If not now, when?

Archive for the ‘marathon’ Category

Training Pause…

f1dc2cad6b36e8f3277d9e224ea19561I ran a 5K last week.  I didn’t even have a race report, because I went to bed that day.  And slept.  In the days before the race, I lifted (without gloves) in the gym…(I’m sure this is where I got the virus)…and then swam at 6am in the gym pool the day before the race.  Sunday came, and I didn’t even get online.  Since coming home Monday, I’ve hacked up a lung (nice visual), and am still sick.

I’m on an inhaler, antibiotics, cough drops, aspirin, Mucinex (had to stop that due to a weird rash), and water. And, I’ve been there for 8 days.

No running, no gym.  In the old days, I would have sucked it up, laced up, and got out there.  Then look for sympathy for something I did to myself that was so stupid…

Today, I head to the gym, for some light walking on the treadmill, try to lift a few weights.  But.  If it doesn’t work out, I can’t beat myself up with my old runners’ head.  This time, I’m smart.  And, I know that I will feel better at some point.

In the middle of a training program, some drama must certainly fall.  Whether it’s being sick, or some life changing event, we simply must deal with it the best way we can.  So I write the letter S (for sick, not rest) on my plan…for 8 days.  To signify that sometimes, life hands you the cards and your little plans take a back seat.

I hate when that happens.

 

Category:

injuries, Modesto Half Marathon

Thinner. Stronger. Older. Wiser.

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Today ends the first week of training for the Modesto Half Marathon.  Not having run more than 3 miles since about May of 2012, I was eager to get started.  I posted this plan a week or so ago, and just laid low.  On Sunday night, I realized that the plan I laid out actually started that day, so I laced up and went out for 2 miles in the cold.

This plan is different for me because I’m employing weights 3x a week, instead of my usual 6 days of Hanson running.  I lifted on Monday, Thursday and will tomorrow, because I’m after that elusive pull up.  Right now I can hang comfortably for 8 seconds.  I can do 3 assisted pull-ups.

For week 1, I ran 9 miles total.  I ran a long run of 4 on Wednesday, and my foot is fine.  I felt really good, but very slow and sluggish today.  I’m slowly (emphasize slowly) trying to take off the 8% of the weight I gained since my race weight day back in May.  (That’s 14 pounds).  Currently, I have 3 off already.  I gained a few here and there, then got the cast and boot …and there went 5 more.  At the holidays, 5 more came back on with unrestrained eating …So.  That is the quest.

Today as I was running, I was struggling.  I have no idea why, after a great run on Wednesday.  I credit my 4 other bloggy gal pals who have enthusiastically joined a weight loss challenge with spurring me on to better my body.  We are currently putting up our Thinspiration pictures, and a theme is emerging.  It’s not enough to be thin as I was when I raced in May.  It’s more important to be strong.  Thinner, stronger, older, wiser.

Thus ends Week 1.

Category:

13.1, half marathon, Modesto Half Marathon, running

718.87 miles

218635756881994079_lWidlGJc_cI have two more miles to run for 2012, to make 718.27.  I thought I had them on schedule for tomorrow.  Then, I looked at my plan.  I have had a wonderful yummy dinner.  And now.  I must go run.  THEN, this number will be the final for 2012:  718.27.

Today, my Half Marathon plan starts.  Modesto Half Marathon scheduled for March 24…first race back post stress fracture.  First REAL race…I did do a 5K this year, but I didn’t train for it.

So.  Here it is.  The path.  The plan.  And…here I am.  Celebrating my 54th New Years on the planet.  I’m coming back.  And I have a lot of work to do…

Time to lace up.  I’m out.

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Category:

13.1, Modesto Half Marathon

Olympic Love. August. Day 3.

There are enough irksome and troublesome things in life; aren’t things just as bad at the Olympic festival?  Aren’t you scorched by the fierce heat?  Aren’t you crushed in the crowd?  Isn’t it difficult to freshen yourself up?  Doesn’t the rain soak you to the skin?  Aren’t you bothered by the noise, the din and other nuisances?  But it seems to me that you are well able to bear and indeed gladly endure all this, when you think of the gripping spectacles that you will see.  ~Epictetus~ 1st-2nd century, A.D.

Today starts track and field.

Afghanistan women compete.  Dressed in head to toe.

But.  They get to.  They are allowed.

This is that time of the event.

When all of us.  The dreamers.

We compete for PRs, for new goals and distances.

Or we just fantasize about the time when once again.

We can lace up and toe the line.

Good luck to all the athletes!!

Where is the Olympic glory?  It is where you should always look for glory-within the individual. ~Will-Weber

Category:

marathon, olympics, running

this is the house that i built.

So, it’s been a week.  I have spent the days analyzing the race, the events that led up to the race, and ultimately, as I’ve always been taught…what part I did have in this, um, debacle.

There are no excuses for my epic fail at San Luis Obispo.  For the first time in a really long time, I owned this training plan, and have no one except myself to look toward to fix it for the next one, which is, by the way, Tucson Marathon in December of this year.  In that vein, I tried to look at the reasons my race turned out as it did…as a way of accurately assess the situation.

  1. There were two medical situations that happened that were out of my control.  About 8 weeks ago, I got a sinus infection that lasted a week, or 40 miles.  A week before the marathon, my foot was jacked.  I couldn’t walk.  My doctor told me not to run, and to get an X-Ray, which of course showed nothing, and now it’s just sore, but I may or may not get the MRI this week.  This is not an excuse.  However, it’s a reason.
  2. I was under some emotional distress of a personal nature by the time I toed the line at 6am last Sunday.  Nauseous, sad, scared…and by mile 4, I realized that none of those feelings would change anything, so I had a choice.  Bail or ask for guidance from my Higher Power…so I did.  Ask for help.  A fellow marathoner told me she was amazed I even got to the start line to begin with…
  3. At mile 11, I asked a runner who was coming back from the loop how far the turn around was.  Up until that time, my splits were good.  I was on pace for what I thought was a possible PR for sure, but I gave away my mental game at that moment.  I gave it to the guy who said, “It’s a half mile.”  It turned out to be 1.5 miles.  This is an excuse that I used for awhile…but I gave someone else the power.  Irritated with myself.
  4. Here’s a definite situation.  I thought I had run consistent 12:04 splits, and when I got home and uploaded the data, the Garmin said something like 12:35ish for 5 miles.  I seriously thought I was at my target pace, when in fact, much much slower.  So, two things need to happen.  I don’t know if it was a fluke, because it’s never happened, so I will be starting to pay real close attention to this.  It’s possible that I was so out of it that I simply wasn’t paying attention…but, I don’t know what happened.
  5. Mental Training.  I love the Hanson plan, and will continue to use it, but I think in addition, I need to journal, or do some mental/emotional training.  Must train my brain and my heart, because as you know, my legs were beyond ready.  They were perfectly ready.  I think it’s like one of those disaster trainings we have in the Red Cross.  I should have been prepared for anything…and, I wasn’t.
  6. Other people on the course.  Here is the joker in the deck.  You can never prepare for the people or things that will trigger you.  There was the girl I’ve run with before with her non-stop talking.  I put my head down, because I couldn’t engage in a conversation.  The team mentality.  I’m just not a part of the team when it comes to race day.  I subscribe to different training, and I feel self-centered and paranoid as I envision the conversations they are having.  I will say it was great to see my mentor at mile 15.  She was the reason I started team.  There was a man on the team that I ran with for 5 or 6 miles who was hurting.  I think I got sucked into that energy as well.  I allowed this to own my head.  My fault, completely.

My nutrition was perfect.  For the first time, I ran with my own Clif Shots and water.  I could have eaten more the day before…as I had water, some pasta, some desserts, and went to bed with very little in my stomach.  I’m happy with how I planned my bathroom breaks.  I had enough where-with-all to pack wipes, etc.  There were many many good elements here.

I had no excuse not to start the race.  I knew that not only would I start, but I would finish.  However, I knew that morning it would be ugly.  And, it was.  It definitely was not my day.  There are no excuses.  There are only reasons and plans to repair.

It’s like a hurricane comes and rips up the ground.  I can sit around and blame the hurricane, but that doesn’t help me right the foundation any faster.  Just fix it.  We can talk about the weather later, and how I could have or should have better prepared.  Meanwhile, the house needs to be re-built.

Category:

marathon, San Luis Obispo Marathon

Taper Madness X 5

Taper.

Taper. Madness.

I don’t have it yet, but I guarantee you, that if any of the last 4 marathons are predictors, it’s gonna happen in about 4 days or so.

Here’s what it looks like for me.

  1. Start worrying about the weather.  It’s April 22.  Is it April showers bring May flowers, or will it be extraordinarily, unseasonably windy/hot/cold/rainy?  I start to check the weather on my phone about 10 days before the marathon.  Obsessively.  Morning.  Night.  
  2. Germ Paranoia.   If you are coughing or sneezing, I race out of the room, and grab sanitizer.  At the end of the Meeting, when everyone else gets up to say the Lord’s Prayer and hold hands?  That’s the moment I’m going to the bathroom.
  3. Course Obsession.   I start looking at the course description.  San Luis Obispo says, “rolling hills and vineyards”, which means big ass hills and no shade.  I start looking at the Aid stations.  The loops.  Those tiny little numbers on the course map.  The arrows.  
  4. Fueling.  In the next two weeks, I’ll be deciding what to take.  This marathon gives Clif Shots.  The exact flavor I’ve been training with.  Do I bring more?  Do I bring my own water for the first time?  Do I rely on the abundance of nutrition they say they will have?  These thoughts will be with me all week.
  5. What to Wear.  Should I wear the black outfit that fits the best, or do I wear white because it’s going to be sunny? Which hat?  Which bra?  Will I remember everything on my list, and will I be able to have my cuts heal before race day.  What about my socks?  Which ones work?  I start to obsess about forgetting my shoes at home.
  6. Pacers.  Do I find the 5:15 pace guy and stay with him, or because I’ve trained solo, should I just run solo?  What happens if I find the pacer, then lose the pacer?  What if he’s a talker?  I can’t deal with that?  GAH.
  7. Race preparation.  Have I run enough?  Could I have done more?  What if my legs die at mile 16, 11, 22?  The only good part about this is knowing that I usually hit a mile 18 wall.  Every time.  I am starting to accept this.  During taper, I wonder if the plan I’ve used is okay.  Is it the right one?
  8. Will I be embarrassed?  The haters, and there always are some…will they be right?  Like, yeah, look at her thinking she can run another marathon at age 53.  Who does she think she is?  Will I bonk and forget how to run?  Will I cry?
16 days away.  This is just the beginning.
Happy Taper.

Category:

marathon

It’s That Time Again.

There are two times in the Hanson training cycle that brings me to my knees.  One is about half way through…when you realize, holy shit I have a lot more miles to run.  Just as soon as you get through that, and you continue to ramp up the voluminous miles week after week, you sort of accept that you are just.  Running.   A lot.  You do your life, but you do the miles…over and over again.  It’s really not a problem…because you know you have to do them.

The second time, and I recognize this…is right before the steep taper that is Hanson.  Short and sweet.  Less miles but you are still running 6 days a week, right up until that last week.  It’s weird, because you’d think you’d go a little crazy DURING taper.  But, in this plan, it’s right before taper…when you can barely make one. more. training. run.

Take this week and compare it to last week.  Last week, my tempo 10 miler in the rain in Clovis, was perfect.  Spot on Marathon Pace.  Wednesday, I did 16 miles.  I was tired…after running 10, 6, 6, and then 16.  I recognize this, because the whole goal of Hanson is to have you run on tired legs.  Yes.  Always.  On tired legs.  So, that 16 on Wednesday, I finally remembered it was like running on 22 miles of work.  It was hard, but I did it.  Mightily.

After a rest day…truly 48 hours of nothing, I was ready to go.  This Sunday’s tempo slayed me.  Every mile was hard.  It was sunny and windy, and I erroneously thought if I went after noon in the chill, it might be easier.   Not so much.  The wind was like, a 30 miles an hour wind.  And, every corner I turned, I was running into the wind.  It was almost as if the gods moved the wind right into me just the moment I turned.

That ten miler was hard.  Yesterday’s 5 miler was hard.  FIVE?  Really?  Today’s 8 was hard.  It’s all hard right now.  I have  the rest of this week to look forward to.  10, 5, 6…and then rest.

Three weeks away, and what a normal taper looks like is not so much these days.

I remember it well.

Category:

hanson trainining plan, marathon, San Luis Obispo Marathon

shaken.

I remember when I was a new runner.  I blogged about every. single. run.  The 3 milers, the 5 milers, all of them.  It’s been a long time since I did that, and hardly ever in this training cycle.

Today though.  Today simply must be acknowledged.  I had a 16 miler on the plan, and I had been doing some pretty decent runs since I recovered from the upper respiratory illness.  In fact, I’m still on antibiotics.  However, I am so not a fan of the long run.  I don’t care that they are important.  I dread them.

I carb loaded last night.  Like, a lot.  Not overkill, but I really wanted to nail this run.  My first step out the door should have been a huge sign to me.  I was slow.  Tired.  But.  Since this is a LSD run, I had no fear.  It’s supposed to be long.  Slow.

At mile 1, I stopped at the gym, where a long time friend…the friend who helped me see the truth in 2007…she was there and said “Oh My God…we need to catch up…LOTS going on…right?”  And honestly.  I’m happy.  It’s fine.  However, it’s not the way I wanted to start this run.

Mile 2 & 3 took me over the green bridge.  I was on my way to Modesto, and had planned to run 8 out and back.  At mile 4, at the end of the trail, there was a LOT of mud.  Or a huge puddle.  I chose to turn around and come back.

I was okay at mile 5 and had a restroom stop and was not in the mood to keep running.  I realized I was at that moment that you know you have a helluva long way to go to NOT be in the mood.  I ran through Spring Creek, and longed for the Garmin (hereby known as Nuke LaLoosh) to tell me I was in the single digits, but no.  On and on this went.  I weaved in and out of neighborhoods.

Did I mention it was raining and windy?  Like, the whole run?  At mile 7, it stopped, but started again at mile 7.5.  Wind, rain, bad music on the iPod.  More wind and cold.  My shirt was heavy with water.  My hat was dripping.  My gloves and arm sleeves were heavy.  It was ugly, people.

I got to Mistlin Park, and was just at halfway, and depressed.  My legs were lead already.  How did this happen?  This training cycle has been KICKASS and I have never felt better.  I took my second Clif Shot and was running on bricks, and it was here I stopped and stretched.  My legs were wooden boards, and I was hurting.  Plus.  Did I mention the rain?

I got to the truck stop, very slowly.  I smiled at one of those homeless dudes with a cardboard sign.  It was really my only contact with human life the whole run.  I got into town, resigned to 5+ more miles.  Trying to suck it up.  At the corner, I crossed with the light, just as a dude texting in his lap rolled into the intersection.  He nearly hit me.  I stopped, and raised my arms in disgust.  He slowly drove by me and flipped me off.  I stopped in the intersection as he burned out.  In the rain.  Total tool.

On and on this went.  Running.  Walking.  Drinking water.  on and on and on.  I got to the golf course, and started to cry when Dolly Parton’s, “I Will Always Love You.” came on the iPod.  This was the song that was playing the last time I saw my Granny.  Right before she died, I was looking into her eyes, and it was playing in the hospital, and I started crying and she held my hand and said “I love you Linny.”  So, I start crying right on the trail.  Wailing. I miss her.  And, in most marathons at about mile 20, I imagine she says to all her brothers, “Ok, get up and stop playing cards.  Linny needs us.”  And I imagine her with her broom and blowing me on my way.  Sorta like the wind.   It helps.

At one point, I thought about why I’m running.  I thought about my Grandpa.  How much I loved him.  I thought of all the people who are dealing with cancer…and you know what?  It didn’t help.  I was knee deep in self pity.

2.5 more miles to go and I want to cry.  Third Clif Shot.  This is misery.  My feet were numb and wet, and I was remembering the LA Marathon, and how the hell did I do that?  I  finally turn down my street.  I had been at a 13:25 pace for a little while, what with all the walking.  But.  With every training run in this cycle, I do two things.  I never walk hills, and I always sprint the last .2, just for that last push in a marathon.  You know.  When you see mile 26, there is still so much further (farther?) to go.

I nearly threw my Nuke LaLoosh in the garbage.  I could barely walk.  I pounded down a cup of chocolate milk, and made a Nuun.  A bowl of spaghetti later, a nice conversation and texts from friends…but the best of all…a text from Harley Guy.

Me:  <3

Him: <3 Back

Me:   Even though I’m a shit runner?

Him:  Baby, you are not a shit runner, but I would love you if you were.

I feel terribly shaken.  The only thing worse is knowing that I have to do 7 more miles tomorrow.  And the day after and the day after…I’m hoping my mood…and my legs improve.

Category:

marathon, running, San Luis Obispo Marathon

determination, dedication, self-discipline, effort

There comes a point in every marathon training where my head kicks in and says, “What are you thinking?”  It’s somewhere in the middle, when I have lots of days behind me, and lots of runs in front of me.  My head starts barking at me with old noise.  The chatter that says, you should have taken this road or you shouldn’t have done that.   You’re old, and you’re never going to bq at this rate…blah blah blah…

Except.  Not this time.  This time, I’m clear about what I have to do, how much I’ve done, and how much more there is to do.  I’m incredibly confident.  I am imagining a PR in San Luis Obispo.   And, it’s not some wish.  I am working, and it shows.  15 pounds gone, 330 miles run since January.  I am doing the work.

So…on Tuesday, when I was feeling these aches, I should have simply gone to the doctor.  Because, I knew.  I knew that above the neck, you can run…below the neck, not so much.  You can read about running sick here.  I knew this.  However, my symptoms were up above AND in my chest.

I finally went to the doctor today, when I should have gone on Wednesday.  The doctor said I have an upper respiratory infection, and I need 10 days of antibiotics.  I am not to run until 48 hours have passed with medicine.

On the one hand, I’m irritated that now I will have lost 40 miles on the training.  On the other hand, there’s something about a doctor saying YES you can run, or NO don’t run, that sort of legitimizes the condition.  It’s having a medical note that says, “she’s not faking this!  I’m a real doctor, and I diagnosed this.”

It’s gorgeous here in NORCAL.  So yeah.  I’m not thrilled about not running.  But.  Tuesday.  48 hours from now.  I will lace up and get out there.  I’ve lost a week, but gained some wisdom.  I can’t wait to run, and I’ve not felt this for awhile.  I still can nail my goals.  I have 3 16 milers left in this cycle, and I will be fine.

I don’t have to live out my history.  My imagination is on fire, and my goals are very much in reach.

Category:

injuries, marathon

why i love leap year and wall calendars.

Today was a planned 16 mile run.  I went to bed feeling like something was going to beat me down, and by 5am that feeling was confirmed.  It’s a sore throat, but achy all over.  It’s not sneezy breezy, but just general can’t drag my body anywhere because there’s lead in my legs.  And, not from running.

Today is Leap Year.  It’s the day that women get to propose, but only if you’re Irish, *so I’m told*…but it’s the cancellation of a run day.  An LSD run day, which is SO important.  If I missed a run in the old days, I would try to shove those miles in somewhere.  I would panic until the miles were “made up” after an illness.

However, much like missing work, you have some stuff to catch up on, but you really have 80 emails that don’t even really apply to you anymore, so you do the best you can with today’s tasks, and keep on doing the next task that comes your way.

So it is with today.  I will rest until I lose this bug.  If not today, then tomorrow.  Because.  I know in Marathon training, if you aren’t listening to your body now, you won’t be listening at Mile 20.

Oh.  And I love my $2 wall calendar.  Those numbers circled?  The miles I ran each day.  Pretty proud.  140.41 for the month.  2 months until the marathon, and I’m right where I should be.

Leap Year couldn’t have come at a better time.

Category:

hanson, injuries, marathon

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