Bitten by the Bug

So . . .I want to train for another half marathon. The thoughts started creeping slowly, but I've been sucked in like an addict. It started about a month ago when I was driving home from work and covered some of the course (as I do most every day). I just started thinking "Man, I wonder if I'll do this again. I know I could do better." Then, a week later, I noticed I was saying "when I run another half," not "if I run another half." Then I started getting emails about the fall training group. And just like that, I'm a goner. I will not be training for a half this fall, unfortunately (??), but I wish I was (at least in theory).

I can't say I'm disappointed in my Pig time (dismal as it was), but I do think I could do better, and I want to try. Between missing the last 2 weeks of training due to injury, then getting the mother of all blisters during the race, by those last 3 miles my 77 year old grandma could have shuffled along faster than I could go. Since it was my first half, my only goal was to finish. Yeah, in the back of my mind I had a time I would have liked to have beat, but once I got injured and wasn't even sure I'd get to race at all, that went out the window. I felt (feel) happy just to have been able to finish.

Besides all that, I love the running group. I've gotten to know so many fantastic people, and I just really love the sense of comraderie. Plus, I'm not much of a go-getter in the working out department. I need something like a group to hold me accountable and to motivate me. Oh and to help me pace myself. I still royally suck at that.

With all that being said, I'll be sitting the fall marathon season out. First, Kyle's work schedule does not jive with the training group schedule, and it was a major PITA all around for my parents to watch Logan those 4 months I trained for the Pig. Second, I cannot run when it's hot as balls out. Give me those subzero January temps anytime. Third, I didn't realize training already started a month ago.

Even though I won't be going 13.1 this fall, I don't see this year's Pig being my last half. Which is definitely not something I could have said until recently.

13.1

Well, I did it.

I got up at 3:40am Sunday morning. I wasn't as nervous as I thought I would be. I met up with my ride around 4:45 and we headed downtown. Dave dropped off the 3 ladies who would be relaying (Dave was the first leg), and we parked (which is when it stared to rain) and headed toward our corrals. I of course was in the last corral. It took forever to get there because some genius decided to put some port-a-potties right along the walkway to get back to the slower corrals, despite their being facilities within the corrals. I figured with the size of our running group it would be easy to find my peeps. I figured wrong. I could not find a single person in my group. I started to panic. I e-mailed Katie who thankfully got my e-mail and found me before it was time to start. We were so far back we didn't even hear the gun go off.

Miles 1-4 were essentially flawless. I felt great, the pace felt great, it wasn't raining hard, but it was enough to keep me cool. My foot was hurting a little from the start, but it didn't get any worse as I went on, which was great. I had decided that I was just going to relax and enjoy the day, take it all in and for the most part I did just that. I also found Steve and Leah, whom I had planned on running with, and I stayed with them until past mile 12, when Leah's knee crapped out.

I started pulling back on my pace when I hit mile 5 because I knew Gilbert/Eden Park Hell were coming up. Mile 5 wasn't bad either.

Miles 6-8 were tough, but no tougher than I expected as this was by far the hilliest part of the course. I took it slow (even for me), but things were still going fine and my pace was still decent. By miles 5-6 my foot was still holding up the same, so I felt confident I would be able to finish.

I was expecting to feel some relief by mile 9, but it did not come. I was starting to tire. My legs, especially my knees, back, and neck were starting to ache.

Miles 10-13.1: pure hell. I got a (huge) blister on the bottom of my right foot, so by this point I thought I was going to die with every step. It was awful. Slowing down helped some, but it was possibly the most excruciating hour (or more--I was going really freaking slow at this point) of my life. And I was in labor for 14 hours. This was supposed to be the "good" part of the race, as it was mostly downhill. However, downhill seemed to hurt my blister even more. I stopped a couple of times to adjust my socks, but the damage had been done. "Luckily" my blister hurt so bad that I didn't notice my cuboid bone at all.

Finally, the finish line was in sight, and I was able to muster up enough strength to run across the finish line. My mom saw me cross, and Kyle's mom was right on the other side, having finished her portion of the relay. I hobbled over to get my medal, and get some snacks (Cheetos, Swiss Cake Rolls, and doughnuts--oh my!). I took my (soaked) socks and shoes off to assess the damage. The blister goes almost all the way across my foot. It hurts like a bitch to walk on. When it was all said and done I felt like I had been run over by a car.

Last night was the celebration party for our running group, which was a great time. When I told my coach about my blisters she said, "Body Glide--it will keep you from getting blisters." Um, say whaa? Why didn't someone tell me about this BEFORE the race. Oh well. I guess I can just consider them by battle scars.

Today aside from the fact that I have to hobble because of my blister, I feel pretty good. Still, I do not plan to run another half marathon anytime soon. I would say never, but given the events of the past year, I never say never anymore. Especially, when yesterday thoughts were creeping in of the "you know you could do it faster." Shut your dirty mouth, brain.

The highlights of the course for me were the Black Eyed Peas wannabes on Gilbert, seeing Elvis in Eden Park, and my most favorite the mile 10 water stop featuring the Walnut Hills football team. They made a bridge with their arms and had us all run under, and their exuberance and enthusiasm were infectious. I was feeling really shitty when I came upon them, and they were a definite bright spot.

So . . .there we are. 13.1 miles. I'm definitely proud, and I love my shiny medal.

It's the final countdown

Excuse me while I go wretch. I am freaking out. I'm afraid I have ruined my body to save my foot. Maybe "ruined" isn't the correct term, but the fact is, I feel out of shape. I missed 2 long runs and a couple of short runs, too. And after all that my foot was still sore during my 2.7 mile run last night. Still, I am going to be out there Sunday morning, and while the thought of that may cause a panic attack, it still beats the disappointment of not getting out there at all. That would probably be too much to bear.

Anyway, back to my 2.7 mile run. It felt harder than it should have, I think. And yes, I ran faster than I will be Sunday, but it definitely made me even more nervous than I already was (and I didn't think that was possible). Plus my foot started hurting, and worse than it did last week during my 4 mile run. Thankfully it doesn't hurt today, and it didn't hurt last night as bad as it didn't a couple of weeks ago.

I found a couple to run with last night, and I am going to try to stay with them Sunday. Although I have been training for 4 months, I still have essentially zero ability to pace myself. Their pace is something I can probably hang with. Plus, if I spend too much time by myself during runs, I start getting a little nutso, meaning the bad thoughts start rolling in.

Speaking of nutso, I MAY have looked up last year's results to see what the likelihood of me coming in last was. Luckily, I think I will be OK on that front, providing my foot just stops working or something. I say I don't care about my time, and I don't . . .mostly. I really just want to finish, I would just prefer to not come in last.

One thing that is easing my anxiety, at least slightly is that I am hitching a ride with Kyle's mom Sunday morning. She, stepFIL, SIL, and stepSIL are running the relay and they offered to pick me up. One less thing to worry about.

I will be glad when this is all over and I'm holding my finisher's medal in my hot little hand.

Ooh one thing I am very excited about is my running buddy (I still call her that even though she has gotten considerably faster than me recently) is going to do the Hyde Park Blast training group. Woo hoo! I am looking forward to it. I'm even hoping to get my mom out there.

The Agony of The Feet

Well, I can see my crossing of the finish line, super sweet finisher's medal, and 13.1 sticker slipping away. I think my right foot is saying "I don't want to do this half marathon." Unfortunately, I am at its mercy.

It all started 2 weeks ago, during a 10 mile run. Around mile 5, my right foot started hurting. I was able to finish the run, but it was hurting pretty darn bad when it was all said and done. It hurt to walk on it for a good 2 days after the run. Then the pain went away. I've had various aches and pains before, and they've all went away, so I just figured par for the course with this kind of mileage.

Then, last week we were supposed to run 11 miles. About a mile in my foot was killing me. I knew it was going to be a no-go, so I turned around and started hobbling back to my car (when it starts acting up, it hurts just about as much to walk as it does run). I promptly made an appointment with a primary care doctor. He took an x-ray, said it didn't look broken (and I really didn't think it was broken), told me it was a stress/overuse injury, and that he didn't think I'd be able to run the race. However, he also told me to feel free to get a podiatrist's opinion. Several people were singing the praises of this local running podiatrist, and I made an appointment for that Tuesday (this past Tuesday).

I met with the podiatrist, who told me he thinks I have a "cuboid sprain" from my 4th and 5th metatarsals hitting my cuboid bone when I run. He took out his sheet of foam, cut me out some pads, put them in my shoes, and I could instantly tell a difference. He told me to ice my foot every night for a half hour, and I could start trying to run again over the weekend. He felt optimistic I'd be able to do the race, so I felt optimistic as well.

Well, folks, the weekend is here. Yesterday I woke up to foot pain, so I didn't even try it. I iced my foot instead. This morning, my foot felt good to go, so I hit the pavement . . .and experienced basically the same thing as last weekend's attempted 11 miler. About a mile in, my foot started hurting, badly. So, that's why instead of running, I am sitting here with a bag of ice on my foot, watching my dream of running a half marathon slip away.

People keep telling me, yes there will be other races, and I suppose that's true. To be honest, though, I have no desire to train for another half marathon. I enjoy running, but I like it best within the 3-6 mile range. Beside the lack of desire, even though I knew running a half marathon wouldn't be easy, I think I underestimated the time commitment. I feel like running is was a full-time job right now. I was ready for this race to be over with, and have my life back. It was starting to feel tedious, and not fun anymore. Still, I never, ever wanted it to end like this. When I started on this journey nearly 4 months ago, I never expected not to be able to finish. To be sidelined with an injury, especially this close to the big show, is heartbreaking. I get physically ill when I think of everyone else running their race, getting their medal and sticker, feeling that sense of accomplishment. I would give just about anything to be out there with them.

Back in the game

Well, I survived the Heart Mini. It was a less than spectacular showing to say the least, but I wasn't too disappointed. I was just glad I finished, mainly because as more than one of the coaches have said "If you can finish the Heart Mini, you can finish the Pig." That makes me very hopeful.

So, last night for our short run, we were supposed to be doing a leisurely 5ish miles through Oakley (it is a little crazy that 5 miles is now our "short" run--the first time I ever ran 5 miles was mid-February and that was for a long run!). It was pretty warm, and my warm weather running gear is minimal, so I had to leave my Droid behind. I figured it wouldn't be a big deal, I could manually enter my workout into Cardio Trainer later, and I figured I could stay with someone who had a Garmin or a watch to do my intervals.

Well, we took off and I just . . .felt like running. So, run I did. I started at the back of the pack because that's where I end up anyway. I ended up being by myself for about half the run, but I could see people in front of me, so I knew what I was supposed to be doing and where I was supposed to be going. When we finished, I asked the girl who finished just in front of me what her time was. She told me 48 minutes. We ran about 4.8 miles. I was dumbfounded. It normally takes me around 56-57 minutes to run 4-4.5 miles. It's called progress. And it's just what I needed to get my head back in the training.

I've hit a wall

I'm hoping I can break through soon. It has to do with my running (or more often than not as of late, my lack thereof). I started the training group in January with my game face on, determined to kick ass. The first couple runs were nightmarish, but once I got in with the right group, things kept looking up, up, up. I was out there in zero degree temperatures, braving the ice and snow, doing my thing. Of course, back then we were running 3, 4, 5 miles at a time.

Now we're entering the big leagues of half marathon training and the weather is actually getting decent (mostly). I'm doing 9.3 (hilly, hellish) miles on Sunday. And I am dreading it. I've been missing my short runs, because something will happen on Tuesday nights, and then I won't want to go on Wednesdays. I'm not a fan of running with the Kentucky group--they're nice, but they are a very small group and fast and I'm always terrified I will get lost. Kind of like what happened when I had to do the Sunday option run this past Sunday. There were no other slow people so I was all by myself, which was fine at first. I had my iPod and my Droid. Then I got to Eden Park, which I've only ran through a couple of times, and never by myself. The route said to just "run through the park (minus the overlook) and exit onto Victory Parkway." Well I exited, but not onto Victory Parkway. In fact, I ended up having to walk up about 50 steps to get up onto Victory Parkway. By then my rhythm was gone. Thank God for my Droid or I'd probably still be wandering around Eden Park. I finished, but I ended up walking quite a bit. It was a crappy run.

I feel like all my longer runs have been crappy. The 10K went fine, but any distance after that has been a nightmare, and that scares me. I was SPENT after that race. I definitely wasn't like hey, let's go run 3 more miles. Then I start beating myself up. I think it's becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy at this point. I'm starting to be all WTF was I thinking. I need to get out of this funk and get re-focused, but I just don't know how.

I'm hoping the Heart Mini isn't a complete freaking disaster, because I'm worried if it is I will be retiring my running shoes.

Good Vibrations

. . is the best running song EVER. It gets me through my long run every time. 5K here I come!