***if you are new here, and have no idea what this is going to be about you have two intelligent choices:
a) Leave Now.
b) Start here, then work your way back, m'kay?
the thing about platitudes is that, while they sound pretty catchy, in general, they don't really tell you anything you didn't already know...however, sometimes you just need to hear them anyway. This? Was one of those times...and thankfully, there is no shortage of running axioms, with which to bolster one's spirits. At the end of the day, they pretty much all boil down to one simple fact...anyone who runs? Is a runner.
This would become my mantra, post blister.
As summer turned to fall, and school and sports started back up, I recommitted myself to running. The boy child had twice weekly soccer practice, at a field that was an almost perfect 3 mile distance away. Starting in September, on the nights that he had practice, I would come home from work, get changed, and run to his practice. Some nights, if I was feeling especially ambitious, I would run a few laps around the walking trail that lines the park as well. It felt good to get into a routine, and I enjoyed trying to better my time with each outing. I even added slightly longer runs into my weekends here and there and really, truly started to feel like an actual RUNNER.
Fall slowly turned the corner towards winter though, and soccer season came to an end. Without the scheduled regularity of practice, it was suddenly eleventy billion more times difficult to carve out time to run...what had been 3 times a week suddenly dwindled down to once weekly runs...I was crestfallen, and had no idea how to get my groove back. Where and how would I find the time to run?
It was right around this timeframe that I had expressed my desire to eventually run a marathon to one of my best friends, and had explained that I just didn't know which race I wanted to aspire to. It was at that point that he started trying to sell me on his company sponsored marathon, The Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon .
"Sure" I said..."Sure, I'll come to Minnesota. In October. Right-o..." A short haggling period ensued, and we finally came to the agreement that I would come out and run this marathon if and only if...
a) He ran it with me. (**updated for clarity's sake: This was *my* condition...)
b) He paid for the registration fee. (**this was not so much a condition, but the offer he made to convince me to do it)
...now, in all honesty, I would have done it regardless, but I figured, if he paid the fee, he would be less likely to not do it. I also figured, if he was training for it as well, I would have less temptation to give up...I would owe it to not only myself to follow through, but to him as well...come heck or highwater, this. was. happening.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Monday, October 22, 2012
Getting Off On the Wrong Foot
***if you are new here, and have no idea what this is going to be about you have two intelligent choices:
a) Leave Now.
b) Start here, then work your way back, m'kay?
…and now, the exciting conclusion of The Great Blister Disaster. As I mentioned yesterday…ok, ok, you caught me…not really yesterday. It’s a couple days later. But from a business perspective, it’s the next business day…so can we just go with that? …like you had a choice anyway.
What was I saying? Oh, yes, blisters.
So, the misguided, misdirected run in TX left me with two things. A new personal record for the longest distance run and a big honking blister, square on the ball of my foot. I spent the rest of the vacation largely ignoring it, and hoping it would just go away, but blisters aren’t fond of giving up their claim, if you don’t stay off of them. A few days after we returned from vacation, some friends of ours, who live roughly 3 miles away, were leaving on their own vacation. They asked if we could look in on their pooches, and I thought “Hey, perfect excuse to run…3 miles there, have a drink, feed the dogs, then get back out on the road, and run 3 miles back. What could possibly go wrong???”
So, early on Saturday morning – or at least what I thought of as early back then – around 7 AM, I strapped on my trusty Newtons and headed out the door. The sun was already up, the air was already still and it was already pretty darned warm. Not TX warm, mind you, but definitely mid-July in PA warm. Off I ran, towards their house, with all the best of intentions. The first mile went pretty smoothly, with some gentle inclines and declines. The second mile smacked me in the face with a pretty obnoxious hill, but I made it up the whole thing, without stopping to walk, no matter how badly I wanted to. I was rewarded for making it up this “monster” of a hill with a swift downhill, that really set my blister to rubbing. Hmmm. Hadn’t thought about that…
The end of the second mile brought me to a hill I had forgotten all about, despite having driven it hundreds of times, on my way to their house. I looked at it, panicked a bit, and then gave myself permission to walk…at the next mailbox. I managed to squeeze about 5 more “next mailboxes” out, before finally giving in, and walking the rest of the way up. As is so often the case, I was again rewarded with a downhill, which led straight to their house.
I scurried inside, in hot pursuit of air conditioning and a cold drink.
A good long(ish) while later, and I was faced with the harsh reality that I was going to have to go back. Suffice it to say that the trip home, was less successful than the trip there. It was hotter, sunnier, steamier and I was already tired, sweaty and cursing my blister.
By the time I got home, I was red in the face, out of breath and basically, downright miserable. I made the executive decision, then and there, that I was not going to take another step in running shoes, until that blister was gone. And I stuck to that. It’d be weeks before I ran again…and even then, I was hesitant, and unsure whether I even had the right to call myself a runner…
a) Leave Now.
b) Start here, then work your way back, m'kay?
…and now, the exciting conclusion of The Great Blister Disaster. As I mentioned yesterday…ok, ok, you caught me…not really yesterday. It’s a couple days later. But from a business perspective, it’s the next business day…so can we just go with that? …like you had a choice anyway.
What was I saying? Oh, yes, blisters.
So, the misguided, misdirected run in TX left me with two things. A new personal record for the longest distance run and a big honking blister, square on the ball of my foot. I spent the rest of the vacation largely ignoring it, and hoping it would just go away, but blisters aren’t fond of giving up their claim, if you don’t stay off of them. A few days after we returned from vacation, some friends of ours, who live roughly 3 miles away, were leaving on their own vacation. They asked if we could look in on their pooches, and I thought “Hey, perfect excuse to run…3 miles there, have a drink, feed the dogs, then get back out on the road, and run 3 miles back. What could possibly go wrong???”
So, early on Saturday morning – or at least what I thought of as early back then – around 7 AM, I strapped on my trusty Newtons and headed out the door. The sun was already up, the air was already still and it was already pretty darned warm. Not TX warm, mind you, but definitely mid-July in PA warm. Off I ran, towards their house, with all the best of intentions. The first mile went pretty smoothly, with some gentle inclines and declines. The second mile smacked me in the face with a pretty obnoxious hill, but I made it up the whole thing, without stopping to walk, no matter how badly I wanted to. I was rewarded for making it up this “monster” of a hill with a swift downhill, that really set my blister to rubbing. Hmmm. Hadn’t thought about that…
The end of the second mile brought me to a hill I had forgotten all about, despite having driven it hundreds of times, on my way to their house. I looked at it, panicked a bit, and then gave myself permission to walk…at the next mailbox. I managed to squeeze about 5 more “next mailboxes” out, before finally giving in, and walking the rest of the way up. As is so often the case, I was again rewarded with a downhill, which led straight to their house.
I scurried inside, in hot pursuit of air conditioning and a cold drink.
A good long(ish) while later, and I was faced with the harsh reality that I was going to have to go back. Suffice it to say that the trip home, was less successful than the trip there. It was hotter, sunnier, steamier and I was already tired, sweaty and cursing my blister.
By the time I got home, I was red in the face, out of breath and basically, downright miserable. I made the executive decision, then and there, that I was not going to take another step in running shoes, until that blister was gone. And I stuck to that. It’d be weeks before I ran again…and even then, I was hesitant, and unsure whether I even had the right to call myself a runner…
Friday, October 19, 2012
In The Beginning...
So, in an unprecedented effort to stick to my guns on the story telling…let’s open that whole can of worms that is otherwise known as running.
As I alluded to yesterday, I rekindled my romance with running last in March(ish) of 2011. Honestly, I blame Twitter. I started seeing tweets in my timeline about so and so finishing Day2 Week3 of the C25K program, and just *had* to find out what that was all about. Because I am nothing if not nosey. What I found out intrigued me. An app that purported to get you from sitting on the couch to *running* a full 5K in 12 weeks? An app that would provide you with a little voice inside your head, to tell you what to do next? So, basically training that I didn’t have to think about…just needed to follow instructions? Sign. Me. Up.
Of course, in typical pack animal fashion, I drafted one of my closest friends…the very one that had dragged me into the running store in the first place…to complete this program with me. And she did. For the next 12 weeks, we would get together, 3 nights a week, and do whatever the masochistic voice in the app told us to do. Honestly, in the beginning, it wasn’t anything too terrible. Walk for a minute, run for 90 seconds, do the hokey pokey…you know, the basic stuff. Over time, the walking became shorter, and the running became longer. Finally, on a Friday night in early June, we lined up at the starting line of the Race Against Poverty, and prepared to take the plunge.
After 12 weeks of strict adherence to the plan, I ran every step of the 3.1 mile course, without pain, and finished the race in 30:36. I was damned proud.
As soon as this was accomplished, we embarked upon the Bridge to 10K program, with the earnest belief and desire to step up to 6.2 miles deep into the summer. A few weeks in, we ran the Spirit of Gettysburg 5K. I eagerly anticipated setting a PR, as I just *knew* I should be able to crush my old time, based upon the longer distances I had already started putting in. It was an extremely hilly course, that wound through wide open battlefields, on a very hot morning. My time was 30:34, and I was *quite* disappointed.
Anyway, back to the Bridge to 10K, for about 5 weeks, all was well. And then July hit full force. It was HOT. It was HUMID. And our interest started to wane a wee bit. Finally, in mid-July, a trip to Texas, to visit the in-laws, put what would be the final nail in a (thankfully temporary) coffin on my running efforts…
With the best of intentions, I packed my running gear for a family vacation. My in-laws live on a beautiful lake in Texas. My sister in law informed me that the distance around the lake was approximately 3 miles. This was perfect. So I arose early, one morning, strapped on my shoes, and set out for a trot.
Now, the thing to know about where they live is that it is surprisingly hilly for Texas. Also? There is more than one lake in their neighborhood. I didn’t know either of these things as I set out on my run.
The first mile or so was fine…it was still very early, and relatively cool out. I came to a road aptly named “Lake Cross”, and started over it…a small way into it, I noticed that there was water on *both* sides of the street. Not wanting to cheat myself out of my 3 mile distance, I turned around and continued along the road I was originally on.
It went on for a long, long time.
Just shy of 6 miles to be exact.
By the time I returned to their home, it was 90 degrees. I was drenched, and I had a horrible blister on the ball of my foot.
Looking at my father in law I said “Your lake is *not* 3 miles around, it is closer to 6.”
Looking back at me, he said “There are two lakes.”
::crickets::
This is riveting stuff, no?
So, perhaps tomorrow we will have the exciting conclusion to the cliffhanger of the blister. I know, you can hardly wait.
As I alluded to yesterday, I rekindled my romance with running last in March(ish) of 2011. Honestly, I blame Twitter. I started seeing tweets in my timeline about so and so finishing Day2 Week3 of the C25K program, and just *had* to find out what that was all about. Because I am nothing if not nosey. What I found out intrigued me. An app that purported to get you from sitting on the couch to *running* a full 5K in 12 weeks? An app that would provide you with a little voice inside your head, to tell you what to do next? So, basically training that I didn’t have to think about…just needed to follow instructions? Sign. Me. Up.
Of course, in typical pack animal fashion, I drafted one of my closest friends…the very one that had dragged me into the running store in the first place…to complete this program with me. And she did. For the next 12 weeks, we would get together, 3 nights a week, and do whatever the masochistic voice in the app told us to do. Honestly, in the beginning, it wasn’t anything too terrible. Walk for a minute, run for 90 seconds, do the hokey pokey…you know, the basic stuff. Over time, the walking became shorter, and the running became longer. Finally, on a Friday night in early June, we lined up at the starting line of the Race Against Poverty, and prepared to take the plunge.
After 12 weeks of strict adherence to the plan, I ran every step of the 3.1 mile course, without pain, and finished the race in 30:36. I was damned proud.
As soon as this was accomplished, we embarked upon the Bridge to 10K program, with the earnest belief and desire to step up to 6.2 miles deep into the summer. A few weeks in, we ran the Spirit of Gettysburg 5K. I eagerly anticipated setting a PR, as I just *knew* I should be able to crush my old time, based upon the longer distances I had already started putting in. It was an extremely hilly course, that wound through wide open battlefields, on a very hot morning. My time was 30:34, and I was *quite* disappointed.
Anyway, back to the Bridge to 10K, for about 5 weeks, all was well. And then July hit full force. It was HOT. It was HUMID. And our interest started to wane a wee bit. Finally, in mid-July, a trip to Texas, to visit the in-laws, put what would be the final nail in a (thankfully temporary) coffin on my running efforts…
With the best of intentions, I packed my running gear for a family vacation. My in-laws live on a beautiful lake in Texas. My sister in law informed me that the distance around the lake was approximately 3 miles. This was perfect. So I arose early, one morning, strapped on my shoes, and set out for a trot.
Now, the thing to know about where they live is that it is surprisingly hilly for Texas. Also? There is more than one lake in their neighborhood. I didn’t know either of these things as I set out on my run.
The first mile or so was fine…it was still very early, and relatively cool out. I came to a road aptly named “Lake Cross”, and started over it…a small way into it, I noticed that there was water on *both* sides of the street. Not wanting to cheat myself out of my 3 mile distance, I turned around and continued along the road I was originally on.
It went on for a long, long time.
Just shy of 6 miles to be exact.
By the time I returned to their home, it was 90 degrees. I was drenched, and I had a horrible blister on the ball of my foot.
Looking at my father in law I said “Your lake is *not* 3 miles around, it is closer to 6.”
Looking back at me, he said “There are two lakes.”
::crickets::
This is riveting stuff, no?
So, perhaps tomorrow we will have the exciting conclusion to the cliffhanger of the blister. I know, you can hardly wait.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Run Away With Me...
So, you've probably noticed that I haven't posted terribly regularly the last 2 years or so. Commence judging me...I'll wait.
You done? Good? Good.
Forging ahead...the years 2010 through today have been quite the roller coaster. Over the course of that time I have gone from being a SAHM, to a re-employed working mom. I have gone from being a student of life, to a non-traditional student finishing up an English/Secondary Education degree to a non-traditional student pursuing a Computer Science/Software Engineering degree. I have gone from being relatively sedentary, with occasional, seasonal outbursts of outdoorsy activity to being a marathoner. I have also gone from being a large size 12 to a small size 4. So yeah. Changes.
Each of those changes could be a blog unto itself.
Perhaps, at some point, I will take the time to write up each of those. (Don't hold your breath.)
So let's talk running.
There are so many great motivational quotes about running out there, that really, there isn't anything illuminating that I can say, that someone else hasn't already printed onto a t-shirt, so I'll spare you the attempt at ironic brilliance...
If you run, you are a runner.
Running is not truly something that I am new to. Honestly, anyone that has ever been a child, isn't "new" to running. (With the obvious exception of those that are not blessed with full use of their legs...again, another post, for another day.) My earliest running forays were peppered with such encouraging insights as "You run like Gumby" and assorted laughter. Can't imagine why I didn't run more often.
In high school, I accidentally joined the track team. Despite putting up a hell of a fight, I loved it. And bonus!!! Nobody called me Gumby.
Anyway, the history isn't the real story.
At some point I stopped running. Something about an older boyfriend, parties in a basement and hormones...I do't know, I didn't get the whole story. (Hi mom!)
That? Was a long time ago. A very long time ago. Long enough ago that I get mildly depressed thinking about it.
While I was doing my SAHM thing, I started walking my neighborhood. With my dog. For exercise. Not as a professional. Really, what kind of hussy do you take me for?? In June/July of 2008, my best friend asked me if I wanted to run a 5K with her. I arrogantly said "Suuuuure!" And then proceeded to do almost no training.
I ran a few times, found my ankles SCREAMING at me, and did what any sensible girl would do...blamed the shoes, and went SHOE SHOPPING!!!!!
The day of the race came, I strapped on my lovely new shoes, took off and almost immediately found myself hobbled. I walked a fair bit of that race, and think I finished sometime around October. No, really, it was like 46 minutes or something. I've blocked it to be honest. I spent the next week or so with my ankle wrapped, and my pride wounded. And I hung up my shoes.
In January 2011, I went back to work. At some point in the next two months, I decided that it was time to get my butt up off the couch and back out on the road. A friend dragged me into a a running specialty shop, where they would do a "gait analysis" and put me in the best pair of shoes for me. I was skeptical, but figured that, if anywhere would have a snazzy pair of kicks, it had to be a running store - right?
In we marched, and the owner (who has now become something of a running sensei to me) came over and asked how he could help. I told him what I had experienced and he grabbed a couple of pairs of shoes, had me strap a pair on and ushered me over to the treadmill. Me. The girl who once threw herself out. Clearly he had no idea what he was asking for.
I gamely hopped up on the treadmill and started trot. So far so good. He stood reassuringly next to me, and asked me a question. I turned to look at him as I answered and SHWOOP, off the back of the treadmill I flew. Into one of his neatly stacked displays. No longer so neatly stacked.
To his credit, he *didn't* throw me out of the store right there and then. Probably because he knew he was pretty much guaranteed a sale if for no other reason than the fact that I felt really bad about destroying his store.
New rules were quickly put in place, and going forward I was to get on the treadmill, run, look forward, and answer any and all questions only AFTER I had safely exited the ride. Within 30 minutes, he had outfitted me with my first pair of Newton running shoes.
Armed with fancy, brightly colored VERY EXPENSIVE shoes, I guess I felt obligated to run. So I started the Couch 2 5K program. Which I cannot say enough good things about. At some point during that 12 week program, a hazy idea started to really materialize, and I sheepishly admitted to myself that I wanted to run a marathon.
It would take me nearly a year and half to accomplish this goal, but not quite two weeks ago, I did it. I became a marathoner.
Now...in my head, I plan to continue some posts along these lines...in reality? We'll see what happens.
You done? Good? Good.
Forging ahead...the years 2010 through today have been quite the roller coaster. Over the course of that time I have gone from being a SAHM, to a re-employed working mom. I have gone from being a student of life, to a non-traditional student finishing up an English/Secondary Education degree to a non-traditional student pursuing a Computer Science/Software Engineering degree. I have gone from being relatively sedentary, with occasional, seasonal outbursts of outdoorsy activity to being a marathoner. I have also gone from being a large size 12 to a small size 4. So yeah. Changes.
Each of those changes could be a blog unto itself.
Perhaps, at some point, I will take the time to write up each of those. (Don't hold your breath.)
So let's talk running.
There are so many great motivational quotes about running out there, that really, there isn't anything illuminating that I can say, that someone else hasn't already printed onto a t-shirt, so I'll spare you the attempt at ironic brilliance...
If you run, you are a runner.
Running is not truly something that I am new to. Honestly, anyone that has ever been a child, isn't "new" to running. (With the obvious exception of those that are not blessed with full use of their legs...again, another post, for another day.) My earliest running forays were peppered with such encouraging insights as "You run like Gumby" and assorted laughter. Can't imagine why I didn't run more often.
In high school, I accidentally joined the track team. Despite putting up a hell of a fight, I loved it. And bonus!!! Nobody called me Gumby.
Anyway, the history isn't the real story.
At some point I stopped running. Something about an older boyfriend, parties in a basement and hormones...I do't know, I didn't get the whole story. (Hi mom!)
That? Was a long time ago. A very long time ago. Long enough ago that I get mildly depressed thinking about it.
While I was doing my SAHM thing, I started walking my neighborhood. With my dog. For exercise. Not as a professional. Really, what kind of hussy do you take me for?? In June/July of 2008, my best friend asked me if I wanted to run a 5K with her. I arrogantly said "Suuuuure!" And then proceeded to do almost no training.
I ran a few times, found my ankles SCREAMING at me, and did what any sensible girl would do...blamed the shoes, and went SHOE SHOPPING!!!!!
The day of the race came, I strapped on my lovely new shoes, took off and almost immediately found myself hobbled. I walked a fair bit of that race, and think I finished sometime around October. No, really, it was like 46 minutes or something. I've blocked it to be honest. I spent the next week or so with my ankle wrapped, and my pride wounded. And I hung up my shoes.
In January 2011, I went back to work. At some point in the next two months, I decided that it was time to get my butt up off the couch and back out on the road. A friend dragged me into a a running specialty shop, where they would do a "gait analysis" and put me in the best pair of shoes for me. I was skeptical, but figured that, if anywhere would have a snazzy pair of kicks, it had to be a running store - right?
In we marched, and the owner (who has now become something of a running sensei to me) came over and asked how he could help. I told him what I had experienced and he grabbed a couple of pairs of shoes, had me strap a pair on and ushered me over to the treadmill. Me. The girl who once threw herself out. Clearly he had no idea what he was asking for.
I gamely hopped up on the treadmill and started trot. So far so good. He stood reassuringly next to me, and asked me a question. I turned to look at him as I answered and SHWOOP, off the back of the treadmill I flew. Into one of his neatly stacked displays. No longer so neatly stacked.
To his credit, he *didn't* throw me out of the store right there and then. Probably because he knew he was pretty much guaranteed a sale if for no other reason than the fact that I felt really bad about destroying his store.
New rules were quickly put in place, and going forward I was to get on the treadmill, run, look forward, and answer any and all questions only AFTER I had safely exited the ride. Within 30 minutes, he had outfitted me with my first pair of Newton running shoes.
Armed with fancy, brightly colored VERY EXPENSIVE shoes, I guess I felt obligated to run. So I started the Couch 2 5K program. Which I cannot say enough good things about. At some point during that 12 week program, a hazy idea started to really materialize, and I sheepishly admitted to myself that I wanted to run a marathon.
It would take me nearly a year and half to accomplish this goal, but not quite two weeks ago, I did it. I became a marathoner.
Now...in my head, I plan to continue some posts along these lines...in reality? We'll see what happens.
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