Wow, it's been a VERY log time since I posted anything. Life just gets in the way sometimes. I don't have much to report...the winter for running was very nice, and the sunrises never cease to amaze me. And now adding boot camp to our repertoire is giving early mornings a new meaning.
I am ramping up training now for the Portland Marathon on October 7. Another hot weather training like last year but in the end I will feel strong in the cooler weather in Portland. Going with some good friends to this one and it will prove to be a great time I am sure.
I will keep up with my blog as my training increases.
For now I just wanted to say I am still here :-)
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Learning about yourself
Sometimes the lessons we learn about ourselves are important to keep in mind for the future. Today is one of those days.
Today was the Cowtown Half Marathon. This is a tough race with brick roads and three very tough, long hills in the last miles of the race.
Going in I knew my plan was to run the first 3 at a 10 minute mile, the next 5 at a 9:00 minute mile, and the last 5 how I felt. But what I did not do was think about what this meant for a total time in the race.
Two weeks ago we ran the Hot Chocolate 15K, I did well and felt very good so in my mind I really thought that I would be able to run strong in Cowtown. I didn't really think about what that meant to me. What does running well mean? And how can that be measured if you don't know what the goal was originally?
I was able to follow to my plan (provided by my coach) and hit the times pretty close through the first 8 miles, then the last 5 I was to run how I feel. Therein is another issue. What does that mean, how I feel? In my warped mined it means running hard for the last 5 miles, but I didn't feel that strong. And I didn't feel well. My stomach was cramping and I was in am dire need of a bathroom but I would not stop for fear of losing time. The time had become more important than "running how I feel".
Sure enough my last 5 miles were pretty fast, at least for me, with the last mile an 8:27. And these mile are where the hills are! But when I finish my time is 2:00:15. I was sure I would be under a 2:00 and I felt dissappointed.
When I go back to look at my split times on my Garmin I realized that I followed the plan almost exactly with a BIG push in the last 5 miles, so much of a push I made myself sick. And then it hits me, the whole plan was to hit the goal of a 2 hour half marathon. Had I really given it thought ahead of time I would have remembered. I hit the goal for which I trained. And that is a successful race.
So what did I learn about me:
1. I can meet my goals when I train for them, but I ALWAYS think I can beat the goal, even if it's unrealistic
2. I place unrealistic goals on myself based on the performance of others
3. I can't just go run a race for fun, I am way to competitive with myself and I feel like I have to push even when perhaps I should not
What will these lessons do for me now? Well I am not sure, not yet. I think I will just wait and see how it goes, keep them in mind, and try to train for the goal and then when I meet the goal, be happy in having accomplished what I set out to do.
All in all I came in 25th out of 255 runners in my age and gender division. This is the top 10%. You can't be unhappy with that number.
Today was the Cowtown Half Marathon. This is a tough race with brick roads and three very tough, long hills in the last miles of the race.
Going in I knew my plan was to run the first 3 at a 10 minute mile, the next 5 at a 9:00 minute mile, and the last 5 how I felt. But what I did not do was think about what this meant for a total time in the race.
Two weeks ago we ran the Hot Chocolate 15K, I did well and felt very good so in my mind I really thought that I would be able to run strong in Cowtown. I didn't really think about what that meant to me. What does running well mean? And how can that be measured if you don't know what the goal was originally?
I was able to follow to my plan (provided by my coach) and hit the times pretty close through the first 8 miles, then the last 5 I was to run how I feel. Therein is another issue. What does that mean, how I feel? In my warped mined it means running hard for the last 5 miles, but I didn't feel that strong. And I didn't feel well. My stomach was cramping and I was in am dire need of a bathroom but I would not stop for fear of losing time. The time had become more important than "running how I feel".
Sure enough my last 5 miles were pretty fast, at least for me, with the last mile an 8:27. And these mile are where the hills are! But when I finish my time is 2:00:15. I was sure I would be under a 2:00 and I felt dissappointed.
When I go back to look at my split times on my Garmin I realized that I followed the plan almost exactly with a BIG push in the last 5 miles, so much of a push I made myself sick. And then it hits me, the whole plan was to hit the goal of a 2 hour half marathon. Had I really given it thought ahead of time I would have remembered. I hit the goal for which I trained. And that is a successful race.
So what did I learn about me:
1. I can meet my goals when I train for them, but I ALWAYS think I can beat the goal, even if it's unrealistic
2. I place unrealistic goals on myself based on the performance of others
3. I can't just go run a race for fun, I am way to competitive with myself and I feel like I have to push even when perhaps I should not
What will these lessons do for me now? Well I am not sure, not yet. I think I will just wait and see how it goes, keep them in mind, and try to train for the goal and then when I meet the goal, be happy in having accomplished what I set out to do.
All in all I came in 25th out of 255 runners in my age and gender division. This is the top 10%. You can't be unhappy with that number.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Unintended Speed Work
A couple of weeks ago we were running on a country road at 6:15 in the morning. It was a morning without a moon so it was very dark. As we were running I see a dark silhouette shoot across the road. Me "Look did you see that?" Terry "you are crazy, you didn't see anything, you are getting old" We run a bit further and I see it again this time on the side of the road. Me "there it is!" Terry "yeah I see it, I think". As we get a bit close it becomes clear the skunk is small but running in the little ditch right beside us, keeping pace right along with us.
Screech...we come to a halt. Me "What do we do? If we get in front of him will he turn and spray" Terry "I don't know, we can wait" Me "Let's outrun him, sprint until we get past him" Terry "OK, let's go".
We take off pushing our pace, we catch up to him and for a few seconds he is beside us and then we pass him. Not daring to stop we keep our sprint pace until we are sure we are far enough ahead that he won't catch us.
Success! We did indeed outrun a skunk on a day when speed work was not on the plan. Nothing like unintended speed work.
Screech...we come to a halt. Me "What do we do? If we get in front of him will he turn and spray" Terry "I don't know, we can wait" Me "Let's outrun him, sprint until we get past him" Terry "OK, let's go".
We take off pushing our pace, we catch up to him and for a few seconds he is beside us and then we pass him. Not daring to stop we keep our sprint pace until we are sure we are far enough ahead that he won't catch us.
Success! We did indeed outrun a skunk on a day when speed work was not on the plan. Nothing like unintended speed work.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Sun and Moon
It is easy in this mess we call life to forget to see what is around us. This morning I was reminded that each day is a new day.
I left boot camp at 5 am, not really in the mood to run, but on my schedule it called for 4 miles. And so I switched my shoes, put on my Garmin and my shuffle, and hit the road. By chance, or maybe not, my music was set to Mercy Me. Soon I was moving to the music without feeling a struggle from the run.
As I ran I realized it was cloudy, big thunder clouds with rain in the far distance. Although it was still dark the moon, not quite full, was boldly shining behind the clouds, occasionally peaking through to shed a graceful glow on the world around me.
A few minutes later I realized that I was experiencing one of those times when the not quite full moon was shining through the dark clouds to the west and the sun's orange glow was lighting the sky in the east. The mixing of dark, light, orange sunrise and moonlight, wow. I had to stop and just be still in awe of what God can do.
I left boot camp at 5 am, not really in the mood to run, but on my schedule it called for 4 miles. And so I switched my shoes, put on my Garmin and my shuffle, and hit the road. By chance, or maybe not, my music was set to Mercy Me. Soon I was moving to the music without feeling a struggle from the run.
As I ran I realized it was cloudy, big thunder clouds with rain in the far distance. Although it was still dark the moon, not quite full, was boldly shining behind the clouds, occasionally peaking through to shed a graceful glow on the world around me.
A few minutes later I realized that I was experiencing one of those times when the not quite full moon was shining through the dark clouds to the west and the sun's orange glow was lighting the sky in the east. The mixing of dark, light, orange sunrise and moonlight, wow. I had to stop and just be still in awe of what God can do.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Missoula Marathon
Have you seen the movie "A River Runs Through It" ? The scenery outside of Missoula really hasn't changed much. Oh sure there are a few roads and cars, but the homes are separated by enough land to give you freedom, the rivers still run wide and deep, this year especially with the unusual amount of snowfall, and the mountains still had snow even in July.
The marathon started outside of Missoula in a little "don't blink your eyes" town, at dawn.
Fireworks against the soft glow of the morning rays just barely starting to light the sky was the signal that it was time to run.
From the moment we began with the day dawning and a much appreciated 48 degrees, I really did not feel my feet hit the ground. I was too distracted by the amazing views of the mountains that surround this glacial valley.
But it wasn't just the mountains, it was the people. From the farmhouse who had a wagon at the end of their long driveway with flowers and a sign welcoming us and a box of tissue tied to the mailbox. Someone new how runners noses ....well...run! To the couple who rode their horses through the valley to cheer us on.
And then there was the long hill, the only hill, but a doozy of a hill at the mid way point. Normally this would ruin my day but I was so in love with this country, the river, the trees, the valley, the mountains, the snow, the clear blue sky...I sailed right up, then struggled downhill a bit, a little tough on the knees.
After the hill and around the bend, music. Not a band, not a radio, but a baby grand piano, in the middle of this beautiful green grass behind a white fence and in front of a beautiful farm house. There, in a tux, was a man playing a baby grand piano. The music seemed to sweep me off of my feet and my tempo picked up. What a treat.
Soon we were heading into town and everywhere, and I mean everywhere, people were out with their hoses and sprinklers holding them out to let us run through. This is something runners truly appreciate, by now the sun is up and shining bright and although the temperatures are cool, we are still hot, oh does that cold water feel good! You find misters on many courses but nothing like this, not this many, not people with their own hoses, their own sprinklers...cheering you on, welcoming you to their neck of the woods.
As we approach mile 20 the inevitable happens, my legs begin to feel heavy. This is how it happens in the marathon. Mile 20 to 23 is always the toughest, you are just plain worn out. My plan was to increase pace for that last 10K and so, legs heavy, but mind positive and thrilled my knee is feeling good, I slowly begin to run a little faster.
The euphoria speaks to my legs willing them to stay with it, keep going, soon the beer will flow. And they respond. At mile 23 I increase a bit more, just a little but enough to know it's an increase in pace.
The last mile I am oblivious to the pain in my legs and my feet. I am amazed that I am running faster in this last mile and then it's up and over the bridge. With the Clark Fork River flowing beneath me I see my family standing on the right of the course. I move over for a quick high five and run in with a smile on my face and a deep love for Missoula.
Oh the mountains they call me home...and there someday I shall be!
The marathon started outside of Missoula in a little "don't blink your eyes" town, at dawn.
Fireworks against the soft glow of the morning rays just barely starting to light the sky was the signal that it was time to run.
From the moment we began with the day dawning and a much appreciated 48 degrees, I really did not feel my feet hit the ground. I was too distracted by the amazing views of the mountains that surround this glacial valley.
But it wasn't just the mountains, it was the people. From the farmhouse who had a wagon at the end of their long driveway with flowers and a sign welcoming us and a box of tissue tied to the mailbox. Someone new how runners noses ....well...run! To the couple who rode their horses through the valley to cheer us on.
And then there was the long hill, the only hill, but a doozy of a hill at the mid way point. Normally this would ruin my day but I was so in love with this country, the river, the trees, the valley, the mountains, the snow, the clear blue sky...I sailed right up, then struggled downhill a bit, a little tough on the knees.
After the hill and around the bend, music. Not a band, not a radio, but a baby grand piano, in the middle of this beautiful green grass behind a white fence and in front of a beautiful farm house. There, in a tux, was a man playing a baby grand piano. The music seemed to sweep me off of my feet and my tempo picked up. What a treat.
Soon we were heading into town and everywhere, and I mean everywhere, people were out with their hoses and sprinklers holding them out to let us run through. This is something runners truly appreciate, by now the sun is up and shining bright and although the temperatures are cool, we are still hot, oh does that cold water feel good! You find misters on many courses but nothing like this, not this many, not people with their own hoses, their own sprinklers...cheering you on, welcoming you to their neck of the woods.
As we approach mile 20 the inevitable happens, my legs begin to feel heavy. This is how it happens in the marathon. Mile 20 to 23 is always the toughest, you are just plain worn out. My plan was to increase pace for that last 10K and so, legs heavy, but mind positive and thrilled my knee is feeling good, I slowly begin to run a little faster.
The euphoria speaks to my legs willing them to stay with it, keep going, soon the beer will flow. And they respond. At mile 23 I increase a bit more, just a little but enough to know it's an increase in pace.
The last mile I am oblivious to the pain in my legs and my feet. I am amazed that I am running faster in this last mile and then it's up and over the bridge. With the Clark Fork River flowing beneath me I see my family standing on the right of the course. I move over for a quick high five and run in with a smile on my face and a deep love for Missoula.
Oh the mountains they call me home...and there someday I shall be!
Monday, July 25, 2011
Training for Missoula
It's been almost a year since my knee surgery. Two days after the surgery I was walking, not far but walking. Three days afterward I was walking three miles. Slowly I built up to 6 or 7 miles every day. It took about two weeks to get there, but get there I did!
Two weeks afterward I started back swimming, after the incision healed. And three weeks afterward I started boot camp.
As you can see I was not sitting on my tush doing nothing! However, it was 9 weeks before I started running again. It really wasn't running in the beginning it was more like very light jogging and for very short distances.
I won't go backwards to relive, I just want to take a moment to remember that only 9 months ago I was whining, worried, concerned, and afraid that I would never be able to run again. Taking that first step after the surgery was scary and for months the runs were hard and I struggled. My leg was weak, my knee was sore, by breathing was labored. And yet I kept with it, kept with the push to get to my goal.
I am constantly reminded of how the human body can adapt. People who don't push themselves will never know what it's like to keep going, push through, and then one day you realize that you were able to obtain a goal you never thought possible. Our bodies and our minds are amazing machines.
My goal for after surgery was to do the Missoula Marathon and feel good, no pain, no injury, and enjoyable experience. (Well as much as is possible in a marathon).
Running strength for my knee began in October but after the Cowtown Half Marathon, where I did not feel my best, my training for the Missoula Marathon began. The training went well until June. In the years we've lived here June has always been a pleasant month. It does get warmer but generally in the mornings it's something we can handle. This year June days hit 100 plus and it hasn't changed. We are now in our 25th day of temeratures over 100. I am NOT a warm weather runner. I much prefer the 40's to the 80's. And yet here I was doing longer and longer runs in temperatures 80 and above even at 6:00 in the morning.
It is a known fact that your heart has to pump harder in hotter more humid weather, my heart consistently felt like it was going to pump right out of my chest. And yet I stuck to it, getting my long runs in. And then came my first 19 mile run. I made it but it was a struggle.
The next long run of 19 miles was again very tough, I just couldn't keep enough water or fuel in my body. I didn't want it but I had to have it.
And then two weeks before the marathon came my last long run, 21 miles. We started early but the temperature and the humidity were high that day. I was doing ok until mile 14. That is when I began to feel sick. I found that I couldn't drink and couldn't eat my gels without feeling sick. And yet in the heat I needed those two things in my body. The sun was up by now and blaring down baking my shoulders, pounding me into the ground. I felt like the wicked witch of the west melting into the dirt below my feet.
I made it to 17 miles where my husband was waiting. His comment was "you are weaving", not a good sign. I was struggling to even make my legs move. Four more miles, that's it! Surely I could go four more miles. At 17 I rested for a bit went on but found that I could only walk and so mile 18 was a walk not a run, not even a slow jog. I just could not go forward and consistently felt as if I were going to lay down and never get up. Dizzy, sick, there is just a point where you know something is wrong and I was at that point. And so I quit. My 21 mile run never happened.
It was too late to do another long run, it was time for the taper. To be forthright I was happy to be tapering but also concerned that my lack of completion on that last long run would come back to bite me later. My coach assured me I would be fine and so with confidence I let it go and was able to relax. After all my goal was to enjoy the marathon, not go out and hit a tough pace. I knew I could at least finish in good form.
And so my last two training weeks, the taper weeks, were good. And then we fly to Missoula.
Two weeks afterward I started back swimming, after the incision healed. And three weeks afterward I started boot camp.
As you can see I was not sitting on my tush doing nothing! However, it was 9 weeks before I started running again. It really wasn't running in the beginning it was more like very light jogging and for very short distances.
I won't go backwards to relive, I just want to take a moment to remember that only 9 months ago I was whining, worried, concerned, and afraid that I would never be able to run again. Taking that first step after the surgery was scary and for months the runs were hard and I struggled. My leg was weak, my knee was sore, by breathing was labored. And yet I kept with it, kept with the push to get to my goal.
I am constantly reminded of how the human body can adapt. People who don't push themselves will never know what it's like to keep going, push through, and then one day you realize that you were able to obtain a goal you never thought possible. Our bodies and our minds are amazing machines.
My goal for after surgery was to do the Missoula Marathon and feel good, no pain, no injury, and enjoyable experience. (Well as much as is possible in a marathon).
Running strength for my knee began in October but after the Cowtown Half Marathon, where I did not feel my best, my training for the Missoula Marathon began. The training went well until June. In the years we've lived here June has always been a pleasant month. It does get warmer but generally in the mornings it's something we can handle. This year June days hit 100 plus and it hasn't changed. We are now in our 25th day of temeratures over 100. I am NOT a warm weather runner. I much prefer the 40's to the 80's. And yet here I was doing longer and longer runs in temperatures 80 and above even at 6:00 in the morning.
It is a known fact that your heart has to pump harder in hotter more humid weather, my heart consistently felt like it was going to pump right out of my chest. And yet I stuck to it, getting my long runs in. And then came my first 19 mile run. I made it but it was a struggle.
The next long run of 19 miles was again very tough, I just couldn't keep enough water or fuel in my body. I didn't want it but I had to have it.
And then two weeks before the marathon came my last long run, 21 miles. We started early but the temperature and the humidity were high that day. I was doing ok until mile 14. That is when I began to feel sick. I found that I couldn't drink and couldn't eat my gels without feeling sick. And yet in the heat I needed those two things in my body. The sun was up by now and blaring down baking my shoulders, pounding me into the ground. I felt like the wicked witch of the west melting into the dirt below my feet.
I made it to 17 miles where my husband was waiting. His comment was "you are weaving", not a good sign. I was struggling to even make my legs move. Four more miles, that's it! Surely I could go four more miles. At 17 I rested for a bit went on but found that I could only walk and so mile 18 was a walk not a run, not even a slow jog. I just could not go forward and consistently felt as if I were going to lay down and never get up. Dizzy, sick, there is just a point where you know something is wrong and I was at that point. And so I quit. My 21 mile run never happened.
It was too late to do another long run, it was time for the taper. To be forthright I was happy to be tapering but also concerned that my lack of completion on that last long run would come back to bite me later. My coach assured me I would be fine and so with confidence I let it go and was able to relax. After all my goal was to enjoy the marathon, not go out and hit a tough pace. I knew I could at least finish in good form.
And so my last two training weeks, the taper weeks, were good. And then we fly to Missoula.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Missoula Marathon
If you read my last blog you know that training for the Missoula Marathon was tough. Living in Texas, in a drought year where the temperature has been over 100 every day from the end of May until now, July 17.
Training runs early in the morning, 5:30 or 6:00 am, but still in the 80's at the start of the run. And then add to that any humidity hanging around it's a recipe for disaster. You know I just don't understand how it can be humid and yet not a chance of any rain...how does that work exactly?
Anyway back to that recipe for disaster. I was able to acclimate some and the shorter, 6-8 miles, were OK. Not great but OK. It was the long runs that killed me. It's just not easy for me to run in high heat for a long time. And so the training this time around was killer and I struggled with dehydration.
I began this blog by detailing the race, then I deleted it all. Instead I am going to attempt to capture the emotions. But not tonight. For tonight suffice it to say it was the best marathon I've run. Not that it was the best time, but it was the most beautiful, the best put together, and the most amazing experience. Perfect weather, beautiful scenery and incredible local support.
More to follow...
Training runs early in the morning, 5:30 or 6:00 am, but still in the 80's at the start of the run. And then add to that any humidity hanging around it's a recipe for disaster. You know I just don't understand how it can be humid and yet not a chance of any rain...how does that work exactly?
Anyway back to that recipe for disaster. I was able to acclimate some and the shorter, 6-8 miles, were OK. Not great but OK. It was the long runs that killed me. It's just not easy for me to run in high heat for a long time. And so the training this time around was killer and I struggled with dehydration.
I began this blog by detailing the race, then I deleted it all. Instead I am going to attempt to capture the emotions. But not tonight. For tonight suffice it to say it was the best marathon I've run. Not that it was the best time, but it was the most beautiful, the best put together, and the most amazing experience. Perfect weather, beautiful scenery and incredible local support.
More to follow...
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