Oh Everest, My Everest

Clock Time: 5:43:08
Chip Time: 5:37:41
Average Pace: 12:53

I am effing exhausted and the mile 14 Tourette's is still in full force, but I did a pretty good job today (not the best, but decent) so here are the splits:

5K - 00:40:50, 13:08 pace, predicted finish: 5:44:20
10K - 1:16:21, 12:17 pace, predicted finish: 5:22:03
15K - 1:51:01, 11:54 pace, predicted finish: 5:12:00
20K - 2:39:46, 12:51 pace, predicted finish: 5:36:54
1/2 - 2:48:32, 12:51 pace, predicted finish: 5:36:54
25K - 3:17:41, 12:43 pace, predicted finish: 5:33:25
30K - 3:59:46, 13:08 pace, predicted finish: 5:44:20
40K - 5:25:13, 13:05 pace, predicted finish: 5:43:01

This is the race I should have run last year. I was hoping I could skip it and go right on to a big improvement. The first three splits had me coming in easily at 5:15, but then I really needed to use the portajohn right before mile 10 and I couldn't just keep running until I got to one without a line (that didn't happen until mile 20). So I waited TWELVE WHOLE MINUTES to use one, though I was at least clever enough to do it at the orange station so I could enjoy my little frozen slice of orange while waiting in line. Between the actual time wasted there and the rough start I had after standing still for 12 minutes, I could have easily made my realistic goal of 5:30. In fact, the 5:30 pace group caught up to me around mile 22 when I started to feel really bad, and I tried to stay motivated and keep pace with them for a while. That lasted all of a mile. Mile 23 rolled around and I realized that while they were doing run-walk like I had resorted to by that point, they were not doing 4/1s like me. They were doing something longer like 5/1 or 6/1, which might as well have been 60/1 or 300/1 considering the shape I was in. It couldn't have been too far off of my own system, but it was just enough to really, really hurt.

My joints seem okay, but my muscles are KILLING me. My calves and IT bands are the worst. I've never had to stop and stretch so much and even sitting still is agonizing with my IT bands wigging out on me. It's most certainly time for some vitamin I. I can't believe I thought I was going to do a speed workout this week. Like, did I smoke some crack when I planned on that and just not remember that I did? Seriously. A marathon is no joke. I take back what I said about 20-milers. Those babies are totally doable. Marathons are the ones that are like plane wrecks. Plain and simple, yo. The human body does NOT want to run that far. Ever. And when we make them do that anyway, they ruthlessly make us pay.

Two-word summary race report: OUCH! BOO-ya.

Labels: blue powerade, caffeine, great weather, GU, MCM, P.R., sport beans

Clock Time: 2:46:00
Chip Time: 2:43:43
Average Pace: 12:30 min/mi

Today was a lot of fun! Despite my adventures in getting to Fredericksburg when the cops decided to shut down southbound 295 six miles before I could get to the beltway and the being completely disoriented in DC, I ran a great race today. As always, it could have been better. The last three miles left something to be desired, and it figures because that was when my merry group of Marines (or former Marines? or Marine Corps base staff?) disbanded as the two nice ladies got a surge of energy and the man with all the moto cadence lost his and dropped back.

My legs hurt something fierce, too. I think the muscles actually hurt more than they did during either of the two full marathons. Luckily, the joints were okay. I've had more knee and hip joint pain during most of last years training runs over 6 miles than I did today, so that's a good sign. I brought my fuel belt with me, too, so I could avoid the swollen hands I got at Frederick. Still, they swelled at around mile 9! I don't know what the heck is going on, but I want to figure it out fast. Ever since I started running a little faster, most of the noticeable changes have been positive (notably the vanishing joint pain), but I don't like where this is headed with the swollen hands. I brought a good amount of water, gatorade and GU that should have taken care of all my needs, but nothing fixed it until I stopped running, chugged so much water that I could barely walk and stretched. It's hard to believe that it was a lack of water since I was toting around a heavy, swooshing belly of it for the last 4 miles. I wonder if swollen hands may just be a signal that my body has had it (since I didn't really train) and any sort of strenuous activity does that as I reach my wall.

The annoying part is that they don't necessarily hurt (not unless I keep stretching out my fingers and squeezing them into fists), but that swelling is usually a sign for something that is wrong. Everything else feels okay to me. I am not doing a very good job of explaining it, but there is something terribly unsettling about having swollen hands. It's even more unsettling because my feet didn't swell today, and they at least matched when my hands swelled up in Columbia, LA, and Frederick. But there was no hint of the tingly feet today and almost no signs on the old tootsies that I did anything special today at all. So what's the deal with my hands?!

I'm hoping that this problem goes away as I become more responsible and start putting the miles in the bank at this new pace. This could all possibly be explained by the fact that I am only running maybe once a week and in long races, no less. But I may bring a packet of salt with me on the next long run to see if that's the issue.

On a separate note, the staff is taking forever to put up the results and I was too busy trying to pass people at the end to look at the race clock. I have NO idea what my time was since I'm still leaving the Garmin at home for all runs that are timed for me. Was it a PR (felt like it)? By how much? Or am I delusional? I'm hopeful I'll know something tomorrow. Sitting here refreshing my browser on the results page isn't going to make them post it sooner.

EDIT: The results are in, just not on the official race site. New PR, by just shy of two minutes!! I hope to match that at Riley's this year and maybe destroy it at Baltimore if nothing goes wrong.

Labels: blue powerade, GU, red gatorade, sport beans, swollen hands

Last week's 12-miler brought on a surprisingly early bout of taper madness. Everyone was some kind of loopy during the run and it almost seemed like a mistake when we reached the end and we all felt so good. When I got home after today's so-so 10-miler, I realized that I should stop being surprised at the distances I am capable of running and also stop pretending that I am shocked about my training success in front of other people (most notably non-runners). I'm a runner, goddamn it, and sometime in the last 5-ish months this activity stopped feeling like that lark I had one night while scouring craigslist for things to do and it became who I was. This is who I am now. This is what I do.

I have definitely emerged from my personal funk; happycat has found her happy. The real challenge this next two weeks will be in staying gainfully employed despite my constant, intense urge to jump ship so that I can stop letting them run me into the ground and actually sleep enough to feel refreshed on the big day. If this week was any indicator, it does not look very promising for any people there who still think that the marathon and school are anywhere below my top two priorities.




...Also, I want to punch someone in the face because my knees only hurt right now thanks to the lack of sleep this week. Maybe happycat found some catnip instead of happy. It's been a while since I've felt like I could go for a good barfight.

Labels: aggression, bagel, knees, lemon-lime powerade, long run, shot blocks, sport beans, violent urges

I've been clinging to a moment, or maybe just not wanting to experience new moments. It's time to let go of that 20-miler. (Mostly because there's another one coming soon but also because I ran a race yesterday that I can't just pretend didn't happen.)

It was humid yesterday, so it sucked. I guess my time was good. I have a really bad attitude about all of this right now, but I can't seem to shake it (try as I might) because there never seem to be enough minutes in the day for me to get all the rest I need, let alone get through all of this physical and mental torture (not just running, but everything) with a big smile on my face.

I guess a pseudo-meltdown counts as rest week for me now? I'm going to expose one of my guilty pleasures by doing this, but this is really the best summary of how I'm doing right now:

Labels: lemon-lime powerade, long run, nsaids, Quantico Half Marathon, rest week, shot blocks, sport beans

Yesterday was a rough one, but I did it! I ran 16 miles! 16.4 to be exact. I don't particularly feel like reliving it, but I will summarize it by saying that it was long and arduous and my knees hurt the whole damn time despite the Tylenol I took at the beginning. I developed a case of tourette's just as I hit mile 14 and I think I'm just now shaking it. (Maybe not. I still have a few choice words in me.) I also had a great desire to spear the people running in front of me. They just looked too damned chipper. Good thing I didn't actually have a spear or any functional substitutes handy.

Mister-man had some good advice for me after I vented to him yesterday. He said that I should try doing some jumprope warm-up and a stretch before I run. This is usually not necessary for long runs since we run the whole thing slowly and do the warming up by attempting to negative split and running especially slow the first 3-5 miles. But it did make me realize why my knees hurt so much: I should have done exactly that before my two short runs this last week, since I chose to do speed runs for both. That's precisely the kind of workout that requires a warm-up and stretch. My knees hurt since that first speed run and only got worse through the end of the week, culminating in a world of pain for over 3-1/2 hours yesterday morning. (Who am I kidding? I'm still in a lot of pain.)

Anyway, I was going to go back to my usual wimpy 1-mile recovery run at a whopping 14-ish minute pace, but the thought of being on my knees for that long and only accomplishing one mile wearied me. Plus, I need to add miles during the week as we stay in the double digit mileage from here on out. I decided that from now on, no matter how tired I am, I should be shooting for runs that are no shorter than 3 miles. I mean, am I just going to stop before I get to the end of that marathon because I'm tired? Hell no. So, I took off into the nice misty day for a jog around some different parts of campus.

The cool weather felt good, so I just sort of took off with nary a care. My recovery run morphed into a speed workout. There were no sprints involved, which I typically like to incorporate into speed runs, but then neither were there any during my last two. I guess it's a good sign that I didn't notice until I finished, all out of breath and feeling accomplished. If I had gone just another half mile, I would have logged 20 miles this weekend. (!!) Given how beat up I feel, I'm perfectly happy with 19.5. That's a big enough deal for this little chicken.

Labels: consecutive key workouts, knees, long run, nsaids, recovery run, short run, shot blocks, speed run, sport beans, violent urges

I made up a new word today: jub. It's the new f-bomb. I was trying to type 'job' but I was all u's today.

Planned to do three miles at top speed tonight, but I only got one out before it was time to get back to my place to let my guest in. I'm housing a co-worker for the next two days because of the overtime and her hour and a half drive home. The one mile I did have time for was good and fast (for me) though, so at least I didn't waste a night. It's a slippery slope when you let one day get wasted... another 13 follow very easily, especially when there's plenty of work to do at the office.

At 9:45, it's the second fastest mile I've run in my life. The only time I've ever run a mile faster was when I was in 10th grade and I pulled a 9:00. Not bad for being eight years older, and a lot bigger and heavier. Maybe if I make my weekly speed run just one mile instead of three, or at least run the first mile at top speed and then do the other two as fast as I can stand after my extreme effort, then I'll be able to have a nice little 1-mile PR sometime before the big day. That would be a nice little accomplishment to keep me motivated as my life gets busier and everything gets more stressful. I'm gunnin' for 8, baby!

Labels: apple, short run, speed run, sport beans

After nearly two full weeks since my last run (a short recovery run the day after the infamous Riley's Rumble), I have to say that the long run yesterday felt like a renaissance... complete with a second trip through the metaphorical birth canal.

It was the same 12-mile route we ran at Belle Haven a few weeks ago, when it was my first time running 12 miles. That week, I had done extra credit and ran 12.75 in pursuit of a comfort station. Yesterday I was lucky to run exactly 12. (Well, I did decide to throw in the extra .02 when I sprinted to the next big tree after I heard the little beep from my watch telling me I'd just finished my 12th mile. It meant getting to the food a few seconds sooner.)

Clearly I hadn't lost all my strength or resolve during the long hiatus. Nor had I lost my will to get up obscenely early on a Saturday morning (and only on Saturday morning) to drive out and meet the group on a beautiful trail. It helped a lot that the weather was disturbingly reminiscent of May (when the actual May was disturbingly reminiscent of July). There was a cool breeze and I actually shivered a touch on my walk to the car at 6am. The sun came out later, but it never felt oppressive.

What felt oppressive was the imaginary slave driver on my shoulder, cracking the whip against my tired heart. Of all my aching parts, my cardiovascular system labored on the most painfully. I was in pain throughout the first mile and thought, oh god, I feel like this after one mile? The second mile felt twice as bad and I thought for sure that little engine in my chest was going to stall and I'd find myself lying on my side, huffing and puffing like the song from a wind-up music box coming to its sad end.

Yet I continued on into an equally painful Mile Three, with members of my group finally catching and passing me. I'd left early to shorten the amount of time the coaches would have to wait for me to come back at the end, knowing I'd be stumbling in at a much slower pace than usual. Mile Four was surprisingly pleasant. I started to feel the strength and confidence I used to feel throughout most of my long runs. I felt like I could go on like that forever.

Yesterday, forever lasted exactly 1.5 miles.

I wanted to push on to run at least 5, but I had to slow down a bit. Then I got to 5 and wondered what all the fuss had been about, deciding to just go for my old routine and not make any significant stops or walk breaks until I hit the halfway mark. I did stop at each water fountain along the way (probably 3 or 4 of them?), but only long enough to take two long draughts and a careful final swallow. Those were more like pauses than stops. In the end, I never took any extended walk breaks like the ones I used to take midway through a run and then again three-quarters of the way through. I think this is because of my new fueling technique.

For the first time since I started this running business, I left my Clif bar at home. Instead, I brought with me a pack of sport beans and two packs of Clif shot blocks. (This was the recommended amount for a workout of that length.) I ate half of the pack of beans before the run and then the rest in 3 more doses of 4-6 beans along the way. I ended up eating only two shot blocks, and I even spit out half of the first one when I couldn't swallow it or keep it in my mouth any longer. The shot blocks were really helpful because I love (and I mean *love*) the texture in my mouth. (Just like my favorite gummy candies.) Of course, there's a lot more to them than just sugar, so the first one early in the run (after mile 3) was a little too much for my system, thus its unceremonious end on the grass alongside the trail. I sucked on it for a while, drank some water, more sucking, more water... got hungry and bit it in half and gobbled a little chunk down, lots more water, and then more sucking for as long as I could stand it in my mouth.

I don't remember when I ate the sport beans, but it was pretty much whenever water was tasting too watery, gatorade wasn't giving me enough of a kick, and shot blocks seemed too substantial. I think between these products, I may have a winning combination of fuels for the big day. I also still have some other gummy sport candies to try next week. I picked up these candies called sharkies when I went to REI for the sport beans and shot blocks. I like them because they remind me of childhood (at least from what I could tell from the packaging). I'll throw those in my little pouch for next week instead of the second back of shot blocks and I should be good to go.

I know I should have done a recovery run this morning, but I skipped it to catch up on sleep. Since I had a late reservation at the Prime Rib on Friday night for restaurant week, I only had about 3.5 hours of sleep before the run. I made up for it with a shameful amount last night/this morning. There could still be time for a little recovery action this evening, but I've got my other restaurant week dinner date and I'm not missing out on the hot culinary action and fine wine. I'm even taking the metro so I can actually drink tonight!

Incidentally, that prime rib was the best pre-run dinner I've ever had. I wish I could do that every week!

Labels: long run, prime rib, restaurant week, Riley's Rumble, shot blocks, sport beans

I keep meaning to go back and write out the details of each run so I can benefit from my notes about all the variables later on down the road (say, in about 16 weeks), but I've barely even had the time or energy to run, let alone document all of the little things that happened or even update my run log before today.

Let's just say it's been a rough 3 weeks at work, and it isn't over yet. Overtime really sucks, but some things just need to be done. The source of my livelihood has to come before the source of my liveliness, much as I'd like it to be the other way around. My boss swears to me that we're hiring someone this week so I can have help by the 16th at latest. I'm not holding my breath, but I think it will be safe to start asserting my own personal needs that day in case the inhuman workloads continue, whether a person is hired or not. One more week of a crippled training schedule, I can handle (barely). More than that, not so much.

I guess the thing for me to keep in mind is that it is also JULY and not just that I am "losing conditioning" by skipping out on my shorter runs during the week. Every time I do get a chance to be out there, it is between 5:00 and 10:00pm, and hotter than Hades. I have also been too self conscious to wear my fuel belt to run around campus because all of the college students will laugh at me, but I'm beginning to realize that I just don't care (and they probably don't really care enough to laugh either). I'd rather run than not run, and I'd rather look like a dork than have my body overheat so that I have to cut the trip short every time.

Last week's long run was pretty much agony. I started out with the best attitude I had, but I clearly didn't eat enough the night before. In fact, I had fallen asleep without dinner. As important as it is for me to get proper amounts of sleep in order to feel good while running, I discovered that filling up the old gas tank is more important. I need to have a big hearty dinner the night before a long run and there ain't no bones about it.

This Friday, I ate like a champ and drank so much water I thought it was going to start leaking out of my ears. I woke up 3 times in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. Then I woke up and had an apple before I went on my way, feeling pretty damn good. I brought just enough water and watered down gatorade (4 of water and 2 of 1:4 diluted gatorade), half of a clif bar and some sport beans. I probably could have eaten a bigger breakfast or brought 3/4 of a clif bar, but that was okay. I didn't get really hungry until the last mile and I just had to squeak that one out. Thank goodness for the bananas at the end. It's nice to have food and cold drinks waiting for you after you clean out your supply during the long run.

All in all, this 10 miles was breezy and I am in fine shape, considering how little training I've been doing for going on a month now. Last week I tried a walk break every mile (probably added to my agony) but this week I went back to my halfway rule. I try to break down the distance and get "just past halfway" before taking any significant breaks. I ran the 5 miles with no stops, only slowing down near mile 4 to digest some clif bar and let the water soak into my system, then I stopped to walk after the aid station at the turn around. Here, I really needed to hit the 'reset' button. Even though I would like not to walk more than a tenth of a mile at a time, I had just run 5 straight, so it seemed the thing to do.

I walked for about three tenths of a mile, drinking up and letting my body cool down and my joints rest. I lengthened my stride and took exaggerated steps to let some different muscles get in on the action. Then I started up again and felt pretty good. I knew I'd need to walk another 1-2 times so I stuck with my halfway rule again and said to myself that I'd walk after mile 7 and then again at about mile 8.5 in order to break the last 5 miles into a 2-1.5-1.5 deal. When I got to 7, I felt a little shameful since I'd walked more than a quarter mile at my last break, so I thought I'd just hold out for mile 8 and then walk.

A quarter mile before I got there, my stomach started to seriously devour itself. So, 7 and three-quarters it was! I chowed down on the last big bite of clif bar, munched a sport bean and drank down most of my fluids leaving just one bottle for the last couple of miles. It felt sinful to walk, but at least I knew I'd earned it (unlike the multiple, truly sinful walk breaks I'd taken last week). I was surprised to discover today that I averaged under a 13:30 pace. I had set my forerunner to yell at me if I dropped below a 14-min pace and that wretched little thing kept beeping at me every time I paused to sneeze! Harumph.

Labels: body fuel, food, long run, sport beans