This evening I started hill training again. I ran 7 miles and the first four were at a park near our home. The hills aren’t huge there but there are a lot of them and some of them seem to drag on forever. My first four miles were pretty decent. I wasn’t totally defeated. Yay! But the next three miles were a special kind of ugly. Gaggy ugly. Ew. And my legs are really feeling it right now. I hurt! But you know what? I didn’t care! I am excited to run with a new purpose. It has set my soul on fire and I am LOVING IT … um … despite how horribly awful I feel at the moment. HA!
Well, I hope you all have a day where you are happily miserable!!!
Today is one of those days where I’m overwhelmed with emotions. Libs is currently taking her AP European History test. This class has been ROUGH. And with the finishing of this test a close is brought to A LOT of our school year misery. Thank you JESUS! On top of that, I finished my last hilly long run today. Nothing but light “jogs” and walking until race day. YIPPIE! And if those two things aren’t enough goodness I have one more. George is coming home from college today! It has been a crazy freshman year for him that started with (but certainly not limited to) an evacuation because of the California wildfires. Yep, his school year was a DOOZY for him. Needless to say, with all this resolution today, I am feeling pretty darn thankful and very much relieved.
Well, I hope you all have a day where you cry happy tears!!!
Today I ran my first 10-miler since November. And it was ugly.
I had a great running “season” in 2015. I PRed my half marathon distance. That felt amazing! I qualified for the USA Half Marathon. Twice! And I got to run the Twin Cities Marathon with my dear friends and running mentors. EPIC!
But it was a rough year too. I broke my foot and struggled with pain and the fear of re-injury from June through November. And as excited as I was to have qualified for it at mile 9 at the USA Half Marathon in November, I realized something. I was DONE. Perhaps it was because I forgot my hat and sunglasses in my hotel room and had just turned into the blazing sun, but I could think of about a BAZILLION things I would have rather been doing at that very moment. And none of them involved running.
With Sid and Reese’s health issues at the end of the year and trailing into the first part of 2016 I decided that it was time for a break. No distance running for me for a while. No races. Just running for the love of it. I knew that when the time was right to “work” my miles again I would know it. It would happen naturally, like finding a long lost friend.
And it did.
I can’t even remember when my running became training again. I have so many training schedules swimming around in my head now that I find that I do them without much thought. But regardless of when, I started to “work” my miles again. Slowly. Climbing gradually. And not making any of it easy. I took to the hills. This time a route that changed up multiple times within one mile. And I repeated it. Over. And over. And over again. Talk about muscle confusion! I did one hilly run after another. Week after week my miles climbed. And the struggle was REAL.
For me running 10 miles is THAT distance. The one that personally makes me feel like a distance runner. Ever since I started running distance I have felt that if I don’t run at least 10 miles on my long run, I should probably just not even get out of bed. I’m weird. This is a ME thing. It’s the place I’ve found where I fit best in my own skin and in my own mind. It means something to me. As athletes we all have that ONE physical threshold. The weights we lift. The calories we burn. The miles we run. The seemingly meaningless pressures we put on ourselves for reasons outsiders never quite understand. They are, perhaps, the amor we wear to better fight our demons, to deal with our struggles … and the things that others can’t see. Our reasons WHY may only make sense to us. And that’s OK with me.
As difficult as it was I will count today as a victory. I found my long lost friend. The miles of solitude, self reflection, pain, tears and utter joy. I plan on hanging with these miles for a while. With time I will run them better and they will ultimately make me stronger. Which is good … because I have some pretty lofty dreams to chase.
Well, I hope you all have a day where you run YOUR 10 miles!!!
Watch them wiggle. See them jiggle. “Them” being my wobbly legs after another morning running hills.
Well, I hope you all have a day where you don’t turn your lower half into jell-o!!!
I often judge a good training run by how awful I feel running it. No joke. Am I hot, sweaty and miserable? Do my lungs feel like they are going to explode? Do my legs feel like they are being pushed to the limit? And … do I want to throw up? Yep, I mean barfing. To clarify, actual barfing is bad, but feeling like I want to barf is a good thing. At least for me. It’s a gauge to know that I have really pushed myself as hard as I could. Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t recommend doing this. I know my body and what my limits are. I adhere to the rule of “safety first”. I know what it feels like to push myself and I know what it feel like to almost black out while running because I pushed too far. Sadly, I’ve gotten there and it is SCARY.
Anyway, on my run Saturday I was pretty darn happy with myself. I was doing some hill training and was quite miserable … AND … I wanted to throw up. I knew when I was done, I could do no more. I carried on with my day as usual then later in the afternoon I felt queasy again. I chalked it up to dehydration and drank a lot of water. Minor dehydration is not uncommon for runners especially when the heat comes into play. We have been having some warm days lately so my dehydration didn’t come as a surprise to me. To put it in perspective, it was 93 degrees here today. Some winter!
Yesterday I woke feeling good and headed out with my family for a lovely Valentine’s Day at the Getty Villa, dinner at Philippe’s and dessert at Donut Man. It was a great day! I do admit, however, that there were a few times yesterday when I felt a moment of nausea creep in. Again, I just drank more water and felt fine. Well, sadly I was nauseous again today too, only this time it was WAY worse. I felt terrible! And my poor Reese is not feeling good either. She has had almost no appetite. I am no doctor but I am pretty darn sure that she didn’t catch my dehydration. So now, I realize one thing. I have not been dehydrated, I have been sick! Ugh.
Well, I hope you all have a day where you weren’t out spreading around all your germs!!!
Boy oh boy. What. A. Day. I did everything I normally do and then some. Plus I took it all up a notch. I hill trained, I social work-ed and I supermom-ed the heck out of this day! And ya know what? I am POOPED.
Today also … KICKED … My … Butt.
Well, I hope you all had a day where you wished you wore steel undies!!!
I love running in San Francisco and I love running hills, so I’m in runner heaven when I am here. However, since breaking my foot I haven’t run up one hill. Not. One. Until today.
I decided last night that I wanted to make my training run today one I wouldn’t soon forget. I wanted to climb to the highest point in San Francisco that I could get to that still stuck within my scheduled training miles.
And I think I found it.
I ran all over the city before I started my trek up California Street. The highest point would cross at Jones Street.
All I can say is that I climbed and climbed. And at one point I’m not so sure I was, what you would call, running. And did I mention the sweat? Good lord. I was dripping.
So I admit I was pretty proud of myself with what I pulled off today. BUT. I kinda forgot how this might all feel later. Um. Yeah. I forgot that.
Well, I hope you all had a day where you didn’t think your legs were going to fall off!!!