The hubbs' dental surgery is way more interesting than my workout today.

This morning's workout was 30 minutes of upper-body weight work along with 10 minutes of abs.  I have diligently been doing core 2 times a week in an effort to strengthen a weak left rectus abdominus that makes running a bit unpleasant at times, especially since it is in the lower lower abdomen, if you catch my drift.

It was an uneventful workout.  What was eventful was the fact that I did it this workout at 4 A.M. This is because I had to get my husband to his oral surgery appointment by 6:50 A.M. so I could be at work on time.  Then I had to leave work by 8:30 to go pick him up and take him home and keep an eye on him all day.

When I got there he was groggy and couldn't speak very well due to all of the bloody gauze in his mouth.  He looked sad, and wouldn't let me take any pictures of him because he was afraid I would post them on Facebook.  And he would have been right.  So, because I don't have any pictures of him, I took the liberty of sketching what he did look like when I saw him:

When we got home, he had to put this crazy ice pack on his face that went under his chin and fastened via velcro on the top of his head.  It had pockets along the sides to put in separate ice packs against each cheek.  Again, he wouldn't let me take pictures, so I drew what he looked like:

I know.  It looks like a bra is wrapped around his face.  That's what it looked like in real life, too. 

But enough talk about bras on people's faces.  Let's talk about this long run I have to do tomorrow.  I have 22 miles to do, and I plan on heading up to a trail I have never run before to do it.  It will be my longest training run to date, and while I will be suffering, it will give me a needed mental boost when I am in the final miles of my marathon.  Going to have to get up early to avoid the heat. 

And speaking of this heat...remember before my last marathon when I expected the weather to warm up and it never did because Mother Nature is a cold and heartless you-know-whatitch?  I am afraid now that the weather won't cool down enough by October for me to have a pleasant 2nd marathon experience.  I think taper madness is hitting me a bit early with all sorts of irrational fears.

If this is what I'm going through now, my actual taper should be FABULOUS.  I think I'll tell my husband to move out during those two weeks to retain his sanity.  And that way I can draw more pictures of him with all my free time.

Another tempo run survived.

My workout today was my dreaded 6 mile tempo run.  I forced myself out the door to do it, stepping into the very foggy darkness with my trusty head lamp, butt light, and reflective vest.

My first thought was all sciencey in nature: "Crap.  It's foggy.  That means the relative humidity is near 100%." (See how I snuck in both biology (crap) and meteorology (relative humidity) in there?)

My second thought was not sciencey at all: "Crap.  This also means I'm going to get drenched."

And drenched I was.  Even my eyelashes were clogging up with precipitation.  But I wasn't going to let that distract me from finishing my hated tempo run.  I was going to run all 6 miles at my target pace if it killed me.

Well, it didn't kill me, but I did manage those 6 miles at an average pace of 8:51.  I kept reminding myself how glad I would be in mile 22 of my marathon that I stuck it out and did all these tempos.  Reminding myself of this kept my mind off the fact that I am absolutely terrified of getting hit by a car while running in the dark.  Add some thick soupy fog like there was this morning and I have full-blown panic attacks at the mere glimmer of oncoming headlights.  I'm all like "Do they see me?  They don't see me.  Do they see my blinking lights and reflective vest?  Maybe?  Probably not." whenever I see a car, and then I scamper far into the ditches on the side of the road when they pass me.  I think I'm going to break my ankle in the ditch before a car hits me.

The other thing I kept reminding myself about was how drenched I was becoming.  At one point I looked down and thought I had peed myself without my knowledge.  But no--it was just all sorts of sweat forming a nice spot on the front of my awesome purple running skirt:

In fact, I was a true running vision in purple this morning:

Now if only I could blog smells.  You'd really get a sense of how hard I worked to run all 6 miles of that tempo run.  Anyhoo, despite the darkness and the fog, it was a pretty good run. Mentally it was a huge victory for me; I think I am developing a thick mental skin (finally).  Let's hope it stays thickened up for the 22-mile run on tap for Saturday morning.

Midweek Workout Wrap-Up

Workouts:

Monday - Cathe's Muscle Endurance with my oh-so-awesome barbell, baby.
Tuesday - 8 x 800m repeats at supposedly 10K pace but really at my mile pace
Wednesday: 15 mile bike ride

I decided on Monday to recover from my duathlon by pumping some iron and leaving my legs alone.  I busted out my barbell for a nice workout that involved a lot of bicep curls using that baby.  Those same bicep curls came back to haunt me the next day, as it hurt to straighten my arms at any point in time.  It's amazing the difference a barbell makes--I was actually lifting less weight that I normally do on the barbell, but holding that bar must work the muscles differently for me to start feeling it so soon afterwards.

Not being able to extend my arms without pain did make for a rough start to Tuesday's workout, when I stepped outside at 4:45 A.M. to run some 800 m repeats and was promptly engulfed by heat and humidity.  I shrugged it off and began my warmup, and ran the first repeat into the wind, which actually wasn't that bad.

It was when I turned around and began to run those repeats with the wind at my back that I ran into some trouble.

At the start of the 5th repeat I was tired.  I was dripping so much sweat off my body I'm sure I could have been classified by a meteorologist as a "rain event" on a weather map.  I began the repeat, but about 10 seconds in I stopped running.  The heat and humidity had gotten to me.  I considered walking back to the house, but then I stopped and stared straight ahead in the direction I had been running.

I thought to myself, "You've done this before.  You can do it again.  Just make it to 6 repeats and we'll see."

I made it to 6.  And then 7.  And finally got to 8 (running back into the wind for that last one...the cooling effect was nice, but it did slow me down a bit).  Funny, I never even thought about quitting or the heat after that slight pause to get my mental act together and suck it up.

This morning was a little better heat-wise, although the humidity was still clinging to everything in sight.  Luckily I had a bike ride planned for this AM, so I scampered downstairs into my bike shoes and helmet, grabbed my bike, and then headed out the door.

And then I went back inside because I had no reflective gear/lights on.  It's dark at 5 A.M. now, peeps.  How depressing.

I threw on my reflective vest and grabbed a flashing red light to slap on the back of the bike.  I strapped on my reflective ankle straps, and then began to fight with my headlamp.  I tried to strap the thing on below my helmet, but it looked and felt weird, like it would slip down onto my face at any time.  Plus, my batteries were dying and I didn't have time to scrounge up new ones--I had to get out the door so I could work out and get to my job (the place that pays me so I can buy all my fancy schmancy gear) early.

I shuffled through my running gear basket, looking for something-anything-that would work better than duct-taping a flashlight to my handlebars.  And I found my knucklelights.

These are some bright brighty-bright lights that go around your knuckles (duh).  They work quite awesomely for running if you don't mind having to clasp something in both hands the entire time.  On the bike...not so awesome, but they solved my problem temporarily.  I clasped one in my left hand, leaving my right hand free to actually hit the brakes and shift gears.  It was an OK fix-and it would have been better if the light hadn't gone off every time I hit a bump.  I had to keep smacking it to get it to come back on.  You can probably tell by now that I did not cycle as fast as I normally did for the first part of the ride.  I couldn't wait for the sun to come up so I could toss the knucklelight in back pocket of my cycling jersey and steer with both hands again.

I think I should just invest in some of these.  Only $500 a wheel:

Or maybe haul my ass to Target and pick up a $20 light for the front of my bike.

Minneapolis Duathlon: Feeding my duathlon monkey

I am really getting to like these duathlon things.  The state of this like is seriously beginning to approach my love of bulleted lists.  You know it's freaking serious then.

Anyway, I just completed my third one, the Minneapolis Duathlon, touted as the "World's Largest Duathlon." I was convinced by a Ragnar buddy of mine who also is addicted to duathlons to do it, and I am totally glad I came up to experience the joy that is this fitness event.  In my usual futile attempt to keep the handful of readers I have, I will summarize this awesome experience into a small series of salient bullet points in a totally inappropriate PowerPoint-esque manner:

• It was hot.  Really hot.  We left at 4:30 A.M to drive to downtown Minneapolis, and we were rudely assaulted by the heat and humidity after we stepped outside the door.  But we weren't going to let that stop us-we had 3.1 miles and then 15.9 miles and then 3.1 miles of duathlon goodness awaiting us.
• After getting all our numbers affixed on ourselves and our bikes, we set up our transition areas and then headed off to a local coffee shop so I could grab a bagel.  We then expressed our displeasure at getting up so damn early:

• This really is a big duathlon.  It seemed that the runner-cyclists were springing forth from the very earth in the transition area and scattering bikes, sports drinks, bike shoes, and energy gels amongst the many rows of bike racks.

• The first run was hot.  Hot hot hot.  I broke down by the water station in mile 2 and walked through it. This run was also long-3.4 instead of 3.1, according to my Garmin.  But you did get to run through the downtown area and over the river; it was a nice course.
• I was extremely glad to get on the bike after that hot run.  There were some serious winds, however, coming in the very direction in which we started biking, so that made it a bit challenging.  On the turn-around, however, I took off and started flying in the last 7.5 miles or so.  Well, whenever people who were going slower than me weren't riding side-by-side and blocking the route.  
• The bike route had more people on bikes than I have ever experienced.  It was a little nerve-wracking for me to ride around so many people on bikes; at first, all I could do was start calculating the probabilities that I would smack into one of them and cause an accident.  After about mile 6 or so I calmed down and chose someone to "race" with.  I have a habit of picking a person at the start of races with whom I am privately competing.  I'll have you know that I won my little race during the bike ride, even if we kept passing each other over and over again in the last 7 miles.  I outpaced her on the last hill right before we got back to the transition area.  Ha!  Take that, person who didn't even know I totally took you down in my own private race with you!  Yeah!
• My transition time totally sucked the big one.  I had the hubbs switch out my clip pedals with my regular pedals for this race so I would have a better transition time (due to not changing shoes).  Little did I know that I would have to pee like nobody's business after my first run and would end up waiting in line for the port-a-john, making my total transition time 3:39.  All that planning just so my bladder could ruin it all. 
• And speaking of those pedals, I hate them.  Give me my clip pedals and bike shoes any day.  I could totally feel the inefficiency of those old clunky pedals--specifically, I felt it in my calves as they were starting to cramp by mile 13. The way my feet were working on the pedals felt very different to me, as if I had to work to keep my foot on the pedal.  Very unnatural and painful towards the end of the ride.
• The second run was called off due to the heat, so I got my finisher medal as soon as I hopped off my bike.  Disappointing, to say the least.  But at least I got in a nice run and a pretty awesome ride before getting my hopes dashed to the ground.  (OK, it wasn't that bad.  But I was sad that I didn't finish.)
• This race had some pretty sweet and copious swag: (plus $5 bike jerseys at the expo!)

And some pretty good company:

And that company includes the cat-dog Lily:

Like I said, I am really getting to like these duathlon things.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find another one to satisfy the duathlon monkey that's now kicking and screaming on my back.

Ragnar Great River 2013: My Ultra Learnings

As you can probably tell from the title, I ran another Ragnar this weekend.  I have always wanted to do the Great River edition of Ragnar, simply because it is relatively close to my house and it is a Ragnar.

But I never really expected to do it as a part of an ultra team.

If you don't know how a Ragnar ultra team works, here's the low-down in a numbered list because numbered lists are the shiznitz: (Bulleted lists are better, but I'm doing this through the Blogger app on my iPad right now, which doesn't allow me to do that.  Jerks.)

1. You have 6 runners instead of 12

2. You all ride in one van

3. You run 6 times instead of three

4. You have to be asked to do this right after you have run a regular 12-person Ragnar because you are still on a high from that and will say yes to anything involving the word "Ragnar."

I wanted to give you the low down of all six of my runs in this post, but I would also like to keep the 5 or fewer readers I already have.  Therefore, I will boldly use the numbered-list blogging technique twice in one post and just share with you my ultra-good learnings from my ultra Ragnar experience:

1. An equation: (6 runners + 6 runs each) = THE STENCH THAT CANNOT BE QUANTIFIED.

2. Another equation: THE STENCH THAT CANNOT BE QUANTIFIED + 6 dirty running outfits + 2 days in plastic bags = ONE STENCH TO RULE THEM ALL.  The hubbs accidentally wandered into the laundry room when I had all 6 stinky running outfits jammed into the confined space of the washing machine tumbler.  He left that room a changed man, and not for the better.

3. After the 4th run, your legs are no longer speaking to you.  During the 6th run, if you listen carefully, you can hear some talk of secession from your body.

4. You can do more than you think you can.  The 5th and 6th runs are purely mental.  You do what you can to make it to the next exchange.  My 5th run trick was convincing myself that 6 miles really wasn't that far.  My 6th run trick was actually walking for a minute and then running half a mile, and then repeating that over and over again.

5. "You should have pooped when you had the chance."  Wiser words were never spoken at a Ragnar.  Let's just say the last 4 miles of my 6th run were spent literally sucking it up from an opening other than my mouth. 

6. Ultra runners are a calm bunch.  No drama, no whining.  Everyone got out there and got it done.

7. As one of my teammates (Heidi) pointed out, on an ultra team you get to see the entire course. 

8. Maximize your nonrunning time with rest.  Everyone ran as two different runners, so you really had to use your time wisely between runs.  There were about 3-4 hours of rest in-between each run, so you had to make sure to get some shut-eye.  We determined that you could stay awake for at least one runner after you, but after that you slept until it was almost your turn again.  This is why I only have pictures of my teammate Mike (the runner after me) instead of everyone this time.

9. You can take an entire shower in a sink if you want to.  Well, you pretty much have to because there  is NO time to take advantage of any showers offered at exchanges-your ass (and your van) must get to each exchange pronto.  

10. The green ultra bib garners instant respect and Ragnar street cred.

As you can see, I learned a lot, and had a blast. I met and ran with some fantastic people, and I would do an ultra again in a heartbeat (maybe not Great River...my quads are speaking to me now, but they are screaming at me about all those hills).  

At least I have my shiny medal to comfort me.  It even says "ultra runner" on the thingie that helps hang it on your neck:

And a bonus: I got my double medal for doing Chicago & Great River in the same year.

It's making for quite the medal collection.  

Too bad I won't be able to get any more until next summer. Can't wait for Ragnar Chicago to roll around so I can get my relay run on.

My fastest 20 miles yet: One bloody long run.

Workouts:

Monday: 12 mile bike ride
Tuesday: 8 x 800 at 10K pace in the AM; 3 mile easy run on the PM
Wednesday: 15 mile bike ride
Thursday: 6 mile tempo run at HM pace
Friday: Cathe's SuperCuts DVD that left me with glutes and core of soreness.
Saturday: 20 mile long run

I haven't blogged in a while.  My work has suddenly gotten all sorts of crazy, this being our week before school starts, and I have basically spent most of my time in meetings and at back-to-school nights.  This has left very little time for blogging, unfortunately, but I am seeking to remedy that today.

Tuesday's speed work was rough.  Like I've said before, I'm not used to doing eight 800s; six used to be my maximum.  The real workout began in the 5th repeat, and I had to push to finish the workout-but finish I did.  The same thing happened on the tempo run I did on Thursday-by mile 3 I was feeling the burn, but I soldiered onward, making it to the end and happy it was freaking over.

It was a rough week, generally, as far as my workouts went, with a lot of mental pushing and shoving.  So, instead of taking it easy like I should have on Friday and doing upper-body only, I did a workout that caused my glutes to start burning by mid-day.

This did not bode well for the 20 mile run I had to do the next day.

I was supposed to do that 20 miler last weekend.  However, after doing the Rugged Maniac mud obstacle run last Saturday, my ankles were screaming and crying and weeping, so I just didn't have the heart to make them run 20 miles all banged up.  So I skipped it last weekend and decided to do those 20 miles this weekend.

So, after much obligatory farting around, I got dressed in an orange shirt, running shorts, my orange Ragnar compression socks, and my bright blue Glycerin 11s.  (If I'm going for a long run, people are going to get an blast of color in the eyes from me, dammit.)  I drove down to my usual trail and got started at about 1 P.M.  By this point in the day it was hot (around 79 degrees) but it wasn't humid, and there was a nice breeze.  Thankfully large portions of the trail were shaded by trees, so that made for some nice running.

I really wasn't enthused about the run, though.  I kept glancing at my watch, just wanting it to be over.  My legs seemed to be going too fast, speeding up even though I willed them to slow down.  The heat was getting to me after running through a section of the trail that was unshaded, and I was looking forward to the 10-mile turnaround so I could finally be heading back towards my car. Just before that turnaround happened, I developed an itch underneath my right nostril.  As I reached up to scratch the itch with my right index finger, my foot hit an uneven part of the trail, causing my finger to move in a more northward direction than I intended.  As a result, my finger went up my nose a bit, with my fingernail slamming into the nice delicate blood-vessel-rich skin there.

It hurt, but I didn't think anything of it.  Until I felt something running down my nostril and onto my chin.  When I wiped it with my hand, I saw nothing but red.  A river of bright red blood was now carving a valley out of my nose and down my chin, forming a small delta on my shirt.

Panicking, I grabbed the bottom of my bright orange shirt and held it to my nose, thereby drenching it in blood and afterwards looking like I had been stabbed in the lower left abdomen.  Thinking fast, I grabbed the toilet paper I always have with me on long runs out of its plastic bag and shoved a part of it up my nose.  It was also drenched within seconds.  I kept having to tear off a piece, shove it up my nose, and replace it when it got soaked with blood.  Mind you, this is all happening with cyclists and other runners whizzing by me, giving me quizzical looks and/or stopping and asking me if I was alright.

I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't had my trusty TP with me.  Use a leaf?  Knowing me, I would have grabbed some poison ivy rather than some innocuous plant life along the side of the trail.

This went on for about a good mile and a quarter.  Let me tell you, it's hard to apply direct pressure to a wound that is inside your nose.  But finally the bleeding slowed to a trickle, and I could resume my normal running.  Well, actually, I was running the whole time this was happening, just slower than normal.  God forbid I stop for rivers of blood flowing freely out of my snout.

Anyway, after that I began to get hot.  And tired.  And thirsty.  I had water in the ol' Camelbak, but it was warm.  I wanted cold water.  Ice cold water.  I started dreaming about it in mile 13, and was desperately mentally slobbering for it by mile 16.  Thankfully I was running through a small town called Poplar Grove by that time, so I stopped at a small local store to grab some ice cold H2O goodness.  As I stepped into the store, the manager came out from behind the counter and then stopped.  And stared at my shirt.  And then let out a gasp.

The store at which I stopped in Poplar Grove and one of the cyclists that gave me weird looks.

I must have been quite the sight, standing there all sweaty and nasty with blood on my face, neck, and shirt.  But at the time I just thought the clerk was a weirdo, not realizing the bloody mess I was, and I walked back to the coolers full of crystal clear cold water and grabbed two bottles.  After the clerk cautiously handed me my change, I walked outside and promptly downed one bottle on the spot.  It was like drinking the sweat of angels, it tasted so damn good.  I took the other bottle and refilled my Camelbak with its cold delicious angelic goodness, and then ate a bit of a bar I had brought with me.

I did this all in front of some cyclists that had stopped at the same store.  I was again getting stares.  I figured those stares were out of sheer jealousy at the awesomeness of my Camelbak, and then turned and made my way back to the trail to finish out my 4 remaining miles.  Right before I got back to the trail, I saw this written on a picnic table:

Keepin' it classy in Prairie Grove.

It wasn't until I got back to my car that I saw I looked like I had either a) survived a knife attack or b) perpetrated a knife attack on someone and had the victim's blood all over me.  Fantastic.  I guess me wearing bright orange socks paired with bright blue shoes just wasn't enough to make me stand out on the trail that day.

However, despite all the blood and longing for cold drinks, this run was fantastic for another reason-it was the fastest I have ever run 20 miles.  It was a full 10 minutes faster than any 20 mile training run I had ever run before.  My legs just didn't seem to want to slow down at all-I meant to keep the entire run in the 11s the entire time, but ended up in the upper 10s for a lot of those miles.

It's like I'm getting faster or something.  It's making that 9:30 marathon pace seem more and more realistic.  If I can pull that off during my marathon, it will be absolutely amazing.

Oh, and you know what else is amazing?  All that blood washed right out of my orange running shirt-it looks good as new.  Just an FYI for all you crazy people like me who give themselves nosebleeds on 20 mile long runs.

Rugged Maniac 2013: Mud, fun, and possible water-borne diseases.

I do love me a good mud obstacle course. My course of choice this summer was the Rugged Maniac 5K held in Wilmot, Wisconsin.

This race is so badass they make you jump over a wall just to get into the starting corral.

It's also badass because it takes place at a ski resort.  That means hills, people-and lots of them.

Oh I know those hills look all cute and small and stuff in that picture.  But they were beasts, I tell you.  Steep-ass thigh-frying lung-burning BEASTS.

As you come out of the starting corral, you race up the first of those beasts.  Well, maybe not "race;" more like "try and run and then realize you will never make it up the hill running so you stop and walk and hope you don't cause a massive people-pile-up behind you."  After you top that hill, you then run downhill over uneven ground down to your first obstacle- a mud pit.  After that, the race becomes a blur of running over bumpy ground, one obstacle after another (mostly walls and cargo nets), and climbing up those freaking hills.

I would like to talk about a few obstacles worthy of extra verbiage:

1) The water slide in mile 3.  This is perhaps the most fun obstacle (if you can call it an obstacle) that is on the course. Super-slippery, you go down fast and hit the pool of water at the bottom with a ginormous splash that feels fantastic that late in the race.

2) The sand dunes.  I started the race with a small rock in my shoe that bugged me until the sand dunes you had to climb up and down.  After that I had TONS of small rocks in my shoes and I didn't have to worry about the first one anymore.

3) The super-steep hills.  There were two occasions where you had to climb hills so steep they had to put down ropes for you to pull yourself up the hill while you were trying to climb the hill.  What's cruel is that the second hill is much steeper than the first hill.  Oh, the swear words I heard at the top of those hills.

4) The mud pits.  They put real barbed wire over the top of them so you were forced to crawl on your knees and/or belly.  Not that I mind; this was a mud obstacle race, after all.  But I wish I had worn capris that covered my knees, because they were pretty banged up from all the rocks and whatnots through which I was crawling afterwards.  One of those whatnots included a corrugated metal drain pipe I had to slide through head-first towards the end of the race.  Speaking of that pipe obstacle...

5) The pipe obstacle with the pool of nasty smelling water.  After diving head-first through a pipe, you slid straight into a pool of muddy, foul-smelling water.  I managed to keep my head above it, but you still had to swim through the water with your head not scraping the barbed wire strung above you.  This meant the water had to come up to my lips.  Yummo.  I managed to get to the other side without putting any more of my head under the water, where I then had to now go up a huge drain pipe with only a rope to help me.  And a rope without any knots in it, even.

This is where all my upper body weight work paid off.  I could actually pull myself up that pipe this year, unlike last year where some gentlemen kindly offered me a push and then shoved my ass up the pipe.  Mind you, I didn't do it fast and there was plenty of teeth baring and grunting involved, but I did it.  It made every moment of hated shoulder-work worth it.

6) The balance beam.  I'm the first to admit that my balance sucks.  So having to walk on a beam across greenish-nastyish-there is surely some disease lurking in there-water is just asking for trouble.  I got to that obstacle and started to cross....and then stopped.  I didn't really have a strategy for this.  I was trying to ballerina-side-step it across, and it just wasn't happening.  I got about a foot and half out and then decided to back up and try again.  When I backed up and tried again, the volunteer working the obstacle screamed, "GO ON, DON'T BE A QUITTER!  YOU CAN DO IT!"

My response?  "I KNOW I CAN DO IT.  NOW BE QUIET AND LET ME DO IT."

And then I did it by prancing across the beam as lightly and as quickly as I possibly could, cringing at the greenish brackish water in the ditch below the obstacle.  I"m glad that I was in the first wave, because after I was finished that same obstacle looked like this:

Check out those long lines.  There was nothing like that when I went through.  Amazing the difference an hour and a half makes on the course.

I saw those lines again at the final obstacle, a climb over some cargo containers and then up cargo netting (I sense a cargo theme).

When I got there during the race there was no mud at all on the wall.  Looks like a lot of muddy runners had flung themselves on that thing after I did.

I took a lot of other post-race pics because my race photographer decided to stay in bed rather than come with me, so here are some other random pictures I took from the day:

The finish line before anyone had crossed it.

Attack of the mud people.

The last obstacle.

The last of three mud pits.  Barbed wire = bonus.

Obligatory mud run fire jumping.

Before the mud run.....

....after the mud run.  And a rinse.

Despite the water from which I am sure I will contract a fatal disease, I love this race.  It is challenging and fun at the same time, even if there are hills from hell all over it.  I must say that as I write this the next day, my entire body is sore, especially my ankles.

It's going to make my 20 mile training run this afternoon all the more interesting.

Flipping a coin to decide your workout isn't a good strategy.

Workouts:

Wednesday: 6 mile easy run
Thursday: 8 mile tempo (6 at pace)

I wrote earlier about my dilemma concerning whether or not to add my 6 mile easy runs back into my training schedule on Wednesdays.  I woke up Wednesday not sure which one I was going to do...run or bike or run or bike or RUN OR BIKE DAMMIT was all I could think about after I got up.  I finally decided which one I was going to do through a highly scientific process known as "flipping a coin."

It came up "run".  So I did.  And now I regret it.  My left ankle/shin is now so tight I don't even think my foam roller will make a dent, especially after running an 8 mile tempo this morning--a tempo run that I successfully finished, unlike last week, in the cooler temperatures of the morning and at 15 seconds slower per mile than I attempted last week.

Gee, I guess I know what I'll be doing next Wednesday, huh?

The only good thing about all of this is that I did remember to wear my new compression socks for both of these runs.  On Wednesday it was super foggy when I got up, so I decided to wear my neon yellow shoes and my Ragnar compression socks:

I swear to God it felt like those shoes were glowing in the fog, sending off beams of neon light streaming into the grey morning.  Too bad drivers still didn't see me and I had to run in the ditch.  A lot.

This morning was much less foggy, so I decided to try out my royal blue Pro Compression calf sleeves and socks, which are totally awesome because they are BLUE.

Please to note the cute running skirt.  The shirt I was wearing was not so cute, but I wore it because it was a long sleeve shirt and  I thought it would be cold outside for some strange reason.  It wasn't.  This morning, therefore, was one of those mornings where I wished I had a superhot skinny body so I could have just stripped off the shirt during the run and strutted down the street in just my sports bra and running skirt.  But instead I just had to suck it up like the former bigger girl that I am and hope like hell for a breeze.

Thankfully tomorrow is one of those "rest" days where I do stuff like weights and biking.  I'll have to keep it easy, though, because Saturday is my first mud obstacle course race for the summer--the Rugged Maniac.  Last summer I could barely haul myself up any of the ropes, so I'll be interested to see if I have gained any strength from all the weights I've lifted in the past year.

Last year at this Rugged Maniac race (the hardest 5K I have ever run in my LIFE, people) a guy had to push me up by my posterior region through a pipe that had a rope in it because I couldn't physically pull myself up the rope.  So here's to hoping I don't have to have a strange man touch my ass to help me through an obstacle on Saturday.  Oh--and here's to also hoping that I don't injure myself even further jumping over walls or fire.