Tag Archives: training

Embracing the Lazy

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.

Beware: Taper-Tantrum Diva Ahead

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You guys, I really thought I had everything under control…really, I did.

Although I’m not usually a big fan of taper-time (especially the final week), I was feeling pretty good about it. I was happy with my training, I felt ready, and I knew that all that stood between me and a 3:xx:xx finish time (not that’s not cryptic AT ALL) was a week of resting, hydrating, and eating. I had an easy walk/run 5k Girls on the Run practice on Monday, a not-too-fast, not-too-slow 6 miles on Tuesday, and I was feeling calm and collected.

Enter: the terrifying taper gremlins.

Yesterday was not a pretty sight people, and despite my better efforts—the Taper Beast crept up behind me, and pulled the proverbial rug from under my feet—dragging all my rhyme and reason along with it.

I don’t have much reason to begin with, so you can imagine what happens when all sense of logic and rationality is dispelled in one foul swoop.

And just like that, I entered a dark, deep, supremely uncomfortable state of undying restlessness. Every little thing was bothering me, and every single person in my line of sight would have readily run as far as they could in the opposite direction had they been able to hear the unwarranted and over-the-top hate thoughts going in my head. And then I would have been jealous of the fact that they were running and I was not, and then they would be in some real danger.

Essentially, I was/am feeling very overwhelmed…not necessarily by the race (at least not consciously…I’m sure my subconscious is a shit-storm of hallucinations right now), but more so by the things crowding around me. Yesterday I had an incredibly claustrophobic feeling of everything closing in on me, and all I wanted to do was to throw away every piece of technology I own, give away all my money to some war-torn country, and run away to a place void of human contact. I wanted to be completely free of accountability, free of material possessions, and free of the giant knot of thoughts that was pounding against the walls of my brain.

Sound crazy? You bet. Sound like a taper effect? Oh yes. I’m glad that this time I was at least able to recognize that these out-of-the-ordinary, nomad-like thoughts were more than likely the result of nerves, anticipation, and a general overflow of energy. However, the fact that this was a taper-tantrum and not a stream-of-consciousness epiphany in which I decide to sell all my possessions to children in need did not help me feel any less constrained.

I felt completely out of my skin, as if everything and everyone was closing in around me until I would disappear into the abyss. Unfortunately, the only thing that sounded freeing was running—without a watch, without an iPod, and without an agenda. However, I still had a few morsels of reason left over, despite the Taper Beast’s best efforts, and I knew running wasn’t a good option in the long run. (Pun intended, and by long run I actually mean “in the 3 days you have until running 26.2 miles with a very pointed goal in mind”). So, I did the next best thing.

I went swimming, where silence is unavoidable, but all forms of intrusive technology and people are completely avoidable. Little by little, stroke by stroke, my brain began to crack just enough to leak the poison that had overtaken my better self. Sure, I still had the desire to “accidentally” breast-stroke kick the guy next to me who’s version of sharing a lane means that I got the far left 6 inches while he got the middle, but I refrained.

And by the end, I felt better. Sure, the Beast was still there, but instead of allowing it to drag me all over the place without my consent or compliance, it was more as if I was carrying it piggy-back style. It had transformed from my ruler to my infant—I still had to haul it around with me and tend to its every need, but I was the one that was in control.

After leaving the pool, very gingerly and carefully—wary of the swarms of bad feelings coming back—I readily put on some encouraging, soothing, inspiring music and plotted my marathon playlist. That, with the addition of huge fistfuls of trail mix, calmed the diva yesterday, and so far this morning she has stayed calm. She is fed, she is currently being caffeinated, she is wearing a fuzzy jacket, and today she gets to be taken out for a dress rehearsal run, clad in marathon apparel. Sure, she might have spent a good hour last night Googling every last taper plan available via the internet, in some desperate attempt to tweak her already prescribed and effective schedule, but you know…baby steps.

The good news is once I can control the diva/Beast that gets to hang around these next few days, I manage to think about all the things I would prefer to occupy my mind space—like going to the running store for Body Glide and Energy Gels, updating my iTunes with 8:10 minute mile jams, and planning every last carbohydrate I’ll consume until Saturday night.

Ultimately, I know all these things will get done—and I know that despite all the stress and anxiety, it’s all in the name of kicking the crap out of the race on Sunday. Because if there’s one thing I know will tame my Beast—it’s letting her compete. She’s a ruthless little diva, and there’s nothing she loves more than chasing down strangers and leaving them in her dust.

So, lucky for everyone out there right now, the tantrums are at bay. I’m focusing on doing one task at a time, very carefully, and trying not the check the course map and weather report more than 5 times every half hour.

Also, reading ~~NYT Bestseller Certified Porn~~ Fifty Shades of Grey and listening to “The World’s Greatest” by R. Kelly are both excellent distraction mechanisms.

Yes yes, I know R.Kelly isn’t exactly a dinner-appropriate conversation piece anymore. But that song was one of the Summer Olympics songs many years ago, and I’ll be damned if I can’t listen to it and pretend like I’m prepping to represent the U.S. in front of the whole world to see. A small marathon in Tacoma, WA is essentially the same thing all you haters—DON’T DISAGREE WITH THE DIVA.

I am sure that my eager competitive self will overpower the crazy within a day or so, and I can promise that come race time I will care only about the 26.2 miles of running ahead of me. Writing this has actually helped quite a bit, and presuming there are still a few of you left reading that haven’t run for their lives away from the cyber space occupied by a Crazy Lady, I appreciate your attention to my freaking out. Knowing that there are people out there who get it helps tremendously, and any thoughts you have regarding easing taper anxiety and crazy anti-materialism and anti-society thoughts would be more than welcomed.

So tell me: What is the craziest taper-experience/freak out you’ve had? How did you tame the Beast? Do you think it’s even possible to try and have a “happy taper?” And perhaps most importantly, what do you feed your diva?

Ready

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Cadbury Mini Eggs, I’m ready for you to be gone now.

Remember how I’ve been talking nonstop about my obsession with these little gems and essentially all Easter candy since it came on the shelves around oh February 15?

Yea, I’m over it. It was fun while it lasted Mini Eggs, but this has gotten ridiculous. How can I move onto all of my other desserts when your endless bags are hanging around all the time?

FINE. I’ll finish them. But I am admittedly excited for these addictive little chocolates to be out of my house and off the shelves of every check-out line I come across.

Okay, glad we got through that. Hi, how are you?

I hope your weekend was splendid, and your week has started off great. Unless you haven’t seen one news source or been on the internet in the past 24 hours, I’m pretty sure everyone is well aware that the Boston Marathon was the talk of the town yesterday, in all its sweltering hot glory.

I am always impressed by this race and the amazing athletes it draws every year. However, I don’t think I’ve ever been more impressed by the grit and determination during the Boston Marathon more than I was yesterday. The heat added a whole new level of intensity to the already difficult miles ahead, and it forced all the runners to really show off their willpower. I was blown away by the resilience of all the runners, and I think everyone out there proved just why they were worthy of racing this historical route.

It made me even more eager to get my own BQ…..whensoever that may be 🙂

Once again, I am amused at the timing of the Universe and the ways in which it teaches us about ourselves. Of course, I know most things happen based on our own preparation and planning (or lack thereof), but sometimes I can’t help but think there is some cunning trickster (most of the time named Murphy’s Law) working endlessly to ensure that what we think we know isn’t always the case.

That being said, let’s go back to Friday’s post. If you missed out, it was full of reflections as to why marathon training is anything but a walk in the park. It’s challenging, it’s trying, and it does a sure-fire job of teaching us some humbling lessons. My biggest point in the post, and perhaps my greatest realization about my own training, is that running isn’t actually the hard part. Even when the runs are hard, they eventually end, and I know that the effort, no matter how brutal, will eventually land me in a better space, physically.

So, that post happened. And then came Saturday’s training run—22 miles, my last really long run before tapering begins in preparation for May 6th. And, to put it simply, every single one of those miles felt fantastic. I had some luck on my side—the day was pristine, and I had slept in one position through the entire night—but otherwise I was so pleasantly surprised by how great this run felt. My pace was very consistent (avg. 8:25 miles) and I was in one of those “can’t-stop-me-now” rhythms that we always hope for in a run. I didn’t wear my headphones for nearly 15 of the 22 miles, and I had a great time listening to my footsteps, the chirping birds, and the sunshine.

(I know you can’t hear sunshine, but sometimes…it almost feels like you can, you know?)

I practiced race-related things, including really opening it up at the end. In the last 2ish miles, I brought my pace down to half-marathon pace, and it felt really good to visualize and practice pushing it on tired legs. I finished feeling great, and I couldn’t shake the thought that I actually wanted…to run a bit more??

This feeling, along with the success of the final long run, helped me internalize one very confident thought:

I’m ready.

I don’t know if I ever felt this kind of satisfaction about my training during my first marathon (probably because I didn’t know what to expect), but after Saturday I was very decidedly confident in my preparation for race day. This sense of “readiness” triggered a different emotion as well, one that hasn’t left me since it first nestled into my brain this weekend: determination.

All my competitive thoughts have overwhelmed my forethought about Tacoma, and I’m ready to crush it. I’m truthfully not sure about what kind of time to anticipate, and I’m still planning my exact race strategy, but what I do know is that I’m ready to give every little bit I have into this race. I trust my stamina and training, and now I’m really just ready to ignite all my competition and racing instincts.

This is different than how I felt the first time around. Sure, I wanted to do well and I definitely had time goals (I can’t not…it’s a problem), but this upcoming race has me really hungry and filled with ruthless anticipation. It feels good, and hopefully all this psyched/amped/animalistic energy can contain itself and only get stronger over the next two and a half weeks.

Tacoma has now become my prey, and I’m ready to hunt it down.

Be afraid T-town, and readers, please don’t be scared by my predatory remarks.

Today really solidified my “readiness” feelings, and I’m glad because I was a little worried that Saturday was just an affect of the excessively large amount of tortellini and bread I had the night before.

I wanted to get in one last “tempo run” before I really settle into taper mode. Mainly for my own confidence, and not so much for training purposes. Now, my version of a “tempo run” really just means that I want to finish a run in a certain period of time, and whichever pace I choose to divvy out over those miles is up to me. In a nutshell, go fast—and don’t stop going fast.

I went on my normal Tuesday-10-mile route, and ended in 80 minutes flat. Very pleased with it, and my greatest intent with this run was to practice pushing really hard at the end when I was already wiped. So, despite feeling very tired and worked by the end of it all, it was great to again mentally conjure the feeling of pushing through the pain.

This run sealed the deal in terms of training prep, and now I’m excited to coast along the tapering wave.

So, please send along all your stress-free, injury-free tapering thoughts! I, of course, will be back in with more reports along the way. Also, I’m now taking wagers for the remaining lives of my toenails. My 4th toenail on BOTH feet are nearing death…black and beautiful, and I’m thinking it will be a miracle if I make it to the start line on May 6th with both in tact. Attractive stuff over here people.

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Have a great week!

It’s Not Just the Running

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Breaking news! And don’t forget, you heard it here first:

Training for a marathon is hard.

I know right…crazy talk! I mean seriously, who knew? Alright, not so much new news, whatsoever…in fact this is probably the most simplistic, fact-of-the-matter truth about training for 26.2 miles of running. Even people who have never even thought about running a mile know that there is nothing easy about marathon training, and actually they probably know better than the rest of us. Once you do bridge the gap, though, between beginning to run and training for the big kahuna, you are humbled and forced to recognize the hard-truth about how difficult all those miles, hours, stretching, icing, repeat actually are.

Something I’ve realized toward the end of this training cycle, other than how truly hard it is, is that I think after competing in multiple races and getting better acquainted with the training process—I tend to forget about the grunt work involved.

Going into this training session, I certainly didn’t think it was going to be easy, but I definitely had bit more confidence than when I trained for my first marathon (rightfully so I suppose). I am so used to hard workouts, long runs, and putting in the leg work so-to-speak that I sort of assumed that training is just a way of life for me. Truthfully, I enjoy training. I love the satisfaction of a hard workout, and I love the thought that I’m working toward a very tangible goal. In other words, training really works for me, for the way I like to live each day, which is why I think I may have been a bit overzealous and overconfident when coming into this second marathon training cycle.

I still enjoy it, I know I’ll be back again fairly soon after I’m done with Tacoma, but I’m realizing in these last few weeks just how brutally and unforgiving-ly hard training for a marathon really is. And perhaps more so, I’m realizing that it’s actually not the running itself that’s so hard.

Sure, the running is the source of all the fatigue and daily number crunching, but I think for me the hardest part of marathon training is the life that surrounds all the running. Obviously, these thoughts have been present at this point in time because I’m nearly three weeks away from race day—however I do feel like have some new insight into the overarching toll that marathon training really takes.

With that said, I thought I’d present you with what I believe are the hardest parts of training, aside from speed work and tempo drills. I know today’s supposed to be Friday Favorites, but this topic just seems too relevant and current to look over. Also, Marathon Monday is next week in Boston, and racing season is in full swing all over the country, therefore marathon talk is inevitable. Favorites will have to wait…perhaps there will be a Weekend Wonders or a Monday Marvels instead?

Moving on, I give you the RunBirdieRun Trials of Marathon Training: Everything Except the Running.

Scheduling

One of the biggest challenges with having such a strict number of miles to reach weekly is there isn’t much room to have, well, any other plans besides running. Specifically with long runs, the planning both before and after essentially takes up a whole weekend. Although this isn’t entirely too inconvenient, it leaves very little room for spontaneous nights out, an extra beer, or going away for the weekend. Sure, sometimes time sacrifices need to be made—I would never give away my life for the sake of marathon training—but that doesn’t mean my social life isn’t hindered when long runs take up three hours every Sunday. And going away for a weekend? I always get stressed about getting in a long run, and although it normally works out somehow it’s annoying to be bugged out by a run when you’re supposed to be enjoying some vacation time.

Sleepiness

I mention this in Tuesday’s post, but marathon training is incredibly taxing on general energy levels. Typically I’m someone who’s pretty upbeat and energized by nature, and I also don’t need much sleep to function at a high level. But with marathon training? It doesn’t feel like I can get enough sleep. I sleep really hard every night, which is a good thing, but I can’t ever really seem to feel really, totally rested. By 2 pm everyday I feel like I’m in a haze and need to take a nap (btw, thanks Nuun for helping alleviate this!). Don’t get me wrong, there’s no more satisfying sleepy feeling than the kind that comes after a long run, but it makes—once again—”real life” a bit more challenging.

Less Options

Now, I think we all know that I would almost always choose running over every other activity. Read: the name of my blog. But, there are days when I would much rather go to a sweaty spin class, go swimming, or you know—just do nothing. While I normally do look forward to my running designated days, there’s less variation and options available during marathon training in terms of a workout routine. I definitely believe in cross training, but I also believe that the most effective way to become a better runner is to run. This goes along with marathon training as well; you run a marathon, therefore the way you are going to get better is to run more. With that said, this leaves little room for error in terms of following a workout/mileage routine.

Food Planning

One of the fun parts about marathon training is the increased food consumption, or at least—I think it is. There’s something really cool about feeling the need for fuel in your body and listening to different cravings. It’s pretty amazing what your body communicates to you when it’s running 50 miles a week. And while I love the extra cookies and pieces of bread, there’s a lot more strategy required to eating than I think most non-marathoners would assume. The basic understanding that you can eat whatever you want, and as much as you want, while training may be true for some people, especially ultra runners, but I have to practice a lot more forethought and planning when it comes to marathon training meals. This is partially due to the fact that I have UC, and digestive issues are a daily battle, but it’s also because I’ve learned that there are things that work and definitely do not work as pre-run or post-run fuel. With that said, meal planning doesn’t come as simply as it does when I’m not marathon training, specifically around long runs.

The Running Accessories (Icing, Stretching, Foam Rolling, Hydrating, etc.)

It is no secret that running is one of the toughest activities on your body. As a runner, your body requires a lot of extra TLC in order to prevent injury and keep your progression smooth and steady. Now, differing opinions aside, we can assume that in order to be safe, stretching, foam rolling, icing, and excessive hydrating/refueling is necessary. It’s not a magic formula, but for the most part you can rest assured that your running will appreciate all of these “accessories.” But the fact of the matter is that all these things take a lot of time, and frankly—sometimes you just don’t want to do them. I can’t tell you how many times I have a checklist going through my head of all the things I need to do both pre- and post run, and it gets exhausting. I’m definitely thankful for my efforts to get them all done, but it’s a lot to keep track of and there are many times when I just rather wouldn’t put a piece of ice on my bare skin three times a day.

The Mental Toughness

Or perhaps I should say, lack thereof. Anyone who has trained for a race, no matter the distance, has experienced a wane and surge in their self confidence regarding their physical shape. There are some days where I can run seemingly forever and feel great about my condition and my prep for race day. Then there are other days when completing just a few miles at a very slow pace feels like hell, and I question how I ever could finish a marathon. Our brain and the effect it has on us is perhaps the biggest hurdle we face when training for a race, specifically a marathon. As runners, we know that running is almost equal parts physical and mental. A run can go two very different ways, all depending on how we approach it mentally. Our brain plays a very active role in our running life even when we’re not running as well, and this is why even weeks before taper begins and race nerves set in—we can through countless emotions and tribulations over the loftiness of our goals.

One of my absolute favorite mantras that was told to my basketball team while running suicides by our coach is, “The body is a lot more powerful than the mind gives it credit for.” I repeat this to myself whenever I’m feeling completely defeated, both while I’m running and when I’m not, as I think it is one of the most absolute truths about athletics, specifically running. Fighting our mental battles, in my opinion, is the absolute hardest part about marathon training—and as the races draw closer and the pesky voices of uncertainty starts to drown out our confidence, our 20 mile runs start to seem like the easiest part of the process.

So, aside from making marathon training sound like an excruciatingly tolling endeavor, what is my point to all this? Well, I have a few points, the first being that it’s important to remember the all-encompassing nature of marathon training. I will be the first person to encourage anyone who wants to take on a marathon. In fact, I’ll be standing at the finish line with your name painted on my stomach and a pom pom shaking in your sweaty face. But, I do think it’s important to remember that marathon training is so much more than just running X amount of miles per week.

I believe that running starts to become the easy part—it’s simple, you know how to do it, and when it’s done, it’s done. It’s all these extra, “bonus!” factors that come from the running that we deal with all the time—and they are what ultimately I think marathon runners should be most prepared for.

I admittedly forgot about these aspects of marathon training. I remembered the weekly big pasta dinners and the epically long weekend runs, and that’s about it. And this makes perfect sense, because I love both of these things. Our brains do this very helpful survival tactic of blocking out troubling or tough memories in favor of the things we would choose to remember instead. However, in the case of marathon training, it can slap you right in the face when you realize the tough stuff that comes along with all the endorphins and baguettes.

Despite it all, though, I think the most important point I would like to make is this:

At the end of it all—weeks, months, and hours of questioning your sanity—it’s all worth it.

If you’ve raced before, specifically a half or a full marathon, you know that there’s no better feeling than crossing a finish line. It leaves you with the most deliciously satisfied feeling in the world; a feeling of pure self-confidence with the goal you just achieved. There’s a reason why runners tear up when they read stories of others’ finish line victories; it’s because we know what it’s like, and there’s nothing else that compares.

And you know what? It feels so damn good because of how hard it is. All those things I listed about how hard marathon training is and how taxing it can be are a big part of why crossing a finish line and being given a medal is such a sense of accomplishment. It’s the best place on Earth, and I can guarantee that no matter how much pain, discouragement, and frustration you may have faced along the way, what you will remember more than anything is the simple fact that you did it.

So, if you’re considering signing up for a marathon (which is AWESOME!), consider all the factors that are going to go into it. It will be a humbling experience, and it’s anything but easy, but if you put in the work it will absolutely pay off in the end.

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Happy Friday! Have a lovely weekend.

What do you think is the hardest part about marathon training? What advice would you give about training from your own experience?

Hills, 2012 Miles Update, and Pancakes

1 Reply

Hello!

I don’t have anything monumental or ground-breaking to say today (because, you know, the rest of my posts are essentially scholarly journal-worthy), however I thought I’d drop in for a quick update on some goals that have been discussed before.

To start off, on Tuesday I made a vow to add some hill training into my routine in order to train for my {new} marathon course in Tacoma. Actually, I don’t really think I vowed that—but I did in my head, and now I’m admitting it, which means I’m accountable.

But it’s okay! Because I am adding hills!

Exhibit A: Today’s run…

Look! Hills!

I realize that might be crazy hard to read, but the elevation change is there—I promise. There is a nice 6 mile loop near our house that goes something like this: Flat, down, down down, flat, flat, flat, flat, then up, up, up, up. Isn’t my topography narration pro? This should probably be a science blog. Anyways, here is a visual:

This probably means a whole lot to you, I know.

In order to get my semi-long-run miles for the day (12) in and include some up-and-down hill action, I decided to do this loop twice.

And let me just say, adding 350 feet of climbing TWICE into a 12 mile run makes the whole experience a lot more—interesting—than my normal candy route of out and back on beach-front, flat path heaven. The first loop I kept thinking “Oh great, I get to do this all again,” and so that was a little distracting, however the second loop was glorious and actually a bit faster than the first. I finished in 1:43:30, meaning just below 8:40 average/mile.

Note: If you’re wondering why I never post splits, it’s because I don’t own a Garmin, and I haven’t decided yet if I want one. Currently, I record my “splits” and pace and min/mile using a lot of mental math and number memorization. The way I knew that the second uphill run was faster than the first was because I played the same song both times up, and the second time I was further up the hill when the song ended. Again, so pro. But creativity points, perhaps?

And because I know you’re dying to know…yes the song was Defying Gravity, and yes it was awesome.

A Garmin someday… I do have a birthday in less than a month, don’t I? 😉

Anyways, although that pace isn’t ideal, I was happy with it—particularly because it took into account the probable 10 min/mile trudge I was racking up on those big hills.

Good news is that I know Tacoma doesn’t have climbs nearly this steep for this long, so if I just keep thinking a “hilly course” includes some of these monsters, maybe marathon day won’t be quiet so daunting?

Moving on, I realized recently that I hadn’t been updating or keeping track of my 2012 miles since the whole knee debacle started. I panicked a little, thinking there was no way I would be able to come up with my most recent number, but thanks to some memory skillz and past blog posts, I came to a final tally.

Miles Run in 2012: 538.7

Percentage of 2012 Goal Completed: 26.77%

Percentage of Year Over: 26.22%

Success still! Even though I definitely lost some of my progress when I was busy resting instead of running, I’m glad that I had accumulated enough cushion to make up for lost time. Again, this goal is more of a “just for fun” thing, so I’m not completely engrossed with making it happen, but it’s kinda cool to keep track of mileage build up.

This mileage tally also indicated that I need to buy some new shoes. I’m nearing 500 miles on these ones I’m wearing now, and so I’m due for some upgrading.

And finally, I leave you with this beauty of a breakfast-for-dinner created by BF and myself last night:

If you cover pancakes with enough strawberries, all the syrup you have already put on them is cancelled out. Fact.

I realize I’ve been talking about pancakes a lot recently (i.e. in reference to the Eugene Marathon, photos of weekend happenings, etc.) and it’s a little strange because I actually don’t love pancakes that much. I mean, I love all food, and pancakes are delicious, but I am not nearly as passionate about them as my blog has been showcasing recently. They are not, for example, equivalent to peanut butter or Cadbury Mini Eggs, both of which I could easily write long poems about every day.

However, apparently both BF and I are on a pancake kick, and we really can’t get enough. The shapes you are seeing portray various inside jokes between the two of us, and none of them—surprisingly—are inappropriate. Shocking, really, if you know our humor. There’s still more batches to be made though…

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Friday Favorites tomorrow! See you then, and if you don’t mind sharing:

What pancake shape is your favorite? Is there a design you’ve made that you’re particularly proud of?

Spring Marathon Announcement

7 Replies

I have a kinda-sorta-semi significant announcement to make, and it involves a change in my spring marathon plans. I got this idea planted in my head last week, and upon mulling it over and weighing all the pros and cons and whatnot—I’m confident that this is the best call for a variety of reasons.

To put it simply (WHAT? Crazy…I never do that) here you have it:

I am not running the Eugene Marathon.

Instead, I am running the Tacoma City Marathon.

I realize that this is really only a big deal for me, but since some of you may have been following me throughout this training cycle(hey followers! I love you!)—which has, up until this time, been focused solely on running in Pre’s old stomping grounds—I figured I owed an explanation.

The idea to switch my marathon plans first came about during a run (weird, right?) last week. For those of you who don’t know, I’ve recently been battling back-and-forth with some intense knee bursitis. I had to alter a lot of my training plan, visit the orthopedic doc (aka: Dr. I’ll Give You Cortisone Therefore I’m a Godsend), and generally wait out the inflammation that has been crippling my entire left leg. So needless to say, although I’m on the way out of injury land and kicking back into training mode, I definitely lost some time.

The Tacoma City Marathon is a week after Eugene, and I knew this only because I was planning on going to volunteer for it. I began thinking about the logistics of Eugene (aka: travel, lodging, time, etc.) and I thought, “Huh, if only I was doing Tacoma instead…that would be so much easier.”

Obviously this triggered all of my logical-decision versus idealistic-decision making thoughts, which looked a little something like this:

(Note: when I talk to myself, I don’t really use second person, but for the sake of blog-talk, just go with it.)

“Wait, why don’t you just do Tacoma instead?”

“But Eugene has been the plan all along. It’s flat! It ends in Hayward Field! I could BQ in Eugene!”

“You would have to go to Eugene by yourself, buy a hotel room, pay for gas, and spend 12 hours driving ALONE.”

“But you already paid for Eugene! And they have pancakes at the end!”

“Tacoma is HALF AN HOUR AWAY. BF could come. You won’t have to celebrate at the finish line alone. You will SAVE money.”

So, this went on for approximately 4 days (Doesn’t my brain sound like a party?!), and thanks to some guidance from Mama, they always are right—aren’t they?, and some big time pros in the “Tacoma” category…I’ve decided to forgo my Eugene Marathon plans, as well as my dreams of a flat-PR accessible course.

Yes, that entire paragraph is one sentence. Too lazy to change…it’s free form, right?

The course change is really the biggest downside of this decision: Eugene is notorious for dishing up PRs and BQs to its participants, right alongside the all-you-can-eat pancakes at the end. And while this wasn’t the reason I chose this race, it has certainly helped encourage my secret-but-not-really-secret BQ goals.

No big deal, you say, just go for a BQ in Tacoma instead.

Yea…that’s the thing about the Tacoma race. One word can be used to describe the course, and it starts with an “H” and ends with a long, exhausting, oh-my-God-never-ending “ILLS.” No one sugarcoats the hill factor when describing the Tacoma Marathon—even the website says “train for hills!” in an annoyingly chipper yet threatening way. I know websites don’t have a tone of voice, but I was offended by this statement.

Not that I’m necessarily bad at hills, but when you go from training for a flat/marginally downhill race to training for a constantly rolling hill race, your time goals dial back a bit. And you know what? It’s okay.

Truthfully, I had already come to terms with the fact that a BQ was perhaps not in the cards for this spring, due to bursitis being an a-hole and sidelining me for three weeks. Also, it’s not like I won’t try my very hardest in Tacoma—and I look forward to seeing how my effort thus far emancipates on race day.

There are also many reasons why Tacoma is definitely the smarter and more logical choice. Let’s do some listing, because that’s what being type-A is all about, right? Cool.

–Tacoma is where I first started to love running. I went to school in Tacoma, and while it took me a few years and many boxes of wine to eventually lace up and head out on the roads, I do feel a certain home field advantage about racing in this town. Although I love Seattle and will never live in Tacoma again (that’s putting it nicely btw), there is a certain nostalgia I get when I think about running in Tacoma.

– Money. Monetarily, I’ll probably end up better off. Yes, I’ll have to bite the $90-Eugene-Registration bullet and tack on another registration fee for Tacoma. However, given the fact that with Eugene I’d had to pay for accommodations, gas, food, and all the race shwag that I’ll rationalize with “But I came all this way!!!!”, I’m thinking I’ll actually save money.

–Time. For me, a marathon is certainly a good reason to spend a whole weekend traveling, but the fact that I won’t have to drive 6 hours after running 26.2 miles (and not to mention beforehand) provides some enormous relief. Post marathon time should only be spent at Chipotle, on the couch, or in the Dairy Queen drive-thru. ONLY.

–(Boy)Friends! I know it’s silly to consider having a cheering section as an advantage, however I am comforted by thinking that I’ll have some supporters in Tacoma. BF is in crazy-busy-work-mode right now, and there was no way he would have been able to come to Eugene. This way, not only will he be able to come, but he’s thinking he’ll race the half too! Hooray couple racing! Also, I have some friends in Tacoma that I’m planning on ~~forcing~~ nicely asking to come to the finish line. My sister also said she’d be able to make it to Tacoma. It’s just a T-town party, all kinds of fun.

–Revenge. That sounds intense, because it is. Let’s back track: Last year, I signed up to do the Tacoma City Half Marathon and was all amp-ed up for it: It would be spring, it would be in my own backyard, and it would be ON MY BIRTHDAY. Perfect situation for 13.1 miles right? And it was…but not for me. You see that was the time of the year that my little friend Torn Hip Flexor was hanging around and decided that it wouldn’t let me walk or run for a very long time. Racing was out of the question, and I had to settle with my first “DNS.” So, when I say that “revenge” is motivating my change in race plans, I’m being very serious. Although it was not the race itself that disabled me from running, I do feel a certain call from it to come back and get some redemption. And oh Tacoma City Marathon, I will get that redemption…and instead of taking back those 13.1 miles I was robbed of last year, I’m going to tack on another 13.1 just to prove my point.

Are you scared of me yet? Just think I’m insane and spend too much time by myself? Well, agree to agree with you on that one. Threatening and personifying a perfectly innocent race is perhaps one of the insights into my psyche I should have kept to myself.

But in all seriousness, I’m feeling pretty pumped at the thought of redeeming my Half DNS from last year with a full marathon. I have no clue how well it will go, I am still working on some time goals (stay tuned for that), but I’m psyched to run 26.2 miles on the roads where I first started to love running. So Tacoma, next time I see your smelly, sketchy, humble little self, I’ll be waving at you with a race number tagged on and presumably a lot of salt on my face. Hey, if you’re not dressing up for me…I won’t pull out the stops for you. Let’s just be stinky and tired-looking together, okay? It will be beautiful.

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I hope your Tuesday is going well! And today I’d like to know…

Do you have any spring racing plans? Have you ever changed a race plan mid-training? Do you enjoy thinking of races as living, breathing things that you want to get in a fight with?

Warning: Sparkly Excitement Ahead

3 Replies

You know how you ~~secretly~~ hate those people who are all “Happy Monday!” “Welcome to the week!” “I love life!”? Seriously, pretty much everyone is merely trying to get through this first day of the week, why do you need to shove it in our faces that you are hyped on Prozac and caffeine and unicorns all the time?

Yea, well…today, I am one of those people. So, if you aren’t feeling exclamation points and glass-over-flowing-with-excitement optimism this afternoon, go ahead and quietly scroll your arrow to the little “x” box at the top right corner of your screen and pretend like you were never here. No hard feelings.

Still with me? Sweet! Now let’s make some sweet sweet rainbows and sunshine together.

On Friday, I posted a bit about my hopefulness and hesitation for the fate of my spring marathon aspirations. Due to my knee being a huge a-hole and my training getting thwarted for two weeks, I was coming to terms with the fact that things may not pan out as I’d hoped.

And I was okay with it…I really was.

Then came yesterday’s run. Oh dear, sweet yesterday’s run.

After very grudgingly getting out of bed for an attempted “long run,” I decided that I would be shooting for 16 miles. That was the ideal, and if I had to cut it short, I would accept it. Because that’s the Smart Runner Bird I’m trying to be, remember?

So then, I started to run. And I felt fantastic. And I kept running…and I still felt fantastic.

Call it cortisone, call it rest, call it luck, call it the Aleve I took literally 3 minutes before walking out the door, but no matter what it was…it worked. I kept running, waiting for my bursa sack to inflame and immobilize the rest of my leg the way it had been for the past two weeks.

NADA. NOTHING.

I stopped halfway through to stretch a bit, and while my knee tingled a bit, there was no indication that running was irritating or bothering it in any way. As I started off on the last half, you could not get the smile off my face. It was ridiculous and reminiscent of an elementary school “You Can Do It!” motivational poster…but I just couldn’t help it. The thought, “I’m back!” kept reverberating in my brain, and I relished every moment. It also didn’t hurt that despite a forecast of rain and wind, there was sunshine and {some} wind instead.

So proud of you Seattle, so proud of you knee.

I even threw in a mile long hill at the end of it all with a 300 ft. elevation gain for some added grunt, and the knee seemed to take it all in stride. I felt as if my knee was like, “Okay Robyn, since you actually did the right thing and laid off me I’ll suck it up and get better. You win.”

Total mileage? 17.22

SO PSYCHED. This was super encouraging, as I’ll {hopefully} still be able to get in two, 20+ milers before taper.

Please excuse my overly enthusiastic Tweet yesterday in which I had miscalculated my mileage before mapping it.

awkward.

No problem. 18 would have been great, but 17 is great too.

Side note: I have this weird thing about running distances that are odd numbers. As in, I am really uncomfortable with it, and I almost always try and run even numbers of miles. Half Marathons are great, but 13.1 is scary numerically to me. Fun Fact Monday. Well, maybe not fun, but maybe it helps make you feel more normal?

I even foam rolled afterwards and stretched! Improvements!

I would like to say this face was exaggerated, but that would be a lie. Self portrait attempts + quad mutilation via hunk of foam + face caked in salt= the essence of beauty.

And if I hadn’t already basked in pain-free running glory enough, I decided to do the wise injury-prevention thing and go to yoga yesterday afternoon. It was definitely not my best performance, and I stuck to all the easier versions of the poses, but my calves and hammies were very happy with all the stretchy attention the got. I think I fell asleep for a minute in savasana also, but that must mean I was really meditative and Zen. Right? Good.

And speaking of meditative and happiness and birdies, this was also a necessary end to the day:

Oh buttery, sugar-coated, pink, bird sugar cookie, I love you.

I am feeling wonderfully sore and sleepy today. After not doing a long run for a few weeks, those miles definitely wiped me out in the best possible way. I’m still on the watch for lingering injury pain, but yesterday was definitely a fat ole’ confidence boost kick-in-the-butt. {I also don’t think you can get more adjectives/descriptive nouns in one sentence. Way to go English major, way to utilize your inability to tone down your detailing.}

Nothing like a little patience to really make a run feel like solid gold.

Shake out run today, and presuming things keep going well, I’m looking forward to continuing on in this [final!] month of marathon training.

____

Now… please let me hear your lovely voices! Did you race this weekend? Long run? How’d it go? Are you as sad as I am that Alec Baldwin is engaged?

Green Positivity

Then and Now

4 Replies

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about where I was last year around this time.

As I’ve mentioned before, last spring I spent three months completely unable to run. I had a torn hip flexor, and I could barely walk without being in pain—and running was not only out of the question, it was physically impossible.

I don’t want to continue bringing the subject up, but it’s feeling particularly relevant right now—especially because it was exactly one year ago that everything came crashing down for me, or so I thought.

One year ago, I was devastated, panicked, and felt completely and totally lost. I had lost myself in running, and when it was taken away I didn’t know in what direction to turn. I was also, frankly, pissed at running. I had given it everything I had, and it turned around and kicked my feet out from under me.

Again, or so I thought.

Looking back, I can really tell how my mentality in regards to running and being “a runner” has changed. As I sit out these next few days, nursing a mystery knee pain, I know I’ll be thinking a lot back to where I was last year, and how it’s affected where I am now.

So while I’m definitely not thrilled about this (hopefully) small set back, it is encouraging to think back on where I was a year ago, and where I am now. And yes, I do think it’s ironic that “injury” would strike at the exact same time, to the week, both last year and this year—but hey, when the universe offers up some time for reflection, why not take a gander eh?

Last year, before I even got hurt, I honestly wasn’t running anymore because I loved it. I had become so obsessive about it, and addicted to it, that I wasn’t doing it because I wanted to—but because I needed to. I had whittled my interests down so much that the only way I could achieve a momentary sense of accomplishment was by running, far, every day.

And, as is the nature of the running beast, it fought back. It saw my recklessness and my lack of respect for it, and it broke me down. It sidelined me and forced me to reevaluate my priorities and my reasons for running.

Now, looking back, I can honestly say that despite all my frustration and sadness, I am thankful for this eye-opening experience of being completely unable to run. It helped me to understand that our bodies aren’t indestructible, and in order to do the things we love we need to give ourselves TLC, and that means things like resting, stretching, cross-training, and maintaining balance. These were all things that I never did; I thought running as far as I could as often as I could was the means to being the best, the most disciplined.

Since then, I’ve found that it’s quite the opposite.

Being a good athlete is not all about having physical and mental fortitude, it’s about having humility and understanding of how to take care of ourselves. Respecting our bodies includes knowing when to back off, and that’s something I hadn’t figured out back then. I’ll admit, it’s still hard for me to not want to go hard most every day—but I feel so much more complete and satisfied with my ability to embrace balance.

And all the while, amidst learning how to take better care of myself, I reestablished my love for running. My respect for the sport has reached a whole new level, and at the same time my love for it and my confidence in my own abilities has increased as well.

Which brings me to today, one year after having a complete mental breakdown over being hurt.

Instead of fighting through the pain, and ignoring this pang in my knee, I am deciding to relax this week and wait until Friday to run. Even if running isn’t the culprit for this annoying knee ache, I want to make sure that it doesn’t irritate it any more. I’m thankful that I’m far enough along in my training that a few days off really isn’t going to hinder my progression, and I’m hopeful that the whole “an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure” adage is true in this case.

And truthfully, with all this training that’s been happening, I think a few days off could really help reinforce my dedication to my runs and the enjoyment I get out of them. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, friends.

So, one year ago, I was beaten both mentally and physically. As cheesy/strange as it might sound, running had broken my heart, and it took a good long time to realize that it was actually the kind of tough love I really needed.

One year later, I’m listening to my body, I’m being cautious, and I’m not letting my animalistic must-run-now instincts keep me from being smart.

In retrospect, I’m grateful that being sidelined forced me to reconstruct my relationship with running, and I’m happy to have been given the opportunity to put those lessons into practice.

Sure, part of me is all, “You hear that universe? I’m seeing the error in my ways and acting upon it…so can my knee feel better now?” But, I know that time is what’s necessary to ensure proper TLC sets in, as well as sleeping in and loading up on ibuprofen.

What are some running lessons you’ve learned? When do you know it’s time to back off?

Injury Psychosis, or “My Irrational 10 PM Panic Attack”

4 Replies

Last night around the time I was supposed to be basking in a post-long-run comatose, I was actually having a panic attack. It wasn’t loud, aggressive, or filled with tears (can you guess how these normally go for me?) but it definitely happened, and it kept my brain a-flutter for far too long.

To summarize, in the space of about 3 iPhone internet searches, I self-diagnosed myself with a stress fracture and resolved myself to a fate of another spring without running and no more Eugene marathon.

Let’s back up a bit though.

Yesterday, I ran 18.5 miles for my long run—a bit longer than I intended on, however I felt great the whole time. Despite a brutal head wind that never seemed to go in the right direction, conditions were ideal for this run, and I was thrilled to be out in short sleeves again. There was really only one thing irking me, and right from the get-go it didn’t really make sense: a shin splint.

I’ve had shin splints before, however that was back when I was running track, and I don’t think I’ve actually had one from running since then. Therefore, I was really confused how after all the mileage I’ve built up and training I’ve done, one persnickety little shin splint would choose to show up out of the blue. It didn’t get worse or anything throughout the run, it just kind of hung out not wanting to go away. After I was done, I noticed that flexing my foot to push the pedals in my car was irritating it—and this put me on edge a bit.

I’m very paranoid about any kind of injury (as most runners are) but I think that I’m particularly wary when it comes to any ache or pain in my body. I go right into prevention/recovery mode whenever I feel something’s off—ice, pain killers, stretching, etc. Last night, the pain still hadn’t subsided, and although I was completely fine in terms of weight-bearing and walking, I still had a pang whenever I would flex my foot.

So, after BF had fallen asleep (yesterday he ran the furthest he’s ever run before—14 miles!), I decided to do what I believe is one of the biggest mistakes runners can do: I went online and tried to figure out what was wrong. Now you see, shin splints and stress fractures are quite interrelated in terms of their similar symptoms, their location, and their frequency in runners. Therefore, when you start Googling anything related to shins and running and pain, you get a very wide range of possibilities for the culprit. This would be the part of the story where I go straight to the worst case scenario, deciding not only that I have a stress fracture but that I can no longer run the Eugene Marathon and must resound myself to swimming and spinning for 6-8 weeks. Not only that, but I actually thought about how sad I would be to read other runner’s blogs and how I would need to try to stay positive in my own blogging. Oh, I also thought, “Maybe I’ll still be able to do the half? But then I’d be so depressed seeing people do the full…and why would my family come if I was only doing the half?”

Okay.

Yes, all those thoughts did go through my head.

No, I don’t have anything near a stress fracture.

Once I woke up this morning and regained a better grip on reality, I realized two things: It’s actually not running or impact that irritates this feeling in my shin (it’s flexing my foot), and I’ve had this pain before—and it definitely wasn’t a stress fracture then either.

After a little more logical and thorough investigation with my sports doctor known as Dr. Google, PhD., I got a little closer to what I think is going on.

Ready for some fancy name-calling? Tibialis Anterior Tendonitis. AKA: Really bad shin splints.

In a nutshell, one of the muscles on the front of my leg has some tendonitis, and it hurts to bend my foot.

So yes, it’s too bad and I’ll be taking all the proper precautions in the mean time, but no…it’s not the completely debilitating injury that my pre-bedtime brain decided it was.

Now, I know many runners are super hyper-aware about getting hurt, and understandably so. However, I do think there was a particular reason I so quickly and dramatically decided that this pain meant the worse case injury. You see, it was almost exactly one year ago to the weekend that I got hurt last year. I actually think it may have been the exact same weekend; I had run my half marathon PR, and like a really super smart person decided to run 9 miles the day after. Thus began the week-long downward spiral of my hip flexor, which ultimately would end up torn and disabling me from being able to walk, let alone run. I couldn’t even run 10 feet for a solid 2 months without my hip seizing in pain, and it would be 3 months before I could run more than a mile.

Those were fun times. No, actually they sucked. However, despite it all I did learn a lot about myself as a runner, and more importantly about my limits.

So, what does all this have to do with my panic attack about a stress fracture?

Well, I can’t be entirely certain, but I do think a part of my brain—that mysterious subconscious part that enjoys playing tricks on you—is in full-force protection mode right now in regards to injuries. Because last year my spring was so wholly down-trodden due to my limping gimp status, I think part of me is really bugged-out scared about the possibility of something like that happening again. And, sure, it’s for good reason—no one wants to get hurt—but for me that period of time is not entirely pleasant to think back to. I have such high hopes for this spring, for this upcoming marathon, and for the plans I have for the summer, and it cripples me to think of them going wrong.

As a runner, I do need to realize that injuries do happen—it’s all in the nature of the sport. I have internalized this, and I feel better prepared for if and when something happens again, but this little bout of panic I had last night made me realize that maybe I’m more afraid of it than I consciously think I am. I know I got through it last time, I know I could get through it again, but I also remember the feeling of disappointment that lasted for months. And that feeling is what I’m most afraid of. Disappointment in myself for not training smarter, disappointment in not being able to cross another marathon finish line, and overall disappointment in missing the glory of a good run.

So I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I’m feeling a bit vulnerable right now, and I know it’s because at this point—I do have a lot to lose.

And in reality, that’s a really good thing.

Sure it’s scary to think that one little slip up could take everything away, but I’m a big believer in the idea that it’s when you’re happiest that you tend to feel the most vulnerable. When you’ve built up a great deal of strength(both literally and figuratively) in your life, you cannot help but feel exposed and be fearful that all your hard work will come crashing down.

It is better to feel like you have something to lose rather than nothing to lose, though. When you have something to lose, in this case—training and mileage build up—it’s because you’ve put dedication into something; you’ve taken time and care into making something happen. The thought of those hours and grueling efforts going to waste is horrifying, but I think we/I should remember that they actually will never go to waste. Sure, if I were to get hurt, there would definitely be a loss in morale and my marathon registration fee, but it wouldn’t take away from the hours I’ve spent on the pavement, loving the feeling of running, and soaking in the greatness that is a runner’s high.

I’m going to try and remember this, as I nurse this pesky shin splint, but also as I think about the future of my running career. This momentary lapse in my better thinking made me realize that part of being a good runner is internalizing the fact that injuries happen, and I need to trust myself a little more. I’ve done everything I can to stay healthy, and if my body doesn’t choose to cooperate—well then, there really isn’t anything I can do about it.

Of course, as with most tough things, this mentality is easier said than done, but I am going to try and focus on the reality of being a runner instead of just the ideals of it.

Obviously running a PR in every race and having a great run every day would be awesome, but it’s not the nature of the beast. Sometimes, we need a little dose of fear to help us realize that running isn’t a submissive mistress. She keeps you on your toes, and you need to listen to her demands in order to maintain a steady relationship.

Icing, ibuprofen-ing, massaging, and resting until this bugger subsides. I’m considering waiting until later in the week to run again, but we’ll see how things go. Thanks for reading my attempts at narrating the complexities of my brain. Sometimes I feel like it’s trying to be an announcer for a 20-person trapeze show…not a cool task.

Questions: Tell me something fun about your weekend! Or, if you’re feeling deep, tell me about your thoughts on the psyche of injuries.

Run Birdie Run

…because it's the only way to fly.