How to Mess Up a Perfectly Good Saturday Run (and ache for days afterward)

After several years as a runner, I should know that my performance on a run depends as much on my mental state as my physical state.  I should know this.  I never seem to really remember it, though.

I do my long runs on Saturday.  I wake up early.  I head out no between 6:30 and 7, so that I am finished no later than 9.  Amy respects my need to run, but I don’t want to make the whole family’s Saturday revolve around my running schedule.

I started feeling a sneaking dread about last Saturday’s run on Friday night.  I felt tired.  I didn’t want to blog.  I didn’t want to do anything.  In fact, I laid about on the couch from the time Janie went to bed until I went to bed playing the free version of Scrabble on my phone.  That’s right… I don’t care enough to buy the actual app, yet I wasted an entire night messing around with my online Scrabble opponents.

Maybe dread is too strong a word.  It was really more like apathy.  I didn’t want to do a long run.  I hadn’t run more than 5 miles a pop for more than two weeks, and I felt ambivalent at best about putting forth the amount of energy a 13.1 mile run takes.  So, I kept hitting snooze on my alarm.  Even though I knew I needed to get up and eat, so I could get out of the house on time.  Even though I could smell the brewed coffee waiting for me in the kitchen.  Snooze.

All this is a long lead in to say that, while I made decent time on my Saturday run, it was painful.  In fact, I decided to cut my run down to a 10 miler, because my right calf began cramping around mile 8 and my left quad tightened a bit more with each mile.  And my knees felt every connection with the pavement.  I am not fan of stopping short of my mileage goal on a run, but I also know running shouldn’t hurt.  Especially not in a training run.  A stubbornness inflicted injury also would not get much sympathy from Amy.

Why all the aches and pains?  Remember that apathy/dread I mentioned?  It manifested itself in tension in all my muscles, an obsession with my pacing, and a bizarre (and misguided) need to push off with my calves to gain speed.  My head just wasn’t where it needed to be, and my body responded by completely freaking out.

I am actually looking forward to this Saturday’s run.  My calves finally feel normal again (I could barely walk for two dang days), and I am excited to see what I can do out there.  And this is a much better way to approach a run.

13.1 miles.  Bring it.

Five Fingers Debut

Over the Christmas holiday, I bought a pair of Vibram Five Fingers.

I know, I know.  I had a hard time admitting that I wanted a pair.  But, after reading Born to Run, I felt like giving my feet and legs a chance to perform more naturally could really enhance my running.  And the idea that a barefoot-like experience could help my feet naturally rebuild their arches got to me.  One of my arches collapsed when I was about 13–completely excruciating pain.  Over 20 years later, I still cannot relax enough to get a decent foot rub for fear someone will accidentally touch my arch.  And Jane once swung her little foot around and landed it right on my arch, and I almost puked.  So, yeah, if my arches could be less sucky, that would rock.

Since I have a  race coming up in March, I am leery of overdoing the Five Fingers.  I have heard that too much mileage too quickly can really trash a runner’s legs.  So, I opted just to wear them to the gym for their inaugural outing.

Now, I will freely admit that for whatever benefits they may offer, these things sure are crazy looking:

When I walked into the YMCA today, people could not stop staring.  Truly.  As I was dropping Jane off at the childcare area, a woman stopped me to ask me if I ran in those (as she pointed to my shoes).  I gave her too much credit and actually assumed she wanted a real answer.  But as soon as I said, “Well, not really…”  She jumped in with “Well, why are you wearing them then??”  Okay, Captain Combative… Do I really owe you an explanation for my footwear?  Then she proceeded to (very loudly) discuss with the woman next to her how much shoes like that cost.  Lovely.

After the initial encounter with a rather confused public regarding my choice of footwear, I made it into the gym and actually began working out in the Five Fingers.  Um… RAD.  I could feel the muscles in my feet and legs working as I went through my routine.  Heck, I could even see the muscles in my legs responding differently.  And I was comfortable.  I felt athletic… and natural, somehow.

I guess I will get used to people staring, because the Five Fingers will be making a regular appearance at the Y.  And I am hoping next week to ease them into a short run on one of my off days.  I really didn’t foresee crushing this hard on these crazy shoes.  But the three year old at the Y really got me (and the shoes)… he squatted down in front of me and petted them lovingly.  His horrified mom could barely drag him away.  And the whole way out, he kept talking about the shoes with the toes (over and over again).  Yeah, little dude, I totally know where you are coming from.

And Everyone Breathed a Collective Sigh of Relief…

Yesterday I ran for the first time in almost a week.  Since running replaces therapy for me, no one really wants me to go that long without a run.  I get edgy.  And my head starts freaking out and bombarding me with words like “bad,” “can’t,” “won’t ever”…

Does a run fix all that?  In one word:  yes.

But… the first run back after a hiatus of any kind (and yes, even less than a week counts) is pretty darn painful.  And I had been really sick.  So, I promised myself I would just do an easy 5k to get back into it.  Easy, my butt.  There was nothing easy about that run.  My lungs felt a bit wheezy.  I got tired about a mile in.  I felt like I was running through watered down Jello.  But I did it.  And I still completed the 5k distance in less time than I used to run a 5k on race days.

M0st importantly, though, it was easier to smile at my daughter and mean it after my run.  For Jane and I, there was more singing, more dancing, more giggling yesterday than there had been in almost a week.  And that is worth all the effort I had to put into that run.

 

 

Croom Zoom 2012

Sunday morning, at 4:00 a.m., my alarm went off.  I groaned and hit snooze.  Then I startled awake.  The Croom Zoom, my first 25k, started in 3 hours, and I had only a vague idea of how to get to the race site in the Withlacoochee State Forest (yes, that is totally a real place).

I scrambled into the kitchen to slurp down some coffee and eat a piece of peanut butter toast while I checked the weather forecast.  In the low 30s for the first part of the race.  Oh. my. Lord.  I put on the warmest running gear I have (which isn’t really all that warm until about 5 miles in) and zipped out of the house for the hour ride up to Brooksville, Florida.

I have driven by Brooksville about a hundred times headed north on I-75.  But when Google Maps told me to take a small highway road up to Brooksville instead, I just assumed the good folks at Google knew better than I did.  So, at 5:00 a.m., I found myself driving in the pitch black through areas that looked like they might have been the inspiration for Deliverance.  I had pre-race jitters; I had lost-in-the-middle-of-nowhere jitters.  And I really had to pee.  But there was nowhere to stop.  And I do mean nowhere.  All the gas stations were closed.  Even the Wal-Mart had so few cars that I felt sketched out about swinging in for a potty break.  And, remember, I had slurped down that coffee and a healthy amount of water before I left the house.  So, I spent the last 20 minutes of the ride praying that I wouldn’t pee on myself before I got there.

I turned off of the little highway onto a littler county road that my map said would lead me straight into the park.  I kept peering to the right and the left, into the pitch black, looking for a park sign.  It was already 6:15.  My race started at 7, and I couldn’t find the damn…

And, suddenly, I was on a dirt road.

I just kept driving, hoping I was headed in the right direction.  My dot on Google Maps was still on course–but did I mention I was on a dirt road?!?

And then I saw him–the traffic directing guy.  He was shivering in the cold.  Uh… that didn’t seem like a good sign.  I parked, opened my door… and shut it again.  DANG.  I steeled myself, opened the door again and hopped out just in time to be greeted by a string of profanity from the guy parked next to me… something about Florida…damn cold…someone’s mother…something, something.  As interesting as his diatribe was, I needed to pick up my race packet, finally pee, and strip off my warm sweat pants and fleece and stand around in lycra running garb.  And freeze.

I did all of those things.  In that order.  I have never wanted a race to begin so badly.  I was so cold that I forgot to be nervous.  No joke.  And I am totally valedictorian of being nervous.

The airhorn went off, and all the 25k runners set off down a limestone road.  We did 3.5 miles on that road.  At mile 1.5, I realized that my hands were achingly cold.  At mile 1.8, I felt like nails were being driven through my thumbnails, and I noticed–with great alarm–that it took tremendous effort to move my fingers.  At mile 2.0, I began to seriously concern myself with frostbite.  I thought for a few minutes about quitting then and there.  No kidding.  I don’t remember ever being in that much pain from the cold.

By mile 3, I didn’t remember that my hands had ever hurt at all.  But I did realize that my Gu was too cold to be gooey.  Instead, eating it was like breaking off pieces of chewing gum and swallowing them whole.  Thank goodness I had plenty of water in my Camelback to negotiate that mess.

I finished my Gu just in time to turn onto the trail and realize that my shoes were tied too loosely for trail running.  Oh, and I was running in my old running shoes that have next to no tread left on them.  Awesome planning.  I ran for a bit and found myself at the start point again, right before the start of the 10 mile trail loop, where I stopped to tie my shoes.  I hate stopping while I am running, but the retying of the shoes seemed like a necessity, lest I fall and bust my booty on this run.

Which I did.  At mile 7.  I swear, I have no idea what happened.  I was running; I must have drifted off into thought. Then I felt it… My feet tangled, and I knew I was going down.  I had just enough time to think,  “this is going to hurt,” before I hit the ground with a thud.  The guy running behind me (he was a ways back when I fell) asked if I was okay.  I hopped up to show him I was alright–I didn’t want him to break his stride too much for me–and took off running.  Both my knees were super sore.  I was dirty.  But I knew I could keep going.  Hey, it was either that or walk the last 8 miles.  No one was going to carry me out of that forest.

I hadn’t set a goal time for the run. But I did promise myself I would run all 15 miles.  And I did.  I finished the race in 2:47:21 with a Gu wrapper stuck to my hand (since mile 10) feeling like a badass.

BAD.ASS.

I am more in love with running than ever before.  Crazy, right?  And I am totally hoping to fit in another trail run during this running season… but maybe in April when it is just a smidge warmer.  I am totally a Florida girl, no matter how badass I am.

Ilene (get it?)

I am lopsided.  Right now, my pelvis tilts slightly down to the right, making my left leg longer than my right.  This causes some serious issues when I run.  Simply put:  my knee hurts and my lower back pulls constantly.  I skipped my run today, for fear that I would cause damage right before the 25k this weekend.  (I should totally get a gold star for being responsible enough to skip a run.  Who is in charge of the gold stars, anyway?)

And, before you get all up on your high horse, you foes of running:  running doesn’t throw my back out.  It has always been weak and prone to aches, pains and compression.  But, now I have an 11 month old monkey clinging to me a large majority of the time.  Kind of throws a kink in my posture, you know?

I am really looking forward to the visit to the chiropractor tomorrow to sort all this out.  And that will give me two more short runs before my rest day on Saturday.

I am really excited about this 25k.  Running in the woods–and trying not to fall flat on my face–has a zen kind of quality.  And, trail races make me feel pretty badass.  Oh, AND I get to wear my red & yellow trail shoes!

Yep, I am definitely ready to get rid of this nagging pain so I can focus on the awesomeness of this Sunday’s Croom Zoom.

Zoom-zoom.

Good, Bad & Crazy…

Good news:

The lasagna qualified as normal!  In fact, Amy said she even forgot that the tofu ricotta wasn’t real cheese.  (I think she may have been exaggerating on that one, but I will take it).  Honestly, I am a bit surprised the lasagna turned out as well as it did.  I sauteed the onions, herbs and garlic to the sweet melody of a baby screaming bloody murder from her Pack ‘n Play (which was 3 feet from me, by the way).  I ran out of oregano and basil in the middle of cooking and had to take a fun little jaunt to the store (where I had already been not even two hours before).  Oh, and the the recipe was for spinach lasagna.  Um.  Yeah.  I forgot the spinach.  But it was recognizable as lasagna, and that is what counts–at least for today.

Bad News:

This week, Jane can’t seem to nap.  She falls asleep while I am nursing her (like she always does), but then she wakes up when I put her in her crib.  Typically, this scenario would mean about 15 minutes of crying before she fell asleep.  This week, though, it means crying for 5 minutes and intermittent crying and playing for the next 55 minutes.  That’s right… for one whole hour, she refuses to sleep.  Consequently, she exhibits sleepytime behavior not even an hour after her non-nap has ended.  This is crazymaking.  For both of us.

Crazy News:

I signed up for the Croom Zoom on January 15th.  A 25k trail run.  I am extremely excited.  What?  I told you it was crazy news.

Simple Pleasures

Today… I ran.

Thank the Good Lord.

It had been 7 full days since my last run.  Most of those days, I was too overrun by the plague, and taking care of Jane (who has an ear infection), to really lament my missing runs.  But by Monday, I was Cranky McCrankerpants.  I wanted to run, but I just wasn’t sure my body could handle it without going into meltdown mode… and reinfecting itself with the plague.  Normally, I would be willing to take such a risk.  But we have a big trip planned to visit a certain mouse this week, and I couldn’t risk getting sick again.

But today… today I threw caution to the wind, tied on my running shoes, and Jane and I headed out.

It was a slow run.  I only did a 5K.  But it was the most relaxing run I have taken in a while.  It made me remember what is fun about running… how free I feel, how light.  I get to just be.  Not be someone’s mom.  Not be someone’s partner.  Just be.

Glorious.  Truly.

Parenting, Running & Pizza–This Post Has It ALL!

Three tidbits for your reading pleasure:

1) In a lame parenting moment, I told Amy to mix some brown rice from the refrigerator into Jane’s tomato & carrot baby food.  Neither one of us could figure out Jane’s lackluster response to dinner, even though she usually practically makes out with the tomato & carrot combo.  As I was cleaning up after dinner, I realized that the rice was hard as a rock.  Seems as though you have to actually warm up cold rice for it to be edible.  Poor monkey.  She got a consolation dinner of plain yogurt.  This development pleased her.

2) Jane and I did some speed work on our run today.  Earlier in the week, I had to deal with some frustration in trying to get a midfoot strike going.  After watching a couple videos, I could finally visualize what I needed to do.  So, armed with my new knowledge (and with a much more successful run on Wednesday buoying my confidence), I decided to work on my speed.  I have never done speed work before.  My running has always been about making sure I could cover the distance.  My time just naturally improved with practice.  But, since I want to be more serious about my training, speed work seemed in order.  I did the first 2K at a very easy pace.  I went all out for 1K.  Went to an easy run for 1K, and finished out with an all out for the last 1K.  Then I took my time with the last two miles.  All in all, pretty successful.  Jane slept through the whole thing.

3) Our new favorite pizza:  wheat crust from Whole Foods, pizza sauce from Publix, Gimme Lean veggie sausage, mushrooms and green olives.  Amy’s half is missing the sausage but has cheese.  This pizza is for real good.  Every time we make it, I find that my half just doesn’t seem like enough.  It is that delicious.  Good thing for Ames her half has cheese; otherwise, I couldn’t make any promises….

Stride Right

Since the half-marathon, I have run 3 times.

The first time, I felt like I might die.  Each step felt like a sledgehammer pounding my joints.  My left knee hurt.  I had no energy.  My calf muscles felt so taut they might snap.  3.1 miles stretched out endlessly.  As I struggled to finish the last .5 miles, I remembered that the photo taken of me during the final sprint of the half-marathon showed me blatantly heel striking.  Blatantly.  So, I thought I would switch up my stride.  Born to Run describes running with short, quick steps, of course with a midfoot or forefoot strike, so I thought I would give it a shot.  And… the running got easier.  And I got quicker.  Just for that last half mile.

I kind of figured it was a fluke.  Maybe I just changed my attitude.  Maybe I caught a second wind.  Or maybe… maybe… it was the stride?

My second run was on Thanksgiving.  I just need to pause to tell you that I never thought I would choose to run on Thanksgiving.  Running has become my idea of relaxation; it is what I do on vacation.  Weird.  Anyway, I ran four miles with those little bitty strides.  My run was pain free.  And quick.  For me, at least.  I could kind of just zone out and cruise along.  Such a huge change from that first run.

I did the third run today.  6 miles.  Might have been the fastest I have ever run 6 miles.  If not, it was darn close.  Again, I used those itty bitty strides.  I kept my feet under my hips, and I zipped right along.  Crazy how much a stride can effect my perceived effort output (something discussed in Chi Running–which I have yet to finish.  But it is next on my list!).

These new developments have cemented my decision to run the Gasparilla Half-Marathon in March 2012.  Bring it on, I say.

Universal rules are universal?

Universal rules apply to me.

I struggle with this lesson.  

For the first hour or so of labor, I wondered what women complained about so much.  4 more hours and an epidural later, I completely got it.  Turns out labor hurts.  For everyone.  Even me.

When my Iron-Man-completing-friend told me to watch my pace during my first half-marathon, to keep it steady because mile 8 would be the physical halfway mark, I truly did heed his wise counsel.  Until race day.  Then, as I began to run, I thought I would run at my 15k speed.  Surely, I could manage that speed the whole way.  Surely, I wouldn’t bonk.  Because I am different from other runners.

Universal rules apply to me. (See how I am repeating this mantra?)

The half-marathon truly was a phenomenal experience.  I covered the distance 3 minutes faster than I did during my training runs.  I pushed myself as hard as I could go.  And, let’s be honest, running 13.1 miles isn’t a small feat.  I am pleased with my performance.  And I feel accomplished.

But I did learn some things (see mantra above): 

1.  I should have run a bit slower at the outset; I could have maintained a slightly slower pace consistently throughout the race.  As it was, I had to walk in short intervals after mile 10.5.  I dislike walking during a race.  It feels like a letdown.

2.  I need to stay where my Brooks are.  I lost heart when I looked up and saw how much distance I had to cover to make it past the next landmark.  Every second counts, and every second can feel like a battle during a 13.1 mile run, so I need to stay in the present.

3.  The battle comment above denotes a problem in perspective.  Battling the pain is counterproductive.  I need to find a way to welcome it and push through it.

4.  I will train harder for my next race.  I felt confident until mile 10 because I had run that distance so often, and I knew exactly how hard I could push up to that point.  I overestimated how hard I could push for 13.1, because I wanted to be faster.  Oops.  Can’t decide I want to be faster on race day. The time for that kind of decision passed about 16 weeks before race day.

5.  I can’t sprint 1.1 miles.  Not after already running 12.  It doesn’t matter how bad I want it.  My only regret about this race is having to walk for a short stretch during the last 1.1 because I tried to sprint the whole way, and there was just not enough reserve energy to pull from.  

But the biggest lesson I learned is that I just love to run.  I know I will improve.  And I am really proud of my 2:16:37 for my first half.  And now I can try that barefoot running bit…