#417: Training Begins

As of yesterday, I'm back up and running. I have plenty of time to train for my spring Marathon in May, and a good plan that includes plenty of racing between now and then. This weekend was the start, and I kicked it off with a run that was hard to finish, but much harder to start.

I went to bed Friday night looking forward to a run I had anticipated for a couple of weeks. Our running group, John's Striders was planning a 13.1 mile morning trip through the hilly and beautiful Run the Bluegrass Half Marathon course. I was excited to see everybody again, and to take on one of the most challenging and gorgeous courses I've ever run. When I woke up on Saturday, a wave of depression washed over me. Everything I saw, everything I tripped over in the dark, every whine and yip from the dogs cut into my heart and sucked the life out of me. I tried to get myself together. I lit the kettle for some herbal tea, but by the time the whistle started, I knew I wasn't going anywhere this morning. I fell to the couch, pulled a blanket of despair up to my ears, and sobbed myself back to an uneasy sleep.

Mrs P woke me long after the sun had come up. She bent to kiss me good morning and I burst into tears. She held me, whispering softly until I could talk about what I was feeling. Lovingly, she coaxed me back to sanity. This disease would have killed me long ago without her love and patience. Eventually, we had a cup of tea and some oatmeal. It turned out to be a pretty nice day with my sweetheart. God had another training plan in mind for me. I needed love to exercise my heart's strength before the road tested its resolve on Sunday.

Sunday morning, I was determined to make up the miles I had missed the morning before. I felt like I owed it to the friends who ran, and I owed it to myself, too. In a way, I guess I also owed it to Mrs P. She had worked too hard bringing me back from the brink for me to spend another day on the couch. At 10:00, I was off into the cold Lexington morning. 37° and steely gray skies that seemed just a few degrees from snowing. I started at a nice, comfortable clip, running without walk breaks, just taking in the air and watching the streets pass by. It was a peaceful morning. Most of my neighbors were either in church or in bed. I did the 4.6 miles to the Arboretum in good time, and made my way to the parking lot to meet C. We did 4 miles together, running 2:00/walking 1:00. Later, I would regret not starting walk breaks from the beginning. Our run was like most of our training together. Good friends talking about life and work, punctuated by long, comfortable silences as we patted and puffed up and down the rolling hills. I really enjoy running alone, but there are certain people whose company I love having during a workout. C is one of them.

The last part of my run was not nearly so carefree. After C and I said goodbye, I continued off on the long course I had plotted for myself that morning. The next mile or so was along very busy road with no sidewalks. Fortunately, the beautiful lawns of the stately homes run right up to the curb, so I helped myself to some manicured turf. The soft ground felt good under my feet, but it requires a little more attention. There are holes and sticks and muddy spots to avoid. I was much too far from home to turn an ankle. At mile 11, I went back to the walk break intervals that C and I had used. It wasn't long before I realized that I had waited much too late to start them. Soon, cramps started in my upper calves. I suspect that I was getting a little dehydrated, in spite of the cold and the small amount I was sweating. My hands started tingling. I wasn't sure if it was from the cold, or something worse, but I had no choice. I kept moving. My pace slowed from 13:30 to 14:30 in the course of a couple miles. By the time I got to mile 13, I was hurting pretty badly. I had trouble keeping straight, another warning sign of dehydration. I stopped using the interval timer, and started using light poles. Run to this one, walk to the next one, run to the one after that. I don't know what the timing was, but having a clear, visible limit to my intervals seemed to help. I "ran" the 14th mile in just under 17 minutes. I don't think I've hurt this much since the marathon in May. I jogged my way to the final intersection of my route, then walked about a quarter of a mile to the house for water, hot tea, bananas, and a good long stretch on the den floor while the dogs licked the salt off of me. It's not exactly a massage, but it's a relaxing way to finish a workout anyway.

This one gave me a real sense of achievement. I managed to beat down the devil who tried to keep me off the road, even if it did take a day to get it done. After my nap, I made about four quarts of juices to put up in the refrigerator to get the week started. The colors, sounds, smells, and textures that are part of this task really relax me. It was a good finish to a good weekend.

And so, while it may have been a rocky start, training has begun. It's good to be back.

Peace,
Pennsy

#387: Long, Slow, Chilly Run

As my marathon training turns serious, I want to make blogging a more consistent part of the process, so here's today's run report...

52° - 43°, 15.8 mi/3:41:09 @ 3:09 PM. Arboretum. Red Pegasus. 1:00 run/1:00 walk for 8 miles, then 1:30 run/1:00 walk. Splits 13:41, 13:21, 13:47, 13:22, 14:02, 13:23, 12:56, 13:17, 13:17, 13:02, 14:35, 14:08, 14:51, 14:53, 15:04. Lost my key. M saved me.

All of which means I had a really beautiful, sometimes puzzling, and ultimately weird run today.


And in case you're wondering, the answer is yes, 3:00 in the afternoon is a really stupid time to start a long run in the middle of winter. I slept in this morning, and had a serious dearth of gumption so I put it off for way too long. Then, when I saw that the temperature was 52°, I just couldn't stay inside.


I intended to make this a very long run. I had fantasies of 20 miles dancing in my head, but given my speed and the lateness of the hour, I would have been running until bedtime. My most recent long run was 11 decent miles followed by 3 miserable ones, followed by 2 miles of wishing someone would put a bullet in my head. I decided to just try and improve on that and see how far my legs would carry me.


I chose the Arboretum because a) it's a trail in a park, so there's no traffic to deal with, and b) I had nearly collapsed on my last long run, and the Arboretum trail is a circle, so you're never more than a quarter mile from the car if things turn weird. Which they did.


I used a very conservative Run/Walk interval: 1:00/1:00 for the first eight miles, then 1:30/1:00 for the last 8. This worked really well for me. The short run interval at the beginning forced me to hold back on the early miles. Now that I get a good look at my splits, I'm thinking that stretching out the run to 1:30 might have been a mistake. I certainly started slowing down at 10 miles, which will be a problem in Pittsburgh, where the toughest part of the course is around mile 11. I need to be training so I'm very strong at 10 miles, not starting to fade. My plan is to have no more long runs any shorter than 11 miles. I'll need both conditioning and pacing to climb that hill on May 6.


At mile 11, I felt great. At mile 12, my calves started hurting a little but had recovered well after the minute walk breaks. I was running happy after mile 13, knowing that I had completed the half marathon distance without misery. By mile 14, I could tell I was slowing, but I still felt strong. I knew I could go on for a few more miles. I said out loud, "I feel good. I'm going for 17." I got to 15 in good form, feeling prettier than I probably was. 


Then, at around 15.2 miles, my phone rang. It was Mrs P's ring, and I noticed it was really getting dark out, so I knew she was calling to check up on me. I assured her that I was feeling great, going for a new personal record for distance, and would be home soon. Yes, it was dark. No there were no lights on the path. No, I wasn't wearing my little flashing lights. I was fine. Don't worry. Love you. Buh-bye. And as I closed my phone and slipped it back into my pocket, I realized that my car key was gone.


So here's where I am. It's dark. The temperature has dropped almost 10 degrees since I set off in shorts and a long sleeved tech shirt. I own only one key to my car. We lost the duplicate years ago and added replacing it to that long list of things we ought to take care of some day. It's Saturday night. It's a three-day weekend. And I'm wandering back and forth on the path looking for a single key, in the dark, using my cell phone as a flashlight. #fail. 


I called Mrs P for help. She brought me warm, dry clothes and a flash light. We hiked the .25 miles to where my phone rang, and found the key easily. Then we walked back to the parking lot holding hands in the cold Kentucky night. It was much more romantic than you might imagine under the circumstances.


Which made me kind of glad that I dropped my key. Even if I didn't run 20 miles today.


Peace,
Pennsy

#361:Gotta Love Running in the Cool

61 degrees. 4.06/46:31. 11:27/mile. 12:21 PM. Arboretum Loop. Calibration run for Pegasus after nike+ fail. No breaks. Splits: 11:33, 11:13. Break to change into Adidas. No Breaks. Splits: 11:11, 10:15. Feeling fantastic for 12 miles on Saturday.

Memorial for the victims of ConAir
Flight 5181 in the UK Arboretum.

I ran in two legs today because something went screwy with my Nike+ wrist pod and I had to re-calibrate both sensors so I had to change shoes. That started out as a hassle, but turned into a fine run.

Oh, but I love running in the autumn mist. It has been cool and damp here for days. Hard to believe it was so blistering hot for last Saturday's 5K. Today, I did 4 miles in the cool at the Arboretum, and never felt so strong. It's as if all those 85 degree runs in July and August are starting to pay off.

On Saturday, I'm going to try using mileage instead of time to measure my breaks. I'll walk a minute every mile. I've started wearing my heart monitor with my sportsband, and just can't cope with the thought of running in three watches. Using distance instead of time  for breaks might be a good solution.

I have a confession to make. I chased a young girl in the park today. She passed me shortly after I changed shoes, and drifted away through the trees. I didn't think much about her since I was doing a calibration run and just trying to keep a steady pace. About 3/4 of the way through my second time around the park, I saw her pony tail bobbing up ahead. Either she was slowing down, or I was speeding up. "Great," I thought, "now I'm going to have to follow her all the way back to the parking lot." Just then, we crested a hill, and I felt my stride open up. I've talked about that feeling before, where you feel like you're barely touching the ground and your limbs seem to be liquid? We'll that's what happened. I glanced at my watch and I was running 9 :20/mile. That's very fast for me. And I wasn't slowing down. I flowed down the hill, caught her on the bridge, and pulled away up the other side of the hollow toward home. I've never felt so strong and fast, not because I out ran a co-ed, but because I went looking for something extra inside me, and it was there. What a great thing to learn about yourself. What a great run!

I got a pair of Nike+ Pegasus in the mail today from ebay. Spent about $25. They need a little glue near the toe, but otherwise look fine, a lot fresher than either pair I've been working in. I'm hoping they can get me through the race, then I can start hassling Santa for some shoes for 2011. I'll try them out on my next short run, maybe Monday's recovery jog.

One for the Five passed the $1000 mark this weekend, so I raised the goal to $2000. We're at $1200 already. Use the link to get on board. We're building a great team. Be one of us!

Peace,
Pennsy