Just a day.

As the reality of training for a marathon set in, I decided to do my research.  I checked websites, running groups, and magazines.  But my favorite source of information came from people.  I have a few friends who have been runners for years, and I figured that their expertise was the best I could get.  I got tons of advice.  Everything from mp3 players to running socks, from diet to they way I tie my shoes, from water belts to playlists.

There were a few pieces of advice that contradicted each other, just depending on personal preference.  When to carbo load, how long your longest run should be, etc.  But there was one piece of wisdom that was imparted by several people, each in their own words.  I think my friend Beka said it best.  "The marathon is just a day.  The real challenge is in the training."

Oh boy, was she right.  Well, I guess I can't technically say that yet, since the BIG DAY hasn't come yet.  But I can definitely see it.  The training is what tries you.  The early alarms, the adjusted diet, the tired days, the achy muscles, the strict calendar.  I used to look to the marathon day with fear and dread.  Now I look at it with excitement.  It will be hard...that I know.  But it will be the end.  I will have reached my goal.  It won't be the end of my running, but it will be the end of my training for a while.  I know that probably doesn't make much sense to a lot of people, but if you have trained for a marathon, you KNOW what I mean!

October 5th can't get here soon enough!

It's all in your head

We've all heard it.  "It's more mental than physical." 

And I believed it.  Before this whole process started, I believed it.  But I didn't really GET it. 

I get it now. 

Fairly early on...when I had been running maybe 2 or 3 months...I hit a wall.  Up until that point, I was out of shape enough that the whole run was "the wall."  I had finally built up enough to be able to run a couple of miles without struggling.  So, as I was about 2 miles into a 3 mile run, I hit a wall.  I kept telling myself that I had done it up until this point, so why should it be any different now?  The word that popped into my head at that moment was inertia. 

Inertia.

Basically, it's the principle that an object in motion will stay in motion until other forces act upon it.

This was breakthrough moment for me.  It was not an "AHA!" moment, per se.  It was more of a "Stupid inertia.  Inertia is bull crap.  I am currently in motion, but I can't just stay in motion indefinitely.  Why doesn't inertia work on humans?"  And I kept struggling through every step of that 3 mile run.  

After I finished my run, I kept thinking about inertia.  And I thought about the forces that act upon an object in motion...most especially friction.  A ball rolling through the grass will not keep going forever because the grass causes friction, slowing the momentum of the ball.  Stupid friction.

Here's where the "AHA!" moment came in. 

I am my own friction.  I am the reason that I can't keep running.  I can do this, as long as I don't allow negative thoughts to be my friction.  As long as I realize that, I can break through the struggles and come out the other side, gaining momentum.  I understand that on occasion, forces outside of my control will be my friction.  But in that moment, I made the choice to not allow my own thoughts to be my friction. 

And I have frequently thought back upon that moment.  When I really needed to push through about 17 miles into my 18  mile run, I thought about intertia, and friction, and instead of walking (which EVERY part of me wanted to do), I sped up and finished that run strong!

Take that, friction!

The Half

As part of our training, we wanted to do a half marathon.  We had already run further than 13 miles, but we felt that it would be good for us to do an official run.  I wanted to feel the energy of a race atmosphere.  So we signed up for the Parowan Half:  Yankee Meadow Run.  I was really excited to do this race because it was so much downhill, and it was a drop back from the longer runs we had already started to do.

This race is in such a beautiful place.  The canyon has the beauty of aspen trees as well as pine and oak.  The starting line was at a picturesque reservoir,




























then the race dropped into some red sandstone





































before ending in the tiny town of Parowan.

I wish I could say that the half was nothing but a great experience.  It was not.  Was I glad we did it?  Definitely.  But it was TOUGH!  The first couple of miles were nice, running around the reservoir.  It was a little sketchy because it was a dirt road at first, but once we hit the pavement it was much better.  We hit the first aid station feeling great.

We ran alongside a guy who was also from St. George and running his first half marathon.  He was confident that he could do it even though his longest run was only 4 miles.  We all tried to keep a straight face as he told us that he wasn't worried about 13 miles because it was downhill, so it was really only like 8 miles, right?  We passed him at some point and didn't see him again.

There was also a kid of about 14 or so that kept stopping and dry heaving at the side of the road.  We offered him some water, but he wouldn't take it.  I sure hope he ended up OK. 

About then the downhill got a little crazy.  We had run downhill before, but this was aggressively downhill.  It was so steep that every time I would take a step, I could feel my foot slide all the way forward in my shoe, and then do it all over again the next step.  We hit the mile 6 aid station, and I thought I had something in my shoe.  I stopped and checked, but couldn't see anything, so I kept going.  Shortly afterward, we hit the half-way point, where I decided to see if there was actually something in my sock.  When I pulled back my sock, I saw a blister almost the size of my heel.  Oh crap.  I had never had a blister, even at the very beginning of my running process.  And here I was, half way through my race, with a monster of a blister that I would have to finish the race with.  Dang.  But I pulled my sock and shoe back on and headed on down the road.  By mile 7 I realized that I had a matching blister buddy on my other foot.  Fanflippintastic.

But the fun did not end there.  We reached the bottom of the canyon portion of the run and turned a corner.  Suddenly we were in open, blistering sun.  We were not used to training in exposed sun like that.  Most of the time we would see the sun while it was rising, and not much beyond that.  I felt my energy draining fast. I got a little boost from a well-placed aid station.  Then there was a most angelic Parowan citizen who stood in front of his house, with his garden hose pulled to it's limit, spraying the runners as they went past.  I could have kissed his 80 year old face. 

The good news was, even with my blisters and the sunshine, we were ahead of pace. So we just kept going.

If I were in charge of a race (which I am sure I never will be);  but if I were, I would do everything in my power to make sure that the finish line is placed in such a way that you do NOT pass it with 3 miles left to go.  It is pure torture to have to pass the finish line, then make a loop back up to the finish line.  Especially if that loop takes you slightly downhill, leaving you with a slight uphill back to the finish line. 

Also, if I ever run a half marathon, and I get to the finish line with extra energy, and I decide it would be a good idea to run back up the race course "encouraging" the runners still on the course, just do me a favor, and SHOOT ME!  Because that is SO ANNOYING!

Truth be told, I really struggled those last 3 miles.  I wanted so bad to keep up the pace, but I just ran out of energy.  I walked in short spurts, then would run again, but I felt that at that point, my running pace was hardly any faster than my walking pace.  When we finally got to that last turn, where we could see the finish line and hear the announcer and the cheering, I was finally able to keep my feet going.  It was a great feeling to cross that finish line.  Probably because it hadn't been a cakewalk run, it felt even better than it would have.  I always feel this feeling of elation after I have done something hard.  Since that race I have run 16, 17, 18, and 22 mile runs and finished feeling better than I did at that race.  But I still have such a great feeling when I think of that half...finished in 2 hours and 20 minutes with two GIANT blisters on my feet and not an ounce of energy left.


























Rick's work was a sponsor for the race, and paid for my entry.  Several other employees and spouses ran the race as well.  We all got together at the finish line for a little company picture.




























Ryan and Heather are the greatest running partners ever.

Ryan had been through a horribly traumatizing week, and yet she was there to complete that run with some serious grit.  Heather is all positivity and encouragement.  I am lucky to have them to go through this process with.  And I can't wait to run the marathon with them.  We are going to be awesome!


























And I tell you what.  I have redemption on my mind.  I will definitely be running that race again next year.  And I will kill my time.  And I will cross that finish line blister-free and smiling!  If it kills me.

I run like a gazelle.

 


























It occurred to me about 16 miles into our 18 mile run.  I run like a gazelle.  It's true.  If you look it up, and find out what a gazelle looks like while running, and compare it to a video of me running, you may not quite see the resemblance.  I identify with the gazelle in a completely different way.

I am that gazelle.  The one who is just slightly behind the group.  The one who the lion would zero in on and cut off from the herd.  The one who would be taken down by the predator.

It's OK.  I'm good with it.  I feel good about being able to keep up with my running mates, even if it's just barely at times.  And considering we are pretty far from the savannah, I'm fairly certain that there are no lions running loose around here. I may be that gazelle, but I'm a gazelle nevertheless.

New Shoes

I was a cynic, I will admit.  When people told me that having good running shoes made all the difference, I was not convinced.  I thought that they had all been duped by the salesmanship of the Running Store.  When I started running, I went to the sporting goods store, and bought the cheapest shoes I could find.  20$.  I figured why spend a lot of money on something that I wasn't sure that I would keep using anyway.  But after a few months of running, and still fighting knee pain, I decided that I might need something new.  The final straw was when I looked at the bottoms of my shoes and realized that the tread had been worn completely off in places.  I took advice and went to the Running Store ready to bite the bullet and drop 100$ on a pair of shoes.  Shopping for shoes at a dedicated running store is quite the process.   The guy that was helping me looked at my old shoes to see what my wear patterns were.  He had me stand barefoot to see how my feet turned into the floor.  When we were ready to start trying things on, he had me wear two different types of shoe at the same time, so that I could tell which one I liked better.  He had me go outside and run up and down the shopping center sidewalk so that I could get a good feel for them.  He told me to describe what I did or did not like about the shoe.  I found myself identifying myself as a rookie with statements like "It makes my foot too squishy."  But in the end, the system worked.  I wore one shoe for several rounds of face offs and it won every time.  Until the final round, when I tried on a Nike shoe.  Before I had even finished tying the laces, I could feel the difference.  I loved how it felt on my foot.  It was breathable without being too roomy.  And I was excited to see how it felt when I ran.  And while I was outside testing the shoes out, a nice lady gave me a coupon for 15$ off that she was not going to use.  85$ later, I walked out with my beloved new shoes.  Within a week of runs, my knee pain was all but gone.  And it has not returned. 

Thank-you, Nike shoes, I am now a believer.  The shoes really DO make all the difference!

The 14 miles that almost killed me.

Coming off of my runs with Rachael, I think I got a little over confident.  I had a little bit of that feeling that I had after giving birth.  That "I am the queen of awesomeness and I can do anything!!!!" feeling.

Pride cometh before the fall.

Our 14 miles was my fall.  If I remember right, it was supposed to be a 15 miler.  We had it mapped out, but ended up taking a short cut and making it just 14.2-ish.  I know I probably could have made it the full 15, but it just might have killed me.

Looking back, there were a few factors contributing to that run sucking so much.  It had finally gotten truly hot.  So even though we started the run early, it was already hot.  Consequently, I sweat a lot.  We ran a loop that included a Maverik, where we stopped to refill our waters.  I had gatorade in two of my little bottles, and it was already gone, but I didn't think I would need anymore, so I didn't buy a gatorade at Maverik.  I was soon regretting it.  We had a hill right after Maverik, and I seriously struggled while climbing it.  It wasn't that I was in my own head and didn't think I could do it.  In fact, I was thinking, "I can do this.  Why won't my legs listen to me right now?"  I was just so weak.  

Heather and Ryan were doing their best to be supportive, but they were struggling off and on themselves.  Sometimes the words of encouragement really boost me.  And other times I just need to put my head down and pretend I am alone.  I remember one run where I was struggling on a steady uphill, and Heather said, "There's only 5 more telephone poles until it evens out."  And I nearly punched her.  It's funny because another time that very sentence would have given me just the boost I needed. 

Those 14 miles humbled me again.  They reminded me that while I had come a long way, I still had a long way to go.  I needed to swallow my pride when it came to refueling and "chomping up."  ("chomping up is our term for taking a minute to get some energy in us.  In the beginning, this came in the form of Gatorade's CHOMPS, hence the term "chomping up.") 

From that point on, I gave those long runs the respect they deserved.  I made sure I had all the energy and fuel I needed.  I made rest and hydration a priority the night before the run.  I listened to my gut, and listened to my body.  It wasn't the last crummy run I've had, but I am glad that I had that eye opening craptastic run to make me more cautious and aware.  I'm not letting a run catch me by surprise again!

Running With Rachael

Running with Rachael.

It seems like it should be a class you sign up for at the gym.  Or a web mini-series or something.  I picture a whole group of girls, cheery and excited about running...  their ponytails swishing as they jog down the road, with Rachael at the head, periodically turning around and running backward, totally keeping pace while spouting words of running wisdom.  Trust me, it's going to be a thing.

Rachael was my roommate for a brief period while Rick and I were dating.  She had been a close friend before that, and has been a close friend since.  Rachael has always been an inspiration to me.  She faces life head-on, with a perkiness that would be annoying if she wasn't so darn lovable.  She is Amelia Bedelia in the flesh, and life was never dull with Rachael around.  One time Rachael decided that she wanted to learn to sing.  So she signed up for voice lessons and didn't give up, and now she is a beautiful singer.  She proved herself in a highly successful family by fighting her way through law school and becoming a pretty darn good lawyer.  (should I ever need those services, I would totally go to her!)  She is a talented and witty writer, a genuinely good person, and a loyal friend. While Rachael and I were roommates, she decided that she wanted to get herself into shape and so she started running.  To be honest, I think we all thought that it would fizzle out in a few days.  But it didn't.  Morning after morning, Rachael would hit the trail and we would see her return all red-faced and sweaty and awesome.  As it turns out, Rachael is a pretty darn amazing runner.  She has run several marathons, relays, halfs, and most recently an ultra-marathon.  See, I told you she was awesome!

When Rachael was in town in June, she texted me begging to join me on a long run.  I couldn't fathom why she would want to run with me, considering that she was a MUCH faster runner than I am, and I would just be holding her back.  But she assured me that she just wanted to be able to spend some time with me, and going on a long run seemed like the perfect time.  So we set up a plan and a time.  At that point, my longest run was a 9-miler that I had run alone.  Rachael suggested that we do 12 miles, and the thought terrified me, but I was too proud to tell her that, so I agreed.

We ran the bottom part of the marathon course.  I was anxious about the distance.  I was anxious about the downhill course.  I was anxious about running with someone who was clearly more cut out for it than I was.  It was a great run.  I was able to run nearly all of it, with only a little pain in my knee.  I was so proud of myself for completing a distance that had seemed so out of reach only a couple of months before.

Which is why when we were retrieving our car at the start line, and Rachael suggested that we run again the next weekend, only doing a distance of 13.2 miles this time, I readily agreed.  (Rachael couldn't just settle for a half marathon distance, she wanted me to complete MORE than a half marathon distance, so we ran 13.2 miles).  Our second run together was even better than our first.  I was hoping to complete the 13.2 in less than 2 and a half hours, and we beat that time by about 5 minutes!  At the finish line, which was her parents house, she had her mom take some pictures of us together, and insisted on laying on the ground, pretending that I had beaten her to the ground.  (you see what I mean about being a loyal friend?)  

Those runs with Rachael were another breakthrough in this process.  I felt that crossing that line into double digits, even so far as a half marathon had turned me into a real runner.  And I found that running long distances was fun.  Really fun.  Truly fun. 

So thanks, Rachael, for coaching me through the tough spots, and for making me believe I was awesome, even though I am totally less awesome than you are!  And you totally look better after 13 miles than I do!