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.

distance last week: 16.9 miles (outdoors)
total program distance: 45.5 miles
pain level: my right arm is aching from all the bowling. But everything else is fizz-ine.

As I mentioned below, running in Montana was great. I was staying at a ranch off a hardpack dirt road, very easy on the legs. What wasn't easy on the legs was the temperature in the mornings. On Tuesday it was 20 degrees! I'm sure people from the Northern plains are scoffing and snorting into their mufflers at my puny, weak Portlandian tolerance for cold, but man, it was COLD. Portland sees 20 degrees maybe twice a year. The running pants I brought were grossly inadequate, and I never felt like I really warmed up. Consequently, I ran in the afternoons for the rest of the week and felt much better.

Oh, and of course, as soon as I pointed out how nice the weather has been the rain shows up. And the high winds. Yesterday was one of those days in which it was completely impossible to stay dry because the wind was blowing the rain both sideways and up, somehow, thus rendering even the most advanced, coastal-weather-ready, rain jacket/hat/umbrella combo powerless to stop the soaking. After the first few weeks, though, you stop trying and accept that for the next four months you will be damp at all times. I brought my gym clothes to work today, so I can run on the treadmill. Depending on the weather (oh who am I kidding, it'll be rainy), I think I'll run at the gym during the week and do my long weekend run outside. Yakima has a history of being dry on race day, but there is no point in tempting fate by not acclimating to running in wet weather. (I would run outside more during the week, but I can't stand the thought of a day where I: get up in the dark; go to work in the dark & rain; leave work in the dark & rain; get home, change out of my soggy clothes into dry clothes; and then head back out into the dark & rain to go running. It might break me.) Portland is a great city and there is a lot to recommend it during the winter months, but the weather? Not one of them.

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!

Feeling Righteously Indignant

My friend sent this link to me, knowing the deep, abiding, borderline unhealthy relationship I have with my iPod.
My first knee-jerk reaction was "Are they serious? Who the hell cares?!" Like, how has listening to music become a big enough deal that it is anything but a personal choice? After I read the article and some of the many, many comments, I have some more coherent thoughts. (Disclaimer: obviously, I've never run a marathon before. Heck, I've never run more than 7 miles in a row. But I plan on doing both, so I feel justified in at least expressing my opinions.) First of all, it really pissed me off to read comments like this one: "The whole purpose of running is to be able to put everything aside and just be able to run free for as long as you can, with just your thoughts and the natural sounds of surroundings you are running in." Um, excuse me? Do not tell me why I run. If that is why you run, comment person, then more power to you. But don't go telling me that I'm missing the purpose of running because I listen to music. (Clearly, I tend to get a little overexcited when people tell me what to do in an unreasonable manner...deep breaths…calming, zen-like breaths…) Second, when I run I listen to my music at a reasonable volume (as do most people I've come in contact with). I can hear my own footfalls, I can hear passing cars, dogs barking, I can talk to other runners and walkers if I'm at the track. So I don't buy the safety concerns. Like the article said, no one could come up with a single incident related to headphone wearing. So here's my feeling: if runners want to listen to their headphones, let them. I do not plan on starting the Yakima marathon with my ipod on, however I will be carrying it with me. And when I get to Mile 17 and I'm deep in the canyon and my legs hurt and I'm tired and there is no one else on the road and I really want to stop, I think that what will keep me going is a little infusion of upbeat, happy tunes.

It's odd that I read this today, because last night I made the decision (the PERSONAL decision) to run without my iPod. For one thing I am trying to wean myself off of it a little bit. (I think that it will mean more to me to start out quiet and put it on toward the end of long runs when I'm hurting.) Also, I made the call (it was a PERSONAL decision) that since it was quite dark when I left the house that I should be totally focused on running safely (I also wore a godawful bright yellow reflective vest). The run wasn't great. It kind of stank, actually, but I'm proud I went out at all considering how I felt last night. I know what went wrong: I did a shoddy warm-up. I knew it as soon as I started running but I figured that since it was only three miles I'd be fine. I'm NEVER THINKING THAT AGAIN. One thing that not wearing an ipod will do? It'll make discomfort much harder to hobble on through. I did an extra long cool down to compensate and then stretched for half an hour in front of the TV. I feel fine this morning, so I'm treating it as a lesson learned and moving on. Fingers crossed, my 6-miler this weekend will go more smoothly. I haven't run six miles in years! But I know I can do it! Positive thinking! Woot!

Heading to Big Sky Country

distance: 4.3 miles (outdoors) total program distance: 22.6 miles pain level: naught

I'm off to Missoula, Montana next week. I've never been, but somehow I know a dozen people from there (I swear there are all of 12 native Portlanders left in the city). (Hyperbole content of the previous sentence: elevated.) They all say its gorgeous, and I have a list of Things To Do and See. I'm excited about getting some time off, going horseback riding, snowshoeing, hot springs-ing, relaxing. And I get to run in a whole new state! Joyous day! Seriously though, I'm bringing all my gear and I plan on following my schedule while there. I don't know if I'll have internet access or not, so there may be no posts. But come on, it's Montana not Borneo! (And even Borneo had internet cafes.) Hopefully I'll be able to update.
My run last night was good. Again, no discomfort, but I'm beginning to think it might be the shoes after all. When I got back inside I took them off to stretch and immediately my right big toe (which had been hurting for reasons unrelated to running – note to self, don't leave a large heavy chair in between your bed and bathroom, drink a full glass of water before hitting the sack, and then try to navigate in the dark at 2am…) began to throb and my right front calf got a little achy. So perhaps the Mizunos are indeed marvelous. As I have no desire to scientifically experiment and determine which change is responsible for my now pain-free running experience, I'm going to keep things just the way they are.
Digression: As I mentioned earlier (I think, I'm too lazy to check), I started running again this summer as way to exercise outdoors on weekdays rather than be stuck in the gym starting longingly at the sunshine. I know a lot of people really hate gyms, which is fair enough – I don't particularly like going myself. But what I've found is that if I bring my clothes with me and plan to go after work, I will go. If you've ever tried to make a commitment to a gym, I think you know what I'm getting at when I emphasize that accomplishment. No matter how sincere you are about getting fit, it's really easy to talk yourself out of going to the gym, especially if you have to go home to change and then try to leave again. Your couch becomes a black hole sucking you, a beer, and a bag of chips into downward into a spiral of laziness and indolence. Today feels like one of those days to me, and I'm really wishing I had brought my clothes to work so I could just head to the gym, run on the treadmill, plod home, and fall into the sweet embrace of my couch.