Now that I'm training for the Tri, [ blog post on that coming] my biggest thing I forget is turning on the Garmin. Mileage and keeping track is big for me, I've always been like that, whether it's tracking calories, minutes left of the workday, hours before I go on a trip, people to arrive at a party, money left until payday....I just need to track.
So why is it so damn hard to remember to turn on the Garmin when I leave?! On a bike ride on Friday night, I was so happy to think that I'd end up doing a 5 miler for the day, or more. That's awesome....When I went to check my stats, it was 0.00. 15 minutes into a ride. Had I not been with my husband and kiddo, I seriously would have turned around and started over. Yes, apparently I am that anal. I did suggest turning around and the response I got was somewhere between a joking guffaw and a 'you're mental'. So I said forget it. Yes, I know I can always go on mapmyride.com, but I don't know how accurate that is, especially since it can't possibly get the 'details' of the street. I know... stupid, right?
I know there's such a thing called 'naked running/riding' where you just run to run. Or ride, or walk, or whatever. I don't know that I could do that just yet. I need "credit" for my efforts, if nothing else then to just see the numbers whizzing past on my watch or to see the numbers on the computer screen later. It somehow validates my efforts, because let's face it, we don't see results after a workout, right? Sure, a series of workouts we'll see results. but one single one? Nope.
For me, the sad fact that knowing that I've put in a great effort isn't good enough.
I must know numbers. Which is why I also wear a separate heart rate monitor watch on the other wrist. Yes, My Garmin does track calories, but I also fear the accuracy of that, so for the time being I double up to check the accuracy.
It's the "credit" I need. Telling myself how hard I worked, or even others noticing how hard I worked isn't enough for me. I need more. Thinking about it now, it seems so odd that the better accountability/reward for me is not human, but from a machine. Maybe because I know the machine won't lie to me to spare my feelings. I've seen that before, being congratulated on a good job, even through I know it was anything but...a machine is simply going to state the facts, not the emotions behind it, not the congratulations or disappointments...simply the facts. It's the reaction of those facts that I probably need to work on. *sigh* It's always something....
Monday, May 13, 2013
Friday, April 26, 2013
God, What IS it With This Sport?!?
I've been known to have a few addictions/habits/obsessions in my life throughout the years, junk foods, Ebay, cigarettes, sodas, shoes...whatever. But running as a habit/addiction is as normal to me as growing a left foot outta my head. Seriously?
I did a ton of back to back races, events over the last couple of months and I'm burned out. My husband grew tired of me doing a race every other weekend, and mentoring in between, and I agreed. I was glad to finish the last ten miler last weekend, as that was going to be my last for awhile.
So why in God's name did I just put two more possible races on my calendar?
This is what baffles me. I psyche myself out and screw with myself mentally for weeks leading up to a race. I freak myself out with exactly what I can't even remember, put off training, screw it up a bit here and there. Failing to sleep, drink water or eat anything but mini cinnamon rolls. I conquer the race, often by the Grace of God, then beat the hell out of myself for not doing as well as I'd liked.
I learn my lessons over and over again, I know what I need to do, do some of it, do it half assed and then decide how I'm going to do it better. I told myself no more races until I get my sh!t in line. Until I start working out and training for an actual race, and working harder.
But I can't stop! I want more races...I'm at the point where I tell myself I don't care if I'm slow, or it's hard, I just want to keep going and going and going. I'm fearing if I stop, I'll sit on the couch and never ever move again. Yes, I believe I still have that capability. It scares me to death.
I was just about to register for another race coming up in July, then I realized I promised my husband no more races. He'd see it on the bank account transaction.
I won't sneak around with another man, secret credit cards, or a drinking/drug problem, but maybe with a racing problem. I'm sitting here trying to come up with ways to register and not have him know about it. Or maybe tell him I'm required to for the program I mentor. Or maybe I was forced to by aliens. Or that it's a charity benefitting his mother. Sigh.
I'm so very lucky that he supports me in this strange quest/obsession that I seem to be developing stronger and stronger every week.
But what a thrill it is to have something I want that's actually GOOD for me!!
I did a ton of back to back races, events over the last couple of months and I'm burned out. My husband grew tired of me doing a race every other weekend, and mentoring in between, and I agreed. I was glad to finish the last ten miler last weekend, as that was going to be my last for awhile.
So why in God's name did I just put two more possible races on my calendar?
This is what baffles me. I psyche myself out and screw with myself mentally for weeks leading up to a race. I freak myself out with exactly what I can't even remember, put off training, screw it up a bit here and there. Failing to sleep, drink water or eat anything but mini cinnamon rolls. I conquer the race, often by the Grace of God, then beat the hell out of myself for not doing as well as I'd liked.
I learn my lessons over and over again, I know what I need to do, do some of it, do it half assed and then decide how I'm going to do it better. I told myself no more races until I get my sh!t in line. Until I start working out and training for an actual race, and working harder.
But I can't stop! I want more races...I'm at the point where I tell myself I don't care if I'm slow, or it's hard, I just want to keep going and going and going. I'm fearing if I stop, I'll sit on the couch and never ever move again. Yes, I believe I still have that capability. It scares me to death.
I was just about to register for another race coming up in July, then I realized I promised my husband no more races. He'd see it on the bank account transaction.
I won't sneak around with another man, secret credit cards, or a drinking/drug problem, but maybe with a racing problem. I'm sitting here trying to come up with ways to register and not have him know about it. Or maybe tell him I'm required to for the program I mentor. Or maybe I was forced to by aliens. Or that it's a charity benefitting his mother. Sigh.
I'm so very lucky that he supports me in this strange quest/obsession that I seem to be developing stronger and stronger every week.
But what a thrill it is to have something I want that's actually GOOD for me!!
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Our Own Worst Critics
A woman I work with started quilt making about the same time I started running. A little more than a year later, she's made dozens of projects from baby quilts to bed quilts to table runners, each one being more breathtaking than the last. Her talent absolutely astounds me. Moments ago, I sat in the office break room while she worked on her latest creation, discussing her plans to potentially turn her craft into a business. She mentioned it had been a little more than a year since starting and my through wandered back to my own seemingly lack of accomplishment in the same amount of time. After a compliment on her talent, she scoffed.
I told her she didn't give herself enough credit and she responded " we never do."
Its true.
Why IS that? That is so incredibly annoying. I do it daily, with pretty much everything I see, touch, think about or try. I think for me personally, it's because I fear if I give myself too much credit, I'll let myself down and be disappointed with myself. Maybe I fear being arrogant? Maybe I fear the expectation both myself and others would have for me? Who knows.
I have a quote on my office wall that I found many years ago.
" Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you NOT to be?
Your playing small doesn't serve the world.
There's nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory within us.
It's not just in some of us; It's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fewer,
our presence automatically liberates others. "
Marianne Williamson
It seems to fit for so many in so many situations. I think for many, we cover our true light with nonsense and garbage because we fear what will happen when we let our true selves shine. Is there ever a way to truly let ourselves shine without any kind of fear of repercussion? Is it possible?
We earn the right to shine. Not always, not with everything, but it's there. Perhaps it's not a sport we shine in, but our parenting skills. Perhaps were not the most patient with children, but it's a mad cooking skill that can make us shine.
There's a scene in one of my favorite movies, Sex & The City 2 where the girls are in some Middle Eastern country, and they meet upon some women dressed in the traditional black garb ( called the hijab, I think?) , covering everything. Once hidden, the women remove the thick black coverings and veils to reveal beautiful, expensive and shiny designer clothing underneath with amazing makeup and hair.
So here's the challenge: Remove your coverings, your veil and let your light shine. There is a good chance you might not even know what it is, but it's there. If you don't see it, chances are someone else might.
I told her she didn't give herself enough credit and she responded " we never do."
Its true.
Why IS that? That is so incredibly annoying. I do it daily, with pretty much everything I see, touch, think about or try. I think for me personally, it's because I fear if I give myself too much credit, I'll let myself down and be disappointed with myself. Maybe I fear being arrogant? Maybe I fear the expectation both myself and others would have for me? Who knows.
I have a quote on my office wall that I found many years ago.
" Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you NOT to be?
Your playing small doesn't serve the world.
There's nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory within us.
It's not just in some of us; It's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fewer,
our presence automatically liberates others. "
Marianne Williamson
It seems to fit for so many in so many situations. I think for many, we cover our true light with nonsense and garbage because we fear what will happen when we let our true selves shine. Is there ever a way to truly let ourselves shine without any kind of fear of repercussion? Is it possible?
We earn the right to shine. Not always, not with everything, but it's there. Perhaps it's not a sport we shine in, but our parenting skills. Perhaps were not the most patient with children, but it's a mad cooking skill that can make us shine.
There's a scene in one of my favorite movies, Sex & The City 2 where the girls are in some Middle Eastern country, and they meet upon some women dressed in the traditional black garb ( called the hijab, I think?) , covering everything. Once hidden, the women remove the thick black coverings and veils to reveal beautiful, expensive and shiny designer clothing underneath with amazing makeup and hair.
So here's the challenge: Remove your coverings, your veil and let your light shine. There is a good chance you might not even know what it is, but it's there. If you don't see it, chances are someone else might.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Were Not Broken, Just Bent
P!nk told me this through my radio this morning and it felt like it really fit the moment.
"Just give me a reason
Just a little bit's enough
Just a second, we're not broken~just bent
And we can learn to love again
It's in the stars
It's been written in the scars on our hearts
We're not broken~ just bent
And we can learn to love again"
In a nation that's hurting, scarred with fear and distrust, so many are looking for comfort. The pieces are being picked up, the funerals of the slain are being planned, injured victims are being brought to light, and stories are being told. The pick up and healing will start to begin.
While I'm not one for politics, Barrack Obama, our Nations leader said this:
" I have no doubt you will run again, yes, you will run again"
I think that kind of sums it up for runners at this point. Damn straight we'll run again. In fact, I think this horrific tragedy has brought to light some of the things about the running community that I've come to know and love:
1) No Fear of Fear: runners seem to face fear everyday. Fear of the run itself, fear of injury, pain, fatigue or attack, a 'bathroom issue', a mean dog.... Yet we run on.
2) Compassion: Seeing someone hurt or struggle, we feel it too. We've been there, we know how hard it is too. A sympathetic smile or pat on the back is sometimes all we can do, but we feel it.
3) Pride: That runner who's struggling so much, makes us proud. The guy who finished last, makes us proud. The fact that were out there, makes us proud. We run for our own pride, not to prove a point, not to gain fame.
4) Love: The love of the sport, the love of the burning lungs, screaming muscles, and still pushing forward. The love of the community and the people we are with each other. Caring, loving, supportive individuals who are all in it for one purpose.
5) Determination: I've seen some incredible feats not only in myself, but others I've known. Coming back after an injury, or a long hiatus off running, pushing limits like crazy.
I know there are more, but I think you get the point. Running is simply a beautiful community. One most people don't want to explore ( I so get that, it's hard!!) or would have no idea what exists behind what they see.
I truly think the tragedy in Boston three days ago has opened up a new light into the sport and while some might be intrigued, I think even more will discover it's something they want to be a part of.
"Just give me a reason
Just a little bit's enough
Just a second, we're not broken~just bent
And we can learn to love again
It's in the stars
It's been written in the scars on our hearts
We're not broken~ just bent
And we can learn to love again"
In a nation that's hurting, scarred with fear and distrust, so many are looking for comfort. The pieces are being picked up, the funerals of the slain are being planned, injured victims are being brought to light, and stories are being told. The pick up and healing will start to begin.
While I'm not one for politics, Barrack Obama, our Nations leader said this:
" I have no doubt you will run again, yes, you will run again"
I think that kind of sums it up for runners at this point. Damn straight we'll run again. In fact, I think this horrific tragedy has brought to light some of the things about the running community that I've come to know and love:
1) No Fear of Fear: runners seem to face fear everyday. Fear of the run itself, fear of injury, pain, fatigue or attack, a 'bathroom issue', a mean dog.... Yet we run on.
2) Compassion: Seeing someone hurt or struggle, we feel it too. We've been there, we know how hard it is too. A sympathetic smile or pat on the back is sometimes all we can do, but we feel it.
3) Pride: That runner who's struggling so much, makes us proud. The guy who finished last, makes us proud. The fact that were out there, makes us proud. We run for our own pride, not to prove a point, not to gain fame.
4) Love: The love of the sport, the love of the burning lungs, screaming muscles, and still pushing forward. The love of the community and the people we are with each other. Caring, loving, supportive individuals who are all in it for one purpose.
5) Determination: I've seen some incredible feats not only in myself, but others I've known. Coming back after an injury, or a long hiatus off running, pushing limits like crazy.
I know there are more, but I think you get the point. Running is simply a beautiful community. One most people don't want to explore ( I so get that, it's hard!!) or would have no idea what exists behind what they see.
I truly think the tragedy in Boston three days ago has opened up a new light into the sport and while some might be intrigued, I think even more will discover it's something they want to be a part of.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Boston: Possible Suspect in Custody
Like so many other horrific scenes over the history of our time, we watch with horror a scene of death, destruction, and devastation. The Waco Siege, April, 1993; Oklahoma City Bombing, April, 1995; Columbine High school, April 1999; and now the Boston Marathon bombing, April 2013.
In the aftermath of these events and many others, we wait with baited breath for the outcome. Will a suspect be caught and punished? Will there ever be closure for anyone? Will out society bounce back from this?
The question on so many minds is simply: Why?
The hard cold fact is that we may never know or understand. As with other events, we wait for an end to the sadness, the devastation we see, the fear of runners everywhere. It's just been reported there is a suspect in custody over the Boston Marathon bombings. Is it the right guy? Has the suspect been leading law enforcement on a rabbit chase? Was there a motive? What was the reasoning behind this? Was this some kind of political demonstration? Who is this guy? Does he have a mental illness?
In all reality, what would be a proper answer to any of that? Is there a reason or an answer that would satisfy anyone at this point? Likely not. I can't think of any possible reason any of that would be acceptable. None. Zilch. Can anyone?
In the following days, chances are that there will be more information about the possible suspect that is now in custody. Brace yourselves. This could be even more angering, even more devastating when it could turn out to be for absolutely nothing. Like the Sandy Hook Shootings, The Colorado movie theatre shootings....there was no reason, no explanation of it all. Only one persons mental illness. We have to prepare for that as well. That it's just one of those things...that we may never know.
In the aftermath of these events and many others, we wait with baited breath for the outcome. Will a suspect be caught and punished? Will there ever be closure for anyone? Will out society bounce back from this?
The question on so many minds is simply: Why?
The hard cold fact is that we may never know or understand. As with other events, we wait for an end to the sadness, the devastation we see, the fear of runners everywhere. It's just been reported there is a suspect in custody over the Boston Marathon bombings. Is it the right guy? Has the suspect been leading law enforcement on a rabbit chase? Was there a motive? What was the reasoning behind this? Was this some kind of political demonstration? Who is this guy? Does he have a mental illness?
In all reality, what would be a proper answer to any of that? Is there a reason or an answer that would satisfy anyone at this point? Likely not. I can't think of any possible reason any of that would be acceptable. None. Zilch. Can anyone?
In the following days, chances are that there will be more information about the possible suspect that is now in custody. Brace yourselves. This could be even more angering, even more devastating when it could turn out to be for absolutely nothing. Like the Sandy Hook Shootings, The Colorado movie theatre shootings....there was no reason, no explanation of it all. Only one persons mental illness. We have to prepare for that as well. That it's just one of those things...that we may never know.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Boston: Love vs. Hate
While reading Facebook today, a friend of mine posted his difficulty sleeping last night due to his disgust of the human race. It broke my heart, but understandably, there's so many questions, and the immensity of the sadness and anger fills the world over the tragedy of the Boston Marathon. It could become so incredibly easy to turn a heart cold and let hatred and anger.
But further anger is not going to help any. Seeing the constant horrific news clips of fear, smoke, blood and tears isn't going to do it either.
What will help? Looking for the light. It's there.
I've heard a few stories about the Boston Tragedy that made my heart smile. A man leading both runners and spectators into his nearby condo for safety, phones and Internet. People literally ripping the shirts off their backs to make bandages and tourniquets, people helping strangers get away, stand up, or to simply survive. People pouring into the hospitals to give blood. The outpouring of love, prayers and emotional vibes being sent to Boston is simply overwhelming. If there was any way victims and their families could actually see or feel that love, I fear it would almost be too much. It seems there is a rare American right now who's heart is not aching, and is not sending vibes of love, strength or simple prayers to anyone affected.
That in itself is a beautiful thing. People around us, no doubt are also reeling with these emotional conflicts from hell. Do we hate or do we love? If we love one another, is that going to prevent something horrible from happening next week? If we hate one another, will that make us more prepared for the attack on humanity that is inevitably coming next? It's a hard call, to be honest. In a world where a horrific violent event is shaking us to our core every single week, are we ever going to become immune to that?
We can't. If events like the bombing of the Boston Marathon or the shootings at Sandy Hook become our normal everyday events, then the loss of life will become a mainstay of life. We will look at each other and start to wonder " are you next?" We will look at everyone as a potential suspect, evil being, terrorist and never ever resemble the human race again.
We have to believe that the love and human kindness outweighs the evil and hatred. If we believe on it, perhaps it will make it easier to act upon that as well. No, I suppose helping the elderly with a heavy bag is not going to make terrorism and hatred go away, but it's a step. Not only will it make us feel better, doing our part, but it might inspire someone else as well.
Boston is going to take some time. Reports are going to be coming in of injured number rising, perhaps even more deaths. At some point, we can hope the perpetrator will be caught and punished. I do so hope the media will continue to make light of some of the heroes that have yet to be seen.
But if the don't? Look for it. Even today, with the news coming in every hour, Google "Boston Marathon Heroes" and see what comes up. It's there. Look for the light.
But further anger is not going to help any. Seeing the constant horrific news clips of fear, smoke, blood and tears isn't going to do it either.
What will help? Looking for the light. It's there.
I've heard a few stories about the Boston Tragedy that made my heart smile. A man leading both runners and spectators into his nearby condo for safety, phones and Internet. People literally ripping the shirts off their backs to make bandages and tourniquets, people helping strangers get away, stand up, or to simply survive. People pouring into the hospitals to give blood. The outpouring of love, prayers and emotional vibes being sent to Boston is simply overwhelming. If there was any way victims and their families could actually see or feel that love, I fear it would almost be too much. It seems there is a rare American right now who's heart is not aching, and is not sending vibes of love, strength or simple prayers to anyone affected.
That in itself is a beautiful thing. People around us, no doubt are also reeling with these emotional conflicts from hell. Do we hate or do we love? If we love one another, is that going to prevent something horrible from happening next week? If we hate one another, will that make us more prepared for the attack on humanity that is inevitably coming next? It's a hard call, to be honest. In a world where a horrific violent event is shaking us to our core every single week, are we ever going to become immune to that?
We can't. If events like the bombing of the Boston Marathon or the shootings at Sandy Hook become our normal everyday events, then the loss of life will become a mainstay of life. We will look at each other and start to wonder " are you next?" We will look at everyone as a potential suspect, evil being, terrorist and never ever resemble the human race again.
We have to believe that the love and human kindness outweighs the evil and hatred. If we believe on it, perhaps it will make it easier to act upon that as well. No, I suppose helping the elderly with a heavy bag is not going to make terrorism and hatred go away, but it's a step. Not only will it make us feel better, doing our part, but it might inspire someone else as well.
Boston is going to take some time. Reports are going to be coming in of injured number rising, perhaps even more deaths. At some point, we can hope the perpetrator will be caught and punished. I do so hope the media will continue to make light of some of the heroes that have yet to be seen.
But if the don't? Look for it. Even today, with the news coming in every hour, Google "Boston Marathon Heroes" and see what comes up. It's there. Look for the light.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Much Ado About Boston
The Boston Marathon.
Give me any American and they've no doubt heard of the Boston Marathon. "Marathon Monday" as it's been called, or simply "Boston" The running world knows what it is.
Until today. A Marathon Monday like no other. One to never be forgotten, one to be reviewed and remembered in many many different ways. Two explosions have rocked the finish line. It's still early, having only happened less than a couple of hours ago, but it's not just the finish line that's reeling. So many are touched by this, myself included.
The first race I ever did was a 5K last March. It meant the world to me, that I had finally been able to do a 5K. The day was special, the day meant something, amazing emotion and incredible pride.
Which is likely similar to what others feel on race day. Whether it's a first 5K or ones 12th marathon. It's simply a thrill to be there.
When I heard about the Boston Marathon finish line explosions, I immediately prayed that it was equipment failure, a busted speaker, a electronic device gone wrong. No such luck. Reports are still coming in, nothing has been determined yet, but it's obvious: this more than likely is not just faulty equipment. It's more than likely someone did this.
Running "Boston" takes amazing dedication, even to get there. The qualifying times for Boston are something of a mystery to people like me, how anyone can ever go that fast is simply mind boggling. But they do. People qualify for Boston. They work incredibly hard to get there, they live, breathe and bleed "Boston" in order to run this most famous race. And who can blame them? Seeing that starting line in Boston has got to be such a moment of pride, such an incredible emotional moment. What makes this such an incredible moment, dear readers, is that you and I both know there are individuals running Boston today that never thought they'd see the starting line of a race so huge. They see that start line and think " I did it". For so many, simply being in the race is an incredible feat.
For many others, today was a day of comebacks, getting a PR (personal record), first timers, retirees who are running their last, regardless, the first race in our country, the list is long of what this race might have meant to people. For somewhere of the 20,000 or so participants, there could have been an equal number of reasons, meanings and dedications of this race.
Which is why it fills me with incredible grief that explosions take the center ring. Not knowing the final details, or the logistics of it all, the underlying thing that keeps my heart heavy is the fact that for some, this won't be the race they remember for their own reasons, it will be the race with the explosions. Someone who was on their way to a PR won't be able to finish. Someone coming back from an injury won't be able to fully comeback, because of the chaos. Runners on the course, turned a corner and saw unspeakable horror. At a time when they should be bursting with pride and overwhelming joy.
Anyone who has run or anyone who has not run, knows how very difficult it is simply to run. To excel even more so. All these people wanted to do was run, to push themselves, to do their best, to beat themselves, to achieve....and someone or something has robbed them of that. It's with incredible sadness and heavy hearts that we watch these shattered dreams and crushed memories, never to be forgotten.
Give me any American and they've no doubt heard of the Boston Marathon. "Marathon Monday" as it's been called, or simply "Boston" The running world knows what it is.
Until today. A Marathon Monday like no other. One to never be forgotten, one to be reviewed and remembered in many many different ways. Two explosions have rocked the finish line. It's still early, having only happened less than a couple of hours ago, but it's not just the finish line that's reeling. So many are touched by this, myself included.
The first race I ever did was a 5K last March. It meant the world to me, that I had finally been able to do a 5K. The day was special, the day meant something, amazing emotion and incredible pride.
Which is likely similar to what others feel on race day. Whether it's a first 5K or ones 12th marathon. It's simply a thrill to be there.
When I heard about the Boston Marathon finish line explosions, I immediately prayed that it was equipment failure, a busted speaker, a electronic device gone wrong. No such luck. Reports are still coming in, nothing has been determined yet, but it's obvious: this more than likely is not just faulty equipment. It's more than likely someone did this.
Running "Boston" takes amazing dedication, even to get there. The qualifying times for Boston are something of a mystery to people like me, how anyone can ever go that fast is simply mind boggling. But they do. People qualify for Boston. They work incredibly hard to get there, they live, breathe and bleed "Boston" in order to run this most famous race. And who can blame them? Seeing that starting line in Boston has got to be such a moment of pride, such an incredible emotional moment. What makes this such an incredible moment, dear readers, is that you and I both know there are individuals running Boston today that never thought they'd see the starting line of a race so huge. They see that start line and think " I did it". For so many, simply being in the race is an incredible feat.
For many others, today was a day of comebacks, getting a PR (personal record), first timers, retirees who are running their last, regardless, the first race in our country, the list is long of what this race might have meant to people. For somewhere of the 20,000 or so participants, there could have been an equal number of reasons, meanings and dedications of this race.
Which is why it fills me with incredible grief that explosions take the center ring. Not knowing the final details, or the logistics of it all, the underlying thing that keeps my heart heavy is the fact that for some, this won't be the race they remember for their own reasons, it will be the race with the explosions. Someone who was on their way to a PR won't be able to finish. Someone coming back from an injury won't be able to fully comeback, because of the chaos. Runners on the course, turned a corner and saw unspeakable horror. At a time when they should be bursting with pride and overwhelming joy.
Anyone who has run or anyone who has not run, knows how very difficult it is simply to run. To excel even more so. All these people wanted to do was run, to push themselves, to do their best, to beat themselves, to achieve....and someone or something has robbed them of that. It's with incredible sadness and heavy hearts that we watch these shattered dreams and crushed memories, never to be forgotten.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Running For Our Lives
I was introduced this weekend to a running group that I've seen a lot around town. I had not recognized the group before, but it was obvious it was for a cause, simply by their name, Runnin' For Rhett. Those baby blue shirts were everywhere, on every trail I was on, all weekend long runs, there they were. The shirt logo had a picture of a boy on it, and I got the basics of his story when I met this boys mother, Beth over the weekend.
Rhett was a seven year old child born with Severe Cerebral Palsy. He was a loved and cherished child who passed away, leaving behind a devastated family. His mother, Beth started running shortly after his death, as a way to cope with the intense loss of her child.
Hearing this woman talk, I felt that quivering rock in the pit of my stomach, that aching need to release the emotion I was feeling with what I was hearing. It was so full of emotion for me that I barely could squeak out the words how amazing she was and what a great thing she was doing in memory of her son. It was all I could do not to break down in tears of my own.
Today I am twenty days shy of the 2 year anniversary of the death of my father. It was less than a year after my dad died of skin cancer that I started running. I can't say for sure if it was his death that urged me to run, I may never know. In any case, a few years before that, I watched my older brother go from a strong as an ox, perfectly capable guy with a smart ass mouth, to a bed ridden guy who towards the end could barely hold a coffee cup or remember our names due to his inoperable brain tumor. With my dad, I suppose the death was a dash more bearable, as he was 75. While not yet ready to say goodbye, we knew it would be tough to cram in more life into those 75 years as my dad really did have a good long full life.
My brother? Not so much. My brother was 44 when he died. Too soon was he gone, unable to take that trip to Alaska he always dreamed about, unable to buy that jeep he talked about, unable to go camping one last time. His death made me so very angry, with the solitary reason, he wasn't done living. Not by far. he may as well have had a to-do list to carry around with him because he wasn't done living.
A couple of years after that, it was my 28 year old nephew. Died suddenly, all of a sudden gone. We learned that his young body was riddled with cancer, yet no one knew. From what I understand, his goal was to beat cancer, not worry anyone and then surprise the world with ' I beat cancer'. But he never got the chance.
I guess in a sense, part of the divine given reason I watched the decline and death of my loved ones is a simple reminder of one thing: I'm not done. While I often struggle with it, I do know this. Right now, I still can. I can run, I can walk, I can breathe deep, I can show up to a workout or a race and do what I have to do. There's so many out there who can't.
Part of the Runnin' For Rhett philosophy is 'do it while you can' {or something to that effect}. Perhaps why I was touched so deeply on the emotional level, is because it immediately made me think of my lost family members. There's still so much living to do and how many times do we not do it? I know I'm guilty of this.
Being busy, feeling lazy, tired, overwhelmed, stress, drama occurring....we are always going to have a reason not to live life to the fullest. We can get thrown off track with a simple phone call, late bill, broken dishwasher, whatever. We cease living a lot of the times when things get tough. Understandable and easy to do. We change our routines, shift around priorities and things get thrown in the mix, often times without our even realizing what were giving up. But so much of it is so very important to remember not to give up on the things that matter the most.
Running, for me has been a part of that. I'll admit when things get busy, crazy, and overwhelming, sadly running is often the first to be crossed off the list. I wish I knew better how to prioritize, organize and put it all together better to get the most out of life. Still working on that.
It's refreshing though, that nearly everyone has a reason to run. Rhett, cancer, therapy, buns of pudding, emotions, last nights wine, turning 60, mental clarity, morale, modeling, running away from pain of death, divorce or any other loss. Everyone has a reason to run. It's our lives, it's our reasons for living, for incorporating the surge of life we get from running into our daily existence. It's literall running for our lives.
Rhett was a seven year old child born with Severe Cerebral Palsy. He was a loved and cherished child who passed away, leaving behind a devastated family. His mother, Beth started running shortly after his death, as a way to cope with the intense loss of her child.
Hearing this woman talk, I felt that quivering rock in the pit of my stomach, that aching need to release the emotion I was feeling with what I was hearing. It was so full of emotion for me that I barely could squeak out the words how amazing she was and what a great thing she was doing in memory of her son. It was all I could do not to break down in tears of my own.
Today I am twenty days shy of the 2 year anniversary of the death of my father. It was less than a year after my dad died of skin cancer that I started running. I can't say for sure if it was his death that urged me to run, I may never know. In any case, a few years before that, I watched my older brother go from a strong as an ox, perfectly capable guy with a smart ass mouth, to a bed ridden guy who towards the end could barely hold a coffee cup or remember our names due to his inoperable brain tumor. With my dad, I suppose the death was a dash more bearable, as he was 75. While not yet ready to say goodbye, we knew it would be tough to cram in more life into those 75 years as my dad really did have a good long full life.
My brother? Not so much. My brother was 44 when he died. Too soon was he gone, unable to take that trip to Alaska he always dreamed about, unable to buy that jeep he talked about, unable to go camping one last time. His death made me so very angry, with the solitary reason, he wasn't done living. Not by far. he may as well have had a to-do list to carry around with him because he wasn't done living.
A couple of years after that, it was my 28 year old nephew. Died suddenly, all of a sudden gone. We learned that his young body was riddled with cancer, yet no one knew. From what I understand, his goal was to beat cancer, not worry anyone and then surprise the world with ' I beat cancer'. But he never got the chance.
I guess in a sense, part of the divine given reason I watched the decline and death of my loved ones is a simple reminder of one thing: I'm not done. While I often struggle with it, I do know this. Right now, I still can. I can run, I can walk, I can breathe deep, I can show up to a workout or a race and do what I have to do. There's so many out there who can't.
Part of the Runnin' For Rhett philosophy is 'do it while you can' {or something to that effect}. Perhaps why I was touched so deeply on the emotional level, is because it immediately made me think of my lost family members. There's still so much living to do and how many times do we not do it? I know I'm guilty of this.
Being busy, feeling lazy, tired, overwhelmed, stress, drama occurring....we are always going to have a reason not to live life to the fullest. We can get thrown off track with a simple phone call, late bill, broken dishwasher, whatever. We cease living a lot of the times when things get tough. Understandable and easy to do. We change our routines, shift around priorities and things get thrown in the mix, often times without our even realizing what were giving up. But so much of it is so very important to remember not to give up on the things that matter the most.
Running, for me has been a part of that. I'll admit when things get busy, crazy, and overwhelming, sadly running is often the first to be crossed off the list. I wish I knew better how to prioritize, organize and put it all together better to get the most out of life. Still working on that.
It's refreshing though, that nearly everyone has a reason to run. Rhett, cancer, therapy, buns of pudding, emotions, last nights wine, turning 60, mental clarity, morale, modeling, running away from pain of death, divorce or any other loss. Everyone has a reason to run. It's our lives, it's our reasons for living, for incorporating the surge of life we get from running into our daily existence. It's literall running for our lives.
Self Mental Mutilation
Might wanna turn your head, this could get ugly.
I've been on a streak lately of beating the hell out of myself and it appears to be I'm not done yet. A week ago, I did an 'anniversary' race of sorts, running a race I'd done before, in fact it was my first 5K ever. A year later, I was about fifteen seconds slower.
How is that possible? I've been doing this running thing for a year and I'm slower?!
Yesterday I did a Half Marathon Relay and well, frankly my time is absolutely humiliating. The slowest I've ever been. Now if it were just me, and my own humiliation, that's one thing. But because there's a relay partner involved, I almost feel like I shouldn't even show my face again, rip the stickers off my car and give it up all together. I can almost sense people logging on to the website to check my time and shaking their heads in pity, disgust or disbelief. I'm disappointed in myself and I almost feel like I've disappointed the coaches and friends I've worked with who have helped me a long the way.
I'm at a point where I'm truly disgusted with my running, my times, my lack of speed, my forced lack of training due to life getting in the way and all of it. I'm not getting any better, I'm slowing down. I'm not losing weight like crazy like I think I should, sure, I've got some impressive muscles going on, but I'm really starting to wonder what's the point of it all when I'm not really moving forward with any of it. Maybe I'm not supposed to?
I keep telling myself that the time doesn't matter. I tell myself that I was never in this for the time, I was only in it to do it, to prove that I could, to accomplish something, to help exercising, weight loss, to keep up with overall health.
But I can't stick to that for some reason. Why?
Why DOES the time matter? Why do I even get timed? Why do I even look at the numbers? Maybe because everyone else does. Maybe because I have read and keep reading books that discuss a PR, speed plays, timing timing timing. I know I do have a little competitive streak in me, maybe more than I even realize. People have always told me, in fact a cardinal rule of running at the level I'm at don't compete with others. Yes, I know the rule well. I preach it as a mentor of running school, yet for some reason others is not even my problem. I can't even compete well with myself. That just plain sucks. And it's humiliating.
So I need to figure this out- quickly- before I do something stupid like quit. Why does it always seem like I'm trying to figure this running thing out? Do others have this much mental mayhem going on?
Do I want to keep running? Yes.
For now, that's about all I know. I don't know if I want to commit to improving my speed. Right now it seems like a lot of work for what, self gratification? Is it not enough anymore to just get out there and do it? It used to be. It used to be that just signing up for a race was a big step for me. Now I can do it with the flash of a credit card and 12 minutes online. It's so automatic and quick these days that I've actually forgotten I've registered for a race until I get the e-mail reminding me.
I figure I have a few options here:
No more racing? (except for already registered for) until I decide what to do.
Keep racing and work on the mental side of just enjoying it?
Work on speed?
Work on the mental side of not competing with myself or any others?
Work on more cross-training and hope that helps with speed?
Scrap the whole idea and just go back to working out and focusing on weight loss?
I have to know...do other runners go through this as well?
I've been on a streak lately of beating the hell out of myself and it appears to be I'm not done yet. A week ago, I did an 'anniversary' race of sorts, running a race I'd done before, in fact it was my first 5K ever. A year later, I was about fifteen seconds slower.
How is that possible? I've been doing this running thing for a year and I'm slower?!
Yesterday I did a Half Marathon Relay and well, frankly my time is absolutely humiliating. The slowest I've ever been. Now if it were just me, and my own humiliation, that's one thing. But because there's a relay partner involved, I almost feel like I shouldn't even show my face again, rip the stickers off my car and give it up all together. I can almost sense people logging on to the website to check my time and shaking their heads in pity, disgust or disbelief. I'm disappointed in myself and I almost feel like I've disappointed the coaches and friends I've worked with who have helped me a long the way.
I'm at a point where I'm truly disgusted with my running, my times, my lack of speed, my forced lack of training due to life getting in the way and all of it. I'm not getting any better, I'm slowing down. I'm not losing weight like crazy like I think I should, sure, I've got some impressive muscles going on, but I'm really starting to wonder what's the point of it all when I'm not really moving forward with any of it. Maybe I'm not supposed to?
I keep telling myself that the time doesn't matter. I tell myself that I was never in this for the time, I was only in it to do it, to prove that I could, to accomplish something, to help exercising, weight loss, to keep up with overall health.
But I can't stick to that for some reason. Why?
Why DOES the time matter? Why do I even get timed? Why do I even look at the numbers? Maybe because everyone else does. Maybe because I have read and keep reading books that discuss a PR, speed plays, timing timing timing. I know I do have a little competitive streak in me, maybe more than I even realize. People have always told me, in fact a cardinal rule of running at the level I'm at don't compete with others. Yes, I know the rule well. I preach it as a mentor of running school, yet for some reason others is not even my problem. I can't even compete well with myself. That just plain sucks. And it's humiliating.
So I need to figure this out- quickly- before I do something stupid like quit. Why does it always seem like I'm trying to figure this running thing out? Do others have this much mental mayhem going on?
Do I want to keep running? Yes.
For now, that's about all I know. I don't know if I want to commit to improving my speed. Right now it seems like a lot of work for what, self gratification? Is it not enough anymore to just get out there and do it? It used to be. It used to be that just signing up for a race was a big step for me. Now I can do it with the flash of a credit card and 12 minutes online. It's so automatic and quick these days that I've actually forgotten I've registered for a race until I get the e-mail reminding me.
I figure I have a few options here:
No more racing? (except for already registered for) until I decide what to do.
Keep racing and work on the mental side of just enjoying it?
Work on speed?
Work on the mental side of not competing with myself or any others?
Work on more cross-training and hope that helps with speed?
Scrap the whole idea and just go back to working out and focusing on weight loss?
I have to know...do other runners go through this as well?
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Is it REALLY necessary?
An individual I know approached me the other day and asked me what the sticker on my car meant.
" I saw a 26.2 sticker kinda like it, but yours is 13.1. What does it mean?" So I explained it to him that was the length of my last race.
" Oh. Is that really necessary? I don't really need to know that"
um. ooohhkayy.
How exactly does one respond to that? He mumbled something about bragging and it was unclear if he was disgusted or what.
What this guy fails to realize is that perhaps the sticker on my car is about no one but myself. Oh, interesting concept.
Everyday, at least a couple of times a day, I see it. When I'm having a 'fat/lazy/idonwanna' day, I see it and I remember. When I'm driving and want to make a u-turn and go away from the gym for a nap, I see it in the rear view mirror and I remember. It motivates me.
The days I leave my job feeling like a sucker, a failure and/or a complete dope, it's there, shining and smiling at me, as if to say "it's okay if you were a screw up today...you still did 13.1" It lifts my spirits.
So yes...it is really necessary. For me and me alone.
For all my self doubts, my worries of my own capabilities, my down talk, questioning my own abilities...all the crap I give myself on pretty much a daily basis, it's a necessary reminder that I can and have conquered the gargantuan mountains I place before me. Including the Half.
It's not, and I repeat...it's NOT there to say " nyah nyah nyah, lookee what I can do that you can't" Because for all I know? That dude in his car next to me just did an ultra100 run and chooses not to put it on his car.
And another thing. So what if it shows off a little pride. I am proud. Very proud.
" I saw a 26.2 sticker kinda like it, but yours is 13.1. What does it mean?" So I explained it to him that was the length of my last race.
" Oh. Is that really necessary? I don't really need to know that"
um. ooohhkayy.
How exactly does one respond to that? He mumbled something about bragging and it was unclear if he was disgusted or what.
What this guy fails to realize is that perhaps the sticker on my car is about no one but myself. Oh, interesting concept.
Everyday, at least a couple of times a day, I see it. When I'm having a 'fat/lazy/idonwanna' day, I see it and I remember. When I'm driving and want to make a u-turn and go away from the gym for a nap, I see it in the rear view mirror and I remember. It motivates me.
The days I leave my job feeling like a sucker, a failure and/or a complete dope, it's there, shining and smiling at me, as if to say "it's okay if you were a screw up today...you still did 13.1" It lifts my spirits.
So yes...it is really necessary. For me and me alone.
For all my self doubts, my worries of my own capabilities, my down talk, questioning my own abilities...all the crap I give myself on pretty much a daily basis, it's a necessary reminder that I can and have conquered the gargantuan mountains I place before me. Including the Half.
It's not, and I repeat...it's NOT there to say " nyah nyah nyah, lookee what I can do that you can't" Because for all I know? That dude in his car next to me just did an ultra100 run and chooses not to put it on his car.
And another thing. So what if it shows off a little pride. I am proud. Very proud.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Getting to Know Pre
I was held up in yet another emergency room on Sunday ( not me, but another family member with kidney stones) and luckily I had some sense about me before rushing out the door enough to grab some magazines to read. I think it was the latest Runners World that I had in my bag, I read all about Pre. Steve Prefontaine, the late great runner. Pre passed away in a tragic auto accident shortly after I was born, so we barely even share the same lifetime. He was a great athlete, he loved the sport and he's an athlete I seemingly have absoluteley nothing in common with.
Yet I'm intrigued. I want to know more Pre. I do not have a full understanding why, or how this one runner is on my mind. Why not Paula Radcliffe? Why not Shalene Fitzgerald? I share a gender and a generation with them, but for some reason I'm not drawn to them as much as I am Pre right now. It's a bit baffling. I'm still 'new' enough to this sport that I cannot even name half a dozen great runners.
But my mind keeps coming on to Pre. Why?
Is it because he's had so much written about him? Had a movie made about him? ( actually make that two movies about him) I read in the article that every year there is a Prefontaine Classic, and a Prefontaine Memorial Run. I'm starting to believe this is one instance that because it's there, because there are books and movies and runs named after him, is why I'm intrigued about what makes him so special.
But that being said, there's an element of life there too. Steve Prefontaine died a tragic death way too soon. He was an incredible athlete like so many others, and while he perhaps did not run the fastest, win the most races, or have the most gold, carrying him on means something special. His mother and sister help carry on his name, his legend. They will never forget. Perhaps their wish, is that as much as they loved him as a son and a brother, they want no one else to forget as well. Running was his passion as is so many others'. Matching others passion for the sport with their own passion of their lost one, seems a perfect fit.
But there's more to it, I'm sure. This Pre popularity and undying dedication to him is not started or carried on by his family solely. People show up and run the Prefontaine Classic and Memorial Run. His mother and sister did not write the books, nor direct/produce the movies.
So where does it all come from? How many other amazing great athletes were taken too soon before finishing their sport? Why Pre?
I'm intrigued enough to start reading the books or start watching the movies at some point. What is so special about this one runner? Other than being a helluva guy and a great athlete, there are millions of those out there. While I'm hoping for some answers to my own curiosity, I'm also hoping for some motivation, inspiration something I'm always needing. So....lets see what Pre can give me.
Yet I'm intrigued. I want to know more Pre. I do not have a full understanding why, or how this one runner is on my mind. Why not Paula Radcliffe? Why not Shalene Fitzgerald? I share a gender and a generation with them, but for some reason I'm not drawn to them as much as I am Pre right now. It's a bit baffling. I'm still 'new' enough to this sport that I cannot even name half a dozen great runners.
But my mind keeps coming on to Pre. Why?
Is it because he's had so much written about him? Had a movie made about him? ( actually make that two movies about him) I read in the article that every year there is a Prefontaine Classic, and a Prefontaine Memorial Run. I'm starting to believe this is one instance that because it's there, because there are books and movies and runs named after him, is why I'm intrigued about what makes him so special.
But that being said, there's an element of life there too. Steve Prefontaine died a tragic death way too soon. He was an incredible athlete like so many others, and while he perhaps did not run the fastest, win the most races, or have the most gold, carrying him on means something special. His mother and sister help carry on his name, his legend. They will never forget. Perhaps their wish, is that as much as they loved him as a son and a brother, they want no one else to forget as well. Running was his passion as is so many others'. Matching others passion for the sport with their own passion of their lost one, seems a perfect fit.
But there's more to it, I'm sure. This Pre popularity and undying dedication to him is not started or carried on by his family solely. People show up and run the Prefontaine Classic and Memorial Run. His mother and sister did not write the books, nor direct/produce the movies.
So where does it all come from? How many other amazing great athletes were taken too soon before finishing their sport? Why Pre?
I'm intrigued enough to start reading the books or start watching the movies at some point. What is so special about this one runner? Other than being a helluva guy and a great athlete, there are millions of those out there. While I'm hoping for some answers to my own curiosity, I'm also hoping for some motivation, inspiration something I'm always needing. So....lets see what Pre can give me.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
The Happiest Limit
I decided one of the greatest things about doing the Half Marathon is that I learned my current limit.
For this race, despite the weird mental stuff I had going on, it was about mile ten that I realized ' OK, I'm about done' and I really was. The last three miles were really a push and a half.
Today is day three post race and I'm pretty sure my mental state is coming back to normal, whatever the hell that is. Days leading up to the race were horrible. And I do mean horrible. The stress of the upcoming daunting task I had gotten myself into was more stress than my wedding, law school or going to confession. I learned my limits though, and I believe this is it! I know what I can handle and right now, this is the top of my threshold of mental, emotional and physical limitations. So very cool.
Why is that cool? Because so few people, I've learned, actually push themselves to the brink of their limits. They have absolutely no idea what they are capable of. I am right along with them, except for this one particular pinpoint in my world. No clue as to how far we can all be pushed before we break. None. And right at this very moment, yep, I know how far I can be pushed before I absolutely crumble. And crumble I almost did. But I didn't.
I cant decide if I would do another half again. Quite likely yes, but I'm not counting on that. I believe my limit for the moment is ten miles. It was at the ten mile mark I knew I was done. Would I want the hard task of another half at some point? Possibly. I'm not really looking for one right now. I think my ten miles is a good thing to keep it at right now.
So the first question everyone is asking " Are you doing a full marathon next?"
While it's a perfectly understandable and expected question, I'd so like to respond something like "yes, as soon as I birth 12 babies fathered by the pope" Just to be a smartass. No, not going to happen. For now anyway. I'll never say never though. God knows when I turn 50, I might have something else to prove I might be old and cranky as a bat, but damnit, I can RUN!
Yeah that's it.
But the exciting part is knowing exactly what my limit is right now. I don't ever think that I've felt that before, nor have I actually ever been brave/daring/stupid enough to push it. I no longer feel that need to strive for more right now. I no longer feel the need to push it. How in the world someone like me ever got that 'need to push' is beyond me. As I've said in the past, I do secretly fear I'm an internally lazy person.
I've already registered for a 10 miler coming up in a little over a month and I can't wait.
For this race, despite the weird mental stuff I had going on, it was about mile ten that I realized ' OK, I'm about done' and I really was. The last three miles were really a push and a half.
Today is day three post race and I'm pretty sure my mental state is coming back to normal, whatever the hell that is. Days leading up to the race were horrible. And I do mean horrible. The stress of the upcoming daunting task I had gotten myself into was more stress than my wedding, law school or going to confession. I learned my limits though, and I believe this is it! I know what I can handle and right now, this is the top of my threshold of mental, emotional and physical limitations. So very cool.
Why is that cool? Because so few people, I've learned, actually push themselves to the brink of their limits. They have absolutely no idea what they are capable of. I am right along with them, except for this one particular pinpoint in my world. No clue as to how far we can all be pushed before we break. None. And right at this very moment, yep, I know how far I can be pushed before I absolutely crumble. And crumble I almost did. But I didn't.
I cant decide if I would do another half again. Quite likely yes, but I'm not counting on that. I believe my limit for the moment is ten miles. It was at the ten mile mark I knew I was done. Would I want the hard task of another half at some point? Possibly. I'm not really looking for one right now. I think my ten miles is a good thing to keep it at right now.
So the first question everyone is asking " Are you doing a full marathon next?"
While it's a perfectly understandable and expected question, I'd so like to respond something like "yes, as soon as I birth 12 babies fathered by the pope" Just to be a smartass. No, not going to happen. For now anyway. I'll never say never though. God knows when I turn 50, I might have something else to prove I might be old and cranky as a bat, but damnit, I can RUN!
Yeah that's it.
But the exciting part is knowing exactly what my limit is right now. I don't ever think that I've felt that before, nor have I actually ever been brave/daring/stupid enough to push it. I no longer feel that need to strive for more right now. I no longer feel the need to push it. How in the world someone like me ever got that 'need to push' is beyond me. As I've said in the past, I do secretly fear I'm an internally lazy person.
I've already registered for a 10 miler coming up in a little over a month and I can't wait.
The After Party
Immediately following the Half Marathon, it was time to eat and eat huge. I guesstimated that I had burned about 2500-2600 calories during the course of the race ( yet my HRM crapped about about half way through) so I was ready to EAT.
We chose pizza, because well, it sounded good. And when I say 'we' I mean me. Others who did not do 13.1 didn't get to choose. nu uh.
So we hit a pizza buffet, I ate until I was comfortably full and that was that. My dear sweet man decided this was the perfect time to go buy out tile samples.
Are you freaking kidding me?
Nope, he wasn't at all. So in we went to Lowe's, me, still in my sweat caked clothes, my salty legs, horrible hat hair, race bib, and medal wearing to look at tile. I lasted about fifteen minutes of cruising the aisles before I started to drop, again. My hamstring was hurting and I knew I needed to drop really quickly. My husband was dazed by tiles, grout and other shit that seemed so dumb at the time. I finally had to drop after about 20 minutes. I saw a flat bed cart int he aile and ended up taking a seat on it. ohhh, much better. Stretching out my legs and back and relaxing...until the owner of the cart came by. He looked at me like I was insane, for obvious reasons. I apologized and got up, taking way longer than I wanted to. Oh well.
As soon as we got home, my stomach said to me 'pizza after a long hard tough race? Yeah I don't think so' and started evacuating into the nearest toilet. That was cool.
The next day, after still not enough sleep, we hit breakfast and Lowes again to actually buy the tile.
More of the same, wandering the aisles while my husband did math in his head, figured out grout and mortar and blah blah blah....Then it was on to Home Depot. Then back to Lowes. I think I lasted about two hours before dropping again and this time there was no strangers cart to sit on. So I bitched instead. My dear husband got the hint and we went home.
The irony of it is, as hard as all that was? Tuesday came along and I don't feel a thing in terms of pain, or stiffness or tight muscles, nothing! I feel great! ( I mean other than the runners rash covered in baby butt cream that still feels like hell) So again, the rule of 'keep moving when you are sore and hurting' really does ring true, as much as I hate it.
We chose pizza, because well, it sounded good. And when I say 'we' I mean me. Others who did not do 13.1 didn't get to choose. nu uh.
So we hit a pizza buffet, I ate until I was comfortably full and that was that. My dear sweet man decided this was the perfect time to go buy out tile samples.
Are you freaking kidding me?
Nope, he wasn't at all. So in we went to Lowe's, me, still in my sweat caked clothes, my salty legs, horrible hat hair, race bib, and medal wearing to look at tile. I lasted about fifteen minutes of cruising the aisles before I started to drop, again. My hamstring was hurting and I knew I needed to drop really quickly. My husband was dazed by tiles, grout and other shit that seemed so dumb at the time. I finally had to drop after about 20 minutes. I saw a flat bed cart int he aile and ended up taking a seat on it. ohhh, much better. Stretching out my legs and back and relaxing...until the owner of the cart came by. He looked at me like I was insane, for obvious reasons. I apologized and got up, taking way longer than I wanted to. Oh well.
As soon as we got home, my stomach said to me 'pizza after a long hard tough race? Yeah I don't think so' and started evacuating into the nearest toilet. That was cool.
The next day, after still not enough sleep, we hit breakfast and Lowes again to actually buy the tile.
More of the same, wandering the aisles while my husband did math in his head, figured out grout and mortar and blah blah blah....Then it was on to Home Depot. Then back to Lowes. I think I lasted about two hours before dropping again and this time there was no strangers cart to sit on. So I bitched instead. My dear husband got the hint and we went home.
The irony of it is, as hard as all that was? Tuesday came along and I don't feel a thing in terms of pain, or stiffness or tight muscles, nothing! I feel great! ( I mean other than the runners rash covered in baby butt cream that still feels like hell) So again, the rule of 'keep moving when you are sore and hurting' really does ring true, as much as I hate it.
Book Review: The Runners Rule Book
The Runners Rule Book was a great combination of humor, reality and sound advice. It covered everything from getting to know Step Prefontaine to using socks as toilet paper instead of leaves. No joke!
The etiquette of running seems to be a vanishing sport, the 'rules' of which side to run on, how to pass, how to cooperate with traffic and whatnot seem known to some, but not to everyone. It's this kind of 'rule' book that is very much needed, with some actual 'rules' or at least guidelines to go by. In my experience, people seem to have different ideas of the rules, and while some make sense, others just don't care.
It's a fun book that likely any runner will enjoy, especially knowing that one can relate to many situations and experiences in the book. While maybe not an official 'rules' book, it's filled with both practical and fun guidelines to follow to make the most of the running experience.
http://www.amazon.com/The-Runners-Rule-Book-Everything/dp/1605295809/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1363815862&sr=8-1&keywords=rules+for+runners
Cluster Fudge
I'm now 4 days pre race and I'm hating every moment of it. I went for my final training run last night, a simple 30 minute-ish that should have been a walk in the park. It wasn't. It was horrible from the start. And the irony is, I almost knew I shouldn't have even bothered.
I've said before I'm a slow starter, it can take me up to 3 miles just to warm up. The shorter the run, the more it seems like 'why bother'? I don't warm up fast, I never have. Last night instantly I knew I was in trouble. My caves froze up within moments. I pushed on as I figured in a short time I'd be done. Not happening. At all. I cut it out early and headed home. Knowing how horrible that short mile and a half had been, I started to doubt and wonder. What the hell am I doing?
I had picked up my race shirt and bib, so I had a new motivation and inspiration staring me in the face and yet, I started to feel a sense of true ugly I was not familiar with. As I always do, I snapped a picture of my race shirt and bib to sent it to family and friends and one response I got was "don't be nervous, remember that 8 billion Chinese could give a rat's ass" which I took that to mean
"eh, who cares". Alrighty then. Message clear. No one cares. Gotcha. Ouch.
This morning I woke up just tired, my inspiration and motivation has been shot through the heart. The message in my head from the night before still stinging in my mind only to be met with a friend asking if I could do her a favor on Sunday morning. Appearing to have no idea I was going to be a little busy, despite her always encouraging me and asking about my training.
I got a text message reminding me to continue my training up until race day. I responded I was doing no more runs until Sunday. " I wouldn't do that if I were you" was the reaction.
Well, lucky for you , you aren't me right now.
While this in itself has the potential to put me in a very very bad mood and make me feel less than competent, untrained and basically going to make me look like a joke out there... I need to remember the cardinal rule of running: Don't compare yourself to others
So much easier said than done right now.
So it appears I'm in a horrible state of mind right now and while I think/hope/pray to any Almighty that's listening that it's temporary funk of the mind, that I will get out of it in no time, right now I'm terrified, my confidence is nowhere to be found and my mind is seriously wandering if I can/want to do this at all. It's a horrible place to be.
I've said before I'm a slow starter, it can take me up to 3 miles just to warm up. The shorter the run, the more it seems like 'why bother'? I don't warm up fast, I never have. Last night instantly I knew I was in trouble. My caves froze up within moments. I pushed on as I figured in a short time I'd be done. Not happening. At all. I cut it out early and headed home. Knowing how horrible that short mile and a half had been, I started to doubt and wonder. What the hell am I doing?
I had picked up my race shirt and bib, so I had a new motivation and inspiration staring me in the face and yet, I started to feel a sense of true ugly I was not familiar with. As I always do, I snapped a picture of my race shirt and bib to sent it to family and friends and one response I got was "don't be nervous, remember that 8 billion Chinese could give a rat's ass" which I took that to mean
"eh, who cares". Alrighty then. Message clear. No one cares. Gotcha. Ouch.
This morning I woke up just tired, my inspiration and motivation has been shot through the heart. The message in my head from the night before still stinging in my mind only to be met with a friend asking if I could do her a favor on Sunday morning. Appearing to have no idea I was going to be a little busy, despite her always encouraging me and asking about my training.
I got a text message reminding me to continue my training up until race day. I responded I was doing no more runs until Sunday. " I wouldn't do that if I were you" was the reaction.
Well, lucky for you , you aren't me right now.
While this in itself has the potential to put me in a very very bad mood and make me feel less than competent, untrained and basically going to make me look like a joke out there... I need to remember the cardinal rule of running: Don't compare yourself to others
So much easier said than done right now.
So it appears I'm in a horrible state of mind right now and while I think/hope/pray to any Almighty that's listening that it's temporary funk of the mind, that I will get out of it in no time, right now I'm terrified, my confidence is nowhere to be found and my mind is seriously wandering if I can/want to do this at all. It's a horrible place to be.
The Shamrock'n Half Marathon
Holy Mother of God, I DID IT!!!! thirteenpointone.
The race...ah yes, the race. From the beginning of Race Day Adrenaline, it was strange. There was a strange calm, like I was not nervous, I was not scared, I was not dreading, I was not worried. Very very bizarre. But I was stressed. Beyond belief. I just did not feel it?
Looking back on the pre-race days, I see a lot more clearly now. A week ago, I was coming nearer and nearer to this enormous event and I was scared. The problem was, I am almost under the belief that my fear was bigger than me. It consumed me in a way that I did not know how to handle, so what did I do? I turned back to my old standby of poor eating, nutrition and bad habits all around. It sucked. I ate crap because I was stressed and then I would stress out because I was eating crap. It was a vicious circle I thought I had conquered. I was wrong.
Going into the race, so much of it was all a blur. its' still a blur, actually. For a day or two afterwards I'd snap out of a daydream, think about the race and wondered if it was real. I had dreamed of it so many times, I wondered if it was all just another dream. The strangeness of it all was overpowering, yet in a strange sense calming as well. I headed to the VIP area of my training group and I saw people there, so many were extremely happy, excited, they definitely had the faces of Race Day Adrenaline. Lord knows what my face said.
During the race, the most incredible thing I noticed was that I did not have that-every-race-thinking of " This is it, my last race, I'm done." I've thought that in every single hard race I've done. That thought was not anywhere near my mind. Nor was the "Why am I doing this?" thoughts. I can't remember exactly what I thought the whole time, but it was like there was no negativity in my mind at all. Very strange.
The only real issues I had was running out of electrolytes. This downright sucked. After about mile 10, I knew I was starting to drop, and drop hard. My calves would take turns on cramping out in a way that would make me fall flat on my face. There was no pain in these cramps, just absolutely debilitating any movement. I'll add here that this kind of pissed me off. You mean to tell me that with all the 560 problems I could have encountered, electrolytes is the one problem? Seriously?! So I would run a bit, then have to stop and walk. This went on at least the last mile and a half. At one point I was so mad that I wanted to keep running, despite the cramping and nope. I knew instantly that I'd be in a serious injury if I tried. Damnit! But I survived.
The highlight of the race, was seeing no only my fellow training program runners out there cheering me on with the man and kiddo, but also seeing my brother, sister and brother in law. I reached them and was so surprised I started breathing weird. I knew I wanted to cry, but they had cameras in hand! No crying pictures for me! No! So I held it in, but then the need to puke was huge. I knew one way or another something was going to come out. I only prayed it was the upper end.
I had to keep running past them all, despite wanting to stop and hug them all for some much needed comfort, but I also knew if I did, I'd stop right then and there. So I went on. I got safely past them and then spend likely the next mile or so crying my eyes out* at how much it all meant to me.
Maybe that's where my electrolytes went.
The finish was just that...a finish. My time was horrible, I knew that, but at that point, when I damn near fell over the finish line because of seizing calves, I didn't care. After I crossed the finish line of the stadium, the first thing I did was walk up stairs. Are you kidding me? omg. That was just cruel as hell. What was even more cruel was reaching the top of these stairs to have a representative from a local Massage Clinic hand me a card asking me to be a guest for a well deserved massage. In my oxygen and water depleted state, I heard " come for a free massage" I was stoked.
But instead, it was an offer for a $49 massage by appointment. Ok, screw you Massage place, gosh that felt mean to do to someone who was ready to die from fatigue and sore.
It's now day three post race and it still kind of doesn't seem real. What keeps it very real and alive for me is the lovely 'runners rash' [aka chafing] my bra left. Of course. For two days, everytime I moved a quarter of an inch I'd wince and cry out in pain. The worst one yet, leaving me to call my mommy for advice before I feared I had to seek medical attention. So here I sit, with baby butt cream on my chest and wondering if it was all worth it.
Yes, of course it was.
* I denied this to nearly everyone, however.Call me a liar, but I proudly announced that I did not cry, puke or sh!t my pants...but I had forgotten this little emotional overflowing.
The race...ah yes, the race. From the beginning of Race Day Adrenaline, it was strange. There was a strange calm, like I was not nervous, I was not scared, I was not dreading, I was not worried. Very very bizarre. But I was stressed. Beyond belief. I just did not feel it?
Looking back on the pre-race days, I see a lot more clearly now. A week ago, I was coming nearer and nearer to this enormous event and I was scared. The problem was, I am almost under the belief that my fear was bigger than me. It consumed me in a way that I did not know how to handle, so what did I do? I turned back to my old standby of poor eating, nutrition and bad habits all around. It sucked. I ate crap because I was stressed and then I would stress out because I was eating crap. It was a vicious circle I thought I had conquered. I was wrong.
Going into the race, so much of it was all a blur. its' still a blur, actually. For a day or two afterwards I'd snap out of a daydream, think about the race and wondered if it was real. I had dreamed of it so many times, I wondered if it was all just another dream. The strangeness of it all was overpowering, yet in a strange sense calming as well. I headed to the VIP area of my training group and I saw people there, so many were extremely happy, excited, they definitely had the faces of Race Day Adrenaline. Lord knows what my face said.
During the race, the most incredible thing I noticed was that I did not have that-every-race-thinking of " This is it, my last race, I'm done." I've thought that in every single hard race I've done. That thought was not anywhere near my mind. Nor was the "Why am I doing this?" thoughts. I can't remember exactly what I thought the whole time, but it was like there was no negativity in my mind at all. Very strange.
The only real issues I had was running out of electrolytes. This downright sucked. After about mile 10, I knew I was starting to drop, and drop hard. My calves would take turns on cramping out in a way that would make me fall flat on my face. There was no pain in these cramps, just absolutely debilitating any movement. I'll add here that this kind of pissed me off. You mean to tell me that with all the 560 problems I could have encountered, electrolytes is the one problem? Seriously?! So I would run a bit, then have to stop and walk. This went on at least the last mile and a half. At one point I was so mad that I wanted to keep running, despite the cramping and nope. I knew instantly that I'd be in a serious injury if I tried. Damnit! But I survived.
The highlight of the race, was seeing no only my fellow training program runners out there cheering me on with the man and kiddo, but also seeing my brother, sister and brother in law. I reached them and was so surprised I started breathing weird. I knew I wanted to cry, but they had cameras in hand! No crying pictures for me! No! So I held it in, but then the need to puke was huge. I knew one way or another something was going to come out. I only prayed it was the upper end.
I had to keep running past them all, despite wanting to stop and hug them all for some much needed comfort, but I also knew if I did, I'd stop right then and there. So I went on. I got safely past them and then spend likely the next mile or so crying my eyes out* at how much it all meant to me.
Maybe that's where my electrolytes went.
The finish was just that...a finish. My time was horrible, I knew that, but at that point, when I damn near fell over the finish line because of seizing calves, I didn't care. After I crossed the finish line of the stadium, the first thing I did was walk up stairs. Are you kidding me? omg. That was just cruel as hell. What was even more cruel was reaching the top of these stairs to have a representative from a local Massage Clinic hand me a card asking me to be a guest for a well deserved massage. In my oxygen and water depleted state, I heard " come for a free massage" I was stoked.
But instead, it was an offer for a $49 massage by appointment. Ok, screw you Massage place, gosh that felt mean to do to someone who was ready to die from fatigue and sore.
It's now day three post race and it still kind of doesn't seem real. What keeps it very real and alive for me is the lovely 'runners rash' [aka chafing] my bra left. Of course. For two days, everytime I moved a quarter of an inch I'd wince and cry out in pain. The worst one yet, leaving me to call my mommy for advice before I feared I had to seek medical attention. So here I sit, with baby butt cream on my chest and wondering if it was all worth it.
Yes, of course it was.
* I denied this to nearly everyone, however.Call me a liar, but I proudly announced that I did not cry, puke or sh!t my pants...but I had forgotten this little emotional overflowing.
Monday, March 11, 2013
The Missing Element...
I'm now 6 days and counting to the biggest race I've ever done. A Half Marathon. Not a relay, not just a 5K, not a 10Kbut the whole enchilada. 13.1 miles in front of me, just me to run, walk, skip, crawl and perhaps even puke on.
I've gone as much as 11.5 miles, the amount my training took me. It was tough. Veeerrry tough. But I did it. I've been thinking about this for a long time now, been preparing for it and I'm 6 days pre-race and I don't have a single jitter, not a speck of adrenaline. um. Yeah.
I can't remember exactly, but before my first race, a 5k, I remember having nerves and adrenaline quite some time ahead of the day of the race. Maybe 6 days pre-race is too soon. I can't remember how many days I had that surge of electric speeding adrenaline running through me. Maybe it will come on Wednesday.
Maybe I should add here that my training has not been all that strenuous. Oh it's there, all right. My training program is great...but I'm not doing it all. The stuff on my own? Forget it. It's been a half assed effort at best to get the extra runs in, the cross training. Too much going on, as usual.
So I should be nervous. Veeerrry nervous, right? And I'm not. At this point, I'm almost wondering if I've just got the confidence I need, knowing that I'll finish it, regardless.
Yet, I am desperately fearing I have some arrogance about me where arrogance is certainly not desired, earned or wanted. I have NO reason to be arrogant about a damn thing, to be honest.
So where are my nerves!? Without sounding like a whiny freak here, I'm going to say that the biggest thing I'm nervous about is my lack of nervousness. Does that make a lick of sense at all? I should be nervous. I should be scared out of my mind, knowing that it's my first long long race, I've not done everything possible to ensure a good race, I've had some knee problems, my foot is acting up again*, it's the first race kiddo will be able to see me in, I technically don't really have anyone close to me doing this with me, and it's freaking hard.
I can't say for sure why I feel so calm. Is it that I'm more mentally ready than I think I should be? Is it that I just don't care? Maybe it has not become a reality yet?
Lord knows. Nothing I can do about it now at this point. In a little more than 24 hours I'll be there to pick up the race packet. Then it's on! oh my.
* this is a whole 'nother Oprah. Existing foot issue I pretend not to have. Generally mild, not much of a problem, has not bothered me until recently, and again, I choose to ignore it for now.
I've gone as much as 11.5 miles, the amount my training took me. It was tough. Veeerrry tough. But I did it. I've been thinking about this for a long time now, been preparing for it and I'm 6 days pre-race and I don't have a single jitter, not a speck of adrenaline. um. Yeah.
I can't remember exactly, but before my first race, a 5k, I remember having nerves and adrenaline quite some time ahead of the day of the race. Maybe 6 days pre-race is too soon. I can't remember how many days I had that surge of electric speeding adrenaline running through me. Maybe it will come on Wednesday.
Maybe I should add here that my training has not been all that strenuous. Oh it's there, all right. My training program is great...but I'm not doing it all. The stuff on my own? Forget it. It's been a half assed effort at best to get the extra runs in, the cross training. Too much going on, as usual.
So I should be nervous. Veeerrry nervous, right? And I'm not. At this point, I'm almost wondering if I've just got the confidence I need, knowing that I'll finish it, regardless.
Yet, I am desperately fearing I have some arrogance about me where arrogance is certainly not desired, earned or wanted. I have NO reason to be arrogant about a damn thing, to be honest.
So where are my nerves!? Without sounding like a whiny freak here, I'm going to say that the biggest thing I'm nervous about is my lack of nervousness. Does that make a lick of sense at all? I should be nervous. I should be scared out of my mind, knowing that it's my first long long race, I've not done everything possible to ensure a good race, I've had some knee problems, my foot is acting up again*, it's the first race kiddo will be able to see me in, I technically don't really have anyone close to me doing this with me, and it's freaking hard.
I can't say for sure why I feel so calm. Is it that I'm more mentally ready than I think I should be? Is it that I just don't care? Maybe it has not become a reality yet?
Lord knows. Nothing I can do about it now at this point. In a little more than 24 hours I'll be there to pick up the race packet. Then it's on! oh my.
* this is a whole 'nother Oprah. Existing foot issue I pretend not to have. Generally mild, not much of a problem, has not bothered me until recently, and again, I choose to ignore it for now.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Cancer & kiddos and cars...oh my.
I've never been good at 'when life gets in the way' kinda stuff, so when I'm training for a race and life gets in the way, I'll admit my reactions are not always the way to go. This past week? Oh my.
It started off with my husband having a potential cancer scare. Not feeling so great, and some wonky test results had us wandering around with that horrible unknown question. While a pre-occupied run might have been a good idea, the thought of facing cancer, and potentially losing yet another loved one to cancer scared me stiff. Literally. I told myself I was not going to stress until I had something to stress about. yeah. right.
Monday night I came home to car trouble. Missed my Tuesday speed workout so I could pick up the rental car. Oh well. What are you gonna do? Three days, a rental car and $1500 later, the car is fixed and all is well, but once again life just got in the way.
Then my mom took a stumble and ended up in the Emergency Room on Thursday. It was minor, she's fine and all is well, but the sheer momentary panic and waiting in the ER was enough to make me go batty-again. Another workout missed, but again, what are you gonna do?
And of course, let's add to that, kiddos birthday party planning for Saturday. Her first sleepover and her nerves and adrenaline were enough to send us all batty. The planning and doing for the party went well, but trying to do it all, was never going to happen. Or so we thought.
The cake topper here is the 11 miles I was facing on Saturday. Never having done that, I was in a sheer panic most of the week. Knowing that I had so much going on, my nerves were shot, my sleep was jacked, I was in a state of mind that felt like drowning.
Not to mention about 2 hours after my 11 miler, I'd be expecting about 25 family and friends to show up for the day party. Good God. What have I done.
With roughly 7 hours of sleep between Friday and Saturday, by the grace of God, I survived it all.
By the time Sunday came around, my exhausted mind started to wonder if I could consider this training. It was pushing my body past anything normal, I was managing to figure out how to do it, and.... I didn't even cry! Don't I get points for that or something?
I'm not proud to admit I did not even try to make up for any lost workouts.
I'm not proud to admit I reacted with the stress by eating like a fraternity.
I'm not proud to admit I thought of quitting training all together, because it's too hard.
I'm not proud to admit I cursed myself for getting myself into this nonsense of running a half.
yet...I'm proud to admit that I did it.
I'm proud to admit that I didn't give in to my thoughts and quit.
I'm proud to admit that I can admit it all...the good, the bad, the ugly.
I'm proud to admit that I didn't even cry.
It started off with my husband having a potential cancer scare. Not feeling so great, and some wonky test results had us wandering around with that horrible unknown question. While a pre-occupied run might have been a good idea, the thought of facing cancer, and potentially losing yet another loved one to cancer scared me stiff. Literally. I told myself I was not going to stress until I had something to stress about. yeah. right.
Monday night I came home to car trouble. Missed my Tuesday speed workout so I could pick up the rental car. Oh well. What are you gonna do? Three days, a rental car and $1500 later, the car is fixed and all is well, but once again life just got in the way.
Then my mom took a stumble and ended up in the Emergency Room on Thursday. It was minor, she's fine and all is well, but the sheer momentary panic and waiting in the ER was enough to make me go batty-again. Another workout missed, but again, what are you gonna do?
And of course, let's add to that, kiddos birthday party planning for Saturday. Her first sleepover and her nerves and adrenaline were enough to send us all batty. The planning and doing for the party went well, but trying to do it all, was never going to happen. Or so we thought.
The cake topper here is the 11 miles I was facing on Saturday. Never having done that, I was in a sheer panic most of the week. Knowing that I had so much going on, my nerves were shot, my sleep was jacked, I was in a state of mind that felt like drowning.
Not to mention about 2 hours after my 11 miler, I'd be expecting about 25 family and friends to show up for the day party. Good God. What have I done.
With roughly 7 hours of sleep between Friday and Saturday, by the grace of God, I survived it all.
By the time Sunday came around, my exhausted mind started to wonder if I could consider this training. It was pushing my body past anything normal, I was managing to figure out how to do it, and.... I didn't even cry! Don't I get points for that or something?
I'm not proud to admit I did not even try to make up for any lost workouts.
I'm not proud to admit I reacted with the stress by eating like a fraternity.
I'm not proud to admit I thought of quitting training all together, because it's too hard.
I'm not proud to admit I cursed myself for getting myself into this nonsense of running a half.
yet...I'm proud to admit that I did it.
I'm proud to admit that I didn't give in to my thoughts and quit.
I'm proud to admit that I can admit it all...the good, the bad, the ugly.
I'm proud to admit that I didn't even cry.
Monday, February 25, 2013
Touched by A Runner
It seems to be happening more and more. I'm sincerely touched by a runner.
I'm terribly lucky to live in a city of Rivers and winding, long bike trails and levees to run on. These bike trails are also used by walkers, runners, children taking a picnic and swimmers, looking for the next swimming access. It's these paths that I've spent a majority of my time training on this session and it's opened my eyes to a side of running I never really knew before.
This past Saturday was a perfect example. As I trudged along, I'm sure looking at least a tiny bit pathetic, I lost count how many runners ran past me and gave me a comment to boost:
" You look great"
" Atta girl, don't stop"
" You are doin' it!"
" Way to go, young lady"
" Good job"
" Excellent form!"
" That was a great transition"
" Keep going, you are awesome"
All words from people I don't know. It absolutely astounds me.
Never before have I encountered this kind of support from strangers. Lord knows why. Maybe I was the introvert? Being a big chick, I never wanted that kind of attention on me, so I introverted? Who knows. In any case, I both love it and want to crawl in a hole when I hear it.
It does honestly make me feel good to hear the kindness. Absolutely. Yet on the same note, I don't like the attention on me, so it also makes me want to disappear. I guess if I had my choice, I'd simply stay invisible while I run. But then to miss those comments that are so kind...
In the world today, it seems everything is getting nasty. Jobs are scarce, money is tight, abundance is hard to find, the stress and pressure people are feeling and facing is making it an ugly ugly world. Stress and pressure, unhappiness do not make for the nicest of humans, no?
So to get this little gem, even if it were once a month on a run, would still be worth it. When a runner is out there running, it doesn't matter to him/her if the person they are passing wears thrift store vs. designer, single vs. divorced, in debt vs.rich, a chocolate addict vs. afraid of caffeine.
It's as if nothing else matters and the only thing you get respect for is what you are doing: running.
Runners know how hard it is. Whether they are 16 years old or have been in 860 marathons, they know. Even if it's no longer terribly hard for them, they know when it's hard for someone to push on. The fact that people push through the hard seems to give instant respect and gratitude simply for doing what they choose to do.
What a beautiful thing this is.
I'm terribly lucky to live in a city of Rivers and winding, long bike trails and levees to run on. These bike trails are also used by walkers, runners, children taking a picnic and swimmers, looking for the next swimming access. It's these paths that I've spent a majority of my time training on this session and it's opened my eyes to a side of running I never really knew before.
This past Saturday was a perfect example. As I trudged along, I'm sure looking at least a tiny bit pathetic, I lost count how many runners ran past me and gave me a comment to boost:
" You look great"
" Atta girl, don't stop"
" You are doin' it!"
" Way to go, young lady"
" Good job"
" Excellent form!"
" That was a great transition"
" Keep going, you are awesome"
All words from people I don't know. It absolutely astounds me.
Never before have I encountered this kind of support from strangers. Lord knows why. Maybe I was the introvert? Being a big chick, I never wanted that kind of attention on me, so I introverted? Who knows. In any case, I both love it and want to crawl in a hole when I hear it.
It does honestly make me feel good to hear the kindness. Absolutely. Yet on the same note, I don't like the attention on me, so it also makes me want to disappear. I guess if I had my choice, I'd simply stay invisible while I run. But then to miss those comments that are so kind...
In the world today, it seems everything is getting nasty. Jobs are scarce, money is tight, abundance is hard to find, the stress and pressure people are feeling and facing is making it an ugly ugly world. Stress and pressure, unhappiness do not make for the nicest of humans, no?
So to get this little gem, even if it were once a month on a run, would still be worth it. When a runner is out there running, it doesn't matter to him/her if the person they are passing wears thrift store vs. designer, single vs. divorced, in debt vs.rich, a chocolate addict vs. afraid of caffeine.
It's as if nothing else matters and the only thing you get respect for is what you are doing: running.
Runners know how hard it is. Whether they are 16 years old or have been in 860 marathons, they know. Even if it's no longer terribly hard for them, they know when it's hard for someone to push on. The fact that people push through the hard seems to give instant respect and gratitude simply for doing what they choose to do.
What a beautiful thing this is.
The Educated Runner
When I first started my program back in January 2012, I dubbed it 'running school' in order to simplify the training program description to others who didnt really know or care to know what it was. Indeed, I did consider it 'school' as I was 'learning' how to run. Never before had I known there was a proper 'way' to run. Fast forward more than a year later and I'm still learning. While training for the half marathon, it seems that every single run I'm experiencing something new to figure out.
This week I learned about the dreaded Garmin Battery fail. I could throw things at myself for being dumb. I failed to even check the battery level of my beloved Garmin and it died 2 miles before finishing. damndamndamn. Oh well.
One week it was the bitter cold, one week it was a gastro-intestinal war, one week is was extreme hunger, dead batteries, sand in the shoes, more fuel needed, skipped bathroom opportunities...my God, it never ever ends, does it!?
But overall, it's a bit exciting. With more experience and more knowledge, the more I delve into the world of runners, the more I learn. There's still a lot to experience, there's still a lot to see, learn and do.
I've been reading so much on running lately and while some of it's just auto-biographies, useful, practical tips, some of it is just...mind blowing. In Born To Run, there's a section on UltraRunning, a 100 mile race. My God. 100 miles? And all the while, I'm terribly impressed with my 9 miles thus far. 'Oy.
I'm loving The Rules of Running while it's a bit on the comedy side, it's actually got some good tips, likely that which won't be seen in the likes of " Runners World" Discussions of farting, blowing snot rockets, and the like. The real stuff. It's a fun read thus far with some excellent suggestions.
Between the experience, the coaching, the upped mileage, the peeps, the books on sports psychology, practical tips, autobiographies of 'been there, done that' and more, I love learning about the sport. As someone who loved college, school in general and a self professed book nerd, this is one more arena of learning I'm loving.
This week I learned about the dreaded Garmin Battery fail. I could throw things at myself for being dumb. I failed to even check the battery level of my beloved Garmin and it died 2 miles before finishing. damndamndamn. Oh well.
One week it was the bitter cold, one week it was a gastro-intestinal war, one week is was extreme hunger, dead batteries, sand in the shoes, more fuel needed, skipped bathroom opportunities...my God, it never ever ends, does it!?
But overall, it's a bit exciting. With more experience and more knowledge, the more I delve into the world of runners, the more I learn. There's still a lot to experience, there's still a lot to see, learn and do.
I've been reading so much on running lately and while some of it's just auto-biographies, useful, practical tips, some of it is just...mind blowing. In Born To Run, there's a section on UltraRunning, a 100 mile race. My God. 100 miles? And all the while, I'm terribly impressed with my 9 miles thus far. 'Oy.
I'm loving The Rules of Running while it's a bit on the comedy side, it's actually got some good tips, likely that which won't be seen in the likes of " Runners World" Discussions of farting, blowing snot rockets, and the like. The real stuff. It's a fun read thus far with some excellent suggestions.
Between the experience, the coaching, the upped mileage, the peeps, the books on sports psychology, practical tips, autobiographies of 'been there, done that' and more, I love learning about the sport. As someone who loved college, school in general and a self professed book nerd, this is one more arena of learning I'm loving.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
It's All Relative.
I started reading " Born To Run", thus far about the Tarahumara people and their amazing running abilities. I read a part about a super human 100 mile run, where the aid stations/bathrooms were about every 15 miles.
Wait. About ever 15 MILES? omigod.
I had to read that over about four times for it to really sink in. That would be the same as my upcoming half marathon having no aid stations at all. The thought absolutely horrified me. Then it occurred to me that on this upcoming 9 mile training run, I understood there to be only one bathroom at the 1/2 mile mark. When I heard this, I specifically told Koach Kutie 'that's insane. Seriously?'
I silently objected like there was no tomorrow. Had I thought there was any point in doing so, I would have bitched and moaned about it from here until Saturday.
No, rather I'm just looking at it as one more thing to challenge myself, to see how well I can pull this off. It might be a horrendous experience, I might learn how others do it, I might learn that I should carry kleenex with me on all runs. Who knows? While I'm deathly afraid of repeating last weeks gastro-intestinal horror, I'll still forge on. Somehow. Imodium anyone? Yeah, I'm only part kidding.
Reading about the every-15-mile-aid race got me to thinking. People actually do that. Okay, well not this people, but other people do it. The thought of doing anything more than 13.1 miles is absolutely insane, scary and almost foreign to me. But people actually do things like that. Amazing.
What's even more amazing is that the human body can do it. It's been proven time and time again just how far the human body can be physically pushed. Even without the comfort of an aid station every time you need it.
In World War II, an airman by the name of Louis Zamperini was lost at sea for a grueling [something like ] 45 days. No food, no fresh water, only sea. Battling hunger, a fellow airman dying, no rescue in sight. After that, he was captured by the enemy and held as a POW for [something like] three years. Starved, beaten, living in horrendous conditions not even fit for an animal...and he survived. Did I mention that Louis Zamerini was also an Olympic runner? *
There are still situations in the world that make it simply amazing how much the human body can endure. I believe for many of us, it's the mind that has the catching up to do. Why we can't just wait and see is kinda beyond me. Do what we intend to do and see what happens. Can we actually do that? The fear of the unknown is a factor for myself, I get that. But knowing that the human body can endure so much more than we give it credit for might help just a little.
I'm truly hoping as I conquer my 9 miles this weekend that I'll have the clarity to remember people like the Tarahumara 'running people' and Louis Zamperini and recall what they have pushed themselves to do. I'm hoping that when I need to 'go' about mile 2,4,6,7,8, I'll remember that I'm not going to die if I don't get instant relief. I'm not going to have to go another 12 miles with no relief. That in the case of a severe need, I'll simply remember the Kleenex and hop behind a bush. A little uncomfortable? Oh get over it. It's not a permanent thing, it may never be repeated. Push yourself to hard. And who knows? The rest of it might seem relatively easy.
* because I don't want to get sued, I'll add these details might not be entirely correct. This is only a gist, a summary of the book "Unbroken" By Laura Hilenbrand. An amazing story I could not put down!
Wait. About ever 15 MILES? omigod.
I had to read that over about four times for it to really sink in. That would be the same as my upcoming half marathon having no aid stations at all. The thought absolutely horrified me. Then it occurred to me that on this upcoming 9 mile training run, I understood there to be only one bathroom at the 1/2 mile mark. When I heard this, I specifically told Koach Kutie 'that's insane. Seriously?'
I silently objected like there was no tomorrow. Had I thought there was any point in doing so, I would have bitched and moaned about it from here until Saturday.
No, rather I'm just looking at it as one more thing to challenge myself, to see how well I can pull this off. It might be a horrendous experience, I might learn how others do it, I might learn that I should carry kleenex with me on all runs. Who knows? While I'm deathly afraid of repeating last weeks gastro-intestinal horror, I'll still forge on. Somehow. Imodium anyone? Yeah, I'm only part kidding.
Reading about the every-15-mile-aid race got me to thinking. People actually do that. Okay, well not this people, but other people do it. The thought of doing anything more than 13.1 miles is absolutely insane, scary and almost foreign to me. But people actually do things like that. Amazing.
What's even more amazing is that the human body can do it. It's been proven time and time again just how far the human body can be physically pushed. Even without the comfort of an aid station every time you need it.
In World War II, an airman by the name of Louis Zamperini was lost at sea for a grueling [something like ] 45 days. No food, no fresh water, only sea. Battling hunger, a fellow airman dying, no rescue in sight. After that, he was captured by the enemy and held as a POW for [something like] three years. Starved, beaten, living in horrendous conditions not even fit for an animal...and he survived. Did I mention that Louis Zamerini was also an Olympic runner? *
There are still situations in the world that make it simply amazing how much the human body can endure. I believe for many of us, it's the mind that has the catching up to do. Why we can't just wait and see is kinda beyond me. Do what we intend to do and see what happens. Can we actually do that? The fear of the unknown is a factor for myself, I get that. But knowing that the human body can endure so much more than we give it credit for might help just a little.
I'm truly hoping as I conquer my 9 miles this weekend that I'll have the clarity to remember people like the Tarahumara 'running people' and Louis Zamperini and recall what they have pushed themselves to do. I'm hoping that when I need to 'go' about mile 2,4,6,7,8, I'll remember that I'm not going to die if I don't get instant relief. I'm not going to have to go another 12 miles with no relief. That in the case of a severe need, I'll simply remember the Kleenex and hop behind a bush. A little uncomfortable? Oh get over it. It's not a permanent thing, it may never be repeated. Push yourself to hard. And who knows? The rest of it might seem relatively easy.
* because I don't want to get sued, I'll add these details might not be entirely correct. This is only a gist, a summary of the book "Unbroken" By Laura Hilenbrand. An amazing story I could not put down!
Monday, February 18, 2013
The Epic Battle
Saturday I had my longest run ever. 8.2 miles. As prepared as I was not, I did it anyway. Little did I know this would be a run most memorable for the worst reasons. As soon as I got to the meeting spot for a 7 am run, my gastro-intestal organs started arguing. By the time the run actually started, it launched on a full on war. So very very uncool.
I recalled my thought process on a day like to day. It went something like this:
Oh, that doesn't sound good. Was that MY stomach? Uh oh. Uhh...did I eat something I shouldn't have before a run last night? Well of course I did. Don't I always? Yup. That's me. Dumbass.
So wait, why am I doing this again? This is effin' hard. I'm tired. I slept well, but damn this is hard. I don't wanna do this anymore. I don't. I'm done. I could turn around right now and...oh damn, I'm going to need that bathroom stop. How far away? omigod. I've only gone a half mile? Another mile to the bathroom. OK, speed it up to get there quicker. omigod! No. Extra fast juggling of innards is NOT going to help. I could be in real trouble here. So OK, why am I doing this? It's too hard. I don't wanna. It's not like it helps anything. Ok, plenty of bushes I could jump behind for relief, but I have no tissue. Not going to work. So, what makes me do this? I feel worse because everyone always passes me, I'm too slow. Not helping my esteem. I'm going to talk to Coach Cutie. I'll ask her why I'm doing this. Oh whatever. If I don't know she sure as hell isn't going to know. omigod. Bathroom. Now.
I finally did reach the bathroom, after the ever important struggle of do I go extra fast and juggle things around or just go slow? I made the ever important realization that I do not have the skill of clenching and running. Nope. I wonder if they'll teach that? That was a bad bad experience.
OK, much much better. Now I'll be able to catch up. Whew. That was a close one. God, what would I have done if.....no. don't even go there. Okay, time for a Gu! Vanilla Gu. Huh, not bad, but kinda... Yick. Nah. I'll stick with the chocolate. It might look like pooh, but it tastes like frosting.
God, this is hard. Why am I doing this? What did that last blog post say? Because it's hard? What the hell did I mean? I don't even understand that. Forget it. That's not it.
So what if I quit? What if I DIDN'T do the race? No biggie. Would people judge? How would that feel? Oh hell, you and I both know I'd never forgive myself. Wait, you and I? Who the hell else is in here? Uh oh. Oh I'm crazy now. It must be the fatigue. I'd better stop and lie down now. No, that's embarrassing. Omigod. Only one more mile until turn around. hell yes! Omigod. Bathroom. Now.
Okay, only three more miles until I'm done. God, I'm tired. Where is that G*& D*&^ porta potty?That homeless guy on a bike. I wonder if I offered him a twenty if he'd give me his bike. Riding would be easier and faster at this point. Damn, no cash on me. Okay mental note to carry cash for emergency bike purchases. yes. That's a good idea. Omigod. Bathroom. Now.
How do these skinny little high school boys make this look so easy? Oh yeah, they are like what, 14? Yeah. Okay.
I will say that seeing the bathroom/porta potties on this particular run was like seeing Mecca. Beautiful. I've never ever been so incredibly glad to see a smelly, plastic box containing so much gross.
But I did it. And my clothing stayed clean, I did not humiliate myself on the bike trail. I didn't even puke!! Woo hoo!!! By far the biggest success yet. I did it. I did it. I did it.
I recalled my thought process on a day like to day. It went something like this:
Oh, that doesn't sound good. Was that MY stomach? Uh oh. Uhh...did I eat something I shouldn't have before a run last night? Well of course I did. Don't I always? Yup. That's me. Dumbass.
So wait, why am I doing this again? This is effin' hard. I'm tired. I slept well, but damn this is hard. I don't wanna do this anymore. I don't. I'm done. I could turn around right now and...oh damn, I'm going to need that bathroom stop. How far away? omigod. I've only gone a half mile? Another mile to the bathroom. OK, speed it up to get there quicker. omigod! No. Extra fast juggling of innards is NOT going to help. I could be in real trouble here. So OK, why am I doing this? It's too hard. I don't wanna. It's not like it helps anything. Ok, plenty of bushes I could jump behind for relief, but I have no tissue. Not going to work. So, what makes me do this? I feel worse because everyone always passes me, I'm too slow. Not helping my esteem. I'm going to talk to Coach Cutie. I'll ask her why I'm doing this. Oh whatever. If I don't know she sure as hell isn't going to know. omigod. Bathroom. Now.
I finally did reach the bathroom, after the ever important struggle of do I go extra fast and juggle things around or just go slow? I made the ever important realization that I do not have the skill of clenching and running. Nope. I wonder if they'll teach that? That was a bad bad experience.
OK, much much better. Now I'll be able to catch up. Whew. That was a close one. God, what would I have done if.....no. don't even go there. Okay, time for a Gu! Vanilla Gu. Huh, not bad, but kinda... Yick. Nah. I'll stick with the chocolate. It might look like pooh, but it tastes like frosting.
God, this is hard. Why am I doing this? What did that last blog post say? Because it's hard? What the hell did I mean? I don't even understand that. Forget it. That's not it.
So what if I quit? What if I DIDN'T do the race? No biggie. Would people judge? How would that feel? Oh hell, you and I both know I'd never forgive myself. Wait, you and I? Who the hell else is in here? Uh oh. Oh I'm crazy now. It must be the fatigue. I'd better stop and lie down now. No, that's embarrassing. Omigod. Only one more mile until turn around. hell yes! Omigod. Bathroom. Now.
Okay, only three more miles until I'm done. God, I'm tired. Where is that G*& D*&^ porta potty?That homeless guy on a bike. I wonder if I offered him a twenty if he'd give me his bike. Riding would be easier and faster at this point. Damn, no cash on me. Okay mental note to carry cash for emergency bike purchases. yes. That's a good idea. Omigod. Bathroom. Now.
How do these skinny little high school boys make this look so easy? Oh yeah, they are like what, 14? Yeah. Okay.
I will say that seeing the bathroom/porta potties on this particular run was like seeing Mecca. Beautiful. I've never ever been so incredibly glad to see a smelly, plastic box containing so much gross.
But I did it. And my clothing stayed clean, I did not humiliate myself on the bike trail. I didn't even puke!! Woo hoo!!! By far the biggest success yet. I did it. I did it. I did it.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Me, the Mental Moron?
It's times like this when I really do question my own sanity, thoughts, and outlooks on all this running jazz.
Coach Cutie, asked how everyone felt on the last 7 miler. No one really said much, but one piped up with a groan. I didn't hear all of what was said, but it sounded like it was miserable for her. I think I heard the world horrible.
Seriously? From my point of view, it looked like she had been running for years. How could it be horrible? Why would it be hard? She's in shape! She's got amazing legs!
This is where my thinking is so skewed. Of course it's hard for her. What, like it's only hard for me? Oh, so it's harder for me because I'm old and fat? Oh yeah, that's it. Moron!
How and why do I STILL think like this?
Sometimes, if I could, I'd like to smack myself upside the head.
I suppose, after some thought that it does come down to low self esteem? Maybe I don't truly see myself as a runner because I've still got a lot of weight on me? This is actually a hard call for me, because I do tend to feel really amazing about myself for what I've accomplished. I've long accepted that I'm still 'new' at this, I'm not fast, I'm not mighty....and I'm okay with that! So then why do I constantly pull myself down like I do? I may never know the answer.
It's not that everyone else makes it look easy, in my mind, I know it's hard for everyone. If it were easy, everyone would do it. I guess I figure I struggle more than anyone else, because at times I kinda do think I'm an inherently lazy person, playing dress up as a runner. I don't know what exactly it will take to get my mind caught up with the game...perhaps time will tell.
Here's to hoping.
Coach Cutie, asked how everyone felt on the last 7 miler. No one really said much, but one piped up with a groan. I didn't hear all of what was said, but it sounded like it was miserable for her. I think I heard the world horrible.
Seriously? From my point of view, it looked like she had been running for years. How could it be horrible? Why would it be hard? She's in shape! She's got amazing legs!
This is where my thinking is so skewed. Of course it's hard for her. What, like it's only hard for me? Oh, so it's harder for me because I'm old and fat? Oh yeah, that's it. Moron!
How and why do I STILL think like this?
Sometimes, if I could, I'd like to smack myself upside the head.
I suppose, after some thought that it does come down to low self esteem? Maybe I don't truly see myself as a runner because I've still got a lot of weight on me? This is actually a hard call for me, because I do tend to feel really amazing about myself for what I've accomplished. I've long accepted that I'm still 'new' at this, I'm not fast, I'm not mighty....and I'm okay with that! So then why do I constantly pull myself down like I do? I may never know the answer.
It's not that everyone else makes it look easy, in my mind, I know it's hard for everyone. If it were easy, everyone would do it. I guess I figure I struggle more than anyone else, because at times I kinda do think I'm an inherently lazy person, playing dress up as a runner. I don't know what exactly it will take to get my mind caught up with the game...perhaps time will tell.
Here's to hoping.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
No One Cares? Really?
I've seen it twice now. The statement that no one ( or at least non-runners) don't care about your latest PR, your latest mileage increase. None of it.
Really? God, that's so sad!
But I find it's true. Even when people appear to be interested, they seemingly stop listening, walk away or get that far away 'im now thinking of puppies' look. Yesterday, I had someone at work ask how the latest 7 miles was. When I started to say " It was tough, but I did it." too late, already gone by the time the word 'tough' got out of my mouth. Almighty then. Moving on.
I've noticed this kind of thing before, so I try to be very very cautious not to bring it up where I don't think it's welcome information. In the office, for example, I don't bring it up, unless someone asks. But that's when I notice it, still....so I'd kinda like to yell at them If you don't want to know, DON'T ASK! Is that not obvious?
I guess it can go along the same lines as asking about a new baby or puppy or new home construction. But common sense would tell me, if you aren't interested, don't ask for crying out loud. It's kind of a "don't ask, don't tell" thing, I suppose.
A part of me gets disappointed in this truth, because I'm one who needs to toot my own horn. Just a bit, here and there, because the more I say it, the more even I believe it. Sometimes it's just nice to hear that "good job" even if you know they don't mean it. It's not that I look for validation for the running that I do, but if I'm being honest here, I'm impressed with myself some days. I often fear I'm truly a lazy person at heart so even that slow 2 miler is impressive to me some days. I'm proud of myself. I want to shout from the rooftops " Hey! I wasn't lazy today!"
Talking to other runners for me, some days is even worse. That mighty marathoner who runs at the speed of light will say "hey that's a good start" when discussing your latest 6 mile feat that nearly killed you. A good start? No, this is a lifelong achievement that will be on my tombstone, thank you very much. Sigh. Then there's the beginner who can't relate. A one miler seems impossible, so a 6 miler may as well be a 120 miler. I suppose it's all relative.
Overall, no, the outsider opinion, validation, encouragement shouldn't be needed. For some, it is. Some days it's what we need to give us a push. When it's not there, it's not there. Nothing we can do about it, except press on and keep that little secret to yourself. When remembering my little 'secret' about my new found and increasing abilities, I find it gives me a boost, a push and a reason to hold my head a little higher.
Really? God, that's so sad!
But I find it's true. Even when people appear to be interested, they seemingly stop listening, walk away or get that far away 'im now thinking of puppies' look. Yesterday, I had someone at work ask how the latest 7 miles was. When I started to say " It was tough, but I did it." too late, already gone by the time the word 'tough' got out of my mouth. Almighty then. Moving on.
I've noticed this kind of thing before, so I try to be very very cautious not to bring it up where I don't think it's welcome information. In the office, for example, I don't bring it up, unless someone asks. But that's when I notice it, still....so I'd kinda like to yell at them If you don't want to know, DON'T ASK! Is that not obvious?
I guess it can go along the same lines as asking about a new baby or puppy or new home construction. But common sense would tell me, if you aren't interested, don't ask for crying out loud. It's kind of a "don't ask, don't tell" thing, I suppose.
A part of me gets disappointed in this truth, because I'm one who needs to toot my own horn. Just a bit, here and there, because the more I say it, the more even I believe it. Sometimes it's just nice to hear that "good job" even if you know they don't mean it. It's not that I look for validation for the running that I do, but if I'm being honest here, I'm impressed with myself some days. I often fear I'm truly a lazy person at heart so even that slow 2 miler is impressive to me some days. I'm proud of myself. I want to shout from the rooftops " Hey! I wasn't lazy today!"
Talking to other runners for me, some days is even worse. That mighty marathoner who runs at the speed of light will say "hey that's a good start" when discussing your latest 6 mile feat that nearly killed you. A good start? No, this is a lifelong achievement that will be on my tombstone, thank you very much. Sigh. Then there's the beginner who can't relate. A one miler seems impossible, so a 6 miler may as well be a 120 miler. I suppose it's all relative.
Overall, no, the outsider opinion, validation, encouragement shouldn't be needed. For some, it is. Some days it's what we need to give us a push. When it's not there, it's not there. Nothing we can do about it, except press on and keep that little secret to yourself. When remembering my little 'secret' about my new found and increasing abilities, I find it gives me a boost, a push and a reason to hold my head a little higher.
Monday, February 11, 2013
The Mental Madness
Saturday was my longest scheduled run ever. A training run for the half marathon. Seven miles.
I had been working on my mental game for awhile, knew what I had to do, told myself what I was going to do, set myself up mentally and just did it.
As with any long run, I got the inevitable thought invasion:
" What the hell am I doing?"
" This is the craziest.sh!t.ever"
" Why am I doing this? I can't remember"
And there it is. Ironically, when I was trying to remember why I was doing this, I honestly could not remember. Virtually nothing came to mind when I was thinking of why I was doing this, what made me start this and why I'd continue. It wasn't feeling good. It wasn't fun. It wasn't impressing anyone. I'm certainly not yet a size 10. I'm tired of the constant battle of hard vs. easy. I'm tired of juggling so much. I'm just tired.
I decided after this half marathon, in March I was going to be done. Retiring running forever. I did my thing, I proved I can do what I can do. I'm done.
Oh dammit. I already registered for the Triathlon in July. Son of a duck, I have to keep going.
So it got me to thinking, why DON'T I quit?
I don't quit because it's hard.
[ I'd say plain and simple here, but knowing my thought process, it's anything BUT plain and simple]
I don't quit because it's hard, meaning a couple of things.
a) I don't quit even though it's hard
b) I don't quit because it's the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.
With the first meaning, I don't quit because it's hard means I don't stop when the going gets tough, because I too, am tough. The days that I'm not? I simply give myself no other choice There are times when I cannot believe what I've lived through. Which really, in the grand schemes of things? It's nothing comparatively.
The second meaning, I don't quit because it's hard, means I'm essentially inviting the hardest thing in the world into my life. It's because it's hard is why I don't quit. It's the 'hard' that makes it great. It's the 'hard' that makes it the gigantor accomplishment it really is to me.
My sister reads a lot of books on the Holocaust and other war survival stories. She once told me that she reads things like that helps her to realize that no matter how bad we have it, there's always someone with a harder story. Lord is that true. So very very true. I'll admit I've had it relatively easy for much of my life. No major victimage, no horrific drama to live through, no wars or diseases. While not the Waltons or the Brady Bunch life, I have had it pretty good.
I think I choose hard challenges to keep myself trying. If everything we easy, I'm pretty sure I'd get used to that and even the simplest thing would become hard. I guess in the twisted mind of me, if I keep pushing myself, then I become better?
Better at what, I have no clue. Part of me, which I know is both a detriment and an asset, is that I'm always looking for improvement. I'd like to think no part of me will ever stand still. Always reaching, always striving for more. So much of me fears being stale, stagnant, boring, bored, lazy, so I keep striving. Sure, I might now succeed, I might not make any real changes, I might not actually get the accomplishment I want, but for some reason I'm at a point where I cannot seem to stop for long. Again, a detriment and an asset at it's best and worst.
It's kinda a new theory I'm working on, one that is in development still. It's interesting to me, yet at the same time, it all makes me kinda tired.
Ironically, though I feared my 7 mile run on Saturday, my Garmin read 7.502 miles at the end of it. Okay. I got this.
I had been working on my mental game for awhile, knew what I had to do, told myself what I was going to do, set myself up mentally and just did it.
As with any long run, I got the inevitable thought invasion:
" What the hell am I doing?"
" This is the craziest.sh!t.ever"
" Why am I doing this? I can't remember"
And there it is. Ironically, when I was trying to remember why I was doing this, I honestly could not remember. Virtually nothing came to mind when I was thinking of why I was doing this, what made me start this and why I'd continue. It wasn't feeling good. It wasn't fun. It wasn't impressing anyone. I'm certainly not yet a size 10. I'm tired of the constant battle of hard vs. easy. I'm tired of juggling so much. I'm just tired.
I decided after this half marathon, in March I was going to be done. Retiring running forever. I did my thing, I proved I can do what I can do. I'm done.
Oh dammit. I already registered for the Triathlon in July. Son of a duck, I have to keep going.
So it got me to thinking, why DON'T I quit?
I don't quit because it's hard.
[ I'd say plain and simple here, but knowing my thought process, it's anything BUT plain and simple]
I don't quit because it's hard, meaning a couple of things.
a) I don't quit even though it's hard
b) I don't quit because it's the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.
With the first meaning, I don't quit because it's hard means I don't stop when the going gets tough, because I too, am tough. The days that I'm not? I simply give myself no other choice There are times when I cannot believe what I've lived through. Which really, in the grand schemes of things? It's nothing comparatively.
The second meaning, I don't quit because it's hard, means I'm essentially inviting the hardest thing in the world into my life. It's because it's hard is why I don't quit. It's the 'hard' that makes it great. It's the 'hard' that makes it the gigantor accomplishment it really is to me.
My sister reads a lot of books on the Holocaust and other war survival stories. She once told me that she reads things like that helps her to realize that no matter how bad we have it, there's always someone with a harder story. Lord is that true. So very very true. I'll admit I've had it relatively easy for much of my life. No major victimage, no horrific drama to live through, no wars or diseases. While not the Waltons or the Brady Bunch life, I have had it pretty good.
I think I choose hard challenges to keep myself trying. If everything we easy, I'm pretty sure I'd get used to that and even the simplest thing would become hard. I guess in the twisted mind of me, if I keep pushing myself, then I become better?
Better at what, I have no clue. Part of me, which I know is both a detriment and an asset, is that I'm always looking for improvement. I'd like to think no part of me will ever stand still. Always reaching, always striving for more. So much of me fears being stale, stagnant, boring, bored, lazy, so I keep striving. Sure, I might now succeed, I might not make any real changes, I might not actually get the accomplishment I want, but for some reason I'm at a point where I cannot seem to stop for long. Again, a detriment and an asset at it's best and worst.
It's kinda a new theory I'm working on, one that is in development still. It's interesting to me, yet at the same time, it all makes me kinda tired.
Ironically, though I feared my 7 mile run on Saturday, my Garmin read 7.502 miles at the end of it. Okay. I got this.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
It.
In my earlier post, I described how 'it' is back. So what is 'it'??
Honesly I have no idea if I can explain it. I'm confident there are other runners out there who know exactly what I'm talking about. They know that 'it' is common, needed...whatever.
It.
A freedom. A feeling. A detmination. A knowledge. A new kind of confidence. A happiness. A strength. An enjoyment. A power. A balance. An excitment. An ability. A talent. A challenge. A zone. A meditation. A thought process. A success. An adrenaline. A push. A speed. An epiphany.
It comes and goes, nothing I do or say seems to be able to bring it on. It's the best feeling I think I could ever have. It's when running goes from scary, harder than hell, not that enjoyable to all of a sudden a successful, amazing enjoyable thing I can't get enough of. When I first started running, I remember a feeling of dread everytime practice days came along. It was hard. I don't like hard. At some point, I remember 'it'. All of a sudden, it wasn't as hard. It was actually becoming enjoyable. I suddenly had a new confidence about it. I suddenly could not wait to run. I don't think I was any better, faster or anything like that. It's just that it was fitting well with me much better.
I have no idea how to hold onto 'it', but I know I love it. I cherish it and I believe it makes me better all around. Happier, stronger, balanced, tolerant, kinder, more organized....It's just simply awesome.
Honesly I have no idea if I can explain it. I'm confident there are other runners out there who know exactly what I'm talking about. They know that 'it' is common, needed...whatever.
It.
A freedom. A feeling. A detmination. A knowledge. A new kind of confidence. A happiness. A strength. An enjoyment. A power. A balance. An excitment. An ability. A talent. A challenge. A zone. A meditation. A thought process. A success. An adrenaline. A push. A speed. An epiphany.
It comes and goes, nothing I do or say seems to be able to bring it on. It's the best feeling I think I could ever have. It's when running goes from scary, harder than hell, not that enjoyable to all of a sudden a successful, amazing enjoyable thing I can't get enough of. When I first started running, I remember a feeling of dread everytime practice days came along. It was hard. I don't like hard. At some point, I remember 'it'. All of a sudden, it wasn't as hard. It was actually becoming enjoyable. I suddenly had a new confidence about it. I suddenly could not wait to run. I don't think I was any better, faster or anything like that. It's just that it was fitting well with me much better.
I have no idea how to hold onto 'it', but I know I love it. I cherish it and I believe it makes me better all around. Happier, stronger, balanced, tolerant, kinder, more organized....It's just simply awesome.
The Click
Last night on a training run, 'it' came back. I can't say I know exactly what 'it' is, but I was in the zone, I did my thing and I kicked ass!
I was complaining to my Coach shortly before we started about being a 'late bloomer' kinda thing. I absolutely must warm up with a walk anywhere from 15 minutes to 2 miles. Then I can go for a run. She pointed out that it's simple, long distances work for me. Me, really? huh. But it is true. My frustration with the shorter runs, is that by the time I get fully warmed up, I'm done. It frustrates me, because every day I see people who step on the trail and wham...they run. They don't seem to need the warm up like I do and they just...GO. How do they DO that?? I know I know...everyone is different.
Anywho, last night before we even started, I did a one mile walk, to warm up. My calves were burning, but I kept on. I started at the front of the group and I went. I figured I had had enough of a warm up to just go, so I did. My calves were still burning. Not nearly as crippling as usual, but it was hard. I took my walk breaks when needed, but with every millisecond someone passing me, I felt the need for speed. It was, after all a speed work night, so I just went.
Our total time was for 45 minutes. 10 minute warm up, 22.5 minute run,turn around.
I broke the rules a bit...my goal was to get in at least 3 miles in that time. At 1.5 miles I turned around. What happened next I don't even know how, or why...but I ran almost all the way back. I did take a few very very short ( less than 30 seconds) walk breaks. I'd say in the mile and a half back, I likely walked less than two minutes of it.
Where the hell did that come from?!
Never before had I even run one mile straight. Never before had I gone that far, for that long without walking, panting, internally whining and feeling sorry for myself. It was unbelievable. Just at the point where I was ready to start my usual aforementioned crap, I saw the glorious headlights of Howe Avenue where I knew my turnoff was. I ran.
Before last night, there was so much doubt swirling in my head about what I was doing that it made me dizzy. I feared constantly that I had taken too much time off around the holidays that I'd never ever get it back. I had, of course, NO faith in what I have done in the past, and what I could do again.
Part of me realizes that this too is new to me. Of course I had no faith. I'd never taken that much time off and then had to get 'it' back. So there's no real way I would have known. The experiences that I face everyday is what make me stronger. Well, that...and a helluva a lot of work.
I was complaining to my Coach shortly before we started about being a 'late bloomer' kinda thing. I absolutely must warm up with a walk anywhere from 15 minutes to 2 miles. Then I can go for a run. She pointed out that it's simple, long distances work for me. Me, really? huh. But it is true. My frustration with the shorter runs, is that by the time I get fully warmed up, I'm done. It frustrates me, because every day I see people who step on the trail and wham...they run. They don't seem to need the warm up like I do and they just...GO. How do they DO that?? I know I know...everyone is different.
Anywho, last night before we even started, I did a one mile walk, to warm up. My calves were burning, but I kept on. I started at the front of the group and I went. I figured I had had enough of a warm up to just go, so I did. My calves were still burning. Not nearly as crippling as usual, but it was hard. I took my walk breaks when needed, but with every millisecond someone passing me, I felt the need for speed. It was, after all a speed work night, so I just went.
Our total time was for 45 minutes. 10 minute warm up, 22.5 minute run,turn around.
I broke the rules a bit...my goal was to get in at least 3 miles in that time. At 1.5 miles I turned around. What happened next I don't even know how, or why...but I ran almost all the way back. I did take a few very very short ( less than 30 seconds) walk breaks. I'd say in the mile and a half back, I likely walked less than two minutes of it.
Where the hell did that come from?!
Never before had I even run one mile straight. Never before had I gone that far, for that long without walking, panting, internally whining and feeling sorry for myself. It was unbelievable. Just at the point where I was ready to start my usual aforementioned crap, I saw the glorious headlights of Howe Avenue where I knew my turnoff was. I ran.
Before last night, there was so much doubt swirling in my head about what I was doing that it made me dizzy. I feared constantly that I had taken too much time off around the holidays that I'd never ever get it back. I had, of course, NO faith in what I have done in the past, and what I could do again.
Part of me realizes that this too is new to me. Of course I had no faith. I'd never taken that much time off and then had to get 'it' back. So there's no real way I would have known. The experiences that I face everyday is what make me stronger. Well, that...and a helluva a lot of work.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Ok, On to the Good Stuff- Why I run for Sherry
In Yesterday's post, I told you the heartbreaking and angering story of Sherry Arnold. The wife, mother, teacher, runner that disappeared in a morning run. Making us all remember that we are so very vulnerable as runners out there. Casting a certain ugliness into the sport.
Today, I want to bring some life and light into the ugliness that has to be acknowledged.
Sherry's cousin, a blogger I've been following for quite some time and have come to love, Shut Up and Run is announcing the 2nd annual virtual Run for Sherry. Happening on 2/9/13, it's a run to simply remember. To ensure that running is not a fading sport. To ensure that in the midst of tragedy, runners will run on. We may be scared out there, but we are not going to allow the bad to overcome the goodness only fellow runners can understand.
Without this sport, so many of us would never ever know our true potential. We would see other runners and be in awe of what they can do. Never understanding that the race or event we see is only about a tenth of the battle. The training, the time away from home, the aches, the pains, the missing toenails, the embarrassing occurrences...all of it remains to be seen to so many.
We would never know just how far we can push ourselves. We would never know just how much our bodies could do. We would never know just how strong we really are.
Runners are a breed of their own. I've come to acknowledge that over the past year. Rain, snow, thunder, hills, flood, Hurricane Sandy...it seems nothing can keep them down. The determination, the dedication, the will power to simply keep going is amazing. Whether or not I can be included in that breed, I have yet to determine. At times the title seems too great, as though I've not yet earned it. Other times, I take the title easily. I think it's truly an honor to be considered a runner.
I recently was with my training group out on a long winding trail near the river in my town. It's a popular spot for runners, walkers and bikers. As I'm still one of the slowest, I found myself far behind most of the group, not another trainee, coach or mentor in sight. Though my 'mates' were not there to encourage me, I was shocked at how many clearly experienced runners went by me telling me 'You look great.' 'You are doing it'. 'Good for you' ....Each and everyone I wondered "do I know you?"
No, I don't. They don't know me either. But it didn't matter. They saw me, obviously not having an easy go at it. They see that I'm a 'round runner' and they know how hard it is. Let's face it, even being the fit, thin, athletes they are, likely it's still hard for them too. Encouragement from stranger after stranger after stranger. It made me glow with pride, love and peace.
Where else in the world could I ever get that kind of support from perfect strangers?
I can't think of anywhere else, in any other situation.
It's reasons like this we need to run for Sherry. Print out the bib. Wear it with pride. It's possible, when you run on Saturday, someone might stop and ask you who she she is. Share her story. The fact that you run for a perfect stranger might touch them in a way that will bring some light to the world. It's possible someone else will be wearing the same bib. A common connection bringing strangers together. In the wake of such sad tragedy, it's up to us remaining to bring on the light.
On Saturday, my training group reaches a harrowing 7 miles. Further than I've ever gone before. While I'm scared, I also know I can do what I can do. My potential is what comes out here. One day I won't be able to do any of it. Saturday is not that day. Saturday, I run for you Sherry.
Today, I want to bring some life and light into the ugliness that has to be acknowledged.
Sherry's cousin, a blogger I've been following for quite some time and have come to love, Shut Up and Run is announcing the 2nd annual virtual Run for Sherry. Happening on 2/9/13, it's a run to simply remember. To ensure that running is not a fading sport. To ensure that in the midst of tragedy, runners will run on. We may be scared out there, but we are not going to allow the bad to overcome the goodness only fellow runners can understand.
Without this sport, so many of us would never ever know our true potential. We would see other runners and be in awe of what they can do. Never understanding that the race or event we see is only about a tenth of the battle. The training, the time away from home, the aches, the pains, the missing toenails, the embarrassing occurrences...all of it remains to be seen to so many.
We would never know just how far we can push ourselves. We would never know just how much our bodies could do. We would never know just how strong we really are.
Runners are a breed of their own. I've come to acknowledge that over the past year. Rain, snow, thunder, hills, flood, Hurricane Sandy...it seems nothing can keep them down. The determination, the dedication, the will power to simply keep going is amazing. Whether or not I can be included in that breed, I have yet to determine. At times the title seems too great, as though I've not yet earned it. Other times, I take the title easily. I think it's truly an honor to be considered a runner.
I recently was with my training group out on a long winding trail near the river in my town. It's a popular spot for runners, walkers and bikers. As I'm still one of the slowest, I found myself far behind most of the group, not another trainee, coach or mentor in sight. Though my 'mates' were not there to encourage me, I was shocked at how many clearly experienced runners went by me telling me 'You look great.' 'You are doing it'. 'Good for you' ....Each and everyone I wondered "do I know you?"
No, I don't. They don't know me either. But it didn't matter. They saw me, obviously not having an easy go at it. They see that I'm a 'round runner' and they know how hard it is. Let's face it, even being the fit, thin, athletes they are, likely it's still hard for them too. Encouragement from stranger after stranger after stranger. It made me glow with pride, love and peace.
Where else in the world could I ever get that kind of support from perfect strangers?
I can't think of anywhere else, in any other situation.
It's reasons like this we need to run for Sherry. Print out the bib. Wear it with pride. It's possible, when you run on Saturday, someone might stop and ask you who she she is. Share her story. The fact that you run for a perfect stranger might touch them in a way that will bring some light to the world. It's possible someone else will be wearing the same bib. A common connection bringing strangers together. In the wake of such sad tragedy, it's up to us remaining to bring on the light.
On Saturday, my training group reaches a harrowing 7 miles. Further than I've ever gone before. While I'm scared, I also know I can do what I can do. My potential is what comes out here. One day I won't be able to do any of it. Saturday is not that day. Saturday, I run for you Sherry.
Monday, February 4, 2013
The Dark Side of Running-The Post I Hate.
I hate this post already. It's a subject that I don't want to post on, that I don't want to acknowledge, that I don't want to need. At all. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.
Safety and Running.
Days before I started my first 'running school' back in January 2012, I read a post of fellow blogger "Shut Up And Run" that pretty much changed everything for me. It made me sick, it made me scared, it made me not want to run, it made me hate the world a little. The bloggers cousin, Sherry Arnold disappeared while on her morning run. In a tiny little rural town of Sydney, Montana, the world of runners was cracked open as one of their own was gone. Never to be seen alive again, the story of Sherry spread like wildfire.
I do not know the blogger, I do not know Sherry, or her family, friends, students. I've never been to Montana, nor at the time this happened was I much of a runner. But it struck me to the core. How many times had I been out and about on a walk, a run alone, music blaring, at dusk, before sunrise, even with strangers and oddities starting me in the face. Yes, of course everyone is always thinking 'it could have been me'. That's what we do.
A year has gone by. In that time, I've learned how to properly run. Form, breathing, pace, hydration, nutrition, cadence...the information I've learned is enormous. The things I've accomplished even more so. Three 5k's, 1 10K, a Progressive marathon and a half marathon relay, I've recently signed up for a Half Marathon and a Triathlon. Every step of the way, I've had safety on my mind first and foremost. I no longer run alone in my neighborhood. I no longer run alone when I can help it at all. Putting a strain on my training, yes, it does. My group of runner buds doesn't share the knowledge of what I've learned, and if they do, they likely don't seem to take it as 'personally' as I appear to. But I'll admit, I'm just scared.
The problem is, no matter how safe we think we are, were not. In the world lately it seems that everyone has gone crazy, gun happy, is anyone really safe? It's a hard call.
The tips of running safety are fairly basic.
- If you can do not run alone.
- If you do run alone, stay in a well lit, well populated area.
- Run with mace, pepper spray, stun gun or a dog.
-Make sure someone always knows your route and the approximate time you will be starting/stopping.
- Carry a phone with you at all times.
- If you must run at night, use a headlamp, flashlights, reflective clothing, shoes
- Avoid areas of dense bushes, trees if you can
- Alter your route, don't take the same route everyday.
- Don't run with loud music in both ears!
- Take a self defense class
I'm sure there are more...but depending on your own running area, practice, and style you should alter the safety practices to what your individual needs are.
Of course the safest way to get your mileage in? The treadmill inside. I keep telling myself one of these days I'm going to start training on the treadmill. But I hate it. That's a whole 'nother Oprah.
For now...stay safe. Don't ever take your good neighborhood, daylight hours,or kind neighbors for granted. You just never ever know.
Safety and Running.
Days before I started my first 'running school' back in January 2012, I read a post of fellow blogger "Shut Up And Run" that pretty much changed everything for me. It made me sick, it made me scared, it made me not want to run, it made me hate the world a little. The bloggers cousin, Sherry Arnold disappeared while on her morning run. In a tiny little rural town of Sydney, Montana, the world of runners was cracked open as one of their own was gone. Never to be seen alive again, the story of Sherry spread like wildfire.
I do not know the blogger, I do not know Sherry, or her family, friends, students. I've never been to Montana, nor at the time this happened was I much of a runner. But it struck me to the core. How many times had I been out and about on a walk, a run alone, music blaring, at dusk, before sunrise, even with strangers and oddities starting me in the face. Yes, of course everyone is always thinking 'it could have been me'. That's what we do.
A year has gone by. In that time, I've learned how to properly run. Form, breathing, pace, hydration, nutrition, cadence...the information I've learned is enormous. The things I've accomplished even more so. Three 5k's, 1 10K, a Progressive marathon and a half marathon relay, I've recently signed up for a Half Marathon and a Triathlon. Every step of the way, I've had safety on my mind first and foremost. I no longer run alone in my neighborhood. I no longer run alone when I can help it at all. Putting a strain on my training, yes, it does. My group of runner buds doesn't share the knowledge of what I've learned, and if they do, they likely don't seem to take it as 'personally' as I appear to. But I'll admit, I'm just scared.
The problem is, no matter how safe we think we are, were not. In the world lately it seems that everyone has gone crazy, gun happy, is anyone really safe? It's a hard call.
The tips of running safety are fairly basic.
- If you can do not run alone.
- If you do run alone, stay in a well lit, well populated area.
- Run with mace, pepper spray, stun gun or a dog.
-Make sure someone always knows your route and the approximate time you will be starting/stopping.
- Carry a phone with you at all times.
- If you must run at night, use a headlamp, flashlights, reflective clothing, shoes
- Avoid areas of dense bushes, trees if you can
- Alter your route, don't take the same route everyday.
- Don't run with loud music in both ears!
- Take a self defense class
I'm sure there are more...but depending on your own running area, practice, and style you should alter the safety practices to what your individual needs are.
Of course the safest way to get your mileage in? The treadmill inside. I keep telling myself one of these days I'm going to start training on the treadmill. But I hate it. That's a whole 'nother Oprah.
For now...stay safe. Don't ever take your good neighborhood, daylight hours,or kind neighbors for granted. You just never ever know.
Monday, January 28, 2013
I Got This...I Think.
On January 19, 2013 I started the Shamrock'n Half Marathon training.
Oh. My. God.
Ive been involved the learning-to-run program for a year now, so I am familiar with the program, I know quite a few people and coaches.
This is a whole new ballpark.
First day, I was astounded, literally astounded at how many people showed up. In the groups I'm used to the big groups are about 60 participants. While I don't know exactly how many I'd gauge that there are well over 100 people in this group. Maybe even 150+. So intimidation factor #1, the sheer size of the group.
Intimidation factor #2, is naturally the early morning cold. First Saturday, I noticed the pavement while doing some warm ups had a thin layer of ice on it. Fabulous! There's a sure fire way to slip and fall right on my ass. The cold was pretty severe and while y'all know I prefer the cold to the hot, this was tough. Wearing Capri workout pants instead of my usual shorts, gloves and a hat, I was still numb with cold. Yikes!
Intimidation factor #3, the others. Yes, I know I know...don't compare yourself to others. I fear this concept will take me years to master. It's pretty obvious there are quite a few really experienced runners in this group. I'm grateful that it's broken up into 4 groups depending on level. But still....damn, I feel like I'm beginning all over again. Frustrating, but eh, whatever. Too late to back out now. I'll do what I do...purge forward with reckless drive and just do it.
Intimidation factor #4, the fact that I took a rather long break between Thanksgiving and New Years is haunting me. While speaking to another participant, she mentioned she too took a long break of about 3 months. " Well, I was in a car accident...." yeah, I wanted to stop listening here, but I didn't.
" My back was really out of whack with injuries, sooo" Yeah, I can relate...not. Yeah I got nothing here. I was lazy & tired. That's about it.
But that being said, yesterday was our longest thus far, 4 miles. I did it. The beginning was brutal, as it always is, but after the 1.5 mile warm up, it got easier and easier. So I'm actually looking forward to the longer mileage as I know I'm a slow, slow starter, but then I can kick it up.
So there it is...all the reasons I'm intimidated as hell over this training. But as I've already registered for the Half Marathon, I've got no choices now. I'm purging forward. It's things like this that give me courage, give me confidence, to over come it all means I'm stronger than I thought.
Oh. My. God.
Ive been involved the learning-to-run program for a year now, so I am familiar with the program, I know quite a few people and coaches.
This is a whole new ballpark.
First day, I was astounded, literally astounded at how many people showed up. In the groups I'm used to the big groups are about 60 participants. While I don't know exactly how many I'd gauge that there are well over 100 people in this group. Maybe even 150+. So intimidation factor #1, the sheer size of the group.
Intimidation factor #2, is naturally the early morning cold. First Saturday, I noticed the pavement while doing some warm ups had a thin layer of ice on it. Fabulous! There's a sure fire way to slip and fall right on my ass. The cold was pretty severe and while y'all know I prefer the cold to the hot, this was tough. Wearing Capri workout pants instead of my usual shorts, gloves and a hat, I was still numb with cold. Yikes!
Intimidation factor #3, the others. Yes, I know I know...don't compare yourself to others. I fear this concept will take me years to master. It's pretty obvious there are quite a few really experienced runners in this group. I'm grateful that it's broken up into 4 groups depending on level. But still....damn, I feel like I'm beginning all over again. Frustrating, but eh, whatever. Too late to back out now. I'll do what I do...purge forward with reckless drive and just do it.
Intimidation factor #4, the fact that I took a rather long break between Thanksgiving and New Years is haunting me. While speaking to another participant, she mentioned she too took a long break of about 3 months. " Well, I was in a car accident...." yeah, I wanted to stop listening here, but I didn't.
" My back was really out of whack with injuries, sooo" Yeah, I can relate...not. Yeah I got nothing here. I was lazy & tired. That's about it.
But that being said, yesterday was our longest thus far, 4 miles. I did it. The beginning was brutal, as it always is, but after the 1.5 mile warm up, it got easier and easier. So I'm actually looking forward to the longer mileage as I know I'm a slow, slow starter, but then I can kick it up.
So there it is...all the reasons I'm intimidated as hell over this training. But as I've already registered for the Half Marathon, I've got no choices now. I'm purging forward. It's things like this that give me courage, give me confidence, to over come it all means I'm stronger than I thought.
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