Pineland Farms Trail Running Festival- 5k

Saturday promised to be a beautiful, if warm, day.  Five of us piled into Puma's car to head to Pineland Farms for the Saturday events: 10k, 5k Canicross, 5k, and Barefoot 5k.  We'd have representation in all but the Canicross, a 5k run with your doggie.  Puma, having just come off a 5 day through hike, would be taking the day off and enjoying the festival.

Me, Mrs. Strong, My Runner, and GB (photo by Puma- thx!)

And festival it was!  Tents with food, beer, free-bees, and music were spread out in the grove on campus.  Farmland, mostly hay fields, rolled out around us, inter-spaced with shady wooded areas.  There were dogs a-plenty, some ready to race, some just kickin' around.  Start and finish for all races were in this grove.

Mrs. Strong was participating in the 10k, starting an hour before the other events, and we got her registered and in line just in time.  Thank goodness the race started late!  Since the Muddy Moose where she ran 14 miles for the first time, Mrs. Strong has been running with her neighbor and, while rushed to get started, seemed very confident in her abilities.

Mrs. Strong, putting her sneakers on at the starting line

Shortly after the 10k, the Canicross event started.  I think they wanted all the poochies off the course when the other 5k events begin.  It was fun to see all the different kind of dogs that were running.  From huge labs to tiny terriers, just about every type of dog was represented.  Personalities of the dogs matched the owners, as the elite runners moved to the front, and their competitive dogs barked, jumped, and pranced.

Canicross start.  That little pup almost got hisself CHOMPED.

The 5k start was next.  I'm the only one participating in this, with My Runner and GB both participating in the Barefoot 5k, starting 10 minutes after mine.  This is the first run I've done in 6 weeks.  Other than one hockey game and a couple of workout videos, I haven't moved since April 24th, the day I tore my left ankle to shreds.  My goal was to finish uninjured and see if I would be able to participate in tomorrow's 25k.

::Hugs::

My Runner sees me to the starting line.  I'm nervous, but ready to get out there.  I feel good, despite the MASSIVE hangover I woke up with.  My ankle is in check, and as long as I don't space out, I should be able to run these trails without falling.

I am SO. OUT. OF. SHAPE.  I walked about 30% of the race.  Running alone isn't my favorite, but not many folks were into chatting.  Still, the scenery was pretty, and I was focused on scanning the trail for potential hazards.  The elite runners in the barefoot start passing me just before mile 2, and as the course folds back in on itself I see My Runner and GB.

Waving and smiling, all I could think was, "don't let them catch you."  That motivated me.  That and trying not to get my picture taken while I was walking (fail, see below)

See that ripped dude behind me?  Yeah, he's running.  Not this girl.

Still, they were a bit behind, and I was getting winded.  I "ultra walked" the hills to conserve and catch my breath.  Then I'd walk the flats.... that was an ego blow.  Chatting with another 5ker who was not used to hills helped pass the time, but as more and more Barefooters passed me, and as I got closer to the finish line, I kicked it in gear (not high gear- don't have that one right now... just not neutral).  Finished the race in 34:38.

Mrs. Strong had come in shortly after I started at 1:05:28- an excellent time.  The Barefooters came in 26:09/10, yes, less than 2 minutes behind me.  Was happy to catch this bit of action:

Boys....

In my good days, an 11 minute mile would have made me sad.  Saturday, I was happy to have finished feeling good, and even happier that Smuttynose had sponsored the race, offering unlimited free beer to runners.  I still wasn't sure participating in the 25k was a good idea, but it was at least still an option.

Pineland Farms Trail Running Festival- Preview

This Memorial Day weekend I'm heading up to Maine with a group of friends to camp and participate in the Pineland Farms Trail Running Festival.  I'm scheduled to run a 5k (3.1 mi) on Saturday at a 25k (15.5 mi) on Sunday.  This will be the first time I've run since I re-sprained my ankle on April 24th.  You know, the 5k run that was killing me because I was out of shape?  Yeah, that one.

I know I'm not in shape at all for these runs.  My ankle isn't 100% (best I can tell it's 80-90%, but it hasn't really been tested yet).  I should be able to jog the 5k in 45 minutes, and I have 9 hours to finish the 25k.  You'd have to average 35 minute miles to but up against that deadline.  With my ankle in a brace, I could walk 15.5 miles and finish well under the cutoff time- something I may do.

I'm chomping at the bit to get back to running.  Feeling my body morph from lean and fit to soft over the last few weeks has been pretty demoralizing.  The weather has been beautiful, but I've yet to be able to play outside.  I have plans for long hikes and a few other races this summer, including relaying the VT 50 with my dad, and I'd like to be healthy and ready to take them on.  Healthy, of course, is a combination of being physically fit enough for the challenges and having strength back in my ankle.

So, I will "run" these two races this weekend.  I WILL be careful.  I'm not looking to set speed records here. I'm thinking of it as dipping my toe in the pond, testing the waters.  How will my ankle hold up?  My body?  How sore will I be?  What do I need to focus on when I restart my training?  What type of cross-training will help strengthen my weak spots?

No matter what the results of my "testing" are, this weekend promises to be fun.  A good reminder as we memorialize loved ones that life goes on, and the best way to remember those that are gone is to enjoy our lives to the fullest, as they would have wanted for us.

Seriously? SERIOUSLY?!?!

I did it again.  I broke myself.  Again.

Three weeks ago I rolled my left ankle at the Tuesday Night NHSSC Hockey finals.  It hurt, I had to walk around the track, but I was still able to finish the game.  I gave it a few days, then started taping it and was back to running and hiking.  Last Saturday, the morning of the move, My Runner, Puma Girl, and I ran in a 5K trail run hosted by EMS.  It was hard- I hadn't been training much and boy was I feeling it.  The trail was primarily uphill for the first part of the course, and it was taking the mickey out of me.  I realized I should probably slow down when my tunnel vision prevented me from seeing a root, which I then tripped on and fell flat on the ground.  No worries, brushed my self off and kept going, albeit at a slower pace.

At the top of the hill My Runner was waiting for me.  (Puma Girl was battling her own owies, so she took it slow.)  I was tired, so it was nice to have the company.  The view was beautiful at the top of the hill, and My Runner's chatting with me about training etc.  We were running downhill, and I was starting to feel better.  I had the clarity in my brain to begin thinking about a training schedule, since I have a 25K (15.5mi) trail run coming up at the end of May, not to mention the possibility of pacing My Runner at Massenutten, so I shoul-

::Insert epic fall here::

I don't know if I tripped over anything.  I think my left foot came down on an uneven surface, and I felt the ankle start to roll.  Normally I would have just gone with it and it would have been fine, but since the ankle was already hurt, I then felt the pain of tearing, my ankle rolled further, and I went all the way down, rolling into the brush on the side of the trail.  And of course I was bawling.  I was feeling intense pain, but also rage and frustration.  I knew this was a bad injury.  I wasn't going to be able to walk it off.  

It took a long time to calm down.  The longer the pain was intense, the worse I felt emotionally.  Most people were lovely and expressed concern when they passed.  The Run Director stopped and checked in on me; she was so concerned.  I hiked about a mile out, first on My Runner's shoulder, then on Puma Girl's when she caught up to us and My Runner went to get the car.  

That was last Saturday.  After the sprain, I shopped around EMS for an hour or so (what? they were having a great sale!), iced it on the way to Manch, and MOVED (with the generous help of My Runner, My Parents, and some friends).  I tried to be brave and I tried to help, but I was in a lot of pain the whole day.

It's 6 days later and I'm still in pain.  It's better.  It's healing.  But there's still a good amount of swelling.  I have bruising halfway up my calf and down into my foot.  Unpacking last night left me limping again.  I keep it wrapped most of the time and ice it on and off throughout the day.  Had to bail from a wicked fun sounding 5K this Sunday, and needless to say that training schedule I was working on when I fell has been tabled.  

Most of the time I'm level headed about it.  I realize that there's nothing I can do but do my best to help it heal.  Stay off it as much as possible, don't get back to running or hiking too soon.  Sometimes I get caught in the pit of despair, though.  I start thinking about the events I've committed to, and especially as the weather gets nicer how much I want to be outside running or hiking.  I think of how "behind" I am in training.  I feel my waistline expanding as my caloric burn reduces but my eating habits don't change.  

I fell into the downward spiral this past Monday after watching my team play hockey without me.  My Runner noticed, and quoted me to me: "Don't let something you can't change ruin a perfectly good night."  I hate it when My Runner outsmarts me with... me.  But, at least I still end up being "right."  :-)  I'm trying to heed my advice this time and not get too down about being injured.  It sucks, but why should I let that ruin my life?  It's not forever.

Beaver Brook 5K - Report

.... and the alarm went off soooooooo early......

I looked at my phone and see a text from Pocket - she's not coming. She's worried about injury running on snowy trails, which is understandable since at this moment she doesn't have health insurance. But I'm bummed. "What's up?" My Runner asks as I sigh. "Pocket's out." My Runner, who was waffling on racing since he missed his kittehs, picks up the torch and comes with. I assure him that he doesn't have to, that I'm a big girl and can run on my own, but he ignores my protest. I'm glad - I always prefer company.

It was chilly, but not freezing. We drove down winding roads to the Beaver Brook Reserve in Hollis, passing farms and farmhouses covered in a blanket of snow, sales on Christmas Trees, ribbons of blue woodsmoke drifting up from chimneys, and apple orchards dormant for winter. Sky was a perfect blue with few puffy clouds, the snow was sparkling in the sun. We arrive at the trailhead park, and I grab our numbers, shirts, and goodie bags. The race director and volunteers are friendly and fun. Race Director is up front about goodie bags - he's cleaning his garage. That explains the mix of energy drinks, energy "chews," lube samples, and meat seasoning all in one bucket. The group reminds me of my dad's running group - the focus is fun, socialization, and sharing the sport we love.

My Runner is up-beat, making me laugh, but I am still bumming. I'm tired. We trot up and down the trail a bit, and I decide today is not the day for the added challenge of snow-shoes. A good choice in the end, I think. The run itself was challenging enough.

There were runners of all sorts, mostly there for fun, which was great. A group of girls who could have been in high school or college (I've recently realized I'm too old to tell now), older couples, families with kids and dogs, and a few real "racers." Once we got to the starting line I was beginning to feel better. Looking around at everyone else who had decided to brave the snow made me feel like some sort of wonderful misfit. My Runner gave me a pre-race goodluck kiss, always an ego booster, and we were off.

The start of the trail wasn't too bad. Enough runners and snow-shoers had trotted it that it was packed. About 1/4 mi in, though, it got a little more powdery. This would be my challenge for the rest of the run. Running in powder is much like running in sand, except when I run in sand I've always been barefoot and not racing. Using stabilizer muscles rarely used, unexpected slips, etc. "Light on your feet," My Runner says, trying to help me out. I'm not totally sure what he means, but I reach into my "dance" training and move my center of gravity up from my hips to my chest and hope that helps. I can feel my footfalls changing, but I'm still sliding all over.

"Take shorter steps," he advises. "Don't fight the snow, just go with it." All great advice, but it was hard for me to put it all into action. I couldn't not fight the snow, even with shorter and lighter steps. I was working just as hard to fight off frustration as I was to stay on my feet. Finally I realized I wasn't enjoying what I came out here for - the fun of being outside in the woods on a beautiful winter's day. I couldn't raise my eyes too much off the ground - I slipped worse when I did that - but I adjusted my gaze up a little, keeping my eyes scanning for hazards and trail conditions ahead while still being able to look at and enjoy my surroundings.

It's a pretty area, and I was settling into a stride, and finally starting to enjoy myself. We turned onto another trail and My Runner and I were able to run side-by-side. He's got a big smile on his face and words of encouragement. I'm feeling really good, and starting to overtake some runners. We reach the turnaround - halfway. "Save some gas for the end," he warns, rightly so, since the trail has been all downhill on the way in and will be all uphill on the way out.

Still, I feel like I'm being somewhat conservative. I'm "reeling them in," as My Runner puts it: slowly catching up with folks in front of me and passing them. Move too slow and they get away, move to fast and your line breaks. I'm feeling tired, but good, and I have confidence in finishing.

Then we hit the last, oh, 3/4 mile. Powder. Uphill. ugh. I'm still slipping all over the place, which is frustrating. Slipping while climbing was worse. The more frustrated I get, the tighter my chest gets, the harder time I have breathing. We finish a particularly lengthy climb and I just half to walk. I can feel my breakfast yearning to come back up. I'm so mad at myself for walking I'm catching sobs in my throat, which is NOT helping me recover my breathing. My Runner, who was in front of me setting pace, continues with encouragement. "You can do it! Focus on your breathing. You've got this, we're almost there!"

I shook off the self-loathing and started shuffling my feet. Short steps. Wasn't moving fast, but was running. Focused 4 feet ahead of me, which luckily for me was My Runner's very shapely butt. Anything that keeps ya goin'. :-)

The finish line was in site - at the top of the hill of powder. "Here we go, we're at the end, finish strong!" "Yep, ok." heh... finishing on my feet was about as strong as I could manage. But finish on my feet I did. Crossing the finish line, all I wanted to do was double over - my breakfast still hadn't decided it wasn't coming up. My Runner was all smiles, hugs, kisses. I loved that he was so proud and happy, but I really didn't want to puke on him. He grabbed me some water and hot cocoa, and waited for me to collect myself.

"Twenty-seven thirty-six, hon." What? Really? I didn't even notice there was a clock at the end. 4.5K in 27 minutes and change in the snow. Suddenly I didn't mind feeling like crap - I worked hard, and I made good time. (at posting time official results are not up. boo.)

I think back on the run and I remember the challenge, sure, but in a positive light. I remember the snow-smiley face someone had put on a tree that made me laugh. I remember the guy running with a beagle that so wanted to hang out with My Runner that he slowed the guy down, and the man with the beautiful Newfie watching and encouraging runners. The way the snow started flying when the snow-shoers started the race. I went from feeling like crap to feeling awesome, the sense of accomplishment and shared experience buoyed my spirit.

Before the end of this month I have to decide how dedicated I am. I'm registering for an 8K in VA Beach, and I have to decide if I'm going to try for the half-marathon the next day. I have a training program, I know my body is physically capable of completing a 13 mile run once conditioned. I'm just ... nervous. I've done two 5K's, and now I'm gonna train for a half-marathon? I'm worried I'm over extending myself. But maybe the challenge is what I need to get me there.

I still have two weeks to decide.

Shamrock Marathon: http://www.shamrockmarathon.com/site3.aspx

Feaster Five - Results

31:18, 10:05 minute miles

9000+ participants

Feaster 5, Andover, MA
Thanksgiving Day, 2009

My alarm went off at 6:25am. And again at 6:31. And again at 6:37, which is when I finally sat up and started putting on my clothes. My Runner mumbled, groaned, and turned over, a kitteh coming into the room to take my recently vacated warm spot. As I sat up my head felt like it was gonna fall off. Normally I don't have hangovers, but between the small amount of water I had the night before and the approximately 3 hours of sleep, I was, as Auntie Mame would say, "indisposed." I was excited for my race, no doubt, but I silently cursed Pocket Sized in that moment for picking the Feaster Five; not only did it start at an early 8:30am but it was 68 miles away. After a few more smooches and a promise to call him with my results, I pulled myself away from My Runner's warm embrace and headed down the interstate.

Pocket and I had spoken the previous night about meeting at her house in Nash and travelling together to Andover. The trip from her house to Andover normally takes about 30 minutes, but with race traffic, parking, getting to the start line, etc., we figured we would leave her house about 7:30. I was running pretty much on time coming from EBF where Runner lives, thanks to the minimal traffic on Thanksgiving morning and my little car being able to get up to 80-85mph. But I left My Runner's house without coffee (he doesn't drink it - can you believe?) or breakfast, so I desperately needed both. It was 7:30 exactly as I got off the exit to Pocket's house, and stopped by the Dunk's in the Shell station which was about the only place I saw open that morning.

While I was inside I got a phone call from Pocket. She was nervous, upset, thinking I had headed straight down to Andover. Since I was less than 3 minutes from her house when I got the message, I decided not to return her call. She seemed a little relieved when I got there, but it was 7:42, we were a little behind schedule, and really needed to get going. I had never done this before, she is sort of naturally cranky at that time of morning (sorry, Pocket, but you are - it's the theatre in you), so we both were agitated as we got into her car and headed to MA.

We pulled off the highway into Andover at 8:05 - good timing. As we're heading down the off ramp we both exclaim as we see cars PARKED ON THE GRASS ON THE OFF RAMP. Seriously. Pocket asks, "Should I just... park here?" and I'm all for it. Her little Saturn takes the granite curb admirably, she centers the car on the curve of the ramp as best she can, and we're ready to head. She's dressed in running tights, with a tech shirt from a recent race and a sport coat from Ann Taylor that looks both comfortable and fashionable. I'm mis-matched in my navy yoga pants, black VT50 shirt earned from crewing (yeah, I mixed black and navy, what of it?), and olive green random long-sleeved shirt from Target. She looks like a runner. I look like a slob. See:

Pocket Sized is the only thing keeping this photo from peopleofwalmart.com

I swear I did not mean to have my shirt up so you could see my mis-match-y-ness. I did not intend to hunch over so you had no idea that I'm almost half a foot taller than Pocket. This is pre-race and I admittedly look like hell, though I was feeling pretty good. The ibuprofen, coffee, and third of a bagel helped the hangover, and the nerves were there, but harnessable.

As we headed to the starting line we couldn't help but notice the crowd. We knew it was a big race - the website had said over 8,000 people participated last year, and Sherpa had also mentioned the crowds when I told him what race I was running. But nothing - NOTHING - prepared me for what I saw. A SEA of people. The stats at the top of this post indicate that over 9,000 people ran, plus spectators. o. m. g.

We worked our way up near the pacing block for 10 minute milers - the approximate pace we had been running while training. We were still in the back third of the crowd, though, and unable to get farther up. Once the race officially started, it took us at least 5 minutes to get past the starting line, and even then it was like being on the treadmill as it worked it's way from half a mile an hour to you desired pace. Running with that many other people was like driving in commuter rush hour traffic. We were constantly dodging people who were slower, trying to stay out of the way of faster people, folks would abruptly stop in front of us, or "change lanes" and cut us off.

I was running the 5K, but Pocket was running the 5 mile. Both paths started together, so for a bit we chatted about the craziness of the amount of people and strategized moving around them, commented on the silly things we saw some folks wearing, and coo'ed over babies in cute outfits. The courses ran together for the first mile of the race, which included the first "big" hill up Main St. in Andover. It was long, but we adjusted our strides, kept our arms pumping, and made it through. I was proud of both of us. Huffing a little, I still was in good spirits as we topped the hill, but sad to part ways with Pocket. She had her ipod to keep her company, but I had left mine in my car. It turned out not to be a bad decision for me - I was grateful.

As we parted ways I was able to take in my surroundings a little better. There were so, no SO... no SOOOOO many people. It was incredibly crowded. I spent a lot of my time passing or dodging or just people watching. All ages were running - two girls who couldn't have been more than 9 running as comfortable as-could-be well into the second mile, chatting away so much like me and Pocket that I had a glimpse into their future. An older man passed me, grunting with every breath he took. He sounded like he was being tortured. Moms and Dads encouraging their kids, or alternatively asking them if they needed to walk (that burned me - don't underestimate them! They'll walk when they need to!). Folks running alone with their music in their ears, other folks with friends.

The race pretty much took over the town of Andover. Entire roads were closed. People were spectating all along the race course, which was great. I didn't hear a lot of cheering, which made me a little sad, but knowing that people were watching kept me from walking. When I did hear cheering, I made sure to make eye contact, and if I could, thank them. I remember what it was like cheering - kinda boring and repetitive - but now that I was on the other end I appreciated it sooo much.

The 5 mile course re-joined the 5K course a couple of times, though the race coordinators tried to keep them in separate lanes. It seemed like they assumed the 5 milers were the "more serious" racers and would be running at a faster pace than the 5K'ers. Which, for the most part, was true, but I must say I weaved into the 5 miler lane to pass many, many people running the 5K. I always checked behind me - I wouldn't want to impede anyone trying to get a good time, but the 5K lane had so many people running (or walking) so slowly that it was hard to get through.

There was a clock at the 2 mile mark - the time was 25 minutes when I passed it. I was a little bummed... I had been running 10 minute miles in training, and while I expected to be a little slower because of the hills and the dodging, I didn't expect to add 2.5 minutes to my mile! It was then I realized that the clock had started with the start gun, not when *I* crossed the start line. I had no watch, no ipod, no way of keeping my own time or of knowing how far I'd come or how much I had left. All I had was running.

It was then that I really started to enjoy running. I had nothing to track my time or distance, so I had nothing to think about but my body running. And honestly I can say that this was the first time I truly enjoyed it. I felt great. I relaxed into my body, which fell into its pace. I looked at the houses and woods and roads around me. I let my breathing happen as needed. I felt the ground beneath my feet, the air around me, and the sky above me. I was surrounded by people but my experience was singular.

This feeling stayed with me for the rest of the race. It was interrupted only twice - once when two 5milers passed me shortly after the 2 mile mark, one saying, "Home stretch, buddy," which I figured then and now know to be COMPLETELY untrue (how dare he trick my brain into thinking it might be time for naps!), and again when the same girl passed me twice only to stop abruptly and walk right in front of me. Both times.

We were approaching Main St. again, so I knew we were actually on the final stretch now. We were headed up hill, but it was a pretty gradual grade, and I so had to pee and was so excited to cross the finish that I barely noticed. A theatre colleague who also ran the race commented on the "final hill" on my facebook page, and honestly I had to think long and hard to figure out what he was talking about. I never noticed it was hard - I was too busy being excited. It wasn't easy, but it certainly wasn't hard, and here I was, finishing my first 5K. 3.1 miles, on the ground, mostly by myself, running the whole way, no walking, no whining, no crying, no pouting, just running. And kinda liking it.

I crossed the finish line at 36:20. I was pretty happy with that time, then remembered that it took use time to cross the finish and was excited - maybe I even did this in under 30 minutes!! But whatever - TIME TO PEE screamed my body. Waiting in line for the port-a-johns, I felt a tap on the shoulder and heard a "Hey!!"

It was D! She had mentioned weeks ago that she might run the Feaster, but we never re-connected. Here she was! We hugged, discussed the race, congratulated each other. D is A Runner, in the way that I want to be. She's done marathons, she runs, but she's not some crazy chick who runs 8 million miles a week and only eats whole grains and protein shakes. She's lovely and fun and I hope to run with her soon. It was great to see her there! We wished each other a happy Thanksgiving, she went to get her pie and I went to pee.

After gathering my pie and complementary post-race snacks and water, I went back to the finish line to wait for Pocket. I knew she averaged a 10-minute mile, but I had a feeling that she was going to run faster than that today. Even though she hadn't had time to do much running this week, I just knew that the competitive spirit of the race would infuse her and make her pick up her pace. I was right - she came across the finish line at 52:01 - less than 15 minutes after me even though she had run 2 miles further. Hugging, pie, snacks, etc., we headed back to the car.

Celebratory photos with our pie:

I definitely had some post-race euphoria. Called My Runner, as I said I would. It was nice to hear him say he was proud of me. But it was great to say that I had achieved my goals - I finished, and I had run the whole thing. I was happy with my time, even though I didn't know it exactly. And I had fun. I couldn't believe it, but I actually had fun. I had been looking at another 5K in NH - a trail run in Hollis, but didn't want to commit until I had actually run the first race I signed up for. Now I knew I was kinda hooked, and convinced Pocket to sign up with me (though it's in December and she won't run if it's too cold... anyone want to contribute advice about cold-weather running gear?)

So..... that's the VERY long story about my kinda short run. But it will always be my first race, and I will always be happy about it. I had a great experience with Pocket, and I learned a lot about myself. I've done a lot of things I never thought I could do, but I've rarely done things I never thought I *would* do... and even more rarely have I decided that I was previously WRONG in my thinking. There's probably some message about how this has made me a stronger person, blah blah blah, and maybe it has, but...

Wow... maybe it has...

Thanks, Pocket, for helping me along this journey.

Feaster Five - the Prequel

Last night was the very first time I've run 3.5 miles.

This is important because tomorrow is the first time I'll be in a 5K (3.1 mile) race.

I'm nervous and excited. And nervous. And excited. And we get pie, so that's fun. :-)

The hardest part of training recently has been getting my brain wrapped around the concept of running for more than 20 minutes. Actually, that's been the hardest part of training overall (other than recovering from the flu). My legs can do it, my lungs can do it, my brain is already in the other room stretching and thinking about a snack.

Last night I set a time goal rather than a distance goal and worked on some mental games. I figured I was running about three songs per mile. That really helped me visualize how long I'd be running for. I also used mental pictures to keep me interested in the run, since running on the treadmill is BO-RING! Images from watching others run, hikes I've been on, some of my out door practice runs, running behind My Oh-So-Hot Runner were some of the best.

It was not easy, but it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. The mental games really helped. This morning I was a little sore, but I didn't stretch for as long as I usually do since I stepped off the treadmill at 9:45pm (see previous post about over-commitments...) All in all, I'm happy with where my body is and hopeful that I'll have a fun time with Pocket Size at the race tomorrow.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Off the Wagon

Thursday I rescheduled my run to Friday so I could buy shoes. Friday became socially packed, with two things to do right after work, plus meetings all day. Despite that, I attempted to run during my "lunch" break. I ran for a little more than three quarters of a mile on the treadmill and my feet were hurting too much. Saturday I had trapeze class and a date with Seacoast Writer while she was sequestered inland for a few hours. Sunday hockey practice was at a reasonable 11am, but still got there late, then headed up to My Runner's house for laundry, projects involving PVC piping, smoked pork, and snuggles.

Notice the almost complete lack of running in there? Yeah, I did too. I bet my body does too.

The plan is to get 2.5 in today on the treadmill at lunch. I hate running at lunch - the locker room at the gym is 8,000 degrees, so I'm never NOT sweaty (dear gyms - AC in the locker rooms is a good thing), plus I've eaten either right before or will be eating after so I'm never really in a good place food-wise. But tonight I'm going to see Minni-McL's Improv show in Boston right after work, soo....

I've always had a difficult time balancing my social engagements and my commitments. Apparently my training commitment is no different. Maybe I'll just have to get used to lunch time running.

5K Training - The Real Challenge

Got hit with Whooping Cough or some other quaint disease this week which effectively put me out of commission. I stayed home from work most of the week, only going in on Wednesday, Veteran's Day, when no one else in the office would be around for me to infect (or to bug me. I was very productive that day). It also barred me from what was supposed to be my 20 minute run on Wednesday. Having a hard time dealing with inactivity on such a tight schedule, I volunteered to play goalie for the boys at Hood Park. It was fun, got a few new bruises and used shoulder and calf muscles I didn't know I had, but standing in the 40*(+/-) weather for an hour, damp through with sweat, after my shift probably did me in. My cough turned into a hack, my body ached from my toes to my scalp, and not moving made me soooo happy.

After recouping all day Thursday and most of the day Friday, I went for my scheduled run on Friday night with My Runner. I had planned on doing Wednesday's "timed" run of 20 minutes, rather than pushing through to Friday's "distance" run of 2.5 miles, since it would be an increase of 0.5 miles and it had been 4 days without running AND being sick. My Runner had different ideas.

We ran a loop in his neighborhood, which is maybe a bit South of EBF, NH. Mostly dirt roads, definitely no sidewalks or street lamps. I was having a tough time. It took a while for my body to loosen up after 3 days of bed rest. Once that happened, I realized how bad my lungs really were still. I hadn't been breathing deeply, except for coughing, since Monday. My esophagus was a little ravaged. The air was chill and dry, not helping me stay comfortable. Still, the 5:30pm traffic zipping down the country lane kept me thinking about things other than my legs and my lungs, namely staying alive.

(ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin' alive, stayin' alive.)

((you know you were thinking it.))

(((incedentally, i love that this is the song you're supposed to sing to accurately time out chest compressions when giving cpr. well, this song or "another one bites the dust," depending on how morbid your inner radio is.)))

This was the first run I've done with significant hills. I'm glad for it - it's something I know I'll need to work on, and it was good to get My Runner's advice on how to handle pacing adjustments for the uphills. I was completely winded when we got back to the house, but happy that I ran the whole thing, later confirmed to be 2.4 miles - longer than I've run in one go yet.

It's funny how different things can encourage you to move forward on different days. Sometimes I just need my running partner to talk to me - when Pocket and I went running last weekend, I barely noticed the time as we chatted and caught up about boys and jobs and such. When I ran with her today (another 2.4 mile loop, this time in her neighborhood on pavement), it was all I could do to take a small part in the conversation. I love listening to My Runner tell stories about other runs he's been on, or about something stupid that happened at work. Flirting with him keeps me moving forward too, though that's usually a whole different kind of motivation... When I'm running on my own, only certain songs will do, keeping my body fluid and ready to move, beat driving me on.

The hardest part is how easily I can get broken down. My Runner likes to ask, "how are you feeling?" That question forces me to examine my body in the middle of the run. When I do my mental self-exam and feel my calves aching and my hip flexor getting touchy and my lungs raking air in and my face hot and dry.... Knowing I feel like crap is hard. SAYING I feel like crap makes it real and all of a sudden I want to stop. Running in Pocket's neighborhood I was familiar enough with the terrain to know exactly HOW FAR until we got back to her house, and HOW BAD I wanted to stop running. I didn't, but convincing my mind to keep running was just as hard as convincing my body.

It's mental. I mean, I am recovering AND pushing, so it's physically hard, but I know my body is completely capable of running 2.5 miles. But feeling like I want to, being aware of that carrot dangling in front of my face, finding a way to adjust my pace, cadence, etc., to deal with the little aches and pains, THAT'S the challenge that I'm facing now. These last two runs were hard, physically, yes. But they were HARD. Mentally. I'm not just training my body for this run, I'm training my mind.

Next Training Run: Tuesday, on my own, 25 minutes. Goal: Time & Hills

This is NOT a running blog.... I promise....

...but I do have to say that last night I actually really registered for the Feaster Five. This is it. I'm really doing it now.

oh god... i'm really doing this.....

5K Training - Pavement

Lastnight was my 15 minute run. (Well, ok, I've run longer on a treadmill, but that's like running in a hamster wheel.) I have yet to figure out how far I went - I suspect it will be close to 1.5 miles. (ed.- it was 1.6 miles, actually) I ran from my office in a Millyard that has been converted to office and storefront space, so there is always a lot of light and there are a lot of people around at that time. Now that it's mostly dark when I get out of work at 4:30, I'm a little nervous to run by myself in Manch, especially in my neighborhood. I used the tricks I learned from living in NYC - stay where it's light and there's a lot of foot traffic.

I don't own a watch, so I created a playlist on my ipod that was 18 minutes long (extra time for warm up and cool down walk) to time my run. It worked pretty well. And, while it wasn't *easy*, the run wasn't hard either. The problem with being by the riverfront at the Millyard is that there's no hills - just a few slight inclines.

I hope to be able to drive the course in Andover before long so I can see what the terrain is like and be sure I'm preparing correctly for it.

Next training run: Saturday, with Pocket Size. Goal: 1.5 miles

5K Training - Setting the Schedule

Yesterday and today I worked on actually plotting a training schedule to get ready for the 5K. Apparently, 5 weeks is what is reccomended. Whoops.

Pocket Sized and I compared dates and came up with a few days to run together before the race. That was a start. I let My Runner do some legwork and he found the following resources which I leaned on:

http://www.runnersworld.com/article/0,7120,s6-380-381--11944-0,00.html

http://www.runnersworld.com/images/cma/beginner5k_table.jpg

http://www.runnersworld.com/article/0,7120,s6-380-381--11940-2-1-2,00.html

There's a TON of resources for training for a 5K. Couch-to-5K programs are everywhere, and they're all basically the same. They include a lot of run, then walk, then run. And most of them take 5 weeks or more. But I've got 3.

So I took the table from the middle link and adapted it. I'm running just about every other day, sometimes with an extra day. Here's the plan:

11/2 - 1.25mi (yeah, that was yesterday - ran before hockey. Hockey running doesn't count towards this plan.)

11/4 - run 15 min

11/7 - run 1.5mi

11/9 - run 20 min

11/11 - run 20 min

11/13 - run 2.0 mi

11/15 - run 25min

11/17 - run 25 min

11/19 - run 2.5mi

11/22 - run 30 min

11/24 - run 3mi

11/26 - run 5K race

I really like the combination of timed runs vs. mileage runs. I've been so focused on distance lately that running for a time will be a good mental change. I hope to maintain about a 10- or 11-minute mile pace, though 10 would be ideal.

Looking at this schedule, having days off is frustrating, but I know I need them to let my body rest. I'd like another week - maybe another couple of 3 mile runs before I do the 5K. But as it is I'm increasing my distance a little on the fast side. I'm going to have to really commit to doing warm up/cool down and stretching to make sure I don't injure myself. I'm also still playing hockey and I've got my next trapeze class near the end of this training.

I'm pretty confident I can do this. Whelp... I'm doing the race. I'll finish it. One way or another. Hopefully on my feet. :-)

5K Training - Running in the Rain

I'm training for my first 5K race scheduled for Thanksgiving morning. This is my first "training" run - previously I had been running just to run, or to warm up for hockey. For my first "training," I had planned to run two miles last night. Then, well, maybe 1.5. I barely made it 1.

It was POURING yesterday. I wanted to have the experience of running in adverse conditions. Of course I have no "gear" for running in the rain - just a gortex rain jacket (thanks, Smarty Pants!) and, well, clothes. My Runner has all this stuff - spandex underarmor, arm bands, tech shirt... I have yoga pants and a long-sleeved tee from Old Navy.

All day I had been ready to run. I was psyched about signing up for the 5K with Pocket Size, and she and I had made a schedule to run together before the race. I'm working on a training schedule - there's a lot of "couch to 5K" type programs that are easy to adapt. All my planning is based on the thought that I could go at least 1.5 miles on this run.

Even when the day turned as dark as night and the rain was coming down in sheets, I was ready to go. I was excited to get wet. It felt hardcore to run in the rain. Like, maybe now that I'm a jock, I can *also* be a runner. My Runner asked me, "You sure you want to run?" about eight times while we were getting ready. YES. I want to run.

We drive to the park where we usually run, but it's so dark the thought of running through the woods is kinda scary. Even though it's wetter, we decide to use the track. This was bad choice number two (bad choice number one happened earlier, but I didn't know it yet). There are three guys working on speed - THEY are hardcore. I am an amateur. But I'm ready to run. I'm excited to be here. We start running as we approach the track. About 50 yards in, it hits me: I don't wanna run.

My body is more than complaining, it's fighting me. Every muscle that I use to run is bitching that it has the day off. It starts cajoling me - just walk, it says. We don't mind moving, but not running, please, anything but that!!

I slow my pace, but I keep going. My Runner has upped the positive energy to help me through it. "How do you feel?" he asks a few times. "Fine." (Subtext - I don't want to think about how I'm feeling, I just want to finish and get it over with.) The rain isn't bothering me. The cold is there, but not with a mission, not with a vengeance. I just don't want to be running.

I know 1.5 won't happen. But I can't run less than a mile. I won't walk - I know this is something my body CAN do, and I know I'm not going to hurt myself running a mile. Besides, I'm here, I'm wet, and I've dragged another person with me. I tell myself these things over and over. I think about Sherpa and the fact that he did this for THIRTY SIX HOURS and I'll be done in less than 15 minutes.

Why is my body rebelling? I played hockey on Monday, ran a mile before that on the track with no problem. I didn't even drink the night before. I ate lunch at.... oh. There it is. The last thing I ate was a banana at 2:30pm, more than 3 hours ago. Mistake number one has reared it's ugly head.

I can't not eat. Well, I can, but it turns me into Mr. Hyde. My blood sugar levels completely affect me emotionally and physically. I've made this mistake before - most recently at a hockey practice where I became dizzy and sick after playing a hard 15 -20 minutes of 3 on 3. Now I carry the granola bars Mop bought me that night in my hockey bag - half of one will stave off any issues without filling me so much I don't want to move around. Tonight I have learned that lesson again.

We complete the mile. I have a little pang in my side and a pit in my stomach a mile wide. Smells from The Puritan Restaurant are driving me wild. When we get back in the car, my brain shuts off and I'm floating through the world. I need to get food now.

Home's not too far, food's heating up less than 10 minutes after leaving the park. I wolf down the fabulous smoked beef and local veggies My Runner cooked up and brought over, washing it down with a Gold Lager from Soudt's, I make my third mistake: food overkill. I stressed my body by exercising with no fuel, and it was not interested in the high octane it was getting. I kept eating, knowing that I needed it, but I was not feeling good, and it was all I could do to keep my brain on the conversation My Runner and I were having. Even then, I'm not sure I was all that successful.

So - lessons learned: 1. Set appropriate goals. 2. EAT, fool! 3. If you break a rule, don't overdue the fix.

Next training run: Friday. Plan: 1 mi, + up to .5 if I'm feeling it. Goal: distance.