Running In Place

We had a lightning strike late last week and our ethernets got fried. Turns out more than that got toasted on my computer and we’re still trying to figure out the problem. Anyway, I have been trying to steal time on my son’s machine, hoping to bang this out sometime before next year’s half.

So. 13.1 miles. Yeah, that’s cool. And seriously, it’s hard to believe I did it - not because I didn’t think I could, but because I can so clearly remember this month last year, when I was taking tentative post-injury steps - grateful to be running but terrified of re-injury and unsure of what I could do, how far I could go. Now here I am, just thinking about the difference a year can make and thinking about all the yet unknown possibilities that next year holds.

Ok, enough philosophizing. Here’s the story:

We left for Schroon (pronounced sKroon) Lake Friday evening. My friend, Terry, and her Jack Russell, Sadie, came over to house and dog-sit and after many last minute instructions about how to accomodate my spoiled, anti-social, slightly insane dogs (and shutting away my poor little guinea pig - as Jack Russells are kind of zealous about rodent killing), off we took for the North Country. Two and a half hours later we checked into our motel, found a great little pub for late supper, then kicked back in the room with a little South Park on cable TV. We don’t have cable or dish at home, though we do pull in a couple stations with the ol’ rabbit ears, so cable is like Christmas for my poor deprived son. The perfect vacation for him would be sitting in a motel room and watching Monster Garage for a week.

Saturday morning was heralded by my husband’s cell phone, followed by about an hour and a half of troubleshooting some computer crisis at the office. Once work worries were dispensed, we headed for breakfast, then to the packet pick-up. With course map in hand, we set off to drive the route. Much as what was described, the first half of the marathon route is a way hilly challenge! Twisting, winding ups and downs (heavy on the ups) - my husband was driving and I actually got a little car sick from all the twist and roll. Come the 2nd half (and Half M start), it got super nice with scenic lake views and flats to easy rollin’ hills. Sweet. Next was some touristing in nearby Lake George, which included alot of walking. It occured to me later that it might have been unwise to spend so much time on my feet but my sneaks were comfy and by the end of the day I was so tired that when it was time to sleep - I slept great! All night long baby!

Sunday morning! Plan was to have Brian get me into town before the main road closed so I could see the marathon starters and catch a shuttle to my start, then after the boys did check-out and breakfast they would be waiting at the finish (they had plenty of time to get there ) After a cup of coffee and smooches goodbye, I was left to find myself a spot to view the maraton start. The schedule was handcycle/wheelchair, marathon, then 1/2ers hustle to the busses and head for their start. So, ok, side story: a few days prior Bill had introduced himself as a fellow ADK 1/2 marathoner, coming in from Ottawa. We hoped to run into each other, but not knowing the town, or each other, I wasn’t sure if we would. As I’m walking down the sidewalk towards the line of busses for the start, the guy walking behind me is talking to someone and saying blah blah blah I’m from Ottawa. I turn around and ask are you Bill??. He says yeah, are you Lara? Whaddaya know!! There’s a little more synchronicity for us, Mark!! Bill and I chatted away the bus ride until it was time to deboard and make way to the portajohn line (of which I, of course, chose the slowest moving). After that, I ditched my warm-up clothes, reluctantly because, although ultimately it was a great day for running - with overcast skies, temps in the low 60’s F, and a cool breeze - it was a not so pleasant day for standing around in shorts. Prior to our start, we cheered the hand cyclists and the first of the marathon walkers (who had their start at 7 am) through - then we were off.

I knew from the drive through that the first 4 or more miles were pretty well flat with some subtle downhill grades. Starting out at a reasonable pace was going to be, as it always is, one of my bigger challenges. My plan was to try to stick around 12:00 miles and finish in about 2:37. I thought I might be able to go a little faster but I just wasn’t sure - I’d never had to spread my efforts across such a distance. I started out with a comfortable pace and spent a little time glancing at the lake and scenery and trying not to think about being in the first mile of 13, trying not to wonder how the day would unfold. Not knowing that separate mile markers were set up for the 1/2ers, I hit my watch at the 14 mile mark. I was just passing a race walker and she said “oh, I’m going too fast.” I reminded her that we had gone 9/10 of a mile rather than a full mile at this point. She said “oh that’s right…..but still.” My watch read 9:56 and I thought she might be right so I slowed a little and hit the 1/2er’s one mile mark at 11:30. Faster than I planned but I felt very comfortable so I wasn’t too keen on slowing down too much more. Just decided to hope I could keep it up!

I really enjoyed the next couple miles, but at about 5K I began to let the overwhelming thoughts creep in. Physically I was having no problems but for some reason that little mental dam that holds back the doubts and insecurities chose that moment to spring a leak. Sure it’s been a great 3 miles but you’ve still got 10 to go! This is g0ing to be miserable, this is going to be terrible. Are you even going to be able to do it?? It was at that point that a water stop came into sight. As soon as I was in sight of the volunteers, they began shouting encouragement. As I came through, they were all laughing and making jokes and giving me a boost. I headed off with a smile on my face and a whole new outlook. They were exactly what I needed at exactly the right moment. The negative thoughts were annihilated and I did not doubt myself again for the rest of the race!

Coming around the south end of the lake, at a little over 4 miles, I got passed by the marathon leader. That dude was cruising! A girl that was several paces ahead of me turned around and said “was that a marathoner?” and I said “yeah, we just got smoked!” This was to be the beginning of a beautiful race day friendship! I pulled up next to her and we fell easily into pace with each other. And so it was for the next 7 miles, Krisite and I, keeping each other on pace, chatting occasionally, cheering for the marathoners who were passing us in greater numbers now, saying good morning and thanks to all the great volunteers and spectators. It was so great to pass the time and hold the effort with her that I can’t even imagine what the race would have been like for me had we not hooked up.

Coming up on mile 11, we found ourselves chugging up a hill that kind of took us by surprise. Up till now, the hills had been nicely rolling - this one wasn’t terribly steep but it lasted awhile. Kristie was starting to slow a little and I was facing that inner conflict: should I stay or should I go now? I mean, we had helped each other along all this way, here we were near the end, where the encouragement of a cohort means the most, and I’m contemplating leaving her behind. It felt kind of shitty to think of but, man, when we crested that hill I had fire in my feet! I was just dying to go!! I can say honestly that had the tables been turned, I would no way no how want her to hang back with me. Just at the time I was going to ask her what she thought about all this, another runner came up on my right and started chatting. It turned out that she was one of the race organizers and as we ran along, she started taking an impromptu survey. We ran along a short bit and I realized I had pulled away from Kristie so I looked back to see her not too far behind. I called to her and she said she was doing fine. At this point, we came to a water stop and in the bustle of it all I found myself coming away alone. Maybe I’m a shit, because I was conflicted, but at that moment I chose to just go and not look back. There was just about 2 miles to go and the road of the visible future was nicely downhill, and my gosh I felt so good - so ready to go! So I did.

The first of those last 2 miles was just about the best thing I have ever felt in my life. I was running hard and I felt strong, powerful even. I was tired, and my hip joints were protesting, but my mind was blissfully absorbing the notion that I was nearly at the end of 13 miles and disbelieving the fact that I felt this powerful kick after all the distance so far. I ROCK! I AM INVINCIBLE!!

Oh, um, did I mention that I was running down hill at the time?

So then. Last mile. Not so much with the downhill there. In fact, though the hills in the last mile could hardly be called hills under normal circumstances, they were mini-mountains after my impulsive (though amazing and not to be traded for anything) charge through the previous mile. In the end, I plowed. I plowed through and it was, at the time: kind of terrible. But in retrospect: Awesome!! Even now, thinking about it, writing about it, I’m all like excited - as though it didn’t feel like my heart was going to explode, as thouugh my stomach wasn’t going to do a back flip or my hip joints weren’t going to fly out of their sockets the way tires fly off a car when the lugnuts aren’t secure. Selective memory is the best thing ever!

As I turned the corner for the final stretch, I tried to search the crowd for my family but I was so focused that my husband had to wave wildly and call my name 3 times before I saw him, and my poor son was beyond the Finish waiting for me and I never even noticed him as I crossed the line and staggered back to meet my old man. I waited to cheer Kristie through the finish and met up with her after for congratulations and exchange of e-mails. She did not seem nearly as concerned about my running off as I was. She was running her own race. Why do I make things so difficult?

Afterwards, I got my warm-up duds on quick as the wind was picking up and I was getting chilled. After some water, coffee, bagels, stretching, and even a little massage, I was ready to hobble to the car and we headed for home. It was finished. Wow.

This race was not chip timed, so my official time was 2:30:59 but my watch time was 2:30:37. Not a big difference but, yeah, I’m going with the watch I finished 286/352 overall and 21/29 in F35-39 AG. My pace averaged 11:30 and I never did run a full 12:00 mile like I had anticipated - the first 11 miles ranged in the 11:30’s-11:50’s and the last 2.1 in the 10:30’s. So I could not be happier! I beat my goal time by more than 5 minutes!

Last in this epic is a shout to the organizers, volunteers, and spectators of this race. Lots of encouragement and enthusiasm to be had! I’ve thought many times that I need to volunteer some time to my local races but now I am truly motivated to. The volunteers at the Adirondack Distance Festival made me want to be a volunteer. They rocked!!

So that’s it. If you didn’t see the link to my pictures in the previous post, you can look here.

Now what’s next?? Bill is talking up the Ottawa Marathon quite a bit. Hmmm.

I am dying to slam out my race report! My computer situation is a bitch due to lightning strike - fried ethernet and some other undiscovered ramifications. It’s all in the works. Here’s some pics!

Meanwhile, check out Bill - a fellow blogger who I not only read, but sat on the bus with! Yay for the Ottawa contingent!!!

More to come. I swear!

P.S. - Thanks to Mark for moving the couch and giving the room a whole new look, and David for the smoldering picture. How great is he to capture my essence like that (ok, I cropped it out of a random group shot but whatever - he’s still an artist!).

Ok, the half is done. The half was awesome. Excellent. My computer is wonky and I am dyin’ for my bed. More later.

Well, there is no word forthcoming from the south so, at this point, my life will continue on its merry way. It’s not ruled out that I might still be called upon but I highly doubt that anything is going to come together in the next few days anyway. I really thought this one was coming together because it was being coordinated by a hospice down there. There’s not so much need for people filling emergency medical or acute care roles at this point but there is supposedly a big need for the grief/loss/bereavement specialties and, well, that’s my gig, so I figured it might be happening this time. Not that it still can’t, but my window of time is closing - and I have to admit, I’m getting a little pissed off about all the false starts. Yeah, it’s not about me, it’s mostly my ego.

Anyway, THIS post is really about running. It’s about running my first 1/2 marathon!! It’s about thinking ‘ok, I’m gonna be here to do it/ok, I’m not/oh, yes it looks like I am/nope, probably not/oops, I guess so’. It’s about feeling well prepared, except for that freaking hip thing that won’t go away despite nearly 2 months of PT! And it’s about being anxiousnervousexcited - but after my last run, mostly WAY EXCITED!!

This was yesterday evening. This was after skipping a couple of runs in the last days of my taper, days of having sat on my butt for hours at a time getting trained on an utterly flawed software program that I will, in turn, have to train some other nurses on (and, P.S., they are being complete bitches about the whole thing! In case you didn’t know - change is bad and if you are miserable and resistant enough it will go away and never come back. Right???). Days that I just succumbed to an utter lethargy. BUT. Yesterday afternoon I walked out of the office, intent on ignoring my bag of running clothes that had been riding untouched in the back seat for a few days now. What a beautiful time it was - sunny, warm but not hot, a touch humid but it felt good after being in air-conditioned hell all day. I thought you are insane if you do not run a mile, a 1/2 mile, hell go for a walk, something. Anything. So I went back in and changed, I drove to the towpath I knew was the shadiest, and I set off.

I set my watch for 20 minutes out and 20 back, I strapped on the mp3 player and I just cruised. To describe this run, really - well, I’m just not literally talented enough - but I’ll tell you the factors that were in play: The weather was summer-nice. Warm, a little humid but not oppressive, sun not yet setting but getting low. A nice contrast - there actually are quite alot of fallen leaves on the trail, making for much underfoot crunching. As I was running out, facing the sun, I moved in and out of the shade. With the low sun, and my sunglasses on, it had the effect of a strobe light. It accentuated the color of the trees and grass and water and dirt. I had this feeling of sharpened senses, higher acuity. At the same time, I was listening to my total favorite running partner and he’s talking about living life to the fullest. So here’s me, on a nice short run, in a nice easy pace, with the nearly-fall sun showing itself softly through the trees where it can, listening to a story about a guy who did not necessarily live demonstrably - but lived fully while he did, and feeling totally entirely completely keyed into the moment. You know when you feel that heart-swell instant in a movie, where it all fits together and takes your breath away? Like that. Elongated. A wonderful convergence of circumstances. A week or more of stress, concern, frustration, blah blah blah. Gone.

Tomorrow evening my husband, son, and I will take off for a north country lake. We’ll have a nice couple of getaway days that we all need and want. I love those guys and we will, as we pretty much always do, have a great time together. They will kindly hang around while I make my way through my most imposing distance yet. I’m nervous, but I’m not scared. I expect challenge, I expect discomfort. My blissful three and a half mile run yesterdy does not make me impervious to the 1/2 M mid-mile mind screams of WHY did I ever want to do this?? but I’ve got alot of bliss to draw from so I think I’m gonna be ok.

Those who have been checking in on me for awhile are pretty much aware that I left my full-time job waaaaaaay back at the end of April and have been grooving on a summer vacation kind of thing nearly ever since. Doing a little per diem work for my old employer, doing a little bartending at my dad’s Legion, doing alot of porch sitting/blog reading/stupid Days of Our Lives watching. Well, evidently, summer is over. Evidently, the days of spending 2 or 3 hours in the AM drinking coffee and reading blogs are gone. Evidently, the days of having “Run” be the only thing on my schedule are gone. Also, it would appear, the late nights of beer, microwave popcorn, and Fear Factor are not only gone but had left a few errant pounds around the middle in their wake. The Summer of Sloth is. Evidently. Over.

In truth, I greet this with excitement and anticipation. When I left my job in the spring, I was toast. I felt brittle and dry and hollow. Since the age of 16, I had never NOT worked, so the notion of “taking some time off” was wildly exciting and full of possibility. I’ll travel, I’ll go hiking, I’ll do volunteer work, I’ll catch up on my reading, I’ll do all those things around the house that I never have time for. I’ll have all this time to be the person I always think I should be, if only I had the time. One of the social workers I worked with had listened kindly to all the things I was going to do with my time, and then said “don’t DO anything, just be there, on your porch, in your woods. Why do you have to DO anything?” That’s really about all I needed to hear. So the story of my summer is really encapsulated above - long coffee mornings, lazy afternoons, and hangin’ around evenings. My husband should get a superhero award for never, ever being the slightest bit perturbed (or at least showing it) when he would come home from a long day at work and I would not have gotten the mail (mailbox, 100 ft away), or washed the dishes (sink, about 12 ft away from my rocking chair on the porch), or was not even home but had left a note on the fridge that I was out with friends. Do I sound impossible to live with? I’m really not, I’m a total giver and all - but when I couldn’t be that for this little while, that guy was all about what I needed. The most tolerant being, ever.

So where am I? Oh, yes, summer’s over. And I feel like I’m SO back. I retreated, and I am refreshed. Presently, because of some positional changes at Hospice, I have been back to working nearly full-time hours to help them through the transitions. Next week, I begin ‘Train the Trainer’ sessions with our software provider so that I can assist in the roll out of our laptop ‘bedside computing’ component - which will be a long process of software building and training of some nurses who are veeeeeerry resistant to these new-fangled contraptions. Also, in mid-October, I will be starting my new job, the one in the acute cardiac care unit that I had my eye on all summer! This will be a huge departure from what I have been doing and they’re going to educate the crap out of me with critical care courses and advanced cardiac life support training. I am going to have some bizeee months coming up and I can’t wait! I’m sure that there are going to be times when I am totally exhausted and thinking to myself WHY? Why did I want to do all this?? But really, the thought of going from being so incredibly static to so wildly dynamic is pretty invigorating! Just to kick it off, I managed to get off my butt and lose the beer and popcorn gut in pretty short order and am at my lowest weight in about 5 years! Am I heading for the zone or what!

Here’s something else, and it’s not confirmed yet and probably won’t be for at least a few more days, but it is possible that I may be going down to Louisiana to do some volunteer work for a week or two! It’s been an interesting process to get to the point where I might be able to do what I have so much wanted to do since this all began. At first, I received many e-mails from various professional nursing organizations of which I am a member:

* Local Louisiana organization (communicating thru nat’l organization): please e-mail us if you’re interested - - thanks for your e-mail, the feds won’t let us into the shelters right now but we’ll keep you posted.
* New York State database: please register with us — thanks for registering, turns out the feds are not going to use state databases, please go and register with them
* Federal database: thanks for registering with us, the need will go on for a long time so please sit on your hands until we let you know we’re ready to do something, then maybe you can wait a little more.

So presently I may have an opportunity to go down with a team that will be giving support to “non-official” shelters that are housing more than 10,000 people at this time. It’s so hard waiting for the next e-mail to come. I just want to jump on a plane and go do something. Maybe I should rent a boat.

The bittersweet part of this potential opportunity will be shitcanning the 1/2 Marathon. At this point, I’m treating everything like it’s going to happen as planned until I hear otherwise and tapering per schedule. I will be sad if it’s necessary to abort the 1/2 but the desire to run it does not match the desire I have to go do this thing while I am able to.
_____________

So what about actual running?? Well, last weekend was my last long run (and longest run yet) at 12 miles. I did the towpath thing again - started in the center and went back and forth in both directions so that I passed my car twice but only had to stop to re-supply once. What seemed to work well for me was Sunk!st fruit snacks and Gat0rade/water in about 1/2-n-1/2 mixture. A few fruit snacks at about 4 miles and 8 or 9 miles, plus swigs of my mixture about every 1.5 - 2 miles. It was a warm day but not particularly humid, I think there was a nice breeze. I ended up with a pace of 12:05/mile average (excluding 1 car stop and 1 portajohn stop) which was a little faster than I intended (was thinking more 12:30) but I never felt like I was running harder than I wanted to. Of course my legs were feeling it pretty hard by the end, but my cardio felt fine and untaxed. I was a little sore for a few days after, particularly in the hip joints (P.S. Got a left hip and pelvis x-ray to rule out degenerative joint disease. Consider it ruled out - yay!!!).

Another cool run this week involved a tempo run by choice and not just because I was not paying attention. The schedule said run 30 minutes, and I figured that was short enough to just go, so I did. It was humid so I felt like it was a bit of a struggle but I finished 3 miles in the 30 minutes, which is nearly 5K PR race pace for me. Maybe technically kind of too fast for what a tempo run should be (cause I still don’t totally get it all) but a good hard run that I really felt like doing at the time.
___________

One last thing. I already fessed up to Jon and the deceit of it all is nearly killing me. I totally fabricated the thing about putting peanut butter on the truffle. I have always been steadfastly honest in my blogging but this time I succumbed to the lure of dramatic intent, somehow inherently knowing that, if there was anything that would get a rise out of Jon, it would be the defacing of a truffle. The eating off the floor thing - true. The peanut butter - untrue. I do, after all, have standards.

So my conscience is clear, my hope is that I will be forgiven for my misleading, yet clever, hoax and I heretofore pledge honesty in all blog matters and never again to be seduced to go for the easy laugh (unless it might possibly provide the added humor of lovingly antagonizing Jon).