May 30, 2006
this morning: 13 miles at an embarrassingly slow pace, but there were some good things about it. I finally learned the name (Sadie) of the Irish setter whose owner has been wishing me good morning and have a nice day for the past year. I held off stopping home for water until it was full-on light, and by then I'd run almost 8.5 miles. And it felt pretty good. If I'm going to go slow, then it damn well better feel good.
this afternoon: 6 miles on the treadmill at the gym. 6 is my absolute limit; any more and I'd die of boredom, even with headphones and my choice of local and national news programs on TV. As I left work I really really really did not want to do this at all and considered calling super head-coach on the new employer-issued cellphone* to whine until he agreed to let me take a pass. But he did not answer, so I went over to the gym and called again, and he did not answer, so I changed into running clothes and called again, and he did not answer so I had no choice but to run the 6 miles, and it turned out not to be bad at all. The pace was respectable and I wasn't overly tired or sore, and by the time the weather was done on the last local news before network evening news, I had racked up 19 miles for the day.
*My boss wanted me to have a cell phone and lo, I have one. I've never had one before and don't know how to work one because it doesn't speak SQL or visual basic or DOS or shell-scripting language. After much reading I figured out how to set up voice mail, add mike as a contact, send a little email ("hi"), and put the damn thing in manner mode, where it will stay.
May 29, 2006
since you asked
the full contents of yesterday's suicide spam:
From: creighton nerehiza [email@example.com]
To: joe positive's real email address
the actual come-on was in the form of a gif attachment
previous attempts to find comforting arguments, need to revive a whole chain of thought to find the feeling. Now, on the contrary, the feeling of joy and peace was keener than ever, and thought could not keep pace with feeling. He walked across the terrace and looked at two stars that had come out in the darkening sky, and suddenly he remembered. "Yes, looking at the sky, I thought that the dome that I see is not a deception, and then I thought something, I shirked facing something," he mused. "But whatever it was, there can be no disproving it! I have but to think, and all will come clear!" Just as he was going into the nursery he remembered what it was he had shirked facing. It was that if the chief proof of the Divinity was His revelation of what is right, how is it this revelation is confined to the Christian church alone? What relation to this revelation have the beliefs of the Buddhists, Mohammedans, who preached and did good too? It seemed to him that he had an answer to this question; but he had not time to formulate it to himself before he went into the nursery. Kitty was standing with her sleeves tucked up over the baby in the bath. Hearing her husband's footstep, she turned towards him, summoning him to her with her smile. With one hand she was supporting the fat baby that lay floating and sprawling on its back, while with the other she squeezed the sponge over him. "Come, look, look!" she said, when her husband came up to her. "Agafea Mihalovna's right. He knows us!" Mitya had on that day given unmistakable, incontestable signs of recognizing all his friends. As soon as Levin approached the bath, the experiment was tried, and it was completely successful. The cook, sent for with this object, bent over the baby. He frowned and shook his head disapprovingly. Kitty bent down to him, he gave her a beaming
A beaming what? Guess I'd better pull the book off the shelf and give it another (re)-read.
So the actual sell was a gif which I didn't have to look at, while the text was more Anna Karenina (I get a lot of Tolstoy spam lately). I like it more and more.
This morning: I could not face a ten-miler, whatta wuss, so I decided that this recovery day would be 6 + 4. The six was warm and slow, and the four was hot and sunny and slow. But at least it was breezy. Glad to get it done, anyway.
May 28, 2006
o frabjous day!
being my friend Ray's birthday, this gentleman's marathon raceday, and Sunday longrunday all rolled into one! And a day off work tomorrow, so I can lay about all the rest of this day without much guilt at all.
This week was a gutwrenchingly slow 92 miles, as:
Su: 20.06mi (8:17)
M: 8mi (9:43)
- sleep deficit starts here, a bit early -
T: AM 14mi (9:23), PM 4mi (8:32) + 15min elliptical (1.87mi).
W: PM 10mi (8:00), with Mike and Ray and Aaron, a newly-minted HS grad whom Ray coached in xc. This in the hot hot sun. Felt good, got sick after we finished, yeah!
R: AM 10mi (9:38)
F: 12.15mi (9:12), alarm didn't go off in time to do slow-ass 14, did slow-ass 12 instead
Sa: 14mi (8:46)
Despite the slow paces, this week felt better than last week's 85. Maybe I'm getting used to this. On the other hand, it's gotten damn hot; my feet still hurt, especially when I'm tired (PF on the right, neuroma on the left); I'm never not tired. A few times this week I tried running a little faster just to prove to myself I still could, but mostly I just get out there and trot away anymore. I read about Duncan Larkin's way-over-100-mile weeks (with lots of singles) and simultaneously think I should suck it up and stop whining, and I should hang it up altogether for there is no hope. There are 6 weeks left to this buildup, and it's hard not to lose sight of the point. I just hope I'm not running myself into the ground for nothing.
This morning I recived the following spam: "suicide is the most sincere form of self criticism." Awesome!
Lest anyone think this is a negative post: it's not. I'm actually happy as a clam. A clam whose feet hurt.
May 21, 2006
god called. all is forgiven.
Plain and simple: I had a really shit week as far as running went. I got the miles, but o! at such a cost. Slow, slower, tired, a bit faster, slow as hell, slower even, sore all day and into the night. Nelecting to return calls and emails, neglecting anything that wasn't running, work, or sleep. I ran a bit over 85 miles, as:
Su: 18.01mi (8:08)
M: 8.02mi (9:25), yup
T: AM 9.5mi (9:11), PM 5.5mi (8:32) plus 15min elliptical, 15min stair machine
W: PM 10mi (8:25), with Ray and super head-coach
R: 8mi incl 10x100m strides, avg pace still so slow I'm not gonna say
F: 12.4mi (9:16), supposed to be 14 but I'm so slow I couldn't finish without being very late to work
Sa: 14mi (8:46), the run I was supposed to do Friday. Sore from knees to feet every step of the way.
total 85.4 miles + 30min xtraining
When I got in from the 14 yesterday my first thought was "I can't do 20 with the guys tomorrow. I'll never keep up." My second thought was, "I sure as hell don't want to 'run' 20 alone when I feel this shitty, either." Even after a 90-minute nap I still felt bad, and my legs were tight and sore all day and all night and even while I was sleeping.
Somehow all that changed during this morning's 20. For one thing, my legs didn't hurt. We also kept the pace moderate for the first half instead of goading each other into stupidity early on, and this really paid off at the end of the run - I was glad to be finished but I felt good and (relatively) strong, not like I was just limping in.
I almost always run more slowly when I'm alone, and this mileage buildup just makes matters worse. The twice-weekly runs-with-company are like a lifeline; without them I'd probably be discouraged to the point of depression. I'm so lucky that my job allows me to do this. I'll probably write that a million more times during the next few months.
At my old job I worked with two people from Poland who would say "thanks god" instead of "thank god," as in "that car almost hit me but swerved just in time, thanks god." I always liked that.
Next week: 92 miles. We'll see if I'm still saying thanks god at the end of that.
May 14, 2006
brief recap: 80 miles, as
Su: 18mi (8:11)
M: 8mi (9:02) with a chest cold.
T: AM 7.5mi (9:02), PM 4.5mi (8:20), thunderstorm cut short the 12-miler so I had to make it a double
W: PM 9mi (8:13) with Ray and super head-coach
R: AM 11mi (8:55) incl 8 of the slowest 100m strides ever
F: 10mi (8:55) beautiful weather, but I was tired
Sa: 12mi (8:25)
And on into next week: this morning I ran 18 at 8:08 pace with Albert; the other half of our Sunday pack was absent. There was nice dry weather still hanging around from the recent cool front, but I had massive annoying heartburn which made parts of the run pretty unpleasant. My stomach was so sour I even bypassed the usual post-run breakfast, and I was cold in the 72-degree weather (goosebumps even). So I drove home, climbed into bed and slept until I was warm again. Much better now, and I was even able to eat some junk food a little while ago. I'll live :-)
Other exciting news:
Bought a pair of training shoes sight-unseen and ran 12 miles in them yesterday. Quelle brave!
SuSE 10.1 was released Thursday! I will wait for everyone to report on bugs and what have you, then probably upgrade during the next 3-day weekend.
I actually get 3-day weekends!
May 10, 2006
again in the park with Ray
9 miles this afternoon with my friend Ray and my husband, super head-coach Mike (my friend Al, who's Dutch, referred to him in an email as "head-coach" and I can't figure out if the hyphen was intentional or not). We ran from one park along a rails-to-trails to another park, round that thing and then back again. It was in the upper 80s when we started and a little cooler than that when we finished. If I'd run this alone, I'd have been happy to see an 8:40 in there somewhere, but today we were tripping along mostly between 7:45 and 8:15, with some slower and some faster. I don't know why I run so slowly so much of the time.
The various aches and pains on the right side seem to have packed up and migrated to the left. During the run I noticed my left glute and hip were pretty darn sore. The pain was much more bearable due to the happy amazement that it wasn't my right hip anymore.
May 8, 2006
someone has whacked me between the shoulder blades
Today: 8 miles, starting out slow but gaining momentum to "easy." I have a chest cold, the first in years. It came from someone at my work. I ran trying to see if belly-breathing could somehow bypass the concrete slurry in the upper part of my lungs; since I'm not in the coughing-fit phase it was pretty much ok. The congestion actually kept me from going as fast as I wanted to, which was faster than I should. The rest of the day I felt pretty darn uncomfortable, so I'm glad I got that run in when I did. The usual aches and pains seem to be improving, or maybe the cold is just demanding more attention. I once "cured" a cold by getting a horrible sunburn; maybe this cold will cure plantar fasciitis.
May 7, 2006
every raw material at hand
For the past couple of weeks I haven't felt much like writing about running. I haven't stopped running, just haven't been able to find anything interesting to say about it. My work schedule is forgiving enough that I can run with friends two days a week instead of once every six weeks. The PF in my heel still lingers, improving by 1 or 2% per week but still there, especially after a hard run. In the spirit of that sucky 5-miler a few weeks ago, I ran a resoundingly mediocre 10K as part of a triathlon relay last weekend, and insult-to-injury it took two and a half days to recover.
So this week, riding the crest of all this mediocrity, I started the buildup for that marathon at the end of September. I ran 73 miles, all of it slow-to-middling. Next week I'll run 80. Sometime in June I'll get to 100 and try to sustain that for 4 or 5 weeks without anything shattering or falling off, then cut back the volume and try to get strong. During this period (says super head-coach Mike) there will be no racing or other foolishness, only strides. When you're not a fast runner, a big base is the only hope. Still, I wish I had a couple of good short races under my belt before starting this training.
I really gotta stop being so negative.