Together

While I was running the Emerald City 1/4 marathon on Saturday morning, I had the greatest idea for a blog post. It started out with a compelling sentence that would inevitably draw you, the reader, in for more. Unfortunately it seems that I forgot what I was going to say, but I didn't forget what this would be about, so bear with me.

First, the ever-important background information.  Back in May/June, we signed up for the Emerald City 1/4 marathon (6.55 miles) so that we'd have a reason/incentive to run this summer and keep up our cardio workouts. The training was going well until the 90+ degree heat hit in August. Each week, we said that we'd get back on the wagon, but didn't. At least, we both kept up regular appointments with our trainers, so all was not lost. However, neither one of us ran more than 3 miles in the weeks leading up to the run, so we knew that if we did it, it wouldn't be pretty.

Fast forward to race day. The night before, crazy thunderstorms and a crazy mutt interrupted our good night's sleep. When the alarm went off around 5:15am, we both groaned and then hoped for a torrential downpour that we could use as an excuse to skip the entire event. No such luck, so we put our gear on and trudged out the door. We arrived at the race, just as it began to rain. Both of us were cranky and now we were damp. As we waited under a tent, the race officials announced that the storm cell was passing around us and that the race would go on as scheduled. What surprised me was that instead of being bummed that the race wasn't cancelled, I was relieved.  

As Nick and I walked over and joined our pace groups, the rain actually stopped. Since I planned to finish in around 1:30, he planned to finish around 1:10, so we wouldn't be running the race together. I kissed him goodbye and said I'd see him at the finish, then went and joined the crowd.

The race began and my body felt good. I was jogging slow, trying to pace myself. As I continued, I noticed that my breathing was regular, and my legs felt strong. I kept my pace until around mile 2, when I began to run/walk. Around mile 4, I began to notice my lack of training. My legs felt heavy and my knee was feeling sore, but I continued walking a song, running a song...until I reached mile 6. At mile 6, I knew that it was time to finish. I turned up my power song and told myself that there would be no walking until I reached the end. I rounded the corner and started RUNNING. I saw Nick, cheering me on as I ran as hard as I could. 

When I looked up, I realized that I beat my goal by 2 minutes, finishing in UNDER 1:30. I was proud that I didn't give in, proud that I finished and proud that I even began in the first place. However, that wasn't the best part. The best part was that Nick and I had completed the race together. Although we didn't run side by side, we were together in our decision NOT to skip the race. We both tested the water, but held strong and kept going. The day before and the hours leading up to the start were tough, but once we arrived, we knew that there would be no looking back. Had I said the word, Nick would gladly have gone back to bed and skipped the whole thing. Had he said the word, given me permission, if you will, to skip the race, I would have done it in a heartbeat. But, neither of us did. We went through with it, suffered our punishment from lack of training and did it together. 

5 miles. Done and done.

Saturday's run was a long one, the longest that I've had to do in awhile.  As usual, I didn't WANT to do it, but I did, but I didn't, but I did (or else I wouldn't have signed up for the 1/4 marathon in the first place).  I carefully planned how the day would go, in the back of my mind, giving myself permission to skip it, but also threatening to kick my own ass if I did.  My relationship with myself is complicated.  In the end, I got it done and here's why:

1. I gave myself permission to walk.  Did I want to walk?  No.  But did I decide that it was ok if I did? Yes.  And I did end up walking on/off for the last 1 1/2 miles or so.  I'm happy to report that the side stitch stayed away and that I just started to tire out and dehydrate a bit.  All in all, I'm happy with how it went though.  I ran for almost 3 1/2 miles, not fast, but not walking.
2. My husband told me to enjoy it.  What a revelation.  This builds upon the whole idea of "this was my big idea" and takes it to another level.  Go out there and have fun.  That's what I did.  I enjoyed my neighborhood, the sunshine and the little boy who so graciously moved his tricycle off of the sidewalk for me to pass by.
3. I said that I was going to run.  I cancelled a pre-concert lunch date with friends so that I had time to get 5 miles in.  How dumb would I have felt if I would have gotten to the concert and said "I didn't do it" when asked how my five miles was?  Pretty dumb.  So instead of humiliation, I got a couple of high fives.
4. Sunday was a rest day.  All that was standing between me and more than 24 hours without thinking about running was 5 little miles.  Those five little miles would give my metabolism the boost that it needed to let me have fun at a tailgate, without completely throwing my progress down the drain.
5. 13.  Why is this important?  Its the number of miles that I was supposed to finish last week, and that 5 miles was the last chunk of mileage.  It also let me have my first continual highlighted line across my training plan, with no X's to mark out missed miles.

3 miles, heavy legs

On Tuesday, I completed three miles.  I didn't run the whole thing, but I didn't walk the whole thing either, so I'll consider it a win or a +, if you will.  Monday evening, I did two miles, followed by a complete ass kicking by my trainer, Rebecca.  The workout was so intense that about halfway through, I started to dread Tuesday, thinking that I probably wouldn't be able to sit down on the toilet without extreme pain.  When Tuesday morning rolled around, I was kind of proud of myself when I got out of bed, made my way to the bathroom and then sat down, without any grunting or pain.  The day continued and my legs continued to work...until I had to go run that night.  Once I started going, it felt like my legs were weighted down.  It just wasn't happening.  But, I went anyway and at the end, I had "wogged" three more miles.  While I was going, I was thinking about:

1. I hope that I don't get struck by lightening.  There were some pretty gnarly clouds rolling in and a few times, I saw sideways lightening.  I thought to myself - "seriously!? you're not this hard core" but then I told myself to "shut up and finish".
2. Even though you're not feeling "it" tonight, just get through it.  That's what I did.  It wasn't pretty, but it was done.  My heart rate was up and I was sweating, so even though I didn't satisfy my mind and do three miles without walking, I gave my body what it needed.
3. In the overall scheme of your day, this is a blip.  I had to tell myself multiple times that this "wog" only felt like it was going on FOREVER, when in fact it was less than 45 minutes of my day, a blip on the radar, if you will.

Moral of the story:  For me, any run is better than no run.  I'll get to where I want to go eventually - even if I have to walk part of the way.

2 Miles

Dear side stitch,

I'm dedicating this post to you, since you obviously are craving attention.  During last night's run, I was thinking about how good I was feeling despite the humidity and my lack of motivation.  I know that's a contradiction, but its my prerogative.  My breathing was steady, my music was motivating and traffic was cooperating.  I was cruising along at a less than 13'00" pace yet again.  However, you decided mess with my mind around mile 1.25 or so.   Instead of giving in to your cries for attention, I took deep breaths and willed you to go away.  I was glad that you took the hint because I was in no mood to run/walk last night, after your appearance on Friday evening.  Now that I've remembered how to make you go away, I want you to know that you are no longer welcome to join me on my runs.  I don't have time to entertain you and you really screw up my breathing.  So if you DO try to pop in on my three miles tonight, I'm going to take deep breaths until you get the hint and go back to wherever you came from.  

Peace out,

Me

4 miles. It wasn't pretty, but I got it done.

Friday after work, I headed out to do four miles.  Because of a trip to Pittsburgh, we decided to do the four instead of the scheduled 2.  Instead of doing the two, we opted for two much needed rest days.  While I was running, I was giving some thoughts to why I was doing this and how it was making me feel.  So here it goes:

1. I had to walk, and that was ok.  The day was warm and humid, and I knew that I was tired, but I headed out anyway to get this 4 miles crossed off of my list.  I started out and immediately noticed that my shoulders and biceps were tensed.  I tried to check myself and rotate my hands to loosen things up, but wasn't having any luck.  I'm pretty sure that this contributed to the dreaded side stitch, which almost always is my undoing.  I ran with it for awhile, telling it to go away, but it wouldn't listen, so I decided to walk for a bit, until it dissipated on its own.  At first, I felt guilty because I hadn't made it to 2 miles before I stopped to walk, but then I remembered my own post and decided that I was going to have fun, damn it, and running with a pain in my side wasn't fun.  I proceeded to "wog", which is a combination of run/walk, for the remainder of my miles.  To give myself some goals, I walked a song and ran a song.  My pace for the day, under at 14:00 minute mile overall, showed that when I was running, I was running faster than usual, which is a win for me.
2. I love sweat wicking fabric.  I admit it, I was skeptical about how much those $30 Nike shirts actually WICK when it comes to sweat, but after running in 80+ degree weather, I'm a skeptic no more.  The sweat started almost as soon as I got out of the car, and I never felt damp or sticky like I feel when I run with a t-shirt.
3. I remember when this used to be easer.  I admit it, for a few minutes (maybe more, I don't know), I allowed some self-pity to enter my mind.  I kicked myself for quitting after the last round of 1/2 marathon training and allowing myself to get back to square one.  Enough about that, moving on.
4. I never want to see my name next to a DNF, ever again.  I remembered that after the Cap City 1/2 last May, Nick and I registered for the Columbus 10k.  The thought process was that since we'd already been training for the 1/2, and finished 13.1 miles, we'd just take a week off from running and pick things back up again, keeping the momentum going for a SHORT 6.2 mile race.  What ended up happening was that we quit running altogether and began making excuses for why we weren't continuing with our training.  The result?  We got two technical t-shirts for a race that we didn't run and two DNF's next to our names in the official results.

Two miles, two MORE reasons

1. I ran because I wanted to break a bad habit.  Last night's plan was supposed to be:  leave work, quick trip to the store while Nick did his two miles, my two miles while dinner was cooking, dinner, TV and bed.  What ended up happening was that I got home late, around 7:30, which threw off the whole plan, which sometimes sends me into a downward spiral of excuses.  In my head, it was the perfect reason to postpone the inevitable until this morning.  Knowing myself as I do, I also knew that I wouldn't wake up to get the run done and would begin a 24 hour cycle of self-hatred, which was really completely unnecessary.  So instead of justifying, I got dressed and got it done.
2. I ran because I said that I was going to.  I keep my training schedule tacked up in my cube.  I highlight the dates and the miles as I go.  This serves as 9-5 "public record" of my progress.  My boss knows that I'm running and I mentioned to him last night that I had to run when I got home.  I would have felt like the world's biggest idiot had I come in today and not been able to highlight that two miles.  Putting an X through it would have meant that I was going to be two miles short this week and that the yellow highlighted line through my week would have been broken.  The fact that this is something that would bother me is proof that I'm getting back into the training groove.

Last night's stats

Distance:  2 miles

Avg. pace:  12'39"/mile

Total time:  25:24

Calories:  276

Two more miles, two more reasons

There were two more miles on last night's schedule and instead of focusing on why I didn't want to change into my running clothes and get out there (which can be attributed to laziness by the way), I once again tried to focus on two more reasons why I wanted to run.  Here they are.

1. I ran because I had no real reason not to.  Because, really, "I don't want to" isn't a good excuse when it comes to training.  Of course I want to, or I wouldn't have signed up to do the race in the first place.
2. I ran for how good it makes me feel...especially when I'm done.  During my run, I was fighting the urge to give in to a side stitch, but didn't, because I knew that I would hate myself if I succumbed to the urge to stop and walk.  When I finished, and I felt the sweat pouring down my face, arms and hands (yes, hands!), I knew I gave it everything I could for those two short miles.  There was no second guessing because there was no stopping.

These two miles were two more miles that I put between myself and my tendency to self sabotage and second guess.  For me, running is still as much a mental sport as it is a physical sport, but I think that this latest endeavor finally has me on the right track.

Stats:
Distance:  2 miles
Avg. Pace:  12'53"/mile
Total time:  25:48
Calories:  276

Two miles, two reasons

During last night's run, I tried to focus on the positive instead of psyching myself out. Since I was running two miles, I tried to think of two reasons why I was running that night.

1. I ran because so many people can't.  I am lucky enough to have no physical reason why I can't get out there and hit the trail.  I've silenced my excuses as best I can, so that the only barrier left for me is my mind.  I did my best to silence that with an eclectic mix of Fergie, The Offspring and Lady Gaga as my soundtrack last night.
2. I ran because I wanted to.  There was no one forcing me to get out there and do it.  Sure, I'll say that I don't want to do it and complain for most of the time, but at the end of the day, there wasnn't anyone holding a gun to my head, telling me to get it done.  I did it for me.  And also for the Nike+ voice that told me that I accomplished two miles and also ran my fastest mile since before 1/2 marathon training last year.  

I think that my Nike+ "voice" needs a name.  He is a male and sounds D. West from Maury Povich - the one who wore sweater vests without anything underneath and would come on the show and drag unruly teenagers off to boot camp.  What shall I call him?

Stats:
Distance:  2 miles
Avg. pace:  12'51"/mile
Time:  25:49
Calories:  278

A new relationship with running

If you were to compare my relationship with the sport of running to a relationship where I'm the girl and running is the boy, the story would go something like this:

1. Girl meets boy in a bar, when she wasn't really looking to meet that special someone
2. Girl falls madly in love with boy, then hates him, then loves him, then loves to hate him and then loves him again (even though she still kind of hates him)
3. Girl and boy hang out EVERY SINGLE DAY, listening to music and sweating profusely {{wink wink}}
4. Girl and boy take their relationship to the next level
5. Girl gets home from Vegas and stops returning the calls and texts from the boy
6. Boy keeps calling and texting, but girl refuses to budge
7. Girl feels guilty and calls the boy back after about 3 months
8. Repeat @2-6
9. Girl then half heartedly dates boy off and on for months
10. Girl feels guilty for her bad behavior
11. Girl gives boy another chance, but on the condition that they "take things slowly"

So here I am, starting at #11, trying to find my new relationship with running. Previously, as you can see by my crazy example, I was in somewhat of an abusive relationship with the sport, binging on half-marathon training and then quitting cold turkey, starting again and then quitting....again.

The reason I like running is that it provides THE best cardio workout for me.  Running brings my heart rate up higher than the elliptical and the bike (except for spinning class).  Running is the workout that challenges my mind and my body.  Running makes me sweat, which tells me that my body is working.  As part of this new relationship, I need to learn to accept and embrace that challenge rather than running away from it (pun intended) and self sabotaging.

In order to shift my thinking and to invite running to become a more permanent fixture in my life, I've decided to train for the Emerald City 1/4 marathon.  I've chosen to do a 1/4 marathon instead of a 1/2 because I need the accountability of a schedule and a checklist of miles.  I know myself and know that I can't be trusted to just open my arms and welcome the sport back to my life.  I need to take the journey of "I think I can" on my way to "I know I can" by doing the shorter weekday runs to let the process happen naturally.  My short term goal is to complete the 1/4 marathon without walking, but my ultimate goal is to develop a long-term relationship with this sport, a healthy one, the kind that I don't have to start over every three months.

Tonight...

• I went for a run, even though I had sliced my finger while trying to rescue my phone from the "Barbie" iPhone case (I ended up using two keys to pry the phone from its multi-colored protective case)
• I got home later than I wanted to and was searching for the perfect excuse to be lazy
• I was searching for any excuse NOT to exercise
• I could have walked
• I made a decision
• I went for a run
• My running partner had four legs and required several pit stops along the route
• My running partner was motivated by the phrase, "Let's go find some bunnies" (for the record, we didn't find any) instead of by music
• I was grateful because my almost five year old dog could run with me
• I didn't beat myself up because I had to walk for a little bit
• I remembered that I wasn't afraid or intimidated by this sport any longer
• I wasn't worried about my mileage or my pace
• I breathed in and out and my legs did the rest
• I ran because I wanted to, not because I was in training
• I took one step closer to legitimately calling myself a runner
• I ran and I liked it

We did it!

During the past 8 weeks, I've been training for my 2nd 1/2 marathon.  I completed my first 1/2 marathon in May, 5 minutes over my goal of under 3 hours.  If I knew that I had given it my all, I would have been satisfied, but I knew that I didn't.  I had all of the tools that I needed, except for proper planning.  In the middle of our training program, Nick and I took off for Europe for two weeks, returning exhausted and sick, resulting in three weeks of missed training.  Add to that the fact that we were half assing the training in the first place, led to a half assed 1/2 marathon.  I hit "the wall" very early on, opting to run/walk before finally giving in to the mental and physical pain.  Nick hit the wall around mile 10 or 11, having to walk as well.  We both finished, which I acknowlege is a huge accomplishment, but I knew that we didn't give it the respect and attention that it deserved.  Another unwelcome result of not being prepared?  Knee pain that lasted for weeks after the race.  After going to the doctor, we figured out that I did too much, too fast and too soon.  I wasn't surprised since our laziness and poor planning often resulted in missed mid-week runs.  We did the long runs, but going from zero to 9 in one week just isn't good for the body.  Translation:  Training programs ar there for a reason, so follow them!   

Since I was disappointed in my first 1/2 marathon finish, I decided that I wanted to do another one.  I knew that I could do better, but starting a new program after taking such a long time off, was like starting from square one, literally.  For me, running is a mental game that I can never seem to win.  I have trouble calming myself down.  The harder I try, the worse it gets.  Maybe like a mini-anxiety attack?  Once I start to breathe heavy, I panic a little bit.  Instead of focusing on the fact that its normal to be breathing heavy, I start to take shallow breaths, which makes the situation worse.  When I get the dreaded side stitch, it results in a similar panic.  My rational self knows that I need to take deep breaths and run through the pain.  My rational self also knows the difference between real pain and exertion.  My irrational self thinks that the pain will never go away and doesn't see a light at the end of the tunnel and tries to tell me that the only thing I can do is to walk.  My rational self  knows that I can do anything that I want and that I have the strength to get through a run and that running is mostly mind over matter.  The problem is that during my runs (and sometimes before them) my irrational and rational selves are battling it out in my brain, taking turns at claiming victory.

This time, I was determined to follow the plan.  The one I chose was from Fitness Magazine and was for "Newbie Racers" or those who currently run less than 15 miles per week.  Considering that when I started this, I was running zero miles per week, this was perfect.  Also perfect was my hubby, who decided to do this WITH me instead of just with me.  He walk/jogged and cheered me on, every step of the way.  I yelled, complained, whined, cried and told him to go away, but he stayed.  He kept telling me that he was waiting for me to have my breakthrough - what I like to call my Jillian Michaels moment.  The moment when I realize that I've had it in me all along and that all of the crying and whining was totally unnecessary.

I actually had that moment last Wednesday.  It wasn't how I pictured it would be.  Nick was out of town and I had been up since about 5:30am, traveled to Solon and back and then back to work, so it was the perfect storm of excuses.  I had my running bag packed and in the trunk, along with my other gear that I'd need to do 5 miles that evening.  Instead of heading home and then feeling guilty, I headed to the trail.  I put my headphones in and began the run, but my heart wasn't in it.  I was by myself and my legs were still sore from the long run the previous week.  The breakthrough came when I decided that I was going to get it done and I wasn't going to stop and I wasn't going to feel sorry for myself.  I told my legs to loosen up and concentrated on the music that I was listening to.  What happened to me there was the greatest moment of clarity that I have ever experienced.  The pain went away and my pace quickened.  The minute I decided to just run, that's what my body did.  It shut out my mind and did what I had been training it to do.  Before I knew it, I heard the magic words, "3 miles complete" and I knew that I was more than 1/2way through and I was actually enjoying myself.

All along, I've related my running adventure and journey to the lyrics to my power song, "Big Girls Don't Cry" by Fergie

"I hope you know, I hope you know

that this has nothing to do with you

It's personal, myself and I

we've got some straightening out to do

...its time to be a big girl now

And big girls don't cry...

That night, "myself and I" finally got ourselves straightened out.  I finally felt like a real runner and I knew that I would be able to run the whole 1/2 marathon.

The race on Sunday started out early.  We got downtown around 6:30am and took some time to relax before we headed to the starting line.  Because of my slower running time, we started in Corral 4, which is also where the walkers started.  Our start was  a little sporadic because we were dodging walkers and "woggers", but we found our rhythm at about mile 2 or 3.  Despite our best efforts, we remained surrounded by walkers, but as the run progressed, we found open pockets and settled into our pace.  Nick stayed true to his promise and stayed with me for the entire time.  I know that he could have run it faster and better, but he stayed with me, which pushed me to push myself through the pain and frustration.

I didn't meet my goal of running the 1/2 marathon in under 3 hours.  I came close, my official time was 3 hours and 44 seconds.  What I did accomplish was so much more.  I became a runner.  I trained for a race and followed through on the effort and time that I had put forth.  I pushed myself through pain and frustration and ran the whole race.  I even jogged through the Gatorade stations, grabbing a drink from the volunteers, but NEVER STOPPED.  I tried not to think.  I looked up and enjoyed the moment, the spectators and the bands.  I followed through and didn't self sabotage.  I let myself like running and I let myself have fun.  I'm no longer afraid of running.  I'm actually looking forward to the next race and maybe another 1/2 marathon.  Don't get me wrong, I'm still pissed about those 44 seconds, but the transformation that I've undergone in the past 8 weeks is more than I could have ever imagined.  I know that it wouldn't have happened without the love, support and patience of my husband and for that, I'm eternally grateful.  From the beginning, he knew that I could do this.  I just had to figure it out for myself.

We didn't have crowds of friends or family cheering us on throughout the course.  We didn't have anyone waiting for us at the finish line.  We had each other and we crossed the start and finish together.