A Half Marathon Finisher! And Now a Concussion....

Well I did it.  I can finally say to myself and to the world that I ran a real half marathon.  :oD  I can proudly sport my 13.1 gear, knowing that it's official now.  I don't race much, so this experience was entirely new to me.  All my previous races (one 5k and one 10k) were under a couple hundred participants in total.  The event I was running in this time had over 15,000 runners!  (That total included the half marathoners, marathoners, and members of the marathon relay teams.)  But still!  We all started at the same start line and finished at the same finish line, so it was overwhelming to me.  My hubby was working that day, so I was there by myself with no idea what to expect out of this race.  I don't generally do well in strange situations - whether they're running related or not - and this was no exception.  I felt so out of sorts, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do.

I took forever to leave my house the night before because I kept double-checking my bags to make sure I was bringing everything I could POSSIBLY need for that night and the next day.  I even brought my own dinner for that night, my own breakfast for the morning of the race, and my own snacks and drinks for during the race.  I brought every imaginable type of clothing - from tank tops to jackets and gloves.  I second-guessed everything I did.  I called my husband and asked him what I was thinking.  All of a sudden, right before I was planning to leave, I no longer wanted to go.  I had no business being there, in my mind.  I was going to blow it and completely disappoint myself.

I eventually took a few deep breaths, and got in the car.  There was no packet pick-up the next day, and the accountant in me couldn't see paying all that money and then skipping the race anyway.  So off I went to the expo, where I also didn't know what I was supposed to be doing.  It actually ended up being really nice, and I of course spent too much money.  It was my first half marathon though.  This was HUGE to me, so I felt like the splurge was justified!  Hahaha!  I got to my hotel afterwards, dug through my bags again to be sure I really did have everything imaginable, and got in bed.

4:00am came quickly - the shuttle for my hotel was arriving at 5:00am - and I was afraid I didn't get enough sleep.  I second guessed my outfit so many times that I was rushing out the door.  I walked down to the lobby, totally self conscious, wishing I could have checked out what everyone else was wearing before I got dressed.  I just knew that they could all tell I didn't really belong there.  Gosh was I nervous!  I needed to get my act together!

We arrived at the starting line area almost an hour and a half ahead of time.  It was cold, and I was alone, so I basically started wandering around and trying to look like I knew what I was doing.  I actually met some very friendly people that all wished me the best of luck, and I calmed down for about 5 seconds.  :o)  Then the time came to get ready to run!  I got into my (slow) corral and listened as all the other runners in the faster corrals took off.  Gaaahhh!  No turning back now, right?!?!?!  All of a sudden they announced the start of the last corral, and I had no choice.  I was off and running - trying to remind myself that I needed to take it slow.

I settled into a nice pace, and was happy with my ability not to start off too fast.  I was actually starting to enjoy myself and was having a good time looking around at the other runners, the crowds cheering us on, and the sights of the area I was running through.  I had my own fuel (I'm not gonna lie - it was a baby food squeeze packet - my stomach can't handle the Gu they were passing out) and my own hydration - everything I'd trained with.  I had done this in training a few times and just had to tell myself I could do it again.  The plan was not to stop to walk at all.  I'd discovered in training that although my legs might hurt if I kept running, the pain of stopping at that point was a hundred times worse.  So all I wanted to do was keep running....

Of course, I couldn't get that lucky.  I knew something wasn't right by about mile 5 or 6, and I could tell I was getting a blister on my instep - same place I always get them.  I just don't usually get them so early.  I think that was my true downfall.  I was more tired than I should have been at that point, because the course ended up being much more hilly than I anticipated, and I soon realized that I was starting to change my stride because of the blister.  I let my head take over and gave in to my desire to take a walk break before I even reached mile 7.  I wanted to cry right then and there because I knew there was no way I'd ever recover from that break.  Once I walked, I would have to keep walking.  And I still had half of the race to go.

Needless to say, I was right, and I had to stop several more times to walk.  My pace started to slow even while I was running.  I was TIRED, my blister was getting worse, and I was disappointed in myself.  I don't mean to be a complete Negative Nancy, because I DID eventually finish the race.  I kept finding it in me to start running again, and then I saw the turn towards the finish line.  I looked at my phone and watch, realizing that I would be more than 10 minutes slower than ANY of my training runs of 13.1 miles, and picked up the pace big time in the last few tenths of a mile.  The event actually had a fantastic finish line - we ran into a minor league baseball stadium, and the finish line was set up on the field somewhere around third base.  The other runners who'd already finished were enjoying the finisher's festival on the field, and family, friends, and spectators filled the stands.  What a fabulous atmosphere to finish my first half marathon!  Even though I was sore and disappointed in myself, I still smiled as I crossed that finish line of my first ever half marathon.  Regardless of the fact that I hated my time or that I had to walk more than once, I'd finished all 13.1 miles, and that was something to be proud of!  I got my medal, all my other bling, and my post-race snacks before heading over to get my official finisher photo.  I didn't really have anyone to celebrate with, but it was still fun to enjoy the atmosphere around me with all these other amazing athletes.

I ended up finishing at a miserably slow pace, even for me (2:42:59!), but I had my medal engraved on site with my name and finishing time anyway.  I only have one first half marathon, after all.  Slow or not, I would never have another first one!  I hung out for awhile and then eventually had to leave to catch the shuttle back to my hotel.  I wanted to shower before driving all the way back home, and I'd be pushing it even with the late check-out.  I guess that's what happens with slow runners!  :o)  Heck - plenty of the full marathoners even finished their race before I could manage to finish my half marathon!  Haha!  Oh well - I don't think I'll ever get down to their 5:00/mile pace anyway - so let them have their glory.  I'll be happy with my own glory of just finishing!

I still struggle with the disappointment of my performance that day, because I know I can do better than that.  I just wanted to finish under 2:30:00.  But since I didn't I can't keep that voice in my head quiet that keeps telling me I need to try one more time.  So I probably will - even though I had no intention of ever trying another half marathon after this.  And despite the disappointment, I still find myself feeling proud at times.  I went out and at least made the effort.  And I did, in fact, finish.  There was some sense of accomplishment and pride in that!  Plus, my medal is pretty sweet, and I like to randomly wear it around the house as my husband smiles and rolls his eyes at me.  :oD

Here it is:






Pretty nice, huh?  :o)  I think so!  Now I just need to find somewhere better to hang it than the kitchen table.

So after the race, I started to debate whether to cut back on running a bit and focus on overall fitness again, or to just keep running.  I was leaning towards overall fitness while maintaining a decent running regimen.  I did, afterall, want to run another half marathon someday.  Then, less than a week after my half marathon, I was in a car accident.  I was a passenger in a car that got hit - HARD - on the side that I was sitting on.  The car was totaled, and I got a fancy ambulance ride to the ER.  The diagnosis was a severe shoulder sprain/bruise, and a concussion.  (I truly thank God every day that it wasn't worse - because I'm not sure how we were all ok, really.)  I obviously took a couple days off from all forms of exercise.  I was SORE all over and couldn't even move one of my arms.  Normal daily activities were difficult enough!  As the soreness subsided and movement of my arm became less painful, I decided to go for a run.  I felt sluggish after all not doing anything and was starting to gain weight, to tell you the truth.  I wanted to do something about it.

So I headed out the door, and soon realized it wasn't going to work.  I toughed it out, but turned around at the first mile to jog slowly home.  My head felt like it might explode.  I've never had a concussion before, and no one at the hospital explained that physical stress would make the symptoms worse.  I'm not normally the type to let ailments stop me from doing anything, but I decided that a head injury wasn't something I was willing to challenge.  In all honesty, I'm surprised at home much the concussion has impacted my life - fitness and non-fitness both.  I'm just now starting to feel better and have been trying to ease back into exercise with some relaxed, easy running/jogging for short distances, and a lot of strength training instead.  At this point, I have a few good days for every bad day, so I'm confident that I'm on the mend.  I saw my doctor, of course, and am following her recommendations.  I am doing whatever I feel like I can and stopping if I feel like I shouldn't.  I'm not going to lie though - it's frustrating.  I'm just trying to make the most of it!  I'll be back out there soon though - don't worry!  Until then, I'm going to turn into a beast of muscle.  Hahaha!  :o)  Wish me luck!

Less Than a Week Away! Eeek!

Well - it's time for a deep breath and a leap of faith.  I'm less than a week away from my first half marathon - by far one of the toughest goals I have ever set for myself.  Running 13.1 miles at one time was never - I truly mean never - something I ever would have imagine myself doing in my wildest dreams.  I was never a runner growing up.  Sure, I was athletic and involved in all kinds of sports and activities, but I was never good at distance running and never even desired to be.  If I was good at anything related to running, it was sprinting, and that was when I was young.  Then a wonderful thing called puberty hit me in my teenage years, and those changes significantly slowed me down.  From that point on, I didn't run.  I ran as part of another sport I was doing or as punishment for screwing up in one of those sports.  Honestly, if someone had told me a few years ago that I'd sign up for a half marathon, I would have laughed.  Roll on the floor laughing.

That's part of why this is such a big deal to me.  I've been proud of many of my accomplishments in life so far, but most of them were expected or anticipated.  They were things that I was good at, and generally centered on school and education.  This half marathon is something out of that realm and a goal that I personally set up for myself - not one that was set up for me.  It's a goal outside of my comfort zone and outside of something that I'm good at.  I'm not going to lie - I'm not good at running.  It's hard for me, and I'm slow.  It takes me longer than most to increase my distance.  But I'll be darned if I haven't worked harder than just about everyone out there to achieve this goal.

And that's why I'm sitting here with my stomach in knots and my head telling me so many different things.  One second I'm sure I can do this and will finish just fine.  I've run the full 13.1 miles on a few occasions now and made it every time.  Sure, it wasn't pretty, but I did make it.  I can do it.  But....the next second my head is second guessing me.  As always.  It's saying that those training runs were SO SO hard.  That I almost didn't make it.  And that those runs were in ideal weather conditions in a place I am familiar with and on a relatively flat course.  Honestly, I feel like a kid going to my first day of kindergarten with a bunch of kids who have already been there for 3 months.  I have NO IDEA what to expect, and a good majority of the people I'll be there with have done this time and time again.  I feel like I can read all the articles and blogs, and even the press releases from the Akron Marathon in the world, but nothing can calm me down.

I did pretty well throughout most of my training (even though, as I may have mentioned, I didn't follow a formal training plan), but I think most of my anxiety comes from being sick with a head cold with only three weeks to go before the half marathon.  I hardly ran at all that week.  Not only did I feel run down, but I couldn't breathe enough to run, and I opted to rest and rest and rest to get over the illness more quickly.  My worst days of the head cold were unfortunately the Friday - Sunday of the weekend that I was supposed to be my very last long run.  I never got it in.  I didn't know what to do.  So I tried getting back out there on Tuesday and just running whatever I could after work since I was feeling better.  I only made it 3 miles before I couldn't breathe anymore and started coughing uncontrollably.  It was miserable and embarrassing.  It was also totally defeating and a huge blow to my self confidence.  I was already concerned because I missed my last long run and took almost a whole week off from running that close to the race.  And now a 3 mile run felt impossible.  What was I going to do?  Well I'll tell you what I did.  I made excuses almost every day this past week about why I couldn't go for a run and how I need to sleep in every morning because I wasn't fully recovered.  I took tapering to a whole new level.  Now I have no idea what to do this week in preparation for the half marathon.  I can't just take another week off - for a total of 3 weeks in a row.  But then again, I can't tire myself out right before the race after such little activity the past 2 weeks.  I'm going to need to force myself to find a good enough balance between tapering and ensuring I'm not trying to run a half marathon after basically not running for three whole weeks.

Needless to say, I'm nervous.  My worst fear is failing.  I just can't accept that outcome, but I will be devastated if I don't finish or if I have a terrible experience.  I just need someone to tell me it's going to be okay and that I'll make it.  I need to believe it, too.  To make matters worse, not a single person is coming with me that day.  It's 45 minutes away, which isn't far at all, but I feel guilty asking someone to give up their entire day for me.  I mean, what are they really going to do while I run?  Nothing.  They'll sit around and be bored.  They probably wouldn't even be able to actually see me cross the finish line anyway.  But there's just something about the feeling of going into this all alone that totally sucks.  No one will be there that morning to give me a hug or tell me I can do it.  No one will be there when (if) I cross the finish line to celebrate with me or tell me they're proud.  So I'm torn.  I mean, I certainly wouldn't want to sit around all day while someone else ran, especially if it wasn't something I was interested in.  On the other hand, there's a part of me that just wants to be selfish for one of the biggest events of my life so far, and I want to cry sometimes when I think about being there all by myself with no one to share the experience with.  I'm sure I'll be fine anyway, but sometimes I think I'd have a little less anxiety about the day if someone was there with me.

But I'll stop blabbering away and tell myself to stop feeling sorry for myself.  I need to pull up those big girl panties for one more week.  Someone please tell me I can do this.  I just want it so so bad and am also so so scared of failing.  It makes me wonder, do all runners feel this way before races?  Is it just the new ones?  Just the ones with less support?  And does this anxiety get better after doing more races? Some things for me to ponder tonight, and something I might someday find the answer to if I keep on running.  Good night to all and sweet running dreams.

13.1 Training Run - In the Books!

So I'm 3 weeks out from my half marathon, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared.  I am not a confident person by nature.  If there's one thing I know about myself, it's that I've never had a lot of self-confidence, and my daily life is filled with self-doubt and negative thinking towards myself.  I have to give credit where credit is due: my husband has BY FAR been the biggest source of improvement for me in this area.  When I'm with him, I am comfortable in my own skin and at least feel comfortable being me, even if I'm not proud or confident of myself all the time.  He has helped me leaps and bounds with my self confidence, and I can never thank him enough.  When I began running, it had a similar effect - though not quite as profound.  As I began to see continuous improvement in my endurance and speed, I became proud of myself for the first time in a long time.  I wanted to tell the world.  But no matter how much better I was doing, that monster of self-doubt was never far behind.  That moment 8 months ago when I clicked that button on the screen to register for my half marathon, I must have been having a good day.  Because I truly believed in myself that day.  I had no doubt that I could make it. 

A lot changes in 8 months though.  And while I've mostly kept up with my training and long runs, there's always the voice in my head before my long run each week telling me that I can't do it and that I won't make it.  And then I'm afraid to even get out there and try.  I've skipped a couple of my long runs because of it.  On those weeks, I've ended up with somewhere around 10-12 total miles for the week, which just isn't acceptable for half marathon training.  This Sunday was no exception.  I had just run a 5k race on Saturday for a company/community competition.  While I had to walk up a couple hills a bit, I still rocked the race and came in with a time I could be happy with for such a hilly course (it was in our local park that is notorious for its hills).  Waiting to run this race on Saturday, I was looking around at the variety of people there.  I was intimidated by the people I saw that were obviously runners.  As I ran, I did my best, and even though I was proud of it myself, I was also embarrassed.  I had to walk.  Those people that I saw that looked like obvious runners - they didn't walk.  Not only that, but it dawned on me that I'm not one of those "obvious runners" when put in a crowd like that.  I run 3-6 days a week, 20-30 miles a week at this point, and am tackling a half marathon in 3 weeks.  That's something not a lot of everyday people can say, but at the same time, why don't I look like one of those obvious runners?  I can't help but wondering when that will happen.  I want those lean, tight calf muscles and lean upper thighs that actually show off the muscle and power they have.  I want that definition.  I want all my hard work to show on the outside too.  I'll admit, I was jealous.  I know I still have a daily battle to fight with my eating and nutrition habits.  And maybe if I ever fully tackle that, I'll be able to see that definition I want so badly. 

Then on Sunday I had another monster to battle - my long run.  I was scheduled to run 13 miles again (I ran 13 miles 2 weeks ago, and skipped it last week because of my self-doubt).  After church and breakfast with my family, I should have come home and gotten it out of the way right then.  But instead, I sat down on the couch to relax and do some meal planning for the week.  I rationalized that I should go to the grocery store first so I wouldn't be too tired and badly in need of a shower if I ran before grocery shopping.  As the day wore on, I stared that self-doubt in the face.  Was I actually going to go this time?  I came home from the grocery store, unpacked everything, and changed into my running clothes.  I made all the appropriate preparations.  I got some cold powerade ready and picked out a squeeze pack of baby food to try (yes - I said baby food.  I am trying little squeeze packets to take on my long runs, because my stomach can't seem to handle the highly processed blox, gels, etc. that most runners use - I have gotten SO sick from those, and I'm not trying that again).  I took a deep breath and headed out.  I walked to warm up then stood there in the middle of the bike trail just staring at it fade into the distance.  I was doubting myself again.  I was afraid to start because I was afraid I wouldn't finish.  Somehow, I started anyway.  But even as I got into mile 2, my brain was still fighting me.  What was I doing out here?  I was already feeling it, and I hadn't even completed 2 miles.  I was crazy to think I could do it.  How dumb.  I didn't belong out here.  And I certainly had no business running a real half marathon race.

I;m not really sure when it happened, but I finally just stopped thinking about it.  I let my mind wander, focused on my pace, on relaxing, and on letting go of my week.  I looked around and took in the nature and scenery around me.  I remembered the countless times my Dad and I had biked this same trail and recounted some of those favorite memories.  (I also vowed to call him for another bike ride soon before the weather really turned too cold.)  I turned around at mile 4 to come back towards my powerade.  I was keeping a good pace and felt ok so far.  The 4 miles back to my powerade were mostly a slight uphill grade, and I started to feel it.  I remembered that the last time I tried this distance, I started to waver around 7.5 miles and stopped to walk.  I never really recovered.  I wondered if I hadn't walked, how much of a difference it would have made.  So at 6.5 miles, I busted open my squeeze packet (squirting it all over my hand in the process....only me!), and slowly started to fuel between there and mile 8 where the powerade was.  I was nervous about the trade off for the powerade.  I had left in in my own backyard - which meant I had to divert off the paved bike trail, jump a ditch, and grab it off the ground.  I knew I needed it, but I also knew I didn't want to walk.  I couldn't let that be my downfall again.  I must have looked ridiculous to anyone watching, but I cut across the trail, leaped over that ditch and grabbed the bottle in one motion, and turned to jump the ditch again back onto the trail - I never slowed down.  Hahaha!  I'm definitely not the most graceful person, but grace wasn't the important thing here!  I didn't need to look good doing it - I just needed to do it! 

I sucked down a good 1/4 of the powerade and felt better instantly.  I relaxed after the stress and tension of multiple ditch jumps and opening the bottle, fell back into a nice groove, and kept going.  Unfortunately, the next 2.5 miles of my run were also an uphill grade until my turn-around to come home again, and I was really feeling it about mile 9.5.  My legs were getting tired, and I think every inch of my body and clothing was covered in sweat.  I couldn't even tell I was sweating anymore because I was so soaked.  I kept going back and forth between it being really hard to keep going, and then suddenly feeling pretty good like I could go on forever.  It was all I could do to get to my turn-around point at 10.5 miles.  I knew the way home wouldn't be quite so bad because I wouldn't be going uphill anymore.  I just kept willing myself to get that far.  I eventually made it and turned around, feeling instant mental relief.  I still felt a lot of pain, but I was so close now.  As I continued to run, the effort got harder and harder, and soon a 12:00/mile pace became a hard effort.  But I couldn't walk now!  I just couldn't!  I could tell by the pain in my legs that if I stopped now to walk, I'd never make it.  That's truly what kept me going.  I know that sounds dumb to say that the pain in my legs made me keep going, but I knew that stopping would be so much more painful.  And I don't mean that metaphorically - like it would be emotionally crushing not to keep going - but that it would be physically more painful.  I counted down the half miles, the quarter miles, the tenths of miles, until suddenly I was at 12.5 miles.  I could actually see the spot where I knew I could stop.  Even then, I couldn't speed up too much more.  My legs just physically wouldn't even though I felt like I was sprinting at an 11:30/mile pace at that point.  I heard my GPS tracking app tell me I'd completed 13 miles.  Only 0.1 to go!  I tore my phone off my armband to watch this last 0.1 tick away, and finally FINALLY made it.  I made it!  I hadn't walked!  And I'd pushed myself to make it under 2:30:00!  I finished at 2:28:34.  I smiled - until I actually stopped running and slowed to a walk.  I don't think my legs have ever felt so much pain in my life.  I'm not exaggerating.  It was like instant cramping in every leg muscle.  I focused on my breathing and tried to speed up my walk to reduce the dramatic difference in speed I'd just created (not that I was running all that fast by the time I was done).  I got myself under control and tried to relax while I walked it out.  I started to feel a little better, and then suddenly I felt like I was going to barf because it hurt so bad.  I generally have a high tolerance for pain, so this was surprising to me.  I turned around and walked back to my house.  I grabbed some water and guzzled it down while I went back outside to continue walking it off.  I eventually got myself under control and came inside to stretch and recover.  While I was stretching with my legs up against the wall, I grabbed my phone and reviewed the stats on my GPS app.  I couldn't stop looking at the mileage that said 13.11 miles.  And I ran the whole way.  I was proud of myself.  I had to admit.  It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't what those obvious runners would have done, but I did it.  I'm sure I'm still going to be afraid on race day, I'm still going to doubt myself, and I'm still going to be embarrassed to be out there with those real runners, but I'll still go try.  I guess we'll find out in 3 weeks how that day really goes!  I don't feel ready at all!!!!!  (Even though I've done it a few times now in training....)  :o)

My Less-Than-Epic Return to Blogging

I realize that I've taken a good 6-7 month hiatus from this blog.  But that doesn't translate into a hiatus from running and living a healthy lifestyle.  In short, I kept up my running throughout the winter (even if it was on a treadmill inside 98% of the time), all while working 65-75 hours a week January - April.  I even went so far as to reserve hotels based on the availability of a fitness center or treadmill, and if that wasn't an option, I sought out nearby fitness centers, calling them and signing up for week long guest passes.  My co-workers thought I was crazy.  "Obsessed" they said.  "But aren't you tired after working this much?" they asked.  "I don't know how you even have the time to do that."  Well guess what - I made the time.  I didn't have it.  Sure, some days that meant 30 minutes less sleep or 30 minutes less work, but I prioritized.  Some days I stepped on the treadmill after 11:30pm, knowing full well I had to be awake before 6:00am the following morning.  But I stuck with it.  I was pretty dang proud of myself to be honest. 

Until spring rolled around.  I had been DYING - I mean absolutely DYING - for spring weather so I could reasonably run outside on a consistent basis again.  Finally the weather broke, and I laced up my shoes, threw open the door and stepped outside.  My mile-wide smile quickly turned to frustration and pain as I fought to re-adjust myself to outdoor running again.  I didn't understand.  This was where my running started.  This was the ONLY place I ever ran until this past winter when I broke down and purchased a treadmill. Why was it suddenly SO difficult?  I was significantly slower than my treadmill pace and yet noticeably more exhausted at the same time.  I had found the treadmill much harder than outdoor running at first, but apparently my body had adjusted so much to the treadmill that it was having a hard time making the transition back to the outdoors that my mind loved so much.  It was beyond frustrating.  I broke two miniature flashlights attached to my keys when I threw them down onto the pavement in frustration following some of these first outdoor runs.  I wanted to give up on running altogether at this point.  I had signed up for my first 10k which I'd be running in late April, and it was clear I was nowhere near ready.  I could easily run a quick 8 miles inside, but I was wussing out after 2-3 miles outside, completely exhausted and with an embarrassing pace.  As much as I wanted to give up, I shed my tears quite a few times but picked myself up and kept getting back out there.  I was determined to re-train my body so I could enjoy what I loved most about running. 

I kept on going, and kept being disappointed, and in just a few weeks the 10k came around.  I knew I wasn't really ready, but I showed up anyway and gave it my best.  I struggled badly with the hills and ended up walking up parts of the hills.  My treadmill training at an incline of 1 didn't prepare me for this.  I did finish the race (and I wasn't last!!!!), but I was disappointed in having to walk, and I couldn't make it in my goal of under an hour.  So when I heard my name called as the first place winner in my age group, I almost fell off the bleacher I was sitting on!  What?!?!?!  First place in my age group?!?!?!  I wasn't sure I'd heard right as I walked up to receive my medal.  That's right - my medal.  My first EVER real live race medal.  I couldn't believe it.  I was on cloud nine, even if I wasn't happy with my performance.  Needless to say, I quickly found out that although I placed first in my age group, I was also the ONLY one in my age group!!!!!!!!!!!  Hahahahaha!  Sure, it put a little damper on my medal, but as long as I don't add that minor detail into my story, I sound pretty bad ass!  :o)  Plus, I was still super stoked to receive my first race medal.  Yay!

With my first 10k in the books and my medal hanging around my neck periodically (my husband would laugh at me when he'd walk in the kitchen to find me cooking with it on, or walking around the house de-cluttering while proudly wearing it), it was time to focus on my next goal.  At some point during all that time spent on the treadmill and consistently being able to run 8 miles at a time, I got a crazy idea in my head that I could run a half marathon someday.  So one winter day when there was miraculously very little snow and ice on the ground and relatively mild temps (I say "mild" relatively - I still had on full Under Armour cold gear with a scarf wrapped around my face), I set out to tackle the full 13.1 miles outside - just to see if I could reasonably do it.  Why sign up for a race if I know I can't make it, right?  :o)  Well it wasn't pretty, and I thought I wasn't going to make it back home a couple times, but I  finished all 13.1 miles that day.  I made it home in just under 2:30:00.  A few days later, I closed my eyes and clicked on the "register" button to sign myself up for the Akron Half Marathon in Akron, OH.  Eeeek!!!! What did I just do?!?!?!  But I had plenty of time to get ready for it - and it was still winter time.  Mind you - this was all BEFORE my realization that my body couldn't run as well outside anymore!

I've spent all summer trying to extend my long runs on the weekends and building up my total weekly mileage.  There have been ups and downs.  Days when I felt like the most awesome runner ever, and days when I've thought I should throw in the towel and never run again.  I've also struggled quite a bit with the nutrition recently.  I think the longer runs increase my appetite SO SO much, and then I end up eating more.  And let's face it - if I run 11 miles for my long run and am pushing 25 miles for the whole week, I guess my brain feels entitled to more chocolate chip cookies and ice cream than I'd been allowing.  I've gained 5 pounds back, and I've read lots of articles about runners gaining weight during training for marathons and half marathons for these very same reasons.  I don't feel bad though, and I don't look bad yet when I look in the mirror, but I CAN tell in certain places.  So no, it's not all muscle, if I'm being completely honest with myself.  So I'm facing this constant battle with myself every day at this point.  I've done pretty well these last couple days, so tomorrow should be tough.  I usually only make it a couple days before I fall off the wagon for another day or two.  Then back to the beginning and repeat the cycle over and over again.  One of these days I'll find the self control inside of me to put those cookies down and walk away after only 1 or 2.  I found it before and I can find it again - I have no doubt about that!  :o)

But back to my half marathon training.  So I've spent all summer training for this.  I finally sucked it up last weekend and pushed myself to run 13.1 miles again - the first time since my one random attempt during the winter.  I DID make it.  It was a couple minutes over 2:30:00 (which I set as my goal for race day), but I finished it.  I started struggling at about 7.5 miles, and at 8.25, I stopped to walk for the first time.  I took a route I had never run before (in an attempt to keep the scenery new and exciting so I wouldn't get bored), and I failed miserably to realize that the way out was almost all a slight downhill.  That meant that when I turned around just before mile 7, I was facing the second half of my longest run ever being almost entirely uphill.  Talk about an uphill battle.  This one was literal.  When I stopped to walk at 8.25 miles, I texted my hubby to tell him I was struggling and that I needed some motivation to make it the remaining 5 miles home.  He told me that cat needed fed (he was at work so he couldn't do it).  Very motivational.....  Lol!  I took a deep breath and took off running again.  I alternated between periods of running and walking the rest of the way home, which actually kinda disappointed me, but I managed to run the entire last mile, and only missed my goal by a couple minutes.  I was so proud and couldn't wait to tell the world.  :o)

Then there are days like today.  I headed out after work for a 4 mile run before it got dark.  It was a hot day, but only 85 degrees, and only about 50% humidity, so I don't know what the heck my problem was.  I was tiring before I even hit the first mile.  Sure it was Monday, and hot, and I'd had a tense day.  Sure I hadn't even had a second to sit down since I got home from work either, and I was carrying all that tension of my day with me.  But running generally relieves all the stress and tension.  And I even brought water along with me this time because of the heat.  My pace was slow today for a 4 mile run, and my body was just a complete sweat factory.  And when I say sweat factory, I mean it.  I am not one of those girls who "glistens" or "sparkles" or "shimmers".  Please.  Give me a break.  I SWEAT.  Like crazy.  I make dri-fit clothes look like a lie.  Today was an exceptionally sweaty day.  I soaked through two paper towels before making it to mile 2 and had to resort to using my shirt to wipe my face the whole rest of the way.  Sweat was literally rolling down my forehead and nose and chin.  It was running down my arms and dripping off my elbows.  It was flying off my knees with every step.  I have no idea what was wrong.  I was exhausted.  I had to stop and walk during a 4 mile run today multiple times.  And it wasn't even because I was pushing the pace too fast.  I felt like I was dying, and no part of today's run was enjoyable, no matter how hard I tried to make it enjoyable.  It was one of those runs when I wonder what the heck I'm even doing out there....and what the heck I was thinking when I decided I could run in a real half marathon.  What a joke.  I felt like a failure today.  I finished out the run and came home anyway.  I'll have to try again tomorrow and keep remembering my successes in the past.  Sometime we just have bad days, I guess!  I'll get over it, and tomorrow will probably be fine, but for now, it finally inspired me to get back here to my blog.  Not the happiest or proudest return to blogging, but then again, running isn't only defined by success.  There's a lot of failure, and I'm not afraid to admit mine! 

For now, I'm off to bed in hopes that tomorrow will be a better day.  Sweet running dreams!  (Hopefully I'll get a chance to share some of my awesome cooking and recipes in the coming weeks too - I've made some kick-ass food in the last 6 months!)

My First Blisters!

That's right - I've been running this whole time and never got a single blister on my feet - until now.  I decided to end the year (and my Holiday Running Streak) with a bang and shoot for a 10k distance on my treadmill (since there's still almost a foot of snow outside and on the running trail).  I had just attempted 5 miles for the first (and only) time the week before, and for some reason I had this crazy idea in my head that I should try 6.2 miles.  Just to see if I could do it.  I mean, the 5 mile run didn't seem THAT bad.  And this was just a mile more basically.  I'm still taking it easy on the pace because my body can't decide if it's getting a cold or not, so I just have this sinus and head congestion that keeps coming and going throughout the day.  And I've noticed when I really push myself on pace, I have a much harder time breathing and get really stuffed up.  So anyhow, I've been running at a less intense pace, and I thought that would be the perfect time to try something new.  If my head, sinuses, or congestion felt too bad at any point in the run, I promised myself I'd stop and not push it. 

So I took off at a nice easy 10:00/mile pace (realizing that this used to be an extremely difficult pace for me not too long ago), and set in for the long haul.  Or for 6.2 miles, which I consider the long haul at this point!  I felt good as I was running, and although the miles were going by slowly because of the slower pace, I just tried not to focus on how far I had left to go.  Since I don't like to listen to music or watch TV when I run, I had a lot of time to think.  I started thinking about the running gifts I'd received for Christmas, and all the running articles I've been reading in magazines, and online at Runner's World, Active.com, Women's Running, etc.  There's truly such an abundance of information out there on how to improve your PRs and distances, how to run faster, muscles to strengthen and exercises to do to make you a better runner, foods to eat and not eat, schedules to follow for training, clothes to wear and gadgets to use, races to run and how to run them faster - and you know what?  Not all of these articles agree with each other.  It's almost overwhelming.  My brain decided it wanted to be philosophical at that point.  It occurred to be that while I enjoy reading about all of these things and even implementing some of the ideas and suggestions, it also wasn't for me.  When I started running, I honestly was doing it just to lose weight and get in shape.  And as I ran, I found out I enjoyed it and it was more fun for me than I ever thought it would be.  But the thought of breaking down running into a training schedule, having certain days set aside for fartleks or interval runs, knowing weeks in advance exactly how far and what type of run I'm going to do on any given day - well to be honest, that would just take all the fun out of it for me.  At that point, running would be more of a task for me - like a chore or a job.  And what fun are those things?  Sure, I'd probably improve much more quickly that way, but what good is the improvement if it's not fun anymore? 

I know so many people who have used and stuck with programs like Couch to 5k, Bridge to 10k, or other various training programs for half marathons, and on and on.  And they've had great success with them.  They've surpassed my abilities (both in distance and speed), and yes, that makes me feel inadequate and kinda like a failure at times, but I've decided that I can't be bothered by that anymore.  They're not me, and I'm not them.  And we all run for different reasons.  So what if it was going to take me more than an hour to run a 10k for the first time?  I was having fun doing it.  And no schedule on my refrigerator told me I had to do it that day.  I enjoy just going with how my body feels that day and moving at my own pace.  Running for the joy of running.  I've started to become so obsessed with distances and pace and times that I was afraid I was going to suck all the fun out of this for me.  And I've been pretty jealous of all these people I see running races and getting medals and placing in their respective races.  I've run one single 5k - and that was just to prove to myself that I could do it.  I'd been considering signing up for more races like that just to get them under my belt and see if I could place or get a medal too.  But really, the races just don't do it for me in the long run.  I know I can run the 5k race now, and I did.  I don't need to keep running them.  It's on to a 10k race for me.  And I'll probably only run one of those too.  Just to prove to myself that I can again.  :o)  And who's to say that all of this isn't okay?  No one - that's who.  So it's different than 99% of the running population.  Big deal.  I'm going to stick with the way I run - no plans or training schedules, no tempo, fartlek, or interval runs, no running endless numbers of races - I'm just going to run. 

But I digress - my wandering mind finally came back to the present, and I was approaching the 4 mile mark.  I could tell I was getting tired but decided I could still probably make it.  4 miles came and went, and although my fingers were itching to increase the speed and avoid going over an hour for my 10k, I thought back on all the revelations I'd just made and decided to be happy with the pace I was at.  I got even more tired by mile 5, but I wasn't about to give up at that point.  Then, at around 5 and a half miles, the title of this post became relevant.  Out of nowhere, my (favorite) running shoes felt like they were pinching the arches of both of my feet.  Where was this coming from?  I've run in those shoes since I first got serious about running, and the running store's shoe specialist said they weren't worn out yet and were still fine to use, even though the length of time I'd had them was quite long.  (I guess I just don't run very FAR - hahaha!)  I'm assuming my legs were just getting really tired and it was changing my stride and form a little bit, but no matter how I tried to land with each step, my feet were being obliterated by my shoes.  Or so it felt.  I stuck it out and finished all 6.2 miles, even if it did take me 1:02:00.  And I was super proud of myself.  I couldn't wait to go upstairs and tell the hubby!  But first, those shoes had to come off.  I waddled off the treadmill on legs that felt like jelly and feet that felt like I was stepping on pins.  When the shoes and socks came off, I was surprised to see multiple blisters on each foot, right on the arches.  How strange.  I wasn't thinking that this was where runners got blisters, but then again, nothing I do is ever normal, so it was probably just me!  :o)  I went upstairs and popped the blisters (I know, I know - gross, right?  But it feels so much better afterwards.), and proceeded to brag to my husband about my success in running a 10k distance and my battle wounds from doing it. 

What a great way to end 2012 - success at running a 10k distance (even if it did come with blisters), completion of the Holiday Running Streak, and great revelations about myself and why I run.  Here's to 2013 and hoping that running continues to be such a joy and inspiration to me and to others.  Happy New Year and good luck whatever your running goals.  :o)

Winter Blah's

Much to my disappointment, Christmas here in Northeast Ohio was trying its best to be white, but it came a few days early and then a few days late.  I managed to get in one run outside in between the snow storms, but now it seems like the flood gates have been opened - just as the snow from the previous storm starts to melt enough, another storm comes through.  I live in a very small neighborhood of a few cul-de-sac's, so our roads don't get much attention from the road cleaning crews.  And the bike trail I usually run on doesn't get cleaned, salted, or plowed at all.  Without proper trail shoes, I'm forcing myself to stay inside and use the treadmill instead.  I can see it now - my clumsy self, slipping on ice, falling and breaking an arm or cracking my head open on the pavement, with not a soul in sight to come rescue me or help me out.  No thanks.

Meanwhile, as I lament the abundance of snow and consider warmer places to live, I keep on running on that faithful friend, my treadmill.  Thursday was one of those days that I really just didn't want to run.  I was tired, had a headache, was sore from shoveling 10 inches of snow off my driveway the day before, and felt like I was developing some head/sinus congestion.  Blah.  But I'd finally started to get back to my normal eating habits (aka healthy eating :o)) after the holidays, and my body was thankfully feeling more like itself.  I knew a run would make me feel even better - plus I couldn't give up on my Holiday Running Streak so close to the end.  So I got changed into my running clothes and shoes, and stepped onto the treadmill, content with just doing 3 or 4 miles at a nice easy pace, since I didn't feel all that great.  I wasn't going to worry about pace or time - just run for the enjoyment of it and for a nice workout without pushing myself too hard.  I was surprised at how good that truly felt, and as I approached mile 3, I felt fantastic.  My headache had subsided, my nose wasn't feeling very stuffy anymore, and I wasn't as tired as I'd been when I got on the treadmill (my arms and back, however, were still sore as ever from my snow shoveling!).  So I kept going towards mile 4, and my mind couldn't help but wander to greater things.  What if I could keep this nice easy pace up through mile 4 and still feel good?  Should I keep going?  I'd never tried to run more than 4 miles before, but I'd love to see if I could run 5.  My runs earlier this week hadn't been the longest, as I'd tried to squeeze them in among Christmas events and celebrations, so my weekly mileage was already low for already being Thursday.  What the heck, I thought - what did I have to lose?  And so I kept going!  And guess what?  I made it 5 miles!!!!!!!!!  It took me 48:17, but that was okay with me.  It was still under 10 minutes per mile, and further than I'd ever run before.  How exciting!  :o)

So when Friday rolled around, I was feeling about the same as Thursday, except with a bit more sinus congestion, and thought I could feel better again with a run.  It worked yesterday, so it should work again today, right?  Wrong.  I can't emphasize just how wrong I was.  I had decided just to do 2 miles to give my legs a bit of a rest after the 5 miles from the day before, and I started out at a pretty good pace.  I felt okay for about the first half mile, and then things started to go downhill fast.  This wasn't an unusual pace for me for 2 miles, but I felt like I was dying.  Like I was really putting a lot of effort into it and could barely keep up.  My head congestion got worse (not better), and my whole body was feeling exhausted.  The 2 miles couldn't be over soon enough. When it was, I just sat down on the floor and leaned back against the treadmill, completely skipping any type of stretching simply because it would take more effort than I had left in me right then.  I felt pretty pathetic, to be honest.  But the longer I sat there, the worse I felt.  I had to accept the fact that this head congestion was the start of a wonderful cold (hopefully not the flu!), and that I might have to take it easy for a few days.  I finally headed upstairs, changed right into my pajamas (it was already past 10:30pm anyway, so I didn't feel so lame), took some night-time cold medicine, and promptly fell asleep on the couch.  I didn't have anywhere to be this morning, so I didn't set an alarm, and vowed to sleep as long as I could to give my body some rest and maybe tone down the severity of the on-coming cold.  I still feel kinda crappy today, but not yet a full-blown cold or flu.  I'm gonna have to do some research on the best way for runners to deal with colds and congestion.  Is it best to just tone down the intensity of my runs, or to skip a couple days altogether until I clear up?  I can't believe this is the first time I've encountered this!

Anyhow, I need to head to the grocery store (and maybe pick up some orange juice while I'm there to help combat this cold) to stock up on some ingredients for healthy meals now that all the Christmas and holiday meals and leftovers are gone.  I honestly can't wait to get back to cooking for me and my husband, because I was shocked by how terrible I felt after a few days of eating what other people prepared (I mean no disrespect to any of them, by the way - the food was all fantastic, but just not in my range of normal meals anymore).  I didn't binge or eat only unhealthy foods.  In fact, I still ate a normal breakfast every day, and did a pretty good job of taking smaller portions of the meals I didn't prepare, and didn't over-do it too much on the desserts.  But I seriously couldn't believe how crappy I felt.  I was sluggish, my stomach felt gross, and I started to have very little appetite.  When I did get hungry, I noticed that I felt like I was craving sweets, but the minute I started to eat them, I felt all gross again.  And if I then tried to force down an apple or something healthier, I felt so full it was disgusting.  I eventually managed to stay away from the sweets so much and leave the leftovers to my husband (even if that meant making my own salad for dinner and letting some of the leftovers go to waste), and I started to feel so much better.  And now that things are settling back into a more normal routine, I can start cooking again.  :o)  Can't wait! Now if I could just get this head congestion to go away... 

Christmas Eve Running!

Happy Christmas Eve! What a great day for a run, right? :o) Ok, maybe not - I mean there's church, family and friends getting together, family dinners, last minute baking and gift wrapping, and that panicked trip to the store because you forgot something. But that was exactly why I purposely scheduled time to run today. I knew I needed a break from all that chaos, and running would help me relax and re-energize.

So over the last few weeks I've been trying to stock up on cold weather running gear since this will be my first winter attempting to run outside. I bought tights and running gloves in addition to the various Under Armour shirts and sweatshirts I'd collected over the years. And to my joy, friends and family actually bought me running stuff for Christmas this year (which, by the way, totally makes me feel validated as a runner - come on, if everyone else thinks I am... Haha!). So from my running gifts, I ended up with two cold weather running headbands and a hat too. I was now officially ready to run outside in cold weather - no more excuses! I ripped off all the tags from my new gear, got all gussied up (and took a silly picture to commemorate the occasion), and headed out the door. I was shocked by the cold at first, but have been told and have read that you should dress for 20 degrees warmer, so I figured I was doing okay. (I ended up being dressed perfectly by the time I was done! Go me!)

I made sure to warm up my legs a little more than usual, and took off running. It felt so so good to be back outside. The first thing I noticed was a complete shock though. After so much running on the treadmill, my stride outside actually felt awkward for the first few steps! And to think I thought it was all a myth when they said treadmill running changes your stride. They're not kidding, people!!!! Holy cow! But I quickly adjusted and I was on my way.

I'm not a fan of snow and cold - at all (good thing I live in Northeast Ohio, right?) - but I was enjoying being outside and running in nature anyway, so I tried to ignore it and focus on the positives. I was also afraid that the temps in the mid 30's would be hard for me to breathe, but I was surprisingly okay! (I did experience some slight congestion/sense of needing to cough for a couple hours afterward, but that's since gone away.) In top of that, there were also still some icy patches to battle and carefully tip toe through. So I tried to balance being careful without being ridiculous and slowing myself down unnecessarily. I thought I was doing pretty good, and then right before I hit the halfway point of my 4 mile run, it started to snow. And stick to the ground. Of course, it would be at my farthest point! Grrr... As I turned around and headed back, the snow was getting in my eyes, and I was afraid it would be slippery. I think I was more cautious than necessary, because by the time I was done, I was pretty disappointed in my time of 37:51. I was frustrated and threw my keys on the ground, effectively breaking my miniature flashlight, and stood there glaring at it. I was under no delusion that coming back outside would take some adjusting to. And I knew that it would be hard to properly pace myself the same without a digital display staring me in the face. But I didn't think it would slow me down by almost 2 full minutes compared to my best time inside. Apparently I have a lot of adjusting left to do. I picked up the keys and pieces of my flashlight and headed back home. In the end, I decided not to let it bother me too much. I still ran, and I still had a great tome doing it. And I got to try out all my new gear - which worked fantastically by the way! Even in the snow! :o)

Tomorrow is still another day - another day to continue to improve, to teach myself new things, and to push my limits. And it's Christmas!!!! So off to bed for this girl! Merry Christmas everyone!!!!!