This blog is for any runner who loves zombies and pugs as much as I do. If you don't care for either of those things, then stay anyway while I complain about how hilly running in PA is - seriously, I can't go a mile without an incline.
The 5 mile trail loop at LakeRedman yesterday actually proved to be a very satisfying and mentally invigorating run. I was weary of trail running since my last endeavor, but when you actually take enough water and wear appropriate shoes, running on a trail is pretty enjoyable. We woke up around 5:30 a.m. so we could be on the trail by 6:15 and not subject to unbearable humidity during the run. The loop was challenging with little opportunity to simply “coast along”, and I’m still struggling to regain all the fitness I lost after plantar fasciitis sidelined me for months. I briefly considered taking pictures of myself on the path to post on here, but then I remembered that I hate pictures of myself so that didn’t really pan out. You’ll just have to mentally picture the looming trees, a serene lake, and an out of breath girl feigning an unnatural interest in rocks on an incline while hikers passed her.
My two biggest obstacles with this trail run were the varying elevation and difficult terrain. The translation: my two biggest obstacles with this trail run were the ungodly amounts of steep inclines and the crazy narrow footpaths up these majestic inclines. The Alabaster Runner has a really annoying tendency to omit elevation stats for any runs that he plans, which has consistently resulted in the most bitching hill work possible. I don’t know if he does this on purpose since I haven’t fully professed my love for all things hilly, but after the second or third never-ending incline on this trail – I announced (to no one in particular) that his running mapping privileges would be revoked. At one point he tried to assure me that an incline was coming to an end and I muttered back something like, “well it has to - only Mount Everest would continue going at this point”. I need to curb my attitude on hills, it’s a 12 step program.
With that in mind, I have to bow down to the veteran trail runners out there because running with uprooted stems, skinny paths, and jagged rocks is no joke. I kept my eyes intensely focused on the ground, just waiting for the tree root that would trip me, break my fragile femur bone, and end what some would call the greatest running career of all time.We started our run early enough that we only came across two other runners coming from the other side and after we all passed one other, I got to thinking about how trail races even feasibly exist. There were spots on that run that were so mind boggling narrow an Olsen twin would have to suck it in to get by; how are there races solely on trails where passing someone isn’t tempting death? I need enlightenment.
Being off the road and covered by shade was a delightful change from running on pavement with nothing between me and the sweltering rays of the sun. For the last .5 mile we ran directly beside the lake with an unobstructed view of the water, completely peaceful and definitely worth the inclines. I think we are both in agreement that we want to work in more trail runs into our regiment since we have access to some beautiful parks. The A.R. even said that after the run he felt more energized and alive than he had felt in awhile – exactly 45 minutes later he tried to go back to bed. That’s my superstar!
I don't like to talk about the worst effing run of my extensive two year running life, but since nobody asked here I go:
Short Version - C & O Canal, December 2010
The Alabaster Runner and I were visiting his father and brother in West Virgina before Christmas and smack in the midst of intense marathon training, so we decided to have our scheduled 18 mile long run on the C & O Canal early one morning. We packed our energy bars, water, Garmin, and headed off into the bone chilling temperatures that actually froze my water bottle several miles into the run. The run was doomed from the start, the trail was icy (I didn't even know dirt could be icy, what a delightful treat!), rocks were everywhere (we both were wearing Vibram bikilas), and the Alabaster was in a foul mood because we severly underestimed how much water two people needed on an 18 mile training run. After about 10 miles of this incredibly fun run, our legs felt like lead and it was a struggle to not fight over the last remaining drops of water. (If I'm recalling events correctly, I'm pretty sure this run led to our first sincere irritation with each other as newlyweds - that says a lot).
Because of the above reasons, we turned back early in the run and cut it down to a 16 miler - although we still had to walk an additional two miles back to his dad's house in the bitter cold. I still refer to this horrific experience as "the run where I lost my faith in God" only to have my belief system restored when I discovered freshly brewed coffee back at the house.
I bring this story up now because I have my first trail run since that experience scheduled for tomorrow morning. Granted it's only a five mile run with significantly warmer temperatures, but I'm still trying not to wet myself at the thought of another trail run. Trail runs aren't always so damaging to someone's pysche right?
As peaceful at winter trail running looks, it was comparable to hell on earth.
To further drain my bank account this month on running related items, I signed up for HARRC 7 km race at 7 p.m. on August 26th in Harrisburg. Odd distances like 7 km always get my attention because I relish getting a new PR without any real exertion on my part. I’m praying that a 7 p.m. race is on the cooler end of the day because the past few days of running have been dreadful. The heat has been zapping my energy, leaving me mentally and physically drained during the runs. And not that good kind of “wow, I just completed a 15 mile run with hills” drained – more like the “its so godd*** hot out here I would subject myself to a Ryan Reynolds movie just for a cool breeze” drained.
I commented to the Alabaster Runner that I’ll be happy once this insufferable heat spell is over – only to realize a moment later that this “heat spell” is actually more commonly referred to as summer and lasts for another two months. On a purely vain note, this summer is also causing some epidemic tanning issues from running; I don’t even where to begin on fixing criss-crossed tan lines. With no other options available, I’m forced to gut it out in the sun’s rays and continue taking cold showers like an athletic-ish psychopath (I vaguely remembering reading that only the most insane murderous people take cold showers, but my base of knowledge is US Magazine so I might be slightly off).
The only one taking the brunt of the heat worse than me is my poor double coated pug, Hershey. We took all the dogs out for a 10 minute walk yesterday and Hershey decided halfway through that she just would rather live in the cornfields than walk another step in this arduous journey. She plopped down on the soil and gave me huge pug eyes that read, “screw you and your exercise, this is clearly a solid case of animal abuse”.
It’s hot. It’s sticky. And to quote a great line from a movie whose title I can’t remember and don’t care enough to research – “we must be a mile from the sun”. Take it easy on your runs everyone, unless you live somewhere significantly cooler – in which case, I need to visit you immediately.
When I started running 18 months ago, it was on the treadmill at the gym and I absolutely required music to keep me entertained while staring down at gym rats (treadmills are on a second floor balcony over looking the ground level – which made it delightfully easy to people watch). My ipod was chuck-full of dance, current pop and country, and some random Jewish rabbi beats thrown in (Matiyshu – “Thunder”). Looking back on the first few months of running at the gym with music, it was not a pleasure trip; undoubtedly due more to the fact that I grew restless on the treadmill. I can only take so much running without scenery before my brain demands a squirrel or evil cat in a cornfield. Regardless, once I switched to running outside I never took my ipod with me and have run in silence ever since.
While I was cleaning out my car the other day (something had to die in there – it smells too wretched for anything to still be alive) I found my ipod and erased all my old songs and completely revamped my selections with 130 new songs. More excited than I ought to be out the situation, I wanted to try out my new music on my run this morning so I headed out today with music for the first time.
It was awesome.
I enjoyed Sugarland on the first loop, Mumford & Sons on the down hill, Rihanna on some flat stretches, and Chase & Status (feat. Liam Bailey) “Blind Faith” which has to be the best up hill song if I ever heard one. My usual 5.15 route felt significantly easier and I was positive that I was just freaking flying – though I checked my Garmin after the run and it pegged me at the same speed I usually complete the route in (unrelated note: my Garmin must be broken).
I kept the music low enough to hear if any oncoming SUVs were barreling towards me (they were suspiciously absent today) and I loved lip syncing along with the songs at with no one around. The only issue I had was the absence of an appropriate armband, so I had to settle with putting the ipod on the inside of my pants – which of course resulted in the ipod slipping down further into my pants over and over again until I eventually just held the damn thing. The run ended going uphill with my fastest speed during the route and I felt fantastic.
So now I’m utterly confused. I sort of prided myself on not running with music and I still don’t want to run races with music, no matter the distance – what’s the compromise then? Should I run half my runs with music? I don’t want to become dependent on needing music to run, it’s just a nice addition to some of my runs. Thoughts?
If you talk with the Alabaster Runner (I don't know how though - for reasons completely uknown, he completely shot down the idea of posting his cell phone number on here.....loser) he will confirm that I always secretly wanted to have a black toenail from running as some sort of "running badge" from the sport. It seemed to me that getting a black toenail from completing higher mileage was a rite of passage into "real" running, much like taking your first unexpected #2 on a long run behind a bush (I had a look out, but much more than that I wish I had brought toilet paper), or hitting 20 miles on a training run finally without dying on the side of a road somewhere. I briefly thought I was getting a black toenail during marathon training, but turns out I just need to be more diligent when wearing shower slippers at the gym locker room.
However, when looking up running injuries and coming across this image (warning - graphic) my oddball fantasy has completely dissipated and shriveled up into repulsion.
I mean.....is that normal for a runner's black toe or does this individual need to immediately confess all his sins and pray for swift death? I think I may have dodged a bullet here.
I live outside the city of York, Pennsylvania in Hallam so I consider myself pretty fortunate to run mostly back country roads with minimal traffic and stunning views. The biggest advantage as an animal lover is that I get to see donkeys, horses, deer, cows, skunks, and birds of every color in the Spring/Summer, so no matter which way I run – I typically come across some animal that looks cute from afar (eh….maybe not so much the skunks, still trying to find their redeeming quality).
When I managed to crawl out of bed yesterday at , I was pretty pumped to run because the weather was gorgeous and I need time away from my beloved pug, who kept me up all night whining about only god knows what. I decided to run a 4.5 mile loop that is pretty hilly but doesn’t include any repeats so time seems to go a little faster on that route. The run itself was a little more difficult than anticipated – I was never able to quite catch my breath and the entire effort was far more labored than it should have been. However, my lack of appropriate breathing skills isn’t the point of the post (I'll save the gem of post for another day); when I was running I saw a small black kitten with intense green eyes staring at me from the cornfields. Its fur was as close to in coloring as you could get and the kitten stared at me as I contemplated cat-napping him because he was so freaking adorable. I’m certain he models for CatFancy on his days off from randomly sitting in cornfields.
I slowed down passing him (slowing down from a 10+ m/m is pretty much walking I believe) and made that sound that cats actually pay attention to – the “pshhh pshhh” noise to signal to him that I’m clearly an awesome individual with only good intentions to adopt him and build him a little kitten castle. The motive wasn’t to pick him up or anything, just to get a better look – but this kitten quickly decided that not only was I out of shape (cats judge), but also that I wasn’t worth his time. He raised his paw to show me he meant business with sharp claws, and then proceeded to hiss at me twice until I moved on.
I’ve gotten the same reaction in the past when I tried to make friends with the horses and baby cows on my running routes (minus the sharp claws or else those would have been some some scary ass mutant horses and cows). Apparently my farm yard neighbors aren’t enthused that I’m running past their domain and want to eat their crappy grass in peace.
So I have decided to discontinue my foreign species peace efforts while I run and concentrate my animal affections on those that appreciate it – our pug, beagle, and boxer that eagerly wag their tails when they see me come back from a run all sweaty and gross looking. Besides, I’ve finally come to the conclusion that everyone else came to seemingly decades ago…..cats are jerkoffs.
Without much forethought, me and the Alabaster Runner have signed up for the Spartan Sprint in Palmerton, PA on September 10th, 2011. We've done quite a few mud/obstacle runs, but something utterly disturbing about their websites' race description makes me think I might want to actually train for this event.
Just for good measure I'm throwing in more tricep exercises this summer.
After almost 28 years on this green earth, I’m pretty secure with acceptable social standards of conduct – I say “God bless you” when someone sneezes and I don’t make a big deal if a coworker passes deadly gas in the same room. I silently die inside, but I don’t purchase a coffin.
However, there seems to be an entirely different code of social standards for runners – some are obvious and others must be dealt with on less secure footing. Whether you are a new runner or veteran, it is common sense to politely pass someone slower than you and not barrel past them. And if a runner is clearly struggling on the last leg of a marathon, you are supposed to shout out, “You’re doing good! Keep it up, only a few more miles to go, you can do it!” – when in reality you want to say, “In the name of everything holy, you look horrible man,, can I call you a taxi to take you to the hospital so I don’t feel guilty if you have a heart attack right in front of me? I don’t even know CPR.”
But the runners’ etiquette that has always eluded me is if you can ask another runner their race times. I’m not referring to the runners who update their facebook status with “OH YEAH just did the half marathon in 1:30, its ice bath time baby!” (true status update of someone I know). Those are the beacon of light runners, who even in the fog of everyday conversation will somehow manage to tell you their race times – Oh, so you had a baby and PR-ed in the same week, wow……I’m going to just vomit over here now. I’m confused about the everyman runner who keeps their times to themselves, but made mention of a race earlier……so can I ask their time, or since they didn’t offer it – is that none of my business?
If I look at it from the runner’s standpoint, I feel that my times are open to discussion – they are listed on the race results page anyway. Clearly I can’t tell my friend that I ran the 5k in 23:32 when the website says 28:02. The jig is up.
From the most logical view, it is a race after all; I participated in an athletic competition for a timed result. Whether I ran the race to beat my own previous time or the time of the 80 year old that I’m (fairly) certain I can pass – it is still timed for placing in a race. However I get the sense that some runners will openly share that they are racing, but never want to mention numbers afterwards. They will even remark about how their big toenail finally turned black and fell off (because that's what I want to hear about before I've had my Sheetz coffee in the morning) – yet they look completely taken aback when I ask about race times.
It’s not that I want to know out of self indulgence in case I’m faster than you (that, um….hasn’t really happened) – I want to know because we talk about training, speed-work, hills, and everything else related to running – I am naturally curious how it all cumulated.
I know we live in a very coddled society, where you aren’t really allowed to ask questions that might make someone feel anything less than great. But if I can put on my big girl pants and tell everyone about my 5:30 marathon time (I pathetically limped the last six miles, ah….the sweet memories….), then even if your time was not what you anticipated – you should feel that as part of the running community, we have all been in that boat before (with Jaws actively circling it). I rationalized that I couldn’t talk about my marathon for six months ahead of time, update those interested with training session chats, and take vacation time off work to run the race, then NOT give people the end of the “story”, even though it quite frankly sucked. Up until mile 20, I was on course for a 4:20 first marathon, so I had a hearty cry over my actual 5:30 finishing time. But that’s what happened and as a runner, I can openly share good and disappointing times with other runners without feeling judged.
I take my morning routine preeeeetttttttyyyyy seriously - so much in fact that I'm in bed every night between 7 p.m. - 8 p.m. just so that I can wake up properly at 4 a.m. to workout/run the next day. I'm one of those individuals who requires a full eight hours of sleep or else small children scream when they see me the next day. Because I'm a beast when I don't get eight hours of sleep.......in case I didn't try hard enough to make that connection....yup.....(cough).
This routine isn't cool, hell - I'm not sure if it's even remotely normal - but it's my thang and I like it. I'm sorry I just typed "thang", I know better than that. Let's just get to the point of this post. It's sadly already past my self imposed bedtime.
My alarm went off every day this week at 4 a.m. and this is exactly what happened everyday at 4 a.m.
Nothing.
Unless you count my hand swatting my cell phone to snooze the alarm, not one thing happened. I DIDN'T put on my pink running shorts. I DIDN'T give my adrenline pumped-up pug a kong to shut up her while I ran. I DIDN'T slip on my Asics. And I DIDN'T run around my ridiciously hilly neighborhood.
Of course I regret being lazy and skipping my runs so I'm determined to run this weekend. Here's hoping it doesn't hit 90 degrees. I must live a mile from the sun.
I’m the first to admit that I have no idea how hard it is to put on a race of any size. I briefly considered starting a 5k in my area, but after realizing that it involves a lot more effort than I was wanted to put in (I was only willing to send out one email), I nixed that little plan. So I respect every race director and the tireless dedication that goes into planning a competitive event.
That being said (ahem)- when you state on the website to post race times up the next day, I would hope to see my world record breaking time up there the next day. I ran a local 5k on Memorial Day and despite the unexpected mountain I had to run up at mile 2 (I can’t reiterate how much I need to do race research before slapping down my registration fee), the race was wonderful and it felt good to complete another race without any pain. Although a 5k isn’t my favorite distance, seeing as speed is the key factor in that event, completing any race at this point colors my world in roses. (The Alabaster Runner, his brother, and myself have signed up the Myrtle Mini Marathon in October – I’m not ashamed to say it was a decision made solely because of the honking big finisher’s medal).
I have a rough estimate of this race time, my PR for a 5k is 25:47 and I knew with having some lingering knee issues and just starting up running again, I wasn’t going to be breaking that PR time. I was shooting for sub 30 and considering that I was looking for a swift (and inconspicuous – those volunteers were eyeing me like a villian) exit at the bottom of the hill, I’ll take anything even close to 30 minutes. So cut to today and I’m refreshing the results page like I don’t have an actual job I should be doing, and still no results.
Realizing that I was getting unnaturally agitated about the missing results (to be fair, they still have six hours to post to remain in compliance with their website statement); I’m going to give myself a 5k time until I see something otherwise.
Theresa S. FemaleAge-2721:18
Holy dukes! I PR-ed with a 21:18! (Maybe I can live without factual results).
I was forwarded a running link by a friend and before my over worked brain had a chance to process the article title correctly, I thought I was about to read about a “Golden Girls Half Marathon”.
Even in this millisecond mistake, my mind was already envisioning dressing up like Blanche and puttering out 13.1 miles along 500 Rose look-a-likes talking about St. Olaf. Cheesecake would be served at the finish and the water stations would be under some ...Shady Pines. This was obviously the most ingenious marathon idea. Ever. Screw you Boston.
Then I actually clicked the link and was treated to this.
In November 2009 the Alabaster Runner and I finally realized that muscles don’t just appear out of thin air and we signed up at L.A. Fitness. After 18 months of consistent weight training (at least four times a week for 45 minutes), I’m reporting that I’m drunk happy with the results. My arms are more tone and shapely – and if I look just right in the mirror, I can see a little two-pack. I could have had even better results by this point, but I tend to easily fall of the clean eating wagon and take my time getting back on the Oregon Trail. There are surprisingly a copious amount of vegan friendly snacks that aren’t good for you (and I do not endorse tofu – you keep that to yourself Alicia Silverstone). Isn’t there some horribly accurate statistic where diet is 80% of your overall fitness, and exercise is merely 20%?
But bragging about my baby biceps isn’t the point of this post, that’s just gravy on the mashed potatoes. For most of the duration that I’ve been a gym member, weight training is all I’ve ever done (besides the initial treadmill runs and occasional yoga class). I thought weights were quite enough of a cross training tool and consider me well done. It wasn’t until I was out of running commission that I discovered spin class and how beneficial it might just be to break up my cardio as well. While I still plan on running in the morning four days a week; at my discretion I can use other days to spin and hover my little heart out. Not only does spin class give me a sweaty balls workout, it always protects my legs from a constant beating and hopefully prevents re-injury. Here is my typical week:
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday
Saturday
Sunday
weight training
run (3-4 miles)
weight training
run (3-4 miles)
weight training
run (3-4 miles)
run (3-4 miles)
Spin class
weight training
Spin class
weight training
Spin class
Rest
Rest
The runs will get longer as I feel my arches can handle the increased mileage – and sometimes a weight training session might move to another day, but this is the general consistency that I have grown to crave. Any way you cut the mustard, I’m done all my fitness related hoopla by early morning and feel genuinely energized the rest of the day. Additionally, while I’m always working out to some degree every day, the exertion level and difficulty of the workout is never back to back, so I can let certain sets of body muscles rest before they are heavily used again.
I firmly believe that cross training is essential for me in order to shift out of my old running logic (that thought going from my first 5k to a full marathon in less than 9 months was the of the same genius thinking level as Stephen Hawking) and begin to significantly train smarter.
This past Saturday I participated in the Mills Adventure Run with my husband, Travis, and older brother, Mikey. Here are the key facts you need to know about this dastardly race:
I was able to run the 5k without my arches or knees hurting in the slightest from PF.
Unfortunately, I completely COMPLETELY COMPLETELY underestimated the rapid deterioration rate of fitness sans running. Apparently when I don’t run for two months, a three mile obstacle race is the equivalent of Badwater. (I don’t know if I’m allowed to ever compare the level of race difficulty between a ‘local fun run’ and something ultra marathoner Scott Jurek called “hell on earth”, but here we are).
I greatly enjoyed the atmosphere of a small race, approximately 100 people signed up and 70 showed. And of those 70, about 64 of them looked really bada**. I just looked like someone who should have slathered on some tinted moisturizer.
My brother smoked before and after the race. This fact isn’t pertinent knowledge, but it still blows my mind.
Mikey also has the worst shoelaces ever, he had to stop and retie them six times in the span of thirty five minutes. Trust me when I say that other runners took notice and murmured in agreement about sailors’ knots.
The obstacles were much tougher than the 10k Merrell Mud Run in Philly, which surprised me because this event was so low key. An eight foot wall hurdle is quite intimating when you’re only 5’4.
I assumed someone would be manning a water station at the end of the race.
Water station? That was adorably naïve.
I didn’t properly do my race research (yet again) and wasn’t prepared for the water obstacle. I thought it was, at most, treading through ankle deep water – it was actually sloshing through waist high water on slippery rocks.
I took an embarrassing fall in the water obstacle. Dukes!
My dad caught the fall on camera. Double dukes!
The first forty runners across the finish line got awesome beer mugs.
Naturally, I was #41.
Even though I missed out on the beer mug by one person – some girl, who shamelessly flirted with both my brother and husband, passed me (skaaaaaaank) – I had a great time. My only complaint with the race organization was lack of water at the finish; otherwise it was a pleasantly intimate and well run race. Without hesitation I will run this event again.
I never expected to run the entire race without any hint of pain, much less get so close to being in the top forty (and I’m quite aware that being in the top forty out of seventy is not worthy of an Olive Garden celebration, but that’s a discussion between me and my future waiter). My dad, little sister and brother, were all in attendance as well. Swweeet!
And, for those interested, I did beat my arch nemesis, Mikey. But I’m pretty sure he let me.
My first race since being injured with PF is scheduled for May 14th, the Lower Allen Park Adventure Run roughly 2.8 miles and littered with military style obstacles. It should make for a good comeback race considering it is not even a full 5K, and the running is interjected with pull-ups, mud crawling, and rope climbing. My concern does not rest so much in the fact that I could barely finish a mile run a few weeks ago (although I really should spend some time musing over what that might indicate); my primary goal is to snuff my older brother out of a win anyway I can.
The short version is not quite as epic as the Count of Monte Cristo (“I swear on my dead relatives - and even on the ones who are not feeling too good - I am your man forever!”) – yet it still haunts me to my core. The alabaster runner, my older brother Michael, and myself, all ran out first half marathon together last fall. It was the Amish Bird-in-Hand ½ Marathon and my brother had never run more than 8 miles before, he’s a daily smoker, and he didn’t have much experience running outside. In a logical world these facts would indicate that I would fare somewhat better. But in bizarro “screw the pooch” world, Michael managed to keep pace with us the entire time without seemingly much labored effort. Although taken for surprise, I enjoyed our family run and even envisioned a race photo of us all crossing at the same time and making a beeline for the Dominos pizza booth. For 12.5 miles we all agreed on this storybook ending UNTIL in the last half mile of the race Michael decided that our little Disney finish wouldn’t suffice and he pulled out in front and smoked me by one muthafu*** minute for the win. (It should be noted that the alabaster runner saw Michael speed away and in turn A.R. pulled ahead too and finished fifteen seconds ahead of me – so apparently all the men in my life athletically betray me).
I can handle being beaten – that happened about 10,000 times over in the Shamrock Marathon – you get oddly used to the cold air of someone passing you. But we were going to finish together as a family and Michael gloated and reviled in the win too deliciously for my taste. So when he suggested we join him on the Adventure Run, I knew this was redemption. Unfortunately, my current plantar fasciitis presents a problem that I didn’t forecast when I signed up for this race. With that in mind, I came up with some back up ammo to take Michael down – I present practical tips to beat your running rival.
Work on strength training – if I can’t run at my full 100%, I have to take him down on the obstacles. I will have to tap into my inner Jillian Michael's physique and shame his girly arms on the rope climbs. (Note: this only works in the typical 5K obstacle run – unless there are some crazy mud run marathons going on that I’m not privy to).
Pray to God that he becomes injured as well. I don’t wish him ill necessarily, but a bout of cholera wouldn’t kill him. (Second note: research if cholera kills someone).....(Third note: it does).
Play it off like I’m not looking for sweet revenge, give him a false sense of a “family fun run” and then pass him at the end (while simultaneously screaming “SUCKA” at the top of my lungs). Keep it classy. However, since I have been emailing Michael at least once a week for months and throwing around phrases like, “Mud is thicker than blood” and “Ready for the can of whoop a** yet?”, I think the innocent act would be moot.
Cheat – obviously the most heinous and deplorable option at my disposal. Not. seeing. downside.
I can remember distinctly when I first started running and all I wanted to do was get past the one mile mark on the gym treadmill. Cut to more than a year later and I finished 5ks, 10ks, half marathons, and one full marathon (I also don’t run on a treadmill anymore – I feel a little too much like a chunky hamster forced into a spinning wheel). Move a little bit further down the zombie running time line and I became tragically sidelined with plantar fasciitis with no hope of running for weeks.
Weeks have (sloooooooooowly) passed and this morning I had my first truly successful run since this whole PF bag of soggy balls started - I had no pain, not even an ache. My left knee wasn’t twitchy and my arches behaved like good little parolees. I never dreamed that after completing a marathon I could feel any sense of satisfaction from running just a mere mile, but I was elated after finishing the mile.
Then I realized no one else cared and I still had to go to work- thus that elation fell like Lindsey Lohan stumbling out of a bar. Regardless, I can start running again – which is a good thing, because my next blog post was chronicling the ups and downs of vegan soy milk.
I think we all dodged a bullet.
And for no intelligent reason, here’s Hershey in a hat, TGIF!
The inaugural Gettysburg North South Marathon was one I was actually contemplating about running before I ran Yuengling Shamrock. As someone without a lick of full marathon experience, I thought it would be completely feasible to run two marathons within a few months of each other as a newbie - I assumed whole hearted enthusiasm would carry me onward if my quads gave out during any marathon. Turns out motivational running quotes only get you so far (approximately to mile 20) before you realize Steve Prefontaine quotes don't do jack or shit for torn arches. Thank god plantar fasciitis set me straight. Whew.
So I volunteered myself, Travis, and my best friend Andrea (the word wasn't so much "volunteered" as much as "signed up without really telling either of them first") to help out with the race for two days - and it was an amazing experience being on the other side of the race. The other volunteers were extremely friendly and it's a great atmosphere to realize how supportive and encouraging the running comminutity is - and apparently a lot of other injured runners had the same idea as myself and still wanted to be a part of this marathon.
We helped with registration yesterday and today was non-stop with late packet pickups, bag checks, table set-ups, passing out food, and just admiring all the finely sculpted men that had to strip down bare chest to try on their race shirts (I'm happily married though, I only glanced because I have an overwhelming concern with appropiate mens' shirt sizing). I could really go on and on about how impressive the Gettysburg Marathon was - all the runners said the course was challenging but fair - but the goal of this post was to convince every runner to volunteer at least once because of all the general good running feelings, the sense of betterment, oppurtunity to meet other althetes, yadda, yadda, yadda, and the FREE SWAG that is illustrated below:
Ignore the dog trying to bogart in on the shot, he's an attention whore who has a better PR.
The volunteer shirts were red airy tech tees and the gray/blue hats were so nice that runners were asking to buy them at lightening speed. Plus, I don't have any fire engine red shirts in my running wardrobe, so this debilatating arch injury that lead to my (some would say utterly heroic) volunterism was all meant to happen - according to the running gods, all hail Under Armour.
Volunteer at a race to truly appreciate how hard everyone behind the scenes works.....or just volunteer for the free shirt and hat, I can't judge you over the internet.
I think every runner has a few races that they want to run before their legs fall off. Admittedly, I haven’t been running very long – yet I’ve already begun to compile my list of desired races. Without further ado, here are the chosen ones:
Steamtown Marathon – It’s a close marathon (3 hours) that has the small town feel with a copious amount of volunteers and spectators. I read all about the pounding down hills and the completely inappropriate uphill ending, but what I haven’t read is one bad thing about this marathon. As long as you train for hills, you will be able to handle the course. Plus, I know the informational emails from the race director are hilarious, I really nerd-ed it up last week and read all of last years emails in the marathon’s online forum. Count me in. I need to be entertained while simultaneously being reminded that three months prior I thought signing up for a 26.2 mile run would be a good idea.
The Krispy Kreme Challenge – Run two miles: eat a dozen donuts: run back two miles: all under an hour. Participating in this race means breaking the holy vow of veganism (amen), but I don’t think I can resist. It’s not even that I secretly covet Krispy Kreme donuts, it’s more about pushing my body to the most un-athletic limits possible and still being able to brag about my tough weekend challenge to those who naively believe this race is just being sponsored by the donut giant. I might even rig up some sort of glazed donut medal for myself – because any race where Homer Simpson has a legitimate chance of winning is a race that obviously merits a medal.
Big Sur – Everyone knows that the majestic scenery is the reasoning behind running this particular race – so there’s no need to really expand here. Let me clarify why this race won’t be happening anytime soon though – Big Sur is not a race for the frugal or economically challenged and I just paid for my McDonald’s coffee this morning in dimes.
Gold Rush Days Burro Race – This race takes place in Colorado and is part of a weekend that celebrates the old west gold rush. One of the festivities is running 12.5 miles with a burro that may, or may not, feel like running with your sorry arse. I’m all about the quirky races, and now that I’m aware of a race where I can run with a stubborn burro exists, the comical implications are boundless. Unfortunately this falls into the same financial pitfalls of traveling that Big Sur is in – so unless I can convince the alabaster runner to plan our yearly vacation around me pleading with a stinky horse-wannabe to run, while A.R. blisters in the sun, this race might boil on the back burner for awhile.
Zombie 5K – as long as I can find a zombie race within a 60 mile radius of Hellam, I will be more than happy to sign up. I’m pretty lenient on the “requirements” for this race – just so that I can dress up as a zombie and run aimlessly around on the course. On the other hand, I could run as a victim and test the theory whether or not I would ever trip my husband during a zombie attack and leave him for dead. Final decision: he would want me to leave him – I’m fairly certain this exact situation was addressed in the wedding vows.
As I grow as a runner and hopefully pick up the speed a little bit, I believe this list will mature as well. For right now though, I’m content with these little racing nuggets and can’t wait until I can start crossing them off.
To my devoted followers (thanks Dad), I’m sorry I haven’t updated the blog in over a week. I have been plagued with an unbearable fever, chills to the bone, less than adorable sniffles, and a sore throat. Thank god none of this has affected my running.
This is where I hang my head in shame and mention I’m not currently running nor am I supposed to run for another three weeks. After several pitiful attempts to run a mile (ah…...sweet memories), my physical therapist decided it was best for me to completely stop repeatedly humiliating myself running and let the plantar fasciitis heal until the Adventure Run (3 miles) on May 14th. How appropriate that I run throughout the entire cold-as-balls winter and when the best time of the running season rolls around, I’m condemned to the spin bike at the gym? Although I have to admit, the spin class leaves me dripping in sweat and I got this “hover” nonsense down to a science.
Since I’m still in some flu like agony, I’m going to cut this one short (you’re welcome Dad) and leave it on this note:
Geoffrey Mutai just ran a full marathon in – I can’t even believe that speed. Someone just ran a full 26.2 miles almost two minutes faster than it took me to run a half marathon. It actually took me a hawt minute to realize that he would have lapped me RUNNING TWICE THE DISTANCE. Personally, I don’t take it as a sign that I run too slowly, I'm putting it out there, let's be frank - I think he’s running dangerously too fast. Slow it down buddy, you’re making about 10 million recreational runners look really bad. Yeesh.
This past Sunday I eagerly laced up my new Asics to go for a beautiful run with my dad, who was visiting, and the alabaster runner. The AR was going to kick out one loop around the surrounding farmland which equals out to 2.5-3 miles, something I would literally give my own leg (in exchange for a better one of course) to accomplish– my dad took pity and joined me on my one mile endeavor around the neighborhood. Luckily my pride was already gunned down mercilessly weeks ago during the marathon, so I’m extremely comfortable with runner’s pity as of late.
The only way I can possibly describe the run is that I resembled and felt like a bloodied, wounded baby deer gimping along after being hit by a huge SUV head on. Don’t perceive my analogy wrong, I adore baby deer; I just needed to use nature’s most innocent creature to violently describe my agony.
My arches were tender, but they weren’t really that painful. The seventh circle of hell was courtesy of my left knee that decided screwing me over in one race wasn’t sufficient. It started to throb almost immediately and I knew that finishing my recovery mile was a pipe dream. After wrapping up my whooping .5 mile run, my dad walked me home, which was nice because my other option was limping alone and swearing at the top of my lungs like a lunatic.
I expected my arches to hurt – that is why I’m going to physical therapy after all (side note- I just discovered my insurance covers up to 60 visits, not too shabby Manor Care…..not too shabby). Having my knee give out not only surprised me, but it genuinely angered me. One ailment at a time please, get in line left knee - if anything, my rippling biceps are due to be strained. My physical therapist assured me that it’s not actually a knee issue, which only hurts because of the issues with my arches, but that doesn’t make me feel all sunshine and Elmo better. All I can grasp is that I can’t run a mile right now and I discovered The Macaroni Grill is ripe with unlimited bread at the table. It’s like a Greek tragedy.
My next “run” is scheduled for tomorrow morning; I’m pretty pumped to see how this will play out. On an unrelated note, if I don’t post again within 72 hours, can someone check Route 472 in Hellam and make sure I’m not lying dead in cow manure?
I am acutely aware now that there is a major difference between pulling a Kevin Federline and taking a few days off exercise - and being told by several sport therapists that I need to stop running for an undetermined amount of time. The first example is by choice, I have no shame admitting that during marathon training I skipped out on some of my 4 a.m. bitterly frigid runs to sleep in and dream of being independently wealthy. Of course I always rationalized with myself that I could make up these missed runs and many times I did (other times I didn't and between me and Jesus, we're both wildly ok with that).
The second example is not by choice - thus making it slightly more devastating. My physical therapist said my case of plantar fasciitis isn't too terrible and that I can begin to run as soon as I feel comfortable (although he did helpfully suggest that I may want to stop hobbling first). He did remark (unprompted I might add) that I have the flattest feet he's ever seen in his entire career. I immediately decided that this might only be his second week on the job - he must have been an ice trucker for years before having a mid life crisis and switching over to therapy. This theory had absolutely no flaws until I glanced at the faded picture of him cutting the ribbon to officially open the therapy clinic back in 1984.
Long story short - too late - while minimalist shoes work just splendidly for those blessed normal individuals that actually have an arch in their foot (that damned alabaster runner) they will cause me continuous pain in my arch for as long as I continue to feebly run in them. At his request I brought in my vibrams for our next session and laid them on the table for Mr. PT - and without him even pointing out the problem, I could see that the shoes severely leaned inwards as pregnancy test positive of my over pronation.
So I have to give up my beloved vibrams if I want to run without re-injuring myself every few months - and truthfully I suspected as much since October. I did my research and settled on a pair of Asics Foundation Gel 8 shoes to fill the running void. The tentative plan is to run next weekend (assuming my arch does not throb like a beeyotch anymore), somewhere between 1-3 miles and take it slowly from there. At first I can surmise that these heavier shoes will only slow my zombie pace even more, but I should stay on track to BQ by the time I'm in the 60+ age bracket. I've come to terms (sobbing can only take up so much of my time) that this injury means revamping my running schedule and starting small again, gradually re-building up to half marathon status by the fall.
While all this isn't depressing enough, I have to practically smack potato chips and other junk food out of my hand lately. And the second third bowls of pasta have to stop as well - there's no need to carbo-load anymore when my most extensive cardio consists of speed walking to the bathroom after my morning coffee.
But I refuse to end on a bad note - so here's the cutest thing you'll see all day!
Despite various warnings from extremely credible sources, I decided to keep my hotel reservation and run the Cherry Blossom 10 miler yesterday in D.C. The alabaster runner had prior work obligations so I was going solo on this race – which suited me just nicely – I needed redemption from the Shamrock Marathon and an easy ten mile run would give me some runners’ pride back. I can’t even think of shamrocks now without quietly rationalizing that maybe the ending scene of “Saw” where Cary Elwes chops his own foot off isn’t that crazy after all.
I arrived in D.C. and settled into my room at the amazing Hyatt Hotel – yes, it is the host hotel and although I did recently comment about less than stellar host hotels, this reservation had been in the works for months prior to that post. Canceling would have been downright wasteful, especially when there is a Starbucks right in the hotel lobby. I’m a reasonable person – soy latte please.
I made haste to the expo because while I was busy getting lost in downtown D.C. earlier (really, no left hand turning signals….I call bullshit), I had discovered that the line to the expo wrapped around the building on all four sides. That was something to look forward to. As I stood in line I thought about how nice the weekend was turning out to be and I looked up to see the clouds take on a nice darker blue/gray hue. Without warning the wind started blowing furiously and the sky opened up to release the equivalent of Noah’s Ark rain on everyone waiting innocently for our race packets. And by rain, I mean buckets of small angry hail. Looking around at the few individuals around me that did have umbrellas (and enough sense to access weather.com); I cursed myself for not doing my elementary weather research more thoroughly. Don’t just look up the weather the day of the race you fool! I was even more dismayed to remember that I had experimented with the smoky eye look that morning, which now dissolved into more of a “heroin whore” palette with mascara dripping everywhere.
This post is already getting lengthy – and I haven’t even gotten into the expo yet – I’m going to speed this up. The expo was great and I now know the better part of D.C.’s Chinatown. I don’t know how I got lost within a one mile radius but I did. Save your applause for the end people, it's embaressing otherwise.
The Race
With over 20,000 runners, organization is obviously key for a major race, and Cherry Blossom was on top of their shyt. I didn’t have to wait for bag check and everything flowed to the exact scheduled minute. No matter what else you take away from reading this post, the Cherry Blossom is a coveted race for a reason – it rocks. The volunteers are friendly and didn’t mind telling me several times over how I cannot have the medal mailed to me if I leave now.
Honestly, one of the best parts of racing is listening to the conversations around you while in the corral. I heard how some people were under-trained, others were first time racers, many were veterans of the Cherry Blossom, and a select few mentioned a nagging injury that might complicate a victory (actually, that was just me bitching to the girl next to me who innocently asked how I was doing). That’s how the orange wave rolls.
For the first three miles I felt amazing, I couldn’t believe I almost cancelled running this race due to the opinion of a few people who clearly didn’t know what they were talking about. My heel was doing just fine, thank you – take your concerns elsewhere Dr. Stelmach of Apple Hill Podiatry. I have my suspicions about the validity of your “medical license” anyway. At mile 3.5 I even kicked it into high gear to set that land speed record of a 9 m/m pace. Balls to the wall!
Well to settle the most basic human question, God does exist because his sense of cruel humor at mile four had my Achilles chugging along like a champion; it was my left knee that ruined my chances of the Olympic trials….et tu Brute? It was terrifying and painful while I limped off the course three times to work out the kinks (that’s what they call excruciating injuries nowadays right, kinks?) I seriously considered taking the dreaded DNF and having a super fun ambulance ride back the hotel. I wasn't that thrilled to experiment with the metro line in any case.
Honestly, it probably would have played out like that too if I hadn’t just passed the closest medical tent – another one wouldn’t be coming up for a couple of miles. My Einstein brain bargained with my screaming knee that if I got the next medical tent and conditions didn't improve, I would drop out and tell everyone a Kenyan pushed me. Otherwise…..I would gut it out and pray that someone severely mislabeled the mile markers.
At the halfway mark I was still managing a 10 m/m and was able to run through the pain so the decision was made to finish out this race. Plus I had prepaid for the medal. In the last three miles the pain even subsided enough for me to enjoy the scenery and make small talk with the other runners keeping pace (I talked to a lot of AARP people at this point and was passed by the completely underestimated wheelchair division of the race). When I saw the National Monument I almost cried with happiness. I finished the race strong and in a respectable time table for someone with several injuries (). Screw your bran muffins and bananas, give me my medal.
And the banana. I’m pretty hungry actually.
The Aftermath
I managed not to limp to the hotel, which was fortunate considering an unusually high amount of runners caught up with me and asked how I liked my vibrams. I thought it would look bad on my part to be caught in a Quasimodo shuffle but answering, “Oh, they’re great, just ease into them. No problems whatsoever …..move along now – I hear the 5 Guys and Fries opens soon, don’t want to miss that!”
When I finally got home the severity of my injuries increased dramatically as I nearly suplexed my adorable pug into a wall when she hopped onto my knee. Filling bags of ice and wincing in agony pretty much took up the rest of my Sunday evening (keep your jealousy at bay people, I can’t help but live the wild James Bond lifestyle). My left knee and my right heel are calling the shots now – neither one is a real big fan of walking, which leaves me in an awkward stride today at work. I made an appointment with my foot doctor today because I want to hear the “I told your dumba** not to run any races” in person and figure out the extent of my damages.
I want to end this post very simply though: If I had to go back in time and decide whether or not to run the Cherry Blossom, I would still do it all over again.
Edit: Since visiting said foot doctor, it's prescribed that I wear a small arch brace all day, go to physical therapy for the next few weeks, and intimately know my strasburg sock at night. To add more pain to this, I got my issue of Runners World in the mail today - damn you and your inhuman legs Kara Goucher!
I think it’s pretty well known fact that even though running in theory is free, it can actually be so expensive that I want to dig my eyes out with a spork once I add up all the costs depleting my paltry bank account. I really do try and keep my running expenses down – I only purchased a $4 lunch bag at my last race expo, I completely bypassed the $100 pain relief electro-ipod thingy that my dad fell victim to buying (sucka!). My running drawer has a minimal – yet utterly fashionable – array of choices, and I only recently replaced my bikilas after I discovered that they are not in fact, machine washable. They should tell you that kind of stuff on the label--- oh wait, something is coming back to me……they did mention that….in bold print.
My financial pitfalls have been races and the atrocious associated fees of gas, lodging, and entry fees. Here’s a bit of advice I wish someone had given me eight months ago: there is no benefit whatsoever in selecting the host hotel as my choice of lodging and it will cost me approximately a crap load more to stay there than the reasonably priced hotel down the street. Not only will it cost me more of my precious dinero to stay there, but in some cases the host hotel isn’t even near the start OR EFFING FINISH of the race (Shamrock Marathon, I’m looking at you). As a newbie runner I think I learned my lesson; have my husband make the reservations with his card, then forget where my credit card is during check out. *
As much as I try to be reasonable with my finances, there’s still some basic material necessities in running that would make my world a lot happier. As I list these items, keep in mind that there’s no need to look up the definition of the word necessity.
1. Garmin 405 – why? Because I’m frankly tired of wearing a computer on my wrist, otherwise known as the Garmin 305. I feel very outdated with this piece of plastic - I've run through Amish country roads and I know I heard chuckling from someone churning butter.
2. Nike Women's Cyclone Jacket - this jacket is so cute and functional that I would be tempted to see if the barter system could be revived and see if the website has any use for a pug. (Because I wasn't a helicopter pet parent, the only trick Hershey knows is "sit", so clerical work might be out).
3. Nathan Women's Intensity Backpack - I admit that I didn't do my fair share of lugging around the water on our longer runs during marathon training, so I would like to make up for it now with this most awesome backpack. The alabaster runner should take me up on this offer and immediately proceed to the online checkout.
I should be grateful that I have crapper cheaper versions of everything on this wishlist, certainly there are bigger bills to battle first. But I believe the ultimate question this post raises should be: Will I die without getting these items?
Yes, yes I will.
*Set a block from allowing the husband to read blog. No sense of humor.*
What I discovered to be the best part of running a marathon is the self induced mandatory week off afterwards that you get to enjoy. No 4 a.m. morning runs in the ass-biting cold, no trips to the gym after a lovely day at the office to work on my "Terminator" biceps, and not having to hear my husband "the alabaster runner" complaining about how his little toes-ies are cold in vibrams. Ah.....it's been a blissful week.
Cut to this morning when I realized that my week of laziness is over and I can't shrug off my physical fitness anymore (although if Jessica Simpson can use a sliding scale of optimal fitness over the years, I should be entitled to more than a week). I was concerned about the run on many levels, the least being that I think I ordered the wrong size shoe in the latest edition of bikila vibrams and my big feet are getting claustrophobic. We needed to run an easy 2-3 "shake off the marathon blues" miles and test our legs.
The alabaster runner said that his knees were bothering him a little, which I completely believe because he was the one holding onto the leash of our insanely athletic boxer, Odie. That dog has run nine miles with us before, then afterwards will turn to us with a look that clearly reads, "That's all beeyotches? Lame." Whoever has the immense pleasure of holding onto his leash usually ends up with some aches and pains from Odie pulling ahead like he sees endless fields of bacon swaying in the wind.
I managed to run in my typical injured gazelle fashion and came away enjoying our first recovery run. As long as I keep my achilles pain at bay during my runs this week, I still plan on winning this Cherry Blossom 10 Miler in D.C. I'm cleared to take the gold on that race as long as some 9,000 other runners fail to set their iphone alarms.
I'll continue my easy runs this week and my exciting life of icing my legs, rolling out my legs, and stretching my legs. And that also means I'm trotting my butt over the L.A. Fitness and silently judging everyone who wears hoop earrings to the gym. Don't start me on a rant about hoop earring gym goers.
Since this is my first blog, I'll do a quick background check on myself and give you the basics...
This is me....
This is my insanely smart pug (thank you TIME Magaine), Hershey.....
and this is what a zombie looks like running....
This is how the three are related to one another, follow the bouncing ball on this one - I love to run, I'm trying to get Hershey to run more than 1/2 mile, and my pace is slightly faster than that of a zombie. It's not as smooth as a Kevin Bacon connection, but you get the idea. Maybe.
Let me clarify by breaking down the basics about myself in order to have this blogging endeavor make sense.
1. I run a crazy fast 10 m/m, which actually gets even slower as I go over the bajillion hills in my neighborhood. I imagine to those watching me I must resemble something of a perkier zombie trolling about the streets. Basically, I need to incorporate some more speedwork into my runs. I'll pencil that right in.
2. My darling husband Travis is my running partner and because he's so - what's the phrase - alabaster white, he tends to bogart the sunscreen on hotter runs.
3. One of my goals is to run a doggie dash with my lovable pug Hershey, but she doesn't have the dedication of the Olympic althetes that I hoped she would possess. She's actually sleeping right now, clearly the ten hours she slept while I was at work didn't cut the mustard today.
4. My shoe of choice is the Vibram Bikila with shoelaces, that's right, the brand spanking new edition! Woot! Although I love minimalist shoes, I respect anyone's shoe choice - this is a safe place. Let's hug it out.
5. I recently ran my first marathon, the Yuengling Shamrock Marathon on 3/20/2011. I don't want to say it didn't go well, but I will most definitely not be purchasing the outrageously priced race photos of myself HOBBLING to the finish. (Of course there's not one friggin' photo of me running the first 21 miles of the race - that would be crazy, who would want a running photo to commemerate their first marathon?)
6. Whenever I initially type "marathon", I always stick a "g" on it and come up with "marathong". I had to edit this inital post six times to correct that mistake already. You're welcome for the little gem of knowledge.
7. I want to connect with other runners and talk about how Under Armour is ridicously expensive, how I know the weather forecast for the next ten days, and complain about how women's race shirts always fit poorly (that is bull crappity - ).
Have patience with the blog, this is something new for me - and I really don't even like the word blogging. I'd like to think I'm writing on the internet with flare. Please feel free to comment and I'll be back soon.
