I Run, But I'm Not a Runner... Or Am I?

This may sound a little strange, but stay with me...

There is a constant kidding that my hubby and I partake in. It is his way of gently making fun of his beloved and my way of lowering my own expectations. The other day, at my doctor's office, I was discussing why my foot discomfort was creating such a disruption in my life. I started the sentence with, "Because I run..." Notice I did not say, "I'm a runner..." The variations of the statement made in my doctor's office can include, "I like to run..." or "When I run..." or "I am training for..." I avoid the words, "I'm a runner" like the plague. Needless to say, once hubby and I got into our car after that doctor's visit, the harassment began. Almost in his best childlike "nah nah nah nah boo boo" voice, Hubster said, "So 'because you run', not because you are a runner, huh?" Or something like that - I try to drown him out when he's trying to be cute.*

I go to specialty running store for my shoes, because I run. I can spend hours in a sporting goods store looking at running gear and training items, because I run. I have a special savings account to pay for registration fees, because I run. I subscribe to multiple websites that will send me email notifications regarding races in my area, because I run. I receive gifts that help me in my training because everyone knows I run. I have Hal Higdon's training website bookmarked on my iPhone, because I run. I am sane (relatively) because I run. Yet, I am not able to refer to myself as a "runner".

I may have uttered the words, "I'm a runner" once and quickly retracted that statement. There is something in my mind that is holding me back from saying those words in lieu of "because I run." I think I would feel like an impostor if I attempted to say those words out loud. Let's face it... I am no Kara Goucher or Paula Radcliffe. Nor am I Dimity McDowell or Sarah Bowen Shea. By saying, "I'm a runner" I feel that I would be putting myself in the same category as these women. The only thing that we have in common is that we are all mothers and we enjoy running. Hubster might disagree with that statement, too. He seems to be under the impression that I also am a sponsored runner since all I work out in is Nike apparel, but I digress.

The playful "You're a runner. No I'm not" argument ensued for a little bit until hubby had to state the obvious (in his mind). He said, "You're a runner because you have an orthopedic surgeon and are having surgery on your foot to help you get back to running." He reveled in victory as he left me speechless. I had no words to combat his statement. So I sat in silence instead of telling him he was right.

That's right. The doctor appointment we were at on this particular day was a foot and ankle specialist that I have been seeing for about a year. It turns out that my running "career" is over for 2010. On Friday, I will have surgery on my foot to finally (God willing) get rid of this pain that has been bothersome since last year. It appears that 97% of individuals will respond well to various, more conservative types of treatment. Another 2% need a little bit more aggressive forms of treatment. Then there is that 1% that require surgery.** Oh, lucky me. I reviewed the synopsis that my doctor wrote down to give to the surgical center. He described my condition as "recalcitrant". My lucky readers get a two-for-one today. A blog AND a vocabulary lesson. Recalcitrant means "stubbornly resistant to authority or control".*** My daughter, Diva, and I laughed about this for a while. Isn't it ironic that my stubbornness extends all the way to my foot? I have a new accusation to throw at my daughter when she is being, well... Recalcitrant.

With all this being said, I will have no journey to blog about. I still won't be able to conquer my first half-marathon this year. A day or two after I was told I will have surgery, I went for a run. I know... Insane. But I figured, they're are going to fix what's wrong - why not get my money's worth? I took it easy and did a pathetic sub 15 minute mile. It was the best bad run in my history. I was smiling the entire time. I took in the joy that I was missing by trying to PR and push myself. Although I will miss my runs, I will make myself follow the plan prescribed by my doctor to have a speedy and accurate recovery. Although I will not have running stories to tell, I will be using the prompts distributed by Mama Kat and her writing workshop which can be found at www.mamakatslosinit.com. A friend turned me onto this site and I hope it will bring some of the sanity I find while I run.

By the way, because I run, I have already registered for a half-marathon on March 27th (to benefit Susan G. Komen for the Cure).


*I know you're reading this KISA, I love you. Smooches.
**These are statistics given to me by my doctor.
***Thanks Google!

Is This Plan B or Plan C?

My coveted first half-marathon was not conquered when I planned to complete it. I got so much support and advice from my running buddies following my failure. I love being a part of this running "cult" (I only use this word because there are so many people that still don't understand why we run). I took a week off to rest my mind and my body. My first run back on the schedule was a 5K. The race I chose was the MK5K (Mary Kay 5K), proceeds go to domestic violence and organizations geared towards women's cancer. I gave Hubster my best pouty face and asked him to join me. It worked.

I really enjoyed my first race back. The weather was beautiful. My hubby was jovial. We started off the event by watching the kids run the one mile. It was so cute. I automatically missed my kids and started envisioning them running with me. I loved watching these kids participate. The spectators cheered them on as they rounded the corner to make it to the finish line. Then, it was OUR turn.

It wasn't my best time, but it wasn't my worst. Here's a note to all those race directors out there: Do not make the course go uphill right before the finish line! I believe that I finished approximately 246th out of 900. Heck, I'll take it!

When I got home, my foot was HURT-ING!!!! I cannot remember if I hopped from the garage to the shower or if I leaned on Hubster to make it there. I do remember that while I was in the shower, and the water began hitting the bottom of my foot, I felt an excruciating pain. It brought me to tears in the shower. The first thought that came to my mind: "Please, I can't stop running!" I placed myself in the boot - the less fashionable orthopedic walking boot - and decided that I would wear it when I wasn't exercising. That lasted one workout. I began permanently wearing it.

So, as I sit here a week later, I'm trying to determine what my next move might be. Plan B was to start prepping for White Rock in December. That what the 5K signified. Having to take a week off of training, I've begun to question if I'm ready to start training again. I've begun to question if I will be ready. I began to wonder if I should start working on a Plan C.

The foot hurts and the ass is getting fat. I'm not exactly sure what to do at this point.

HALF-MARATHON

This was the day. The day that my twelve weeks of training came to a head and I proved that I could accomplish something I never thought possible two years ago... Heck, maybe even a year ago. I picked out my outfit the night before and laid it out - complete with my "If I'm doing this it must be getting cold in Hell" BondiBand. I had all of my gear ready to go. I went to bed and drank some hot tea to aid in my drifting off to sweet dreams. As I laid in bed, eyes closed, I started replaying the advice I have received over these past twelve weeks. The one that stood out the most: "Visualize yourself crossing the finish line." I kept replaying that image in my head. Over and over and over again. It was a picture perfect moment. I looked strong. The strength of my stride got stronger and longer as I got closer to the finish line. Once I crossed the finish line, I would run into my husband's arms and my children would join our embrace (although Diva said she was sleeping in and not joining us). Ahhhh... What a sweet visual to fall asleep to last night.

The day had arrived. It was dark and early and it was time to get dressed. I found out that Diva changed her mind and wanted to go cheer me on. That made me smile. Before I knew it. We were ready to go. The dense fog made it somewhat hard for us to get there - missing one turn made us a tad bit later than we anticipated. Once we arrived to the race site, we had less than twenty minutes before the half-marathon started. My first stop was to the portapotties. Oh, the lines at the porta potties. There were four lines, all as long as the others. The conversation flowed as freely as we hoped our... Never mind, I'm not going to finish that statement.

When I exited the portapotty, I met up with a fellow running friend just outside of the potties. We overheard "5-4-3", etc. Freaked out we warmed up/sprinted to the start line - FREAKED!!! How could we have missed the start?!?!?! Then, the announcer then said, "the wheelchair half-marathoner has begun." Whew, we were relieved. We made our way to the starting corral and found the 3:00 pacer, Michelle. My plan was to stick with her and keep her pace. She's been very gracious with her advice and support this past week. I looked forward to running with her. I introduced myself and we were off.

About fifty feet along the course, I saw my family. There was KISA and Diva standing alongside the road. Captain Awesome was sitting on the Hubster's shoulders. I waved with a big smile and continued on. The pace was comfortable as Michelle said that we were going a little fast. That was a relief. I truly felt that I could do this pace for 13.1 miles. The group of runners that were running a 3:00 pace were so friendly - the ones I interacted with any way. Michelle kept us laughing and loose.

At mile one, we were a little ahead of pace. Michelle tried to readjust our strides. We looked to our left and we saw a beautiful athletic specimen gliding along the path, going the opposite direction as us. Michelle began cheering him on and we followed along and clapped and cheered. Then, one of us asked, "How soon do you think he's going to finish." We were astonished to learn he was going to finish the marathon in a third of the time it was going to take us to finish. Luckily none of us had any delusions of being, what's the word? Fast?

Unfortunately, this is basically where my story ends. Circumstances beyond my control sidelined me at mile two. I was done. In tears I called my husband and let him know I could not finish, nor could I go on to the first spectator spot at mile three. The image of the letters DNF on the race result website seared my brain and my disappointment increased. A jovial volunteer offered to take me to start line so I could meet up with the hubby. She was so perky - an obvious attempt to keep my spirits up. I told her how this week was full of barricades that were trying to keep me from running this race - and how I should have relented. I told her how fearful I was to return to our car and tell my children that I quit. She assured me that my son wouldn't remember and my daughter would learn that we have to listen to and cherish our bodies. I hoped she was right.

I saw our car and the Hubster standing beside it. He wrapped his arms around me and let me cry. When I got into our car, my son said, "I thought you were going to run longer." Dagger in the heart. :-) My daughter was so supportive and assured me that it was OK.

I came home and asked to be allowed to lay in bed the rest of the day and pout. This pity party was a one man show. The family agreed but that only lasted an hour or so. Next thing I knew, the kids came into my room with hot pink posters, purple balloons and purple streamers. They intended to have them on the course to cheer me on. Although I didn't finish - or come close to finishing - they wanted to show me how proud they were at my attempt. It was very sweet.

So, what's next? White Rock. I've already put my training plan in my agenda (scheduled workouts make it hard to skip workouts). Although I wrote training for this week, I planned on taking it easy. However, it's time for plan B. The training will go on and hopefully I will go on along with it.

HALF-MARATHON TRAINING: WEEK TWELVE

Counting down the days...

6 Days To Go: This run was a great escape. I was sick over the weekend and spent this day home with a sick kiddo (and another one trying to con her way home from school). I went out for an easy four miles. And when I say "easy", I mean eeeee-zzzzzz. My heart rate barely went into my ideal range. I think I averaged a 16 minute mile. I was singing along to my ipod during the run. I was told this week my runs are supposed to be easy. Well, mission accomplished.

During the last 1/4 mile of the run I began to visualize the race I had yet to endure. I saw the crowds. I saw myself hobbling through the last stretch of the run. I saw myself skipping through this same stretch. I saw myself crawling across the finish line. My last 1/10 mile of this run, I sprinted. I saw myself sprinting across the finish line. Then, I was done. Only two more runs to go.

5 Days to Go: I'm sick. I thought I was over the "uckies" but I guess not. This run was a little painful. My baby boy was at the doctor yesterday. He has an eye infection, bronchitis and the beginning of an ear infection. I think I have his bronchitis. I couldn't go a mile without pain in my chest. Then, my knee started hurting. I asked the Hubs to make me a doctor's appointment. I try to avoid that office as much as possible. So, here is the game plan... I'm going to go to the office, give the doctor my symptoms and tell her to get me race ready. Sounds like a plan to me.

4 Days to Go: I don't run today, but I do go to the doctor. I told her to get me ready for the run on Sunday. She asks, "Is it a fun run?" Yes... It's 13.1 miles of pure joy and sunshine and laughter and cotton candy. Yes - that's sarcasm. She tells me that I have allergy induced asthma and will need to use an inhaler on the run. She also said, "you may not finish". I have been hearing these words too much lately.

3 Days to Go: Just gonna rest.

1 Day to Go: It is the day before my race. I haven't run since Tuesday. I'm feeling 90% better. I'm not sure if I am going to make it 13.1 miles, but I know that I am going to try. I feel like I am not only doing this for myself, but I am doing this for anyone that has told me that they wish they could exercise, run, lose weight. I am doing this for people that have heard my story and reached out to me for advice. I am doing this for every single person that has told me that they believe in me.


PLANNED MILEAGE: 9 Miles
ACTUAL MILEAGE: 7.20 Miles
CALORIES BURNED: 937 Calories

HALF-MARATHON TRAINING: WEEK ELEVEN

Did you miss me? Probably not. I didn't blog last week because other responsibilities took over. This week, I focused upon making my mileage. Needless to say, this week was a challenge, indeed!

I told myself that I had to do every frigging mile of my training plan this week. I can see my half, just around the corner. I asked the kids to tag along on Monday for my training run. I had Captain Awesome in the stroller and Diva on the bike. Little Miss Diva was texting ahead of me and it just reminded me of how slow I was going. But hey... Quality family time, right?

Also this week, the emails and FaceBook updates from my half-marathon have increased in frequency. With each email or ping from my cell phone (from a FB update), the nerves churned in my stomach. I started questioning my ability. At one point I gave myself a time limit to finish the half. Today, my goal is to just finish. Finish it. That's all I want to do at this point. Finish it. I've been told that I am not ready. I've been told that I should just put off my first half. That just breaks my heart.

I did my ten miles, the most I've ever done, this weekend. Talk about pain! Even so, a day later, I'm ready for another run. Does that make me a runner? I do believe so.

I really don't have much more to say. Only, I want to finish.


PLANNED MILEAGE: 23
ACTUAL MILEAGE: 24.07
CALORIES BURNED: 3,201

HALF-MARATHON TRAINING: WEEK NINE

I began to write and rewrite this blog three times today. There wasn't much to report for this week of training, so I wasn't sure how to fill this entry with substance. My solution? I decided to go out for a run to clear my thoughts. It worked.

This week's blog is a shout out to some of my fellow runners and my giveaway winner!

Congratulations to Anita Valle. She won the BondiBand giveaway. Anita is a fan of the "You Can and You Will" BondiBand. What a great saying! I can't wait to hear her feedback once she receives the BondiBand.

I woke up this morning and went to cheer on two of my running friends as they ran a Labor Day 5K. I'm so proud of both of these ladies. My neighbor, Dana, tackled her first 5K after surgery. She did an awesome job! Dana is also currently training for a half-marathon in December. I know she will do amazing.

The second lady is my friend Janine. This was her first 5K, period! I know how hard she has been training and I am also very proud of her. She had her hubby there running alongside her throughout the race. Her hard work really paid off.

Great job, ladies!!!! I'll say it again. I'm so proud of both of you!!!!!

There's not much to report during this week of my training. Unfortunately, I took advantage of an easy week and made it uber-easy. I had three runs scheduled, but only completed one. There always seemed to be an excuse, or a Twinkie, that got in my way. Either way, I did not do what I needed to do this week. As I look at my calendar, the reality is daunting. There are twenty days until my half-marathon. Twenty days... TWENTY. DAYS. Less than three weeks, people. I gotta get this done. I'm in the home stretch and I have to stay focused. I cannot take it easy. I got to get this done. I pray that my foot, my body and my mind can get through these twenty days.

PLANNED MILEAGE: 14.2
ACTUAL MILEAGE: 5.03
CALORIES BURNED: 793

HALF-MARATHON TRAINING: WEEK EIGHT

There are a few items that are constants when it comes to my training gear. The Hubs constantly jokes about my make believe "sponsorship" with Nike because I only like to wear Nike tops and bottoms while I work out. My go to sports bras are Champion C9 (with an occasional Nike bra - but those suckers are a pain to put on/off). Socks are New Balance. Now some days I'll wear a random generic shirt/short/sports bra/sock. However, one thing that I will not forget to wear during a workout is a BondiBand! Even on the rare occasion, like today, that I wear a cap, you will still find a BondiBand underneath it.

I came across BondiBand two years ago. At first, I thought that they were just another headband - only cuter. My first time wearing one, I was hooked. The headband did not slip on my head, nor did it indent my hair, like other headbands do. It also didn't cause a "headband headache" like the plastic headbands do. And they were cute! Did I mention that already? And what happened after I chopped my hair off so short that a ponytail wasn't an option? BondiBands were still there to keep my hair and sweat out of my eyes.

The headbands are made from stretchy, breathable material that provides comfort to the wearer. They come in Lycra and heavy wicking material called dry-tech coolmax. They are available in solids, prints, with or without sayings. Over the two years that I've been purchasing BondiBands, I've seen their product line grow. Not only do they offer headbands, but their product line has expanded to swim caps, wicking hats - with or without ponytail holes, and neck gators. These are not exclusively for women. BondiBands are available for men, women and children. Above the cuteness, the functionality and the affordability, the customer service is absolutely more than anyone can ask for. Rebecca, owner, truly cares about customer satisfaction. She strives to make sure that all of her customers are happy with their purchases.



So, now it is time for me to share my passion with my readers. BondiBand has offered to give one headband away to one of my readers. How can you win?

RULES
To enter, visit BondiBand at www.bondiband.com and browse their wide selection of headbands. Once you do that, leave a comment below with your favorite BondiBand design. This is mandatory before you can complete any optional entries.

Optional entries
Follow BondiBand on Facebook (1 entry)

Subscribe to my blog (2 entries. If you are already subscribed, leave a comment saying so).

This giveaway ends on Sunday, September 5th at 11:59PM CST and is open to U.S. residents, only. I will use random.org to choose the winner. Winners will have 48 hours to respond the email notification. If I do not receive a response within those 48 hours, I will pick a new winner.

Now, about my training...
My first run back after my pity party hangover was met with caution. Do you know how when you wake up the day after with that nasty hangover and the remnants of the night before takes form as fuzz on your tongue? Neither have I but I've heard stories. ;-) I had the fuzzy taste on my tongue (of failure) and pounding head pain (of self-doubt). So, how did my first run start? I'll tell you, it wasn't well. A 1/4 mile into the run I was faced with a dead rat on the side of the road. Puke crept its way to the top of my throat. Disgusting! Luckily, I was faced with a cute little bunny 1/10 of a mile later. That bunny put a smile on my face and it was there for the remainder (almost) of the run. I didn't experience a PR, but the run felt great. I was consistent. I didn't walk any of it. I wasn't miserable. I.AM.BACK!!!!!

I'm not sure if it was the cooler weather, the new Garmin sports watch that Hubs gave me for my birthday or the pity party that did it, but this was a great week. I shaved off 13 minutes from my time between Tuesday and Thursday. I ran over eight miles without walking on Saturday. I really, for the first time, feel like I can get through the half-marathon in September.

PLANNED MILEAGE: 20
ACTUAL MILEAGE: 21.58
CALORIES BURNED: 3,673
ACCOMPLISHMENT: Ran the longest that I've ever ran at once!!!!

HALF-MARATHON TRAINING: WEEK SIX

There's nothing much to report this week. I'm halfway through my training and finished this week with a race. Insert sigh here ---->

I ran over five miles on Tuesday, encased by an hour of boot camp. On Friday, my legs (and buttocks) were still sore from that workout. There was more sprint work this week on the dreadmill. I even surprised myself by getting up at 5:00am on Thursday for a run date with a friend. Even I thought I was a little insane for doing that. I found a runner's diet plan midway in the week that I plan on implementing next week. Again, nothing super exciting occurred this week. Until my 5K on Saturday. Maybe exciting is overselling it.

I tossed and turned on Friday night as I anticipated my first race since Mother's Day. I don't know why I was so anxious, nervous, excited, or whatever it was that I was. I think I had higher expectations for myself for this race after all of the training that I have been doing. Let's face it. I. HAVE. BEEN. TRAINING!!!! Yes, in fact, I KNOW I had higher expectations for myself. With my other training plans, I'll be honest, I wasn't as diligent. Maybe I skipped a couple of runs each week. If I did my long run each week, that was what mattered to me most. This time, it's been much different. I have been very careful about making sure that I get my miles in. I really have!

After an argument with Google Maps, we finally arrived at the race site. It was an inaugural race, so I didn't expect a huge crowd. The course was described as "flat and fast", two words that I loved seeing described about a race. I'd say that there were about a few dozen participants that lined up for the 5K race. I'd say that the size of this race makes my mistakes more visible.

Mistake One: I was one of the first ones to line up. Yes, I should not have lined up with the fast guys, but I was ready to start.

Mistake Two: As soon as the air horn went off, I bolted. They say that a race is good to help you pace yourself and keep up with others around you. I should have lined up with at least the mid group of participants. Lesson learned.

Mistake Three: I held my breath. I don't know why. Less than a minute into the race, I was ready to stop. I had an unexplainable feeling in my throat, head and chest. It wasn't good. I seriously considered falling to the ground or twisting my ankle. I wasn't able to get my rhythm back after that horrible start.

I really wanted to cry so many times during the race. Even though the course wound through shaded paths, I was miserable. I even had thoughts of quitting... Not just the race, but training. I thought, "If I can't run three flingin' flangin' (edited of course) miles, how the hell can I expect myself to run 13.1?" I came close to stopping during that first mile and turn around. I came close to walking back to the start of the race and find The Hubster, my biggest fan, and tell him I give up. Why didn't I? I knew what he would say. Oh, but I also knew how great it would feel to have his arms around me and give me the big supportive hug that I love him for. Yes, he would support me if I decided to stop running. However, I know that if he were running next to me he would tell me that I was capable and I could do it and he believed in me. So, I kept going.

36 minutes.

Yes, it took me 36 minutes to run 3.1 miles. My desire to quit had never looked so appealing. I was absolutely mortified and it took everything in my power to not cry. I thought the race was horrible. Seeing my time was worse. This was worse than my first race after injury. Then, KISA reminded me why I participated in this race. I will take the mistakes that I made this time and learn from them. He's one smart guy.

As I close out this week, I leave you with a disturbing visual. Enjoy! Oh, by the way. Check back next week. I'm hosting my first giveaway! I'm very excited!!!




PLANNED MILEAGE: 13.1
ACTUAL MILEAGE: 14.75
CALORIES BURNED: 2,696
ACCOMPLISHMENT: I learned valuable lessons that will get me through these next six weeks.

HALF-MARATHON TRAINING: WEEK FIVE

As I sit here and reflect upon my last week of training, I have to say... I'm tired. This Texas heat was brutal. All week the temps were over 100 degrees. On Wednesday, the heat index was 108 degrees. I walked out my door around 6:30pm on Monday to run to boot camp. That day the high was 103. As soon as I exited my garage, it felt as the heat just sucked all my energy out of my body. I went ahead and ran the 2.15 miles to boot camp. Endured an hour of boot camp, which included numerous 30 second bursts of cardio (i.e. runs). I then ran the 2.15 miles back home. The payoff? I burned over 1,000 calories during those two hours. The next day, I was spent. During lunch, in lieu of a workout, I napped at a local park.

My Tuesday workout was enjoyed in the air conditioned gym at work. I did intervals and pushed myself hard on the speed. I was quite proud of myself when I ended that workout. My Thursday run was another torture filled day. It was a mid-day run and another 103 day, heat index of 105. I ventured out with my friend, Tash. She was so supportive of me that day. I clearly did not have it. In fact, I even felt like vomiting. The greatness that is Tash was evident when she had me do crunches on the side of the road to instigate the puke. We suffered through it and even decided to take on a challenge - Mud Run. It's a 10k run in the mud with approximately 18 obstacles... Maybe it was the heat that made us delirious enough to be so gung-ho, but we are completely stoked for this challenge.

All week I had been anticipating my long run for the week. It was only six miles... I say "only" because two weeks ago, I got lost - in my thoughts, in location - and went over six miles. The only difference is that I was going to be on vacation for this long run. Not only was I going to be on vacation, I was on a ranch with tons of hills.



The night before my run, it was raining pretty hard. I was somewhat sad anticipating my run having to be regulated to a fitness center. Luckily, the rain vanished by morning. I started off my run at 6:30, thirty minutes after I wanted it to be. Every once in a while, my runs will go "off road" by a sidewalk ending and I will have to run on some patches of grass. This, however, was drastically different. Rocks, mud, weeds and wildlife! Although, I was watching the placement of my feet to ensure that I didn't break an ankle with each stride, I was still in awe of the scenery. About a mile into the run, ten feet in front of me, four deer crossed my path. It was sheer beauty. I stopped dead in my tracks and just was in awe of these animals. I literally laughed out loud as I watched the deer and thought, "This is freaking crazy." With a smile on my face, I continued my run. Up and down hills. On and off asphalt. Past bison, bunnies and another deer. I was in total awe.

The Hubster got out early, too and decided to take a bike ride to meet me on my run. He approached me in his sopping wet shirt and informed me that he came out to make fun of me for running. However, the joke was on him. He was pretty worn out when he proclaimed, "Those hills are pretty high." I asked if he was still planning on making fun of me. Defeated, he said no. Ha, ha. He rode back to the room to change shirts. Unfortunately, I could not finish up my six mile run (a tummy ache sidelined me). As soon as KISA got back to the room, I called him up and asked him to bring the car and pick me up. Hangs head in shame.

I look forward to this upcoming week. I have great plans for the week. I want to increase my strength training. I'll be halfway through my training plan. I will have run more miles than I ever have. It's gonna be great!

PLANNED MILEAGE: 16 MILES
ACTUAL MILEAGE: 14.58 MILES
CALORIES BURNED: 2,221
ACCOMPLISHMENT: Speed work proved successful. Also, worked out on vacation.

HALF-MARATHON TRAINING: WEEK FOUR, Part 2

I decided to take a yoga class the day after my extended run. My hip flexor quite enjoyed it. The next day I decided to do intervals on the DREADmill during lunch. Eight minutes into my workout, the fire alarm goes off. Can you believe that???? I stepped outside and security guards assured me that yes, there was an emergency and we needed to vacate the building. It wasn't too much of an emergency because less than ten minutes later, we were allowed back into the building. Three of the women that were in the gym with me, and started to work out the same time I did, decided that they weren't going to finish their workout. The alarm was a "sign" that they should not workout. I laughed and started my workout over.

I struggled on Thursday trying to decide what my workout was going to be. I wanted to go to boot camp but I also didn't think I was going to get a run in on Friday, so I wanted to get that in while I could. I texted a couple of people and they said the same thing that was in the very, very, VERY back of my mind... Run to boot camp. Why did I know that was coming? I had the hubster drop my equipment and extra water off at boot camp and I made my way there. As soon as I arrived, I was informed that our warm up was a 1/4 mile run/walk. WHAT???? I just freakin' ran 2+ miles! I went ahead and did it anyway because... Well, it felt great! That following hour was torture. I was reminded quite quickly that it had been a while since I incorporated strength training into my workouts. Usually eight pound weights would start to burn during my twelfth rep. I was dying after two. We worked on the stability ball - my favorite - so that added some joy to my workout. After the hour of laughter and pain was over, my hubby arrived and gave me the opportunity to hop in the car. I thought about it. I won't lie. I thought about it long and hard. I went ahead and ran back home. I was 1.75 mile under my planned mileage for the day, so I decided to run home.

Saturday morning, an adorable little man took it upon himself to wake me up. Captain Awesome was making me laugh and my heart smile. I did not want to leave him. He has such adorable mannerisms and expressions. KISA and I laid on the floor being entertained by the awesomeness that is our son. Finally, I made myself leave my baby boy and went out for a run. My body did not appreciate that decision very much. The first 1/4 mile of my run was absolute torture. Not only was my body feeling it, my eyes were being tortured. There were people running the opposite direction as I, and they looked great. I knew that I didn't look as awesome they did.

This run had me pondering one question. Did I miss some sort of memo? Since when did the 80's era douche bag gesture of the finger gun come back? You've seen it. Hand in a fist with the exception of the index finger pointed outwards while the thumb is up. It is usually accompanied by a wink. I only ask because during my long run, three - count them THREE - runners pointed at me with their personal finger guns. One of these runners really hit a nerve with me. He made me so angry. He comes bounding towards me, shirtless and wearing Texas flag shorts. Oh, how I wished that I could trip him after his bang, bang gesture. The third person that decided to do this changed my perspective on the annoyance of this gesture - somewhat. It was about mile five. I was done for. I truly felt I had nothing left to give. I saw another runner gliding towards me. Sweat was pouring down his head. He looked as though he had been running for two hours - solely based upon the perspiration on his clothing. About three steps before he reached me, he did it. There was something different about this particular db shooting. Although he was drenched in sweat, he radiated this inexplicable energy. He was smiling a glistening white smile. I have to say... I felt rejuvenated. I couldn't help myself. I began laughing. It was all so ridiculous, I couldn't help but laugh out loud. That LOL'ing preoccupied my thoughts as I forged up the hill that was defeating me only moments before.

All in all, this was a great week - as far as training goes. I exceeded my planned mileage by almost five miles. Although Saturday's long run wasn't the icing on the cake - running out of water twice, chapped buttocks from clenching so hard until I could find a bathroom, frustration from lack of sidewalks on my planned route - I felt relieved after it was over. Yes, onlookers may have thought I was some crazy person as I traveled the streets arguing with myself (yes, out loud) about what I had left to give. I realized that I have more than I think.

Four weeks down, eight weeks to go.

PLANNED MILEAGE: 14 miles
ACTUAL MILEAGE: 19.83 miles
CALORIES BURNED: 3,323!!!!
ACCOMPLISHMENT: I didn't give up.

HALF-MARATHON TRAINING: WEEK FOUR, Part 1

When life gives you lemons... Go for a run!

Today was an emotional roller coaster. I just could not get out of this horrible mood. Around lunch time, my sister suggested I grab my running book and go to a park and take in some nature. She sent me a link to a local park and even gave a little sales pitch of the park (there are roses there). I would like to publicly acknowledge that she was right. I skipped to the chapter entitled "Potty Talk: Peeing, Pooping, Passing Gas, and Periods" and my foul mood seemed to lift away. ***On a side note, I strongly recommend Run LIKE A MOTHER to any of you women runners. It's pure greatness!*** That chapter, along with my sister's goofy text messages sent me back to work with a smile on my face and pep in my step.

That all went away in an instant. I received devastating news about some family members that had me emotionally spent. I received the news while I was at work. To add to the slew of emotions I was feeling, embarrassment was heaped into the pile. My boss walked by my office as I was reviewing details of this incident in an email. He could tell something was wrong but I dare not tell him. I gave him the, "Ummm... Yes I'm fine." tone that also implies "no further questions are welcome and I'd appreciate you vacating my office." As soon as he left I shut my door and went to pieces. KISA, again appropriately named, took me home. I swear I was in shock. I was angry. Sad. Defeated. There was this chunk of vomit that was stuck at the back of my throat that would not expel itself. I didn't even think I could face the walk to the elevators because I did not want the look on my face to solicit questions. I stopped the tears enough to dash to the stairwell that sits directly across from my office. As soon as the door shut, I allowed the tears to continue to flow as I descended eleven flights of stairs.

I came home. Took some phone calls, made some others. Cried, cursed and thought about not so pleasant thoughts. Facebook nonsense helped for about a minute. Hubby brought me ice cream and later "diet" cupcakes. I ate the ice cream but skipped the cupcakes. I let Captain Awesome know that he could have them. However, I did accept the bite the Captain offered, because it would just be plain rude if I didn't. I laid in bed trying to make sense of something that doesn't. So what do you do when something that makes no sense occurs? You do the only thing that makes sense to you. For me, that was running.

My training schedule said 3.5 miles for today. I didn't know if I was going to do that, or more. I didn't know what route I was going to take. All I knew is that I was going to run. It had rained on my way home and I dreaded the humidity that was still present, but once I took to the pavement, it all seemed to disappear. Not figuratively either. The humidity left. The heat left. God blessed my run with clouds to block the Texas sun and a breeze to get me through the therapy session I had with the road.

I felt rejuvenated just before mile three. I felt wonderful. I was with my thoughts and emotions, but my body was being strong for me. I was in the zone and just decided to keep going. At about 3.6 miles I found myself in what seemed to be a fairly new development. I had wandered into the neighborhood because I had run out of sidewalk. Not really sure how I got there, but I stopped a car and asked for directions to the last landmark I passed. I finally found myself on familiar ground and headed back home.

I felt pooped right around mile five. I got this horrible stitch under my ribs. It was painFUL!!!! I tried walking it off. It wasn't getting better. This is going to sound crazy, but the words of Sarah Bowen Shea came into my head. I had read her chapter "Mental Toughness: Training My Brain" last week. In this chapter, SBS says, "...but if your body never knows what it feels like to go longer, harder or faster, your mind will never trust that it can... Go long enough so you're super uncomfortable and every fiber of you is screaming at your brain to tell your body to slow down. Then go at least a minute - or 5 - longer." When I realized that I only had a half mile to go before I was home, I forced myself to suffer through the pain and pick up the pace. I'll be dang if I'm going to finish by walking. I wasn't sprinting, but I wasn't going at my recovery pace either. My head kept telling my body, "just one more minute longer, just one more minute longer." I got my third wind and smiled as I turned the corner into our subdivision. When I turned the corner to my street, I started sprinting. With each mailbox I reached, I told myself "harder, just a little bit harder" and I picked up speed. By the time I reached my driveway, I felt amazing... That is until the creepy guy in black shoes and white socks pulled half way up his leg gave me an oogie smile.

I'm not sure what the rest of this training week holds in store for me, but I just felt that this run deserved it's own entry.

***The picture is of a rose bush at the park that I took as proof that I followed my big seestor's advice.***

HALF-MARATHON TRAINING: WEEK THREE

I had high hopes for this week. After the week prior, I just knew that I was going to accomplish great feats during my third week of training. Last week I improved my time and just felt so accomplished. On Sunday, KISA, Captain and I walked to visit some friends. We logged just over two miles that day. I was so optimistic. I told myself I was going to run in the mornings and not afternoon/evening any longer. This Texas heat is just too much for this chica. Can I just say how enticing my snooze button is so early in the morning?

Wednesday evening crept up on me and I hadn't logged any mileage for the week. Of course, I could have headed out the door and go for a run, but I hadn't hydrated at all during the day. I began drinking my water as I gripped to KISA. His response?

"Well, atleast you have something to write about this week."

I thanked and congratulated him on making it into this week's blog... Again. His smile radiated with pride.

Luckily for me, my copy of Run LIKE A MOTHER by Dimity McDowell and Sarah Bowen Shea arrived this same day. To read about the inner argument that Dimity (or was it Sarah? My feet are too sore to get up and check my facts with the book) faced before getting up for a run motivated me to get up at 5:30 the next morning. I felt great. About three miles into the run, I got that feeling. I felt like I could go for another three miles. If it wasn't for my day job, I would have tacked on that three extra miles.

Saturday was my long run. I had five miles scheduled, but felt like I needed to do more since I lacked in the mileage department this week. I ran a mile and was faced with a challenge. I came to a corner where I usually turn, but up ahead there was a hill. That hill was taunting me. I ran in circles on that corner until the "walk" sign illuminated. By golly, I was going to run up that hill. I proceeded. Do you know what was at the top of that hil? Yet another hill. I ran up that one, too. Next thing I knew, I found myself two miles out from my planned route, conquering a number of hills, resting upon jelly legs. I asked a man walking his dogs where I was. Once he told me, I just wanted to crumple on the sidewalk. My shock must have been written all over my face. He asked me if I had gone to far. I laughed and said "oh yes".

I turned around and took a little joy in knowing "what comes up must come down". However, those darn hills were not aware of Mr. Newton's little law of gravity. I swear. I was looking forward to the recovery going downhill. I found myself NOT going downhill. At one point, I wanted to crawl up the hills. I fought off the urge to call KISA and have him come rescue me. How the heck do you think he earned his name? I finally found myself back home, laying in my driveway. As I felt the breeze, I realized one fact: those hills made me their bitch today.

Momma's going to get herself a pedicure today!

PLANNED MILES: 14
ACTUAL MILES: 9.04 (plus 2m walk)
CALORIES BURNED: 1,239
ACCOMPLISMENT: I survived!

HALF-MARATHON TRAINING: THE REASON BEHIND THE INSANITY

Regardless of being told that running blogs bore some people, I've decided to log my training as I tackle my next fitness goal. Let me start by sharing how I began this journey.

KISA and I had to delay the start of our relationship because he was in the process of training for a full marathon. This was an insanity that I just could not wrap my head around. I never understood why people would run 3.1 miles (a 5K) much less a full 26.2 miles! I had, in the past, participated in 5K's; however, I typically walked those. Regardless of the neon sign that flashed "CRAZY" on KISA's loveable head, I chose to begin a relationship with this unstable man. A couple of months after his marathon feat, he participated in a 5K with a few of his friends. I got up bright and early to cheer my man on. It was cold and too early for me to be awake on a weekend. I didn't understand why he needed to drive an hour and a half to go for a "jog". Nevermind that he actually had to pay a registration fee to participate in this mass insanity. I took advantage of that generous commute and slept on the way there.

I was a good girl and cheered on my now hubby as well as the friends that had joined him. This was the first 5K for one of them, as well. It took less than forty minutes for them all to cross the finish line and we loaded back up into the vehicle and headed to breakfast. Yes... I got up early and didn't even get breakfast prior to freezing my bum off.

As I settled into a cozy sleep position in the back seat, these race participants and I began to discuss how this whole running obsession began. Apparently, KISA had been convinced to run a marathon during a night of partaking in adult beverages. Once I learned of this I made a declaration before drifting off into a sweet slumber, "I don't care how drunk I get, I will run a marathon when hell freezes over."

Fast forward a few months. My company began a coed softball team. Growing up I loved playing softball so I jumped at the chance to play. After a few games I realized that I needed to increase my speed. Of course I went to KISA and asked him to help me. We began with sprints. Then, we were running during our lunch breaks. Next thing I knew, I began enjoying these runs. I was even running without my "running coach." I found these runs therapuetic. When the single mom struggles began to get to me, I would put my running shoes on and get lost in the run. I can use the escape of the run to get lost in my thoughts. I run when I'm happy. I run when I'm sad. I run when I'm angry. I even run and have conversations with God and those that I have lost.



I ran my first 5K a year later, at the same event I had cheered on KISA, and he was right there running beside me. It was another cold February morning and I spent the entire run smiling. Injuries followed. I was sidelined for half of that year, following my first 5K. I will just say it - I was a bear because I could not run. After taping, wraps, crutches, orthopedic shoes (which were NOT fashionable), and a walking boot - I was able to lace up my shoes again. The Heavens opened up and the angels were singing. I could reclaim my sanity.

Fast forward to this year. I have run a number of 5K's and finished my first 10K two months ago. I was even running them without KISA, but he was always along the course and finish line cheering me on. He even brought my baby boy to support me. My first half-marathon was slated for December. I took some time off of running in June to focus on some events very personal to me; however, I found that I was sinking into a "funk." I would not get out of bed. I began to put exercise on the back burner. I didn't smile as much. I confided (aka whined) to KISA about how unhappy I was. What words of wisdom did he impart? "Train for something." He knows how productive I feel when I am training and have an end goal in sight. So, we have moved up my half-marathon goal up from December to September.

I have not run since the end of May. I fear the pain that will ensue as much as I anticipate it. I know that there will be disappointments. Hard runs. Feelings of failure. I will move pass this. I know that I will be unable to hit the road as fast as when I last left it, but that will just fuel my fire on my next training run. I will not bore everyone out there with daily updates regarding my journey. Instead, I intend to post on a weekly basis.

It is getting late now and I need to start hydrating for tomorrow's run! By the way, KISA informed a coworker that I will be completing my first full marathon next year. Has anyone heard the weather report for hell?