Before you say anything, I need to get this out. The past few months have been great. We've gotten to spend a lot of time together, i looked forward to our daily jaunts, and my daughter too, she loves you, but I would be lying to us both if I continued to pretend that we were meant to be together long term. You see, I've got plans, goals, dreams, and while you have supported those as best you could.... well..... in all honesty you're holding me back. Seriously, you're kind of high maintenance. Constantly pulling me one direction or another, your weight alone is a major issue, and don't even get me started about the way you start convulsions you throw the minute I try to speed up. I'm just looking for.... more. Hey now, cheer up. There's someone out there that's right for you, someone who needs just what you have to offer (and hopefully nothing more, cough) and I'm not just going to forget about you, you're welcome to stick around till you find someone else, maybe a Craigslist want ad?- we can be friends. we're just going in two different directions.
Ok, fine. There IS someone else. Younger, better looking, and smooth. (insert dreamy smile). The relationship just works easier, it flows better. I feel more free to really discover what I'm made of.
Well.... I've known for awhile now. We were on a break, long distance relationships don't really work well with me. That's when I found you, you caught me at a very vulnerable time. I'm going up north in a few weeks to be reunited, then we're both coming back here. You can understand, can't you???
---- The life and early retirement of my "stand in" jogging stroller----
longest run to date - 3/29
I scheduled my long run for yesterday, 10 miles. I took Saturday off to prepare myself for it, planned my route (a rails to trails by the beach), talked it up to friends for accountability. but made a common amateur mistake- thinking i can stay out late friday and saturday night and then run at dawn sunday morning. Didn't - happen. Then, of course, there was no way to fit it in during the day - laundry, cleaning up, playing with the kids and running errands- i got home sunday night in time to wolf down dinner (steak and potatoes- not what i had planned) send the kids off to bed, throw a gatorade into the fridge to get cold, and at 8pm- head out.
I'm still stuck on the fact that I put a drink in the fridge right before I ran out the door- and was gone long enough for it to get cold. Anyways, naturally the sun had set, the weather was PERFECT (60 with a great breeze), and the dark was actually a bonus, maybe cuz I didn't have as many distractions. I spent the first mile coaching myself to take it easy and not worry about pace, miles 2 and 3 were ins and outs of the main roads, shopping centers, etc. Then miles 4 & 5 took me down a back road- holy cow! - I had run this road MANY times and its beautiful, but never at night- it didn't even cross my mind that there were NO streetlights or ANY lights at all! Pitch black! It was all I could do to stay on the road, thankfully was a straightway, but my mind was not the best running buddy, I was imagining gators (the road is alongside a marsh), snakes (i've seen snakes during the day, small ones), and wait - what about jaguars??? I was leaping over shadows like a crazy woman. I kept glances down at my legs praying for some approaching headlights to reflect off of them.
My plan was to run that loop twice, but after that I decided no way, and wound through a neighboring subdivision, under the abundant streetlight and along the sidewalk. I kept a comfortable pace and ended my run feeling much better (physically) than my 8 1/2 mile long run last week, although my pace this week was slightly slower. In spite of the drama of the first half of the run - it was a great time. Sunday runs tend to set the mood for the rest of the week and if they wind up hurting too much or just being bad, I tend to get cranky.
I'm not a fan of gatorade, but I was thankful it was cold!
I'm still stuck on the fact that I put a drink in the fridge right before I ran out the door- and was gone long enough for it to get cold. Anyways, naturally the sun had set, the weather was PERFECT (60 with a great breeze), and the dark was actually a bonus, maybe cuz I didn't have as many distractions. I spent the first mile coaching myself to take it easy and not worry about pace, miles 2 and 3 were ins and outs of the main roads, shopping centers, etc. Then miles 4 & 5 took me down a back road- holy cow! - I had run this road MANY times and its beautiful, but never at night- it didn't even cross my mind that there were NO streetlights or ANY lights at all! Pitch black! It was all I could do to stay on the road, thankfully was a straightway, but my mind was not the best running buddy, I was imagining gators (the road is alongside a marsh), snakes (i've seen snakes during the day, small ones), and wait - what about jaguars??? I was leaping over shadows like a crazy woman. I kept glances down at my legs praying for some approaching headlights to reflect off of them.
My plan was to run that loop twice, but after that I decided no way, and wound through a neighboring subdivision, under the abundant streetlight and along the sidewalk. I kept a comfortable pace and ended my run feeling much better (physically) than my 8 1/2 mile long run last week, although my pace this week was slightly slower. In spite of the drama of the first half of the run - it was a great time. Sunday runs tend to set the mood for the rest of the week and if they wind up hurting too much or just being bad, I tend to get cranky.
I'm not a fan of gatorade, but I was thankful it was cold!
Random Thoughts 3/26
* No matter how far I run that day, I'm never more impressed than I am 5 minutes into it that "Hey, I am actually doing it."
* I'm pretty sure granny smiths and peanut butter is the best pre-run snack ever :)
* I have the greatest four year old who happily jumps into the jogger every day eager to coast around with mama. And is angelic the whole time.
* Sometimes the most difficult thing for a runner to do is to slow down.
* I used to wrestle everyday with getting out the door to run, now I struggle on my scheduled rest days, not feeling like a colossal bum.
* I've logged nearly 200 miles on my Mizuno's so far, they have served me well.
* Awhile back I landed on the Disney Marathon to be my first full, now its time to commit and register and I'm nervous. The race isn't till January, too early for pre-race jitters, huh?
*like a child learning to ride a bike, i'm getting bold- taking off the training wheels ("i wonder if i could get used to running w/o my iPod), cautious attempts to "pop-a-wheelie" (speedwork), pushing boundaries "mom, can i ride to jenny's house" (PR's, new distances). Soon I will be cruisin' the neighborhood like I own it, the hum of baseball cards in my spokes, showing off ( bring on Disney!! )
* I'm pretty sure granny smiths and peanut butter is the best pre-run snack ever :)
* I have the greatest four year old who happily jumps into the jogger every day eager to coast around with mama. And is angelic the whole time.
* Sometimes the most difficult thing for a runner to do is to slow down.
* I used to wrestle everyday with getting out the door to run, now I struggle on my scheduled rest days, not feeling like a colossal bum.
* I've logged nearly 200 miles on my Mizuno's so far, they have served me well.
* Awhile back I landed on the Disney Marathon to be my first full, now its time to commit and register and I'm nervous. The race isn't till January, too early for pre-race jitters, huh?
*like a child learning to ride a bike, i'm getting bold- taking off the training wheels ("i wonder if i could get used to running w/o my iPod), cautious attempts to "pop-a-wheelie" (speedwork), pushing boundaries "mom, can i ride to jenny's house" (PR's, new distances). Soon I will be cruisin' the neighborhood like I own it, the hum of baseball cards in my spokes, showing off ( bring on Disney!! )
I Think I'm Turning A Corner... 3/17
in my running. They call it being "bitten by the bug." I've often wondered, does it sting? Will it swell? Is it like the pestering sand gnats in Savannah that you can barely see with the naked eye but evoke more rageful tendencies than an angry drunk on st. patricks day after his dog died, wife left him, he was laid off at work, and someone spilled his beer? Or is it more like a misquito bite, promptly smacked, itches for a few minutes, but moments later forgotten?
Recently I've come to recognize the subtle crossing over from curious wannabe onlooker to delirious victim. I'm not even quite sure when it happened, or what exactly the culprit was, but I can attest to the undeniable symptoms. Consider this your warning label:
You might be bitten by the running bug if:
you experience feverish hullucinations of competing in every race from boston to berlin before heaven calls you home
you're labeled as "the runner" amongst your social circles (i.e. myspace, facebook, twitter, and in rarer incidences: real life)
you're daily meals are planned out according to the time, distance, and intensity of your runs, you own more "tech gear" than any other clothing, your idea of the perfect date includes hill sprints and a chilled bottle of gatorade
important life milestones such as career goals, your wedding, when to start trying for a baby, etc. are altered to fit around your race schedule.
your friends begin to avoid you for fear of your droning on and on about the article you read in Runner's World or what your most recent splits were. You, however, barely notice, because you've sought solice amongst kindred spirits and have taken to blogging about running whenever you're not out actually doing it
seriously, though, that really has nothing to do with it. sometimes the obsessive compulsions listed above that come with being an "enthusiastic" runner are nothing more than hypochondriatic symptoms that come within the infected community.
for me, when i stopped having to argumentatively convince myself to lace up and head out for a run, and instead have found it to be a natural daily occurance that doesn't require any coersing whatsoever, i realized i had indeed become "one of them."
Recently I've come to recognize the subtle crossing over from curious wannabe onlooker to delirious victim. I'm not even quite sure when it happened, or what exactly the culprit was, but I can attest to the undeniable symptoms. Consider this your warning label:
You might be bitten by the running bug if:
you experience feverish hullucinations of competing in every race from boston to berlin before heaven calls you home
you're labeled as "the runner" amongst your social circles (i.e. myspace, facebook, twitter, and in rarer incidences: real life)
you're daily meals are planned out according to the time, distance, and intensity of your runs, you own more "tech gear" than any other clothing, your idea of the perfect date includes hill sprints and a chilled bottle of gatorade
important life milestones such as career goals, your wedding, when to start trying for a baby, etc. are altered to fit around your race schedule.
your friends begin to avoid you for fear of your droning on and on about the article you read in Runner's World or what your most recent splits were. You, however, barely notice, because you've sought solice amongst kindred spirits and have taken to blogging about running whenever you're not out actually doing it
seriously, though, that really has nothing to do with it. sometimes the obsessive compulsions listed above that come with being an "enthusiastic" runner are nothing more than hypochondriatic symptoms that come within the infected community.
for me, when i stopped having to argumentatively convince myself to lace up and head out for a run, and instead have found it to be a natural daily occurance that doesn't require any coersing whatsoever, i realized i had indeed become "one of them."
"Fear" - new to my running vocab 3/13
So I was a good little runner and kinda sorta followed the non-docs orders and rested for a week-ish. Ok, 5 days, but I think he only said a week, knowing there was no way I'd go full term on that one. He knew I wouldn't last that long. I knew I wouldn't last that long. What I didn't know, was that there'd be a new evil little roadblock I'd have to confront before hitting the pavement once again- fear.
I was taken aback by the sudden assault of self-doubt and an overawareness of the fragile state of my feeble body. (As I type the chilling words of a precious shall-remain-nameless family member echo through my mind "Your not 21 anymore.") Ok, my body is not what you might qualify as "feeble" and my "injury" is not what you would think of when you read the quotation-marked word "injury" but an almost-week on the bench can do all kinds of damage to the psyche. Suddenly I'm spiraling down the dark roads of "what if it'll never be healed" and "what if you do more damage" and "what if you can never run further or faster than your current penguin-pace." I *almost* dreaded going back out of sheer terror that my running career had ended before the smoke had even cleared from the starting gun.
Only one way to conquer your fears, Jes. So I ran.
Slow at first, nearly holding my breath (figuratively speaking, have you ever tried holding your breath while running- doesn't work)in anticipation of the pain, but as one mizuno chased the other, the dark clouds broke and soon there was nothing but southern sunshine beating down on my perspired face. Ahhh, its good to be home.
Fear annulled.
I was taken aback by the sudden assault of self-doubt and an overawareness of the fragile state of my feeble body. (As I type the chilling words of a precious shall-remain-nameless family member echo through my mind "Your not 21 anymore.") Ok, my body is not what you might qualify as "feeble" and my "injury" is not what you would think of when you read the quotation-marked word "injury" but an almost-week on the bench can do all kinds of damage to the psyche. Suddenly I'm spiraling down the dark roads of "what if it'll never be healed" and "what if you do more damage" and "what if you can never run further or faster than your current penguin-pace." I *almost* dreaded going back out of sheer terror that my running career had ended before the smoke had even cleared from the starting gun.
Only one way to conquer your fears, Jes. So I ran.
Slow at first, nearly holding my breath (figuratively speaking, have you ever tried holding your breath while running- doesn't work)in anticipation of the pain, but as one mizuno chased the other, the dark clouds broke and soon there was nothing but southern sunshine beating down on my perspired face. Ahhh, its good to be home.
Fear annulled.
I'll Be Sitting This Week 3/8
I don't believe in luck.
What I would rather call myself is a hapless victim of circumstance.
It keeps me humble.
Being as such, I finally get to the point in my running where miles are genuinely getting logged, I no longer have to force myself out the door, and I'm happily quickening my pace, when I involuntarily succomb to injury- naturally.
Sprinting so fiercely the ground beneath me is nothing more than a blur so there was no way I could foresee the obscure object in my blazing path causing my ankle to rotate in a tragic twist of fate- ehhh... no.
Effortlessly weaving through elite runners as I forged my way toward the lead, my only competition spies me from the corner of their eye and crudely and abhoringly sabotages my race and my leg with the ruthless vengence of a canadian ice hockey player- sending me hurdling to the ground- well.... not exactly.
See, as a "victim-of-circumstance" character, its never so glamorous. In fact, I can't even pin this one on the viscious snarling beastly yapper that's chased me at my heels through my neighborhood twice now. No my war-wound "benching" bares the name "bursitis."
Bur-what?! Bursitis. It sounds like the name of some kind of hideous unsightly blister or infection doesn't it? I googled my symptoms, searched high and low to find the culprit, nothing to be found. But a fortunate (I didn't say lucky) last minute time slot at a free physical therapist clinic at my local running store set up for an accurate diagnosis in less than 2 minutes from my walking through the door.
Turns out its a lack of adequate lubrication for the joint around my hip. (Those are the words of the PT after giving me the real diagnosis and- seeing my blank stare- changed tactics speaking slower and in my native language). Happens from overuse of the muscles, occurs deep between the overlaps of the hip abductors, IT band, and whatever else is in that general anatomical locale.
The RX called for thrice daily icings, a slue of poorly photocopied stretches to mimic, and........ dun, dun, DUN- no running for atleast a week!
The blank stare was promptly replaced with sudden panic that sent the PT into quick recovery mode as he stumbled "Its only a week, you'll be good as new, it shouldn't interfere too much...."
Awwwwwwwwwwwww, mannnnnnnnnnn.
So this is what happens when you stop jumping off the bandwagon, you get shoved off of it onto your butt by something so lame-sounding as "bursitis?" Boo.
What I would rather call myself is a hapless victim of circumstance.
It keeps me humble.
Being as such, I finally get to the point in my running where miles are genuinely getting logged, I no longer have to force myself out the door, and I'm happily quickening my pace, when I involuntarily succomb to injury- naturally.
Sprinting so fiercely the ground beneath me is nothing more than a blur so there was no way I could foresee the obscure object in my blazing path causing my ankle to rotate in a tragic twist of fate- ehhh... no.
Effortlessly weaving through elite runners as I forged my way toward the lead, my only competition spies me from the corner of their eye and crudely and abhoringly sabotages my race and my leg with the ruthless vengence of a canadian ice hockey player- sending me hurdling to the ground- well.... not exactly.
See, as a "victim-of-circumstance" character, its never so glamorous. In fact, I can't even pin this one on the viscious snarling beastly yapper that's chased me at my heels through my neighborhood twice now. No my war-wound "benching" bares the name "bursitis."
Bur-what?! Bursitis. It sounds like the name of some kind of hideous unsightly blister or infection doesn't it? I googled my symptoms, searched high and low to find the culprit, nothing to be found. But a fortunate (I didn't say lucky) last minute time slot at a free physical therapist clinic at my local running store set up for an accurate diagnosis in less than 2 minutes from my walking through the door.
Turns out its a lack of adequate lubrication for the joint around my hip. (Those are the words of the PT after giving me the real diagnosis and- seeing my blank stare- changed tactics speaking slower and in my native language). Happens from overuse of the muscles, occurs deep between the overlaps of the hip abductors, IT band, and whatever else is in that general anatomical locale.
The RX called for thrice daily icings, a slue of poorly photocopied stretches to mimic, and........ dun, dun, DUN- no running for atleast a week!
The blank stare was promptly replaced with sudden panic that sent the PT into quick recovery mode as he stumbled "Its only a week, you'll be good as new, it shouldn't interfere too much...."
Awwwwwwwwwwwww, mannnnnnnnnnn.
So this is what happens when you stop jumping off the bandwagon, you get shoved off of it onto your butt by something so lame-sounding as "bursitis?" Boo.
Savannah Shamrock Run 5k 3/6/09
This was an awesome race! My third year doing the Shamrock Run, it holds a very dear place in my heart for several reasons.
1) Its a beautiful race! My favorite. It's held on a Friday night (vs. Saturday or Sunday morning) in downtown Savannah, Georgia. The course weaves in and out of this gorgeous sect of the city at a time of year where things are turning green, people are out and about, and the azaleas are bloomin'. Along the run, which is delightfully lined with many an encouraging townfolke and touriste, we hit several key savannah hotspots, beginning at the race start in City Market, crossing Broughton twice, around Forsyth Park and the numerous historical squares. We pass trolley cars and horse drawn carriages and the ever-present Friday night wedding in Forsyth. It just all adds to make a fantastic running experience.
2)The Shamrock Run marks my re-introduction to the racing world. It was the first race I entered in my adult life back in 2007. I had run cross country (haha- NOT competitively I might add) in high school, but since then had let it take a back burner while having babies and whatnot. At the encouragement of some dear friends, I entered the race and just had a blast- propelling me back into the running community!
3) Its a PR kind of race. I seem to make personal records each time I run. My first Shamrock, I came in a very sad 42 minutes. I am pretty sure that there were racers who had walked the entire 3.1 miles and still came in before me. Still, it was my first race- the bar was set- albeit low. The next year I hadn't trained much, but managed to shave a full 8 minutes off my previous Shamrock time! That's an enormous accomplishment I was very proud of! I enjoyed the race and was content with my 34 minute results. This year I had hoped, but truly did not expect, to continue and slice ANOTHER 8 minutes off the previous year's race result- and when I approached the finish arch and saw that I had indeed come in under 26 minutes (25:55) I cannot tell you the elation and shock I felt. If you could see the race results photos (that I am far too cheap to pay actual money for) you would see picture after picture of my jaw dropped stunned look crossing the finish!
All of this makes for one heck of a good time! The Shamrock Run seems to be getting too big for its City Market start, but it remains a great race. I doubt I'll ever shave off another 8 minutes off that last time, but I look forward to next year already!
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