Humble Pie

I feel like I've already titled a post with this headline but here I am again. Wondering at the little niggling feeling I have in the pit of my stomach is a knee jerk reaction to a terrible run or the truth that is finally surfacing.

Last week's runs at home on the paved road weren't terrible. They weren't fantastic either. There is definitely some difference in where and on what you run. A treadmill in a room is much easier than asphalt in the wind going uphill. I knew this but what I didn't expect was a wind storm that made me look as though I were walking with concrete blocks on my feet. My quads haven't felt that sore in a very long time.

I made it home yesterday in time to run my long run on the treadmill though. About 8 miles in and I was a goner. I got sidestiches from H.E. double hockey sticks and just couldn't get it back on. Between running, jogging, walking and crying I managed to finish it about 20 minutes over my goal with Lyndsey walking next to me almost the entire time. God bless her!

So, now I am back to square one, wondering is this all a mistake. What could I have done differently? Well the same thing I should have done differently a few weeks ago...not eaten a huge meal a couple hours before I ran...duh!!

Maybe I'll learn.

It was humiliating. It was humbling. Let's see if I can recover.

Merry Christmas

This will likely be my last post until after Christmas. So let me take a moment to wish all of you out there in cyberland a very Merry Christmas. While I am excited for the holidays and the vacation I have been saving my days for all year round, I am also aprehensive. Holidays equal chaos. All the excitement also means, cooking, cleaning, mending and refereeing.

Now, combine that also with trying to stay motivated to train and then running the long runs when you want to be inside with your family gathered around hot pancakes instead of snotting all over yourself in the chilly air.

Running at home means running up and down the almost mile stretched road that my folks live off of. Parading myself in front of house after house with dogs that scare me while trying to appear dignified as the sweat pours down your arms, legs and back. If it's cold, you snot and that's even worse.

I am thankful that where they live now is not my hometown and I don't know many people and none of the neighbors well enough to be too embarrassed but I still have to say I am anxious. Hopefully the eggnog will kick in and I'll be so relaxed that a 14 mile run will seem like a welcomed break.

Despite my worries I wish you a very Merry Christmas, a Happy and safe New Year. I'll see you on the flip side.

And the beat goes on...

And the beat goes on...

My 12 miler became a half marathon yesterday. I felt good enough, had a good enough pace to go ahead and do 13.1 miles. That makes it the second time in less than a month that I've run a half marathon. That would astound me if I wasn't already looking forward and realizing for the next like 8 weeks it will be mileage over a half marathon. Sigh...

The run was good, I had some movies to keep me distracted and mentally I broke it down into 4 5K's which made it easier to tackle. It's weird running by myself for so long and no one else was at the gym so if you can't concentrate on something else it seems to take forever.

Time wise I was on target but seriously, at this point I am just trying to survive. I moved my next LSD to Saturday- my 14 miler. So I could get it out of the way, get a nap in before a wedding I have to attend Saturday night allowing me to get up Sunday and get on the road for my Christmas break.

Perhaps the best part of this is that the training will make for a fun holiday break since the food is not forbidden. Seriously, how did I manage not one cookie or cake or candy last Christmas??! Ack.

Rockin' the Fauxhawk

For me it's a time for changes. I always joke about being borderline OCD but I am not sure if that's really true because every quarter (of the year) or so I need to change something up. Decoration in the house, my office, a new style of clothing, new hobby or in this case a new haircut.

Needing a haircut desparately, I convinced my housemate she needed one, too. While we went to the salon for her, I ended up walking out with my hair cut into a fauxhawk. What does this have to do with marathon training? Nothing and everything.

Ever since the half marathon my momentum , excitement and motivation have been lacking incredibly. I took my two week breather and am 1 1/2 weeks back into training. My 11 miler on Saturday was horrid and I almost vowed then and there to quit for good.

My health is great according to the doctor and she's pleased with my weight despite my higher ingestion of carbs these days- as long as I am still running.

I got up this morning undecided on when I would run my 6 miler, this morning or tonight. I hate that...I hate running at night because all day I it lurks. But lately I have been sleeping in, not waking up on my own at 4 or 5 am wanting to run. So I have been letting myself sleep. I ran this morning, later than usual but in plenty of time.

I just can't get that hardcore into it again. I'm struggling. Inside myself. The food is so good but it goes bye bye if I quit. I am not fixed. Right now, I'm stressed about anything you can list I got it. I'm struggling with my lack of motivation.

I put on my "Gonna Run 2.14.09" Austin Marathon shirt this morning and ran in it hoping that seeing it in the mirror would give me a boost and it did and my run was great. But I needed something more, a bigger change.

So, off went the hair- again, since I've been keeping it short for the last 10 years. But this time I let the stylist decide. I actually asked, told, instructed. Edgy, updated, new, different, please?

For the first time in years I actually wore a decent shirt to work, put on some makeup and fixed my hair. This weight loss and training have given me that, confidence. I bundled up and strutted down the hall. Looking probably a little silly to others, out of place to some, but to myself...I felt good. Renewed and I hope this feeling sticks as I take on my 12 miler on Sunday.

False Start

After a false re-start of my marathon training last week, quite by accident I must say, I resumed my real training on Monday. My folks came up and spent a few days with me over Thanksgiving which created the pressure to exercise more than I had intended. Consequentially I lost two pounds while pigging out on gingerbread, oatmeal toffee cookies, and chocolate. Sigh, what a hard life.

But seriously, the strict scheduled exercise resumed on Monday and while last week's crazy exercise regime made it a fairly easy transition I must say psychologically I am not ready. The next two months will be super intense and I am shying from that strict regime. Early, early mornings are not my favorite things. I like to sleep in and sleep a lot. Every LSD run will be equivalent to the half marathon I just ran or more. It took me 3 days to want to run after that race, this time I don't have that kind of recovery time before I am scheduled to run again.

It seems daunting at this point and I am trying to avoid it, but I want to attempt Austin. I want to run a long race again. I want this for myself at this point, no one else. Everyone else would understand. My doctor just gave me a clean bill of health all I need to do is maintain.

Last night's Biggest Loser episode helped a little since it was the marathon week and it helped me remember the fun of the half marathon. It's the mornings I dread.

So here I go...for better or for worse, here I go.

The picts

The Race

Well the half marathon was on Sunday and what a wild, crazy weekend it proved to be. I was nervous, really nervous and honestly pretty scared. Saturday we met my grandparents for lunch, did a quick jaunt to the original Garden Ridge, picked up my race packet and ate some dinner. It was an early night for all of us (my folks and Lyndsey)We were in bed by 8:45p.m. with lights out. I was alseep by 8:46 p.m. Not one to sleep well away from home I slept like a log until 4 am, and prayed until my alarm went off at 4:45.

I asked God for the wisdom to know when to stop because I've been nursing this injury that sends excruciating pain down my leg. The kind of pain that little makes you cry out and hop around. My fear was from that, I kept wondering how long (mileage wise) it would take before it became dibilitating. So I prayed.

The line on the shuttle was almost as long as the race it seemed. The ride took about 40 minutes (I think our driver got confused and took us to the finish line first). We started on time for our corral (which was half hour after the initial start) and we were off. Slow and steady.

Mile two took us in front of the Alamo, I took a moment to enjoy that, but it's hard when you're running with 31,000 people to look at anything but what's directly in front of you. Dad quickly found someone to talk to for at least half a mile or so, then someone else and between talking, singing, and running backwards for the first 5 miles or so he managed to keep up with me.

Mile 5 ish brough a big hill and that finally shut us both up. I could feel myself losing my juice around mile 7 and looked forward to seeing Lyndsey and Mom at mile 8 for my gummy bears (my carb refuel of choice).

Problem is I missed seeing them. The mile was a winding narrow stretch and a great place for spectators. There were so many people lining the streets I coudn't see them. Apparently Dad did and threw his hat to them, but didn't bother mentioning seeing them to me.

So the only option was picking up a GU at mile 10 for my carb load. Now, GU is the consistency of thick icing, about 20 times sweeter, and sticks in your throat something fierce. It took about 5 minutes to feel the affects and I was restored.

Around mile 11 Dad needed to walk out some pain in his right knee. For some reason stopping to walk made my runner's knee flare up so I kept at a very slow jog next to him to make sure he was alright. I promised my mother we'd finish together...

He was able to continue so we slowly jogged to about the 12.5 mile mark where we repeated the walk/slow jog. That didn't last long and the man, a true Marine, sucked it up and ran the rest of the way, which included a very steep hill at the end, right next to me.

We came to top of the hill, and saw the finish line, rounded the last corner and began to go for it. All of the sudden I heard my name and looked. There yelling for us were Lyndsey and Mom. I smiled at them feeling like I could have gone forever and looked at my Dad. That was enough for him, he dug deep and began to speed up. I had to try to keep up with him.

We crossed that finish line together. Battle weary and worn but together. I learned on Sunday that I can do anything, my body was good to me because I had no pain the entire the run. It was my most enjoyable run ever. I learned when Dad needed to walk that being together and healthy is more important than the time on the clock.

I did this. We did this. I am a half-marathoner!

T Minus 5

It's Tuesday, 5 days until I run my half marathon. I am focusing on keeping my diet on target this week as Saturday's run was killer. Most likely a combination of several factors I believe the night before's dinner was a large contributor to a not so pleasant experience.

I am also icing my left foot and knee as often as I can when at home as the ache returned again on Saturday. I am a little nervous that running may be out completely if it doesn't figure itself out soon but I know panicking at this point isn't going to help.

Tonight I am "celebrating" my birthday with movies and pizza with my best friend. A quiet night that doesn't break my diet rules but gives me a chance to stay up late and sleep in- we are off from work tomorrow for Veteran's day. I have three miles to run tomorrow but the whole day to get it done so today made the most sense for celebrating.

We just have to see what the future holds for me and this running thing.

Don't Panic

Looking back last week seems so totally silly and proved to be an unnecessary stress. When will I ever learn this?

Three days now this week I have run with no pain in my foot, a little soreness (which is pretty normal) in my knee. In fact today, I even set a new PR for a 5K (3.1 miles). I have changed how aware of my body I am and my surroundings. I am deathly afraid of a mistep off the curbs, navigating our dog toy strewn living room in the dark to get some water, or other freak accidents that could take me out of the race next week.

I am ready to race it now but Saturday's 8 miler will have to do.

Patience is not a virtue

patience is not a virtue I have a lot of, it used to be but it exists no longer within the confines of this fleshy body.

It's been a long week that consisted of me barely finishing my 4 mile run yesterday. At about mile three the tears began to pour and I was thankful I had the gym to myself because the words that I spat at myself in that stupid wall sized mirror weren't cute or decent for another's ears.

I'm disappointed in myself, in my performance, in the recent surge of cravings I've been experiencing and my absolute no interest in eating the good stuff. I'm tired, no, I'm exhausted. I'm stressed, I'm excited and I hate waiting.

Perhaps that's why I am hurt. Yep, the foot thing. I forced myself to finish my run yesterday even though I was cursing myself quite loudly for being so stupid. See, even I knew it was bone headed move but I couldn't get my legs to stop.

Is is just the shoes? Am I risking a strain? Or even worse, a break? I don't know. There isn't any pain, it just swelled on Monday. I have no patience or time for this, doesn't my body know I race in 2 1/2 weeks, I wanna race tomorrow. I have to race, if I can't then what was the point of training 6 days a week and eating a bunch of crud that I hate?

Tomorrow is a nine miler and I am doing it on the ever boring treadmill. That way if something goes wrong I am close to home or can change out the shoes,if that's the problem.

You know you hear brides to be always saying, "I wish it were over" after getting to the point where planning is no longer fun and all the chaos has taken over. That's where I am, I wish I were racing tomorrow because I am more than prepared now. If my foot sits me out now, I won't be prepared then.

Undeniably Know

I undeniably know that I can finish a half marathon. This knowledge and confidence came at about 6:15 am last Friday as I jumped in the shower to clean up after a beautiful 12 mile nonstop run. I didn't bask in the knowledge, it wasn't a big revelation, instead I just smiled and sighed.
What a relief, but that's what training is for.

In the beginning I fought against the training regime, not necessarily on purpose, but I tried challenging myself further than instructed. Run faster, run harder, run more. About 4 weeks of that burned me out and I dug deep within to slow down, run easier and run the prescribed amount. I told myself that I had to trust the professionals, the people who do these things as a hobby and trust that I would be where I needed to be mentally, physically and emotionally for such a challenge.

I got up on the treadmill, started with a warm up mile at a slower speed and panicked. Running on a treadmill is boring and I hate it, not only was I attempting this at 4 am I was on a treadmill and I realized I forgot to turn on the tv. It was just me, the machine and my iPod for the next two hours. I breathed, relaxed and interestingly enough I loved every minute of my run. I don't remember those two hours at all, what I thought about, what I was looking at, or how I entertained myself. I just remember feeling the runner's high as each half mile ticked by.

I knew at mile 11 I had it in me to do 13.1 miles that morning and that's when I just knew. I can do this, I am in that "zone". To tell you the truth, I don't need to run in a couple weeks in San Antonio to prove it to myself or anyone else. I know how I felt, I know my condition and I know I can do it. There is nothing sweeter than knowing I have arrived. I crossed my finish line and if I never run again, I would be okay with that.

Will it be all or nothing?

It's been a long week, packed in between an awesome U2 concert, a long run, a 4 day birthday celebration for Lyndsey and a real effort to catch up on some sleep (sprinkle in some personal drama in the family).

Yesterday was the first I said the words outloud,"Maybe I shouldn't do the marathon." I weighed those words as they left my mouth against for any feeling of disappointment or shame I thought I might experience if I really do just "give up." None of those feelings existed but none of them existed I suspect because I am in pain.

My left knee caused me to cut my long run short on Saturday. I was scheduled to do an 11 miler, I had hoped to do 12 and make it all the way home but at 11 miles called Lyndsey and asked her to come get me. I couldn't feel my legs from the knees down.

I have suspected that my running gait was underpronation. Underpronation is when you step and your foot doesn't roll all the way in as it should, meaning the outside of your foot takes all the impact, weight and stress instead of properly distributing it. Overpronating means you roll your ankle in too much. There are some shoes that work better for my gait, they are expensive and I have avoided buying them...well, until yesterday.

Yesterday's run was especially painful. Except that it's funny that way the pain comes after the run. My running schedule is different this week, with higher miles during the week making up for previously scheduled Saturday when I will be out of town. So, it wasn't until I was trying to get up the stairs to our apartment that the pain hit me like a freight train.

Lyndsey picked me up at 10 and drove me to work and half way through the day I lay on the floor of our office and uttered those unavoidable words,"Maybe I shouldn't do a marathon." I could buy the new shoes (and I decided it was worth the try), I could go to the podiatrist and get some specialty orthotics and therapy to fix my runner's knee (a common ailment for runners) and still attempt the 26.2 mile run or I could quit entirely and hope to make it through the half marathon.

I'm not a quitter but I'm not stupid. If the shoes don't help I will revisit this decision, thankfully after yesterday's episode of defeat I know I won't be embarrassed or disappointed to say, "my body just won't let me." I did run 11 miles without stopping for goodness sake! But I also know there is a point where you ask how much is worth to invest all of this time, money, effort, etc into this dream, into this goal. My life isn't a movie where the budget is gigantic and my knees can be fixed after I've ruined them for life by a doctor played by Denzel Washington. This is my real life with limited budget, time, and I'd like to be able to use my knees after February's race. I'd like to walk down stairs and not wince, and drive myself to work without a chauffer.

Will it be all or nothing? I believe even if I do "quit" I can never really say that it was "nothing".

It's Officially Official

The last thing on my "to do" list on Friday was to check the mail before I headed to visit my folks for the weekend. Inside there was a package, a package that made my heart jump...it had arrived. The cherry on top that made this crazy journey a reality, it was my Austin Marathon training shirt. I am so excited and of course, it's super cool (okay, maybe not but it looks that way to me).

My 10 miler on Saturday wasn't noteworthy except that I survived it feeling pretty good. I ran on the road my parent's live on, named after my grandparents. The going was easy the coming back was into the north wind and slowed me down. 5 1/2 laps and I was done.

I also found out it's official now that my Dad will be running with me in the half marathon next month. I can't tell you how excited I am about that. I think he'll leave me in the dust pace wise but after discussion I have the edge on endurance.

I am concentrating now I really creating a healthy training routine. Really nailing the right foods, getting rid of the processed crud, monitoring my sleep (sorry if that means I can't do much in the evenings late) and resting. It's crunch time people and I can't tell you how great it feels.

Three Day Weekend

God Bless, Columbus! He was a horrid little man and someone named Amerigo got the country named after him and Leif Erikson was the first discoverer of the New World but Columbus gives me a three day weekend and for that I say, "thank you."

While that means I get three consecutive days off from work I do not get a break from running. Tomorrow is a ten miler and Monday only four. I am gaining momentum as the half marathon quickly approaches. I am disappointed I will miss getting to watch the Chicago Marathon this Sunday as I am headed to the boondocks but in my own way I'll be running my own mini-marathon. What's better than first hand experience?

Today was the first day on my bike in a number of days. Races throw my weekly schedule off since they are mostly scheduled for my off days. But another bless is television on my laptop for free, they get me through long hard biking days when I would like nothing more than to sleep.

So again, Thank you, Mr. Columbus for nothing more than being overcredited for someone else's work and giving me a three day holiday!

Just another Day

It's just another day, in just another week of training. I got up and weight trained and then ran a very nice and easy 3 which gave me the runner's high for about 4 hours following it. I love that feeling and had never experienced it before a couple of months ago. It suppresses your appetite and is an unexplainable sense of energy that just makes you feel, how I imagine, high.

This weekend my mileage increases to 10 miles, then next 11 and then 12. It will then taper down for two weeks following before the big 13.1 in San Antonio. I am getting more and more excited as I do these longer and longer runs. By no means am I fast but to actually say I ran 9 miles on Sunday and to know inside I could've gone all 13 and not died, is an amazing feeling.

I am literally in awe of myself and not in the vain way, in the the sense that I really can't believe that I am, barring no injuries, going to complete one of those unthinkable, unimaginable goals that seems so unattainable before all of this. The reality that I am doing it, completing it, actually training for it, not just saying ,"one day maybe", but actually doing it is setting in and I'm excited!

Race for the Cure

A number of years ago my aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer. Breast cancer awareness was gaining momentum and the Susan Komen foundation was beginning to churn out pink items in every genre trying to raise money. As in everything you begin to pay attention, but you don't pay enough attention until it literally hits home.

Having beat the cancer and becoming a survivor, almost two years ago they discovered it had come back but in the colon. Perhaps, this struck enough fear in my heart to know that when the doctor said jump, I didn't question the consequences of ignoring her orders.

Last year I practiced walking the Houston Race for the Cure 5K (3.1 miles), this year I ran it. I didn't set a world record, I didn't raise the most money, heck I didn't even come in second but for me this race was to honor my aunt, to celebrate life, and to support all of those out there struggling against an unseen disease, illness, or evil.

Because that's what cancer, genetic conditions, mental illness, etc. are, unseen and incredibly scary. I enjoyed my short (in comparison to what's coming next month) race, I loved the experience and I learned some things for the next race: don't eat so early and take water with you to the start line. We stood around for an hour before it even began I was thirsty and hungry. Something I still haven't learned: pace myself.

Peace and prayers.

2 or 3

This one will be short. I woke up earlier than I had hoped and again I wrangled with the idea of running this evening instead of the morning.

5 minutes later, legs pumping my biggest choice was whether to do 2 or 3 miles. My schedule said 3 but I was worried about needing to conserve energy. Now for those of you active people a 3.1 race seems small and not really a race where I need to conserve energy before running it but you have to understand I am still fat in my mind.

On the way home from doggie barfy dinner the other night Lyndsey reminded me that last year when i walked this race I actually practiced, anxious that I wouldn't be able to do it very well or quickly. So for me, the perspective is lost on me.

I did the 3.1 this morning as fast as I felt I was able to not burn out at the end. It took a little over 26 minutes which is decent for me. Should I have done less? I dunno know but I am glad I did the three, it just feels good to know I didn't sell myself short.

I don't wanna

Urg, let me begin by saying last night was not fun. After a 5 mile run, a full day at the office, and returning home to find out my roommate hadn't had dinner yet because she had been cleaning up doggie puke since she got home (almost 3 hours earlier), I drove her out to the outskirts of town for dinner. Hey, she deserved it.

She thought she had checked everywhere for more spots and was confident it was all up until I went to bed and discovered doggie sicky on my bed and pillow and comforter.

So, needless to say neither of us slept well. (her bed had been covered in doggie stuff too)

I slept until I couldn't sleep anymore, got up and made up the beds since they had dried, ate some breakfast and decided I would run as planned this morning instead of this evening (i was betting I would be too tired by the end of the day- and I was right).

But this morning's run, a 5 miler, seemed especially hard. I ran around our big city block 2 1/2 times to make my 5 miles and every step I just wished I were back in bed, surrounded by the warmth of my clean, fresh sheets or at least on the couch icing my knees.

It's hard to make yourself workout sometimes, it's hard to find the will to sweat and huff and puff while people on the street walk or drive by staring at you like you're crazy. I always think to myself when I catch someone staring," yeah, that's right some of us do this for fun."

Fun?! Who am I kidding,this morning I did it because I ate way to much stuff last night celebrating. Celebrating? Yeah, we decided to call last nights impromptu dinner my 1 year anniversary 100 pounds lost dinner instead of "you just spent all evening cleaning up doggie puke" dinner. It just had a better ring to it.

So, in closing, I am tired. But not in pain, I didn't wanna run those 5 miles but can at least feel accomplished in knowing I did. Why this morning I woke up and finally bought myself a hydration belt to start practicing with on Sunday during my long run.

But short term, well tomorrow is a short 2 miler that I may make a 3 and then Saturday I'm off for my 5K. Next up will be the Human Race on October 24. Anyone can participate at any time, anywhere on that day. All you need is the Nike plus gear, run a 6K, log it in and you've participated.

As for staying here at work another moment longer," I don't wanna," so good night.

Weighing In

Tuesdays and Fridays are my cross training days. That usually means I get up at 6 am, hit the gym and lift weights for about 1/2 an hour and then come back home to ride my stationary bike at hardest level for 35 minutes. It's a sweat maker, and when I was trying to lose weight it was pretty disgusting.

Every other Tuesday's routine is a little bit different because it involves my two week weigh in. While losing weight I weighed myself almost every day, then toward the end I cut that back to every few days and now every two weeks. This allows me to learn to relax a little about my weight, yet allows me to keep a good eye on it. It also lets me see how one or two more indulgent days balances out with the other pretty darn good days.

So today was a weigh in day and since Sunday will be the one year anniversary of the beginning of all of this I secretly was anxious. I went to bed early as I was tired and got a great night's sleep. I relaxed more this weekend than I had previously so my stress level bottomed out, so I got up at 6 am and stepped on the scale and the result was amazing.

Nearly a four pound drop. Anyone who doubts what too much sodium, stress, lack of sleep and girly hormones can do to body here is the proof. I dropped almost four pounds once those factors were taken out of the equation which brought my total to 100 pounds EXACTLY with 5 days to spare.

I didn't set out to hit this goal, I honestly told myself in the beginning that it would be a miracle to fit into a size 16 pants or hit 165. Once I reached the doctor's goal weight I was pretty satisfied but started thinking maybe a 100 wouldn't be so bad. But I really didn't try, in fact I began and continue to eat more and exercise less (believe it or not, or at least less intensely).

But I did it. I did it. And honestly, you need to pinch me cause I can't believe it.

I now know I can run a half marathon and survive, I now know I can lose 100 pounds and be happier, and I now know I can do anything I set my mind to and that, to me, is priceless.

Day in the Sun

After my screw up on Saturday I was ready for my rest day on Sunday. To tell the complete truth I was dreading getting out of bed on Sunday, not because it was my day of rest, but because I couldn't help thinking about how I overdid it on Saturday and every part of my body was going to hurt.

Mentally, I resolved myself to an early morning ice bath. Not my favorite way to start the day but I was expecting to basically lay in the fetal position all day cursing again my stupidity for a different reason. Because I hurt.

Instead, I put both feet on the ground and made my way to the bathroom. From there I was off, almost in a sprint, to the kitchen where I was warmly received by our dogs and Lyndsey. I couldn't believe it, despite a little soreness in my left quad from the legpress on Friday (which is totally normal) nothing else hurt.

Really? Really? I thought I must be dreaming. I must still be in bed with my eyes clothes busily snoring away and this has to be some kind of fantastic dream. But it wasn't, it was reality and by 10 am we had done our grocery shopping and were home.

By 1:30 p.m. I was covered in sunscreen and relaxing by our pool. I soaked in the sun and thanked God that I didn't have to run and that I wasn't in pain. I will admit I didn't take a complete day off, I did water run for 15 minutes to keep my muscles loose and what do you know!

My run this morning was the easiest, most fun, least painful Monday run I have had since the first week. Must be something in the water!

A day in the sun was a perfect way to begin this week. It's an easy run week as my 5K is this Saturday, the first of my three races. I am still toying with going all out and trying to run as fast as possible or sit back and enjoy it, while learning the ropes.

Back in May when I decided I would run this race this year instead of walking it like last year 3.1 miles didn't seem too hard or long, but it still seemed kind of big for me. Funny, how after a 10 mile run where I felt like I could have gone forever, 3 miles seems so insignificant.

But it's not insignificant I know, I fought tooth and nail to be able to complete this weekend's 5K and I'll be just as proud of myself when I cross the finish line this Saturday as I will in February.

And when it's all over and done, it will be followed by a day in the sun.

Mind Over Matter or in Other Words, Stupidity

Mind over matter, as I had discovered in weight loss, that if your mind thinks it can your body just follows. I often say that the easy part was the physical, well today that wasn't exactly true.

Today was the day of my first seven miler. I had been looking forward to the extra distance but have to admit I was anxious. So much so that I barely slept last night and was up at 4 am to eat. A good rule of thumb is to eat an hour at least before you run your long runs but the truth is carbs get stored 1 to 2 hours after eating. I figured I would be running by 6 am and that was close enough to the window that I would be okay.

And I was. It wasn't the food or the company, my roommate Lyndsey got up to run with me- yep, I got her hooked, and it wasn't the weather. It was my knee. Apparently in women runner it's common to have pain in the sides of your knees if you run a more than 10 minute mile. I generally don't run a 10 minute mile, I am typically between 8:30 and 9 minutes but the point of LSD's are to run 1-2 minutes slower than usual which gives me over a 10 minute mile.

So here's the conundrum, run slow as I am supposed to and experience bone breaking excruciating pain in my knee or run faster and burn out way too soon. The pain in my knees didn't start until two weeks ago. I know it's not an injury, injury because one day my left knee hurts and the next it will be my right. This morning it was my right one.

First I woke up at 4 am with an awful charley horse in my right calf, then after massaging it I ate and tried to go back to slow with no success. We got to the park, walked a little, began to jog. It hurt pretty bad but I kept going, then it loosened and the rest of my miler with Lyndsey seemed fine.

At mile 3.5 the pain in my knee became so unbearable I felt like I was running on a broken leg and at 3.68 I stopped. Hurting physically but hurting emotionally. I was disappointed. I wanted seven and I didn't want to stop until I got seven. I hobbled back the direction of the car and met up with Lyndsey. She graciously walked with me another mile or so, since my knee felt better walking than running, because they recommend you at least go the distance if possible.

We returned to the car and I lost it. I will admit I was a child, I threw a tantum due to my humiliation, my disappointment and my own immaturity. I told her to stop the car I was walking home (though by now walking was almost impossible for me). I got out and hobbled away, shaking my head in disgust that I was hurt and it had prevented me from succeeding.

A few more steps and I couldn't stand the humiliation of walking while all the runners sprinted by, so I stepped out and winced in pain. The I jogged, agony. I kept jogging, thinking pick up the pace it won't hurt. 3.5 miles more that's it. Lyndsey was long gone because it was a one way street with no turn around so I headed toward home.

No phone. I knew I was up a creek if it began to hurt more, no way to reach her. I knew she would be scare and I knew I was stupid but that person inside would not let me stop.

I ran, jogged, and at the early points almost crawled the rest of the way home. All 7.08 miles of it. Honestly, by mile 3.68 this time my knee felt brand new, my pace was so good I wasn't breathing hard and I knew I could finish it out.

The downside during my moment of feeling victorious was I knew Lyndsey was out there searching for me, she thought I could barely walk. She was looking for a limp. She passed me in the car as I took our normal route home but didn't see me as she was looking for someone limping.

I made it all the way home to remember I was locked out, she had the key. A quick dash into the apartment complex's pool bathroom gave me a little relief, but then there I was with no water, no shower access, no food sitting on the steps hoping she would come home. My heart broke because I knew she was circling and circling and freaking out. I was drenched in sweat waiting and about 10 minutes later she pulls up, bursts in to tears and lets me inside.

Mind over matter? Not really. Stubbornness, selfishness, and just plain cruelty. I got my seven miles, in fact in total I got over 10, but the cost of stupidity is high for me to ever pay again.

Pace Yourself

The first six weeks of training were glorious. I felt eager, anxious, accomplished, educated and proud. It's a learning process much like everything else. Any sport I ever played demanded quick sprints, not endurance running. The goal was to always finish hard and finish fast, not conserve your energy and pace yourself.

Pace yourself.

Hmm, ever really stopped to think about that first word? Pace. Despite 8 weeks of experience in training thus far I still haven't really understood that word or that phrase,"pace yourself."

The goal in marathon training is to run slow, or at least it is for beginners whose only goal is just to finish. Alive. Most training schedules call for 4 run days a week. An easy day, a tempo day, a speed day and a long slow day (LSD). Easy is self explanatory I think (you should be able to have a conversation while you run, tempo is running a majority of your miles for that day at a pace that is challenging but doable (you should want to quit but be able to keep going), speed day or other (like incline) consists of Fartleks (most people call them intervals) shorter distances at higher speeds like sprinting or practicing hill running, and long slow days that consist of running longer distances at a much slower pace.

How hard is that? Hard or at least for an intense personality like me. It's not easy to lay back and jog, my muscles want to work harder, my watch tells me I want to finish earlier, my mind doesn't understand "slow down."

I began this post by talking about the first six weeks being enjoyable though I am eight weeks in because the last two weeks I have been struggling. In my head I have quit like ten times, I am not finding my runs very fun, I am not sleeping because I am anxious about having enough time to get my work out in and finish all the other things going on in my life and I am stressed out.

Running was at first my place to be quiet, sort all of these things out, listen to the rhythmic breathing in my lungs and the thudding of my heart. It soothed me, it calmed me, it gave me joy.

Last week that all changed. I can't put my finger on what exactly changed it but it changed. What I do know is that my entire life right now isn't following the rule of "pace yourself." I am too busy looking for an answer, too busy trying to find a solution, too stressed to want to lay back and just let the training take me where I need to go.

It's just a 5k next weekend, then I have six weeks before the half marathon I plan to run the weekend of my birthday, and then 8 weeks before the big one. I should trust the training, I should trust there are enough hours in the day to run, I should just take one breath at a time and put one foot in front of the other.

How do you pace yourself? I'd really like to know in earnest because right now I am at such a crossroads that it feels like it should be all or nothing.

In the Beginning

In the beginning God created man and runners have an inside joke that on the seventh day God ran an easy 3.

It is phrase found on many a t-shirt, mug, sticker or whatever you'd like if you want to search for at at www.cafepress.com. I didn't really get it until I began training for my first, and most likely only, full marathon in Austin, Tx, next Valentine's Day.

Like any training regime there is a lot more work that goes into the decision and preparation for the actual event than just the training itself. For example, after being diagnosed with a little known condition called Insulin Resistance a year ago next week I had to lose almost 100 pounds to get myself back in the "healthy" and "normal" weight group. I spent the last 11 months working out six days a week for one to one and half hours each day, cutting back my caloric intake and changing what I eat daily.

The result has been good, strike that. The result has been great and led me to seriously consider running a full marathon in May. The thought kept creeping around my head because as I lost the weight, I gained perspective. Instead of looking at challenging and rolling my eyes in the knowledge that I would never achieve them I started saying to myself, "why not?"

"Why not try?" I asked myself 8 weeks ago. I had been running consistently for a number of months, on and off between a case of tendinitis that would flare up from time to time. Why couldn't I at least commit to training for a marathon.

My father is a marathon runner, in fact he's run an ultramarathon, and I've heard his stories and never once did the idea of attempting one appeal to me. As I said though, the "how couldI" became "why not".

I committed to trying and I say it this way because in life there are no guarantees. I have learned in the past year than life is more mental than anything else, as is weight loss, as is training for a 26.2 mile run. I know that if my mind will go there my body will follow, unfortunately, though the mind doesn't have control over injuries or burnout.

Coming to accept that while I can commit to training I cannot guarantee participation or even successful finish. My goal is just that. To finish, whether I run, walk or crawl I want to cross that finish line barring any serious injury.

So, here I go. My first goal may be reached next Saturday as I run in the Race for the Cure Houston 5k. A small goal in terms of a marathon but a gigantic goal for me as last year on the exact same weekend I was only able to walk the race. I had been diagnosed the day before and woke up the morning of the 2008 race with a journey before me. This year, I return running. In the best shape I have been in since I was probably 12 years old.

In life it's always one foot in front of the other. Here's to the first step and next Saturday's easy 3.