Apparently when I complain about work, the universe feels the need to show me it’s not all bad.  So thank you for the barrage of nice customers after the real housebrat came in today!  One man asked about my running and was genuinely interested and another offered to treat the store to lunch for being so nice.  I guess I got what I deserved, but in a really nice way!

For the first time, I felt that the 3M half marathon was a successful endeavor.  This is my fourth year and I’m finally happy with the results (1:48:28!) and the race in general.  I think part of the problem is that I buy into the hype and the magic of a downhill race.  Previously my expectations were out of sync with reality which lead to unnecessary disappointment.

It started out with a good night’s sleep and waking up easily to the alarm at 5 am.  Since I’m a night owl, I firmly believe nothing good happens at five o’clock in the morning.  (Parents might tell you it’s ten, but you can go to a movie, bowl, or get pancakes at Kerbey at that time.  The only people who are at Kerbey at five are people who partyed all night.  And those folks are not good role models.  And, honestly, Kerbey Lane’s pretty nasty too.)  But I got up, fell out of bed, ate breakfast, we walked the dogs and away we went.

Once we arrived, I had to find a bathroom per my usual routine.  This caused a delay in my start time since I was entering the porta-loo at the same time the race was starting.  However, I saw my friends Kat and Justin which made the delay well worth it.  They are both wonderful people and I walked to the start line with Kat.  She’s the type of person who’s just nice being around so I started the race with a smile and a warm feeling.

I had two “oh no!” moments at the beginning of the race: I forgot to turn my Garmin on until mile one and my earphones were not working properly.  My music turned into Muzak which made me laugh so I became okay with the situation.  It was like running in a grocery store circa 1992.  Also, I thought to myself I can either keep the smile Kat gave me or erase it by being a grouch.

Since I started the race at the back, I had a lot of catching up to do!  I cruised from the start to mile three with no problems and saw the 2:10 pace group.  By mile four/five, I found the 2:05.  After that,  my friend Francesca waved and said hello.  I was happy to see she was on pace to have a good race since she had been ill.  Hooray, she might hit 2 hours!  There was a woman wearing a Goofy Challenge shirt group right before the 2:00 pace group.  I made sure I complimented her on her achievement.  She said she did the 5k along with the half marathon and marathon.  Say what?  That was motivation for me to scoot!  (Aside: Ms. Goofy Challenge, I don’t know you, but I’m proud of you!  That is an awesome accomplishment!)

Miles five, six and seven flew by.  This was a change for me since I normally have to bribe myself to get to the half way point.  I suppose if you don’t spend the first few miles thinking about how much running sucks and racing sucks and how you don’t ever want to get out of bed before six again, there’s more of an opportunity to have a good time.

At mile eight, I stopped for some Gatorade since I’m a sucker for sweet treats.  Also, the Gatorade had been my motivation to keep moving since mile six.   There was a small freak out moment when my legs didn’t want to cooperate after my pit stop, but luckily there was another hill to get me moving again. 

Around mile nine I found the 1:55 group and thought that I could just coast with them to the end.  I would have my PR, but I wouldn’t have my goal so I had to give myself a pep talk.  Also, I started to think if I passed them that I would crash and burn and they would end up passing me in the end.  But about that time there was another water/Gatorade station so I was able to hydrate and sugar up.  They passed me at the stop, but I leapfrogged them after a quarter-mile.   After I passed them, I made peace with myself that I was good enough to keep going at my chosen speed, not theirs.

Mile ten was tough for me.  I saw a local runner who I consider to be a better runner than myself.  When I passed him, I had several moments of doubt.  I started to think “Who do I think I am by passing this guy?  I’m not fast enough and this pace is going to wreck me.”  So it was time for another pep talk and I made myself get my ass in gear.  I reminded myself that there was only a 5k left.  Of course, a small voice in my head reminded me that I hate 5ks. 

However, mile eleven was golden.  My head was up, shoulders back, and there was a water/Gatorade stop.  I was stepping lightly and pretty happy with life at that point.  I was in the “flow.”  Hooray for running and what could for wrong?  I’m almost there!

But mile twelve was heartache.  The first half was hard, but the pace was good.  I kept negotiating with myself to keep moving and that it would be done soon.  For the first time, I started to check my Garmin every few moments.  And I’m not a Garmin checker at all.  The pace was good, but I felt like hell.  At mile 12.5 the pace fell off and it was like the race was never-ending.  I finally hit MLK and I was never so happy to see the capital.  I would like to say I had a kick at the end, but I was done.  There was a little added speed, but not much.

Overall, I was extremely happy with my time and the time I had at the race.  I realized that part of the allure of going quicker is the satisfaction of the miles going by faster.  Also, I dumped a lot of the negative thinking which really weighs me down in the beginning.  This was done by focusing on the positives (Kat, Francesca and Ms. Goofy) as opposed to thinking about some of the people who create friction in my head or the general anxiety of being there. 

However, I am wrecked now and slowly recovering from this morning.  I think it was in part to not being properly hydrated and racing causes a high level of anxiety.  My stomach has not quite recovered.  But I will not allow a little soreness and a temporary stomach problem detract from the day.  Also, my stomach problems might stem from the awesome brunch at Opals and the victory margarita.  Not the food, of course, but the timing of the food and the booze.  But it was well worth it!  Mmmm, mmm, margarita!

Yesterday le homme and I went to Jack and Adam’s to look at a bike for me.  Today that was all I could think about.

But when I daydream about cycling, I think about a little sassy fox lady and the green lantern duking it out in an ally way.

My new goal is to do a half Ironman triathlon along my original goal of six half marathons in six months.  The original goal is an easily obtainable goal if I’m willing to travel.  I can run a half marathon on any given day provided I don’t care too much about the time.  So my reasoning is that a half Ironman is a natural extension of that goal.  My only concerns are the swimming part, other bikes and cars.  Other than those issues, I’m sure I’ll be fine.

My hope with the bike is that it will offer well needed cross training since I’m injury prone.  Now my hip hurts on the opposite leg.  What the hell?  Thankfully, I see Mr. R on Thursday so he can help (hurt) me.  I guess I will be slathering J. R. Watkins on my ass until the appointment.

Hooray for new shoes and a roller/massage stick!

I recently bought a new pair of running shoes that fit perfectly, Brooks Pure Project Flow. 

When the Pure Project was advertised, I thought to myself: I will not buy into the hype.  I do not need another pair of running shoes.  I know now that it was wrong of me to think that way as I did need another pair of running shoes. 

My last several pairs of shoes have been the Brooks Launch which sometimes (often) results in calf pain since the shoe is neutral and my stride is not.  I’ve had every pair of shoe that were supposedly lighter, but had some posting.  The problem was that they all sucked.  Yep, I said it: they sucked.  The suggested shoes felt like I was wearing weighted kleenex boxes.  While I was in Seattle, my gait was analyzed and was told that I pronate with my left leg.  I think I irritated the Brooks guy because I said that I already knew that.  But he was already a little annoyed because he had smug fast guy attitude and I’m stupid on a treadmill.  He asked why I wore the Launch knowing what I knew and told me to wear them only for racing.  I told him I didn’t like heavy shoes and he looked aggrieved to which I accidentally gave him that ”why did I even bother with you, smug fast guy?”  look.   This he took as a challenge, thought a moment and suggested the Racer ST 5. 

It took me a month or so to actually buy the Racers since the guy annoyed me and I thought he was an ass.  But at this point, my calf was bothering me and I knew my shoes were partly to blame.  I knew if I went to a running store that they would fit me to a heavier shoe and I would waste money on a pair I wouldn’t like.  In theory, the Racers would be perfect since they were light and had posting for guidance so I placed my order.  I suppose it was a lesson in faith.  When I wore them for the first time I knew they were almost perfect. There were two unfortunate things about the Racers: they stretched so I had to buy a second pair a half-size smaller and they cause the biggest blisters on the arch of my foot regardless of the size.  Also, they are a little light for longer runs.

After a few weeks of fighting the temptation to buy new shoes, I broke down and bought a pair.  In short, I love my new shoes since they are light, have some guidance, but they don’t rub and cause a two-inch blister.  What a happy combination!  I still wear my Racers for shorter runs, but I do love my new kicks.

Training Log:

Holy cats! 

I went out for a five-mile run this evening with le homme. At first I was excited and bouncing off the walls due to amount of coke I had during dinner at Which Wich.  The beginning of autumn arrived so the temperatures are more reasonable.  Also, I love to run in the dark.  Twilight is my favorite time to run, but I’m kind of a ‘fraidy cat so I only go with another person or Blaze.  

Tonight started off great and I was running with a minimum of effort.  This is in itself is a feat since running is not natural for me.  However, this “run happy” moment was fleeting.  After we climbed a hill at mile one, my dinner started to sit heavy with me.  At a mile and half it was almost unbearable.  We actually had to stop at Southwestern University so that I could dispose of it. 

I was hoping to recapture the feeling from the beginning of the run because I was obviously lighter, but no dice.  My legs felt heavy and my feet were not moving easily since I was out of fuel. 

Note to self: caprese sandwich will mess me up before a run.  It’s probably the pesto.  If I knew it was going to make me sick, I would have opted for Tarka.  Malai kofta is well worth the spicy misery it causes during a run. 

Personal log:

Yesterday I went to Kohl’s and bought bedding.  Let me begin by saying Kohl’s freaks me out a bit since I feel like I’m scamming them.

Here is my new bedset:

(Yep, that’s a tiny picture of it.  Effen Kohl’s for not letting me hijack a proper size picture.)

Anyway, I was thrilled about the new bedding and was hoping that le homme would take part in the excitement.  He was happy about it, but it didn’t jazz him up to the same level I was.  One of the things that revved my girlie side was the price.  I bought everything in that tiny picture plus a black king size coverlet for $130.  The bed is a queen, but king size coverlet fits that bad girl so much better.

Today I worked with my brother and told him about my cool new bedroom set.  His reaction was similar to le homme which is understandable since he’s a man and this doesn’t effect him at all.  However, he felt the bedding was an opportunity to argue his case that I should date the actress from Fringe.

“You know who would be excited that you bought new bedding?  Astrid.  From Fringe.”

“I’m not a lesbian.”

“But for Astrid, could you?  She’s really cute and she would be the best Christmas present you could bring home.”

“No.”

“She would be excited about the bedding and would show you all the cool things she drew.  She’s a cartoonist.”

“No, I’m not a lesbian.”

Sigh.  “I know you’re not one, but for Astrid, I think you could.”

God Says Yes To Me

I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic
and she said yes
I asked her if it was okay to be short
and she said it sure is
I asked her if I could wear nail polish
or not wear nail polish
and she said honey
she calls me that sometimes
she said you can do just exactly
what you want to
Thanks God I said
And is it even okay if I don’t paragraph
my letters
Sweetcakes God said
who knows where she picked that up
what I’m telling you is
Yes Yes Yes

*Kaylin Haught, The Palm of your Hand, Tilbury House Publishers, 1995

Although I’m extremely tired tonight and not feeling on the up and up, I made a promise to myself to write in my blog every night.  I feel like I’m cheating a bit (a lot) by sharing this poem.

But it is the best poem I’ve encountered.  And the best way to embrace life.

Unless you’re a sociopath.

I’ve begun training again for the fall.  Sigh, it’s 105 in the heat of the day with no relief in sight.  But I have a goal, a mission if you please: to run under 1:50 for a half marathon.  Right now I’m five (four and 10 seconds) away from this goal.  Every time I get close, my left calf begins to hurt.  I ran the Dallas Rock and Roll Half Marathon and had a lovely time,  but the training I did before aggravated that injury. 

Yet again this was my goal at the Seattle Rock and Roll Half Marathon.  Three weeks before the race, my calf began to have a nipping pain.  Even though I tapered, that darn calf bothered me again.  However,  I wasn’t too upset because I still had a good time despite being in pain, saw my cousin, and was in Seattle with le homme. Also, the food was divine.  And I wore a light jacket in June.

I was dealing with the calf pain just fine until it  began to snake itself upwards to the outer IT band.  This  prompted me call the local miracle worker: Mister R, a sports massage therapist.  There are quite a few reasons I like Mr. R .  He’s friendly and knowledgeable.  He knew I had broken my ankle without telling him.  Because of one visit,  I can now feel this one particular spot on the bottom of my foot.   Previously it had oscillated from numb to tingly depending on the day of the week.  He spends the entire hour with me.  He doesn’t make me roll out.  The list could go on and on, but there’s one problem with him.  I pay him to hurt me.  Seriously, this is no mamby pamby wussy massage.  He really gets in there and works all the kinks out.  People will tell you it’s painful, but it’s one of those things you have to experience for yourself to appreciate the pain.

Now I’m working my way back up to the mileage I had previous to my calf pain (and before that anterior shin splints, and before that sore ankles). I’m more optimistic about the progress I’m making since the foundation is stronger.  Apparently, as per Mr. R., most my issues stemmed from breaking my ankle four years ago and that it was not rehabed correctly (at all) after it healed. 

The last few weeks have been “lazy” weeks with relatively low mileage, but I do feel better.  No more “sad” face on dailymile for me.  But I suppose that means it’s time to get serious again.