A Special Snowy Run
This morning I might have just run the most fun run ever.
Okay, that New Years Eve run this year was a blast, and every run at Ragnar was exciting, and those perfect runs in the middle of the summer are awesome, but this one was an experience.
With my current maintenance-mode training, I’m doing one longer run per week, at around 10 miles, but absolutely no more (keeping it slow and steady for now). I emailed Jess to see if she wanted to join me for all or some of my Saturday longer run, and she said yes! Huzzah!
Friday night, I went to bed with a forecast of snow that was supposed to start sometime over night, and hoped to wake up with some flakes on the ground. Growing up in the Snowbelt has made me a lover of snow, so this winter has been particularly disappointing. Some people are afraid of snow and of what happens when a storm hits, but I get excited and embrace it! At least until it melts and turns New York into a brown slushy mess…
I woke up and saw both lots of snow on the ground and lots still falling! Hooray! I was so excited, threw my running clothes on, contemplated for a minute whether I wanted a neck gator or not, and ran out the door. The second I hit the street, I wish I had gotten that neck gator and had pulled out a pair of ski goggles. It was snowing harder than I had thought, and was blowing around, stinging my eyes and face. I could have turned around and gotten the gator, but just decided to suck it up and head to the park to find Jess.
Normally it takes me about 11-12 minutes to run from my apartment to Engineer’s Gate, but this morning it took me 18. I had to slow down significantly to keep from slipping, and had to dodge everyone else walking precariously on the sidewalk. I felt pretty badass, though, seeing everyone out getting their morning coffees, and I was headed to CP to run 10 miles in the snow.
Edited to add: Jess took a photo! So you can see exactly what the conditions were like. Quite a bit of snow out there.
I found Jess and we were both kind of stunned that the snow was as intense as it was, but were both totally game and really excited to get running. The Manhattan Half was “happening” (meaning it had been turned into a fun run because of the weather), so the roadway was pretty packed, considering the weather. We decided to hit the road clockwise, opposite of what the racers were doing, to run the inner 4-mile loop. Because it was still early, the road hadn’t been plowed, so the snow was still thick and uneven. It was hard to find a steady stride, but, my god, it was so fun. It was hard at some points because we were working harder to stay balanced, but never seemed too hard because of the environment, and because it was so different than regular running. I haven’t had a real true snow run in over a year, and I forgot much it takes so much mental power and uses different muscles to keep going. Yet, it didn’t seem harder at the time, just different, and so much fun.
There were a few times when the wind would pick up and would blow right into our eyes, or we would head up a hill and it would be especially slippery, and were using every muscle in our bodies to get to the top, but overall it was one of those rare runs that you never want to end. Given the correct attire, I literally could have stayed out there all day. I was totally in my element, doing what I love to do, with a friend, among like-minded people, having the time of my life. Towards the end of the run, we hit the 103rd st transverse, which the racers were not running, so it had been barely touched. When we turned off the main road onto the transverse, we both remarked by how incredibly beautiful it was. We were basically alone, and just took in the moment. Untouched white snow below us; snow still falling furiously from the sky.
Those four miles with Jess were over in a heartbeat (we were chatting up a storm the whole time), even though we took our sweet time, and I just wasn’t ready to leave. Jess headed home, and I hit the bridle path for a few more miles. This time, there was no slipperiness, but the path was thick with snow, and sometimes I would misjudge where I was planting my foot, and end up in 4 inches of powder. It’s a good thing I had my smartwools on! I slowed down even more for these miles, but just loved the quiet—there was barely anyone on the path except for a few people and their dogs, and I could hear every step and breath I was taking. Being there really did feel special, and it was one of those times when I was just totally head-over-heels in love with running.
Finally after two hours—that passed by quicker than any run I’ve taken ever—I realized that my legs were really tired, and headed home. I walked into my apartment soaking wet, and with glowing red cheeks, but with a giant smile, so happy that I had been able to experience that amazing run.
And the moral of the story: even if everyone is saying the weather is too iffy to go run, go do it. It will probably be one of your most favorite runs ever.
What’s on Tap for Spring
Well, more like “what’s on tap for the first half of 2012.”
I pretty much have a plan for what races I want to do this fall (but am keeping that on the hush hush for now), but have been trying to figure out what I want to do before fall training starts. It seems like everyone around me is planning on doing spring marathons, and gosh darn, I want to jump on that bandwagon too! Training is fun! Racing is fun! But, I have two obstacles.
The first is grad school. I’m a full-time grad student for at least the next year and a half, and I work part-time. I’m a busy girl, to say the least. And on top of that, my funds are as low as they can go. Therefore, travelling for something like a marathon isn’t really on my priority list, like rent, or food, or Con-Ed bills or coffee. Which means, as much was I really really really want to run the Eugene or Big Sur Marathons this spring, they’re just going to have to wait until I’m out of school and have a real job again.
There is a loophole to my personal out-of-state-racing-while-in-grad-school rule, though. The Cleveland Marathon is in the end of May, in my good ‘ol hometown. I could easily plan a spring trip home that coincides with the marathon, and I’m sure my parents would love to have me home, and be able to easily use their expert cheering skills again. (By the way, I would like to call everyone’s attention to this old post, with a picture of my dad from the late 70s running the Cleveland Marathon, where he is pretty much Steve Prefontaine’s doppelganger.) But, that brings me to my second obstacle of spring marathon-ing.
Remember when I got injured this fall? Oh, right. And remember when I said I was valuing rest? Oh, right. And if I want to run (and run smart and well) a fall marathon, I want to stay healthy and uninjured this spring. I need to very slowly build my endurance back up, and I think running any spring marathon would be pushing myself just too much. Therefore, I officially decided that there will be no spring marathon for me. Maybe if I stay injury-free this year, I’ll be able to do one next year (helloooo Cleveland!), but definitely not this year.
But I want to train too! Hearing about everyone’s training plans still makes me want to have a goal race to train for. But, Betsy…there are other races besides marathons to train for. Oh, right. It’s amazing how sometimes it seems like marathons are the only races there are…
So, I’ve decided to focus this spring season more on shorter races, work on speed, and have my “A” race be the Brooklyn Half Marathon in late May. My half PR is from that race when I ran it in 2009, when I ran 1:50:35. I have not run a half competitively since 2010, and know I have more speed in me. I have PR’d since then in every other race distance, and by significant amounts. I know I can slaughter that time, and I think if I train really smart and focus on speedwork, I can run a sub-1:45:00. And…oooo…I’m so excited.
I’m going to use the next two months or so to continue to build my base, and get and stay healthy. I’m going to slowly (very very slowly) work on my speed and endurance, and get my body back into fantastic shape. And then, two months before race day, really amp up the training, and really focus on speed and endurance, making my legs ready to kill that course come race day.
I’ve never really trained seriously for a half (except for my first half), especially focusing specifically on speed, so I’m really looking forward to this training season. And until next fall, I can just want my friends do awesome on their spring marathons. Who’s going to Boston this year to watch friends run? Me! Me! Me!
I’m coming for you, Prospect Park & Ocean Parkway & Coney Island…
On Disappointment
Whenever you finish a marathon, I think everyone assumes the first feelings they will feel is both pride and relief. Last year, when I crossed this finish line at the New York City Marathon, I felt sadness and disappointment. It took me almost a week to feel proud of my efforts, and still that is spotty.
November 6 was a tough day for me. My race was really bad, and I struggled throughout the entire thing. My legs felt tired pretty much out off the bat—not a good thing when you have 26 miles to run—and I only had one (one!) good mile, around mile 6, when I heard someone playing Empire State of Mind, and I felt a magical surge of adrenaline. Besides that, though, it was a true struggle of a race. I first saw my parents at mile 8, and between the start and seeing them, I truly considered dropping out when I reached them. How I kept going after that point, I don’t know, but I just made myself go. I was not happy, though. I was not having fun, and I was not enjoying myself.
My mom took this of me about to give a giant hug to my dad at mile 8. I was so happy to see them. Not happy with my race.
One thing that makes NYCM so special and different is the crowd support and energy you get from running through constant cheering. Last year, it was amazing, and I loved (almost) every minute. This year, however, I couldn’t enjoy the crowds and the people yelling my name. I was fighting an internal struggle to finish every single mile, and there was no excitement on the sidelines that was going to help me.
My apartment is on the course, right at mile 17, and I knew my amazing roommate would be there waiting for me, offering me a quick hug and a GU. The second I saw her face, coming up first avenue, I ran right over, and all but burst into tears. I was sad, and I had no desire to keep going. Poor thing had to listen to me talk through my emotions for five minutes, about how hard this was, how much I did not think I could finish, how I didn’t care if I finished or not. I finally kept going, but only because I knew my parents were waiting for me, and I didn’t want to let them down.
I saw another friend, Jeff, around 18.5, and my friend Hannah, at 23, and both times I was the same: fighting to hold back tears, struggling to take the steps to leave them and continue. I saw so many other friendly faces in the last few miles: my friend Talia right before the turn into the park, Jess at 24 (who later told me when she saw me she could tell I was struggling and wanted to jump out and give me a hug), my friend Amy at 24.5 (oh Amy…your face helped so much), and my parents again at 25. Those faces were the only thing that got me to the finish line. (as I’m writing this, I’m tearing up. This race evokes a lot of emotions).
And when crossing that finish line at Tavern on the Green finally happened, I cried. Not because I was happy I finished, or relieved I didn’t have to go any further or proud of my time. I cried because I was sad. I hadn’t run a good race. I hadn’t enjoyed myself or the race. I was pretty sure I had disappointed my parents.
Going into the race, I knew I was not going to have a physically strong race because of my injury and complete lack of running three weeks beforehand. Therefore, while waiting on Staten Island, I took Meggie’s sharpie and wrote on my right hand “Enjoy The Day.” If I wasn’t going to have a strong race, I at least wanted to have a fun one. When I crossed the finish line, I looked at my right hand and realized I had failed on my one other goal besides finishing. I was disappointed in myself for letting the physical struggle my body was fighting overtake everything else, and not allowing myself to have at least a little fun.
I was actually nervous to see my parents after I finished. They had made a special trip to watch me, and my dad had been especially excited. He’d run NYCM a few times in the 80s, and I grew up watching him run, and he’s a big part of the reason I run today. They were so proud of me, though, even after my less-than-stellar showing, and gave me big, sweaty hugs after. Even if I wasn’t proud of myself, they could be proud of me.
Me and my dad post-race. He's wearing his NYCM medal from 1982 that my mom brought along, which he ran when I was 6 weeks old. Happy on the outside. Disappointed on the inside.
When everything was said and done, and I was back at work and school the next day, I was still disappointed, still sad about my race. I had failed at PRing, I had failed at running a smart race, I had failed at enjoying the day. I had to deal with coworkers and classmates coming up to me the next few days, asking me how the race went (“it went fine.”) and what my time was (“it was fine.”) Everyone else was so proud of me, but I was not proud of myself.
And guess what? That is fine. The race was my race. My effort. My struggle. My disappointment. My sadness. It didn’t matter how many times someone told me to be proud of myself, and proud for finishing, it wasn’t going to change how I felt, and that’s okay. I don’t have to be proud of every effort I complete. A marathon is not a bucket list item for me. I’m not just finishing and calling it a day. Each one is different and have different emotions along with them. This one has a lot of disappointment attached to it, and that’s just how it’s going to be.
As runners, we do not have to be proud of every effort we put out there. To do that would be undermining a well-deserved PR or new running accomplishment—like a particularly hard race or new distance. If we were obligated to be nothing but proud after every race, then we wouldn’t want to put in hard training to get that next PR or run a smart race. With lifelong running comes a boatload of emotions, different ones for every race we run. If you didn’t have negative emotions associated with some races, then the ones with positive emotions wouldn’t feel so great. I have races that I am so incredibly proud of, but NYCM 2011 is not one of them. This is something that is hard to describe to non-runners, but I think as you fellow runners, you get it.
Until my next marathon that I feel proud of, I have my parents to be proud of me. And crossing the finish line at that next marathon will feel that much more incredible.
Running on Dirt is Nice
I’m back on the train on a Monday morning, headed home to NYC after spending some quality time with my sister, brother-in-law and nephew, who I just might be obsessed with. And I’m pretty sure he’s obsessed with me, considering he would call me “mommy” when my sister wasn’t in the room. A highlight for the weekend was going to baby (or is it now toddler?) gym class yesterday morning, which is pretty much the cutest thing in the world. A bunch of toddlers bouncing and dancing and tumbling and balance-beaming? Yes, please. My nephew pretty much excelled when he was instructed to run around the mat. Looks like someone is going to be taking after his favorite aunt.
Alex and his favorite Aunt. It's really hard to get a 17-month old to stay still for a photo booth picture. It's the best I could do.
Anyway, I had said that while I was visiting, I wanted to get out and take a run around the lake near my sister’s house. This is my goal during every single visit there, but plans get changed easily—babies can change anything—so it’s never a guarantee. This trip, however, I made it! I got my lake running in, and it was awesome.
Saturday morning, after a little snuggling with Alex, I headed out for an hour of running. When I stepped outside, I was amazed by how perfect the temperature was—absolutely ideal shorts-and-long-sleeved-shirt weather. And from the second I started running, it became the kind of runs that you never ever want to end.
I warmed up running the 1.5 miles from my sister’s house to the lake access road. The access road is completely hidden off of a bike path, along side the highway. The first time I found it was about two years ago, when I was doing a long run around all the bizarre paths along the highways. I was getting really sick of the endless drab scenery and speeding cars, when I noticed a fairly well-worn path into the woods to the right of me. Now, anyone in their right mind would have NOT headed into the woods in an area they were unfamiliar with, and in hindsight it was probably really dumb of me to follow the path. But I did, and luckily for me, after about 7 minutes of omg-where-am-I-crap-what-was-that-noise-I-hope-not-a-rapist-or-hunter, I hit a lake, and a path that went entirely around it. And a lot of other runners and walkers. On the other side of the lake is a parking lot, and most people drive to it, but I can’t, so I just keep using the kinda-creepy-but-actually-peaceful access road.
On this particular run, the moment my feet hit the dirt of the access road, I felt more peaceful and relaxed. I absolutely love trail running, and wish I had the ability to do it daily. But, while I live in NYC, my trail-running facilities are limited and it becomes even more special when I get to run when visiting my sister.
As usual, the access-road part of the run was solo, and still a little scary, but I got to the lake quickly enough. The lake is around 7 miles around, with small rolling hills and lots of friendly faces. This morning, because the weather was so incredible, there were many walkers and plenty of runners, including, what looked like, a race. About 1 out of every 5 runners had a race bib, so I assumed there was a race going on, but couldn’t really tell. Everyone, however, had big smiles on and was enjoying themselves running along the dirt, with a picturesque lake to one side, and forest to the other.
The lake! But taken last August. Cause there are obviously no leaves on the trees now. Pretty, right?
I would have loved to run the whole lake that morning, but I had a time in which I had to return home by to babysit, so I turned around after about 40 minutes of lake running. Not a lot, but enough to put a smile on my face, clear my lungs, and get a solid dose of beloved trail running in my system, enough to tide me over for a few weeks.
Path around the lake! Again, super awesome. And again, taken in August. Cause of the leaves.
That picture is giant. I apologize. Still working on my getting-back-to-blogging skills.
I could have stayed out there for hours, but was happy to come back to my sister’s and play with my nephew, becoming amazed at how much he has grown since he was first born a year and a half ago. All in all, a pretty perfect way to start out a lovely Saturday, and one of my last quiet ones before the spring semester starts (I’m not ready! Grad school…you’re exhausting).
Random Things On Friday: With a PSA at the End!
I’m on the train right now, riding from NYC to DC, to hang out with my older sister and her family for the weekend. I’m on winter break from school, and have a little bit of free time, and found a cheap ticket to take advantage of. My sister and family were with my brother-in-law’s family for Christmas, so we missed hanging out (meaning she missed me and my younger sister singing John Denver & The Muppets Christmas songs to her). I’m looking forward to a weekend of playing with my adorable toddler nephew, and being in the ‘burbs once again. And of course I have a run planned—my sister lives wonderfully close to a small lake, with a dirt path around it. Every time I visit them, I have lofty plans to run it, but too often my plans get thwarted (see the time I sliced my fingers open with a broken microwave plate) and I miss out on my opportunity. I’m determined, though, to hit the trails tomorrow morning. I’ll keep you posted. I know you’ll be waiting with bated breath if I ran or not. I would be.
Two other things (totally not running related) that I thought I would share
So I have this hand lotion.
I bought it several years ago, and it lives on my desk at work. My hands get horribly dry and cracked during the winter, and I am constantly lotioning my hands. This particular lotion, however, smells very strongly of Fruit Loops. Yes—the cereal. When I first bought it, I thought it smelled oddly familiar, and one day it occurred to me that it smelled exactly like Fruit Loops. It’s kind of uncanny. The smell, though, is so strong that I’m scared I’m offending people when I put it on. Would you be offended if someone in your office was frequently using lotion that smelled of a sickeningly sweet breakfast cereal of your youth? In other words, should I toss it, and stick to more natural scents, or embrace my Toucan Sam-endorsed hand lotion?
And my other thing.
Monday night, around 2:30AM, I woke up to a beeping in the hallway of my apartment. It wasn’t constant—just a loud beep every 20 seconds or so. I thought it was probably the smoke detector alerting us that it needed new batteries. I came out of my room, and noticed it wasn’t the smoke detector…but the carbon monoxide detector! Cue panic rising in my body. Carbon monoxide: the silent killer! I immediately threw open every window in the apartment, and woke up my roommate (although she had started to wake up on her own from that annoying beeping). We couldn’t tell, however, if it was just malfunctioning, or was actually detecting CO, because the beeping wasn’t constant, still around every 20 seconds. We changed the batteries (reaching via text books on a step ladder—thanks grad school!): still beeping. We re-set the detector: still beeping. Throughout all of this, I was freaking the eff out. I was pretty sure we were slowly dying. We eventually decided we had to call 911, and had the fire department come to check it out. Two very attractive firemen came (helloooo, firemen. These are my pajamas. They are not cute. Nor am I at 3AM), and we told them what happened, and they pulled off the detector, looked at the back, and told us it had expired. There was no CO leak. We were just fine. And they told us this like we were really stupid and should have figured this out by ourselves. WTF firemen! First of all, who knew a CO detector has an expiration date. Second of all, we could barely reach it to change the batteries, let alone take it off the ceiling. And third, wouldn’t you prefer us being overly cautious when it comes to a CO leak, instead of just ignoring it? We felt kind of embarrassed, but also really responsible, which the firemen should have thought too. Whatever. Would you have done the same? You should…cause carbon monoxide is crazy scary! The take-home and PSA: Check your carbon monoxide detectors today, to make sure they are not expired, and write down when they do expire. Therefore you won’t die or look like an idiot to your local firemen.
And that’s the end of this really random post. Happy Friday!
My Jump from Summer to Winter Running
In my previous post, I said I went on an official running break after the New York City Marathon, which was November 6. The unofficial start to that break, however, was much earlier. I started feeling twinges of injury in mid-September (on my birthday, no less), and proceeded to do all I could do to prevent the injury from becoming severe while maintaining enough fitness to finish the marathon. Therefore, between September 17 and November 6, my running was down to a bare minimum. In the seven weeks during that period, I probably ran a total of six times, and that might be pushing it. In fact, I didn’t run once between my last long run three weeks pre-marathon, and marathon Sunday—I did a not-recommended Super Taper (hiiiiii Meggie).
Anyway…what am I getting to?
Oh, right. The fact that I ran no more than 10 times between September 17 and this week. That is not a lot. Nope. I basically missed out on the best time of year to run. Autumn. Perfect temps. No humidity. Crunchy leaves to run over. Lovely autumn colors. I pretty much missed it all. My favorite running outfit is a long-sleeved shirt and shorts, ideal for the crisp autumn running days. But I pretty much time-traveled and missed that perfect time period. I jumped from tank tops and shorts (when you’re already sweating before you start running) to running tights and 3+ layers on top. I should plan on getting injured during winter next time…
So I went running this morning. Wearing tights for the first time of the season. Holy smokes, it was cold.
Hi running tights. And cold ankles.
Also, it was my first time back on the bridle path. Ohhhh, bridle path. The love of my life. I haven’t run on my beloved bridle path in Central Park since early September. It is easily my favorite place to run in NYC, and I missed it so much. It looks quite different than it did the last time—bare trees, ice patches, barely anyone running—but it still feels awesome. Even in my running tights and two pairs of gloves and ear warmers.
So I missed long-sleeved-shirt-and-shorts weather. Whatever. And now it’s omg-I-can’t-stop-running-or-my-legs-will-freeze-off weather. But, that’s the awesome thing about being a lifelong runner. I’ll be an autumn runner next year. And counting down the days until then. I suffer though it, but I do not like winter running.
Winter running is better than no running, though, and beggars can’t be choosers. Off to find the rest of my running tights. And gloves. And hats. And under armor. And smartwool socks.
On Rest
It’s been a while, but I don’t care. This blog is pretty much just for me, but others can read it too.
Since we last spoke (ha), I ran a shitty marathon. I ran the New York City Marathon this year, and had a horrible race, due to an injury that showed up two months pre-race, which lead to me being completely undertrained. Fast forward to race day, which was a bad one. The only good thing about that day was that my parents were in town to watch, and I got to see them twice along the course, which was one of the only things that kept my spirits above clinically-depressing levels.
I still don’t know my official time. And I don’t ever want to know.
The second I crossed that finish line, I put myself on a mandatory rest from running. My goal was to take a solid two-month break—no running whatsoever. I needed my body to heal from the stress I put on it in the previous few months. Because I want to be a lifelong runner. And being a lifelong runner requires a little rest & relaxation.
I just came back from pancakes with possibly-my-running-solemate Susan (yeah—I spelled solemate that way on purpose), and I talked about rest. We are not runners who want to run one marathon, call it a day and hang up our Ravennas for something else. We are not runners who run because we feel like we should, or from pressure from others. We run because we love it, and it affects our lives in an incredibly positive manner. It makes us better people. And to maintain that, we’re allowing our bodies to run throughout our lives, with periods of rest when our legs (and hearts) require it. We rest because we know there is always more running in the future.
Because running is such an important part of my life, a two-month rest could have had disastrous results, saddening me and leaving a void (as it has in the past). But, while preparing for NYCM this fall, knowing my injury was leading me to a prolonged rest period, I made the connection that in order to be a lifelong runner, this was necessary and was par for the course. Rest is part of being a runner. Part of being a good runner. Part of being a smart runner.
I just finished 2011 running. It was not two months of rest, but close enough. I ran the Bridgerunners NYE Flash Run through downtown Manhattan and Brooklyn. Bridgerunners is a group I’ve run with a few times before, and is quite unorthodox compared to other running groups and clubs in NYC, but effortlessly the coolest. I ran the entire thing with a giant grin plastered on my face, with my running bestie Megan, and a bunch of people I’d never met. My legs felt like they could have run 50 miles without fatigue, and my heart swelled to hold levels of happiness I haven’t felt in a very long time. It was one of my favorite nights of my life. And why? Because I had allowed my legs to rest. And ran when I was ready.
And now, 2012…my legs are ready. Let’s run.
Now that's a happy runner
But I don’t want to drip blood all over the treadmill!
More running obstacles? Ugh.
This past weekend I was in Virginia, playing with my older sister and nephew. I was hoping to get a few runs in, as my sister lives in an area with lots of trails, and is about 2 miles from a fantastic dirt path that circumvents a lake. Whenever I’m down there, I always look forward to doing that run. That’s going to have to wait until August when I’m there again, because that did not happen. Did you know chasing a 11-month old is exhausting? Oh, boy. That, along with the fact that I was coming down with something fierce, made my energy and motivation levels needed to run basically zilch.
That face makes my heart melt
Sunday morning we were going to baby gym class (omg…so cute) and had to leave the house at 9am. I wanted to get a long-ish run in before, but woke up completely beat. I decided to push back my run to after lunch, when Alex was having his afternoon nap (don’t worry—my sister was home; I wouldn’t have left him home alone). By the time that rolled around, I was still feeling exhausted, but decided to push myself out the door and stay out for at least an hour. Walking, running, whatever. Just some outside activity for an hour. I brought my ipod with me, which I haven’t done for over a year (I became a music-free runner May 2010 and haven’t looked back since), to keep my interest. I had Bossypants via Audiobook which kept me giggling the entire way. I stayed out the entire hour and did a pretty even mix of running and walking. It was painful, and probably my worst run in very very long time, but that little something was better than nothing.
Monday I had Alex all to myself while my sister was at work. Because I couldn’t do a run outside (not leaving the baby at home alone…duh), I resorted to my sister’s treadmill in the basement. I do not like treadmills in the slightest, and can’t remember for the life of me when the last time I used one was, but that was my only option. I wanted to do a nice, easy 5 miler during his morning or afternoon nap. However, my plans were abandoned pretty quickly. During nap #1, I was finishing up the breakfast dishes and had to clean the microwave plate. Someone (me) decided to have oatmeal for breakfast and that oatmeal overflowed in the microwave. During cleaning I dropped the slippery plate in the sink and it broke. Glass was everywhere, like in my fingers. So, blood was everywhere too. My initial thought was that I would have to go to the emergency room to get stitches. But I would have to take my sleeping nephew, and somehow drive to the nearest hospital in a town I was not very familiar with. In order to avoid that, I tried my best to patch myself up and stop the bleeding enough to pick up an 11-month old without bleeding all over him. After a solid 30 minutes of pressure on my fingers with them over my head, I was able to put some bandaids on (first of 5 for the day), and go about cleaning up the kitchen of glass: a place that Alex is encouraged to crawl around while I’m fixing food to keep an eye on him. By the way, Alex, thanks for staying asleep for the full two hours. And no sooner that I vacuumed up the last glass shard that I heard a sniffle and a cry from upstairs. My throbbing, pulsating hand put a stop to any dreams of running that afternoon, and the fact that every time I would pick up Alex my cuts would start bleeding again (cuts are on my left hand, which is my dominant hand/arm) just confirmed that. I don’t think swinging my arms back and forth while my blood is pumping hard, on the treadmill would do any favors in my avoiding the emergency room that day. But that’s okay, because running on Monday was the least of my worries. I just wanted a happy nephew who wasn’t eating or crawling on any glass. Yikes.
See my bulging fingers? My bandaids were crazy tight to keep the bleeding stopped. Baby feet!
So this weekend was a crappy weekend for my running. But, I’m off to a good start for the week with a great run last night, another planned for tonight and the PRIDE RACE this Saturday! One of my favorites…which I say for everything. But, it is.
Thanks, mother nature…
I’ve been trying, unsuccessfully, for the past few months to get back into running bright and early, before work. That means up at 4:45 and out the door by 5, 5:15. Sounds early, and it is, but I’m a morning person by nature, and used to have a stellar record of waking up and running before work. Nowadays, I set three alarms, and turn them all off as soon as they go off, killing any and all plans to workout pre-work. I really want to make this happen, though, and make early morning runs a routine, especially right now when it’s light out at that time. Running before work frees up my evenings so I can be social, and are also generally more successful because often by evening, my stomach can be a little too off to have a good run.
So, last night I went to bed with the intentions of waking up and running first thing. I set out my clothes, set my three alarms, and was in bed nice and early, ready for a sunrise run.
My alarm goes off at 4:45 and miraculously I’m up. I sit up in bed, about to turn on my light, and my room is suddenly illuminated with a massive flash of lightning. And then a roar of thunder. I knew it was raining, and would have had no problem running in the rain. A thunder storm, though, and I’m staying inside. Running in a park filled with tall trees, just begging to be struck by lightning? No, thank you. Back to bed for another hour of sleep I went.
The thing is, though, for the first time in about a year, I was totally ready to run when my alarm went off. I was awake and ready to hit the streets. And that one morning when I actually had the motivation, mother nature has other plans. The nerve.
So now the plan is to run after work, which I didn’t want to do in the first place. Can that motivation last throughout the day and get me in my running shoes tonight? We’ll just have to wait and see. Please no thunder storms this evening, mother nature, k?
Mini Race Report
Race report is not so mini. But it’s for the mini. The length of this is ridiculous. I apologize in advance.
So, obviously I have motivation issues when it comes to blogging. Thankfully, that doesn’t apply to running at the moment, just blogging. But, I’m done with my classes until fall, and I’m only working three days a week. That is leaving one bored-out-of-my-mind chica. Therefore, might as well try this again. I’m not giving you any promises though.
I’m jumping on the bandwagon and adding another Mini race report! Like many of my fellow “bloggers” (I’m using quotes, because I barely count as a blogger), I was out and about this past Saturday morning for one of my favorite races of the year: The Mini 10k. Now, my running bestie Megan says that I always say “this is one of my favorite races!” about every single race. And I do say that, but because I really only run my favorite races in New York. I’ve been racing in NYC for about 5 years now and don’t need to run every race I come across, like I felt like I did in the beginning (I would love to race more, but they’re not free!). Therefore, I pick and choose, and the Mini is ALWAYS chosen.
This race is always special for me, but this year it was especially so. Road Runners dedicated it to the late Grete Waitz who passed away this past April. I cried when I heard she had died, and I teared up in the corral Saturday when they were talking about her legacy. She helped women’s running become a popular, accepted sport, and was second to Joan Benoit Samuelson in the first Olympic women’s marathon in 1984. She won several New York City Marathons as well as many Mini’s. She was a friend to NYC running and NYRR—anyone who has seen the video of her running the NYC Marathon with Fred Lebow in 1992 can’t not cry seeing their friendship. I’d met her a few times, and each of those times I was basically in awe and totally speechless. If it wasn’t for Grete, women’s long distance running might be a lot different today. Grete was my idol and hero, and I miss her presence in the running community. Therefore, there was nothing that would have held me back from running that race.
Like a bachelorette party the night before…
I woke up Saturday morning after very hours of sleep and a bit of a hangover. And the sound of rain outside my window. I was hoping coffee and breakfast would help, and I was able to drink a giant cup and a few Puffins before meeting Susan and Megan, and Susan’s friend Christine down the street. No one was in a good mood that morning (lots of talk about how 10k’s are the WORST DISTANCE EVER), and the air was soupy, to say the least. My phone said 100% humidity. Ohhhhhh lordy. We walked to bag check, and the negative talked continued. I found some team members and tried to stay positive, but it was not happening. I was feeling less than stellar. I had a headache and my stomach felt really off. I ate a banana to quell those, and headed to the start with Susan. I wanted to get there early enough to do a mile warm-up, but my little jog to the start with Susan was all I got: better than nothing.
This race is unique for a Central Park race in that is starts at the bottom of Central Park West and continues outside the park for the first mile or so, up CPW. It enters the park at West 90th and runs counter-clockwise all the way to the top, and back down, ended at Tavern on the Green, i.e. the Marathon finish line. This race is also unique in that it is a $$$ race and attracts quite a field. Deena Kastor was using it as her debut-after-having-a-baby race, and Edna Kiplagat, last years NYC Marathon winner, was running. Also, because it’s women only, I get to be in the first corral! This is the only race of the year I get a blue bib, and I’m not going to lie, it makes it a little more special.
Susan and I hung out in the corral and listened to speeches by Mary Wittenberg (who was running it with Grete’s husband, the first male ever to run the Mini), Katherine Switzer (google her and be amazed), and Deena Kastor. After the national anthem and our race instructions by good old Peter Ciaccia (anyone else love Ciaccia! His voice, to me, is the sound of a race about to start!), we were off!
My race goals: not to puke. Because it was humid as hell and I had a hangover, I was giving myself the pass to just enjoy the race and not kill myself. That went out the window the second I did my first mile in 7:15. Whoops. That first mile is always so flat and I get caught up in the crazy speedy ladies around me. I couldn’t keep that pace for the rest of the race, not surprisingly as that is closer to my 5k pace than 10k. Mile 2 had the first incline and thus the feeling I would feel for the rest of the race: pukey. I don’t know if it was the humidity, pushing too hard the first mile, or the fact that I had a hangover, but I have never felt as nauseous during a race as I had Saturday. During and right after every single incline, no matter the size, I was sure I was going to puke right then and there. And, if you’ve ever run in Central Park, you’d know that those inclines happen very often. If we put aside the pukey feeling (want me to stop using that word), then Mile 2 felt okay and Miles 3 and 4 sucked a lot. Who remembers that the pre-Harlem Hill hill on the west side was so bad??!! Ugh…that hurt. And I was about 99% sure I was actually going to puke during actual Harlem Hill. I didn’t, in the end though. Once I passed the middle third of the race, though, things seemed to be going a bit better. The guys on my team set up a cheering spot at Engineer’s Gate, and it was great to see them and hearing them shout my name pushed me through this hell. I knew I could somehow push through those final two miles, even though I thought my legs were going to fall off. And somehow, miles 5 and 6 passed fairly quickly, and next thing I know I’m running up that final incline by Tavern on the Green to the finish. And then I almost passed out. I’ve felt spent after I’ve run races before, but never like I was about to pass out. I made some faces (thanks for catching those, Brightroom), held onto the fence, and shook it off. I found Megan and Susan and we all talked about…how much that SUCKED. But…what’ya know. I PR’d.
48:49 with a pace of 7:52.
So maybe my constant pukey feeling was just me pushing myself. Let’s remember that, k? Racing is hard. It shouldn’t feel like a regular training run. Sign up for a race…push your little butt off. And it never feels good. And that’s when you know you’re doing it right. 10k’s are still the worst distance ever, and let’s just avoid doing them. Except when they’re for Grete. Always run for Grete.
(thanks for the image, Susan…)
