Downfalls of attempted organization

Training schedules are constantly evolving for me. In fact, I just read today in Running Times that they have a new training plan personalization feature. I'm going to check it out this week. My current training schedule (Hal Higdon) has me at four days a week. I picked this one initially because it focuses more on the mileage and less on speed work. (I love speed work. I've been told of injury risk and experienced  it once post session though. I really think I go too fast for my true abilities.) Anyhow, the point is, I don't stick to schedules well. The reasons vary day-to-day.

I usually run alone and I love running alone, but once every week or two, it's nice to have company. I was talking with one of my running partners last week about this, we were discussing how the opportunity can often disrupt a training schedule. He was rearranging for travel and I was rearranging for him. But... it's a fun opportunity. How does one not take it? Running in company has nice benefits. In a long run, it makes me go slower. I often chat during these long runs and when you can barely control your breathing, talking doesn't work so well.

I seem to hurt a lot. Injury hurt, or verge of injury hurt. (See: I'd rather be running) So I take a few days and cross-train. Then my schedule is completely thrown. I've been training through two pains for the last 5 months, but I am able to keep training with them if I do it right.

I run enthusiastically because I love it. If I am feeling good, I am going to go run 8 miles. If I feel good the next day, I will do the same. By the third day, I have realized this may be detrimental, and cut it down to a five-miler. Fourth day, I cannot walk comfortably and I have to take off 5 days. Ugh. Seems like I could go for some self-control. Yeah, well I have gotten better. That's why I finally tried to start sticking to my training schedule - which is how this whole post started. I found a good quote for this. "I prefer the folly of enthusiasm to the indifference of wisdom." - Anatole France

Another issue I have experienced is that I am not good at rearranging the week for races or schedule switch-ups. Races get me the most. They're always on long run day, and long run always gets sacrificed. So, I tack on a few miles to some other runs during the week. (The wrong thing to do, I know.)

I think this topic has come to be important to me because I am attempting to train for a marathon in early September. I don't feel I will be properly trained unless I follow the schedule. I am getting nervous about signing up for the full and am now considering the half. (But I'd love to do the full!)

I'll figure it all out. But for now... off for a run .. Ahhhhh.

I'd rather be running. Always.

Cross-training. Ugh. Kind of. Or, do I like it?

I'll start with the "ugh". As I have said before, I'd rather be running. It's free, it's happy, it's hard. It makes you sweat - and you can tell. (Unlike swimming.) I like going past people when I am running. I feel strong and powerful. I am proud of myself. When I am biking and I pass a runner, my soul wants to scream out to them, "I'm actually a runner!!! I'm just biking because I have to! I'm like you!!!". It feels kind of sad. I just want to throw down the bike and run in my Velcro clip-in shoes, just to get to run. I think the worst is hiking though. I very purposefully pull out the non-back-strap-Chaco's so that if I do get the urge to run, (or attempt to succumb to it) it isn't long before I remember the decision of these shoes was to keep me walking. Then, I hopefully don't use them as hand weights and run barefoot - but at least when I do, this slows my pace, since my feet are not yet tough enough to run at a decent pace. I remember last year when I was deep in the snake-phobia, I would be too scared to run. I would be walking painfully slow, anxiety-ridden, and tiptoeing. How I first got myself to run again was to bully myself into it. "If you're walking you're just a hiker! You're not a runner!" We can be so kind to ourselves. I identify with running, it's who I am.

Now to address the "kind of". One must see the advantages - otherwise there wouldn't really be an issue. [It's like a moo point, a cow's opinion. No one really cares. It's "moo". Thanks "Friends"] It takes away the impact. It switches up which muscle groups are used to make one a more well-rounded athlete. It gives the greatly-used running muscles, tendons, ligaments and joints a nice break. Cycling especially strengthens the knees. I'm not sure of all the advantages, but I can imagine they are innumerable. The bad side of "kind of" - at me least for me - is this: I have cardiovascular endurance that far outlasts the strength of my running bones, muscles, tendons etc. I could run on and on and on, but a pain always appears in the weaker parts of my running form. I believe this is a lot of why I get myself into trouble - in the form of an on-the-verge injury. I could easily keep going, if it didn't hurt! I feel I sit on this injury fence. I have thankfully learned to listen to my body (more) and will take a few days off and only cross-train, when I feel I am pushing over to the other side. Which unfortunately perpetuates this cycle, and fortunately keeps me fit. (Please note: This should be a link to the entry on why I can't stick to running schedules - the one I've been trying to write for a week.)

Finally, "Do I like it?". Hmmm. I think I do, but I say that hesitantly. (Please refer to "ugh") I do because I am not sitting inside somewhere. I do because I love to be active. It makes me stronger. It increases my confidence, especially swimming, because I know how - it's something I am good at. I am not a great mountain biker, but I'm getting better. I can do this on trails. I am outside! When I integrate other activities, I can be active every day. I am actually becoming a faster runner (somehow) on around 20 miles per week. Once up to 35, occasionally down to 8. I am a very inconsistent runner, because I love it so much, when I don't hurt, I do as much as I can... and therefore cause myself to hurt. But that's another topic.

Therein ends my spiel on cross-training. Mixed feelings, but like it or not, (sometimes both) it gets done. Thank God for my bike. Thank God for my goggles. Thank God for my legs.

What, may I ask, are you running from?

I don't know if I am alone here... I can't imagine that I am. I love to run trails. I would rather be running than doing anything else.

I usually run alone. I enjoy it. I can go the pace I want to go. I can go the distance I want to go. I can push myself too hard and complain later - and the only one to blame is myself. (Similar to living alone and leaving a pan in the sink, to be crustily found the next morning.) Usually at the beginning of each run, I have a talk with the Universe. I request to receive what the Universe believes I need. I request the unknown.

 

Sometimes I obtain peace, sometimes insight. Other times it is strength or power. I almost always obtain confidence. Sometimes it is a slew of memories, with the hope they are returning for me to be able to release them. I obtain tranquility. I obtain endurance. Sometimes it's anger, oftentimes it is fear. And sometimes, I just attempt to balance my budget.

Why would one run, if it oftentimes brings fear?

My runs that are flanked with fear, that leave me anxious and unnerved serve a purpose too. The Universe has its ways. I fear "scary wildlife and scary people", lightning, new injuries and whispers from injuries attempting arduously to heal. First of all, these runs, if continued on for enough miles, afford me the exhaustion to stop obsessing about the wildlife I think is at every corner. This is quite possibly the most enjoyable of the runs for me - once I reach this stage. Finally my mind just gives up - it can't afford the glucose of worry. I love running exhausted - for me, it is the absolute feeling of freedom. My friend Alex works closely to individuals who suffer with OCD. He explained to me once, that a way of desensitization, is to repeatedly do the thing that annoys the hell out of them, so sooner or later, their mind stops keeping count. I basically desensitize my fear with miles of exhaustion. I feel the more fear I experience while doing something I love, the more I love the lessons fear affords, and the less fear encroaches on my everyday life.

When some find out running has our hearts, they jovially ask us what we are running from. Myself, I laugh and speak of my love of the task. I get frustrated at their question. Why must all runners have skeletons in their closet? Maybe not all do. However, when I really think about their question, my answer may include a variety of answers in any given minute.

Well, since you ask, I run from incorrect grammar, heart disease, life patterns, diabetes, carbonated beverages, failure, bears, fear, perfectionism, bad jokes, shyness, dementia, laziness, anxiety, my love of puns, substances, weakness, cancer, being ordinary, snakes, memories, close-talkers, grouse, obesity, 90-degree angles, anger, darkness, tears, race shirts that are too large and a million other things. Basically, I guess I run from being human - a perfect human. 

Before the love captured me: the backstory

I started a post about why it's hard to stick to training schedules, (shin splints, joints not used to impact) and ended up with a lot more about my sport history, so, here it is...

I grew up swimming. This is what we did. Year-round. From the time I was 8 until 18. This sport is not conducive to bone strengthening.

Freshman year of high school, I ran track. (I remember my track coach told me I had legs like a colt - my knees were too big for the diameter of my legs - thanks - how inspiring.) My legs are laughable at 28 - imagine at 14. I wasn't particularly fast. I remember my fastest mile was 6:50, followed by my first asthma attack. I also remember the day I ran...... F I V E miles. I was waiting for my mom to pick me up from school, so I just kept going. I remember still the feeling of accomplishment. I remember when I saw her pull up in the grey blazer, I couldn't wait to tell her how far I had gone. (I should have known then!) Anyways, this being my first sport of impact, I got horrible shin splints. They stayed with me the whole season.

I unsuccessfully tried soccer my senior year. (It was a nightmare - team sports are not my thing. I just remember running up and down the field near the sides to look like I was doing something. I was breathing hard and getting a cardiovascular workout, but the benefit was only my own.) I do not recall having shin splints at this time. I did swim throughout high school, however.

Spring semester, freshman year of college, I was on the Crew Club Team. I was too vertically challenged to be on the Lady Vols, plus, I was slow and not too powerful. In rowing, one uses their body weight to have power. I was at a disadvantage. This did have me doing coxswain here and there though. The light ones are good for that. Anyways, no bone strengthening here really either. No impact. We would run now and then around the boathouse. I always enjoyed it for two reasons: The first day I joined, I beat all the other girls. I was told that one of the girls was fast and to just stop when she stopped (I think 7 laps was a mile, it got confusing). Well, I passed her and made a great first impression on my coach. Secondly, I loooooved running in the dark morning with a group of girls. We had to be there at 5am. I remember one morning one girl didn't show up, so we had to run from the boathouse, across the Henley St. Bridge and over to campus to get her, then run back. I had an absolute blast. (It was probably about 5 miles.) I think I spent 2 semesters rowing - therein ended that excursion. (Spring 2001-2002)

Summer 2004 was my first true experiment with running. You know, the self-motivated, this-is-my-inspired-adult-life kind of running. I actually had a great time doing it. I remember 3 weeks in, I told myself that if I was still running, I could get a "real pair" of running shoes. (I had heard that 21 days makes a habit.) I had driven by the running store time and time again. Ooh, the Runner's Market...  so intriguing. I went in with quite a running enthusiasm. I assume this is why they took the shoe size I gave them as true. Looking back, going home with a pair of size 7's should not have happened. (I currently wear an 8 running shoe.) But hey, I didn't know better. I just knew I was proud for picking the uglier pair because they were more comfortable.

I would get kind of dizzy at times, so I checked my pulse and discussed it with student health. It seemed to be over 200 - well over 200. They told me to get a heart rate monitor and walk once it got to 200. Turns out it would get in the 220's pretty often. I don't know how far I would go. I remember one day - one hot day - I outran my friend's dog. He got hot and tired so I ran him back to his house and I kept running. I'd guess in the arena of 6 miles that day. Most days were probably 2-4. (Side note: I also smoked cigarettes at this time. Ahh, college.)

7/3/04: I decided to do the Fireball 5k with my friend Leslie. It was a late evening run, ended with 4th of July fireworks. It was an out-and-back along the river. I don't remember much about the race, except that I ran with Leslie. I was in no hurry. I didn't push myself. I just ran. I do remember the kick at the end though. I was relaxed and rested - saw the finish line so I picked it up considerably. It felt good. (I can't imagine how I looked sprinting at the end of a 32:11 5k.)

I had started a new job at Children's Hospital ER, where apparently a number of the staff were "runners". Hey, I ran a 5k - maybe I can be a "runner" too. I remember one day some of the nurses were talking - they were going to do a race. Hmmm, that would be fun! But... what? How far? A 10k??? I told them I had never run that far, but they convinced me to come anyways. So I did.

7/14/04: The Carter Mill Classic in Strawberry Plains. I arrived with a group of three other runners. It was cool and foggy when we got there. I had maybe 5% of the competitiveness I have now. I jogged along - it was BEAUTIFUL. It was an out-and-back on an old country road, lined with farms and fences. The first half at least was cool and foggy. I walked with one of the group members, Shannon, for a little bit - to show her support. I knew I could keep running though, so I excused myself, wished her a great run and saw her at the finish line. I remember coming down the last stretch. I could barely see the clock. Was I going to break one hour? Along the side, was Gary - one of the nurses cheering me in. It felt great!!! I came off with a 59:18. Somehow, I got third in my age group! I got a sport towel with a logo. Some prizes are better than others. Now, I would love to say that this race had me hooked. Sadly, although I still remember the experience like it was yesterday, it did not keep me.

My running life dwindled to nothing by October. I didn't understand why one would run in the winter and wasn't going to try. That was the end of it. Or so I thought. :)

Run on the Wildside

Well, after my experience with the Riverbound 10k, I did not have high hopes. I decided to relax, take my time, and enjoy a run on my own stomping ground. I went out relaxed and fairly slow. I know it took me about 1.5 miles to have to breathe with my mouth open. (This is one way I have learned to judge my efforts.) I felt great. I noticed how hard the people around me were breathing. I noticed how effortlessly I was breathing. My confidence increased.

Once we left the front of the Arboretum and went down the wide fire-road, we come up to Owl Ridge. I have a love of this section. It is flanked with pine trees and is part of the start of Shut-In. It gets pretty hilly here, which I thrive on. I powered by a few people here, without overdoing it. I still felt strong. I knew at the end of Owl Ridge, we took a left and had a nice downhill for at least a mile. I pushed hard to the end of this section. With one female I passed near then end, I shared the upcoming downhill, as a sort of apology to the passing. I don't know why I feel the need, but I do at times.

I kept pushing at a moderate/hard level. We got to the bottom of the hill and it turned to well-groomed, winding single-track. I had just passed a guy, and it had taken me a while to do on that downhill. Normally, I would be sure to give him space to pass if he wanted, however today, I decided to "run my own race". If he wanted to pass, he'd have to do it himself. I was not moving over for anyone for some reason. We ended up back on the wide fire-road, where I caught the next person. I could feel myself gaining strength with each passing. It was the exact opposite of Riverbound 10k. I felt like I was becoming mentally stronger, I felt badly passing people, but it felt good at the same time.

The last stretch was on pavement - I had three more people I wanted to get by. The girl was struggling, and one guy was waiting on her, so I knew those two would happen. I wanted to slow down. It was hot and sunny, but I knew the end was near. I pushed to the finish, with one guy a few seconds ahead of me. I didn't mind. I had given my all.

The race ended up being not an 8k, but 5.32 miles from my Garmin and up to 5.4 on others garmins. I wanted to break 40:00, and I would have if the course was accurate, so I was pleased. Garmin link: Run on the Wildside 8k I got 41:47. I ended up 3rd place female overall, 1st in my age group. 10th Overall out of almost 200. It felt great. I needed this race as a confidence booster to offset the last one. My mom was there for support and encouragement. It was a fabulous race on a beautiful course.

 

Riverbound Race Series 10k

I had done well with the 5k. It was a small race - first in a new series. For the 10k, I mistakenly expected the same. Talking with my friend Christina, (who I had first met at the 5k) I was convinced to start out fast. (Take note, she is a much stronger and faster runner than me.)

There is about 0.3 miles to get your spot before it turns into the tight single-track. I wanted my spot near the front. As it happens, I went out too fast. Completely too fast. Two miles in, I was ready to give up - walk - and not quickly. People began passing me about mile 3. It was hot, it was humid, it was miserable. I had never encountered such negative self-talk in the two years of my running life. I know at one point, I had decided to give up running completely. I asked myself why I chose (and paid) to do this to myself. There was one huge hill in the middle - I am good at hills, usually they are my strongest part. I kept my spot on the hill, but as it leveled out that was the end of it. As people passed me - girls especially - I felt myself become mentally defeated, time and time again. I did end up walking quite a bit - maybe 0.5 miles total. I was so happy to see that finish line.

I found Christina after the race, and she did make me feel better. Apparently the same negative head-space was occupying her too. It wasn't just me! Ahh! It's a bad run! They happen! I'm okay - I will still be able to be a runner!

Ended up fourth in my age group, 11/83 female overall. Disappointed with the outcome. I know I'll may never win, but trails are my love - just expected more. But I did come out with the knowledge that bad races will make you want to quit. I had heard but not experienced this before. Thankfully I am back to running - just took an hour mental break from it. Much needed mental break.

 

Here is my garmin link to the race:

Riverbound Race Series 10k