I wore compression sleeves to work today.

Workouts: 

Monday: Total body workout that was entirely too glutetastic the day before speed work.
Tuesday: Speed work - 3 x [1 x 1200, 1 x 400]

I really did wear compression sleeves to work today.  Under my dress pants.  Check the sexiness out rightcheer:

That's because I did some intense (for me) speed work this morning.  The workout itself wasn't long (3 x [1 x 1200, 1 x 400]), but I accidentally ratcheted up the pace for those repeats.  Instead of running them at 8:15 (for the 1200s) and 8:00 (for the 400s), I stayed down in the 7:50s and 7:10s for the most part.  I write that almost casually, as me running those speeds isn't a big deal.

But it's a HUGE FREAKING DEAL.  Why?  Because a) I ran them too fast and last time I kept running my intervals too fast I got this thing called an "injury" and b) I have never ever run 400s under 7:30 (that I can remember) so even though I am frightened to death of injuries I am also over-freaking-joyed.  That is, if I don't injure myself.  Which is why I am wearing my calf sleeves to work all day to get the goodness that is recovery from compressing your muscles all day.

I am also wearing them because I have been using my new Mizuno Wave Sayonaras which, if you didn't know, are a much more minimalist shoe than my typical Mizuno Wave Riders.  To me, the Sayonaras have just enough cushioning without all the bulk or heaviness.  The toe box is also really wide, which allows your toes to splay outward, supposedly giving you a much more realistic stride.

They are the lightest and most minimal shoes in which I have ever run, and I can tell that I am running differently in them due to the band of soreness that runs medially up both shins.  They don't feel like full-on shin splints--it's a deep muscle pain that hurts the most when I squat.  But, after I squat, the muscles seem to get stretched out and the pain disappears.  And that's exactly what I did during my recoveries this morning-squatted and stretched out those muscles, and I am not feeling any pain whatsoever right now.  I just wanted to wear the calf sleeves as an extra-added insurance policy, as it were, against that pain.

But the pain doesn't make me love my Sayonaras any less than I already do.

In fact, I'm considering these as a potential marathon shoe for my October marathon.  I know I can't train in them all the time (especially with that "pain" thing), but I want to wear them for some type of speed work at least once a week.  That is, if the pain goes away and doesn't get worse.  If not, I guess I'll just have to wear my compression sleeves to work a tad more often, eh?

I am one needy runner.

Workout: 15 mile bike ride for long run recovery in this gorgeous weather we've been having here in almost Wisconsin.

On Friday night, the hubbs noticed that the weird running things I do no longer phase him.  Ice baths, toilet paper in plastic bags lying on the kitchen counter, endlessly reminding me to put away my pepper spray...it's all become a part of the rhythm of our marriage.  Whether or not this warrants counseling remains to be seen.  However, it got me thinking about all my running "essentials," as it were, so I thought I would be kind enough to list them out for you out of the goodness of my heart and as a direct result of the fact that I have a slight fetish for bulleted lists.

Here are my running essentials:

• Good running clothes.  This is an area on which I splurge, because you can never pay too much for something that doesn't make you chafe like a you-know-whatofanitch.  I am drawn to Nike running gear as far as capris and running shorts go.  For tops, I like Under Armour or whatever race shirt I can find that's a tech tee.  When running long runs in the winter or fall, I favor Nike jackets or my orange and black Boston Marathon jacket I found at TJ Maxx of all places (I know I didn't run it--but it inspires me).  When I am in the mood for a skirt, Sparkle Skirts is my go-to place for cuteness, along with Runningskirts.com.
• A good hat or visor.  Again, I usually go with Nike for this, but I do have an Adidas hat of which I am very fond.  For visors, I have a few Nike ones, but my favorite is a Headsweats visor that I got at Rogue Running in Cedar Park, Texas.
• Great running tunes.  I have an iPod Shuffle that my husband bought for me 3 Christmases ago that refuses to die.  I love the thing--it's small and can be clipped anywhere.
• Good running headphones.  I prefer the over-the-ear kind, because then I know they won't get ripped out of my ears.  I am currently using the over-the-ear type made by Yurbuds; they have good sound quality and don't move once you put them in your ears.
• Pepper spray.  You never know when some crazy dog wants to chase you down for an afternoon snack.  Or when some weirdo tries to shove you into the trunk of his car.  I know it can be used against you as well, but I would rather have it than not have it, you know?
• My phone.  When I do short repeats near my house I don't carry it, but if I am doing any sort of longer out and back, then it goes with me in a Marika pouch that I found at TJ Maxx (love that store) for 8 bucks.  I love it because it doesn't ride up and try to transform into a strapless bra after a while.
• Compression sleeves or socks.  I know some people don't think they work, but for the shin-splint prone such as myself, I feel they are beneficial.  I love the socks from Pro Compression the best-lots of funky colors, and they even make low-rise socks as well.
• A good pair of running shoes.  This one is kind of "duh," but it has to be said.  When I first started running I trained in cross-trainers which, if you don't know, is a huge no-no.  I have tried out a lot of shoes, and these days I am happy with the Brooks Glycerin 11s and the Sayonara.  But I also like the Nike LunarGlides and the Mizuno Wave Rider 16s.
• My Camelbak for long runs.  I have the Camelbak Marathoner Vest, and I will not go on any long run without it.  It holds 2 liters of water and has two huge seemingly bottomless pockets in the front for things like gels, phone, pepper spray, toilet paper in plastic bags, small children, etc.  This allows me to run without having to carry anything in my hands, which is HUGE for me.
• My Road ID.  If I get hit by a car and die in a ditch, I need someone to be able to identify my body and call my husband.
• Toilet paper in a sandwich bag.  For those moments you find yourself sprinting into a cornfield during a long run, it's nice to have at least one of the comforts of home with you.  Why in a sandwich bag?  So your sweat doesn't cause it to disintegrate before you need it.
• My Garmin 910XT.  How can I go on a run without my little running boss-on-a-wrist?  It tells me when to eat, when to rest, when to speed up, and when to slow down.  I love the damn thing.  Plus, it records all my workouts and I can compare them via Garmin Connect when I need to see if I am progressing or not.
• Sunscreen.  Yes, even in the winter.  I will burn no matter what time of year it is.

Looking back over this list, it seems I have a lot of essentials.  I guess I'm a needy little runner.  And, since I need all this crap, no wonder it takes me forever to get ready for a run.

Oh joyous happy 18 miles of running goodness.

Workout: 18 mile long run - negative split that sucker to be at pace by the end.

My last post was pretty depressing.  I was pissed off about a work situation, and that affected my run.  Oh, and that dead kitten didn't help, either.

But now I am convinced that the shortened run I did on Thursday was for a reason--so I could kick ass on today's long run.  I think as far as running goes I'm a little bipolar.  But we'll all just have to find a coping strategy that doesn't involve a prescription to deal with that, won't we?

Anyhoo, I got up today and checked the weather forecast, and my eyes almost bugged out.  Sixty degrees for a high?  At the end of July?  In Chicagoland?  Did the North American continent move rapidly and suddenly away from the equator while I had slept?

Barring any super-speedy continental drifting, it was the best weather I could have asked for to run 18 miles today. So you would think that I would have jumped right out the door and got on that 18 mile run, eh?

Nope.  I sat around all morning bawling my eyes out watching puppy rescue stories on YouTube like this one:

After that, I checked all of my social media three times, farted around on Yahoo, checked my Feedly, ate lunch, and THEN went running.  I headed up to the Long Prairie Trail again because I did not feel like being chased by dogs or being given weird looks by cows.  The last time I was there was in the winter, when brown was the dominant landscape theme.  Not today, though-there was a distinct greenness to it all today that made it much more inviting:

No snow!

The restroom was much cleaner as well.  There was real toilet paper inside and everything!

After I took care of my nitrogenous waste business, I was off.  And boy, was I.  I started this 18 miler faster than I ever had--with an 11 minute mile as a little warm up.  I'll let you take a gander at what happened after that:

Look at that weather!  GORGEOUS.  At 1 PM in July, peeps!

I have never ever run 18 miles with that average pace before.  Ever.  For comparison purposes, here is the run I did today compared to my first ever 18 mile run (done in January, by the way):

Click to embiggen

Again, it's about growth, people.  You have to know where you've been to see how far you've come.

But it's also about balance.  I really really want to hit my goal time in my next marathon.  But I also really really don't want to get injured.  But you don't make gains by continuing to do what you normally do, so I have been ratcheting up the difficulty of the long runs just a tad. I'm pushing myself, but trying not to push too hard that I go down for weeks trying to heal and injury I inflicted stupidly on myself.  

I'm not going to lie--the last three miles were mentally grueling.  I had to pull out every trick in the book to get myself not to slow down.  But there were two thoughts that kept me going:

1) You are stronger than you think you are.  You can do this.

2) 4:10, baby.  4:10.

That last thought is my ideal goal time.  It's just a number, I know, but it really gives me the mental oomph I need to keep on keepin' on.  I may not even hit that time.  But as long as that's the carrot at the end of the stick that makes me put one foot in front of the other, it's fine by me.

Overall, it was a very successful run.  The weather was fab, no dogs chased me, bicyclists on the path gave me about an inch of space when they passed me from behind, and Poplar Grove was the only town that smelled like garbage this time.  Next week I have 20 miles to do, and this trail may entice me back with all of its little charms.

Stop with the dead kittens, Universe. Please.

Workouts:

Wednesday: 20 mile bike ride
Thursday: Tempo Run.  Sort of.
Friday: 45 minutes of upper body weights and 10 minutes of core work.

Take a look at that bike ride.  That's the longest bike ride I have ever taken.  Let me tell you, 20 miles on the bike is absolutely nothing like 20 miles on the run.  Twenty miles on the bike feels like this:

After a 20 mile run I feel like this:

But I am currently experiencing a dilemma with this "biking on Wednesdays" thing.  You see, my training schedule says that I should be running 6 easy miles on that day.  However, sometimes my shins and ankles are so shot from the speed work I do on Tuesdays that the bike turns into a much-needed low-impact recovery run substitute.  I just worry that I won't be running the right weekly mileage to prepare me to run the 26.2.  I know it's about quality over quantity, but...I'm torn.  I think I may leave the biking to the weekend and put that 6 miler back in.  I am open to any thoughts or advice you may have on the whole "bike or easy run" dilemma.

Now let's shift gears for a second (BAD CYCLING PUN TOTALLY INTENDED).  Let's talk about running angry.

I woke up yesterday to find a particularly irritating email in my inbox.  It was the kind of irritation that grows inside you the more you think about it until it consumes all of your thoughts and blossoms into a full-on anger that you just can't shake off for a few days.  Or years.  Anyway, an hour after reading that email I was firmly and completely pissed off.  I was planning on doing my scheduled tempo run in the evening, but decided to go for a short 2 mile run just to shake the angries out before I went to work and glared at people all day.  So I pulled on a cute running skirt and my favorite running visor and scooted out the door and down the driveway.

What do I find at the end of the drive way?  A dead kitten.  Dead.  Kitten.  A little grey and white cute little furry ball of death was lying on my property, flies buzzing busily about its little dead pink nose.

Yeah.  I took that as a sign things weren't going to go well that day. The universe needs some lessons in tactfully breaking it to you that you are going to have a shitter of a day, methinks.  A simple post-it note on my car would have sufficed.  "Dear Terie: Today your day will suck total arse.  Prepare to be dominated and owned regularly and consistently.  FYI-The Universe."

So, after a day of slow-boiling rage wherein I managed to cover said anger with a thin veneer of professionalism and one-word phrases, I came home and got dressed to do my tempo run.  Now, if you are one of the very very few people who read this blog, you know how much I despise my traditional 8 mile tempos.  While I was looking forward to running, I wasn't looking forward to this particular run.

But I sucked it up and went outside and got it started.  And all I could think about was the work situation that made me angry in the first place.  My focus was destroyed, the run felt way harder than usual, my legs felt wooden, and, to add insult to injury, my large intestine had decided NOT to cooperate with me.

I quit after 3 miles.  I was angry and full of intestinal gas that was slowly ripening into a situation beyond my control.  I walked home so I could use a bathroom inside for a change.

I think I was the most upset about the fact that I let my mental state destroy a perfectly good workout.  The more I run, the more I realize your brain needs to be trained much, much more than your body.


photo credit: EYECCD via photopin cc
photo credit: jczart via photopin cc

Have loincloth, will travel. Or run.

Workout: Track Ladder (0.25, 0.50, 0.75, 1 mile, and back down that ladder).  Mostly at 10K pace.

"Honey, you look like you're going off to play tennis somewhere."

That's what the hubbs said to me before I went off on my run this morning.  I was wearing my new Nike running skirt and a Nike Pro Combat tank top.

The skirt seemed a little short. The spandex shorts underneath seemed even shorter.  The skirt had flaps on either side, making it more like a loincloth rather than a running skirt.  It really revealed my awesome running tan lines, too:

Those shorts were about the length of that skirt.  Only those shorts won't fly up while I'm running.

I felt rather uncomfortable being in the shortness and flimsiness that was this running skirt.  I began to doubt its "running skirt" function, thinking maybe it had been misplaced in the "running" section of the store from which I had purchased it.  Maybe it was a tennis skirt that had lascivious desires to be a running skirt and was just hanging out in the running stuff on the day that I found it, sitting there all on sale and my favorite color blue and stuff.

And then I had no more time for doubts, because I had to get my butt outside and go for a run.

My ladder workout was tough-tougher than I thought it would be.  The mile at the top of the ladder almost got me, but I pushed on and finished the workout.  My inner mantra, in fact, became "YOU WILL FINISH THIS WORKOUT."  Sometimes I listen to myself, and I did this morning.  I finished the workout.

But whenever I was running into the wind, I am afraid I gave the neighbors a little bit of a free show that they can never, ever unsee, no matter how hard they scrub those eyeballs.  The skirt kept riding up right along with the spandex underneath, and it felt like I was running naked from the waist down.  That wasn't exactly unpleasant, I must confess, but what was unpleasant was realizing that it looked like I was running around in tight blue underwear because the skirt had flown up and blended in with my shirt.  

The whole loincloth-esque feeling of this skirt is a deal breaker for me, along with the spandex shorts riding up to regions of my body none of us (including me) want to think about.  It also doesn't help that there is only one tiny pocket at the waist for your stuff.  I need more pockets, dammit.  Nike, weren't you listening when I wrote this post?!?  They need to design a cargo running skirt with all sorts of pockets just for me.

I think the biggest deal breaker for the neighbors is my awesome tan lines.  Along with the impression of me running in that skirt this morning that is seared into their retinas forever.

Just a boring little post today.

Workout:

45 minutes of weight work (total body) - Cathe's Total Body Trisets total body express workout
35 minutes of cycling (9 miles)

I have discovered that if I actually get to working out at 5 A.M. and stop farting around until 5:30, I can actually do two workouts in the morning rather than hurry through one lest I be late to work.  Time management is a wonderful thing.

My weight work today was deceptively easy.  I have done this workout a bazillion times before (approximately), and it never fails to turn my glutes into lumps of skeletal muscle soreness by the end of the day.  I usually don't notice the lumps of soreness that have developed on my ass until I try to get out of a chair some time in the afternoon.  Today I didn't notice the lumps until the car ride home, so maybe I'm getting better at this workout.

Being away from home this weekend, I found that I missed my bike.  Yesterday's elliptical session at the hotel just didn't give me my "I must be outside and see the sun rise and avoid critters attacking me" fix that the bike gives me.  I knew that I wouldn't be able to cycle very far today, but it was just what I needed to lift my spirits.  In fact, even some lady giving me the finger after almost backing into me couldn't dampen my joy at being outside on the bike.  Not even the huge mutant raccoon that sprinted out in the middle of the road on my way back to the house this morning that did not move an inch from its spot in the middle of the road as I sped by could dampen my mood.

And you know what made me even happier at the end of the day?  The fact that I get to do speed work tomorrow.  Sick, I know.

It's a ladder workout, and, after I put it into Garmin Connect, it looks a little something like this:

Click to embiggen the pink and purpley goodness!

My Garmin gets to boss me around tomorrow.  Super cool.  But ever superer cooler is the fact that I get to run them in my new bright yellow pair of Saucony Shadow Genesis(es?).

I'll be all aglow running my little ladder workout, prancing away in the darkness of 5 A.M.  That is, if I don't fart around until 5:30.

Running keeps my road rage at bay.

Workouts:

Saturday - 14 mile pace run
Sunday - 45 minutes on a hotel elliptical when what I really wanted was to get on the exercise bike but didn't see one until after I was on the elliptical for 20 minutes.  Oh well.


Have I mentioned that I absolutely positively with a hatred that cannot be described in any known words hate driving to Chicago?  No?  Well I hate driving to Chicago.  Like, REALLY hate it.  Why?  Because of this:

I should have just run to Chicago.  It would've been faster.

I also hate it because of that whole "parking" thing and that whole "tons of other people swarming around you at all times" thing and the "cops being extremely rude" thing.  But I had to suck all of my hatred up and hide it away somewhere, because I had to drive downtown yesterday for a presentation I gave at a conference today at the Marriott on the Magnificent Mile.

Look at that traffic.  And that was only about 20 minutes from my house.  I had a lot of hatred to suck up, let me tell you.

I think I would have lost it completely, however, if I hadn't run that morning.  I got up bright and early to do a 14 mile run that was on the training schedule.  This was a pace run, which meant I was to start slowly but then gradually speed up so that I was at goal pace by the end.  Some people know this as a progression run.  I know this as my "holy sh*t I don't know if I can do this" run.

The run started out pretty typical, if a little slower than normal (almost a 12 minute mile).  It was probably that tempo run the day before that was making my legs a wee bit tired.  Also typical was the fact that I had to pee by mile 3.  What was not typical was that I met another runner along my route, which takes me through country roads with very few houses and lots of farm animals and corn.

She was coming towards me on the other side of the road.  I waved as I passed her, but she didn't really acknowledge me.  I soldiered on, but realized I now had to do more than pee.  So I took a quick glance behind me to make sure she was far enough down the road not to notice me scampering off into the corn to add fertilizer to the field.

When I was done, I burst forth from the corn--only to find that she was coming BACK down the road and saw me emerge from the fields and stumble into the ditch.  Great.  Hoping she didn't live at the nearby house and was going to head in to call the police, I took off down the road away from her at a faster pace than I normally reach during mile 4.

Once I saw my mile 4 average pace, I challenged myself to stay in the 10's until the turn-around after mile 7. Then I made a new goal-keep it in the 9s for as long as I could on my way back.  As you can see, I met both goals.  I have never before in a training run slammed out so many miles so close to my goal pace (a 9:30).  You know what the one thought was that kept me going?

"You've run half-marathons faster than this-13.1 miles at an 8:35 pace.  You can kick it into the 9s for a while."

By mile 12 I was suffering.  But I kept hanging on, and my legs didn't slow down, even though my brain wanted nothing but.  I pushed through those last miles, something that I haven't done before on a training run,  But I think it's necessary in order to mentally train for the hurting that now I know will happen by the halfway point in my next marathon--train for the hurt, but also train how to get beyond it as well.

It was just the training I needed to deal with that damn traffic on I-90 later that morning.

Three Cycling Learnings

I went for a bike ride this morning.  I judiciously planned my route, wanting to ride somewhere new and get a decent amount of miles in.  I settled for a 17 mile route that went mainly to the south, which is not somewhere I usually ride.

I got chased by 3 dogs.  Three.  One more than two, one less than four. Three canines that burst out of their yard and onto the street and after me.  One of them even got ahold of one of my bike shoes (the huge English Mastiff) and another chased me for at least a quarter of a mile down the road (a black lab).

This is pretty much what I saw.  Only this is someone else's picture.

I am tired of being chased by dogs.  TIRED.  So tired that when the English mastiff was chasing me and trying to knock me off my bike that I started swearing loudly at the owners of the dog as I cranked up my speed going up a steep hill, of course. I'm assuming the owners were asleep in their house and not watching their dog because, after all, in the country you can LET YOUR DOG ROAM FREE EVEN THOUGH THERE ARE LEASH LAWS.

*Ahem*  Anyway, people-let's keep our dogs in our yards, shall we?  I don't like to do this, being a dog owner myself, but I think I may have to bust out my phone next time (after I have made my escape) and call animal control.  I am so over getting the poop scared out of me as a dog suddenly tears out of its yard at me in order to have a little cyclist for a snack.

So, Cycling Learning #1: New routes sometimes contain lots of new dogs with bad owners.

The other thing I learned on this morning's ride had to deal with planning your route.  Most of the time I traipse on over to MapMyRun and find a route that meets my specifications.  Most of the time those specifications are:

• Distance
• Elevation
• Not having to turn around on my bike at any point in time

I'm not too steady on the turn-arounds on my new road bike, you see.  Those skinny little tires always make me feel as if I am about to reach my lowest potential energy at ground level very quickly.  Because of this, I try to do a loop or lollipop-shaped course if possible.  Wanting to go somewhere new, I was excited to find this route to the south of me:

This looks fantastic on MapMyRun.  But what it doesn't tell me is that part of the route is on gravel.  Newly-laid gravel.  Gravel so new and mixed with sand that your skinny little bike tire just sinks in it.  

Yeah.  What's sad is that I knew part of that route was gravel.  But I hadn't driven down those roads in so long my brain hid that information from me on purpose.  Stupid brain.

Cycling Learning #2: Don't take a road bike on gravel.  Take a gravel bike on gravel. If they even make a gravel bike.

Other than learning a lot (just a part of my growth theme this week), it was a nice ride.  I took it slowly so as to recover from my 800 meter repeat workout yesterday (I totally felt that today, thankyouverymuch), so I guess the gravel slowing me down helped me in that respect.  However, when it is obnoxiously hot and humid like it has been lately, I learned this final lesson on today's bike ride:

Cycling Lesson #3: Sweat dripping down your safety glasses (which I always wear on the bike because I happen to love my eyeballs) makes it pretty much impossible to see anything.

Let me tell you, lack of vision spices up the ol' morning bike ride.  Even more than trying to flee from someone's unsupervised dog.

photo credit: domnit via photopin cc

I beat the workout. And I was really sweaty.

If you are one of the 5 or so people that regularly read this blog, you are well aware that I have mental issues.  I also have mental issues with running, especially running on the treadmill.  I did a lot of half-baked winter runs on my 'mill, wimping out or shortening my speed workouts because I just couldn't take moving but staying still, giving in to that little voice that says "YOU WILL NOT MAKE IT GIVE UP NOW.  DWEEB."

That voice is much quieter now that I can run outside.  It doesn't go away, however, and the memories of some of my abandoned workouts still haunt me.

Take, for example, any workout involving 800 meter repeats.

The distance is not the problem.  What the distance seems like on the treadmill is.  And because the time it takes to make two evil glowing loops on my treadmill seems to be measured in eons and epochs rather than seconds and minutes, I have come to dread any workout that involves multiple 800 meter repeats.  I can mentally manage to pull off a 6 x 800 m workout, but the 8 x 800...that workout has always eluded me.  I never did run that 8 x 800 workout successfully and completely during my last round of marathon training.

But this morning I did.  I beat the workout.  Add that to my growth list.

It was muggy this morning, but I really think I'm getting used to that and the heat (it was in the mid-70s when I stepped out the door at 5:30 A.M.).  My legs were a bit tired still from those 20 miles on Monday, but I shook that out in the first repeat.  I had the Garmin programmed (MAGIC!) to have me run those repeats between an 8:00 and an 8:15 pace, and I am happy to report that I stayed on the lower end of that on average for each repeat.

Again, I walk my recoveries.  Don't judge me.

But the more important thing is that I did all 8 of them.  All eight, baby.  You see, I was starting to fatigue by the 5th repeat.  The 6th repeat had my legs feeling a little wobbly.  And the 7th...that's where the real workout began.  I was fighting both mentally and physically to get through those last 2 repeats, ones that I had never done before because I had always stopped short.

Today was different.  That 8th repeat was hard.  It hurt.  I was wheezing at the halfway point, but I pushed through it.  More growth and progress, you see.  It is also interesting to note that an 8:05 pace felt pretty damn comfortable for those first 6 repeats--not bad for someone who used to struggle to maintain that pace for any workout such as this.

I'm just growing all over the place.  A veritable running growth spurt.  And, to make it an extra-special day, I realized that the pants I wore to work today were a size 4, not the size 6 I thought they were.  Bonus.

But today wasn't all rainbows and unicorns.  Because of the nasty hot weather, I did look similar to this at the end:

Only I wasn't carrying weights and I'm not a dude.  But the amount of sweat on the shirt is about the same.  And huge drops of sweat were pretty much flinging themselves off my body, as if it couldn't even stand to be near me.

Growth is good, but it's pretty damn sweaty.

photo credit: dalydose via photopin cc

Growth. I has it.

Workouts:

Monday - Two 10 mile runs (AM/PM)
Tuesday - Upper body weights & 10 minutes of abs with Cathe, my main workout squeeze

If I hadn't wimped out on my trail race in Texas on Saturday, I would really have been screwed today by Mother Nature. Today was hot and nasty and humid, and, if I had been on my regular schedule, I would have had to do some speed work this morning.  When I opened the door at 4 A.M. this morning to let out the dogs and felt the humidity and the heat (upper 70s) smack me upside the head, I was never happier that it was a cross-training day. Sometimes skipping a race/workout makes it all work out (ha!) in the end.

Because I didn't go to my race, that meant I had to do my 20 mile run that was originally on my training schedule yesterday (Monday).  Having done an 18 mile training run before going to work before, I knew that I'd fall asleep in the car on the way to work if I were to try and bust out a 20 miler in the early AM.  For us nonspeedy types, that's almost 4 hours of running before I would have headed off to the job that pays for all this running-if I hadn't fallen asleep in the car, I would have definitely conked out from the effort it takes just to press the power button on my school laptop after walking the 50 feet or so from the car to my office.  

Anyway, because sleeping in my office is frowned upon, I decided to split that 20 miler into two ten milers--one AM and one PM.  The AM one was nice. The weather was cool, there was a slight breeze, and the new dog that likes to run across the street at me while the owners yell wildly for him to stop from their bedroom window was inside for once.  But I was tired afterwards, not just from the 10 miles but also from the fact that I got in super late from Texas the night before.  So, after trotting for 10 miles and then trotting off to work and sitting in a chair all day, I was ready to keel over into someplace flat and warm and that contained a pillow and catch some Zzzzs.

But it was hot and humid when I got home.  I didn't want to go out for another 10 miles.  I forced myself out the door at 7:30, and, as the sun set, I did a 5 mile loop by my house-what I like to call an out and back and out and back course.  My legs weren't feeling too shabby, and I was surprised at that.  Maybe all that sitting at work gave the legs the rest they needed.

I did this run in my new Mizuno Wave Sayonaras, which I adore with all my heart because they are light and zippy and cause me to run much much too fast.  I have formed a bond with them that can only be described as unnatural.  I will unleash the deluge that is my adoration for these shoes in another post.

As the sun sank and the moon came out towards the middle of the run, the breeze was gentle and cool and the run became more tolerable, more enjoyable.  Well, except for the bugs would land on me or swarm my face.  That wasn't so nice.  I don't want to think about any extra protein I may have accidentally ingested.

I came back to the house soaked in sweat and dotted with dead bugs.  I was content, however.  Content and happy and all revved up.  Partly it was because of my new shoes, and partly because I was glad I hadn't skipped the second 10 miler.  That meant I wouldn't have excessive runner's guilt the rest of the week.

What I was most pleased with, however, was my growth as a runner.  As an educator, the word "growth" is replacing "achievement" in all the rhetoric surrounding our insane testing culture.  But growth is an important measure; it provides a means to reflect, to see where you have been--and where you have yet to go.  

I remember when running 10 miles was a major achievement.  I remember my first ten mile run, which was part of the training for my first half-marathon.  I recall literally trudging down the street by my house, quads locked and calves screaming, pushing with all I had to get through the last half-mile.  I collapsed when I got in the house, my legs righteously abused.  

And I ran 10 miles yesterday morning and then scampered off to work, my legs feeling as if they had just done an easy 3-miler rather than a 10-mile expedition through the almost-Wisconsin countryside.  My legs didn't feel that tired when I headed out for the second run.  While I could feel all 20 miles by the time I got done (especially in my knees today), I got up today and did my weight work without my legs giving me even a whimper.  All day at work they were feeling groovy.

I know I get down on myself all the time for cutting workouts short because of the heat, or not being able to tough out speedwork on the treadmill, or not having the confidence to think I can run a marathon faster than a 10 minute pace.  But I (like all runners at some point in their training) need to stop every now and then and look back and where I've been and compare that to what I can do now.  And then I have to allow myself to feel a little pride, a little triumph, gain a little more mojo...a little more confidence in what I can do. 

After that, then I need to look forward in order to improve.

And looking forward to the weather tomorrow, it looks like it will be cooler for my 8 x 800 workout.  Somehow I don't think I'll be cutting this session short.

Triumph, Wimping Out, and Texas Skunks

Workouts:

Thursday: 8 mile tempo run

Friday: 30 minutes on the bike; 30 minutes of upper body weights & 10 minutes of abs

Saturday: Rest

Sunday: 6 miles easy

Thursday's tempo run wasn't something I really wanted to do.  After my last round of marathon training, I was pretty much fed up with them, especially having to run some of them on the treadmill because Mother Nature decided she would be a cold you-know-what all the way through April.  Note to anyone who writes training plans-don't ever schedule the same workout for 16 weeks in a row; it's just stupid.  That's why this time around I am alternating my dreaded tempos with other tempo-esque workouts to mix it up and give me my much-needed variety.

But Thursday was a traditional tempo day, so, after I magically programmed my Garmin with the workout, I trudged outside to get it done.

And I beat the workout.  Talk about some mental magic going on right there.  The last mile was a struggle (I was keeping an 8:45 pace), but it was more mental than physical.  I was floating after that workout I was so happy to have totally owned it.

What I did not own was the 18-mile trail race I was supposed to do on Saturday in Texas (from where I am blogging at this very moment!).  While I am disappointed that I didn't get to run it, I am not disappointed that I didn't flirt with heat stroke-it was 101 degrees outside at 7 P.M. Saturday, the day and time of the race.  Instead, my sister and I decided to hang out for the day (scurrying into AC whenever we could), resulting in some serious relaxing in her new house afterwards:

Because I didn't get my 18 miles in on Saturday, I then planned on doing a 20-mile run in the wee hours of the Texas morning on Sunday.  However, even the best laid running plains can be shot to hell once you realize you came woefully unprepared.  I had no gels (since I didn't race we didn't go and get any, even though I saw some at a running store we visited!  Argh!) and my sister, who lives in Texas and does actually leave her house occasionally to go outside, had no sunblock in her house.  At all.  So, I was forced to restrict my run to the hours where the sun wasn't up--which meant that I could only squeeze in about 6 miles.  

Those 6 miles were interesting.  My sister lives in a subdivision that is along a main road that has a nice bike path/running path.  I took off on this path for an out and back in the 83 degree morning with my headlamp firmly in place, which gave me great views of the glowing eyeballs of a deer, 2 cats, 3 unrecognizable animals, and 2 skunks. It's the skunks of which I was the most afraid-they both raised their tails at me as I ran by, making me pick up the pace lest I be soaked in eau de skunkorama.  Thankfully they weren't there on the way back, but I did see an empty shotgun shell on the ground and had a cyclist almost sideswipe me as he passed me.  Texas cycling jerk.

I guess those 6 miles are better than nothing, but I am still going to have to deal with the fact that I still need to do my long run.  I'm going to have to be creative in getting it done.  Might even have to Ragnar it and split it into two runs.  We'll see how the week goes--just as long as I don't meet any more skunks on the run, it should be good.

Mental stuff.

Workout: Monday - Cathe's Muscle Endurance workout (upper-body split and abs); Tuesday - 3 x 1 mile repeats at 10K pace.

I was supposed to do 4 mile repeats this morning, but my legs were tired in the warm up and the morning was muggy.  It mugged me of my energy, water, and salt as it made me sweat buckets.  It was one of those sweats where droplets fling themselves off your elbows and smack you in the head and neck region once every 3 nanoseconds or so.

But oh man--was it better than doing it on the damn treadmill. And I am still enthralled with my Garmin's magical feature of being able to program workouts within it so it can boss me around much more accurately than it used to do.  I bet it's tired of telling me to slow down, though.

I struggled mightily in that 3rd repeat.  Mentally it was all I could do to finish.  I tried to do the 4th repeat, but my mind and body were done.  I could blame it all on the heat, but I can also blame the fact that I actually ran those repeats at my 5K pace. not my 10K pace.  I could tell my legs were spent as I started that fourth repeat, and I decided to exercise caution so I wouldn't get injured.  For once.

One thought that I did have while struggling through that last hellish repeat (I was trying to think of things other than my suffering) was the habit I have of showing up to races and thinking, "Everyone here is faster/better/stronger/more fit than me.  They're all going to kick my ass."

Why the hell do I do that?  Those thoughts run through my head every single time I have a race.  It's not so loud at my shorter races, but at my duathlon Sunday that was THE primary thought I had as I stood off to the side of the transition area, waiting for the race to start, just hoping I wouldn't embarrass myself too badly on the course.  I know it's because duathlons are still new to me, and I don't really know what to expect when I show up.

Well, I know to expect that I will think everyone there is better than me.  I guess it just takes time and training and a lot more falling off my bike-and getting back on-to give me more confidence.

My second duathlon = still justifying the purchase of my expensive road bike.

3:30 A.M.  That's what time I had to get up this morning in order to get to my duathlon, my second ever.  Between my 3:30 A.M. long runs and my races, it seems the best time to catch me these days is in the wee hours of the morning.  When only me and the critters who hang out in the ditches whose eyeballs glow in the light of a headlamp are up.

But I had to get up that early.  The race (the Dash Pedal Dash put on by the Schaumburg Park District) started at 6:30 A.M., which was good since it was already 70 degrees and muggy when I walked out of my house to leave at 4:15 A.M.  I made it to the race about an hour early, which was plenty of time to get out my bike and my gear and head on over to the transition area.  Once there, I was confronted with this:

You see, in my first duathlon there were no bike racks.  But here there were, obviously.  And me, with two college degrees, couldn't figure out how to put the damn bike on the rack for about 5 minutes.  Talk about my education not being applicable to real life.

After getting my bike on the rack (and then getting it on the proper rack) and setting up my area, I then checked in and got some neat-oh body marking:

I also got marked on both arms. And then I found out that duathlon participants didn't need body marking.  Guess I'll be wearing sleeves and pants to work for a while.

Anyway, this duathlon had a 12.8 mile bike ride sandwiched in-between two 5K runs.  Here's the race breakdown:

Run #1: Attack of Coughing Guy

The run was through a nice residential part of Schaumburg, and had two main loops.  I wasn't really interested in bursting a lung on this race, mainly because my legs were still recovering from the 18 miler I did two days ago.  My goal was to run an 8:30 pace to not only save my legs but also to save some for the bike and the last run. And I was meeting that goal when I came upon Coughing Guy.

It was about half way through the first run when I heard him.  I actually thought he was sneezing his way through the course when I came up behind him, and felt bad for his alleged allergies at first.  But then I started pacing him, and realized after he let loose a cough-hack-spit combo that he was coughing.

And coughing and coughing and coughing.

I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he was just really sick when he decided to run this race.  But I really couldn't take pacing him for more than 3 nanoseconds, so this forced me to speed up and run the rest of the race a little faster than I wanted to do (at about an 8:19 pace).  With the mugginess of the morning and the slightly faster speed, I was extremely happy to get to my bike and hop on.


12.8 mile bike ride: Pass me, huh?

This was a nice ride.  The course was well marked, there were volunteers everywhere, there were enough hills and turns to keep your mind occupied, and I really appreciated the breeze I was getting on the bike.  My average speed was around 17 miles per hour, and I was happy with that.  Just like with the run, I wasn't interested in going all out--I was interested in going as fast as possible without pushing my legs to the brink of collapse.

I did get passed by a lot of people with some serious-looking bikes, but they were mainly in the triathlon that was occurring at the same time, so I wasn't really worried.  I only got all competitive when I noticed some duathlon participants--some that I had passed in the run--were passing me in mile 9 or 10 or so of the bike.

Pass me, will you?  We'll see about that.


Run #2: Return of Coughing Guy and..well...the guy who sounded like he was REALLY happy to be running.

One of the bike riders who passed me was Coughing Guy.  I quickly caught up to him and passed him, the sounds of his cough-hack-spits ringing in my ears long after I passed him.  After that, I gradually picked off every single person who passed me at the end of that bike ride.  I was feeling pretty good about that...until I came across a runner who seemed REALLY happy.  Too happy.

This runner was an older gentlemen, and with every exhale he was letting loose a sound that can best be described as "climactic."  Scratch that-it can best be described as "someone having a good time but that good time should not be seen in public especially on a running course."  It was hard for me not to completely lose it and start laughing, mainly because I was still running an 8:19 pace and my lungs wouldn't allow it.  But hey, to each his own-we all have our own running styles and rhythms...and sounds.


My overall time was 1:41:49.  I am actually pretty pleased with this, because I initially expected it would take me 2 hours to finish.  However, one thing I will have to work on is my transitions.  They were both two minutes long, which is about one minute too long for each of them.  I think it's because I walked in my bike shoes during both of them; I'm going to have to practice getting my shoes off after my bike dismount so I can just high-tail it in my socks to my transition area.

But that time was good enough to take first in my age group:

I would love to show you some awesome photos of me during the race, but my race photographer decided 3:30 A.M. was too early to get up and stayed in bed this morning.  So I had to resort to taking a race selfie in the bathroom:

I know.  The depths to which I will sink just to get a race photo.

Running in the dark is scary.

Workout: Friday - 18 mile run; Saturday - Upper body weights & abs

Running in the dark is scary.  I haven't run in the dark in quite some time, but I did on Friday morning when I headed out at 3:30 A.M. for an 18 mile run.

Why so early?  Because I had to go to work that day, and needed to fit in that long run in the morning so I could rest the next day, which happened to be the day before my duathlon.  I can't skip the long run, people--it's the heart and soul of marathon training.

Anyway, back to the dark scariness.

I don't know what those two lines are at the top.  Ghosts, maybe.  OooooWEEEooooo

That was my view as I started out.  It was cool (60 degrees) and there was a slight breeze the entire run.  I was grateful it wasn't windy, especially after the windy winter through which I had trained for my April marathon.  But remember, I run in the country, and the weird glow of small critters' eyeballs in your headlamp is always a freaky site.  Especially when you don't really know to what animal those eyeballs belong.

Besides the freaky night-running animal glowing eyeball thing, the run started as it normally did--with me having to go to the bathroom every 20 minutes.  It was a veritable peepocalypse, let me tell you, in the first hour of that run.  However, I'll have you know that when you start your run in the dark, you can pretty much answer nature's call anywhere you want.  Just sayin'.

The sun gradually began to rise as I ran, and the moisture in the air from the slight fog was sticking to me, soaking my clothes by mile 7.  But it felt good because it was cool, and it was pretty neat-o to gradually watch the sun rise to my right as I ran.

The dirt is where I-90 used to be. 

Country road.

I ran out for about 9 miles.  Those were some slow miles for me, at one point doing almost 13 minute miles (!).  I felt like I was running faster, but apparently my legs were more tired from my almost tempo the day before than I realized.  So I decided to let them run slowly.  After all, long runs are about time on your feet and gaining endurance, not about speed.  Instead of focusing on the speed, I focused on how nice it was to run in the coolness.  And applying Chapstick to areas of imminent chafing (Chapstick works like a dream and is much more portable.  I'll never buy Body Glide ever again).   And thanking myself for bringing toilet paper in a ziplock bag along for the run.

That is, I ran slowly until the turn-around.  And then my legs began to speed up.  I was powerless to stop them.  My legs are trained for the negative split during training runs, apparently.  I just wish that would happen in an actual race for once.  Below are some of the sights on the way back (sights that were too dark to see on the way out).

Sun rising over the corn.  With fog.

"Hey Bertha, what the hell is that thing running by?"  "I don't know, Diane, but it looks crazy.  Don't go near it."

My legs were freaking tired by mile 15.  My quads were screaming and my IT bands were whining.  My right ankle was gibbering crazily.  But they just kept going faster and faster...I think the speed results from a subconscious desire to make the pain end as soon as possible.  My 18th and last mile was a 9:42, close to what my targeted marathon goal pace is.  I was happy to stop running and start stretching, and the morning was still cool and gorgeous to do that outside.

I look like Ronald McDonald in shadow.

While it sucked getting up at 2:30 A.M. to be out the door by 3:30 A.M., it was worth it for a few reasons:

• Like I said before, the world is your bathroom when it's dark outside.  As long as no one is sitting in their house with night-vision goggles on and the police on speed-dial.
• Scary darkness = no sun = no heat.  But it also = scary glowing unknown animal eyeballs.
• No one has their dogs running loose at 4 A.M.  Although coyotes have been known to run about around here....
• You can wear a hydration backpack without anyone giving you strange looks as you run by.
• While you have to start with a headlamp, you can take it off when the sun starts to rise.  Just have someplace to stash it (another reason I love my backpack).
• It's really really quiet.  It was just me and the sloshing of the water in my backpack running along.  And the occasional screeching hawk swooping in for the kill. (Or was that the kill that was screaming?)
• You get your run done for the day.  Then all you have to worry about is staying awake while you're trying to work the rest of the day.

I would definitely do this again.  In fact, I'll pretty much have to until it turns into full-blown autumn.  Better get used to those scary glowing eyeballs staring back at me, huh?

I totally tempoed today. Kind of.

I know I said in my last post I was going to race today.  That was before I woke up feeling like total crap.

The hubbs and I went out to dinner last night, and I was feeling pretty good until I went to bed.  My stomach kept bothering me all night, and felt pretty blah when I got out of bed at 4:30 A.M. today. 

I really didn't feel like racing.  I felt as if I would have a gastrointestinal event of epic proportions during the race.  And we all know how much that sucks.  Or is the opposite of sucking.  Or whatever.

So I didn't race.  I slept for another hour, and then proceeded to fart around on the internet before I went for my run.  But it's hard to fart around on the internet when your internet company keeps giving you internet for about 10 minutes and then yanking it away from you for about 20 minutes.  You sit by your computer with big puppy-dog eyes looking at your internet status icon, praying for that irritating yellow exclamation mark to go away before you can gleefully yet quickly shop and facebook the crap out of your computer until they yank the internet away from you again.  Those *REALLYBADWORD*s. 

But enough about my internet woes.  After I finished getting toyed with by my internet company, I got my butt up and went for a tempo run.  Kind of.  Remember, I have come to hate traditional tempo runs because my last training schedule called for 16 weeks of the same tempo run over and over and over.  Ugh.  So I came across a Runner's World article that listed some possible speed work options that could spice up my Thursday speed work.  Being desperate at the time of reading the article, I ripped out the page from the magazine and stapled it to the back of my training plan because I pretty much use staples on everything.  Except the dogs.

Today I did the workout they call "Ascending Ladders."  As the name implies, you do lengthier and lengthier runs at your marathon pace with a half-mile jog in-between each "rung" of the ladder.  The first run starts at 1 mile and the last is 4 miles, but they tell you not to go all the way to 4 on your first go around with this workout.  I decided to stop at 3 miles, and away I went.  Well, I programmed the workout into my Garmin first, and THEN away I went.  After putting on my headphones, sunscreen, and changing tops 3 times, I mean.

Here's the outcome:

I really dug this workout.  I ran about the same amount of miles I would have for my boring old tempo run, but this one was MUCH more mentally easy on me.  Don't get me wrong--it still trained me mentally, especially having to do the longest run at the end.  I was hanging on in that last mile.  Not because of the pace, but because of the heat and because of the fact that I really wanted to stop running.  So there was enough mental training going on here, which is always good preparation for paying to run 26.2 miles on one day when you could, on any other day, run the same route for free.  Albeit without water stations or post-run food or other runners spitting in front of you.

But what I really dug about this--like, really REALLY dug--was that I was running at my goal marathon pace.  During my last round of training, there were absolutely no runs at marathon pace.  Not one.  Most of my running was done at 10K pace or at easy run pace.  No wonder I couldn't get into a groove during the first three miles of my marathon--I had never practiced what my groove should be. In a previous half-marathon plan, there was tons of goal-pace running, which was probably why it helped me break the 2 hour mark in the half for the first time.

This workout shall be repeated.  Not every Thursday, but at least once a month.  And it shall be extended to include those 4 miles at the end (which, by the way, makes this workout around 13 miles).  I will still include tempo runs, but this workout makes for some nice variety on my long speed work days. 

And it may heal my tempo run-wounded soul. 

Oh yeah I have a duathlon & the magic of my Garmin

Workout: Speed session consisting of 3 x (1 x 1200, 1 x 400).  Weather was perfect.  Shin splints were quiet.  They know their place.

I don't have much time to write this evening, seeing as I got home late and have to be up early to do a brick workout.  Yeah, it seems that I kind of forgot I have a duathlon on Sunday (3 mile run, 13 mile bike, 3 mile run), so I have to do some rearranging of the ol' workout schedule this week.  So instead of my week looking like this:

Tuesday : Speed
Wednesday : 6 miles easy
Thursday: 8.5 mile tempo (UGH)
Friday: Rest (Ha!  That's code for "weights" and "biking")
Saturday: Long run
Sunday: Cross training


It is now going to look like this:

Tuesday: Speed
Wednesday: 10 miles on the bike, 3 mile run (better not be farting around tomorrow morning, eh?)
Thursday: 5 mile tempo in the form  of a 4th of July race in downtown Rockford (7 miles with warm up and cool down before and after the race)
Friday: Long run
Saturday: Rest (OK, this really means "rest.")
Sunday: Duathon!

I just can't skip a long run.  Not during marathon training. I am a moron.  But a moron that loves dangling close to the edge of injury!

As long as we're talking about injuries, I thought I would get one this morning during my speed session because I was a) wearing new shoes and b) running fast and c) forgot to wear my calf sleeves.  But I didn't.  My legs felt rather nice afterwards, and I am digging those Saucony Shadow Genesis shoes for speed work. Light and bouncy, they are, and they don't feel like a ton of shoe.

But what I liked the most was what my Garmin was doing.  It was bossing me around, but in a much more assertive manner.  That's because I actually programmed it ahead of time with the speed workout I was going to do on Garmin Connect, and then sent the workout to my device. Now, I thought I would totally screw this up, but all I had to do this morning was hit "Do Workout" and I was off and running (literally).  My watch told me when to warm up, when to do my intervals, and when to cool down.  It also kept reminding me that I was running much faster than my pace zone, but I got good at ignoring that incessant little chime.

But what I realized after I uploaded the workout to Garmin Connect afterwards was that, if you program the workout ahead of time, you get split times you can actually use:

I walked my recoveries.  Don't judge me.

My Garmin.  It is magical.

This along with the 50 degree weather we had this morning almost made up for all of the times I ran in the snow and single-digit wind chills this winter.

Almost.

Sunday Monday Randomness.

Workout: Sunday-Slow 12.3 mile bike ride (52:51) to let my legs recover.  No pushing big gears today, unless you count the time I couldn't switch the front gear because I am stupid.  Monday: 45 minutes of upper body weights (Cathe's Upper Body Pyramid DVD); 10 minutes of abs/core (Cathe's XTrain Core #1 Bonus)

Sunday was the first time ever that I cycled the day after a long run.  It was...slow.

It was actually nice to not be concerned about speed on the bike.  I actually got to take in the scenery, because, for once, the weather is absolutely freaking gorgeous and my thighs were pretty freaking tired from the 16 miles (plus Loki) the day before.  My quads were feeling a little tight last night and this morning, so I decided just to kill my upper body and core today and give the legs a much needed rest.  After all, they're going to get slammed with some speed work tomorrow morning.

And because I'm thinking of my speed work tomorrow morning, were you aware that Garmin Connect allows you to put in custom workouts and then send them to your Garmin?  I HAD NO IDEA.  I'm pretty sure you've been able to do this for a long time and I just haven't noticed.  I'm a bad runner.  Bad.

While I'm wallowing in my shame, check out my pretty workout I entered:

Click to enlargenate.

A page of purple-pink goodness, I tell you. I can't wait to see if I can actually do the workout from my Garmin tomorrow and not screw it up.

On a totally random note, here is some cool new running gear I have acquired recently:

How do I afford all of this, you ask?  I work extra "jobs" for which people give me "money" that I then give to "running gear companies" who send me these colorful trinkets in the "mail."  And beautiful trinkets they are--a pair of purple Pro Compression low-rider socks, two pairs of Ragnar compression socks (also by Pro Compression), and a pair of Saucony Shadow Genesis running sneaks that were a steal on the clearance table at a large sports retailer whose name is also a HUGE sexual innuendo.  Huge.

Anyway, I am wearing one of the pairs of Ragnar socks and the Sauconys tomorrow for my speed work in hopes that they will make me more speedy.  Or at least the socks will keep me warm; it's supposed to be cold tomorrow morning.