Wednesday, November 18, 2009
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!
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!
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
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.
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.
Friday, October 30, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, October 26, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
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".
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".
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