Up to $740! Thanks everyone!

Thanks so much to the following folks who've put me past the 40 percent mark on my goal!

Lionel Miles

Donna Carberry

Eugenia Elliott

Laura Anderson

Sean Donovan
Kathy Kirby

Jon Pattee

Laurel Boger

Thomas Valenti

Different Worlds

Yesterday, was the first of two 20 mile training runs. Typically, this is the longest run you have before the marathon. Some training programs will only have one 20 miler but we have two. This is mainly due to to having a number of overachievers in my group looking for qualifying times for Boston. Their running goals are a far cry from mine. As runners, we are in different worlds but a schedule is a schedule. 6- minute milers and 15-minute milers alike have to log their pre-marathon twenty.

This distance is supposed to prep you for marathon conditions. In many ways, it is very much like a marathon just without medals or cheering. You get bored, break down, hit walls, stop for snacks, go to the bathroom, talk about food and ,sometimes, get religion.

My running partner and I decided to make an 5:00 AM start which would put us an hour ahead of the group. This meant my day began at 3:45. I got up, had my power bar and a swallow of espresso before grabbing my bag of supplies and heading out into the darkness.

Salt!
We ended up scoring a lucky parking spot right in front of the start marker so, after a discussion about safety, we decided to take off onto moonlit path. We had over an hour of lonely work interrupted only by the occasional sight of the rare runner or cyclist. The full moon, dominating the city skyline to the west of the path, was a beautiful but unsettling reminder that we were somehow trespassers on the wrong side of day. I was more than a little ghost-story-scared. Shadow-jumping-scared. I-don't-like-the-look-of-that-biker-scared.

And then, shortly after the 6 mile mark, the sky puffed out a little pink haze in the east. By the time we made it to the 8 mile water station, the sun was pulling itself into a cloud hanging over a misty Lake Michigan. Buildings were interwoven with fog and shimmering haze. But it was light. It felt as if we had run straight from a nightmare into the dawn. For a good 2 miles, I was giddy. I still had 2 packets of GU,6 packs of salt and was halfway through the big run. The fear and darkness were quite literally several miles behind us. We were in a different world.

Gu!

What they don't tell you

Sweat is kind of a big deal in running. But it makes trouble. It wets your socks, clothes, and skin. You are pounding down the streets, grinding skin, clothes and sweat all over the place. Salt tidal patterns form on your arms and legs. You chafe. Blister. Bleed.

My favorite running shirt has the phrase "Toenails are for wimps" on it. We runners like to talk tough about things like toenail loss. Losing the toenail isn't half as bad as the pain which PRECEDES it. By the time the toenail actually falls off you are well rid of it.

Sometimes, in spite of avoiding cotton socks, greasing up your hooves and wearing the right shoes, you get the inevitable blood blister. Saving the toenail is only an option if you decide to drill a needle through the nail to release the pressure. Yeah, a little bit medieval, ain't it? I'm pretty lucky really. I may even be able to keep this one. Or part of it.

October 12th I'm getting a pedicure.

Thank you! Pledges so far.....$490!

I'm just a below average runner but my fundraising skills are the WORST! Thanks so much for the following people who have pledged so far. I have done very little in the way of parties, bake sales, company solicitations. Just a few random tweets and facebook page posts. These folks are making me look like less of a slacker:
Donna Carberry
Eugenia Elliott
Laura Anderson
Sean Donovan
Kathy Kirby
Jon Pattee
Laurel Boger

http://www.cff.org/LWC/dsp_DonationPage.cfm?idEvent=10556&idUser=321431

You know you've lost perspective when

Ran an "easy ten" yesterday. Yup. An easy ten. Different world, folks. Different world.

In walks vanity

You wouldn't think it to look at me. I certainly don't have the workout obsessed form of a gym rat. Nor do I have a runner's legs, butt or, let's face it, grace. But my vanity has been and will be a great source of motivation for me as a runner. What inspires me is not my better self or angel on my shoulder. It's more of a chip. A sulky, sullen, chubby, chip that never matured past the age of 12. A salt and vinegar chip.

vanity

speeds me up when the 70 year old jogger tries to pass.

reminds me to lube every possible friction point so I can brag about lack of chafing.

makes me smile as if I could do this ALL day at mile 14.

likes me to crack wise with other runners as if I were a salty old veteran.

shames me into completing runs on days when I feel fat, bloated, and old.

is that small voice saying "you will not look like a quitter today even if you are all quitter inside"

Where would I be without it?

I'd had a rough day. I was feeling pretty ragged, crampy, drained. The weather was moody and the path was muddy. I'd spent the past 24 hours bursting into dry, heaving, sobs. My mood was foul and roasted before I even got to the running path. I was looking for an out.

As I began the 6 miles, I noticed the police car parked on the sidewalk just beside the path. (This is a popular perch for police vehicles. Nice view of the lakefront but nothing really happening in the way of, you know, crime. ) I passed the car and plodded on for another 30 yards or so before I just stopped. Bent over. Made a dramatic show of holding my side as if in a painful cramp. Then, I turned around and began my slow, agonizing-for-the-cameras-please, limp back to the car. I figured I'd sold the whole mysterious running injury story arc.

You see, my vanity just knew those cops were watching. And laughing.

"Here comes the failed, flabby, old, clearly-not-athletic jogger. I told ya she wouldn't last 50 yards!"
I never even made it as far as the cop perch before the the salt and vinegar kicked in. Damnit.

I turned around. I started running. Damn cops! Making deals with myself that I only had to put a little show on to prove that I wasn't just a poser. Just a 4 mile, keep-my-dignity run. I made it out to the 2 mile turn and decided to keep going. After all, how could I even bother blogging about a failed 6 miles?

And by the time I hit the the 3 mile mark, the excuses were no longer needed. The mist had been rolling in on the lakefront and the breeze had picked up. I wouldn't say there was a whiff of Autumn in the air but I was feeling a shift nonetheless. All the crap that had been in me. The terrible day. Cramps, tears, doubts, all gone. I was alone on the lakefront and the waves were splashing up over the rocks. And I was a runner again.
Thanks vanity.

My trainer recommends Sauvignon Blanc

Sometimes, just like when you're dieting, you need a little cheat day. Guess what? Erm, yeah. A little day away from running. I mean, it's raining. It's track day. I DON'T run indoors. I had a really tough Monday workout. I'm old. My cats need watering. I would like a nite out with a friend and a glass of wine. I work hard.

Yep, I'm your running priestess. I will offer you absolution if you need a day off.

Take it and kick ass tomorrow!

Pass/Fail

Whenever I talk to someone who is considering taking up running, the concern most expressed is that there is some sort of pass/fail. That they won't be able to finish. This seems to go for any distance.

"Wow, a marathon? I can't even run a mile!"

"Wow, a 5k? I can't even run a city block!"

Guess what? There was a time when I couldn't run a mile either. Now, I've run 2 marathons, several half-marathons and an untold number of smaller distance races. And they all start at the same place. Just a series of starts and finishes with water stops in between. No matter the race, it's all about getting to the start line, facing the right direction and connecting the dots 'til you finish.

I don't mean to diminish the process. Distance running isn't easy but, when explaining it to a non-runner, the only words they hear are "twenty-six miles". All at once. Pass/Fail.

The number one response to the statement, " I ran the marathon" is, "Did you finish?" Sensing a trend here? I either finished it or I didn't. Why else would I possibly want to do it again? When I mention this question to other marathoners I get a wide range of snorts and scoffs. "Non-runners, just don't get it" is the general consensus.

What the non-runner seems to be missing is all the little dots in between. Every week, I get stronger in the mid-week workouts. Every weekend, I add on a few miles more than I did the week before. I reach another water stop, connect another dot. Over the next 4 weeks, I'll have two 20 mile training runs. These runs may not both go well but it would never occur to me that I might not finish them. My summer has been spent drawing a connection from the start line in June to the finish line in October. Some of the lines haven't been so smooth. (I'm really gonna miss that toenail, for example.) Some days I feel like I want to shoot myself in the feet.

But I'll finish.

I began this marathon in June and I'll finish it in October. Perhaps I'll meet some of my personal goals on that particular day but, for now, on Saturday morning, I'm knitting another set of dots together. And I'm planning on finishing, if you're curious.

Here's to the 18 miler!

http://dailyviews.runnersworld.com/2009/08/has-training-become-too-scientific.html?cm_mmc=social-_-twitter-_-2009_08_19-_-RW%20DAILY%20CAVEMAN

http://dailyviews.runnersworld.com/2009/08/has-training-become-too-scientific.html?cm_mmc=social-_-twitter-_-2009_08_19-_-RW%20DAILY%20CAVEMAN

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Thursday's run was full of grace

Up at 5am. Have coffee and wait for a little daylight to show. Head down to the lakefront just before 6. Take off the watch 'cause today no one is timing you. Look at the sunrise.

Run.


This, I like.

W, As in Speed Workouts

Running is not a team sport. Even when training within a team, your path is a personal one. This is the third time I've trained with a team to run the marathon. While I do recommend team training for anyone who is working toward their first endurance sport event, there is something you need to know about this whole team concept. You would probably never be friends with these folks in any other circumstance but, for 4 months, they share intimacies even your lover/wife/husband/dog won't grasp.

I've no qualms discussing surgery, intestinal distress, menstruation, the benefits of shaving, nipple chafing and toenail loss with any member of my group. Believe me, they've shared the same with me. I know, for example, that one of my coaches shaves his legs just because he "like the way they feel". He also really feels he has weak hips and unattractive legs. Yes, he's straight.

With all of this sharing, one would think it would be easy to talk about the doubt. I'm full of it. I get nauseated Tuesday night when I realize that track training is only a day away. I start to remind myself of how much I am NOT a REAL RUNNER. I mean, just LOOK at me. Track/speed workouts, according to the running gurus, are a vital component to marathon training. They are supposed to build endurance and confidence.

I really DO believe in them.

But, I'm the slowest, oldest, fattest runner in the group.(Yes, I say this every week, as part of my motivational mantra. Slowest. Oldest. Fattest. Go. Team. ) I hate them.

4 more hours til track. 2 (3200 meter repeats) with 6 minutes of rest in between. 4 miles total. I'll finish each interval later than everyone else. And there will be no chardonnay.
Running is not a team sport.

It's as good a day as any to avoid the tempo run.

What I'm doing right at the moment, is NOT participating in my group tempo run. I'm just sitting in the dark cubby cave of my apartment, awaiting the UPS driver. (This was not the planned workout and I'm pretty sure the 15 crunches I may, or may not, do won't make up for the missing 7 miles.) He is "in transit" and he's got my new shoes. I just can't face another run in the old ones. I love that they're biodegradable but I fear that are decomposing whilst I wear them. The sides are split and pebbles are climbing into the gaps. It's all just a fancy excuse though. If I were a badass, I would run in them anyway.

Sometimes, I AM a bad-ass. One year, I ran a half marathon with the top of my shoe cut away because I couldn't stand the pressure on my bruised toe. Bad-ass then. Today, sitter-in -the -dark-ass. I'm looking over at the Merlot and thinking about having a wee motivational chat with it. Come on, driver! I'm caving in my cubby!