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!

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.

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.

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:

1. Bucs (playing Raiders) and Bears (playing Houston) must lose. CHECK!
2. 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!
   
3. 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.
   
4. 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!!

So, it's been a glorious ride, however, I am a bit nervous because everyone is picking us to win. And when I say us, I mean me too. I'm an integral part of this team. Anyhoo, fingers crossed.


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!