Tag Archives: rest

Chicago, the rest of it.

It was a whirlwind trip to Chicago, and before we were even halfway through it—I told BF that I wished we had an extra day.

I don’t know if it’s that I didn’t know enough about Chicago, or I was simply distracted by the whole marathon thing, but I truly underestimated the magnitude of this city.

Hello Chicago!

It is HUGE. Next to New York, I don’t think I’ve ever been so amazed by the size of a city. The juxtaposition with the crystal blue Lake Michigan was such a sight to be seen as well, and I fell pretty hard for this city. (I know, I know…the city-by-the-water thing shouldn’t get me so giddy any more, but I still can’t get enough.)

unrelated Friday night airport bar photo..

We arrived LATE Friday night, and after a little sleeping in, a 2.5 mile treadmill run, and a trip to the complimentary breakfast, we were off on the Blue line of the “L” headed toward downtown.

Ever since I studied abroad in Europe, I have a very deep affection for efficient and accessible public transportation—and Chicago was definitely not lacking in this regard. It was so easy to navigate our way around, and I can imagine you wouldn’t even need a car if you lived in the city.

Once in the city, we dropped our bags off at a friend’s apartment, and we jetted to the expo. I’m not going to do this expo justice in words or photos, but just take my word for it when I say that it was enormous. They held it in the convention center, and they used up every last space available. Hundreds (yes, hundreds) of booths were set amongst the packet pick-up areas, and you definitely needed a map to quickly find anything.

Other than a few samples we grabbed along the way, there were only two booths I wanted to visit: Runner’s World and Girls on the Run. And look who I found at the RW booth…

Hal Higdon! This meant so very little to most people I tell, but most runners I know have at least heard this guy’s name. He was much friendlier than he appears in the photo as well.

They also had food everywhere, music, shoe testing, etc. It was a party. Although it would have been fun to hang out more, I wasn’t really in the business of staying on my feet for too long—plus we had more of Chicago to see!

With not a ton of time left between the expo and dinner, we decided to head up the Hancock Center. The building has 94 floors, and unlike the Sears tower—it’s free! The views at the top were unreal, and it helped us get a sense of just how huge Chicago really is.

View from floor 94.

Looking out at Lake Michigan.

As I said in the last post, BF made me dinner as opposed to going out. It was simpler, cheaper, and given the amount of carb-hungry runners flooding Chicago restaurants that night—I’m glad we avoided the crowds.

On Sunday, I decided to jog around the city to explore a bit. After 26.2 miles, I figured I ought to include BF in all my sight-seeing, and we went to the infamous Chicago Cloud Gate. I actually knew it was “the bean thing,” but I guess that’s not accurate.

This was the only tourist attraction I actually knew about before coming to Chicago, and I have to say it was pretty dang cool. I was also riding a marathon high and chowing on donut holes, so that helped with the “omg so impressive!” factor.

Where’s Waldo (RB/BF)?

Reflection photo! I told BF he wore the least obvious marathon spectating outfit in the word. He agreed. He also didn’t take up my offer of an enormous pink shirt. Rude.

BF told me I smelled, so I decided to shower before we ventured out to see more things. We had a bit of a time crunch before we had to get back on the train to head to the airport, so we narrowed our exploration down to two things: the Navy Pier and pizza. I really wanted to go on the architectural boat tour, but there wasn’t time—and admittedly I cared more about cheese and crust than pretty buildings.

The Navy Pier was definitely cool, and I loved being close to the lake and seeing all the different boats. Because the pier juts out so far into the lake, we were able to see a lot of the skyline.

Stop your showing off Chicago, you’re making everywhere else look bad.

Now comes to only disappointment from the trip…

So, we had just enough time to get to our chosen deep dish joint, eat, go back and get our things, and head to the airport. As we sat down at the restaurant (Ginos East of Chicago), and we ordered our delicious deep dish selection…our waitress informed us that the deep dish took SEVENTY-FIVE minutes to make, so we might want an appetizer. We didn’t have 75 minutes, and so we mournfully opted for the regular thin crust instead.

boring

I realize to a normal human this is a very first world problem…but for two people who were intent on Chicago pizza (one of whom just ran a marathon), this was equivalent to a small pet dying. Sure, thin crust was fine…but this was definitely a disappointment. Don’t worry, I still ate more than half.

Delicious 312 beer helped *a little*.

However, the good thing about missing things while visiting a popular destination is that it gives you a reason to go back. Chicago is definitely a city I’d love to see more of, and I’m very keen on visiting again.

By the time we got to the airport and were waiting for our flight…I was beyond spent. Two nights of little sleep in a row, plus a marathon, plus lots of travelling= a very, very sleepy bird. I can’t sleep on planes too well either, so needless to say after a FOUR hour plane flight home, I was ready for some horizontal time.

Note to self: when travelling for a marathon, don’t be a hero and take the next day off work.

The travel exhaustion, however, was insignificant compared to how great the rest of the trip was.

You put on a good show Windy City, thanks for being awesome.

In a non-related but kind-of-related sidenote, I am almost pain and soreness free today from the race on Sunday. It’s kind of a miracle, and I credit it to all the walking necessary afterward. That—and all the rest I allowed/am allowing myself before and after the marathon. I also have zero blisters, very little chafing, and all my toenails in tact. Little victories…I accept them all.

However, the combination of little sleep and the marathon has resulted in a fairly heavy cold I’m currently sporting. But, I’ll take a sore throat and headache if it means I get a race like Sunday’s any day. Does that make sense? I’m sick, don’t judge.

I might try running today, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week…who knows. Right now, I’m soaking in some bonafied laziness right now. On Monday, instead of a “shake out swim” or “shake out walk” I decided a “shake out grilled cheese and chocolate” was a much better idea. That theme continues through today…and I could care less.

Have you been to Chicago? What did you love most about it? Would you have been as sad about the pizza as we were? Do you think I overreacted? Mom, you don’t get to answer the last question…

Get Comfortable

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I can’t even begin to describe how nice it feels to write a bit about running right now. For the past few days I’ve been grinding on documents nonstop at work, and I’ve barely had time to use the bathroom let alone do any blogging updates.

Alas, a break in the day has presented itself.

Hello!

On Tuesday, I completely contradicted my current training M.O. and decided to spice up my normal “Ten-Mile Tuesday” run.

{I love Ten-Mile Tuesday, and it’s been one of my favorite workouts for almost a year—even when I’m not marathon training. It’s always in the morning, it’s always moderately paced, just lovely}

When I set off for this jaunt, I had it in my head that I would go slow-ish. I had 8:30s or so in mind, and I knew I wanted to be comfortable. It took about 3 miles or so to really get a steady pace (doesn’t it always?) but once I was cooking I realized that I was hovering below the 8 minute/mile mark, and it wasn’t too awful. However, I knew that I’d be feeling it toward the end of the run—and since this wasn’t about speed I knew it was smarter to stay at a comfortable pace.

But then I kinda starting talking back to myself. I was realizing that recently, this pacing is my comfortable pace. I’ve been feeling lighter and more efficient during my quicker runs, and the only thing that makes me shy away from committing to increasing my average speed overall is my fear of getting uncomfortable. The only discomfort, however, comes when I see watch, and I freak out and slow down—only to feel a little less natural and wary.

So yesterday, instead of constantly telling myself to reel it in, I started a new mantra—which I repeated over and over again.

“Get comfortable.”

You see, I definitely have a running comfort zone, as I’m sure many of us do. For a long time, it was 9 minute miles. It was a pace I knew that I could hold for a long time, and it was the pace that I used constantly throughout my first marathon training cycle. Once I got to race day, I was so confident in my 9 min/mile abilities, I knew that I’d be fine at 8:50s.

Since that time, I’ve gotten a bit faster and my comfort zone is now around an 8:30/mile pace. There was a point in time it was lower (before my horrid bursitis kicked in earlier this year), and I’m starting to feel like it might be time to hold myself to a higher standard. If my watch is the only thing that’s scaring me away from a faster average pace, what’s the harm in trying one on for size?

Which is why on Tuesday, I decided to forego my current relaxed training plan and focus on maintaining a certain, faster speed over those miles. I settled on 8:05, and instead of trying to go faster and slower, I was preaching to myself to simply “get comfortable” right there. I know my comfort zone well enough to know when I’m either behind or ahead of it, but in this case—I was simply trying to trick myself to get into that comfort zone.

And how did I bode? I felt great, and I felt that aside from the placebo exhaustion effect of seeing speedier times on my Garmin, I was—in fact—comfortable with that speed.

Which makes me wonder— where is the line between our physical capabilities and our perceived capabilities? When I talked about that 9:00/mile comfort zone that I’d settled in for so long, was that really my running happy place, or was I simply settling for what I knew I could do?

Although there’s a definite mental prowess to runners that many lack, I’m realizing that it’s just as easy to fall into a running rut as it is anything else. We get in a safe zone. Which is fine, truly, because goodness knows it’s better to be running safely than not running at all.

But, there’s also something to be said for removing our self-created limits. Of course, we don’t want to be reckless and haphazard about it (hello, injuries and burnout), but sometimes it’s good to question if there’s a little bit more we’re not allowing ourselves to take on.

For me, this was decreasing the average length of my weekly runs, and increasing speed over shorter distances. I knew that I could knock out a long run at a moderate pace, which is why I settled in a routine of a 10 mile, 12 mile, and one long(er) run on the weekends. This was my routine for as long as I can remember—all the runs were at the same speed, and I’m realizing now they were all a bit mediocre. But after my knee blew up, I flailed in Tacoma, and I was sidelined with IT band woes, I knew that something needed to change.

I still wanted to run, and I still wanted to race, but I needed to reclaim control over my running and get back to the magic of the sport.

By introducing myself to the things I had so often shied away from—speed work, shorter mileage but faster times, and additional hills—I have a newfound confidence in not only my running but in the sport itself. It’s wonderful to see that something so simple as running can be approached so many different ways. And the best part? There isn’t only one right way.

I think what I’m most pleased with is that I feel that I’m slowly but surely finding a way to run that works for me. Through this Chicago training “program” I’ve been following, I’ve been getting faster, I’m recovering quicker, and my IT band injury has evaporated. I credit this to a few things, but primarily to the big alterations I’ve made to my running. The shoes, the speed, the rest—they’ve all been things I’ve changed in order to better my running, and at least for now…they seem to be working.

So I’m going to continue my less-strict approach to training. But I’m also going to continue to allow myself to “get comfortable” with the times, distances, and workouts that I almost always deem uncomfortable. This doesn’t mean it won’t hurt, or even suck, sometimes—but it means that I’m not going to be afraid of pushing away from “security blanket” workouts and try getting a little creative.

What’s your running comfortable space? A certain distance? A certain speed? A certain workout? How do you think you can try and test yourself?

This Time Around…

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Warning:

This post is going to be all about running.

But that’s not too off-beat, I suppose.

Running!

This is what a stupid runner’s high-enduced smile looks like

I have been stupidly excited about my runs recently. Like, smile plastered on my face, greeting every person/biker/car/rollerblader I see going by with a toothy grin and an in-your-face “GOOD MORNING!”

Here’s an example about how this elation has taken over my better senses: Tuesday, I finished a 10.3 mile run feeling on top of the world, both literally and figuratively. I had just climbed the super steep hill up to my house, and I felt super confident about my overall speed. Also, my IT band/knee was completely unnoticeable, which took my runner’s high to a recovered runner’s high—a whole new degree of giddy. THEN, later as I was driving back down said hill I’d just climbed, I saw a fellow runner girl grinding back up, and you know what my thought was? “I wish that was ME doing that right now! Jealous!”

Seriously, someone cage me.

But overall, I think these euphoric (bordering on obnoxious…I know, you can say it) feelings are stemming from two things:

1) My return from injury

2) My new-and-improved approach to marathon training

Obvs returning from injury (and please knock on every wooden item near you right now) is great reason to dig your runs. You have such a heightened appreciation for running after being away from it for so long. Relatively speaking, I wasn’t away too long, but I think any unplanned time away from running can totally revamp your love for it. I always love running, but there’s something so renewing about it when you come back from injury.

I know I haven’t discussed much about my new training mentality, partly because it wasn’t complete, but I love what it’s been doing for both my physical and mental strength.

So what, pray tell, is this new approach?

Very simple: Take myself less seriously, try new things, and be flexible.

These things are working together quite well so far, and I think they’ve done wonders for my training.

I’m having more fun, I’m looking forward to workouts more, and I’m less stressed out about the whole shebang.

So what are the steps I’ve been taking to ensure that my new approach works correctly?

Well, to begin, I think that the biggest thing I’m working on is very intentionally caring less. This sounds counterintuitive, because…um, hello, doesn’t marathon training take a butt ton of self motivation?

Yes, but hear me out.

As I realized after the Tacoma Marathon, the physical training—meaning the daily workouts, the mileage buildup, and the general grind of it all—isn’t the hard part for me. By nature, I enjoy the physical challenge, and my brain is programmed to go!go!go! all the time in terms of pushing harder and getting stronger. I realize that this can be a benefit, particularly for someone who runs marathons, however it can absolutely be taken to a destructive level. Take the TCM for example, or the fact that to this day I have to force myself to be okay with taking days off.

No hard feelings, Tacoma. Kidding! There still are. I hate you. Oh, it was all my own fault? FINE. I still hate your hills though.

So, I needed a new mentality. And that entailed letting myself off the hook and focusing more on the day-to-day victories. I realize this may only make sense in my own head, but essentially what I’ve done is I’ve taken the pressure off of performing at an unreasonable standard. I still want to run fast, and I still want to run many miles, but those numbers aren’t the reason I love this sport. What I love more than anything is to just run—fast, slow, long, short, outside, inside (okay…that’s pushing it), alone, and with others. So although I am training with number and mile goals in mind, they aren’t my primary concern.

With that said, I am also trying to get myself out of my normal exercise comfort zones. Sure, I can muster up the energy for an easy run or a gym workout—but within my own agenda. Ask me to go to a class I’ve never been to before or try a crazy lifting move I’ve never seen—fogetta about it!

However, I am a big believer that it is outside of our comfort zones where we find excitement, challenge, and—ultimately—improvement. So I committed myself to trying new things, yes in hopes of building my physical strength, but more so in hopes of shaking up my routine.

And I’ve found that you never quite know what you like until you venture into the unknown. I have absolutely loved trying new things (weights classes, different running workouts (tempo!!), new yoga poses) and I think the best part is that they make me excited for each daily workout. Instead of just being a means to an end (the end being Chicago in this case), I’m taking pride in my day-to-day sweat sessions and enjoying the smaller victories they present.

In addition to trying new things, like lunges, squats, and mountain climbers (I want to go on record saying I HATE THESE), I’m also getting very cozy with my rest days. They are scheduled into my training, and I’m taking comfort in them instead of letting them make me anxious. I’m realizing that if you are training at a hard enough level, you should want your rest days instead of fear them. I think before, when I was avoiding any rest at all, it’s because I was operating on an at-threshold activity level just for the sake of not wearing myself out. I wouldn’t push myself too hard for the sake of not needing a rest day.

DUMB

I’d much rather work hard, recharge, and stay healthy. Plus, now that I need to wake up a 4:45, days off are like a beacon of light every week.

Resting must involve rehydrating with a tropical beverage.

I know you’re probably getting bored (that’s presuming you’re still reading…and if so, hi!) so I’ll be brief in finishing up my last approach to marathon training.

Be flexible…that’s the motto I keep telling myself.

Flexible, yes, in the sense of stretching and yoga (jk I haven’t been in two weeks). But more so in being okay with the fact that life is going to get in the way of marathon training. And I’m letting it—because when marathon training starts to take over all other joys in life, such as an extra beer or three the night before a long run, a weekend visit to see your friends, or a lazy Sunday, it starts to drain us.

Running is a huge part of my life, but it’s not all of it. I like to use running to enhance the other great things in life, not take away from them. This means that my training schedule is amendable, and I’m not freaking out over hitting every target workout every day of the week.

A perfect example would be this upcoming weekend. BF and I are going down to my Summerhouse to play with my family…meaning LR plans needed to be altered. Ordinarily, this would stress me out. But instead, I rearranged, I front loaded the weekend with some extra miles this week, and I’m allowing myself to be excited about everything else I’ll get to do.

I’ll probably run there, but I feel a lot less pressure to break X number of miles with so many other wonderful things to occupy my time with.

So there it is: Robyn’s New Approach to Marathon Training. I am sure someday I’ll be gunning for a specific time goal, BQ, etc. But for this training cycle, I’m more interested in enjoying the running, fundraising for Girls on the Run, and getting excited to run in one of the biggest races in the world.

Based on my current mood and euphoria about anything involving Body Glide or Brooks, I’d say my new technique is working.

What do you think is the best way to approach marathon training? Relaxed? Goal-Oriented? Nutella in one hand and Nuun cocktail in the other?

Embracing the Lazy

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G’Day ya’ll.

Wow, two lingos I never use all in one greeting.

Call it an off day, I don’t know. Except it’s not an off day—today’s very on! Complete with a 10 mile (!!!) run, oatmeal, and too much coffee. It doesn’t take much to make this bird a happy camper.

I’d like to talk today about being lazy. Interesting, I know, with this being a running blog and all…but stick with me. You see, I am someone who really has a hard time being lazy. I don’t like rest days, I like bulking my schedule up with things to do, and I generally get hard on myself when I’m somewhat less than productive.

Call it Type A, call it crazy, whatever—I actually think many runners are the same way.

However, I’m starting to realize that there is a big difference between the runner definition of laziness and actual laziness. You see, as runners—we tend to get down on ourselves for every day off and every workout that feels lackluster. It’s in our nature, because for better or for worse, we expect ourselves to perform with a certain caliber. This is part of the reason runners end up burned out and injured (yours truly included). And all for the sake of not feeling lazy or less-than-perfect or whatever other super logical reason we come up with to feel at the top of our game.

Recently, I’ve been learning to embrace my off days—and in fact, I’ve been looking forward to them. I know to some of you, this might sound really ridiculous, because duh—who doesn’t like a day off from exercise? But honestly, it took me a while to get to this point…but slowly but surely, I’m accepting that rest is equally as important in a training regimen as the actual training itself.

So, as someone who’s just now getting used to the off days and the designated rest—how do I differentiate between runner laziness and actual laziness? Because despite my preference for hard workouts and miles—goodness knows I can rock the couch and seasons of shows on Netflix like it’s my job. Which can definitely be a good thing, but it can also be just regular ole sloth like behavior.

Take yesterday. I was planning on swimming after the work day—but as the end of the day drew nearer, I was feeling less and less inclined to go. Ordinarily, I would decide that this meant it was time for a rest day (because that’s normally what it means), but I had one last Friday. No, after some scrutiny, I realized that my distaste for going was due more so to my aversion to getting wet and the call of the unopened, neglected jar of PB sitting in my fridge.

The reason I didn’t want to go was just good old fashioned laziness, and I kind of loved it. I liked the feeling of just not wanting to workout, it felt normal, and I thought it was a good indication of my ability to embrace how necessary rest really is for athletes.

That might sound twisted, and it might not completely make sense, but it really made me glad to feel my reigns loosening a bit. Because if there’s anything I’ve learned from how strict I’ve been in the past, and events such as the Tacoma Marathon, it’s that taking this whole running thing so seriously is the surest way to take the fun out of it.

I’m realizing that being lazy doesn’t make me, or anyone, less of a runner—and it’s runners who should probably learn to embrace laziness more than anyone else. Sure, you should probably not derail too heavily from your marathon training program during peak weeks, but if you miss a speed workout because you’d rather watch Friends reruns and spoon feed yourself Nutella, then it’s okay.

I know, I know…easier said than done. And I’m still figuring it all out myself, but I think I’m finally coming to a happy place in my approach to running. I’m going to embrace that lazy is acceptable, even encouraged, from time to time—and in that regard, taking running less seriously may just be the best way to get the absolute most out of it.

Can you embrace laziness? Have you had to differentiate between regular laziness and “runner laziness”? Can you watch 5 episodes of Gossip Girl in a row as joyfully as I can? I’ll answer that last one—no one can.

Run Love

Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde: Injured Runner Brain Dichotomy

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If you were sitting around on Saturday wondering why you all of a sudden you felt void of any stress or unhappiness, it’s because I had taken EVERY NEGATIVE FEELING IN THE WORLD and conglomerated it all into my own personal pity party. Yep, all my Friday positivity decided to completely dissipate come Saturday morning, and it took essentially all day to work myself out of my I-hate-everything-and-everyone funk.

Also, if I really could take away all your sadness, that would be very neat and I’m sorry I have not yet figured out how to steal away bad feelings.

It took until late Saturday night (imbibed with Footloose musical fever, tequila, and sleepovers with friends) til my grumpy self got over herself and I returned to a more stable, level-headed place.

Oh wait no, that’s never happened—stable and calm are not exactly my “strengths,” so let’s just say I returned to a happier, I-actually-don’t-want-to-throw-rocks-at-people state of mind.

Why the freak out, you ask?

Well, there are two things that send me into panic mode: picking the wrong dessert and not being able to undo it, and not being able to run. Since I had a fantastic helping of strawberry shortcake Friday night (read: a bowl of whipped cream sprinkled with bits of cake and some strawberries), I bet you can guess why I was pissed.

I want to run, I cannot run, seemingly everyone in the world is running, and I was/am sad.

I got all down and out on Saturday because all I was hearing about were PRs, registrations, long runs, carb loads, etc. and it all felt very far away. Truthfully, I’ve been out of the running game for just over two weeks, but in a runner’s brain that is approximately equivalent to forever. Every day without running counts for about three weeks of real time, and it feels like the further away I get from it, the less accessible it seems.

There is a big, gaping, holy-hell don’t fall in that hole difference between what I know and what I think. My knowing self is rational, practical, and reasonable. She’s the part of me that graduated from college, that listens to my mom, and that decides, “Okay, you probably don’t need dessert number 3 of the night.”

Then there’s my thinking self. The self that spirals herself into a state of senseless panic over absolutely irrational thoughts. She is the over-reactor, the freak-out mode professional, and the reason behind a lot of my less-than-finer moments. Sorry BF for reminding you about all those.

Okay, my “thinking,” of-the-moment self isn’t always such a whiny little bitch, and there are certainly redeeming parts to her, however she tends to get in trouble when her spasms overrule her knowing counterpart.

Case in point: I know I will be fine. I know this isn’t *too* serious. I know I ran a marathon faster than my training and no-shit-sherlock I’m probably still feeling those effects. I know that I can maintain my fitness without running. I know that I will race again before long. I know that Chipotle is the best food ever.

Commence Saturday’s “thinking” routine: I think I won’t run all summer. I think everyone else is going to have fun and run fast and improve while I disintegrate into a running-less glob of rage. I think I’m going to have to start over from scratch when I can run again. I think I will never stop being injured. I think everyone loves their life while I have to be sad all the time.

STOP ME NOW. And eventually I did. Shut the eff up Robyn…that’s what my knowing self eventually came and said, while she fed me lemonadey cocktails and hit me over the head with my running shoe.

Fact: No I can’t run right now.

Fact: I will run again.

Fact: Things could be a lot worse, and I need to eat my own words.

Seriously, one of the things I like about blogging is that it keeps us accountable. Despite the fact that I kind of hate the power of the internet, it is pretty impactful to go to your own website and see the words that you’ve so ardently preached. It’s a really good kind of humbling, and it keeps my in check with my rational self when my crazy lady takes over.

So I can’t run for now. I still have all my limbs, a roof over my head, a very wonderful male friend who lives with me, and a lot of other good things going on. Yes I’m sad I can’t take off on a long run, or even a mile-long run, without fear of IT pain. But hopefully maintaining a more sensible outlook and a relative perspective will keep the storm calm.

I apologize for revealing the whiny pity-party that I went through on Saturday. Afterward I felt silly and I actually a little embarrassed. However, I think it’s an important message for runners to remember, as I am always and endlessly reminding myself of it:

Running is important. It’s part of who we are, and we love when we get to do it. However even when we aren’t doing it—we’re still runners. Being injured is a part of being a runner, the two go hand-in-hand. I know I still think of running friends and bloggers that are injured as runners, and there’s no reason I should count myself out of the game due to a temporary decrease in mileage.

The hardest part is keeping this lesson in the front of our minds. Even as I was typing all that out, I could hear the small voice in my brain aching to be out running, and crying over the fact that I was not.

Those voices don’t need to be shut out, in fact they should be listened to, but they shouldn’t overwhelm us. All the sad non-running thoughts exist because it’s something that we love—and, frankly, because you always want what you can’t have.

But you know what? Bodies heal. And the best part about running? It’s going to be right there waiting whenever that healing is complete. Races are always going to be happening, training is always going to be readily available, and all the running routes in the world aren’t all of a sudden going to get up and skip away before you get a chance to trot them again.

So what am I trying to say here? Well, honestly, most of this writing was for myself. I hadn’t really planned on this post going in this direction, which I think is a sign that I needed to do some therapeutic reflection. And I do feel better. I’m still confident that the longevity of this lingering pain is getting shorter and shorter, and in the mean time I’ll be planning my future race endeavors (info on that soon!) and staying off my Twitter feed on weekend mornings.

In fact, I think I should do that no matter what my current state of physical health may be. The internet is great, hello stress-relieving-blog-posting and meeting sweet people , but there’s also a black hole effect to it. Stepping back, living real life, and letting all the ramblings of the world sit for a while is always a healthy practice.

And just so you know, I actually do love hearing about everyone’s PRs and goals and such. I was just a negative nancy for a while in there, and please don’t be afraid to tell me about your running-filled fun.

Thanks for reading about my two-faced mindset on being injured. I know I’m not alone in this type of back-and-forth ness between being okay with not running and hating every single person with fully functioning legs. It’s the nature of the running bug beast—that little devil.

Now tell me, if you feel so inspired, what was the best thing you gained from a time when you could not run? Dare I say—how did being injured make you thankful?

Friday Lessons, Mustaches, and Pandas

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It’s Friday already? I mean, awesome, but this week has flown by—which is odd, because I feel like I’ve been moving at a sloth-like pace through it.

Anyways, welcome to the end of the week!

Here is a picture of an adorable panda to get us off on the right foot:

PANDA DON’T BE SO SAD! HOW ARE YOU GOING TO GET DOWN!?! I WILL HELP YOU! I LOVE YOU!

It has been too long since I included some cuteness in my posts. The shame!

I know I always do Friday Favorites, and I know I’ve been skipping out on it recently in favor of being thankful and talking about existential running jargon, and I PROMISE I’ll start faves again soon….but not this week. Sorry, I know you’re day is probably ruined.

I just have too many other things to say! And since I have limited blogging time availabile…I need to squeeze things in when I can.

So, we all know by now that my race on Sunday went differently than I anticipated. (And if you don’t know, check it out here, because I know your curiosity must be ON FIRE right now). Can you tell I’m caffeinated? I am.

Anyways, there has been a lot of post-race reflecting, pondering, and Nutella consumption going on around these parts, and while I am not ready to dismiss the seriousness of what happened by any means, I am literally unable to not try and find the silver lining and move forward. Eternal optimist—I can’t help it, and I am a big believer that all experience is good experience, even when that experience involves the inability for the nerves in my brain to signal my legs to move.

With that said, I’d like to share with you some of the things I’ve learned from this whole ordeal. Truly, the big lessons will probably take a little while to fully emancipate, however I do feel like I’m squeezing all of the personal-growth juice I can from all this.

Ew, sorry, “juice” should not be used to describe anything other than something that comes from a fruit.

You get it though.

So…let’s get a move on. Here are some things I’ve learned, both big and small, through the race that quite literally swept me off my feet (and not in a Ryan Gosling dream sequence kind of way).

-I have “awesome” veins.

After I was removed from the ice bath and my temperature was going down, the nurses/doctors were helping to stop my muscle cramping by using a lot of compression on all my limbs. One of the women behind me was all, “Wow, you have awesome veins!” and although this could mean a) I am easy to stick with a needle b)she was being nice about the spider veins all over my body or c)both, at the time I took it as a compliment.

I might have “awesome veins,” but the lady doc doesn’t really have “awesome IV sticking abilities.” I also have “awesome bruising skills.”

– The pacer stick is not very heavy at all.

One of the things I have always been SUPER impressed by in terms of the people who pace a race (besides the fact, obviously, that they are guaranteeing a certain finish time over 26 or 13 miles) is that they are CARRYING something while running. I can barely handle carrying a handheld water bottle, and I get stressed thinking about carrying anything more than a few gels and my own body weight. You can imagine my horror, then, when the 3:40 pacer (mustache man, if you remember) asked me to hold the pace stick while he went pee in the woods.

Him: “Hey can you hold this for a bit?”

My Brain: “WTF WHO DO YOU THINK I AM I HAVE ONLY RUN ONE MARATHON I HATE YOU!”

Me: “Totally, no problem.”

Surprise! It’s really light, and actually very manageable to run with. And despite my momentary panic, I decided that his decision to offer ME the carrying stick actually translated into:

“You’re such a super star runner, Robyn. My mustache and I respect you and your flawless form and I have no doubt you could take over my pacer job. In fact, you should be a pacer yourself.”

That’s exactly what he thought, and despite the fact that his mind *might* have changed when he saw me being cradled like an infant by the Medical Director, I still think we have an everlasting bond through our 3 minutes of a pace-stick exchange.

BFF photo

– Knowing your target HR=helpful when running a marathon

I’ve said this before, but I don’t own a Garmin. I was always very happy with my little blue Timex, and I actually enjoyed the added freedom of not knowing exactly how far I had gone on a run or how fast I was going. I liked calculating these things afterward instead—meaning that while I can claim to be a “pure” runner while actually out on a run, I do still really care about distance and pace. Something I am not able to calculate too easily without an electronic device is my heart rate, and I believe this knowledge would have been a good indication of how over my limit I was on Sunday.

So, I’m giving in: For both my safety (and the fact that I really, really want one) I’m going to invest in a Garmin, finally. Having one doesn’t mean I need to wear it on every run I go on, however knowing my ideal HR on long runs will help me avoid the situation I got into.

In that regard…suggestions? I just want pace, distance, HR, and a light…for when it’s dark.

– Always have someone you know with you at a race

Certainly, everyone wants supporters to cheer them on at a race—it’s so motivating to know that you have friends, family, or pets out there on the course or finish line, gunning for you to run a stellar race. However, as I have discovered, it is almost equally if not more important to have people there for the bad things that can happen along with the good.

If you remember, I came *this* close to running the Eugene Marathon (and yes I am totally, 100% okay with the fact that I didn’t run the flat, fast course instead of Hill Town Tacompton, clearly). BUT had I run Eugene, I would have been there completely solo, as BF wouldn’t have been able to come, meaning that if something like this would have happened, I wouldn’t have had anyone I knew on the sidelines. No one to drive me home, no one to be there in the medical tent, and no one to report to my family that everything was okay.

When I was coming out of my overheated delirium, all I wanted was for BF to come and be with me, and I can’t imagine how much scarier that situation would have been without someone I knew present.

So sure, I definitely love having people there to cheer me on, but I know now just how important it is to have someone there for a worst-case scenario as well.

Thanks for coming see me “finish” a marathon Corey, you’re the best sister.

– There is such a thing as “marathon peeing”

YOU GUYS, this happened. I couldn’t believe it, and I’m still having a hard time thinking back to it all, but for reals—around mile 22, there I was…a self-sufficient, mature(ish) 24-year-old, peeing my pants on the run.

Now, if you haven’t heard of this before, please don’t click out of my blog out of disgust and shock—because truly, I had no idea I was capable of this. I knew that people did it…instead of stopping at the porta potties, they just straight peed their pants, but I always assumed this was people who had itty bitty bladders and were going for a world record. I NEVER have to pee when I run, but somehow my ample mid-race hydration caught up to me…and there it was.

I was in my cloudy “Make it stop” state when it happened, so it didn’t really register at the time, but when one of the doctors afterward asked me, “When was the last time you peed?” I started cracking up and said, “On the course!” which I thought was absolutely hilarious. At this point, I still had a 105 degree fever, which probably aided my light-headed humor, but now thinking back…it is hilarious, and clearly I have no shame.

Luckily, an ice bath quickly cleanses peed-in shorts, so wearing my shorts afterward wasn’t entirely unbearable.

SEXY. That’s why you date me BF, isn’t it? Cause I’m so “Not so fresh and not so clean clean.”

– After a marathon, your body declares full autonomy over you.

Yes, we should always listen to our bodies. And yes, I hardly practice what I preach in this regard, but when it comes to the week after a marathon, we hardly have a choice.

Every action I’ve been taking this week has been dictated by my body, and anything too difficult for it is quickly stopped in its tracks. I’m able to swim and spin no problem, and both are adding some really helpful blood flow…however running, not so much.

I felt good enough yesterday afternoon to (very slowly) try out my post-marathon legs. So while I said, “Yes! Let’s run!” my body quickly replied with “NOT!” in a very in-your-face Borat kind of way.

After about a quarter mile, my right knee/IT band/fibula/etc started getting really tight, and it was not having it. BF and I were “running” together at the time, and I had to tell him to go on ahead while I waited with a pissed off leg (Not to be confused with a “pissed on” leg, which I also know about…see above). Fortunately, he is a kind soul and quickly returned to walk back to our starting point with me, and I am going to wait a few more days until trying to run again.

I admit that I quickly panicked that I have some long-term injury that will disable me from running the entire summer (rationality is my strong suit), however I know that you cannot trust any post-marathon pains until the race wear and tear eventually works its way out. Truthfully, I think my muscles are just still really recovering, and my foremost goal right now is to listen my body above all else.

Sorry ladies, you’ll have to wait.

And with that said…

– It is okay to back off.

This is perhaps the biggest understanding I’ve reached so far in the reflection I’ve done over this race. I know it is definitely going to take a while to really internalize it, because it completely contradicts the way my brain works—but it’s something I know will make me a much smarter athlete and runner.

My problem during the race (and I suppose in my day-to-day life) is that I refuse to let myself back off from not trying my very hardest. For better or for worse, I hate thinking of myself as someone who doesn’t give their absolute best—because that’s the way I always like to operate. It’s the reason why I love always having a hard, satisfying workout, why I don’t like taking days off, and why I got myself into the circumstances leading up to my collapse on Sunday. I thrive on pushing myself, on knowing that I worked hard, and it’s the way I have and will probably always choose to operate on a daily basis.

Most of the time, this is a good thing. It’s good as a runner, an employee, and just for general productivity. However, as is always the case, it is possible for there to be too much of a good thing. Case in point, the Tacoma Marathon.

So, I suppose what I’m mostly realizing is that I don’t need to worry about my mental stamina. I think I’m always worried that I’ll slip in the average, lazy-person mindset of only half-assing things and searching for ways to not give me all. This fear is part of what drives me to always give my best, which is good, however I’m realizing that I’m not a person who will ever not be competitive, not be strong-willed, or not be anxious to do my best. In that regard, it will actually be more helpful for me to realize how to dial back, as opposed to giving more.

I know now that I don’t really have an issue with trying my hardest, and in fact it will be braver and more trying of my natural instincts to tone down my workouts and my do-or-die mentality. Of course I want to keep working and training hard, but something I really want to start to internalize is that for me—the greater way of challenging myself is finding a better balance. This means a rest day, every single week, even when I’d rather not and knowing when I’m on a run or in a race when I need to forego being a winner for the sake of being safe.

Part of being an athlete is understanding both the value of recovery and the value of hard work. I have been very one-sided when it comes to achieving this balance, and it reached a breaking point when I ignored my body’s warning signs for the sake of a certain finish time.

So, to make an already long story short, I have learned that being more cautious and offering my body more rest is ultimately going to make me a better athlete, and I’m happy to have a new kind of challenge ahead of me.

Have a great weekend all you lovely people out there! Thanks for following my meaning-of-life journey post-marathon, and I hope that if nothing else, I’ve offered a bit of insight into how pushing through pain only goes so far, and sometimes the harder, gutsier decision is knowing when to stop instead of go.

Tell me some marathon lessons you’ve learned! The good, the bad, and the pee-your-pants kind. You’re welcome internet for knowing about that now. Have you ever done that? Please tell me so I don’t feel like a toddler/old person. What are your Garmin suggestions? What are you doing this weekend? Will you help me save that panda from his tree? SOMEONE PLEASE HELP THAT PANDA.

Post-Race Reflections and Ramblings

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Slowly but surely (emphasis on the slowly, namely my walking speed), I am returning back to normal since the *excitement* from Sunday. I have done a little yoga, a little swimming, a lot of sleeping, a lot of horrific foam rolling, and drowned myself in frozen yogurt—all of which are helping to cleanse away the fear and the beating endured in the race.

A BIG thanks to those of you who’ve offered your support, condolences, and general affirmation after reading my lengthy race recap. I truly appreciate your kind words and happy thoughts.

There are many things that have been going on through my head since Sunday, and I think I have started to unwind from the pure shock of it all into some more grounded, realistic thoughts. However, I am still quite askew in terms of my rationalization of the whole thing, and while there are a number of words I could use to describe my current state of mind regarding running, marathons, etc., I think the one prevailing thing I’m feeling is frustration.

Now, before I dive into the specifics of this frustration, let me first say that I realize there are many different opinions on how I decided to run my race on Sunday. I have heard everything from ballsy and inspiring to reckless and stupid (I believe the phrase”psych exam” was in there somewhere), and I want to say that you are entirely entitled to your own opinion.

Personally, in terms of how I view it all, I think that I fall somewhere in the middle. On one hand, I know that I should have never put myself in that kind of danger, and I’m mad at myself for scaring my loved ones and myself by not realizing I’d reached my limit. On the other hand, and I say this with marginal reluctance, but the truth is—I can’t say that I would have run that race any other way. For better or for worse, my mind was stronger than my body on Sunday, and while I will absolutely need to keep this in check, I am also not surprised it happened.

It might be stubbornness, it might be idiocy, it might be determination, or it might be an alternative chromosome—no matter how you characterize my mindset during this race, all I know is that it is 100% who I am as a runner, an athlete, and a person. Which is part of the reason this race has left me feeling frustrated, among other things, and I’m having a hard time trying to reconfigure how to prioritize my goals from here on out.

Part of me wants to run for fun for the rest of the year; just running without regimin or goal time in mind—simply for the love of it. The other part wants to run so many marathons that I’m able to drown out the memory of what happened in Tacoma. I am certain I will land somewhere in the middle eventually. Frankly, I don’t like that a sport I love so much and a sport I hold in such high regard chopped me to pieces so quickly. I spent months preparing to run this marathon—I was ready for it, I was both mentally and physically chomping at the bit to do well, and in 3 hours and 44 minutes it punched those months of hard work right in the face. Well, in the IT band, the hamstrings, the quads, and the calves—to be more specific. It was my own fault, I know that, but at the same time I feel like I was cheated by the laws of all marathon running and general athletic endeavors.

Allow me to explain: Every single sports mantra, coach, PE poster, whatever will tell you, “Pain is weakness leaving to body,” “You’re stronger than you think you are,” and “To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift” (yes, I needed to include Pre). Since a very early age, we’ve heard all these mantras, and we’ve been told to believe that our bodies are much stronger than our mind allows them to be. Unfortunately, I internalized these ideas too much on Sunday—and I crossed over the line of my physical potential to my physical limitations.

The entire time I was running, particularly when it started to get really difficult, I told myself all these “mind over matter” sayings—I convinced myself that of course it was hard, it’s a marathon! I thought that the pain I was experiencing was the kind that everyone feels, and all I had to do was push it further—because I was stronger than any mental downfall or shortcoming. I knew I was in good enough shape to run a marathon, in fact I was in better shape than I was for my first 26.2, so the pain I was feeling must have been due to the hills and the speed—not to my own physical deficiency.

I realize how prideful this sounds, and it absolutely is, but more than anything it’s my obscene competitive nature. I am competitive with others, have no doubt, but my most fiery, ruthless competitive drive is with myself and my own goals. So despite knowing I was in more pain than I should have been, and despite knowing that running an 8:10 pace over 26 hilly miles was incredibly ambitious, I could not let up holding myself up to my highest standard.

I knew qualifying for Boston on this course was going to be miraculous. I said this to BF, to my family, and I thought that I knew it myself. However, I also knew, in the murky, victory-craving corners of my brain that it was still possible. I knew that if I had ideal conditions, perfect taper, and a little bit of race magic—I would be able to pull it off, even on a hard course. And…I suppose this was accurate, because had I not literally fallen at mile 26, there is a very good chance I would have qualified. However, instead of letting my training, the course, and the miracle come to me…I forced it, and that was my mistake.

I should have realized earlier in the race that should I qualify, the factors leading up to it wouldn’t be entirely in my control. Because despite how much we’d like to think it, miracle races (as BQing in Tacoma would have been) require a little something more than all the training and preparation we put into them. They require that certain race day magic that lights us up when we need it, and it’s somewhat intangible and undefinable. Unfortunately, I decided to forego the whole “let it come to you” notion and instead decided to make my own miracle happen. Once the image of myself crossing the finish line under a 3:35:59 clock got locked in my head, I couldn’t let it go—even though when I started feeling the wall around mile 19, I should have.

So instead of obeying the rules of “the wall,” something I had never before experienced, I decided to try and run right through it…and then when that didn’t work, I backed up and ran right back into it, over and over again. The funny thing though about walls is that they don’t move, and all that endless beating against my own wall ended up withdrawing every ounce of strength I had in me. I am sure that had I backed up my pace even a tiny bit, all the conditioning I knew I had within me would have regained a bit of control and I would have finished the race in a great time. I couldn’t accept “a great time” though, because I was chasing the 3:35 beast the entire race, and despite all the fire and poison it was spitting at me, I was determined to pin it down.

So, what do I take from all this? Well, there are many things—but more than anything, I think I have learned that on Sunday, my mental conditioning was stronger than my physical conditioning. So often our brains tell us to stop while our bodies have the ability to keep going—however, I experienced the opposite. I didn’t listen to my body, I brushed off my pain as durable, and eventually my mental stamina outlasted my body to the point where my body decided to no longer function.

There is, furthermore, a line between pushing to your limits and exceeding your limits—and this is something I had never really realized or grasped before. I’ll admit I’m a bit confused and worried about the line dividing “far” and “too far,” because up until Sunday, I believed we were capable of anything we set our minds too. Which I still believe…but now to a certain degree. I suppose what I will need to work on more than anything is listening to my body as opposed to pushing myself solely on brain determination.

At this point, I know I have the mental strength to get through a marathon…perhaps too much, and that is something I can still count on the drive me when the going gets tough. However, I am now going to have to work on deciphering between working to my full potential and working beyond my capabilities. Because, yes, I do have limitations…and despite the fact that my self-righteous subconscious would scoff at such a statement, it is the truth—as it is for everyone.

So where does that leave me? Well, I am going to continue to recover, reflect, and eventually I’ll get brave enough to put on my iPod and lace up my shoes. I’m actually still unable to listen to any of the songs I listened to on race day, and even seeing the clothes I wore gives me a bit of a shudder. No doubt, full recovery from this marathon—particularly the metal part—is going to take a while. However, I never shy away from an opportunity for self-improvement, and I’m happy to accept all the humility and re-prioritization it takes to get myself back in the swing of things.

I realize this post was rather stream-of-consciousness and didn’t have much of a thread running through it (I suppose not too many of my posts do though 🙂 ). However, this post was very expressive of the way my brain is working right now—just trying to process it all and regain a little composure. I ultimately just needed to get some of my thoughts down, and now that I have I feel a bit freer.

And now, because I am FASCINATED by this right now:

When is “pushing yourself” too much? Where do we divide the line between fighting through the pain and accepting it? Do you think runners are particularly susceptible to this kind of thinking?

Being Snarky and Sack Talk

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I learned yesterday that apparently it’s a blogging faux-pas to write about the weather. I mean, I realize weather chat is somewhat ho hum and a time filler in real life situations, but really? There are social rules for the internet?

This struck me because I mention the weather somewhat frequently, and it’s actually because it’s relevant…due to the whole running outside thing.

Well, I’ve never fit it much socially anyways. So let’s talk about Seattle’s current atmospheric decision-making, shall we?

To describe this week’s weather, I really don’t think there are two words more fitting than butt and hole.

Sorry, I live with a boy, and my already questionable manners/ladylike habits are going down the drain.

But seriously, this weather BLOWS, and the worst part is that the rest of the country is all, “Ohh! Spring is here!” “LOVE THE SUN” “70 DEGREES OF HEAVEN!”

Yea, I hate you all.

No… but like, a little. Fortunately for me, this is “Thou shalt not run” week, therefore I’m priding myself on my timing skills in getting hurt. Unfortunately, this weather is matching my mood a little too closely, and grumpy gimp-hood + miserable raindrops of sadness= the perfect setup for a depressing Bright Eyes music video.

I have already come up with the details: Me, staring longingly out the car window at my muddy, rain-soaked running path, while the camera zooms out to show Puget Sound, waves roaring and seagulls mercilessly fighting the wind. Next shot: me, rubbing large ice cube after large ice cube over my knee while chugging ibuprofen pills in a “I could be over-dosing on something serious” kind of melancholy way. A depressing song is playing the whole time.

WOW. Okay guys, it’s really not that bad. I’m being dramatic (so weird, right?!) and actually it’s probably a lot better that the rain is choosing this week to stick around 24/7. I can’t imagine how bad it would be if it were—gasp!—SUNNY here this week and I was isolated in an indoor RICE existence.

Pity party over, and can you say First World Problems?

Let’s focus on some positives.

So, I did get a very fast and easy diagnosis when I spoke with a PT the other night. I told her a bit about my mystery knee pangs, she pressed in one spot, I said ow, she said, “Well, I can tell you exactly what’s wrong.”

Which, by the way, is perhaps the best thing EVER to hear from a doctor, especially when you’re an anxious runner ready to get back on the road.

According to Dr. Lora, I have Pes anserine bursitis, which essentially means that it’s not my knee that’s jacked…it’s the little bursa sack where three of my major leg muscles come together. The bursa sack is there to absorb all the impact/tension that accumulates in that part of my knee, and currently mine is all hot and bothered and inflamed. She used much fancier terms than this, and all I really understood was “hamstring” and “you’re going to be fine.”

This bursitis could be due to a number of reasons, however through my incessant research, I’m fairly certain it’s due to one primary cause: Improper stretching/warmup/cool down routines associated with excessive repetitive activities.

Oh, you mean that I should have been stretching more and warming up and cooling down when logging 50 miles a week? GROUNDBREAKING. I am sure this is a case that would have sports scientists flabbergasted and pining to do lab tests on me.

NOT

What am I trying to say? In a nutshell, no shit my knee hurts. I admit, I’ve always been pretty fine without a warmup…or a cool down…or stretching very much. My body has always responded fine without these very basic athletic principles, or so I thought, and therefore I kind of carried along in my training without giving them a second thought.

Well, my body has come back to bite my in the butt. Or in the bursa sack. Sure, this might not be the reason for the pesky bursitis, however I would say it’s a safe bet due to my slacking of yoga for the past three weeks and my “post run stretching” consisting of two 10 second quad stretches and bending over to touch my toes once.

Remember when I gave myself a B+ in stretching?

Damn universe, you saw right through that lie. You got me. And I admit, I should have been stretching more…I’ll take back my B+ and give myself a C…okay fine! C-

So what does this mean? Well, I’m currently in an intense relationship with my ice trays, my bottle of pain killers, and my pillow. Why my pillow, you ask? Well, when I told the PT about the pain I was feeling in the morning, she advised I sleep with a pillow between my legs because I sleep on my side. I tried it two nights ago and woke up essentially void of any inflammation. Again, groundbreaking stuff over here: If you’re not jamming your bursa sack into your other leg for 8 hours of sleep, it won’t hurt!!!

But seriously, it is a quick fix that has a huge impact, I recommend it.

Also, doesn’t “bursa sack” sound inappropriate? I don’t think I’ve ever typed the word “sack” so many times at once, and it feels a little dirty.

Anyways, today is {hopefully} my final day off from running. I’m staying completely off my legs today, doing the whole RICE thing, and vying for some miles tomorrow morning. And yes I am planning on waking up around 4:30 am to pop some pain pills before I head out at 6:00 am. Lots of stretching/icing before and after as well, like a good injured bird. This is all very best-case-scenario, because I’m actually not sure how my bursa SACK is going react on the run, but I’m crossing my fingers…and you should too, please? 🙂

I’m feeling optimistic, although part of me is still very wary/afraid for my marathon future. Fortunately, this isn’t a serious ailment, and it can be aggressively treated/dealt with according to Dr. Lora. So here’s hoping that my resting has done some good work, and by continuing the recovery routine and actually doing the whole “stretching” thing, I can nip this thing in the bud.

Also, I would like to thank the people at the Eugene Marathon headquarters for posting this nice little Tweet today.

This didn't make my stomach lurch AT ALL

I like to imagine there is a “headquarters” for this event; full of race paraphernalia in the making, people on the phone with Nike and Gatorade, and Kara Goucher randomly stopping by to say “Hey.” This Tweet probably came from the college house of a social networking intern…but I prefer my headquarters theory.

44 days people. Not quite 7 weeks, a little more than 6 weeks. For now, I’m just going to focus on regaining the ability to run, then hopefully I can start to divulge my super-secret-not-so-secret plans for a finish time.

Hopefully this post wasn’t too overwhelming in terms of shark. Sometimes I can’t control my sarcasm and sass. I blame the sack and Girl Scout cookies.

Happy hump day! If you are in Seattle, stay dry…and to the rest of you, I don’t want to hear about your sun.

Tell me something fantastic about your week OR something you are out-of-control excited about for the near future. Spring break plans? Happy hour plans? St. Patty’s plans? I’m dying to hear some happy voices…so speak loud!

Branching Out, Angry Knee, and Minnie Pancakes

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This weekend, I did things a little differently.

And I liked it. A lot.

I’m the definition of “a creature of habit,” and it’s rare for me to switch up my routine, try anything new that I don’t already know I’ll love, or extend myself beyond a certain comfort zone. I like to think that I push my limits and that I challenge myself, and I definitely do, but there are certain areas of my life that I tend to keep very even-stevens in terms of their excitement. This is mostly due to the fact that I dedicate myself so wholly to running, that I get concerned with anything breaking up my consistent routine. While marathon training this is understandable, but there are other times when it simply gets in the way of the rest of life, which isn’t good. Therefore, I was very conscientious this weekend of incorporating more fun into my days other than just running.

And indeed I did. I spent all day Saturday with my dear friend Kawika, Saturday night with several old college friends at a bar/birthday gathering, and Sunday visiting for a bit with my friend Rose. Oh, and BF and I went bowling Friday night, which doesn’t sound extravagant, but for a couple who is normally so tired on Friday that even watching a full episode of a show sounds daunting, this was HUGE. Also, there was a bet made that whomever had the lowest total two-game score would pay for everything. I’m not saying who won or lost, but let’s just say I think the person who made the wager regretted their proposition by the end of the night…

Also, while all the normal bowling alley dwellers drank their beers, this is what my pre-22-mile-morning-run self was consuming.

LAME

….but perhaps this helped yield a certain final outcome?

Bowling and beer go hand-in-hand. Next time, no water bottle.

And speaking of, 22 miles was completed Saturday morning, done before 10:30 am! It was long, it was tiring, but it was absolutely great. Aside from one wrinkle in the run (which I’ll get to later), I couldn’t have asked for a more confidence-building, satisfying long run. Remember how I said on Friday that I was experimenting with some new long-run tools this time around? Well props to all—especially the new fuel that I tried.

liquid GOLD my friends

No stomach issues! AND I think the caffeine factor definitely helped with my energy overall. Also, I think my soreness was seriously lessened due to the enhanced electrolyte replacement. Good work PowerBar, I’m ready for my sponsorship now.

{Joke}

Moving on, another CRAZY thing about this run was what I did afterwards……

{insert moans of searing pain here}

I finally gave in and decided to give his whole “ice bath” thing a try.

YOU GUYS. THIS IS SO PAINFUL.

I knew it wasn’t going to be all relaxing and soothing, but I seriously was not prepared for just how intense this actually is. I used two whole bags of ice, kept my shorts on, and even bundled up on top like you’re supposed to. I cannot say that I ever really “got used to it” the whole 20 minutes that I was in there, and by the end I was literally counting down the seconds until I could get out. I immediately attempted to warm up in a way-too-hot shower, but after getting out it was clear that my core was still freezing cold. Despite the cranked heater and being bundled in a robe, I could not stop shaking and had to layer up and drink some hot water until I could finally manage to control my temperature.

I’m not sure if I did something wrong…or if my natural poor circulation just got the best of me, but hot damn ice bath, you got me good.

Okay, on the bright side, I need to credit my twenty minutes of Arctic conditions for my lack of soreness on Sunday, and I felt much less stiff after I got out and warmed up.

Overall, good times. And I was proud of myself for trying out some new running related things.

However, as mentioned, there was one hiccup.

My run felt great, however there was a twinge in my knee that I couldn’t seem to shake. My knee felt a little tweaked after a yoga class last week, but nothing too bad and I could run on it just fine. This was the same throughout the 22 miler, but I could definitely feel it. Not pain necessarily, but just an ache that couldn’t go away. The ice bath helped, but I was still feeling the ache throughout the whole day.

Yesterday, it had subsided a bit, and so I decided to go through with a shake-out run which actually made it feel even better. Last night it had all but gone away, which was encouraging, however this morning proved this little knee pang to be a bit more substantial than a tweak.

I was in actual pain when I woke up, and although walking around and getting blood flowing to it helped out, it’s still not feeling awesome.

And, I’ll admit it…it’s bothering me. Both physically and mentally.

I couldn’t help myself and did the whole Google-diagnosis for a while, and decided to quit because nothing was going to be encouraging or conclusive about doing that. See, I do learn things. Instead, I’m deciding to go against my natural instincts and—FINE—not run.

I’m going to give this knee pain a few days to hang out, relax, and hopefully get lost. Honestly, I’m far enough along with my training that a few days off won’t hurt, and it certainly will help if something is acting up from overuse. So while it burns a little bit inside me, I have learned enough and know enough to err on the side of caution.

I know it might feel better tomorrow, but I’m conclusively deciding to wait until at least Thursday to try out running. Running definitely doesn’t make it hurt worse, but I want to ensure that running isn’t taken out of the picture because of excess mileage.

And this is actually good timing, because West Seattle Runner is having a PT come in tomorrow night to do FREE injury consultation. You can show up, have a chat with her about your running ailments, and she’ll offer her expert advice. You can bet I’ll be there, with this knee pain at the top of my “what’s wrong with me?” list.

So, lots of different things happening around these parts—some good, some not so good, but all offering an interesting change of pace. I’m going to enjoy some sleep-in time this week, and honestly…with a weather report like this, running isn’t exactly super duper enticing:

Seattle says, "Oh, you thought it was spring? How silly of you!"

Here’s hoping this ailment goes away with some R and R. I’m doing my best to remain confident and calm (not an easy task, mind you)…and hopefully my new invention of shortbread GS cookies with Nutella on top will help.

Also, on one final note, BF often times reminds me of why we’re good together…but this reminder from yesterday is worth sharing:

While making pancakes for himself, BF delivered me this little beauty. A traditional Mickey pancake was too standard, therefore a bow of cranberries were added on top to emphasize the fact that it was Minnie. Creative touch BF, you’re the best!

Have a good Monday!

What’s your favorite pancake shape? Did you do a long run this weekend? A bike ride? A hike? Please share any fun/entertaining activities!

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Tag Archives: rest

Chicago, the rest of it.

Get Comfortable

This Time Around…

Embracing the Lazy

Run Love

Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde: Injured Runner Brain Dichotomy

Friday Lessons, Mustaches, and Pandas

Post-Race Reflections and Ramblings

Being Snarky and Sack Talk

Branching Out, Angry Knee, and Minnie Pancakes