Anatomy of a Winter Run

Since I went for a long run of 20 miles yesterday, I thought it might be beneficial to share my winter running "getting ready" protocol with all of you, because none of you asked and I have pictures.  So, without any futher ado, here are...

MY PREPARATIONS FOR A WINTER RUN:

1) Freak myself out about how cold it is going to be outside.
2) Wonder if I should do half of the long run outside and the other half on the treadmill.
3) Decide I am going to run tomorrow, not today.
4) Decide I am going to run today and not totally wimp out.
5) Fart around on the internet for an hour mapping several possible routes based on wind speed and direction.
6) Look outside and think about how cold it is.
7) Finally decide to get dressed.
8) Put on first layer of clothes:

Those are my FAVE purple calf sleeves.

9) Put on second layer of clothes:

10) Put on third layer of clothes:

11) Realize I forgot to put on my hydration backpack and go talk to the hubbs while I'm putting it between my second and third layers, telling him where I'm going.  Watch helplessly as he takes a picture of me adjusting my hose:

12) Take away the hubbs' privilege of sleeping with his phone by the bed.

13) Waffle for about an hour as to what route I want to run.  I usually end up basing my decision on the "least amount of loose dogs" rule.

14) Load up with hand warmers, pepper spray, mittens, 6 gels, my phone, and lip balm.  Bray like a pack mule before putting in headphones.

15) Leave for run.

Overall, it was a pretty good run yesterday.  However, in case you didn't already know, don't ever do a full body weight workout that includes squats and lunges with a loaded barbell the day before a long run.  Why? Because when you do your 20 mile long run the next day your legs will be tired by mile 5 and you'll have to slow down in order to make it to mile 20.

At least the weather was freaking gorgeous for those 20 miles.  I mean, you couldn't ask for better weather on a February day in Illinois:  it was in the upper 20s, no wind, and sunny without a cloud in the sky.  Nothing but blue skies did I see.

And, when I got home, I saw nothing but sunburn in the mirror from the nose downward.  Apparently I forgot that the sun will still give you sunburn in the winter when you're traipsing about outside for almost 4 hours with no sunscreen.  Because I was wearing sunglasses and my balaclava up over my chin, I have red marks that look like a painted on clown face.  It made work today that much more interesting, ("Hey, what happened?  Are you sunburned or did you tie one on before you came to work today?  Is that really "water" in your water bottle?")

Anyhoo.

Tomorrow's workout is 8 x 800m, and it looks like Mother Nature is going back to her cranky self again tomorrow: high winds and snow starting in the morning.  Treadmill Tuesday, here I come.

Mother Nature: Knock it off so I can run outside.

This week has been another week stuck on the treadmill because Mother nature feels like she has something to prove by either making it:

1) Too cold to run safely outside unless frostbite is the new black
2) Snow like a *BLEEP* with high winds and white-out conditions.

Maybe she's trying to make up for the fact that I ran 4.5 miles in this outfit on December 2nd:

My house is under perpetual construction.  It's my cross to bear.

At least I can wear similar outfits when I run on the treadmill.

Wednesday was an easy run day (6 miles), and I feel like those are getting easier to do mentally.  Six slow miles doesn't seem so torturous anymore, especially not with good treadmill TV on in front of me.  The tempo run I did today wasn't any easier on the old mental state than last week; however, I tried something a little different with that 8 mile tempo, 6 of which are supposed to be actually run at tempo pace:

I split it into two 3 milers with a 400m walk in between each 3 mile segment.

Part of me feels like I totally wimped out, and the other part of me feels super-duper smart by figuring out a way to survive this workout on the treadmill.  I had to split this into two smaller, achievable runs, because when I got up I had absolutely NO INTEREST WHATSOEVER in running this run on the treadmill.  I wanted to run outside so I could run faster than I do on the treadmill.  By my outside was full of white stuff and 20 mph winds, so, like Mother Nature, I only had two choices:

1. Skip the workout entirely and be a total and complete *BLEEP*
2. Make the workout work for me.

Obviously, option #2 won out, which I consider a smallish victory.  However, I still need to kick up the speed (which I did compared to last week) on these runs when I do them on the treadmill.  I take a small measure of comfort in the fact that it looks like I didn't stop at all when you look at my Garmin graphs:

And I only ended up doing 7.5 miles because I had to get to work and my dogs were circling the treadmill in a rather menacing fashion, waiting for me to get off it (they have an intense desire to lick my sweat, which is intensely gross.  But they're dogs.  They lick a lot grosser things).  

Looks like I'm going to have to work on not taking that break in the middle as well as kicking up the speed.  That is, if Mother Nature doesn't decide to back off on this whole "Oh gee it's, like, winter or something" thing and I'm forced into another week of treadmill running.  

Tomorrow the treadmill isn't an option--it's outside for a slow 20 miler.  I'll let you know if Mother nature behaves or not.

A Trying Treadmill Tuesday

Have you ever gotten out of bed at 4 AM, sighed heavily at the fact that the cold winter winds were literally rattling the windows of your 1930's farmhouse, and then bemoaned the fact that your house has no insulation so your house is almost as cold as the outside, thereby totally demotivating you to strip down into shorts and a t-shirt and scamper downstairs to do your treadmill speed workout?

You have?  Well, that was me this morning.  I'm glad I'm not the only one.

The speed workout sat there all innocent-like on my training schedule, saying I needed to run a 1200m at my 10K pace and then a 400m at my 5K pace, and then repeat that 2 more times.  My brain, however, was not acting so innocently; it was screaming "nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" and covering its ears  to block it all out and make it go away.  The big baby.

I managed to work through the internal brain screaming and, after a quick breakfast, managed to get into my running shorts and a t-shirt in my house that was probably 50 degrees or so by that point.  This is when my dogs feel the need to bug me to go out, because they enjoy torturing me by making me stand by the front storm door wearing next to nothing.  The gleams in their little doggie eyeballs give it away that they are enjoying the fact that I'm freezing my ass off while they are forced to use the bathroom outside in the cold.  I try to explain to them that this is one of life's little injustices, but they just stare back at me, biding their time so they can poop in my shoe or tear up a valuable document I leave lying around.

I then made my way to the treadmill, whereby I realized that I forgot to put on my Garmin.  So, I trucked back upstairs to get it.  When I picked it up, I realized I left it on all night, and the battery was almost gone. (Does anyone else accidentally leave it on when you transfer your data?  I do.  I'm a moron.)  So, I quickly slapped it on the funky charging clip and then went back downstairs to get all my other treadmill equipment ready:

• A small bottle of gatorade
• A bottle of water
• A bondi band from one of my Ragnars
• A small hand towel for sweat and other bodily fluids that come from a face
• My foot pod for ye olde Garmin 
• The TV (getting it on and on a proper show that is good treadmill TV)

I went and got my Garmin (which had pretty speedily charged itself halfway by that time) and started up the treadmill, which is near a window that might as well have been open because so much wind was getting through it.  And I really really REALLY didn't want to do this workout.  It's not that I didn't want to run.

I just didn't want to do this workout.

If you regularly read what spills froth from my brain, you'll know I have this thing about running more than an 800m on the treadmill.  That thing is this:  I don't think I can do it.  Either I run too fast and have to take a break, or I just don't push myself enough to finish it once the pain starts setting in.

Bottom line, I have failed at these before, and I was afraid of failing again.

But then I told myself that I wouldn't accept that kind of stinkin' thinkin' out of my students, so I couldn't accept it out of myself.  I decided to do a mile warm-up and see how I felt.

Amazing how one mile can motivate you.

I ended up doing all of the repeats, and I made it all the way through the 1200s without stopping to rest.  However, there was a lot of mental abuse afoot whilst I was on that treadmill.  By the end of each one (and especially the last one), I was literally repeating over and over again in my head that suffering is optional suffering IS OPTIONAL YOU MORON JUST KEEP GOING YOU'RE ALMOST THERE.

Yeah.  Well, at least I didn't promise myself a new house this time.  I think I'll just save that one for long runs.  But I have to remember all of this pain and suffering is so I can fill the gaping chasm that exists in my PR list:

I wonder what it will be.  Until then, guess I'll have to keep talking myself into and beating myself up during workouts to find out.

Reading is bad for you. Well, for me, at least.

My training schedule calls for 2 days of cross-training every week--on Sunday and Monday.  Technically the plan gives me the option of running easy on Sundays, but I haven't taken advantage of it.

Until today.

I know what you're thinking: "Hey, idiot, today is MONDAY.  Get a calendar and use it."

I am aware that it is Monday.  I am also aware of the fact that sometimes I read things about running that are meant for people who warm up at my half marathon pace (8:30) and then try them out and/or add them into my current training.  And then I get injured.

So what did I read this time?  I read about this thing called "embedded circuit training."  From what I read, you are supposed to run about 2 miles on one of your easy days, then do a circuit of strength exercises with 30 seconds of aerobic activity in-between.  Then you are to run 2 more miles.

This is supposed to give you some serious PR-age and make you faster.  So I thought to myself, "Hey--I can run those two miles on either end of this on my treadmill, then do one of my circuit DVDs.  Do that once a week on Monday, and then I'll be SUPERFAST; I'll break the freaking laws of physics."

Yeah.  Well.

I did run those 2 miles first on the treadmill (by the way, "Monsters Inside Me" is great treadmill TV).  My legs were tired.  I mean, TIRED.  You'd think I ran 18 miles two days ago or something.  Anyway, since these 2 miles were supposed to be run slowly, I didn't even go above the 4.5 mph mark.  After the first 3/4 of a mile, my legs were feeling pretty good.  My left IT band was whining a little and my left hamstring was "ahem-ing" me every now and then, but I felt all good and warmed up for my circuits.

I did some total body circuits, seeming to forget that yesterday I did Cathe's Supercuts workout again (it is becoming a regular Sunday workout; DEEE-licious!), which involves a lot of squatting and other leg maneuvers.  During the lower-body portion of the DVD today, I could feel that I may have slightly overdone it.  Just to not push it any more than I already had, I nixed the idea of running another two miles afterwards, and just went shopping instead to walk off whatever damage I may have done.

Unfortunately, I'm really feeling that run now.  My mistake, in hindsight that is painfully 20/20, was that I need to give my legs a freaking day off during these two cross-training days.  I keep forgetting that I am a rank amateur at this whole "running a marathon" thing, and I need to take it easy for my first one so I can run a second.  And maybe even a third.  Thus, I am hoping to get to bed early so sleep can restore my legs for my speed session on the treadmill tomorrow.  (I wanted to run it outside, but Mother Nature has foiled me again with her making-rain-turn-into-snow trick.)

There were, however, two bright notes this weekend:

#1. I bought my first tube of Body Glide.  After my last 18-miler, unmentionables were chafing that made doing other unmentionable things very painful.  I am disturbed that it says "Do not use on deep puncture wounds, animal bites, serious burns."

Mainly I am disturbed because those warnings are usually there because some idiot like me actually tried to do these things.


#2. I cranked out 15 bicep curls on each arm using my 20-pound dumbbell.  Before this time, I was cranking them out with my 15s; for some reason today I decided to throw caution (and quite possibly my left shoulder joint) to the wind and try them with some 20s.  When I was done I grunted in a distinctly man-like fashion.  I felt like this lady looks:

 photo credit: meehanf via photopin cc

I would have pitied the fool that messed with me while I was out shopping this evening.  But no one did.  Unfortunately.  Hopefully I can channel my bicep curl triumph tomorrow morning when hitting the treadmill for some 1200m repeats.

Using a hydration backpack is better than eating snow.

Yesterday I woke up at 6 AM, fully intending to eat breakfast and then scoot on out the door on my 18-mile long run.  Instead, I spent the next few hours waffling with myself, debating about whether to do the run that day or wait until the next day (today).  I have a shin splint in the making on my right leg, and my left hip has been wobbly during the last week, so I was thinking that they may need a day.  Also, here in northern Illinois-land, we have been plunged into a deep freeze with temperatures in the teens most of the day; I hemmed and hawed about waiting until the next day to do the run because it was supposed to be warmer that day.

I finally convinced myself to suck it up and do the run yesterday, trying out a new out-and-back route in order to provide the motivation to take the time to get all of my winter running gear on and get out the door. (I like running in new places, because there are sights to see that I never even knew existed right in my own backyard--for example, a zoo and a firearms shop.)  But I put on a piece of gear that I hadn't worn before: my hydration backpack.

Backback plus bonus dog.

You see, I'm really really tired of carrying water around in my hand or on a belt, especially in this cold weather.  There's that whole "water freezes below 32 degrees" thing to contend with, so you actually end up carrying around a bottle of ice after an hour, or I have to deal with a hydration belt that eventually rides its way upwards during a run, becoming a bra by the end.  The thing is, though, when you're running for 3 or 4 hours, you get thirsty--really thirsty.  So, instead of eating snow for the last 6 miles and spitting out the road sand that comes with it as I have done before, the  logical solution for me was to shell out some serious cash for the backpack you see above.

Inside the backpack is a bladder that hold about 1.5 liters of water.  Connected to that is a tube that comes outside and down the right arm of the backpack, which ends in a bite nozzle that you bite down on (duh) to get the water to come out.  Since I wear about three layers in the cold weather, I put the backpack in-between my 2nd and third layer so as to prevent it from freezing; I also threaded the tube with the bite nozzle through the right arm of my jacket (between my 2nd and 3rd layer) so that wouldn't freeze either.

It worked like a charm.  Here's what I liked:

• 1.5 liters was more than enough water for a 3+ hour run
• The bite nozzle worked well; I felt like I could get enough water, especially after sucking down a gel.
• The straps that come around the front didn't bother me at all. (Although they did make wear marks on one of my favorite running shirts I was wearing for my 2nd layer.  Bummer.)
• I looked like a total hunchback running down the road with it underneath my jacket, drawing confused looks from passing motorists
• It didn't bounce at all--I didn't even notice it after the first mile.
• It has lots of pockets to carry your stuff.  While that didn't help me yesterday (it being underneath a jacket) these will definitely come in handy when it gets warmer.

I only had two main issues with it:

• The constant sloshy-sloshy sound of the water in the bladder was my constant companion.  However, I run with music, so I only heard it between songs.  (I found out later if I drained the air out of the top of the bladder before running I wouldn't hear it sloshing.)
• I was stupid enough to leave the bite nozzle sticking out of the top of my sleeve during the first two miles of the run.  Having tried out the bite nozzle in my house before I left, there was water sitting in the tip of the nozzle, which promptly froze as it hung outside of my jacket for those two miles.  Thankfully, I just had to press on it to break it up, and it was all good.

Overall, it was a good run yesterday, even if the first 9 miles were right into the cold and windy suck that is Illinois in February and I had to shout "NO-GO HOME!" to way too many dogs.

This was a pace run, meaning I had to negative-split the run so I was ending at my race pace.  I think I did a pretty good job, considering that I had decided I would run each mile my body wanted to run it and not get so focused on the numbers.  Compared to my last 18-mile run, I did come in a bit faster with my average pace, although not much--I started slower this time than last time, but last time I never got into the 10:00 paces whatsoever. 

However, I am going to need to watch it during my marathon--I tend to start speeding up around mile 7 or 8, I've noticed, and then I have to throttle back in later miles in order to make it to the end.  If that happens during the full 26.2, I think I may be in trouble; I am currently planning on holding back a little until the 13th mile, and then assessing the situation from there.  I just don't want to have to do a lot of the pathetic self-bargaining that I had to do yesterday just to make it through the 17th mile.  (I promised myself a new house.)

Anyway, it's cross-training for the next two days for me, which will give my shins a needed break.  Let the Cathextravaganza continue.  

Trying to uncrank myself.

A lot of work craziness, a lot of crankiness, and a lot of running have been the rule for the last half of this week.

This was me this week.  Hell, this has been me since September.

The running, however, helped deal with most of the crankiness, so there was a net craziness gain of zero this week.  I like it when it all balances out, don't you?

Wednesday was an easy run on the treadmill, and when I say easy, I mean easy.  Easy like a Sunday morning easy.  However, I still like to start slow and kick it up a little towards the end, just to get used to running faster at the end of my runs.

It's the "tempo run" I did on Thursday that I am the most disappointed with this week.  While it was 8 miles of much needed stress relief (meaning 8 miles of not thinking about work and focusing on the run), it was a tempo run that I once again ran too slowly because of my fear of doing these types of runs on the treadmill.  And now for the splits:

Yeah, it pretty much bit the big one.  A 9:30 pace thereabouts; pretty sad, considering I usually like to run these at my 10K pace when I'm outside, which is anywhere between 8:15 and 8:30.  But the treadmill has mentally shackled me for some reason.  A 9:30 was all I could handle before my brain started to panic, telling me I would never, ever make it all the way to 6 miles oh God that's so long to run fast on the treadmill I'll never ever make it.

The treadmill and I have to come to an understanding, it seems.  I have to stop thinking "I can't" while I'm on there and just remember that pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional.  I'm there to run, so I need to get it done.

And my brain just needs to shut the hell up while I'm on the treadmill.  Maybe I'll just turn up the TV to drown myself out.

On a brighter note, I got to use my barbell for an entire workout this morning.  Continuing my Cathextravaganza, I did her Power Hour workout, which is a high-rep weight training workout that will give you a little workout with your barbell.  I like this workout because:

a) I get to use a barbell in almost every exercise
b) Cathe tells you what weight she has on her barbell every single time
c) It makes my biceps beg for mercy
d) Mmmmm deadlifts and dead rows (I love back work)
e) The late '90s set cracks my shit up
f) I get to use a barbell in almost every exercise

I thought it was a little light on the tricep work at the end, but maybe because in every other workout I own by Cathe it seems like she works the triceps until you can feel them trying to flee from your body.  Although I can tell you that I scared the crap out of my husband when he came down the stairs this morning and saw me doing tricep extensions while laying down on my step--the hubbs thought I was going to drop the thing on my forehead and tried to "save" me by grabbing the bar.  I can tell you that's not a safe thing to do when your wife has been cranked up on crankiness all week and just wants to do some tricep extensions with 35 pounds on her barbell without being bothered.

Speaking of bothered, tomorrow I see I have an 18-mile pace run on the training schedule, where I have to negative split my run and end up at my marathon goal pace.  It is also slated to be 12 degrees with 12 mph winds at the time I want to go out and do this run.  Looks like tomorrow I'll be blogging about that run while wiping the icicles from my eyelashes.

I can't wait until spring gets here.

Cranky guy photo credit: massdistraction via photopin cc

Outside, I Miss Running In You.

Got up today fully expecting to do my ladder workout on the treadmill, especially since the winds were so strong they were rattling all of the old windows in my house.  It is treadmill Tuesday, after all, people!  Let's get that treadmill a-rollin'!  All aboard the Treadmill Tuesday Train!

I did get on the train, but had to get off at a very early stop, unfortunately.  After about 0.75 miles I realized I was not going to have time to run a 400, 800, 1200, 1600, and then work my way back down that ladder and be able to get to work on time.  Damn myself for getting up too late.

I'm a bit of a perfectionist about my speed work days; I just like to do an entire speed work workout rather than cut it short. And this is a workout I've never actually done before.  It was a challenge to be conquered, and I wanted to conquer the entire thing at once.  So I decided to come home after work and run it on the treadmill when I would have the luxury of time.

And then I checked the weather forecast for this afternoon just as I was about to leave my place of employment.  I about jumped out of my pants (don't worry; no one was around to see it) when I saw that the temperature would be hovering deliciously near the 30s and there would be basically no wind.

"I CAN RUN OUTSIDE!!" I exclaimed in my classroom to absolutely no one, much like a teacher who desperately needs a break.  Or years of therapy.

And run outside I did.  This is what the sun was doing when I pulled into my driveway:

I knew I'd have to strap on the headlamp and get all gussied up in my reflective gear since the sun was sinking fast, but I didn't care.  I knew I would only have to wear two-ONLY TWO-layers of clothing.  I was all aglow with running excitement.

Still glowing, I trucked outside and ran that ladder.  It only took an hour, and I managed to piss off every damn dog along the way, leaving a wave barking in my wake that sounded much like off-kilter barking metronomes as I ran away from them as quickly as I could.  I don't think they were barking at me; I think they were barking at the headlamp.  ("Hey--what is that glowing thing bobbing up and down out there?  And where is that heavy breathing coming from?  We should bark like crazy at it.")

But enduring the barking and having my pepper spray at the ready several times was worth it.  The weather was perfect.  I was running at speeds that I would break down in a mental pile of goo about if I were doing them on the treadmill.  In the dark you can only see the moving circle of your headlamp (and the errant zombie lying in the cornfield.  I'm sure one of those shadows in the cornfield is a zombie), and you don't see the hills or the scenery or anything else--you can just focus on the run.

I conquered the workout.  I just hope the weather holds for Thursday so I can conquer that 8.5 mile tempo run on the training schedule this week (unlike last week).

My main running goal? No crippling injuries.

Yesterday and today consisted of my typical cross-training festival of Friedrich (Cathe, that is).  On Saturday I did Supercuts again, and, as always, it was DEEEE-licious.  My glutes will surely be firing correctly after doing that one for a month or two, and my entire core always feels worked after that one.  Decided I would tack on the Core #2 workout afterwards because I hadn't ever done it before.  Let's just say it is tougher than the Core #1 workout but doable; however, one should be wary of any workout that features a move called "corkscrew crunches."

Today was upper-body only, and I did Cathe's Upper Body Pyramid simply because I didn't do it last week.  I could really feel it getting after my back and pecs; dumbbells were strewn about everywhere this morning.  It was a beautiful way to start the day.

I know you'd love to hear all of the nitty-gritty details of this weekend's weight-lifting and cross-training Cathextravaganza, but I feel the need to address something a person said to me about my long run on Saturday.  That something was this:

"10 minutes per mile?  That's not very fast.  Can't you run faster than that?"

Yes.  Yes I can.  But there was a time when that was a blazing speed for me.

Not many of you know the story behind my first 5K, ran on June 19th, 2010.  I had lost a lot of weight by 2010, and had been working out faithfully since 2005 doing everything BUT running.  However, I had not quit smoking yet--I was smoking almost 2 packs a day by the middle of 2010.  Yes, 40 ciggies a day for me.  And all while working out for an hour every morning.  Everyone always acts so incredulous when they see someone smoking after working out at the gym; I think I'm one of the few people who understand why they do it.

It really is an addiction, smoking.  You have weird addict thoughts, and the ciggies take over.  They lie to you.  They whisper that you need them, that you can't live without them.  They make you panic when you realize you're out of cigarettes, and you will risk speeding tickets and will leave your house looking like a rug they uncover at the bottom of a pile of stuff on a "Hoarders" episode just to go get a pack.  One time my ciggies told me that I should keep smoking because, after all, what else would I do when I took the dogs outside?!?  Just STAND THERE, for Christ's sake?

Yep.  Addict thinking.

So after watching my mother-in-law die of cancer and realizing I didn't want to die that way, I decided to quit.  It wasn't easy, but I made a plan based on the mathematical concept of EVEN NUMBERS.  Every time I went outside to get my nicotine groove on, you see, I always smoked two ciggies.  Therefore, to start down my path to nicotine-freeness, I should cut that number in half for a week.  Therefore, I would reduce my overall nicotine consumption by half, and then cut that number in half the next week, and so on and so forth until I wasn't smoking any at all.  Easy, I thought.  Nothin' to it.

Except that first week almost killed me--killed me with a crushing sense of fatigue the likes of which I have never experienced since.  I hadn't realized how much the cigs had sped up my metabolism, and I was experiencing a huge crash just by smoking HALF as much.  After that went away, I did pretty well for a few weeks until I got down to 5 a day...and then I sat at 5 a day for a few weeks.

My life, unfortunately, began to revolve around those 5 cigarettes.  I could think of nothing all day but when I could suck down one of those precious nicotine nuggets.  I thought about them constantly.  I daydreamed about them.

It was so damn pathetic.

In the middle of my pathetic 5-a-day parade, I realized that I had to go get a haircut.  As I sat in the comfy chairs waiting for my best stylist ever named Courtney to finish with a customer, I saw a poster hanging on the front door of the salon that read:

"Brett's Run--5K Race."

I didn't even know how long a 5K was (I had to go home and look it up).  But I did know that my husband used to run cross country in high school, so if he could do it, how hard could this running thing be?  I had an entire two weeks before the race to get my training in, after all.

Well, after one day of "training," (which consisted of me thinking I could run 3 miles but almost puking after 2) I knew I couldn't be doing this smoking thing anymore.  Not only did I look absolutely ridiculous having a smoke after running around the neighborhood, but I realized that to be a good runner, smoking was a definite no-no.  A no-no-no-no-NO.

So I finally set a quit date.  June 15th, 2010.  I smoked the last of my 5 ciggies, wrote a good-bye letter to my ciggies, and gave the rest of the pack to my husband for him to dispose of at his discretion (I found out later he took them to a dumpster after he poured water all over them).  The three next days between quitting and the race weren't that bad (most of my withdrawal came within my first week).  On race day, I woke up all nervous and jittery; even my husband got infinitely tired of me asking, "So do I warm up NOW?  How fast should I go?  Should I take walk breaks? Am I heel striking?  Do I warm up now?" that he rolled his eyes at me.

The best thing was that I didn't think about ciggies at all that morning.  Just racing.  I ran just to run, just because I could, just to have fun.  And I came in at a 10:00 minute/mile pace, good enough for 10th in my age group.  My first 5K.  I was so proud of myself, especially of the fact that I hadn't walked once (although I thought about it quite often).  I caught the running bug right then and there in the parking lot afterwards, plotting how I could get better, do better on my next run.

My 5K pace is now much faster (between 7:40 and 8:00).  But I think wanting to run my first full 26.2 at my former 5K pace is a pretty reasonable goal.  And a pretty damn good one.  You see, everyone has a different fast, slow, good, and bad.  We're all at different levels on this journey called running.

And sometimes the goal of running isn't to run as fast as you can; it's just to see if you can go the distance without suffering horrific crippling injuries.  (Well, in my case it is, anyway.)

I'm ready for it not to be winter anymore.

Seriously, I'm really ready, especially after a long run.  Yesterday was a long run day, and it was what my training schedule calls a "pace" run.  It is described in my training plan thusly:

"Start 45 seconds slower than goal race pace and gradually speed up to end at goal pace."

That didn't exactly happen on my run.  These plans are written pretty generally, and usually my goal on the long run is just to survive all the way until the end.  Also, they don't take into account things like bitterly cold weather (which wasn't the case yesterday, thankfully) and high winds (15 mph, which was the case yesterday) as I was running straight into them.  Plus, I was tired from doing my tempo run the day before instead of Thursday.

So I started slower than the plan said I should, but I don't really care about that--especially since the first 7 miles were run straight into those damn winds.  What I do care about is that I ended at goal pace, which is 10:00.  The thought of maintaining that pace for 26.2 miles is a little daunting right now, but I have to keep reminding my shortsighted and idiotic self that I just ended my 5th week of training, with 11 more weeks to go.

Without any further ado, here are the lessons learned from this run:

• Where you put your phone matters.  This was a run where I almost threw my phone out into the ditch rather than have to put up with it for one more minute.  On the way out to the south, you see, I had tucked it into a front pocket of my jacket.  With the wind coming right at me, I didn't feel it very much unless my right hand happened to have the Gatorade bottle at that point (see below for more on the Gatorade) and smacked into it on the way down because I was too tired to maintain proper form.  However, after I turned around at the 7 mile point, it was slamming into the front of my body--specifically, it kept slamming into my bladder body part.  Because I was wearing three layers, I stopped and put it in a back pocket of my second layer, where it then slammed into my ass over and over again.  After contemplating calling my husband to come and get the damn thing (he's the one who makes me carry it, dammit), I finally remembered that one of the pairs of tights I was wearing had a butt pocket.  Ahhh, phone bliss was achieved after I transferred it there (and forcing it into the pocket, making it fit).  
• Gatorade just makes me thirsty.  Instead of gels, I decided to carry a bottle of Gatorade with me this time (since I have read that gels and sports drinks don't mix; I really don't want to perform a running experiment to see if that's true).  I also had a bottle of water in my dorky Batman-esque utility belt wrapped around my waist, which I was glad I had by the end of the run.  I was glad I did, because that Gatorade only made me thirstier and thirstier--the only reason I kept drinking it was because of the sugars and electrolytes I knew I was losing just by running.  In the last mile I grabbed the water bottle and guzzled it down in one long thirst-quenching drink.  Next time I will be carrying a mix of the stuff with water.
• Mile-long downhills are wonderful.  Route 72 is a main road near me, and I have realized that it is sitting in the lowest point of a valley.  So, when I ran down to it (literally), I was running some pretty steep uphills when I traveled further south past 72.  Those hills were a challenge, but one that I knew was necessary.  The best part, however, was turning around and having a mile-long downhill during mile 9.  My legs felt great, and it gave me much-needed training on running downhills.  The only thing that sucked was realizing that I would have to run a gradual uphill to the north of 72 back to my house.  I enjoyed that downhill while it lasted.
• Yes, I can do more than I think I can.  My quads were pretty damn tired by mile 10.  I didn't want to run uphill.  I didn't want to run faster.  But that's why I'm glad I don't have my watch programmed to show me my instantaneous pace during long runs--it just lets me focus on the run, and fall into a good pace without getting all mentally strung out by the numbers.
• My nose is capable of snot production of epic proportions.  Snot rockets were plentiful and frequent, with the snot flowing freely and copiously.  And I'm talking with hagfish-like proportions:

That's slime he's holding.  Made by the hagfish in the tank.  YUM.

Needless to say, chapstick is now a "must have" item on my long runs because my nose gets raw wiping away all my snot-rocketing adventures.

• My Achilles issues and shin splint "hot spot" seem to have quieted themselves.  I think this is nuts, especially since I am running more miles per week than I ever have been.  I'm thinking I finally found the right combination of shoes, stretching, and recovery days to make them shut-up.  While I have no scientific evidence to back this up, I'm thinking that the long runs in my Mizuno Wave Rider 16s are helping a lot--they are the nicest-feeling shoes I have ever had the privilege in which to run.  Also, I wear calf sleeves by Pro Compression or SLS3 on every run now.  
• Port-a-johns on a long run are bliss.  I know you think I'm overreacting, but it was SO NICE to be able to use the facilities somewhere where it was actually legal to do so.  And to be able to do it out of the wind, with real toilet paper, taking off my gloves without fear of frostbite and being able to readjust all layers properly before taking off again.  It's the small things, really.

A bright spot on a long cold run.

Compared to my 20-miler last weekend, this run was pretty short (even though it had its share of annoyances to make it seem a little too long).  Now for two days of cross-training, and then it's back to running three days in a row next week.  My goals for next week's training are:

1) Don't be a total wimp on the treadmill

2) Complete a treadmill tempo run actually at lactate threshold

3) Stop myself from letting loose snot rockets while running on my treadmill

4) Get ready for next weekend's 18-mile long run--which is a "pace" run.

Hagfish photo credit: dirtsailor2003 via photopin cc

Coaxing my inner child out of her fetal position for a treadmill tempo run.

If you live in the Midwest or the Northeast right now, your outside looks a lot like this:

Which is why I didn't do my 8.5 mile tempo run like I was scheduled to do on Thursday.  The picture above was taken right as it started to snow like a *BLEEPNAUGHTYWORD* and I was on my way home from work.  This occurred after it poured down rain for most of the morning, which is why I didn't do the run in the AM like I normally would have done.

Weather.  Sometimes it sucks.

When I got home, it was snowing softly, and there was no wind to speak of.  It was warm.  So, I did what any other reasonable runner would have done: Busted out my new set of Yak Trax Pro and tried to get that tempo run done any way I could.

Only I underestimated how wet, sloppy, and calf-fatiguing running in that kind of snow could be.  I found myself picking my way over patches of ice, my Yak Trax digging into the wet heavy snow such that it was like running in the heaviest, wettest sand you could imagine.  I couldn't get up to the speed I would need to really make the run effective.  Well,  I could get up to speed, but it would most likely be when I was sliding on my ass after I fell on the ice rather than by running down the road.

If it had been a long run day or an easy run day, I would have kept going, because the snow was so pretty and the evening so quiet and warm.  But it wasn't.  It was tempo run day, dammit, and Mother Nature had once again outwitted me.  That *BLEEPANOTHERNAUGHTYWORD*

So I called it quits and decided to treadmill it this morning, even though it meant doing 6 miles at tempo pace.  Six miles.  Siiiixxxxxxx looooonnnggg miles.  That number freaked me out (even after running 20 miles Saturday!  I am nuts.)  You, see I hate doing long tempo runs on the treadmill more than I hate root canals, meetings with people who lie to me on a regular basis, and going shopping at Walmart on a Saturday afternoon.  In fact, "hate" isn't the word I should use; it's "loathe."  I don't know what it is, but I mentally shrivel at the thought of doing a faster run that's longer than 3 miles on the thing.  I break down, thinking I can't do it. My inner child goes all fetal and rocking, inconsolable.

But this morning I reminded myself that if I think I can't, I can't.  But I could.  I was going to try, but I would have to make some modifications in order to convince my inner whiner that I could do it.  So I did for myself what I would do for any of my students caught in this mental trap--I started small.  Specifically, I ramped down the speed that I woulds run at because I needed a speed that I could be successful at during this first try at an 8 mile tempo on the treadmill.  I just needed to show myself that I could run that long at a faster pace on the treadmill, and I'll jack up the speed later if Mother Nature decides to be a total jerkface again.

I'd say I did a pretty good job this morning, even if I did have to stop after 5 miles because I needed to get my ass to work on time:

I threw in the elevation just for fun.  How did I lose elevation on the treadmill?  My Garmin footpod is possessed.

Not my fastest pace ever, but I did feel challenged.  I broke it up into smaller bits ("Just make it to mile three make it to mile three MAKE IT TO MILE 3 YOU *BLEEPOHANOTHERNAUGHTYWORD*!") which made it much more manageable.  The TV helped, too; "My Name is Earl" is also surprisingly good treadmill TV, along with a documentary about the USS Indianapolis tragedy.

The lesson from today's run?  Sometimes runs aren't about physical training--they're about proving to yourself you can do something, even if that something is not mentally crumbling while running slower than normal on a machine others handle just fine. Now that I know I *can* do a longer tempo run on the 'mill, next time I'll ramp up the speed and coax my inner child out of her fetal position for the entire run.

Damn you, kinetic theory.

Today's workout: 6 slow slow miles on the treadmill.

Well, technically, I ran slower at first, and then less and less slow over those 6 miles.  I like to practice my negative splits, you see.  Even at low speeds.  Must be safer that way.

I have no idea what happened at the start.  My Garmin keeps autopausing while I'm still in motion.

After those 800s and this slow slow run, I wore my support pantyhose to work today.  Just in case you didn't know, "support" means "you must put them on as if they were sausage casing because they are really low-grade compression garments sold as beauty aids."  I don't know if they work, but my legs feel pretty good right now.

This morning, however, was a different story.  My legs were still pretty tired from the 800s I did the night before when I got home from work.  In fact, I didn't want to run on the treadmill at all this morning.  It was nice enough outside that I could have run on the streets, except for that whole "the roads are all covered in slippery ice and snow" thing.  So the treadmill I hopped upon, looking forward to the fact that I could run my 8.5 mile tempo outside the next morning, because it was supposed to get warm enough to melt all that nasty ice and snow off the roads.

Except for the fact we are forecast to get a freezing rain/sleet mix starting at 1 AM.  Damn you, kinetic theory.

Guess I better go in search of all my mental toughness again for that tempo run.  I better go after the bits under the couch and behind the toilet just to make sure I am prepared.

The treadmill heals all.

So I have this meeting in the morning.

I don't want to go.  In fact, I'd rather give myself a lobotomy so I can sit there drooling through it; that way I would have an excuse not to say anything.  Then they could whisper about me behind my back such things like, "Oooh, there goes lobotomy girl" and "Who does she think she is--someone who's had a lobotomy?" and I wouldn't even care.

Needless to say, I came home rather worked up about this meeting.  Like all homicidal-like worked up, contemplating quitting my job and curling up into a ball on my office floor for about the next 10 years or so.  But then I remembered I hadn't finished my workout from this morning (8 x 800m), so the treadmill beckoned.

I didn't get up in enough time this AM to finish the workout, so I decided to split it in two, doing 4 of those 800s in the morning and 4 when I got home from work.  After some messing around with my Garmin watch, I finally got started, trucking away through some episodes of Dr. G: Medical Examiner. (Oh what was it that killed them, Dr. G?  I can hardly stand the suspense!  For the record, Animaniacs is MUCH better treadmill TV.)  Run fast run fast run fast my lungs will explode run fast almost done run fast then ahhhhh walking the recovery mmmmmmmm.

Here's what my dogs were doing while I was sweating to Dr. G:

"Do you mind?  All of your treadmill noisiness is interrupting my beauty sleep."

After about 40 minutes of treadmillin' it, my brain had been righted again.  Or at least was only set slightly askew instead of dangerously dangling on the edge of a homicidal precipice.  Thanks, endorphins!

The treadmill, I found, heals all.

Instead of shooting nasty glares and snidely raising my eyebrow through my entire meeting tomorrow, I decided in the soft afterglow of my treadmill session that I shall joke my way through it, lest my blood pressure reach dangerous levels again.

However, they may think I've had a lobotomy anyway, considering the quality of my science teacher jokes.

My shins are whining, my quads are jerks, and my glutes are lazy.

Boy, am I glad my training schedule allows for 2 days of recovery after a long run.  My shins and feet are still feeling those 20 miles I did on Saturday, and I have a bit of a whiny painful "hot spot" on my left shin that I am getting a little concerned about.  Time to massage and ice like crazy.  My quads, however, have been surprisingly quiet since that run.  They're either getting stronger, or they are plotting a quiet mutiny at a later date, probably during the height of my training.  Those jerks.

Anyway, I woke up yesterday with my back hurting the most from my run (I have a weirdo body), so I opted out of any weight lifting yesterday and, for once, decided to be gentle on my body by just doing a 45-minute walk on the treadmill.  Yes, you read that correctly--I typed "walk."  I found that the Hub channel was showing a marathon of Animaniacs cartoons, so I threw those up on the TV in front of my treadmill while doing said walking.  I felt fine during the walk, but dear lord did I feel it about 2 hours later.  Good thing I also decided plyometrics were probably not a great idea the day after a 20-miler, either.

Sometimes I do think smart things, but not often.  Yesterday was one of my smarter days.

Today I felt tons better, so I decided to do a total body routine by Cathe I haven't done in a while called Total Body Tri-sets from her Low-Impact Series.  (I always like to do one total-body workout per week, mainly because of my glutes.  They need abuse.  I still think they're not "firing" correctly, those lazies.)  It has a separate workout for the upper and the lower body regions, and I like the fact that she incorporates the core into this workout so you don't have to slog through a separate ab routine at the end.  Like I've mentioned before, there are a gajillion premixes available on her newer DVDs, so I chose the total body express premix because I felt that only one time through each tri-set (set of three exercises; she makes you do each tri-set twice in each workout) was enough.

Consider my glutes properly abused.  That may be a short premix (48 minutes), but it sure is effective.  Let's just say I'm glad I opted for flats today when I presented about some tech stuff I use in my classroom to some middle school teachers, or I would have given them an impromptu and unplanned lesson in how gravity always wins from atop my high heels.

I would have liked to run today, since it was 33 degrees on the way home (a veritable heat wave this time of year in Illinois) and no wind was feel-able as I got into the car after my presentation.  It was also sunny, which really was a slap in the face from the running gods:

But, alas, it was not in the training schedule.  However, it is tomorrow--Treadmill Tuesday will strike again, with some 800s at 10K pace.  Stay tuned.

Now I can do anything.

Twenty miles.  20.  A two and a zero right next to each other.

This was my first 20 mile run, running out in the country that day after it snowed 2 inches the night before.  I was running where the plows don't go; where they throw down sand out of pity instead of wasting road salt on us country bumpkins.  I was suffering by the end, and not just from fatigue.  It was cold, windy, and snowing for the first two hours.  Thankfully, that cleared up by the second half of the run, and this was the view from mile 15 (the mile in which I really really really wanted to call someone to come get me):

But my first thought when I finally reached my front door was this:

"If I just did that, I can do anything."

Although I did have a hard time getting up and down my stairs afterwards.  So I guess I could do almost anything.

Here are the lessons learned from my first 20-miler ever in the universe:

• My hydration strategy still needs some work.  Having learned from my last long run, I brought along a 20-oz plastic water bottle and carried it along for about 5 miles.  I then dropped it at an intersection way out in the country, expecting to grab it on my way back when I was dying of thirst.  That plan would have worked if it hadn't been for those damn snow plows--they finally decided to come out at about noon, plowing down my water bottle into the ditch of oblivion.  Or at least somewhere where I couldn't find it, because that water bottle was MIA on my way back.  This sucked, because I was dying of thirst by that time.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I was forced to eat snow on the way back to quench my thirst.  The trick is, I found, going far enough into the ditch to avoid getting any of that pity sand stuck in-between your teeth.  
• Did you know that water freezes when it is below 32 degrees F outside?  You did?  Well, apparently this science teacher forgot that fact because the extra water bottle I had on my belt (and the water bottle that disappeared due to plowing) started freezing after the third mile.  This resulted in much swearing, gnashing of teeth, and stopping to bang the lid of the water bottle on the ground just to break the ice around it that was keeping it shut, preventing those luscious water molecules from getting to my parched lips.  This (among other things) resulted in my being pretty damn cranky by the middle of the run, so cranky I was yelling at passing motorists for daring to drive on the road and making me run on the shoulder.  Because one day one of these motorists might hear me and stop and beat my ass, I went out and bought this hydration pack last night, thinking that if I put this underneath one of the four layers I was wearing, the water in it wouldn't freeze:

I bought the pack, not the dog.  Well, I bought the dog, but not last night.

• While they don't freeze, exactly, gels are much harder to eat when you are running in the cold.  Their viscosity increases severely, resulting in me trying to breathe while running and performing a weird sucking motion in order to get the damn gel out of the package.  It was almost like trying to suck a  foot out of a wet sock (I have never tried this, and neither should you. Weirdos).  I did bring something solid to eat that pretty much saved my life in mile 12.  By that point I was so hungry, and this Honey Stinger Strawberry Waffle saved the day, and kept hunger at bay until the 16th mile or so.  
• My right hand must have some lingering vascularization issues from when I used to smoke 2 packs a day, because the fingers on that hand kept getting really *bleep*ing cold.  I had to take them out of the fingers of the glove and ball them into a fist in the sleeve of the glove, which means that the top of the mitten was flopping around while I ran, getting really freaking cold.  I don't know why I wait so long to break out the handwarmers, but I finally did in the 11th mile, sticking one in this little pocket my Hotfingers gloves have on the top of the mitten.  Let me tell you, this worked like a charm--my fingers were all toasty warm after that.  
• My students live along the roads on which I run.  I stopped and had a nice conversation with one of them who was taking out his dog for about 5 minutes until he finally realized who the hell I was (I don't usually go to school dressed in a balaclava, neon-yellow hat, and white running tights.  But maybe one day I should).
• Running through 2 inches of snow is akin to running through sand--it sucks.  I have also learned I hate the feeling of snow getting stuck to the bottom of my shoes; it feels like I'm wearing huge platform heels after a while.
• When you pull your balaclava up over your nose, the condensation from your breath forms little icicles on your eyelashes.  
• Speaking of balaclavas, I learned this law of the running universe:  30 seconds after pulling your balaclava up over your nose, you will have to let loose a few snot rockets and pull it back down.  
• You get all sorts of crazy looks when you're running while it's snowing.  Passing motorists all had incredulous/shocked looks on their faces when they saw this crazy runner slogging away through horizontal snow.  Well, it was either because of the snow, or they were just shocked at my usual bad running fashion.
• I finally figured out the magic number of layers to put over my legs so my thighs don't freeze.  That number is four.  Which, by the way, makes for quite the adventure when you stop to use nature's facilities and try to pull all of them back up and put them back in their proper positions.
• This run wasn't just physical training--it was mental training. I really wanted to give up right after hitting mile 15.  I was cold.  I was tired of the wind.  I was tired, period.  I would have cried, but I didn't want any more icicles on my eyelashes.  But then I started repeating a little mantra over and over in my head: "You got this.  You can do this.  You got this.  Just a little farther.  Keep moving or you'll freeze to death, you moron."  (My inner monologue is often abusive.)  I kept on going.  I started having to tell myself how much time I had left to keep on keeping on ("1 mile left!  That's, like, only 11 minutes!  You can do it!  Don't stop or you'll freeze to death, moron!")  But I guess that's the point of these runs--to find the tricks that keep you going mentally as well as physically, keeping the rational part of your brain under wraps so it doesn't realize the crazy thing you're doing.

Even though this run was dripping with annoyances, I am still excited I finally did a run of this distance.  Even though it wasn't fast, I still have 3 more 20 milers on the training schedule.  I may suck now, but I am confident I will suck less and less on those runs.  Except if my gels keep freezing.

Weight Training and Gratuitous Dog Pictures

It is Friday, people, and we all know what that means. Well, we know what it means if you're me and you're up at 4 A.M.--it's time for weight training, baby. I broke out the barbell this morning for a quick 30 minute upper-body workout via Cathe's Muscle Endurance workout.

One of the things that I do love about Cathe's workouts is the presence of premixes. This was one of her earlier workouts, but it had four decent premixes--and upper body split, a lower body split, a leg presses-only split (that must be for pure masochists), and one other one I can't remember right now. Her more recent ones have approximately three gajillion premixes per DVD, so there really are no excuses--you can always find a workout that suits your time needs and/or intensity needs (the woman has premixes where you do the workout twice, for crying out loud).

Now, I've done her Muscle Endurance workout before, but today parts of it seemed a tad more challenging than normal. Specifically, the bicep curls with a barbell seemed particularly undoable this morning. I don't know if it's because my body is tired from running 3 days in a row (something it has never done before) or if I'm just getting wimpy in my old age. But did them I did, and followed them up with some clean and presses and all sorts of shoulder, back, and triceps goodness. Topped that off with some abs, and it was a productive 30 minutes this morning. It was the perfect workout really: enough to let you know you worked out, but not too much that it is going to exhaust me for my workout tomorrow.

Speaking of that workout, I am scheduled to run a 20 miler in the morning. I can't think of anything better to do when my Achilles has been feeling fan-freaking-tastic this week (maybe because of all my treadmill running? My new purple calf sleeves? That voodoo that you do?) than go run 20 miles. It will be cold and probably snowing, but it's a run that needs to get done. At least I'll have the comfort of knowing that my puppies will be at home, safe and warm:

Yeah. I'll bring home some snow to throw on 'em just to shake them up.