How to train for a marathon in 3 weeks.

So, I have a marathon in 27 days.

I haven't ran 20 miles or more since April 2014.

I will probably die in 27 days.

Should I bail on the marathon? Yup. Will I? Nope. The thing is... even though I'm not trained to run a marathon, I am on a decent little streak of running and I am actually REALLY enjoying running right now. Sure, it's slow and it's a grind, but I kinda feel like a runner again. It's glorious.

*

So, I want to just plow through and try to run as much as possible before the race and then just suffer through it as best I can. (It will be a SLOW, LONG marathon). 

Here's the plan.

Weekend 1:

Saturday: 10 miles

Sunday: 16 miles

Weekend 2:

Friday: 10 miles

Saturday: Probably not much (traveling)

Sunday: 10 miles

Monday: 20 miles (I will probably die).

Weekend 3: 

Saturday: 12 miles

Sunday: 20 miles

Race Weekend:

Friday: 8 miles

Saturday: 5 miles

Sunday 26.2 miles.

Is this dumb? YUP. Will I injure myself? Maybe. Do I recommend this for other runners? Hell no. Will this be entertaining for you guys? Probably.

 I've made a huge mistake.

 

 

 * Thanks for the wins, Ol' Ball Coach.

 

Forcing It.

So, it's no secret that I kind took this summer off of running. I mean, yeah, I was still running... but, I only ran when I wanted to (usually only if I had a partner to run with or when my dog needed some wearing out). Turns out... "when I wanted to" ended up being around 10-20 miles a week.

It was nice. But, I miss being in running shape, I miss being completely exhausted at the end of a run and then the feeling you get afterwards. I miss being a little creaky when I first get up after sitting for too long. I miss firing off emails to Coach explaining myself when I rearranged my training or ran my workout too fast. I miss annoying the fuck out of The KoB by picking his brain constantly about running.

 

 So, I thought it would be so easy to get back into my routine of stringing multiple days of running together and managing to actually run more than 25 miles a week. Turns out, I was wrong.

While I miss all those things ABOUT running. I actually don't miss the running part, apparently. So... that's a bummer. Since my goal race is in November, I can't really spend anymore time pussyfooting around. I'm having to force my running these days. Once I get out of the habit of being disciplined about something... I just end up going into super lazy mode. I mean SUPER lazy.

 

That fan is fucking disgusting, btw.

I gotta shake it though. I am really excited about my goal race, and it's time to start working for it. Starting with: actually getting my ass off the couch and onto the pavement. Operation Get Off your Fucking Ass and Get Motivated is officially engaged.

BQ Training Week 14

OMG. 14 weeks in the books. ONLY TWO MORE WEEKS LEFT!

Now is the time for me to chill the eff out. I'm all freaked out that I only hit a 70 mile week ONCE during this training cycle and I'm just generally afraid that I didn't do enough. Shouldn't I be MORE beat up? Shouldn't I want to lay in bed and sleep all day? WHY DO I FEEL LIKE I COULD KEEP GOING ON LIKE THIS FOR 6 MORE WEEKS? ACK!!!!!

Relax, yo.

Anyway, this week was rather exciting because I had a beer mile race on Friday and then The KoB had his goal race on Sunday. SPOILER ALERT: I suck and The KoB truly is a beast. Separate posts on both of those events to come.

Intervals: 3x 800, 600, 400, 200 @ 7:00 pace.
Marathon Pace: 8-10 miles with 2x15 minutes at Marathon Pace
Long: My choice of 14-20 miles.

The interval workout felt totally manageable for once. They were challenging enough that I needed a good amount of focus, but easy enough to make me feel really awesome for a few hours afterwards. Also, since the KoB was tapering, he ran the entire workout with me. Boom.

My marathon pace run went well because my BFF Melissa stepped in and did them with me. I was excited to talk about shopping* and general girly stuff. Yay. But at the end of that run, I started to feel an extreme tightness in my right butt cheek. Fun.

Saturday, I planned on running 20 miles as a last ditch confidence booster. I met up with a posse of The KoB, Steve, and Melissa and about 2 minutes in, my butt started hurting AGAIN. WTF?

It just felt stiff and tight and because of the tightness, my gait was all wonky and that made my pelvic/groan/hip region hurt. Awesome. It didn't keep me from running, but it did keep me from running fast-ish. so, I bailed after 13 miles. FAIL.

I'm convinced that it's the latest model of Vomeros that I bought a couple of weeks ago. I wore other shoes on Friday, Sunday, and today and while I didn't run more than 6 miles any of those times, I never had any hint of pain in my ass region. WHAT THE FUCK, NIKE? I don't understand why every new model of shoes has to CHANGE? Ugh. I went to 3 stores on Saturday searching for a pair of the old model in my size and have looked online and found nothing. My plan is not wear the new shoes again till after the race and I guess I'll just wear my old pair for the marathon. It's not ideal, because those shoes are worn the fuck out. But, at least my ass won't hurt for 26.2 miles.

Time to taper, bitches.

* To be fair, The KoB and I also talk about shopping while we run. Corvette shopping doesn't really count, though.

Race Report: Shelby Bottoms Boogie 15K

Otherwise known as... the first? race in this training cycle that kick my pansy ass.

Mistakes made:

1. I was actually excited about this race.

I hadn't ran a 15K in YEARS and considering the fact that I think the Half Marathon is my distance, I assumed that a 15K would be right in my wheelhouse these days. 

Lesson Learned: Going into a race with a cocky attitude, like you're going to be schooling bitches all day is just setting yourself up for failure.

2. Getting stuck behind a fuckton of slower runners at the start.

This race started 10 minutes after a 5K started. The 15K had to share a lane with the 5Kers on their way back. THE ROAD IS NOT THAT BIG. UGH. So, of course, I ran my first mile in like 7:20 instead of the 7:45ish that I was planning on.

Lesson Learned: Look at the course maps before the race and either line up closer to the front, or just try to adjust strategy to start out even slower and not worry about all the people that are in front of me lollygagging (particularly because they all ended up passing me in the last 2 miles of the fucking race because I was dying).

3. Engaging in a Battle Royale at miles 1-2 with the woman who would eventually win the damn thing.

After I had passed everyone that I felt like I needed to pass in the first 5 minutes of the race, I settled into a good spot and put cruise control on. Until some woman ran up to me. I'm sure that I instinctually picked up my pace a bit when she got there (duh). But instead of just powering by me, she settled in right next to me. I'd speed up a bit to lose her... she'd speed up. I'd slow down a bit to shake her... she'd slow down. I'd move to the left to avoid something on the road, she'd STAY IN HER SAME SPOT. And if I had to move further away from her, she'd move CLOSER TO ME. At this point, we had the whole road and she was on me like white on rice. It was driving me crazy. Finally, I was like... fine bitch, you wanna race. LET'S RACE. And I picked it up and tried to hang on. 

I could hear her coughing and clearing her throat a bit and I thought to myself... ohhhh... yes... I got this bitch. Because, I was feeling good. I was ready to school bitches. We ran past a water stop and neither of us stopped. We were neck-in-neck for two miles. Eventually, I pulled ahead a couple of steps of her and she let me stay there and then she pulled ahead and blasted by me. And then she eventually ended up passing ALL the women ahead of us and winning the damn thing.

Lesson Learned: Don't let some bitch determine your race pace THAT EARLY IN THE RACE. I was so pissed at her... trying to RACE me at such an early point in the race. But, I guess, I was just as guilty... letting her duel me.

4. Letting myself just get more and more disgusted with myself.

By mile 4 or so, I was toast. And instead of just letting that go and trying to focus on finishing the race, I kept telling myself in my head how shitty I was and how terrible I felt. Which just made me feel worse and more shitty.

Lesson Learned: RUN, don't think!

5. Skipping all the water stops.

It was an unseasonably warm day and after my warm-up, getting ready to line up in the corral, my friend Jeff commented: "You look like you've already raced." Translation: Whoa, bitch... why are you already sweating your ass off?

Lesson Learned: Uh, it's hot out... DRINK SOME DAMN WATER.

6. A 250 calorie Breakfast before a 9 mile race isn't probably enough.

I just completely ran out of gas. Between that and the water and the sweating... I was practically hallucinating the last few miles. Although, I don't think I hallucinated The KoB's encouraging/disgusted look at me when the 500th girl easily passed me with about a mile to go.

Lesson Learned: Food is fuel, bitch.

In the end I finished with a very disappointing time. I went from the 6th female overall around mile 4 to not even placing in my age group. It was disgusting, it felt terrible and frankly, it was embarrassing. I just completely collapsed out there.

 The KoB was nice enough to run out and pace me for the last 

4-5 miles or so. JUST IN TIME TO WITNESS MY COLLAPSE.

Awesome!

See those fuckers behind me?

Yeah, I'm sure they passed me, too.

EVERYONE PASSED ME.

My race sucked ass. But, as soon as I crossed the finish line and caught my breath and got over my disgusting performance, I asked The KoB how the 5K went...

"Meh." He replied.

"Did you PR?"

Shrug.

"Did you win?"

"Meh."

"Did you place?"

"Meh."

 

 The KoB at the start of his race.

Stalking his prey.

 

Finally, I gave up and walked over to the results board.

HE FUCKING WON THE DAMN THING.

ASSHOLE!

At least we had something to celebrate. And honestly, I think having a bad race day was good for me. It reminded me that racing well doesn't come easy. I have to work for it and the stars have to align in just the right way or ya know, I just have to not be an asshat and make stupid mistakes.

Catching Up- The Eugene Marathon

Back in January, The KoB told me that he'd decided that he was going to run the Eugene Marathon for his goal spring race. PERFECT! I said. I'd already done that race, so I could focus on PRing the Half and extra bonuses: My best friend lives in Oregon and Oregon is Beautiful (see this post).

The week before the Birmingham Marathon, I went to Eugene's website to sign up for the half and I couldn't pull the trigger. I decided to wait till after the race. And... as you can probably put two and two together... Yeah, after the Pukefest Birmingham Race, I signed up to run the full in Eugene.

I kept this as covert as possible, only because I thought that part of the reason Birmingham turned out the way it did, was because I was so fucking nervous. And I thought by not telling people about Eugene, that I could run without pressure and see what happens.

I'm telling you what, folks, it was HARD. Coming up short in your goal race and then rolling that into training for ANOTHER goal race 9 weeks away was mentally the hardest training I've ever done. The miles and workouts came pretty easily, but damn... getting out the door most days was REALLY hard. I am so thankful that I had The KoB, Steve, My Bitches, and Nashville Striders Training Runs to keep me honest.

My personal expectations for Eugene were to run what I had hoped to run in Birmingham, and even though my training was suggesting that I was capable of running faster, I had my eye on the 3:42-3:45 range. I wanted to make up for Birmingham and finally put that bad taste out of my mouth and be able to move on.

Guess what? IT DIDN'T HAPPEN. Yeah, I ran the race and while I never really felt good, the goal felt totally attainable until around mile 18.5 and I started getting those familiar tingles in my stomach. After mile 20, I had to jump off the bike path and squat behind a tree. After that, it was all downhill. I started getting side stitches, I puked and dry heaved, I made a porta john stop, I felt sorry for myself, and then I essentially quit. I walked/ran a couple of the last miles, all the while beating myself up for not being able to push through like I did in Birmingham. It was a pretty epic FAIL on my part. To put it into perspective for you:

Through Mile 20: 2:49:31 (8:29 pace)
My finish time: 4:07:04 (9:26 pace)

That's right folks, it took me an hour and 17 minutes to go the last 6.2.

Eugene: 2
Amy: 0

I crossed the finish line and immediately saw The KoB who was waiting just past the finish chute. We spent about 3 minutes asking each other... "How'd YOU do?" and trying to sneak looks at each other's watches. Finally, I was like... "Dude, I just finished. So, not too well." and then I found out that he had PRed!!! He ran a 2:47:48!!!!!!!!!! Like. Whoa. 

We left the race and headed back to my friends place in Portland. And I have to say... as soon as I crossed the finish line and found out The KoB's time, I kinda shrugged off my bad race. I was a little bummed, naturally. But, I wasn't really all that pissed or frustrated. Sure, I was in the best shape I've ever been in for this race and sure, my asshole stomach robbed me of another PR... but, you know what? Hopefully, I'll be in even better shape next time and each marathon, it's taking longer and longer for my stomach to mess up, so maybe next time I'll make it the whole 26.2.

You can only do what you can do at any given time. And one day... my time will come.

The whole weekend was fantastic. It was great to get to spend time with my friend Stephanie, I hadn't laughed that hard in a LONG time.

 This pretty much sums up the whole weekend.

And damn... the Eugene Marathon may be a total bitch to me... but, The KoB left with a shiny, new PR.

And this pretty much sums up our relationship:

Me trying to convince him to do something (smile)

and him thinking that I'm a crazy, bossy bitch (I am).

And now... I rest. FOR REALZ this time, people.

Race Report: Run for Rotary 5K

WTF is wrong with me? I've been itching to run a 5K for awhile now. WHY???? Because 5Ks are so glamorous and they are so freaking hard for me. The thing is this... I've never trained for a 5K. So, all my attempts are me just hoping and praying and doing voodoo dances the night before that "race day magic" will strike and I'll end up PRing. Sadly, my friends, that happens like once every 2 years. One of these days (I keep saying this), I'm going to put some time into SERIOUSLY training for a 5K, but that day is not today.

So, without further adieu, the race report that I am the most experienced in writing:

The time where I thought I was going PR, just because I'm awesome, but then I discovered about a mile in, that 5Ks don't care how awesome you are, they just want to steal your soul and stomp all over your confidence.

Yay!

Friday before the race, I was amped up! I had committed myself (mentally) to the pain and suffering and was ready to go to battle. Bring on the pain, bitches! Strangely enough, the pain wasn't really the issue. I mean, don't get me wrong, that SOB 5K hurt like hell. BUT, some other factors were at play, as well.

Things I learned from not PRing:

1. The timing of the warm-up is KEY. Particularly when it's cold and damp outside. I thought I was timing my warm up perfectly, I finished with about 5 minutes before race start (and I should note that that was 5 minutes LATER than the dude yelling into the microphone was suggesting. Uhhh.. there's like 200 people here dude, we don't need to be at the start line 10 minutes before the race starts). It was our first really cold, really damp morning of the fall and I was freezing my ass off in those 5 minutes.

And then... 5 minutes turned into about 15. Because, they started the 10K first and then kept saying... we'll start the 5K 2 minutes after the 10K (seemed reasonable to me). EXCEPT 10 MINUTES LATER... we get lined up.

I get it. It's a charity race. No bigs. But, holy crap, it was cold outside. And my legs became frozen blocks of ice in that 15-20 minutes of standing around waiting for the start. And for a 5K, I kinda like my legs to be warm. Ya know?

I did jog around a bit on the track before the 10K started. But, those last 10 minutes, I was standing around waiting to get started.

Throwing jealous death daggers with my eyes to that

little girl with tights AND a hoodie on. Bitch.

Lesson Learned: ASK the RD what the precise start time of your race is going to be. And then don't believe him and jog around for an extra 5 minutes.

2. Uhhh... Here's a little nugget of knowledge: To run fast, you should probably practice running fast. Like, I dunno, maybe have some intervals in your training or something.

Lesson Learned: You're probably not going to PR, if the fastest you've been running in your workouts is 8:30 pace. Dumbass.

3. Dress for success. So, here's an embarrassingly little factoid... My 5K PRs have always come when I'm wearing compression tights. This thought didn't occur to me, until about 30 seconds into this race when I was wrangling with my shorts waistband, trying to keep those fuckers up. 

The thing is... when I run fast (say anything under a 7:45), things... body parts... jostle around a bit too much. I'm not talking about my boobs. I got those suckers locked and loaded in my sports bra. I'm talking about my gut. It's uncomfortable, it's inconvenient (cause it jostles my shorts off) and it just fucking sucks.

Lesson Learned: Wear compression tights to suck in all those jiggly parts. (Also, related: will have to be a winter race, because I cannot handle compression tights when it's over 38 degrees).

 This was about 400 meters into the race. This was before

my dream unicorn of a PR gored me with it's horn.

4. Time your splits. So, this is a change for me. In the recent past, I've been firmly in the... "I don't need to know what my splits are as I'm running" camp. My idea was that if I looked down and saw a 7:19 for the first mile, I'd flip out and slow down. That was old Amy. New Amy WANTS to see a 7:19 for the first mile and then a 7:19 for the next mile and the next mile, etc. I'm no longer scared of running too fast. Now, I'm scared of running too slow. (Thank god, because uhhhh that's the point of a race, I think). Welcome to racing, Amy. Took you long enough to figure this shit out.

Lesson Learned: Time your splits. And then speed up! 

 With about 600-400 meters left to go. 

God, I hate 5Ks.

5. Constantly tugging at your shirt, because it's too short is annoying as hell.

Lesson Learned: It's time to retire the orange Scenic City shirt. Especially after your belly makes a sneak appearance in every race photo.

The words of my eloquent coach after seeing my results.

Thank god my next race is a half marathon... Uhh.... this weekend.

Week 4 review.

We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.
                                                                                         Maya Angelou

I realized this morning that I love and hate Monday's all at once. Work-wise, I HATE Mondays. I work all week to whittle my to-do list down and then I get here on Monday morning and have to write up a new list and fill it with a whole new week's worth of stuff. DEPRESSING.

But training wise. I love Mondays. I can look back over my last weeks worth of training and be happy/proud with the final outcome. Sure, you can bet that a lot of those runs sucked ass. But, I got them done and logged. And with starting a new week of training, there is excitement there. Is this week going to be a good week? Am I going to feel awesome? Is this the week that I start to get some confidence in my running? SO MANY EXCITING VARIABLES!

So, since this isn't supposed to be a post about the upcoming week, but the past week, I need to STFU and get this recap really going.

Overall, last week was GREAT. Most of my runs felt really good. I think I've finally gotten myself into the training mode and things just clicked really well.

One issue, I've been having some problems getting my ass out of bed in the morning (which means I get to work a bit later than I'd like), but I think I've pinpointed the problem (it came to me while I laid in bed, bailing on my morning recovery run)... I've been kinda lax about taking my vitamins lately. WHY IS IT SO HARD FOR ME TO REMEMBER TO CONSISTENTLY TAKE VITAMINS? Jeebus. So, I'm going to be a little more diligent this week with my B-complex, B-12, and Iron pills. I think that will help.

The meat of week 4:
The fast(ish)- 7 miles total 4 miles at 8:45ish.
The long(ish)- 13-14 miles.
The total- 50ish.
The wildcard: a 5K where my expectations were (of course) set wayyyyy too fucking high.

For this week's "tempo" run, I dragged the KoB over to the track with me and we ran my 4 miles there. I thought it was going to be tedious and mind-numbingly boring. But, it was actually fantastic. I felt really good. The pace was a little aggressive, but it felt manageable. It was awesome. I think we ended up averaging around 8:40 for those miles. SUCCESS.

For my long run, I met up with my friend Liz on Sunday to run 13-14 miles. She was running 22, so I didn't feel bad about keeping her on the slower side with my pace. Except... we actually didn't run all that slow. I ended up with 14.5 at an honest pace and am thankful for running friends like Liz who push me out of my comfort zone a little, pace-wise. Plus, I can think of no better way to catch up with friends than running a couple of hours with them.

The wildcard.... ugh, for some GODFORSAKEN reason I've been itching to "race." I've been trying to find a 5k to run and decided that this weekend was it. I spent all of Friday psyching myself up for a PR attempt the next day.

Spoiler alert: It didn't happen.

More on that debacle later this week. 

Overall, even a shitty race attempt and a rough long run can't ruin the week. Week 4 was a good week.

Update

My running is still pretty shitty.

I tried faking it last weekend. I ran long on Saturday. I picked my favorite route thinking that I could somehow get the magic back by running on crooked country roads with nostalgic landmarks from my childhood. I stopped at one particular point on the road to take in the beauty of the sun-sparkled dew on the unkempt fields. I kept telling myself over and over again, that I love this! I love running! And then, I realized... Shit! I have to run 5 miles to get back to my car. I hate running! Fuck running!

I've been getting some gentle nudging that maybe it's time for a little break. Initially, I was all... break? Fuck that. I don't need no stinking break. I will not give into this funk. I will continue on and make running my bitch. But, upon reflection, maybe it is time to scale things back a bit. I keep telling myself that it's just mental, but I'd have to be a real tool to realize that it's not physical, too.

I've realized that I'm happiest when I'm knee deep in training. Which, is completely shocking. I've never been good with doing what people tell me to do or doing things that are expected of me. But, for whatever reason, having a shiny new plan every week and knowing that someone is checking my log to make sure I'm doing those runs is so much fun!

So the idea of scaling things back a bit and just running a little for the helluva it (aka my running for the 5 years prior to Half Marathon PR training) sounds just AWFUL. It sounds boring and lame and not worth getting up in the morning for. Blah.

I spent about 20 minutes yesterday mapping out a race schedule for myself for the rest of the year. And you know what... it's totally got room for a little break from running for the next couple of weeks. Ugh. I am begrudgingly scaling back. A little! Just for a couple of weeks! Arg!

*In non pity party pathetic news, I went to my first ever track meet on Saturday. Ummm... So much fun!!!!!!! Holy crap I had no idea that watching people I don't even know running around in circles could be so much fun and make you feel inspired and jealous at the same time! I also had no idea that I could be as nervous as I was watching KoB set a PR in the 5000m! So exciting!!!!

Funktown Population: 1

I'm over it. I swear to God, I am. Emotionally and physically... I'm over it. Right? I mean, I'm back to my happy, optimistic self. I don't get teary-eyed or even angry anymore when I think about that day. Honestly, I don't even really think about it. But, as much as it feels like I've moved on... my runs have been total shit lately.

The week after the race, my runs were all great. I was fueled by emotions... some days it was anger or frustration that fueled my run, other days it was sadness and disappointment. But whatever it was... I felt something and it felt good to burn through it on a run.

Enter last week. Last week was the week that reminded me why I stopped "training" for marathons and races in the first place. Because it really, really sucks to not meet your goal (or to not even fucking finish). And now I'm left with feeling nothing about my running. Any confidence that I had from weeks of training, from kick ass speed work, from killing my half marathon PR... has all kinda gone to shit. I'm back to thinking that the marathon isn't my distance and that I just can't race it. That DNF totally dicked me over. Thanks for crushing my dreams and my soul in one fell swoop, bowels!

I realize in the grand scheme of things, this isn't a big deal. It will pass. I'll have some spectacularly awesome run soon (PLEASE, GOD, LET IT BE SOON!) and my runs will start feeling better again. But, my head... that's going to take some serious un-fucking-up in the next few months.

Race Report: The Flying Pig Marathon

This is the post that I never wanted to write. And I certainly never dreamed I'd be writing it about THIS race. THIS race that I was in the best running shape of my life.

I'm not really ready/interested/willing to talk in great lengths about the race on here. Even if I was... there isn't a lot to say. I'm disappointed, pissed off, embarrassed, sad, and frankly, over it.

I'm not the type to wallow around in my failures, so, the idea of going into some melodramatic, detailed, woe-is-me race report kinda makes me want to vomit. But, I like you guys (most of you, anyway), and even though I'm kinda done talking about it, I feel like I owe you guys some sort of explanation. (And also, this way, instead of having 5 different conversations with some of you individually about this whole piece of shit race, I can just say it once and be done with it).

Sunday morning was perfect. I couldn't have asked for a better start to a race. The weather was brilliant, I wasn't nervous, I was in my proper corral about 30 minutes before the start of the race, I was hydrated, fueled, and mentally prepared to push and hurt and run the race of my life.

And despite the perfect conditions, by mile 17, I was done. And the hardest thing, the most gut-wrenching part of the whole miserable experience is that I can't place the blame on one thing. I can't say, Amy, by doing this, you royally fucked this race up. SO DON'T EVER FUCKING DO THAT AGAIN!

I didn't go out too fast and blow up. I didn't suffer some kind of awful injury on the course (thank god). The hills didn't off me (although, they sure as hell tried). I didn't get too hot. The race wasn't too crowded. I wasn't undertrained or overtrained.

And yet, I didn't finish.

What pulled me from the race isn't some kind of glorious, epic excuse... Nope, I'm not awesome enough for that. I had to quit the race because I was literally running my guts out. From one porta potty to the next. There is no way to sugarcoat this, so I'm not even going to try; starting around mile 7, I got an awful case of the shits. At first, I thought I'd just have to make a couple of stops and it'd be no big deal. Unfortunately, it got to the point where about a tenth of a mile after my last stop, I was looking for the next porta potty.

I don't think it was my dinner the night before, or my fueling the morning of. I wasn't dehydrated or experiencing heat exhaustion, I didn't have some kind of random stomach flu or bug. I just couldn't run without having to stop every 3-5 minutes to take a crap. I don't know what the hell my problem was, but my stomach was not interested in me running a marathon that day.

And so instead of finishing my 16th marathon. I DNFed for the first time.

Onward and upward. Or whatever.

Straight Crazy.

Yesterday morning I completely flipped out.

I had my last real interval workout (10x800s) yesterday morning and all the confidence that I had gained from last week, had left me. It's easy when you're in full-on training mode. The race is off in the distant future, you can feel good about your goal, cause you're actively working towards it. Until you aren't anymore. Until you've done the work and now it's time to test yourself. This shit's getting real now, folks.

I knew that yesterday's workout wasn't that big of a deal. My body is tired and whether I made my splits or not was not going to have an impact on my race next weekend. I knew that, logically. But emotionally, I couldn't help but think about... if you can do 10 of these, you're ready. I showed up for the workout with knots in my stomach and doubts filling my head.

The first 5, my head was just not in the game. My legs felt fine, but I just couldn't relax or shut my brain off. Finally, around the 5th or 6th interval I had a little talk with myself...I was just like, DUDE, chillax. You've been doing these for weeks. It is not that big of a deal. Stop being such a baby and just run. And then of course, by the time I had my head under control, my legs decided to revolt. But, whatever, I can handle tired legs... I can't handle a jacked up head.

When we finished the workout and ran our cool down I felt this huge wave of disappointment. I felt defeated, even though I pretty much nailed the workout (despite all my craziness). WTF? As the morning went on, I couldn't shake it. I was feeling all blue and sulky.

So, I fired off an email to my coach with the subject heading "Therapy Sesh." Now, up until this point, she's only been getting texts and emails from me saying things like... "Killed my race pace run today! Feeling pretty awesome these days."* But yesterday, there was only bitching and moaning and not even cool, funny bitching and moaning, but sad, sappy, pathetic bitching and moaning.

To which she promptly responded with...

Heh heh heh. Taper weeks are the best. THE BEST.

...(Lots of good coach-y and friend-y stuff in here)...

Anyway, don't freak yourself out. Trust your training.

So, that made me feel better and I snuck out for a yoga class at lunch which cleared my head even more and by yesterday afternoon, I was officially over myself. It's just RUNNING for pete's sake! How melodramatic and ridiculous can I possibly be? (Sadly, I already know the answer to that).

Having some perspective now, I think I know what part of the problem is/was. I've never really and truly raced a marathon before. Sure, I've lined up at a marathon with a goal in mind and one that I had trained for, but never like this. I've usually just been delusional with my goals and so when I don't meet them, it was like... Awwww shucks! Shoulda trained harder. Next time!

But this time is different. This time I really, truly can meet my goal. It is possible. And it's not going to be a cakewalk, it's going to be work. Real work. But, it's attainable. I've trained hard and I can do it. And that's what scares me the most...


* No joke, you guys. that is word-for-sickening-word a text that I sent to her. How gross is that?

Race Report: Purity Dash 10k

The Good:

-- I PRed! 49:33.
-- My first two miles were 7:19 and 7:27. Soo... BOOM, bitches!

The Bad:

-- My first two miles were 7:19 and 7:27.
-- I thought I was going to DIE the rest of the race. No joke. My splits:
Mile 1: 7:19
Mile 2: 7:27
Mile 3: 8:01
Mile 4: 8:17
Mile 5: 8:20
Mile 6: 8:10

The Ugly:

Not surprising, when you feel like shit... you LOOK like shit. Awesome.

This might go down as one of the worst executions of a race I've ever had. I'm not saying I could have had a faster time at the race (because, who knows???), but I could have been a little smarter and not felt like I was going to DIE.

How did I manage to have such an epic crash and burn race? Uhhh... I thought it would be a good idea to run only on feel. My garmin just displayed the distance, so I had no freaking clue what pace I was running. Terrible idea. TERRIBLE.

Oh well, at least I enjoyed an ice cream sandwich and a Jungle Juice after the race. OH WAIT, NO I DIDNT, because they were out of both. Hmph.

The Problem...

So, I've just realized that there's a problem with setting a new goal before your race calendar is clear...

You see, for the past few weeks, I've been going over my training log with a critical eye. And that's good. It's making me realize how much work I'm going to have to do in the upcoming months to achieve my goals... But, ummm.. it's also bad. Because I have to run a marathon on Sunday. And, it's not exactly a cake walk of a course. And if I now know that I was undertrained for the Chicago Marathon... well then.. I'm DEFINITELY undertrained for the Monkey (particularly since I haven't really been running much since Chicago).

Chicago Marathon

The Monkey

So, let's just say that my confidence is completely shot to hell at this point. Back when I originally signed up for this race, I wanted to have a Course PR. Last year I ran a 4:39 (which I was thrilled with) and this year, I'd love to run about the same time... but, I also feel like realistically... it's just not there for me right now.

And... that's okay, right? Because I've got big things coming up and I'm very excited about pushing my body and seeing where it can take me in the upcoming months. So, Sunday is just going to become a fun run in the park.

Hopefully I won't die.

How to...

Figure out if you're an awful running partner:

Review your text messages for the week...

Doh! I suck.

Bah Hambug.

Well, just as I should have expected.. setting myself a crazy/dumb ass goal has not made me excited to go out and run more... in fact... it has made me want to run less.
You'd think, being a 31 year old fairly self-aware individual I'd have known better...

Digressing...

UGH. What can I do to get excited about running long distances again???? TELL ME PEOPLE, I NEED HELP.

** This message brought to you by... Amy's OCD tendencies and her thighs... who both need running more than you can imagine...

Race Report: Indianapolis Mini Marathon

It could have been a number of things...

1. I just got back from a 10 day vacation in Scotland and Ireland exactly a week prior.
2. I have been trying to shed the vacation weight that I gained, so all last week, I ate very STRICT and very light.
3. In addition to the beer and shortbread weight from vacation, I'm holding onto a couple of extra pounds from winter/tax season.
4. The vegetarian choices for dinner the night before that was so graciously put together and offered for free.. were pretty slim, forcing me to buy a bag of chex mix at 10pm on Friday night to get in some calories and carbs before the race.
5. The weather was overcast, but humid.
6. My hamstrings were killing me Friday and Saturday after getting back into my Ashtanga Yoga Practice on Thursday night after a 10 day vacation.

But ultimately, the only reason that Saturday sucked ass, is because I'm an idiot.

But, allow me to back up...

So, everything about this race was awesome. Carolyn is one of my favorite friends and running partners, so the 4 hour drive on Friday flew by as we chatted. Everything went off without a hitch. We got checked into the hotel, picked up our packets at the expo, did some shopping in downtown Indy, had a quick, late lunch, and even had time to attempt a half hour nap, before it was time to head out for dinner.

Without going too much into it, Carolyn has been running the Indy Mini Marathon for years as apart of a team, and she invited me to run with the team this year. Which basically meant... meeting cool, wayyy smart people, getting a free tech tee as our team shirt and free food and booze. I mean... who could say no?

So we met up with the team for dinner and it was lovely. Everyone was extremely nice to me, even though I was a complete outsider and obvious freeloader.

When we got back to the hotel after dinner, we stopped in the hotel gift shop and picked up some snacks. We were still hungry from dinner. We finally got tucked into bed around 11, I'd guess and had our alarms set for 5:45.

I slept really well and woke up excited and ready to go!

Admittedly, I was a little nervous about this race. I'm not the biggest fan of running in groups. You see... people annoy me. The heavy breathers, the loud gossipers, the first time excited newbies, people running 4+ wide, etc. It's just not my favorite and this race is billed as the biggest half marathon in the country. Yes, the BIGGEST half marathon. (I know, I didn't believe it either). 35,000 people. Running for 13.1 miles. Not my ideal.

We got into our corral (wayyyy back in L). And I was pleasantly surprised that there was actually quite a bit of room. One of the things that they got right at this race, was the number of corrals to runners. We were nice and spread out. The corrals went all the way to Z!!!

That was the good news... the bad news is that I was totally comfortable temperature-wise at the start. Like... not cold at all. Ugh. Hellloooo summer racing!

The race started and as usual in the first few miles.. I felt okay... not great, but okay. And with every mile that clicked by I said to myself... oh, I'll feel better by the next mile.

Except... I never did. In fact, I started feeling worse after every mile. It's hard to explain, it wasn't specifically my legs, it wasn't specifically my head... it was just a shitty, shitty run. Which is a shame, because the race was awesome!!! There were plenty of fluid stops (which I used every single one!), we got to run on the Indy 500 track, and it was super flat and generally a good weather day for a May race. It was a bit warm for my tastes, but mostly overcast and it did start sprinkling rain by the end of the race.

Carolyn was feeling awesome and it was very obvious that I was holding her back... I finally convinced her to go on without me at mile 10. I just knew I couldn't push anything at the end.

The last mile sucked. I kept telling myself to run faster to get it over with... except I couldn't. It was a strange feeling for me in a half marathon.

By the time I finished and got my medal and tried to make my way into the park where the after race was, I was so nauseous and the huge group of people trying to get into the park was making me sicker. It was like all the people were making me feel seasick.

Finally, I got to the meet up place where our team was, and Carolyn was standing there looking like she'd just ran 2 or 3 miles or something. She did great! She felt great and she ran great and I felt like such a freaking loser that I held her back and couldn't finish the race with her. I was proud and happy for her though.

After standing around for a little while, it started raining harder and we headed out. And just when I thought that running a shitty race for 2:13 was bad... I realized the rough day wasn't over quite yet. In fact, I felt worse AFTER the race, than I felt during the race. Every step made me feel like I was going to throw up. I felt so awful. We had to walk back very slowly, including a pit stop along the way.

It was terrible, I haven't felt that awful in a long time... dizzy, cold, nauseous... nothing helped. I squatted down in the shower several times thinking that I was going to hurl. This feeling lasted for about 90 minutes after the race. Finally, I ate some popcorn and started to feel a little better and by the time we got to our team lunch.. I was feeling mostly like myself.

It was a horrible, shitty, terrible race and after-race for me. Easily the worst I've ever felt in a half marathon and possibly in any race (and after any race).

But, despite that... it was really fun and I recommend the race to everyone! They do a great job with it! And it was great to see my running partner do so well, even though we hadn't really trained much for it. And the best thing that came from the race is the fact that I am SO ready to train now. I mean... I don't give a shit about my time.. 2:13? Fine. What bothers me is that I had such an awful race. That I was so poorly prepared and under trained (the excuses that I'm sticking with). And I NEVER want to feel that way again. Not for 13 miles, not for 3 miles and certainly not for 26.2 miles.

So, the silver lining is that I think this is finally the motivation I need to get my ass in gear! And I'm honestly excited about that...

I'll post the pictures once I see some.. for now.. here's a pic of the long sleeve tech tee that we got:

A Confession

Over the course of the last couple of months... I think I've realized something about myself. And it's not something I'm particularly happy about, but I'm going to be honest and share it with all 4 of you readers who have been putting up with my lame once a week postings lately.

I love everything about trail running. I love being out in the middle of nature, away from cars, people, and pavement. I love the solitude and the singleness of the track, I love the fact that trail running is kind of like "anything goes" running. It's a community where no one gives a shit that I'm wearing a cotton tshirt to run in or that I'm carrying an extra 20 pounds on me. And no trail runners are standing around talking about what model Garmin they just bought. I love the rawness of it. It just feels so primitive and yet childlike at the same time... to be running through the woods amongst the wild animals. It's just a perfect community and running style for me. It's not about speed, pace, gadgets, or PRs, but about nature and yourself. It just really seems so bad-ass and hardcore... which is what I strive to be everyday of my life. (Not to mention the dudes are WAY hot).

I love it all. It's great.

Except... in actuality, I think I might kinda sorta hate it.

I know, I know. It's like Trail Running is the THING that I should be completely and utterly in love with. My dream existence in life is to travel around... camping, hiking and trail running. And the camping and hiking part I'm 100% on board with... but I just can't get amped about the running part. I love running, I love trails... why don't I love them together?

I'm a little heartbroken. It's like I want to be absolutely in love with trail running. But, to be 100% honest... I really don't like it. I don't like the interruptions of having to hike up a steep incline, I don't like fact that the trails are NEVER empty, so you've got to dodge people, dogs, etc which isn't easy to do on a single track. I don't like breaking a zillion spiderwebs with my face in the early mornings. I don't like the fact that I have to get in my car and DRIVE to a trailhead. I don't like how in the summer, you get shade from the trees, but you don't get any freaking breeze whatsoever.

But most of all, I hate how hard it is. I mean, seriously... it kicks my ass. The steep inclines, the steep downhills, the concentration required... it's effing exhausting!

It's one of those things for me, that on paper is so wonderful... but when I actually do it, it's not like I want it to be. I'm not all zen and loving life... I'm tired, grouchy, and dreaming of the sidewalk where I could have ran twice as far in the same amount of time. And... I SUCK at it. I fall a lot, I'm slow. I'm just not mentally tough enough to be a good trail runner. As much as I want to be hardcore and bad ass... at the core.. I'm just a pansy.

I'm not giving up though. I'm going to stick with the trail running (mainly because there are too many awesome ultras that I want to do that are on trails). I figure, with as much as I love hiking trails and being outdoors, that EVENTUALLY I'll come around. I think part of the issue is that I've ran Percy Warner Parks trails so much that I have them memorized and am kinda bored now. This late summer and fall I plan on getting out more to hike, camp, and run... so maybe a change of scenery will do me some good.

All I know is that I better start loving those trails. I'm officially signed up for this little gem of a race in October:

Stumpjump 50k. (at some point, I gotta learn how to read one of these crazy elevation charts. Or... maybe not).

Breaking it down.

Do you feel like once a week, I'm posting about how I'm in a funk... either alcohol-induced, flu or sinus-induced, slow and/or lazy induced funk? And then every Monday I declare that it's a new start?

Yeah, it doesn't just feel like that.. it's become the general theme of my posts lately.

Granted, I have been busy. But, honestly... I'm usually busy, that's not really a valid excuse. I've been doing this running thing long enough to know that something's off. And I just keep thinking that it's a short-lived, just this week funk. But, then it comes back the next week.. and I make up some other kind of excuse for it.

What is the deal?

If I'm being completely honest... I've been in this funk since I became a maniac. Did I overtrain last summer and burn out? I LOVED last summer though. I LOVED that I was in the routine, that I was dedicated enough to run 60+ miles a week. And it seems like I'm always trying to get myself back to that.

I thought signing up for a 50k would kick my ass in gear... but, it didn't really. I just ran a couple of marathons as training runs and then kinda pussyfooted around the rest of the time.

I need a new spark.

Maybe I'm not running enough races. Maybe I need to sign up for something big. Suggestions?

Race Report: Team Nashville 10-Miler

AKA.. the race that humbled my cocky ass.

So, yeah... Friday I was feeling all high on my horse... that the reason I was running slow, wasn't because I am slow. No way... it's because I'm lazy. Which meant, in my mind... that all I had to do was flip the lazy switch off and I'd be back to PRing in races occasionally. And I assumed one of these such occasions would be at Saturday's Team Nashville 10-miler.

Folks, I was wrong. On both accounts.

It was a cool morning, so I decided to do a little easy warm-up to get my legs ready to go. I was able to get in 1.5 miles and then headed to the start line where I hooked up with Melanie and a friend of hers. I started off fast. In my head I was all... yeah, I can do this. I can run a fast race. And for the first 2 miles I felt okay. I kept telling myself... "of course you don't feel awesome. you're in a race. you're not supposed to feel awesome." But by about mile 3 I could feel that I was going to crash and burn and it officially happened somewhere around mile 4. I urged Melanie to go on without me, and she very nicely asked if I was going to be okay, etc... but I assured I was and told her to go on and get some points (grand prix points). She took off and I tried to keep picking up the pace every so often. But, it just wasn't there.

Around mile 6, as I was getting passed by men and women in their 60s and 70s, I thought about the last few races I've ran...
The Bourbon Chase
The Shelby Bottoms 15k
The Christie Cookie 5k

And there was a common theme throughout all of them... my running in them SUCKED. I've had dead legs, low energy, and ended up with disappointing times in them. So... my next thought was... why am I sucking at races this fall? I trained hard all summer with high mileage in hot temps... I assumed that that would only help me during fall racing season. Yet, it seems there's something else going on.

Something isn't right with my running, right now.

During the race, it dawned on me... I haven't ran well since I got back from Montana. And there are a couple of things since then that could be making some difference... (more on those things tomorrow).

I ended up finishing the race with a decent-ish time of around 1:33:18. Which is only 2 minutes slower than my last year's race time (although, last year I went into the race WANTING to run it easy). I also ended up being sore the next day (and still today!). Particularly the upper portion of my left quadracep. Booo.

At the finish line...

I didn't win any awards (obvs)... although Melanie picked up 2nd in our age group!!!!! But, I did manage to unknowingly get photographed a million times at the awards ceremony...

Sorry to all you winners out there... Sorry I jacked up your pictures with my squinty-eyed scowl.

 Although... luckily I didn't jack up Melanie's picture...

A sort of PSA

A friend of mine made a big mistake recently. We hadn't talked in a couple of months and after asking me how things were going (things are good), how work was going (work is busy, but good) he then asked me the one question that he would soon wish he hadn't: how my running is going.

Twenty some odd minutes later when I finally took a breath, I realized... oh god. I've turned into that person. You know who I'm talking about... I'm like your 74 year old aunt that corners you at thanksgiving going on about her last colonoscopy. I'm like that friend from high school that you weren't really friends with, but when you see her out somewhere pregnant with like her 8th kid and you ask her how she is, she takes that as the green light to go into great detail and uses words that should never be used during small talk (you know, phrases that end with "sac" and "fluid"). Yeah. That's me. About running. I'm the girl that tells you way more than the "it's good" response that you're looking for.

I'm sure the thoughts that went through his head were identical to mine... who.the.f*ck.are.you? And what have you done with Amy?

Sure, I've been running a lot lately and have realized that the more I run, the happier I am, etc. But, daaaaaaaaamn. I didn't realize I'd not just drunk the kool-aid, but that I've bathed in it, as well. Who the hell am I? I hadn't really stopped to think about how incredibly unbelievable it is that I'm as obsessed with running as I am**. This whole thing has kind of snuck up on me. One minute, I'm training for the Country Music Half Marathon to get into better shape and then BAM, a few years later I'm training for my 6th marathon and running 60 miles a week. Daaaaaaaamn. Seriously. Who am I? If you'd asked me 10 years ago, who I'd be at 29, I probably would have told you that I'd be the girl with the 8th baby on the way.

Just goes to show you... you gotta be careful with this running thing... before you know it, it will become your life and you'll become that girl that people avoid like the plague at social gatherings.

**Never mind the fact that a psychologist would probably say that my obsession with running is a classic case of displacement or possibly some form of transference. Good thing I only got a C in psych 101 and don't understand any of that jazz.