Out for Blooooooood

It's been almost a week, I know, I know. Oops.

Quickly then, I'll just say the 5K was a good run, generally fun, though mostly uphill which kind of sucked. But our time was right about the same as the last one, which had been mostly downhill (maybe even better if it hadn't been for awful cramps in Kelly's stomach and calf that required a few minutes' walking). Surely this is a sign of improvement. Adam finished in a little over 26 minutes, very respectable for one who hasn't been racing in years, although he is 6' 3" with very long legs.

The race was small, only about 150 people, but the Druid Hill Park course was nice (except for making us run the final quarter-mile uphill), there was lots of cheering and encouragement coming up to the finish line, and the post-race food was awesome. I love the Red Cross.

Ready to run

Just a quick note here. I'm in the middle of trying to pack up a small bag of clothes and shampoo and soap and stuff for the short overnight trip we'll be making up to Kelly's, and find directions to parking for the event. She and I (and Adam, too!) are running in the OUT FOR BLOOOOOD 5K tomorrow morning in Baltimore (you really need to say it like that). I'm really excited because of the name. I'm not excited about having to leave almost immediately afterward to drive the two hours back home to celebrate Father's Day with my dad because Sunday morning we have to drive two hours back up to celebrate my mother-in-law and her twin sister's 50th birthday, which is really today, and because clearly Saturday was not a good enough option. Please don't ask me what I really think about the whole thing.

I'll try to get on sometime this weekend, maybe, possibly...or, like, Monday...to let you know how the 5K goes. Meanwhile here's the snake we found last week in the tree near my car, that I said I'd post a picture of. I'm not sure what Keith was trying to do though.

Evidence of improvement

The solstice might be a few weeks away yet, but summer's already peeking around the corner. It wasn't quite as hot as it will be, but it was hazy, and I ran two miles yesterday in a cloud of tangible humidity, with deer flies jumping on my arms--those suckers land on you while you're moving! And they won't go away! They don't bother me quite as much as those damn sand fleas though; at least you can brush the deer flies away, and they're not so small that you can actually inhale them while you're running through a cloud of them. Ick. There was, however, a very nice breeze coming off the water. Nevertheless, it is very clear to me that I should learn to get up early on the weekdays and run in the morning.

I was supposed to run those two miles at a 12:37 pace, but I inadvertently ran a bit faster than that. As I approached the first mile marker, I looked at my watch and realized I had run the first mile in about 8:30. Whoa. I tried to slow it down a bit on the second mile, for fear that I would fizzle out and collapse in a wheezing, twitching heap on the side of the road, but it's hard to slow down when you're already feeling comfortable at a certain pace, and I finished at 17:38--that's roughly nine minutes for the second mile. I don't know that I could have run a full third mile, but I mean if I could, that would be *amazing* for me and the 5K I'm running next Saturday! I didn't think I could run that fast *ever,* and part of me still thinks my watch might be broken. Or maybe it's just the weather.

P.S. -- And oh, I left the Run-O-Cam in the car during running, but have some pictures of a snake Keith found in a tree near the car before we started. I'll post one for you later.

If I had gone jogging through the streets and squares of Savannah

If things hadn't turned out so...um... unexpected, I would have gone jogging in Savannah and I would have seen sights like this:

And this:

And the crossing signals would have spoken to me, telling me things like, "Wait...Wait...Wait...Now safe to cross Bay Street...Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven..."

But instead, I spent much of my free time here, fighting the urge to pack up and go home:

And that's all I have to say about that.

Uphill battle

I'll say this much: the hills are bitches.

That statement alone really could sum up my reflections on Saturday's 10K, but a person doesn't start a blog to be so succinct.

The event was a run/walk for St. Mary's Hospice; my parents participated in the 5K fun walk, which is why you see them in the photos below (left to right: Kelly, Mom, me, Dad).

Of course as you know, Kelly and I participated in the 10K run. And as it turns out, there are hills in Leonardtown. Oh, it's not really as though I'd never noticed before, having driven at least part of the course before. But running hills, even slight inclines, is far different than driving them -- in that you notice even the slightest change in grade. This might seem like common sense to you, and it is. But despite my familiarity with the area, I hadn't really thought about the terrain. And the 5K was mostly downhill. I think Kelly, who has been training on trails with hills, had an easier time than I, who have been training on flatty-flat-flat. This was in addition to Saturday being the hottest running day since the inception of the Sarahthon.

Both of us needed to stop and walk at points, most often when we reached the top of a significant hill. And for water -- but if I recall correctly they set up both water stations at the top of a hill. My time might have been faster if not for Slow Water-Getter Girl, who gave away the two cups she had to Kelly and one other runner just in front of me, and didn't seem to care about taking her time going back to the table and grabbing another cup for me, and in my head I was like, WOMAN! CAN'T YOU SEE I'M IN A RACE!?! EVERY SECOND COUNTS! Only kidding; really, I was more like, DID YOU NOT SEE THAT HILL I JUST *RAN* UP?! I CANNOT SPEAK BUT GIBBERISH, BUT THE ELIXIR OF LIFE WILL RESTORE CLARITY TO MY MIND!

Our walking breaks only lasted a minute or two and then we went right back to running, and thus it probably didn't add on too much time.

As I complain about the hills, it should be noted that while there were a number of significant climbs, there weren't a whole heck of a lot of descents. So our run went mostly like: uphill, flat, uphill, flat, uphill, flat.

It should also be noted that I think we still did pretty darn good, considering neither of us was really fully prepared to run a 10K. Kelly's been so busy that she can only fit in one or two runs a week, and I've been lazy. Nor are we hardcore runners like Spandex Man, who was quite confident in his Spandex shorts with the specially contoured pocket for, well... in addition to his shaved legs and arms. (Seriously? The Run for Hospice? *I* didn't even get up and shave before the race.)

After running up the hill on Route 5 going into Leonardtown (toward the CSM campus), and up another hill around the CSM parking lot, knowing we were almost there -- we could hear cheering and shouts of encouragement -- we walked up one final hill and started to run the last leg just as we crested the top. Where everyone could see us. Even though we had to take a few breaks, the goal was to finish strong for the camera:

The official results haven't been posted yet, but I'll update the Accomplishments section with my official time as soon as I find out. Meanwhile, I'll tell you that we finished a few seconds apart, in roughly 68:00. Once again, not an impressive time -- but I don't care. WE FINISHED.

6 down, 20 to go

Here I am jogging the first of 6 miles yesterday evening -- photo courtesy of Keith, who operated the Run-O-Cam, carried water, kept me company, cheered me on and calculated the percentage of the total distance that I had completed, all while following on Rollerblades. And I'm sure you'd like to commend me on a good show of perseverence in the face of procrastination. Why, thank you; you are too kind.

What is the muscle that connects between the top of the thigh and hip? (Iliacus? Psoas major?) The one you use to lift your leg, say, to walk up stairs or step into a pair of pants? Yeah, mine hurt in both legs, so I wore a dress today, but unfortunately must walk up stairs to exit the office trailer-trailer where I work, in order to use the restroom because I have been drinking Gatorade all morning. Thirsty. Other than that, I feel okay. A mixture of proud and scared, as I've set a new benchmark for runnable distance.

One more thing for the rest of the week -- some rules:

1. No soda, tea or coffee (hot chocolate and milkshakes are okay). Water and blue Gatorade instead.
2. Lots of stretching.
3. Clean the house because Kelly's staying over and Greg (Keith's dad) wants to install the ceiling fan (!) in our bedroom.

Sole mates

I got back on the road yesterday evening, albeit briefly and for the first time since the 5K. After the race, I was bothered with mild shin splints yet again, so I made the switch to my second pair of shoes, which are practically new. Although the run was not without pain, I could feel a definite difference in support with the newer shoes (which is exactly the same as my other pair of shoes, but I've only worn them once or twice). So hopefully I will be writing less about shin splints in the near future and more about the vast distances I've accomplished.

And now -- if I may -- let me give my shoes a long overdue shout out. They are the most wonderful running shoes I've ever owned, and obviously quite important to my success as a runner. They're made by Rykä, a company that specializes in women's athletic shoes. I wear the N-Gage Run, which I took a chance on and bought online after reading a review, and found that for runners with high arches -- like me -- it provides just the right amount of support without sacrificing flexibility. Plus they're super-light. Since I started running in them, I found that I don't have strain on my plantar fascia, or the ankle and knee problems that I used to have (from supination). Word.

Shamrockin' the road

We arrived at Kelly and Adam's house around mid-afternoon on Saturday. After trekking another half-hour north and back to pick up our race packets, we spent a quiet evening at their house, watching movies on TV and eating a fine meal of chicken, broccoli and couscous prepared by Kelly. And then I realized I FORGOT MY EARMUFFS. The weather forecast for Sunday called for chilly, windy weather in the 40s, and I cannot bear to run in the chilly wind without MY EARMUFFS. My first instinct was to dash out to Target, but since it is March, I remembered, I can no longer buy EARMUFFS. I can, however, buy a bikini.

As luck would have it, I have become something of an obsessive crocheter, and had packed some yarn, hooks and scissors. So Friday evening and part of Saturday morning I spent crocheting myself a headband to cover my ears -- for which I was very grateful because it was chilly and windy, but my ears were toasty and protected from the wind. (The picture quality is poor because it's a very tiny piece of a larger picture from very far away. But you can see the headband.)

We left the house late, but still managed to make it in time to find a place to get in line with the other 3,319 runners, and even still had enough time to spend a few minutes searching desperately for a restroom. We didn't find one, which may account partially for my motivation to continue running the entire distance, despite runners dropping into a walk all around me, and also for my finishing in less time than I had anticipated. Kelly and I, and at least a dozen other runners, were rewarded with an open McDonald's at the finish.

As we power walked up a giant hill to the starting line, speculating whether we would make it in time, we were surprised by the spectator turnout, which in turn prompted the most succinct summary of the event from another runner walking along with us: "This is the biggest [gathering] of drunken athletes I've ever seen."

I finished in 31:52, according to the nifty little chip timer we got to have strapped to our ankles. I have never run with anything strapped to my ankle, and though by the end I had nearly forgotten about it, at first I was disturbed by the feeling that I was wearing one sock taller than the other. Anyway, we both ran it at roughly an 11-minute mile pace, which is consistent with what I've been doing on my weekend 'long' runs, so I am quite pleased with my performance. According to the official results, I placed 2486th, and Kelly took 2488, in 31:53. We were hoping to take home at least 2479th place, but alas, it was only our first 5K. Maybe next year.

I will say that my other motivation for continuing (besides the need for a toilet) -- even though it was *HARD* -- was Kelly, who apparently gets a rush by passing people. I endured the majority of the race about three strides behind her. I wanted to walk. I won't lie. My shins were hurting. Other people were walking. And every time I'd catch up and get next to her, she'd speed up again. Doh. And I will not, cannot forget when we passed the water station -- Kelly slowing her pace and turning around to look at me as I gazed longingly at what was for that moment the most beautiful sight in Baltimore -- and instead of saying, "Hey, you look incredibly thirsty; I am too. Let's stop for a second or two and grab some of that cool, refreshing elixir of life!" -- she said, "Look! Everyone threw their cups on the ground! Isn't that crazy?!" Then she turned around and sped up. Again.

Still, she is the perfect running partner for me, and I am happy to say that I think that maybe I have convinced her that running the MCM in October with me is a FABULOUS IDEA. IT WILL BE AS MUCH FUN AS THE 5K ... times *NINE* (minus 1.7).

In the end, we accomplished what was most important: we finished, we finished strong, we finished with a trip to Cold Stone Creamery.

Next stop: 10K.

T minus

So here we are: the day before race day. Yesterday Keith and I took a 2.5-mile walk around the neighborhood. Spring is definitely on the way, with all the daffodils, crocus, forsythia and Bradford pears in bloom.


I'm hoping to finish the race in 35 minutes or less, as there is a St. Patrick's Day parade that follows the same route starting 45 minutes after the race and I would hate to get lapped by a float. Keith and I are heading up that way in a little while, so SIL Kelly and I can pick up our race packets in Timonium. I'm a bit anxious, mostly from not having been to any of these places before, but also because my shins are feeling a bit tender. I'm stretching them, icing them, and eating plenty of ice cream. And I just try to remember that in the end I will get a new t-shirt and free beer, which is -- after all -- what running is all about.

Two miles of surprise

I ran two miles today. It hurt. A LOT. I've also confirmed what I knew to be true in the first place, but chose to carefully ignore because it's cold outside: I'm going to have to start spending more time running on the road, because it took me by surprise. The asphalt doesn't move.

Besides sheer frustration with the running being so HARD, the horrid sound of my own rasping breath began to irritate me to no end, so that every other sound, every movement, every vehicle that passed, drove me closer to The Edge, until I nearly hurled my camera at a crow that was CAW-CAW-CAWing at me on the other side of the road.

At that point I could see the first mile marker, and suddenly walking became a very attractive option. Very. Attractive. Still, I passed the marker and kept. on. running, telling myself that if I finished a full two-mile run, I would feel good inside. I feel alright. Besides, when I'm out running, I always have this irrational self-conscious feeling that someone is watching. And taking notes.

I was very glad to reach the final half-mile, which spanned the length of a very straight bridge. Have you seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail? You know the part where Sir Lancelot is charging across a field toward Swamp Castle (I *think*) as the camera cuts back and forth between the castle guards and Sir Lancelot, and the drums are rolling, badum-badum-badum-badum-badum, but he isn't getting any closer? Yeah. Me running across the bridge.

At some point--probably when I was dead-set on walking for a minute or two or five or ten--it occured to me that two miles is the longest distance I have ever run at once. So I kept going, I did not throw my camera at anything, I did not get hit by a stray golf ball, I did not get trapped in an infinite time loop on the bridge, and I did not throw up at the end although I had thought I might, my chest and diaphragm and abs were contracting so hard. I ran it in just under 21 minutes, which is not a fantastic time, but it surprised me. Heck, finishing surprised me too.

Ride of the Valkyries

It's hard to blog when you hardly get a moment to yourself. That is what I am struggling with this week--it's stressful to constantly be around other people. The result is that I become nervous and a bit irrational; this morning I woke up in a panic thinking it was Thursday and I would be late for a meeting, then relaxing slightly realizing that it is only Wednesday--four times.

I meant to start 5K training last week, which clearly did not happen. But this week I'm slowly getting on track and fully intend to register for that 5K in March because I have a very good training plan from Runner's World that fits very comfortably into my existing schedule. In fact I ran 20 minutes yesterday instead of the prescribed 10, because I could. However, I was on the treadmill rather than outside, so 20 minutes probably works out to be about the equivalent of 10 on the road. Anyway, last week had its complications, culminating in my falling violently ill at work late Thursday morning. I felt much better (though still weak) by Friday, and after a few errands at the bank and a pedicure, Keith and I set off for Ocean City, where I was sure we would squeeze in some walking time on the beach--cameras in tow, of course.

Although the quality of the workout may not have been ideal, my muscles still felt it on Monday--all that squatting and lunging to get different photo angles. And then there was the slightly creepy Hitchcockian moment when Keith brought out a bagel to attract every sea gull within a two-mile radius for some face time with the camera.

Eventually, I had some fun watching them hovering in a pseudo-line in front of us, waiting to catch a piece of bagel. But when I replay in my mind the image of ALL THOSE BIRDS swooping down around us, all I hear is Wagner's (that's VOG-ner) Ride of the Valkyries and Robert Duvall voicing the immortal words, "I love the smell of napalm in the morning."

{Apocalypse Now (1979), courtesy RotaryAction.com}

Walkification, part deux

Jen and I went out for the second installation of our Monday-Wednesday Lunchtime Walkification, and this time Curtis came along too. Here's Curtis trying to banish a rock from his shoe, and Jen--who/whom you may not have recognized without her clever headwear. (It's whom by the way.)

Walkification

Good Ness, it's nippy outside today! I'm off to a good start this week, thanks to Jen, who suggested walking at lunchtime on Monday and Wednesday. And I'm grateful for it (the good start) after a poor, unenthusiastic finish last week. I barely made it to the gym on Friday, and didn't even think about going out on Saturday, although I am tempted to give myself a star anyway because climbing up and down stairs and a ladder to finish packing up and putting the Christmas decorations in the attic was hard work. My crook-of-arm muscles are still a little sore from it.

Anyway, here is Jen trying to keep her ears warm against the wind:

Into the woods

On Saturday, Keith and I decided to bundle up and take the run-o-cam out to St. Mary's Lake for a hike on the 7.5-mile lakeside trail. Neither of us have hiked this trail before, which is silly since we don't live more than 10 miles away from it. Still, it was a pretty easy trail, with only mud and some particularly aggressive tree roots to really slow us down--the length of it being the most challenging feature--and we will definitely be going back.



Despite the location, the lake was really only visible for the first 2 miles or so. We saw lots of trees. I am fine with this, however, because as much as I prefer water to woods, I can only stand to look at placid bodies of water for just so long.

But I must say, woods *do* have some pretty interesting things going on. At least they make for an interesting hike until it all starts to look the same and you just want to get the hell home to a nice, fat cheeseburger.

The air started to smell like snow about one-third of the way through, and the sky of course looked a bit ominous, and we thought maybe it would start snowing while we were on the trail. As we neared the finish--maybe 2 miles from the end--we finally started seeing flurries, but the heavier snow held off until we were safe and warm at home, each enjoying a delicious burger (with cheese for me!) and fries.

Back on the road again

Even though I know it's just a tease, the warm weather and later sunset (well, that's not a tease) made for a pleasant evening of aerobic goodness.

Now as it turns out, perfectionism is a psychological condition. And after a very careful and highly reliable self-diagnosis via the Wikipedia article, I think I can safely state that I am perfectly pathological and neurotic. Apparently this is unhealty. All jokes aside, it makes perfect sense, then, why I feel as though I have completely failed and thus hate myself for it.

So today I instituted a new kind of workout, to force myself out of the comforting bonds of regimented scheduling, list-making and the inevitable self-deprecation. You will notice this week's schedule is blank, except for today, whose goal was to do "Something. Anything." So for two liberating miles, I did Whatever I Feel Like, henceforth known as WIFL (pronounced "wiffle"): today's WIFL in the form of completely unstructured run/walk intervals, although this was mainly due to the fact that I forgot my watch with the interval timer. And it was very nice.

I even enjoyed the running part more than I have in a very long time. Unlike a treadmill, it is more difficult to control my running pace on the road, and inevitably I start off too hard and too fast and end up feeling like if I could just keep running without my lungs exploding, maybe all the body fat will just detach from my frame by force of impact and I can kick it away into the woods. So I decided since today's goal was simply to move, I would run (jog) at what I thought would be the slowest, most pathetic pace I could muster. Which turned out to be exactly perfect.

And I returned home feeling a little cheerful, which is quite a change indeed.

Nice tread

Yesterday, as I walked outside to do my workout, I noticed that it was extremely windy. I tried to capture the essence of the wind by photographing the choppy water:

(But it doesn't seem so impressive when it's standing still.)

And as I fought to walk a straight line against a strong gust, I thought to myself, screw this. So I went to use the treadmill at the gym instead, which does not make for very nice photos. Plus I would feel weird carrying my camera around the gym. So while I did not get to enjoy the following loveliness, I did get totally jealous of a girl who was sporting the legs I've been wanting for forever. Bitch.

Invigorated

I walked today at lunchtime, despite the snow, because I am officially registered for a 5K walk on Saturday! Jen A signed up to do it with me, which is one of the many reasons why I LOVE JEN; it's not as scary to know that even if all the little old power-walking ladies leave me behind, I will have a good friend to be young and slow with. The walk also reminded me of why being outdoors in winter isn't so bad. Other than the fact that it's easier to pass off that extra bit of squishiness as "additional layers." Yeeeeessssss.

Off to a lousy start

I did walk on Tuesday, as you can see from the gold star I earned on the schedule above, and the photo posted below.

I did not go yesterday as it was late and I had work to do when I got home. And today I forgot my shoes. Tomorrow I will probably be cleaning all day for Jen B who is coming to visit. But *Saturday* she and I are planning to go on a long walk, so maybe it will make up in part for missing 3 days. Next week I'm starting run/walk intervals. Walking (alone) is boring and I just can't take it anymore.

Anyway, I'm posting the one photo I managed to get from Tuesday. And my new rule: as much as I'd rather work out with a partner, it is always better to work out alone than with a grumpy pants who does not share even a smidgen of your enthusiasm.

GO!

It's official! Today I completed the first workout of my marathon training--a 30 minute brisk walk--despite the overwhelming urge not to because it was gloomy and dark. As you can see from this blurry one, I *was* actually moving.

I wanted to start with 30 minute walks for several reasons. First of all, I haven't been running in a very long time and didn't think it would be a good idea to destroy my knees right off the bat. Second, as I reached the end of the walk (exactly 2 miles in 30 minutes, not too shabby in my opinion) I was overcome with a nearly irresistable urge to break into a full out sprint the rest of the way to my car. And by forcing myself to maintain a brisk walking pace--no more, no less--I realized that I am also exercising the mental restraint I will need to keep from running as fast as I possibly can early on and burning out in the middle of a race.

I then came home after narrowly avoiding an accident which would have become a four-car pile-up if my brakes weren't so darn good and ate a medium-sized slice of pie. Pecan. For protein.