Another Half

On Sunday, I'll be running my second half marathon. It seems like just yesterday I was completing my first.

Now, we're just a few short weeks away from my full marathon (gulp).

My first Half wasn't exactly the greatest experience, but, I have high hopes for this one.

I'm pretty certain I can PR, even if just by a few seconds (but, I'd like to shave minutes off my time). The course I ran last time was mostly flat (bonus), but, really mentally challenging. This one is hilly, but, pretty basic in that it's a loop for the most part--so, it shouldn't be too emotionally hard on me. Plus, I know the course pretty well--I run it a lot with my running group (bonus). And, there are pace groups. I'm debating which one I want to plant myself with--or, how hard I want to push it. I think I want to push it hard. We'll see. If I start out in between the two (which, I hope will work) I can then adjust my pace as needed per how I feel, etc.

I've been battling a bum IT band this week, so, I haven't gotten the miles I need, but, I know I can do this. I love going out there, giving it all I've got and running.

This isn't the time to play catch up with a friend, no, no, this is my time to run. To prove to myself I can do it. And get psyched for November 22 and 26.2 miles.

Whoot!

Now, I just need to pick out my race day clothing, and we're good to go.

Happy Halloween!

I'll be runnin' off the candy!

20 miles--DONE

So, I was supposed to run my 20 miles two weeks ago, but, that didn't happen. It just wasn't in the cards. It wasn't going to happen no matter what I did. I did my pre run prep correctly, it was just not 'my' day. Woke up fighting a cold (still am) and soooo tired. I barely made it to our meet up location. My eyes were heavy and I just wanted to sleep. I even though to myself 'if I turn around now, no one would notice'--ha, that's funny, I would notice.

I didn't turn around, but, I didn't make it to 20. I did 18.31--and it hurt like all hell. I was flippin' done when I hit 18. I'm noticing that I hit my 'wall' around 16 which is a total pain in the you know what because um, that's 10.2 miles left, missy. Not good.

This last Saturday, this was going to be my day. Damnit.

My group had 17 on their schedule, so, I knew I could get past my wall at 16 because they'd be with me. Sure enough, I did hit the wall at 16, but, it was much easier to overcome than usual, and I credit my awesome running group.

The miles were hard. Every single one of them. OK, maybe not the first 2-3. We didn't stop for water until 4.5 and of course I have a fuel belt, but, I like to stop and drink when I can. I knew it was going to be a long day, so, I started with the fuel waaaay early into the run at 4.5 miles. I usually don't until 8-10, but, better fuel up when I could. I'm also fairly certain we ran through a waterstop at some point, considering I remember eating a shot block while running--I rarely, rarely do this. Mainly because the zipper on my fuel belt hates me and I cannot re-zip while running, just can't!

It was a super hilly course, but, I felt better than the week before and I was motivated to kick some hill butt. And a ton of it is all mental. I am not my best cheerleader. Good thing my running group is awesome like that. When I started to waiver, someone would hang back with me and encourage me, reminding me that I could do it, and the constant encouragement of 'you'll do great in your marathon' was awesome. I'm actually really bummed I won't be running with them for their marathon, but, that's OK. Maybe next year.

The last 3 miles were long. A friend of mine decided to suck it up and run with me, so I wouldn't finish alone--plus, she's 2 weeks away from her marathon and hadn't done a 20 miler, so, it was good for us both. We were tired, and slow and it was getting late in the day at this point. This was also TX/OU weekend and that was a huge bummer because we heard the fly over as we were finishing--not gonna make it home to watch kick-off! But, we did it together. We walked a bit when we had to, but towards the end I pushed us to finish strong.

And we did. When my Garmin beeped at 20, I really didn't know what to do. Cry? Scream? I smiled huge and told her 'we did it'. And we did.

We re-fuled with chocolate milk and Powerade at the clubhouse (Powerade has never tasted so good!) and said our goodbyes. I won't see her until after her marathon, and I'm totally bummed, but, I'm so grateful to her.

20 miles is hard. No matter how much of a conditioned athlete you are--and I'm not, trust me, but, I mean, 20 miles is far, that's a long way to run no matter how fast or slow you run it--that's a damn long way. I know it's still a 10k short of a marathon, but, I know I can finish. Sure, my hopes for a decent time were slashed when I got hurt earlier this year, but, I don't care. I just can't wait to finish and have that medal around my neck. I run for bling, it's true.

22 this weekend. YIKES.

PS. We have peanut butter again. After 20 miles I bought like 4 things of PB. Don't take a hungry girl to the grocery store. It's not smart.

20 miler

I've got a 20 miler this weekend. That scares me beyond what words can describe. Especailly since I'm pretty sure my 15k race over the weekend re-injured my hip and calf. AWESOME.

I've only run once this week and have been stretching, and the whole shebang, so, hopefully, I can handle the 20 miles.

I've got a recovery massage scheduled for the afternoon, so, I'm not overly worried about the pain. I'm just worried about the actual running. Jeezus. 20 miles.

Yikes.

But, I handled 18 like a champ. And I know that once I hit 20, it's pretty much all downhill from there.

I just have to remember to run sloooooow. I'm never going to be fast, and that's OK. A slow happy runner is better and a fast, injured and angry runner (I know because I've been both).

So, wish me luck.

It's going to be a long time out there.

But so totally worth it.

I'll be back to brag on Monday.

And also tell you how I ran a 15k with my friend rather than charging with my iPod. Not my smartest move, but, at the same time, one of the best races ever.

I heart running.

I'm also getting more and more excited about Bandera and Catalina--although they are 2010 races, I almost signed up for a trail run next weekend, but, it was only 150 runners and it was full--bummer! 2010 will be my trail running year. Whoot!

PS. We're almost out of peanut butter at my house. It's like Defcon 5. No joke.

18 miles--are you serious?

There really aren't words to describe the feelings that flooded me once I got back into my car after running 18 miles. Besides maybe, elation. I wanted to cry. I wanted to gleefully jump into my husband's arms (he was gone all day!). I just wanted to jump for joy. But, clearly, jumping wasn't an option!

I'm not fast, I never claimed to be, and I doubt I'll ever qualify for Boston. If nothing else, I am determined.

One year ago, I was barely able to power through 4 miles and was scared to death of anything beyond 6 (the most I'd done in years)

I set out to run my half marathon in August, and started "training" in February. Knowing that I had plenty of time to get in shape....or back out, as needed.

As running became easier, and I got more confident, I decided to run a marathon. Three days before my 25th birthday--I woul run a marathon on November 22nd, 2009.

In June, when I started by first double digit runs, the marathon seemed so doable, almost easy. Then, I got hurt. And couldn't run. Couldn't run fast, couldn't run far. Couldn't run period.

I worried myself sick over it. I lost my speed. I lost my endurance. It was terrible.

It's been a long road--just getting back to 16(.25!) last week was a miracle, and pounding out 18 this weekend was insane.

The first 14 miles were very hilly (and it's the route for an upcoming half, so, yippee, I know what to expect). I couldn't charge the hills, I was tired, I wanted to quit--as in not even run the damn marathon.

I cried. (I'll admit it)

I felt sorry for myself.

But, when I had to leave my group and power on alone (my usual running buddy was out of town), and I was really on my own, that's when the mental power kicked in. I had to do it. I had to. I couldn't face myself if I didn't.

I popped a blister on my toe at about 14.5 which suuuucked and I wanted to turn around. But, what if a blister pops in the marathon? I can't quit. So, I didn't.

And after 18 miles of torture, I was finished.

My feet hurt, my legs hurt, my back hurt, I was insanely sweaty--but, I had done something. Something huge.

I can't believe I can run 18 miles. I can't believe that in less than 2 months I will run a marathon. Something only .1% of Americans will ever do.

If that's not motivation, I don't know what is.

Post ridiculously long shower, the sister in law and I hit up Jason's Deli for some delish lunch (I never eat out for lunch on the weekends!) and some shopping. We did some damage at Nordstrom, Antrho and Target.

My legs weren't nearly as sore on Sunday as they were after my 16 miler, which leads me to believe that shopping is best recovery method. Obviously.

I have a race this Saturday. I'm supposed to do 20 miles, but, I think a taped week sounds better--plus, it's a 10 mile race. I haven't raced since my half. I'm ready to race.

The 20 miles aren't going anywhere.

October 10th. Yikes. I'm already scared of that date. But, I can do it. Just as I made it to 18, I'll make it to 20.

And eventually 26.2

Ahhhh!!

And, because it's Monday, I busted out the peanut butter for breakfast this morning. Mmm, pb and an English muffin.

No wonder I ran 6.27 miles at lunch--it's all about the food.

Running for Jack

On Saturday morning, I ventured out for my second ever 16 miler. I had planned to run to my group's meet up spot and run the remaining 10 miles with my friends running group--but, since it's now dark until 7 AM, I decided that running 6 miles in the dark (even with a headlamp!) in the early morning hours might not be the safest, so, the husband dropped me off at the meet up point (thanks for waking up so early!) and I ran about 5.5 miles with my friend and his group.

I was slowing him down (he only had t0 run 10 and therefor could maintain a faster pace--I chose slow and steady--hey, it wins the race and prevents injury), so, we agreed to ditch each other and he was off while I took a quick break for some fuel.

I don't recommend running long distances alone, and I really did want to finish with someone, or at least have some motivation for the majority of the run, but, after a really bad week at work, I just wanted to have some alone time. And I ended up having several hours of it!

I somehow managed to get stuck in a race that was going on, which was comical if nothing else because there were so many runners it was impossible to run on the road, so, I just stopped and cheered them on for a few minutes--I got to see my pace leader and several of my running buddies kicking major booty, so, it was fun.

At the turnaround point, I was exhuasted. My legs hurt, my back was killing me, I was tired and hungry. I didn't have my cell phone, so, I couldn't call my husband to come pick me up (blessing in disguise because believe you me, I would have called), and was far enough away from my house that if I didn't run home, it would be Sunday by the time I made it!

I took an extended break a little past mile 14 at a water fountain and stretched, ate some shot blocks and drank some water. I knew I could finish. I'd done it once before, I could it again.

Around mile 15, my legs went completely numb--I could not really feel them anymore and everything was just a blur. I crancked my iPod and kept going--so loud that I couldn't hear the mile beep on my Garmin (genius).

As I pounded on, I just kept reminding myself that this was nothing. This was nothing compared to what so many others will go through in their lives--or go through on a daily basis. I thought about Jack and running for him in Catalina, I thought about his parents and how challenging it is raising a child with special needs. I thought about his dad, who is going to run 60 marathons in 2010 to raise money and awareness for autism. I knew that what I was feeling was nothing compared to what Jack must face every single day.

And I kept going.

To 16.25.

And then I promptly passed out on my living room floor (not really).

As my first marathon is only 2 months and 1 day away (I'm not freaking out or anything--ha!), I realize that I've been focusing so much on "me" with this. I'm injured, I'm tired, I'm not running--blah, blah. Yes, I got hurt, yes, it totally sucked, yes I was depressed, yes, I gained weight, yes I couldn't run--but, you know what, I took care of myself and hopefully that is all behind me. I need to take care of myself because in March, I will be running for Jack. And that's all that matters. If it takes me 7 hours to cross that damn finish line, I don't care. If I have to walk, I don't care. I made a commitment to myself (to finish a marathon by my birthday) and to Jack.

And you know what? I'll fulfill them both.

Stop the presses

Y'all, I ran today.

Which is earth shattering considering the month of August was peppered with illness and injury (I'm still battling whatever this condition I have is--landed me in the damn ER last week), so, September is looking good so far.

I managed 9.4 miles on Saturday with my friend and his group. Albeit, it was the slowest I have ran in probably at least a year, which was mildly embarrassing, but, it was pain free. I stopped at 9.4 because that was near my house and I had 12 on my schedule, but, knew I couldn't make it. Better safe than sorry (the Little Red Runner of two months ago would have said that, but, she's clearly the reason I'm battling injury now!).

It was fantastic. It was early (we met at 5:30). It was cool. It was wonderful. I had to push myself to even barely keep up with them, which meant very few walk breaks.

I felt great the entire day--no pain!

On Monday morning, I hit snooze about 500 times before peeling myself out of bed and going for a run. Initially, I had debated signing up for a 10k on my favorite course, but, it didn't start until 8 and the race is in a town 30 minutes away, which meant I would be saying goodbye to my morning. Of course, this had me thinking I should run my own 10k. Funny story. I tried to increase my speed (again, funny story), and was kicking my own ass by mile 2. I finished 4.15 hard miles and called it a day. Went home, turned on the Food Network and did 30 minutes of lower body strength moves. This is growth people! Growth. I would have just pushed through and forced myself to do the additional miles, no matter how tired I was or how much pain I was in. This my friends, is stupid. Don't do it. It leads to injury. I should know. I did it.

(plus, I didn't fuel correctly before my run and felt like I was going to puke the entire time, so, that made things ultra awesome)

I spent a few days sick this week, so, running today was absolutely glorious. I even called my husband to tell him.

No, it wasn't fast. No, it wasn't on my beloved trail. But, it was running. What started as "just make it 30 minutes" soon became "make it a 5 mile tempo run" which evolved into 5.5, then, an even 6.

It felt good.

And, hopefully ::knocks on wood:: I might just be, back in the game.

As they say.

Taking a break

I've got a race on my schedule for tomorrow. It's a 5 miler with breakfast afterwards. Sounds awesome in theory. I even promised a friend I'd run it with him. Totally excited to run with him, we haven't run together since our 4th of July 10k.

But.

But.

But.

I'm just not feelin' it. And not in a "I don't want to run" type of way, no, I'm just over this rigid structure I've been on with my training group (which my husband finds wildly hilarious because I am a very structured person).

The thing I love about running is that you can just go--just go and do it.

For me, the highlight was Saturday mornings was quietly shutting my front door, running down to the trail and just thump thump thumping down the trail with my music and the outdoors. I never really had a set route, only the miles I needed to get in and I knew the trail well enough to know the mile markers. I was free.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love my training group. They are a fabulous group of people and I've made some great friends. Having the encouragement on long runs is great.

But sometimes, I just want to go. I don't want to drive 15 minutes, fight for a parking spot (at 5:45 AM, mind you) then wait around until after 6 when we head out.

I've had to take the last two weeks off running (I did manage a 14 miler last Saturday), which was been due to injury and illness, so, I know I won't be on my A Game tomorrow. Plus, we're supposed to run 6 miles before the race. I don't know about you, but, running 6 miles, then hanging out for 45 minutes before the race starts and then racing 5 miles just doesn't sound enjoyable to me. Sure, it would push me, because I've never "run" then "raced" before, but, as I am battling illness and injury, it doesn't really seem smart either.

No, instead, I think tomorrow I will ditch out on my running group and join a colleague of mine to run with his friends.

For a gal who needs to remember why she runs in the first place, a change of scenery may be just the ticket.

I'm excited. Excited to get back to my trail. Excited to meet new people.

Excited to remember why I love running.

Mostly, I'm excited because right now, my calf doesn't hurt.

I don't know how far I'll make it (I haven't done anything this week--no spinning, no running, nothing), I don't know how fast I'll go. But, that's OK. I'm looking forward to running. And that's really all that matters.