Checking in from Philadelphia

Quick. And running-related.

I DID run 18 miles two weekends ago. It was tough. And boring. And not so very much fun. But I covered the 18 miles. (And I ran out of water...that was really tough, too.) But it didn't kill me. So that was good, too.

THEN, my daughter came up/down with pneumonia. It started on the Sunday night of my 18 miler. She couldn't lay down without vomiting from coughing. The week that followed was full of not working, lots of laundry, several runs to the doctor and pharmacy, and very little sleep. I'm a mom. It means I'm a slower runner than I used to be and that small people puke on me. I'm okay with that. But it was a tough, tough week.

THEN, my parents showed up to watch my daughter for the week while my husband and I flew off to Philadelphia so that I could present at a conference this week. That was tough, too. I packed my running shoes, but tomorrow will be the first day that I get on a treadmill. Running downtown Philly doesn't appeal to me--too many stoplights. But I'd love to get out to Fairmount park. It is amazing. I have put several miles on my legs with all the walking I've been doing, and I have been going to bed every night exhausted. But I've gotta run. Tomorrow. This weekend.

Like I said, I'm a mom now. Stuff gets in the way. Puke gets in the way. And I'm okay with that. (But it also means I better get more okay with a long, long, long, slow, slow, slow marathon.)

Yesterday's run was brought to me by the letter "R"

Running stroller + Ruby Grace + wind Resistance + Reality + REALLY warm

Yesterday was the start of a much-needed four-day weekend, and I took advantage of the free morning to pull the running stroller out of the closet and take the Rooster out for a run. A tough, tough run.

There was a lot going on. Roo is now 25 pounds big. Even though we bought a top-of-the-line running stroller, that's still a bit of weight to push. And there was a wind. I felt like I was trying to push a small horse down the road. A small, reluctant horse. The 70+ degree day was beautiful. It was the hottest I've been on a run in months. I was drenched by the halfway point. So grateful for my small, reluctant horse of a running stroller to carry my water bottle!

I intended to run somewhere between four and eight miles. Thunderstorms were threatening. I wasn't sure how Roo was going to do in the stroller for that length of time. And I was waiting for a call that was going to change my schedule for the day, so I felt like I couldn't commit to a specific distance.

All that being said...what a great, tough run! Roo is a champ in the running stroller. We talked for the whole run. She pointed out every bird, butterfly, and big tree along the way. Whenever I drank, she drank (never too early to instill an understanding of the importance of hydration). And she loved the ride so much that when we got home, she insisted on staying in the stroller for her morning snack.

I do not always gauge runs by the distance, and yesterday was all about gauging by effort required to finish the run. Despite only getting in five very slow miles, I felt like I had gotten in a very hard eight. More stroller runs to come, for sure.

18 miler coming up this weekend.

Running with the fishes

Today's thoughts:

1. 80 degree days are awesome. The bugs think so, too. I ate a few. The ones I ate probably don't think it's such an awesome deal.

2. I will never understand why cars refuse to give me an extra foot on the side of the country road that I live on. Seriously. You have a several ton vehicle. I am not challenging you. I am sure your manhood is adequately sized. Is there any other reason you can't just flick your wrist ever so slightly to the left to give me a little extra shoulder? C'mon, man.

3. Warm days bring people out of the woodwork, too. White, pasty people.

4. I was running so hobbly today that I probably could have been mistaken for one of those people who hibernated all winter, saw the first warm day, and made a break for freedom. I'm pretty sure I run these same roads enough that people have seen me out in all weather, but I was watching my shadow today and thinking I didn't look like a girl who has already done half of her total mileage from last year.

5. I saw a fish on the road today. At the 2-mile marker. It was dead. And in the road. About 30 inches of fish. If I had had my phone, I would have taken a picture. If you know anything about where I live (all farmland, no water), you know that fish had no business being there.

That's pretty much it for me so far this week.

17. Check.

For now, that's about all I have to say about that. I did it. Oh, and ouch.

Falling off the wagon and finding my way back to the saddle...on being discouraged

Ran last Sunday and totally bonked. Nothing else this week. Work. Only work. Monday through Thursday of this week, I came home every night from a long day and felt like I would barely make it to put my daughter to bed for the night. Could not get myself into that headspace where I needed to run no matter what. I felt like I was getting my ass kicked by Maslow's hierarchy of needs, and I was stuck at the bottom of the pyramid.

I can list the reasons...er, excuses...er, reasons. But I have not run this week. And I'm looking at a 17 mile long run this weekend. And I'm mentally in a strange place. I've never tried to pull off a marathon on this kind of training nonsense, so I'm in new territory. I feel like I can totally recover from this bad/blah week with a solid run this weekend, so I'm putting a lot of weight in that long run. What if I can't pull it together?

Here's the thing, I'm not a "What if?" kind of a gal. I played that game when I was at Ironman Wisconsin the first time around, and I pretty much put that to rest. With "What if?", just answer the question, and it's done. Ironman Wisconsin--What if I use up everything I have on the swim? What if my bike breaks down? What if the hills really are as bad as they look on the course profile? What if I forget my sunscreen? What if I get dehydrated and can't get caught up? What if I don't make the cutoff times? You name it, I asked it. And I answered every single one of them before I even got to Madison. Most of the answers were something along the lines of, "I would suck it up and move on."

So I'm surprised to find myself "What if"ing again this week. Time to turn it on...

What if? I'll gauge it. And try it again on Sunday.
What if? I'll plan walk breaks and take them.
What if? I'll do better with nutrition this week.
What if? If I don't get out first thing tomorrow morning, I'll wait until Sunday morning.

And I've got to be consistent in my other runs this week. I'm a lucky duck. Spring is just around the corner, and the changing of the clocks on Sunday promises longer daylight hours after work. Shut down the what-ifs, and get back in the saddle.

(not so) Long (very) Slow (not-so-much) Distance day

I listened to a story on NPR today about a guy who suffers from a malady that is a combination of narcolepsy and instant paralysis caused by feeling extreme emotion. You can listen to the story here.  Whenever he feels extreme joy or sadness, he goes into a stupor which apparently feels the way I often feel when I am between asleep and awake--aware of the world around me but unable to move or do anything about it. This guy wanted to go to his brother's wedding, so they propped him up against the wall for the entire event because he was unable to move. They took the wedding pictures around him.

My not so Long, very Slow, best-of-intentions-to-be-a Distance run today turned into a short jaunt out into the countryside. Looking for a connection to the above paragraph? About six miles in, my legs did not want to turn over. I went from running. To walking. To not even wanting to walk. I think I could have happily sat next to the road and watched the traffic pass despite the 30 mph winds and 40 degree temperatures. I felt a bit like I imagine that guy feels right before he really goes into one of his episodes.

Coincidence that I actually heard this guy's story while I was out running today? Perhaps. But really, I'm realizing that I just bonked out there today. It's been a while since I bonked. And especially a while since I bonked on such a short run. But when you let your reserves run low and then head out on a run without enough nutrition or water in your system, that's exactly what happens. Fixable. And not really all that miserable. Part of a bonk is accepting that it is what it is. Wish I could say that it was extreme joy that had pushed me to the point of feeling like I was ready to sleep next to the road. Instead, it was just poor planning.

Back in the saddle again for a hopefully LerSD next week Sunday. (17miler coming up!)

Runner's Calm at 3.12

I ran 4 miles on Thursday, but it took me exactly 3.12 miles to unwind. I know because I looked at my watch when I realized it had happened. I told a friend about it the next day and he said, "So, runner's high?" I said, "No, more like runner's calm."

I can't write extensively about the source of my stress here because the source of my stress actually has a name. I do think, though, that part of the reason I have been so stressed has been that I have not mentally relied enough on the things I know about the world because I am a runner:

1. Running doesn't always feel good. When a run goes south, as they say (although now that I live in the south, I'm wondering why we put up with that metaphor for things going poorly), you just keep running. One of two things will happen: you will start to feel better, or you will finish the run. Amen to either.

2. There is always a finish line. Even when there isn't a real finish line, there is always my mailbox. The run can't go on forever.

3. Other people might run with you, past you, or hang behind you. How much you let them impact your run is totally up to you. If you are doing a run that is central to your plan, you may need to cut loose the people who can't hang with you.

4. Recovery is essential, but it means giving the body a day or two off, even if the mind says to hit the pavement.

The stress sucks. It doesn't feel good. The finish line is on the calendar. And I have a clear picture of who is going to hang. So on to planning number four; time to talk with dear hubby about that summer vacation.

Any to add to the list?