That time I went to a group run... and finished almost last

I love to run. I do. Yet, I haven't been running. I really have no reason for it. I could make the time. I could use the jogging stroller at take Bailey with me. I could go before the Hubs leaves for work (ya know-- at 5am). I could go after B goes to sleep. I could make it work. I really know I could. I just haven't. 

And, I just haven't because I just haven't WANTED to. I'm still working out-- home DVDs & walks. I'm enjoying that. Running hasn't sounded FUN. I LOVE to run. I'm not going to do it if it doesn't sound fun. Why force it? I know the fun will come back. Probably not til fall when this blasted heat is over, but it'll come back.

Ok, ok. I admit it. I also haven't felt like running because I kinda suck at running right now. I'm WAY outta running shape. When I run, I'm slow (for me). When I run, I huff and puff like a chain smoker. When I run, I am reminded over and over again that I am not where I was before I had Bailey. I mean-- duh, but I can kinda blissfully ignore it most other times.

So, I'm not really running right now.

But, I kinda want to. I feel the itch SLOOOOOLY coming back. SLOWLY. Like, "meeeeh- running doesn't sound terrible today so maybe I'll do it tomorrow... maybe" kinda slow. I'd prefer not to be 1000000% out of running shape (the 100% out of it I am now is plenty) when that "I WANNA RUN RIGHT NOW AND ALL THE TIME RUN RUN RUN RUN RUUUUUUN" feeling does come back. I'd like to maintain a "5-miles is easy" kinda stamina.

But, I'm not there. So, for the record, what I'm saying is before I want to start running again, I need to start running again. Makes perfect sense, right?

I do not presently have that sought after 5-mile base, as I quickly learned last week when I went to a local running stores group fun run they do all summer every Thursday evening in hopes of starting to SLOWLY start running before starting running again (again- makes perfect sense) and in hopes to meet some new people in our new town and make some FRIENDS. Anyway- I heard about these via Facebook (where else?) a while ago, but we were busy each Thursday night til this week so, I  had no excuse and told myself I was going!

I got everything ready. I talked to the Hubs and figured out our Bailey plan. He'd cover B duty (random side note: I HAAAAATE when people say the father is "babysitting". Dude. He's the DAD. He's not babysitting. He's dad-ing. End of story.). I'd nurse her before I left, be gone about an hour and though it was putting her bedtime back a few minutes, I'd be back in time to nurse her before bed. I was good to go.

So, of course, then the panic set it.

Amy talked me off the ledge and told me to shut the F up and go. Good advice and exactly what I needed to hear.

I mean- could I even RUN 3 miles? In the crazy heat, btw? Yes, I ran a half a couple weeks ago. But, we ran/walked and when running ran slow. And, it was in the morning. I'm a morning runner. This fun run was at night. I'm not a night runner. And, I'm outta running shape. And my bum/upper leg was really sore (thank you very much curtsey lunges). And, and, and. All the and's the in the world.

But, I went.

Pre-run... very unsure of how this whole RUNNING thing was gonna go.

I had mixed feelings. Part of me was sure I wouldn't even get out of the car. Part of me thought I'd freaking rock it and make a bunch of new running friends and it would be a breeze. Part of me thought I'd come in last and not even talk to anyone.

Sadly, the later is the closest to reality. NO ONE talked to me. No one. And, ok- I didn't talk to anyone either, but everyone seemed to know each other. I stood alone like a total weirdo. That pretty much sucked, I won't lie. Then, the run started and I quickly realized as the humidity starting taking a BEATING on my lungs just how outta shape I was. I struggled to maintain a 9:50ish pace. STRUGGLED.

Apparently it was a little shy of 3 miles (though I did go straight to my car instead of to the door b/c I was in a hurry to get home to nurse Bailey). Pace is a little deceiving as we stopped for a light/cross walk for OVER A MINUTE (slowest freaking light evvver) and for 3 other lights. I'd guess I maintained about a 9:50-10:00 pace. 

The front of the pack seemed to be keeping an easy-to-them 8ish pace. I couldn't help but remember and long for the days when I would have been stride for stride by them. Those days are not today. I was in the back.of.the.pack. Ok, I admit it- not the last person, but in the last couple. No exaggeration.

So, I made no new friends and I was slow and dying. In total honestly, it kinda blew all around. Not the grand return to the sport I love I had in my mind. And.... so what? Of course it wasn't going to be fun. I'm outta shape! It's gonna take WORK to get back, if I ever get back to where I was (which was never even close to great to start with, hello mediocre runner Meagan!). And, if I wanna meet people and make friends, I might actually have to initiate a conversation. As scary as that is.

So, I'm not gonna give up. I don't know if I'll be able to make every Thursday run all summer, but I do know I'm going again this week. And, I'm signing up for a local 5-mile run. I'm not saying I'm diving back into running.... errr.... not even a little. This is still running-before-starting-to-get-back-to-running mode. My goal is to get to that comfy 5-mile base-- not to be in half marathon PR shape. Baby steps. I'm ready for that small step which, for the record, feels like a pretty giant leap right now and still scares the shit out of me. It won't be easy. But, I'm kinda excited to challenge myself again. Let's do this.

The Run That Wasn't

I had every intention of running yesterday during my lunch hour.

Sunday night I carefully packed my gym back and actually remembered socks and a sport bra. That's a big deal, people.

Monday morning I was excited as I remembered I had no meetings around lunch and could get to the gym for a good run.

At 11:30am, I walked out of my office and over to the gym. I changed and grabbed my iPhone and headphones. I walked up to the track.

And immediately I did NOT want to run. Simple as that. I just was NOT feeling it.

I tried anyway. I started slowly running jogging around the track. I told myself "you'll feel like it after a lap or two". 1 lap later, still over it. 2 laps. 3 laps. 4 laps. 5 laps. Nope. Still over it. My legs felt heavy (which they shouldn't as my last run or workout was last Thursday). And I just did NOT want to be running.

So, I walked a lap hoping to find the motivation that was still eluding me. Nope. No where to be found.

I tried telling myself if I did speed work maybe I'd be less bored and get into it. So, I sprinted a lap (it's an 1/8 mile indoor track) and then speed-walked a lap. 1 round of it and I was still not feeling it. Round 2, 3, and 4. No better.

So, I called it. I just was NOT feeling it. After 2.5-ish miles if I was still not feeling it, I decided it was just better to stop and call it a day. Some runs aren't magical and rainbows. Some runs just aren't period. Yesterday's run just wasn't.

And that's OK.

Return to Speedwork

Today, Yasso 800's returned to my life.

1 mile warm up on indoor track.

800 on treadmill in 4:30.

1/2 mile recovery on indoor track.

800 on treadmill in 4:20.

1/2 mile recovery on indoor track.

800 on treadmill in 4:10.

1/2 mile recovery on indoor track.

800 on treadmill in 3:59.

1/2 mile recovery on indoor track.

5 miles. Hurt so good. And so bad. Wowza. Getting back in "shape" (if you could call what I was before "in shape") blows. A lot.

I admit it: I kinda hate being so much slower than I was before. I've never, ever been FAST and I never will be. I'm OK with that. I'm not Boston material. That's OK. But, I could hold a upper 8:something pace decently easy before I got pregnant. Now... a 9:00 mile is like a SPRINT. I was PANTING embarrassingly loud during those 800's. Like, REALLY, REALLY loud. If I was running next to someone breathing as heavy as I was I would have been worried about them. I hated being passed on the track by people (even if I was running slow on purpose for recovery). I felt judged by people. In my head, they're thinking "Oh my goodness! What is that girl doing? Why bother running if you're running that slow. I mean. It's not even running. It's hardly even jogging. And, LISTEN to how out of breath she is! Is she even OK? Should we call someone?" Of course, I KNOW (somewhere in my head) this is crazy talk and no one even notices me, just like I don't notice anyone else's workout. Still. I hate that a workout that used to be FUN and, while hard, not OMG-I'M-DYING hard.

But.

But, I didn't give up. I didn't stop. I pushed. HARD. I pushed out of my comfort zone. I pushed harder than I thought I could go.

And for that, I'm proud and enjoying a nice runner's high.

And, M&M's.

I'm enjoying a runner's high and M&M's. That's about right.

I HATE RUNNING (even when I love running)

Sometimes, running is marvelous. The stars align. The temperature is perfect. There are rainbows and unicorns and glitter and cupcakes. A "quick" pace feels easy. Legs feel fresh. All is right with the world.

Sunday, I had one of these runs. Remember? 12 glorious miles. 12 makes-me-remember-why-I-love-to-run miles. Those runs are great. Perfect. Runner's high inducing.

Not every run is like that.

Some runs BLOW. Simple as that.

Yesterday was one of those runs.

I started the day with Signature Strength, which I already bitched about. What I didn't mention was that despite the TERRIBLY annoying instructor, I actually did get quite a workout in. We did a shit ton (a very scientific measurement, I know) of squats and lunges and TONS of inner and outer thigh work. GREAT for muscles. BAD for later running plans.

Anyway, I also mentioned that my shins were just SO sore after Sunday's glorious run. I haven't had sore shins in a while. I'd forgotten what they feel like. I've been so focused on my little whiny bitch of a right knee, my shins were the last of my concern. Whoops. Never underestimate the possibility that NUMEROUS of your body parts might be  little whiny bitches at the same time.

So, I skipped my normal post morning class 2 mile quick treadmill run because my legs were just trashed from class and my shins were still SO MAD.

I decided I'd be somehow magically healed and good as new by lunch.

I WAS WRONG.

Noon rolled around and I was giddy with excitement to get out there and run with my new shoes.

I laced em up, realized I didn't pack a sports bra (FAIL. BIG, big FAIL. Have you ever tried to run with a regular bra? I should've known it was going to be a disaster.), powered on the Garmin and hit the road. Less than 10 steps in and I was already counting down the distance. Making deals with myself about how far I had to go. Debating stopping right then. HATING the run. Hating RUNNING. My internal convo went a little like this:

-OMG, this sucks.
-How long have I been running?
-.4 miles???? That's it?!?!?! WTF??
-Right foot, left foot. Just focus on 1 step at a time. Ignore the pain.
-Ok, I know you wanted to go 5 miles. Let's just do 1, then turn around. 2 total. Max.
-THIS SUUUUUCKS.
-Why do my shins hurt SO bad?
-Right foot, left foot. Just focus on 1 step at a time. Ignore the pain.
-Does my knee hurt again?
-SHINS... HURT
-How far have I been now?
-Right foot, left foot. Just focus on 1 step at a time. Ignore the pain.
-OMG! AM I REALLY RUNNING A 10:30 MILE??
-And, it's only been .6 miles?!?!?! HOOOOOOW????
-Ok, just 1.5 miles out, then back. Come on. You can do it.
-THIS BLOWS.
-I HATE RUNNING.
-Right foot, left foot. Just focus on 1 step at a time. Ignore the pain.
-Turn around. Just turn around.
-No, don't turn around yet. You'll regret it. Stick it out.
-But, everything hurts!
-SO WHAT? It will make you a stronger runner.
-Ahhhhh!!!! THIS SUUUUUUCKS. Come on!!!
-Right foot, left foot. Just focus on 1 step at a time. Ignore the pain.
-ONLY 2 miles in???
-Ok, definitely turn around. You gave it a good effort.
-Right foot, left foot. Just focus on 1 step at a time. Ignore the pain.
-Deal. 2 miles out, 2 miles back in. 4 miles total. You tried.
-YOU SUCK FOR GIVING UP.
-How long now? Only 2.3 miles??? OMG.
-I HATE RUNNING.

(source)

I think you get the point, no?

I managed to BARELY squeeze 4.2 miles out.

4.2 of my slowest miles in a long time (not including the marathon, of course).

4.2 hard, shitty, painful miles. 4.2 miles where I HATED every step. Where running SUCKED and I just did not want to do it. 4.2 miles where NOTHING positive went through my mind. 4.2 miles where I legit counted down the seconds til I could be done.

But, I did do 4.2 miles.

Did I finish the 5 miles I set out to do? No.

Do I think I made a good choice "toughing it out"? NO. You know that whole "No one ever regrets a workout" phrase?

(source)

Horseshit. I regret that workout. My shins are STILL screaming. Louder than they have in a LOOOONG time. For what? For 4.2 stupid miles? I honestly, honestly think I would have been better off listening to my body and just giving it the break it was asking for.

Moral of the incredibly long, boring story?

1. Some runs just SUCK. Not every run can be great. The shitty runs make us grateful for the amazing runs. Gotta take the good with the bad. One bad run is not indicative of your entire running "career", nor is it a sign you SUCK or anything in between. Breathe. Bad runs happen to everyone, just like good runs do.

 

2. If your body and mind is SCREAMING "NOOOOOO!!!!" (& assuming you're not doing this all the time and that it's not a key training session to a major race)-- LISTEN. No one is superman. Sometimes, just LISTEN to yourself. It knows best. YOU know best. Stop being a pig headed egomaniac and just REST if everything is telling you to. The world will be OK. YOU will be OK.

 

3. It's ok to hate running sometimes. It doesn't mean you REALLY hate running. I LOVE running and yet there are days and runs that make me HATE running. It's ok. The I LOVE RUNNING days will return and they outnumber the RUNNING SUCKS days. Promise.

So, yesterday I hated running. Yesterday running SUCKED and I couldn't wait for the stupid run to be over. The day before I loved running and couldn't stop smiling. Win some, lose some. Something tells me tomorrow will be another sunshine and sprinkles and "I LOVE RUNNING" kinda days. And, I say-- bring it on!

Haunted Hilly Half - Race Recap

Consider yourself forewarned: This is gonna be a pretty quick recap, simply because it's been too long ago to remember much.

I woke up at about 6:30am 2 Saturday's ago (10/27) and headed out to Bonneville Mill Park in Bristol, Indiana (about an hour drive from my house). I got there about 8am for the 8:30am start and that gave me plenty of time to get my bib and packet and get to the start line with time to spare. The race was small, but well organized.

Now, as a reminder-- before this race, I was having some mega knee issues (see the last 123103847 blog posts where I bitch about it for proof). I went into this race telling myself I'd stop and DNF if it hurt. I was on a week of no-running, icing like a mad woman and lots of Aleve. I was hopeful I'd get through it but told myself over and over that I'd stop if it hurt.

 

I found out where I got there (b/c I was never bothered to look before) that the race was benefiting Down Syndrome support groups.

Yeah, that  whole not finishing if it hurt thing... that didn't happen.

After I heard what the race was supporting, there was NO WAY I wasn't going to finish it. Downs Syndrome and other similar mental disabilities have a very, very special place in my heart. I knew I wasn't going to not finish, even if I was still telling myself at this point to stop if it hurt.

Before the race started a Downs cheerleader group did a cheer to get everyone pumped and to kick the race off.

 

Admittedly, not a great pic-- but it was the most inspirational thing I've ever seen at the start of a race. How can you NOT be motivated and moved after that? I mean-- I was legit in tears. If these women could get out there and cheer for me, I could damn well run the f-ing thing. Again, no way I wasn't finishing it.

 

As I started, I told myself I wouldn't look at my Garmin even once. I had a long sleeve tech shirt on, so I just kept the sleeve over it and really never looked. I didn't want to be concerned with pace and honestly I wasn't. I felt good. I felt fresh. I was just SO FREAKING HAPPY to be running. The first mile I made myself go slower than I wanted and I really was feeling great.

 

I stopped at about mile .6 (the only time I looked at my Garmin and that was just to stop it) because I was helping an older man unknot and re-tie his shoe. Poor guy! He kept apologizing as I was helping him while the ENTIRE REST OF THE RACE flew past us. I assured him it was cool, I wasn't out to qualify for the Olympics or anything. Anyway-- after a solid 5 minute pit-stop to help him, I was back off-- and LITERALLY last in the pack. The guy I was helping FLEW on. I kept slow and steady and tried not to let the OMG!-I'm-LEGIT-LAST panic set in. And, believe it or not, I did. I kept my cool. I didn't worry. I was just SO HAPPY to be running it made NO DIFFERENCE to me that I was last. I didn't even let the freaking motorcyclist that was bringing up the pack (aka: me) bother me.

 

So, I trotted along for another mile-ish, still in last place. Still SMILING. Still LOVING running. Still NO knee pain!

Yeaaaaah.

That didn't last.

 

At about mile 1.5 it started to feel off again. Tight. Pain came in and out. I started passing people at this point which was freaking awesome! I later realized I was only passed by 2 people (1 of which came outta nowhere, I don't even think she was actually running the race) the entire race which was freaking SWEET! It was great to be the passer and not the one being passed. HUGE mental boosts!

 

Sadly, the mental didn't outweigh the physical this time.

 

The pain just got more and more intense.

 

I ran through it, like an idiot. At first I just kept reminding myself about the cheerleaders. Then, it was more because I logistically didn't know how stopping would work. This was a SMALL race. There were times I didn't even see another runner. Water stops were stationed by kids. I didn't know how stopping would work, so I just kept running along.

 

The pain coming in spurts. I found that it got worse when I bent my knee, so I worked hard to keep it as straight as possible. I'm sure I looked AWESOME running-- best form ever.

A few times I'd think maybe shaking the leg out would help or really bending it to get the kinks out or something. DID NOT HELP. OMG! Hurt soooo bad. So, I just kept trudging along, trying to keep my right leg as straight as possible.

 

The name "Haunted HILLY Half" didn't lie. This bitch was a beast. HUGE hills. In case you didn't know, it's freaking HARD to run up or down a hill without bending one leg. HARD, I tell you.

 

I know this may not look like that rough of a hill... but, this was the BABIEST of all the hills. And, there were a LOT. Trust me.

 

 

I had to walk up part of 2 of the hills because my knee was hurting SO BADLY. Sharp, shooting pains at points.

NOT GOOD.

 

I know.

 

STUPID MEAGAN.

 

I KNOW.

 

Whatever. I think deep down I knew I'd never not run the thing. The Hubs told me later he never had a single doubt I'd do the whole thing. I'm stubborn and headstrong and I suck at making life choices. It is what it is.

 

I finished strong-- negative splits! 8:something last mile! How, I have no idea. Again, I'm not the best life-choice-maker so I'm sure that had something to do with it.

 

Garmin time: 2:04:24.

 

Me post-race. Maybe not pain-free but I was still SO HAPPY TO HAVE RUN! I had a salty face! Do you KNOW how much I've missed having a post-long run salty face?!?! OMG!

 

 

A shinny new PR.

 

I could hardly walk after my knee hurt so bad, but a new PR nonetheless.

 

While my knee was beyond a whiney little bitch, I was still THRILLED to have run. I was on the BIGGEST runner's high the whole way home. I RAN! I GOT TO RUN! The entire race, I was either grimacing through a pain-filled moment or smiling SO BIG because I was RUNNING.

 

So, whatever. I made a bad choice. I know that. I should have stopped. I shouldn't have run through the pain. I got it. I know better. I knew better. I made the choice not to listen. It is what it is.

 

I took the ENTIRE WEEK off from all forms of cardio while on the cruise. Unless you count walking to the soft-serve fro-yo machine 4 times a day as cardio. I don't, for the record. I did workout each day-- weights. Actual weight/strength machines. WOAH, I know. It was NOT EASY not doing cardio. I LOVE cardio. But, I knew it was for the best. It took til Tuesday for my knee not to be in constant soreness/pain. It's still not the greatest. Feels stiff it it's straight or bent or just still too long.

 

NOT GOOD. Not good at all.

 

I went to spinning today and it felt OK, but I can tell it's not running-ready. So, I'll keep not running, even though it HURTS MY SOUL.

Boo.

 

I'm calling a doctor this week. Stay tuned...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The 5K That Wasn't

This weekend was SUPPOSED to be my come back to running.

I successfully ran the Nearly Naked Mile Race Thursday and was SO READY for my 5K this Saturday.

I was ready to run it nice and slow. I was ready to run it with a HUGE smile plastered all over my face because I was GETTING TO RUN!!

Didn't happen.

The Hubs and I started the "race" (I say "race" because it was a VERY small, family-friend planned event with about 30 runners total, aged 1o-60ish. VERY informal.) together. The Hubs! RUNNING! He wanted to see if he could run it and I was SOOOOO excited to have the company and knew it'd stop me from pushing too hard.

It did, which is great.

We took off and I was easily maintaining about a 10:30 pace. My legs felt GREAT and I was easily chatting the Hubs ear off, trying to distract him from the fact that he was running. I felt GREAT. The knee felt GREAT. I was SMILING and LOVING it.

Then, we hit mile 1.5ish. I started feeling the knee. It didn't hurt at first.... just felt off and very noticeable in every step. I felt like I could FEEL my knee more than usual. Makes no sense, but I can't describe it any better. Never had any sharp pains. The odd feeling just slowly kept getting more intense and transitioned into a painful feeling.  

We knew we were looping near our car at mile 2 and I told the Hubs I needed to stop when we got there.

The Hubs did great! We ran the first 1.25 miles without stopping in a 10:30 pace. Then, we walked a few seconds (about 20), kept running, walked a few seconds (about 30), kept running and then stopped. The last .75 miles ended up being in a 11:30 pace to average out to about a 11:00 overall pace. 

We stopped at mile 2. 22:00ish. I DNF a freaking 5K.

Now, to be fair-- the "race" started late, so the Hubs and I were planning on stopping at mile 2 before we even started because we had other plans and didn't want to be too late. So, I had already planned to not finish, so the DNF isn't hurting my mental state TOO much. In fact, I'm not REALLY even counting it as a DNF. But, let's be honest, I very may well have told the Hubs we were gonna finish it and just be late if I hadn't had the knee issues. I mean... this is ME we're talking about here. I guess we'll never know and it doesn't much matter.

What does matter? That stupid, stupid knee.

My lungs felt great. My legs felt great. I can tell I haven't lost much fitness... but, that damn knee.   

Ugh.

I'm frustrated. And pissed. And sad. And annoyed. And pissed. And terrified. And pissed. And over dramatic (shocker). And just PISSED.

I want to be healed. I want to be 100%. I want to RUN.

I want to run. Simple as that.

BLAH.

So, what am I doing from here?

Well, clearly I didn't run Sunday. Even though it was PERFECT outside and even though I planned to and even though I WANTED to. Instead, I gym-ed it. 60 min. elliptical and 10 min. bike. BORING. Ah. Over it.

Today, I went to spinning. Tomorrow, elliptical. Wednesday, spinning and ?. Thursday, elliptical and maybe spinning. Friday, elliptical and maybe yoga.

(note: I'm trying to workout pretty hard this week to make up for next week's no-workouts.)

As you can see-- NO RUNNING. No 1-mile test runs. No easy runs. No I-just-wanna-see runs. NO RUNNING. AND, no walks. For 1 whole week. BLAH. Not happy about it.

I am SOOOO hoping one more rest week will do the trick. Give it a little more time.

Next Saturday I'm going to TRY to do the half I registered for before the marathon. We'll see. I'm going to listen to my body and if it hurts, I really will DNF. Whatever will be, will be. I reallllly want to do it, though. I'm going to do all I can this week to help that happen.

IF it still hurts at the half, I'll give it 1 more week (more because I'm naturally not working out next week than because I want to). If it still hurts after that--- to the doctors I'll go.

BLEAH.

I'm not happy. I'm grumpy about it and pissed about it.

Luckily, other amazing things are happening in life, like my wedding anniversary today, to take my mind off it. When I think about the stupid knee in the same thought as our anniversary, it seems so small and insignificant. Does it matter to me? Of course. But, there's more to life than running. So, this week, I'm going to try to focus on those things. Saturday'll be here before I know it. Whatever will be, will be.

In the meantime, I have an anniversary to celebrate, work to complete, papers to grade, bags to pack, a house to clean, and life to lead. And, it's a pretty damn good life too.

Chicago Marathon Race Recap, Part I

So, here we are. 2 days later and I still can’t quite come to terms with the fact that the marathon is OVER. That I’m no longer “in training”. That I am a MARATHONER. It’s all too crazy to comprehend right now. So, let’s just get back to the review, shall we?

 

When we finished last time, I was walking out my hotel door and making my way to the start corrals.

Me in the hotel lobby heading out the door!

 

Our hotel was about a mile and a half to the start like, so it took me about 20 minutes to get there. There were TONS and TONS of other runners making their way there at the same time. Some were running, some were walking, some were wearing next to nothing, one was BAREFOOT (!!)… but, regardless of the differences, everyone was excited. You could literally feel the excitement in the air and the unmistakable race-day energy.

 

I got to my corral… to be honest, I have no idea when. It’s all kind of a blur. I do know I found everything no problem.  There were a LOT of people, but TONS of signage and lots and lots of very friendly volunteers who were helping people. 

 

I hoped in line for the porta potties (and the lines weren’t even that long!), did my business, and then got into my corral. I was in the 2^nd wave, so I couldn’t get straight into my corral, as we had to kinda wait for the first wave to start. I don’t know. It was kinda confusing, but I just stood around until everyone else start moving. Great plan! 

 

I got into my corral and then the waiting game started. TORTURE, I tell you! Longest hour-ish(??) ever. Just waiting and waiting. In the COLD. I was just SO ready to start. In fact, I was SO ready that I made mistake #1 in the corrals. When I first got into them, I was right next to the 4:10 pace group. Excellent! But, I KNEW I was supposed to see the Hubs and all my other supports (best cheer group EVER) just after mile 1 and that I’d need to be on the end to see them… so, I separated from the pace group and made my way to the end, which start creeping forward and forward. I saw the 3:55 pace group go bye me before our wave even started, just from people pushing forward, inching toward the start line. I think this was my first mistake. I should have stayed with my pace group. I SHOULD have known better. Lots of should haves. 

 

Anyway, our wave started right on time and I was off! With in 10 seconds, my garmin started FREAKING OUT. I had heard this would happen, so I wasn’t surprised, but it still sucked. I had a pace tattoo of the times I wanted to keep, but it didn’t really help. I had no idea where I was in relation to the times and I just had no idea what pace I was keeping. I felt GREAT and tried to tell myself to slow down, but clearly that didn’t work. 

View from the Hub and Cheer Squad's first viewing place. They got there in enough time to see the CRAZY FAST elite runner's go by. SO cool! I'm jealous!

 

I was SO EXCITED when I saw the Hubs and all the  other wonderful people who came out to cheer for me at miles 1, 3, and 12—just where we planned (and, yes—I planned…. To the exact spot… it was SO helpful and I saw them and they saw me EACH time we planned for). They made a HUGE, WONDERFUL sign and were just amazing. I legit had to choke back tears each time I saw them. It was amazing. SO emotional seeing them each time. 

Why, yes-- yes I did make this from Google Maps and then added my flair (aka: orange stars for each place I'd see my cheer squad) in Paint. Skills, right there.

 

 Check out that SIGN! It was the BEST SIGN I saw all day! And, definitely the biggest! AMAZING!!! SOOOO lucky to have them!!! (Thanks to my FIL for the pic!)

 

Ok, so back to the running… honestly, miles 1-15 were a blur. A great, fabulous blur. I felt amazing. I felt fast. I felt fresh.

 Me, just past mile 3-- all smiles! (Thanks to my FIL for the pic!)

 

 

My garmin never quite re-gained it’s bairings… sometimes it’d tell me I was doing a 9:00 mile, sometimes a 26:00 mile, sometimes a 3:30 mile. It was completely useless. Based on my pace tattoo, I KNEW I was going too fast. I’d see that I hit the mile 10 marker 2 minutes before I was supposed to and TELL MYSELF TO SLOW DOWN… but, I guess I just didn’t. I did the beginners mistake #1. Big time. I just felt so good, that it didn’t seem to compute that I WOULDN’T feel good in a few miles because I was feeling TOO GOOD then. STUPID, MEAGAN. 

Hey! That's ME! SMILING!! This was when they saw me between mile 11-12ish. I was still feeling GREAT and SOOOO happy to see them!!!

 

There were times when I’d come up to someone also wearing a 4:10 or 4:15 pace group sign and I’d tell myself: “Run with them. They’ll be at your pace.” And, I’d stick with them for a few minutes and then freak out thinking “but, what if they’re going SLOWER than pace? You can’t trust THEM! What if they don’t know their pace just as much as you don’t know yours? Just pass them. It’ll be OK.”STUPID, MEAGAN.

 

I decided to forgo any of the water stops after the cluster f the first one ended up being. I decided I'd just use the water bottles I brought in my fuel belt for the first half and then hit the water stops the second half.

The Hubs LOVES this pic. This is AFTER they already started clearing out a BUNCH of the cups after one of the early water stops. Crazy!!

 

Anyway, I flew through the first half and felt great. I has music on the whole time, but couldn’t even tell you 1 song I heard. I tried hard to take in everything and read all the great spectator signs and just RUN.

Spolier: My second half splits are SO MUCH SLOWER than this. You've been warned.

 

As my Garmin never worked, the race stats are the only numbers I have for you. Looking at it now... yeaaah... 9:11 average paces?!?!? STUPID, Meagan!!!

 

I passed the half mark feeling great still. The miles kept ticking by. At mile 15-16ish I (right before the 25K mark) stopped for the bathroom. I had literally felt like I had to pee from the start, but ignored it because every time I saw a porta potty the lines were crazy! I didn’t want to lose time, so I kept pushing. Finally, around 15.5 I had to stop or I would have legit peed my pants. 

 

So, I stopped.  I waited a solid 5 minutes to get into the porta potty. Stupid lines. I think my 25K average pace would have been even faster than the Half pace, if it hadn't been for that stop.

 

Anyway, I was PISSED I had to stop and PISSED that there was a line and just immediately started mentally falling apart. My legs immediately tightened up and started having some intense spasms. Everything started hurting. I texted the Hubs when I was in the porta potty asking if I’d see them again b/c I really needed to know I’d see them again and telling him I was hurting—really badly. My mental game FELL APART in that porta potty. Hot, I know.  

 

Needless to say, it was all downhill from there. Running up to the porta potty line at mile 15.5-ish was the last pain-less, enjoyable moment of that race. But, I feel like i should say again-- I loved EVERY SECOND of this half. Every second. I vividly remember thinking "OMG! I'm running a MARATHON! I'm TOTALLY GOING TO DO THIS! I CAN DO THIS! OMG! I want to do another one already!!!!"

 

As a side note: I mentioned the water stops were a cluster. They were. Actually, the whole race kinda was. It was just SO CROWED. People would pull up and stop RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU outta nowhere the entire time. It was just so crazy. I had to zig and zag like a mad woman just to avoid plowing over someone who stopped outta nowhere right in front of me. It was SO crazy. I didn't train like that. I was not used to that. My body doesn't start and stop so suddenly like that. I literally had to come to a complete stop MANY times because the person in front of my would just STOP outta nowhere. I also took out about 10 different people. I almost got taken out about 2 dozen times. It was madness. I think a LOT of my aches and pains came from this. More on this in the next recap (get excited).

 

Second half still to come…

Pre-Marathon Ramblings

So many emotions surging through my body right now.

So much I wish I could say, but somehow just can't quite articulate.

I cannot believe this thing is a day and a half away. It's just crazy that it's finally here.

I can't even remember WHEN or WHY I decided to do this. I can't remember when I started to realize I really just might be able to do this. I can't remember when it became SO important to me.

And, I guess none of that is really important.

What's important is that I DID decide I want to do this. What's important is that I DID realize I really just might be able to do this. That it DID become so important to me.

And, it is.

SO important to me.

I honestly can't remember a time I worked SO HARD for something that was entirely, 100% on ME. Sure, I worked through college and even grad school. I've had some HUGE projects or tasks at work that I've devoted myself to and took ownership of and been proud of. But, nothing like this. THIS is all on me.

No one else can help me physically (though, you better believe the mental and emotional help is NOT un-noticed and DEFINITELY helps!).

No one else can do it for me. No one else could get up before dawn in the middle of July and do a long run where sweat was literally dripping into my eyes and making them burn. No one else could feel just how tight and sore my legs were after a long run. Or how much those ice baths really, really sucked. No one else could pick up any of the slack or lend a helping hand leg.

THIS really has been the first thing I've ever really, really had to push myself outside my comfort zone and REALLY commit to doing. Even on the days when the alarm goes off WAY too early. Even on the days when I'm still sore from the day before. Even on the days when I didn't sleep great the night before. Even on the days when I already saw the gym once that day. Even when I JUST DIDN'T WANT TO.

I've surprised myself. Not because I'm still working toward the goal... I don't give up that easily and never have... but, because I never WANTED to give up. It never even crossed my mind. Did I doubt that I'd be successful (and still do a little bit?)? Absolutely. But, did I ever just thrown my arms up and say "I don't want to do this anymore!"? No. Not even for a nano-second. Never.

I LOVED training. I loved every step. Every second cross training. Every blister. Every black toe nail. Every sore muscle. Every much-needed nap. Every bite of food that just didn't seem to make a dent in my hunger.  Every run. Every sweat drop. I loved it.

And, now- it's almost over.

I have 1 teeeeny, tiny 2-mile SLOW shake out run tomorrow. And, then-- that's it. Training will officially be OVER.

All that will be left is what all those weeks and miles were training for... the marathon.

I want to run this thing so bad it hurts. My legs are ITCHING for it. My mind is incapable of thinking about anything else. The only thing I've EVER been thing excited for was my wedding (and, to be fair-- that excitement kicked this excitement's ass...so, there's that for comparison).

THIS is different. This has required SO MUCH dedication and motivation and mental AND physical strength. This has required me to really put myself out there and risk FAILURE. This has made me reach for something that I once never, ever thought I could ever achieve. This has made me see myself differently than I ever have before. This has made me see that I am capable of SO much more than I thought I was and that my body is able to be pushed SO MUCH harder than I ever thought.

I owe running so much. I owe this marathon so much and I haven't even run it yet.

No matter what happens Sunday, I will forever be grateful to the 2012 Chicago Marathon. I will forever know that I gave this training cycle and this race my ALL. That I put 100% into each run and each workout and each day. I will forever know that I did this.

Sunday can't come fast enough.

I can't wait to toe that start line. I can't wait to see the look on the Hubs face when he sees me on the course and to give him a HUGE hug after. I can't wait to see my friends and family cheering for me. I can't wait to soak it all in. Every step. Every other person. Every everything. I can't wait to give it my all. I can't wait to feel that runner's high.

I can't wait to cross the finish line and officially be a MARATHONER. And, I know, on Sunday-- I will.

My Marathon Week Inspiration Sending BFF

One of my VERY BFF's (the one I went to Jason Mraz with... hi, M!!!) has emailed me EVERYDAY this week (it's MARATHON WEEK!!) some inspiration for the upcoming race. I thought I'd share just in case you don't have an awesome friend like mine. Don't worry-- it's OK to be jealous. I'd share her, but I'm WAY too possessive of a friend. Duh.

Monday:




Tuesday:


Wednesday:

 

Thursday: TBD! :)

Friday: TBD! :)

Saturday: TBD! :) 

 

I can't wait to see what the rest of the week holds... not that she has to keep sending them, but if she does, I can't wait!

 

 

So, to my marathon week inspiration sending BFF... I say THANK YOU! You've brightened every day this week and I'll DEFINITELY think of each one of these and of YOU during the race Sunday. You rock. I love you!!!

Ah! Too much stress!!

The one week I feel like I have the MOST to say is of course the week I am SOOOO busy at work.

Yesterday I went to the gym at 5am for Spinning and 2.5 quick (8:01 pace!) miles on the TM. Then, I worked. ALL DAY. As in-- pretty much non-stop. I ate lunch at my desk. As I kept working. I worked from 7:45am-8:45pm. Pretty much non-stop. Ok, I mean-- I didn't work when I drove to my house and I did take a 20 minute break to eat dinner, but other than that: I worked.

Phew. I'm beat. Today will be another buuuusy and late day. And, tomorrow, even busier (though HOPEFULLY not late!). Thursday, same.

OF COURSE! The one week I'd like to be as chill and dead-zone at work as possible is the one week it's CRAAAZY. That's my luck. I expected it.

Luckily, I took Friday off as a mental health/prep day. I plan to veg most of the day and do as little as possible, while eating as much as possible. OK, that's only half true. I'll let you decide which half.

Anyway, I'll try to do an update soon. I had a great weekend I'd love to share about, a confident-destroying "long" run Saturday (at a 9:00 average pace), and I have a ton of in-general thoughts about to explode out of my overly-filled head. But, all that'll have to wait for now.

Sorry for the down-er-ish post. I'm overwhelmed and stressed to the max. I can't believe this thing is THIS SUNDAY. I feel unprepared. I feel stress to make the whole race be SO MEANINGFUL. I feel stress to make everyone who's coming to see me race have a great experience. I feel stress about... everything?  I legit almost broke down into overwhelmed with life tears sitting at my desk yesterday. Wowza. I'm kinda a mess. Ugh. I'm a whiner today. Sorry!!!!

This woe-is-me-craziness will fade. I promise! I'm in a slight funk, but I know I'll kick myself out of it very soon. Work'll calm down and I have 2 rest days Thursday and Friday. I can do this. I know I can. I know I will.
 
Ok... gotta get back to work. Again. Still. Whatever.

Still Sick

I'm still sick.

I could not be more over this nonsense.

I haven't worked out since MONDAY. Today is WEDNESDAY. That might not seem that long to some people, but to ME-- it's a LONG time.

Wah, wah-- I know. I'm such a whiney baby. I know. But, I HATE being sick. And, I know I'm mid-taper and maybe this is my bodies way of MAKING ME taper... but, I also know completely to a COMPLETE SWEATING STOP is not good either. I need a happy medium. I need to not be sick.

Just how sick am I? Am I exagerating? I'll let you be the judge.

Exhibit A:

I've gone through an entire bottle of Ziacam since Monday.

 

Exhibit B: I was asleep last night by 7:30pm. Yeaaaaah. As in, BEFORE 8 o'clock. That's just crazy talk.

Exhibit C: (Maybe the most telling...)

The Hubs was out running errands last night and got back after I went to bed (cough, cough-- at 7:30pm-- cough, cough). He kinda woke me up to tell me he brought me home fro yo as a suprise. I didn't even move. It's in the freezer as we speak. Yup-- I PASSED on fro yo. Me. That's crazy talk. The thought of moving even an inch last night was just too much to consider. CLEARLY-- me=sick.

 

 

So, to try to cheer myself up from said sick-ness and lack of sweatiness, I did what any rational sweat-lovin' girl would do.

 

Signed up for my first post-marathon race! I mean... duh. It's a local half-marathon that's a full 3 weeks after the marathon. I figure that'll be enough time to recover, but not too much time to lose all levels of fitness or too much time to make me fall into a lazy slump. It'll give me something to look forward to. I'm totally just running it for fun... some co-workers are running the 5K with it and it's in the fall and has a halloween theme and it's the day before the Hubs and I leave for a week long cruise, so I figure it'll be one last good run before a week of amazing FOOD, FOOD, and more FOOD! 

 

Anyway... I'm trying the whole "mind over matter" thing over here today and trying to tell myself over and over "I AM NOT SICK! I AM NOT SICK!" I realllllly wanna get to the gym tomorrow to get a few miles in. I can use all the mental strength I can get. So, repeat after me: "MEAGAN IS NOT SICK!"