Goodbye, Green.

Hello, snow.  Goodbye, green.  At least it was nice for my 12 miler yesterday.  I guess the face-freezing sideways-snow blowing days are upon us.

I will tolerate all of the brown.  But I will never accept it.  Circle of life be damned.

Good thing it was a "rest" day today.  I did a Cathe high step circuit DVD that was awesome because it used the barbell.  It was not so awesome because you had to do 32 leg presses at the start of each circuit.  There were 5 circuits. I'll let you do the math.

DAMMIT, CATHE, HOW MANY LEG PRESSES DOES A WOMAN NEED?

Well, I guess this woman needs a lot.  I have to lose 20 pounds.  I got on the scale and had another meltdown this morning, the end result of stress-eating Halloween candy for 2 weeks.  Here we go...time to get lighter, stronger...and faster.

Today's Long Run Recap

I haven't blogged here in a bit.  I think I finally got a handle on my new job so that won't be all-consuming of my time, so I have decided to post more often here, even if it's just a picture with a smarmy caption.

Cue picture:

There won't be a smarmy caption this time.  However, there will be a step-by-step rundown of the key events that occurred on this run, using a magical system called "the numbers below correspond to the numbers on the map above."

1. Around a mile into the run.  I want to stop because I ran 6 miles in 70 minutes the day before on the treadmill in minimalist shoes, and I can feel my right ankle protesting.  But I speed up because two dogs start chasing my ass down the road.

2. Reveling in the joy that is running head-on into cold winds.  Thinking about how much fun it will be to train through the winter again for my next marathon.  Trying not to cry.

3. First encounter with scary pit bull.  This dog doesn't jump over the fence, mainly because there are three strips of barbed wire across the top of it. It's the same dog that escaped one time and almost got me.

4. Encountered another dog, one that I call "carpet dog" because once, when I rode by on my bike, I thought someone had left a big pile of old white shag carpet out in the middle of their yard.  Until it moved and started barking.  Decided to turn around and head back early because I didn't want to find out if the walking carpet also had jaws of steel.

5. To make up some mileage, I headed down a side road that was surprisingly paved.  Nature called along this road, and I answered that call behind a bush with no leaves.  At the exact moment I hung up on the call, a car drove by and spotted me.  Damn-my first sighting.

6. Second encounter with scary pit bull.  This time, as I rounded the corner, he shoved his head and one shoulder through the chicken wire-esque fence as I scampered southward.  SCARY.

7. After doing some math, realized I was going to come up short in my mileage if I didn't do something.  Decided to suck it up and run westward into the wind one last time for the sake of making up a mile.

8. Realized my mental math capabilities totally and completely suck, because after some quick recalculations I now figured I would have about an extra quarter of a mile to run after I hit my target 12 mile mark.  Decided to take a sort of shortcut so I wouldn't have to run past my house and then come back (which is sheer agony, I tell you, to do at the end of a long run).

Even though it was cold, the sun was out, and it was a very nice fall morning.  I better enjoy them while they last-before the face-freezing sideways-snowing running days are upon me.

Twin Cities Marathon 2013: If you don't hurt, you're not getting your money's worth.

Goofing before the marathon.

I have to stop being upset about my finish time for yesterday's Twin Cities Marathon.  4:19:54 official time; 4:15:55 my watch's official time.

I wanted a 4:10.  But I guess I didn't want it bad enough.

Let's do a little review of the miles, shall we?

Thoughts during miles 1-13:

"Yeah!  Alright!  I can do this!  I am so maintaining a 9:30 pace!  I know I said I would start at 9:44, but I am feeling awesome right now!"

Thoughts during miles 14-18:

"OK, not feeling so awesome.  But I can still do it.  I may not hit a 4:10, but a 4:15 would still be doable.  My quads are really starting to feel like blocks of wood, but I've felt this way before.  I can stick it out."

Mile 18.6 or so.

Thoughts during miles 19-21:

"My God I can't feel my quads.  Still busting out a 9:30 pace.  I'm really freaking tired.  I have to pee.  I'll use that port-a-john.  No line-BONUS!  God, it feels good just to sit down.  But gotta keep moving...."

Thoughts during miles 22-26.2:

"AIEEEEEEEEE."  (It's at this point I got sharp stitches in my back right below my rib cage on either side, as if someone were stabbing me with a knife.  It got hard to breathe and I had to stop and walk several times. It's when I stopped to walk that my left foot decided to keep trying to charlie horse on me.)  "Alright, you can run for a little bit before the pain starts again.  Push push push AIEEEEEEEE."


The last 5 miles were pretty much miserable for me.  What made it more miserable was that a lady got in my face when I was walking off a back cramp and told me to "dig deep."  You can imagine my response.

At least I crossed the finish line feeling as if I had nothing left to give.  No more gas in the tank.  It was all I could do to run the last half mile towards the finish.  And when I crossed the line, my legs seized, hurting so bad that I was whimpering slightly as I wound my way through the finishing medals, fruit, photo opportunities, and finisher shirts. The only comfortable position I could find was squatting oh-so-ladylike near the ground, which I did at my earliest convenience by a wall near the State Capitol (St. Paul) lawn.  So there I was, squatting near a wall, keening every now and then like a madwoman.

But, like Frank Shorter says, everyone hurts after a marathon.  "And if you don't hurt, you aren't getting your money's worth."

But I finished.

And my time, while decent for me, isn't what I wanted.  I feel I should have, could have done better. I have been replaying what I did wrong over and over again since I crossed that finish line, and here's what I have come up with:

• Not enough quad strength work.  I focused on upper body tons and did a lot of stuff for calves and hammies, but neglected my quads for the most part.
• My tempos weren't long enough.  6 mile tempos aren't cutting it for teaching me endurance at my race pace. I think I need to do some longer (10-12 mile) tempos at race pace for more specificity in my training.
• I skipped a few long runs.  I could tell.  Next time that will not happen.  Less racing on weekends and more training.
• I was sick all this week-and my lungs weren't 100%.  I was still coughing up multi-colored crap the night before the race.  I think the back-stabbing pains were from breathing heavier and taxing those muscles.  It must have been that or someone had busted out a voodoo doll of me without my knowledge.
• I mentally collapsed at mile 21, knowing that I had a 3 mile uphill ahead of me.  I was tired and freaked out.  Next time more sucking it up and keep on keepin' on.
• I should have stuck to the plan and raced the first half at 9:44 and then sped up to a 9:30 for the second half.  The excitement and adrenaline and the crowds got me all worked up into a "starting too fast" frenzy.  Total rookie mistake.

I just feel shitty that I had to walk.  But I should focus on the positives:

• My official time is 15 minutes better than my first marathon.  If you look at my watch time, it's almost 20 minutes better.  That alone should have me jumping for joy.  If I could jump right now; my quads are a tad sore today.
• I finished.  I didn't give up.  The thought of quitting never crossed my mind.  (The thought of how the hell I was going to make it for 5 more miles did, however.)
• I busted out a freaking awesome nearly 9:30 pace for nearly 21 miles.  Twenty-one miles.  I have never run that far that fast ever in my life. 
• This was only my second marathon.  I must remember it took me 4 half-marathons before I broke the 2 hour mark.

That 4:10 finish is in my sights.  I've signed up for the Glass City Marathon in Toledo again at the end of April, 2014.  It shall be mine.

How to get sick and get well 6 days before your marathon.

I have a marathon in two days (!).  So, of course, I managed to get a sinus infection six days before it.  I am freaking awesome that way.

Here's how to get sick before your marathon:  Race every weekend before it, running an obscene amount of miles.  Also run 20 miles one day and race a 15K the next, forcing yourself to don full-length compression sleeves afterwards.  Then clean your entire house, getting a big whiff of cleaning chemicals and making your sinuses vulnerable to infection.

Here's how to get better in 6 days:

Monday: Wake up feeling like someone took a bristle brush to the inside of your sinuses.  Scream "Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" as loud as you can when you get up.  Go cycling in the pitch dark, and then sinus rinse when you get done.  Sinus rinse again before you go to bed.  Don't take any meds because you want your body to handle it.  Find a back-up marathon to run in case you can't run on Sunday.  Cry yourself to sleep.

Tuesday: Wake up with creeping congestion in your sinuses.  Sinus rinse in the morning and before bed.  Take ibuprofen to combat the mounting pressure in your face.  Complain profusely about the fact that you are sick to anyone who will listen.

Wednesday: Congestion hits you full-force.  Sinus rinse in the morning, afternoon, and night even though the package clearly states not to do that when your sinuses are blocked.  Take ibuprofen during the day so you can't feel the pressure in your face rising so much that your teeth feel like they will pop out of the top of your head.  Get called into a 2-hour meeting when your congestion is at its worst and get questions rapid-fired at you.  Seriously consider not running your marathon, actually going so far as to almost cancelling your hotel reservations.  Complain again to anyone who will listen.  Break down and take NyQuil just so you can sleep.

Thursday: Wake up to find your congestion has magically disappeared.  Wonder suspiciously where it went. Sinus rinse in the morning and at night.  Break down and take some DayQuil during the day.  Realize that you may just be able to run your marathon.  Go home and pack.

Friday: Sinus rinse just because you're in the habit of doing it now.  Get up and realize you have parti-colored stuff coming out of openings in your face-and that this is a good thing.  Write a blog post about your sick experiences this week.  Realize that you will definitely be able to run your marathon, although you may have to spit, hack, and blow your nose for 26.2 miles.

 Now that this whole sickness thing is out of the way, I can focus on my marathon goals.My ideal goal is to run this thing in around 4:10.  If I cross the finish line anywhere near that number I will break down and cry immediately afterwards.  On the flip side, if something happens during the race (i.e., spitting and coughing slow me down), I will be happy with a 4:20.  If things go horribly awry (there is a hill that spans 3 entire miles at the end of the course!), then I will settle for crossing the finish line in an upright position.  Other goals I have include: running the entire thing, not having to stop at a port-a-john, and not having to poop at any time during the race.

Oh, and having fun.  And being able to smile whilst in mile 26 at what I have just accomplished.

Crystal Lake Half Marathon Recap: For the fun of it.

Well, I did it for fun, but also as a marathon-pace practice race.  I do think it sad that I sign up for a half marathon these days without batting an eye.  When I was a newer runner, I used to agonize over every longer-distance race, wondering if I had it in me to finish within a decent time.

Now I'm all like, "Half marathon?  When?  I'm in."  Sick.  Sick and wrong, I know.

I ran this half marathon last year.  I was actually training for another half at the time, but got what's known as "sick" with the sinus infection from Hades and ended up not running it.  This is not because I am a wimp; when you spend the night before a race with a fever and a head that feels like a block of wood and wake up surrounded by more used tissues than bed sheets, I would think you would tend to come down on the side of "I would not like this to develop into pneumonia if I run" rather than "I will (literally) suck it up and run even if it means I will spend the next 3 months in the hospital."

So, rather than run sick and get sicker, I decided to bag that race and sign up for the Crystal Lake Half Marathon two weeks later.  I still wasn't totally well by then (that's how bad this infection was), but I managed a 1:57.  Not my best time, but a steep hill at mile 9 got me and then I ended up doing a run/walk for the final miles of the race.  I was disappointed, but glad I snuck in under 2 hours.

This year, since I am training for a marathon, I decided to use this race as a marathon-race pace race (say that 3 times fast) so I could get a feel for running my projected pace for 13 miles.  I knew that my marathon pace (9:30) would put my time for the half at over 2 hours, but that was alright.  I must keep reminding myself that the goal is to get to my marathon starting line uninjured and well-rested.

Plus, it was kind of nice to run a half and not bust a gut the whole time.

The weather was almost perfect-cool (in the 60s) and cloudy, with the sun staying away for the entire race.  The only thing that sucked was the humidity; at the start of the race it was actually misty/rainy.  I was drenched by mile 4, with my shirt sticking to my gut uncomfortably thereafter.

This guy was stretching in front of my car.  Grey skies everywhere.

Drenched by the end.  Shirt is stuck to my ginormous gut.

Since this was a training run, technically, let's review what I learned about my training at this point (4 weeks from my marathon), shall we?

• I have a tendency to speed up.  I caught myself many times running in the 8:30s.  I had to continually force myself to slow the freak down so I could practice my marathon pace.
• Pacing people is a great way to force yourself to slow the freak down.  Then, after you've gotten in some "rest" behind them, pass them. 
• I passed 5 guys wearing Ragnar Chicago shirts.  This gave me all sorts of warm fuzzy feelings inside.  I counted them as "kills."
• I maintained a pretty even average pace for 10 miles (around 9:15). Good to know I can be consistent.
• This race was a great way to practice my hill strategy.  Twin Cites is going to be hilly, and this race had a few good-sized hills up in there.  I had to focus on slowing down and picking up my feet (along with keeping my feet under me and not overstriding).
• I wore my Brooks Glycerin 11s to see how they would feel for 13 miles.  I think these will be my marathon shoes.
• Only in mile 12 did I start to get winded, but that's because I was trying to book it at an 8:30 straight into 12 mph winds.  I saw someone I knew at that point that was walking, and stopped to chit-chat for a bit.  That reset my lungs and I was able to finish strong.  But still....all that speed work is paying off.  I think I can maintain between a 9:30 and 9:45 for this marathon coming up.
• I wanted to quit and walk several times after mile 10.  But my trick is to think about how tired my legs really are--if, after I do a mental check, realize that they are not all that tired, I find that I can push on.
• I still assume everyone is better than me.  While waiting at the starting line, I kept looking at people and thinking, "They're going to beat me."  I am glad to report that I passed around 70% of those people, mostly in the final miles.

So, how did I do overall?  Check it out:

2:02.  Not bad; not bad at all for someone who was actually trying to run slower than that.  I was expecting between 2:00 and 2:05, so this is dead on for me.  I know that a 9:20 pace is actually faster than I should have run, but at least now I know that I can run at least half of that marathon near my projected pace.

I guess this race wasn't just for training--it was also to give me a little confidence in the pace I have chosen, which it did.  I'll see if it that confidence remains four weeks from now when I'm standing in my starting corral at Twin Cities trying not to ball up on the ground and go fetal.

Garmin, Charge Thyself.

Workouts:

Monday: More barbell time.
Tuesday: 5 mile easy run
Wednesday: Track ladder workout (speed work)
Thursday: 12 mile bike ride in the dark

After my 22 mile run Saturday, my legs were a bit tired.  Not just right after the run, but until...oh....Tuesday.  That track ladder workout was on tap for Tuesday, but after the first 400m interval, I knew my legs wouldn't be able to climb up and down the rest of that ladder.  My quads felt like tight little balls of...quad muscle that didn't want to contract in any running sort of way nope nope nope.

So I bagged the workout.  Having already done a mile in the warm-up, I ran 4 more miles easy, and my legs felt much better the next day; they were ready for some track ladder up-and-down climbing.  While the quads were still a bit sluggish, I managed a pretty decent workout overall:

Yes, yes, I know-I walk my recoveries.  Don't judge me.

I did this workout at around 7:15 PM, so what else is a girl in marathon training to do but get up and cross-train at 5:20 A.M.?  I went for a short but very nice bike ride in the dark while testing out my new bike headlight.  It works pretty well (a Blackburn brand), and it managed to startle a group of deer along my route.  I don't know if you know this, but when a group of deer gets all freaked out, it's a free-for-all of deer afterwards.  Deer were running every which way; I think if they could have defied gravity they also would have run straight into the sky. Or at least into a parallel universe and back.  The looks on their faces were all crazy-wild; it looked like my dog does when she is freaked out by a sound she does not recognize:

But the one thing that pissed me off about all of my workouts this week was this:  I could not remember to charge my Garmin.  It's like the neural pathway containing that memory had been obliterated each night while I slept.  Here's how every morning went this week that I needed my Garmin:

1. Get ready for run or bike ride.
2. Put on watch.
3. Turn on watch and hear the angry BEEEEEP that indicates battery is dead.
4. Swear profusely and scare the dogs.
5. Put Garmin on charger.
6. Hope that 15 minutes on the charger will give me enough juice for my workout.
7. Get enough charge to do the workout.
8. Take off Garmin after workout and forget to put it on charger.
9. Repeat steps #1-8 the next morning.

My only hope at this point is they invent wireless electricity so the watch will charge just by absorbing charged particles found in the air.  Or just put my Garmin on the charger after each and every run and not set it down on the desk facing away from me so that I forget that it is on.

Anyhoo, tomorrow is a tempo run, and then a half marathon this weekend as a pseudo-training run.  Let's hope my quads are fully rested and the Garmin is fully charged for those running events.

Sometimes long runs suck. But you learn a lot.

Yesterday I ran a 22 mile long run.  It's the first true long run I have done in 2 weeks, having done a Ragnar two weekends ago and a duathlon last weekend.

My quads are telling me loud and clear today that they are NOT HAPPY.  Not happy at all.  But I'm sure they'll get over it in 2-3 days.

I actually got up early for that run and got my butt out to my favorite long-run trail (the Long Prairie Trail) by 8 A.M.  The day before had been in the upper 90s temperature-wise, and yesterday was much cooler--it was around 70 degrees when I started, and the sky was cloudy, blocking out any additional heat from the sun.  Even if there had been sun, this trail has tons of shade along the way.  In fact, the first 6 miles or so is all under a big tree canopy that looks like this:

I started off the run heading to the east, planning on going 11 miles out to the trail head in Capron and then coming back.  Those first 11 miles were pretty awesome-there was a slight breeze cooling me off, and the majority of the run was slightly downhill.  As I neared the trail head, I did have to get creative when I encountered some downed trees on the trail from the thunderstorms we had the day before:

Had to use my obstacle course skills to get around this one.

Right after this I encountered some cyclists that had passed me about three times already on the trail.  They stopped and asked me how many miles I was doing, and when I told them 22, I thought they were both going to fall off their bikes.  They wished me luck, and then cycled away from me as fast as possible.  I don't blame, them, really--when I stopped to talk to them I got a good whiff of my stinky running self at that point. I would have run away from myself if it were possible within the known laws of our universe.

Eventually I made it to the trail head, and I was feeling pretty awesome.  Legs were feeling good, and I felt like I could run forever.  I felt even awesomer when I realized I would be able to use a real bathroom located there rather than have to duck and cover in the woods along the trail for once.

Better than going in the woods.

I realized at this point that I was about half a mile shy of 11 miles, but decided to make it up by running past my car a bit when I got to the end of my run.  I started back on the trail (scampering over the downed trees a second time), feeling good and excited to be at the halfway point.  Apparently I was so excited that my legs decided to speed up on me, and I started busting out some close to 10-minute miles (my goal pace for each mile was supposed to be around 10:30).

Yeah.  This became a problem in mile 14.  My increased speed plus the fact that it was getting hotter (and now the wind was at my back) really started to take a toll on me, and I was in full blown wall-hitting mental whining by mile 15.  So I made a deal with myself-make it to Poplar Grove (3 miles away) and I would stop and get some cold water at the small convenience store there.

Those were 3 miles of mental torture.  I tried to force myself to slow down, but my legs were having none of it.  But I didn't stop.  I made it to that convenience store and to some cold refreshing water (I do wear a Camelbak on my runs, but after 3 hours the water gets a tad warm).  I tried to make my stop as brief as possible, lingering only to refill my Camelbak. I took off from Poplar Grove, knowing that I "only" had 4 more miles until I got to my car.

And I thought the 3 miles to get to Poplar Grove were tough.  These last 4 miles were pure mental hell.

It was all I could do to keep moving.  This time I actually did slow down (finally), but my legs felt heavy.  I was hot.  A sharp pain had developed in my left side.  My Camelbak was heavy again with water.  The route this time was mostly uphill. My running skirt was soaked with sweat and felt like a lead apron around my waist.  Any minor annoyance that I normally would have brushed aside became magnified in my mind to a major crisis.

But I kept going.    And finally I saw my car.  Too bad that, when I got there, I still had half a mile to go before I reached the 22-mile mark.  So what did I do?  Run back and forth near my car until I did that half mile.  I could have turned around and gone back down the trail the way I came, but at that point I desperately NEEDED to be near my car.  Turning around and running away from it would have probably caused a mental implosion of epic proportions.  So, I endured weird looks from cyclists and finished up the run by scampering back and forth in the parking lot near my car.

When I was done, I just needed to walk for a bit.  After walking around the parking lot a few times while having my recovery shake, I stopped and stretched out a bit by my car.  As I worked out my calves (which were screaming, by the way), I noticed that my skirt was sweating, leaving drops on the ground.

It was my skirt, I swears.

If you think that picture is bad, you should have seen the ground after I wrung out a corner of my skirt.  Ugh.

Apparently I was so soaked that the hubbs insisted on taking a picture of my sweaty self after I returned home:

You can't see it but I am drenched.  Also, while I didn't think I was dressed too crazily for a long run, apparently some cyclists thought my outfit was pretty entertaining and were openly mocking me as I ran.  From their comments, it seems my colors were a tad too bright for them, and the calf sleeves were a little over the top.  People, people, people--can't we all just get along and wear what we want to wear while torturing ourselves with exercise?

Despite this run having sucked the big one for the last 8 miles, I think that these types of runs teach you a LOT.  They teach you that you really should eat more than a bowl of oatmeal before going on a 22-mile run.  They teach you that you should have parked AT the trail head so you could have a downhill run after you turn around into the cool gentle breeze rather than park further down the trail.  They teach you that you will wear whatever you damn well please on a run and let the cyclists in their monochrome black outfits be the ones who are committing an exercise fashion faux pas.  They teach you to put on more deodorant before you leave so you won't gross yourself out with your own stink.

But, more importantly, they teach you how to get tough and finish what you started.  No matter what happened out there on that trail, the important thing is that I got through the rough stuff and finished the run.