This has been the craziest month. Life has caught up with me and I'd like to just stop it for a while until I can get a grip. I am snatching a few moments for myself to write this between wiping another snotty nose and giving out more Tylenol. Someone in my house has been sick every day since December 22. Seriously. We have been through two rounds of strep throat, a trip to the E.R. for stitches, four doctor visits and now the Flu. Everyone who's gotten the Flu in our house had their Flu shots! I've had work piled on me like an avalanche and I only work part time. I have been up late every night with work or sick kids for almost two weeks. If all of that was not enough to make me a little nuts, I had a student call me two weeks ago today and ask me if it would be possible for them to live with us for a while. My husband being the gracious man that he is said yes when I asked him, so now I have five kids to feed, mother and chauffeur instead of four. Chasing two teen-age schedules while managing three little ones is exhausting! I need another driver!
With all of the events this month needing my attention, my running schedule has more than taken a backseat. I think it got packed in the trunk. Week before last I only got in 12 miles. Last week I ran just 10 miles! I haven't had a long run in almost three weeks now and I have a 15K race coming up in 16 days. YIKES! I have definitely been worried about my level of preparation.
Yesterday, I insisted that I had to get in my tempo run for the week. I went out when my husband came home for lunch planning to run six miles in one hour, sixteen seconds, or at a 10:02 per mile pace. I ran the first mile in 9:46, clearly faster than the plan, but I was feeling great and was enjoying the pace so I kept going without slowing. I continued to flow through every mile keeping a sub ten minute pace. I finished the run with an average 9:55 pace and a total run time of 58 minutes, 35 seconds. That is huge for me! I could not do that in December at the half marathon in Las Cruces. I tried, but fell to a ten minute plus pace by mile four. I was amazed by the fact I had improved my running time even though my training has been less than stellar. My motivation to keep on going no matter the obstacles has definitely gotten a shot of adrenaline!
This blog is a journal of my running experiences. I want to put down my thoughts as a beginning runner while I am still a beginner!
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
My First Race
You know you are a runner when...
That question can be answered a hundred different ways. For me, the first time I would have had an ending for that sentence would have been when I registered for and ran my first race. It was a VERY big deal. I had decided that a race would be a good way for me to set a running goal and push myself to a measurable achievement. However, I had never done anything remotely competitive that required athleticism from me. All of my competitive experience to that point had involved music. Keeping that in mind, I decided that my first race should be an un-timed, completely non-competitive event. Something relatively short like a 5K or less. Something where everyone was having a good time. Something like the Susan G. Komen Race For The Cure. I could push myself to run the whole race (a challenge for me, I promise) and raise money for a wonderful organization at the same time. I went on-line and got signed up for our local Komen race just six weeks before the race date.
To say I was nervous would be a grand understatement. This race was a huge leap out of my comfort zone. I have raised money plenty of times, though, so I really got into the fundraising portion of my goal and pushed the actual race to the back of my mind. I stayed on a regular
running schedule, but I ended up with pretty bad shin splints and bursitis in my left hip about a month out from the race. I kept running. Then three weeks pre-race I developed a stress fracture in my right tibia. I was so upset. I had set a goal, raised money and told everyone that I would be running the race. I had a choice to make. Either give up and quit the race or take time off the pavement and cross train during my down-time, hoping it would be enough to get me across the finish line before they started taking everything down!
Giving up is not an option. Ever. That is my life motto. I tell that to my kids all the time. This race gave me an opportunity to show them perseverance in action. Let me tell you, I absolutely HATED not running. I do not like the Elliptical, but I used it frequently during my off-pavement time. I went 17 straight days without stepping foot out my door to run. I bought calf compression sleeves and prayed I was healed enough to manage a three mile run.
When I left for the race that perfect, October morning none of the kids were awake yet. I ate my Nutrigrain bar in the peace of the early morning and left with a sleepy "Good Luck" from my husband. I got to the race site in downtown Lubbock much too early, but since I had no idea what to expect at a race, I thought I had better be early. I stood in the cold for almost an hour before race start. I watched other runners warming up and decided to copy some of what I saw them doing. This was scary. These people, a lot of them anyway, looked like real runners. I felt like a fraud. I did not look like a runner. I was in pretty good shape, but I did not look like a runner. I had been running for over three months, but I did not feel like a runner at all. Not standing in that crowd, with a high school track team standing to my left and a middle-aged track star on my right. I said a silent prayer that I would not look as foolish as I felt.
The gun went off and for a moment it was like watching a stampede. A teenager tripped near the front of the crowd and a mass of runners had to divert course while being bumped into from those behind them who did not know someone was down. The kid got back up as quickly as possible and everyone was free to run. There were people flying past me at ridiculous speeds, most of them young. I was passed by an entire high school baseball team! I ignored them to the best of my ability and focused on running a steady pace that would not further damage my leg. Before I knew it, mile one was past me and I was coming up to the speedster baseball team again. Most of them had slowed to a walk and were huffing and puffing their little hearts away, but they were laughing as well. They were watching middle-aged runners pass them by and thought it was hilarious they could not keep up with a bunch of adults. When a woman passed them who was clearly in the senior discount age group, one of the boys doubled over in a laughing fit and squeezed out, "Even Grandma can run faster than me!"
I almost made it without walking the course, but toward the end I admit that I did slow to walk for about one minute. Then the crowd was encouraging everyone to run harder. I watched a couple of friends encouraging another man to pick up his pace and I knew I had to run it in to the finish. I crossed the finish line in 32 minutes. I only know that because I had my watch to check the time. Not a great time, but not a terrible time for a beginner's first race.
What I took away from my first race was not anything tangible. Rather, I had a mental shift in my perception of myself. I stood at the finish line for quite a while watching the hundreds of runners who finished after me. What I realized as I reflected on my effort that morning was that I became a runner the moment I decided to run, and run, and run again. It was not the shoes or the watch or the special gear that made me a runner. Size, age, speed or distance do not make a runner. A person does not even have to understand negative splits or tempo runs to be a runner. What makes a person a runner is completely internal: heart, desire, spirit and a love of being a part of the greater world outside the confines of four walls. I had all of those standing in the chill that morning. Now when people ask me what I am doing to stay in shape, I proudly say, "I am a runner".
That question can be answered a hundred different ways. For me, the first time I would have had an ending for that sentence would have been when I registered for and ran my first race. It was a VERY big deal. I had decided that a race would be a good way for me to set a running goal and push myself to a measurable achievement. However, I had never done anything remotely competitive that required athleticism from me. All of my competitive experience to that point had involved music. Keeping that in mind, I decided that my first race should be an un-timed, completely non-competitive event. Something relatively short like a 5K or less. Something where everyone was having a good time. Something like the Susan G. Komen Race For The Cure. I could push myself to run the whole race (a challenge for me, I promise) and raise money for a wonderful organization at the same time. I went on-line and got signed up for our local Komen race just six weeks before the race date.
To say I was nervous would be a grand understatement. This race was a huge leap out of my comfort zone. I have raised money plenty of times, though, so I really got into the fundraising portion of my goal and pushed the actual race to the back of my mind. I stayed on a regular
running schedule, but I ended up with pretty bad shin splints and bursitis in my left hip about a month out from the race. I kept running. Then three weeks pre-race I developed a stress fracture in my right tibia. I was so upset. I had set a goal, raised money and told everyone that I would be running the race. I had a choice to make. Either give up and quit the race or take time off the pavement and cross train during my down-time, hoping it would be enough to get me across the finish line before they started taking everything down!
Giving up is not an option. Ever. That is my life motto. I tell that to my kids all the time. This race gave me an opportunity to show them perseverance in action. Let me tell you, I absolutely HATED not running. I do not like the Elliptical, but I used it frequently during my off-pavement time. I went 17 straight days without stepping foot out my door to run. I bought calf compression sleeves and prayed I was healed enough to manage a three mile run.
When I left for the race that perfect, October morning none of the kids were awake yet. I ate my Nutrigrain bar in the peace of the early morning and left with a sleepy "Good Luck" from my husband. I got to the race site in downtown Lubbock much too early, but since I had no idea what to expect at a race, I thought I had better be early. I stood in the cold for almost an hour before race start. I watched other runners warming up and decided to copy some of what I saw them doing. This was scary. These people, a lot of them anyway, looked like real runners. I felt like a fraud. I did not look like a runner. I was in pretty good shape, but I did not look like a runner. I had been running for over three months, but I did not feel like a runner at all. Not standing in that crowd, with a high school track team standing to my left and a middle-aged track star on my right. I said a silent prayer that I would not look as foolish as I felt.
The gun went off and for a moment it was like watching a stampede. A teenager tripped near the front of the crowd and a mass of runners had to divert course while being bumped into from those behind them who did not know someone was down. The kid got back up as quickly as possible and everyone was free to run. There were people flying past me at ridiculous speeds, most of them young. I was passed by an entire high school baseball team! I ignored them to the best of my ability and focused on running a steady pace that would not further damage my leg. Before I knew it, mile one was past me and I was coming up to the speedster baseball team again. Most of them had slowed to a walk and were huffing and puffing their little hearts away, but they were laughing as well. They were watching middle-aged runners pass them by and thought it was hilarious they could not keep up with a bunch of adults. When a woman passed them who was clearly in the senior discount age group, one of the boys doubled over in a laughing fit and squeezed out, "Even Grandma can run faster than me!"
I almost made it without walking the course, but toward the end I admit that I did slow to walk for about one minute. Then the crowd was encouraging everyone to run harder. I watched a couple of friends encouraging another man to pick up his pace and I knew I had to run it in to the finish. I crossed the finish line in 32 minutes. I only know that because I had my watch to check the time. Not a great time, but not a terrible time for a beginner's first race.
What I took away from my first race was not anything tangible. Rather, I had a mental shift in my perception of myself. I stood at the finish line for quite a while watching the hundreds of runners who finished after me. What I realized as I reflected on my effort that morning was that I became a runner the moment I decided to run, and run, and run again. It was not the shoes or the watch or the special gear that made me a runner. Size, age, speed or distance do not make a runner. A person does not even have to understand negative splits or tempo runs to be a runner. What makes a person a runner is completely internal: heart, desire, spirit and a love of being a part of the greater world outside the confines of four walls. I had all of those standing in the chill that morning. Now when people ask me what I am doing to stay in shape, I proudly say, "I am a runner".
Friday, January 7, 2011
Blonde Moments Are Priceless!
The other day (1/5/11) I went out for my first run in the new shoes. I was really excited about getting out to the track so I guess I was a bit distracted. I forgot to set the interval timer on my watch before I left. I always take care of setting the time on my watch when I am planning on track repeats because I am notoriously bad at pacing otherwise. As I was walking out the door, my five year old asked to go with me, causing me more distraction. He had been asking to join me for several days so I decided to go ahead and let him come along. He climbed on his bike and away we went.
We reached the track and as Connor was getting his bike stowed away so he could play at the playground in the middle of the park, I was finishing up my warm-up around the track. I stopped when I finished my warm-up mile and set the timer on my watch for a 2 minute 10 second pace per 400 meters. Then I set my Nike GPS app on my phone to keep track of my distance. I was thinking I would run four, 400 meter repeats with 200 meter rest intervals in between. I set my run distance for three miles and started my workout. Notice I said three miles.
I was running the first interval at about 80 percent of my full effort when the first timer went off. I looked down at my distance and was distressed when I saw that I had only covered .3 of a mile. I thought maybe I really was not running as I hard as I should have been and decided to step it up on the next try. I bolted down the track the second time at closer to 90 percent of my full effort. The timer went off and I checked my distance only to see I had covered the exact same area - .3 of a mile. I was really beginning to worry that I had seriously lost some speed during the holidays. Rather than beat myself up over it, I changed the timer to give myself 2 minutes 30 seconds to get the 400 meters completed and started interval three. I still put out at least 80 percent effort. Again the timer went off and this time my distance read .33 of a mile. "What the heck is going on?", I asked myself. There was a part of me that wanted to give up and head home, but that is just not the way I roll. "Give up" is not in my vocabulary. I figured all I could do was continue the work out and do the best I could, even if I was running below my expectations.
I took off for interval four mulling over my perplexing situation. One minute 48 seconds into the interval, the light bulb turned on in my head. I literally smacked myself in the forehead with the palm of my hand. (By the way, I do not recommend doing that in a public place!) I had been using miles to gauge meters. 400 meters does not equal .4 of a mile. In fact, when I had been hitting .3 of a mile in my allotted time, I had actually been running 482 meters, well over the 400 meters I was attempting. I felt completely ridiculous and more than a little air-headed. However, I did not quit my workout. Instead, I chose to make it a lot more fun for me. I switched to running 40 steps at an all-out pace for me, then 40 steps at a relaxed, recovery jog. After six sets I called it a night feeling just a bit better about my goofy mix-up. And when Connor asked me if I had a good run, I just smiled at him and said, "You bet I did!"
We reached the track and as Connor was getting his bike stowed away so he could play at the playground in the middle of the park, I was finishing up my warm-up around the track. I stopped when I finished my warm-up mile and set the timer on my watch for a 2 minute 10 second pace per 400 meters. Then I set my Nike GPS app on my phone to keep track of my distance. I was thinking I would run four, 400 meter repeats with 200 meter rest intervals in between. I set my run distance for three miles and started my workout. Notice I said three miles.
I was running the first interval at about 80 percent of my full effort when the first timer went off. I looked down at my distance and was distressed when I saw that I had only covered .3 of a mile. I thought maybe I really was not running as I hard as I should have been and decided to step it up on the next try. I bolted down the track the second time at closer to 90 percent of my full effort. The timer went off and I checked my distance only to see I had covered the exact same area - .3 of a mile. I was really beginning to worry that I had seriously lost some speed during the holidays. Rather than beat myself up over it, I changed the timer to give myself 2 minutes 30 seconds to get the 400 meters completed and started interval three. I still put out at least 80 percent effort. Again the timer went off and this time my distance read .33 of a mile. "What the heck is going on?", I asked myself. There was a part of me that wanted to give up and head home, but that is just not the way I roll. "Give up" is not in my vocabulary. I figured all I could do was continue the work out and do the best I could, even if I was running below my expectations.
I took off for interval four mulling over my perplexing situation. One minute 48 seconds into the interval, the light bulb turned on in my head. I literally smacked myself in the forehead with the palm of my hand. (By the way, I do not recommend doing that in a public place!) I had been using miles to gauge meters. 400 meters does not equal .4 of a mile. In fact, when I had been hitting .3 of a mile in my allotted time, I had actually been running 482 meters, well over the 400 meters I was attempting. I felt completely ridiculous and more than a little air-headed. However, I did not quit my workout. Instead, I chose to make it a lot more fun for me. I switched to running 40 steps at an all-out pace for me, then 40 steps at a relaxed, recovery jog. After six sets I called it a night feeling just a bit better about my goofy mix-up. And when Connor asked me if I had a good run, I just smiled at him and said, "You bet I did!"
Thursday, January 6, 2011
New Shoes - Again! Third Time's A Charm, I Hope.
I have been having all sorts of trouble with running injuries. I have had runner's "black toe", shin splints, a stress fracture, Iliotibial Band Syndrome and Achilles tendon pain. Most people would suffer one injury, maybe two and then just quit running. Not me. I am not about to give up my best solution for weight control and fitness. Not when I sincerely love running so much.
As a new runner, I had no knowledge about the sport of running. The only thing I knew when I started running was that runner's needed to be in running shoes, not tennis shoes or cross trainers. After my first two months of running and coming to the decision that this was going to be a new way of life for me, I decided to purchase my first pair of running shoes. I went online and did some research on the newest models and brands of shoes and raced off to the chain athletic shoe store with a list in my hand of which shoes I wanted to try. I left the shoe store with my new Asics Gel Nimbus 12 shoes feeling great about having real running equipment.
My first hint that my wonderful shoes (and they are great if they are the right shoe for the person wearing them) could be causing me trouble came when I experienced "black toe". I finished a run and took off my shoes to find that my first and second toes on my right foot were actually bleeding beneath the toenails. Horrified by my discovery, I immediately went to my laptop and researched my injury to find the cause. I was so sad to find out that my shoes were the culprit. Thus began more in depth research into running shoes.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered there are three different basic types of running shoes and they are made to fit three different basic gaits of runners. I read every article Runner's World had online about the subject. They recommended have my gait analyzed at an experienced running shoe store, but we do not have that in Lubbock. We do have a running shoe store here, though, so off to the store I went with a bit more knowledge about my feet and what my gait might be. Unfortunately, I allowed the salesperson to talk me into a pair of shoes I knew nothing about. I laced up my new Brooks Ravennas and thought I had found the cure for all of my problems, which at this point included shin splints and a stress fracture. The new shoes eliminated my shin splint and stress fracture pain and my toes were healing nicely.
Everything was smooth sailing for about six weeks. Then I went out for a 12 mile run which included some time that I would have to be on concrete sidewalks. By mile eight I was having pain that I had never had before. The outside of my left knee began to ache and progressively got worse as the run continued. By the time I got home, I knew I was in serious trouble. The pain was centered on my knee, but I could feel it up the side of my leg as well. Sitting still for any length of time or going up and down stairs intensified the pain. Back to the laptop for more research. This time I had a good idea that my pain was because of the shoes, but I could not be sure until someone with expertise helped me. I found what looked like a good shoe store in Dallas, but I could not just drop everything and head to Dallas. Even if I did, I had a race coming up and knew changing shoes at that point was not a good idea.
The opportunity to take a road trip finally came last weekend. I had to be in Dallas to pick up my oldest son from a visit to his dad. Before we headed back to Lubbock, I dragged all of my kids to check out "Luke's Locker" with me. There, I had a wonderful salesperson named Chris who devoted an hour to analyzing my gait and fitting me to new shoes. He had me walk and run barefoot on the in-store track and the treadmill. He showed me (in a mirror in front of the treadmill) why my gait is neutral. Next, he had me put on my Asics that I had brought with me
and do the same things. He showed me why the neutral, but heavy Asics caused my shin splints and stress fracture. He was clearly surprised that anyone who knew shoes would put me in a stability shoe like the Ravenna and explained why that shoe had caused ITBS and my latest Achilles pain. I finally walked out of the store with a new pair of Brooks Defynace 4 running shoes. I went for my first run yesterday in them and felt great. Running pain free was really nice. I am just hoping this lasts for longer than six weeks!
Just so I do not leave you with the impression that children ages five, three and one could sit through an hour at a shoe store with mom, my 14 year old son, Justin, sat in the car right in front of the store with the three and one year old boys. They were both sound asleep and no one wanted to disturb that!
As a new runner, I had no knowledge about the sport of running. The only thing I knew when I started running was that runner's needed to be in running shoes, not tennis shoes or cross trainers. After my first two months of running and coming to the decision that this was going to be a new way of life for me, I decided to purchase my first pair of running shoes. I went online and did some research on the newest models and brands of shoes and raced off to the chain athletic shoe store with a list in my hand of which shoes I wanted to try. I left the shoe store with my new Asics Gel Nimbus 12 shoes feeling great about having real running equipment.
My first hint that my wonderful shoes (and they are great if they are the right shoe for the person wearing them) could be causing me trouble came when I experienced "black toe". I finished a run and took off my shoes to find that my first and second toes on my right foot were actually bleeding beneath the toenails. Horrified by my discovery, I immediately went to my laptop and researched my injury to find the cause. I was so sad to find out that my shoes were the culprit. Thus began more in depth research into running shoes.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered there are three different basic types of running shoes and they are made to fit three different basic gaits of runners. I read every article Runner's World had online about the subject. They recommended have my gait analyzed at an experienced running shoe store, but we do not have that in Lubbock. We do have a running shoe store here, though, so off to the store I went with a bit more knowledge about my feet and what my gait might be. Unfortunately, I allowed the salesperson to talk me into a pair of shoes I knew nothing about. I laced up my new Brooks Ravennas and thought I had found the cure for all of my problems, which at this point included shin splints and a stress fracture. The new shoes eliminated my shin splint and stress fracture pain and my toes were healing nicely.
Everything was smooth sailing for about six weeks. Then I went out for a 12 mile run which included some time that I would have to be on concrete sidewalks. By mile eight I was having pain that I had never had before. The outside of my left knee began to ache and progressively got worse as the run continued. By the time I got home, I knew I was in serious trouble. The pain was centered on my knee, but I could feel it up the side of my leg as well. Sitting still for any length of time or going up and down stairs intensified the pain. Back to the laptop for more research. This time I had a good idea that my pain was because of the shoes, but I could not be sure until someone with expertise helped me. I found what looked like a good shoe store in Dallas, but I could not just drop everything and head to Dallas. Even if I did, I had a race coming up and knew changing shoes at that point was not a good idea.
The opportunity to take a road trip finally came last weekend. I had to be in Dallas to pick up my oldest son from a visit to his dad. Before we headed back to Lubbock, I dragged all of my kids to check out "Luke's Locker" with me. There, I had a wonderful salesperson named Chris who devoted an hour to analyzing my gait and fitting me to new shoes. He had me walk and run barefoot on the in-store track and the treadmill. He showed me (in a mirror in front of the treadmill) why my gait is neutral. Next, he had me put on my Asics that I had brought with me
and do the same things. He showed me why the neutral, but heavy Asics caused my shin splints and stress fracture. He was clearly surprised that anyone who knew shoes would put me in a stability shoe like the Ravenna and explained why that shoe had caused ITBS and my latest Achilles pain. I finally walked out of the store with a new pair of Brooks Defynace 4 running shoes. I went for my first run yesterday in them and felt great. Running pain free was really nice. I am just hoping this lasts for longer than six weeks!
Just so I do not leave you with the impression that children ages five, three and one could sit through an hour at a shoe store with mom, my 14 year old son, Justin, sat in the car right in front of the store with the three and one year old boys. They were both sound asleep and no one wanted to disturb that!
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
The Best Run Ever!
I ran my very first Half Marathon December 18th, 2010. I did not have the time I needed to be trained for this race at all. I had run my first 10K just five weeks prior to the HM and really needed more preparation, but I had already signed up. There was no way I was going to back out. I prepared the best I could in the given time, running regular speed, tempo and long run workouts as well as cross training on my rest days. I ran my longest run two weeks before race day, a 12 mile out-and-back that left me with a brand new injury - iliotibial band syndrome (ITBS). Still, that run gave me confidence that I could make it through a half marathon (13.1 miles), even if I had to slog it the whole way.
My best friend and I left Lubbock for the race, which was to be held in Las Cruces, New Mexico, with plenty of time to make the six hour drive and get to the race packet pick-up before it ended, or so I thought. However, a missed turn in Lovington, NM took us out of our way by almost an hour. We arrived at packet pick-up with just 15 minutes to spare! I relaxed that evening, but still got very little sleep.
The next morning was a chilly 42 degrees, but I think that works out to be nice race weather. I knew I would not get so warm that I would have to remove layers of clothing. It was so exciting to be warming up next to all of the other half marathoners. I actually felt like an athlete standing there at the starting line waiting to get on the road. I have begun to find it easy to say I am a runner, but I do not feel like an athlete most of the time. The word athlete brings to mind professionals, and I am far from that! That morning, though, the brisk air felt electric with the energy of so many bodies all poised to meet their personal records. I could not help but feel like an athlete.
Then we were off. There was no gun to start the throng of runners, just a loud "Go" from the race director. Many of the runners did not even realize the race had started. I decided to set an ambitious 9:50 pace at the start knowing I would not be able to maintain it over 13.1 miles, but I was not concerned. I had decided to simply have fun running and not worry when I slowed down. I knew I was undertrained. This race wasn't about beating someone else's time. My first HM was about proving two things to myself: I was capable of running 13.1 miles without having to walk and I could come in under 2:19:00. I really believed I could do both.
I intentionally planned my fun during this race. The scenery was at it's best through the first half, so I made sure to look around me. We don't have many trees in West Texas and certainly no mountains where I live, so I really soaked in every detail. Before heading to the race, I set up a half marathon play list. I set up the best, up-tempo tunes for after the half way point in the run to give me inspiration to keep my feet moving at a good pace. Once I passed the water station marking halfway and the tunes kicked in, I really started having fun. I am sure there were other runners who thought I was crazy, but I could not keep from jamming out. I didn't do anything super cheesy like singing out loud, but I did let myself dance a bit (upper body). I was truly having the time of my life out there. I am not going to lie, though. Mile 12 was tough. I started to have a bad cramp in the achilles tendon of my right leg and thought it was going to completely seize up on me. I focused all of my energy on working through the pain and adjusting my stride to alleviate as much of the cramping as possible. To my surprise, it worked. By the last 600 meters I was able to open it up and pick up speed to sprint to the finish.
I ended the race elated that I had actually managed to run the entire race. No walking for this woman! I ran an average 10:26 per mile pace and finished in 2 hours, 16 minutes and 4o seconds. I placed 8th in my age division and 71st out of 143 female runners. I made it into the top half of the women! None of the times or places mattered at the finish for me, though. Running was what mattered. Running the entire race completely changed the way I see myself. There is so much power in knowing I can run 13 miles. I accomplished an amazing feat in less than six months. Before June 25, I could not even run a half mile. Now I am a runner training for my next half marathon in Dallas with plans to run my first marathon this fall. That day at the finish line, I felt like a conquering heroine! Beware, though. If you decide to try this for yourself, you might just become addicted. I know I have!
My best friend and I left Lubbock for the race, which was to be held in Las Cruces, New Mexico, with plenty of time to make the six hour drive and get to the race packet pick-up before it ended, or so I thought. However, a missed turn in Lovington, NM took us out of our way by almost an hour. We arrived at packet pick-up with just 15 minutes to spare! I relaxed that evening, but still got very little sleep.
The next morning was a chilly 42 degrees, but I think that works out to be nice race weather. I knew I would not get so warm that I would have to remove layers of clothing. It was so exciting to be warming up next to all of the other half marathoners. I actually felt like an athlete standing there at the starting line waiting to get on the road. I have begun to find it easy to say I am a runner, but I do not feel like an athlete most of the time. The word athlete brings to mind professionals, and I am far from that! That morning, though, the brisk air felt electric with the energy of so many bodies all poised to meet their personal records. I could not help but feel like an athlete.
Then we were off. There was no gun to start the throng of runners, just a loud "Go" from the race director. Many of the runners did not even realize the race had started. I decided to set an ambitious 9:50 pace at the start knowing I would not be able to maintain it over 13.1 miles, but I was not concerned. I had decided to simply have fun running and not worry when I slowed down. I knew I was undertrained. This race wasn't about beating someone else's time. My first HM was about proving two things to myself: I was capable of running 13.1 miles without having to walk and I could come in under 2:19:00. I really believed I could do both.
I intentionally planned my fun during this race. The scenery was at it's best through the first half, so I made sure to look around me. We don't have many trees in West Texas and certainly no mountains where I live, so I really soaked in every detail. Before heading to the race, I set up a half marathon play list. I set up the best, up-tempo tunes for after the half way point in the run to give me inspiration to keep my feet moving at a good pace. Once I passed the water station marking halfway and the tunes kicked in, I really started having fun. I am sure there were other runners who thought I was crazy, but I could not keep from jamming out. I didn't do anything super cheesy like singing out loud, but I did let myself dance a bit (upper body). I was truly having the time of my life out there. I am not going to lie, though. Mile 12 was tough. I started to have a bad cramp in the achilles tendon of my right leg and thought it was going to completely seize up on me. I focused all of my energy on working through the pain and adjusting my stride to alleviate as much of the cramping as possible. To my surprise, it worked. By the last 600 meters I was able to open it up and pick up speed to sprint to the finish.
I ended the race elated that I had actually managed to run the entire race. No walking for this woman! I ran an average 10:26 per mile pace and finished in 2 hours, 16 minutes and 4o seconds. I placed 8th in my age division and 71st out of 143 female runners. I made it into the top half of the women! None of the times or places mattered at the finish for me, though. Running was what mattered. Running the entire race completely changed the way I see myself. There is so much power in knowing I can run 13 miles. I accomplished an amazing feat in less than six months. Before June 25, I could not even run a half mile. Now I am a runner training for my next half marathon in Dallas with plans to run my first marathon this fall. That day at the finish line, I felt like a conquering heroine! Beware, though. If you decide to try this for yourself, you might just become addicted. I know I have!
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
The Jogging Stroller
I went out for a run this afternoon for the very first time with my baby boy in a jogging stroller. I have been wanting a jogging stroller for a long time, but as you already know I am cheap and therefore would not shell out the money (which I find so hard to come by) on what I considered to be an exorbitantly expensive stroller. (Price them and you will see what I mean.) However, I have met a number of other moms at my boys' preschool and a couple of them are runners as well. We began discussing our running schedules and how we manage training with our family demands. I mentioned that I have difficulty getting a run some days because I am not ready to trust my oldest with watching the baby yet. One of the moms had a jogging stroller in good condition that she was no longer using and volunteered to sell it to me for fifty dollars! Problem solved!
I planned a fairly easy run of five miles. From the beginning, I had a difficult time figuring out my pacing. I had planned on a warm-up mile at an 11:30 min. pace. I knew I was working hard, but I thought the stroller and the weight of the baby were most likely the reason. I looked down at my watch at 3/4 of a mile to find that I was running on target for a 9:00 min. mile pace! Good grief! So much for a relaxed warm-up. The rest of the run was more of the same. Too fast, then too slow.
I could have gotten really frustrated and would have a month ago. A month ago, I would have been unhappy about not strictly following my training plan. At some point during the last four weeks of training for the half marathon, I have changed my attitude toward my individual runs. I am learning to treat every run as a good run, even if I did not accomplish what I had in mind for the day. I am trying to focus on the positive about every outing and leave the negative behind once I have culled the information needed to improve my performance.
I had fun taking the baby with me and he had a good time, too. I know I got in a good workout regardless of pacing. Best of all, I knew my money was not wasted when I found myself planning the next run with the baby!
I planned a fairly easy run of five miles. From the beginning, I had a difficult time figuring out my pacing. I had planned on a warm-up mile at an 11:30 min. pace. I knew I was working hard, but I thought the stroller and the weight of the baby were most likely the reason. I looked down at my watch at 3/4 of a mile to find that I was running on target for a 9:00 min. mile pace! Good grief! So much for a relaxed warm-up. The rest of the run was more of the same. Too fast, then too slow.
I could have gotten really frustrated and would have a month ago. A month ago, I would have been unhappy about not strictly following my training plan. At some point during the last four weeks of training for the half marathon, I have changed my attitude toward my individual runs. I am learning to treat every run as a good run, even if I did not accomplish what I had in mind for the day. I am trying to focus on the positive about every outing and leave the negative behind once I have culled the information needed to improve my performance.
I had fun taking the baby with me and he had a good time, too. I know I got in a good workout regardless of pacing. Best of all, I knew my money was not wasted when I found myself planning the next run with the baby!
The First Run
Lest you think I am a natural athlete whose talents simply lie dormant until I tapped into them, let me take this opportunity to disavow you of that notion. I was not involved in competitive athletics to any great degree when I was growing up. A single season in soccer and gymnastics classes that never resulted in any meets were my only athletic endeavors. Interestingly enough, I did try out for my middle school track team when I was in the seventh grade. My physical education teacher inspired me to run because it seemed to be the one sport in which I really showed promise. I didn't make the team because I was not a good sprinter. I was edged out by another girl for the last spot on the team. Looking back, I wish I had known that I could still be a good long distance runner and kept running in spite of not making the track team. That is not what happened, though. I tossed the tennis shoes after that school year was over.
I went out for my first run June 25, 2010. I waited until the kids were in bed sleeping before going out so it was already dark, but that is a good thing when you live in Texas during the summer. The temperatures outside were still in the mid 80's at 10:00pm. I would love to tell you I felt great after my first effort to get in shape, but that would be an enormous lie. The plan was to run 1.75 miles. Not much, I know, but I did not want to overdo it an end up injured after only one exercise session. I started off at a comfortable jog thinking, "This is going to be easy". I did not even make it to the halfway point before I had to stop and walk. I could not even run one mile! How humiliating. And humbling. I was out of breath and fatigued after so little work. I had done my homework though, and I knew that I needed to keep my heart rate up for better than twenty minutes or I would not see a change in my metabolism and I would not lose weight, which after all was the whole point of getting off the couch. So I kept on going, pushing myself to run as much as I could and fast walk what I could not. I did not keep a record of my time, but it did take over twenty minutes so I was at least able to be happy that I had accomplished one goal.
I went to bed that night feeling pretty discouraged by my poor performance, but more determined to make a change in my life than before the run. I got up the next morning and of course, had to step on the scale and see if there was any change. I was honestly surprised to see that I was one and a half pounds lighter than the day before. Really? After one run? That was it. I was sold. I knew I had found the key to losing weight for me. That was my initial motivation for getting in motion and kept me going until another motivation took its place. After that first run, I became focused and driven in a way I had not been about anything for a very long time.
I went out for my first run June 25, 2010. I waited until the kids were in bed sleeping before going out so it was already dark, but that is a good thing when you live in Texas during the summer. The temperatures outside were still in the mid 80's at 10:00pm. I would love to tell you I felt great after my first effort to get in shape, but that would be an enormous lie. The plan was to run 1.75 miles. Not much, I know, but I did not want to overdo it an end up injured after only one exercise session. I started off at a comfortable jog thinking, "This is going to be easy". I did not even make it to the halfway point before I had to stop and walk. I could not even run one mile! How humiliating. And humbling. I was out of breath and fatigued after so little work. I had done my homework though, and I knew that I needed to keep my heart rate up for better than twenty minutes or I would not see a change in my metabolism and I would not lose weight, which after all was the whole point of getting off the couch. So I kept on going, pushing myself to run as much as I could and fast walk what I could not. I did not keep a record of my time, but it did take over twenty minutes so I was at least able to be happy that I had accomplished one goal.
I went to bed that night feeling pretty discouraged by my poor performance, but more determined to make a change in my life than before the run. I got up the next morning and of course, had to step on the scale and see if there was any change. I was honestly surprised to see that I was one and a half pounds lighter than the day before. Really? After one run? That was it. I was sold. I knew I had found the key to losing weight for me. That was my initial motivation for getting in motion and kept me going until another motivation took its place. After that first run, I became focused and driven in a way I had not been about anything for a very long time.
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