The Long Run – …and she runs.

February 13, 2015February 13, 2015

It’s not like I’ve never done this before

I’ve run half marathons before.

But even so, I’m incredibly nervous about running a half marathon tomorrow.

This will be my 25th half marathon since 2011. I’m completely aware some people run more than that in a year. But this one is the first one I’ve had a complete training cycle for, a ramp up, a taper down, etc. since my daughter’s birthday.

Even with that, I don’t have a “goal time” because of my treadmill training. But I’m hopeful I’ll do OK, at least.

I remembered today when I used to run to wear the cool race shirts. My husband picked up my shirt yesterday at pre-race packet pickup. It’s really fun.

So I’m playing some mind tricks on myself today to ease my pre-race anxiety. I’m telling myself I’m not running for time. I’m just running to wear the shirt. And I’ll wear it all day after the race is over.

Because it’s really, really cool.

That takes away the pressure, right?

August 8, 2014August 9, 2014

The long road back at the San Francisco 2nd Half

I told myself after I ran the Oakland Half Marathon in 2011 that once I finished I’d have at least one thing going for me: I would never have to run my first half marathon again.

Fast forward to July 27, 2014.

I felt as if I was running my first half marathon all over again. But without the appropriate training this time. And without the stamina and core support. Basically I was running my first half marathon as if I just woke up one morning and said: “Today is a good day to run 13.1 miles.”

In reality, I should have waited.

But at least I finished.

Ahhh, the early miles in Golden Gate Park where I was already falling apart. Can’t you see it in my face?

The morning started off well enough. We woke up on time. The baby’s bag was already ready. It took me about 45 minutes to get ready. We were out the door at a decent time for the hour-ish journey to San Francisco for my drop off point.

I tried to take a nap in the car and kind of did as my daughter fell asleep in her car seat. When I woke up, I realized my husband was taking a new route into the city. I looked at the time. I realized where we were and I had a moment of panic.

We weren’t going to make it.

It had been nine months since my last race and I realized my husband may have forgot how to be a race husband. By the time he got me to Golden Gate Park, he was on the wrong side of the end of the 1st Half Marathon. And, well, we were about eight blocks from the start.

With less than 15 minutes to my corral start, I had no choice but to run to the start, going right through the first half marathoners, and gunning it to the area where I was supposed to be about two minutes before my start time.

Needless to say, I was already slightly warmed up and ready to go by the time we started.

But then it all went downhill.

Actually, it went uphill and that was part of the problem.

Mile 1: 10:32 — This is misleading, the first part of this mile goes downhill, so it wasn’t as if I was trying too hard here. So this mile became my fastest. I had taken a Gu before we started after eating a peppermint Luna bar in the car.

Mile 2: 11:54 — This is more like it. The 2nd Half is a tougher course than most regular half marathons. I figured I’d average 12-minute miles. I could feel the incline here. I wasn’t ready for it at all. My legs were burning.

Mile 3: 13:21 — My legs were still burning. It was here that I was considering calling Thomas and telling him I was done. I’d had it. There would be no half marathon today. I did a Gu.

Mile 4: 11:49 — This area is one of the most beautiful of this half marathon. It moves around Stow Lake, which seems to go on forever.

Mile 5: 11:13 — Still going around Stow Lake here. My legs were starting to get tired here. I did a Gu.

Mile 6: —12:17 — The Gu wasn’t exactly working. In fact, nothing was working. I was exhausted. I think I should have ran a 10K instead.

Mile 7: — 14:09 — After getting out of the park, the course runs up Haight Street. It’s uphill for a good amount of time. In 2011, I struggled on this part because I suddenly felt as if I had to run to the bathroom. The problem was there is a huge drought of bathrooms along here. The SAME thing happened to me this year. So I was tired and had a stomachache.

Mile 8: 12:19 — Trying to pick it up. This would be my last mile at a decent pace.

Mile 9: 12:56 — My legs hurt. It was getting hot.

Mile 10: 12:44 — I had this “I hit 10! I can finish this thing!” moment just to realize that I had a 5K to go.

Mile 11: 13: 14 — I’m slogging at this point. My C-section incision started to ache a little. Then I knew I was in trouble.

Mile 12: —14:35 — Walking/running. Exhausted. Warm. Spent. My whole body hurts.

Mile 13: 13:49 — I texted my husband, which I never do. I basically told him I was slow. But I was finishing. I was tired. I needed water. And a nap. And a hug from my baby.

Mile .22: 11:10 — The deception of this race is that you can’t actually see the finish, because it’s around a corner a little bit, until right at the end. It’s kind of a cruel finality of the race.

Garmin time: 2:47:20

Chip time: 2:47:14

That nice image to the right is one of the free ones that the San Francisco Marathon offered this year. All I had to do was “like” a page on Facebook to download them. I love that. I’m only used to that at much smaller races.

I collected my medal, walked through the finish line shoot in mostly a daze, then started looking for my husband. He was near the finish line with baby girl and a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers, my favorite.

I think it’s fair to say I THOUGHT I was ready for this race. I truly wasn’t. My total mileage for July was 75. I’m already nearly halfway there for August.

I didn’t have the base going in. I felt strong because I’d had some eight and 10 mile runs over the course of four weeks, but not enough constant mileage to feel good running a half marathon.

But I’m glad I went out there and did it, even if the last half of it was a painful memory of blur to me.

To remedy the experience, though, I’m upping my mileage. In the past seven days, I’ve done a nine-mile run, a five-mile run and a six-mile run. The later two runs were at a faster pace on the treadmill. My goal is to do more mid-length runs, as much as I can, in the coming weeks before the Ventura Half Marathon, which I’m running with one of my best friends.

I don’t have a time goal in that specific race because it’s my friend’s first half marathon. I’ll be running with her, though I have a feeling she’ll be pacing me at some point.

I kept telling myself that I could do this if I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. But in reality, the 2nd Half Marathon in San Francisco showed me that I have a long way to go to really be “back” to half marathoning.

July 16, 2014August 9, 2014

What I missed most about running

“Don’t you miss out on a lot by running so much?” a coworker, bewildered about my 10-mile long runs on the weekend, one asked.

Training takes time. A fitness routine takes time.

And it’s often not until you walk away for awhile that you understand how much time it takes and how much you are potentially missing.

When I leave my daughter home with my husband and head out the door for a run, I miss my little girl.

But I also thinking about what I’m gaining. And, after three months of no running, what I missed most wasn’t the actual running, but the ambiance, the friendship and the feeling of victory when I finished.

The sunsets too. I missed the summer sunsets, even on a bridge to nowhere surrounded by dead grass.

July 3, 2014August 9, 2014

When a good run changes everything

Pregnancy does a number on a woman’s body. I say that, now 11 weeks postpartum, only minutes after trying to find professional clothes to wear to a formal event. It, obviously, changes the abdomen. Even though everyone swore I was “all tummy,” my legs and arms feel deflated.

The day before I was induced, I weighed 205 pounds. I’ve never weighed that much in my life. I hit 200 right before I started running and vowed to never do that again. Pregnancy was a different circumstance, though, so I allowed myself to gain without looking at the scale as long as I felt good.

My problem was that the high-blood pressure that led to Cecilia arriving three weeks early caused me to massively retain water. Within two days of her arrival, I was down nearly 30 pounds. As much as I’m ashamed to admit I gained 10 pounds back AFTER she was born, I also know I’ve been working to rebuild my muscle bulk that I lost when I stopped running at 30 weeks.

But my body is no doubt different.

And I’m incredibly insecure about it.

That’s what I took into the See Jane Run 5K on June 22. I came out of it, though, with a renewed confidence.

I had two goals for this race:

Finish strong
Preferably finish under 45 minutes

I’m happy to report I did both. My 5K time wasn’t my slowest to date by any means. I ran a comfortable 32:49. I didn’t push myself too hard. I didn’t give up. I just ran. When I got to the end of the first mile and felt good, I reset my thinking and wanted to finish each mile with a 10 in front of it.

I did that.

Mile 1: 10:33 — I paced myself behind two women who I overheard say they were “taking it easy.”

Mile 2: 10:56 — This included a water stop and walk break because I still can’t drink and run at the same time.

Mile 3: 10:36 — My legs were burning a little, but I also feel like I was coming alive.

Mile .11: 1.26 — Also, I forgot to turn off my Garmin right at the finish. Amateur mistake, but one that was easy to make since I haven’t raced since October.

I ran the 5K so fast that my husband hadn’t even unloaded our daughter from the car and brought her to the finish line yet. So I ended up wandering around for a bit.

That led me to the “I run for a reason …” chalkboard put up by race organizers. I used to run to be a better me, which is obviously still a laudable goal.

I have a new reason.

For the first time, I crossed the finish line as a mother. I longed to grab my baby girl up and give her a big hug, which I did after she woke up from a very much needed nap.

My husband took the photo above and another of me looking forward. I love the one above so much more than that one. I was having a conversation with her at a picnic table behind the race area while another new mom breastfed next to me.

I add all this into the typical race recap because as I sat there pondering how my See Jane Run ambassador shirt didn’t fit as well, how my legs look a little more deflated than usual and how my stomach was more prominent than before, I realized that none of that really mattered.

Nearly 10 weeks prior to this race, I had major surgery to give birth to my first child and, despite my complications, she came out perfectly healthy, with 10 fingers and 10 toes.

Some women say there body isn’t wrecked, their stretch marks are tiger stripes, etc. I’m saying it’s OK that my body isn’t what it once was. Especially right now.

So my tummy is a little more flabby than usual. I’m thicker across the middle. My arms are fatter too. My Lululemon tanks are more stretched out across my chest. Whatever.

I had spent three weeks trying incrementally to get to three miles on my training runs for this 5K. I finally succeeded the Thursday before I ran 3.1. My confidence was shot. I kept feeling as if I’d never run distances again.

Since this run, I’ve run multiple four milers. Two nights ago I made it to 5.14 before I turned off my Garmin and walked it in because the wind was so bad where I was running.

The See Jane Run 5K was a good run for me. It’s propelled me to other good runs.

Why? Because my body remembered. Despite the excess baggage and the mental uncertainty, my body remembered what it was like to run and what it felt like to knock out three miles.

I’m not saying it was easy.

But I got to the finish.

One of the reasons I’m proud to be a See Jane Run Ambassador is because of the company’s motto:

“If you can run a mile, you can run a marathon.”

The nine weeks before this race and post baby, I was having serious doubts about whether or not I would be able to run distance again. I know that’s hyperbole, but I honestly felt as if everything in my life had change. It has, truthfully. But I was amazed at the end of this race when I realized something awesome: My body remembered. By mile three, I felt as if I was only warming up.

For weeks I had run two miler after two miler and just felt horrible. I needed See Jane Run to be a good run. And it was.

I now feel as if I can run a marathon again. Just not this year. I’ve given up my hopes of running and PRing California International Marathon for 2014. Instead, I’m shifting focus toward one of my favorite half marathons in November and then gearing up to go long next spring by signing up for the San Luis Obispo Marathon and then bricking my training to also run the San Francisco Marathon.

Lofty goals.

Three weeks ago, I didn’t have those lofty goals. I’m excited about how I feel now about running.

Something else happened to: I’m learning to be kind to myself about my body. I don’t fit into my pre-pregnancy clothes all that well right now. I might not still by the time I start teaching again in the fall either. That’s OK. My husband reassures me that I’m as sexy to him as I’ve ever been. I have clothes that fit, even if I did wear my maternity dress pants to an event at school this week.

I’m learning to accept my body for what it is now. I gave birth 11 weeks ago. It’s OK to not be where I was a year ago, before I got pregnant. I’m accepting myself a lot better right now.

All because of See Jane Run.

And a certain little person who, despite being completely over me by the time we left the race — too many snuggles and kisses from mommy — had a good time cheering me on with daddy. OK. Maybe I don’t know she had a good time. But I like to think so.

She seemed pretty happy in her stroller on the way back to the car.

Also, check out the amazing ambassador jacket that I received from See Jane Run! I’m going to wear it to every running event I go to this year, no doubt. I want to wear it all the time now, but it’s much too hot.

See Jane Run puts on a Seattle race on July 13 and athletes in the Pacific Northwest can still sign up, for 10 percent off, using my coupon code: SJAMB243. There is also a Wichita, Kansas race on Sept. 13.

May 19, 2014August 9, 2014

‘She was always the plan’ : Part I

There’s a confusing stupor that comes with being awoken after general anesthesia. In the same moment, you are there, waking up, but still very much “out.”

More than two days after I was induced to deliver my daughter, I was coming out of that haze very slowly without recollection of what had happened to me in the moments, hours and days before.

“She’s here,” my husband assured me. “And she’s fine.”

Then I heard her. It wasn’t a cry. It was more of a coo. She was happy. She was in her daddy’s arms. I opened my eyes to see my husband holding her close to him, his eyes watery.

I was overwhelmed with pain. I was awakened without pain meds flowing through me. I asked for what seemed like 30 minutes, to please have something because it hurt so bad. The rest is a blur.

I couldn’t sit up to hold her initially.

An oxygen mask was secured to my face.

The nurse fought me to keep it on. I finally ripped if off as my husband held my little girl — the baby who in reality shouldn’t have been born for three more weeks, who wasn’t quite ready to come out on her own — next to me.

All 19 3/4 inches and 8 pounds of her. Cecilia Carine. Our first child. Our daughter. Her first name chosen by her father. Her middle name an altered spelling of my grandmother’s name (and the way her Swedish brother produced it), who I always intended to name my first daughter after. Born at 37 weeks after a medical induction because of mild preeclampsia.

If I said it wasn’t what I had anticipated, it would be an understatement.

I had envisioned Kangaroo time with me. I had dreams about her being handed to me after being born, my husband cutting her umbilical cord, delayed cord clamping and a bunch of other things. I didn’t realize I had a “birth plan” until my birth plan was thrown out the window.

As much as I was overwhelmed by the love I felt for this very small person, I spent the first days with her torn apart emotionally about how I should feel about her debut in this world.

The pain runs deeper because Cecilia, even at five weeks, won’t breast feed. Another one of my plans ruined. Instead I’ve been pumping constantly to give her the benefits without having her recoil when I introduce a breast to her (yes, she does that).

I’ve had days where I feel like my body, the body that has pushed me through five marathons and even more half marathons, failed me at the eleventh hour. The pain fades with every milestone. And each day I become more and more smitten with my baby girl.

A NOT-SO-SUDDEN PROGRESSION

For all intents and purposes, I had a very healthy pregnancy. I had no morning sickness the first trimester. Instead I had severe nausea which meant that the first 10 weeks I lost 15 pounds.

My clothes fit really, really well that first trimester. I ate incredibly healthy too, particularly because I was worried about fitting into my bridesmaid dress at 19 weeks pregnant for my friend’s December wedding. By January, I had gained only 20 pounds, putting me only five pounds over my initial pre-pregnancy weight.

As I started teaching again, I noticed that with each passing class period my shoes were fitting more and more tightly. Then my wedding ring and college class ring started to get tight.

My arms and legs started to swell. My running had taken a pretty significant hit in the first trimester with all the nausea and fatigue. When my second trimester “feel good” period came, I hit the treadmill every couple days until my legs started looking more and more like balloons.

It was not a good look for me.

By week 27, I had stopped running mainly because baby girl decided to jump on my bladder whenever I got going.

As each week turned over (on Sundays) I noticed my hands, feet and legs were getting worse and worse. I called my insurance’s advice line numerous times. At 27 weeks I was admitted for observation because I started to see “floaters” and had a head ache that didn’t go away with over-the-counter medication.

At 32 weeks my doctor said we’d start doing “nonstress” tests every week for baby girl because of my history of diabetes, even though I didn’t have gestational diabetes. That weekend, I was back being monitored overnight at the hospital. My husband had to take a Monday off because we were there overnight for testing for a potential pre-eclampsia diagnosis. I did a 24-hour urinalysis. It came back elevated, but fine.

At 36 weeks I had a non-stress test and my blood pressure was so high my OB ordered me to go to the hospital immediately.

My mom came to get me and we ventured to the hospital, about 30 minutes (in traffic) away from where I live. I spent more than four hours being monitored. My blood pressure was somewhere around 165/90 or something like that. I can’t really remember. When it stabilized I was allowed to go home, with more tests to be completed.

I did another 24-hour urinalysis.

On Tuesday and Wednesday, I went to work. My students were finishing a 12-page issue of the newspaper. I didn’t want to miss it. I felt pretty miserable. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have been there. I look back on it now and can’t believe I worked through the week. I left school immediately Thursday after pages were sent to the publisher and went to my doctor for another nonstress test and a follow-up appointment from the hospital visit.

What I already knew: My test results showed that the protein in my urine had doubled in a two week period. That meant nothing good. I tried to mentally prepare for the worst, even though I didn’t know what “the worst” was. I knew one thing, baby girl was likely coming sooner than my husband and I expected.

THE DECISION

When I laid down on the bed for the non-stress test, the OB nurse did an ultrasound immediately. I thought that was a little weird. I asked her what it was for.

“I’m checking the baby’s size and position,” she said.

Baby girl was head down (she had been since 25 weeks). The non-stress test showed no problems for baby. I, on the other hand, was feeling really, really bad. I felt like my skin was crawling.

My appointment with my OB was scheduled for about 30 minutes after my test time. But the nurse led me into an examination room.

And I waited.

And waited.

For about 40 minutes after my appointment time, which is really uncharacteristic for my OB’s office. When my OB finally came in, she asked me whether my husband was with me. That’s when I knew this likely wouldn’t be good.

“We’re going to induce you at 37 weeks,” she said, matter of factually.

I thought about it for a minute, then it really hit me.

“That’s Sunday,” I said.

“Yes,” she said.

I left the office with paperwork, a number to call come Sunday and a lot of anxiety about what was going to happen. I also was ordered to be done with work as of that day, which meant no newspaper delivery with my students the next day. I had to stay off my feet the whole weekend, until Sunday.

We hadn’t even packed our bags yet …

February 23, 2014

This is not my body

body1

I don’t want the title to sound like a complaint. My husband likes to remind me that WE WANTED to have a baby. We consider this little girl a huge blessing. And we are incredibly excited to welcome her in a couple months. (Also: I look like crap in that picture. I don’t even care.)

What I didn’t know, though, was how difficult it would be to see my body change so dramatically in such a short time. My “baby belly” didn’t really show until December when I was a bridesmaid in a friend’s wedding. But I started feeling “pregnant” nearly immediately.

Consider my last long run before I found out. I was exhausted. I could barely keep my pace. I kept stopping and sitting down. What was supposed to be a 15-mile run turned into a 12-mile run when I just couldn’t go on anymore. I stopped my Garmin and walked back to my car, thinking, perhaps, I was just having an off day.

That weekend I took a pregnancy test and immediately suspended my marathon training. I had 15,18 and 20 milers on the schedule for my next three weekends after that. I took the test because I could barely get up in the morning. I was having problems staying awake during the day. I knew, only weeks into the first trimester, that there was NO WAY I would be able to run a marathon at the end of September.

The positive pregnancy test meant that I slowly started pulling away from the running world, and this blog, and retreat to my everyday life. Why? Because, despite signing up for a bunch of races in that first trimester, I kind of knew I wouldn’t be running long distances for awhile. If I would have accepted it earlier, I likely would have been able to unload some of those race entries.

I’m finding, though, that at 30 weeks, my body is betraying me more than I ever thought it would. Health worries I thought I didn’t have anymore and coming back. My body is changing daily now and I never know what to expect. It’s exciting, because it means she’s coming soon, but it’s also so foreign to be in a body I don’t feel like is mine anymore.

DIABETIC WORRIES

I haven’t been on medication for four years, but the fact that I once was comes up in nearly EVERY appointment with my OB. At the beginning, it frustrated me. Now it’s just part of life.

Early in my pregnancy, I was given a new glucose meter to measure my blood sugar. I hadn’t owned one since right after my husband and I bought our house in 2010 and I purged a ton of stuff.

I was supposed to use it four times a day. But my hands started mildly swelling, and I couldn’t get any blood out. None. I would massage my fingers, put a rubber band around the finger I was poking, run my hands under hot water, etc. Nothing worked. I would get more upset with it than was really good for me or the baby.

So I stopped. Instead I opted to get my blood drawn for regular average sugar tests. So far? All within normal. But I can’t get past the fact that I’ve been on the medication before.

What irked me more than anything was the “you need to work out X amount of minutes a day.” I was already. The fact that my doctors didn’t seem to listen to me during my appointments when I told them I ran and did yoga was even more bothersome.

THE LEGS AREN’T WHAT THEY WERE

I lost 15 pounds when I first got pregnant. I didn’t have morning sickness. Instead, I just couldn’t eat anything. I picked apart my food for the first 14 weeks. I only ate small meals. I’d start eating something, then stop and give the rest to my dogs.

I was also too fatigued to run a lot at first.

The result of those two things was a decline in my leg muscles. It didn’t take long, particularly because I went from running 100-plus miles a month to 20 or so. My husband always told me that I really wanted to lose weight, I’d have to stop running as much. Turns out he was right.

When I did get back into it, in the second trimester, there was a noticeable difference in my running. My legs felt tight, and weak. They haven’t recovered.

EVERYTHING IS SWOLLEN

body2

My feet, my hands, etc. Before anyone jumps to “that could be a sign of something bad,” I know. My doctor and I have had numerous conversations about pre-eclampsia. We’ve talked about me going in for twice-weekly monitoring of baby girl’s stress level. My blood pressure is checked regularly.

Swelling is part of pregnancy for some women. I’m one of those women.

My running shoes don’t fit. Neither do any of my heels. In the past four weeks none of my flats have fit me well.

Worse even is that my wedding ring has been in our home safe for weeks because I haven’t been able to wear it out of the house.

The swelling makes me very uncomfortable. When I clinch my hands, it hurts. Obviously walking around is painful after awhile as well.

BABY GIRL HATES RUNNING

Maybe she doesn’t, but she sure seems to. My husband is concerned about pre-term labor (which is a real concern for us with my health history) and asked me to NOT run during the third trimester. Yoga is fine. Walking is fine. But no high impact. The funny thing is that I’m OK with it. I’ve been fine with it since I started getting Braxton Hicks contractions in the middle of two mile runs.

I also started responding to the baby when I feel as if she is sending me messages. Some runs were fine. I felt as if the movement had rocked her to sleep. Other days, I felt as if I was making her incredibly uncomfortable. She started kicking my bladder uncontrollably and then didn’t calm down about an hour later.

She would kick me relentlessly after. I started feeling as if she wasn’t all that comfortable when I was running, particularly in the past couple weeks of running.

So I stopped.

Now I’m sticking to yoga, but even that is becoming harder. I’m 30 weeks today. I’m going back and forth about registering for another few sessions of yoga. At this point I only am looking at five sessions at a time … because I had a couple weeks were I was too uncomfortable to go.

All of these things are making it hard to feel like “me” right now.

September 28, 2013

Yes, something is up

But I’m not quite ready to share.

There’s a great concern among readers of this blog when I suddenly drop off the face of the world for awhile. It’s not deliberate. I promise. I’ve been busy with my students (journalism conference last weekend and a new issue this week), website work and family stuff.

There are some confessions, though:

My nutrition is still in flux and I’m working through it. I say that because I have received many, many suggestions for things that are “easier” on my stomach. The problem is I still have no gallbladder, so what works for one person sometimes (usually) doesn’t work for me.
The nutrition aspect has wrecked havoc on my training. My mileage will be severely cut this month, likely in the 65-70 mile range.
For two weeks, I couldn’t run without feeling like I was going to throw up. TMI, I know. But it was really bad there for a minute.
I’m still running the Half Moon Bay Half Marathon, but I’m pacing myself. That should translate into “I’ll likely be slow and I don’t care.” And I’m already slow-ish. So “slow” may take on a whole new meaning.
I’m still signed up for multiple races this month and have every intention in running them. Slower, with more deliberate thinking and motion going into each step.
The “Year of the PR” is officially over for me. I’m completely OK with that. I’ll hold my 2:16 half marathon finish very close for awhile. And my 5:12 marathon finish. (Not to mention running a 5:15 in San Francisco on a tougher course than San Luis Obispo.)
I’m OK with my level of fitness devolving a little right now. I ran a six-mile taper run yesterday. Today my butt hurts in a way it hasn’t since I trained for my first half marathon. I haven’t hurt this bad after a six-mile run in forever. After tomorrow’s 13.1, I may pass out. It’s likely.
My marriage is fine, my husband continues to be the most supportive man I know. He even let me drag him to Walnut Creek last weekend for packet pick-up for the Half Moon Bay Half Marathon. He stood by me as I traded in my personalized marathon bib for a half one. I think he realized how bittersweet it was for me, but both of us KNEW it was the right choice.
My mental health is fine. That comes up, not surprisingly, because it would be easy for me to regress into an anxiety-ridden, panic mode. That hasn’t happened.
All of this equates to nothing bad. I ran with a cranky gallbladder for two years before the damn thing was removed. I’ve had to work much harder than this. Right now, though, every step feels like a mile. I’m working through it.

Working through it means I haven’t wanted to share as much, for the first time since I started this blog. So I’ve been stepping back and prioritizing. It doesn’t mean I’m joining the mass exodus of bloggers who stopped blogging either. I’m not there yet either.

I just ask for a little patience as I put my health back together. And a little understanding when my half marathon times really start to take a hit.

May 27, 2013

Going streaking? Or not?

streaking

Today is the official start of the Runner’s World Summer Run Streak. The magazine, and bloggers across the country, are challenging everyone to run at least one mile every day for the next 39 days. I have to admit, I’m always a little tempted by this sort of challenge.

But I never partake. I’m too commitment prone to do so.

Scratching your head? I’ll explain.

I have a deep-seeded loyalty in me that means I often give people, places, things, jobs even, too much of myself before I decided enough is enough. I never thought I could be “loyal to a fault.” This year, I learned that could be a “thing.” I’m way too loyal in some situations. My running is one of those things.

STICKING TO THE PLAN

My runs are set up specifically through the week to help relieve stress and anxiety while still keeping me active and healthy. I have a pretty regular, albeit boring, plan.

Sunday: Long run

Monday: Tempo run for an hour (usually 5 to 6 miles)

Tuesday: A very steady six miler (at race pace if I’m training for a race)

Wednesday: Cross training (lately Jillian Michaels workout video)

Thursday: Six to eight miles

Friday: Rest (OK, this used to be my core day. Since my January surgery, I’ve been having a hard time making that happen again.)

Saturday: Tempo run anywhere from an hour to an hour and a half

I’ll be first to admit I don’t run every single day I plan to. My Sunday’s are pretty consistent with the long runs. Mondays are never a problem.

But I deviate from the path sometimes.

When I do run, I HAVE to run the specific run I’m supposed to run on the specific day. So much so that my running buddies know Tuesday and Thursday are “running” days for me. Ask me to do something different (another workout video included) on those days and the answer is usually no.

I’m committed to the plan. I’m also committed to longer runs.

I can’t run just a mile. A mile in, my endorphins are finally settling and I’m starting to calm down as a runner. Anxiety can make or break that first mile for me. It’s incredibly hard for me to get out the door or hop on the treadmill without my mind going to worst-case scenario. (Again, anxiety is fun folks. SO FUN.)

THE REST DAY PHENOMENON

I need my rest days.

In being enticed by these “streaks” I stumbled across many runners who had “been there, done that” and came out OK. My favorite post is from No Meat Athlete where he actually lists all he learned from a 50-day run streak. Even if his post doesn’t sell me on running for 50 days straight, I love it. I love that he actually analyzes all the lessons learned in those days.

At some point I’m going to do a blog post on the “what works for me, doesn’t work for you” concept.

Today, I’m declaring rest days essential for ME. Maybe not for other runners, but definitely for me.

The gallbladder removal at the top of 2013 killed my mileage for January. It also made me re-evaluate myself as a runner. I ran more than 1,200 miles in 2012. It was an epic, record year.

I’m not on track to do that this year. I’m not forcing myself to run when I don’t feel my legs can handle it. I’m giving myself more rest days.

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It also means I get to spend more time doing the important things in life, like hanging out with my dogs. Beau appreciates it.

I’m pulling back. And I’m running better for it. To me that’s huge. After three years of trial and error, I’m finally able to understand why this works for me. My body is just one of those bodies that needs extra rest to recover from the pounding and fatigue from running too many miles.

NO LACK OF MOTIVATION

This is the biggest reason I haven’t jumped into running a streak. It’s touted as a way to get runners past the doldrums of summer when you’d rather eat large quantities of food at outdoor barbecues than lace up the shoes.

I don’t need that motivation. At all. I’ve never once cancelled a run because my husband and I want to go to a barbecue or hang out with friends. Instead, I restructure my schedule. I become a morning runner. It’s a lot harder than it sounds.

Yesterday was a case in point.

We spent more than seven hours hanging out with our good friends at their house.

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So I ran in the morning. Eight miles. I adjust so I don’t have to choose.

I have multiple races I’m signed up for that mean not training is not an option. Despite the heat, summer actually turns into my best running season. I can rack up miles upon miles just because my obligations are so much less during the summer months (no school).

I don’t need the extra push.

IS IT EVEN GOOD FOR YOU?

That’s a question I can’t answer.

I can’t run every day for a month, let alone 39 or 50 days. It’s true I haven’t tried it, but I think I would overdose on running just enough to not make it fun anymore for me. Again, this is my personal preference.

I have friends who’ve done these “streaks.” When I mentioned I was toying with the idea of doing a run streak a couple years ago, a friend told me I would kill my joints and probably burn out before I ended the streak. I love that streak running has it’s own organization, the United States Running Streak Association, that has an article about “The Dangers of Streak Running.” Except once you read it, it doesn’t sound so dangerous if you just practice common sense.

But I’ve also seen the question come up on multiple forums recently with links back to the Runner’s World streak. The popular answer is that it’s up to you. You decide if it can work for you. You decide if you want to or need to streak.

For me the answer continues to be no.

May 12, 2013May 12, 2013

Taking on the Sirena 18 a second time

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Do you ever have one of those days where you truly love running? I mean not just the running part, but also the sense of accomplishment and camaraderie from other runners?

Running is hard. Anyone who tells you differently is either freakishly athletic or lying. Your feet pound the pavement constantly. Your whole body shakes. You can easily feel worn down at the end. In some cases, you feel broken and beaten.

Confession: I used to feel the later of those things and more after a run.

Recent realization: I’m lucky to be able to finish a half marathon, marathon or any other event AT ALL. Not everyone can do it. Not everyone wants to. But being a runner, or any distance, means you’ve committed to the challenge. Finishing that distance means you did it. All the runners I’ve ever meant say that once they finished that “unreachable distance” they want to keep pushing. They want to keep going. We’re damn lucky we can.

That brings me to the Mermaid Series Sirena 18. By far, this is one of the smallest races I’ve done in the three years I’ve been running. And I love it.

It is one of three races I’ve run that focuses on female runners (See Jane Run and the Nike Women’s Marathon are the other two). The goal is to empower women of all sizes and backgrounds to just run. The “just run” part is hard enough. Getting out there is even tougher. Running in front of people is unfathomable for some people.

With all that said, this year’s Sirena 18 went well at the beginning, but kind of fell apart at the end for me. And you know what? That’s OK.

I was hot. The sun was beating down on me. I ran out of Gu at mile 15 (seriously!). I felt like I slowed to a crawl after blazing through the first 11 miles without any issues. And it’s all OK.

Because I went out and ran.

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The day started out in kind of a daze. My 4:30 a.m. alarm got me up quickly. I was out the door by 5:20 a.m. for a round of pick ups of fellow runners in Mountain House. My husband decided last weekend that he wanted to head up to Colusa and see a friend this weekend. That left me by myself for this run, which was OK when my running buddy Sam offered to come with and bring her daughter to run the Mini Mermaid run.

We stopped by and picked up two more runners to head to Quarry Lakes Regional Recreation Area in Fremont.

We were there within an hour, maybe even 45 minutes. My race was the earliest one, starting at 7:30 a.m.

In retrospect, I probably spent too much time in the car hanging out and not enough time stretching and preparing. It was kind of cold outside. I wasn’t exactly in “race mode.” That would come back to haunt me later.

I went and grabbed my race bib in the Sirena 18’s one line. I was also given a pretty nice, though long, shirt.

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At 7:25 a.m., I lined up and met up with my friend Mimi, who was running her first Sirena 18. Mimi and I go way back to my beginning newspaper reporting days. She’s now a director for an influential organization in my hometown. I first met and interviewed her when she was in high school. I’m in awe of all she’s done since then.

I was pretty jazzed to see her.

The race started right on time with a small field, though more people than last year. It started all good.

Mile 1: 10:06 — Good pacing, feeling good. The start is a smooth, conversational pace.

Mile 2: 10:15 — Still in the park, moving along nicely. The sky is overcast. I’m worried a little because my skin burns more when it’s overcast. I wonder if I’ve put enough sunscreen on.

Mile 3: 10:19 — My first Gu for the day. My legs were starting to warm up. We hit the first out and back. I slow for the Gu and take down a little water with it.

Mile 4: 10:19 — Feeling really good here.

Mile 5: 10:07 — The Gu starts to kick in. I feel amazing as we hit the bridge to take us to the longer of the two out-and-back routes.

Mile 6: 10:41 — My legs are feeling good, but I’m also getting tired.

Mile 7: 10:56 — Why am I so tired? At this point, we’re past the beginning of the park. Nowhere to go but out and back now. It’s a long way until the turnaround.

Mile 8: 10:37 — Another Gu.

Mile 9: 11:41 — Slowing through a water stop. It’s starting to get warm and it’s not even that late.

Mile 10: 10:48 — Gu is kicking in now. Feeling good. The turnaround for the longer out-and-back is within this mile. Only eight miles? I have this! (BTW, I may have been imagining it, but I thought someone said “and she runs!” right here. If that was someone out there who reads my blog, speak up!)

Mile 11: 12:13 — Or do I? I get through the first 11 miles in under two hours. It’s good, but I’m starting to really feel the heat here. In fact, it literally feels like someone just flipped a switch. Why? The first part of this section, we run facing away from the sun. On the way back, we run facing the sun. Suddenly it feels so much hotter. And I’m miserable.

Mile 12: 11:58 — I hate you sun. I hate you so much.

Mile 13: 12:55 — SUN. FIERY SUN. BLAH.

Mile 14: 12:59 — I’m hot. I’m miserable. I realize that I’m falling way behind here. I was doing so well. Now it’s falling apart. I take another Gu in between miles 13 and 14.

Mile 15: 12:03 — The Gu kicked in. I feel better, but I’m still hot. And then I realize my toe hurts. My left IT band is also screaming at me. That’s what happens when you don’t stretch. I was really feeling it then.

Mile 16: 12:48 — Between the heat, my IT band and my toe, I was dying. But the bridge back into the park was coming up again. I was elated to see it. I just wanted to finish. I tried to go for another Gu only to realize I was all out. All out. Gone. No more Gu. Well, crap. One of my major mistakes last year was not taking the Gu at mile 16.

Mile 17: 12:08 — Picking it up back into the park. I grabbed a couple glasses of very watered-down Gatorade. It hardly tasted like Gatorade. If outside the park felt steamy, inside the park was like a furnace. Yikes. Everyone around me was commenting on how horrible it felt. We hit an area near the lake and it smelled like fish. I was ready for it to be over.

Mile 17.82: 10:04 — I was a little disappointed as I came into the finish, until I saw Sam’s daughter with a sign she made specifically for me. She was running into the finish area with me, yelling “Go Tara!” OK, you can’t be mad when you see that. Not at all.

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I was handed the charm the Mermaid Series awards participants with. I crossed the finish, grabbed a bottle of water and headed over to Sam. We sat for awhile talking before moving into a more shaded area. I needed to get out of the sun. I was so afraid of baking my skin and turning into a lobster.

Less than five minutes after I finished, I got a text message from the timing company with my official time: 3:22:54.

Even though the last seven miles were not my best, I beat last year’s time by nearly 10 minutes. That’s a good run. Again, I’m damn lucky to be able to run. I’m going to celebrate it.

I’m also going to celebrate Mimi a little too. I saw Mimi a couple times along the course. Each time, she looked cool, collected and serious. Mimi was determined.

I felt honored to cheer Mimi in when she came into the finish. I wish I still had my shoes on because I would have kept running along the chute next to her. I underestimated the thickets in the grass. But I took a cue from my friend’s daughter and started yelling her name the moment I saw her.

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That’s Mimi. Mimi rocked it. I swear I’ve never seen a runner look so serene when she finished. She HAD this run. She OWNED this run. I have no doubt that when she runs a marathon, she’ll conquer it with as much determination as I saw her with out there during the Sirena 18.

One of the amazing things about the running community is that we all support each other. This is even more true at races put on with the intention of supporting female athletes. It’s women encouraging other women. Each woman’s name was said at the finish line. It’s a cheesy cliche, but it’s about “girl power.”

I was kind of on overload with all that support. Between a solid finish time (even though the last seven miles were a struggle), hanging out with my friend and her daughter (and heading out to Fremont with a car full of runners) and being able to cheer a friend on as she came into the finish, I felt proud to be a member of the running community.

I’m not sure even Mimi realizes how seeing her on the course pumped my spirits up, especially when I was struggling to keep lifting my feet. Just seeing someone you know and having them say “doing good” or “you got this” is an affirmation. It was a truly inspiring day for all of the reasons listed.

I’ll say it again: Runners choose this. We choose to endure the long runs, the long hours of workouts and the body pains. We push ourselves to go faster and longer. It makes us a little crazy, I’ll admit. But it also means we are incredibly fortunate.

April 15, 2013April 15, 2013

Jumping back in

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There was a bit of a joke in my house last week about my ample amount of extra time since I usually take a week off of running after a marathon. It’s less about recovery, more about me giving myself a treat. One week without running.

That said, I really didn’t have “ample” free time last week. I spent Monday recovering from the run while coding some websites, specifically mocking up a text-only version of a site I’d been working on for some time. Then my students had full-day labs both Wednesday and Thursday for the newspaper. Then, as I was hoping for a wind down, I left with six students for a three-day, two-night journalism conference.

Once there, it was literally one thing after another for the entire time.

I’m not ashamed to say I slept most of Sunday.

So today is finally my “back to running” day. But I’m buried in projects. So I’m not 100 percent sure that’s going to happen either.I’m also behind on grading. So far behind.

Yikes.

That joke about free time? It’s really just a joke.

But since I’m home more now than I was six months ago, my husband constantly reminds me that I can’t just walk past the dishes and laundry anymore without doing anything.

I was peeling potatoes last week and he offered to buy me an apron.

“You’ll probably need one now,” he laughed.

My husband, the comedian.

I need to jump back into running. But I’m still a little tired from the crazy week I’ve had.

Part of that means writing down a plan for the San Francisco Marathon. Right now, I have my 18-miler in place (thanks to the Mermaid Series Sirena 18), and a half marathon planned out (Rock ‘n’ Roll Portland).

The quick turnaround between runs means I go back to mid-length runs this weekend, maybe even a 10-miler. In fact, I have a feeling that I’ll be doing at least two 15-milers during this training cycle. San Francisco is big on hills. I need to be ready.

So here’s to jumping back into it, or at least trying to, this week.