Only Half Crazy

It's official. I am a half-marathoner. I need to let that sink in for a second.
Three years ago, I started running on a whim, and I couldn't even make the 2 mile loop around the block without walking. I vividly remember run/walking 2.62 miles on the first anniversary of the marathon bombings in 2014, which was the longest distance I had ever completed to date.
And here I am. 

The weeks leading up to yesterday's race were rough. I logged the long miles, but doubted myself each step of the way. I ran in snow, rain, in 50 degree weather, in 80 degree weather, and even on a treadmill, but wondered how prepared I was. I dreamed about the race. I mentioned it to anyone I talked to, really. Like somehow if I told as many people as possible, I would be held accountable to actually do it. I freaked out. I felt sick. I was excited. Then nauseous. I was in denial of hard it would be. I accepted that it would take me however long it took me. I furiously calculated every possibly finish time in my head based how I thought each section of the race would go. I was driving myself nuts. Ok, I was driving everyone nuts!

By the time I got to the starting line, I had calmed down. I had a plan, to go out slow for the first 3 miles or so. I kept checking my pace, and I was going too fast. I tried to slow down. I told myself, run the first 5k through then stop for water. 3 miles passed, 4 miles passed, then 5....where the hell was this water stop?! Just after the 5-mile marker, I took a brief water break. I crushed the first 6 miles, honestly. I was feeling strong AF. And it was at that moment that I became acutely aware of what was actually going on and how much further I needed to go. I had somehow forgotten this was an actual half marathon and now I could not escape. (I was also very aware of a blister forming...I never get blisters in training, but they love fucking with me on race day.) I took a few more walk/water breaks, but finished as strongly as I could. I did not have the energy to sprint to the finish; I manged to raise my arms in victory with much, much effort. I was amazed I was still upright. Then I cried.

If you recall from my last long-distance race in June, I was overcome by a great deal of disappointment that led to a relatively long running rut. I dissected that race way way too much, when I should have been enjoying the moment. I promise I feel differently this time. But indulge me for a moment...

• I walked parts of it, more than I wanted or planned
• It was hard, like, really hard
• I went out too fast in the first half, and unraveled in the second
• I struggled, in training, and on race day
• I was slow
• I didn't run every step
• It took me longer than 2 hours-- the "acceptable" finish time* 
• It doesn't count

     (*according to some people on the interwebs)

If this sounds ridiculous, it's because  IT IS RIDICULOUS. So let me dissect the positive.

• I FINISHED A HALF MARATHON

It totally counts and I totally earned that medal.

I'm taking a break, just to recover, but I'll keep running. Whether that means another half, something bigger, or my usual 5k circuit remains to be seen. For now, I am going to enjoy not being in training and getting back to running just for me.

In a Rut

I have always had a love/hate relationship with running. Right now, it’s more hate.

I think the 10 miler last month nearly did me in…I can count on one hand how many times I have run since then (which is really unusual for me), each time painful in its own way.  I’ve barely managed to run 2 miles without stopping to walk. It’s like I crossed the Newport finish line and stopped caring a little.

Now I have a 5k and a 9k looming over me this July—two distances that should be relatively easy for me, on courses and I familiar with. Yet, I am terrified. Terrified that I’ll crash and burn, and all the work I have done in the past two years will be for naught. Terrified that, as it seems, I am starting over, again. It’s happened before: I have fallen out of practice (or maybe out of love) and even the shortest of distances feel insurmountable, the desire to actually get out the door starts to wane.

I think that is what’s most bothersome now, not just that I am having a hard time physically logging the miles, but that I don’t seem to be enjoying it. 

That's hard to admit. I only want to be doing this if I want to be doing this.

Running has always been a challenge, but at the end of the day, it’s been something I have liked—no, loved. I look(ed) forward to running! I would be nervously excited for race day! Now I am just nervous, and slightly annoyed, as though running left the toilet seat up again. Maybe we’re just in a fight right now. Maybe I need to let things cool off – literally. It’s fucking July people and it’s HOT.  Whatever the case, I’m left wondering what to do. Do I struggle through these July races and then call it quits? What about the half marathon that I wanted to complete? Will I even be ready for something by the end of the year? Maybe it just wasn't meant to be.

I just don’t know.  Running and I need couples therapy.

I’m trying to do my part. Yesterday, I went for a run in my old neighborhood. The change of scenery helped a bit. Though it wasn’t a great run by any means, I didn’t stop on the hills (I do not miss those hills). So let’s just say yesterday was hill training. And it was a success. Tonight, I am heading to run club for the first time in a few weeks, hopeful that my fellow nutcases and post-run beer will motivate me. And just a few minutes ago, I registered for another 5k this month. This time, no hubby, no friends, just me. That will be a first.

See, running? I am trying. I’m not ready to give up on us. I just hope you feel the same way.

10 times the fun.

So about a week ago, I completed a 10 mile race, my longest race by far. I started to write a post about how disappointed I was in myself, about how I walked more than I wanted to, how I was almost thwarted by a sore hip and nasty blister that formed around mile 6 (a blister that is still healing). Then I re-read my last post from January, when I declared I was going to try and be kinder to myself. I switched gears and began to write about the lessons I have learned in training for this most recent race. It was positive, encouraging. I saved the draft. But then I had the kind of day at work where I closed to the door to my office and sobbed quietly, out of frustration, and, at least that day, did not really believe what I had started to write.

There's been a lot going on lately that has me down-- the Presidential race,  hateful legislation, senseless violence. But let's be clear, I am staying the fuck away from any of this in this blog. This silly little blog is mine, my space (just not MYSPACE), my time, to write about something that I (mostly, when I don't have a nasty blister or sore hip) enjoy.

So here I am, writing something, even if it's nonsensical.

Let's go back to June 5. I was spent/hurting/frustrated when I approached the finish. I wasn't even able to run the last mile without a walk break, never mind the last 3 (it's just a 5k! I told myself...a 5K after you already ran 7 friggin' miles is not just a 5k). Yet, something happened when I turned the corner into the fort (yup, this race ended inside the walls of an actual fort!). The other runners from my run club started to cheer--really loudly--for me. Then I saw my husband waiting at the finish line, like he does. Every. Single. Race. And I booked it. There was a woman ahead of me a few yards and I thought uh-uh, I am so passing you. Sorry bib #1016. I still, it turns out, had a little steam left in me after all. And in keeping with my 2016 be-kinder-to-myself-because-I-am-enough-goal, here is what I wanted to say all along. When you're running for 2 hours, you have A LOT of time to think:


1. You will not be first. I've got news for you. Unless you're an elite runner (in which case, how did  mistakenly find yourself here??), you will not win the race. You will be passed, by younger runners, sometimes by older runners, sometimes by someone who is just running to catch the bus (not that this has happened to me....). AND IT DOES  NOT MATTER. Because, you probably won't finish last either.  Don't worry, bib #1016 wasn't last either.

2. You're lucky. Seriously, even if you ran one of the worst races of your life and felt like you stopped to walk every 6 minutes (ahem, self), you're lucky. I'm lucky. Think about what a gift being mobile is. Whether you can run a marathon or walk a mile, you can do something many others can not. Try not to take it for granted and try not to be so hard in yourself (ahem).

3. Running is hard. There is really no way around it. It plain sucks sometimes. And the old adage is true: the first step, out the door, is always the hardest. Remember this the next time you're out there and struggling (ahem, self): what you're doing is not easy, mentally or physically. You're allowed to stop and breath every once in a while. WALK is not a dirty word.

4. Everyone had to start somewhere. Do you want to run a half marathon? A 5K? Do you just want to be able to make the mile loop around the block? You can, and you will. In good time. Even marathon runners started somewhere. No, I would not be able to run 26.2 miles tomorrow, but I like to think that if I do choose to some day, I will be able to do it. With training and time, you'll run any distance you want to-- you just have to want to. What do I want? To finish a half-marathon by end the of year (gulp, this makes it official). Will I? Yes. Not next week, not even next month.  I will doubt myself along the way, yes, just like I doubted I'd be able finish a 5k or 10k or 10 miles. When I basically collapsed onto him after the 10-miler, my beau whispered in my ear you can do anything. I shrugged it off at the time, but he's pretty smart so I an inclined to believe him :)

Twenty Sixteen

I don't do New Year's resolutions.

I mean, don't get me wrong, there are certainly things I need to improve upon (every day), but I don't like the idea of setting some potentially unrealistic goal. What happens if by the next December 31 I am 5 lbs heavier rather than 15 lbs lighter? Does that mean my entire year was a disaster? How many of us "resolve" to do something, go at like gangbusters for 2 months, then totally fall off the wagon and forget about it until December 30th? And it's impossible to lose 15 lbs in a day.

That being said, goals are generally good. There are things that I struggle with every day, and every day I try to get better. At the risk of sounding like I am making resolutions, I am going to share some of those things with you:

1. I need to be nicer-- to myself. As a byproduct, I will probably be nicer to others, as well.
I think we all--especially women-- struggle with this. How many times have you said to yourself (maybe even today) I'm worthless, I'm fat, I'm awful at my job, I don't know why I bother, I'm an idiot, I'll never be able to run this race, I'm slow, My ass looks huge, I'm stupid? Think about it-- did you tell yourself anything like this today? I certainly did. Now think about this-- would you ever say these things to a good friend (or anyone??) Can you imagine texting a dear friend right now "You're bad at your job and pretty ugly, too"? NO (at least I hope the answer is no), so why is it okay to say this to yourself? It's not nice. I have also been thinking about how it may make others feel. Think about how you internalize it when a good friend complains that she's fat or stupid. Do you think to yourself, good Lord, if she's fat what does she think about ME?? Is it possible that the people around you internalize, as well? If I complain about having a bad (for me) race and an awful pace , how does my friend who finished after me feel? Of course, my negative comments are not directed towards her, at all. They have nothing to do with her. But if I were on the other side, I may think, Jeez if she's slow, she must think I suck. Maybe I am too sensitive (I have been told as much). But think about it.

2. I need to relax.  It's a fact that I am one of those people who considers vacuuming or ironing "relaxing". Housework is my happy place. Really. One of my favorite things is cleaning the house while my husband is at work on a Saturday morning. It offers me the order and control I desperately crave. But the truth is, I can't truly relax. Last week I was on vacation from work, and one day, while hubby was getting ready to go to his work, I said very confidently that I was going to have a LAZY DAY! My lazy day consisted of doing a load of laundry, cleaning the bathrooms, mopping the kitchen floor, baking cupcakes, loading the dishwasher, running 2 miles, unloading the dishwasher, frosting previously baked cupcakes, and vacuuming the house. Sheesh. What's worse is that each time I have a massage (which is once a month-- a worthy luxury) my masseuse tells me to the relax, to which I respond "I AM relaxed!". I'm not. During a massage. It's sad.


So there it is. I refuse to succumb and call these "resolutions". But I do strive to be better. Whether you call them goals or resolutions or you're just trying to be a little better day to day, best of luck in the New Year!

Back At It

Facebook has reminded me that I wrote a blog post on this very day last year, when I declared that January would be the official beginning of my 10k training.

Well, I'm back it. This time training for a -gasp!- 10 mile race. Although I ran two 10k races this year-- and lived the tell the tale-- and although I have five months to prepare, I may be even more terrified than I was last year. Ten. Miles. MILES. That's more than kilometers, people. It's not quite as scary as a half marathon. But still, who does this?  You know what will be fun, guys? Let's pay money to wake up before dawn on a Sunday in the summer to hobble across a finish line looking like a stroke victim. What a photo op! Maybe I'll lose a toenail. Maybe I'll get heat exhaustion. This can only end in disaster.

Then again, I really started to think about what scared me so much last year:
You'll have to start running 5 days a week, they say. You'll need to average 15-20 miles a week. Get used to running 60 minutes at a time. Get used to declining social invitations.
I typically run 3-4 times a week.
I average close to 15 miles a week.
I often run for 60 minutes at a time (and don't actually mind that much. Dare I say I even ENJOY it??)
I do pass on social invitations when I need to.

So, if I got over these hurdles of 10k training, I can get over the hurdles of 10 mile training. I haven't officially begin yet, but unlike last year, I don't feel as though I failing already. I may have two (ok, three. ok, four. stop interrogating me!) cupcakes yesterday and I may have skipped a run last night for less intense cardio at home instead. And I may still be scared. But I am excited, too. I'm excited to accomplish a new goal, excited to show myself how strong I am. And I'm ready. Let's do this!

B.B.

I'm going to ask that you indulge me for a moment. I'm not writing about running or fitness or races or pants today. There's a story in the news that I can't get out of my head. You're probably aware of it. Back in June, the body of a 2 1/2 year girl was found washed up on Deer Island. It's taken months, but investigators have finally been able to identify her. Baby Doe has a name--Bella-- and though the public doesn't know the details yet, we have learned that this little girl was murdered, and that both her mom and her mom's boyfriend have been arrested. I am sad. And angry. Really angry. Baby Bella deserved more than this.

*****************************

Hi Bella,

We haven't met, but I have been seeing your face and hearing your story for the past few months. I've been thinking about you a lot, too, especially in the last few days. I actually grew up in an area not far from where they found you. I drive through the neighborhood in which you lived almost every day on my way to work. I always thought that if I ever had a daughter, I would name her Isabella. She would be a Bella, like you.
What happened to you makes me sad, really sad. You were probably scared and confused. You may have felt pain. I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry you won't get to grow up in a city that loves you so much.  Mostly I'm sorry that the adults in your life, the very people whose job it was to keep you safe, failed you. You deserved so much more.

Rest in peace, Baby Bella.

Love,
L.

I AM

I'm a runner, but I'm slow.

I'm a runner, but not a real runner.

I'm a runner, but I don't run every day.

I'm a runner, but sometimes I take walk breaks.

I'm a runner, but I only run for short distances.

I'm a runner, but sometimes I avoid the hills.


I'm a runner, but I don't like to run in the heat.

I'm a runner, but I'm always at the back of the pack.

I'm a runner, but I don't look like one.

I'm a runner. Period.