Not so consolation prize

Tomorrow, I take the GRE. After three weeks of studying*, I still feel horribly unprepared. To make matters worse, I'll be driving from Boston to Worcester in my brother's front wheel drive pickup truck during what is predicted to be a quite hefty snowstorm. Party.
And after the horrible test, I have dinner plans with an estranged former non-boyfriend, which I am much looking forward to, but I have a feeling I will totally awkward him out if I ask to crash at his place so I don't die on the icy roads. Double party.

Yesterday I looked up admissions statistics for the program I'm applying for. In fact, I looked up admissions statistics for all the programs at my school (my place of employment is an awesome college in Boston). It started off okay. 78%, 83%, 80%, 68%. Then I got to the program I want. 38% acceptance rate. 38 flipping percent. There is no way I am getting in. Not with my withdrawing from Creative Writing and failing out of Community Chorus. No. Way.

Anyway, the purpose of all this is to announce my "backup plan". I refuse to admit defeat. If I don't make it into this program, if I don't end up pursuing this particular dream, my spirit will not be crushed by the tyranny of academia, nor the fact that I look terrible on paper.

So I am stating this now, before I bomb the GRE and lose any hope of being a graduate student, before I chicken out and pretend I never made myself this promise. I say this in front of the whole internet, on this blog that nobody reads, that if I don't make it into graduate school, I will run a marathon in 2009.



*Holding the book on my lap and staring despondently at pages worth of math that I'll never figure out

TiaRT : My running year in 52 words or less.

Today's theme for "Take it and Run Thursday" is "A year in review in 52 words or less." After handing in my final paper earlier this week, this is much more my style of word limit.


Newfound love of running long distances and lifting heavy things, not at the same time.

Goal of "one 5k" turns into "four 5ks, three 5-milers, one 7-miler, one 4k trail race, and one half-marathon." And a partridge in a pear tree.

Former unambitious slacker now applying to graduate school.

It's all connected.

pushups are hard. so are fractions.

It's kind of weird, but I've started to really enjoy going to the gym. I used to hate the gym, I mean really really loathe it. This is another strange turn of events this year, like running 13 miles, and going back to school, that I really never ever saw coming from me.
Anyway, I think it all comes down to finally getting away from the "chick" sensibility of the gym, and getting the heck away from the hamster wheels of death (elliptical - major ew, treadmill - also ew but necessary evil in the winter) and wimpy nautilus machines and instead playing with all of the fun gym toys. I've kind of started to look forward to my lunch break workouts like I used to look forward to recess when I was in the 3rd grade.
There's a big aerobic studio, which is only used at certain times of the day. I plan my lunch break around the empty times, and haul in a couple kettlebells, and kick my own butt for 20-30 minutes straight. Just 5 minutes of kettlebell swings, pushups, and light-weight overhead squats (my new favorite thing) and I am sweatier than I am after a 9 mile run. It's awesome. And gross. But only gross because I feel like I'm supposed to think it's gross. Mostly it's just awesome.

This afternoon, one of my faculty caught me in my office ravenously eating peanut butter out of the jar with a plastic knife. He was mightily amused.
I need to stock up on some more self-contained protein-rich snacks.

Anyway, back to studying for the GRE.
There is no way I am going to learn all of this before Friday. FRIDAY.
When did THAT happen?
Ugh.

Seasonal affected disorder

Okay, I really thought that I was pretty entrenched in "the loop" of any crazy running-related shenanigans around these parts. Apparently I was mistaken.
How come NOBODY TOLD ME ABOUT THIS? Not a PEEP? I would have been ALL OVER THIS in my yellow (sorry, I only have one) bathing suit and Santa hat. Jeez.

Clearly, I need to keep my ear to the streetz from now on, lest I miss any more top-notch shenanigans.

You know what I'm not going to miss though?
This.

I officially dub 2009 the year of "Crazy in a good way".

I went that way

Sitting on my couch yesterday afternoon, feeling grumpy and drinking my fourth cup of coffee of the day, I turned my head to the right just in time to see a girl running down K Street. So I thought to myself, "that could be, nay, should be, me!" And despite the cold and the first snow of the season (whee!) I suited up and went out and I don't think I've ever been so glad to have gone for a run. Four and some miles in the driving snow, and not another runner in sight until I got halfway across the Pleasure Bay causeway. He and I gave each other a look of solidarity and went on our respective ways. And I thought that I may not be built for speed, or for distance, but maybe I can be built for sheer stubborn, illogical determination.
The wind was directly and powerfully to my right as I crossed the bay, and I got snowflake after snowflake directly in my eyeballs. Which isn't really that bad.
As I made my trudging final steps in front of the K Street gym, I decided then and there that if there is a marathon on my 30th birthday, anywhere in the world, I am going there and I am running it.

Race report : Feaster Five

46:52 net time / 9:26 per mile

There was a huge crown on Thanksgiving morning, a perfectly sunny & cool day for a run. It took me a couple minutes to even shuffle to the start, but eventually I got some elbow room and even ended up passing a few people (not just walkers and babies, either!). I think I managed to run each mile faster than the previous and was amazed to come in under 50 minutes on the clock. After getting my adjusted chip time, I was pretty pleased, considering it was such a hilly course. I realized I've come to the point where I enjoy running, and it's not like it isn't a challenge, but I really could push myself harder.
Anyway, I got my pie at the end, which really tickled me pink. I don't even know if I'll end up eating it.

Probably my last race of the year, unless I decide to do the Jolly Jaunt this weekend.

Well well well...

This afternoon I ran 2.9 miles on the dreadmill at an average pace of 8:55/mile.
Well hells yes. I guess there's a little bit o'badass in me after all.
I don't know if it's a bad old joke (the kind Dads learn at Dad Camp) or an episode of Looney Tunes, but there's some saying about hitting yourself in the head with a hammer because it feels so good when you stop. Same feeling? Fast treadmill running.

Anyhoo, I'm scarfing down ramen for lunch like it's my job. Why? Because it's all I can afford. Seriously. I've been assuming the economy wasn't affecting me, but then my brother brought it to my attention that the price of Tostitos cheese dip has gone up 80 cents in the past month or so. I'm sure that's some sort of sacrelige.
Also, the protein portion of my lunch today was a bag of honey roasted peanuts. Thank heavens for 7-11!

Back on the horse

I took it easy for (most) of the week after the half. Wednesday, I tried some speed intervals on the treadmill and made it about 20 minutes before giving up and moving along to some kettlebell squats. Bad idea. I'm just now getting over Tight Biker Shorts of Pain. Anyhoos, I decided to get back on the road last night, as it was becoming painfully obvious that I am one of those "running is cheaper than therapy" folks. I rushed home after class, threw on some leggings (more of the Lindsay Lohan variety than the running tights variety) and a tech shirt and headband and headed off to my regular route. I was waylaid about 4 minutes in by intense side stitching across my entire abdomen, but continued to shuffle along for awhile, and forced myself to go on for about 20 minutes by taking my usual route over the causeway, which is kind of scary at night. I never want to stop when running in the pitch-black and windy over Pleasure Bay. I got to the mainland again and had to stop, limping home by way of Medal of Honor Park. Still, it was enough to take the edge off my life & coffee-induced anxiety. Ahhhhh.
My roommate just ran the NY Marathon and seems to think I can run a marathon too. While he insists that it's all mental, I insist that I don't run on my brain, I run on my feet and at the end of 26.2 miles, I would likely no longer have feet.
Though it can't be too much crazier than going to Grad school, which I'm also contemplating. Speaking of which, I should get back to writing this paper instead of blogging.

TiART : Steeplechasing life

For my first Take it and Run Thursday, it seems appropriate that this week's theme is "Running Through Transitions", as I've consistently struggled with keeping on track during transitions of many kinds, and also as I'm devising my training/running plan for the coming winter months to ensure I don't let myself get derailed by life's little surprises.

There was a time, not too long ago, when I glibly listed my weaknesses as "wildberry skittles, younger men, and quitting." Hence the title of this blog. It's a strange affliction to have, and probably even stranger to realize and label like that. Hello, my name is Tess, and I am a recovering quitaholic.
Not only was it impossible for me to stick to anything, I enjoyed giving up on it. Every difficulty, every transition in life, was an excuse to drop something. Whether it be a college class (I dropped out twice, switched schools and switched back, shuffled my schedule so often each semester that I'd attended about 20 different classes in the first two weeks of school), a job (I've had some doozies), boyfriends (more doozies), apartments, even leaving a boring party without telling anyone gave me some sort of strange rush. I even took up smoking (GROSS) for a year just to prove I could quit cold turkey.

Running - exercise in general, was always a victim of my quitaholism. Any time I was going through any kind of challenge in life, I always quit exercise. And with all the transferring, and moving, and breaking up I was apparently doing during the college years, I had an endless stream of excuses to stop my almost-blossoming running habit, which at the time was just a couple pitiful weekly jogs around Beaver Lake and a dreamy notion of how awesome it might be to run a WHOLE 5K.

Fast forward to well, now, and I'm four days off running my first half marathon, and idea that six years ago (heck, five days ago) seemed not only impossible but laughable. Even mythical, like unicorns and sea creatures. But I did it, after not even a year of running steady. And I somehow started running for real on the cusp of what ended up being a staggering stream of transitions, and kept on running through all of them.
I left a job and started a new one, moved apartments (and was homeless for a month), went through the worst breakup ever, had my next apartment explode and was homeless again for another month, lost a couple close friends, awkwardly regained some, and too many other strange and twisting changes to mention. Somehow, for the first time, I managed to run through them all, instead of using them as excuses not to run. And now, instead of wanting to quit when the going gets tough, I want to run.
Go figure. When the going gets tough, the tough get running.

I've started looking at life not as a highway (zing, Tom Cochrane!) where every challenge is an opportunity to take the nearest exit and get some McDonalds, but as a long steeplechase where challenging transitions are more like water hazards or hurdles. Without the momentum I get from running, I wouldn't be able to scale the obstacles in my path.

This post was written as a part of
Take it and Run Thursday, courtesy of Runners' Lounge.

Race Report : Manchester City Half Marathon

I wish I could go back in time and tell my 4 years ago self, or even my 1 year ago self, that I would one day run a 13.1 mile race. Past self would have thought that was SUCH a funny joke.
I remember when my loftiest goal was to run a 5k. When I spent the summer of 2004 struggling half a mile around the lake before a stubborn side stitch always sent me home. It was a goal so seemingly unattainable at the time. So I always quit running, over and over again.

Yet here I was, on Sunday, running the Manchester City Half Marathon
Having no race-day pickup actually worked out pretty well. I went to the expo on Saturday to get my number and chip and race shirt. Unfortunately, they were out of all but Large and XL shirt, which would have been fine if the shirts weren't nice, but they were really nice long-sleeved half-zip tech shirts with a subtle logo. I ended up giving mine to my brother, even though he never comes to see me run because that would mean he had to get up in the morning.

Yesterday I woke up rested at 6am (thank you, Standard Time), had some oatmeal, and put on way too many layers. I always make this mistake, but I suppose I'm still a beginner. Anyway, I dressed head to toe in brown spandex, ensuring that I looked like a giant poop. Great. I also had a stocking cap, gloves, and my awesome new Nathan fannypack thingo to carry my Gu and iPod (not for listening, just for timing since I don't have a fancy watch).
After guzzling down a cup of coffee and several bottles of water, I was quite concerned to see the shortage of portapotties and the long lines 15 minutes before race start. Still, runners are nothing if not fast, even in the bathroom, so we all managed to make it to the start and the race started on time at 8:50.
The lack of shirts in my size and the toilet sitch made me slightly worried that this would be disorganized disaster of a race, but I was very wrong. The volunteers and police officers were AWESOME, especially as the course was not closed to traffic and they had to maintain the delicate balance of letting the runners pass unfettered while keeping the fine drivers of ManchVegas from running any of us over in a fit of road rage. Excellent job to all.

Anyway, the course. It was scenic, both urban & suburban, and J.C. of A., they were NOT KIDDING about the hills. OW.
I was surprised at the section of the course that was entirely trails, in Livingston park. That was unexpected. We veered off through the woods and around a small lake for several minutes near mile 6. The pack had dispersed enough that nobody was on anyone else's heels and while I spent most of the time making sure I didn't trip over an unearthed tree root and biff it, I enjoyed the break from pavement.

I started to struggle around mile 9, and by 10 I was running entirely on autopilot. There was a giant, sloping, winding hill right around mile 8 and it pretty much zapped me. I shuffled through mile 9 and when I saw the marker for 10 I knew I was in uncharted territory and started to make some sort of lame Star Trek joke about boldly going where I hadn't gone before, and then giggling to myself, and then realizing I was starting to lose my mind. There were a couple short hills and then by mile 11 it was pretty much all straight or downhill from there. After I passed marker 11, I felt like I had a vast desert to cross before the end, but before I knew it I was passing marker 12, and realized that I was going to finish this thing, and started to cry a little.
I kicked it up a tiny bit near the finish, but the truth is, I had nothing left. I didn't cross the finish line shuffling, but I didn't cross it sprinting either.
My mom was there with her camera, and she gave me a high five. I ripped my chip off my shoe and shuffled over to get my medal (!).
I posted a 2:15ish gun time. I don't know if they're going to post chip times, but mine was definitely faster. Even with the gun time, I managed to average 10:20 per mile, despite all the uphills and the trail portion, so I'm okay with that. I didn't stop running.

Results

After some free chili, a warm bath, and a nap, I headed back to Manch to meet up with the bro at the Strangebrew. His best friend was having an engagement party and it was $2.50 beer night. Gotta love a place that will just pour you an entire pint of 8% Russian Imperial Stout (that just happens to be brewed in your small hometown) for $2.50, and also has free popcorn. Ah, the land of the free.
I also got to overhear my brother tell everyone in earshot that his sister had run a half marathon, which was neat.

Looking forward (as I started to do around mile 7), I don't think a full marathon is in the cards for me, at least not yet. I'd do another half, for sure. I think I'm going to spend the winter trying to get faster and stronger and see how much better I can come out on the other side.

Boo!

Much as I expected, after almost an entire week of not running (*tear*), my hip feels good as new. However, I also feel sluggish and cranky. Possibly because I've been eating myself into a sugar coma pretty much every day this week. Halloween week was not the best week to try and eat healthy. Especially since I'm in charge of buying the candy for my office, and I take that responsibility very seriously.

Anyway, speaking of candy, I love it so much I'm dressing up as it for Halloween. My friend Jenna & I are being candy corn and indian corn (I'm the candy corn).
We're having a Halloween party tonight in the new apartment, and everyone seems really excited about it. As they should be, it's going to be awesome.
My roommate is being the Reading Rainbow (green dress, blue tights, rainbow belt, rainbow bangles, red necklace, purple shoes, a copy of Frankenstein in her pocket, and a pin with a picture of Levar Burton on it). My brother is being Party Fowl - he's going to dress up like a chicken and wear an obnoxious slogan tee, sunglasses indoors, man jewelry, maybe some glowsticks. I told him he should also spill a beer on himself (get it?).

Anyway, I'm restraining myself this weekend and will try my best to get some sleep tonight. Tomorrow I'm heading home, dad is going to take me to the race expo in Manch-Vegas and then I'm going to hit the hay early before the race on Sunday!
I'm not feeling all that confident about it, to tell you the truth, especially since I haven't run this week. But at least I'm not limping and snarking around like Dr. Gregory House, M.D. and wishing that I too had a sweet pimp cane.
Anyway, it's going to be a beautiful day and a fun race and at the end of it I'm going to get a friggin' medal so I guess I can't complain. And after that I'm going to drink $2 microbrew drafts at Strangebrew, so I definitely can't complain.

Happy Halloween and happy running!

Thanks, Lance.

I've been hearing a lot of those "Congratulations, that was your longest workout yet!" celebrity encouragements from my iPod for the last couple weeks because, well, every Sunday has been my longest run yet. Today it was Lance Armstrong congratulating me, last week it was Joan Benoit Samuelsen. Fun.
I ran 10 miles today, my last long run before next Sunday's half marathon. It was a perfect, sunny, breezy day. Across the bridge and downtown, through the Common, down and around the Back Bay Fens, and back home. I followed that with a 10 minute soak in a bathtub full of cold water and bags of ice, while wearing a bathing suit, stocking cap, knee socks and a fleece jacket. And cursing liberally to myself through clenched teeth. After a giant bowl of pasta and a short nap, my body still feels like it has given up on me. It's not a nice feeling to be pushing through a run like this thinking that you won't be able to finish it and certainly won't be able to finish the half marathon without stopping. It's defeatist and I am exhausted and have to edit and rewrite a paper tonight. I don't want to end up just doing it tomorrow at work because I know that just perpetuates bad habits.

I read up on ball-of-foot pain on CoolRunning.com and at the internet's suggestion, cut some pads out of a foam insole and taped them behind the balls of my feet. The right one was perfectly placed and made a world of difference, while the left one could have used some adjustment. I think I'm going to try and MacGuyver them up a little bit more. Having perfect feet for dancing and perfect feet for running are two very different things.

The strategy for this coming week is to eat well and take care of myself. First order of business - eat breakfast. I don't eat enough good things in general, because I have a very light appetite. Combined with a killer sweet tooth and high metabolism, that means most of my caloric intake is comprised of skittles, cupcakes, and pumpkin spice lattes. Because those things are delicious and make me happy. However, they don't make my body happy. First order of business - eat breakfast. As much as the idea of eating in the morning makes me queasy, I've got to teach myself to do it. Next up, more vegetables, lean protein, whole grains. I can do that for a week. And maybe if I can do it for a week, I can do it for another one!

Hipper than thou

There is no denying at this point that there is something very wrong with my body. The pain has settled in my right hip, the same pain that I felt last week after not preparing for or stretching after the Tufts Health Plan 10k for Women. It had loosened up after this weekend's hike, but after last night's strugglicious 9 miles, it is back and worse than ever. I don't know what to do. I even did a short yoga routine with plenty of hip openers last night in the kitchen post-run. I can barely walk. The half marathon is in two weeks. I just want to ignore this until it's over and then figure out the next step, whether it be a massage or PT or foam rollering or ANYTHING BUT STOPPING.
The main issue for me is that I don't think I'm going to be able to finish the race. I pushed through the last three miles last night by sheer force of will, singing along to "All These Things That I've Done" through clenched teeth. My cardiovascular fitness is awesome, it's just that by mile 7 or so my legs stop working. My feet don't want to pick up off the ground, pains shoot through my knees, my feet ache, my arches fall. I don't want to entertain the idea that I may not be "built like a runner". My tiny, delicate, high arched feet might be causing these problems, but I don't know. I don't know how to fix it. I'm sick of buying new shoes every month or so, but my beautiful new Asics Nimbus 9s just aren't cutting it - my feet are swimming around in the 7.5 size, though the 7s squished my toes. Maybe I need narrow shoes. I don't know.
I'm witnessing and appreciating the affects a 9 mile run has on my mind and general sense of well-being and I don't want to lose that just because my body is being a party pooper.

The run itself was pretty fantastic. That loop around Pleasure Bay is mighty convenient, because it's about 2-3 miles but feels like nothing. It's so beautiful, even at night, and if I need to squeeze in an emergency long run, I can just loop around it twice and continue down the shore. I didn't stop once, and got up to what I'd probably estimate was a sub-9 minute mile several times. I still can't get over how beautiful Southie is at night. Looking at the city in the distance is kind of like a memory summary of my entire three years here, and then I see exactly how far I've come and how much further I have yet to go. I'm excited.

Cranky

It's been exactly a week since the 10k, meaning exactly a week since my last run. If I don't go for a run soon, I seriously am going to lose my mind. I've been taking it easy for the past week because of some aches & pains that I didn't want to take too lightly. Of course, by "taking it easy" I mean "spending two hours hiking a mountain that was so steep and precariously covered in loose rocks that I had to climb up parts of it on all fours and slide down other parts on my bum."
But still, it's no substitute for a good run, and I missed my scheduled 9-miler because I was stuck in the middle of a Mexico-truck extravaganza for five hours coming home from New York. Also missed my two scheduled 5-milers and scheduled 3-miler. This is not a good way to prepare for my first half-marathon.
RAR.

I signed up for this.

Note to self : Stretch. Seriously.
Saturday I ran an easy 9 miles, much to my surprise. On Monday, I ran the Tufts 10k for Women in 1:00:16 (a 9:42 pace, whoo!).
Neither of those times did I stretch, and now my right hip is out of joint or something and I am limping around all over the place.
Ow.
And I just signed up for a half-marathon in two weeks. Oh boy.

A touch of crazy

Reading all these posts about "taper madness", I've come to realize there's a bit of constant crazy in every runner, isn't there? As I approach my first full year of hardish-core running, the longest commitment I've ever made to anything remotely unpleasant (including college and boyfriends), I'm becoming more conscious of the root of that madness - the fear of losing this strange compulsion I've come to love and honestly depend on, so much.
Training has been patchy lately. I've not been getting in my two 5-milers per week, and last week I missed my long run. I plan on making that up on Monday when I do the Tufts Health Plan 10k for Women.
I've also been a little sick, but I managed to bang out five miles on Tuesday night. By the end of it the only thing running was my nose (har har har - sorry, I had to go there) and I felt like I was going to collapse, but at least it happened.
What I noticed though, was something I'd been ragingly upset about all weekend and probably through the end of last week doesn't upset me as much any more since that run. It's starting to build up again, but since I know I'll be doing an 8 or 9 miler on Saturday, it's not such a big deal. Weird.
At the same time, there's this terror in the back of my mind any time I feel less than invincible, that something is going to stop me from running. Forever. That's the madness. Every time there's a cramp, or a twinge in my leg, or the sniffles, I freak out a little bit. It's going to stop me from running, and then my quitaholic nature is just going to take over and decide to not start back up again.
I've felt for the past 8 months that I've been carrying on a relay race of my entire life. Every day I run I carry the baton further, and I'm a different person every time.
Now that's crazy for ya. But I'll take it.

Oops

Yesterday I accidentally ran almost 9 miles. Having a destination in mind makes it all the more fun for me. My friend S who is getting married next weekend needed some help putting together placetags and programs, and like all brides-to-be, I'm sure she relished the thought of some hands-on help from a sweaty, stinky running pal. Soooo, off I went to Davis Square with my carefully mapped 7.1 mile route.

My schedule said 7, and I was nervous because that would be the longest distance I'd run in training (not counting the Falmouth Road Race). My legs felt like lead and it was pouring rain, but I slogged along through Southie, through downtown, through the North End, through Beacon Hill, over the bridge into Cambridge, up over the ever-sketch McGrath Hwy bridge, and when I got under said bridge and felt too much like I was going to end up in the opening scene of an episode of CSI, I hightailed it down Somerville Ave and got lost. I just kept pathetically chugging down Mass Ave until I started to feel like maybe I was about to end up in Medford, and that was Not Good. It was a tough run, but I was not expecting to see 9.2 miles when I looked at my iPod. Luckily, I called S and she directed me down a side street and I only had to backtrack a bit. I stopped by the corner store to get a delicious Gatorade G2, only to find they had a debit card minumum and I had no cash. I must have looked so crushed, drowned-ratty, and bedraggled, because the cashier gave it to me for free and said I should just get him "next time". Of course I'll be taking the T out to Davis again to give him his 1.25, because that kind of awesomeness is rare these days. And it was a DELICIOUS beverage.

Tonight I WILL do my Stretch & Strengthen, even if that's just a couple downward dogs and some pushups.

Iron unpumped

At my weekend gym, someone colorformed a pumpkin face onto a big orange kettlebell. There is no way I would ever be able to lift that kettlebell, but part of me feels like I am neglecting it anyway, because of that cheerful pumpkin face. I've been running regularly, and apparently it's paying off, but I haven't done any cross-training in weeks and I should really remedy that.

One of my major problems with weightlifting is that I go all out, and that results in serious pain in a couple days. If I continued to workout regularly, I would get used to it and wouldn't be in agony for five days after I did squats, but doing aforementioned squats makes my lower body hurt so badly that I can't do squats for five days. It's a vicious cycle. Here's a tip that is SO EASY and works SO WELL and yet for some reason I don't do it - Do squats while brushing your teeth, and counter pushups while swishing mouthwash (if you use it). If I do this regularly, it seriously helps me keep my legs and arms used to these movements without adding extra weight, when I do add the weight for a real workout my resulting pain level a much more manageable "Badass" rather than a crippling "Geriatric".

Suddy 5-miler

Yesterday I crushed my 5-mile PR by over five minutes.
45:50
9:10/mile
Wheeeee!

Are you ready for some FOOTBALL?

Yesterday marked the first of my fall running adventure expeditions. I'm always pretty excited for football season, not because I'm a huge football fan, but because I always go to my brother's house and watch the Patriots while drinking craft brews and eating pizza. It's always a good time, and even though we're have now entered the Matt Cassel Zone, there's still beer and pizza and my brother & friends.
When I started training for this half thing, I devised the brilliant plan to take the T out to a certain pre-decided stop and run the rest of the way to his house, and then watch the game. It's the perfect Sunday plan!

I have to say, I was in absolutely no mood to run yesterday. But I threw on all my "fancy running gear" (which is what my brother calls spandex) and set off. I'd mapped out a 6-mile route that started at Coolidge Corner in Brookline and ended up at Pat's house in Newton Upper Falls. Since I'd only really been running the same Southie loop, this was a nice change of scenery. The weather wasn't great, it was disgustingly humid but also really windy and occasionally rainy. I'd worn a light jacket, which made things even stickier, but I didn't want to get caught in the rain or a sudden change in temperature. I struggled up Beacon Street and past the Chestnut Hill Reservoir, but once I got around the Reservoir and started getting into new territory, things started looking up. Especially after the big hill right after the Reservoir. It was mostly flat or downhill after that, and I got into my groove, listening to the latest podcast of "This American Life". By the time I got past the 4 mile mark, I was breezing along and enjoying the unique scenery of Newton. By the time I got to 6, it turns out I'd overrun my destination and ended up trying to crawl through some overgrown vines and muddy puddles near the route 9 bridge. I had to backtrack and treated myself to a tasty grape gatorade G2 and a couple of bananas.
And Lance Armstrong came on my iPod and congratulated me on my longest workout yet :)
6.04 miles
56:28
9:20/mile
(though it was probably inflated by that liar Nike+, I'm pretty proud of myself.)

Things I need

1. A plan.
Last night as I was running around in the dark, I was reminded yet again that I need to formulate a different strategy for the coming months. It's not going to be smart or even possible at times to do 4-mile runs at 10:30 pm in November. It's going to be extremely cold, dark, and unpleasant. On the upside, there probably won't be as many ne'erdoell youngsters hanging about under the streetlamps.
My options are few. I can just continue to run at night, I can run indoors (UGGGGHZ), or I can run in the morning before work (DOUBLE TRIPLE UGGGGHZZZZ). In addition to the night bit, I'm going to have to worry about the cold and snow soon. Cold air + my lungs = sometimes severe coughing fits due to something a Scottish doctor called "reactive airway disease" (which I developed over ten years ago while living in a country where everyone smokes in public). It is NHS diagnosed so I take it with a grain of salt, but still. Something to think about. I'll at least be purchasing some nice winter running clothes - mainly tights, gloves, and something for my ears. So at least I get a field trip to the New Balance Outlet out of this.

2. New shoes.
While they're generally fine, my Asics Equation 2s need to be replaced and upgraded. After going through several pairs of unsatisfactory shoes, I've found that the Asics fit my feet the best by far of any, but they still aren't exactly what I need. I need more cushioning, especially in the forefoot. Sometimes my current sneaks make me feel like I am forcefully applying the ball of my foot directly to the concrete of the sidewalk. The girl at Marathon Sports told me I have perfect biomechanics, but I think I might need a touch of stability because of how small my feet are - when I get fatigued they tend to roll in to take the pressure off my ankles. I'm going to look at the Nimbus (though it might as well be plated in solid gold) and the Adidas Supernova Cushion (which I had good luck with back in college, I memory serves me correctly).

3. A crazy running buddy (or several).
I don't need someone to train with - while I've gotten over my complex about running with people, I mostly prefer to run alone, especially given my preference for wacky running conditions (dark, rain, large bridges with water on both sides and no lights). But I would really like to have a buddy who would do races with me, and not just local ones. For example, I'd love to know someone crazy enough to take the ferry out to Martha's Vineyard this Sunday to run the the Vineyard Haven Run to the Chop 5k with me. Or go to Portland, Maine. It's not that I mind racing alone, it would just be more fun travel-wise. My bro is too cranky and I always have to pay his race fees (though he is my best running pal), roommate C is too fast and she's busy training for a tri, roommate D is also too fast and training for a marathon. Nobody else I know runs. Or like to take crazy random road/ferry trips.

4. Speed.
I have a need for speed. Not for any real competitive reason, I'm never going to be FAST. It's just getting slightly ridiculous that no matter what I do and how long I've been running, I'm still stuck at a 10 min/mile average (Nike lies so I try not to listen to its sweet siren song of 8:30 miles. Last night I did some intervals at the end of my run and let me tell you, I was blaaaazing along. Still, it was just under a 10 minute mile average for those four miles. What gives? However, speed intervals are definitely a faster way to get home, so I'll be keeping those in my arsenal. Perhaps I also have to find a track? We shall see.

5. Better food.
When I first starting "seriously" training (anything that involves a calendar with stuff written on it that regards some action on my part I consider "serious") I went first became totally ravenous. It's settled down a bit now, and I've gone back to my ways of eating candy for at least two meals per day. Not okay. I need to base my diet around healthy things. Luckily, I have access to the school cafeteria for cheaps and can get on a decent meal plan for staff and load up on salad and delicious veggie pastas and perhaps take a banana for the road.

Race report - Thompson Island 4k

Busytimes.

I didn't even ask for the afternoon off, but I had roped my bro into doing the Thompson Island 4k, which kicked off at 3:30. We had to both sneak out of work to make it to the ferry, which took us on a leisurely ride out to the island. Pat was super cranky because his knee has been hurting for a really long time, and because he was hungover, and because he hadn't asked for the day off. When we got there, I made him go over to the sports chiropractors table. The girl helped stretch him out and massaged his leg and just like I had thought, he has ITB syndrome. In fact, so bad that the chiro girl was calling over all her co-workers to feel his scar tissue.
So hey kids, don't run on old crappy shoes for a year. Mkay?

The race itself sucked. I'm not going to mince words here. It was severely unfun. I took off too fast, there were tonnnns of hills (as it was a trail race on an island) and it was possibly one of the hottest days this summer despite being September. My lungs were burning. I managed to get through a mile without walking, but after that I had a couple spots when I just had to stop. My mouth was full of dirt, I was sweating like a hoss, and I couldn't even enjoy the beautiful view because I had to look at the ground to make sure I didn't step into a hole or on a rock.
I honestly thought I might not make it. Also, probably should have eaten more than a slice of watermelon and a hunk of cheese all day. Oops.
Soon enough, it was over, and I'd earned myself a nice crappy time but not anything to be proud of. Not last though.
It's always the races with free beer and food that I do the worst at.
But I still get the free beer and food and t-shirt, and in this case, and awesome picnic on a friggin' island on a Thursday when I otherwise would have been at work.
So, awesome.
I need to find a running club or something. I just need to get better, take it to the next level, whatever you want to call it. I shouldn't be crapping out on a 2.5 mile run.

Anyway, back to watching the politics!

Faster with family

When I first started running, the idea of running with someone else was kind of scary and just not something I wanted to do. That's why I adjusted my typical "I want to run a 5K" goal to "I want to be able to run the 5K distance but not actually do a race because that would mean running with people". Ironically, changing that goal to better suit my abilities at the time is what gave me the confidence to actually run my first 5k race, and the subsequent five races I've run this year to date.
However, I've still not been one to run with other folks aside from at races. But, my brother has been getting more into running since I started (it's contagious!), and we've talked about doing a short run together for awhile and since I love my new running route in Southie, he came out to visit last night and we did a 3-mile loop.
Pat had to stop after about a mile or so and we walked the rest of it, since he's been plagued with knee pain. (which sounds very much like ITB syndrome, but he refuses to go to the doctor. I have e-mailed all our friends at his work and instructed them to harass them until he makes an appt.)
So we only really managed about a mile run, but hoo boy was that the fastest and most consistent mile I've ever run. My bro is 6'4" with long legs and I am most decidedly not that. His slow jog is my all-out sprint.
This morning I was reading this post, which got me thinking about running with friends. For me, it is not easier at all. It's harder, and that's probably why it's good. It's "Faster With Family".

Minor League Ouch

Welcome, it is time for out weekly installment of Aches & Pains : Whinging About Stuff that Hurts. It's a nice time for a break from all that wacky positive self-talk. Let's dive right in.

-Saturday is my cross training day. I hate cross training, because that usually means I have to go to the gym. I really hate the gym. Last Saturday I used the stationary bike for half an hour. It wasn't much fun, especially because the only thing on TV was that Lifetime movie about Amy Fisher starring Alyssa Milano. I kind of wanted to light myself on fire.
This past Saturday, I decided I didn't want to go to the gym and that I'd be "lazy" and stay home and do a kettlebell circuit for 30 minutes while watching the Red Sox get their arses handed to them. That's basically 30 straight minutes of minor squatting and swinging around 15 solid pounds of iron. Throw in some pushups and lunges and stuff, and you know what you get two days later? That's right, Tight Biker Shorts of Pain. I had a good 4 mile run on Sunday, but that didn't really help the TBSoP sitch. Currently I am hobbling around like an old cowboy. Stretching would probably be a good idea, I should get on that.

-Tuesday on my schedule says "2 miles or cross". So today I strapped on my trusty backpack again and ran to work. Boy, was it a perfect morning for a run. Sunny, cool, breezy. The problem is, I can not run in the morning. That worries me in and of itself, but is a discussion for another time. Anyway, I rolled my L.A. out of bed this morning, threw on my clothes and backpack, had some iced coffee and set off. It was tough. Yes, my 2-mile run is the toughest run of the week. Maybe because I had a backpack on, maybe because of the TBSoP, maybe because I had the wind in my face the ENTIRE WAY, maybe because I kept running past people walking around in their work clothes and wanted them to think I was badass so I ran faster than I should. It. Was. Harrrrd. To add insult to injury, I totally ate pavement right in front of South Station in the middle of the biggest crowd of suits ever. I did my best not to look at any of them and just got up and kept running. Urgh. My palms are all skinned.

-My knees are starting to bother me. I'm a bit oversensitive to pain since I started running, because I've historically had a habit of ignoring stuff until it turns out I have two sprained wrists or pneumonia or whatnot. So every time I have a twinge, the referee in my brain throws a flag on me faster than I can blink. I don't want to develop knee problems. I also don't want to have to buy new shoes every two months, which is what seems to help every time the knees start wimping out.

-Speaking of shoes, mine are too small and they make my toes go numb. I'm okay with this because I'm in the minority and like my shoes to fit small, especially in the forefoot. My feet are tiny, delicate flowers made of bones and stuff and they like to be cradled closely in the confines of high tech mesh and foam and not sliding all around in a "roomy toe box". My Asics are the same size as my street shoes (7) which I believe is somewhat unusual for running shoes. I'll probably go up a half size on my next pair.

-Also my back hurts and I think I'm coming down with a cold. And I have to go to the dentist today. Wah.

Running vs. jelly beans

Nike+ lies. But oh, what sweet lies it tells.
Look! I am so fast! Wheeeeee!
I also have absolutely no sense of pace, apparently. That's a cold hard truth right there.



This was one of those "I need to get these miles in and I'm going to run as fast as I can because it's 10:30 at night and what I really want to be doing is lying in bed eating jelly beans" runs. And I realized a few things.
1) I can run faster than I thought (but not as fast as that shifty Nike+ tells me).
2) Running faster than a 9 min/mile pace feels like an all-out-lung-busting-sprint.
3) I probably shouldn't eat candy in bed anyway.

For the love of food

I have a secret. I'm not very good at secrets, so I've managed to keep it for a whole week. Sort of. I mean, I told my friend McG and she told everyone we know because she's kind of like a proud mama, so I guess it's not really a secret any more. But I digress.
Anyway, here it is, for the whole internet to witness.
I'm training for a half marathon.
That does not necessarily mean I am going to ACTUALLY RUN a half marathon. That is Crazy Talk. I am however following a training plan (the Hal Higdon Novice plan) at the end of which I will suppooooossedly be able to run 13.1 miles straight. We'll see about that. I mean, the last day of the plan does just happen to coincide with the Manchester City Marathon & Half Marathon, and I do happen to be a stone's throw away from good ol' ManchVegas. But that's just a coincidence.

Anyway, the point of this is that in order to step up my running and general fitness level, I have to step up my eating habits as well and I just don't know how to do that. I've noticed that since I started running more, I have been absolutely RAVENOUS. I don't generally have a huge appetite (especially in the summer), and I use most of that appetite eating tasty things that aren't good for me, so this newfound hungryness is kind of hard to deal with.
Yesterday was my "long run" day, and I ate a bag of butter lovers popcorn and half a pan of brownies for my after-dinner snack.
Now, I'm not sure if this is related, but this morning when I got to work and started sucking down my iced coffee as per usual, I started to feel so incredibly ill I almost didn't make it through the day. After a lunch of Pepto and saltines (reason #467 to love self-checkout) I started feeling better, but I still had to come home and take a nap.
I need sustenance. I need healthy sustenance and enough of it that I don't run out of all the healthy stuff in the house and start digging into the sour patch kids at 4pm on any given weekday. That is not going to make me feel good. At all. I'm starting to think that frankly, I can't eat vast amounts of candy any more or my blood sugar level is going to plummet, leaving my gasping for breath and dragging my feet halfway through a four mile run. And that will just not do.
I'm also wondering if I should try and give up caffeine. Just for a bit. The thought of that turns my blood to ice, but I can probably do it for a whole week. Next week. Or maybe the week after.
Also beer. But only crap beer, which I shouldn't be drinking anyway, because it is gross and I hate it. I refuse to give up Guinness. Guinness is good for me.
This should be interesting.

Dread the tread.

I have always loathed the treadmill. It is evil, and I historically have partially blamed it for my running quitatude every winter. I have used it as a metaphor for my life when feeling particularly broody and existential. It is boring, it is annoying, and it hurts.
When I decided to really make the commitment to run again (by which I mean more than a mile or two, which was my former max) I took a different approach. I started my training on the treadmill in the winter. Poof, there went one quitting excuse (as this rapidly-flying summer draws to a close, it is remains to be seen how I will approach the winter months. But that is for a later date).
Many years ago when I was a youngster, I was at the gym with my baby bro and he decided to use the treadmill. He was maybe 11 or 12, and wanted to run to get ready for basketball season. Precious. Anyway, he gets on the 'mill and starts it up and starts chugging along. Soon, he realizes his shoe is untied and hops off the machine. He ties it, and hops back on. Without stopping the belt. Needless to say, he gets flung off the belt and against the wall. It was funny enough and nobody was hurt, but when I started treadmilling it up for serious back in January that image kept playing in my head like some sort of wacky Brain YouTube. I was afraid to set the darn thing above a 5mph pace lest I get thrown against the wall.
The last time I got on a treadmill was several months ago, back when it was still cold and I was still on a walk/run plan. So today when I was trying to squeeze in some quick lunchbreak miles, I went back to face my old foe.
Two miles, at a pace of between 6mph & 7mph.
And I didn't fly off.
Take that, treadmill.

Anyway. One more treadmill problem is that it kills my legs. It really really bangs the heck out of my shins. I don't know what it is, I always hear that a treadmill is an easier surface to run on, and I do most of my runs on concrete, but when I'm done with a treadmill workout my lower legs hurt something fierce. They hurt to the touch. Which I'm pretty sure is the very opposite of good.
I'm not sure what to do about that. I think I should keep my treadmill runs to a minimum of 2-3 miles, but in the winter I'm sure there will be some days I won't be able to hack it outdoors. I just won't. I'm being honest here.
The other solution is just, well, go faster. Then it'll all be over sooner. Right?

rainy day people

Yeah, I ran to work this morning.
In the rain.
With a full backpack.
No big deal.

Falmouth Road Race - Race report

the way i'm going to go on about this you'd think i'd run a marathon or something.

last night my landlords had a rager of a party in the backyard.
they were playing outkast & justin timberlake very very loudly.
it was still going on when i got up (notice i didn't say "woke up", that would entail sleeping) at 4:30 this morning.my dad picked me up at 5.
he'd had to stay up all night. i already had arranged a ride courtesy of the extreme generosity of a good friend/part-time superhero, but my dad insisted on taking me, i believe for the following reasons.
1) he hates the idea of me imposing on anyone who isn't in the family (understandable).
2) he felt bad about saying he'd take me and then forgetting (the forgetting is TOTALLY understandable, he and mom were kind of homeless. been there, dudes.)
3) i think he sometimes still thinks i am 14 and shouldn't have friends who are boys.
needless to say, dad was a loopy mess for the entire day, but he's generally funniest that way.

anyway, i was overly paranoid about getting there on time, and we ended up getting to the buses before 7am. there was NO traffic. so i got on the first bus which took me to the starting line, where i had approximately 3 hours to wander around, do nothing, and get really nervous. luckily, i happened to walk by a small church right as the morning mass was starting, and hung out in the back for a little bit. there was one other runner there, so i didn't feel extremely weird, but weird enough not to stay for the whole thing. still, i left with the usual sense of calm that accompanies such ventures.
that left me with about an hour and a half to stretch, use the toilet eight times, lie around on the grass, listen to other people's conversations, and barge through ridiculous crowds of people with reckless disregard for human life to try and deduce the source of where everyone was getting those free bananas (no luck).

the wheelchairs took off first, and then the elite runners (those people don't even touch the ground. they hover. it's unreal.) with close to 11,000 runners, it was more than a little congested at first, but the use of several different starting groups helped. the streets were lined with spectators, and the Hood blimp hovered above as we waited at the start.
honestly, i didn't think i was going to finish. i'd never run more than five miles, i'd been lax in my training for the past couple weeks, and i was exhausted and starving. i gave myself permission to take walk breaks if i needed to, and as long as i finished, i'd be satisfied with that. but then the gun went off, and so did i.
the race course is so gorgeous i can't even describe it. after we went up the first hill and past the lighthouse, it was a beautiful view of the ocean and then into the woods for some much-appreciated shade. after that it's pretty much all ocean again for awhile until the last mile or so which is residential and then back around another lighthouse and down a hill to the finish.i remember telling myself that i could easily do 5K and then if i had to walk, i'd walk. that went by pretty quickly, so i told myself i've done five miles and if i do just a little bit more, i can walk. next thing i know i'm passing the 6 mile marker, and when i got to the final hill (it's a doooooozy) i realized i was going to finish the whole damn thing and started grinning like an idiot. then i saw my dad on the sidelines and had to wave at him and jump around because he didn't see me. it was all downhill to the finish, which was marked by a gigantic american flag hoisted into the air by a crane. it was beautiful, and i started to tear up a little, and next thing i know, i was done and i'd finished a 7.1 mile road race without stopping or walking (except for drink water/walk fast breaks of a couple seconds, choking doesn't help anyone run faster).
i am capable of so much more than i ever thought.
1:11:24

i hear tell that the winner ran the thing in 32 minutes or something absolutely insane.but you know what was really amazing? the blind runners, those with Down Syndrome, with various disabilities, running with guides helping them to the finish. the people with knee braces on who were pushing through it anyway, the older folks who shuffled their way from start to finish. even, as my mom would so graciously say, "all the fat girls". they have more determination and perseverance in their little fingers than i do in my whole body. they were all truly inspiring. and

the spectators were amazing. they lined the streets for nearly the whole course, handing out water and spraying us with their garden hoses. rows of young children waited with their hands outstretched as if we were all famous athletes. if there's anything that keeps a sista going, it's a little-kid-high-five.

after it was over i wandered around in a haze collecting race shwag and eating popsicles. the RMH folks had a cookout, and we went to that for a bit, but dad was about to pass out so we headed home.

hilarious dad moment - dad : "I probably should lock up the car, I have half my wardrobe, a TV, and a Winchester rifle in there". (this is true, he did have all of those things in the car).

the countdown

Good solid 4 miles tonight. I might even dare call it a tempo run. Aside from a block or so of shuffling, I was really chugging along. By the time I rounded the corner to home and started cooling down, I was really getting into it and felt like I could probably go a few more.
Hopefully I will still feel that way on Sunday.
Getting some knee pain, and starting to feel like my shoes are not cutting it. They're still the best shoes I've worn, I just really feel like I need to replace my shoes every 50 miles or so. Which isn't practical. Anyway I'll just try and do some stretching, and relax until Sunday!

Eating a dinner of skittles and microwave popcorn is probably NOT good pre-race nutrition...or pre-anything nutrition.

FINALLY

Managed to have a good run tonight, about five miles. Lately I've been plagued with the dreaded side-stitch again, which is the reason I was never able to run in the first place. I'd found a trick to make it go away, and hadn't had any problems since but for the past week or so it was back with a vengeance and there was nothing I could do about it. It wasn't something I could run through, it was more along the lines of what appendicitis is probably like. I had to shuffle home bent over. So I've just been doing my best to keep hydrated, and that seemed to work.
Months ago when I started running, I joked that the pain just migrated around my body. Once I figured out how to beat the stitch, it was my shins next. Once I got past that, it was my lungs. Then my right shoulder (weird). Every time I got rid of a pain, it'd move somewhere else.
I'll never get over how amazing the view of Boston is at sunset from the Castle Island causeway. It's breathtaking.
OMDSFLKJJSDFLKSJDFLSDKF the race is NEXT SUNDAY!

Race report - FIVE MILES

Oh, hello internet. It's a lovely evening in Southie, and yours truly here just ROCKED A FIVE MILE ROAD RACE. Suck on THAT, New Year's Resolutions.

I am so ridiculously proud of myself it's kind of embarrassing.

My neighborhood is amazing. Walking home from the Expo center with a dopey smile on my face, the sun was setting across the ocean and I heard the slightly off-pitch but still dulcet tones of an aging Sinatra impersonator and all was right with the world. I still had my race number on and oldtimers with their dogs and cigars clapped for me.

While I feel like I'm getting faster, according to most race results I'm sticking at around a ten minute mile (shut up, I never said I was fast). Near the end, my whole body was tingling, my arm was numb, and I felt like I was going to throw up. Then my Amazing DenialBrainBot4000 (usually utilized to convince myself that I'm not in love with people and/or don't need any friends) took over and by the time I reached the finish chute I passed eight people and almost forgot to stop.

Considering all I've had to eat today was half a salad and a handful of trail mix, I'm pretty impressed. Though I know that's not a healthy diet. And I've been so soul-crushingly sad for the past few weeks I could barely put one foot in front of the other, much less train for a race. Or get through a single hour of a single day without crying. (More on that later, because while it pains me to write about it or admit much of what has been going on, it must be done because a life without honesty is just stupid. Life is short, and I'm pretty sure that at the end of it there's nobody handing out cookies for not talking about stuff.)

Anyway I wish my roommate was home because I want to go drink a Guinness. That counts as dinner, right?

FIVE MILES, DUDES. FIVE. That's FOUR MORE THAN ONE, which is what I could barely run six months ago.

The below photos are from around mile 4.5 or so. I love that my face is all puppies and fluffy clouds but inside I'm cursing the day I was born and wishing I could curl up for a nice nap in the middle of Day Boulevard.

Race report - Artesani Park 5k

My official time has yet to be posted, but it was either a flat 30 or 29:59. A minute plus better than my last run on this same course, despite the heat and the fact I walked what I felt was a substantial part of the race. The walking was totally due to lack of mental toughness, and it makes me angry, but at the same time I must have been really hauling to still have beaten my previous time.
This race was much smaller than the last, and there was this hilarious group of Cougars (I don't know what really qualifies them as Cougars, but they were older and hotter than me so Cougs they are) gushing over the young male runners who were obviously going to win the thing with their tiny shorts and complete lack of body fat (and shirts).

New shoes

On a whim, I got a new pair of running shoes on Saturday. My leg pain was getting so bad I was convinced I had compartment syndrome and that there was nothing I could do to fix it and I should stop buying new shoes because they're expensive and maybe I'm just not meant to be a runner and ARRRRRGH. But, I found these lovely Asics Equation 2s at some discount shoe store and the difference from my month-old Rykas is absolutely astounding. I mean, they've created some new problems, namely that my toes now go numb and the collar of the shoe gives me ankle blisters but those problems are all run-through-able so I don't care. For serious though, it's like I'm running on clouds. I ran a nice 4+ loop around Castle Island in the mist and at the end, I felt like I could have kept going. So, take that legs. It's just me and you now, lungs. BRING IT.

On Sunday, I went to the gym. The FitCorp has majorly stocked up on kettlebells since I started there. This is exciting. I can only go there on weekends, but I think I want to at least try to make it for one weekend day every week. Of course, I am not very smart with numbers, and so I think I thought 12kg was a lot closer to 12lbs than it actually is, and ended up squatting & military pressing 2 12kg kettlebells which I think now is closer to 50 lbs? It felt good though. There were some old guys down there who looked at me really funny as I took my shoes off and repeatedly hoisted two cannonballs over my head, and letting out the occasional very ladylike grunt.

Smuttynose Will Run for Beer 5k

Smuttynose "Will Run For Beer" 5k

The best race I've been too, and yet the most unpleasant and my worst 5k time to date. Whatever though, there was free beer and really ugly race tshirts. (Seriously, guys. Comic Sans? Is it discounted or something because it's such a joke? I don't know how this stuff works. Oh well, free is free.)
The four of us (me, Claire, and racing newbies Pat and Jenna) set off for the Land of the Free at around 8:30 after some confusion about our Zipcar (mainly that it wasn't there). We arrived in plenty of time, and went to pick up our numbers (on a super-immature sidenote, Pat was dissapointed that Jenna & I got numbers 67 and 68 and he somehow got 219 even though we'd all registered at the same time. Oh, ha ha).
While the race was chip timed and pretty well organized, it was still very casual. There was a guy with a mic who just said "go!" and it got clogged up for a minute or two at the front.
It was shaping up to be a hot day. Many of the good residents of Newmarket had placed sprinklers on the side of the street and I made it my business to jump through all of them. I seriously think I might be the sweatiest skinny white girl on the planet. When I'm doing a hard run, my face gets so red people stare at me in alarm. Just sayin'.
Pat immediately took the lead of the four of us (of course), and then Claire was behind him and Jenna and I jogged together for a minute or two before I started pulling ahead of her so none of us ran together the whole time. There was a loop-around where other runners would pass us, and Claire passed me at the corner and waved, then when I came to that corner Jenna was running into the loop so I waved at her. She yelled "THIS SUCKS!" at me, apparently making a lot of friends in the back of the pack.
I managed to run mile 1, but was getting really fatigued going into mile 2. I really didn't want to walk, since that's been my main goal in all of this, but my vision started to go a bit blurry so I figured it'd be best to walk a bit so I slowed right before the water stop. I drank one cup and dumped another one on my head. The rest was kind of a blur, running through sprinklers and trying to keep my pace up but I ended up walking for probably 3 or 4 minutes on and off.
The last part was an incredible steep hill, and I charged up that, collapsing on the grass with a lame stupid time of 35:12 (11:22 min/mile). Pat did great with a 28:16, Claire did 31:02 and Jenna came charging up the hill at 35:56.
Surprisingly (or not?) we all really did want a delicious, cold, frosty beer after that. Smutty is one of my faves so I was pretty excited. There was also tons of free pizza, wings, chili, bananas, various sports drinks we lumped together as "Haterade", and of course karaoke to set the mood. We spent the rest of the afternoon drinking Shoals Pale Ale and Smutty IPA and eating pizza and chilling at the Old Stone Church. Really really good times.

All in your head

I read somewhere that running any distance beyond 3 miles is all in your head. I can only really run 3 miles, so I wonder if that means I have a weak mind. That's a depressing thought, but I wouldn't doubt it. How do I make my mind stronger? Jedi mind tricks? Wiggling my ears and rolling my eyes at the same time?
Or how about just flipping running more than 3 miles? Just DOING it. Somehow, I feel like there's some secret thing I need to do, some magic spell, some person I have to become and then POOF, I'll be able to run 10 miles. Telling myself that's not true doesn't seem to get the concept through my head though. Feeling guilty and weak just discourages me into not trying anymore, and that's no good.
The physical benefits of my quasi-running are obvious. My cardiovascular fitness has improved monumentally, for instance. When I started, I'd easily break 180 bpm running an 11 minute mile, now I'm at a comfortable 140-160 running a 9 minute mile. Can't keep up the 9 minute mile for more than 5 minutes, but hey.
Maybe the key is to just stop obsessing about 5 minutes and 9 minutes and 3 miles and just run all these silly thoughts out of my head.

No Stopping Now

Today I ran 4 miles. I almost didn't want to since I'd forgotten my iPod at work, and I had so much cleaning to do, and I am chock full to the brim with excuses, but I did it anyway and feel all the better for it.
It's lilac season and the Fens smelled like all of my best childhood memories. I crossed over to do the Riverway loop, and it was teeming with fluffy goslings. You really can't beat that kind of a cotton candy a rainbows evening. Not having music made me more aware of my surroundings, and looking up at the street signs that read "NO STOPPING ALLOWED" was oddly inspiring. So I didn't stop. Except when I would have otherwise been run over, which I think is fair.
No music also made me more aware of my own stride and my breathing pattern, which made me realize I really wasn't nearly as winded as I'd thought. And it also made me start humming very odd songs to myself, like old stuff from church camp, folk songs, stuff my mom made up, Christmas Carols. Before I knew it, I was home and couldn't feel my toes or my right arm.
Maybe it's just my low expectations of myself, but I'm still pretty excited that I can run more than a mile. I never in a million years thought I'd be able to run four. It's really shown me that just because something is possible, doesn't mean it's possible NOW. I always thought three miles was such a short distance that I should be able to do it right away, and that's the kind of thinking that has been derailing my progress for the last several years. It wasn't until I found a plan that enforced slow progress that I started to make any progress at all.
I am a slow learner at physical things. It always took me far longer to learn dance combinations, it took me three months to learn how to dive, and I fell thirty-seven consecutive times before I finally got up on waterskis for the first time. But you know what? Most other people would have quit long before I did. I had to get rugburns on my feet from practicing, spend hours at a time in the deep end of the pool, and faceplant into a lake thirty-seven times in a freaking row. And in the end, I accomplished what I set out to do. That, is the important thing. So I will continue to pat myself on the back for baby steps.

When does it get easier? I did almost 4.5 miles today, but much of that was quick walking breaks and wanting to vomit. How do people just start running and keep going? Not worrying about their knees or lungs or stomach or the traffic or how totally insane it is to be running around in a circle for 45 minutes?
Still, I do feel kind of awesome about it now. Maybe that's some sort of answer.

Race report #2

Architecture for Humanity 5K
30:52

Way too early this morning the stove caught my favorite (okay, only) coffeepot on fire. The gas flames got too big for their britches and had an unfortunate meeting with the one plastic part on the thing, and now my stove is covered in melted plastic, the kitchen smells like crap, and I am down one coffeepot. The coffee came out fine, but when your favorite coffeepot has just caught on fire, there's nothing that can't be made better with some strategic cursing and a liberal splash of whiskey. So, at around 8am, I set off slightly intoxicated and pissed off to my second 5k race of the year/my life.
Long story short, when I finished the race I was no longer either of those things, so yay running!
This was an awesome race around the Charles River out by Harvard/Allston. The weather was perfect, sunny and breezy, and the course was almost all flat. I actually passed ten people (I counted), and though I only beat my previous time by a minute and am still running at around 10 min/mile, I was quite pleased.
Nacho and his friend Matt were there, which was a very nice surprise. They waited for me at the finish line and gave me high fives and back pats, which I must say, are even better than free race t-shirts (which I did not get). Hopefully will see them again tonight.
The Charles River Cleanup event was also taking place, and many of the volunteers participating paused their work and stopped to cheer and give high fives and yell encouragement to the runners. I realized then that running piddly short charity races is probably the closest I will ever get to my childhood dream of being a professional baseball player. And that's okay with me, it's probably closer than lots of people get to their childhood dreams of being ballerina astronaut pony farmers or whatever.
I'm starting to feel like running twice this distance is maybe not as much of an impossible feat as I originally thought. Not quite ready to try it out yet though. My new shoes are awesome, and what I originally thought might be stress fractures in both my ankles doesn't seem to have gotten any worse.
My back hurts, my feet hurt, my legs hurt, and I feel good.

Marathon Monday

This afternoon, as I was walking my L.A. to the gym after leaving work early for no reason, I was so inspired seeing all the marathoners limping back from the finish line. Many covered in big silver capes, like the superheroes they probably are.
So I went to the gym, pumped to slog through my typical three miles on the treadmill, only to find out, after I finished dressed, that I had not brought any socks.
After some considerable colorful language, I tried to give myself the "Do It Anyway!" pep talk, like I do when I forget my iPod or headband, but there is only so much insanity that one can pep talk oneself into. So I went home.
I think I either have to am about to have a stress fracture in my right shin. Still, I signed up for another 5K for this coming weekend, even though I haven't been able to run the distance since the last one.
This is probably a bad idea.

Motiva...what?

Since finishing the race, I've been having a really hard time getting back into my running. I know it's totally mental, I know. But it doesn't help. I was jogging along at my typical 10-min mile pace today, and it was the most beautiful evening in the Fens, and there was really no reason to feel like I couldn't go on. I was just so uninspired.
Then it hit me.
Run faster.
So I ran faster.
And it felt really, really good.
The downside is, I realized that my lack of motivation was only partly mental and also partly something wrong with my lower legs, so I had to stop eventually anyway.

I need some big fluffy cloud shoes to run in.

First race

Yesterday, I ran my first race, The Nashua Soup Kitchen Run for Food & Shelter. Considering I never thought I'd be able to run more than a mile and haven't intentionally run with another person since 4th grade track, this was a pretty big accomplishment. All I wanted to do was finish the race without stopping, and I did that. At the finish line, I almost blacked out, but thank goodness there were tons of free sandwiches.

My mom brought me to the race, but in typical my mom fashion, she went to Dunkin' Donuts and lost track of time so when I crossed the finish line, she wasn't there. Ohhh, my mom. She came wandering into the gymnasium about fifteen minutes later saying "I'm so sorry honey, I knew you couldn't still be running because I saw all these fat girls finishing and I knew you would have beaten the fat girls." She wouldn't stop talking about "the fat girls". I kept trying to explain to her that they were probably much better runners than I, and more power to them for doing the race, but she just wouldn't saying insensitive things in her outdoor voice. So I just sat on the grass for a couple minutes trying not to throw up and then staggered into the gymnasium to get some free food, even though I could barely hold up my plate.

I need to start running some hills. That's what made this particular race so difficult, is that it had a very slight incline right at the beginning and then again at the end and it was difficult to recover from.

In conclusion, 192/297, 31:06, 10:01 pace

Resolutions

So today seems as good a day as any to start a fitness blog. I kind of wish I'd started in a couple months ago when I first decided to get in shape, so I could actually track the pretty decent progress I've made, but alas I am lazy and afraid to be all gung ho about something I might forget, and then have evidence of my failure when I inevitably slink off in a cloud of shame and self-doubt.

New Year's Resolutions are a dime a dozen, and I usually don't take them too seriously, but this year I made two.
1. Be physically able to run 3.1 miles straight. I didn't have to run an actual race, just make it for that distance.
2. Drink more Guinness. I live in Boston, where everyone is at least a little Irish if only from bumping into real Irish people on the T, so this one wasn't going to be a problem.

Of course, I mostly forgot about #1.

Anyway, a couple months ago I was out on the town with a couple friends and as per usual we'd all had about seven too many Guinni (see, not a problem). Long story short, some Leprechaunesque dude gave my friend Jenna some crap about her hair for absolutely no reason, and made her cry. I tried to roundhouse kick him in the head, but failed miserably and had to settle for an emphatic "You sir, are SHORT!" and drag Jenna off while she hysterically tried to extract an apology from the loser.
I decided then and there that I must get in shape, if only to defend myself and my friends from the collar-popping douchebags who roam these city streets.

So I started running for serious. Again. I've started and stopped running/working out/etc so many times I can't even keep track. The most I'd run before this was maybe two miles at a time, and that was maybe once. I got a Nike+iPod kit and started the Health.com 5K program. I liked this training plan because it started me off with more jogging/running than the Couch to 5K and I generally like running, mostly away from things like my problems. I started with 3/2 intervals and eventually got up to 4/1 intervals with a mile pace of 13:10 and last night I ran two miles straight at 9:28. Not a huge amount of progress for almost three months and certainly not awesomely speedy, but it's the best I've ever done and I enjoy patting myself on the back and giving myself ice cream cones for my troubles. I got so excited about this, that I signed up for a 5K! It's in less than two weeks and I think I might be insane. We'll see.

Just about three weeks ago I started lifting weights. Thanks to this totally awesome site, I was able to wade through the testosterone-scented confusion surrounding weightlifting and devise a beginning plan to turn myself into an ass-kicking machine. After the initial mistake I made of doing three sets of squats and not being able to walk for a week (I actually called out of work because I couldn't climb out of bed), I think it's been going pretty well. Apparently the cure for squats is more squats.

In addition, I am trying to overcome my fear of the gym, particularly the scary scary weight room. I don't even know where it is in my gym, but if I can get used to the hamstery awfulness of the treadmill I can eventually ask a Friendly Staff Member where the weight room is and if it is scary. For now I will stick with the small & medium sized dumbbells and not mess with the big iron.

So, this is about where I am right now. I have no particular weight loss goals besides not wanting to weigh half as much as Shaq (several years ago Shaq anyway), and being continually able to fit into all the clothing I currently own.

And to drink more Guinness.