Intervals, 100% cotton, and other forms of torture.

One of the reasons that I chose running as my form of exercise was the idea that it was "free."  It didn't require a gym membership.  It didn't require special gear or expensive attire.  In theory, I could just walk out my front door and go.

Which worked.  For a short while.  

I put on my 100% cotton yoga pants and my cheap shoes and was set.  It didn't take long before I realized that I was going to have to invest more than time and energy if I was going to keep this up.  My yoga pants literally came apart at the seams and had to be sewn together again.  They did not breathe AT ALL, which became very apparent as the spring got warmer.  My shoes were not holding up as I had hoped.  If I was going to continue running longer distances, I was going to need a way to carry water on my runs, etc.

Thankfully, Rick was supportive from day one.  He was proud of me for losing weight and taking control of my body.  And he told me to go ahead and get what I needed to train for a marathon.  Problem was, I didn't really even know what that was yet.

I tried getting advice from friends who had been running for a long time, but the problem with that was that they all had different ideas.  Some people swore by certain running clothes, while others had luck with something else entirely.  The only thing that stayed consistent in the advice was to try different things and see what worked for me.  I feel like I spent 5 months finding the formula for a perfect run.

First thing I bought was some moisture wicking clothes.  I was amazed at what a difference it made as my runs got longer.  I also had started collecting a few sport shirts from the races I had already run.  I invested in good shoes in June, which was ABSOLUTELY worth it.  I discovered the worth of good running socks after a horrible blistering realization during the half marathon in August.  I figured out that sports bras made of pure cotton were a dreadfully painful form of torture.  I would chafe so bad that I would bleed along my rib cage.  Not fun.  I managed to run up to about 10 miles without taking water with me, but I knew that if I was to keep going longer, I was going to have to get a running belt.  I toyed around with different types of fuel,  Peanut butter and honey.  Gatorade Chomps.  Gu.  Energy jelly beans.  Caplytes.  Gatorade.  I needed music to keep my sanity...which required an mp3 player and headphones.  What app should I use to keep track of my runs?  etc.  Eventually, I was fairly certain that I had purchased everything that I would need to be able to run the marathon. 

But that was only half the battle.

We tried to break up our runs throughout the week.  We practiced on the hill behind our house to prepare for the Veyo hill.  We did our long runs on the more flat areas around our houses so that we would be able to handle the long flat portion of the marathon just before the half way point.  We tried routes, and then tried them backward.  (not running backward, just reversing the loop ;) ) And then there were the track workouts.  Speed training.  Stairs.  Intervals.  I am fairly sure that intervals were invented by a masochist.  They hurt so good.  They were horrible in the moment, but we felt so strong afterward.  Strong, but with jelly legs, I guess.  We discovered on one horrible 14 mile run what it was like if we didn't properly hydrate and "chomp up."  It was a constantly humbling experience.  Just when we thought it we had it all down, we would realize something else that we needed to train for or try.  We trained in heat and humidity that is uncommon for our area.  (the humidity, not the heat)  We ran runs that started at 4:00am in 90+ degree weather.  We learned which roads to avoid because of traffic or the lack of a shoulder.  We realized how quickly a run could go wrong, just by eating the wrong thing the night before.  (I don't know if I will ever love pizza again.)  I thought it would be trial and error for a couple of weeks and then I would have it down, but it's been a constant process.  I finally feel like I have a pretty good grasp of how to prepare for, run, and recover. 

Which means that I will probably discover some other horrendous, torturous pit-fall sometime in the middle of the marathon.

Cross your fingers for me.