Tails of Falibility

I've been rather awful about updating this blog during this training season. As it turns out, I'm less than a week from the Marathon. It's this upcoming Sunday, on October 6th.

I'm feeling pretty good about it. Although this is my third marathon, it wasn't until this year's training that I actually ran 22 miles without stopping to walk. I'm feeling more confident than in previous years that I'm actually going to run the whole thing. I'm hoping to get under 4:15 for my total time. 

Yesterday I had what should have been my last long run before the 26.2. An 8 miler. I didn't quite make it. 

The tricky thing about training for a marathon, especially when I'm doing some real training, not the minimalist 3-day-a-week training I did last year, is the toll it takes on your social life. With a 22 mile run Sunday morning, you really can't go out Saturday night. In fact, your Sunday is pretty much ruined as well. While living in mostly sleepy central VT, this really only was an issue when it came to band practices and gigs. 

However, a month and a half ago, I moved to Boston. Back to my home state, where I'm getting invited to family gatherings and parties and BBQs and friends events at a level I am far from adjusted to. I hate to complain about this, and I'm really not. It's one of the best things about this area that allows me to put up with the traffic and the higher rent and lack of maple syrup. But, as I moved at pretty much the height of my training, I've certainly had to turn down more events than I've wanted to. 

Since the 22-mile run a couple weeks ago, I've been tapering, cutting the mileage way back before the big day. This last weekend was actually the first weekend since I've been here where I've gone out on both Friday and Saturday nights. 

This is not an excuse for my Sunday performance, but more of a demonstration as to where my head was at. 

So, right, not much sleep Friday. Got home late-ish Saturday night, but woke up at 7am anyway, thanks to LTB and my internal clock. Slow to get out the door, the morning was as foggy as my brain. My glasses kept getting all steamed up (oh yeah, I tore my last pair of contacts while camping a month or so ago, so I've been running with glasses and it's not great). Eventually, I took my glasses off and held them in my hand, because I could actually see better without them. I was sluggish, but the endorphins started pumping around the end of the second mile. 

I started thinking about how relatively smoothly this training had gone. I stayed well-hydrated throughout all the runs, had pretty much no injuries, and somehow didn't miss a run while moving to a new state. I found a great running route very quickly and accidentally - a sweet little 5-mile loop around a pond. And, unlike central VT, there's sidewalks everywhere and roads going in so many directions, it's wicked easy to come up with a million new routes. 

Anyway, at some point while basking in my invincibility, I was looking in the distance, trying to figure out what the blurry blue object was moving towards me - another runner? a bike? 

Then, my foot caught on ... something. I'll never know what, but what came after that moved in slow motion. A quick jolt in my center of gravity, followed by some embarrassment yet feeling confident that I can quickly recover and continue to move forward, er, no, here comes the ground, moving towards my face faster than my legs can move, and my glasses are flying down the sidewalk.* And now I'm on the ground and concerned runners are surrounding me. "I'm ok!" I yelp, seconds before I've even figured out if I can even stand up. I can. 

Oh, the looks of horror. "Do you have someone you can call?" "Yep!" I stay positive and want them to leave me alone. Why is this always my first reaction when I'm hurt - to try to get people to leave me alone? I reassure them that I have someone to call, and thank them for stopping, and start to mess around with my phone like I'm going to call someone. After asking if I'm ok five more times, they continue with their runs. 

Finally, I look down, there's blood. It's running down my leg pretty fast. My wrist is a bloody mess. Although I have friends and family in the area, all I can think is that LTB is on his run as well. He left a little before me - is he home by now? I'm shaken up and having trouble thinking straight. I check my nike running app and see that I've run about 2.5 miles, meaning I'm 2.5 miles from home. I text LTB and start walking. I know there's a hospital near by, and wonder the bleeding is going to stop on its own. And then I wonder if my health insurance even works in this state. Every runner that passes me gives me another unwelcome horrified look. 

Screw it, I think, I just need to get home as fast as possible. I start running. I'm all adrenaline at this point and the miles fly by. Nearing home, I begin to think I should just run the additional 3 miles and finish up the 8 mile run like a champ, until the fear of bleeding out and infections and medical bills catches up to me. 

When I got home, I was feeling upset. Disappointed in not finishing the run. Mad at my lack of invincibility. Embarrassed by my vulnerability. I did not want to get in the shower, which I knew would be awful, so I decided to procrastinate and document my downfall. 

Here's some bloody pictures behind the cut. Don't click if you don't want to see blood. 

Argh Hills!

It's official: I've signed up for the Maine Marathon. 153 days to go. The weather is warming up, almost as if we jumped right from winter to summer, but I know it's going to get a lot worse by the time training gets intense. Hydration is going to be a HUGE issue. After doing a bit of research, I'm planning on picking up 20 oz. Amphipod hand-held water bottle. I can't take the water belt any more. I put in on for a 5-miler last week, and was surprised by how bulky and uncomfortable it was. Did I really run an entire marathon with that thing? I'm over it. I'm hoping the handheld option will be better.

 I'm excited about the Nike+ Running App I've been using to track my runs. It's free, and for the data-usage-conscious, it uses maybe 2 MB/hour. It provides SO many stats, and the leadership board is kind of addictive and encouraging. Definitely recommended.

Today's run was the longest one yet this year - 6 miles. Since the last marathon, I've relocated to central VT, where it's incredibly beautiful and there's a lot less cars, but WAY hillier. I've been taking on this route towards Sugarbush, and the hills are RIDICULOUS, and kind of just keep going for miles and miles. It almost makes me miss that one little half-mile hill on Battery Street in Burlington. One way or another, I'm going to have to make my peace with hills.

On the way back down. This hill just keeps going forever.

I was happy to get in the 6 miles today, but not ecstatic about my pace. I'm not going to make excuses. My fastest 5-miler so far was 9:07/mile, last Tuesday. Since then, I haven't been able to get back to it. I really want to be able to do 5 miles in under 45 minutes, and I think I can make it happen - particularly if I keep training on these hills!

I do know that mindset is more important than anything. The mantra I am repeating to myself, which admittedly was most prominent in my mind during the 9-minute miles, is "mile 20 is going to be way harder than this." It somehow puts things in perspective, knowing that the more I push myself now, the more it will pay off later.

Have I mentioned that the "official" training doesn't even start until June?

Running Shape

With my eye on the Maine marathon in October, I started running again this week. I had an awfully lethargic winter, as it sometimes happens with folks like me who live in the northeast but don't ski or do many outdoor winter activities. I did a good amount of yoga, but before this week, my last run was likely in November, I think, maybe even October.

I decided I needed to get back into "running shape" a bit further in advance than I did last year. I won't start the real training until June, which gives me 3 months. Last year, I only gave myself a month of consistent running, which I think is what led to some of my injuries, as well as feeling less prepared overall throughout training.

This time around, I'm planning on following the Hal Higdon Training Program - Intermediate 1. I found out about this program from the Runner's World Forum, and it came highly recommended from many marathon runners. It looks great to me because I prefer to run more days than not running, and this doesn't involve any speed training, which, honestly, I really don't like and tend to half-ass. Also, it allows for cross-training once a week, which allows me time to do yoga and/or disc golf, which makes me happy.

My first run of the year was a 2-miler on Saturday. While slow, it was actually pretty fun. I was incredibly sore on Sunday, and slightly less sore today. Today I went for a 3-mile run, and let me tell you, it is still very much winter here. It's around 25 degrees, which wasn't too bad, but the wind chill was awful, particularly on the second half of the run. That coupled with feeling like I was going to lose my lunch for the last mile (my body abruptly reminding me that dairy and running are an awful combination), today's run was less than spectacular. I felt like I was crawling the last mile, barely above walking speed.

It's good to get this down so I can look back and remember that, at one time, running 3 miles was quite a challenge. But I know I'll get back into running shape in no time, because bodies are amazing like that. It's a wonderful reminder of how temporary discomfort often turns out to be, and how well I can adapt if I stick to it. Life metaphors, blahblahblah.