I did it. Finally. And it was wonderful. Fed my soul. I thought about how the past six months have been pretty difficult. Then I realized it hasn't been just the past six months. It's probably been years. And years. But after seeking counseling and getting the brain chemicals in line, I finally feel different. As in happier. Calmer. More content. It's the first time I've felt this way. I may have felt these things every now and then...and then as soon as I realized I was feeling them, they were gone.
Now I can deal with things. I can get the kids ready to go somewhere and not freak out. I can try to make new friends and not self analyze everything I do or say. I can let some things go. And I can enjoy my children and my husband. I'm not done by any means, but I do feel like I'm making a start. And after re-reading all these "Day one" or "Getting back on the horse" or "Today is the first day of the rest of my life" crappola entries, I'm happy to realize that there are no starting or ending points. It's just one big day. And I'm loving today.
And I loved the trail. It was pristine. So I gave money to Forest Park Conservancy. If you ever use the trails or visit Forest Park, give them some money. The place is magical.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
Is Closure Ever a Good Thing?
Nope. It's been a whirlwind of activity these last 20 or so days since I began the diet/return to greatness/comeback and today is again day one for the diet.
However, I do think I've reached closure with the injury. Two days after the first Day One, I received Runners' World. I was excited to read Benjamin Cheever's article about his injury. His story read just like mine:
When people don't deal with emotional baggage--whether it's from the stress of every day life or from more serious issues--the body will create real physical pain for the sufferer to deal with. It's all about the Mind Body connection. So, the doctor's name is Dr. John Sarno. I bought the book. I read the book. I nearly fell out of my chair when reading his description of people who suffer from this "syndrome."
So, as soon as I read the book and accepted that this is probably what is going on with me and my hamstring, that nagging pain in my back went away. I shit you not. Almost immediately.
The next thing on the docket was for me to have my last PT appointment. I planned to tell my fantastic PT about my new theory and discovery. But before I could even do that, he sat me down and started a counseling session. He began by saying: "You know, I've been talking to Amy (my fantastic chiropractor), and we both think you have so much on your plate...."
And at this point, I broke down and started blubbering like a big fat baby. I told him everything I'd discovered and he basically concurred. He encouraged me to keep doing my exercises but also deal with any issues in my life. Not looking forward to that.
Then, as I was driving home from Camas(I work there twice a week. Stupid. I know. And a big contributor to mind/body out-of-whackedness), I was in a car accident! Only my worst nightmare. I was the first car in a five car pile-up on the 405. Which means a dummy behind me couldn't stop in time and barreled into another car who then hit me. Then two other cars joined in the party. No damage to me, but 3000 to the car. Good times(tm).
A few days after that I had my big Chi Running Seminar. THE BOMB. I learned a new way to run and I'm amazed by it. Needless to say I've only run two times since then because I still have a lot of fear about running and the injury (it's natural says Dr. John Sarno), but each time I expended very little energy (I wasn't huffing and puffing like I thought I would be) and my legs didn't feel like cement posts. It's great. Get the book. Or sign up. As soon as the heat wave passes, I'm going to start running every day. For now, I've given up on my huge marathon goal. The pressure I put on myself to run a marathon and redeem my earlier failures was probably a big contributor to the injury. I'm just going to run and try to lose some weight. Then I'll sign up for some races.
And, that is that. Although, I am dealing with a 2 year old who is determined to break me. It's his life goal.
However, I do think I've reached closure with the injury. Two days after the first Day One, I received Runners' World. I was excited to read Benjamin Cheever's article about his injury. His story read just like mine:
- Get injured.
- Do research.
- Buy tons of products and services to help solve the problem/injury.
- Become depressed when nothing works.
When people don't deal with emotional baggage--whether it's from the stress of every day life or from more serious issues--the body will create real physical pain for the sufferer to deal with. It's all about the Mind Body connection. So, the doctor's name is Dr. John Sarno. I bought the book. I read the book. I nearly fell out of my chair when reading his description of people who suffer from this "syndrome."
So, as soon as I read the book and accepted that this is probably what is going on with me and my hamstring, that nagging pain in my back went away. I shit you not. Almost immediately.
The next thing on the docket was for me to have my last PT appointment. I planned to tell my fantastic PT about my new theory and discovery. But before I could even do that, he sat me down and started a counseling session. He began by saying: "You know, I've been talking to Amy (my fantastic chiropractor), and we both think you have so much on your plate...."
And at this point, I broke down and started blubbering like a big fat baby. I told him everything I'd discovered and he basically concurred. He encouraged me to keep doing my exercises but also deal with any issues in my life. Not looking forward to that.
Then, as I was driving home from Camas(I work there twice a week. Stupid. I know. And a big contributor to mind/body out-of-whackedness), I was in a car accident! Only my worst nightmare. I was the first car in a five car pile-up on the 405. Which means a dummy behind me couldn't stop in time and barreled into another car who then hit me. Then two other cars joined in the party. No damage to me, but 3000 to the car. Good times(tm).
A few days after that I had my big Chi Running Seminar. THE BOMB. I learned a new way to run and I'm amazed by it. Needless to say I've only run two times since then because I still have a lot of fear about running and the injury (it's natural says Dr. John Sarno), but each time I expended very little energy (I wasn't huffing and puffing like I thought I would be) and my legs didn't feel like cement posts. It's great. Get the book. Or sign up. As soon as the heat wave passes, I'm going to start running every day. For now, I've given up on my huge marathon goal. The pressure I put on myself to run a marathon and redeem my earlier failures was probably a big contributor to the injury. I'm just going to run and try to lose some weight. Then I'll sign up for some races.
And, that is that. Although, I am dealing with a 2 year old who is determined to break me. It's his life goal.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Anatomy of a Recovery: Day One
Even though I've been dealing with this injury since March and have been undergoing therapy, I haven't really felt like anything was ever going to improve. And I realize my really effing bad attitude will not help.
So, today is day one. Day one of the diet. Day one of the exercise. Day one of doing everything I can to get back to my old running self. Here's how Day One is going:
5:30am
Get out of bed only to find that I can't move--my upper neck/back area hurts so effing bad. I can't raise my arms or move my head without pain. At one point I cry big fat hot tears.
5:47am
Eat four advils.
5:50am
Prepare a healthy breakfast of 1/2 cup granola with strawberries, blueberries, bananas. Take the first bite and realize that the fruit tastes like it had been buried in dirt for five days.
5:55am
Spit out granola and prepare half a blueberry bagel. Get the cream cheese out of the fridge. Quickly discover the cream cheese has been at the back of the fridge and has frozen and thawed many times since its purchase. It looks like cottage cheese. I eat it anyway.
Day One is ROCKING!
So, that's how the morning starts. I should also mention The Zit (TM), which is like my new best friend. It arrived last week with a nice hard bump on my chin that escalated into a volcano with a whitehead so large it was practically un-popable. I hugged Owen and not only did it hurt when it brushed his head, but it was so huge that he had to ask: "What the heck is that?" Now it's nice and red and bloody with a scab that I have to fight not to pick off. I am so sexy it hurts right now.
So, last week I did a tiny amount of running with the PT. My homework is do some very light hill running and walking and exercises to strengthen the hammy and stabilize the pelvis (have I told you it's been an unstable pelvis this whole effing time? Thanks to C-sections and not using core muscles at all? Good lord). I was at the point last week where I was going to say eff this and just run again, but he told me not to panic. Obviously he doesn't know me very well.
That's about it from here. I'm hoping to post more regularly so there's a record of my amazing recovery and return to running. The not-running has been so difficult. It's truly been a grieving process, and I don't like it one bit. Here's to recovery!
So, today is day one. Day one of the diet. Day one of the exercise. Day one of doing everything I can to get back to my old running self. Here's how Day One is going:
5:30am
Get out of bed only to find that I can't move--my upper neck/back area hurts so effing bad. I can't raise my arms or move my head without pain. At one point I cry big fat hot tears.
5:47am
Eat four advils.
5:50am
Prepare a healthy breakfast of 1/2 cup granola with strawberries, blueberries, bananas. Take the first bite and realize that the fruit tastes like it had been buried in dirt for five days.
5:55am
Spit out granola and prepare half a blueberry bagel. Get the cream cheese out of the fridge. Quickly discover the cream cheese has been at the back of the fridge and has frozen and thawed many times since its purchase. It looks like cottage cheese. I eat it anyway.
Day One is ROCKING!
So, that's how the morning starts. I should also mention The Zit (TM), which is like my new best friend. It arrived last week with a nice hard bump on my chin that escalated into a volcano with a whitehead so large it was practically un-popable. I hugged Owen and not only did it hurt when it brushed his head, but it was so huge that he had to ask: "What the heck is that?" Now it's nice and red and bloody with a scab that I have to fight not to pick off. I am so sexy it hurts right now.
So, last week I did a tiny amount of running with the PT. My homework is do some very light hill running and walking and exercises to strengthen the hammy and stabilize the pelvis (have I told you it's been an unstable pelvis this whole effing time? Thanks to C-sections and not using core muscles at all? Good lord). I was at the point last week where I was going to say eff this and just run again, but he told me not to panic. Obviously he doesn't know me very well.
That's about it from here. I'm hoping to post more regularly so there's a record of my amazing recovery and return to running. The not-running has been so difficult. It's truly been a grieving process, and I don't like it one bit. Here's to recovery!
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
And to that I say...
So still no resolution on the hamstring. I've been doing trigger point stuff, chiropractic stuff and there is still pain when I run. Even when I'm not running I can feel something going on. So tomorrow morning I'm going to Rebound Physical Therapy in Vancouver to meet with a supposed miracle-worker-with-runners guy. We'll see.
One of the biggest things I hate about this injury that half the time I think I'm making it up in my head and everyone who's been dealing with me thinks I'm a nut job. Which I am but not about this thing.
But for the last three months I've been the injured runner, which is hard to explain to non-runners and runners who never get injured (those mother fuckers). I basically walk around in a cloud of malaise and when someone asks what's wrong, I respond with "I'm not running."
Now mind you, I totally understand I could participate in other exercise. And to that I say fuck you.
Seems like wearing underwear on the outside of clothing improves a person's mood. I may try it out.
One of the biggest things I hate about this injury that half the time I think I'm making it up in my head and everyone who's been dealing with me thinks I'm a nut job. Which I am but not about this thing.
But for the last three months I've been the injured runner, which is hard to explain to non-runners and runners who never get injured (those mother fuckers). I basically walk around in a cloud of malaise and when someone asks what's wrong, I respond with "I'm not running."
Now mind you, I totally understand I could participate in other exercise. And to that I say fuck you.
Seems like wearing underwear on the outside of clothing improves a person's mood. I may try it out.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Update from Depression Central
Running? Not quite. The hamstring situation is very confusing and bizarre. I've got a chiropractic appointment on Thursday to throw down the gauntlet. Might lead me to a "specialist" in Vancouver. Basically after several months of sporadic running, chiropractic treatments and two enormous bars of bittersweet baking chocolate, the hamstring is no better, and maybe even worse.
I couldn't NOT run on Saturday in 70 degree temperatures and at about a mile in, the hammie starts talking. Five minutes later it shut down. I'm identifying the pain/weirdness in colors. When it's serious and threatens to do something bad, it's like a nice dark maroon. When it's just a nag (all day, every day), it's aquamarine, like my birth stone.
So, yesterday was Oliver's 2nd birthday, which also marks our second year in the house and one year six months since I began my "comeback."
Jeffy, stop reading here.
I'm pissed that I haven't reached any of my running goals. I'm pissed that I feel like a quitter and I'm pissed that I have no core strength. And I'm really pissed that I'm not focused enough to get some core strength.
The end. So, I'm pissed, but I am moving forward. Please lord, don't make me become a swimmer.
They don't care. As long as they have stinky lion and glow in the dark bone pajamas, they're fine.
I couldn't NOT run on Saturday in 70 degree temperatures and at about a mile in, the hammie starts talking. Five minutes later it shut down. I'm identifying the pain/weirdness in colors. When it's serious and threatens to do something bad, it's like a nice dark maroon. When it's just a nag (all day, every day), it's aquamarine, like my birth stone.
So, yesterday was Oliver's 2nd birthday, which also marks our second year in the house and one year six months since I began my "comeback."
Jeffy, stop reading here.
I'm pissed that I haven't reached any of my running goals. I'm pissed that I feel like a quitter and I'm pissed that I have no core strength. And I'm really pissed that I'm not focused enough to get some core strength.
The end. So, I'm pissed, but I am moving forward. Please lord, don't make me become a swimmer.
They don't care. As long as they have stinky lion and glow in the dark bone pajamas, they're fine. Sunday, April 26, 2009
Once a...always a....?
God lord I hope so. I'm checking in to give myself a very public pity party. I have no idea why this crap always happens to me. Maybe because I'm a miserable, negative pain in the ass who deserves nothing but failure. I told you it's a pity party. Decide right now whether you're attending. If not, click away, quickly.
I've been going to the chiropractor, who I love. I've been getting the painful Graston (I cried on Thursday when she tried to separate my hamstrings from each other). I've been getting the "massages" that aren't really massages but more like a lot of elbows in the hamstring. And every time I set out for a run the pain comes back. Sometimes worse than others. And it's taken the joy I used to have for running right out of the equation. Now I simply start out and wait for the hamstring to flare and start making mental notes to tell to my chiropractor.
Now a lot of this is my fault. I haven't done a lot of strengthening and as soon as I decided the full marathon was out (yes. I made the decision), I resigned from being a caveman. But seriously, will this thing ever go away? Am I just being a big huge baby?
But then I think about how the chiropractor always seems a little amazed about what is going on with my leg muscles. She brought her assistant in to feel the situation and then told me that she was going to spend the weekend trying to figure out why my quad muscle has moved and now partially wraps around the back of my leg. So I do know I'm not making up the pain. The question is, do I just run through it, or continue to baby it? I do think it's gotten to this point because I have just run through it since getting back on the horse 2 years ago. I can pinpoint at least three separate instances where I pushed too hard when I knew my hamstrings were toast and hurt. I just wanted the glory of sprinting to the top of the hill or getting that 8:20 timed mile.
Whew. This is getting boring. But I'm still in my running clothes. And I'm still sweaty and I just don't know what to do. When it started happening again on my run, I pretty much realized a half marathon now seems just as daunting as the full. I decided not to do it. And that is sad. Because again, I got half way through the training and failed miserably.
As much as I don't want to quit, I also don't want to make it worse. I also don't want to flush 200 dollars down the toilet and not at least try. But do I want to tear it or worse? Or do I want to suck it up, cancel the race and still go to Eugene and be surrounded by people happy to be running and completing their first marathon or hitting their PR or something else that's effing positive? Won't I be miserable? Of course. It's who I am.
So just a whole lot of question marks. So I went to this blog to see what she did. And it made me feel a little better that she made the decision not to run.
It's really breaking my black little heart and I don't know what to do.
Maybe look some more at this guy:
I've been going to the chiropractor, who I love. I've been getting the painful Graston (I cried on Thursday when she tried to separate my hamstrings from each other). I've been getting the "massages" that aren't really massages but more like a lot of elbows in the hamstring. And every time I set out for a run the pain comes back. Sometimes worse than others. And it's taken the joy I used to have for running right out of the equation. Now I simply start out and wait for the hamstring to flare and start making mental notes to tell to my chiropractor.
Now a lot of this is my fault. I haven't done a lot of strengthening and as soon as I decided the full marathon was out (yes. I made the decision), I resigned from being a caveman. But seriously, will this thing ever go away? Am I just being a big huge baby?
But then I think about how the chiropractor always seems a little amazed about what is going on with my leg muscles. She brought her assistant in to feel the situation and then told me that she was going to spend the weekend trying to figure out why my quad muscle has moved and now partially wraps around the back of my leg. So I do know I'm not making up the pain. The question is, do I just run through it, or continue to baby it? I do think it's gotten to this point because I have just run through it since getting back on the horse 2 years ago. I can pinpoint at least three separate instances where I pushed too hard when I knew my hamstrings were toast and hurt. I just wanted the glory of sprinting to the top of the hill or getting that 8:20 timed mile.
Whew. This is getting boring. But I'm still in my running clothes. And I'm still sweaty and I just don't know what to do. When it started happening again on my run, I pretty much realized a half marathon now seems just as daunting as the full. I decided not to do it. And that is sad. Because again, I got half way through the training and failed miserably.
As much as I don't want to quit, I also don't want to make it worse. I also don't want to flush 200 dollars down the toilet and not at least try. But do I want to tear it or worse? Or do I want to suck it up, cancel the race and still go to Eugene and be surrounded by people happy to be running and completing their first marathon or hitting their PR or something else that's effing positive? Won't I be miserable? Of course. It's who I am.
So just a whole lot of question marks. So I went to this blog to see what she did. And it made me feel a little better that she made the decision not to run.
It's really breaking my black little heart and I don't know what to do.
Maybe look some more at this guy:
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
The Caveman Cometh
(huuuuuuuuge sigh)
Such a long story. Such heartbreak. Such pity partying. Such weird dreams. Such becomes such a strange word when you use it a lot.
Weeks ago I went for a 14 mile run. It was going great until mile 10 when I had a sudden attack of IT band-itis. Pain at the side of the knee like a mother fucker. No better words to describe it. Had to run/walk, bite my tongue for four miles. I tried everything to make it stop nothing worked.
Came home. Cried to Michael (keep in mind this is the exact same "injury" and leg that kept me finishing the Portland Marathon a.k.a The Big Running Failure). Then got down to Internet research.
On some random message board, a guy told another guy to "just go get Graston and be done with it." I've done a ton of research on running injuries and have never heard of this. So, I read and read and found some chiropractors in town who can do it. They use stainless steel torture devices.
So I scheduled my first treatment at Hawthorne Chiropractic. We've been doing a lot of Active Release Therapy (ART) and I've had one session of Graston. Both hurt. A lot. I bruised. And I got to wear that sweet tape you may have seen in the Olympics. So I'm now an Olympic-caliber athlete.
So in the past three weeks I've had:
So, what's the deal with the Caveman? The chiropractor recommended that I try the Paleo Diet.
Here's what you can eat: meat, eggs, fruits, vegetables.
Here's what you can't eat: everything, including potatoes.
So I started it two days before my birthday, ignored it on my birthday and also our two days in Lincoln City.
(SIDE STORY: met the lead singer of Air Supply in the elevator while at the coast. I gushed "I love your songs!!" [I truly do]. And the gold digger girlfriend/manager/Yoko Ono told me about his NEW CD where he sings a duet with his daughter. Uh, no thanks. Like that could compare to Making Love Out of Nothing At All??! SIDE STORY 2: I am a Lincoln City 10. If you're ever feeling bad about yourself physically, please get to Lincoln City pronto and feel gorgeous!)
So, the diet. I've been very consistent with it and surprisingly enough I have more energy and am not hungry. I was fully ready to be starving all the time. Why this diet? It's all non-inflammatory food. With all the treatments and leg issues I don't need any more inflammation. I'm doing it for a month. Check back then.
Every night Michael and I have an exchange like this: Did you know cavemen drank vodka? Totally. They grew the potatoes and made that shit all the time. Did you know cavemen invented bacos? Etc. etc.
So one month to D-Day. I plan on upping the mileage and just running right up to the marathon and treating it like my longest run ever.
P.S. It's true. The foam roller actually will stop hurting if you use it consistently. Oh, and a strong core will help with running. Damn you core!
Such a long story. Such heartbreak. Such pity partying. Such weird dreams. Such becomes such a strange word when you use it a lot.
Weeks ago I went for a 14 mile run. It was going great until mile 10 when I had a sudden attack of IT band-itis. Pain at the side of the knee like a mother fucker. No better words to describe it. Had to run/walk, bite my tongue for four miles. I tried everything to make it stop nothing worked.
On some random message board, a guy told another guy to "just go get Graston and be done with it." I've done a ton of research on running injuries and have never heard of this. So, I read and read and found some chiropractors in town who can do it. They use stainless steel torture devices.
So I scheduled my first treatment at Hawthorne Chiropractic. We've been doing a lot of Active Release Therapy (ART) and I've had one session of Graston. Both hurt. A lot. I bruised. And I got to wear that sweet tape you may have seen in the Olympics. So I'm now an Olympic-caliber athlete.
So in the past three weeks I've had:
- ART (3x)
- Graston
- X-ray to determine severity of leg length discrepancy (oh yes! one leg a lot shorter than the other. Got a lift. May be just voodoo medicine)
- Video gait analysis (I run with my legs too close together and my stride is not long enough)
- Painful massage
- Kinsei Taping
- Maybe 8 miles of running total
So, what's the deal with the Caveman? The chiropractor recommended that I try the Paleo Diet.
Here's what you can eat: meat, eggs, fruits, vegetables.
Here's what you can't eat: everything, including potatoes.
So I started it two days before my birthday, ignored it on my birthday and also our two days in Lincoln City.
(SIDE STORY: met the lead singer of Air Supply in the elevator while at the coast. I gushed "I love your songs!!" [I truly do]. And the gold digger girlfriend/manager/Yoko Ono told me about his NEW CD where he sings a duet with his daughter. Uh, no thanks. Like that could compare to Making Love Out of Nothing At All??! SIDE STORY 2: I am a Lincoln City 10. If you're ever feeling bad about yourself physically, please get to Lincoln City pronto and feel gorgeous!)
So, the diet. I've been very consistent with it and surprisingly enough I have more energy and am not hungry. I was fully ready to be starving all the time. Why this diet? It's all non-inflammatory food. With all the treatments and leg issues I don't need any more inflammation. I'm doing it for a month. Check back then.
Every night Michael and I have an exchange like this: Did you know cavemen drank vodka? Totally. They grew the potatoes and made that shit all the time. Did you know cavemen invented bacos? Etc. etc.
So one month to D-Day. I plan on upping the mileage and just running right up to the marathon and treating it like my longest run ever.
P.S. It's true. The foam roller actually will stop hurting if you use it consistently. Oh, and a strong core will help with running. Damn you core!
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
2L2Q
I now have two running mantras that are supposed to help me through the marathon. One is totally lame but did help me through some bad runs.
Run through it--developed during a bad week of runs. Sometimes as I run I only concentrate on how badly things our going. My breathing, my legs, my speed, etc. Believe you me, if there's something to bitch about, I will do it! So during this run I told myself that I just need to run through it, because hopefully in about 3 or 4 minutes, I'll start feeling better. I know there will be some very dark times during the marathon, unless I suddenly become Wonder Woman and/or butterflies start flying out of my rear.
The other mantra came to me on Sunday, as I ran a very short trail run--2 Legit 2 Quit.
How does that song just pop into one's head, you may ask? Well, I'm not ashamed to say that I am probably the only person over the age of 33 who still watches the Real World. One of the guys on the show has been wearing a bracelet that says LEGIT. Which I totally need, BTW. [not so subtle birthday hint right here--march 23rd].
Tangent--why do new songs not incorporate hand movements? I mean, "I would Die 4u?" That's good stuff, people! And 2L2Q with its throat slashing at the end? Priceless!
I was in PA all last week because my grandfather was hospitalized and very sick. Needless to say I didn't run ONE DAY. Maybe because when I got there it snowed 4 inches, and then the high temperature was 22 degrees and my teeth froze in my head and I shouted "How can you live here???!!!" in the hospital parking lot (which is the tiniest parking lot on the planet).
So, after a week off, I'm back in the saddle, albeit with a sore hammy, but people, I am 2L2Q and am looking forward to completing this effing marathon with hair afire.
Peace.
Run through it--developed during a bad week of runs. Sometimes as I run I only concentrate on how badly things our going. My breathing, my legs, my speed, etc. Believe you me, if there's something to bitch about, I will do it! So during this run I told myself that I just need to run through it, because hopefully in about 3 or 4 minutes, I'll start feeling better. I know there will be some very dark times during the marathon, unless I suddenly become Wonder Woman and/or butterflies start flying out of my rear.
The other mantra came to me on Sunday, as I ran a very short trail run--2 Legit 2 Quit.
How does that song just pop into one's head, you may ask? Well, I'm not ashamed to say that I am probably the only person over the age of 33 who still watches the Real World. One of the guys on the show has been wearing a bracelet that says LEGIT. Which I totally need, BTW. [not so subtle birthday hint right here--march 23rd].
Tangent--why do new songs not incorporate hand movements? I mean, "I would Die 4u?" That's good stuff, people! And 2L2Q with its throat slashing at the end? Priceless!
I was in PA all last week because my grandfather was hospitalized and very sick. Needless to say I didn't run ONE DAY. Maybe because when I got there it snowed 4 inches, and then the high temperature was 22 degrees and my teeth froze in my head and I shouted "How can you live here???!!!" in the hospital parking lot (which is the tiniest parking lot on the planet).
So, after a week off, I'm back in the saddle, albeit with a sore hammy, but people, I am 2L2Q and am looking forward to completing this effing marathon with hair afire.
Peace.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
WWSD?
I joined a book club since moving (on up) to the West Side. I'm not sure why, because I would rather watch TV until my face fell off, but a little adult time with some nice women seemed like a good idea. The books so far have been OK, but it's the book we didn't read that has been the Best Book Ever(TM).
Endurance: Shackleton's Incredible Voyage can be described thusly: "Shackleton's third attempt (at reaching the South Pole) involved sailing the Endurance as far into Antarctica as possible, then finishing the expedition on foot. But almost from the beginning the expedition was beset by difficulties." And that's like saying that I dislike the Cowboys a little bit.
(Endurance beset in the Ice)
Don't want to give anything away because you MUST read it, but needless to say they lose the ship, have to camp on an ice floe for months (during winter), are cold and wet and hungry all the time and then finally six of them have to set sail for rescue on a tiny boat in the most turbulent water on the planet. Oh yeah, and then hike across an island that's basically a mountain range. They were gone for over two years.
And there you have it. While I'm running and contemplating quitting because that's what I do, I'll look down at my arm, on which I will have written "WWSD?"
What would Shackleton do?
Oh yeah, had a crappy week of running due to illness, but pounded out 12.25 with an average of 9:47 per mile. Sweet.
Endurance: Shackleton's Incredible Voyage can be described thusly: "Shackleton's third attempt (at reaching the South Pole) involved sailing the Endurance as far into Antarctica as possible, then finishing the expedition on foot. But almost from the beginning the expedition was beset by difficulties." And that's like saying that I dislike the Cowboys a little bit.
(Endurance beset in the Ice)Don't want to give anything away because you MUST read it, but needless to say they lose the ship, have to camp on an ice floe for months (during winter), are cold and wet and hungry all the time and then finally six of them have to set sail for rescue on a tiny boat in the most turbulent water on the planet. Oh yeah, and then hike across an island that's basically a mountain range. They were gone for over two years.
So, of course, after I read the book (and cried like a baby), I rented the A&E movie and Michael and I watched it this week. Michael and I both decided that there was absolutely no way I couldn't finish the marathon after seeing what Shackleton and the crew went through. I think Michael said something like: "They had frostbite, had abscesses on their asses and sailed 800 miles. You're going to be running through Eugene Oregon in May."
And there you have it. While I'm running and contemplating quitting because that's what I do, I'll look down at my arm, on which I will have written "WWSD?"
What would Shackleton do?
Oh yeah, had a crappy week of running due to illness, but pounded out 12.25 with an average of 9:47 per mile. Sweet.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
8.36 and 12 = Pain
Just because I don't post doesn't mean I don't run. Actually, it's kind of more like the opposite. The running is definitely increasing, because (drumroll) I actually paid money for the marathon and booked a motel room.
Try backing out of that. This is something I must do for my life to be complete. I'm not sure why. No, I am sure why. I hate it when someone asks me if I've ever run a marathon. Usually what I say is "I trained for a marathon, but I didn't finish." Anyone who's run any distance will understand the amount of miles that go into marathon training, but they still will only hear the hated, big three letters: DNF.
It's not like I can say:
"I spent months and months training for the marathon running every fucking Sunday morning up at Germantown road mostly by myself and then one day on an average training run with my work peeps I was running down a hill to finish the run and turned my ankle really bad and it hurt and I got up and kept running but my ankle swelled to the size of a grapefruit and I've never had a sprained ankle and had to stop running for at least four if not six weeks and then when I came back I must have been compensating for it because I developed this awful IT band injury about a month or so before the marathon and I researched it and stretched it and even took Vioxx which is now banned which explains a lot doesn't it but I had already paid for the marathon so I had to run it and at four miles in the IT band started hurting but I kept going but about mile nine I could barely bend my leg and I was having trouble stepping over railroad tracks on the course and I hated having to walk and it killed so bad so I stopped at 13 miles came home ate three doughnuts and watched the Eagles and had a pity party and felt like a big fat loser ever since."
It would just take up so much time, right? So anyway, I had small victories this week and last. Last week I did all the running and logged +31 miles. I also ran 10 miles on the Springwater trail with a person I didn't know who I just "bumped" into on the trail. It's one of the nicest things about running--the community. She was also a mom of two small kids, a Weight Watchers lifetimer (oh yes, I am!) and nice enough to engage me in conversation as I tried passing her at the slowest possible pace.
This Friday I had my speed workout. I did mile repeats (just two, don't get excited, Elf) and I am happy to report that although my goal was to average 9:20, I did 8:36 and didn't die. Very happy about that. The next day (yesterday) I ran 12 miles and almost died. Even though I wanted to call it a day at 10, I toughed it out.
Now, if I could please see some weight loss on the scale? What does a person have to do for chrissakes?
It's not like I can say:
"I spent months and months training for the marathon running every fucking Sunday morning up at Germantown road mostly by myself and then one day on an average training run with my work peeps I was running down a hill to finish the run and turned my ankle really bad and it hurt and I got up and kept running but my ankle swelled to the size of a grapefruit and I've never had a sprained ankle and had to stop running for at least four if not six weeks and then when I came back I must have been compensating for it because I developed this awful IT band injury about a month or so before the marathon and I researched it and stretched it and even took Vioxx which is now banned which explains a lot doesn't it but I had already paid for the marathon so I had to run it and at four miles in the IT band started hurting but I kept going but about mile nine I could barely bend my leg and I was having trouble stepping over railroad tracks on the course and I hated having to walk and it killed so bad so I stopped at 13 miles came home ate three doughnuts and watched the Eagles and had a pity party and felt like a big fat loser ever since."
It would just take up so much time, right? So anyway, I had small victories this week and last. Last week I did all the running and logged +31 miles. I also ran 10 miles on the Springwater trail with a person I didn't know who I just "bumped" into on the trail. It's one of the nicest things about running--the community. She was also a mom of two small kids, a Weight Watchers lifetimer (oh yes, I am!) and nice enough to engage me in conversation as I tried passing her at the slowest possible pace.
This Friday I had my speed workout. I did mile repeats (just two, don't get excited, Elf) and I am happy to report that although my goal was to average 9:20, I did 8:36 and didn't die. Very happy about that. The next day (yesterday) I ran 12 miles and almost died. Even though I wanted to call it a day at 10, I toughed it out.
Now, if I could please see some weight loss on the scale? What does a person have to do for chrissakes?
Monday, February 2, 2009
Doryman's Dark
Last Friday on my five-miler, I came across a big fat yellow lab parked in the middle of the road. An older couple in a bright canary yellow mini Cooper also saw the roadblock and circled around to ask me if it was my dog. Ah, no.
But due to its weight, yellow labness, and my expert Dog Whispering techniques, I stopped to help the dog. (This may surprise you, but I also typically hate other people's dogs.) After a couple minutes of ringing bells, we found a nice geezer lady who knew where the dog lived--supposedly. Of course, Dory (the dog) loved this woman because she put dog treats on her curb! Portland kills me sometimes. Also, geezer ladies know everything about everything in their neighborhoods.
By this time another runner and her dog had joined the fray, so me, old lady from the mini cooper, new runner girl (with a Texans hat on! Are you kidding me? A Texans hat? What the F??!!), runner-girl dog and fat ass Dory did a nice slow jog up a couple streets.
As the old lady starts jogging in her obviously non-running shoes, I tell her "You don't have to run! We'll wait for you at the top of the hill."
She says, "I used to be a runner. But now I have a bad knee. Got it from running too much when I was your age."
I tried to downplay my running and not make her long for marathon training and said, "Oh, I just run to keep in shape because I've had two babies."
And she said, "Oh, I can tell you're a good runner. You have a great gait."
And then, just like George Constanza after telling a good joke, I wanted to leave the scene immediately so nothing could ruin that nice moment of an old runner complimenting my gait.
Long story short, another geezer lady told us where Dory lived and we got her home safe and sound. To the son of her deceased owner, who has to put her up for adoption because he's a single guy and works all the time. Totally depressing.
Last note: I did ten miles on Saturday. I did not fuel properly the night before (Did you know pizza and cheesy bread is not a good choice? Me neither!) and did have a hard time finishing it up. I felt like I was hallucinating. I came inside, asked Michael for a Gatorade and he totally made fun of me for sounding pathetic. If I had had any strength I would have kicked his ass off the deck. Instead I sat on the stairs and cried. It was tough, but it's in the books.
Total mileage last week:
Monday: 4.5
Tuesday: 6.5
Wednesday: off
Thursday: off (bad Sarah! Went to the zoo instead)
Friday: 5.0
Saturday: 10
Total mileage this week is looking to be around 33. God help me.
But due to its weight, yellow labness, and my expert Dog Whispering techniques, I stopped to help the dog. (This may surprise you, but I also typically hate other people's dogs.) After a couple minutes of ringing bells, we found a nice geezer lady who knew where the dog lived--supposedly. Of course, Dory (the dog) loved this woman because she put dog treats on her curb! Portland kills me sometimes. Also, geezer ladies know everything about everything in their neighborhoods.
By this time another runner and her dog had joined the fray, so me, old lady from the mini cooper, new runner girl (with a Texans hat on! Are you kidding me? A Texans hat? What the F??!!), runner-girl dog and fat ass Dory did a nice slow jog up a couple streets.
As the old lady starts jogging in her obviously non-running shoes, I tell her "You don't have to run! We'll wait for you at the top of the hill."
She says, "I used to be a runner. But now I have a bad knee. Got it from running too much when I was your age."
I tried to downplay my running and not make her long for marathon training and said, "Oh, I just run to keep in shape because I've had two babies."
And she said, "Oh, I can tell you're a good runner. You have a great gait."
And then, just like George Constanza after telling a good joke, I wanted to leave the scene immediately so nothing could ruin that nice moment of an old runner complimenting my gait.
Long story short, another geezer lady told us where Dory lived and we got her home safe and sound. To the son of her deceased owner, who has to put her up for adoption because he's a single guy and works all the time. Totally depressing.
Last note: I did ten miles on Saturday. I did not fuel properly the night before (Did you know pizza and cheesy bread is not a good choice? Me neither!) and did have a hard time finishing it up. I felt like I was hallucinating. I came inside, asked Michael for a Gatorade and he totally made fun of me for sounding pathetic. If I had had any strength I would have kicked his ass off the deck. Instead I sat on the stairs and cried. It was tough, but it's in the books.
Total mileage last week:
Monday: 4.5
Tuesday: 6.5
Wednesday: off
Thursday: off (bad Sarah! Went to the zoo instead)
Friday: 5.0
Saturday: 10
Total mileage this week is looking to be around 33. God help me.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Serenity NOW!
Last week I had some bad runs. Almost qualified as the worst runs ever, but those hold a special place in my heart. Specifically the one after I ate two tons of tater tots the night before. Mentioning the tater tot debaucle never gets old here at the Run Report.
Last Week
Anyhoo, during one of the horrible runs last week, I gave myself a little pep talk. Self, I said, these are the runs that matter. These are the runs that you'll remember when you're running the marathon. Because if you can suffer through these crappy four miles and not give up after a half a mile, that will help you during any race. My spirit lifted, my pace increased and a freaking geezer roared down the street in her Mercedes and almost killed me. Thus signaling the end of Good Times (TM).
So, last Saturday, after two bad runs, I told myself that I was going to run eight miles if it killed me, and I was going to run as slow as I wanted to. I psyched myself up for it, and lo and behold. Great run. Even averaged 10 minute miles. (tangent: I've busted out the four year old Garmin 201, a.k.a The Brick)
This Week
I took an extra day off (Monday) which brought on some major Catholic guilt. I am really am nervous about the marathon. Every run I take, I ask myself: "Can you do that entire route three more times? Eight more times? Five more times?"
My answer every time: "Fuck no."
Anyhoo, ran on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. Saturday was the long run. I did eight again, although I wanted to bump up to 10. I took some advise from another runner and repeated the eight.
I had a pretty strong run. I was feeling like a million bucks when I rounded the corner to my street. First, the neighbor-who-wants-nothing-to-do-with-me-although-she's-my-age-and-has-a-son-who's-right-between-Owen-and-Oliver-in-age, the very same neighbor-whose-dog-we-saved-when-it-ran-away, blows by me in her Land Rover. After getting pissed all over again about that situation, I kept running.
I passed a woman getting groceries out of her car. Her front door was open. The most ferocious shitzu from hell came screaming out of the house, teeth bared, ready to attach itself to my legs. After cowering in fear, I remembered my inner dog whisperer and told the dog NO! It went back inside.
Now, this is the second time this fucking dog has ambushed me. The lady, obviously a responsible dog owner, said "Bad timing!!" and laughed. Oh my fucking god. Seriously? Won't be so funny when I spray that stupid thing with MACE! Right in its FACE! And be totally FINE with it.
When I got home, Michael came out, saw my face and said, "Geez, I was expecting a smile after that run." I explained and he asked me the size of the dog. Oh, yes. He did.
I just bought What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami and I'm one page into the prologue. I love it. I'll post my favorite tidbits for you.
Tomorrow is speed workout day. At 845am. Time to NUT UP!
Last Week
Anyhoo, during one of the horrible runs last week, I gave myself a little pep talk. Self, I said, these are the runs that matter. These are the runs that you'll remember when you're running the marathon. Because if you can suffer through these crappy four miles and not give up after a half a mile, that will help you during any race. My spirit lifted, my pace increased and a freaking geezer roared down the street in her Mercedes and almost killed me. Thus signaling the end of Good Times (TM).
So, last Saturday, after two bad runs, I told myself that I was going to run eight miles if it killed me, and I was going to run as slow as I wanted to. I psyched myself up for it, and lo and behold. Great run. Even averaged 10 minute miles. (tangent: I've busted out the four year old Garmin 201, a.k.a The Brick)
This Week
I took an extra day off (Monday) which brought on some major Catholic guilt. I am really am nervous about the marathon. Every run I take, I ask myself: "Can you do that entire route three more times? Eight more times? Five more times?"
My answer every time: "Fuck no."
Anyhoo, ran on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. Saturday was the long run. I did eight again, although I wanted to bump up to 10. I took some advise from another runner and repeated the eight.
I had a pretty strong run. I was feeling like a million bucks when I rounded the corner to my street. First, the neighbor-who-wants-nothing-to-do-with-me-although-she's-my-age-and-has-a-son-who's-right-between-Owen-and-Oliver-in-age, the very same neighbor-whose-dog-we-saved-when-it-ran-away, blows by me in her Land Rover. After getting pissed all over again about that situation, I kept running.
I passed a woman getting groceries out of her car. Her front door was open. The most ferocious shitzu from hell came screaming out of the house, teeth bared, ready to attach itself to my legs. After cowering in fear, I remembered my inner dog whisperer and told the dog NO! It went back inside.
Now, this is the second time this fucking dog has ambushed me. The lady, obviously a responsible dog owner, said "Bad timing!!" and laughed. Oh my fucking god. Seriously? Won't be so funny when I spray that stupid thing with MACE! Right in its FACE! And be totally FINE with it.
When I got home, Michael came out, saw my face and said, "Geez, I was expecting a smile after that run." I explained and he asked me the size of the dog. Oh, yes. He did.
I just bought What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami and I'm one page into the prologue. I love it. I'll post my favorite tidbits for you.
Tomorrow is speed workout day. At 845am. Time to NUT UP!
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Ouch
Couple of things:
1) Glad it wasn't a blow out. It did look like it was heading that way.
2) We were basically playing with house money. We probably shouldn't have even been there.
3) Kurt Warner is still a fucking tool.
Tomorrow a bigger and better run report as all my focus now turns to running.
I am proud to report that I ran (a very slow) eight miles on Saturday after two very difficult runs on Thursday and Friday. More on all of that tomorrow.
1) Glad it wasn't a blow out. It did look like it was heading that way.
2) We were basically playing with house money. We probably shouldn't have even been there.
3) Kurt Warner is still a fucking tool.
Tomorrow a bigger and better run report as all my focus now turns to running.
I am proud to report that I ran (a very slow) eight miles on Saturday after two very difficult runs on Thursday and Friday. More on all of that tomorrow.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Update on Band
From the Monkey:
"Oh, and um, America? Really, Sarah. No Sugar Tonight doesn't even sound like America. I'm sorry, but it's best you hear it from me. It's the Guess Who, and I guess this is always where those extra 10 years of classic rock listening I have on you comes into play. "
There you have it.
"Oh, and um, America? Really, Sarah. No Sugar Tonight doesn't even sound like America. I'm sorry, but it's best you hear it from me. It's the Guess Who, and I guess this is always where those extra 10 years of classic rock listening I have on you comes into play. "
There you have it.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Don't Give Me No Hand-Me-Down Shoes
I just love that song by whoever that band is. I also like "No sugar tonight in my coffee." I think it's America. Anyhoo, I digress.
Let's get the obvious out of the way...the Eagles bandwagon is now FULL! Do not attempt to get on, you will be thrown to the street.
Tell me how nuts this scenario is:
Now onto the running portion of our show. Last week was Week One of marathon training for the Eugene marathon. Of course I threw myself into it because I hadn't run for three weeks thanks to Artic Blast 2008. Here's a recap:
Monday--"For Cheese??!!"
Started running and forced myself to run faster because I felt like running 10 minute miles was cheating. I thought I could go faster. So I killed myself for the first half of the run. On my way back, there is a slight hill. It shouldn't even be called a hill, but there is an incline. I had to walk it. And as I'm walking it, I start beating myself up--otherwise known as negative self talk.
Me: "Self, how do you feel right now? Pretty shitty, right? It didn't have to be this way. But no. You thought eating chocolate chips and cheese at night was a good idea. And now you feel like the biggest loser on the planet. For cheese?!! Are you effing kidding me? For cheese??!"
So that became my mantra on the way home.
Tuesday--Speedy Gonzalez (not really)
Tuesday, the plan called for 3 miles with 4X100 meter strides. I thought the "S" was for speed, not strides. Big mistake. So I did some running, got down to the track and my hat was blown off my head. Not a good omen. I did my 4X100 meter sprints and then came back home. Forty five minutes later I realized I probably had done some damage to my quad, as I couldn't descend the stairs.
Wednesday--Rest (cleaned the house)
Thursday--Amber Alert
I've been trying to get Amber to do this marathon with me, and if not the marathon, at least a good number of training runs and definitely my weekend long runs. She and I headed up to the zoo and did a nice 35 minute trail run in the rain. It was fantastic to run on the trail.
One thing I learned about Amber, when she crests a hill that has just kicked both our asses, she prefers to keep running. Me? Not so much. I prefer to lay down and catch my fucking breath and do a lot of swearing. Anyhoo, great run, great company!
Friday--Rest again
Saturday--Big Stumping
Amber agreed to a long run! I was supposed to go 8 miles, but Amber only wanted to do six and I was still nursing the leg issue. So, six it is!
We drove up to Wildwood Trail at Germantown road and began the run. We did a run from the very nice box of Forest Park hikes and runs (it makes a great gift) called The Big Stump.
Here's typical conversation (keep in mind I run in front. It's how I roll, people.)
Me: Whew, I'm tired. I should slow down.
Amber: Then slow down.
Me: OK (not slowing down AT ALL. So weird!)
We saw the Big Stump. Not as impressive as the old growth trees I've seen on another run, but pretty big nonetheless. However, definitely not as big as the freaking 1/2 mile hill we had to walk up to get back to the trail.
Then, on the seventh day I rested again. Ran 5.25 miles on Monday and 4.75 today. Feeling pretty good. Getting in the miles.
And so, we are all caught up. Remember, fly eagles fly!
Let's get the obvious out of the way...the Eagles bandwagon is now FULL! Do not attempt to get on, you will be thrown to the street.
Tell me how nuts this scenario is:
- Bucs (playing Raiders) and Bears (playing Houston) must lose. CHECK!
- Eagles must beat the Cowboys to get a Wild Card spot! Double CHECK with an ass whooooooping as an extra bonus. Sorry Romo, you STILL SUCK!
- First round Eagles must travel to Minnesota to face the leagues best rusher and a stout defense and win. CHECK! Sorry Brad Childress, you suck.You too, ALL DAY. Whatever.
- Second round, Eagles must play the supposed "best team in the league" (take that you ESPN knobs! Eli SUCKS!) at the Meadowlands in 30 degree weather with a serious wind and win. CHECK!!
Now onto the running portion of our show. Last week was Week One of marathon training for the Eugene marathon. Of course I threw myself into it because I hadn't run for three weeks thanks to Artic Blast 2008. Here's a recap:
Monday--"For Cheese??!!"
Started running and forced myself to run faster because I felt like running 10 minute miles was cheating. I thought I could go faster. So I killed myself for the first half of the run. On my way back, there is a slight hill. It shouldn't even be called a hill, but there is an incline. I had to walk it. And as I'm walking it, I start beating myself up--otherwise known as negative self talk.
Me: "Self, how do you feel right now? Pretty shitty, right? It didn't have to be this way. But no. You thought eating chocolate chips and cheese at night was a good idea. And now you feel like the biggest loser on the planet. For cheese?!! Are you effing kidding me? For cheese??!"
So that became my mantra on the way home.
Tuesday--Speedy Gonzalez (not really)
Tuesday, the plan called for 3 miles with 4X100 meter strides. I thought the "S" was for speed, not strides. Big mistake. So I did some running, got down to the track and my hat was blown off my head. Not a good omen. I did my 4X100 meter sprints and then came back home. Forty five minutes later I realized I probably had done some damage to my quad, as I couldn't descend the stairs.
Wednesday--Rest (cleaned the house)
Thursday--Amber Alert
I've been trying to get Amber to do this marathon with me, and if not the marathon, at least a good number of training runs and definitely my weekend long runs. She and I headed up to the zoo and did a nice 35 minute trail run in the rain. It was fantastic to run on the trail.
One thing I learned about Amber, when she crests a hill that has just kicked both our asses, she prefers to keep running. Me? Not so much. I prefer to lay down and catch my fucking breath and do a lot of swearing. Anyhoo, great run, great company!
Friday--Rest again
Saturday--Big Stumping
Amber agreed to a long run! I was supposed to go 8 miles, but Amber only wanted to do six and I was still nursing the leg issue. So, six it is!
We drove up to Wildwood Trail at Germantown road and began the run. We did a run from the very nice box of Forest Park hikes and runs (it makes a great gift) called The Big Stump.
Here's typical conversation (keep in mind I run in front. It's how I roll, people.)
Me: Whew, I'm tired. I should slow down.
Amber: Then slow down.
Me: OK (not slowing down AT ALL. So weird!)
We saw the Big Stump. Not as impressive as the old growth trees I've seen on another run, but pretty big nonetheless. However, definitely not as big as the freaking 1/2 mile hill we had to walk up to get back to the trail.
Then, on the seventh day I rested again. Ran 5.25 miles on Monday and 4.75 today. Feeling pretty good. Getting in the miles.
And so, we are all caught up. Remember, fly eagles fly!
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