Wednesday, April 20, 2011

17 Again!

Well, no, this is technically the first time I've ever run 17 miles (longest run ever!), but I'm just a big fan of Zac Efron.

Who wouldn't want to go to high school with this Adonis?

So all my fears are put to rest (well, not all, not until this $#%@ing marathon is behind me), but I manned up, and ran my first REAL long run since March when I ran with Clarke that 15 miles. I was a little afraid, but that 10 mile run I did last Wednesday really puffed up my ego enough to feel like I could do it. Now I'm at a point where I SHOULD technically be tapering off my distance until the marathon (which is less than 3 weeks away!), but I feel like I need to get one more long run in before I start that. 2 runs longer than 13 miles spaced out over a 2 month period does not a marathon-training make. But enough about that, onto the runs! (WARNING: snot references below)

Sunday, 3pm, 17 miles. WINDY, overcast/sunny mix, chilly
Well holy F I did it (as I had mentioned before). This run was comprised of 2 x 8 miles loops, with an extra mile thrown in the first loop, bringing us to that fun little total of 17 miles. If the amount of miles I ran was an age, I'd be able to drive past midnight with my Driver's License! I suited up with my runner's belt (which I still feel stupid putting on, but my god I really do love that thing and swear by it. Best (almost) $50 spent...the "real" best would be on either food or beer), and put a half pack of Cliff Shot Bloks and a full pack of Jelly Bean Sport Beans and tried to forget I was running for 3 hours. 3 hours. Of running. Oh yeah, and it's still 9.2 miles shorter than the distance I'm training for. Yeah, that's what a sane person should do. AH see how easy it is to slip into negative thinking!? And that was nothing.

So along with my mental hurdles to tackle, it was windy. And I mean WINDY. Which, as an avid snot-rocketer, is not the best condition. Right in the beginning at 1.5 miles I did what I always do: peel back my gloves, ready my fingers around my nose, make sure my headphone cord isn't in the way, and then go to town. Well, when you have a rogue element (hint: WIND) you can't control where your...fluids...land. Now this wind was going so hard and so fast, I didn't even see where it went. It was like it was there...then POOF, nothing. I was so freaked out that it went in my hair or something I stopped, walked back a few steps, and diligently looked around the ground to see if I could spot where it landed. It. Had. Disappeared. I swear. I then tore off my gloves and feverishly felt along my hair, face, pants, shirt...etc for any semblance of snot or bodily fluid. To my dismay (really? I wanted my bare fingers to touch that?) I found nothing. Where that snot landed, we may never know, I still feel that it was somewhere on my person, out of my sight, gleaming like a newly appointed badge for the unwitting passing cars to see and gawk at. "Look at that girl, she has snot all over her pants. hahaha. Let's enjoy the rest of our day NOT running for 3 hours" zoooooom.

So fast forward to the 5 mile mark, where I'm at the furthest part of my loop and turning down a road to complete the second half of the first loop (still with me?). Well, I was feeling fine, good pace, adequate candy-like fuel in me thanks to the handy pouch in my runner's belt, the wind wasn't even getting me down (too much). The I started thinking about the fact that "hey, I'm going to be back here after another 8 miles. Hey street sign, see you in an hour and a half!" And that's when I had to talk myself from an early psych-out. This run wasn't so much physically challenging as it was mentally. After that point every 5 min or so that thought would creep into my head and I literally had to REALLY try to stop those thoughts and put my mind on something else...ANYTHING ELSE.

Besides the wind and snot, the next 4 miles were pretty uneventful.

Fast forward to the end of my first loop. 9 miles down, 8 to go. At least I could stop psyching myself out about the double-loop thing. At this point it was all about that grand prize: 17 miles. I started ascending the Oakland hill for the second time, and up in the distance I saw a man running ahead of me in a red running outfit. I wonder how far he's going? Is he training for the marathon too? Look at those back pockets he has in his shirt! How clever. As I started looking closer, he had the same stride and form as my friend Zach (who had originally signed up for the marathon, and due to workload has cut down to the half marathon).

Side story about Zach and running:
This actually happened about 2 weeks before I started this blog. I may have hinted at the fact that I'm not very balance-and-or-grace gifted, and have had some serious injuries involving falling from running. This is one of those stories. So it's a Wednesday night in Michigan in January, so that means SNOW and it's dark. But we decided to do an easy 4 mile run, the first time we had run together EVER. The run was fun, we talked about people, places, things, the usual, and I almost forgot how cold and miserable my surroundings were since I had great company (man, thinking about running outside in the winter makes me SHUDDER, I know the weather now in April hasn't been ideal--afterall, it DID snow 2 days ago, seriously--but sweet christ I wouldn't want to go back to that time). We were in the last .5 miles of the run going down that hill on Oakland, and we were running next to each other rather than staggered. Well, unfortunately for me I was on the outside. And when it's snowy, you can't always see the curb, and where the sidewalk ends and drops off. Somehow I strayed too close to this edge, and half my foot caught curb, half my foot caught air. 100% of my ankle rolled. 100% of my person fell into the snow...hard. I wish I could have seen it, it was no less than a "comical fall" as in arms flailing, terrified look on the face, complete with a slight cracking sound from my ankle. Zach, of course, was horrified and worried. I jumped up (as people so when they're embarrassed) and just started bumbling "ha HA wow, how about that, let's finish the run, h-ha, man, what a fool I am..blahblahblah." He kept asking if I should run the rest of the way, but I was determined to prove I was fine (I don't know why). By the time we got back to my house and started our walking cool-down, I could feel something wasn't right. I fought through it until he left, then went to a full out limp. OH MY GOD IT HURT SO MUCH. I could barely stand on it. But the thing is, it didn't swell or bruise up. I stayed off it for like 4 days, and then it was fine. But still, yikes.

Anyhoo, after 1/2 mile I caught up to this unknown red running man, and sure enough, it was Zach! I must have scared him half to death with my arm slap coupled with "OHMYGODITHOUGHTTHATWASYOU!" since I had a good 5 minutes of build up trying to catch up with this guy. Turns out he was on a 10 mile run and he had 1 more mile to go. It happened to be in my route, so we ran that mile together. I can't tell you how much that 1 mile changed my feelings. I was a little overwhelmed thinking about doing the same route again, and having that extra mile with him, talking about nothing, took my mind off everything. By the time I dropped him off, I had 5.5 miles left to go. This is do-able.

I got to that same point at the the furthest part of the loop and it just hit me all at once. I. Am. Tired. And. My. Knees. Hurt. Ok, I can push through this, if I can get through this, I can run a marathon (right?). I pushed and pushed until I felt like I was running fumes. I kept checking my watch because I wanted to run at least 2:30 before I let myself walk (that was how long Clarke and I went for our 15 miles). I got to 2:23 and said screw it. I let myself walk for about a minute (maybe less, maybe more, we'll never know). The thing about letting yourself walk, or even being stopped at cross streets is that your body takes this time to tell you "HEY THIS PART OF YOUR BODY HURTS." And my knees were not quiet about their struggle. After pumping myself back up, I ran the rest and finished at 2:57. 17 miles. Booya.

When I finished my run on my ipod/nike program, Lance Armstrong came through my headphones saying "congratulations! This is your longest run yet!" and I don't know if it was how tired/hungry/battered I was, but I almost started crying when I heard that. I could feel a flood of tears rush to my eyes and I just felt so proud of myself. And then I got REALLY excited for the race itself. I am actually going to run it.

Then about 2 minutes later an older man stopped me and said he wanted to give me one of his poems. Now John always gets on me about how I can't not talk to someone like this. I didn't even try to talk to him, I was just too tired to say anything. This man then proceeded to talk to me about god and sinners for at least 6 minutes. He even said these words to me "I know times are changing, and I know that only God can judge you for wearing those tight pants." WHAT?! I was wearing running pants. I kept trying to leave but I didn't have the energy or strength to be polite. Finally I just walked away and said something about my muscles tensing up. I had to fight back tears, I was so upset about this encounter, and I'm sure it had to do with, again, RUNNING FOR 3 HOURS, and just being generally drained. I'm upset because I let this a%^hole get to me and interrupt my post-run euphoric walk. Next time, I'll just pretend my music is up too loud.

And then my knees hurt for 2 days, and I walked a little funny.

Wednesday, 6:30am, 5 miles. Overcast/rainy, chilly
I hate running in the morning. Hate it. But we have been having wine tastings with Michigan Wineries at one of our restaurants every Wednesday for the past few weeks, which I never make it to due to the running. The wine rep (Jenny Parker!) for this week's tasting--who is also training for the marathon--asked me if I'd be able to make it this week since, as I mentioned, I have yet to attend.

I mentioned the running to her, and then of course we went on a training-for-the-marathon-running-tips-tricks-stories route for a while, and she explained how she HAS to run in the mornings, or else it'd never get done. And let me just say, she is like Superwoman! She has so many events going on throughout Kalamazoo all the time involving beer and wine (DREAM JOB), and she's always there 100% and does amazing work. And she's training for the marathon. She is my idol. So I decided I would wake up early this morning, run a quick 5 miles before work, and make it to the tasting. If anything I'll at least complaining rights all day that "I woke up early and ran in crappy weather."

When was I going to bed I didn't really expect myself to go out, I was banking on my alarm going off, and me just setting it for later. But when I went off, it wasn't raining outside, my clothes were all laid out for me, and I was even a little chipper (confession: I think I went to bed at like 10:30 last night). Screw it, I'm running! And I did, and I was lovely (except for overdressing and being WAAY too hot, and being slightly misted by not-quite rain the entire time).

I got home and it was only 7:30am. I had time to leisurely get ready, and even made it in to work 30 min early. I will be at the Wine Tasting. Booya.

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