Now I have to figure out what to do with myself tomorrow. Here’s the thing:
I need
...My god, I'm a total addict.
Showing posts with label personal insanity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal insanity. Show all posts
Friday, July 10, 2009
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
...My god, I'm a total addict.
Now I have to figure out what to do with myself tomorrow. Here’s the thing:
I need
...My god, I'm a total addict.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
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!
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!
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.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
My body is cashing checks my ego can't...wait...what?
I started lifting weights last year for a variety of reasons but mainly because I was developing under-arm jiggle and it scared me. I built up to a 3-days a week weight-lifting routine, which I actually enjoyed. I find lifting weights very satisfying for some reason. Anyway, now that I am running so much I've cut back to just once a week. Normally I lift weights on Sunday, so that I have Monday (a rest day) to recover. Since I ran on Sunday, I lifted on Monday, giving me no day to recover between lifting weights and running. And just to clarify, I don't do the wimpy girly weight-training where you do like 30 reps of a 10-pound weight. I do a reasonably comprehensive set of exercises at pretty much the max weight that I can, so I tend to have muscle fatigue the day after. Generally I kind of like the feeling, as it isn't painful at all, just a noticeable kind of tiredness. Makes me feel virtuous. But add that to my still-tender little legs and you get a BAD RUN. BAD BAD BAD. Did I mention my run yesterday was BAD? Ugh. I almost called it quits at mile 2, and my left hip still hurts. I'm trying to decide whether to attempt my five miles after work today or skip it as a precaution and ride the exercise bike instead. I think I will warm-up and see how I feel. I have a tendency to obsess about things - right now I'm having a very strident internal dialogue about whether skipping one little mid-week run will derail my entire dream of running a marathon. (It couldn’t, its just five miles in a training program of hundreds of miles) (Are you sure?!) (Yes. No. Yes. Well, maybe.) (What if it did?) (Well, what if I do run and I aggravate my hip and I can't train for weeks?) What if, what if, what if? Sigh. My internal self needs a good slap across the face.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
True confession:
I am a terrible, terrible bowler. I'm not quite sure how I ended up in two bowling leagues this fall, but it sure wasn't by having any sort of skill or talent at bowling. The worst part is that I'm not even consistently bad. That would be amusing and forgivable. No, I have to show flashes of brilliance that instill a false sense of hope in my soon-to-be heartbroken teammates. I might start a game with a strike, then follow up with 3/-, 5/-, and 0/-. It's just wrong.
Tonight is the NOVA broadcast of Marathon Challenge. It's showing in Oregon on OPB at 8pm (that's Channel 10 for PDXers). I've had this on my calendar since I read it about last month. It is a documentary about a group of first-time marathoners training for the Boston Marathon. The BM is one of those near-mythical occurrences that I know exist, but can't imagine ever participating in, like reaching the top of Mount Everest or finding a gas station downtown. To qualify for Boston I'd have to run an 8:25/mile pace. HA! I laugh. I'm all for positive thinking but let's not get crazy. My goal is to finish the darn thing, I'll worry about my time later. Thus I'm hoping to live vicariously through the people I see on TV (because no one's ever done that before…), and get a sense of what it's like from this program.
No running last night (rest day), but I did go to the gym and use an odd machine that was like the offspring of an elliptical trainer and a stair climber. I wanted to ride the bike so I could read, but I went to the Hollywood 24 Hour Fitness which is completely packed on Mondays (okay, all the time). I almost miss the old Hollywood 24HF – yes it was kind of like the dive bar of gyms, kind of seedy and dank, and yes my umbrella was stolen there, but it was never outrageously crowded and the people that went there seemed less jerky than the ones that flood the new building. Or maybe its just that the lighting is so much better now. Either way, I always felt comfortable in the old space, the new one: not so much.
***
The picture below is one I took on a trip to Newport in March this year. Apparently, the Newport Marathon is really awesome...and it's close by...and I'm a crazy person to even consider it....
Tonight is the NOVA broadcast of Marathon Challenge. It's showing in Oregon on OPB at 8pm (that's Channel 10 for PDXers). I've had this on my calendar since I read it about last month. It is a documentary about a group of first-time marathoners training for the Boston Marathon. The BM is one of those near-mythical occurrences that I know exist, but can't imagine ever participating in, like reaching the top of Mount Everest or finding a gas station downtown. To qualify for Boston I'd have to run an 8:25/mile pace. HA! I laugh. I'm all for positive thinking but let's not get crazy. My goal is to finish the darn thing, I'll worry about my time later. Thus I'm hoping to live vicariously through the people I see on TV (because no one's ever done that before…), and get a sense of what it's like from this program.
No running last night (rest day), but I did go to the gym and use an odd machine that was like the offspring of an elliptical trainer and a stair climber. I wanted to ride the bike so I could read, but I went to the Hollywood 24 Hour Fitness which is completely packed on Mondays (okay, all the time). I almost miss the old Hollywood 24HF – yes it was kind of like the dive bar of gyms, kind of seedy and dank, and yes my umbrella was stolen there, but it was never outrageously crowded and the people that went there seemed less jerky than the ones that flood the new building. Or maybe its just that the lighting is so much better now. Either way, I always felt comfortable in the old space, the new one: not so much.
***
The picture below is one I took on a trip to Newport in March this year. Apparently, the Newport Marathon is really awesome...and it's close by...and I'm a crazy person to even consider it....
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