Woe is me

My running mood reflected my work mood today. Crabby. Impatient. Worn out. Just trying to make it to the end.

My dumb gps said I only made 3.88...even though the same distance last week showed up as 4.25. Thinking about asking Santa for a Garmin watch. Gotta more than double that distance on Sunday.

Another kind of day

I set out on this gray, cool, breezy afternoon for an easy 3 miler. Wasn't expecting such an unpleasant 34 minutes. Not after my stellar 6 miles Sunday. While I spastically swatted hairs from my face, I retraced my last 24 hours for a concrete reason why the run was so abysmal.

Not enough carbs?

Not enough water?

Wearing boots all morning fatigued my calf muscles?

Andrew Bird is killing my vibe?

I waited the 20 mins or so until my second wind usually kicks in...nothing. Sometimes it's just a drag.

Warming up

I had an uncomfortable hour or so before my lunch run. My heart was...hiccupping. I felt very anxious. My stomach was empty, gurgley, even though I had a nice breakfast of banana and "fitness trail mix." My bad foot fell asleep after I crossed my legs too long, and I noticed as I put my shoes on I still had no feeling in my little toe. I was shaky and shivery, and I took my first steps slowly, feeling like I couldn't control my legs. My instinct was right because I felt twinges in my left ankle, then my right, and I faltered a little. Nothing serious, but it kept me from pushing myself for speed. Today I just wanted to make 4 and get back in time for a slice of leftover pizza.

I got to my 2 mile turnaround, Jackson and Lake Shore Drive. And it struck me, with the wind to my back, just how ridiculously beautiful it was out there. And the music picked up, and my arms started pumping, and bam-second wind. The fuel I put in my ears during a run is just as important as food and water. Just try to have a bad run-or a bad anything-with Arcade Fire's "Wake Up" playing. Some of my best, most life-affirming moments, running or otherwise, have involved good music. Trying to think of ways to beef up my music device so I don't run out during the most grueling 7-8 hours of my life on Feb 7.

Or-who knows. Maybe I'll want to power down and absorb the sounds on the mountain.

Going the extra mile

I'm still adjusting to the idea of one longer run per week. Scared to repeatedly put myself through the same daunting task of systematically making a hard thing even harder...and comforted by the fact that there is something to be gained no matter the outcome.

I'm about one week into my 16-week marathon training, and today was my first attempt at gaining distance. I started out with the sun barely crowning over the trees. From what I recalled, I estimated that I could do a straight line towards downtown Arlington Heights, to Javier's and back (boy were those chips and guacamole good last night), to make my 6 miles. I left feeling cold and stiff (34 degrees according to my yahoo weather app). My face froze instantly, and hands followed. Though I've been doing this long enough to know that within minutes the blood starts pumping to my extremities and before long my palms were sweating. I heard Ann's words echoing as my legs struggled with short awkward strides, "I used to sign up for races, and the day before I'd be like, no way." This is good to hear. Ann is one of the toughest people I know, when she puts her mind to something. But she also has the sense to call it off when something doesn't feel right. I can eat the cost of a race, it won't break the bank. Anyway the race is at the beach so even if I get all the way out there and don't set foot on the course, a dip in the ocean will cure my grief.

I'm slogging away, having this little dialogue with myself, and my RunKeeper app chimes in "Distance: Zero point eight one miles," and my heart skips and my brain blurts out "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? YOU THINK YOU CAN MAKE 6 MILES?! YOU SHOULD JUST TURN AROUND, DUMMY, YOU'RE ALREADY EXHAUSTED!" My breathing gets faster, there's mucus in my throat, I know I should've had more water, and food, I feel so unprepared. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Cough. Thump. Sigh. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Shut up Brain.

I focused on the sun hitting the red and orange trees, evergreens mixed in creating a perfect contrast worthy of a lesson in a Color Theory 101 textbook. An exquisite sight right here along the tracks in my old stomping grounds. Frost on the outfield at the ball park, turning it a sparkly jade color. The volume of my old trusty running soundtrack is low, and I can hear the dull clink of an aluminum bat making contact with a ball...holy cow, a line drive. Seriously, there are kids practicing fall ball at this hour?

This! This is why running outdoors is far and away more enjoyable than running at the gym.

Breathing is getting more regular. Negative thoughts are still creeping in-but they're quieter now, I can hear them but just barely. I'm not reacting to them now. Now and then I check in with my old creaky joints. Hips, a little stiff. Left one aches. Left ankle too, plantar faciitis stings but not bad. I try bouncing a little more. Cory says your body uses almost all your muscles to run, so I try to put more of the burden on my glutes, my abs, my shoulders-pumping my arms sometimes makes me feel more fluid. Makes it feel more like dancing. This little pep talk with my body does a lot to put my attention on my whole entire body as a unit, and seems to put me in a more relaxed and natural stride. "Distance: One point seven five miles." Come on! Oh wait, that means I can turn around in...uh...0.75 plus half of 0.75, carry the 1...ah shit. How do I make it so this thing just chimes every 0.5 miles?

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Coming up over the hill (they weren't kidding around when they named it Arlington "Heights"). There's the Bubble Tea place...there's Eddie's. There's Village Grill (oh, hi Penny). Javier's! Now do I push myself and go around the block to turn around? I'm starting to ache and kinda need to retrace back down that little hill for motivation...Couple of heel stretches and let's turn this thing around and get some sun on my face. By now I've been running 35 mins without stopping and that gives me a tiny confidence boost because that is the only prerequisite for beginning this marathon training program. Some days I still feel like I can't even do that. So it helps to check it off each time I do.

The sun gave me some extra fuel, as did the downhill view of my downtown water tower/finish line. As these runs get longer I'll be more and more thrilled to go an extra half mile. Past the downtown, past the racetrack, past the post office, even past the highway, maybe even to Deer Park. And likewise ever more excited to see the symbol of my home town come into view. The Mariano's (with its public bathroom and water fountain, just in case), the Culver's, the 7-11, my personal milestones on this weekly journey. Step by step, each time getting further from home, letting go of more heavy baggage, returning a little lighter.

"Distance: Five point seven one miles." Ah jeez. I'm practically at my front door...okay one time around the block for an even 6. I come around the north side of the library and think about going up and down this grassy slope that leads to the parking level. Careful now, aware that my thighs and ankles and pretty worn out. (But frankly more concerned about encountering a skunk.) The uphill stresses my injured left foot...eeek. But I manage. Something to keep an eye on. I think as long as I take it slow and stay mindful it might actually help heal it. I think of all the times (ok, maybe it was only one time) that I met a boy here in this secluded corner of the parking lot, seeking an entirely different type of thrill.

"Activity saved."

Now THAT is more like it

That Monday run was a tech glitch, I ran a full 1.5 at least! Nevertheless I was on a downward swing, until today!

Lunchtime runs, yes! Coffee and water and a few calories makes for a waaaaay better run.

Sometimes I have an off day

Yesterday I woke up feeling like there was no way I could rise from a warm bed and put in 3 miles. I looked outside at a puddle and was certain it was vibrating from raindrops. But I forced myself to look closer, and it was basically pretty dry. So I grumbled out the door. Not a drop of water in me. And I got about what I put in. About 1.5 miles in I dropped down to a walking pace, and slogged it all the way home. I felt lightheaded and crampy and my stomach was woozy.

Thinking of going back to my afternoon runs. Mornings are so dark and dreary, and with no time for coffee or water, I feel depleted before and after. Whereas last year at this time I was coming back from my lunchtime runs feeling refreshed, invincible even. I just have to get over the self-consciousness of coming and going with my running clothes on. I have to reprogram my brain to show on the outside how good it feels to be in my gear, working up a sweat, chasing away the demons.

Good stuff

The ladies' winner, Rita Jeptoo, just broke a record: 4th consecutive world class win by male or female. How great is that?

So glad I spent some years living in Lakeview where I could roll out of bed and down the block to feel the electricity of this race. I can only imagine how it feels to be on the course.

Back on track

Today is technically a rest day but I managed to squeak out 2.4 miles on stiff legs. I warmed up my ankles and massaged my soles before stepping out of bed, and did my Achilles stretches after the run, and it seems like it helped.

Chicago's marathon is this weekend...and now I'm seeing why so many people choose it over other courses-it's flat and fast. Finish times for regular folks are in the 3-4 hour range, while the fastest times for the Malibu race are more like 4.5-5, due to the terrain. I'll be taking that into account when I get to my long runs, and making a point of staying out in the elements for at least one 5 hour stretch to see how it feels...maybe in Naples.

Here's a fun tidbit: M*A*S*H was filmed in the state park where I'll be running. Ha. I watched it as a kid and was fully convinced that it was filmed in Korea. (Or at least somewhere in the Far East where wars took place.) It's 30 minutes from Hollywood so naturally a lot of big films were made there too.

Western medicine

I took a friend's advice and visited a podiatrist to discuss the heel pain I've been experiencing. This fast-talking doctor went through my medical history, and with barely a single notable event or ailment or allergy, he declared that I would be "an easy patient." He pinched my heel, and I squealed in pain, and he diagnosed me with plantar faciitis. He rattled off a course of treatment which included icing the ligament, doing some therapeutic stretches, and administering a series of cortisone shots in my heel. Somehow I assumed he meant this last thing was an optional treatment. Next thing I knew he was filling a syringe. He saw my apprehension and talked me through it, but I couldn't have anticipated the pain I was about to receive. When did doctors get so aggressive?! Now I'm feeling twice the pain. And my consolation prize? 90 days' worth of pain pills. The system is rigged.

120 days to go

This is 40: my best year ever. And to mark this age of enlightenment, I have decided to train for my first marathon. Join me as I work to achieve something that only 1% of people ever do.