Running In Place

Man, I am such a tool.  Seriously, you’ll think so too when I’m finished.  You think I’m such a nice, compassionate nursey-nurse and really I’m just a mean and nasty girl. 

So I go to the Y for open swim after work.  You know, the Y with the 4-lane, 20 yard, 93F pool.  I would rather go to the open swim before work but I’ve been advised that the senior citizens that line up outside the door every morning are very territorial and will not suffer some kid coming in and messing with their water running and beach ball tossing and tread-water social hour.  I would much rather go to my sis’s but thunderstorms were rolling in and I had to bite the bullet.  I arrived at the pool right at the opening and found - THANKFULLY - the water was a much more reasonable 87F, and that there were only a few folks there - all of whom were picking locations on either wall to do aerobics stuff.  Cool.  I got a few laps in as people started to trickle in but I was still able to pretty much keep a path open so I was thinking all was well - then, the walls started to close in. 

Hey! Water Jogger! I get it that you have to stay on the shallow end so you can literally jog across the pool (even though there’s float belts and you could be doing water running lengthwise rather than widthwise across all the lanes), but what gets me is that you are so unwilling to give right of way to anyone who wants to go through.  Sure, we’ll wait for you.  Don’t worry about us - and be sure not to stop if you see us coming, evidently that’s our responsibility.

Um, Dog Paddle Lady - I make no judgments on what form or style you use to swim your lengths - I’m no pro for sure.  And I do appreciate that you are swimming the lanes but the general rule is that you only get one lane.  Unless today is officially Diagonal Day and they forgot to post it, there’s really no reason that you need to start in one lane and end up 3 lanes over by the time you get to the other end.  You’re not putting your face in the water so you can see exactly where you’re going.  Stop with the tic-tac-toe already.

Pardon me, Mom With Toddler Who Won’t Stop Screaming I WANNA GET OUT!  I’m not sure if you know this but, he wants to get out.  Now please stop trying to make him kick and put his face in the water while standing directly in front of me when I’m ready to swim.  Please stop torturing all of us.  By the way, you’re not helping him feel comfortable in water by forcing him into it terrified - I’ve been there and am just now swimming again for the first time in 35 years.  Let’s find a different approach, kay?

Lastly, Elderly Gentleman Who Clearly Shouldn’t Be On The Deep End, dude, you are making me really nervous and it’s very distracting!  I know there’s a lifeguard here who is going to be much better at saving you but since I always seem to be the closest I’m really paying attention so I don’t waste a second when it finally comes time to pull you back up again.  I guess today was a lucky day for both of us but you totally threw me off more than once with your gasping and flailing shenanigans.

On a positive note: Thank you so much Bosnian Guy and Lady In The Blue Suit for watching for me.  Even though you were going across the width and I was going the length, you always looked to see where I was and when I might be coming through - and I did the same for you - and I loved that we just took care of each other like that.

Now before you all think ‘Who the hell does this bird think she is!’ let me tell you: I’m no one.  I just learned to swim a couple months ago, nobody’s going to give me any awards for form, speed, or endurance.  I’m just a Chick Who Wants To Put In Some Laps - not many, whatever I can bang out in an hour - but what evidently sets me apart is that I have an awareness of something outside myself.  I don’t expect the sea to part or all the people to not do what pleases them and helps them be healthy but shit, look around you every now and then to see if your swinging arm is gonna hit somebody!

Yeah, I ranted.  I probably sound like a jerk.  Hopefully my righteous indignance will wear off by the next swim.  Or maybe I should just stick to sister’s pool where the only thing in my way is old Sissee Floating Around In A Lounge Chair With A Cupholder (a lounge chair that will be doing a reenactment of the Poseiden after not too long!). :D      

This day of 7 miles (had been thinking 6 for some reason, but Kurt straightened me out) was almost a wash.  I’ll have to start out by admiting that I was pretty full up with self-pity about today’s missed race, even though I knew it was for the best (and thanks to everyone for talking me off the ledge, by the way).  I made the unwise choices of beer and chicken wings last night while staying up till midnight to finish watching the last disc of Season 3 of SFU.  Surprisingly, when the alarm went off this AM, I was less than enthusiastic about going to the race to cheer or getting started on my own run before the temps got too high.  So.  I dicked around and sat in front of the computer.  And ate a fluffer-nutter, and some potato chips, and some Cool Whip in between 2 graham crackers.  Man, what a baby, huh?  As the day wore on the excuses were coming more easily - it’s getting too hot, there’s supposed to be thunderstorms some time today, if I go for a run now I won’t have time to clean the house (like that was gonna happen).   On and on it went - trying to justify my sloth but knowing well enough that I was about to make a very bad choice.  I started thinking about when I was taking karate and some 10th grade little shit who was an all-full-of-herself brown belt said something in class about how she had a “black belt mind” - while she leaned against the wall and demanded us into endless roundhouse kicks, knife-hand stikes, and high blocks.  I wanted to punch her in the face, though she surely would have laid me out flat once she regained consciousness.  But in the end, in her own cocky, high school way, she was relaying a message to me - well, no, she was just bragging, but the point is that it’s a message I now chose to receive.  I need a “marathon mind.”

Though now armed with a little Zen-ification, I was pretty much dreading the run and made sure to whine plenty to my husband as I was getting ready.  He was appropriately sympathetic but reminded me that I would be glad I went and did it.  Since it was now, like 3 in the afternoon, sunny, 80F, and fairly humid I chose a towpath that has a good amount of shading, as well as a dirt & gravel surface and no hills.  I didn’t want my body to give me any excuse to shitcan this.  I strapped on my water belt and packed up some Sport Beans and hit the trail.  I stopped during warm-up to join a guy on a bike who was watching Mommy & Daddy swans who had made a little nest near the stream.  They must have gotten accustomed to observers because they just continued hanging out. 

Back to running, I set Garmin and grimaced at the task at hand.  6/10ths into the first mile and I had a sensation of pressure directly behind my right kneecap and I was thinking that this didn’t bode well for the rest of the run.  I walked for about 30 seconds and the sensation went away, when I resumed running it slowly returned but less so.  By the end of the first mile it was gone so I trundled on.  I was hot.  It was just so freakin’ hot and sticky and every now and then I’d get a kiss from a deerfly, and I was just tolerating the whole affair.  I did what FGGF # 8 told me and pasted a smile on my face (which actually helps in some weird way) and told myself periodically that I was feeling strong, I was gonna finish, and I had plenty left in the can.  Chris, you might just have saved me out there today.  At 3.5 I turned around and struggled with the glass being half empty or half full but just kept plugging along.  Shortly into mile 4 I started to get a pronounced tightness on the outer aspect of my right hip so I stopped for about a minute of ITB stretching which really seemed to do the trick.  Again, just a bit into the 5th mile the tightness returned and I did the stop & stretch again - and again with success.  I had been drinking my water right along and had probably popped 7 or 8 Sport Beans (which are waaaaay more tolerable than sucking disgusting gel, to my mind) and I was getting a little surge in energy so I picked up the pace a little and rode it as long as I could.  At about 6.1 my hip kicked up again and I thought, hell there’s less than a mile so I’ll just tough it out, but by 6.2 my hip was saying pay me now or pay me later, lady!  So another tree, another stretch and I made it to 7.  Seven sweaty, tight, crybaby miles but dammit I did it!  But only because I finally got my ass out there, in spite of myself. 

Sensei Eleise is now a Black Belt.  Clearly she knew something my ego couldn’t give her credit for at the time, but now I am seeing that the development of the mind precedes the development of the body.  I can’t say I loved this run but I love that, for the first time, I busted out the Marathon Mind - it’s just a baby, it’s got alot of growing to do, but I’m going to do my best to feed it and love it and make it welcome in my world.

Ok, I need help.  Boilermaker 15K is in 3 days.  I’m registered, I’m totally not prepared, and I’m DYING to run it!

Three weeks ago, when I got the green light to run again, I made the wise and mature decision to forego this year even though I had already registered.  I figured that, after 2 months of no running, getting myself up to 9 miles, with a couple of good hills in that short time would be begging for trouble - and I just didn’t want to compromise M training for something foolhardy.  I mean, you know me, my legs are one spark away from spontaneous combustion on a good day.  Why borrow trouble?  Decision made. 

End of story.

So there!

But now that it’s here….I really really really want to run it.  And no, I’m not any more ready than I would have anticipated.  My M-training long run this week is 6 miles, which will also be the longest distance I’ve run since…..shit, February maybe.  I’ve been incorporating a few hills into my runs but not focusing on them like I did before this race last year (which landed me up with psoas trouble, in any case), and my pace is a good minute to minute + half slower right now on much shorter runs.  Plus, besides the risk of injury, I don’t want to run a race half-assed.  I don’t want to run it slower than last year, I don’t want to take walk breaks, I don’t want to treat it like a training run - cause it’s not - it’s a race.  And I sure as shit don’t want to DNF it! 

So there it is.  All of the sane, rational reasons why the decision to go and cheer rather than go and run is the right one.  And I do believe that to be truth.  But.  God.  I want to run it soooooooo bad.  It’s such an awesome race - the course, the crowds, the community, the party.  I really really really want to be in on that and that fact that I CAN run makes if very hard to sit on the sidelines.

It should be a clear decision.  I don’t want to blow up my knee, or worse.  I don’t want to run a poor race, I don’t want to compromise the marathon - so what’s the problem?  But dammit, I really want to do this!  In spite of all the obvious and valid reasons for prudence, I am feeling really compelled!

Embrace sanity, or passion?  All thoughts welcome.  Any voices outside of the ones in my head will be greatly appreciated.

Yesterday was my longest run in many a month - 5 miles.  I’ve mostly been plugging along with 3 and 4 miles over the past few weeks but since I’m now In Training and all, I guess I’ve gotta step it up.  Today my knee has just a slight twinge to it which reminds me that this may be a slow and conservative process, but I am armed with some exercises from the PT to try to keep things at bay.  In any case, the run was a good one.  It was 85F and humid and I definately flagged in mile 4, but I was able to perk up in the last mile and felt like I finished strong.  So, you know, that’s encouraging.  I’m running pretty slow, like 12:30 and 13:00 miles and I am here to tell you that I don’t mind one bit.  Any running is better than no running - I can’t qualify runs in terms of “good” or “bad” anymore.  Any run - the slowest, ugliest, shittiest feeling run is as awesome as the I-just-flew-like-an-eagle run.  It’s very existence is perfection.  (Ok, so I can’t NOT wax poetic, sue me).

No run scheduled for today but I have been trying to swim on Mondays.  The pool at the YWCA is a cute little 20 yard affair with 4 lanes.  Most generally, lap swimming involves alot of dodging water joggers and aquacizers.  The other difficulty is that the majority of members are senior citizens who mistake swimming pool with sauna and are constantly complaining that the water is too cold - the result: last week’s laps were done in 93F water.  It was like swimming in molasses…..or pee.  Today, with the temp and humidity high, I could not even contemplate going to swim in that bathtub.  The old Lara would have shitcanned the whole endeavor, but this new Marathon-Grrl-To-Be Lara decided to be a little more creative.  So I drove up to my sissee’s, broke into her pool, and swam to my heart’s content.  And, as luck would have it, when said sister came home she had pizza in hand.  I took that to be a nod from the Universe that my fortitude was being rewarded. 

Just running.

You see, it’s hard.  When you’re not running it’s hard to muster the energy to write much about anything other than not running - and that’s it’s own kind of hard.  When you run, you write about running, and it’s got a purity to it - even when you bring all your angst and insecurity and self-critcism into it.  It’s about someTHING.  When you write about not running, it’s a vacuum - the angst, insecurity, etc., are still there but there is also the absense of the THING.  So, you know, my blog about running tends to lose its punch when I’m not running.  Shit, I lose my punch when I’m not running.  Thank heavens that’s all done with.

Here’s what’s real: I started marathon training with this dude.  If I think about it, really contemplate where this training plan is supposed to take me, I get a little freaked out.  Do I believe I can do it?  Yeah, I’d say so.  Though I know, intimately, how easy it is for my body to go awry, even when I think I’m doing everything right - but I can’t waste time anticipating the worst.  All I can think about now is crossing that finish line to have David pass me an ice cold beer (assuming Dietrich executes my wake-up call properly).

Part of my marathon training goal is to learn how to talk about running again.  Now that I can run, I don’t need to spend my time crafting some depressing, or by turn uplifting, post about not running.  I’ll just tell you about my run.  And I’ll tell me about my run, because I suppose - for better or worse - I’ll want to know, I’ll want to remember my first time.

…..to be continued.