This is the fourth post of the day, as I'm catching up on my weekend. Just prior to this post is a three-part series about our backpacking trip on Shasta Bally.
After years of doctor's visits, I can tell you that it's just as important to have a doctor with similar priorities as well as one that is smart. Today, I visited my new M.D., to get established as a patient, and to have my knee (and nose!) looked at. I was hoping for some new stretching/strengthening exercises, a confirmation on the ITBS (because I thought it could also be a torn meniscus), and possibly for her to say I need custom orthotics and where I could get them.
Five Ways To Tell You Need To Find a Different Doctor :
1. After detailing my symptoms and my voicing my suspicion that I had IT Band Syndrome, the doctor asks what I've been doing to manage it. I mention my foam roller. She then proceeds to ask me how one goes about using it, asking if I sleep with my leg propped up on it to get it to work. Clearly, she has no idea what I'm talking about. I mention that I roll my leg over it to massage the muscles, her face is twisted into a big question mark.
2. She says that marathon running will require a knee replacement when I'm older, no matter how much or where I run. Then she goes to suggest I switch all my miles to an outdoor track somewhere. Twenty miles on a track is what, 80 laps? That's a surefire way to encourage me to quit.
3. Then she asks if I'm afraid of osteoporosis because I'm a female runner of smaller size. Umm... doesn't a weight bearing activity, such as running, actually strengthen the bones? Funny, that's what I've always been told.
4. "Do you ever miss your period because you exercise a lot?" "No." "Is it regular?" "Umm.. yes." (Didn't I already answer that question?)
5. "If it hurts for you to run, don't do it." Yeah, like that's helpful.
Then the doctor proceeds to try and talk me out of running altogether. Aren't doctors supposed to encourage patients to exercise? Nowhere in our chat did I detail my running regimen, just that I run marathons. Just as she judged me when she walked in and thought, "she runs too much", I judged her. I left the office nearly crying tears of frustration. I hope she's more helpful to her other patients.
While I'm visiting with the World's Most Unhelpful Doctor, Matt was visiting with the Running Dr From Heaven. He actually got useful suggestions : new stretches, ice, cutting back mileage every few weeks. I think that I'm switching to his MD, what do you think? Do you see a Sports Med specialist for running injuries?
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Shasta Bally Backpack, Day 3
How does our hair look? Three days of hats and wind coifs it beautifully, non?The final miles back to the car passed reasonably quickly, even though my right knee's IT band screamed at each step. My nose was completely swollen and it gave me a terrible headache. Matt and I decided to skip our plan to backpack the final night and head home. Not before a trip to Redding, a mere 10 minutes away, for Dairy Queen, lunch, and a little shopping.
Heaven on Earth : Double Fudge Cookie Dough Blizzard
Shasta Bally from Redding.On our drive home, we passed Whiskeytown again. Feeling much more lucid after my pain killers, we decided on one final hike, since it was warm and sunny 70 degrees. We chose the Oak Bottom Ditch Trail, the one we did a few months ago, but this time it was packed with people. Matt never gets holidays off, let alone entire holiday weekends, so it was kind of fun to see what all the "normal" people did on their long weekend. We also caught views of some wildlife.
Things I learned on this trip :1. My fitness breaking point. For some reason, I've been really interested in finding out what it takes to make me REALLY REALLY TIRED. The answer is : about 3 days of backpacking right after a 14 mi trail run.
2. I never knew why people wore scarves around their necks in the summertime. Wouldn't it make heat worse? For me, it gets rid of that disgusting sticky hair-on-the-neck thing.
3. Punching myself closed-fisted in the face just does not feel good.
Hope you enjoyed your weekend!!!
Shasta Bally Backpacking, Day 2
Up with the sun at 5:30am, Matt went to get our bear barrel and cook breakfast. Minutes later, he was back in the tent and we were both asleep. By 9am, finally warmer and the wind had subsided, we decided it was probably time to get up.
By 11am, we finally broke camp, really late by our usual standards. My stiff legs ached with every upward stride. We stopped for a snack at that same beautiful overlook area.
When Matt put his pack back on, one of his outer straps had come loose. At my eye level, I tugged on the loose cord. There wasn't much slack, so I had little to grab hold of and had to pull swiftly. One brute tug later, I lost my grip and smacked myself, closed-fisted, square between the eyes. The world went black for a moment and I nearly fell over. Doubled over, hands on my face, I checked for blood, certain that I had broken my nose. Nothing. Well that was a relief. My nose quickly swelled up and caused a headache. I'm glad I had packed ibuprofen, because it hurt a LOT.
About an hour later, and up another 1,500ft., we hit our first patch of snow. The snow was packed, but the sun melted a glossy, slippery layer on top. It was difficult to navigate and stay upright with the heavy pack. I much prefer deep snow. We chose to hide our packs in nearby bushes and summit with just the essentials.
The climb to the top was all snow-field and difficult to follow with all the Moto-Neige tracks stopping and turning around. The driver had clearly gotten lost several times before making it to the top. He never did find the road. This was our first backpack trip with cell phone coverage. We sent a text message to my sister, via Tracfone : Hey I'm writing you from a mountain top!" We could see in every direction. Storm clouds brewed in the west and sunny Redding in the east. Sailboats meandered around Whiskeytown Lake, seemingly unaware of the approaching storm.
My favorite part of the day was our descent through the snow : a glissade in rain pants. It took us 1/4 the time to go down. In our Alaska backpacking experience, we pretty much had mastered the different types of terrain (muskeg being my least favorite---ugh!). The sandstone? mountains here rendered our skills useless. The only one we did use was the rain pants slide. :) It was so much fun!!!!
Hail pelted us just after we were reunited with our backpacks. I was glad to have my rain coat for that part. We saw the clouds darken and lower. If this were Oklahoma, that lowering cloud and nearby scud clouds would indicate a tornado was brewing. The panoramic views of the storm passing just to our north was like watching a movie plot unfold. Matt told me later that he hoped for a tornado, just to see one form in real-time, from a safe distance.
We had significantly under-estimated our fitness when we reached the previous night's camping site, just two miles from the car. Usually we are SLOW, and expected to be slower with the run beforehand. YAY MARATHON TRAINING! Between that and the Six Week Six Pack and 30-Day Shred, the backpack didn't produce any really sore spots. Typically, I'd fall asleep with a sore back, but I just awoke with a somewhat stiff one. The stiffness quickly went away too. We decided to stop and camp for the night before deciding what we'd do for the rest of the weekend.
Drying the rain gear on nearby downed trees, we enjoyed some quiet rest-time in the sunshine before it got dark.
By 11am, we finally broke camp, really late by our usual standards. My stiff legs ached with every upward stride. We stopped for a snack at that same beautiful overlook area.
When Matt put his pack back on, one of his outer straps had come loose. At my eye level, I tugged on the loose cord. There wasn't much slack, so I had little to grab hold of and had to pull swiftly. One brute tug later, I lost my grip and smacked myself, closed-fisted, square between the eyes. The world went black for a moment and I nearly fell over. Doubled over, hands on my face, I checked for blood, certain that I had broken my nose. Nothing. Well that was a relief. My nose quickly swelled up and caused a headache. I'm glad I had packed ibuprofen, because it hurt a LOT.
About an hour later, and up another 1,500ft., we hit our first patch of snow. The snow was packed, but the sun melted a glossy, slippery layer on top. It was difficult to navigate and stay upright with the heavy pack. I much prefer deep snow. We chose to hide our packs in nearby bushes and summit with just the essentials.
The climb to the top was all snow-field and difficult to follow with all the Moto-Neige tracks stopping and turning around. The driver had clearly gotten lost several times before making it to the top. He never did find the road. This was our first backpack trip with cell phone coverage. We sent a text message to my sister, via Tracfone : Hey I'm writing you from a mountain top!" We could see in every direction. Storm clouds brewed in the west and sunny Redding in the east. Sailboats meandered around Whiskeytown Lake, seemingly unaware of the approaching storm.
My favorite part of the day was our descent through the snow : a glissade in rain pants. It took us 1/4 the time to go down. In our Alaska backpacking experience, we pretty much had mastered the different types of terrain (muskeg being my least favorite---ugh!). The sandstone? mountains here rendered our skills useless. The only one we did use was the rain pants slide. :) It was so much fun!!!!
Hail pelted us just after we were reunited with our backpacks. I was glad to have my rain coat for that part. We saw the clouds darken and lower. If this were Oklahoma, that lowering cloud and nearby scud clouds would indicate a tornado was brewing. The panoramic views of the storm passing just to our north was like watching a movie plot unfold. Matt told me later that he hoped for a tornado, just to see one form in real-time, from a safe distance.
We had significantly under-estimated our fitness when we reached the previous night's camping site, just two miles from the car. Usually we are SLOW, and expected to be slower with the run beforehand. YAY MARATHON TRAINING! Between that and the Six Week Six Pack and 30-Day Shred, the backpack didn't produce any really sore spots. Typically, I'd fall asleep with a sore back, but I just awoke with a somewhat stiff one. The stiffness quickly went away too. We decided to stop and camp for the night before deciding what we'd do for the rest of the weekend.
Drying the rain gear on nearby downed trees, we enjoyed some quiet rest-time in the sunshine before it got dark.
Shasta Bally Backpack, Day 1
My heart pounded. Sweat poured from everywhere. Streams of perspiration trickled down my arms. Backpacking at 65F sure is WARM, I thought to myself. The intense climbing didn't help. Why don't I ever choose easy trips?
When Matt and I discussed what to do on the holiday weekend, he mentioned backpacking. Since purchasing our year pass to Whiskeytown, it seemed logical for us to spend our four-day weekend there. We're not much a fan of crowds, especially holiday ones, so we looked for something that was total isolation. In Whiskeytown, that could only mean one thing : UP.
Shasta Bally is the highest peak in Whiskeytown Unit and at 6,200 ft high, (the hike gains 4,400 ft.) is the highest point for miles around. "I've never climbed a mountain that high," I remarked to Matt as we stopped about 10 minutes in, drenched in sweat, to see how high this mountain REALLY was. We climbed higher and higher up the gravel service road. It was hard to believe a truck could make it up this steep incline, sometimes half washed out with deep rutting.
On the tails of a hilly, three hour trail run the previous day, our hike felt harder than it should have. At first, we had to stop every few minutes to catch our breath.
As we climbed higher, the air cooled. 65, 64, 63, down to 60 when we finally found a spot to camp that was large enough to tent upon. Removing the pack sent an icy breeze across my sweat-soaked back. Brrr! We continued up the road sans-packs, looking for a better campsite. Nothing. But the trees gave way to sweeping panoramic views of Whiskeytown Lake, Redding, and a very faint outline of Mt Shasta.
We also came upon a truck carrying a vehicle that I only know by it's Quebecois name Moto-Neige. It's like a car, but with bulldozer tracks instead of wheels. "Must still be snow all the way up top," Matt speculated, as the truck descended the hill at half the speed it took us.
Trail mix stirred into my chocolate oatmeal. What's your trail dessert?
The wind kicked up and we retreated to the tent just after supper. I definitely wasn't used to this much time on my feet. I half planned to run myself ragged for the weekend, to see if I could do it. That's how a lot of marathon plans run : two hard days back-to-back. The end of day two and I'm about ready to wave the white flag.
As we lay there in our not-quite-level tent chatting away, Matt said, "I have a feeling you're going to roll onto me by morning."
I cheekily replied, "Isn't it every man's dream to wake up with a woman on top of him?"
"It doesn't have the same effect when there are two sleeping bags and lots of clothes in between."
"Oh, well, Goodnight."
When Matt and I discussed what to do on the holiday weekend, he mentioned backpacking. Since purchasing our year pass to Whiskeytown, it seemed logical for us to spend our four-day weekend there. We're not much a fan of crowds, especially holiday ones, so we looked for something that was total isolation. In Whiskeytown, that could only mean one thing : UP.
Shasta Bally is the highest peak in Whiskeytown Unit and at 6,200 ft high, (the hike gains 4,400 ft.) is the highest point for miles around. "I've never climbed a mountain that high," I remarked to Matt as we stopped about 10 minutes in, drenched in sweat, to see how high this mountain REALLY was. We climbed higher and higher up the gravel service road. It was hard to believe a truck could make it up this steep incline, sometimes half washed out with deep rutting.
On the tails of a hilly, three hour trail run the previous day, our hike felt harder than it should have. At first, we had to stop every few minutes to catch our breath.
As we climbed higher, the air cooled. 65, 64, 63, down to 60 when we finally found a spot to camp that was large enough to tent upon. Removing the pack sent an icy breeze across my sweat-soaked back. Brrr! We continued up the road sans-packs, looking for a better campsite. Nothing. But the trees gave way to sweeping panoramic views of Whiskeytown Lake, Redding, and a very faint outline of Mt Shasta.
We also came upon a truck carrying a vehicle that I only know by it's Quebecois name Moto-Neige. It's like a car, but with bulldozer tracks instead of wheels. "Must still be snow all the way up top," Matt speculated, as the truck descended the hill at half the speed it took us.
Trail mix stirred into my chocolate oatmeal. What's your trail dessert?The wind kicked up and we retreated to the tent just after supper. I definitely wasn't used to this much time on my feet. I half planned to run myself ragged for the weekend, to see if I could do it. That's how a lot of marathon plans run : two hard days back-to-back. The end of day two and I'm about ready to wave the white flag.
As we lay there in our not-quite-level tent chatting away, Matt said, "I have a feeling you're going to roll onto me by morning."
I cheekily replied, "Isn't it every man's dream to wake up with a woman on top of him?"
"It doesn't have the same effect when there are two sleeping bags and lots of clothes in between."
"Oh, well, Goodnight."
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Minimalist Shoes
It's great that so many people like to run in minimalist shoes. Everybody has their own specific reasons for running and I can understand how it suits purists. Moving along under your own power, thousands of new sensations underfoot. Just as nature intended.
The problem I have is when someone (whether they are pro-barefoot or not) finds something that works for them, they feel they are an authority on running footwear. Example here : http://arcticglass.blogspot.com/2011/05/minimalist-shoes-and-fixie-mountain.html
The author, Jill, was just comparing running and biking in terms of minimalism without taking a side on anything. Suddenly there was a heated discussion, complete with strangers publicly dissecting all her aches and pains and claiming that she's practically ruining her legs by running in the shoes she likes. Unless you're a podiatrist/sports med. researcher, you aren't an authority.
I am very unlikely to become a barefoot runner.
Here's why :
1. I enjoy multitasking. I "run errands" in the most literal sense. Trips with small loads, obviously not the grocery, are great for getting a run and some errands done at the same time. Roads get me there.
2. I enjoy running on roads. In a town with very few trails, I'm glad I enjoy them. Yes, our caveman ancestors ran barefoot for miles at a time, but I know they didn't do it on pavement. I know how my legs respond running on pavement versus trails and I can't imagine the blow I'd be dealing my legs and feet if I were to run without redundant amounts of shoe between me and the rock-hard surface.
3. I'm a big believer in the "Don't fix it if it's not broken" motto. Just take a look at my 30lb computer monitor that is about as old as I am. This motto applies to my running shoe choices.
4. One of the reported side effects of barefoot running is that it makes the foot uncomfortable in regular shoes. Does that mean people shouldn't switch back and forth between the two?? (I really don't know what to believe with the overload of info on the internet.) Ewa, what's your take on this?
5. My feet are always cold unless it is over 70F outside (which is rarely the case here). Cold feet make for an unhappy Karen.
----
Those things aside, I love going barefoot in my normal day. I've been this way since I was a child. Climbing trees and playing in the woods. I especially enjoyed stepping in fresh cow pies at Grandma's farm barefoot. The warm, squishy sensation is incredible. When I first took up running, I didn't bring my running shoes along with me when I went on vacation. When I felt the urge to run, I'd run barefoot. It was never painful or very far. I couldn't imagine completing the mileage I do now in that manner without injury.
Even now, unless my feet are physically cold, I go barefoot at home, inside and out. I don't go barefoot in public because I'm afraid of metal and broken glass. I do have some "water" shoes that are essentially minimalist. I like them on the beach, sand dunes, and hikes in the Redwoods. They are easy to clean (a big plus when filled with sand) and don't cause blisters. My feet get cold easily, so it's only on really sunny days that I can wear them without being chilled.
To me and my current goals, barefoot has it's proper place, and it isn't in running. I've run with success in my current arsenal of footwear, why change?
I'm off for a weekend in the mountains at Whiskeytown. Enjoy your holiday weekend!
The problem I have is when someone (whether they are pro-barefoot or not) finds something that works for them, they feel they are an authority on running footwear. Example here : http://arcticglass.blogspot.com/2011/05/minimalist-shoes-and-fixie-mountain.html
The author, Jill, was just comparing running and biking in terms of minimalism without taking a side on anything. Suddenly there was a heated discussion, complete with strangers publicly dissecting all her aches and pains and claiming that she's practically ruining her legs by running in the shoes she likes. Unless you're a podiatrist/sports med. researcher, you aren't an authority.
I am very unlikely to become a barefoot runner.
Here's why :
1. I enjoy multitasking. I "run errands" in the most literal sense. Trips with small loads, obviously not the grocery, are great for getting a run and some errands done at the same time. Roads get me there.
2. I enjoy running on roads. In a town with very few trails, I'm glad I enjoy them. Yes, our caveman ancestors ran barefoot for miles at a time, but I know they didn't do it on pavement. I know how my legs respond running on pavement versus trails and I can't imagine the blow I'd be dealing my legs and feet if I were to run without redundant amounts of shoe between me and the rock-hard surface.
3. I'm a big believer in the "Don't fix it if it's not broken" motto. Just take a look at my 30lb computer monitor that is about as old as I am. This motto applies to my running shoe choices.
4. One of the reported side effects of barefoot running is that it makes the foot uncomfortable in regular shoes. Does that mean people shouldn't switch back and forth between the two?? (I really don't know what to believe with the overload of info on the internet.) Ewa, what's your take on this?
5. My feet are always cold unless it is over 70F outside (which is rarely the case here). Cold feet make for an unhappy Karen.
----
Those things aside, I love going barefoot in my normal day. I've been this way since I was a child. Climbing trees and playing in the woods. I especially enjoyed stepping in fresh cow pies at Grandma's farm barefoot. The warm, squishy sensation is incredible. When I first took up running, I didn't bring my running shoes along with me when I went on vacation. When I felt the urge to run, I'd run barefoot. It was never painful or very far. I couldn't imagine completing the mileage I do now in that manner without injury.
Even now, unless my feet are physically cold, I go barefoot at home, inside and out. I don't go barefoot in public because I'm afraid of metal and broken glass. I do have some "water" shoes that are essentially minimalist. I like them on the beach, sand dunes, and hikes in the Redwoods. They are easy to clean (a big plus when filled with sand) and don't cause blisters. My feet get cold easily, so it's only on really sunny days that I can wear them without being chilled.
To me and my current goals, barefoot has it's proper place, and it isn't in running. I've run with success in my current arsenal of footwear, why change?
I'm off for a weekend in the mountains at Whiskeytown. Enjoy your holiday weekend!
Rest Days
When I don't have a clear training plan, I like to run everyday. I like running, makes sense to do it everyday, right? So I run, and run, and by day eight or nine straight and a 45 mile week later, I'm feeling rundown and can't figure out why. So I do my best when I build a training plan and have scheduled rest days. Chalk it up to my organizational personality.
So when I went to make my training plan for the summer, I researched training plans for the 50K I wanted to do at the end of August. This is the post I wrote on Monday and didn't publish:
"As I surfed the web, looking for suggestions on training for 50K races, I considered the hard ones and the easy ones and then decided on my plan of action. I would continue my 12-16-20 cycle, but increase it to 12-20-24 and culminate in a trail marathon leading up to a 2-week taper. I had it all written down on paper, in pen, and a strange feeling washed over me. I wasn't sure I wanted to do it.
Can I handle the training miles? Sure. Can I run 50K if I want to? Of course. In the most recent training cycle, I've proved to myself that I can run higher mileage than ever before.
BUT.
Do I want to train for a 50K? That's really what the question comes down to. I remember what my summer was like last year : running. And nearly nothing else. As much as I love to run, I DO have other interests. And it almost seems like I'm wasting summer by spending it running rather than exploring. This is my first California summer. California is a big state.....so much to see.
I shot hubby an email at work :
"Would you be bummed if we didn't run a 50K this summer? I'm just thinking that it might be nice to keep it to marathons and have a life instead. What are your thoughts?"
Maybe I'm getting burned out. Maybe I just want to explore. Either way, I have a pretty big decision to make soon. The plan, sans 50K, would include a summer trail marathon and then a road one in the fall. Capping out at 22 mi training runs a couple of times. Is it really that different than training for a 50K? Or does it just feel like it?"
Just coming off a marathon training plan that took everything out of me, I almost couldn't stand the thought of getting right back into the high mileage. Then I took two days off of running. I rode my bike for the first time in months. I enjoyed the bike more than I remembered. I know I can never make bike riding outside for fitness because risk of falling and breaking my arm is too high. So biking is and always will be, for me, a fun leisure activity. And that is comforting.
Those two days off were revitalizing. I sat in the hot tub, I rode my bike, I watched a lot of TV. Pretty much a Karen Spa Day of relaxation, minus the funny smelling lotions.
Yesterday, I looked back at that grueling training plan that I was ready to throw away just days ago. It didn't seem as scary as it once did. After all, what's two more miles per long run each week, anyways? I'm still not sure on my goal races, but for now, I'm following the training plan and seeing where the road leads.
This afternoon, Matt, Alex (new trail running buddy!) and I embark on our first trail long run of the year. It's going to be 13 miles of killer hills in a local state park. It's fun how trail running always whoops my butt and I still enjoy it as I do. Can't wait.
So when I went to make my training plan for the summer, I researched training plans for the 50K I wanted to do at the end of August. This is the post I wrote on Monday and didn't publish:
"As I surfed the web, looking for suggestions on training for 50K races, I considered the hard ones and the easy ones and then decided on my plan of action. I would continue my 12-16-20 cycle, but increase it to 12-20-24 and culminate in a trail marathon leading up to a 2-week taper. I had it all written down on paper, in pen, and a strange feeling washed over me. I wasn't sure I wanted to do it.
Can I handle the training miles? Sure. Can I run 50K if I want to? Of course. In the most recent training cycle, I've proved to myself that I can run higher mileage than ever before.
BUT.
Do I want to train for a 50K? That's really what the question comes down to. I remember what my summer was like last year : running. And nearly nothing else. As much as I love to run, I DO have other interests. And it almost seems like I'm wasting summer by spending it running rather than exploring. This is my first California summer. California is a big state.....so much to see.
I shot hubby an email at work :
"Would you be bummed if we didn't run a 50K this summer? I'm just thinking that it might be nice to keep it to marathons and have a life instead. What are your thoughts?"
Maybe I'm getting burned out. Maybe I just want to explore. Either way, I have a pretty big decision to make soon. The plan, sans 50K, would include a summer trail marathon and then a road one in the fall. Capping out at 22 mi training runs a couple of times. Is it really that different than training for a 50K? Or does it just feel like it?"
Just coming off a marathon training plan that took everything out of me, I almost couldn't stand the thought of getting right back into the high mileage. Then I took two days off of running. I rode my bike for the first time in months. I enjoyed the bike more than I remembered. I know I can never make bike riding outside for fitness because risk of falling and breaking my arm is too high. So biking is and always will be, for me, a fun leisure activity. And that is comforting.
Those two days off were revitalizing. I sat in the hot tub, I rode my bike, I watched a lot of TV. Pretty much a Karen Spa Day of relaxation, minus the funny smelling lotions.
Yesterday, I looked back at that grueling training plan that I was ready to throw away just days ago. It didn't seem as scary as it once did. After all, what's two more miles per long run each week, anyways? I'm still not sure on my goal races, but for now, I'm following the training plan and seeing where the road leads.
This afternoon, Matt, Alex (new trail running buddy!) and I embark on our first trail long run of the year. It's going to be 13 miles of killer hills in a local state park. It's fun how trail running always whoops my butt and I still enjoy it as I do. Can't wait.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
My OTHER training buddies
As I rode along on a Parisian subway train that smelled vaguely like corn chips, I glanced at the other passengers. They say that you can tell an American by their sneakers. Us Americans like comfy shoes and wear athletic shoes for any and all activities. For that trip, I brought sandals and my running shoes. On chilly or rainy days, I fell into that stereotypical American category. One thing I noticed about the women was, yes, they wore pretty shoes and NEVER sneakers, but sneaking out from beneath their sandal straps and peep toe shoes were bandages. And blisters. Our shoes may be ugly, but at least my feet are happy. :)
That said, I rarely wear athletic shoes outside of actually running or hiking. I have miraculously found just a few pair of cute flats that don't hurt my feet in any way. A wide forefoot and narrow heel make my feet just unusual enough that I can seldom find cute heels.
But I have my share of running shoes. I believe that there are many types of shoes for not only varying foot types, but for varying activities. (I have been professionally fitted for running shoes and was recommended either a super cushion shoe or a motion control one, the two opposite approaches to lessening the blow on my knee.) I believe in varying my shoes every couple of runs so I don't become too weak and dependent on one specific type. So many people wax poetic about how switching to minimalist shoes saved their running and good for them. What works for you sure won't work for me. And some people are unbelievably opinionated when it comes to their shoes. Good advice from any runner will be this : get a professional fitting. I like the shoes I run in, they keep me running happy. The roads I run on, are a different story.
Here are my running buddies :
Asics Phoenix
I bought these on a whim during my uninjured phase in January. Attracted to the lightweight nature of these shoes, I overlooked the fact that they weren't what I usually buy. I FLY in these shoes. I wear them on nearly all my runs under 10 miles.
Brooks Adrenaline GTS 10
All last year, the Adrenalines were my go-to shoe. Enough support, but much less cushion than the Phoenix, they powered me through the November marathon. When I moved here to the slant roads, they were retired to the closet to collect dust while I nursed my IT band back to health. I occasionally wear them on short runs, but they aren't as soft as the Phoneix.
Brooks Adrenaline ASR Trail
Dirty, just as trail shoes are supposed to be, these babies were bought on suuuper deep clearance in Alaska just after winter hit. They remained in the box until January. Three trail runs and they are already muddy. I really love them.
Brooks Ariel
As Brooks calls them "Motion Control Superhero", they live up to their name. I have tried many different motion control shoes (the Ariel is the most expensive) and always come back to the Ariel. I've been in it on and off for at least five years now. When my IT band aches, I turn to these shoes for a couple of weeks and VOILA, the pain goes away. Every shoe store I've visited in those five years has told me that it's too much shoe for someone my size. Then I tell them I over-pronate a ridiculous amount and they shrug, assuming they won't change my mind. I would run in the Ariels all the time, but they are bulky and I often kick my ankles bloody when I run in them. These shoes have gotten me through three of my five marathons and all but three of the nine halves I've run. If not for the Ariel, I would surely be sidelined by injury once every year.
Thank you running buddies! I could not have gotten this far without you!!!!
How many pairs do you have in your rotation right now?
That said, I rarely wear athletic shoes outside of actually running or hiking. I have miraculously found just a few pair of cute flats that don't hurt my feet in any way. A wide forefoot and narrow heel make my feet just unusual enough that I can seldom find cute heels.
But I have my share of running shoes. I believe that there are many types of shoes for not only varying foot types, but for varying activities. (I have been professionally fitted for running shoes and was recommended either a super cushion shoe or a motion control one, the two opposite approaches to lessening the blow on my knee.) I believe in varying my shoes every couple of runs so I don't become too weak and dependent on one specific type. So many people wax poetic about how switching to minimalist shoes saved their running and good for them. What works for you sure won't work for me. And some people are unbelievably opinionated when it comes to their shoes. Good advice from any runner will be this : get a professional fitting. I like the shoes I run in, they keep me running happy. The roads I run on, are a different story.
Here are my running buddies :
Asics Phoenix
I bought these on a whim during my uninjured phase in January. Attracted to the lightweight nature of these shoes, I overlooked the fact that they weren't what I usually buy. I FLY in these shoes. I wear them on nearly all my runs under 10 miles.
Brooks Adrenaline GTS 10
All last year, the Adrenalines were my go-to shoe. Enough support, but much less cushion than the Phoenix, they powered me through the November marathon. When I moved here to the slant roads, they were retired to the closet to collect dust while I nursed my IT band back to health. I occasionally wear them on short runs, but they aren't as soft as the Phoneix.
Brooks Adrenaline ASR Trail
Dirty, just as trail shoes are supposed to be, these babies were bought on suuuper deep clearance in Alaska just after winter hit. They remained in the box until January. Three trail runs and they are already muddy. I really love them.
Brooks Ariel
As Brooks calls them "Motion Control Superhero", they live up to their name. I have tried many different motion control shoes (the Ariel is the most expensive) and always come back to the Ariel. I've been in it on and off for at least five years now. When my IT band aches, I turn to these shoes for a couple of weeks and VOILA, the pain goes away. Every shoe store I've visited in those five years has told me that it's too much shoe for someone my size. Then I tell them I over-pronate a ridiculous amount and they shrug, assuming they won't change my mind. I would run in the Ariels all the time, but they are bulky and I often kick my ankles bloody when I run in them. These shoes have gotten me through three of my five marathons and all but three of the nine halves I've run. If not for the Ariel, I would surely be sidelined by injury once every year.
Thank you running buddies! I could not have gotten this far without you!!!!
How many pairs do you have in your rotation right now?
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Why I Blog and Inspiration
Reasons Why I Blog :
Without any "job" outside the home, sometimes I feel like I'm just wasting my life, not doing my part within society. I make blogging my job. It gives me something tangible to look back and say, "yes I accomplished something", as well as sharing my adventures with others.
In my circle of friends, I'm known as the "Crazy Runner Girl". While I've inspired friends to become more active with this blog, I also use it to connect with others that are more crazy than I am. They serve as my inspiration to keep getting stronger, faster, and at the same time, more crazy. So I thank you all for being my fitness inspiration. I would never have made it this far without you. Thank you for helping push my limits.
Inspirations
I've had people say that I'm "brave" and "heroic" for fighting cancer (now I'm cured! horrayyy!!). It makes me really feel awkward. I did what I had to do to survive. I didn't have a choice. The "brave" thing would have been to let myself die. That takes more guts than fighting it. Fighting was the only option to avoid death, I think it's more cowardly. But on the other hand, I do believe that people with illnesses can be inspiring.
This is my sister, Emily. Two years my junior, she has always been my best friend.
At sixteen, she was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. As a disease that most people don't understand, she spent the first few years defending herself when family told her to "just get over it already" while she dealt with her own inner imbalances. By her senior year of high school, she seemed to have her medications evened out. She left for college and did what every college student does : party. Since drugs and alcohol are depressants (and shouldn't ever be mixed with her meds), it sent her into a downward spiral. Combined with a roommate that stole her medications (to get high) and wore her clothes and put them back dirty and smelling of cigarettes, her stresses maxed out and she was admitted to the hospital on suicidal watch.
The next two years, she spent more days at inpatient facilities than out. Two birthdays, one Thanksgiving and one Christmas were spent in the hospital. The family and I brought birthday cake and Christmas present to celebrate with her. She had to get special permission from the nurses to be able to wear the scarf that I crocheted her for Christmas one year. She could wear it in the common room and then had to give it back when she went for meals and to sleep.
Miraculously, she didn't have any hospitalizations while I was going through cancer treatments. She later told me that she couldn't put Mom through more stress and really tried extra hard to keep her moods stabilized with counseling and retail therapy.
During my senior year of college, she became depressed again. By now, she was on her second psychiatrist (the first one gave up because he ran out of ideas) and he was quickly running out of new things to try. He suggested ECT treatments. It's the very same treatment used for Bipolar in the 1960's. It sends electricity through the brain until the patient seizes. This is in an attempt to "reset" the brain. It seemed to work, as long as she kept having them everyday. After suffering some frightening memory lapses, she refused any more treatments. These treatments resulted in several "tics" and slower word recall while speaking. Strangers often assume she is mentally challenged and write her off as an idiot. Even after the treatments, she has the most remarkable memory (once she gets the info to stick).
Two weeks before my wedding, she was being set up to try an MAOI. This type of medication interacts with just about EVERYTHING, so she went cold turkey with absolutely no meds. Friends coming for the wedding noticed how down she was and asked if she was okay. She wasn't, I knew that. But as my maid of honor, she put up the most amazing fight to stay out of the hospital. Two days after my wedding, she was back in the hospital on suicide watch until a few weeks after the MAOI began to work. Two more years of frequent hospitalizations, and she was out. During this time she was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, a disease that often occurs in patients with Bipolar because of the psych meds.
Her meds are constantly being tweaked, new adjustment side effects every month or so. She was on SSI disability at the age of 21. For two years, she sat at home, not sure what to do with herself. Her doctor encouraged her to try rebuilding her life. With frequent memory problems and severe back pain, she was reluctant to return school. Student loan deferral periods drew to a close. She would have to either go back to school or pay the loans off with her meager SSI monies. She decided to go back to school, retaking a few of the classes she got incomplete grades in because she dropped out mid-semester a few years prior. Formerly someone whom got excellent grades with little effort, she struggled to adapt to her "new" memory. It required an entirely different style of learning and she spent lots of time believing that she would fail.
May 2011. After seven years since her first attempt at college, she graduated with an Associate of Arts degree. She will be transferring to a Baccalaureate program in psychology in the fall. Armed with tutors and extra testing time from Disability Services at her university, she will have all the tools necessary to succeed. Most important of all, she has regained the confidence that she knows she can do it. And I am so proud of my little sis. She is the very definition of bravery. Deciding to conquer her inner demons every. single. day. Now that's heroic.
Without any "job" outside the home, sometimes I feel like I'm just wasting my life, not doing my part within society. I make blogging my job. It gives me something tangible to look back and say, "yes I accomplished something", as well as sharing my adventures with others.
In my circle of friends, I'm known as the "Crazy Runner Girl". While I've inspired friends to become more active with this blog, I also use it to connect with others that are more crazy than I am. They serve as my inspiration to keep getting stronger, faster, and at the same time, more crazy. So I thank you all for being my fitness inspiration. I would never have made it this far without you. Thank you for helping push my limits.
Inspirations
I've had people say that I'm "brave" and "heroic" for fighting cancer (now I'm cured! horrayyy!!). It makes me really feel awkward. I did what I had to do to survive. I didn't have a choice. The "brave" thing would have been to let myself die. That takes more guts than fighting it. Fighting was the only option to avoid death, I think it's more cowardly. But on the other hand, I do believe that people with illnesses can be inspiring.
This is my sister, Emily. Two years my junior, she has always been my best friend.
At sixteen, she was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. As a disease that most people don't understand, she spent the first few years defending herself when family told her to "just get over it already" while she dealt with her own inner imbalances. By her senior year of high school, she seemed to have her medications evened out. She left for college and did what every college student does : party. Since drugs and alcohol are depressants (and shouldn't ever be mixed with her meds), it sent her into a downward spiral. Combined with a roommate that stole her medications (to get high) and wore her clothes and put them back dirty and smelling of cigarettes, her stresses maxed out and she was admitted to the hospital on suicidal watch.
The next two years, she spent more days at inpatient facilities than out. Two birthdays, one Thanksgiving and one Christmas were spent in the hospital. The family and I brought birthday cake and Christmas present to celebrate with her. She had to get special permission from the nurses to be able to wear the scarf that I crocheted her for Christmas one year. She could wear it in the common room and then had to give it back when she went for meals and to sleep.
Miraculously, she didn't have any hospitalizations while I was going through cancer treatments. She later told me that she couldn't put Mom through more stress and really tried extra hard to keep her moods stabilized with counseling and retail therapy.
During my senior year of college, she became depressed again. By now, she was on her second psychiatrist (the first one gave up because he ran out of ideas) and he was quickly running out of new things to try. He suggested ECT treatments. It's the very same treatment used for Bipolar in the 1960's. It sends electricity through the brain until the patient seizes. This is in an attempt to "reset" the brain. It seemed to work, as long as she kept having them everyday. After suffering some frightening memory lapses, she refused any more treatments. These treatments resulted in several "tics" and slower word recall while speaking. Strangers often assume she is mentally challenged and write her off as an idiot. Even after the treatments, she has the most remarkable memory (once she gets the info to stick).
Two weeks before my wedding, she was being set up to try an MAOI. This type of medication interacts with just about EVERYTHING, so she went cold turkey with absolutely no meds. Friends coming for the wedding noticed how down she was and asked if she was okay. She wasn't, I knew that. But as my maid of honor, she put up the most amazing fight to stay out of the hospital. Two days after my wedding, she was back in the hospital on suicide watch until a few weeks after the MAOI began to work. Two more years of frequent hospitalizations, and she was out. During this time she was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, a disease that often occurs in patients with Bipolar because of the psych meds.
Her meds are constantly being tweaked, new adjustment side effects every month or so. She was on SSI disability at the age of 21. For two years, she sat at home, not sure what to do with herself. Her doctor encouraged her to try rebuilding her life. With frequent memory problems and severe back pain, she was reluctant to return school. Student loan deferral periods drew to a close. She would have to either go back to school or pay the loans off with her meager SSI monies. She decided to go back to school, retaking a few of the classes she got incomplete grades in because she dropped out mid-semester a few years prior. Formerly someone whom got excellent grades with little effort, she struggled to adapt to her "new" memory. It required an entirely different style of learning and she spent lots of time believing that she would fail.
May 2011. After seven years since her first attempt at college, she graduated with an Associate of Arts degree. She will be transferring to a Baccalaureate program in psychology in the fall. Armed with tutors and extra testing time from Disability Services at her university, she will have all the tools necessary to succeed. Most important of all, she has regained the confidence that she knows she can do it. And I am so proud of my little sis. She is the very definition of bravery. Deciding to conquer her inner demons every. single. day. Now that's heroic.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Taper Fun
(this post is out of order from the others and actually is supposed to be the week leading up to the marathon.)
I really enjoy running all my old routes in the UP. The roads aren't slanted and my IT band nearly recovered while I was visiting. Unlike Eureka, the roads that are more than a mile long aren't really busy with traffic.
My favorite hiking spot in the area is called Piers Gorge. It's probably 4 miles total, but overlooks rapids and waterfalls on the Michigan-Wisconsin Border, the Menominee River. My high school friend, Nicole joined Matt and I for the hike. It wasn't until my visit with her that I realized how much time had passed. Nearly ten years since graduation, we've both moved several times, got married, and she has three kids.
Ah, Fumee Lake. If there's one thing about my hometown that I'd like to take back with me, it would be the trails of Fumee Lake. It's so peaceful.
This spot was my swimming place as a teenager. It didn't get swimmer's itch like the other local lakes and nobody really swam in it's murky waters....except my friends and I.
The last long run before the marathon, 8miles. Five were around Lake Antoine and then the three back to the house. It was 60 that day. The dry air chapped my lips almost immediately. My throat crusted up. Definitely a huge change from Eureka. My allergies also disappeared on the trip. Now that I'm back home, they returned within 48 hrs. Claritin and Zyrtec don't work. Any other over-the-counter suggestions?
I really enjoy running all my old routes in the UP. The roads aren't slanted and my IT band nearly recovered while I was visiting. Unlike Eureka, the roads that are more than a mile long aren't really busy with traffic. 
My favorite hiking spot in the area is called Piers Gorge. It's probably 4 miles total, but overlooks rapids and waterfalls on the Michigan-Wisconsin Border, the Menominee River. My high school friend, Nicole joined Matt and I for the hike. It wasn't until my visit with her that I realized how much time had passed. Nearly ten years since graduation, we've both moved several times, got married, and she has three kids.
Ah, Fumee Lake. If there's one thing about my hometown that I'd like to take back with me, it would be the trails of Fumee Lake. It's so peaceful.
This spot was my swimming place as a teenager. It didn't get swimmer's itch like the other local lakes and nobody really swam in it's murky waters....except my friends and I.
The last long run before the marathon, 8miles. Five were around Lake Antoine and then the three back to the house. It was 60 that day. The dry air chapped my lips almost immediately. My throat crusted up. Definitely a huge change from Eureka. My allergies also disappeared on the trip. Now that I'm back home, they returned within 48 hrs. Claritin and Zyrtec don't work. Any other over-the-counter suggestions?
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Da U.P. in Photos
Mom working hard in the library.
Matt was going to put a new porch on the house.
...until he found that most of the joists on the house were rotted away.
He sent for reinforcements.
Dairy Queen with my siblings, Emily and Chris, and my best friendJoAnne.
Chuckie.
Dad hard at work.
...all the while, Matt fixed the house and began on the porch.
a visit from the Neighborhood Welcome Wagon, Vino....
Ginormous pasties.
screwing in the boards.
Bonfire on Sawyer Lake with Brian and Emily.
Matt turns THIRTY!!!!
The finished product! Must mean it's time to go home......Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Cellcom Green Bay Marathon 2011
In recent years, I have had spotty attendance at catholic mass. This year, I made it part of my lenten goals to not skip a week. Somehow, it filled a void in my life and I haven't missed a week since. It seemed obvious that I needed to attend Saturday mass and pray for my IT band if nothing else. As we sang along to one of the hymns, Matt pointed out a phrase "We will run and not grow weary". He smiled at me and we continued singing. How perfect. Little did I know that I had accidentally happened upon my running mantra the day before the race.
Catching a snooze on the way to Green Bay.
As I inhaled my pasta dinner beneath the stadium seating of Lambeau Field, an incredible feeling of zen and contentment washed over me. After a week of feeling anxious and even halfway dreading the race, it was a welcome change. For the first race in a few years, I slept more than five hours prior to race morning. I'm usually kept up all night, going through the course in my head. My goals, my strategies, my outfit. This time, I slept like a baby.
Dressed for success!
The butterflies returned by the time I awoke and I was uncontrollably excited for the race. As I looked out the window to see the trees and stop lights swaying in the 30-40mph wind, I made a last-minute change to my outfit and walked the two blocks to Lambeau and the start.
Matt and I met up with my band camp buddy, Nichole (yeah, I went to band camp. Batawagama in Iron River) She has run the full at GB five times. I have run the half or full that same amount. This year, we decided to start together, even if we didn't finish together. "If I crap out, you need to leave me", I insisted. "Ditto", she replied. We chatted some more before the gun went off. Representing both NYC and northern CA, we covered both coasts. The first few miles we chatted about our homes and what we were up to. We agreed that we both had great runs and terrible ones and weren't sure what the day would bring, especially with the wind. Miles 1 and 2 went by quickly. Mile 3-5 the marker signs had blown over. But by the timing mat at 5mi, those three miles were over 27:00 and registered at 5.25. Nichole decided she wanted to go ahead because she was feeling good. She likes to go out fast and hold on until a crash, because "it will hurt a lot no matter what". So I knew she'd leave me. I didn't think much of the extra Garmy distance because I had been specifically following the yellow stripe down the middle of the road to make sure my IT knee wasn't irritated.
Without a buddy to distract me, I really noticed the wind whipping me around. The course snaked through some residential neighborhoods so it wasn't too long into the brutal 35mph north wind for very long. Mile 8 was into the wind. With windchilled fingers, I struggled to open my shot blocks. Mile 11 was windy too. We will run and not grow weary, I sang to myself. I felt like I was reduced to a crawl although Garmy was still showing an 8:45/mi. I resisted the temptation to turn on my music, convincing myself that I would only turn it on when I was tempted to walk. At mile 10, I spotted my mom, holding a sign that was flapping so wildly in the wind that I couldn't read what it said. She yelled out good luck and that she'd see me at the finish line. Mile 13-15 were with the wind. I was FLYING. I gnawed on the remaining shot blocks. Chewing and breathing simultaneously forced me to chew with the grace of a caveman, complete with drool spilling from my mouth. After each aid station, discarded cups on the street flew by at twice my speed. The course moved to the left side of the road (the wrong one for my knee) and I felt a twinge of unhappiness. I also felt a small ache in my left IT band too. As we rounded the corner into the De Pere downtown, the buildings blocked the wind away. I welcomed the break. It felt so warm and cozy in the sunshine. As we crossed the Fox River, a guy came up on my side. "Brutal wind, hey?" "Yeah, but you look great!" I replied. He really looked unfazed by the wind. "But I'm cheating. I'm running in the relay", he finally confessed. The bridge whipped me so hard that it caught my leg mid-stride and whipped it into the other one. I nearly fell down. My race number flapped, ready to rip free at any moment. This bridge was HELL. Pushing as hard as I could, Garmy told me it was a 10:00/mi pace.
The course veered north, into that constant 30-40mph wind (gusts to 45mph). Until this point, I was running without my music. Now it was time. Miles 15-21 were into that wind, and I H-A-T-E the wind. I can run at -40, I can run at 90, I can run on ice, through mud, and in deep snow--but in the wind, I WHINE a lot, just ask Matt. haha Sister Hazel was barely audible through the windy woosh. I had to max out the volume to hear it. And you know what? The music was distracting enough that my pace didn't slow much. I was actually surprised that I wasn't cursing the weather. I enjoyed the challenge of running into the wind. I passed about 50 people in that six mile stretch. "This NEVER HAPPENS!!" I thought to myself as I kept up my 9:00/mi pace. Both of those 20 milers in the 30mph wind helped me after all (that suffering wasn't all for nothing!!!). A few of the miles dipped nearer a 10:00/mi when I stopped for aid stations and my GU somewhere in the middle of the windy miles. My fingers were numb and weakly fumbled to get the GU open. Inhaling while I took gulps of water, the wind went down my throat. It burned and knocked me breathless with each swallow. That was really the worst part of the wind..that and the windburned eyeballs I got by the end.
To keep myself going, I told myself that the race really went only to 21 miles. The rest of it would be a southerly cruise to Lambeau on that awesome tailwind. "Only racing to 21 miles? I did this in training. I've got this." As I crossed the Dousman St. Bridge to the other side of the Fox River, I couldn't believe that I hadn't walked for anything other than the aid stations. When my IT band hurt, I focused on my form and it seemed to go away. (that's something I definitely have to work on this summer: form.) In the past, mile 18 had been notoriously cruel to me. My wall was nowhere to be found. (Why didn't I always race the last half of a marathon with music???)
At 22 miles, I was heading with the wind and decided to kick up the speed a bunch. THAT'S how good I was feeling. I took my last GU and as I wiped away the sticky residue, I felt a smile beneath my glove. A smile! (Aren't I supposed to grimace at this point?) I was having a fantastic time. As I thought about how this town feels more like my hometown than Iron Mountain does, my chest tightened. I choked up. Tears formed in my eyes. As I blinked them away and calmed myself, I high-fived several groups of little kids. I passed more people. I trotted along like running was the easiest thing in the world. By mile 24 and a surprising cup of rootbeer at the aid station, I felt my euphoria dissipate. "You kicked it in too soon, now you're gonna pay." Two or three people passed me back. I worked on keeping up running. "You've run 25 miles now, you can't stop to WALK now." I will run and not grow weary, PUSH! The last mile, my foot hurt (laced my shoes too tight). Every part of my body ached a little. I slumped over as I approached Lambeau Field. Music blared from the stadium and echoed between the houses. I stopped the iPod and ran for it.
I saw these signs held up by my mom and sister just before
I caught those two people and then some. Blinded by the darkness in the Lambeau Field Player's Tunnel, I could only see the reflective bands on a jacket ahead of me. I prayed that nothing would be in my way. Then the light through the tunnel grew brighter and opened onto the field. Everything looked gigantic as I took my lap around the field. Security guards lined the perimeter, and I reluctantly chose not to make a Lambeau Leap for fear of coming this far and being disqualified. I sped up and zoomed out of the tunnel. At 26.1 mi, I was greeted by that darn north wind again. It smacked any sense of running form out of me and I looked like crap.
Crapass form within sight of the finish line.
I was pushing so hard into it that if the wind were to let up for a moment, I'd fall face first into the asphalt. Garmy clocked my official finish time as 3:57.13 with 26.46 miles. A new PR!!!!!!!
After collecting my race medal, finisher shirt (that isn't too big! YAY!), and a foil blanket, I headed out to find Mom, Emily, and Matt. Matt had heard my name called at the finish and found me first. Immediately, I blurted out, "Did you BQ?". The largest grin Matt's face could possibly hold appeared. "3:09". As happy as I was for my own PR, I was 100 times happier to hear his news. He did it!! Since we missed out on the Lambeau Leap due to the added security, we enjoyed a Titletown Brewery 26.2 Brew and a brat.
Not really a beer drinker, but this was the most
amazing beer ever!
Mr. BQ himself chowing on a brat after we returned to the windproof shelter
of the hotel room.
---
The following morning, I received an email that there was an error in course markings and it was 0.15 mi too long right after mile 3. Times were adjusted by the overage percentage and I was awarded a 3:55.52. Given the wind, I was more than pleased with that time!!! It'll just be that much easier to PR my next marathon.
My Splits :
Mile 5 00:43:42 08:44
Mile 10 01:27:47 08:54
Half 01:54:59 08:52
Mile 15 02:11:53 08:52
Mile 20 02:58:50 09:00
Finish 03:55:52 09:03
Overall 03:55:52 08:59/mi
F25-29: 47/159 F Overall : 178/881
Nichole, me, and Hubby.
My hero and amaaaaaaaaaaaazing husband, Matt qualified for Boston : 3:08.22 07:11/mi M30-34 : 20/162 M Overall : 65/1171
My friend, Nichole, finished in 3:51, coming within seconds of her marathon PR!
Catching a snooze on the way to Green Bay.As I inhaled my pasta dinner beneath the stadium seating of Lambeau Field, an incredible feeling of zen and contentment washed over me. After a week of feeling anxious and even halfway dreading the race, it was a welcome change. For the first race in a few years, I slept more than five hours prior to race morning. I'm usually kept up all night, going through the course in my head. My goals, my strategies, my outfit. This time, I slept like a baby.
Dressed for success!The butterflies returned by the time I awoke and I was uncontrollably excited for the race. As I looked out the window to see the trees and stop lights swaying in the 30-40mph wind, I made a last-minute change to my outfit and walked the two blocks to Lambeau and the start.
Matt and I met up with my band camp buddy, Nichole (yeah, I went to band camp. Batawagama in Iron River) She has run the full at GB five times. I have run the half or full that same amount. This year, we decided to start together, even if we didn't finish together. "If I crap out, you need to leave me", I insisted. "Ditto", she replied. We chatted some more before the gun went off. Representing both NYC and northern CA, we covered both coasts. The first few miles we chatted about our homes and what we were up to. We agreed that we both had great runs and terrible ones and weren't sure what the day would bring, especially with the wind. Miles 1 and 2 went by quickly. Mile 3-5 the marker signs had blown over. But by the timing mat at 5mi, those three miles were over 27:00 and registered at 5.25. Nichole decided she wanted to go ahead because she was feeling good. She likes to go out fast and hold on until a crash, because "it will hurt a lot no matter what". So I knew she'd leave me. I didn't think much of the extra Garmy distance because I had been specifically following the yellow stripe down the middle of the road to make sure my IT knee wasn't irritated.
Without a buddy to distract me, I really noticed the wind whipping me around. The course snaked through some residential neighborhoods so it wasn't too long into the brutal 35mph north wind for very long. Mile 8 was into the wind. With windchilled fingers, I struggled to open my shot blocks. Mile 11 was windy too. We will run and not grow weary, I sang to myself. I felt like I was reduced to a crawl although Garmy was still showing an 8:45/mi. I resisted the temptation to turn on my music, convincing myself that I would only turn it on when I was tempted to walk. At mile 10, I spotted my mom, holding a sign that was flapping so wildly in the wind that I couldn't read what it said. She yelled out good luck and that she'd see me at the finish line. Mile 13-15 were with the wind. I was FLYING. I gnawed on the remaining shot blocks. Chewing and breathing simultaneously forced me to chew with the grace of a caveman, complete with drool spilling from my mouth. After each aid station, discarded cups on the street flew by at twice my speed. The course moved to the left side of the road (the wrong one for my knee) and I felt a twinge of unhappiness. I also felt a small ache in my left IT band too. As we rounded the corner into the De Pere downtown, the buildings blocked the wind away. I welcomed the break. It felt so warm and cozy in the sunshine. As we crossed the Fox River, a guy came up on my side. "Brutal wind, hey?" "Yeah, but you look great!" I replied. He really looked unfazed by the wind. "But I'm cheating. I'm running in the relay", he finally confessed. The bridge whipped me so hard that it caught my leg mid-stride and whipped it into the other one. I nearly fell down. My race number flapped, ready to rip free at any moment. This bridge was HELL. Pushing as hard as I could, Garmy told me it was a 10:00/mi pace.
The course veered north, into that constant 30-40mph wind (gusts to 45mph). Until this point, I was running without my music. Now it was time. Miles 15-21 were into that wind, and I H-A-T-E the wind. I can run at -40, I can run at 90, I can run on ice, through mud, and in deep snow--but in the wind, I WHINE a lot, just ask Matt. haha Sister Hazel was barely audible through the windy woosh. I had to max out the volume to hear it. And you know what? The music was distracting enough that my pace didn't slow much. I was actually surprised that I wasn't cursing the weather. I enjoyed the challenge of running into the wind. I passed about 50 people in that six mile stretch. "This NEVER HAPPENS!!" I thought to myself as I kept up my 9:00/mi pace. Both of those 20 milers in the 30mph wind helped me after all (that suffering wasn't all for nothing!!!). A few of the miles dipped nearer a 10:00/mi when I stopped for aid stations and my GU somewhere in the middle of the windy miles. My fingers were numb and weakly fumbled to get the GU open. Inhaling while I took gulps of water, the wind went down my throat. It burned and knocked me breathless with each swallow. That was really the worst part of the wind..that and the windburned eyeballs I got by the end.
To keep myself going, I told myself that the race really went only to 21 miles. The rest of it would be a southerly cruise to Lambeau on that awesome tailwind. "Only racing to 21 miles? I did this in training. I've got this." As I crossed the Dousman St. Bridge to the other side of the Fox River, I couldn't believe that I hadn't walked for anything other than the aid stations. When my IT band hurt, I focused on my form and it seemed to go away. (that's something I definitely have to work on this summer: form.) In the past, mile 18 had been notoriously cruel to me. My wall was nowhere to be found. (Why didn't I always race the last half of a marathon with music???)
At 22 miles, I was heading with the wind and decided to kick up the speed a bunch. THAT'S how good I was feeling. I took my last GU and as I wiped away the sticky residue, I felt a smile beneath my glove. A smile! (Aren't I supposed to grimace at this point?) I was having a fantastic time. As I thought about how this town feels more like my hometown than Iron Mountain does, my chest tightened. I choked up. Tears formed in my eyes. As I blinked them away and calmed myself, I high-fived several groups of little kids. I passed more people. I trotted along like running was the easiest thing in the world. By mile 24 and a surprising cup of rootbeer at the aid station, I felt my euphoria dissipate. "You kicked it in too soon, now you're gonna pay." Two or three people passed me back. I worked on keeping up running. "You've run 25 miles now, you can't stop to WALK now." I will run and not grow weary, PUSH! The last mile, my foot hurt (laced my shoes too tight). Every part of my body ached a little. I slumped over as I approached Lambeau Field. Music blared from the stadium and echoed between the houses. I stopped the iPod and ran for it.
I saw these signs held up by my mom and sister just beforeheading into Lambeau Field.
I caught those two people and then some. Blinded by the darkness in the Lambeau Field Player's Tunnel, I could only see the reflective bands on a jacket ahead of me. I prayed that nothing would be in my way. Then the light through the tunnel grew brighter and opened onto the field. Everything looked gigantic as I took my lap around the field. Security guards lined the perimeter, and I reluctantly chose not to make a Lambeau Leap for fear of coming this far and being disqualified. I sped up and zoomed out of the tunnel. At 26.1 mi, I was greeted by that darn north wind again. It smacked any sense of running form out of me and I looked like crap.
Crapass form within sight of the finish line.I was pushing so hard into it that if the wind were to let up for a moment, I'd fall face first into the asphalt. Garmy clocked my official finish time as 3:57.13 with 26.46 miles. A new PR!!!!!!!
After collecting my race medal, finisher shirt (that isn't too big! YAY!), and a foil blanket, I headed out to find Mom, Emily, and Matt. Matt had heard my name called at the finish and found me first. Immediately, I blurted out, "Did you BQ?". The largest grin Matt's face could possibly hold appeared. "3:09". As happy as I was for my own PR, I was 100 times happier to hear his news. He did it!! Since we missed out on the Lambeau Leap due to the added security, we enjoyed a Titletown Brewery 26.2 Brew and a brat.
Not really a beer drinker, but this was the mostamazing beer ever!
Mr. BQ himself chowing on a brat after we returned to the windproof shelterof the hotel room.
The following morning, I received an email that there was an error in course markings and it was 0.15 mi too long right after mile 3. Times were adjusted by the overage percentage and I was awarded a 3:55.52. Given the wind, I was more than pleased with that time!!! It'll just be that much easier to PR my next marathon.
My Splits :
Mile 5 00:43:42 08:44
Mile 10 01:27:47 08:54
Half 01:54:59 08:52
Mile 15 02:11:53 08:52
Mile 20 02:58:50 09:00
Finish 03:55:52 09:03
Overall 03:55:52 08:59/mi
F25-29: 47/159 F Overall : 178/881
Nichole, me, and Hubby.My hero and amaaaaaaaaaaaazing husband, Matt qualified for Boston : 3:08.22 07:11/mi M30-34 : 20/162 M Overall : 65/1171
My friend, Nichole, finished in 3:51, coming within seconds of her marathon PR!
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