Competitive Withdrawal Oblivion

After making fun of this book I decided that maybe this dated running book had some merits and decided to peruse it a little further.  With a two weeks to go until my marathon and nothing further to do to increase my readiness, I turned to the chapter "Competition: Transcending the Limitations".  I seriously have limitations that most certainly need to be transcended on race day.  I have been quite the marathon diva lately who likely has been driving her husband/coach and her running partner crazy for at least the last month.  Authors Allan Lawrence and Mark Scheid enlightened me as to why I've been so difficult.  Apparently I am suffering from Competitive Withdrawal Oblivion.   CWO is a state in which "the runner sees little apart from the starting line of the race, hears little of anything that is said to him, and remembers almost nothing of the pre-race activities when questioned after the race."  Those unfortunate enough to be around individuals exhibiting CWO shouldn't be offended by the ignorant, insensitive, or rude mannerisms of runners who suffer this malady. (p. 65)  Oh, how I love a psychological excuse for my poor, self-centered behavior! 

One more week until race day then I'll be back to my normal self.  Until then, here are some of the few things over which I will obsess:

1. Will my legs show up for the race after being temperamental for the last month?
2. Will all my speed work pay off and allow me to sustain a 9:10 average pace for 26.2 miles?
3. Will I be able to fend off trips to the Honey Bucket during the race?
4. Do I wear my new ultra light Asics DS Gel Trainers or my regular 2140 clod stompers?
5. Will I be able to operate the highly complicated Garmin 405?  
6. Will I get that amazing race high feeling that I usually get that gives me that extra boost of energy, speed and endurance?
7. Will Aunt Flo refrain from visiting on race day?
8. Will I run the entire race solo or will I meet up with some awesome people to help pass the miles and time?
9.   Will I cross the finish line victorious or painfully grapevine through it as I recently dreamed?

What? I was Supposed to Start Tapering a Week Ago?

[Warning: This post contains objectionable language.  I am afraid that I swear like a truck driver when I'm mad. Please don't hold this against me.  I'm still a relatively moral, intelligent and classy woman, mother and school teacher.]

Why did the marathon group have their longest run today? I wondered as I read a Facebook post from the ERC Marathon Team coach.  The previous day my running partner and I had opted for hitting the trails for our short "long" run of 13 miles or 2 hours whichever should come first.  The previous weekend we did 20 so it was time to rest up with a lower mileage long run day.  Other than my spring break slack-fest, I had been following my marathon training plan as only an OCD Type A person would.  I frantically went through my file of marathon training plans from the past and compared them to those that I had carefully crafted for Eugene 2010.  To my horror they all confirmed that I was a week behind schedule.  This meant that rather than having the customary and highly recommended three week taper period, that I would only have two weeks.  How the hell did this happen?  I was furious!  I was worried.  Should I go ahead with the 23 mile run I had scheduled for the following weekend or should I start tapering now?  Increase endurance and confidence or rest the old weary legs?  It was as if my life flashed before my eyes.  I had been carefully training for over 18 weeks and I might risk jeopardizing all that by fucking up my training weeks like a dumb ass.  SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!!!!

As if that weren't bad enough, my IT band hurt like a mofo.  It hurt just to walk.  It felt like 26.2 wasps were stinging me in the same 9 square inches of my leg each time it lifted up off the ground.  I retired all my shoes with heels, my Uggs, and basically anything remotely fashionable to try to salvage the last few muscles in my feet and legs that were still functioning.  Running shoes and Keens were my foot wear of choice.  This lack of cute shoes decreased my cute outfit options which in turn, didn't do much to lift my spirits.  

The night before my scheduled 23 miler, I surfed the web for some reassurance that a two week taper wouldn't be disastrous.  9 out of 10 resources supported three week long tapering.  This wasn't helping... I sought reassurance from my on-line running comrades.  They were all encouraging and supportive.  A running acquaintance of mine who ran Boston last year did so with a two week taper period and did very well.  Should I run 23 miles?  Even if I should, could I with the way my legs were feeling this week?  Steve, my husband, my coach, ultra-runner, man who has been running for flipping 30 plus years, pulled an old dusty running book from the 1980s off a shelf, rifled through and spewed a quote that two weeks are customary lengths for tapering.  He closed the book and with finality turned his attention away from me probably hoping that I would drop the subject and leave him alone.  What?!  This book was nearly older than me!  Gu energy gel hadn't even been invented yet!  Hell, there was one point that marathoners didn't even drink WATER?  For all I know, that could've been when the book was published.  Seriously?  What the hell did they know about distance running back then?  He sighed loudly and reassured me.  "You'll be fine.  Go out there and do it.  If you feel crummy, stop at the 15 mile or 19 mile point when you run near the car for water and food."  He was obviously done with this topic and ready to move on.

It's not in my nature to let something like this go.  I would analyze it, scrutinize it and get to bottom of the problem even though it was too late to do anything about it.  I am a planner, an organizer.  I couldn't let this go.  I needed to know how I FUCKED up so that I can prevent it from EVER happening again for AS LONG as I LIVE.  I  checked my on-line training plan and found that it allowed for a three week taper and that I indeed was a week behind.  Spring break slack fest.  It had to have been the culprit.  I felt that terrible foreboding feeling as  I tore throught the pages of my spiral bound running log (One can never have too many means of recording their running data.) to confirm my theory.  No, that wasn't it.  Upon close inspection I noticed that my log revealed that I had another week left until the marathon!  All my calendars and everyone else must be wrong!  Wait a minute... I have never been good with numbers.  Could it have been my error?  Upon close inspection of the dates, I discovered that after 4/19/10 came 4/14/10 followed by 4/15/10 and on, and on until you essentially have another week! 

Mystery solved.  I couldn't  believe it.  I hope that my marathon dreams don't go out the window because of some pesky date errors in my first ever running log.  What's done is done.  I'd have to make a decision.  I limped around the house, getting my Gu gels, Fig Newtons, water bottles and clothes together, I looked over the "Hands Free 23" that my amazing running partner, Laura had carefully crafted for the two of us.  She had gone out bought Gummi Bears, Lay's potato chips and water and stowed them away at various parts of our course that afternoon so we wouldn't have to carry anything and would have aid at least every four miles.  It really was a fine course, with plenty of bail out options that I could take if necessary.  My mind was ready for the run, my body would follow suit once it got started right?  It was my last long run with Laura who had been training for this thing with me.  Once again I was eternally grateful to have such a fabulous running partner.  In the end, she was the reason I made the 11th hour decision to quit whining and get out there running bright and early the following morning.

Maiden Voyage of My New Shoes

Say hello to my little friends.  I am the proud owner of a pair of Asics DS Trainers.  Compared to my Asics 2150 road shoes and 2150 trail shoes, these babies are super lightweight.  I'm counting on these new kicks, along with all the hard work that I've put in the last few months, to get me through the Eugene Marathon with the ultimate PR in less than 4 weeks.

I took these pink ladies for their maiden voyage today.  It was a beautiful sunny 70 degree day here in Eugene.  According to my marathon training plan and advice of hubby/coach, I was slated to run a nine mile cut down tempo run.  Before last night, I had never even heard of such a thing.  Today I would attempt to execute one with a gimpy leg.  Some muscle in my right leg has been giving me a load of grief for the last couple weeks.  I've been taking three Advil at least twice a day to keep the pain and mobility under control.  I was keenly aware of it during my mile warm up and wished for the umpteeth time that I was able to get an earlier appointment with my chiropractor to fix me up.  I had doubts that I'd be able to run seven consecutive miles, without rests, at increasing speeds.  I was supposed to start at 8:45 min/mi and cut back a few seconds after each mile for seven miles before cooling down. 

Fortunately Steve and the girls met me around two miles into the run.  They were playing at the playground by the park.  I was able to whine to Steve about my leg and how I doubted that I'd be able to do the distance and certainly wouldn't be able to run at the speed I was supposed to.  He listened without comment and fetched me an emergency Gu from our car, along with a drink of water.  I really just wanted him to take me home, but instead I handed him the sunglasses that I no longer needed and went on with my workout.  I was thankful for the brief companionship and encouragement from my sweet family.  I peeled out of there trying to look good running away from Steve in my running skirt at what felt like time warp speed. 

Thankfully my leg loosened up and I got into a nice rhythm.  I felt light and quick in my new shoes.  At times I was aware of the surface below my feet (uneven pavement, sticks, rocks on the path, etc.) as the Asics trainers are more minimal than what I'm accustomed to.  The shoes were comfy and supportive.  They passed my inspection.  The cut-down tempo run on the other hand...

Wowsers, are cut-down tempo runs ever tough!  I'd run my heart out for a mile, be overjoyed that I survived the whole ordeal, then have to run another one even faster!  There was no built in reward system like with intervals where you get rests in between your tough parts.  It truly is a masochistic workout.  I knew that this was similar to how I had planned to run my marathon so it was good practice.  Even though the miles were grueling, my confidence increased with each one. I was able to go faster than I thought for longer than I thought.  Thank you Steve for believing in me and setting up a workout that I otherwise wouldn't have attempted! 

I am happy to report that I clocked the miles fairly close to what I was supposed to.  Warm up mile, cut down seven miles: 9:24 (oops, slow but I was working through some leg issues & figuring out the watch) 8:36, 8:35, 8:33, 8:22 (hello!), 8:24 (am I done yet?), 8: 22 (Done! Woot!), cool down mile.  I must say that I felt like an athlete out there today in my shiny new shoes.  

 

Crunching Numbers for March Running

Mileage totals:

• March:  134.05  
• for the year:  371.93

Summary of speed work:  Whew!  I can't believe I squeezed in four of these!

• 4 mile tempo run w/ 8:14 mi/mi ave pace & .5 rests in between.  1 mi. w/up + 1 mi c/d

• 7 Yasso 800s w/ 7:45 min/mi ave pace.  2.75 mi w/up & .5 mi c/d

• 3x2mi intervals w/ 8:30 mi/mi ave pace & 3-1/2 min recovery in between.  Then 3x200m w/ 7:40 min/mi ave pace.  1 mi w/up & 1.5 mi c/d

• 8 mile tempo run w/ 9:05 min/mi ave pace

Summary of long runs: Ouch!  I missed an important 18 mile run last weekend. I am not proud to report the following.  To make myself feel better, I am reminding myself that I ran Hagg Lake 25 K on Feb. 20 and then ran 17 road miles on 2/27..

• 13 miles on Ridgeline Trail
• 20 miles on river bike path 
• 14 miles on river bike path

Easy and recovery runs:  Got these in on the trail and road.  Averaged 5 days of running a week except during spring break 

New iTune downloads:  Gotta keep the tuneage fresh to put in the mileage

• Sugar by Flo Rida
• Use Someone by Kings of Leon
• Runnin' Down a Dream by Tom Petty
• Kryponite by 3 Doors Down
• According to You by Orianthi

Final thoughts:
All this road running is beating up my body and boring my mind.  I can't wait to have this marathon in the bag so that I can get back to the glorious trails.  I finally made an appointment to see my chiropractor for some adjustments and ART as I am feeling discomfort in my left achilles and right hamstring.  Love the new Asics 2150 Trail shoes.  I'm looking forward to buying a pair of lightweight shoes for speed work and race day.

Farleking Shawty

Once a week, my training schedule demands that I do some sort of speed work. These might include a tempo run, interval run, track work or (brace yourself for this one) a fartlek. Isn't that a great word? It makes me smile every time I write it and chuckle every time I say it. Fartlek supposedly is Swedish for "speed play" but I have my own theories about the origins of the word. Very few people know this about me, but I tend to pass some loud and long (but surprisingly unsmelly) farts during my speed work. It's probably for the best that I do these workouts on my own. I can't help but wonder if fartlek really is Swedish for interjecting a normal run with sudden bursts of gas as as opposed to sudden bursts of speed like those Swedes claim.

I woke up this morning feeling rather unmotivated. It was pouring down rain and windy outside when my alarm clock went off at 5:20 AM the first day back from spring break. I was still beating myself up and feeling sorry for myself about my unplanned rest week as I suited up and headed out into the darkness. The first half mile I took inventory of how my body was feeling. I noticed every little ache and pain, the quickness and sound of my breath and the uneven feel of my gait. Noticing these things made me realize that I'm not as injured as I thought I was. A little visit to Dr. John to pop my hip back into place to make both legs the same length again and I should be good to go. If I wanted some extra assurance, I could ask him to bring out the metal hooks to rub along my inflamed lower leg muscles.

My attention quickly diverted to another topic like it so often does while running. This time it was about the music playing on my iPod. I have a bunch of hip hop songs and have found that many of them use the term "shawty". "Shawty fire burning on the dance floor..." "Shawty like a melody in my head..." "Shawty had them Apple Bottom jeans..." I wonder if I could pass for a shawty. Next thing I knew I was envisioning running the marathon with "Shawty" printed on my race bib under my race number. Geez, that'd be a nightmare! I'm no shawty! In fact, I'm not even exactly sure if I know what it truly means. I recently had to look it up in the Urban Dictionary and it had many entries some of which I would NOT want to be.

My run-right-out-the-front-door-at-the-butt-crack-of-dawn entails running an out and back on the scenic and heavily trafficked (aka safe) River Road. I get to run by endless fast food restaurants who omit odors more offensive than the numerous gas stations that I pass. One thing that I either love or hate, depending on the type of run I'm having is that there are a number of stop lights that I have or get to stop at. I am not the type of runner who runs in place while waiting for the walk signal. I tend to stretch and/or pound on the button to trigger the walk signal. I have this reoccurring fantasy of pulling out some hip hop moves and dancing to my music while I wait. If you were a driver heading off to work, wouldn't that just make your day seeing some runner getting their groove on at a stop light? Especially if I gave my "big bootie a smack... and got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low." Y'all listen to Flo Rida, right? If not, there's a link to you tube at the bottom (pun intended) of this post.

For whatever reason, this silly thought while waiting for the light to change, turned as dark as the sky this morning. I was dressed from head to toe in Sporthill with a variety of other runner accessories waiting at a stop light when a non-friendly voice called me a poser. What? Who said that? Oh, it was me. The negative internal conversation went on for a minute or so before I realized what I was doing to myself. I had to knock this off. To rid my mind of these thoughts I did the first thing that came to my mind. I ran as fast as I could. Dang that felt good! I coasted along feeling better. Next thing I know, another negative self deflating doozie of a thought came to mind. I sounded the buzzer (similar to the one you hear in Family Feud when the survey didn't say what I contestant had hoped) and took off running as fast as I could until I hit the next telephone pole.

Suddenly it dawned on me that I had invented a new version of fartlek. It was brilliant! My life coach would be so freakin' proud of me. Anytime I had a negative thought, I'd make a mad dash for the next landmark a ways down the road. I got in a many good bursts of speed during this mere four mile run. I was out for blood this morning and feeling mighty guilty for being mean, inadequate, inattentive or what have you. Once I reached the desired landmark during my surge, I'd slow down feeling more energetic, stronger and would replace the negative thought with a positive affirmation. Am I on to something here? Perhaps I have a running-self-help book in my future?

My first run of the week turned out to be an interesting one that got me over the hump that I previously couldn't seem to get over. For that, along with many kind, encouraging words from my family and friends, I am grateful. I was able to go out for another run after work that same evening. It was a fantastic eight mile tempo run in which I acknowledged my strengths and observed how all the different parts of my body were working together. It was work, but it felt great. I found that when my mind was strong and my feelings were in check that the running came naturally. I was even brave enough to envision what I would look like come marathon day and what the clock would say as I ran joyfully through the finishing chute.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FNkAzinHybE

8 Miles

I am torn... Should I put on my running clothes, lace up my shoes and head out into the pouring rain to try to catch up on my missed mileage? Should I pour myself a stiff Gin & Tonic, whine, complain, make excuses, beg for a massage and attempt to make an appointment with my overbooked chiropractor? I'm opting for stepping into my blogging confessional to share my sad tale of my embarrassingly dismal 8 mile week.

There is no hiding from the blank pages of my running log. 8 MILES?! During spring break?! I'm training for a fucking marathon here! C'mon! I can't even begin to remember when the last time I logged so few miles. My training has been uber-consistent. I have been following my carefully crafted training plan for months now. Until this week, not only had I not missed a single run or mile but have also managed to include speed work, long run, easy and recovery runs into my routine. I am wavering between self loathing and disbelief as I sit here trying to figure out what went wrong. Where has my mojo done?

I had 38 miles slated for the week. Seriously, that shouldn't have been any problem whatsoever. I was off for the week with my family for spring break. We were in beautiful Bend at a rustic 1,000 acre ranch with miles and miles of trails. I was surrounded by lots of family who would've gladly cared for my children while I ran. So what happened? I've had a rough joyless last two weeks of running. This is very rare for me. I LOVE to run! I usually look forward running and dread my rest days. As if that wasn't bad enough, my old injuries are resurfacing. Medial tibial stress syndrome, achilles tendonitis, along with some general knots in my glutes and hamstrings have made running less than fluid and sometimes downright painful. Would someone please remind me why I'm doing this to myself?

As if that weren't enough to keep a girl down, Bend has an elevation of 3,600-4,000 feet whereas Eugene has the elevation of 500 feet. Do you have any idea how that disparity might feel? Well, it feels like crap! I felt like a beginning runner again. My legs felt like lead. I couldn't get my breathing under control. I felt nauseous. I wanted to stop. My first run was a whopping 3 miler done at around 10:30 pace. My second run was a 5 miler done at a little over 10 min/mi. Scenary was gorgeous, weather was perfect but no matter how hard I tried to adjust my thinking, I just couldn't get into either run and was relieved when they were over. I had no desire to get out to torture myself at altitude. Not only had a freaked myself out the previous week of marathon training but this week freaked me out about my plans to run my first ultra, the Siskiyou Outback at an even greater elevation than Bend! Again, why I am I doing this to myself?

So there's no way around it. No way to make up for 30 miles of running that didn't happen. I'm going to put my faith in the what experts and fellow runners say about when they're feeling low, unmotivated or otherwise slacking in their training. What I am hoping that I just took my friends, is well-needed rest-week. I'm getting up early tomorrow morning, sporting my orange reflective vest and a miner headlamp and pulling myself up by my Asic's straps and getting back out there to run joyfully. In the meantime, I think I'll pour myself a GNT and think about all the fun things I did with my family that *gasp* didn't revolve around running during a fabulous spring break away together. Five more weeks of marathon training to go...

Normal? What's that?

I see myself as a typical working mom of a pair of adorable preschool kiddos. This means a whole lot of feeding, nurturing, educating, exercising and entertaining of busy little people while juggling my 32 hour a week job and a 30-40 mile-a-week running schedule. It wasn't until last night that it dawned on me that my family might be a little different. After tucking the girls into beds, my partner and I did an elaborate dance that involved each of us setting out clothes, Gu, water bottles, headlamps, Garmen and a sundry of other running paraphernalia. I was getting ready to hit the sack early for a 20 miler the following morning while Steve was getting ready to go for a six hour trail run at night. Hmmmm... Shouldn't we be snuggling on the couch in front of a DVD? Wouldn't that be more normal? Oh well, normal's overrated anyway, right?

Around 9:30 PM Steve took off for what looked like was going to be a very cold, wet and muddy trail run with a few friends. They planned on starting their run at 10 PM and running until 4 AM. I fell asleep right around the same time that he was leaving the house. My alarm was set for 5:30. I hoped to start my run at 6:00 AM and had a very specific plan for the speed at which I would run each of my 20 miles. An hour before my alarm was supposed to go off, my dog woke me up barking his fool head off at the front door. Steve was home and couldn't seem to get the key work in the lock. I helped him out, he apologized profusely and I went back to bed. Just as I started to drift off, Steve, bundled up in I don't know how many layers climbed into bed next to me. I guess I should have asked him how his run was but I was too concerned with the fact that he was now between our sheets without having taken a shower after his run. He assured me that he had enough clothes on to keep the dirt and sweat from transferring from his body to our bed. I can't say for sure, but I think I asked him how his run went. Turned out that it rained and snowed during his late night foray AND that raccoons tore apart the food that he left at a makeshift aid station. Despite the layers of clothes and heat pack that he had on, he shivered uncontrollably. This turned our bed into something comparable to the coin fed hotel beds with magic fingers, except without the massaging feature. Normal? I think not.

5:30 AM came all to quickly and off I went for my run leaving Steve to tend to our children who would likely be awake in one short hour. If you do the math, that gives Steve a whole three hours to sleep before having to turn into chef, activities director and life skills teacher for our daughters. I felt for him. I went out and did my thing. I will spare you the melodramatic details of running 20 miles with my only company being my iPod, a Garmen that kept revealing numbers that I didn't like and the friendly waves and smiles of a ton of other runners on the river path that morning.

I had a momma/kiddo lunch and theater date planned for 11:30, which would give me just enough time for a 15 minute ice bath, hot shower and quick breakfast. It turns out that my friend and her kids were sick and not able to attend. That gave me a little extra time before shoving off to provide my children with a culturally enriching weekend activity. Steve, who had hoped to catch a few more hours of sleep, offered to join the girls and I for the play. I think I found watching his heavy eyelids droop and seeing him nod off during the play more entertaining than the play itself. The girls enjoyed it though and each came home quite happy with a helium balloon and chocolate chip cookie. Steve and I were like total slugs while our daughters seemed to have a limitless supply of energy and kept demanding to be fed. They had already had two breakfasts, two snacks and one lunch. All Steve and I wanted to do was take a nap or at least peacefully lie horizontally on the couch or floor, we weren't picky. Our girls had other plans for us. Normal? Sure, kids regularly run their parents into the ground. I must say that having your husband gleefully dump 24 pounds of ice over your legs while you sit in a tepid shallow bathtub wearing a coat and hat probably isn't.

There would be no rest for the weary today or tonight. It was date night for my husband and me! Our big night out included a nice quiet romantic dinner followed by going to the theater to see CATS. From my kitchen table I write this and gaze out into my backyard at my happy active daughters playing in the backyard. I appreciate this quiet time off my feet as Steve naps with a vengeance in the room down the hall. Just who exactly defines normal anyway? Wherever my life lies along that continuum of normalcy, I'll take it. Wish me luck staying awake tonight!