Well.
I did it.
It's been a long, interesting adventure. And I finally crossed that finish line. There were 30,000 people participating in that race, and it was quite an amazing sight.
I suppose I will start at the beginning.
It had been a very difficult week prior to D.C. My grandmother fell very ill and passed away last Wednesday. Needless to say, it was a week filled with very complex emotions. While I could write about this event for days, I'll leave it as it is.
My stomach started to fight me, I was eating less than half of my usual, which was stressful since you're supposed to provide your body with tons of fuel in the week before the marathon. Besides that, all went according to plan in regard to transportation to D.C. We spent all day Saturday at the Rally to Restore Sanity, which was awesome. But it also meant being exclusively on my feet for 6 hours or so.
On the morning of the race, I made a last minute decision to ditch the tutu in favor of comfort over ridiculousness during the long race. With my stomach still in knots, I could barely choke down half of a granola bar. We arrived at the starting line a bit late, but that was much better than arriving early and having to wait around while the nerves take over. We stopped at a port-a-potty just before starting, where I discovered that the green apple energy goo that I stuck into the elastic of my hot pink shorts had leaked. So that was a sticky situation. Jamie and I had our picture taken at the starting line and then we were off.
The first part of the race was absolutely beautiful, weaving through roads that were framed by the colors of fall. Jamie and I started out the race together, at a pretty comfortable pace. We truly lucked out on the weather, it never got hotter than 60 degrees and the sun was shining the entire way. There were so many people in that race, with so many amazing stories. One lady had a shirt that said "I lost 170 pounds to run 26.2 miles." There were many people in wheelchairs. And countless shirts that said things like "I'm running in memory of my wife" and "I'm running for my favorite Marine, Daddy." With all of this around me, I never once struggled to find inspiration to do my best. After about 7 or 8 miles, I started to get discouraged over the fact that I hadn't seen anyone in mine or Jamie's familes cheering. I figured there were too many people and that we'd never spot each other. I started running with my head down. And next thing I knew, Jamie and my Mom were high fiving while my Mom shrieked in excitement! I half-hugged my Mom and looked around for my Dad, who was just a short distance down the path, holding a sign that said "Run Rachie Run!" Although I missed my brother, a small glimpse of some loved ones was just what the doctor ordered. In all, I got to see them and one of Jamie's moms, Pat, 4 times thanks to their strategic planning. In fact, my Dad and brother Matt ran alongside me for the beginning of mile 20, which was easily one of the hardest parts of the race for me. My Dad spoke some motivating words and my brother smiled and cheered. And my Mom ran up the final hill with me, both of us in tears just before the finish line, despite numerous Marines asking her to exit the course. The kind of boost that I felt from those moments is beyond words.
Jamie and I split up exactly halfway through, he was on a roll and we knew it was unfair for either of us to expect the other to maintain our own personal paces. We took this on together, and helped each other during training, so running the last 13.1 miles of the race together was not necessary. The atmosphere of the whole event was all we needed. We did see each other at a point where the course loops, and we cheered each other on. Again, another point where I needed to hear some words of encouragement from someone I love. The timing for moments like that throughout the marathon was absolutely perfect.
There was a point when I thought to myself "****! Why did I ever think I should do this?!" But then I remembered how hard I have worked and how far I have come. And I thought of my family who has been by my side for it all. And there was just no way I was going to have to explain why I quit running. So I ran. Sometimes there were people walking faster than I was running, but I was still hopping from foot to foot, maintaining the running stance.
I crossed the finish line in an all-out sprint. After 5 hours and 34 minutes. It was quite a wild ride, and I wouldn't change a second of it.
So, on my list of life goals, I am proud to say I can put a checkmark next to "Run a marathon."
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Sweet Emotions
I am the luckiest girl in the world because my parents and brother Matt will be making the trip to D.C. to cheer during the race. My parents came to Boulder to cheer me on during the Bolder Boulder, and I was very bummed when I finished the race without spotting them, despite the crimped hair, hot pink socks and red and white polka dot apron that I was rocking. So in order to avoid this mix up, I need to make myself even more visible. I mean, my family is traveling across the country just to watch me sweat and stumble through 26.2 miles. And I have a feeling that the most uplifting sight to a runner during a marathon is the sight of loved ones cheering them on. So, I made a tutu. Oh yeah, baby. A luscious, neon green and hot pink tutu. I will be rocking that mamba-jamba all 26.2 miles of the Marine Corps Marathon. Because, what I really think those Marines need is to see a sassy little lady in running shoes and a tutu with an unmistakable look of don't-tread-on-me-determination. Plus, I cannot deny a secret desire to catch President Obama's eye and maybe a nice photo op.
So, tutu = beacon for family + impressing the military men and women + luring the President. I'd say it's a complete package.
I must admit that I have reached the expected time of reflection. Yes, I am beginning to feel like a big emotional ball of goo. These past four months have been a very wild ride, to say the least. And now I am just over one week away from race day. And I can hardly believe it.
So, tutu = beacon for family + impressing the military men and women + luring the President. I'd say it's a complete package.
I'm sure Jamie is just peeing his pants thinking about running a marathon along side his Marine brothers, family, and froo-froo girlfriend dressed like a friggin' glow-in-the-dark muppet.
I'll definitely keep you posted on the exact moment that his eyes well up with tears from the gushing pride when he sees me on race day.
I have one more long run scheduled before the marathon. This Wednesday I will run two miles for my long run. Two miles?!I must admit that I have reached the expected time of reflection. Yes, I am beginning to feel like a big emotional ball of goo. These past four months have been a very wild ride, to say the least. And now I am just over one week away from race day. And I can hardly believe it.
What's strange for me is that although I have reached all of these high points during training, when I look back on say, the 20 mile run, it seems surreal. Like I didn't actually run that. It's like having a memory that you think might have been real but it could have just been a memory from a dream.
I'm ready. Time is dragging. October 31st seems farther away than it has since I began training. What's that? Crazy talk, you say? Walk a day in my shoes, toots. (I didn't initially mean that literally, though it kind of works.) Then you'll really know crazy.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Feets Don't Fail Me Now!
This is the post that I am 100% sure you have definitely not been waiting for.
But I have to do it.
In the name of all things holy, and Lord knows this blog has been blessed by his own hands, I have to write the following. (Not for the faint of heart)
Due to an outrageous amount of miles run this summer, my body has changed in a few ways. That is to be expected, I do believe. However, there has been one change that is exciting in a completely different way.
My feet. I'm pretty sure they are the ugliest feet in tarnation.
I'd even go so far as to say grotesque.
I have blisters and calluses. In fact, there is one spot on my left foot that is now covered with three blisters, one on top of the other. I know, I didn't think that sort of thing was possible either. But it is. Oh it is.
But the blisters and calluses are not alone. No sir. They are accompanied by some seriously screwy toes. I have already lost two toenails, and during the 20 miler, I lost two others. Now, I don't know many of you have lost toenails. I'll estimate 5,000 out of 635,400,000 readers of this blog have lost at lease one. So I'd like to shed some light on this allusive and frightening experience.
What causes this spirial towards annihilation is that your toes repeatedly hit the same spot in your shoe countless times throughout multiple short runs or one long run. This is due either too ill-fitting shoes, downhill running, or just the violent (yes, I would say violent) repetitious toe-slamming that happens within a shoe during activity. One day, you take off your socks and things just don't look familiar. You see a toe, maybe it's the ring toe, or perhaps the pointer toe, and it's a little blue-ish. And it's a little sensitive. And you look closer and realize that it's also a little swollen. Essentially, what you have now is a sort of blood-blister under your toenail. Sounds awesome, right? It gets better.
Now, this baby will remain in this condition for an undetermined amont of time. A week. A month. Who knows? You're at the mercy of the toe. For me, the first toenail that went down this slow path of destruction was kind of intriguing....I didn't quite know what was happening, but I knew it was an injury that really only runners encounter, so that was exciting. I felt like a real runner. But what happens next is less than intriguing, it's actually completely gross. So brace yourself.
You reach a point where this sorry excuse for a toenail starts to drive you mad. This thing is taking over your life. You worry that it's going to fall off at some very inconvenient time (because let's face it, there's no better way to ruin someone's day than by having one of your toenails falls off right in front of them):
So that has been the cycle of my sad, sad feet. As of now, I have lost two and two others are one their way out. Yes, it is a massacre. But do not pity me. Because I am proud of my Frankenstein Feet. All it means is that these tootsies have seen some miles.
But I have to do it.
In the name of all things holy, and Lord knows this blog has been blessed by his own hands, I have to write the following. (Not for the faint of heart)
Due to an outrageous amount of miles run this summer, my body has changed in a few ways. That is to be expected, I do believe. However, there has been one change that is exciting in a completely different way.
My feet. I'm pretty sure they are the ugliest feet in tarnation.
I'd even go so far as to say grotesque.
I have blisters and calluses. In fact, there is one spot on my left foot that is now covered with three blisters, one on top of the other. I know, I didn't think that sort of thing was possible either. But it is. Oh it is.
But the blisters and calluses are not alone. No sir. They are accompanied by some seriously screwy toes. I have already lost two toenails, and during the 20 miler, I lost two others. Now, I don't know many of you have lost toenails. I'll estimate 5,000 out of 635,400,000 readers of this blog have lost at lease one. So I'd like to shed some light on this allusive and frightening experience.
What causes this spirial towards annihilation is that your toes repeatedly hit the same spot in your shoe countless times throughout multiple short runs or one long run. This is due either too ill-fitting shoes, downhill running, or just the violent (yes, I would say violent) repetitious toe-slamming that happens within a shoe during activity. One day, you take off your socks and things just don't look familiar. You see a toe, maybe it's the ring toe, or perhaps the pointer toe, and it's a little blue-ish. And it's a little sensitive. And you look closer and realize that it's also a little swollen. Essentially, what you have now is a sort of blood-blister under your toenail. Sounds awesome, right? It gets better.
Now, this baby will remain in this condition for an undetermined amont of time. A week. A month. Who knows? You're at the mercy of the toe. For me, the first toenail that went down this slow path of destruction was kind of intriguing....I didn't quite know what was happening, but I knew it was an injury that really only runners encounter, so that was exciting. I felt like a real runner. But what happens next is less than intriguing, it's actually completely gross. So brace yourself.
You reach a point where this sorry excuse for a toenail starts to drive you mad. This thing is taking over your life. You worry that it's going to fall off at some very inconvenient time (because let's face it, there's no better way to ruin someone's day than by having one of your toenails falls off right in front of them):
- When you're in a business meetin'
- When you're having a picnic
- When you're ordering a mojito on a patio
- When you're snuggled in bed
- When you're sharing a milkshake
- When you're showing off some dance moves
Finally, if you're like me, you decide to take matters into your own hands. And you spend days trying to work up the courage for what needs to be done. Do you remember pulling out your first tooth as a little kid? Because that tooth just dangles there, and it's no good for nothin'. It's gotta go. You give it a little yank and "pop!" you're gappy-toothed. Same idea, different body part. And while the "popping" isn't painful, it is still traumatic. Because you start to feel a little separation anxiety. That toe is missing it's partner in crime. It's missing it's Robin. It's Ernie. It's Clyde. And it just plum looks weird. I mean, a nail-less toe? That's just wrong.
But time goes on, and after the shock wears off, you start to notice a new life sprouting into that toe. And you realize how delicate the circle of life really is.So that has been the cycle of my sad, sad feet. As of now, I have lost two and two others are one their way out. Yes, it is a massacre. But do not pity me. Because I am proud of my Frankenstein Feet. All it means is that these tootsies have seen some miles.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Wish I could be a pea pod.
A friend of mine (Renoodle) recently asked me what I was going to be for Halloween. I replied "I'm going to be running a marathon, that's what I'll be."
At this point, she proceeded to make suggestions of what I should be while running the marathon. Her ideas were to wear an afro wig, dress as an M&M, or a pea pod. While all of these sound like perfectly wonderful Halloween costumes, particularly if you're six, I'm not quite sure I can actually consider wearing them. You see, running 26.2 miles in a big red felt M&M just doesn't really seem plausible for me at this time.
But it got me thinking...what are some costumes that people actually do wear during a marathon?
Allow me to rock your world:
At this point, she proceeded to make suggestions of what I should be while running the marathon. Her ideas were to wear an afro wig, dress as an M&M, or a pea pod. While all of these sound like perfectly wonderful Halloween costumes, particularly if you're six, I'm not quite sure I can actually consider wearing them. You see, running 26.2 miles in a big red felt M&M just doesn't really seem plausible for me at this time.
But it got me thinking...what are some costumes that people actually do wear during a marathon?
Allow me to rock your world:
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Boulder to Logan Lane
Yesterday was the day that I have been dreading since beginning training. The 20 miler.
Jamie and I joined forces again for this last really big run. We ran from 55th, right by the Boulder Res, to my parent's house in north Longmont. We accidently deviated from the original course slightly and ended up running 19 miles. Still pretty good, I would say.
We both felt great after...laughing and talking with the Costanza's (my funny nickname for my Mom and Dad, which is kind of bittersweet because I guess that makes me George). And we were starving! So we headed on over to one of my favorite places to dine in the 'Mont; the Red Zone. This brings me to the point of this post, the most confusing things about running long runs.
First of all, as I previously mentioned, our stomaches were screaming at us! And you'd think that after running for four hours and not eating for about eight hours, that a little burger and fries would hardly be enough (and some southwestern egg rolls). But it feels as though your body sort of rejects such hearty foods because it's in panic mode. You just pushed your body to it's absolute limit and it is trying to straighten itself out. So while your mind is getting really pumped up about this plate of food in front of you, your stomach is quickly sending the signals that it is not prepared to be engourged. And let me tell you, folks, this is bit of a bummer. Eating an obnoxious meal after a long run is the best way to celebrate what you just accomplished, but it's no fun when more than half of it gets packed up in a to-go box.
After you've just attemped and failed to stuff your face, you start to feel a wittle sleepy...
But you're freezing! Sweatshirt, walrus pants, down comforter, and socks all team up to try to help your body maintain a healthy temperature. But it cannot be done. For the next couple of days, body temperature fluctuates like a roller coaster.
So you're snuggled now. And you turn off the light and close your eyes, so happy that now you can sleep. But surprise! You body slaps you in the face with another dose of cold, cold reality. There is way too much happening inside of you for your old bag-of-bones to let you sleep! So now you toss and turn all night, feeling the soreness settle into your joints and muscles. It's kind of like waking up when you're still drunk, and you have the great pleasure of feeling the hangover gradually hit you as the morning creeps by. Never fun.
24 hours post-run, Jamie and I are both feeling ill. Flu symptoms, perhaps.
The fact of the matter is that the body goes into shock in multiple ways. So virtually every calorie that you consume post-run goes towards repairing the damage that you just incurred on every inch of your being. And because your body is working so hard in this department, your immune system is weakened.
How ironic that after pushing your body to perform at it's best and strongest, you feel the worst and weakest.
But it's all okay because that was one of the best long runs of all. Aside from the sick-ish feeling, my muscles and other parts don't feel as beat up as they used to after long runs. So that's tremendous progress.
This run was further proof of just how far we've come this summer. And that's a feeling that just can't be described.
Jamie and I joined forces again for this last really big run. We ran from 55th, right by the Boulder Res, to my parent's house in north Longmont. We accidently deviated from the original course slightly and ended up running 19 miles. Still pretty good, I would say.
We both felt great after...laughing and talking with the Costanza's (my funny nickname for my Mom and Dad, which is kind of bittersweet because I guess that makes me George). And we were starving! So we headed on over to one of my favorite places to dine in the 'Mont; the Red Zone. This brings me to the point of this post, the most confusing things about running long runs.
First of all, as I previously mentioned, our stomaches were screaming at us! And you'd think that after running for four hours and not eating for about eight hours, that a little burger and fries would hardly be enough (and some southwestern egg rolls). But it feels as though your body sort of rejects such hearty foods because it's in panic mode. You just pushed your body to it's absolute limit and it is trying to straighten itself out. So while your mind is getting really pumped up about this plate of food in front of you, your stomach is quickly sending the signals that it is not prepared to be engourged. And let me tell you, folks, this is bit of a bummer. Eating an obnoxious meal after a long run is the best way to celebrate what you just accomplished, but it's no fun when more than half of it gets packed up in a to-go box.
After you've just attemped and failed to stuff your face, you start to feel a wittle sleepy...
But you're freezing! Sweatshirt, walrus pants, down comforter, and socks all team up to try to help your body maintain a healthy temperature. But it cannot be done. For the next couple of days, body temperature fluctuates like a roller coaster.
So you're snuggled now. And you turn off the light and close your eyes, so happy that now you can sleep. But surprise! You body slaps you in the face with another dose of cold, cold reality. There is way too much happening inside of you for your old bag-of-bones to let you sleep! So now you toss and turn all night, feeling the soreness settle into your joints and muscles. It's kind of like waking up when you're still drunk, and you have the great pleasure of feeling the hangover gradually hit you as the morning creeps by. Never fun.
24 hours post-run, Jamie and I are both feeling ill. Flu symptoms, perhaps.
The fact of the matter is that the body goes into shock in multiple ways. So virtually every calorie that you consume post-run goes towards repairing the damage that you just incurred on every inch of your being. And because your body is working so hard in this department, your immune system is weakened.
How ironic that after pushing your body to perform at it's best and strongest, you feel the worst and weakest.
But it's all okay because that was one of the best long runs of all. Aside from the sick-ish feeling, my muscles and other parts don't feel as beat up as they used to after long runs. So that's tremendous progress.
This run was further proof of just how far we've come this summer. And that's a feeling that just can't be described.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Animals are like, totally awesome, man.
Today, I'd like to declare my love for BBC.
I've been renting these nature shows from Netflix. The last one I watched was "Nature's Most Amazing Events: Disk 1." And wow. Really interesting stuff goin' on in nature.
I find it quite inspiring, really. Go ahead, make fun of me. But I'm telling you, people, animals do some amazing things that make us humans look like total sissies. Take polar bears, for example. They go four months without food, and still manage to survive in some of the world's harshest conditions. And there are numerous species of birds who travel 600 miles when they migrate. They just fly, fly, fly.
So these are things I was thinking about this morning, on my 12 mile run. I was thinking about how hungry I was because I hadn't eaten since dinner last night, and I just had a piece of bread for breakfast. But that's only like 10 hours without food. If I were a polar bear, I'd be so screwed! Also, I only had to travel 12 miles, and for fun, not even for survival. So if I were a bird, I'd also be completely effed.
I'm striving to take a hint from Motha' Nature and just toughen up. I don't have to hunt for my dinner every week. Swimming in ice cold water is not a part of my daily commute. I never have to hold my breath for 15 minutes while I search for the
nearest hole in a massive ice chunk that is considered a continent. And pulling up a body full of blubber (I'm lookin' at you, walruses) onto that ice chunk to soak up some sun is not a typical activity in which I partake. And I almost never have to flap my wings for four months straight just to get a little warm weather.
(Not Me)
So running every once in awhile really ain't no thang.
All I'm trying to say is, good thing I'm a human 'cause it'd be real rough to be a wild animal.
I've been renting these nature shows from Netflix. The last one I watched was "Nature's Most Amazing Events: Disk 1." And wow. Really interesting stuff goin' on in nature.
I find it quite inspiring, really. Go ahead, make fun of me. But I'm telling you, people, animals do some amazing things that make us humans look like total sissies. Take polar bears, for example. They go four months without food, and still manage to survive in some of the world's harshest conditions. And there are numerous species of birds who travel 600 miles when they migrate. They just fly, fly, fly.
So these are things I was thinking about this morning, on my 12 mile run. I was thinking about how hungry I was because I hadn't eaten since dinner last night, and I just had a piece of bread for breakfast. But that's only like 10 hours without food. If I were a polar bear, I'd be so screwed! Also, I only had to travel 12 miles, and for fun, not even for survival. So if I were a bird, I'd also be completely effed.
I'm striving to take a hint from Motha' Nature and just toughen up. I don't have to hunt for my dinner every week. Swimming in ice cold water is not a part of my daily commute. I never have to hold my breath for 15 minutes while I search for the
nearest hole in a massive ice chunk that is considered a continent. And pulling up a body full of blubber (I'm lookin' at you, walruses) onto that ice chunk to soak up some sun is not a typical activity in which I partake. And I almost never have to flap my wings for four months straight just to get a little warm weather.(Not Me)
So running every once in awhile really ain't no thang.
All I'm trying to say is, good thing I'm a human 'cause it'd be real rough to be a wild animal.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Two Pizza Guys and a pair of Walrus pants
Today was full of realizations.
First, a very serious realization as I watched a documentary before the run called "Restepo." It is about some army guys stationed in the same region of Afghanistan that Jamie was stationed in a few years before as a Marine. There were many thoughts racing through my head as I absorbed this movie, but in an attempt to keep this posting light and upbeat (and hilarious as always), I will just say that I intend to give every single Marine a HUGE high five as I run the marathon. And I'd really like to give a large number of hugs too, because those are pretty much life's jelly beans. 'Cause that's the least I can do.
Second, a not so serious realization that I have a video camera on my new ipod, E.T.! No big deal. Naturally, I decided to bust this baby out a couple times on my run since I was solo. And let me say, this was the best decision I ever made. Please, behold the artistry:
A big shout out to E.T. for his crystal clear picture and sound. Really didn't miss a beat. Such glorious detail.
Third, energy gels are really gross but oh-so-magical. They're too sweet and too salty but once that viscous goo hits your tongue, something in you screams "wooooooooop-ah!" Now, I've only just begun to dabble in the goo-pool, but I'm finding that results are typically quite good after consumption. They give you the energy you need without taking up room in your stomach. I was actually pondering the complexity of said gels when I came to my fourth and most ridiculous, but not final, realization...
I lost my car key. Somewhere between Peppermint Lane (there was going to be a whole series of videos in which I name the place where I am running based on some stupid and meaningless observation. It was gunna be great.) and goo number three, my key slipped right out of my water-bottle-hand-purse. This was difficult to face because I was actually really enjoying this run, for the first time in weeks, and I still had at least five to seven miles to go. It was rainy and chilly, and the road was muddy and very quiet. I chose a route between Boulder and Longmont on dirt roads where it's relatively flat. And the plan was to stop at my car twice during the run to adjust clothing as necessary for the weather and to fill up my water bottle and goo supply. So, for the first time ever, I carried my key with me and enabled the security system on the Flying-Tomato (i.e. I manually locked all the doors and rolled up the windows, also manually). So I decided to retrace my steps in hopes of running across the key. Of course, conditions were perfect for a teeney little key to get run over by a car and squished right into the mud. I was facing west, growing painfully aware of imminent darkness, and therefore, increased invisibility of the key and also of me. I didn't bring a light with me or any reflective gear and my jacket is a lovely but useless shade of eggplant. My cell phone was in my car. Now I begin running through my options :
1. Miraculously find the key and run back to Flying Tomato with no harm done
2. Pull over some rando and hope that they will allow me to use a phone
3. Knock on a rando's front door and remove muddy shoes before asking for a phone
4. Run back to the car and break the window with my bare knuckles
I chose option 2. And I chose the car carefully, being ever-so aware of my vunerability. A car with a pizza delivery sign on top (not sure which pizza place) was driving towards me and I thought "boo-yah!" I waved my hands and pizza guy #1 pulled over and allowed me to use his iphone or gnome or giga-pet or whatever it was. And I dialed Jamie's number (I'm freakishly good with memorizing numbers) because he has my spare key and I had emailed my route to him before I left, so that if something happened, he'd have helpful information. He didn't answer so I left a message describing the remainder of my route and where my car was parked. And I continued to run, now being motivated by a very familiar feeling; fear of the dark.
I finally reached the road on which I was parked, frantically looking for Jamie's car. Nothing. And I begin to reassess my situation. I'm out of water, got a belly full of goo and nothing else, and hardly any clothes on. I could knock on doors and ask for a ride, but I'm a relatively small woman in a remote part of town and though the chances are slim that something terrible would actually happen, I wasn't sure I wanted to risk it. Needless to say, I was beginning to panic a bit. But I kept telling myself to keep cool because everything's going to be fine. And low-and-behold, I see the headlights of the Silver Shredder (Jamie's civic), lighting my path to safety.
The last realization was quite simple really. The universe was sending me a message. And I got it loud and clear because in the face of danger, you often have no choice but to leave your fate in the hands of unseen forces. So I did what I knew I had to do when I got home. I called the first pizza place that came into mind and I ordered a large veggie supreme. With garlic breadsticks. After a night like that, what a girl really needs is to snuggle into her favorite walrus p.j. pants that she's literally had since she was 12, and her favorite Shorty's sweatswirt and stuff her face with pizza while participating in night three or four of a Godfather Movie Marathon.
First, a very serious realization as I watched a documentary before the run called "Restepo." It is about some army guys stationed in the same region of Afghanistan that Jamie was stationed in a few years before as a Marine. There were many thoughts racing through my head as I absorbed this movie, but in an attempt to keep this posting light and upbeat (and hilarious as always), I will just say that I intend to give every single Marine a HUGE high five as I run the marathon. And I'd really like to give a large number of hugs too, because those are pretty much life's jelly beans. 'Cause that's the least I can do.
Second, a not so serious realization that I have a video camera on my new ipod, E.T.! No big deal. Naturally, I decided to bust this baby out a couple times on my run since I was solo. And let me say, this was the best decision I ever made. Please, behold the artistry:
A big shout out to E.T. for his crystal clear picture and sound. Really didn't miss a beat. Such glorious detail.
Third, energy gels are really gross but oh-so-magical. They're too sweet and too salty but once that viscous goo hits your tongue, something in you screams "wooooooooop-ah!" Now, I've only just begun to dabble in the goo-pool, but I'm finding that results are typically quite good after consumption. They give you the energy you need without taking up room in your stomach. I was actually pondering the complexity of said gels when I came to my fourth and most ridiculous, but not final, realization...
I lost my car key. Somewhere between Peppermint Lane (there was going to be a whole series of videos in which I name the place where I am running based on some stupid and meaningless observation. It was gunna be great.) and goo number three, my key slipped right out of my water-bottle-hand-purse. This was difficult to face because I was actually really enjoying this run, for the first time in weeks, and I still had at least five to seven miles to go. It was rainy and chilly, and the road was muddy and very quiet. I chose a route between Boulder and Longmont on dirt roads where it's relatively flat. And the plan was to stop at my car twice during the run to adjust clothing as necessary for the weather and to fill up my water bottle and goo supply. So, for the first time ever, I carried my key with me and enabled the security system on the Flying-Tomato (i.e. I manually locked all the doors and rolled up the windows, also manually). So I decided to retrace my steps in hopes of running across the key. Of course, conditions were perfect for a teeney little key to get run over by a car and squished right into the mud. I was facing west, growing painfully aware of imminent darkness, and therefore, increased invisibility of the key and also of me. I didn't bring a light with me or any reflective gear and my jacket is a lovely but useless shade of eggplant. My cell phone was in my car. Now I begin running through my options :
1. Miraculously find the key and run back to Flying Tomato with no harm done
2. Pull over some rando and hope that they will allow me to use a phone
3. Knock on a rando's front door and remove muddy shoes before asking for a phone
4. Run back to the car and break the window with my bare knuckles
I chose option 2. And I chose the car carefully, being ever-so aware of my vunerability. A car with a pizza delivery sign on top (not sure which pizza place) was driving towards me and I thought "boo-yah!" I waved my hands and pizza guy #1 pulled over and allowed me to use his iphone or gnome or giga-pet or whatever it was. And I dialed Jamie's number (I'm freakishly good with memorizing numbers) because he has my spare key and I had emailed my route to him before I left, so that if something happened, he'd have helpful information. He didn't answer so I left a message describing the remainder of my route and where my car was parked. And I continued to run, now being motivated by a very familiar feeling; fear of the dark.
I finally reached the road on which I was parked, frantically looking for Jamie's car. Nothing. And I begin to reassess my situation. I'm out of water, got a belly full of goo and nothing else, and hardly any clothes on. I could knock on doors and ask for a ride, but I'm a relatively small woman in a remote part of town and though the chances are slim that something terrible would actually happen, I wasn't sure I wanted to risk it. Needless to say, I was beginning to panic a bit. But I kept telling myself to keep cool because everything's going to be fine. And low-and-behold, I see the headlights of the Silver Shredder (Jamie's civic), lighting my path to safety.
The last realization was quite simple really. The universe was sending me a message. And I got it loud and clear because in the face of danger, you often have no choice but to leave your fate in the hands of unseen forces. So I did what I knew I had to do when I got home. I called the first pizza place that came into mind and I ordered a large veggie supreme. With garlic breadsticks. After a night like that, what a girl really needs is to snuggle into her favorite walrus p.j. pants that she's literally had since she was 12, and her favorite Shorty's sweatswirt and stuff her face with pizza while participating in night three or four of a Godfather Movie Marathon.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Does your Face Hurt?
After a tough 15 miler yesterday, I woke up with the realization that there are just over 6 1/2 weeks to marathon day.
Here is my confession to the running gods:
Forgive me Forrest (he's gotta be one of the running gods, right?!), for I have sinned. It's been never since my last confession. I have been having impure thoughts about consuming carbs...and not working them off.
And it gets worse, for I have indulged in a bit of booze on the sacred Sunday (medium run day).
Yes Forrest, I will say 50 Oprah Winfreys.
I've been less structured with training during the past few weeks than I was in the beginning. After training hard and diligently for a month and a half or so, I started to feel a lot of progress and growth and got excited. So I skipped a few short run days here and there. And then Jamie and I took a week off to let our bodies heal (you always feel sore when you're training for a marathon, in some way or another). And then I sustained a minor injury of some sort to my hip during our 17 miler, which hurt when I ran. At this same time, Boulder was being smothered by smoke from the fire and all residents were being advised to avoid outdoor activity. So, the 15 mile run was quite challenging for me yesterday.
I believe this is the part during training where burn-out becomes a factor. You have to re-evaluate where your head is at in this whole process. And your heart. You have to remind yourself what you love about every single run.
The first half of the run was not enjoyable for me. I was not dedicated to it. But then I got over the wall and started to really feel that familiar buzzzzzzz.
So here I am, officially re-committing to training. There's a month and a half left and I intend to use that time to build the necessary strengh and endurance in my body and mind. I want to run every step of that 26.2 race. So no more excuses.
In the very wise words of my basketball coach (and Dad): "Does your face hurt...?"
To which you always respond with a groan and a whiney "noooo..."
(Coach/Dad) "Well, it's killin' me!"
In other words, no excuses.
Here is my confession to the running gods:
Forgive me Forrest (he's gotta be one of the running gods, right?!), for I have sinned. It's been never since my last confession. I have been having impure thoughts about consuming carbs...and not working them off.
And it gets worse, for I have indulged in a bit of booze on the sacred Sunday (medium run day).
Yes Forrest, I will say 50 Oprah Winfreys.
I've been less structured with training during the past few weeks than I was in the beginning. After training hard and diligently for a month and a half or so, I started to feel a lot of progress and growth and got excited. So I skipped a few short run days here and there. And then Jamie and I took a week off to let our bodies heal (you always feel sore when you're training for a marathon, in some way or another). And then I sustained a minor injury of some sort to my hip during our 17 miler, which hurt when I ran. At this same time, Boulder was being smothered by smoke from the fire and all residents were being advised to avoid outdoor activity. So, the 15 mile run was quite challenging for me yesterday.
I believe this is the part during training where burn-out becomes a factor. You have to re-evaluate where your head is at in this whole process. And your heart. You have to remind yourself what you love about every single run.
The first half of the run was not enjoyable for me. I was not dedicated to it. But then I got over the wall and started to really feel that familiar buzzzzzzz.
So here I am, officially re-committing to training. There's a month and a half left and I intend to use that time to build the necessary strengh and endurance in my body and mind. I want to run every step of that 26.2 race. So no more excuses.
In the very wise words of my basketball coach (and Dad): "Does your face hurt...?"
To which you always respond with a groan and a whiney "noooo..."
(Coach/Dad) "Well, it's killin' me!"
In other words, no excuses.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
P. Diddy
Since this hasn't been the most productive week training-wise, I thought "hey, let's give 'em somethin' to talk about."
Naturally, the best way to get people talkin' is by presenting them with some facts. So I did a little research.
Here are some interesting facts about marathons:
* Historically, the tradition of the marathon began after the battle of Marathon in ancient Greece in 490 B.C. With a victory over the Persians, a messenger was sent to Athens (22 miles from Marathon) to announce the good news to all those gorgeous Greeks. After running this distance, Pheidippides, the messenger, squeaked out the words "Greetings, we win!" and then dropped dead. Needless to say, this story gets me really psyched up.
* The majority of female marathon runners are ages 25-29 years.
* The average woman burns 2,880 calories during 26.2 miles.
* 4:32 is the average time in which U.S. women complete a marathon.
* For men, the average time is 4:16
* World record for women: 2:15:25 Paula Radcliffe
* World record for men: 2:03:59 Haile Gebrselassie
* To get a feel of the speed required in order to be considered an elite runner, hop on a treadmill and turn that baby up to it's max, 12 miles an hour. That means you'd be running a 5 minute mile, which would put you in the top percentage of racers.
* At the 1996 Olympic trials, Bob Kempainen threw up 6 times between mile 22 and the finish....and he still won. (Again, I'm feeling really pumped)
* Some famous people who have finished marathons:
- Lance Armstrong, twice (big surprise)
- George W. Bush
- Sarah Palin
- Will Ferrel
- Mario Lopez (I wonder if he was..."saved by the bell" at the finish. Ha!)
- Freddie Prinze, Jr.
- Oprah Winfrey (ran the Marine Corps Marathon, as a matter of fact.)
- David Lee Roth
- John Edwards (also MCM)
- Al Gore (also MCM)
- P. Diddy (my personal favorite.) Here he is, probably training pretty hard, so he's just a little thirsty:
So there ya go. Carry these facts with you, always.
Naturally, the best way to get people talkin' is by presenting them with some facts. So I did a little research.
Here are some interesting facts about marathons:
* Historically, the tradition of the marathon began after the battle of Marathon in ancient Greece in 490 B.C. With a victory over the Persians, a messenger was sent to Athens (22 miles from Marathon) to announce the good news to all those gorgeous Greeks. After running this distance, Pheidippides, the messenger, squeaked out the words "Greetings, we win!" and then dropped dead. Needless to say, this story gets me really psyched up.
* The majority of female marathon runners are ages 25-29 years.
* The average woman burns 2,880 calories during 26.2 miles.
* 4:32 is the average time in which U.S. women complete a marathon.
* For men, the average time is 4:16
* World record for women: 2:15:25 Paula Radcliffe
* World record for men: 2:03:59 Haile Gebrselassie
* To get a feel of the speed required in order to be considered an elite runner, hop on a treadmill and turn that baby up to it's max, 12 miles an hour. That means you'd be running a 5 minute mile, which would put you in the top percentage of racers.
* At the 1996 Olympic trials, Bob Kempainen threw up 6 times between mile 22 and the finish....and he still won. (Again, I'm feeling really pumped)
* Some famous people who have finished marathons:
- Lance Armstrong, twice (big surprise)
- George W. Bush
- Sarah Palin
- Will Ferrel
- Mario Lopez (I wonder if he was..."saved by the bell" at the finish. Ha!)
- Freddie Prinze, Jr.
- Oprah Winfrey (ran the Marine Corps Marathon, as a matter of fact.)
- David Lee Roth
- John Edwards (also MCM)
- Al Gore (also MCM)
- P. Diddy (my personal favorite.) Here he is, probably training pretty hard, so he's just a little thirsty:
So there ya go. Carry these facts with you, always.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Bad News
In case you haven't heard, Boulder is under a blanket of smoke. There is a raging fire burning just a few miles away that has destroyed many homes and is wreaking havok on the area. It started on Monday morning and we could see the first smoke plume floating over Boulder, heading east. Now it seems as though the smoke is settling into the valley in which Boulder is situated. It's incredibly hazy at different points in the day, and long distance visibility is touch-and-go. It's being called a catastrophic fire. I am only telling you this because I have never experienced such a strange occurance. Though I can hardly imagine what people farther up the canyon are feeling, those who have already lost their homes and those who are still unsure as to whether or not theirs can be saved. It's quite saddening, to say the least. Though it is being reported that the fire didn't grow at all during the night, thanks to cooler temperatures and weaker winds.
It seems irrelevant to write anything about training while this is happening.
Though I will say that we skipped our 18 mile run this morning because of the smoke. Seems counterproductive to try to run such a distance when you're not actually breathing in fresh air. We decided it was best not to risk it. However, I haven't run in a week, except for a teeny 2.5 miler, because of a possible injury that I sustained during last week's long run. So today, despite the poor air quality, I will go for a small run and determine if this injury will require a trip to the doc.
Hopefully the mild weather today will aid in the fight against the worst fire this canyon has seen.
It seems irrelevant to write anything about training while this is happening.
Though I will say that we skipped our 18 mile run this morning because of the smoke. Seems counterproductive to try to run such a distance when you're not actually breathing in fresh air. We decided it was best not to risk it. However, I haven't run in a week, except for a teeny 2.5 miler, because of a possible injury that I sustained during last week's long run. So today, despite the poor air quality, I will go for a small run and determine if this injury will require a trip to the doc.
Hopefully the mild weather today will aid in the fight against the worst fire this canyon has seen.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
hit by a train?!
Here is the route that chewed us up and spit us out:
So this one was a little rough. Once we hit mile 14 or 15, it seemed as though our bodies were working against us. We both wanted to finish that damn run, but your body just screams at you to stop. I imagine if my body could talk, at mile 14 last night, it would have said "please, stop the madness!" (Or maybe something a little more vulgar, but this is a family show.) We both decided to stop and walk at about 16.5 or so, but we kicked it into high gear for about the last quarter mile just to really seal the deal. After pushing your joints and muscles far beyond their normal limit, you hurt in ways that you never really knew you could hurt. And the funny thing is that although the act of running is what is causing every inch of your lower half to ache, that same act is the quickest way out, because the more you walk, the longer you'll be out there.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. Just trying to spread the word that hey, training for a marathon is anything but easy. But despite all the hard work and physical discomfort, I still want to get out there once a week and do a really long run.
Top 5 fantasies during the last 5 miles:
1. ICE CREAM! Jamie and I almost always reward ourselves with the world's most incredible edible, however, as sad as it is, we were both so very wiped out last night that we skipped it.
2. Food - something salty and hardy, last night I was thinking about soup
3. Beer
4. Shower - hot, and looooooooooong
5. Aspirin and the dreamy mattress that fills up half of my apartment. (Maybe you think this counts as two seperate fantasies, but you're wrong)
Oh, you may have noticed I changed things up in the design department of this here blog. The flames really spoke to my soul. Everyone knows that flames are the surest way to amp up the thrill factor.
I'm raw, hustla, getcho bakin' soda.
So this one was a little rough. Once we hit mile 14 or 15, it seemed as though our bodies were working against us. We both wanted to finish that damn run, but your body just screams at you to stop. I imagine if my body could talk, at mile 14 last night, it would have said "please, stop the madness!" (Or maybe something a little more vulgar, but this is a family show.) We both decided to stop and walk at about 16.5 or so, but we kicked it into high gear for about the last quarter mile just to really seal the deal. After pushing your joints and muscles far beyond their normal limit, you hurt in ways that you never really knew you could hurt. And the funny thing is that although the act of running is what is causing every inch of your lower half to ache, that same act is the quickest way out, because the more you walk, the longer you'll be out there.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. Just trying to spread the word that hey, training for a marathon is anything but easy. But despite all the hard work and physical discomfort, I still want to get out there once a week and do a really long run.
Top 5 fantasies during the last 5 miles:
1. ICE CREAM! Jamie and I almost always reward ourselves with the world's most incredible edible, however, as sad as it is, we were both so very wiped out last night that we skipped it.
2. Food - something salty and hardy, last night I was thinking about soup
3. Beer
4. Shower - hot, and looooooooooong
5. Aspirin and the dreamy mattress that fills up half of my apartment. (Maybe you think this counts as two seperate fantasies, but you're wrong)
Oh, you may have noticed I changed things up in the design department of this here blog. The flames really spoke to my soul. Everyone knows that flames are the surest way to amp up the thrill factor.
I'm raw, hustla, getcho bakin' soda.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
This one goes out to Mike...
I took a week off. Six entire days without running. I'm going to go ahead and say it: it was kinda nice. I've been running quite steadily since January 1st, with a couple of weeks off here and there, and running a pretty strict training schedule for just short of two months now. So it was a nice break to just not run for a few days. Although, I didn't plan it this way. Jamie said he was going to take a week off after our last long run, but I didn't think I could afford to take time off for fear of losing progress. But life interferred a little bit, and I think it was for the best.
Boy oh boy, did I have a week. I had the kind of week that makes you feel a little crazy. I was riding my bike two days ago (coming to the end of the aforementioned week) and saw a moving truck with a ramp. And because I was feeling a little nutty, I thought, for a split second, of how outrageous it would be to ride my bike up into that truck without hitting the brakes. Not in a dangerous or self-destructive kind of way, just sort of imagining how ridiculous that would be. It was that kind of week.
So I did a little retail therapy. Some supa-fly running shoes and a ballin' new iPod nano. It's all for the running, folks. The iPod was a bit of an impulse buy as I was charging my tiny iPod shuffle and noticed it didn't seem to be connecting correctly to my computer. It's probably broken beyond repair, so I NEED a new one, no question about it. New iPod is in the mail...shazam! As for the shoes, Jamie and I went to the Boulder Running Company. I have to admit, I've been avoiding that place. You know the people who work there are super gung-ho about running and shoes and I'm quite cheap and tend to be skeptical about gel-enhanced soles and sweat-wicking body suits. But I got really lucky and had the great pleasure of being assisted by Mike (or maybe it was John, I glanced at his nametag, it was definitely one of those). Mike, Mike, Mike. You really made my day. First of all, this man brought out three shoes to try, of which I instantly picked my favorite. We then proceeded to the treadmill where they record your running form in the shoes and evaluate whether or not it's a good fit. And these babies were like my own Ironman suit...custom tailored to my apparently very confusing feet. That's right, my feet measure a size seven in length but a size six in some other form of measurement that is known only to the world of shoe salesmen. I know, it's a total mind blow. But Mike wasn't even phased by this abnormality. No way, Jose. He found me the perfect shoe, right off the bat. And, the best part about Mike was that he happens to be an expert marathon runner, ("well, I've only run seven" he says to the first time marathoner who is in awe of his awesomeness). And, it gets better. He used to live in D.C. and though he never ran the Marine Corps Marathon, he did pace a few of his friends through their last few miles, so he is super familiar with the course.
Now, I've been pretty adament about not knowing anything about the course of the race. I tend to adhere to the "what you don't know can't hurt you" philosophy. My parents have seen the course, Jamie and his family have seen it, but I didn't want to know anything about it. Until I met Mike and he unknowingly ruined this strategy for me. But it's ok because not only did I get a very descriptive run-through of the route, but he also gave me a very big tip which I would have regretted not knowing: the last .65 mile of the race is up a steep hill. So, he says, "incorporate some fatigue uphill in your long runs so that you are mentally prepared for that last stretch because it will be hard." Luckily, I now live on the tallest hill in residential Boulder, even taller than the last hill I lived on. So a big thanks to Mike, who was full of information and advice, and completely empty of a big huge ego. I will most definitely be going back to that store because it is full of experienced marathoners and at least one ultra-ist (an ultra marathon is 100 miles!)who love talking about running.
So after six days off, I went for my long run yesterday, as scheduled, an 11-miler. It took a few miles to work out the kinks that had developed. And, although I knew all experts would advise against this, I wore my brand new kicks. Great decision! It was a lovely evening on the Creek Path, and I was rocking to a new playlist (titled "funky fresh"). Looks like Jamie and I will be running our long runs separately because he started school for the fall and his schedule doesn't allow for long runs on Wednesdays anymore. I have to say, I was bummed about this at first, because despite all of my teasing and jokes, Jamie is the ideal running partner and I have a lot of fun on long runs with him. But I have a new gadget coming soon and two months to really find my chi on long runs. Besides, who's to say this is the only marathon Jamie and I will train for?!
Here is a link to the 3-D Map of the MCM course. I still haven't watched it though, I want to have a few surprises...I've never been to Washington, D.C.!
http://www.marinemarathon.com/mcm_community/Video_Archives/3D_Video_Course_Tour.htm
Boy oh boy, did I have a week. I had the kind of week that makes you feel a little crazy. I was riding my bike two days ago (coming to the end of the aforementioned week) and saw a moving truck with a ramp. And because I was feeling a little nutty, I thought, for a split second, of how outrageous it would be to ride my bike up into that truck without hitting the brakes. Not in a dangerous or self-destructive kind of way, just sort of imagining how ridiculous that would be. It was that kind of week.
So I did a little retail therapy. Some supa-fly running shoes and a ballin' new iPod nano. It's all for the running, folks. The iPod was a bit of an impulse buy as I was charging my tiny iPod shuffle and noticed it didn't seem to be connecting correctly to my computer. It's probably broken beyond repair, so I NEED a new one, no question about it. New iPod is in the mail...shazam! As for the shoes, Jamie and I went to the Boulder Running Company. I have to admit, I've been avoiding that place. You know the people who work there are super gung-ho about running and shoes and I'm quite cheap and tend to be skeptical about gel-enhanced soles and sweat-wicking body suits. But I got really lucky and had the great pleasure of being assisted by Mike (or maybe it was John, I glanced at his nametag, it was definitely one of those). Mike, Mike, Mike. You really made my day. First of all, this man brought out three shoes to try, of which I instantly picked my favorite. We then proceeded to the treadmill where they record your running form in the shoes and evaluate whether or not it's a good fit. And these babies were like my own Ironman suit...custom tailored to my apparently very confusing feet. That's right, my feet measure a size seven in length but a size six in some other form of measurement that is known only to the world of shoe salesmen. I know, it's a total mind blow. But Mike wasn't even phased by this abnormality. No way, Jose. He found me the perfect shoe, right off the bat. And, the best part about Mike was that he happens to be an expert marathon runner, ("well, I've only run seven" he says to the first time marathoner who is in awe of his awesomeness). And, it gets better. He used to live in D.C. and though he never ran the Marine Corps Marathon, he did pace a few of his friends through their last few miles, so he is super familiar with the course.
Now, I've been pretty adament about not knowing anything about the course of the race. I tend to adhere to the "what you don't know can't hurt you" philosophy. My parents have seen the course, Jamie and his family have seen it, but I didn't want to know anything about it. Until I met Mike and he unknowingly ruined this strategy for me. But it's ok because not only did I get a very descriptive run-through of the route, but he also gave me a very big tip which I would have regretted not knowing: the last .65 mile of the race is up a steep hill. So, he says, "incorporate some fatigue uphill in your long runs so that you are mentally prepared for that last stretch because it will be hard." Luckily, I now live on the tallest hill in residential Boulder, even taller than the last hill I lived on. So a big thanks to Mike, who was full of information and advice, and completely empty of a big huge ego. I will most definitely be going back to that store because it is full of experienced marathoners and at least one ultra-ist (an ultra marathon is 100 miles!)who love talking about running.
So after six days off, I went for my long run yesterday, as scheduled, an 11-miler. It took a few miles to work out the kinks that had developed. And, although I knew all experts would advise against this, I wore my brand new kicks. Great decision! It was a lovely evening on the Creek Path, and I was rocking to a new playlist (titled "funky fresh"). Looks like Jamie and I will be running our long runs separately because he started school for the fall and his schedule doesn't allow for long runs on Wednesdays anymore. I have to say, I was bummed about this at first, because despite all of my teasing and jokes, Jamie is the ideal running partner and I have a lot of fun on long runs with him. But I have a new gadget coming soon and two months to really find my chi on long runs. Besides, who's to say this is the only marathon Jamie and I will train for?!
Here is a link to the 3-D Map of the MCM course. I still haven't watched it though, I want to have a few surprises...I've never been to Washington, D.C.!
http://www.marinemarathon.com/mcm_community/Video_Archives/3D_Video_Course_Tour.htm
Thursday, August 19, 2010
12 Wheat Thins and a Spoonful of Chia
Just wanted to start this blog out with a bang. Badda bing, badda boom. Yesterday, we were scheduled to run 15 miles. We chose to run a route that included a trail run at Chautaqua. But this did not go as intended. Allow me to explain. Jamie and I read this book called "Born to Run," which is a must read if you're even remotely interested in running. Anyway, we've picked up some pretty radical ideas from there, such as barefoot running, and these potent little buggers called chia seeds. Yes, we're talkin' "ch-ch-ch-chia" seeds. They're one secret of the Tarahumara people, who are legendary long-distance runners. These folks are known to run 60 miles a day...just because they can. Supposedly, one tablespoon of chia seeds can sustain a person's energy for 24 hours, because they slow the conversion of carbohydrates into sugar. Which means increasing endurance. So, Jamie and I headed over to our local chia seed provider, Whole Foods, and picked up a bag. The best way to consume them is to soak them in water and they form this funky gel (because they absorb 9 to 12 times their body weight in water), which you can then mix into yogurt, juice, smoothies, and just about anything. So here's a couple pictures of these babies:
From my house, we ran up 9th street to Chautaqua, which, if you're familiar with Boulder, means we ran at least the first three miles uphill. And I mean super uphill. So the warm up was a bit more brutal than what we're used to on long run days. And let me be honest, I wanted to quit when we were barely 3 miles in. But I'm a tough cookie these days, and there was no way I was going to call it quits so early. Jamie handled it like a champ, of course. So we pushed on, trying to conquer 5.7 miles out on this difficult trail, and 5.7 back. But we also had to beat the sunset, because darkness on a trail spells disaster. Especially for someone like me, who is so very prone to sprained ankles. We were going back and fourth, trying to decide if we should just head back early and tack on some extra miles when we got back onto pavement. It was a tough call, but ulitmately we decided it was best not to risk it, we both want to be able to run that marathon, so injuries have to be avoided at all costs. This time, we thought we should try to bring some food. Although, one of the magical things about chia seeds is that they help you stay full longer, so we never really felt hungry on this run. But I did bring along 12 wheat thins, of which we only ate 2 each. Here they are, in all their glory:
So we turned back on the trail earlier than expected, but we ended up running about 13 miles still. Which is really hard to be disappointed about because that was the most difficult route we've run so far. We plan to head back to the same trail on a short run day because it was really beautiful and very quiet. As for the chia seeds, they're quite miraculous. Aside from the previously mentioned benefits, they are loaded with Omega 3s, they help you stay hydrated longer because of their gelishness, they're a complete protein so they aid in repairing muscles, and they're totally wacky to play with and eat! Jamie and I both felt that if we hadn't ended up on such a challenging trail, we could have easily completed 15 miles, and probably more because we never "hit the wall" on that run. We usually "hit the wall" at miles 9-11ish. So, in my own humble opinion, I'd say that the Tarahumara have really tapped into something special with those chia seeds, I really do believe they made a huge difference in our running performances yesterday. The wheat thins...not so much.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
New Jammie Jams
And no, I'm not talkin' about some cozy new p.j.s that feel oh-so-snuggly when you curl up in bed at night.
I'm talkin' about a real fresh little collection of music that my amiga, Hay-bob Berg sent to me via mail. It's quite a bangin' little ensemble. In an earlier post, I asked if anyone had any good running music suggestions and Miss Hayley sure did deliver! There's some spicy Shakira, a little loco song about a monkey being the king of the "bongo bong," "September" by Earth, Wind, and Fire, and a fantastic running song called "Starlight" by Muse. So this is a big thanks to my dear friend for being totally super-fantastic and giving me some new beats to pound the pavement to. It was a really great gift of music, but also nice to know that Hayley's got my back!
I think I just ran 7.5 miles, I hope it was 7.5 because it took me too long to just be 7 miles. Otherwise, I'm a whole lot slower than I thought it was.
Anyway, I just wanted to give a shout out - peace be with you readers.
I'm talkin' about a real fresh little collection of music that my amiga, Hay-bob Berg sent to me via mail. It's quite a bangin' little ensemble. In an earlier post, I asked if anyone had any good running music suggestions and Miss Hayley sure did deliver! There's some spicy Shakira, a little loco song about a monkey being the king of the "bongo bong," "September" by Earth, Wind, and Fire, and a fantastic running song called "Starlight" by Muse. So this is a big thanks to my dear friend for being totally super-fantastic and giving me some new beats to pound the pavement to. It was a really great gift of music, but also nice to know that Hayley's got my back!
I think I just ran 7.5 miles, I hope it was 7.5 because it took me too long to just be 7 miles. Otherwise, I'm a whole lot slower than I thought it was.
Anyway, I just wanted to give a shout out - peace be with you readers.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
La Quinta
Jamie and I trudged through 14 very long miles yesterday. Very long indeed.
It took just about 2 hours and 45 minutes. And we made the very stupid mistake of not bringing any food or fuel besides our collective 30 ounces of water. And on top of that, this was our first morning run, so besides a few bites of some homemade granola, we hadn't eaten since the night before. I think this made a huge impact on how we both felt. A litte bite of something would have been really fantastic at about mile 9 or 10. I also have reason to believe that this oversight led to a little case of the grumpies for us both. Believe it or not, 14 mile runs aren't all fun and games. There are definitely times when I want to kick J's foot from behind (you know, when you kick a foot just as it's being lifted to take a step and then the that leg kind of shoots up really fast and it looks quite hilarious) and I'm sure he feels the same way. But we're both pretty understanding of the fact that our snappiness is most likely a reaction to the exhaustion that we're experiencing.
Some of you millions of readers out there might not know that Jamie is a scientist in all moments. One of Jamie's signature moves while on a run is to distract himself by exploring the world around him, investigating his surroundings. Sometimes this means he slows down unexpectedly and squints his eyes at some random insect or animal and then says something like "huh, I wonder if grass hoppers come out more during certain times of the day or if they're just plentiful on this trail."
One move that he's been pulling lately is to grab the apples off of crab apple trees while we're running under them so that he can take a bite of one.
And I don't think he realizes that when he does this and I'm running behind him, he also pulls the branch down right on my head while simultaneously slowing his pace drastically. What this means is that I have to duck suddenly and try to dart out of the way and then run into him like we're tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum. But these quirky things that Jamie does while on long runs are what keep him moving and loving the run, and I dig that. And I know that when he asks me stuff like "what would you do if there was an alligator in that pond?" (my answer was "wrangle it, duh") he's just trying to keep me in the game. Good running partner, he is.
We also had a testy little moment when I was complaining about having to pee and needing to find a spot along the trail to do so. Jamie was running in front of me and said something that I couldn't hear or understand and was pointing to something. This is how it went down from my point of view:
[Jamie and Rachel are beginning the trail section of their run. It's quite flat with long, dry grasses on either side of the path. The sun is behind them and they are running towards a small pond with a little cluster of trees.]
J: (Pointing with his left hand to something far away) Mumble mumble pee mumble mmmmmuble lake muble mum when mummmmmble.
R: (Brow furrowed, scanning the area for pee spot) What?
J: (A little louder, pointing more vigorously) Mumble mumble mumble blah blah when mmmmumble pee mumble grumble...!
R: (Pretty much just giving up the attempt at understanding what J's saying) What?! I really can't hear you back here!
J: (Turns head slightly to the left, annoyed, now pointing violently) WHEN YOU GOT TO PEE!
R: (Now more confused than ever....was that a question or a fragmented sentence...??) Oh...ok! I'm just going to pee right here! (Really not sure what just happened or what J was trying to say this whole time.)
Clearly, long runs are not all glamourous and lovey-dovey. No sir-ey. It's serious business out there.
We were both considerably sore after that run, and we spent the rest of the day rewarding ourselves. First we had breakfast at Le Peep (it's the next best thing to breakfast in bed), followed by a little beer tasting at New Belgium in Ft. Collins. Thanks to my parents (and originally my mom's previous employer), we had a gift certificate for on night at La Quinta (classiest joint around)
in Loveland and a gift certificate for a chef's tasting menu and wine pairing at a lovely little restaurant called Chimney Park. So after New Belgium, we took a nice nap and a dip in the hot tub at La Quinta. And then Jamie put on his best pair of Chucks and a Polo and we headed to dinner. Which was delightful, to say the least. I realize this is a blog about training, but I'm also a foodie, so I have to satisfy that side of myself because this is my blog, after all, and so I can type whatever my little heart desires. Neither Jamie nor myself have ever had the pleasure of partaking in a chef's tasting menu or wine pairing. It was four courses paired with four wines, and we each had a different dish for each course. So we split everything to ensure we got the most out of the evening. Chad was a very informative server and made us feel relaxed and taken care of. So "holla!" to Chad. I'll spare the details of every individual dish, but you should rest assured that it was a perfect ending to a very enjoyable day.
It took just about 2 hours and 45 minutes. And we made the very stupid mistake of not bringing any food or fuel besides our collective 30 ounces of water. And on top of that, this was our first morning run, so besides a few bites of some homemade granola, we hadn't eaten since the night before. I think this made a huge impact on how we both felt. A litte bite of something would have been really fantastic at about mile 9 or 10. I also have reason to believe that this oversight led to a little case of the grumpies for us both. Believe it or not, 14 mile runs aren't all fun and games. There are definitely times when I want to kick J's foot from behind (you know, when you kick a foot just as it's being lifted to take a step and then the that leg kind of shoots up really fast and it looks quite hilarious) and I'm sure he feels the same way. But we're both pretty understanding of the fact that our snappiness is most likely a reaction to the exhaustion that we're experiencing.
Some of you millions of readers out there might not know that Jamie is a scientist in all moments. One of Jamie's signature moves while on a run is to distract himself by exploring the world around him, investigating his surroundings. Sometimes this means he slows down unexpectedly and squints his eyes at some random insect or animal and then says something like "huh, I wonder if grass hoppers come out more during certain times of the day or if they're just plentiful on this trail."
One move that he's been pulling lately is to grab the apples off of crab apple trees while we're running under them so that he can take a bite of one.
And I don't think he realizes that when he does this and I'm running behind him, he also pulls the branch down right on my head while simultaneously slowing his pace drastically. What this means is that I have to duck suddenly and try to dart out of the way and then run into him like we're tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum. But these quirky things that Jamie does while on long runs are what keep him moving and loving the run, and I dig that. And I know that when he asks me stuff like "what would you do if there was an alligator in that pond?" (my answer was "wrangle it, duh") he's just trying to keep me in the game. Good running partner, he is.
We also had a testy little moment when I was complaining about having to pee and needing to find a spot along the trail to do so. Jamie was running in front of me and said something that I couldn't hear or understand and was pointing to something. This is how it went down from my point of view:
[Jamie and Rachel are beginning the trail section of their run. It's quite flat with long, dry grasses on either side of the path. The sun is behind them and they are running towards a small pond with a little cluster of trees.]
J: (Pointing with his left hand to something far away) Mumble mumble pee mumble mmmmmuble lake muble mum when mummmmmble.
R: (Brow furrowed, scanning the area for pee spot) What?
J: (A little louder, pointing more vigorously) Mumble mumble mumble blah blah when mmmmumble pee mumble grumble...!
R: (Pretty much just giving up the attempt at understanding what J's saying) What?! I really can't hear you back here!
J: (Turns head slightly to the left, annoyed, now pointing violently) WHEN YOU GOT TO PEE!
R: (Now more confused than ever....was that a question or a fragmented sentence...??) Oh...ok! I'm just going to pee right here! (Really not sure what just happened or what J was trying to say this whole time.)
Clearly, long runs are not all glamourous and lovey-dovey. No sir-ey. It's serious business out there.
We were both considerably sore after that run, and we spent the rest of the day rewarding ourselves. First we had breakfast at Le Peep (it's the next best thing to breakfast in bed), followed by a little beer tasting at New Belgium in Ft. Collins. Thanks to my parents (and originally my mom's previous employer), we had a gift certificate for on night at La Quinta (classiest joint around)
in Loveland and a gift certificate for a chef's tasting menu and wine pairing at a lovely little restaurant called Chimney Park. So after New Belgium, we took a nice nap and a dip in the hot tub at La Quinta. And then Jamie put on his best pair of Chucks and a Polo and we headed to dinner. Which was delightful, to say the least. I realize this is a blog about training, but I'm also a foodie, so I have to satisfy that side of myself because this is my blog, after all, and so I can type whatever my little heart desires. Neither Jamie nor myself have ever had the pleasure of partaking in a chef's tasting menu or wine pairing. It was four courses paired with four wines, and we each had a different dish for each course. So we split everything to ensure we got the most out of the evening. Chad was a very informative server and made us feel relaxed and taken care of. So "holla!" to Chad. I'll spare the details of every individual dish, but you should rest assured that it was a perfect ending to a very enjoyable day.
Friday, August 6, 2010
I swear, there is definitely some sort of cosmic occurance that is entirely inexplicable. Something that just isn't normal....I've mentioned it before, but a second occurance makes it quite astounding, indeed.
I ended my most recent long run (nine miles) with the wacky sounds of Michael Jacky. Oh yes. Anybody ever heard of a little song called "Thriller?" Well, allow me to introduce you to a bumpin' beat that will certainly make you shake your tail feathers. The last half mile of that run was...thrilling...to say the least.
It was my first solo long run in a few weeks, and I was having a bit of trouble in the beginning finding that sweet stride. But it is a great route and I lucked out, yet again, with the weather. I try not to get too mushy in these posts because, let's face it, a little bit of warm and fuzzy goes a long way. But I must acknowledge the fact that I have once and for all, fallen deep in love with running. It's a challenge for me every time, whether it's three miles or fourteen (next week!). Every time I step out my front door, I have to face myself. I have to spend a significant amount of time keeping myself motivated and revved up. But once I'm out there, I have the freedom to address all of the things in life that cause me stress, anxiety, excitement, sadness, and everything in between. It's just me and my beating heart and the road. I know, I know, this is all terribly cheesy. But I'm sure you know exactly what I mean, whether you're a runner or not. Life is too big to swallow in just one dose...best to break it down into smaller pieces to appreciate the complexity.
Anyway...
So I'm climbing up one of the millions of hills in B-town during the last mile or so of my run. And it's looking bleak. I'm tired and feeling oh-so-jello-jiggly. Every step is like hanging out in the Millennium Falcon....before you kick that baby into lightspeed (i.e. very slow). But then my ears perk up at the sound of his holiness, Sir Michael Jackson. Thriller. 'Nuff said.
After a long run on Wednesday, a very big and tiring move-in day on Thursday, plus a nice, long day in a miserably hot kitchen today....I'm feeling pooped.
Goodnight party people.
I ended my most recent long run (nine miles) with the wacky sounds of Michael Jacky. Oh yes. Anybody ever heard of a little song called "Thriller?" Well, allow me to introduce you to a bumpin' beat that will certainly make you shake your tail feathers. The last half mile of that run was...thrilling...to say the least.
It was my first solo long run in a few weeks, and I was having a bit of trouble in the beginning finding that sweet stride. But it is a great route and I lucked out, yet again, with the weather. I try not to get too mushy in these posts because, let's face it, a little bit of warm and fuzzy goes a long way. But I must acknowledge the fact that I have once and for all, fallen deep in love with running. It's a challenge for me every time, whether it's three miles or fourteen (next week!). Every time I step out my front door, I have to face myself. I have to spend a significant amount of time keeping myself motivated and revved up. But once I'm out there, I have the freedom to address all of the things in life that cause me stress, anxiety, excitement, sadness, and everything in between. It's just me and my beating heart and the road. I know, I know, this is all terribly cheesy. But I'm sure you know exactly what I mean, whether you're a runner or not. Life is too big to swallow in just one dose...best to break it down into smaller pieces to appreciate the complexity.
Anyway...
So I'm climbing up one of the millions of hills in B-town during the last mile or so of my run. And it's looking bleak. I'm tired and feeling oh-so-jello-jiggly. Every step is like hanging out in the Millennium Falcon....before you kick that baby into lightspeed (i.e. very slow). But then my ears perk up at the sound of his holiness, Sir Michael Jackson. Thriller. 'Nuff said.
After a long run on Wednesday, a very big and tiring move-in day on Thursday, plus a nice, long day in a miserably hot kitchen today....I'm feeling pooped.
Goodnight party people.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Spidey Webs Galore
On my run yesterday morning at 4:00AM I saw the following:
- One mama deer with her two babies; steered clear to avoid being eaten.
- One racoon; seemed to be in kahoots with the deer
- Two cats; sitting still; also suspicious
- One human being
I ran for an hour and saw one human being, walking towards me, about a block away. And do you want to know what happened when I saw that person and he saw me? I biffed it. Yup. Just tripped on a little uneven piece of cement and fell flat on my face. In plain view of the only other person around, despite the fact that it was still dark out, because I was directly under a street lamp...and also wearing a light on my shirt. (Yes, reader, I'm one of those. I run at ridiculous times and the sun isn't always shining. And I got this new light to be safe. I tried clipping it onto my waist, but it's too shakey. Next best option is the neckline of my shirt. Have you ever tried running with a light on yourself? It's pretty silly. Makes me giggle a little bit, actually, because I'm sure I look awesome. But that sucker sure does light the way. I think I'll name him Little Richie.) So I blame you, mystery walking guy, and not the darkness or uneven pavement or even my own clutzyness, because I got distracted and that directly resulted in my toe hitting the awkard piece of man-made rock, followed by the classic falling-forward-with-excess-momentum-arms-flailing-face-contorting-palms-smack-ground-knee-scrapes--pavement. And to top it all off, walking guy proceeded to exit the sidewalk entirely and unneccesarily while gradually getting closer to where I was struggling to get myself up, as though I was so completely out of control and unpredictable that I might endanger his well-being. So good lookin' out, homeslice. Glad you made it through my distructive sidewalk trap.
On another note: short run days are the most difficult for me. Which is the opposite of how I thought I would feel. But for long run days, you get to have this build up of anticipation and adrenaline. And you plan a fun route with a reward at the end. Short run days are just that. They're just days in between, intended to keep your muscles moving and growing and to avoid tightening. And I know they're equally as important as long runs. It's just that you never really find your flow because they're short. So by the time you actually find your stride, you're three miles in and almost done. This is the battle I've been fighting lately; how to motivate myself to do the short runs. Seems as though the most effective way is to knock 'em out before work.
Also, if you're a spider, watch out for me because I will run right through your precious little web. Little Richie in tow or not.
- One mama deer with her two babies; steered clear to avoid being eaten.
- One racoon; seemed to be in kahoots with the deer
- Two cats; sitting still; also suspicious
- One human being
I ran for an hour and saw one human being, walking towards me, about a block away. And do you want to know what happened when I saw that person and he saw me? I biffed it. Yup. Just tripped on a little uneven piece of cement and fell flat on my face. In plain view of the only other person around, despite the fact that it was still dark out, because I was directly under a street lamp...and also wearing a light on my shirt. (Yes, reader, I'm one of those. I run at ridiculous times and the sun isn't always shining. And I got this new light to be safe. I tried clipping it onto my waist, but it's too shakey. Next best option is the neckline of my shirt. Have you ever tried running with a light on yourself? It's pretty silly. Makes me giggle a little bit, actually, because I'm sure I look awesome. But that sucker sure does light the way. I think I'll name him Little Richie.) So I blame you, mystery walking guy, and not the darkness or uneven pavement or even my own clutzyness, because I got distracted and that directly resulted in my toe hitting the awkard piece of man-made rock, followed by the classic falling-forward-with-excess-momentum-arms-flailing-face-contorting-palms-smack-ground-knee-scrapes--pavement. And to top it all off, walking guy proceeded to exit the sidewalk entirely and unneccesarily while gradually getting closer to where I was struggling to get myself up, as though I was so completely out of control and unpredictable that I might endanger his well-being. So good lookin' out, homeslice. Glad you made it through my distructive sidewalk trap.
On another note: short run days are the most difficult for me. Which is the opposite of how I thought I would feel. But for long run days, you get to have this build up of anticipation and adrenaline. And you plan a fun route with a reward at the end. Short run days are just that. They're just days in between, intended to keep your muscles moving and growing and to avoid tightening. And I know they're equally as important as long runs. It's just that you never really find your flow because they're short. So by the time you actually find your stride, you're three miles in and almost done. This is the battle I've been fighting lately; how to motivate myself to do the short runs. Seems as though the most effective way is to knock 'em out before work.
Also, if you're a spider, watch out for me because I will run right through your precious little web. Little Richie in tow or not.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Stung. Stung bad.
Ah. How positively wonderful it feels to be sitting on this amazing mattress, under the world's greatest down comforter. Despite the fact that my comfterbility* factor has been sacrificed.
Jamie and I knocked out 12.6 yesterday. We ran from my house on 9th and Pleasant to the end of the Boulder Creek Path at CherryVale Road and Baseline and straight on 'til morning. Which in this case was the intersection of Baseline Road and Public Road in Lafayette. Let me tell ya, folks, this one was a doozy.
There are certain things that often come up when preparing for a run. Certain questions a person has to ask him/herself in order to be sure he/she is in the best possible condition to run for 2+ hours. Such as:
- Am I hydrated?
- Do I have a route planned?
- Am I wearing my elbow pads?
- Does my outfit correspond with current weather conditions?
- Is there a bathroom/rehydration area along the route?
To each of these questions, I responded with an enthusiastic "you betcha!" All of these, that is, with the exception of the last.
About half an hour into the run, I found myself sliding down a little hill into a kind of tiny ditch and over a chain-link fence. Who am I kidding? It was most definitely a moat. And not a fence at all! That was a fire-breathing dragon. I swiftly leap over the dragon and head straight towards the port-o-potty delux (I say "delux" because it was two port-o-potties in relatively decent condition, complete with a little outdoor water cooler and cup station).
As I exit the port-o-potty, I dash to the moat and quickly come to the painful realization that I have been attacked. I can feel the fire from that dragon directly on my bum. Yes sir, no mistakin' it. Right in the mother of all bee-sting targets; the epi-tomey** of a bulls-eye. My rump. So I do a little skip-to-my-loo and while I'm mid-air, I reach around the right side of my body and grab that sucker by the neck. Assuming, of course, that wasps have necks. I shriek and look to Jamie, helpless, a mere spectator of my mistery. And he jolts me back into action by reminding me that I might have landed on a nest. So I boogie right back over that dragon and hop across the moat and tackle the teeny hill. And I kept running.
Despite it being off to a bit of a rough start, this was a really pleasant run. I didn't fall into my rhythm until the second half, but from then on, it was smooth sailing. We were lucky with the weather, it was only about 80 degrees and overcast at 4:45 when we started running. I think my favorite part about these long runs with J is that every one feels like an adventure. And that is uplifting.
I cross-trained this morning before work with about 20 minutes of sprints and 30 minutes of strength exercises. So I'm feeling a little beat. But I foresee a goodnight's rest before a very long and busy week.
*My brother, Matt's brilliant terminanology for a rating system to evaluate a person's comfort level.
**My brother, Chris's very thorough pronounciation of a word which all of us fools must surely be pronouncing incorrectly.
Jamie and I knocked out 12.6 yesterday. We ran from my house on 9th and Pleasant to the end of the Boulder Creek Path at CherryVale Road and Baseline and straight on 'til morning. Which in this case was the intersection of Baseline Road and Public Road in Lafayette. Let me tell ya, folks, this one was a doozy.
There are certain things that often come up when preparing for a run. Certain questions a person has to ask him/herself in order to be sure he/she is in the best possible condition to run for 2+ hours. Such as:
- Am I hydrated?
- Do I have a route planned?
- Am I wearing my elbow pads?
- Does my outfit correspond with current weather conditions?
- Is there a bathroom/rehydration area along the route?
To each of these questions, I responded with an enthusiastic "you betcha!" All of these, that is, with the exception of the last.
About half an hour into the run, I found myself sliding down a little hill into a kind of tiny ditch and over a chain-link fence. Who am I kidding? It was most definitely a moat. And not a fence at all! That was a fire-breathing dragon. I swiftly leap over the dragon and head straight towards the port-o-potty delux (I say "delux" because it was two port-o-potties in relatively decent condition, complete with a little outdoor water cooler and cup station).
As I exit the port-o-potty, I dash to the moat and quickly come to the painful realization that I have been attacked. I can feel the fire from that dragon directly on my bum. Yes sir, no mistakin' it. Right in the mother of all bee-sting targets; the epi-tomey** of a bulls-eye. My rump. So I do a little skip-to-my-loo and while I'm mid-air, I reach around the right side of my body and grab that sucker by the neck. Assuming, of course, that wasps have necks. I shriek and look to Jamie, helpless, a mere spectator of my mistery. And he jolts me back into action by reminding me that I might have landed on a nest. So I boogie right back over that dragon and hop across the moat and tackle the teeny hill. And I kept running.
Despite it being off to a bit of a rough start, this was a really pleasant run. I didn't fall into my rhythm until the second half, but from then on, it was smooth sailing. We were lucky with the weather, it was only about 80 degrees and overcast at 4:45 when we started running. I think my favorite part about these long runs with J is that every one feels like an adventure. And that is uplifting.
I cross-trained this morning before work with about 20 minutes of sprints and 30 minutes of strength exercises. So I'm feeling a little beat. But I foresee a goodnight's rest before a very long and busy week.
*My brother, Matt's brilliant terminanology for a rating system to evaluate a person's comfort level.
**My brother, Chris's very thorough pronounciation of a word which all of us fools must surely be pronouncing incorrectly.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Eggplant Lovata
Ok, ok. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that I am a huge slacker and that I'm totally playing games with your heart. I didn't blog for a few days and you think I stood you up. But hold on to your britches because I'm here and I've got some really bodacious updates for you.
Well, "bodacious" might not be the best word. But maybe "cray-cray" is a better term. It means "crazy," for all you readers who aren't quite at street as yours truly.
Anyway....
I did, indeed slack off this weekend, beyond not blogging. I also skipped my three miler yesterday. But it's due to a strange sequence of events.
There is something in the air lately, and I'm not talkin' about all that reefer around BOCO, or about those pigs-in-blankets that my friend ReNoods keeps talking about either (woah mama!). I'm talking some crazy voodoo magic. An unusual case of bad luck versus good luck.
I can't give away a lot of deets, but I will say that the good luck definitely won.
Now, about my run today:
I ran a little over a five and a half mile trail run. I've done this loop on two other occasions. And both times, this trail seemed to get into my head and I ended up walking for a few minutes. So today, I went after this trail feeling slightly intimidated but also I had my game face on which looks like this (not for the faint of heart):
I know, it's scary.
Luckily, it was a cool evening and there was nobody else on the trail. Except those tiny bugs that like to fly into your eyeball. But I'm pretty sure they don't mind listening to you give yourself pep talks outloud. I think I'm becoming one of those dodgy people that you sometimes see on Pearl Street who tell you things like "I'm Jim Morrison and this is my guitar. It's signed by each of my personalities." And then proceed to play a terrible rendition of "Break on Through" while your incredibly lanky friend with dreads joins in, thereby verifying this person's clearly skewed image of himself.
The run was kind of tough only because I haven't run in three days (?!), and also because I had a bit of a complex about it. But I did finish it without walking once. And I do believe I beat both of my previous times. It is a lovely loop, around a tiny pond and up and over some plateaus...if you will. I thoroughly enjoyed this run as it allowed for a little peace of mind and self-assurance.
Tomorrow is a three, which I absolutely will run. Tomorrow is also Monday. Just F.Y.I.
Next comes Tuesday.
My eyes are droopy and my brain's a little soupy so I'm gonna make like a banana and...
Well, "bodacious" might not be the best word. But maybe "cray-cray" is a better term. It means "crazy," for all you readers who aren't quite at street as yours truly.
Anyway....
I did, indeed slack off this weekend, beyond not blogging. I also skipped my three miler yesterday. But it's due to a strange sequence of events.
There is something in the air lately, and I'm not talkin' about all that reefer around BOCO, or about those pigs-in-blankets that my friend ReNoods keeps talking about either (woah mama!). I'm talking some crazy voodoo magic. An unusual case of bad luck versus good luck.
I can't give away a lot of deets, but I will say that the good luck definitely won.
Now, about my run today:
I ran a little over a five and a half mile trail run. I've done this loop on two other occasions. And both times, this trail seemed to get into my head and I ended up walking for a few minutes. So today, I went after this trail feeling slightly intimidated but also I had my game face on which looks like this (not for the faint of heart):
I know, it's scary.
Luckily, it was a cool evening and there was nobody else on the trail. Except those tiny bugs that like to fly into your eyeball. But I'm pretty sure they don't mind listening to you give yourself pep talks outloud. I think I'm becoming one of those dodgy people that you sometimes see on Pearl Street who tell you things like "I'm Jim Morrison and this is my guitar. It's signed by each of my personalities." And then proceed to play a terrible rendition of "Break on Through" while your incredibly lanky friend with dreads joins in, thereby verifying this person's clearly skewed image of himself.
The run was kind of tough only because I haven't run in three days (?!), and also because I had a bit of a complex about it. But I did finish it without walking once. And I do believe I beat both of my previous times. It is a lovely loop, around a tiny pond and up and over some plateaus...if you will. I thoroughly enjoyed this run as it allowed for a little peace of mind and self-assurance.
Tomorrow is a three, which I absolutely will run. Tomorrow is also Monday. Just F.Y.I.
Next comes Tuesday.
My eyes are droopy and my brain's a little soupy so I'm gonna make like a banana and...
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
"It's a dangerous business going out your door.
You step out onto the road and if you don't keep your feet, there's no telling where you might be swept off to." -Bilbo Baggins
It's 11:42 PM. I should be sleeping. But I am here, tippity tapping on my keyboard. Let me tell you why.
Coach Curran and I just had us a little adventure. We stared death in the face (there were lots of dead birds and gophers on the side of the road). We climbed mountains (a few baby hills that I imagine felt similar to what ET was going through during the times between little piles of Reese's Pieces). We fought off disease and malicious attacks by the area's wildlife ('skeetos. Those little mamba jambas got so much blood from us, I'm pretty sure we're related now). And finally, we fought pneumonia as we sucked down milkshakes (Mint brownie shake for J. Chocolate malt for moi).
That's right, dear reader. We ran eleven miles. No stopping. Just running. And guess what. It was completely and utterly fantastic. I might have over-exaggerated the battles that we fought along the way. But let's all be honest and acknowledge that eleven miles is a fair amount to run. Yes, I'm bragging.
Here's how we fueled up before. Jamie is the coach, but I am the nutritionalist. Although, I can't take credit for this concoction. No sir. This came from the genius sitting next to me who sometimes stirs coffee into his orange juice and has admitted to eating dog food. And liking it.
Ingredients for this inventive dish that actually was the perfect fuel for our run were:
- potato. microwave-baked.
- black beans. canned.
- guacamole. thanks for the left-overs, Ma.
- siracha. a little zing never hurt anybody.
- cheese. optional. we opted to skip it at the last minute.
So that's that. Do our knees hurt? Absolutely. Are our feet aching? You know it. Are we excited to move our bodies tomorrow? Not exactly. Will we do it again? You bet your sweet ass we will.
It's 11:42 PM. I should be sleeping. But I am here, tippity tapping on my keyboard. Let me tell you why.
Coach Curran and I just had us a little adventure. We stared death in the face (there were lots of dead birds and gophers on the side of the road). We climbed mountains (a few baby hills that I imagine felt similar to what ET was going through during the times between little piles of Reese's Pieces). We fought off disease and malicious attacks by the area's wildlife ('skeetos. Those little mamba jambas got so much blood from us, I'm pretty sure we're related now). And finally, we fought pneumonia as we sucked down milkshakes (Mint brownie shake for J. Chocolate malt for moi).
That's right, dear reader. We ran eleven miles. No stopping. Just running. And guess what. It was completely and utterly fantastic. I might have over-exaggerated the battles that we fought along the way. But let's all be honest and acknowledge that eleven miles is a fair amount to run. Yes, I'm bragging.
Here's how we fueled up before. Jamie is the coach, but I am the nutritionalist. Although, I can't take credit for this concoction. No sir. This came from the genius sitting next to me who sometimes stirs coffee into his orange juice and has admitted to eating dog food. And liking it.
Ingredients for this inventive dish that actually was the perfect fuel for our run were:
- potato. microwave-baked.
- black beans. canned.
- guacamole. thanks for the left-overs, Ma.
- siracha. a little zing never hurt anybody.
- cheese. optional. we opted to skip it at the last minute.
So that's that. Do our knees hurt? Absolutely. Are our feet aching? You know it. Are we excited to move our bodies tomorrow? Not exactly. Will we do it again? You bet your sweet ass we will.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
sleepy runs
After my last post, I was feeling motivated to get up early and knock out my runs before work on Sunday and Monday. Which was a brilliant decision. I ran a delightful six miler on Sunday when my training schedule only required a five. And I ran a snappy little three miler on Monday. And woah baby, this world is a sight to see at 5:00AM.
It was refreshingly cool (though still quite warm considering the early hour. I say refreshingly cool in comparison to the scorching 90 and 100 degree days we've been having 'round these parts). I ran the along the Boulder Creek path, heading west with a slight incline the whole way to the turn around. The sun was just coming up, the air still felt a little like nighttime, and there were no people! Don't get me wrong, I love me some people. I love them when they're eating ice cream, when they're mailing a letter, when they're brushing their teeth, and when they're blowing bubbles in their drink with a straw. I love them when they snore, when they sweep the floor, and when they open a door. But it's a lot to ask to love the entire human race at every second for everything that they do or don't do. So, forgive me if there are a few times when I don't treasure certain things that human beings do. And some of these things happen while on the creek path. And I'll leave it at that.
As a whole, these were some of my favorite runs. I saw a couple of deer on Sunday and I'm pretty sure if I wasn't so stealthy the dad deer would have eaten me for breakie. I ran without music because I could actually hear the running water from the creek since there were virtually no cars.
Tomorrow is a big day. Eleven miles. Coach suggested running from Boulder to Longmont. Seems like a good idea. I've made that drive countless times, I figure it's about time I run it.
It was refreshingly cool (though still quite warm considering the early hour. I say refreshingly cool in comparison to the scorching 90 and 100 degree days we've been having 'round these parts). I ran the along the Boulder Creek path, heading west with a slight incline the whole way to the turn around. The sun was just coming up, the air still felt a little like nighttime, and there were no people! Don't get me wrong, I love me some people. I love them when they're eating ice cream, when they're mailing a letter, when they're brushing their teeth, and when they're blowing bubbles in their drink with a straw. I love them when they snore, when they sweep the floor, and when they open a door. But it's a lot to ask to love the entire human race at every second for everything that they do or don't do. So, forgive me if there are a few times when I don't treasure certain things that human beings do. And some of these things happen while on the creek path. And I'll leave it at that.
As a whole, these were some of my favorite runs. I saw a couple of deer on Sunday and I'm pretty sure if I wasn't so stealthy the dad deer would have eaten me for breakie. I ran without music because I could actually hear the running water from the creek since there were virtually no cars.
Tomorrow is a big day. Eleven miles. Coach suggested running from Boulder to Longmont. Seems like a good idea. I've made that drive countless times, I figure it's about time I run it.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
100 Degrees
I have a new mattress. This means that getting up at 4:45 in the morning to go run before I go to work requires an incredible amount of will power. Which is why I slept in this morning (and by sleep in, I mean I woke up at 5:15AM, as per usual). Because besides it being difficult to get out of bed that early, it's also difficult to summon the aforementioned necessary will power to overcome the difficulty of getting out of bed at such an ungodly hour.
While at work, I heard rumors of it being "the hottest day ever!" and saw multiple people order espresso milkshakes and pink lemonades. Now, I'm no mathematical genius, but I was able put two and two together to figure out that I should have gotten my bones out of bed and run before work. Because for the rest of the day, I had to gulp quarts of water while simultaneously dreading seeing those quarts of water drip into my eyes later on. Did I mention the fact that I work in a kitchen that typically feels ten degrees hotter than whatever the temperature it is outside?
So now I'm not sure what's more challenging; fighting the sleep guy (what's his name? all the sudden I can't remember. There's a song...but I can't place it) and getting into gear before the sun comes up, or waiting until after work, watching the hours chug away while I sugar coat the world, only to step out at three or four and feel the ultraviolet rays poison my skin?
I was already halfway dressed for a run. I find this helps because there's no excuse to take your running shorts/shoes/elbow pads off if you didn't even run. So I ran. And it was hot. And here I sit, thinking that it wasn't actually that bad.
But it's days like these that make me really appreciate the change of season in this super duper state. Here's why:
-Running in pristine 60-degree-partly-sunny-but-with-nice-fluffly-clouds weather makes you feel like Mr. Rogers. That's right. It's just another day in the neighborhood. Kids are playing with their yo-yos and jacks, people are walking their toy poodles. The world is in perfect condition for you to break a little sweat.
-Running in the rain makes you feel like a total badass. There's all these sissies trotting around, trying to cover their hair with a newspaper or trying to avoid stepping into puddles with their gorgeous Uggs. And then there you are. Splishin' and splashin' right into those puddles with all you've got. And your clothes are sticking to you and your hair looks outrageous. And without even meaning to, you're making a mean, tough-guy face because you have to squint to avoid getting drippy-drops in your eyes. Plus, you don't get dehydrated so quickly, so you can run for a longer period of time and really take advantage of that badass feeling. Maybe run by your friends house and wave as you pass by while they are playing video games. Or run directly into the path of someone with an umbrella and stretch your right arm out for a big, hugh high five. Running in the rain is my absolute favorite kind of running so far.
- Running in the snow makes you feel like a lunatic. Everybody else is cuddled around a fireplace or sipping hot chocolate while they assemble a snuggly kitty themed jigsaw puzzle. But not you. You're out there in the wilderness. Who know's what's going to happen out there? There's slippery sidewalks, blinging glare from the sun shining on the crisp, white snow, and hidden obstacles beneath winter's blanket. You're completely bonkers! But you're loving every minute of it.
Mmm, I could really go for a smoothy or some fro-yo. You too?
While at work, I heard rumors of it being "the hottest day ever!" and saw multiple people order espresso milkshakes and pink lemonades. Now, I'm no mathematical genius, but I was able put two and two together to figure out that I should have gotten my bones out of bed and run before work. Because for the rest of the day, I had to gulp quarts of water while simultaneously dreading seeing those quarts of water drip into my eyes later on. Did I mention the fact that I work in a kitchen that typically feels ten degrees hotter than whatever the temperature it is outside?
So now I'm not sure what's more challenging; fighting the sleep guy (what's his name? all the sudden I can't remember. There's a song...but I can't place it) and getting into gear before the sun comes up, or waiting until after work, watching the hours chug away while I sugar coat the world, only to step out at three or four and feel the ultraviolet rays poison my skin?
I was already halfway dressed for a run. I find this helps because there's no excuse to take your running shorts/shoes/elbow pads off if you didn't even run. So I ran. And it was hot. And here I sit, thinking that it wasn't actually that bad.
But it's days like these that make me really appreciate the change of season in this super duper state. Here's why:
-Running in pristine 60-degree-partly-sunny-but-with-nice-fluffly-clouds weather makes you feel like Mr. Rogers. That's right. It's just another day in the neighborhood. Kids are playing with their yo-yos and jacks, people are walking their toy poodles. The world is in perfect condition for you to break a little sweat.
-Running in the rain makes you feel like a total badass. There's all these sissies trotting around, trying to cover their hair with a newspaper or trying to avoid stepping into puddles with their gorgeous Uggs. And then there you are. Splishin' and splashin' right into those puddles with all you've got. And your clothes are sticking to you and your hair looks outrageous. And without even meaning to, you're making a mean, tough-guy face because you have to squint to avoid getting drippy-drops in your eyes. Plus, you don't get dehydrated so quickly, so you can run for a longer period of time and really take advantage of that badass feeling. Maybe run by your friends house and wave as you pass by while they are playing video games. Or run directly into the path of someone with an umbrella and stretch your right arm out for a big, hugh high five. Running in the rain is my absolute favorite kind of running so far.
- Running in the snow makes you feel like a lunatic. Everybody else is cuddled around a fireplace or sipping hot chocolate while they assemble a snuggly kitty themed jigsaw puzzle. But not you. You're out there in the wilderness. Who know's what's going to happen out there? There's slippery sidewalks, blinging glare from the sun shining on the crisp, white snow, and hidden obstacles beneath winter's blanket. You're completely bonkers! But you're loving every minute of it.
Mmm, I could really go for a smoothy or some fro-yo. You too?
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Don't stop 'til you get enough
At the end of my mid-day six miler, there was a moment.
It was a long uphill three miles and an easy downhill three miles...at least until the last quarter mile or so. I live in Boulder, where hills are unavoidable, especially if you live on top of one. And I live on top of one. So after virtually every run, unless I really plan it out, I end up climbing up a hill to get home. Which is actually preferable, because it really wears me out and I can rest assured knowing I worked my butt off. But every once in awhile, that hill stares me down like it's going to eat me for dinner. And today was like that.
Today, I began the long battle up 9th street. Depending on my mood, I either choose to take roads up that hill that will hide me from traffic and other people so I can struggle in peace, or I take 9th, which means I need the motivation of knowing that other people will see me if I quit. There's also a stop light on the way, and if you hit it at the wrong time you either have to bop in place so you don't loose momentum or you stop awkardly and just wait for the trusty walking man and then have to boost yourself back to turbo speed and find the last shred of power to make it up the hill. I caught the light at the wrong time. But I decided to embrace my inner renegade and just run through it when I knew there were no cars. And at this point my legs are jello. But then it happened....I hear that familiar beat that I can only associate with house-cleaning days when I was little. My mom blasting this particular album and that meant incredible things were being accomplished around the house. Michael Jackson's sparkling, buttery voice floats into my ears and I begin to smile. Smile! Ha! Halfway up this bully of a hill! I'm sure you're singing along with me now. Because, let's face it, you just can't fight it. And I know you're enjoying it just as much as I was. But try to imagine the absolute cosmic alighnment that must have occured. "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough." And I didn't stop 'til I got enough.
It was a long uphill three miles and an easy downhill three miles...at least until the last quarter mile or so. I live in Boulder, where hills are unavoidable, especially if you live on top of one. And I live on top of one. So after virtually every run, unless I really plan it out, I end up climbing up a hill to get home. Which is actually preferable, because it really wears me out and I can rest assured knowing I worked my butt off. But every once in awhile, that hill stares me down like it's going to eat me for dinner. And today was like that.
Today, I began the long battle up 9th street. Depending on my mood, I either choose to take roads up that hill that will hide me from traffic and other people so I can struggle in peace, or I take 9th, which means I need the motivation of knowing that other people will see me if I quit. There's also a stop light on the way, and if you hit it at the wrong time you either have to bop in place so you don't loose momentum or you stop awkardly and just wait for the trusty walking man and then have to boost yourself back to turbo speed and find the last shred of power to make it up the hill. I caught the light at the wrong time. But I decided to embrace my inner renegade and just run through it when I knew there were no cars. And at this point my legs are jello. But then it happened....I hear that familiar beat that I can only associate with house-cleaning days when I was little. My mom blasting this particular album and that meant incredible things were being accomplished around the house. Michael Jackson's sparkling, buttery voice floats into my ears and I begin to smile. Smile! Ha! Halfway up this bully of a hill! I'm sure you're singing along with me now. Because, let's face it, you just can't fight it. And I know you're enjoying it just as much as I was. But try to imagine the absolute cosmic alighnment that must have occured. "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough." And I didn't stop 'til I got enough.
July 15th - Easy 6 Miles
Hello worldwide web. Welcome to my first ever blog about preparing to run my first ever marathon!
I suppose I'm a bit late in starting this blog. I'm almost two weeks into a 4 month training program. So let me catch you up because I know you're waiting breathlessly...
Officially, training started on Monday, July 5th. Last week consisted of two three mile runs, one five mile run, one nine mile run and a cross-training day. Each week, I have two rest days. It is recommended that I run even on rest days, even if it's just a short two miler. Cross-training happens once a week, on Thursday, and those days are sort of like recess. You get to take a little break from doing the same thing over and over and over. Last week, I went for a bike ride and did a little strength training. Swimming also counts, so on really hot Thursdays perhaps I will do a couple bitchin' flips out of a tree right into the oh-so-chilly Boulder Creek.
The ultimate goal is to run the Marine Marathon in Washington D.C. on October 31st. All of this started because my boyfriend, Jamie, mentioned the fact that his Dad suggested running this race to celebrate the official end of Jamie's eight year obligation to the U.S. Marine Corps. Jamie asked if I was in, and after a split second of deep thought and consideration, I committed. So not only is Jamie an amazing source of inspiration to me, he is also my "coach." He sometimes jokes that he can be "Sergeant Curran" during those times when I need a little push on long runs. Those are the times when I deliver a swift kick to his shin to remind him that those jokes aren't funny to a girl who is huffing and puffing on some stinkin' trail in the blazing hot sun working towards mile five. (Just kidding. There is no kicking involved. A good old fashioned evil eye usually gets the point across.) Seriously though, Jamie is very encouraging and also very understanding of the fact that prior to this endeavor, I was most definitely not a runner, so beyond trying to become a better runner, I'm also still learning to love it.
Some super sweet perks that accompany my new lifestyle are:
-I get to eat tons of carbs. In fact, I have to eat tons of carbs in order to sustain myself on long run days. Don't get me wrong, I don't count massive baskets of salty, greasy, and completely perfect french fries as a good carb. I do my best to consume only complex carbs, meaning lots of whole grains. Although, it is good to know that I can partake in a fry or two and not have to worry about how I'm going to burn that baby off.
- Lots of time to listen to music. I don't always listen to my ipod when I run, but there are definitely days when a girl needs a little bumpin' bass to get those legs moving. I've found some very unlikely sources of pump-up action, such as: "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen, "Blister in the Sun" by the Violent Femmes, and one of my favorites, "So Fresh and So Clean" by Outkast. I've also got a lot of the Black Keys, Kanye West, some Foo Fighters, the White Stripes and a little Michael Jackson for those days when the sun is shinin' just right. Consider this a shout out to my brotha' Matty for suggesting that I create a real motivating playlist for long runs. Thanks to him, I have some totally killer playlists with names such as "ballin'" and "don't stop."
(P.S. Any other suggestions? Rachel loves new music)
- AMAZING tan lines. I'm talkin' short lines, sock lines, and varying shapes of tank tops and sports bras.
- Huge muscles. I mean....huge. (Just kidding. Soon though fo' sho')
Those are just a few. And there are more serious ones like having a healthier body, getting tons of fresh air, and learning that I am capable of so much more than I ever thought. Just over six months ago, I probably wouldn't have been able to list very many perks. That's a little something they call progress.
So that's the scoop.
Thanks, Dad, for suggesting this whole blogging thing....this was fun!
Today I will run six miles. It's looking quite sunny outside and I must beat that Colorado summertime heat!
I suppose I'm a bit late in starting this blog. I'm almost two weeks into a 4 month training program. So let me catch you up because I know you're waiting breathlessly...
Officially, training started on Monday, July 5th. Last week consisted of two three mile runs, one five mile run, one nine mile run and a cross-training day. Each week, I have two rest days. It is recommended that I run even on rest days, even if it's just a short two miler. Cross-training happens once a week, on Thursday, and those days are sort of like recess. You get to take a little break from doing the same thing over and over and over. Last week, I went for a bike ride and did a little strength training. Swimming also counts, so on really hot Thursdays perhaps I will do a couple bitchin' flips out of a tree right into the oh-so-chilly Boulder Creek.
The ultimate goal is to run the Marine Marathon in Washington D.C. on October 31st. All of this started because my boyfriend, Jamie, mentioned the fact that his Dad suggested running this race to celebrate the official end of Jamie's eight year obligation to the U.S. Marine Corps. Jamie asked if I was in, and after a split second of deep thought and consideration, I committed. So not only is Jamie an amazing source of inspiration to me, he is also my "coach." He sometimes jokes that he can be "Sergeant Curran" during those times when I need a little push on long runs. Those are the times when I deliver a swift kick to his shin to remind him that those jokes aren't funny to a girl who is huffing and puffing on some stinkin' trail in the blazing hot sun working towards mile five. (Just kidding. There is no kicking involved. A good old fashioned evil eye usually gets the point across.) Seriously though, Jamie is very encouraging and also very understanding of the fact that prior to this endeavor, I was most definitely not a runner, so beyond trying to become a better runner, I'm also still learning to love it.
Some super sweet perks that accompany my new lifestyle are:
-I get to eat tons of carbs. In fact, I have to eat tons of carbs in order to sustain myself on long run days. Don't get me wrong, I don't count massive baskets of salty, greasy, and completely perfect french fries as a good carb. I do my best to consume only complex carbs, meaning lots of whole grains. Although, it is good to know that I can partake in a fry or two and not have to worry about how I'm going to burn that baby off.
- Lots of time to listen to music. I don't always listen to my ipod when I run, but there are definitely days when a girl needs a little bumpin' bass to get those legs moving. I've found some very unlikely sources of pump-up action, such as: "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen, "Blister in the Sun" by the Violent Femmes, and one of my favorites, "So Fresh and So Clean" by Outkast. I've also got a lot of the Black Keys, Kanye West, some Foo Fighters, the White Stripes and a little Michael Jackson for those days when the sun is shinin' just right. Consider this a shout out to my brotha' Matty for suggesting that I create a real motivating playlist for long runs. Thanks to him, I have some totally killer playlists with names such as "ballin'" and "don't stop."
(P.S. Any other suggestions? Rachel loves new music)
- AMAZING tan lines. I'm talkin' short lines, sock lines, and varying shapes of tank tops and sports bras.
- Huge muscles. I mean....huge. (Just kidding. Soon though fo' sho')
Those are just a few. And there are more serious ones like having a healthier body, getting tons of fresh air, and learning that I am capable of so much more than I ever thought. Just over six months ago, I probably wouldn't have been able to list very many perks. That's a little something they call progress.
So that's the scoop.
Thanks, Dad, for suggesting this whole blogging thing....this was fun!
Today I will run six miles. It's looking quite sunny outside and I must beat that Colorado summertime heat!
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