal, but when it starts causing more misery than motivation its time to reevaluate.

Catch ya later

Hard to be upset when the forecast looks like that. I'm off to have fun!

GODDAMIT

I have some mild tendonitis in my right Achilles. Sigh. Whatever was bothering my calf has migrated south. I have a feeling it was the addition of speedwork into my routine, but regardless of the reason it both sucks and blows. God bless the internets for allowing me to do some dubious scientific research and figure out that the worst thing to do would be to run on it. So I gritted my teeth and skipped yesterday's run. Instead I rode the stationary bike at the gym for an hour and was rewarded with a terribly sore ass this morning.

Now I have to figure out what to do with myself tomorrow. Here’s the thing:
I need I'm supposed to run 20 this weekend. I know that it won't kill me to not run twenty. In fact, in the grand scheme of things I know that never being able to run again wouldn’t kill me (though it might make me get fat, which is, of course, a fate worse than death). I know that I have to be smart here, and not aggravate the tendonitis and make it a true problem. I'd like to try running, but I'm afraid I'd have to stop right away, meaning I don't want to drive all the way down to Champoeg only to turn right around. But I don't want to try and run on like, asphalt either – not real forgiving. I could always run on the track, but can you imagine? 80 laps?? Good lord. But sadly, that might be the best option. It's close to home, flat, and forgiving. Of course, really…really I should probably not run at all. (AAAAARRRRRGGGHHHHNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO) The tendon is feeling a lot better, a lot less tender to the pinch test. But still tender. Really, I should take the weekend off. I should. Really. Just not run this weekend. Just not run. I shouldn't run.


...My god, I'm a total addict.

Zigzag Mountain trail run

Another gorgeous trail run. I headed due east out of town this time, heading straight toward the mountain. About a mile off Highway 26 I found the trailhead and got started. I had planned a 20-mile loop, and was carrying LOTS of water and food in my pack. I didn't know how far I would actually get, though, since I had 4th of July plans and needed to get back to my car by three-ish.

The trail started with an extended series of switchbacks - snooze. Also, wheeze. The first five miles (all switchbacks) gained about 4500' in elevation. I ran about 40% of this section. After the switchbacks the trail opened up a little bit. I was still in the trees, crossing back and forth over the top of the ridge. Above about 3000' the rhododendrons were still blooming:

I finally cleared the trees and got a great view to the southwest. There were all sorts of wildflowers out once the trees thinned. I also got to the top of a ridge and saw this great rock formation. It's hard to tell from this angle, but if you were to get closer to the edge you could look straight down several thousand feet - the area I was standing on was an overhang. Needless to say, I stayed well back. I crossed around to the north side again and got a great view of three other Cascade peaks. They don't show well in the photo, but L-R it's St. Helens, Rainier, and Adams. At this point I knew that I must be getting pretty close to Mt. Hood and would have an amazing view. But the trail was basically pointing right at the summit, so as long as I was climbing and crossing the ridge I wouldn't get a view. Ho hum. I kept running, dropping down a bit along the north side. Finally I could see a break in the trees up ahead:

Hello there! Let's go in the for the close-up.

Ahhh. Pay dirt. I kept going another couple of miles, until it was time to turn around. Didn't make it to the loop, so I made it an out-and-back, taking a few more pictures of wildflowers on the way.

I had about five and a half hours to spend trail running. The switchbacks had eaten up a lot of time heading up, but I hoped to make it up going back down. I started running at 9:15, turned around at noon, and made it back to the car at 2:03. So what took me 2:45 to climb up, took 2:03 to climb down (and that included two potty breaks - I was well-hydrated this time). I could've continued running for another few miles and still made it back by 3. Good to know - next time I'll have a better understanding of how much faster the downhills can be. Oh, and just because trail running is easier on the body doesn't mean that 5 miles of downhill switchbacks are "easy". My quads were cooperative but unhappy. Good practice, though, since Timberline loses 3000' of elevation along the course.

Of course, the requisite dirty foot shot:

Rockin'.

*

Despite last weekend's near-tragedy, I've been having a lot of fun with this training. It's really nice to look forward to a long run itself - not "getting it done" or putting in the distance, but the actual experience of running. And since trail running forces you to use all sorts of different muscles and take breaks for downed trees, bad footing, steep bits, etc., I haven't been nearly as sore. I've kind of fallen back in love with running, after being totally sick of it near the end of training for Newport. Hurrah!

Twin Lakes: Interrupted; or How I Nearly Became a Darwin-Award Nominee

Yeah. The scoreboard of Saturday's trail run would read: Trails 1, Becca 0 (although I didn't actually die, so maybe it would be a tie instead). Basically, through my own stupidity I almost got in real trouble. And I didn't even get to see a single lake, let alone Twins! Here's what happened:
Good friend and running buddy Tina got to my house around 7:45. We took off south toward Bull of the Woods wilderness area in Mt. Hood National Forest. I will definitely be heading back there this summer – the drive from my house to the ranger station was easy and gorgeous. Classic Oregon brochure scenery: the rushing, rocky Clackamas river surrounded by steep, green mountain walls; and every time we crested a ridge there were views of dozens of green foothills fading into the horizon. And that was just the drive! I was excited.

Trying to find the Whetstone Mountain trailhead (above) was an adventure. We got on unpaved FR 7020 and drove….and drove…and drove. At one point we saw relatively fresh horse manure and figured we must be close to the trail, only to turn a corner and see a wild horse – seriously! It was a bit creepy really, and I kept expecting it to crash out of the brush in front of my car. Mount Hood isn't know for its wild horses, so we asked the rangers on the way out what the scoop was. Apparently, horses escape from local towns every now and then and make their way up into the mountains. They were very interested in our report and had us locate on the map approximately where we saw it.

Rhododendrons

Eventually we found the trailhead, about half an hour later than planned. Tina is a bit slower than I am, and she was only planning on 12 miles while I wanted to make 16, so I got started before her. At first I tried to jog up at least part of the uphills, knowing full well I wouldn't be running up all of them at 4500'-6000' of elevation. I ran all the flats and downhills unless the footing was uncertain. I'd guesstimate that I ran about 75% of the length of the trail, which translated to about 60% of the time I spent on the trail, as the lengths I had to walk obviously took a lot longer to get through.

The trail was overgrown in parts

The weather was perfect, although I was surprised how hot it was given our elevation. High seventies or 80 degrees, I'd guess. I was drinking water responsibly, and was thirstier than I'd expected. That, unfortunately, was the problem. Normally when I'm running 16 miles I would fill all four bottles of my fuel belt, totaling 32 ounces, and that would be sufficient. But if I was planning to hike 16 miles, I would have brought at least 64 ounces of water. I don't know why I thought the lesser amount would suffice, but I left the car with only about 40 ounces of water. And I didn't pay close attention to how much water I had left until I turned around and realized that I had to run all the way back with about 12 ounces of water. I immediately realized what a stupid decision I had made and hurried to try and catch up with Tina, who had turned around earlier than me.

Lots of nice views of the lumpy, slightly homlier side of Mt. Hood

Well, long story short(er), I managed to crawl back to the car, but only because I swallowed my pride (or it evaporated out of me) and begged water off another lady on the trail. If I hadn't passed her, I am sure that I would have either given in and drunk from the next stream I passed (in which case I'd probably still be huddled close to a toilet somewhere) or lost my mind and done something dangerous.

The sky was so blue it seemed almost purple - the camera didn't get it

Could I have died? Hiking or trail running always carries risks, of course. Probably not of dehydration in this case, as Tina would have come to find me eventually. But I had gotten to the point that I wasn't thinking clearly, increasing the likelihood that I would do something terminally dumb. Plus, I spent the entire second half of the run preoccupied with how dehydrated I was getting, rather than enjoying being out in nature. I'm just very angry at myself – I like to think I'm a pretty smart cookie but you wouldn't know it from this. Anyway, I made it back to the car, slowly drank a ton of water, and went to bed at 7:30. I could not make myself eat that night, so I was famished the next morning and promptly ate everything in site, washed down with about 100 ounces of Propel. After that I felt pretty much fine. I consider it a lesson very well learned.

Dirty and scratched up and happy to be alive!

Oh, and why didn't I see the Twin Lakes? I missed the marker. Tina did too, so I don't feel bad about it. :-)

I kind of loved intervals last night.

Who knew? I would've loved them more if not for some nagging pain in my right calf. I'm hoping it's nothing serious…I rested up so much after Newport because I wanted to get rid of these nagging pains. Why does the universe never listen?

Anyway, intervals = fun, at least when you aren't timing yourself or pushing so hard you melvin. I couldn’t find my watch last night, and the calf kept me from going balls-to-the-wall, so I had somewhat leisurely 4x1K intervals with 400m rest. I did ramp up my speed considerably during the intervals, and really wanted to stop at the end of the fourth one, but didn't kill myself. Again, I'm trying to enjoy my training more this go-round, not necessarily get faster or hit a time goal. I liked the intervals because I wasn't so focused on how long I'd been running (i.e. how soon can I stop). It broke up the monotony of a flat six mile run and actually made it enjoyable. Plus it was nice to run on the track, outside, in the sun. Happiness.

Today I took a free weights class at the gym during lunch. I LOVE and ADORE and HATE this class. Like a lot of women I feel self-conscious using the free weight area on my own because it's full of grunting, sweaty guys making odd faces and checking themselves out. (And what is with those sleeveless shirts where the arms holes sag down to their belly button? Flank cleavage, not so great actually.) This class is held in the group exercise room separate from the weight floor and run by this tiny woman who must have about 2 percent body fat. She pushes and pushes and pushes until we're all trembling and broken and full of hate. It's awesome. I would never on my own find the motivation to work so hard.

First trail run of the season! With mixed results

First of all, Powell Butte is gorgeous. Totally, amazingly beautiful. As I was confronted with one striking view after another I really wished I'd brought a camera (pic above from flickr - one of the "domesticated" trails). It didn't hurt that all the wildflowers were blooming, and the mountains kept ducking in and out of the scattered clouds. I was reminded of why I decided to move out here in the first place.

The run itself wasn't great. The trails on Powell Butte all loop back on each other making it hard to track mileage, so I was thinking I'd just lope around for 2.5 hours. Well, I made it an hour and forty minutes. Fail. I probably should've realized I'd never make it ~15 miles on the first trail run of the year, in new shoes, while nursing a sake hangover (NEVER AGAIN!) and battling dehydration. Um, duh? How long have I been running?? Sometimes I wonder about myself. Anyway I'm just going to move on and work on improving this week. Today is 30-40 minutes on the stair master (my arch-nemesis! hiss!) and boat practice. Tuesday I try intervals – kind of dreading it. Okay, really dreading it. There is a track right around the corner from my house, so I'm going to head home after work and put off going as long as possible. Oh wait, no, I mean, "get right to it". I really hope the middle school marching band isn't practicing there Tuesday nights this year.

I'm curious to see how well I do under this training plan. Hopefully I will stay nagging-ache-free, which will be a vast improvement. But a big part of why I didn't plan a full fall marathon last year was that summertime equals overbooked for me -could be difficult to fit in the required cross-training. I think (sigh) I will have to start bike commuting again. I live far enough away from work that it could be my cross-training Mondays and Wednesdays. Here's the thing though…don't tell anyone… I don't really like bike commuting. (In Portland that's tantamount to sacrilege.) A couple of reasons: it's long enough that I work up a sweat both ways (although obviously more so on the way home since its about 40 degrees warmer) so I have to get to work with time enough to shower; there is a weird woman who is always in the showers at the same time as I am and it makes me uncomfortable (she's SO unfriendly!); and I don't like getting stressed out (by cars passing too close or running stop signs, inconsiderate cyclists, super-fast down hills, dogs, buses, dump trucks, street corners full of seasonal workers with nothing better to do than leer, etc.) before I even get to work.

Oh yeah, one more thing. New shoes! I mentioned it in passing, but here they be:

The Salomon XT Whisper. So far so good. I very rarely get blisters (KNOCK ON WOOD EXTREMELY HARD) so no issues there. The back half of the sole is thicker than I'm used to, but that's not a big deal on trails since they really force you to hit with your forefoot. The only possible issue for me is the tongue. The shoe has one of those pulley-deals that tightens the laces for you. You then tuck the pulley mechanism and the excess lace into a little pouch in the tongue. It ended up bulging enough to occasionally rub against the skin right above the shoe a few times when I was heading up a steep incline. It wasn't too bad on this run, but on longer outings it might drive me insane. We'll see this weekend, when I head out to Bull Mountain for 16 miles.

Better late than never, right?

Three days after Newport I flew home to NY for work & a few vacation days, so I'm just now getting around to a race report. Overall I had a great weekend, and would recommend Newport to pretty much anyone.

I took a half-day at work and carpooled out to the coast with my friend Sandy. She spent the night camping with a bunch of other friends that night at Beverly Beach, while I opted for a real bed and a quiet night at the Shilo Inn. (Totally the right call!) I drank a ton of water and mindlessly watched TV to calm down. I had no problem getting to sleep around 10, and woke up at 5:15 am relatively bright and cheery. I got all packed up and checked out, and made it to the Embarcadero Resort by ten after six. The Embarcadero is the finish line of the marathon; there were shuttle buses to the start line about a mile and half away. My hotel was actually quite close to the start, but there was no way to get back to the start from the finish. So rather than worry about it, I just parked at the finish (whew, tired already).

I met up with Tina and Dan to catch a shuttle to the start. It was chilly but I was comfortable enough in shorts and t-shirt. The ocean was theoretically to our left, but thick fog socked in the entire point. About 800 people lined up at the start. I was ready to go but seven AM came and went with no horn…just more time to get nervous. Eep. I was glad I knew the majority of the course, but still…26.2 miles is a long way. Why do I do this again?

Before I could sneak away and hide the horn went off. There were no timing chips, but it only took about 20 seconds to cross the start. The first five miles or so are made up of rolling hills as you go down to the water and back up toward Highway 101 in Newport. It wasn't terribly scenic, as the ocean was still M.I.A. and we were running behind houses and hotels. I found my first pace bunny at this point, a tiny little woman wearing a Maniacs singlet. I unobtrusively mimicked her pace. Soon we looped around past the starting point and down to the boardwalk. We headed up the one "major" hill in front of the Embarcadero and then were on the Bay Road proper, our home for the next ~20 miles. Right after the hill I started chatting with my Maniac pacer, and a few other ladies who'd settled in around us. I don't really remember most of it, just general marathon chat. We were doing around 8:50/min miles. Knowing I would slow down in the second half, I figured that would still be good for an under-four hour finish. As I told one of the ladies, I really just wanted to finish feeling good and happy. I lost most of them around mile 11 when I grabbed a cup of HEED on the go rather than stop.

I was glad to have people to talk to, because miles 7 through 9 are the ones I struggle with the most. By that point I've started to get tired, but there is nothing to "celebrate" yet – I haven't made it halfway, or even to the double digits. Thinking of the miles or time I have left is just depressing, as is trying to imagine passing these same landmarks again on the way back, two hours from now. Ugh. Miles 11-17 (the turnaround) are a blur…I honestly don't remember much. Once we got away from the ocean the fog lifted and it was a beautiful day, sunny and warm. Around mile 15 the lead runners starting passing us coming back. My lower back started to hurt, which was odd – I don't normally have any back problems. Luckily it didn't get beyond a vague ache. I also got a butt cramp – WTF? I've never in my life gotten a literal pain in my ass. Weird. It was totally bearable, and went away after a few minutes, but still weird.

I got something of a second wind after the turnaround, always pleasant. I'd say that carried me through to about 21-22, at which point I went on autopilot. One foot in front of the other. Motivational strategies: "Just a typical lunch-time run left;" "Just a quick run to 148th and back left;" "ONLY TWO G-D MILES LEFT". I did actually find myself saying "living in a VAN down by the RIVER" a couple of times. Awesome.

I lucked out at the end of the marathon. I'd been sticking with an older woman, not letting her getting too far ahead of me. About two miles out her boyfriend met her to pace her in to the finish. I let him pace me in too, of course! That definitely kept me from fading in the home stretch. I made sure to thank them in the finisher's area.

The last .2 miles is a steep downhill, which actually sucked. My quads were dead, and I didn't want to risk any knee issues by taking it too fast. I tried to find my friends at the finish as I came around the corner but there was a pretty big crowd. I could see the clock as I entered the chute. 3:57! Yay! My immediate need was for water. Water water water. I'd been careful to get a full drink of water or HEED at each aid station and sip from my fuel belt, up until the last four or so miles. At that point I just couldn’t stand the thought of water or HEED or Gatorade, or anything other than "FINISH LINE, KEEP MOVING, FINISH LINE, KEEP MOVING."

I showered and hung out with Tina and Dan (and got my yummy finisher's beer) until after the awards ceremony. (I won a raffle prize! A giant bottle of Hammer Gel, woohoo!) The rest of the weekend I spent sitting and/or shuffling around the campground. Oh and eating, of couse. Good times.

I took a couple of things away from this race. One, I'd really like to try a marathon without my fuel belt. That thing just cramps my style. I'm always aware that it's on, and jostling, and I never even finish the Gatorade. I'm contemplating buying a hand-held bottle. Second, I need to figure out how to get more even split times in the big M. I don't hit the wall exactly. It's more like each mile from 18 on hands me a brick that slows me down by 5 seconds. I sort of putter out.

Next up is the Timberline Marathon September 19th. Technically I should've started training last week, but I'm not running until this Saturday, when I'll head up to Powell Butte for 15 miles. I've been doing the Stairmaster, elliptical, weight training, etc., just not running. I did a couple of quick 3-5 mile runs the week after Newport and felt pretty good. I just don't want to push it. Timberline is going to be an experi-marathon. I'm using a three-day program with FIVE twenty-milers (yikes). The distance doesn't worry me though, because I'll never run two days in a row – goodbye overuse problems! Also, I'm going to try to do all my long runs either on trails or at elevation in preparation. (I already know one 20-miler will be on pavement at sea level, because I'll be in Victoria, BC that weekend.) We'll see. I'm looking forward to getting in some great trail runs around the area, and having the freedom to have fun this summer and not be chained to a training schedule.

3:57:39

And I finished feeling good! Yay!

Still a bit gimpy but feeling awesome.

Goals and whatnot

Quick rundown of my race goals: 1) Enjoy the race and finish happy 2) Beat my PR, 4:05:39 3) Sub-4 hour finish 4) 3:50. This is about an 8:45/mile pace, one I know I can hold on a good day – which is what I'm going to have tomorrow.

Weather looks good, partly sunny with a high of 65. Fingers are crossed that the wind will be calm. I'm starting to get some pre-race jitters, but they're mild. There has been so much going on the past few weeks, and I have so much coming up, that this race has sort of become just another item on my to-do list. Which is kind of nice, actually – there's been no time to freak out about it.

Last year I had a list of things that I was going to think about if I found myself struggling in the last few miles. I ended up not needing it, thanks to the giant hill that took up miles 21 and 22. You might think it's cruel to have the only big hill on the course near the very end but it worked out really well for me. I was so focused on getting to the top of the hill that I didn't think about what mile I was on, and then the last three miles were an easy downhill. So even though I was hurting, there was no way I was going to stop – not on a downhill! I hope to have another good finish tomorrow, but it never hurts to be prepared. 1) Head up, shoulders back – run proud 2) Breathe. In-in, out-out. 3) Look around you, enjoy the scenery 4) And for extra motivation if things get really bleak out there: "You're not going to amount to JACK SQUAT! You're gonna end up eating a steady diet of government cheese, and living in a VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER!"

Have a great weekend! I know I will.

Three days and I'll be done!!

Whoops, no I'm not dead or anything. Just feeling kind of impatient for this to be over. I started off this training cycle really well, but ever since I went on vacation/got sick in March, it's been a real struggle. So I'm excited to get it done and try something new. I feel pretty good about Newport. Not really nervous yet – I think it will hit Friday night. Even though my mileage has not been great I completed all my really long runs, so I know I'll get through it. I was just hoping to do more than "get through it." Actually I'm really looking forward to this weekend because we have a bunch of friends coming down to camp at Beverly Beach and cheer us on. Then I'll be joining them on Saturday night. We camp every year about this time, and it's always a blast – and this time I'll have an excuse to eat so much.

My longest run, 22.5 miles along the course in Newport, was HARD. HARD HARD HARD. There was a strong wind coming off the ocean (I know, duh) and coming back in was like running in a wind tunnel. (However, the day after our long run it was completely calm, even on the beach. We've all got our fingers crossed that the 30th will be the same.) I think because I was babying my calves I ended up overusing my quads – whatever the reason, the latter sputtered at about mile 16. The last two miles were absolute torture. My end point was the one-mile marker on the bay road, and I have never, ever wanted something to arrive so badly. Not even the finish line of my first marathon. I kept thinking it was around each corner and getting more and more frantic to finish before my legs fell off. And the next day I was walking like Lurch – again, it was worse than the day after Yakima. Weird. Looking back I'm still not sure what the deal was: I hydrated; I took some salt at the turnaround; I took gels and bloks pretty regularly. It wasn't cramps, they were just exhausted. I can only hope that race day shapes up better.

The calf thing is still hanging around. Since I was already screwed in regards to the plan I drafted up months ago I figured I might as well tweak my schedule to try and get rid of the calf pain as much as possible. It's not distance that makes them hurt, it's running multiple days in a row. So I've been combining runs, or skipping one and putting in the time on the stairmaster instead. It's been working for me so far. I was supposed to run 4 yesterday and 4 today – instead I ran 8 yesterday and will spend 45 minutes sweating my a** off at the gym. (Seriously, I sweat so much on the stairmaster, I'm plastered with it. Whereas I barely sweat at all when I run, even on the treadmill.) Yesterday's run was nice – it was partly sunny, not too warm, nice breeze. A little soreness in the first mile but then I shook it off and was fine. I kept trying to think positive thoughts, visualize good results, etc. I got to mile 6 though, and thought "gee, on race day I'll have 20.2 more to go…"

GODDAMIT BRAIN, WE'VE BEEN OVER THIS!
Sigh.

And for no good reason, a picture of us girls getting ready for 80s prom at the Kennedy School earlier this month:

That flushing sound is my training going down the toilet

Yeah. Yikes. I never skipped a single run during my first round of marathon training last year. I moved some around, combined some, etc. But I hit my mileage every week. This time? Not so much. That calf pain I mentioned last week has stuck around. On Saturday I was scheduled to run 13 miles but only made 9, then skipped Sunday's run all together. I was really hoping that giving it a rest day would fix everything, but Monday's run was hard too. And yesterday I barely hung on for four miles. Five minutes browsing around the interwebs leads me to believe there is something going on with my Soleus muscle. But regardless of what oddly named muscle is bugging me, the prescription is the same: rest. I have my longest training run planned for this Saturday, 22 miles. If I can have a good final long run I'll be fine. So with that in mind I'm skipping the other two runs planned this week. My inner couch potato is ecstatic, but most of me is pissed. I'm definitely getting my hands on Run Less, Run Faster for Timberline.

Junk miles averted thanks to some Teutonic beweggrund!

I rarely listen to music when I run, especially outside. I find it distracting in a not-good way (like when Inappropriate Speedo Man parades around the gym pool). But when I know a run is going to be particularly tedious I bring my iPod because the tunes help pass the time. My lower legs have been feeling unhappy since Tuesday, so I grabbed the iPod to get me through yesterday's six miles.

The first three miles were just terrible. My calves were complaining vocally and I couldn’t muster any speed at all. Then around mile 1.5 I got passed. Normally I have no problem getting passed – there are many runners out there who are much faster than me and I'm hip to that. In fact there's this one woman who frequently chicks me when I run the SC at lunchtime (lousy so-and-so). Anyway, it wasn't the fact that I got passed, it was the Passer that bugged me. It was this girl and well, not to hate on her, but she did not look like she ran a lot. I don't mean that she was heavy (I'm living in a glass house on that one) but she had NO muscle tone in her legs. You know what I mean – whether you want it or not, running tends to make for some alarmingly defined calves and thighs. This girl, not so much. And I was all, dang it, I'm getting passed by some chick who runs twice a month? Sigh. I kept hoping she'd turn around at each half-mile marker so that I could at least salvage some small shred of pride in knowing that I was going longer than she was. Nope. I turned around at 3 miles having been thoroughly served.

Back to the music thing (aka what was supposed to be the point). After turning around I took a minute to stretch out my calves, hoping they'd feel better. I started off in my pathetic jog again, cursing Phideppides, when these dulcet tones came into rotation on my iPod:

Yes! Awesome! Yes! It's Rammstein, everyone's favorite mask-wearing, moonshine-swilling, car-exploding German industrial metal band! Immediately I perked up.

Am I going to let this stupid ribbon of pavement beat me? NEIN!
Am I going to plod home in misery? NEIN!
Will I relegate this run to junk miles? Heck NEIN!

No joke, I started sprinting like the car behind me was on fire. It was wicked – like running a 5k where you just put everything you have out there. Sweeeeeet. I made it back to the start in like, half the time, and wasn't dragging at the end. At all. "Bring it on!" I was thinking. I wanted to break into a little Muhammad Ali shadow-boxing action at the stoplight but thought better given the large crowds of people around me. Now if only Inappropriate Speedo Man would do the same…
*
PS - Just for good measure I got hailed on again, while out in the boat Monday night. It was kind of a kick, actually. I got soaking wet despite being reasonably well water-proofed but hey, it is a water sport.

A springtime rite of passage

Getting hailed on, that is. Glad I didn't miss out this year. The forecast for Saturday was 30% chance of showers, same as the rest of the drizzly week. I was mentally prepared to run through a few spells of light rain, so when I got to mile 14 dry & chafe-free I was pretty darn happy. Then the sky opened up in a complete downpour. Okay, that was bad enough. Then a quarter mile later hail started muscling in and taking over. My forearms and legs were bare, and that shit stung. Out loud, to no one, I asked "Seriously? Is this really necessary?" The hail lasted maybe thirty seconds all together; the rain kept going for about two miles. It wasn't a disaster, but I would've dressed differently if I'd known I would get soaked to the skin with 10k to go. I had the shakes by the time I got home and took a hot shower before the ice bath. (I've gotten over trying to talk myself out of the damn things.)

Other than that it was a pretty good run, except I got out of the car at the trail and immediately had to pee… four miles from the nearest bathroom. Good practice for the race, I guess. Last year I had to pee at the race start and didn't have a chance to go until mile 16. My overall pace was a bit slower than I would've liked, but I felt immensely strong in the second half. No long-run aches until about mile 19. I couldn’t believe it when I realized how I felt with a mile to go – light-years away from how I felt during 20-milers last year. Yay!

Hill run, and misc. rambling

I decided to do my patented four-mile hill run at lunch today. Since tomorrow's twenty miles will be on the flatter-than-flat Springwater Corridor, I figured today was the day to work the hill muscles. Plus it was sunny! Not warm or anything, but beggars can't be choosers. I know it's not exactly an ideal hill run because it's just one big up and one big down. But again, it's what I got. I could get more ups and downs if I ran uptown but then I'd be dodging people and risking jaywalking tickets left and right. (Now yes, I imagine I could outrun the average police officer. But what if he was astride a Segway?? Not worth the risk.) It's much more peaceful to run up among the ritzy houses in the West Hills, where the only people I ever see are mailmen and migrant workers pruning elaborate hedges.
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I've been thinking about joining Portland's Team Red Lizard for a while. I put it off because: a) they are intimidating (not that I really know who "they" are); and b) I wasn't sure if I wanted to commit to training harder. This article in the Times made me reconsider, so I checked out the TRL website. As I was browsing around I found this fantastic article by their track coach Rick Lovett. It got me thinking: I am definitely still a beginning runner, racking up PRs because I've barely started training my body to go faster than a brisk walk. I ran a lot in high school and college, then took a four-year hiatus before starting to train for Yakima in fall 2007. It's been about a year and a half since then. Recent illness aside, I've definitely gotten faster. Rick's article makes me wonder how fast I could be. But it's also reassuring…in some ways it takes the pressure off. As soon as I signed up for a second marathon my thoughts went to qualifying for Boston, because it’s an exclusive marathon and a goal that’s recognizable even to people who don't run. It's nice to be reminded that *hello*, it's only my second marathon. I have years and years to get used to running and get better at it. I don't need to put all this pressure on myself and set up a potentially unrealistic goal. My goal should be to finish happy & strong. On that note, TGIF!

Chin up soldier! And bonus public transport rant.

Ran a little over six miles on Tuesday. I was a bit worried because I still felt fatigue in my legs at the start, but once I got out and loosened up I found another great groove. My legs were tired but happily truckin' along on autopilot. I wonder if that's what the high mileage (y'know, comparatively) gives you – the ability to get through runs in good shape, even when you're fatigued. Yesterday it was drizzly so I ran five on the treadmill and got back up to 7.2 mph for three miles. The last half mile I went up to 7.5 - yay! I'm finally getting back to where I was six weeks ago.

Today is another five miles and another rainy day, so I'm going to try to do three miles at 7.4 - we'll see. I'm going to give it all I have. I read a quote somewhere in the wilds of the internet that the marathon is your reward for training so hard. It made me realize that with all that's been going on I really haven't been pushing. I don't blame myself, and it was probably a good idea to ease off while I was recovering from the flu. But now that I'm feeling good again I have to re-light the fire under my ass and stop tossing off runs at 6.6 mph. Even if my time goal has changed, that's not an excuse to stop trying to go faster.
*
Boat practice has really kicked into high gear this month. I ran into a little overlap last year between running and paddling, but it was only a few weeks in the very beginning of the season, so it didn't matter if I skipped a lot of practices. This year the marathon is almost two months later, which obviously makes a big difference when trying to balance the two. I've told our team manager that Saturdays are out for me until June, but that means making it to both mid-week practices. Which in turn means pulling a lot of doubles, running and paddling in the same day. It's actually not that physically challenging, because they use completely opposite muscle groups. Instead it's a mental/motivational stress thing, trying to remember to pack everything I need for both activities, fit runs in around work and practice, find time to eat, get over tiredness. Usually I end up cranky and not wanting to do one or other. Since I'm a lead this year, and one of the more experienced paddlers, I've really been trying to be positive and upbeat, which is hard when you feel pissy. Ugh. But considering I just signed up for a fall marathon I'd better figure out how to manage it more gracefully, since I'll be training all summer now.

*

Okay, one more thing. Part of the stress of managing both activities stems from the fact that I commute by bus into work. I keep my paddle and PFD at the office, so I don't have to carry them in twice a week, thank GOD. I have to bring everything else for the day with me, though, which means trying to be focused and competent at 6:30 in the morning, pre-coffee. Some days are better than others. Anyway, I've been riding various Portland-area buses into downtown for four years. About 90% of the time, everything runs smoothly and I'm a happy camper. The bus is on-time, it's not unbearably crowded, no one is shouting into their cell phone about their genital warts (oh yes, that has happened). But that other 10%...damn. Those times make me wish I had "00" status and the attendant license to kill. I would be tough but fair in meting out justice. Last night was one of those days. Rather than re-hash it all and get my blood pressure back up, let's just say that thanks to Trimet I got an extra two-mile "cool-down" walk in a frigid wind, I learned all about why a profoundly unattractive woman is fighting with her boyfriend (FYI, he hasn’t paid his share of the rent), and got home 36 minutes late. Sigh. It's probably a good thing I wasn't armed.

It was the best of runs, it was the worst of runs. (Not that kind of runs, people.)

Luckily the long run (13 miles) was the great one. My social calendar was packed on Saturday so I ran early. The day started off cool and overcast, so I was glad I brought a jacket. I kept it on until the last three miles or so, when the sun came out enough to leave me with some awkward little tan lines. I wore my watch but was determined not to focus on my pace; my only goal was to finish in under two hours (which I did – check!). Around the five-mile mark I started getting that tired feeling I've been having. But I ran through it and by the time I headed back from Gresham I was feeling good. Actually I was feeling GREAT – I was in the zone something fierce, and the last five miles or so flowed by with hardly any effort on my part at all. And NO tightness, not even in the usual long-run spots. Plus the mountain was back from winter hiding, and looking very postcard-y, and everything was blooming and pretty and smelling pleasant, plus the bikers were out in full force (mrrrrow!). I love runs like that, and of course it was a big confidence booster.

That's why I'm not letting Sunday's awful run bother me. I woke up really feeling those 34 miles in the bank already. I decided to put off my run until later in the day, hoping I'd get some pep back. But 'twas not to be. It was partially my own stupid fault too – I was dehydrated, and decided that running during the hottest part of the day would be nice, not torturous. So I was tired, thirsty, sore, really hot, and my stomach hurt. I was supposed to make it 6 miles but I only clocked 4.5. Not worried though – I'm proud that I made it to 38.5 miles the week after running exactly 0. I've also decided that I'm not a six-day a week type of runner. Too much wear and tear on the gams, plus the bother of fitting runs into my work & boat practice (& social) schedule, wrangling multiple changes of clothes in my gym bag, etc. I prefer doing longer runs four times a week versus running every day. I'm learning!

Getting better all the time

I ran 6 miles outside after work on Tuesday, risking the erratic spring weather. It was one of those sunny-raining-hail-sunny days. Luckily the hour I was out on the Springwater was dry. The sun chose to make an appearance as I was crossing the Hawthorne Bridge and staring right at it, which I didn't appreciate. But it's silly (and risky) to complain about the sun coming out, so I'll stop. Portland needs all the vitamin D it can get right about now.

I didn't have to take any walking breaks, but in the middle I slowed down noticeably before bouncing back in last two miles. My right foot started hurting, though, boo. I'm hoping it was random foot pain and not something that will start nagging. Yesterday was a rest day, which was slightly weird – felt like I was playing hooky. But I'll run every other day this week, so I milked it and did nothing but take a walk at lunchtime. I have a feeling that I'll be exhausted by Sunday.

*
I was impulsive this morning and signed up for the Timberline Marathon in September (view from the start line at right). I really like trail running, and hopefully this will motivate me to do more of it this summer. I've been thinking about the race and how I'll fit training into my summer schedule, plus doing some rumination on running in general. I like running, obviously, or I wouldn't spend so much time doing & talking & thinking about it. What I don’t like about marathon training is feeling worn down. I think that if I varied my activities more and ran less I would feel better. (Not a new idea I realize, but a new approach for me.) I'm going to stick with my planned schedule for Newport, but try a new approach for Timberline. Rather than strictly follow a daily schedule like I've done so far, I'm going to play this one a little looser. I think I'll have a long-run plan for weekends but let the rest of the week shape up however I want it to. I want to do more weight training and cross-training (and if I bike commute like last year, that's a solid built-in workout every day). I think I'll find it more fulfilling to have a fun, relaxing, diverse summer than to have a few minutes' faster time in a race. Guess we'll see!

Plans Derailed

So, I'm alive. And I made it through the half-marathon, more on that below. But I spent the entirety of last week prostrate with an awful flu. AN AWFUL, TERRIBLE, NO-GOOD FLU, just to make sure we're clear. I haven't been that sick in years. I had lots of time to think about it while holding very still in bed, and the last time I felt so totally shitty was 2002. And that was just a 36-hour stomach bug – I can't remember the last time I was laid up for a full week. It was back when my mommy would bring me OJ and cold washcloths. I'm still nowhere near one-hundred percent, but at least I'm bathed and out of my PJs.

I didn't run at all last week. Not once. In fact if you add up the steps I took around the house (and occasionally to the mailbox) you probably don't even get a tenth of a mile. Now luckily last week was my mid-training recovery week, where I was scheduled to drop down in mileage. The longest run I missed was eight miles. But. A week of forced immobility is not the same as a recovery week. Today I tried to get back on schedule and ran five miles on the treadmill. Correction: ran most of five miles. I stopped at 2.75 and 4 miles to take cough breaks (sorry everyone near me – I'm not contagious anymore, promise) and get my HR down. At this point the last thing I want to do is drag out my recovery by pushing too hard. (I'm sure it doesn't help that I ate approximately nothing last week.) But I don't feel like I can take another week off and catch back up. So I'm going to take as many walk breaks as I need, but hit the mileage. I still have six weeks to convalesce fully. Unless I get to feeling really good really fast, I'm throwing my time goals for the marathon out the window. New goal will just be to beat the current PR.

Speaking of PRs, I did manage to wrest one from Race for the Roses, despite feeling distinctly wilted. 1:50:05, and if you think that :05 haunts me, you are correct. I did decide to race without my watch and paid the terrible price. Damn five seconds. I stuck with the 8:30 pace group for the first eight miles or so, until we turned on to the out-and-back section on Naito. The pace leader (who otherwise did a fantastic job) had a tendency to hurry through water stops. I think that's fine when you’re spread out like most of the mass of runners, but there were quite a few people sticking with him, and when we came to an aid station we overwhelmed them. Since I wasn't carrying anything I was careful to get enough liquids which meant having to hustle and catch up with the group afterward. I wanted to build up a little lead on him so that I could take my sweet time at the stops. Plus I was feeling okay, like I could go faster. So I pulled away and spent the final five miles (once again) trying to outrun annoying talkers behind me. They have every right to talk on the course, good for them, whatever. It's still annoying.

I didn't finish much ahead of the pace group, maybe 90 seconds. But it was enough for a PR, so I'm happy-ish. Still bummed that I was sick, because I know I have more in me. But what are ya gonna do? After finishing I met up with Tina and Dan, who'd run the 5k (and placed in their age groups – woohoo! spinny medals!). I was feeling progressively worse and developing a fever so I headed home. Or would've headed home if the Max was running. Instead I waited on the platform for an hour until an accident was cleared. Then I headed home. After a shower I parked myself on the couch, and pretty much didn't move for six days. All-in-all, not my best race.

PS - I did race in the new Mizunos. No problemos.

Race weekend!

It's been too long since I raced. Glad it's here, even if it means getting up at 5 (shudder) 30 (tremble) AM (Noooooo!) on a weekend. And the Portland weather is actually going to cooperate, knock on wood: this weekend is forecast sunny with highs in the mid-60s. Of course, when we start running at 7 it will be dark and 45 degrees. Still. It's better than dark, cold, AND rainy. My friends (and fellow Newport racers-to-be) Tina and Dan are running the 5k, which starts half an hour after the half. If Tina gets near her 5k PR, she could easily be one of the top in her age group – go Tina!

I'm giving myself two rest days, as usual. It's worked for me before, and given how worn-out I've been feeling it can't hurt. I checked out the course and the aid station maps. No water belt necessary, and I'm debating whether or not to wear my watch (if I forget it again, the issue is obviously moot). I don't want to obsess about my time, so I think I might skip it. There is an 8:30/mile pace group in this race, which I'm going to join at packet pick-up. 8:30 is two seconds faster than my PR in the half, so if I can stick with them I'll PR by 26 seconds (it still counts!!), and if I feel good at the half I can try for a little negative split. It would be awesome to get something in the 1:40s but I'm going to listen to my bod and not push things too much. Particularly since my schedule has me running on Monday next week.

As much as I'm looking forward to this race, I'm also very frustrated right now. I KNOW I was on track for a PR before I got sick – I ran a 13-mile training run at 8:22 and felt dandy. The desire to PR is still extremely strong, even though I had to dramatically scale back my speed in training. I'm really trying to be positive and not beat myself up over it, but dangit, I want a PR. Oh well. The noble truth of suffering is good for my spiritual health.
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I think I need new shoes. I made the mistake of not tracking the mileage on my current Mizunos, but I'm pretty sure 500 has come and gone. I'm even thinking about running the race on Sunday in new shoes. I know, I know – bad idea. But I've been wearing the same model of shoe for three years. And it's only 13 miles, right?...

We're a big bunch of masochistic weirdos

I had to jog 50 feet to catch the bus this morning and my legs complained. Boo. It's ironic that I run so much in training that I can't actually run in real life when I need to.

Yesterday was typical spring weather – dreary, with rain showers all day. So I was at the gym come five to bang out six miles. The gym crowds have thinned since January but wet weather can still bring them inside in droves (course I'm part of the herd too - moo). I try to avoid doing more than four miles on the treadmill after work because once I cross the mystical thirty minute barrier I become a target for gymsters on the hunt for a cardio machine. Personally, I'd rather wait five minutes than interrupt someone else's workout. But life has taught me that not everyone feels the same. And I do start to feel guilty when someone is waiting and my workout time starts creeping up toward 50 minutes. Not guilty enough to get off the treadmill, but you know - a little twinge.

I started off easy and worked out the kinks I still have from whatever it was I did to myself two weeks ago. I did four miles at about 6.6, then bumped up to 6.8, and for the last mile put the pace back up to 7.2. I hit more kinks as I increased the pace, but once I'd been running for a few minutes they melted away. Happiness. Something momentarily horrifying happened right afterward though. I was walking toward the cool-down area and stopped to pick up an exercise mat on the floor. As I stood up I stumbled and somehow jammed my foot in a way that caused EXCRUCIATING pain to engulf the top of my left foot. I yelped and nearly fell over (in my usual graceful fashion). It hurt the whole time I was stretching, anytime I bent the foot, and while I gimped back to the lockers. I was, of course, panicked, and ready to call my chiropractor post-haste.

Once I got other shoes on though, it nearly vanished. And this morning, even wearing my running shoes, it was barely a whisper. Apparently it was just random ghostly agonizing pain. Goody!

"No, Donny, these men are nihilists, there's nothing to be afraid of."

I woke up Saturday to pouring rain. Super. Another "Run Suffered Through Because You Never Know What Conditions Will Be On Race Day." Actually I don't usually mind soggy runs but this was some fierce rain. Not the happy little raindrops Portland is used to.

I managed to get halfway to the Springwater before realizing I wasn't wearing my watch. Mentally I had already decided to take it easy this weekend, so I dismissed going back for it. The first half of the run I thought about how much more enjoyable my long runs are when I'm not trying to make a time goal (during the second half, my brain was consumed with chafage). Yes they end up being longer but the run itself is much more pleasant, and I'm not beating myself up over a few seconds here and there. By 10 AM on Saturday I was positive that I was going to give up my time goals and just train to finish again. With a few days' perspective, I'm now on the fence. I was sodden and tired (and chafing) during that run – I don't want to hold myself to decisions I made while cranky. And I don't want to sell myself short.

The Race for the Roses is Sunday. My goal is to beat my PR, 1:51:something. Assuming the weather is decent enough to run a good race, it should help me figure things out. I ran the 1:51 on like, NO training. Maybe 15 easy miles a week. My training runs this year have been below that PR pace (by a hair), but leave me fatigued. I might not be a high-mileage person…maybe I run better when slacking (that'd be SWEET!).

What doesn't kill me, and so on

This week's been tough. I've been dragging and feeling sick, and my legs have been aching. I barely held on for four measly miles yesterday. Today I'm going to give my gams a break and do forty minutes on the stair climber rather than run. I want to have a bearable 18 miles on Saturday. I really hope I'm just sick and not reaching my own speed limit. I felt dandy after 15 easy miles in Texas.

It's been a challenge to set goals this time around. I had such a great experience during my first marathon; I worry that all the problems I avoided in Yakima (no cramps, no stomach problems, no wall) will hunt me down in Newport. I think a key reason why that first marathon went so well was that I had no real goal except to finish. So I had no reason to push myself too hard and bonk in the higher miles. Part of me wants to face Newport the same way and just run comfortably to finish. But I also want to see what I can really do when I push myself. Then again, I want to enjoy the race and not suffer through it, and not be forced to walk at the end. Aargh. It reminds me of the second half marathon I ran last year, which I never ended up writing about: the Haulin' Aspen trail half in Bend. I finished in under two hours and came in third in my age group, both things that I am very proud of. I also pushed really hard, particularly in the last couple of miles, and felt awful for the rest of the day – and it was a LONG day. No guts, no glory, etc., but I would strongly prefer to never feel like that again.

I guess I'll wait and see how the next couple of weeks go…

I (heart) ibuprofen

According to my schedule I was supposed to run 13 on Saturday but I decided to do another 15-miler, this time trying for my time goal. Well, I made it: 15 miles in 2:05:17 for a pace of 8:21. Like all long runs it was a mixture of "Damn I feel good! I can do this all day!" and "PLEASE GOD LET ME STOP". What I found interesting was that I managed almost exactly even first and second halves, despite feeling like I was dragging a sled of ground beef behind me on the way back. They felt like 9 or 9:30 minute miles. Weird.

I had just enough time to go home, take a lightning fast shower and excruciating ice bath before heading off to the spring paddling clinic my teammate Melissa organized. There were about 40 newbies trying out dragon boating for the first time, and Mel needed all the experienced paddlers she could get. I ended up leading two groups out – not the best idea considering I hadn't paddled since November and had just run 15 miles. I woke up on Sunday feeling like I'd been severely beaten. I'd planned on going to the gym for my recovery jog and a 10 AM yoga class, but ended up staying in bed holding very still for a while. I also had a sore throat, so I think I was fighting something off that increased the body aches…whatever it was – man. I was destroyed. After laying about for most of the day I finally mustered the energy to change and went down to the track for a quickie. I did about 2 miles and felt better.

Today I'm still sore, but can stand up and bend over without grunting. Yeesh.

Training marches inexorably forward

Last week I was on vacation in the hill country of Texas. Somewhat pretty, although very brown to my verdant-Pacific-Northwest-accustomed eyes. They're in a bad drought so it's even browner than usual. I ran my 15-mile long run in the cattle country behind my aunt & uncle's new house. The route was an out & back, and very nice. Several rolling hills to break it up, and some nice vistas. There were several "loose livestock" areas that made me a bit nervous – not like I'm expecting the cows to rush me, but they are quite large animals and sometimes they get this glint in their eyes…But it was fine. They actually ran away, which I found amusing. (The pic is not Texas, obviously. It's Newport, where #2 will be.)

Training continues to be easier this time around, because I know what to expect. I know that at the turnaround point I will wonder how I'll ever get back to the start. About three miles before finishing my legs will start to feel breakable, but they won't actually shatter. I'll reach a certain level of discomfort but it will be bearable. These are really great things to carry with you on long runs. It's been tough to reach my goal speed but I've been pretty pleased so far.

I'm following a NYRR schedule this time around, rather than Hal. I dunno, I have mixed feelings about it. The big changes are increased peak mileage (three weeks at 40 rather than one at 37) and running on Sundays. I like the running on Sundays, which is the part I thought I would hate. I tend to be stiff on Sundays but not sore, and I'm finding that a nice easy three or four mile jog loosens everything up. I'm only up around 31 miles per week at this point, so I can't say how I'll feel about three forty-mile weeks in a row (it will probably involve multiple invectives). But what I haven't liked about this program is that there is a step down in between EVERY long run mileage increase. I got up to 10, then stepped down to 8, then up to 13, then down to 10, then 15 to 12 to 18. I'm finding that I prefer to gradually ramp it up – I would feel better doing 10, then 11, then 13, then 14, then 15, maybe at this point a step down, then 18. I just feel like the long mileages are more of a struggle when I'm adding a block of miles on at a time, rather than gradually cranking it up.

My ambitious goal is still to qualify for Boston. With a pace of 8:25 min/mile I could just squeak in. Some days I think I can do it and other days not, but I'm sticking to it. I've run up to 12 miles at that pace and felt pretty good. If I can keep it up at 18-20 miles I'll feel better, obviously. I know I'll run faster on race day than during my training runs, so if I can keep up an 8:25 pace in training I'll feel relatively confident.

My next race is April 5th, the Race for the Roses half marathon in Portland. My coworker Marathon Steve recommended it, and it falls on a 13-mile-long-run weekend anyway, so I didn't even have to adjust my schedule. I haven't looked too much at the course but my goal will be to beat my Helvetia Half time of 1:51.

Post from January 21 that I never actually got around to posting...

Last week I started structured training for numero dos. So far it's been great. The weather has been unusually clear, so I've been able to run outside on my lunch break and get some sorely-needed vitamin D. My run on Saturday was pretty godawful though. The Gorge wind was blowing something fierce, and on the way out I was running directly into it. Like running in a wind tunnel. When I first turned into it I seriously considered running over to the gym and finishing up there. But it was sunny! It's never sunny. I convinced myself that it was a good re-introduction to the miseries of training. And suffering builds character. And on the way back I'd be getting pushed forward instead of back, so it would all even out in the end. Right? Not exactly. But I did get through it, and it's been added to the pile of "Runs That Are Suffered Through Because You Never Know What The Conditions Will Be On Race Day."
So far, training has been much easier the second time around. I started upping my mileage back in December, and I haven't had any aches and pains yet. I was reading through my entries from the beginning of training last year and remembering how I used to be in noticeable discomfort the first few miles of most runs. Ugh. Much better this year. It's also nice to know, of course, that I CAN do it.