My day of reckoning

Sooo, the contest. The humiliating contest with Razz and Xenia. Sigh, not my best work. Those two did really well with their quantifiable "run X days a week" goals, and since my goals were a bit more abstract, I'm left to subjectively grade myself. My original plan was to only count runs when they were done With A Purpose (WaP) as opposed to the mindless, timeless runs I normally do.

Some weeks were good and some not so good. Add in the fact that I wore my heart monitor and watch exactly twice in the last month to monitor my pace, and I'd probably have to give myself a B- overall.

Upon reflection, there were a few intentional reasons I didn't train as hard as I could or should have, but there were plenty more times I just fell back into my comfortable training pattern of running without a purpose or plan. The silver lining has been a realization that if I really want to run like I want to run and qualify for Boston some day, I know my training weaknesses. And for that, I owe those two some real thanks.

Now, as to the matter of determining a winner, I probably deserve a shinny bronze metal, but I'll leave it up to the other two to decide how they fair relative to my B-. And Razz, if you need any reminders, keep in mind you:

• Started this thing off with a whiny, sandbagging tale of some alleged broken rib


• Counted a 2 mile run- twice (which isn't a crack on running 2 miles, but a crack on the four paragraphs of pathetic rationalizing that followed)


• Ran one day one week while not even working

As an educator and a man, I trust you'll make the right decision.

Only 3 days until the marathon, and it's an odd mix of being not nervous and yet very nervous because I'm not nervous. I was much more manic last time , and I can't decide if it's a good thing or a bad thing that I'm not freaking out leading up to this one. Is this normal? Anyone know?

Hi, I'm "Sarah"...

... and I'm running the Lincoln Marathon on Sunday!

That's right. I was mentally in the marathon, and then I was out, and then I wanted to be in but it was sold out, but now I'm REALLY IN! WOO HOO!

For one day only this weekend, I'm Sarah, the 23 year old, size medium, from Lincoln Nebraska. Nice to meet you.

(I feel like I'm 19 and trying to memorize fake ID information. Quick- what's your date of birth? Address? Hair color? Are you an organ donor?)

Thank you Sarah's friends for getting married this weekend in Iowa and drawing her out of town. Now I just need to detox from the obscene amount of M&Ms I've consumed the last week to make myself feel better. I also need to get my mind marathon-ready since I've kept up with the running, but slacked on all the stretching, nutrition, rest and other mental parts leading up to a race. So much to do.

This has been a red letter day for a bunch of different reasons, but life is going really well for this lady today!

(Yes, I'm still searching for a bike with a few exciting prospects. I have a couple friends on the prowl, and apparently the one thing bike people love more than biking is searching for bikes for other people. I need to this kind of service in all aspects of my life.)

The silver lining

After everyone's kind sympathy, emphathy, encouraging words and suggestions, I'm feeling much better about (probably) not doing the Lincoln Marathon next week. I haven't ruled it out entirely, but my most optimistic hook-ups didn't work out, so it's most likely a no. A lesson against procrastination if nothing else.

On another note, I discovered this week that I've maxed out my PTO accrual. That's not the silver lining, although how pathetic is that? My life is so vacationless and lame. Anyway, we have the option of getting cash, so next week I will have a week's worth of moola coming my way.

Now, I could put it in savings or get some of those projects done around the house, but what's the fun in that? No, I'm putting it toward a purchase I've been wanting to make for months: a bike!

Okay, maybe not this bike (it appears to have a pimp cup holder!), but a road bike I can use to cross train on the trails and highways around town. I've been to a bike shop to learn a little about what all I'll need and check out the cute gear I'll get to buy. Something new is out of my price range, so my plan is to visit this used bike shop in town to see what they have before possibly heading out to Craig's list or ebay. I don't know nearly enough about bikes to buy something online by myself.

I'm still pretty bummed, but it's nothing a little retail therapy can't cure. Hopefully the prospect of a new toy will help turn my frown upside down.

Sold Out pity party

So, you know that Lincoln marathon I've been planning to do from the moment I crossed the finish line of my last marathon six months ago? While I'd mentally committed to it, I never actually physically committed to it.

It's a long story why not, but it boils down to some life prioritization issues I was working through. Last Monday I made the decision not to do the marathon at all.

That pretty much lasted a day.

I negotiated with myself that if Sunday's 20 miler went well, I was back in for one more. Especially after the excitement of Boston. (Congrats to all the finishers!) Sunday went great, but when I went to register: SOLD OUT. Damnit! This race historically hasn't sold to capacity, but it's totally my fault for waiting too long.

I've been scouring marathon guide to try and find a close race in the next 30-45 days without much success. (If anyone knows anyone willing to... uh... "recycle" an unused full or half registration [Earth Week shout out!], shoot me an e-mail.) I'm extremely disappointed about not being able to do this marathon, but I may still volunteer just to be a part of it all.

Although, the more I think about it, this may be the universe telling me my original life prioritization instincts to not do it were correct . There will be other marathons at other times in other places.

I suck at yoga

My mom has been going to yoga class for the last several months, and she invited me to go with her on Saturday. I've never done it before, but know it's great for running, and I could benefit from some unwinding, so I said sure.

The class is taught by some guy named "Kiefer" who, based on the praises my mom had been singing, apparently has serious cougar appeal. (I put his name in quote because, come on, no way that's his real name.) "Kiefer" is super into yoga and body and mind and soul and (I'm pretty sure) going commando. Those baggy pants left very little to the imagination.

We set our mats in a circle and start pre-class chitchat. As I surveyed the room, most of the class was ladies in their 40-50s with official yoga apparel and bodies that suggest this isn't their first yoga rodeo.

The first breathing section was easy, but we quickly moved into some bending and holding that straight-up wasn't happening. My hamstrings are pathetically inflexible and my legs were shaking and quivering through just about every move. I thought this was supposed to be relaxing!

Once we really get into it, "Kiefer" crinkles down into some heel-grabbing contort. Yeah, right. As my body stops less than 50% of where it's supposed to go, I see my mom out of the corner of my eye. I should point out that my mom is an impossibly petite half-Japanese woman. She has effortlessly poured her body into an exact mimic of "Kiefer's" pose like some delicate origami crane. Then, she says to me in a trash-talking tone I recognize only in myself:

"Really, you can't do this?"

Oooh, if my lungs weren't being crushed by the weight of my own torso, it would be on, lady! I tried to remind her that the genes of her 6'4", European-decent husband are mostly to blame for my lanky, baby giraffe, yoga opposing physique, but I was too busy willing the clock to hurry the hell up so we could get to something less painful.

I survived the posing and collapsed into a shaking, sweating, thankful heap to start the meditation section. Apparently, I can't do that right either. While I was supposed to be doing something or other with my 7 eyes, I was mentally drafting this blog entry.

Physical aspect of yoga: fail
Mental aspect of yoga: fail

I woke up this morning with my traps screaming and my hamstrings tighter than usual. Great idea, mom! Thankfully, several ibuprofen later, and I kicked out 20 miles on a beautiful spring day. 14 days until Marathon Sunday. Bring on the taper.

Fiber One bars are the devil

Now, I'm all for the healthy snacks. I read about people eating these fancy bars and peanut butter and granola, and I always want to be like the cool kids. Since none of these places will send me free swag, I'm forced to send my money to the evil corporate giant General Mills.

When my friend offered me my first Fiber One bar yesterday, I figured why not. The nutrition info seemed promising, and who doesn't love a little chocolate during the day. Especially since I had a speed workout with the running group in the evening.

(Raise your hand if you know where this is going?)

Here's a little bit of info about fiber for those who need a hint:

Fiber can cause intestinal gas, abdominal bloating and cramping. Fiber works best when it absorbs water, making your stool soft and bulky. Without the added water, you could become constipated.

Now I eat quite a bit of fiber in my normal diet. I make my own granola with flax seed/wheat germ/oats, eat several fruits/veggies daily, make sandwiches with multi-grain bread, etc etc. But apparently I was not ready for 9 grams of Fiber One's wrath on my insides at once.

Running group was quite possibly the most miserable 5 miles of my entire life. The gas had no place to escape (I don't know these people that well), my bloating rivaled my craziest Chinese food soy-bloat nights, and the cramping almost brought me to my knees more than once. And to make matters worse, I've been sucking down water like a crazy person all day without much relief. I feel like Martin Lawrence's character in Bad Boys II where he accidentally took ecstasy and started drinking out of vases and everything because he's so desperately thirsty.

Never again, Fiber One. Ne-ver again.

Runners Lounge podcast

RUNNERS LOUNGE EPISODE 20 LINK

After my near Peabody Award winning performance on a previous Runners Lounge podcast, Razz begged me to come do another one. This one is about running and blogging and all that jazz.

Thankfully, Jess from 21 Days was around to keep it high-brow and to keep us from dissolving into a neener-neener, thumbs-in-the-ears-moose-style contest as Razz and I are apt to do.

We talk about the meta circle of blogging and running. Now I have a whole new layer to add since I'm blogging about podcasting that I'll listen to while I run and later blog about it. It hurts my head.

The main questions are:

• How did you get started in blogging
• Is there anything you won't blog about
• Men v. Woman bloggers
• Blogging about successes AND failures
• What you've learned from blogging

Feel free to leave your own answers so I can think about those and complicate the web even further.

Victory squared

Victory #1

Steve in Speedo posted pics from his recent NOLA Ironman 70.3 race (congrats!) and included a few of this fine piece of Chris McCormack eye candy. I'll let you marinate on those abs for a minute. Go ahead, I can wait.
What really made my day were his shoes. Did you see those? Under Armor running shoes!

I too wear Under Armor shoes! We're shoe twins! That seals the deal. If Under Armor shoes are good enough for an Ironman champ, they're good enough for me.

(And to those that asked about the recovery socks, I got them here: Recovery Sock. There were $29.90, and I love them. [Now- Recovery Sock people, hook me up for the endorsement! I want a pink pair, please.])

Victory #2

This humiliation contest has become fish in a barrel. While I kicked out 42 miles last week and Xenia is successfully running around the streets of Europe (wearing free swag no less), RazZ is failing all over Nebraska.

Do you need a little pick-me-up this week? How many times did you run? If it was more than once, congrats, you beat RazZ! Feel free to mosey on over there and tell him how much he sucks. Don't feel bad about being mean either. I've insulted just about everything except his mama. (She posts comments from time to time, and she's pretty damn cool.)

So for another week: girls rule, boys drool, and we never wanted your rib in the first place!

Ahhh, so much better!

Thank you for everyone's kind words in response to yesterday's whiny and needy post about my non-20 miler on Sunday. (Sheesh, what a mess. Good thing I didn't write it on Monday when I was really pathetic about it.) Anyway, thanks. **Sniff** I love this place.

I've always been a quantity-over-quality trainer, and as much as I try to change, I still prefer to do 10-12 watchless miles over 4-6 miles of focused effort. Good thing I don't plan to race any races less than a marathon because speed training clearly isn't my M.O.. (I'm really like a super model-- I won't get out of bed for less than 26.2 any more.)

Anyway, back to last night's make-up run. After pouting most of Sunday and Monday, I ditched work early, put out some water at my midpoint, and busted out 14 miles on a beautiful spring evening. So. Much. Better. Maybe it was the rested legs and maybe it was the fear that the wind would come slamming back at any second, but I rocked those miles out.

Post run was a green smoothie and my Recovery Socks. I finally feel confident enough to fully endorse these socks. My calves are usually sore after that kind of run, but they felt fantastic today. Fan-f'in-tastic.

Tomorrow is running group with The Coach again, so we'll see what intervals he has in store. Crazy how I hate doing speed work alone, but I look forward to doing them with him. Guess that's why you all sing the praises of running groups and partners.

Weekend fail

So Sunday's 20 miler didn't happen. And yes, I'm still mad about it.

After Friday's great 12 miler+Recovery Sock run, Saturday and Sunday called for wind, rain, and snow. Outstanding. Saturday was fairly miserable, but I made it for 8 hard-fought miles. (I'd normally go about 5 before a long run, but I'd been traveling, and my mileage was a little low for the week. Plus, I had a hint that the full 20 the next day might be a challenge.) The weather was unpleasant, but I'm tough, right?

As I woke up on Sunday, I peeked out the window to see 3 inches of snow and my neighbor's maltipoo souring across the backyard in a blaze of white fur. Okay, I made up the flying dog part, but it's a bad sign when howling wind wakes you up from a sound sleep. (It's also bad when that wind knocked out power to other parts of town and even started a fire.)

I slowly got up and tried to start my pre-run morning routine.

::Fast forward to 3:00::

Yes, 3:00 PM. (I'm the world's greatest pre-running staller.) After seeing the sun was trying to sneak out from behind the clouds, I finally got off the couch. Two steps out the door, and I almost got hit with a flying shingle from my own roof. I should have turned right back around. But no. I'm in the throws of humiliation contest with a certain someone who was so in the zone on Friday that his entire post was a manifestation of the Enzyte guy. Nope, I had to go.

I made it about 3 miles before a particularly strong gust of wind blew me sideways causing me to roll my ankle off the edge of the sidewalk. Good thing I could swear loudly and no one would hear me. I walked it off and continued my tailwind-assisted run.

About mile 12 was when things really started to break down. I'd already run a couple miserable miles into the wind, my ankle was starting to throb, and the remainder of the run was among a golf course and corn fields providing zero respite from the weather. I was just done.

I barely made it home and proceeded to collapse in a dramatic pile of disappointment on the floor. I hate when I have the time and motivation for a long run and something like weather or injury gets in the way. I was tired from 32 miles in 3 days while fighting the weather, but it wasn't the same satisfactory tired from knocking out 20 miles (and earning my Recovery Socks) like I planned. I know I have 3 Sundays before the marathon, but I still feel behind and off-kilter about my training.

Tonight, however, should be better. The sun is out, the wind has lessened, and I'm planning at least 12 miles before dinner. It can't be much worse than this weekend, right?

Recovery socks

I love a good blog product review. If you all rave about it and link to it, I want it. First there was Chic Runner with the Nike hatphone, and now Frayed Laces has sold me on Recovery Socks.

Apparently these socks are the greatest things ever. You put them on after a long run or hard workout, and your legs are supposedly good as gold the next day. A couple of clicks and 4 days of waiting, and my very own Recovery Socks greeted me from my mailbox.

I had 12 miles planned after work on Friday. While it's not the hardest workout during my marathon training, it was good enough to justify trying out the socks. I put them on after my shower and proceeded to slide all around the house for the rest of the evening. I even wore them to bed. (Which The Husband thought was real sexy).

Not sure if they really did much to help me recover from yesterday, but they feel cozy and make me look extremely legit. Which, honestly, is just as important. Monday will be the real test since I have 20 miles on tap for Sunday afternoon. Assuming the wind (ug) and snow (uugg!) don't blow me into a ditch.

I kind of wish I would have purchased the pink pair, but it would have been serious overload with my pink Under Armor shoes. (Which by the way, I'm about 200 miles into and really liking. Assuming they can hold up for another 200 miles, they'll probably be my marathon shoes next month.)