Running In Place

Initially my plan was to lament. Lament the heat, lament the difficulty I have had pacing myself in the last few runs, and then lament some more about the heat. But, damn, when a you get sucked in by just a genuinely Good Day you end up getting all distracted by beauty and totally lose your concentration. I know I had alot of real specific compaints earlier but right now I just can’t remember them. Love that.

Ok, ok, I remember some of it:

I remember thinking that I needed to apologize to my brother who lives in Jacksonville, FL for all the times I make fun of him for griping about the cold when it’s 56F down there and he’s weeping that it’s sooooo cold, because for my past 2 runs it has been low to mid 70’s here (with a breeze even) and I have been DYING FROM THE HEAT! I am imagining that he, and all readers living south of Manhattan, are now snickering at me and chalking it up to some twisted karma-payback thing. Ultimately, I am a cold weather girl at heart who often dreams of living in Alaska (seriously) or maybe Michigan or Alberta Anyway, this week has been a wake up call to me, resulting in the creating of all kinds of the premature worrisome obsessing that I specialize in. I think to myself, as I gasp and sweat and trudge as though it was 108 degrees, how will I run a 15K in July if I am dying at 4 miles in May?!! But - because it is a Good Day - I know that it is early, and that I can prepare for the hot weather just like I did for the cold, and that I will acclimate, and that the heat is just one more challenge to be met.

I remember that I was grousing to myself about pacing and how I was spending myself too soon but I think alot of the difficulty is my perception of my effort in relation to the HELLISH heat. I am getting faster overall - I’m pulling my miles from 12:00 to more about 11:00 pretty quickly and I am even falling into the 10:30’s many times without a killer effort. So, ok, I’m not going to kick myself if my outcome isn’t all consistent. It’s always about smoothing out the wrinkles, right?

Ultimately, despite my moans and groans about the weather, today was a beautiful day. I went out for a run on my canal towpath and finished up feeling spent and weary, even though it was a short one. I came upon the lock at just the time when 2 pleasure crafts were being shuttled through. I don’t know if it is elsewhere, but this process of raising or lowering a boat 16 or so feet, from one water level to another, is a big deal around here. My mother used to bring my friends and me to the lock for picnic lunches in the hopes of seeing boats pass through. Today, as I did my stretching against a big ol’ oak tree, I had an opportunity to watch some boats come and go - and watch all the picnicers and picture takers too. There was a blessed crowd there - even some tourists from Ohio (you people have a super-cool river, what do you want with the Barge Canal??) I guess there’s really not much excitement around here.

When I got home there were 2 young Tom Turkeys in the yard, which was nice to see because I know that there will be a harem of gals and a mess of offsping to follow. Then I sat on the porch and gave a proper hello to the hummingbirds, who had arrived right on time - on Mother’s Day. It’s good to see all my old friends coming around - the blue jays, the cowbirds, the red-winged blackbirds, the chickadees and yellow finches, and the woodpeckers (even the stud who insists on pecking my TV antenna all the time). I’m also going to mention the mourning doves even though my husband insists they’re really just pigeons. The upshot is that, as I sat on my porch and watched all of the avian activity, noticed all the new green and the baby apple blossoms, as the wind chimes tinkled, and the dogs snoozed in a sun spot, I thought this is precious time. And I was so happy to be in that moment, and to be aware I was in it. Tomorrow I ‘ll get up and have coffee and check my e-mail and go for a run and worry about theweathermyson
thedogsthefuturedidIleavethestoveonmyspeedtheracesdyinglivingthesizeofmyassetc. Today I got recertified in the fine art of porch sitting.

Let me preface this post by saying that, in my quite limited history of running races, I have yet to have a “bad” race. That is to say, it’s still so new that each one is a novel experience, full of lessons. Each has been it’s own individual encounter because I have so little to compare it to. In thinking about that today, I had to take a moment to just acknowledge this sense of innocence. There are so many times that I am hard on myself for not being an instant expert in everything I do, but now here is a time that I have an opportunity to fully appreciate the new, the unknown, the undone. Next year, as I travel through this race roster I will have the benefit (or detriment) of foresight. Right now each race is the beginning of a great adventure.

The reason I mention this is Saturday’s race - the Run for the Arts 5K, which was a lovely little gift. It was a very intimate, small town kind of race put on by the running club of which I am a member and benefitting the Capitol Theater (where, in 1984 I stood on the stage in my high school’s production of Guys & Dolls) At one point I overheard someone say that there were about 60 people registered and that looked about right. The course was dead flad and the weather was sunny and in the 50’sF. Beautiful. Perfect.

I had thought that I would like to try to finish in 33:00. In my few previous races, my goal has been to finish - to run the whole way, and to finish. This day, on this course, I’d practically have to stand still to not PR. So I did - PR, not stand still - by nearly 4 minutes.

We started out in front of the theater and set off over tree-lined neighborhood streets. I almost immediately hitched my wagon to a couple of ladies who were pacing at just about where I wanted to be and the truth is, they pulled me the whole way! I could feel that they were moving faster than my usual pace and the first mile went by in 10:34. I thought this is good, I can sustain this. But as we headed into mile 2 I could tell they were speeding up a little and for a short time I wondered if I would keep up. I concentrated on the imaginary bungee cord I had secretly wrapped around them and attached to my shorts and managed to stick close for 10:08 and 10:09 in miles 2 & 3. As we were coming through one of the last intersections and receiving encouragement from the police officer holding traffic, one of my pacers responded that it was their first race. Wow! As we rounded the bend and were coming up on the chute I got that shot of adrenaline in my legs and felt like I could have kicked it and passed them but after all they’d done for me, it just didn’t feel right. After crossing the line I went over to congratulate them on a great first race and thank them for their part in my new PR. They too are training for their first Boilermaker. No doubt they will rock it! I actually forgot to stop my watch when I finished and I think about a minute or so had gone by before I noticed it. Since I haven’t been able to find any official times posted I am guesstimating about 1:00 for the last 0.1 mile, it might’ve been a little less but I’m not going to quibble over seconds. I deducted 1 minute from the time I finally stopped the clock for a finish of, more or less, 31:52.

My husband came along for this one and took a few pictures. He good-naturedly complained that it is very hard to cheer, clap, and take a picture at the same time, as I am crossing the finish line. I good-naturedly suggested that if he stood behind the finish line rather than before it, he might get a picture of something other than my butt.

Here is a picture of me and my pace team Check out my right foot, how it’s turned out, I had no idea I did that.

Here it is again. What’s up with that! It makes me realize that my form is not how I envision it is. I wonder if it’s a reason why my ankles are so troublesome. Maybe it’s time for Mark and Aaron to come over and videotape me

Ok ok I’m trying to listen to my body, I’m never sure what the flip it’s trying to say, but my ears are wide open.

After Saturday’s wonderful run, I started to have some vague pains in that ankle. Sometimes a throb, sometimes an ache, sometimes a burning sensation, sometimes above the ankle, sometimes at the juncture of the foot and ankle, sometimes at the outer calf. Never severe, but always noticable. I spent Sunday in dazed, depressed anxiety. Monday I started RICEing and popping NSAIDs, Tuesday I felt better but decided to be patient. Yesterday I ran an easy 2 miles and today 3.5 that was not as easy as it should have been but went well anyway. Tomorrow I will rest and Saturday is a nice, flat 5K race. I feel much better psychologically today, following a few days with a lump in my throat.

I think that the training plan I’m using is reasonable in that the weekly distance increases are not greater than 10% but there is also a speed day. Really, any kind of speed work is something that I had not had any previous experience with and I wonder if adding speed and distance all at once is more than I am presently ready for. Hell, I don’t know, am I overdoing? If I back off the speed day will I be underdoing? Until Sunday everything felt just right but evidentally it wasn’t. Ok, I am not going to obsess. I’m going to trade my so-called speed day in for a moderate run for now and continue with the long run increases. No freaking out. Just going forward.

On a happier note, I went to my sister’s for lunch yesterday and and my 2 neices (ages 11 & 8 ) accompanied my run on their bikes. The older one started expressing an interest in running and we talked about doing a local 1K or 1 mile Fun Run, at which point, little sister also decided she was interested. I think it would be so great to share running with them! They’re already doing 10 mile bike rides with their dad, so I’m sure they would smoke me in no time!