And I finished feeling good! Yay!
Still a bit gimpy but feeling awesome.
Showing posts with label joy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label joy. Show all posts
Monday, June 1, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, April 20, 2009
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!
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
So...what do I do now?
I'm still sort of in shock. I was making plans with a friend for later this week and I realized that I could go out any night I wanted. The epic awesomeness of that has not yet sunk in. I wrote a little race report below - in summary: it was great, it was hard, it went by in a flash.
I took the whole day off on Friday, even though we weren't leaving until mid-day, because I knew I would be completely useless at work. I got up at 8, packed, and then putzed around and got nervous until noon. Funny aside – clearly my mind was elsewhere when I left my house, because somehow I ended up on the on-ramp to I-84 West instead of East. Sigh. That was a fun 10-minute detour.
The drive up was unremarkable, though very pretty. Packet pick-up was a snap. The pasta dinner was good – I was glad they had lots of salad too. I didn't eat a ton, just a normal dinner. I read something while training that said if you are going to carb-load, do it two nights before (i.e. Thursday night for me), because eating a ton the night before a race will just weigh you down (and maybe make you queasy). The nutrients won't be in your system until the following night at the earliest. That's how I prepared for my long runs and it worked for me, so I stuck with it. T and I drove to our hotel in Ellensburg. (We didn't go via the course, as I read another piece of advice that said doing so tends to make first-timers nervous. Like, I have to run THIS far? I think it was a good call.) We checked the weather, I laid out all my stuff, and we were in bed by 9:30. I have bedtime-only narcolepsy (note: not a real medical condition), so I had no problems getting to sleep. The first alarm went off at 5:45 (we set three…) and I woke up immediately. Got dressed, had water, coffee, two slices of whole grain toast with butter and grape jelly, and water. T and I arranged late check-out (it required some eye-batting, since I asked for an hour later than their usual late check-out) then left for the race HQ. The race has basically taken over the local Days Inn, so I got to use an indoor bathroom rather than a porta-potty. Of course by the time I got to the start line I had to pee again (and I didn't find a vacant porta-potty until Mile 16).
I got near the back of the middle at the start, and before I knew it we were off. The first few miles I considered kind of a warm-up, and tried to find a good settled pace. I also found the first of my pace bunnies. I admit that I really had no race strategy. I just wanted to run the whole way and beat Oprah's time. At the pasta dinner, one of the women who'd run the race before said they had pacers who wore rabbit ears, hence the name pace bunnies. I was hoping to find one during the race but I guess they didn't have them this year. So, I created my own pace bunnies. I'd find someone who seemed comfortable, and whose pace I liked, and stick to them like glue (figuring pretty much everyone there has more experience than I do). The first was a guy in a blue singlet and shorts. I stuck with him for about miles 1-3. Then either he slowed down or I sped up, and I passed him. After the first aid station I started following two women who were chatting as they ran. I stuck with them for about 3 more miles, until the next aid station. They stopped; I grabbed some water and kept moving. I was on my own for awhile until I found another bunny. He was a marathon maniac and (again) I stuck with him until an aid station. I then got slowly passed by a woman in blue whom I tried to keep pace with, but I could tell she was just a little too fast. I hung back, and by then we were in the middle miles. Twas then I found the Pace Bunny to end all bunnies. Her name was Gina and she was a 100-Marathon Club Member (her singlet told me these things). I figured: Here is a woman who knows her marathons! Stick with her, kid, and you'll be fine. So I did, until tragically, she stopped at an aid station. I was torn, and for a moment I actually stopped too (and grabbed an orange slice and some pretzels). But I knew that the longer I held the still the worse it would feel to start again, so I left without Gina. ::Single tear:: I figured that if she passed me, I would just velcro myself back onto her. She never did though, although it turns out she finished only about a minute behind me.
The rest of the race I ran pretty much bunny-less, although near the end I tried (and unfortunately failed) to run faster than these two really annoying people behind me. Ugh. The major hill at Mile 22 was ghastly. My quads felt the way I imagine tenderized chicken cutlets feel after being hammered with a mallet by an angry little Frenchman. I absolutely refused to stop though, and "powered" through it (powered = ran at approximately 2 mph). After that hill it was pretty much smooth sailing. I got a lot of friendly encouragement from people I was passing. I felt good, all things considered.
The most amazing moment for me came when I ran out of the canyon and could see the finish line. All of a sudden it hit me that I was going to do it. Not only was I about to finish my first marathon, but I was going to do it exactly the way I dreamed. I'd run the whole way and I wasn't destroyed. There might have been some sobbing, until I realized it was messing with my breathing. Back to business, kiddo.
I got to the finish, I got my hug, my rose, my hi-tek space blanket, and my medal, plus some fig newtons that were the absolute best thing I'd ever tasted in my life. T was crying. Strangely, I was not.
**
I think I've caught the bug. I started looking around to see when my next marathon will be. I should've signed up for Newport, danggit, which is now full. The Eugene Marathon is May 5 but it's like $105. Yowza!! North Olympic is in June, and only about $65. I think I'll aim for that. Oh, and yes, everyone I know (except Steve the fellow marathoner) thinks I've lost my remaining marbles.
I took the whole day off on Friday, even though we weren't leaving until mid-day, because I knew I would be completely useless at work. I got up at 8, packed, and then putzed around and got nervous until noon. Funny aside – clearly my mind was elsewhere when I left my house, because somehow I ended up on the on-ramp to I-84 West instead of East. Sigh. That was a fun 10-minute detour.
The drive up was unremarkable, though very pretty. Packet pick-up was a snap. The pasta dinner was good – I was glad they had lots of salad too. I didn't eat a ton, just a normal dinner. I read something while training that said if you are going to carb-load, do it two nights before (i.e. Thursday night for me), because eating a ton the night before a race will just weigh you down (and maybe make you queasy). The nutrients won't be in your system until the following night at the earliest. That's how I prepared for my long runs and it worked for me, so I stuck with it. T and I drove to our hotel in Ellensburg. (We didn't go via the course, as I read another piece of advice that said doing so tends to make first-timers nervous. Like, I have to run THIS far? I think it was a good call.) We checked the weather, I laid out all my stuff, and we were in bed by 9:30. I have bedtime-only narcolepsy (note: not a real medical condition), so I had no problems getting to sleep. The first alarm went off at 5:45 (we set three…) and I woke up immediately. Got dressed, had water, coffee, two slices of whole grain toast with butter and grape jelly, and water. T and I arranged late check-out (it required some eye-batting, since I asked for an hour later than their usual late check-out) then left for the race HQ. The race has basically taken over the local Days Inn, so I got to use an indoor bathroom rather than a porta-potty. Of course by the time I got to the start line I had to pee again (and I didn't find a vacant porta-potty until Mile 16).
I got near the back of the middle at the start, and before I knew it we were off. The first few miles I considered kind of a warm-up, and tried to find a good settled pace. I also found the first of my pace bunnies. I admit that I really had no race strategy. I just wanted to run the whole way and beat Oprah's time. At the pasta dinner, one of the women who'd run the race before said they had pacers who wore rabbit ears, hence the name pace bunnies. I was hoping to find one during the race but I guess they didn't have them this year. So, I created my own pace bunnies. I'd find someone who seemed comfortable, and whose pace I liked, and stick to them like glue (figuring pretty much everyone there has more experience than I do). The first was a guy in a blue singlet and shorts. I stuck with him for about miles 1-3. Then either he slowed down or I sped up, and I passed him. After the first aid station I started following two women who were chatting as they ran. I stuck with them for about 3 more miles, until the next aid station. They stopped; I grabbed some water and kept moving. I was on my own for awhile until I found another bunny. He was a marathon maniac and (again) I stuck with him until an aid station. I then got slowly passed by a woman in blue whom I tried to keep pace with, but I could tell she was just a little too fast. I hung back, and by then we were in the middle miles. Twas then I found the Pace Bunny to end all bunnies. Her name was Gina and she was a 100-Marathon Club Member (her singlet told me these things). I figured: Here is a woman who knows her marathons! Stick with her, kid, and you'll be fine. So I did, until tragically, she stopped at an aid station. I was torn, and for a moment I actually stopped too (and grabbed an orange slice and some pretzels). But I knew that the longer I held the still the worse it would feel to start again, so I left without Gina. ::Single tear:: I figured that if she passed me, I would just velcro myself back onto her. She never did though, although it turns out she finished only about a minute behind me.
The rest of the race I ran pretty much bunny-less, although near the end I tried (and unfortunately failed) to run faster than these two really annoying people behind me. Ugh. The major hill at Mile 22 was ghastly. My quads felt the way I imagine tenderized chicken cutlets feel after being hammered with a mallet by an angry little Frenchman. I absolutely refused to stop though, and "powered" through it (powered = ran at approximately 2 mph). After that hill it was pretty much smooth sailing. I got a lot of friendly encouragement from people I was passing. I felt good, all things considered.
The most amazing moment for me came when I ran out of the canyon and could see the finish line. All of a sudden it hit me that I was going to do it. Not only was I about to finish my first marathon, but I was going to do it exactly the way I dreamed. I'd run the whole way and I wasn't destroyed. There might have been some sobbing, until I realized it was messing with my breathing. Back to business, kiddo.
I got to the finish, I got my hug, my rose, my hi-tek space blanket, and my medal, plus some fig newtons that were the absolute best thing I'd ever tasted in my life. T was crying. Strangely, I was not.
**
I think I've caught the bug. I started looking around to see when my next marathon will be. I should've signed up for Newport, danggit, which is now full. The Eugene Marathon is May 5 but it's like $105. Yowza!! North Olympic is in June, and only about $65. I think I'll aim for that. Oh, and yes, everyone I know (except Steve the fellow marathoner) thinks I've lost my remaining marbles.
PS - My new goal MIGHT be to qualify for Boston. But I just don't know if I care that much.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
T-minus two days...
48 hours from now I will be DONE! with this whole marathon thing. (yeeahhhuummm, sort of...I might have already committed to another one.) My boss & coworkers surprised me with a card and a little gifty-basket type thing full of water, Luna bars, and ibuprofen. Ah, they know me well. It was a very sweet thing to do, and I promised I would bring in my medal on Monday so they could stop by my office and genuflect. ;)
I know I complained lustily about how running had taken over my life just a few short weeks ago, but man have I missed it. (Remember, as a woman it's my prerogative to change my mind frequently and without understandable motivation.) I haven't had a long run since March 22, and that was only 15 miles! Practically nothing! I hesitate to say it but…I grew to really like the long runs. (BUT NOT THE ICE BATHS! I will never be down with those.) Getting stronger every week and conquering distances that I thought were a long way to drive is really…(okay, I have to say it, even though I hate this word) empowering. (It's been totally co-opted for PC bullshit to the point of meaninglessness – providing coffee in the break room does NOT constitute "coworker empowerment". Alright, I'm done.) For reals, though, it is awesome to know that I have this kind of dedication and follow-through in me. I decided I wanted to run a marathon. I researched, planned, and trained for it on my own. There was no one shaking me on Saturday mornings, telling me to get my butt in gear and get out the door early. I wasn't going to disappoint anyone except myself if I skipped a cold, rainy midweek run. It is very reassuring to know that I have stick-to-it-tive-ness.
And now that I'm off my high horse: tapering still sucks. To paraphrase Michelle: "I feel fat. My right ankle hurts. Are you coughing? Stay away from me! I need to get more water. Now my left shin hurts. I need to go to the bathroom AGAIN. These pants feel tight. My nose is running, is this allergies or am I getting sick? Better go wash my hands again. My side hurts, what if I pulled a muscle? I have to go to the bathroom. Did I break my shoes in enough? I have to remember to clip my toenails before I leave. Better grab some more water. What if I oversleep and miss the race? My ankle still hurts. What if I tear a contact lens marathon morning? I have to pee."
Ah, the joys of running.
I know I complained lustily about how running had taken over my life just a few short weeks ago, but man have I missed it. (Remember, as a woman it's my prerogative to change my mind frequently and without understandable motivation.) I haven't had a long run since March 22, and that was only 15 miles! Practically nothing! I hesitate to say it but…I grew to really like the long runs. (BUT NOT THE ICE BATHS! I will never be down with those.) Getting stronger every week and conquering distances that I thought were a long way to drive is really…(okay, I have to say it, even though I hate this word) empowering. (It's been totally co-opted for PC bullshit to the point of meaninglessness – providing coffee in the break room does NOT constitute "coworker empowerment". Alright, I'm done.) For reals, though, it is awesome to know that I have this kind of dedication and follow-through in me. I decided I wanted to run a marathon. I researched, planned, and trained for it on my own. There was no one shaking me on Saturday mornings, telling me to get my butt in gear and get out the door early. I wasn't going to disappoint anyone except myself if I skipped a cold, rainy midweek run. It is very reassuring to know that I have stick-to-it-tive-ness.
And now that I'm off my high horse: tapering still sucks. To paraphrase Michelle: "I feel fat. My right ankle hurts. Are you coughing? Stay away from me! I need to get more water. Now my left shin hurts. I need to go to the bathroom AGAIN. These pants feel tight. My nose is running, is this allergies or am I getting sick? Better go wash my hands again. My side hurts, what if I pulled a muscle? I have to go to the bathroom. Did I break my shoes in enough? I have to remember to clip my toenails before I leave. Better grab some more water. What if I oversleep and miss the race? My ankle still hurts. What if I tear a contact lens marathon morning? I have to pee."
Ah, the joys of running.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Onto that long downward spiral called tapering
I ended up doing an unbelievable 22.34 miles on Saturday. Holy Shit, is all I can say. And then on Sunday I did the Shamrock 5k, meaning I was half a mile away from a marathon over the two days. I have to say, it really REALLY increased my confidence going into the marathon. Not only did I get within 4 miles of the marathon distance on Saturday, but it was NOT an easy run. From the get-go I felt zapped of energy. By the time I turned around somewhere in the wilds of Gresham (more on that below) I felt like a zombie. But around mile 17 I got comfortable with my zombie-ness, and finished easily. I felt much better than I had after my brush with 20 two weeks before. I'm now paying for it, though. I've started to taper so my runs have topped off at 5 mile this week but they have not been easy. I can feel that my legs are empty. They are juice-less lead weights. I'm sure I'll get my energy back after a few more days of eating bread and taking it slow. My long run Saturday is 15 miles and it'll be on an unpaved trail, which sounds like heaven.
So how did I end up doing 22.34 miles? I have the city of Gresham and a faulty bridge to thank for that. First, the bridge. At mile 13.5 on the Springwater one of the footbridges is down. They detour the path onto a nearby road for maybe half a mile, until the road loops around and crosses the trail again past the bridge. I never really bothered to figure out how much distance the detour added because I only ran it once or twice. Turns out, it adds a lot. Plus, once you leave Portland and enter Gresham, the mile markers stop appearing every half mile and start appearing when the city of Gresham feels like paying for one. Turns out, that isn't very often. Basically they put up a marker when the path crosses a major street. Thus the 15.12 mile marker, and the 16.42. Super. I really did not want to go short of my goal again, so I soldiered on even when I was pretty sure I'd hit 10.5 miles. I finally turned around at 242nd Street. On Sunday when I mapped it, I found that I had run 11.17 miles out. Wow.
So how did I end up doing 22.34 miles? I have the city of Gresham and a faulty bridge to thank for that. First, the bridge. At mile 13.5 on the Springwater one of the footbridges is down. They detour the path onto a nearby road for maybe half a mile, until the road loops around and crosses the trail again past the bridge. I never really bothered to figure out how much distance the detour added because I only ran it once or twice. Turns out, it adds a lot. Plus, once you leave Portland and enter Gresham, the mile markers stop appearing every half mile and start appearing when the city of Gresham feels like paying for one. Turns out, that isn't very often. Basically they put up a marker when the path crosses a major street. Thus the 15.12 mile marker, and the 16.42. Super. I really did not want to go short of my goal again, so I soldiered on even when I was pretty sure I'd hit 10.5 miles. I finally turned around at 242nd Street. On Sunday when I mapped it, I found that I had run 11.17 miles out. Wow.
Monday, March 10, 2008
I still cannot figure this running thing out.
Apparently, this is my recipe for an amazing long run: on Thursday feel ill, complete only 3 of 5 miles, and barely eat anything. Friday, stay out late eating gooey cheese, crackers, and chocolate, and oh yeah, drinking too much wine. Get up at 6 am (grghhmrmr) on Saturday to make it to pool practice by 7:15; afterwards devour three ginormous slices of French toast slathered in butter and syrup. Then change, go running, and finish thirteen miles in 1:58:08, a pace of 9:05. (!) And, except for the French toast jostling around and making its presence known, feel great doing it. WTF?
I have no idea why I felt so good - the only thing I can think of is that it seems like my body finally "got" it. Particularly after I turned at the half-way point, all the mechanics came together. I felt fluid, comfortable. I was leading with my hips and letting them set the pace (apparently the pace they wanted was 'fast'), which led to my feet falling more softly. I walked yesterday and took a yoga class. I feel so good. I hope that when I run tomorrow I'll find that it wasn't just a one-off deal. I hope that I've turned a corner in my running and I can find more peace than struggle moving forward.
I have no idea why I felt so good - the only thing I can think of is that it seems like my body finally "got" it. Particularly after I turned at the half-way point, all the mechanics came together. I felt fluid, comfortable. I was leading with my hips and letting them set the pace (apparently the pace they wanted was 'fast'), which led to my feet falling more softly. I walked yesterday and took a yoga class. I feel so good. I hope that when I run tomorrow I'll find that it wasn't just a one-off deal. I hope that I've turned a corner in my running and I can find more peace than struggle moving forward.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Crunch Time!
That is what we're getting down to. Running and my social life are in a no-holds-barred six-week cage fight to the death. So far its been something of a draw. Last week I did my first planned two-part run. I had a party to go to on Wednesday after work, so first I ran my midweek long run (8 miles) on Tuesday. On Wednesday I ran three miles at lunch, then two more after I got back from the party around 7:30. Thursday was five miles at the gym, then pizza and canasta with my friend who is (tragically) moving to Milwaukee.
Plus, as I mentioned, I went to the coast last weekend. There was not the remotest chance in hell that I would skip a long run, so I went to bed early (right when things were warming up…siiiiiiiiiiiigh) and ran 19 miles along the Siletz River south of Lincoln City, OR. (Digression: Oh man!! If every long run could be like this long run, I would run 8 more marathons this year. It was, seriously, just about perfect: I was dressed perfectly for the weather, which was ideal; the scenery was beautiful; there were mile markers on the road, so I didn't have to guess; I had just enough Gatorade and ShotBloks [secondary digression: I'm now devoted to ShotBloks]; it was not easy but I never stopped and only once around mile 17 did I even truly desire to walk; there were some nice hills to give my legs a change of pace; I did my ice bath in the ocean; and I left for the run early enough that despite having to take an ocean bath and then shower [I had sand in…everything], I was still ready to roll at the same time as everyone else. Marvelous.) This week is more of the same – I'm taking Friday off and heading to Sunriver with some friends. I can't do my long run on Saturday because a) Sunriver is covered in snow and b) I agreed to go snowshoeing. Luckily the run is only 13 miles, which is (knock on wood) practically easy at this point. My plan is to run 10 miles today, 6 miles tomorrow, and the 13 miles on Thursday. That gives me 29 miles for the week, which is only two below my scheduled distance. If I have time on Sunday after I get home I'll knock out a quick 2-3 miler to reach my goal. I'm hoping that I don't feel terrible clumping all my mileage together like this, but it's really the only option that allows me to pretend like I still have a life.
I was thinking about it, and I shouldn’t really complain because this was my decision, yada yada, but this blog would be like two paragraphs if I never complained, so here goes. Last week was actually my peak mileage week at 37; I have a few more 35 miles weeks coming up. My pace is (a little bit) faster than 10 min/mile, but when you factor in changing, warm-up, stretching, cool-down, ice-bath, etc., running 35 miles a week is like having a part-time job. I seriously cannot fathom how normal people who have a job and a family churn out 50-mile weeks (aside from running much faster than I do). More than anything, it's the time commitment that makes me hesitant to commit to another marathon. Particularly now that summer is on its way, with all the hiking, and the barbecues, the weekend camping trips and the dragon-boating. Practice for DB starts March 1…eek. I'm thankful there is just a month of overlap between racing and running. I think I'm tired now…
Plus, as I mentioned, I went to the coast last weekend. There was not the remotest chance in hell that I would skip a long run, so I went to bed early (right when things were warming up…siiiiiiiiiiiigh) and ran 19 miles along the Siletz River south of Lincoln City, OR. (Digression: Oh man!! If every long run could be like this long run, I would run 8 more marathons this year. It was, seriously, just about perfect: I was dressed perfectly for the weather, which was ideal; the scenery was beautiful; there were mile markers on the road, so I didn't have to guess; I had just enough Gatorade and ShotBloks [secondary digression: I'm now devoted to ShotBloks]; it was not easy but I never stopped and only once around mile 17 did I even truly desire to walk; there were some nice hills to give my legs a change of pace; I did my ice bath in the ocean; and I left for the run early enough that despite having to take an ocean bath and then shower [I had sand in…everything], I was still ready to roll at the same time as everyone else. Marvelous.) This week is more of the same – I'm taking Friday off and heading to Sunriver with some friends. I can't do my long run on Saturday because a) Sunriver is covered in snow and b) I agreed to go snowshoeing. Luckily the run is only 13 miles, which is (knock on wood) practically easy at this point. My plan is to run 10 miles today, 6 miles tomorrow, and the 13 miles on Thursday. That gives me 29 miles for the week, which is only two below my scheduled distance. If I have time on Sunday after I get home I'll knock out a quick 2-3 miler to reach my goal. I'm hoping that I don't feel terrible clumping all my mileage together like this, but it's really the only option that allows me to pretend like I still have a life.
I was thinking about it, and I shouldn’t really complain because this was my decision, yada yada, but this blog would be like two paragraphs if I never complained, so here goes. Last week was actually my peak mileage week at 37; I have a few more 35 miles weeks coming up. My pace is (a little bit) faster than 10 min/mile, but when you factor in changing, warm-up, stretching, cool-down, ice-bath, etc., running 35 miles a week is like having a part-time job. I seriously cannot fathom how normal people who have a job and a family churn out 50-mile weeks (aside from running much faster than I do). More than anything, it's the time commitment that makes me hesitant to commit to another marathon. Particularly now that summer is on its way, with all the hiking, and the barbecues, the weekend camping trips and the dragon-boating. Practice for DB starts March 1…eek. I'm thankful there is just a month of overlap between racing and running. I think I'm tired now…
Pictures from this weekend. It was SO gorgeous...
Monday, February 11, 2008
Alas, ShotBloks
Hmmm…yeah. Well, first things first, I did twelve miles on Saturday and it was great. For the first time EVER, I ran the SC and was not precipitated on, not even a little. That right there would have made it noteworthy. I was also well-rested because I moved a short run from Thursday to Sunday (Thursday was my B-day), so I had two days' rest going into it. That gave me the confidence to really work on my pace, and I finished the 12 miles in 1:47:06, for a pace of 8:55! Holy crap! It went by in a flash. I don't think I need to tell you how much this boosts my confidence.
The questionable part was that I tried Shot Bloks for the first time. I sort of wondered how you were supposed to ingest them on the run, and then I read a suggestion that you sort of tuck a square into your cheek and let it dissolve. That's nice in theory, but in practice having my cheek puffed out messed with my breathing, and made me feel like a chipmunk. They took forever to dissolve (I ended up chewing them a little because I needed to take another square while the old one was still hanging around). Plus, my tummy (which normally doesn't bother me at all) seemed a little uneasy about the Bloks. It just gurgled and felt vaguely out of sorts. On the other hand – I kept up a 8:55 pace on a relatively long run, and that may be because I pretty much constantly had a Blok in my mouth. On my 19-miler this weekend I think I'll try them again – that is a true long run, and I'll be on one day's rest.
I’m not really nervous about nineteen – now that whatever was bugging me in January is gone I feel great about running. I am a bit anxious about the route, however. At the last minute I was invited to the beach this weekend (and I will never turn down a free beach weekend), so I'm trying to find a route nearby that seems safe. I emailed the local runner's club, hopefully they'll have some suggestions. And for the ice bath – into the ocean!! Can't wait.
The questionable part was that I tried Shot Bloks for the first time. I sort of wondered how you were supposed to ingest them on the run, and then I read a suggestion that you sort of tuck a square into your cheek and let it dissolve. That's nice in theory, but in practice having my cheek puffed out messed with my breathing, and made me feel like a chipmunk. They took forever to dissolve (I ended up chewing them a little because I needed to take another square while the old one was still hanging around). Plus, my tummy (which normally doesn't bother me at all) seemed a little uneasy about the Bloks. It just gurgled and felt vaguely out of sorts. On the other hand – I kept up a 8:55 pace on a relatively long run, and that may be because I pretty much constantly had a Blok in my mouth. On my 19-miler this weekend I think I'll try them again – that is a true long run, and I'll be on one day's rest.
I’m not really nervous about nineteen – now that whatever was bugging me in January is gone I feel great about running. I am a bit anxious about the route, however. At the last minute I was invited to the beach this weekend (and I will never turn down a free beach weekend), so I'm trying to find a route nearby that seems safe. I emailed the local runner's club, hopefully they'll have some suggestions. And for the ice bath – into the ocean!! Can't wait.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Seventeen miles on Saturday – wow.
Even as I was running, I couldn't believe I was doing it. To think my long run just a few months ago was five!
I was indeed in the rain for three hours straight, although it did mix with snow for a while in the middle, which was nice. I think I made the right choice in what I wore, even though I was WAY more bundled up than any of the other runners I saw (all four of them). It's one thing to get soaked to the skin on my short runs during the week, when I can come home and take a hot shower right away. I was concerned about getting soaked in the first half-hour, then having two and half more hours in which to get all chafe-y and uncomfortable.
I'm now convinced that I had a bad, clingy cold the last few weeks. I feel like a new runner now. Not only did I have plenty of energy on Saturday night, on Sunday I was fine. I even contemplated going for a short run, but settled on some yoga and a long walk instead. It is such a huge relief to know that I wasn't feeling crummy from the running but from some lousy germs that I probably got from my dad (thanks, Pop).
***
Now that I'm into the highest mileages I'll be doing, I've been thinking a lot about what to eat after a long run. I know it's important to get a lot of protein, carbs, etc., but I wanted to avoid nutrition bars and recovery powder thingies because they are both expensive and of dubious, perhaps chemical origin. So I googled around for awhile and stumbled across a great recipe on a website which (of course) I cannot locate now. I would give credit where it is due if I wasn't such a spaz.
Anywho, the recipe is below. I really like it. It's fast & easy to make, it's muy tasty, and I can drink it while I'm doing other things like stretching or getting in the ice bath (AAAAHHHHH!).
1 cup milk (soy or dairy)
1/3 cu. of either powdered skim milk or soy protein powder
2 tbs. of instant pudding mix, for flavor and to thicken the shake (I use butterscotch…mmmmm)
4 ice cubes
Combine everything in a blender and pulse until smooth
The original recipe called for dairy milk and the milk powder, neither of which I have at home, ergo I used soy milk & powder. The result was super tasty. The pudding mix, while adding sugar, also makes the shake uber-palatable. I was worried it would be one of those "choke it down, its good for you" things, but now I look forward to it. It fills me up, gives me a lot of protein and carbs, and I haven't been as sore on Sundays since I've been making them (although that may be due to other things too – like shaking off that persistent cold). The added bonus is that it costs like 40 cents a shake, as opposed to $3 and higher for commercial brands.
PS - How much do ice baths *#$%&`%*#$ suck????
I was indeed in the rain for three hours straight, although it did mix with snow for a while in the middle, which was nice. I think I made the right choice in what I wore, even though I was WAY more bundled up than any of the other runners I saw (all four of them). It's one thing to get soaked to the skin on my short runs during the week, when I can come home and take a hot shower right away. I was concerned about getting soaked in the first half-hour, then having two and half more hours in which to get all chafe-y and uncomfortable.
I'm now convinced that I had a bad, clingy cold the last few weeks. I feel like a new runner now. Not only did I have plenty of energy on Saturday night, on Sunday I was fine. I even contemplated going for a short run, but settled on some yoga and a long walk instead. It is such a huge relief to know that I wasn't feeling crummy from the running but from some lousy germs that I probably got from my dad (thanks, Pop).
***
Now that I'm into the highest mileages I'll be doing, I've been thinking a lot about what to eat after a long run. I know it's important to get a lot of protein, carbs, etc., but I wanted to avoid nutrition bars and recovery powder thingies because they are both expensive and of dubious, perhaps chemical origin. So I googled around for awhile and stumbled across a great recipe on a website which (of course) I cannot locate now. I would give credit where it is due if I wasn't such a spaz.
Anywho, the recipe is below. I really like it. It's fast & easy to make, it's muy tasty, and I can drink it while I'm doing other things like stretching or getting in the ice bath (AAAAHHHHH!).
1 cup milk (soy or dairy)
1/3 cu. of either powdered skim milk or soy protein powder
2 tbs. of instant pudding mix, for flavor and to thicken the shake (I use butterscotch…mmmmm)
4 ice cubes
Combine everything in a blender and pulse until smooth
The original recipe called for dairy milk and the milk powder, neither of which I have at home, ergo I used soy milk & powder. The result was super tasty. The pudding mix, while adding sugar, also makes the shake uber-palatable. I was worried it would be one of those "choke it down, its good for you" things, but now I look forward to it. It fills me up, gives me a lot of protein and carbs, and I haven't been as sore on Sundays since I've been making them (although that may be due to other things too – like shaking off that persistent cold). The added bonus is that it costs like 40 cents a shake, as opposed to $3 and higher for commercial brands.
PS - How much do ice baths *#$%&`%*#$ suck????
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Worried I was going to fall on my butt a few times
Last night, again, the thought of running at the gym (this time for over an hour) gave me the shakes. Plus (and this may be TMI for some folks) I was feeling…gassy. There I said it, now the whole world (in theory) knows that I had gas last night. (Sorry mom.) Anyway, I didn't want to be like Amy, so I went home and headed out in the rain. I hadn’t thought of where to run, and sort of assumed I'd just go up to the reservoir. But when I got to where I would turn to head that way I decided to keep going up the mountain. Once I got to the park I remembered why I don’t do that this time of year. Once you are off the streets and inside the park, the frequency of streetlamps goes way down, making it hard to see speed bumps, piles of slick mouldering leaves, and crazy people laying in the street talking about Nirvana (don't know if they meant the band or the state of ultimate enlightenment). And although there are still a surprisingly high number of runners, dog walkers, and bikers out and about in the winter darkness, I can't help but feel nervous in the unlit areas. So I didn't go all the way to the top, just looped around the back and to the reservoir, where I finished up with laps. It was incredibly windy on the more exposed south side – I felt like I was running up against a linebacker. I didn't really track my mileage, just did seventy minutes, so it was probably a little over 7 miles. I felt really good.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Here's hoping
I completed my 15 miles on Saturday. It was hard. I thought ten miles in the rain was bad, then I went fifteen in the sleet & hail. In all honesty it wasn't coming down the entire length of the run. But it stung my face and hands and made the path slippery. The last three miles I increased my pace: one) to see if I could; and two) because I just wanted to be done. I was tired, and that night I went to bed at 7:45. Last week was my first 30-mile week, and it took it out of me. I think/hope I'm still wrestling with a cold, because I could easily go to bed at 8 every night, and I refuse to let this training take over my life.
Today it was sunny and completely beautiful in Portland. An extremely rare day for us this time of year, and I jumped at the chance to run outside on my lunch break. It is runs like the one I enjoyed today that remind me of why I like running in the first place. I was going along the Springwater Corridor at a perfectly comfortable pace, my legs felt good, my breathing was perfect, the sun and wind were on my back, the river was sparkling. I felt a great amount of joy, and it was remarkable to think that this is something that I would seek out – that I would consider running to be a… relaxation activity. It's hard to explain, but I think anyone who feels the need to coerce themselves into exercising knows what I'm trying to get at. Today's run was like a break, like a mini-vacation in the middle of the workday. There is nothing that I could have done that I would have enjoyed more than running four miles in the beautiful sunshine.
That feeling has been missing these last few weeks – this great run came at the perfect time. I've been feeling worn down, and the lingering hip thing has cast a pall over running the past 6 weeks or so. Running was a chore, something to get out of the way so that I could spend the rest of my free time doing "fun" things. But today running was a fun thing. I need to capture that spirit and bottle it so that this weekend, when the rain and snow are due back, I can face my long run with a smile and not a grimace.
Today it was sunny and completely beautiful in Portland. An extremely rare day for us this time of year, and I jumped at the chance to run outside on my lunch break. It is runs like the one I enjoyed today that remind me of why I like running in the first place. I was going along the Springwater Corridor at a perfectly comfortable pace, my legs felt good, my breathing was perfect, the sun and wind were on my back, the river was sparkling. I felt a great amount of joy, and it was remarkable to think that this is something that I would seek out – that I would consider running to be a… relaxation activity. It's hard to explain, but I think anyone who feels the need to coerce themselves into exercising knows what I'm trying to get at. Today's run was like a break, like a mini-vacation in the middle of the workday. There is nothing that I could have done that I would have enjoyed more than running four miles in the beautiful sunshine.
That feeling has been missing these last few weeks – this great run came at the perfect time. I've been feeling worn down, and the lingering hip thing has cast a pall over running the past 6 weeks or so. Running was a chore, something to get out of the way so that I could spend the rest of my free time doing "fun" things. But today running was a fun thing. I need to capture that spirit and bottle it so that this weekend, when the rain and snow are due back, I can face my long run with a smile and not a grimace.
Monday, January 7, 2008
I now consider myself hardcore
Seriously. Saturday I ran 13 miles, ten of which were completed in the pouring rain. On Friday night the forecast was for scattered showers Saturday morning, and when I got up the sky was pretty clear. Now I shouldn’t blame the weather people for deceiving me – I've lived here long enough to know that the weather can pull a 180 in minutes. Really I have only myself to blame. I thought it would be nice to run outside, and if I got sprinkled on, well, that's good experience right?
As I drove down to the Springwater corridor in southeast Portland, it wasn't raining. As I warmed up it wasn't raining, and when I started to run it still wasn't raining. It actually looked as if it might clear up. But then I hit 3 miles, struggling as always, and it started to rain on me. Little piddles at first, then harder and harder until it was seriously pouring. It did that for the next ten miles. What surprised me was that it honestly wasn't that horrible (of course I may be blocking some things out). I think the worst part was that I'd unwisely worn cotton socks, and I was preoccupied that like, at the turnaround point I'd start to get blisters or chafing and have to decide whether to run through it or stop and walk the 6.5 miles back to the car. But it never happened, even though by the end my feet were so wet that every time they hit the ground little jets of water squirted out the front and sides. Other than that I was relatively comfortable. I was wearing breathable capris and top layers that didn't chafe, and a baseball cap that kept the rain out of my eyes (although it got so saturated that water started pooling at the edges and dripping down). I never felt any pain anywhere, although I was really tired by the end. On Sunday (thanks to another horrible ice bath) I was fine, a little stiff. One odd thing was that as soon as I stopped running (oh blessed relief), my knees hurt. Like they were actually tender. After the ice bath they felt pretty much fine, but it was strange that I felt totally fine while running and then had problems walking.
As I mentioned above, the first 3.5 miles pretty much stank. It seems to be my pattern that once I get past the warm-up miles I can settle in and cruise along pretty comfortably. It's hard though, to start off feeling really terrible, and questioning whether you can finish 13 miles when you can't even do four, blah blah blah. It's a mental struggle to keep going. But I do, and then before I know it I'm at the turnaround point. And then I'm done - 13 miles!! A half-marathon!! And I did it in about 2 hours and four minutes. Oh, and no i-Pod! Go me!
As I drove down to the Springwater corridor in southeast Portland, it wasn't raining. As I warmed up it wasn't raining, and when I started to run it still wasn't raining. It actually looked as if it might clear up. But then I hit 3 miles, struggling as always, and it started to rain on me. Little piddles at first, then harder and harder until it was seriously pouring. It did that for the next ten miles. What surprised me was that it honestly wasn't that horrible (of course I may be blocking some things out). I think the worst part was that I'd unwisely worn cotton socks, and I was preoccupied that like, at the turnaround point I'd start to get blisters or chafing and have to decide whether to run through it or stop and walk the 6.5 miles back to the car. But it never happened, even though by the end my feet were so wet that every time they hit the ground little jets of water squirted out the front and sides. Other than that I was relatively comfortable. I was wearing breathable capris and top layers that didn't chafe, and a baseball cap that kept the rain out of my eyes (although it got so saturated that water started pooling at the edges and dripping down). I never felt any pain anywhere, although I was really tired by the end. On Sunday (thanks to another horrible ice bath) I was fine, a little stiff. One odd thing was that as soon as I stopped running (oh blessed relief), my knees hurt. Like they were actually tender. After the ice bath they felt pretty much fine, but it was strange that I felt totally fine while running and then had problems walking.
As I mentioned above, the first 3.5 miles pretty much stank. It seems to be my pattern that once I get past the warm-up miles I can settle in and cruise along pretty comfortably. It's hard though, to start off feeling really terrible, and questioning whether you can finish 13 miles when you can't even do four, blah blah blah. It's a mental struggle to keep going. But I do, and then before I know it I'm at the turnaround point. And then I'm done - 13 miles!! A half-marathon!! And I did it in about 2 hours and four minutes. Oh, and no i-Pod! Go me!
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
distance: 2.5 miles indoors, .5 outdoors
total program distance: 48.5 miles
pain level: minimal aches
Hmmm. Yeah. Change of plans: I HATE TREADMILLS. Oh god do I hate treadmills. I got on, did a walk warm-up for three minutes and then a very light jog for another three. I felt okay at that point, but after I sped up things fell completely apart. I could feel that my form was terrible but each time I tried to adjust I either came close to sliding right off or overcompensated and bumped the front handle bar thingy. It was warm and humid in the gym so I was sweating and thirsty, and of course I had to slow down to drink water (if I can't tweak my form while running, can you IMAGINE the disfigurement that would result if I tried to take a drink?). My shins were hurting and my arms felt all awkward and in the way, and to top it off I'd grabbed a inferior hair elastic so my ponytail was sliding further and further down my head and little bits of hair were escaping and sticking to my neck and cheeks. I was supposed to do 3 miles but I made it to 2.5 and said to myself "you know what? you're miserable. stop doing this." So I did. I did a walking cool down and went home. I tried really hard not to beat myself up over it – I told myself to focus on having a really good run on Wednesday (outdoors of course, I guess I'll be investing in some more running pants).
…But wait! There is a happy coda to the story. I played bridge last night at my friend H's house. She lives about 2 miles from me, so I walked over to stretch out my legs and get a bit more exercise. Well, we had a magnificent time as always. By the last hand no one could remember what was trump and there were several empty wine bottles strewn about. I might have had one glass of wine more than was strictly necessary, but I was feeling great. We wrapped up around 10 and I headed home. It was cold and late, so I thought, "why not catch the bus?" I called to find out when it was coming and found out I had five minutes to make it the .6 miles to the bus stop. For a second I thought "You'll never get there…might as well start walkin' home, kid." Then the puissant, bitchy, capable part of me spoke up and said "Get your butt moving soldier! You owe me half a mile, dammit!" So I started running, in my tired old converse sneakers and jeans, my completely unsupportive underwire bra bouncing around, my tote bag clutched to my chest. I thought that I'd feel pain or discomfort in my legs but no. Running through these quiet, dark streets, seeing and hearing my breath, smelling the wet leaves – somehow it was wonderful. (I'm sure part of this was the wine's gift to me.) Sure I looked goofy, but I caught that bus and thus got an extra 15 minutes of sleep. So I'd say that my running day yesterday was glorious.
total program distance: 48.5 miles
pain level: minimal aches
Hmmm. Yeah. Change of plans: I HATE TREADMILLS. Oh god do I hate treadmills. I got on, did a walk warm-up for three minutes and then a very light jog for another three. I felt okay at that point, but after I sped up things fell completely apart. I could feel that my form was terrible but each time I tried to adjust I either came close to sliding right off or overcompensated and bumped the front handle bar thingy. It was warm and humid in the gym so I was sweating and thirsty, and of course I had to slow down to drink water (if I can't tweak my form while running, can you IMAGINE the disfigurement that would result if I tried to take a drink?). My shins were hurting and my arms felt all awkward and in the way, and to top it off I'd grabbed a inferior hair elastic so my ponytail was sliding further and further down my head and little bits of hair were escaping and sticking to my neck and cheeks. I was supposed to do 3 miles but I made it to 2.5 and said to myself "you know what? you're miserable. stop doing this." So I did. I did a walking cool down and went home. I tried really hard not to beat myself up over it – I told myself to focus on having a really good run on Wednesday (outdoors of course, I guess I'll be investing in some more running pants).
…But wait! There is a happy coda to the story. I played bridge last night at my friend H's house. She lives about 2 miles from me, so I walked over to stretch out my legs and get a bit more exercise. Well, we had a magnificent time as always. By the last hand no one could remember what was trump and there were several empty wine bottles strewn about. I might have had one glass of wine more than was strictly necessary, but I was feeling great. We wrapped up around 10 and I headed home. It was cold and late, so I thought, "why not catch the bus?" I called to find out when it was coming and found out I had five minutes to make it the .6 miles to the bus stop. For a second I thought "You'll never get there…might as well start walkin' home, kid." Then the puissant, bitchy, capable part of me spoke up and said "Get your butt moving soldier! You owe me half a mile, dammit!" So I started running, in my tired old converse sneakers and jeans, my completely unsupportive underwire bra bouncing around, my tote bag clutched to my chest. I thought that I'd feel pain or discomfort in my legs but no. Running through these quiet, dark streets, seeing and hearing my breath, smelling the wet leaves – somehow it was wonderful. (I'm sure part of this was the wine's gift to me.) Sure I looked goofy, but I caught that bus and thus got an extra 15 minutes of sleep. So I'd say that my running day yesterday was glorious.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Back at Home and Feelin' Fine
I got back from Montana this morning and immediately laced on my shoes and went running. The gorgeous weather is hanging on this year, it's really a treat. Normally by this time Portland hasn't seen the sun for weeks and we all plod around with vaguely damp feet that just never quite dry out. But today? Mostly sunny and highs in the 60s. If this is global warming, sign me up! (Disclaimer: that last line was in jest, please don't write me a pedantic email about it. MOM - I'm talking to you here.)
Anyway, since the weather was so gorgeous I was excited to get out there. I did my runs in Montana - holy frijoles what a gorgeous place, it was hard to run for all the scenery-and I was feeling full of energy. I didn't have a route planned out (I was scheduled for 6 miles), but I sort of guess based on my last fiver, and headed out. It was pretty much an out-and-back, and when I was still shy of the halfway mark I checked my watch. It said I'd already been out 27 minutes! Boo! That would have put me below a 10 min mile pace, since according to my (unresearched) route I was below 3 miles at that point. But I felt like I was going my normal 9:30 speed. By the last mile I was completely determined to make my 10-min mile pace and really pushed myself. I missed it by three minutes..but that turned out to be okay. See, when I mapped my run it turns out I did 6.9 miles! Holy moly! That's like a 9:10 pace (or something close to it, I haven't quite got the hang of the seconds thing). And I felt good, strong, no pain. I was tired but I felt like I could have kept going. I now feel like SUPERWOMAN! I love this!
Anyway, since the weather was so gorgeous I was excited to get out there. I did my runs in Montana - holy frijoles what a gorgeous place, it was hard to run for all the scenery-and I was feeling full of energy. I didn't have a route planned out (I was scheduled for 6 miles), but I sort of guess based on my last fiver, and headed out. It was pretty much an out-and-back, and when I was still shy of the halfway mark I checked my watch. It said I'd already been out 27 minutes! Boo! That would have put me below a 10 min mile pace, since according to my (unresearched) route I was below 3 miles at that point. But I felt like I was going my normal 9:30 speed. By the last mile I was completely determined to make my 10-min mile pace and really pushed myself. I missed it by three minutes..but that turned out to be okay. See, when I mapped my run it turns out I did 6.9 miles! Holy moly! That's like a 9:10 pace (or something close to it, I haven't quite got the hang of the seconds thing). And I felt good, strong, no pain. I was tired but I felt like I could have kept going. I now feel like SUPERWOMAN! I love this!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
