20 Mile Running Review

I was a little relieved when Saturday finally showed up this past week.  I had been looking at the day from afar, analyzing, considering, thinking, and I may have been a little anxious as well.  My 20 mile training run was to be done on this Saturday, and unlike all of my other 20 milers before this one, I had something to prove to myself. 

Usually, when approaching the longer runs in my marathon training (anywhere from 15-20 miles), I do not feel any pressure at all.  I'm usually running with a few friends, I have aid along the way, and the goal is to simply cover the mileage.  The last month or so, however, I have been approaching these longer runs a bit differently.  In order to run a faster marathon, to be prepared physically and mentally, I wanted these longer runs to be faster as well. 

I decided to do these runs alone and to remain focused throughout on the pace.  I ran a 15 miler, an 18 miler, and another 15 before it was time to approach the 20.  And then the doubt began to creep in.  Can I really run 20 miles under a 9 minute pace?  I'd never done it before.  And my fastest marathon to date was around a 9:07 pace.  Still, I meant to try, and I hoped that my previous long runs were a good sign.

My friend Shannon was coming to run the first 12 with me.  This was to be her long run in her half-marathon training.  She knew I was pushing my pace down and she promised she would be okay if I needed to run ahead.  I suspected she would have no trouble keeping up, but I promised to run my pace no matter what. 

I was a little concerned that I might want to talk with her instead of pushing the pace, but as it turned out we were able to do both.  The 12 miles we ran together seemed to fly by and we held an average of 8:44 pace.  When I dropped her off at my house, I was sad to see her go.  I took a sip of water and gatorade and then headed back out again to complete the last 8. 

For some reason it got hard quickly.  My pace began to drop to 8:50-9:00 and despite my efforts, I could not get it to go back down.  I was tired, plain and simple, and I began to despair a little bit.  I tried to figure out why this run seemed so much harder than the others.  The temperature was much warmer than what I'd been running in, reaching 60+ degrees before the run was over (although I must admit, I loved running in short sleeves and shorts with the sun on my skin!).  I did not fuel at all, and with the warmer temps, I think that played a role.  I had not taken a day off since the fast 15 miler the previous Saturday, and I could tell my body was beginning to revolt against this lack of rest.

Still, when I finished the run my average pace was 8:50 and I was very pleased.  I wish I hadn't run out of steam for the last bit, but it hadn't seemed to hurt the pace too badly and the goal had been achieved.  I'd wanted to run 20 miles under 9 minute pace and I'd done it.  

I did a slow, watch-less 3 miles on Sunday afternoon, and while my legs complained a little, it felt good to move.  Today I am planning a slow and easy 5.4 miler (to give me an even 220 for the month).  Tuesday through Thursday I will rev it back up, but Friday I will rest.  Saturday will be a 10 miler (maybe) and then I will REALLY rest.  I never thought I'd have an issue with taking time off of running, but I do.  I want to run every day.  Still, I know getting rest is a major part in a strong training plan, and I've got to incorporate some if I want to be fresh and ready on race day.

Ah, race day.  I remember the disappointment of St. Louis.  And I remember promising that I would stand at that start line once again  That I would lace up my tennis shoes and prepare to meet the road once again, ready to race that 26.2 miles.  Two weeks and I will be there.

Beautiful Beasts and Mileage

The other day I was driving to work listening to the radio, and I heard about a contest they were holding.  If participants would send in a photograph of themselves and a pet, they had the opportunity to win free tickets to see "Beauty and the Beast" at the Von Braun Center and dinner for two at a place called Brix Wine and Tapas. I had no idea "Beauty and the Beast" was coming to Huntsville and I knew I wanted to see it.  It is my most favorite Disney Movie of all time...he gives her a library for Heaven's sake! I had no issue with purchasing the tickets myself, but if I could get them for free that would be even better. 

So, I went home and uploaded a picture of me and my "beast" to the radio station's website.  I then sent the link to all of my friends and family and asked them to vote for my picture. The three top photos with the most votes would win tickets. 

I found out on Monday that the Chancellor and I took third place.  I was so pumped!  This will be a FREE date night with my one true love (who may not be as excited as I am, but he is still sweetly willing to take me) to a new restaurant and the theater.  I feel so cultured.  Not to mention blessed by a bunch of fun friends in my life who humor my occasional nuttiness. 

Then, the next morning it will be time to hit the mileage.  The big 2-0.  I don't know why, but running that distance alone just seems...intimidating.  I realize I am training to run even more than that, but there is just something about stepping out your front door to run not 5, not even 10, but 20 miles!  I may have a friend to join me for the first 12 and that will help me break it up nicely, but she has made me promise to run on if I need to hold a faster pace.  I think it is this pace I want to hold that influences my feelings of intimidation.  I would like to hold it under 9 minute pace.  I do not think I have EVER completed a long training run at this pace.  It would not only help me to be physically ready for a PR marathon, but it would help me mentally believe I can do it. 

So I've got a fun and full weekend ahead.  As for the beast who helped me win the contest, he will be content to nap on his warm bed for most of it. 

Down to the Wire

This week will be my last week of intense marathon training.  After Sunday, I will begin a semi-taper (about 5-8 miles a day, possibly skipping a day or two).  Then the week before the marathon I will taper a bit more (about 3-5 miles a day, possibly skipping a day or two).  Weather permitting, my dog, Chance, will get to accompany me for these shorter runs. 

The weather of late has not been the most conducive for quality marathon training.  It has been really cold (for the south), rainy, snowy and icy.  And while the weekends have been pleasant enough for some great long runs, my weekly mileage totals have not quite been what I'd hoped.  Not bad, mind you, but I was planning on a bit more.  And maybe these lower mileage numbers during the week (40s and low 50s) have made for some more quality long runs...

Either way, this week I decided weather be hanged!  If I wanted the miles I had to get out there and get them no matter what elements I had to face.  And while some of the elements were less than ideal, I found that I actually enjoyed myself.

I keep a little journal online with a comment or two about each run.  I might comment on the weather, how I felt during the run, or any little experience that happened along the way- usually just a sentence or two.  Here is the input from this week so far.

Saturday, January 22
15 miles, 2:08:40, 8:34 pace
YAAAAAHOOOOOO!  Great 15 miler despite an ankle roll 3 miles in.  How exciting!  (I was pumped about my pace and in a hurry to get a hot shower).

Sunday, January 23
7 miles, 57:12, 8:10 pace
Late afternoon run around the hood.  Was tired at first and quads complained due to yesterday's 15 miler, but the last two miles were 7:59 and 7:18.  DUDE!  I think if I have that much to give in the last mile, I should be able to give more during the earlier miles....

Monday, January 24
6 miles, 59:47, 9:57 pace
Early morning run with the girls. Definitely feeling the fatigue from the weekend's runs and my ankle was sore as well.  I don't think it had time to warm up before I ran on it like yesterday.

Tuesday, January 25
8 miles, 1:05:23, 8:10 pace
Chilly afternoon run in the rain.  Despite the weather, I had a good time pushing the pace.  Last two miles were 7:53 and 7:28.

Wednesday, January 26
5.3 miles, 48:57, 9:14 pace
Slow morning run through the flurries.  That part was kind of fun except when they pegged me in they eyeballs.  Legs were seriously tired, so I focused on just running. 

Tomorrow I'm planning a morning run with a friend.  According to weather.com, it should be cold but clear.  I can handle that.  We will shoot for 8-10 miles, probably somewhere between 9:00-10:00 minute pace maybe hitting a hard hill or two (depending on the state of my friend who just completed the Mountain Mist 50k).

Friday will be an easier day in preparation for the big 20 miler on Saturday.  I'm still throwing around ideas for what I want to do with Sunday.  I want it to be somewhat challenging whether the run is shorter and faster or longer and...whatever I can give. Then Monday I will rest, doing something short and easy, letting the pace be whatever my legs choose to do.

I'm really excited about this marathon.  It was sort of a last minute decision, and I have tried not to freak myself out by filling my mind with goal finishing times (although to be honest, I have thought about it and pondered different race strategies).  I am going to run a smart race, unlike the one I ran in St. Louis last year, but I will talk about my strategy later.  For now, I am excited, determined and trying to stay focused on my training plan despite what the weather has to say about it.

Rocks in the Sidewalk and Racing Cheerleaders

Lolo Jones, Olympic Hurdler

Yesterday's 15 miler was a huge success with only one minor hiccup.  My overall pace was 8:34 and that was so very exciting, but at mile three I stepped on a rock in the sidewalk and rolled my ankle.  I was approaching an entrance into a shopping center and a car was turning in from the other side.  I did not think they were going to let me go across first, so I began to slow down and that is when it happened.  My right foot landed on a rock in the sidewalk and I almost went all the way down.  I caught myself with my left leg and then hobbled back to the sidewalk.

I sat down on the grass for a minute and tried to catch my breath.  The initial pain was sharp, but it subsided quickly.  I sat moving my ankle, glaring at the rock in the middle of the sidewalk.  I considered running back home, but I wanted my 15 miles.  I stood up, threw the rock onto the grass and started to run again.  If it was bad, I would shorten my run to 12 miles instead.

This happens a few times a year due to the first horrible sprain that weakened my ankle for good.  As I continued on my run I thought back to that very first time...the pain, the embarrassment, the circumstances...

I was a sophomore in high school and I was on the track team.  I was never a fan of the 1 mile in track or even the 2 mile in cross country.  I wasn't very fast, but I could run a long time (about 6 - 10 miles by that point).  Usually after practice, if I did not feel that I'd gotten enough out of it, I would go to the local running park and do some more.  We had a very nice coach, but he was a football coach, and I don't think he really knew how to make us better runners.  The only thing I remember him teaching me was to pump my arms more.

So, in my sophomore year, I chose the 300 hurdles instead of the mile because it seemed more challenging.  It seemed that you had to have endurance to not only run, but leap, and that was something I had.  My coach was game (maybe foolishly so) and I became a 300 hurdler along with 2 other girls and a few guys.

We practiced hard.  One of the more experienced hurdlers was also a cheerleader and her form was perfect.  One of the rules of hurdling was to spend as little time in the air as possible. The leap was to be quick and short.  The right leg lifted straight in front and the left leg bent to the side of the runner (those who lead with the right leg anyway) moving in an arc-like motion to propel them quickly forward.  We practiced that left leg move quite a bit.

Being that I was brand new to the sport of hurdling, I spent a long time up in the air.  I could've eaten a sandwich while up there.  The pictures are hilarious and maybe someone should have recruited me for basketball instead.  I flew WAY above the hurdle, arms splayed, right leg somewhat straight out in front of me, with my left leg under me more than to my side.  

Still, as time went by, I began to improve.  My air time began to shorten and before long, I was running neck and neck with the cheerleader (who uttered expletives every time she jumped). 

One day during practice the coach came over to me and told me he wanted me doing the 100's too.  These freaked me out.  They were higher and closer together.  I wasn't sure I could do it.  He and I stayed late after track practice, and he worked with me until I was comfortable with them.  The next day I would be running the 300s and the 100s at the track meet.

I went home that afternoon and I was tired.  My legs were unbelievably sore and I was worried they would hurt my performance in the meet.  I thought the best plan was to do a little jog around the neighborhood and loosen them up, and then soak in the tub for a bit.  I grabbed my Sony Walkman, put in my favorite cassette tape (yes, cassette tape) and started to slowly jog down the road.

I began to day dream about the track meet the next day.  I was nervous and excited.  I had some church friends who were going to come watch my meet, and my ex-boyfriend who I was continually trying to impress might also be there.  And all of a sudden I was down. My Walkman hit the ground and the batteries went flying.  I landed hard on my knees, and I felt such pain in my right ankle that I could not breathe.

Making a whimpering sound, I crawled around on the street collecting my batteries and then I tried to stand.  The pain was excruciating.  I became panicked.  What in the world had I done?  I looked at the road and right at the curb, the road cut off sharply and there was a drop to the ground below. I had simply stepped off the curb, landing with all of my weight on my ankle.

I hobbled home.  It was only about 2 tenths of a mile, but it felt like 10.  I was shaking and sobbing when I unlocked the door to an empty house.  Mom was out running errands and Dad was teaching a night class.  I sat on the couch and gingerly took off my right shoe.  I wanted to scream.  It looked as if someone had put a tennis ball in my ankle.  It was huge and grotesque.  (I am not exaggerating, Mom almost threw up).

I called my friend who was in town from college.  He was an athlete and I thought he might know what to do.  When he answered, I was so hysterical he thought I was joking, but he soon hurried over when he realized I was not.

Both of my knees were bloody, so I attempted to clean them up before he got there.  He put my foot on ice and we sat there waiting for Mom to get home.  When she did, her eyes got wide.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" she said gaping at my deformed foot.

I explained and we figured the best course of action was to go to the hospital to see if I'd broken it.  I had not, it was a sprain, but they said that could sometimes be worse.  They made a partial cast and wrapped an ace bandage around it instructing me to wear it even when I slept.  They also asked when my last tetanus shot had been, and since it had lapsed, they figured they'd address that as well.  At that point, I asked Mom if we could just leave, promising not to walk on my ankle, but she said no. 

So, I got a tetanus shot, a cast on my leg, and as I sat there waiting for the cast to dry, I realized I would not be running in the track meet the next day.  Tears began to run down my face as Mom assured me it would be okay.  I was given a pair of crutches and instruction on how to use them. 

Sleeping that night was nearly impossible.  My foot ached and my arm ached and my heart ached too.  How was I going to explain this to Coach Newby?  Was he going to be mad?  Would I ever be able to run again?  And I had to go to school tomorrow with crutches.  Everyone was going to look at me!  Oh the worries of a teenager.  I had them all in spades that night.

The next morning I almost passed out in the shower due to a sore arm and foot.  I sat down, waiting for it to pass and thought this was NOT a great start to the day.  Mom took me to a doughnut shop before school and I almost fell maneuvering to a table.  One of Mom's friends caught me and helped me sit down. 

Once at school, I avoided the gym like the plague.  Going from class to class was challenging though, and after Latin, who should offer to help me but my ex-boyfriend.  The one I was supposed to impress that afternoon with my amazing hurdling skills.  He was very nice and I was very embarrassed as we made our way to my next class, everyone staring (or so I perceived).

By the end of the day, I went to Mom's office (she was a guidance counselor at my high school) and Coach Newby was there. 

"I heard what happened," he said, but there was no anger in his voice.  He did wonder how I'd managed to hurt myself between practice late yesterday afternoon and today.  He patted me on the shoulder and told me to heal quickly and that was that.

I went home and my two friends from church who were supposed to come see me run, came over.  They hung out for a little while trying to console me and make me laugh.

The next few days were hard and disappointing.  The Sadie Hawkins Dance was approaching and I was just about to get up the nerve to ask a guy I liked to go with me when the ankle incident occurred.  I wouldn't be going to that either.  My best friend, Kathryn, came over instead that night and we watched movies and made fun of my foot which was so swollen by then, it looked like a cabbage patch doll's foot (that is how we described it).

I never did run hurdles again.  The leaping and landing was just too much and then the season ended. The next year I joined the swim team instead.  I kept running, since that was my first love, but it was always on my terms and no one else's.  I may have done a disservice to myself with that choice, but there is no way of knowing now.

From that time on, it was very easy to sprain or roll my ankle.  As time wore on and I became more comfortable with it, I began paying it less and less heed when it happened.  The last year or so, I've done it several times on trails, and I've finished the race or the run anyway.  Just like yesterday. 

This morning it is sore and stiff, although I can't really tell if it is swollen because it is permanently bigger than my left one due to all the rolling and spraining. I'm still pretty pumped about my pace yesterday.  It is helping build the confidence I need to face the upcoming marathon and my hope for a PR.  And while I could have done without the rock in the sidewalk, I did enjoy taking a stroll (run?) down memory lane, remembering another piece of the story in my journey as a runner.

Marathon Myths

As I approach what will be my 23rd marathon, thinking about the finishing time I want to achieve and my strategy to get there, I have doubts.  There are many things I know to be true about marathon running...and yet.  It is so hard to believe them as that start line draws closer.

For example, when I think about the pace I want for a marathon - let's say somewhere around an 8:35 or 8:40 pace - I feel that I should run that pace for all of my long runs.  This makes sense.  If I want to run 26.2 miles at that pace, I should be running my 15 and 18 and 20 mile training runs at that pace.  Right?  Wrong!  But why?  How is that possible?

When I had it in my head that I wanted to qualify for Boston, I figured out that I needed to run around an 8:25 pace to do it.  That freaked me out.  Most of my long runs were around 10 minute pace or a little less.  And even the training plan I downloaded from Runnersworld.com said I needed to run my long runs at 9:10 pace.  That didn't make any sense.  How can I train at 9:10 pace and then expect to run almost a minute faster per mile in the marathon?

Now, I do realize there are other training runs incorporated each week that are aimed at increasing speed, and my shorter runs and races are over a minute faster than 8:25 pace. But still...I'd have to hold that pace for 26.2 miles!

This past weekend I ran my 18 miler and tried to push the pace.  Now, I had a few little challenges before me - sore muscles and icy sidewalks and roads, but for the most part I held it.  But after 18 miles at 8:54 pace, I was tired.  I was glad to stop.  I was glad I did not have 8 more miles to run.  So how is it that I hope to run faster than 8:54 pace in the actual marathon? 

Two days later I did my 8-mile tempo-esque run.  My tempo runs are always a bit backward in that I allow my first mile to warm me up a bit and then I run all the others as hard as I can go, trying for negative splits the entire way.  The average pace for this run was 8:10, with the last two slightly under 8 (7:59, 7:37).  I was pleased with this because I knew I was still tired from the 18 miler Saturday and the 10 miler Sunday.

But still, as I sit and think about it, it is hard to imagine going 8:40 pace for 26 miles.  I know it will be a race, which affects adrenaline levels and such.  I know I will fuel more.  I did nothing for the 15 miler and only a sip of water in the middle of the 18 miler.  I've even seen this truth in my own marathon running experiences...

And yet...I still doubt.  It seems like a marathon myth.  But is it?

Just Move It

I do love a good contest. I haven't always, but ever since the first contest in 2009, it is in my blood and I am game for a little competition, especially when it has to do with health and fitness.

This newest contest is being held by my current employer, The University of Alabama in Huntsville, and it is called Just Move It. Instead of the individual "Outwork the Boss" contest in 2009, however, this one involves a team.

Just Move It is a competition between teams of UAH faculty, staff, students and alumni, in which everyone sets a goal (in minutes per week) for themselves and strives to reach it.  By reaching weekly goals, attending the occasional lunch-time health seminars, and a few other bonus activities (such as getting at least 6 hours of sleep a night and wearing your seatbelt 100% of the time), teams accumulate points that can earn prizes and possibly the President’s Cup for the year.  

My department, Professional and Continuing Studies, has a team and we are called the PCS Powerhouse. And guess who the team captain is...  ME!  I am so pumped!

The real excitement for me is not really in winning anything, although that is certainly fun.  I hope to be able to actually help my teammates reach their fitness and health goals and to realize the ability and potential in themselves. Too often I see people limiting themselves with phrases such as, "I could never do that," and I always want to ask, "why not?" 

I will never understand why so many people assume failure before they've even tried.  As someone who is average, ordinary and regular, I have tried all kinds of things that seemed almost impossible.  Almost.  I'd like to influence a change in that failure-mindset so many have.  I want people to know they do NOT have to settle for being less than they want to be, and if being strong, healthy and fit is one of those things, then I want them to believe in themselves and go get it.

I'm not sure who all will join the team.  At the moment I have four others besides myself and I would love to see that triple in size.  I'd love for people to let go of their inhibitions and insecurities and just give it a go.  I wish they could see how totally worth it this would be, and to see the success and the life changes taking place before they'd even begun.  

I can't force anyone, but I intend to encourage and pray for the opportunity to help. I think this could be great for many of them.  If they would just move it!

Marathon Training, Bunco and Darth Vader

So far, the plans for my marathon training during my 3-day weekend have come to fruition.  There have been little challenges along the way, but it has all worked out just fine. 

Friday was a balmy 13 degrees when I got up to go to my sister's and jog with her and Mom.  It was birthday party weekend for Julie's two kiddos and Mom was there to help.  I sat down with Julie and Mom over coffee and informed them it was too cold for me.  Julie seconded my opinion.  Mom suited up and headed out for a 5 miler in it, while Julie and I lingered over our coffee.  Mom either wins the "toughest chick" award or the "fewest braincells" award.  Or both.

I ended up getting 4 quick miles on the treadmill at lunch.  That night I officiated the purple table at Caroline's 9th birthday party, which was a Bunco party.  The girls had a blast and so did I.

The greatest group of 9 year olds I know!

Me and the Birthday Girl

Saturday morning was the day of truth, but I've got to back up a little to Thursday to explain it.  I mentioned earlier that I'd been doing cross training and that consisted of a cycling class once a week.  Jason warned me about this, reminding me of his aches and pains when he started cycling again on his trainer.  Knowing he was probably right (because most of the time he is), I went anyway thinking how bad could it be? 

Well, Friday afternoon I began to see how bad it could be.  My back began stiffening and aching something fierce.  It did not hurt during the 4 mile treadmill run, so that was promising.  I took some ibuprofen and hoped for the best.  Saturday morning I felt better, but the pain had not really gone away.  It had moved up into my neck. 

I also had a sore hamstring from, (don't laugh), building Runnie the Snowman.  This hamstring gets mad every now and again but has rarely caused too much trouble. I just have to deal with it for a week or two and then it goes away again.  I was not overly concerned about it, but I did hope an 18 miler would not make it worse or lead to injury. 

So as I ate my breakfast and woke up a little bit Saturday morning, I wondered how this 18 miler would go.  There was still plenty of ice and snow everywhere too.  Jason counseled me not to be disappointed if I did not run the pace I wanted.  He said the cold could slow me down (as our bodies have to work a little harder in the cold), as well as the clothes I was wearing (running tights versus my preference of shorts) and the ice that remained on the sidewalks.

I set out at 9:00a.m.  I needed to be done by noon so I could shower and head to the second birthday party of the weekend, which would be Caleb's Star Wars party. 

The run was a success. I did have to slow many times to maneuver over icy spots and piled up snow, but I tried to quickly regain my momentum and keep my pace.  I did not have the wind to contend with this time, so that was a relief.  I followed a similar route as the 15 miler last weekend, hitting some hard hills in the beginning and trying to go for an easier route toward the end...so I thought.  It ended up being much hillier than I'd thought, and I felt like I was constantly climbing.  This is usually fine when I'm not running for time, but I really wanted this long run to be sub 9 minute pace and all of this climbing was making it hard to hold pace. 

I finally reached mile 18 and when I downloaded my watch, it showed 8:54 pace.  A little slower than last week, but still under 9:00.  I was grateful for that and satisfied with my efforts. My shoulders and neck were incredibly stiff by this point and I welcomed the hot shower, which loosened them up. 

I didn't have time to linger as we needed to hurry to Caleb's birthday party.  He and six of his friends were being trained as padawans by Obi Con Kenobi (Cousin Conner) to fight the dark side which turned out to be none other than Uncle Darth Vader (aka Jason). 

Jedi graduates after defeating Uncle Darth Vader!

Obi Con Kenobi, Uncle Darth, and Caleb the birthday boy

We had a blast, and Jason came out of it mostly unscathed, although I think one young padawan got in a good whack to his leg with the plastic light saber. 

Sunday morning I met my friend, Shannon for a 10 miler before church.  My legs were very tired which I suppose should not be surprising, but I had hoped to feel more recovered in order to run well with Shannon.  I was concerned that I was slowing her down, but she assured me that the pace was just fine for her.  It was very cold, once again, and I had a hard time warming up until the sun finally came out. Her husband, Phillip, had coffee waiting on us when we got home and I enjoyed another blessedly hot post-run shower. 

After church I had a massage session with Kim to look forward to, and it was just what this tired body needed.  She worked everything completely out of my neck and shoulders so that today (Monday) I feel like a new woman.  She also worked on my hamstring, which is still tight, but not as angry as before. 

Today, I'm hoping for something shorter (6-8 miles) and faster (8:30 or less).  This may be harder to do than I think, but I had a good night's rest and I'd like to try to hold pace with tired limbs in order to train them to hold pace when I hit the latter miles of my marathon. 

All in all, it has been a wonderful weekend of running and partying, and I can't think of a better mix than that!

Snow and Marathon Training

Today would be day four of not only TONS of snow everywhere (which is lovely, but more challenging to run in), but extremely cold temperatures.  Below freezing with windchills of even further below freezing.  Now, I know it is January, but this is also the SOUTH!  We are not equipped for this (except for Jason, who has the most awesome down coat ever).

I know I should not complain.  We received two days off this week because of the snow, and I enjoyed those days immensely.  I have enjoyed the beauty of the snow, the building of Runnie the snowman, and even the snowy running adventures alone and with Julia.  But now...I just want to run.  Down the road.  Free of any obstacles or slippery surfaces.

I set out yesterday after work planning for 6 miles and I gave up after 3.  It was cold and windy, and although I was dressed for it, I was not in the mood for it.  When I came across an entire road that was still iced over, I had to stop and I lost my momentum. I finished that last mile and headed home.

Today I drove to work amazed at all the snow that still remains covering everything.  I had already decided today I would not brave the elements again.  Jane 3, Snow 1.  I think I will hit the treadmill at lunch and then go to my cycling class after work.  Good exercise, good cross training, and warmth. 

On a brighter (and warmer) note, the weather is supposed to start warming up so that it will be in the balmy 40s and 50s by the weekend.  That is perfect for another hard and fast long run or two.  Last weekend I knew this weather was coming, and since I've decided to do another marathon in Feb (yes, I know I said I was taking time off from marathoning...I changed my mind) I knew I'd better get in some good training.

By good training, I mean I've got to do some things differently if I want a PR marathon.  I think I have endurance down - especially after the 50 mile and more recently being a marathon pacer for Rocket City.  It is the speed I lack and the ability to hold it.  I've done some reading, consulted Jason, and come up with a few things to try.  He uploaded two workouts onto my Garmin and I've decided to do my long runs solo.  This is because I focus more on running fast when I am not running my mouth.

Last weekend I did a 15 miler at an average pace of 8:44 per mile.  I think I could have done a bit better but I had an amazing headwind to contend with.  The next day I knew the weather was coming, so I went for a 6 miler and tried to push the pace.  My last two miles were under 8 minutes, giving me an average of 8:16 per mile.

Then came the snow.  And maybe it was good to have some slower, more restful days of running before hitting the weekend miles hard again.  This weekend I'm going to do another fast (hopefully) 17 or 18 miler on Saturday and then a 10 miler with a friend on Sunday.  On Monday we have the day off and so I hope to hit it hard again with a shorter (6-8 miles) run where I push the pace, or do one of the workouts on my watch.  I am clustering these runs together in order to train tired limbs to run fast despite the fatigue.  It is a bit of shortened ultra training plan (long runs back to back) with more speedwork (trying to push the pace down).  I've also incorporated some cross training twice a week with a kick boxing class and a cycling class at the gym.  It is not exactly the most ideal cross training, but it is what I can do with the time I have.

All in all it is a mish mash of plans I've read about, plans I've used in my own training and an analysis of my current strengths and weaknesses as a runner.  I am hopeful and excited.  I think this mind and body are ready to approach and run another marathon. And while the snow may be starting to get on my nerves a bit, I think overall, it has fit into my training schedule perfectly.

When It Pays To Run

So I talked my friend Julia into a snowy run with me today.  Actually, she needed no persuasion as she was already planning on going and had also run in the snow the day before.  We ran to the local grocery store which was about a mile for each of us, and met there before continuing on together.  As I predicted, it was a lot more fun running with a friend through the snowy and slushy streets and sidewalks, chatting all the while, than going alone. 

As we started out, I remembered that I had forgotten that I had wanted to bring money along with me so that we could get a coffee at the new little cafe near the grocery store.  I'd been wanting to try it out and for one reason or another I'd never made it there.  A little warm coffee before completing a snowy run with a friend sounded just perfect, but I'd been distracted with the wrapping of my feet in plastic bags and not wanting to be late to meet Julia. 

The two of us had a great run and even though we had to run slower due to the snow, the time seemed to fly by. We ran through slush and snow, the plastic bags keeping our feet mostly dry for most of the run.  Several times I could not really tell if I was still on the sidewalk or not because the snow was still so thick in places.  We turned around after 4 miles out and made our way back the same way we had come.

When we reached the grocery store once again, we cut across the parking lot since it was mostly free of snow.  As I looked down, I spotted a wet $5 bill on the ground.  I picked it up, shook it off, and as soon as I thought it, Julia said, "Coffee!"  I laughed and said, "Thanks, Lord!" as we cut back across the parking lot to the little cafe.  How perfect!

We enjoyed a delicious cup of fresh coffee as we sat on the leather couch next to a window in the cafe.  I will definitely be going back.  We talked as we sipped, and while I thought the coffee would warm me, it was not enough to combat the effect of wet feet and legs on a winter day.  I was almost shivering by the time we left, and it seemed a strong wind had decided to show up for the trek home.

Julia and I parted ways as she headed back to her house and I to mine.  I had been considering a few more miles in my neighborhood, but the strong, cold wind along with my wet feet talked me out of it.  I got in a total of 8 snowy, slushy miles and that was enough for the day.  And what a great day it had been!

If we get another snow day tomorrow (which would make three wonderful days in a row), I'm planning to head out again, and I know some girls who will be game to join me.  This time I will remember to put some money in my pocket should the local grocery store parking lot and the good Lord not be providing a second cup of free coffee.

Snowy Running and Runnie the Snowman

I did it.  I took off in the snow hoping to get in about 5 miles and having no idea what running in the snow would be like.  Everything was covered.  Usually, when it snows here in Alabama, the roads don't really get covered, but not so this time.  The roads were as white as the yards and driveways and it was hard to see where one ended and the other began.

I loved it.  It was a lot like trail running in that I had to pick up my feet and pay attention to where I was stepping. That slowed down my pace considerably, but that was okay.  It was fun!  I felt more like I was run-marching than anything else.  And it was a work out!  By mile one I was rethinking my 5 mile plan.

The only incident was when my foot slipped down toward one of the curbside drains because the snow covered it completely.  I landed softly in the cottony snow, laughed and kept going.  I'd say it is unlikely that anyone saw me, but everyone was out today.  Some were building snowmen, some were shoveling snow, some were having snowball fights, and many were just walking around looking at it all.  I waved and said hello as I passed, thinking how nice it was to see the neighborhood so alive.

That is the nice thing about a snow day.  All of a sudden everyone has the day off to simply be together.  I like that.  And it seemed the entire neighborhood was making use of that time. 

I ended up only running 3 miles around my neighborhood, but I had a blast doing it.  With each step, my feet sank into the snow until it was well over my ankles, but it did not stick to my feet.  I liked the loud crunching sound my foot falls made as I ran through what looked like powdered sugar.  I passed many impressive snowmen along the way and so when I got home, I went straight to my front yard and began building.

For the first time ever, I built a snowman all by myself - and a big one too.  It may have looked funny to see a grown woman working away in the front yard, but I was a woman on a mission.  Jason had also gone out for a run and I wanted a completed snowman waiting on him when he returned.

I named my snowman Runnie, giving him a Rocket City Marathon cap, orange gloves on his twig arms, and an Auburn scarf (to celebrate the day, of course).  I placed Powerade caps for his eyes and a half-smile of red berries from the nandina plant in the front yard.  A handsome bloke to be sure, and the name will continue to be fitting once he starts to melt.

So the run was brief but fun.  I'm hoping to rope some of my crazy running girls into a little jaunt in the morning.  I had fun on my lone snowy run, but I'm thinking it would be even more so with buddies.

When Garfield Predicts the Weather

The amazing feline has done it again.  He has called it like it is and as always, he has made me laugh.  I do love my daily Garfield comic! 

This morning, in North Alabama, we awoke to 8 inches of snow.  That is more than this native Floridian has ever experienced in her life.  I knew it was coming, and I could hardly sleep for the growing brightness in our bedroom and maybe the child-like hope that work would be canceled, which it was.  But then I went outside with my sister's dog, Jethro (we are keeping him for the weekend while she and her husband attend the National Championships, War Eagle!), and the snow was up to my knees.  I stood there with my mouth hanging open and looked at my neighborhood.  Even the streets were covered in white and the snow completely enveloped Jason's 4runner. 

As Jethro tried to find a suitable spot to use the bathroom, I marched through the snow in amazement.  I had on Jason's down jacket and my pajama pants with a pair of his running shoes over my thick wool socks.  The snow came all the way up to my knees, got in the oversized shoes, covered my socks, the works.  It was cold and fun at the same time. 

And that leaves me with one question and that is, how does one run in this kind of snow?  High knees?  Slowly?   Carefully?   I think, I would be amiss in my running experience if I did not at least give it a try.  I probably will not venture out onto any major roads (although, I don't think there will be many cars on them either), but I will take it easy through my own neighborhood.  Or, I could follow Garfield's lead and take up hibernation until the vernal equinox.  But I think we know what my choice will be... Stay tuned for the snow running report!

31 Years and 5 Cupcakes

This morning I awoke at the usual time and put on the running clothes I had set out the night before.  Yawning and rubbing my eyes, I told Jason good-bye and made my way into the kitchen for something to drink before meeting the girls to run.  And then I remembered... we weren't meeting at the usual time, but 15 minutes earlier!  That meant they were already running and I had not even left the house!  I debated crawling back into bed, but decided against it. I grabbed my keys and headed out the door.  I could not miss this morning's run!  It was the morning of my 31st birthday and I had eaten 5 cupcakes the night before.

I really wanted a run with my girls on my special day, and I think we can all agree I had a little something to burn off.  I used my psychic runner powers and hoped they were running toward my house.  I drove the route I thought they would take and sure enough I found them, blinky lights flashing, reflective gear glowing. I pulled up next to them and yelled, "I forgot when we were starting this morning!"  They immediately began singing happy birthday.  I told them I was parking in the shopping center behind them and they turned around to meet me there.  It was great.  They are awesome.  End of story. 

But not the birthday story. We laughed as they told me they were planning to sing outside my house.  I ran 6 miles with them, ending up back at my car as they headed back to our usual meeting place.  That was all I had originally planned to do.  The day before I had run 10 miles with Kristi and then attended the Turbokick class at the gym later that night.  I was tired. But the 5 cupcakes...added to the fact that there were more cupcakes at home and a lunch date with some girlfriends at work later that day...I stood there considering more miles.

"No, I need the rest."  

"But you ate 5 cupcakes."

"I did a lot yesterday before I ate the cupcakes."

"But you ate 5 cupcakes. FIVE!  Not two, FIVE!"

"It is cold out here and I am tired after yesterday."

"Do I need to mention the cupcakes again?"

Back and forth I went, standing next to my car looking out across the parking lot.  And then it hit me.  If I ran 2 more miles, I would have a total of 31 for the week so far.  Jason had asked me before my birthday if I wanted to run a 50k for my 31st.  I laughed and said no.  He asked because I had run 30 miles for my 30th birthday, so it was a reasonable question.  It would be a lie if I said I hadn't considered it, but I since I'm planning another marathon in February, I decided it would hinder more than help.  Hitting 31 miles this week on my 31st birthday, however...that I could do.

Happy with my decision, I drove home to get Chance the boxer.  I figured he would enjoy two extra birthday miles as well.  We ran together through the neighborhood as the morning finally started to grow light.  I felt better doing a bit more exercise since the previous night's cupcake binge, and I enjoyed celebrating my 31st birthday in my own running fashion.

Jason laughed and shook his head when I told him how I'd gotten in my 31 miles for my 31 years. I figure it is all his fault anyway. He is the one who made the cupcakes.

Stats and Such

Every year I look forward to the great calendar purchase. This is when I go to Staples and purchase the exact same calendar that I have had for over 10 years.  I fill in all relevant birthdays and anniversaries (green pen for birthdays, pink pen for anniversaries), and then any plans for the new year such as known races and hair appointments.

I also count up the yearly mileage total of the previous year and transfer all monthly totals to the new calendar.  These go back to 2006.  And I love this part.  I love the numbers.  And it is crazy to me that I love these numbers because I can't add or subtract worth a flip.  My slogan: "I'm an English major. You do the math."  (Although how good of an English major I am is also under question). 

Anyway, here is an example of the past 5 years in mileage.  I'm not going to use every month because that would be tedious for an already boring topic (although, I like it hence the blog entry).

January

• 2006 - 65 miles
• 2007 - 84.7 miles
• 2008 - 117.6 miles
• 2009 - 203.3 miles
• 2010 - 175.7 miles

August

• 2006 - 88 miles
• 2007 - 86.6 miles
• 2008 - 167.4 miles
• 2009 - 161.1 miles
• 2010 - 200 miles

September

• 2006 - 99 miles
• 2007 - 76 miles
• 2008 - 167 miles
• 2009 - 186.6 miles
• 2010 - 237 miles (highest mileage month to date - training for 50 miler)

Yearly mileage for 2009 - 2068.6
Yearly mileage for 2010 - 2091.4

Looking at these totals always amazes me, and every year as I am writing them in, I share this amazement with Jason.  It is funny how his entrance into my life shows up in the mileage numbers.  It is interesting how the mileage in 2009 and 2010 has almost doubled since 2006.  I remember when I first met Jason, he used to run in 1 week what I ran in a month.  I never tried to do what he did, but his approach to the sport definitely influenced my own.

Not only has Jason affected these mileage increases, but also the amazing gaggle of running girls I am so blessed to know.  I would have never been able to get out and run on 24 degree mornings (such as this very morning) or tackle the insane hills I've tackled without the accountability, encouragement and pure fun I have when I plan to meet them for a morning run. 

Looking at the year of 2010 alone is also amazing to me.  If someone told me at any point in those early years I would run more than a marathon...I would have laughed.  Yet I began the year running 30 miles for my 30 years on January 2, 2010, running every single mile with my dearest and best on a brutally cold day (19 degrees, windchill of 7ish, I think) to celebrate a new decade of my life. 

I did not run a personal record for my marathon in 2010 and that was a disappointment for me.  So what did I do instead?  A 50 mile trail run of all things.  I still have a hard time believing that was real.  And to top it off, Jason completed his first Ironman with flying colors, and that was an amazing experience for both of us.  What a year! 

I can't help but shake my head and wonder what adventures and experiences 2011 holds.  There will be triumphs, I hope.  And probably a few obstacles and disappointments along the way.  Maybe something new.  Perhaps a marathon PR.  Maybe another 50 miler.  Trips to new places.  Or a change in venue altogether as Jason and I embark on new adventures having nothing to do with our chosen athletic pursuits.

I don't look back in arrogance but in...amazement thinking, "Look at what I was able to do!"  I feel blessed.  I can't leave that out of it.  I give God full credit for this body He made and this desire in my heart to use it in this fashion.  I hope He shows me how to glorify Him better through that, for that is more important than any of the things I listed above.

I am truly grateful for every step, every moment, every experience I've had because of this beloved sport and I look forward to all the steps, moments, adventures and experiences (okay, and mileage numbers) that 2011 may bring.

2010 Storms Out

I had planned to ring in the new year by racing my brains out in a 5k, getting a PR with just minutes to spare in 2010, winning a $100.00 gift certificate to Terrame, and then giving my husband a big kiss at midnight with the first ever ball drop in Huntsville, AL.  

Sounds great, right?  I thought so.  But it was not to be.  We got rained out...or maybe stormed out is the best way to put it. 

Around 10:45 Friday night, Jason and I drove across town to participate in the Terrame New Years Eve 5k, which would start at 11:30.  It was a pricey race to sign up for, but going to a great cause - the building of a park with a playground for the handicapped - and it was New Year's Eve after all, so we figured it was worth it.  It was raining pretty hard at our house when we left, but we figured (hoped) it would stop. I thought a run in the rain would be a fun adventure, so I was game no matter what.  My legs were ready to RACE, and I figured the cold rain would give me an edge.

The prize for the first 3 finishers in each age group was a $100.00 gift certificate to Terrame.  I was picturing a much needed eyebrow wax, and maybe a pedicure.  And I was ready to grit my teeth, dig deep and run for a PR and my uni-brow.

It was still pouring when we arrived.  We parked and sat in the car watching for people and trying to see where to go.  Eventually, Jason turned off the car and we made a dash for it, running through gigantic puddles in the parking lot and then across a muddy, slushy field to the start line.  Not quite half a mile, but not far off.  We got to the start line minutes before the race was to start.  I got my Garmin ready as Jason pinned on his race number and then it happened.  Lightning lit up the entire sky quickly followed by a loud clap of thunder. 

The race officials weren't messing around with that.  They quickly began encouraging runners to get inside, and Jason and I made the return dash to our car.  It was extremely windy and pouring rain as I grabbed Jason's hand, laughing and said, "Happy New Year, Babe!"  He stopped running and gave me a big kiss before we continued on to the car. 

We sat there a few minutes hoping, but the lightning kept coming so we eventually drove home.  We were soaked and a little disappointed not to race, but it had been a fun little excursion anyway.  We came home, took a hot shower and enjoyed some ice cream before falling into bed.  I had run 12 miles that morning, so once my rainy run adrenaline wore off, I began feeling the affects of the long day quickly. 

It wasn't the New Year's Eve I'd hoped for, but it wasn't too bad either.  I did get a kiss in the rain from the man I love most in the world so I really couldn't complain.  It has been an absolutely wonderful year and I look forward to the crazy adventures and experiences Jason and I may run into in 2011 (pun intended).

HAPPY NEW YEAR!