A telling run?

D had said this run today should give me confidence. It would be used as an indicator as to how things are going. I could use it in place of trying to get a HM done (I'm having an impossible time finding one I can do) before the marathon.

So here was the plan. 16 miles total, with the first 10 easy and the last 6 at 7:55-8:05 pace. I ate and drank well yesterday (I have to get better at that these days), went to bed early, and ate some oatmeal and banana and half a poptart this morning.

The easy miles were just fine, but by the time I was getting close to the speedy stuff, I was starting to question my body. I had popped a shot block right before I started, and a couple a bit into the run (mi 5-6). Took a gel around mile 8 (too late, probably, but I thought the shot blocks earlier would've held me off) and started the speed at mile 11.

Mile 11 was fast -- 7:56. I slowed a bit for the next mile. Now I was feeling a little like I was going to be feeling woozy. I wasn't yet, but I felt it coming on. I sort of, no, I really did feel like it was a struggle to stay under 8:05 for the next couple miles. I wanted to stop. I wanted to be done. I wondered when the real wooziness was going to start. I hit the paces slower than the first -- 8:03, 8:03, 8:04 -- and took my last two blocks at mile 13.

They must have worked, or maybe I just knew I was close to finishing, but I was feeling better as I ran through mile 14. 7:57.

I tossed my water bottle as I began the last mile, and hammered it home. Feeling MUCH better, and legs moving well, I didn't really pay any attention to my watch. I just ran hard. 7:44.

I was glad to be done, I was glad to have finished. I was unhappy with feeling like I wasn't going to hit my paces at several points in this run, but I think I learned to pay better attention to fueling. It's something that fluctuates with me -- what kind of fueling I need on longer/harder runs -- but if I pay attention to my body and just do what it needs, I'll run better.

I'm not sure how telling this run was, but it was another one that was a challenge -- and I think I passed.

Grown-up kids

18 miles yesterday morning with G and my sister. Good run, easy pace, nice weather. Other than my 305 flaking out on me at mile 15, everything went well with that run. Some light crankiness in my knees (mainly the left) for a bit, but today all is well.

Then, lunch with a friend.

A trip to my sister's to pick up some wiffleball bats, and a quick toss with my 4 year old nephew.

Back to my friend's; then beers in hand, a walk across the street to the snow-covered ball field.

With only 3 of us able to play -- and a bunch of friends "too busy" to join us -- we played wiffleball like kids. Sort of.

We pitched, we hit, we fielded. In the snow. Our shoes got wet, the bottom of our jeans got wet, and some of us even fell in the snow several times. We laughed, made fun of each other, and cheered great hits and impressive catches.

But we didn't spill our beers.

We played like kids. With grown-up drinks. :)

Salt water

"The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea." ~ Isak Dinesen

Rough day today. I had a conversation with someone I care about to clarify some intentions and feelings. It didn't go as I would have liked. It made me sad, it weighed me down. It made my heart hurt, and when my heart hurts it invades me completely.

I went for a run, and I worked up a sweat. That felt good.
I shed some tears, too, and that was a needed release.

Had I been at the shore, I would have walked toward the ocean and breathed it in.

I stumbled upon this quote through a friend of mine today, and it couldn't have been better timing.

Blizzard Beer Mile

Cold. Wet. Windy. Ridiculous. Hilarious. Tough. Drunk. Fun.

The Blizzard Beer Mile registration was at 2:59pm. Race at 3pm. Bring your own 4 beers and a trash bag to clean it all up. So said the message from D.

We assembled on the local high school track at the height of the blizzard. The track hadn't been plowed, so we were going to be running/shuffling 4 laps through knee-deep snow. And drinking a beer before each lap. The snow was thick and wet. The beer was cold. The group was ready.

R took the race seriously and stripped down to his racing singlet. Good move -- he was the overall winner. D took the snow seriously and stripped off his outer layers, too -- to reveal this one-piece purple Mizuno suit. He probably won for being warmest. Maybe. Or he won best outfit.

We hit the start button on the watch, began our first beers, and then started around the track for the first lap. The snow was so deep I opted to run in my boots, instead of the cleats I'd brought. Good move. The running was tough -- we tried to stay in each other's footsteps, but somewhere on the back side of the track we weren't so good at it and cursed each other for not being able to run in a straight line to create a path.

We got winded easily, felt tipsy quickly, and laughed a ton.

R lapped us all and won easily. The rest of us started making our way through our last beer and lap, and then J -- bringing up the final spot -- pulled off his layers to run his last quarter mile shirtless. There was tackling, snowball fights, and snow angels.



















We've had record snowfall here this winter. It just keeps coming. It's making my running tough, it's forcing back-breaking shovelling over and over again, and it's causing my school year to be extended. And all that is frustrating. But, in the middle of it all, we're having some fun with it, too.

Pigtails freezing in the heavy snow, I finished my first beer mile -- with a smile on my face.

Blizzard forces treadmill run.

It's like a news headline. I finally had to give in and hit the treadmill for my run. We had a bit of a lull in the blizzard, so I headed over to my sister's to get my 7 miles w/4@ mp done.

This is what it looked like out my windows when I left for my sister's:


The run started a bit rough -- it's been a while since I've been on the TM -- but ended up just fine. I hit the paces (which were pretty regulated on the TM, except I kicked it up one notch for the last speed mile) and was glad to finish. I think I'll be on the TM for most of my runs for at least the next several days. When I left my sister's and got home, the snow was starting again.

By the time I got into my house after doing some shovelling, this is what it looked like out my windows:

The cloudy look to the sky is the heavy snow falling. It's tough to see in the pictures.
I admit, watching the snow fall out my big bank of windows is cool. It looks pretty coming down. But then I look out at the street and realize how much is out there, and how long it'll be before I can get out and run without thinking about dodging cars and slipping on the streets, and I'm tired of it.

In the meantime, though, the Blizzard Beer Mile is set for 3pm today with the running store people. The message about it said registration (at the local HS track) is at 2:59 and the race starts at 3pm. Bring 4 beers and a bag for trash. This should be interesting, funny, and intriguing. The track's not plowed, and these guys take these beer miles pretty seriously.

All this snow is a real pain, but yes, there's some fun in it too.

enough already!

27+ inches of snow. Yep, more than 2 feet. This is ridiculous. I couldn't even open my front door! I had to push the snow until I could squeeze out sideways and then shovel the rest. I know it's winter, but we never have to deal with this much snow. It's pretty coming down, it's pretty on the trees and on the banks of the river, but when it sticks on the road and makes it impossible to run, really, it's too much. I'm over the snow.

I had a 16 miler on the schedule today, and there was no way I'd get it done on the streets around my town. Icy, narrow because of the plowing, shoulder-less, snowy streets. Snowfilled sidewalks. Nowhere to run. Grr.

I headed over to Philly, and hoped I'd be able to run around the Art Museum loop. Kelly Drive was terrible, but I made my way up it and over Falls Bridge, and then West River Drive was MUCH better. I was able to get all 16 done out there, and avoided the treadmill.

Whew.

But now we're expecting another snowstorm Tuesday into Wednesday. Possibly another foot. Running is going to be frustrating and difficult for a long time.

Gah. It's enough already.

The "Hard" workout

When D gave me the schedule for January, the last weekend of the month had the workout that he labeled "hard". He told me he or one of the other guys would run it with me. It was 7 total miles: 2x 2.1 mile repeats at a 7:50 pace (with about 5 mins of rest between), plus a 2 mi warm up and 1 mi cool down. He told me it should be hard, and that we'd use it as a test to see where I was.

Despite the craziness of the end of last week, I planned on doing this run Friday, and I sent D a text just to clarify the rest time before I headed over by his house to run the loop where the 2.1 miles would be uninterrupted. He sent me a message back, and said he'd run with me.

Um, that made me nervous -- I had planned on doing it myself, and running with someone as fast as him makes me feel inadequate, even when he does nothing to make me feel that way. BUT, he was pretty adament that he'd run with me, so I drove to his house, and off we went.

We ran the warm up slightly faster than I normally would have, but I was comfortable. Just before we started the first 2.1 mi repeat, he stepped off to use the bathroom and said he'd catch up. I began the repeat, and about a minute into it, I realized I was too fast and I slowed. D caught up to me and asked why I slowed. I told him I was too fast. We hit the first .5 mi mark, and D said "perfect" and told me I was not allowed to look at my watch anymore. I knew that to mean he would take over the pacing from there. Uhoh.

We hit the first mile and he said, "perfect" again. In fact, he'd repeat that at every .5 mi mark. The first mile was 7:41. Faster than the plan, but I kind of figured we'd hang around the 7:45 pace anyway. That was the last time I knew what the paces were until we were done.

We finished the first 2.1 mi repeat, and I was breathing hard. I was super conscious of it, too. When you're running next to someone who ran a 2:29 marathon and you're breathing hard in a 2 mile repeat at a 7:45 pace, you feel silly. I apologized to him as I began the 5 min rest, and he said, "You're supposed to be breathing hard. You've been running easy paces. This isn't an easy pace. Now do whatever you want for 5 minutes. Walk as much as you want. Get ready for the next one."

I shuffle-jogged for the 5 minutes, D ran a mile-ish, and then he slid alongside me and said, "You recovered?" I said I guess so, and off we went for the second repeat. He said the first .5 mi would be tough, and by the time I was done the first mile I'd be cruising. Again, at each .5 mi mark, he said "perfect" as he clicked our splits. As we began the second mile, D told me to pick up my arms and use my knees. I adjusted my stride as he directed, and whoa -- the running got a little easier.

Don't get me wrong - this was a tough workout. At one point I thought I might puke, and the cold 20mph winds were not friendly, but I did it. And when we finished, D told me our paces.
7:41, 7:39, 7:37, 7:23.

Holy moly! He said my last .5 mile was a 6:50ish pace! Whoa.

It was a hard workout. He said it would be, and it was. Not killer-hard, but challenging-hard. I was confident I could have done the 7:50 pace repeats on my own -- it would be work, but I could do it. But having him pace me and push me faster was fantastic. I'm lucky he has been so helpful with this training. I wasn't sure he'd be as involved, and I'm happy with what he's giving me.

I got my February schedule yesterday and there's a long run in a couple weeks that he said would be telling -- a 16 mile run with 10 at MP.

Like I did when I saw the "hard" workout, I chuckled at how incredible it sounds, and then I got excited for the challenge.