Miles To Go

A Whole Lotta Nothin'

I fear that this entry may put you to sleep before you reach the conclusion of this initial sentence, but my friend, Annie inspired me to write something. We caught each other on Google Chat this afternoon (what a neat tool!) and she motivated me to write with the remark, "you've only posted once in July!?" That was enough to swipe the match and light a little writing fire . . . my goddesses know that writing always courses through my fingers like soothing waves of magic; writing is how I self medicate.

And because I have so little to comment on regarding my own training, I think I will embarrass Annie (sorry Annie!). She is probably the most humble local runner that I know, but she is also the fastest woman in Chicago right now (and maybe even the Midwest - she can totally mix it up with the Hansons!). She clicks off 1:18 half marathons, 35 minute 10Ks, and 56 minute 15Ks like a pro (which makes sense since she is practically a professional runner!). But what makes Annie so amazing is that she is the mother of 2 gorgeous Lilliputs (as she so aptly puts it), Cooper and Will. AND she is a poet and an artist. AND she is totally smart, modest, calm, cool, collected . . . I believe I used those precise words to describe her the first time that we met in March . . . at the Shamrock Shuffle . . . where she destroyed the field. Very. Cool. Indeed. AND she hasn't even come close to reaching her running potential yet!

As I get older - and I know I am not that old - I treasure my friendships more, and I find myself constantly wondering about the inner hum and manufacturing of one's soul. I guess you could say that I have also found myself in a recent state of nostalgia. I know that literary critics and several other schools of thought eschew nostalgia and it's potential evil twin: sentimentalism, but I am - at heart - both nostalgic and sentimental. I am empathetic; I am dream about the good ol days of childhood. I treasure the wisdom of my elders.

Although I do not allow these traits to paralyze me in the past, I do think it's healthy to revisit the past, dig through what we buried there long ago, and even bring out some stuff for a little microscopic inspection.

Why am I writing this? I visited my mom on Saturday and I found 6 boxes of stuff still in my closet (it's been almost 10 years since I lived at home!). One box was full of letters from a time in my life when I was struggling . . . to read those letters and the words of encouragement couched inside of them . . . left me extremely grateful for the gift that life can be. Some of the stuff I found comical, like several emails that I exchanged with my Harvard educated, triple degreed cousin, regarding modernism and postmodernism. I was only 18 at the time, but I made quite a case for modernism's persistence in our current cultural climate; I suppose I didn't realize how philosophical I was at that stage in my youth. I also found 4 books on Nietzsche and several papers on "logotheraphy."

Now, out of the sandbox of my past, I am left to ponder one of my favorite quotes (Bill Bowerman speaks these wise words in the movie Without Limits):

If you can find meaning in the kind of running you need to do to stay on this team then chances are you can find meaning in another absurd past-time- life.
I think my favorite phrase in that quote is the one that refers to life an "absurd past-time."

I'll delve into my cross-training boot camp soon!

The Gift of Time and Distance

So I never updated my blog "tomorrow" as I said that I would. It turned out that I needed some time and distance away from the race. I needed to let it breathe and simmer - to climb out of my mind and hibernate in my heart and soul for a while. Salty hit the nail on the head with her post race analysis. Almost two weeks after that 2:57 and my body is BROKEN. I have visited the physical therapist a few times and she has reminded me of that fact. I cannot even pronounce all of the muscular ailments firing in my body like a round of ammunition in dire need of some ritalin (illegal dosages, mind you). Needless to say, it's going to take a while for my body to calm down, heal, and rebound. While I originally set my sights on Chicago this fall (with a vengeance), I have now edited my fall plans. My new mantra is one day at a time.

Aside from running (or lack thereof), there have been some significant changes on the home-front. I resigned from my lectureship at my university last Thursday. I won't divulge the details here (plus, they are not exciting), but I finally realized that I was slaving away in a job with little room for advancement or life fulfillment. While I love teaching, I do not love faculty and administrative BS. I do not strive to continue on for my doctorate at this time, and without it, I am nothing but virtually free labor. I have several ideas cooking for what might be to come . . . I will keep everyone posted as I navigate the unemployment geography! However, I do not think that I will be unemployed for very long - I have a good feeling that I will be working around the clock soon enough :) I am really excited about diving into the unknown, taking a few risks, suffering some rejection, enjoying some acceptance, and, of course, RUNNING (and, for that matter, sleeping more than 3-4 hours/night)! Life is very good right now.

And aside from running and job hunting, I have been glued to Eliterunning.com! I am a sucker for Track and Field - I have been since the day I turned my first circle in 1986. I absolutely love the USA Olympic Trials, and I cannot wait to see how it all unfolds today, tomorrow and Sunday.

I plan to keep updating this space even though I might not have the most inspiring training to dish about.

Disappointed

I will write more tomorrow, but the title of this entry pretty much sums up exactly how I feel about my race in Duluth. I knew as early as mile 11 that the day was not going to be there for me so the final 15 miles of the race were rather long and lonesome - something I am sure I will reflect upon tomorrow as I try to compose some kind of post-race analysis.

Right now I am mostly experiencing the post-race depression; to be frank, I feel a little lost and sad and down . . . but like all storms in life, this, too, shall pass, and when it does, there will be something bright awaiting on the horizon. The eternal optimist in me will come roaring back, but - for now - I need to sit with this feeling of disappointment and let it slowly crawl out of my mind, my heart, and my body. It will. In time.

I finished 13th in 2:57. My sisters cautiously called me after the race - their voices stuck in a kind of nomadic space: they wondered if I would be happy with a "sub 3" or if I would be disappointed in not dipping further south under that benchmark. I will confess that I was reduced to tears at the finish: my goal wasn't to run "just' a sub 3 . . . it was to see how close to cracking 2:50 I could come. I executed H.'s race plan perfectly. I took it out almost too conservatively for my liking. I was sure - at mile 9 - that I had this sucker. But it's the marathon and it swallowed me . . . it swallowed me good. I never hit a wall, but I felt terrible 70+ minutes into the course and it just never got any better.

Anyway, I have a lot to think about. I will be on a forced running vacation for the next few weeks. I went into this race a little banged up and then I kind of blew out my IT Band at mile 17. I don't know badly I injured it yet because all of my muscles are still on fire, but I imagine I will know in the next couple of days. It's time heal the old body, though. There is little doubt in my mind that the IT Band is related to the glutes, which are related to the back, which is related to the SI Joint . . . it's time to finally take a break and heal. Hopefully I will find some interesting cross-training stories to share :)

Packing the Car

It's been a very very very very very very very long 11 days, but I am going to Duluth.

I got into the doctor last Thursday and I received amazingly good news and some so-so news, but nothing earth-shattering or career ending :) The good news is that this back injury is not related to my lumbar spinal problems, and that it responds really well to my home remedy (see previous post!).

The doctor diagnosed me with three specific ailments: acute lower back muscle strains/spams; SI Joint Dysfunction; and an out of alignment pelvis. The combination of these three things will result in a perpetual pain, but the pain is more annoying than alarming. I basically asked the doctor one question: if I race this marathon, is there any chance that it could result in permanent damage? He responded with a confident, immediate and firm "NO." That pretty much confirmed my decision that I am racing this monster.

Do I feel great? Heck no. But who feels good during a taper anyway? This back hurdle has been an unwelcome obstacle, but I refuse to write negative thoughts on the easel between my ears. I have done the work, the miles are banked. It's time to withdraw every ounce of strength that I have and approach the start upbeat, ready, and focused.

I guess I see this marathon in two ways. 1) As an opportunity to really try to negative split (I've already mastered the art of positive splitting!!!). I plan to roll it out so slowly the first 9 miles that all I really have to do is buckle down and race like hell for 16.2; I can figure out the full 26.2 this summer as I build toward Chicago. 2) I see this as a dress rehearsal for Chicago in the fall. This will be a learning experience . . . I'm learning a lot even as I write this!

I just need to focus, focus, focus. I cannot let the internal hum of my mind transform from a soft, rhythmic melody to a hard, out of sync jam. I'm disappointed that after months of 65-80 miles/week, I am 4-5 pounds heavier than I was last Fall. Maybe it's muscle, but it's not all muscle ;) I know that . . . as runners, we know our bodies pretty well. But, then, I need to replay the Palos half in my head. Those pounds certainly didn't slow me down . . . in fact, they sped me up 12 seconds/mile. So I need to quit letting every little annoying thought bring me down right now. That's what the taper can do and taking an 8 day running vacation hasn't exactly left me unshakably confident.

This taper has been like a freakin' mad demon that needs to be exorcised on Saturday!!!!
So I am packing up the car tomorrow and I am driving to Minnesota.

Mental Breakdown (in a good way)

I broke down. I took Joe Positive's advice and I called Northwestern Hospital - they have a great reputation in sports medicine. At approximately 1:00 PM on Thursday, I will know whether or not the race is a go. In my gut, I have a very good feeling that I will be at the start in 11 days.

In the meantime, here is a look at my typical day:
1) wake up
2) take pain-killers
3) ice
4) walk for 60 minutes
5) ice
6) apply icy-hot patch - good for 8 hours!!
7) work, work, work to keep my mind occupied
8) walk some more
9) ice
10) hot shower
11) more pain-killers
12) apply Therma-Care heating pad
13) pray to running gods and goddesses
14) sleep (restlessly . . . my back regresses at night and progresses as the day goes on)

I manage to eat, too :) This is exactly how my days have crawled since Saturday afternoon. I am feeling much more optimistic because this somewhat obsessive-compulsive routine has resulted in a better back.

I feel better after walking, and I am tempted to throw in some light jogs tomorrow before I see the doctor on Thursday. That way I will be able to tell him honestly whether or not things hurt when I run. I know I definitely have some kind of muscle hiccup or spasm on the right side that is killing me. My primary hope is that this is NOT related to my spinal problems. If this is all muscular, then I will be good to go!

That said, I am prepared to do whatever the doctor says. I made a doctor's appointment because I know that I am too emotionally, mentally, and physically invested in this marathon to make a 110% rational decision. In my mind, I am running this damn thing. However, I have spent 28 years figuring out that it's not always wise to trust what my mind screams out in thunderous booms. Sometimes I need to step back, let other voices creep in, and then make an informed decision.

Plus, I still feel like I am scratching the surface, especially in terms of the marathon. This race has always been planned as a dress rehearsal for the big dance in October . . . this Fall marks the moment to rip a gigantic PR. So long as I keep that perspective fresh in my mind, I will be okay with whatever the doctor suggests. I am actually kind of surprised at how calm and at peace I feel about all of this. A few years ago, I would have been tossing some tantrums like a 2 year-old. It's amazing how we mature as athletes :)

Thank you all so so so so much for the comments!!!

If I do race, I can guarantee you that I will be the most rested athlete there ;)

Marathon in Jeopardy - Trying Not to Panic

There are very few things in life that I absolutely HATE, but I absolutely HATE getting injured . . . especially when the injury results more from a freak incident than anything running/training related. Sometimes I would much prefer to at least get hurt running!

TWELVE days out from the race and I have no idea whether or not I will be at the start line. To say that this doesn't feel very good is like saying I have tummy ache. It's a gross understatement. How do I really feel? I feel mostly sad . . . and angry at myself. A few years ago (almost two, to be exact), I was sidelined with a back injury. I was convinced that I had a stress fracture, but several tests and doctor visits confirmed that I had Degenerative Disc Disease in my lumbar spine. Basically, I have an arthritic lower back and I have 2 bulging discs. When I found this out two years ago, I hung up the running shoes . . . and I was prepared to hang them up for good. I was only 26!!!

But then, like I usually do, I studied the disease and found out that it sounded a lot scarier than it was. If I was careful, I could resume running again, and 4 months later, I did. I built back up very slowly and I haven't felt a lick of pain since the diagnosis. However, I have known all along that my lower back is incredibly weak. I have had two years to focus on core training and strengthening, and you know what? I haven't done a gosh darn thing to strengthen it. Sure, I tried Pilates. Sure, I've done a few thousand sit-ups in 24 months. But I haven't done anything consistent. Maybe I had this coming to me :(

Anyway, I kicked off Saturday with the worst workout that I have had in this marathon training cycle. I couldn't hit any of the assigned paces and I couldn't mentally focus. It was also creeping into the 80s, the humidity was as a thick as Aunt Jemima syrup, and I was sweating more than I have sweat in the past few months . . . combined! Needless to say, I was in bad shape and I was sucking wind (and having flashbacks to Chicago 2007!).

When I finished the run (10 miles of tears and agony), I met up with Colleen and my 3 year-old niece, Rosie, for Chicago's annual Wondergirl Girls on the Run 5K. There were thousands of people at the race, and seeing a bunch of girls ages 7-14 wearing tiaras and celebrating the beauty of their bodies instead of tearing them down really boosted my mood. I am a big advocate of instilling positive self-esteem in young girls - I wish more young women (and us adult women) admired the strength of our bodies instead of nervously fidgeting over being a size 2 or a specific number on the scale. I'm pretty convinced that ALL women struggle with their body image on some kind of continuum.

Anyway, Rosie is only 3 so both Colleen and I knew that there was no way that she could possibly last for a 5K! So I decided that it would be fun to give her piggy-back rides, and to make it even more fun, she could steer me like a car! Truly, it was the most fun that I have had in a LONG time! But Colleen was worried. She knows my lower back is weak and she knows that I have a marathon in the works. She kept offering to take Rosie and she kept saying, "I don't want you to hurt your back." I insisted that I was 100% fine! And I felt fine . . . completely fine. But as soon as the race was over and I started to walk, I knew I was in serious trouble. My entire lower back crunched into a spasm and I almost immediately lost my full range of motion.

Obviously, I didn't run yesterday because I couldn't do anything active. I walked a little this morning and I am going to walk again tonight, but I am still very worried. If I cannot run for a week, I don't exactly feel comfortable with the idea of racing a marathon. I know all of the hard work is done, and I know that there is no workout that I can run in the next few days that will make me run a faster time in twelve days, but I at least need the psychological confirmation that I have maintained my fitness by running . . . even if its only easy running.

I am trying not to panic. In the grand scheme of things, this is NOT a big deal. My friend, Jamie, had to miss the Olympic Trials because of an injury. That is something to get upset about. As far as I know, the Grandma's marathon is run every 365 days, and if I cannot make it to the start of this race, I always have Chicago in the fall.

A part of me is still angry, though - I have to be honest and admit that to myself. I have been working extremely hard over the past few months and I want to reap the rewards of that hard work. I am itching to race and let my fitness carry me to a gigantic new PR. I know I am in sub 2:50 shape, and - damn it - I want to run! I've spent months getting up at 4:30AM to train. I've gradually built my miles from 50 to 60 to 70 to 80 to 85! I've stretched religiously. I've iced when I needed to. BUT I have not focused on core strength or staying as hydrated as I should have. Lessons learned. Lesson learned the very hard way.

No tears yet. I am taking this 24 hours at a time. Things have improved in the last 24 hours. My rule of thumb: If I can run after 5 days of rest, then I will pack the car and head to Duluth. If I am still in pain, then it's time to face it, rest and cross-train for a bit, and keep my eyes on Chicago in the fall.

So Much Depends Upon . . .

. . . the final 18 days until I stand at the start of Grandma's Marathon in Duluth - heart pounding against my chest, legs suddenly growing weaker by the second - and the gun roars and I drop my heart on the road, duck my head, and RUN LIKE HELL! Oh wow . . . I am nervous.

But before I dissect my nerves, I want to thank everyone who reads this blog. I have received some of the most encouraging and inspiring words from all of you; I know this may sound really cheesy, but as a lover of language and a religious believer in the power of words, I hold your words dear and close to my heart. When I was struggling to finish my workout on Saturday, I reflected on this space and I knew that I couldn't leave it blank . . . I wanted to fill it with words that captured a successful workout, not words that reported another doomed interval session (and there have definitely been a few of those!). Anyway, I have been keeping this blog for 4 years and when I first embarked on this journey, I was just a 24 year-old kid trying to break 1:30 in the half! What a journey it has turned out to be.

Which brings me to H. In a recent email exchange, H. said something that sung into my ears like poetry. I am not a poet (though this title references one of my favorite poets: William Carlos Williams), but I have always appreciated poetry. One of my friends (a poet and a scientist) deconstructed poetry with this analogy: Science takes something complex and makes it simple, but poetry - POETRY - takes something seemingly simple and makes it complex. According to that kind of logic, running is incredibly poetic :)

H. deconstructed running in this way:

I was coached that every day has a training purpose (hard, easy, long, rest) and if you cannot achieve that daily purpose figure out why you can't, correct it and try it again. Actually, we weren't coached that as much as we were simply broken of our bad habits and quest for padding mileage. The easiest way to achieve it is by actually running hard, actually running easy, actually running long and actually resting. It sounds simple but it goes against the experiences of most runners that have been rewarded by doing more and more. This concept is about developing from one year to the next and the next, not just for a season or year.

That, in a nutshell, explains why H. has successfully coached me on 6 days/week, 6 single runs. We actually run hard, actually run easy, actually run long, and actually rest. Those 4 principles have been the magical ingredients and base over the past 18 months - not a magic mileage number or a specific pace for every run, but cyclically knitting together week after week of HARD, EASY, LONG, REST. Sounds simple, but I find the practice of it tough at times. I recently emailed H. begging him to let me run doubles. I'll get into that conversation some other time!

I do not want to bore anyone with a novel-esque post, so I'll briefly recap last week:

Monday: 0 (rest)

Tuesday: 11.5, including a 4.55 mile tempo run @ 6:03 pace. The pace is deceptive. We had 30 mph winds literally pushing us South down the lakefront path faster than we could turn our legs over.

Wednesday: 13.5 easy, first run ever with an ipod! It was quite relaxing.

Thursday: 11, including 5 x 1 mile @ 6:30 w/1:00 rest, 6:20 w/0:50 rest, 6:15 w/30 rest, 6:10 w/15 rest, 6:00. Our splits: 6:33, 6:20, 6:11, 6:06, 5:52

Friday: 8.5 very easy. I cut this run 1.5 miles short. I felt awful. And tired. And like a wimp. And I knew I had to get up again and run in 11 hours.

Saturday: 12.5, including 6 x 1.25 mile loop and 2 x 1 mile. This is the workout I failed to complete a few weeks ago, but I gutted it out and finished it with a smile (okay, I kid, I kid). All of my mile splits were between 6:03 - 6:13, 30 seconds rest in between everything. This was a confidence boosting workout.

Sunday: FINAL 20!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So far this week:

Monday: 0

Tuesday: 10 easy

Wednesday: 11 miles, including 5 varying the pace among 6:30, 6:15, 6:00. Ran the workout as assigned and came home in 30:47.

Let the countdown to Duluth begin!

The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams
so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.

24 Days, 1:22:50 Half in Practice, and 85 Miles

Well, the title pretty much sums up everything! 24 days until the marathon and I am one nervous runner. Every time I visualize the race, I get little flip-floppers in my stomach. To note that I am hungry for a strong marathon is a gross understatement . . . I am ravenous, starving, insatiable. After the disappointment in Chicago last fall, all I ask my running goddesses is that they greet us with a lukewarm morning and some calm winds. That's basically asking for perfection, but why not start pleading now?

Last week marked a new milestone: 85 miles, including a 1:22:50 half on Saturday. We ran the half in a workout and H. set it up so that Tim and I simulated the marathon. Our goal was to run the first 5 in 32:30 (our goal for the race), then churn out 5 in 31:15 (6:15s), and then smoothly cruise the final 5K @ 6:30 pace.

Here's how it shook out: first 5 in 32:00 exactly. It felt harder than I thought it should have so I immediately started to worry. But as soon as I ditched my long sleeve shirt and hit "start" again, I was mentally in it. Tim took it out hard the first mile and, not knowing what pace we were running, I struggled to keep up so I let him go. In spite of pulling up a little, I still came through in 6:08. I struggled through the final 4, running slightly faster than 6:15 pace (6:11s), but it was the kind of struggle that we feel when our legs are screaming with fatigue from several weeks of hard training. I hit that 5 in 30:53. Tim waited for me and as soon as I turned around, we started the final 5K. We hit 6:25 - 6:27s and they rolled like butter . . . smooth and even. I always forget how "comfortable" sub 6:30s can feel after hitting 6:11s. My main problem now is figuring out the middle 15 miles of the marathon . . . is 6:15 realistic? I am still not confident that it is.

I followed-up that workout with a 20 miler on Sunday and a much needed rest day yesterday. The plan this week is to hit 76-80, all singles, and 6 days :) After that, we start sliding the mileage south . . . and I *love* the taper!! I truly feel like the taper is the final reward for several months of hard work.

Aside from running, things are great right now! I have absolutely no complaints. Final grades have been turned in, I said "no" to teaching summer school, and I am catching up on sleep. While, I am a notorious under-sleeper, an insomniac some might say, but anything around 5 straight hours and I am ready to rock. H. has been warning me to watch the sleep, though, so I have tried - whenever possible - to sneak in 20-45 minute naps; those short naps are quite rejuvenating.

I still have several summer projects to complete, but I enjoy working on them at home or in the coffee shop around the corner. I am totally digging this mini break! I think my June marathon is my best bet for a fast time because as soon as our semester commences in August, I am going straight to the slaughterhouse. I will still be an Assistant Director of the First-Year Writing Program, but I will still be teaching a full load of writing courses. Ugh. But I am not going to think about that chaos just yet. Instead, I am going to fantasize about some kind of 9-5 job that I can find, or maybe I will finally suck it up and strike out on my own and start building my dream career. Whatever I do, I know one thing for sure: I want to put my heart and soul into this running thing and see where it takes me by 2012 :-)

Wheels Are Spinning

While I have not been Debbie Downer lately, I haven't exactly been Debbie Upper either. I'll be the first person to admit that last week had me worried - really, really worried. I was worried that I had suddenly trashed the past 18 months of consistent hard work. I was worried that my legs were completely dead and completely incapable of being revived in time for the marathon. I was worried that I had lost complete control of my body and that I was spiraling - dangerously - downward.

Well, I am relieved to report that my body has surfaced from the trenches - 3 of the 4 pounds that weirdly disappeared last week are happily back in place - and I am feeling 20000000 times better! I took it easy last week when I realized that I was in trouble, but I still harbored that lingering fear that I had not slowed down in time. I am still not completely out of the ground yet, but as the week has progressed, my workouts have gotten faster, my legs have grown fresher, my appetite has gotten bigger, and I have logged more sleep! My glutes, of course, are still screaming, but not quite as loudly as they were yesterday.

Thank goodness, too, because this week is a big week!

I am on track to hit 80 miles this week . . . the most I will have ever recorded on my legs in one week. My Tuesday and Thursday (today) runs were both 12 total, including a fairly brutal fartlek workout with 2 x 1 mile thrown onto the end. I logged 13 peaceful miles yesterday! Yesterday was actually a treat because my twin sister, Anne, joined me for the first 3 before we went our separate ways. It was so lovely to run with her! Colleen (my older sister) was out of commission this week for our usual 4:45AM run/therapy session . . . but she promises that she will be back in action next week.

4 weeks until the big dance. I am so so so so nervous. I just need to stay healthy and make friends with the ice pack. Ice and I are not fond of each other.

As my mom would say, shake out your hands and take a deep breath . . I need to do that!

Pain in the Butt (literally)

So last week went from bad to worse pretty quickly. I dragged on our Tuesday run after getting a deep tissue massage on Monday, and then I barely crawled through my 11 mile run on Wednesday. I survived the workout on Thursday, but I started to feel an ache in my right glute - the same ache that forced me to drop out of the Milwaukee Marathon at Mile 19 in 2005 :( I stretched and iced. I felt better on Friday, but then I felt like running death on Saturday.

The prescribed workout for Saturday was 8 x 1.25 miles @ 6:15 pace with 30 seconds rest. Theoretically, this should be a comfortably hard workout for me, but it quickly turned into a nightmare. I ran the first interval in 7:38 (6:06 pace). I felt confident and great . . . ran the second one in 7:38. Then I started the third one and a fatigue slammed my quads like whiplash. I slowed to 7:55. The 4th rolled painfully in 7:55. And then I did something I haven't done for the past 18 months of my running rebirth: I quit. I looked at H. and finally admitted that I was tired - and not just "tired," but BONE TIRED and dead. I wanted to fall asleep.

H. let me run the next one with my friend Mark and I jogged the loop in 8:17 (6:37 pace). Funny how 6:37 pace felt slow . . . . I would have rallied for joy 2 years ago for 6:37s to feel easy . . . but I'm a different runner now and my running "norms" have undergone a drastic makeover. Maybe I'm getting too greedy, but every time I toe the line, I expect my body to perform. This week has been a stab in the heart because my body said - loudly, clearly, and defiantly - "NO."

H. ran with me on the 6th interval and we ran 7:48 - two seconds faster than the goal pace of 7:50 (yeah - I made the rookie mistake of running the first two waaaay too fast - hence, digging my ditch and falling in face-forward). I would like to report that I walked away happy and proud of myself, but the opposite is true. I worked too hard to run 6:14 pace on that last rep - a clear sign that my legs were begging for a break. I bagged the final 2 intervals and did an easy cool-down.

I cut Sunday's run from 20 to 16 and for the first time all week, I felt remotely human. However, my right glute is an absolute mess and I would be lying if I said that I was not worried. As my legs grew more weary and tired over the last week, my stride and my form got sloppy, and I think that lethal combination (fatigue + sloppy stride) brought back some bad habits, which ultimately triggered the sore glutes.

I am 5 weeks out from my goal race; I have 2 more 20 milers to run, and 3 more weeks of 70+ mileage. I am confident that this is just a speed bump in the training - a speed bump that most runners must endure and cautiously drive over as they race toward the summit. I am acting conservatively and cautiously right now - I want my breakthrough 1:20 half to be the dress rehearsal for the big dance; I don't want to come through this marathon training cycle with just a half PR.

Here's to hoping for good things to come!

Another Win, 76 Miles, and Screaming Quads . . . Taking It Down a Notch

Another week, another win, and a brick wall . . . I'm taking a giant leap backwards this week.

I recovered well after the half - better than expected- and I was even excited to hear that people thought the course was actually 13.22 miles (which would have put me in at 1:19:54). BUT, I am not one to get excited about "what ifs" or to get my hopes up over rumors regarding long courses. In my mind, I was just relieved to hear people chirping that the course was long as opposed to charging that it was short! That race and the time still haven't hit home with me . . . I am finally reaching goals that I have had since I first started turning circles over 20 years ago, but it's hard to believe what has magically come together over the past 18 months.

So last week I hit another 76 mile week - I had a couple of solid workouts, and I capped off the week with a win at the Lemont Quarryman Challenge 10 mile run (I finished in 1:03 exactly and managed to break the course record by 5 minutes; the first mile climbed 100 feet . . . it was BRUTAL . . . the entire course was a roller-coaster), and a Sunday 20 mile run into winds gusting up to 35 mph and rain the size of golf balls. The race on Saturday was not planned - H. decided to have all of us do it as a solid hill workout. I averaged 6:18s over a super hilly course and while I did not feel like I was working particularly hard, I definitely felt the burn in my quads. My legs were still coming out of the previous week's half (whether I felt it or not). It's not surprising that everything came crashing down during Sunday's 20 miler. I was so miserable that I wanted to cry and then walk (in that order), but I kept coaching myself into believing that these kinds of tough runs are what separate the Paula Radcliffes from the rest of us.

I returned home from Sunday's run and spent the rest of the day with the chills, a fever, and a lot of bathroom breaks. B's parents were in town so we went out to eat the night before at a fun Mexican restaurant and something that I ate completely disagreed with me. After my run on Sunday, I mustered up the energy to celebrate Mother's Day with B's mom - she is sooooooo awesome, beautiful, and warm! We had a great time together as a family even though I felt awful the entire time; it was just a rough day.

I took Monday off and got a deep tissue massage. The massage is definitely helping, but I feel more run down now than I can ever remember feeling. I don't have any red flag symptoms of over-training - other than sore quads and fatigue, but I always experience some level of that at this stage in training. My hunch is that the massage - and I haven't had one since October 9, 2007 - released a bunch of toxins and crap that are swimming throughout my body as I write this. I feel kind of flu-like and exhausted.

BUT, all of that said, I am incredibly optimistic. This is all to be expected, especially considering that I have sewn together weeks of 65-77-73-70-58 (race) - 76. I have no idea what kind of mileage I will log this week, but I am not worried about it. My primary goal is to get my legs back so that I can focus on sneaking under 2:50 in a few weeks.

B. took some neat pictures of the race on Saturday - I will try to post a few :)

Palos Half Race Report

I am still experiencing an adrenaline rush over this race. I have never indulged in illegal substances, but I imagine that the kind of "high" that I felt yesterday is the kind of high that most people crave; it was beyond euphoric, not to mention incredibly emotional.

I am not one for suspenseful endings (knowing how something ends never stops me from watching a movie or reading a recommended novel!), so I'll start with the results: I won my first big race, and I extended a 1 minute lead over the first half of the race into a 2 minute lead in the end. I broke the tape (B. saved the bright pink tape!) in 1:20:48 . . . so I averaged 6:10 pace/mile, but this average is slightly deceptive. The course was not "flat and fast" as advertised (but, with the exception of Chicago races, are they ever really flat and fast?) - it was slightly rolling the entire way - out and back - so my splits varied quite a bit.

The day began with B and I arriving around 6:10 AM for a 7:30 AM start. When I went to pick up my bib number, it was missing. I immediately let a negative thought creep into my mind: "So this is how today is going to go . . . " but the minute B. started to see the negativity creep in, he grabbed my reassigned number and shouted, "this is the BEST number ever!" I couldn't help but let some of the pre-race jitters drain from my body . . . I started to laugh and it felt good to brush off the little things and re-focus on the race. (We did see a woman at the start with my original bib number, though! I guess they assigned two numbers 1028).

I warmed up for 10 minutes and felt the usual way one feels pre-race: rusty and stiff and "bad." Fortunately, I know better than to put any weight on how a warm-up feels. I jumped into the starting corral too early because I was worried about having to push my way to the front - I always feel rude and bad pushing my way to the front. I didn't do any more jogging or stretching; I just tried to breathe and relax. I saw one Kenyan woman and a few local stars line up in front of me. For an inaugural race, the director managed to toss together a sweet prize money purse: $1000 for first, $750 for second and so on. That kind of money always brings the Kenyans out :)

The gun went off, and I went out with a 5:50. I knew that was too fast, but I was not laboring in my breathing or in my stride (which actually worried me). I let the Kenyan woman take us through mile 2, but she was extremely hard to pace off of. She would surge, slow down, surge, slow down . . . she literally fartleked an entire half marathon. However, I knew that I could take her. Her breathing was severely labored for 2 miles into a race and her stride looked too rigid. I let her surge and fall back; I stayed steady and relaxed. After we hit mile 2 in 11:59 or so, I never saw her again. From that point on in the race, I ran completely alone . .. which makes this race even more of a shining moment. H. has been reinforcing the importance of biofeedback and of racing relaxed and within myself . . . while STILL staying competitive. I tend to lack an "I want to kick her ass" attitude. H. is trying to make me "mean."

At mile 4, I rolled up by B. - who showed up EVERYWHERE on the course! - and I told him, with a look of worry on my face, "I am going too fast." He yelled back, "slow down!" The people around him thought he was off his rocker, but I did slow down - I slowed down enough to prepare for a solid second half. As usual, I don't collect splits, so I cannot rehash all of them here, but I do remember some numbers.

I ran relaxed to the turn around - somewhere near the 6.5 mile mark. At that point, I could tell that I had at least a one minute lead. I wasn't comfortable with that . .. I know that 6.5 miles is a long way to go in a race and a LOT can happen. I did an internal gut check, and decided, as soon as I hit the 7 mile marker, to run like hell. Because the course was out and back, I spent miles 6.5 - 10 passing people making their way to the halfway mark. This proved to be one of the most amazing racing experiences I have ever had.

While the course itself was kind of boring (a long country road with trees on both sides), I was invigorated by the cheers from the other side of the road. I felt such a kindred spirit among the women who were out there. Sure, a lot of men cheered me on as I raced by, but the women were cheering and screaming as I ran by - I spent 3 miles hearing "You go girl!" and "FIRST woman!!" Chills enveloped my body as I pumped by arms harder and really relished the moment; to hear people cheering like that was so humbling, if not a little embarrassing! I am used to finishing second (and, let's be honest, no one really remembers who finishes second) so this was such a new experience.

(I know this post is disjointed and jumpy - it mimics how I feel right now!)

I dropped a 5:50 at mile 8 and followed that up with a pair of 6:00s . .. I came through 10 in 1:01:11. I hit 11 in 1:07 and change, 12 in the high 1:13s and home in 1:20:48. This is where some post-race disappointment settled in. By mile 11, I knew I had a strong lead and I also knew that I would comfortably break 1:21, but not 1:20. I let myself relax and slow down WAY TOO MUCH. However, I am not going to dwell on that now . . . instead, I am going to enjoy this one and worry about race tactics the next time I lace up the Mizunos and slap on the bib number.

There were three amazing things about this race that I cannot stop thinking about:

1) B. is amazing :) He is the best support team a person could hope for. He zoomed around the course and saw me 5 times . . . every time I saw him, I felt energized and happy. He reminds me why I am so lucky in this world :)

2) The other runners on the course, particularly the other women, were sooooo supportive. I know that I am nothing special in the world of running and racing, but the other runners made me feel like all of my hard work and patience has paid off. As cheesy as this sounds, I was so damn proud to be a woman out there! One woman, she was probably in her mid 70s, came up to me after the race and whispered, "Do you know how many men you beat?!" She was great!

3) My dad, my sister, Colleen (and her three kids), and B. were all at the finish to see me get my first win. I high-fived my dad at the start, but to see him yelling and screaming as I sprinted to the finish still gives me the chills now! He was so proud . . . as a coach and an athlete himself, he knows what kind of work goes into my training (all of the 4:30 AM runs) . . . I told B. after the race that if I never win another race, I will be okay because my dad saw this one and that - that is something - a feeling - that I cannot translate into words.

I have so much more to say, but I will save it for the next entry . . . which may be a painful one since my legs are screaming.

Oh - and just in case you are curious - I used some of my $1000 prize money to take B. on a shopping spree at Patagonia! He got some really cool new clothes :)

Update!

Before I jump into the race, I have a few weeks and workouts to highlight. But before I even go there, I feel the need to apologize for not updating in almost a month. I have been busy teaching and administrating (what kind of word is that?), and, of course, running . . . and running a lot (keep in mind that my definition of "a lot" is anything 60 miles/week and above). Anyway, the craziness of my semester is starting to calm down - leaving me with more time write (and breathe, which I find necessary and good in life).

Historically, I have been a 40-50 miles/week kind of "runner." For the past 18 months, under the magical guidance of H., we have steadily built my mileage to a high of 78. The last 8 weeks have gone something like this: 65, 60, 60, 65, 73, 78, 70 and then this week, a huge fall back week, 58. If someone would have told me several years ago that I would spend 3 weeks in a row making friends with the 70s, I would have laughed. But now I understand just how necessary that kind of mileage - run all in singles and in 6 days/week in my case - is. My legs are stronger than ever and my endurance is gradually increasing.

Last weekend, I knocked out a 20 mile run in 2:17 and the day before that, we did a pretty tough workout (accompanied by 20-30 mph wind gusts). H., his friend, Mike, and I ran a 7.5 mile warm-up, and then we did 5 x 1 mile with 1:00 rest on the track. Our splits were 6:04, 6:00, 5:58, 5:59, 6:01. After that workout - and after last Wednesday's 800s - H. predicted that I would run yesterday's half in 1:20:55. I didn't believe him. My fastest half was 1:23:17, and the lower these times get, the harder it gets to lop off seconds, let alone minutes!

Last Wednesday, we did a pre-race "tune-up": 6 x 800 with 30 seconds rest. We split 2:55, 3:00, 2:53, 2:56 and then H. told me to "go" and I dropped a 2:38 and a 2:44. I think I knew then, too, that I was ready to race.

I will write up a separate race report so that this post does not get annoyingly long!

1:20:48 at Palos Half

Race report coming tomorrow (I am way too tired to recap the race and the past few weeks tonight). This was my first big win, and the best part of the morning was that my father, B., and Colleen and her three children were there to see me break the tape.

My semester ends next week so I intend to re-direct my energy towards updating this blog . . . I cannot wait!

Run, Rosie, Run!

Before I launch into a recap of the past week in running, I thought it would be fun to kick off the entry with a little photojournalism :)

The pictures below were taken at Chicago's Cheetah 5K yesterday. My sister, Colleen, is sick with the running bug and she has been running up a storm lately! Personally, I find her energy contagious, and I am constantly in awe of her dedication to training as she juggles her law career and her three beautiful, amazing, brilliant children! Her oldest daughter, Rosie, is 3, and her next two children, Mr. Mack and Miss Sadie, are almost 2 (twins!). Colleen and I meet up every Wednesday morning at 4:45 AM for an 8-9 mile run . . . we refer to our runs together as our "therapy sessions."

Anyway, Miss Rosie is blossoming into quite the athlete; I am convinced that she is the next Paula Radcliffe or Deena Kastor. She is becoming well known on the race circuit, too. She debuted this past November in the Drumstick Dash and she followed that fabulous and furiously fast debut with a solid showing at Sunday's Cheetah dash. She hung with the big guns (i.e the 4 year-olds!) for the first 25 yards before slightly fading in the final 25 yards. Still, she dusted all of the three year-olds and she showed the big kids why they need to take the little ones seriously. Power to the little people!

Rosie runs in her favorite dress and wins a ribbon!

Grandpa, Rosie, and me. I finished my 15 mile run in time to meet up with my family, run Colleen's final mile with her, and cheer Rosie on! It was a deceptively chilly morning, but considering the arctic temperatures of late, I was psyched to shovel out the shorts and blind fellow runners with my stark white skin (I would scare Casper and he's a freakin' ghost).

AIR ROSIE!!!!! We need to have a talk: clearly, Rosie did not race hard enough if she can go home and exercise her hurdling skills. Future Olympic Steeplechase Star? We might be hearing about Rosie Klein in 2020!

March 31 - April 6 Recap

I'll write up this recap quickly, and I will try to commit to updating my blog several times a week instead of weekly, bi-weekly, monthly . . . or yearly! I'll be the first person to admit that I need to spin the writing wheels as consistently as I spin the running wheels.

Monday: B., my twin sister, Anne, and I ventured out for a hilariously fun 5.8 mile fun run around the neighborhood. Anne and I were laughing so hard at one point that I got serious stomach cramps.

Tuesday: H. and I and the group hit the lakefront for our usual 4.65 mile tempo run. Total run: 10.4 miles. In spite of racing hard on Sunday, I felt fairly fresh and ready to rock. H. and I kept it under control. We averaged 6:15 on the tempo.

Wednesday: 9 miles easy. Treadmill run.

Thursday: INTERVALS! These are the days that have molded me into a runner; I dread them, but I understand all too well why I have to gut them out. H., Adrian, Jeremy and I headed out for a tempo-ish warm-up, and then we pumped out 6 x 800 with 45 seconds rest. H. kept me under control the first 2: 2:54, 2:52. The next 4: 2:49, 2:48, 2:50, 2:49. It's hard to tell from the splits, but numbers 1,3, and 5 were slightly uphill and 2,4, and 6 were slightly downhill. I wasn't running close to these splits this time last year (I was just happy to run 2:59 12 months ago!). Our desert after the 800s? A 1200 in 4:28. I got no rest in between the final 800 and the 1200. H. wanted to make sure that we could replicate Sunday's race in a workout. Total miles: 10.

Friday: SHOOT ME NOW. Dead. Tired. Dead. Tired. 3 miles easy with B. (okay, okay, we actually walked the three miles, but I logged them anyway!).

Saturday: TEMPO with the big boys on our racing team. I think they were trying to drop me, but I hung in there. Actually, the 6:30s and the 6:20s that we hit felt super comfortable. Even the 6:11 felt blissful. BUT the final mile - 6:05 - hurt. Total: 12.5

Sunday: 15 at 6:52 pace. I actually think that I ran over 15, but I am calling it 15. H. would have my head on the chopping block if he knew I ripped those miles faster than 7:00 pace. The sun was smiling, the wind was gently rocking, and I felt good. I drowned in the beauty of the Spring morning and totally lost track of pace, time, etc. However, I need to be more conscious of pace. I have enjoyed almost 18 months of injury-free running. I don't want to risk anything now.

Total for the week: 65+ It's time to gear up for a June Marathon!