Showing posts with label marathon training. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marathon training. Show all posts

Sunday, January 31, 2010

Nowhere to Run


Running in worn out shoes can be likened to having surgery without being anesthetized. You might think you're tough enough to take the pain, that your sheer power of will can overcome anything. In the end, you'll regret opting out of pain killers, be in more pain than when you started and only have a long recuperation to face. I learned that lesson the very painful way, and not wanting another semester of pain I invested in new shoes.

The Nike Factory store is like my field of dreams, my candy store. By no means am I label whore-but I am when it comes to Nike, and yes-I know it's not high end. It fits my lifestyle: cheap, and decent quality. I can safely put 300+ miles on Bowermans without risking injury, and I could not ask for more from a shoe that's not custom and under $60. Friday my super-sweet Husband bought me new Bowermans and a Nike Sport kit, since my first kit pooped out after Goliath chewed it up.

Here they are: originally $130, purchases for $49.99:


Snow is on the ground here, again. With new shoes, I know ultimately they will get dirty and wet, especially in the weather I force myself to run in, but I couldn't bring myself to go out on a tempo in them yesterday. Instead, I skipped training altogether to continue with my recent running sin pattern. Although I should be, I'm not worried.

This week, I will be top loading my marathon training because of vacation. I'm well aware top loading can be dangerous in the sense of taking too many days off at the end of the week may lose fitness. Although I should be, I'm not worried.

Goliath and I went out for our tempo run this afternoon, and after running the half mile to our trail we saw eight of so tweens playing on their bicycles in the snow. Not wanting to disturb their little party on the run/hike trail, we turned around and went home, after all the run/hike trail shouldn't be used for running or hiking. I finished my work out on a treadmill, and took Goliath to the dog park for his.


I got sweaty, he got muddy and in the end we both got baths. Speaking of getting clean, I found eleven of Goliath's toys hidden in the lining of my couch. How does he do it?


Today's Mileage: 3.1, 5k (runs combined)
Time: 23:45

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

A Pain that Buckles out Your Knees

Yesterday's run really made today's eight a lot harder. My legs are exhausted, and my shoes are pushing 380 miles. I haven't pushed that mileage on our trail since running the Gobbler Grind in November. It was motivating to remember that the last time I paced through those woods was when I completed my first marathon.



Our scenery improves as the foliage turns green, and the animals come out. When the grass gets tall, Goliath likes to chomp at it and cut his own path. Some days I would be so focused, I wouldn't notice that he'd found some carcass and was proudly strutting it alongside me. Little puppy Goliath found a lot gross things, including snakes. He's such a prey driven dog, that anything that moves along our path catches his attention and needs inspection. The milliseconds where he decides to attack or ignore are priceless. His stance gets wide, and his neck elongates. The ears perk, and twitch like radar.


I get a little intimidated at our splits. My mind gets caught up in the pain in my knees, the muscles that are now bricks and how raw my lungs are. Then the thought of "I'm only halfway finished," enters my head and suddenly I feel exponentially exhausted. Suddenly, I mentally don't think I can do it. Regardless of what the total mileage is, it could be 2 or it could 15, I feel this way.

At 4.1, I collapsed into the grass to stretch. Our scheduled two minute split became a five minute rest. It was laughable: me sprawled out in the grass while he darted in and out of the tall weeds. Smart money says that for every mile I log, Goliath doubles it. I couldn't even get him to sit still for this:



Today's Mileage: 8.3
Time: 1:20:18

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Faceplant in an iceberg


I have been wanting to blog for a while now, and until this morning I never thought I had anything interesting to discuss, explain and/or teach. That was until this morning when I found myself nose deep in a pile of muddy snow with Goliath sitting patiently waiting for me to get up.

Meet Goliath:

He's a one year-old German Boxer and Siberian Husky mix. He joined my family in December of 2008, at 5lbs and 6 weeks old. He's now a little over 60lbs and loves peanut butter by the pint, tearing sheets and three feet long raw hides. More than anything though, he loves to run. His Husky family tree is most likely full of Iditarod champions, because something about a leash with someone/something on the end triggers a long-lasting-never-ending energy surge. What is he pulling?

Me:
I'm a 22 year-old human. With little money and little time, I started running in December, 2008 tipping the scales at a little over 170lbs. Figuring that all I needed was sneakers and pavement, now 30lbs lighter I run marathons and log an average of 30 miles a week. I, also, love peanut butter by the pint, purchasing new sheets and hunting for world's biggest raw hide. My family tree is full of educationally decorated individuals, competitive athletes and America's finest shoppers.

So you see? We make a pair. We feed each others needs. When Goliath is hungry, three cups of food in the bowl. When I need motivation, he pulls me six miles.

The boskyblog will take you on our whirlwind adventures during marathon training, dog park jaunts and everything along the way, including this morning's faceplant into compacted snow.

There has been record snow fall this year in Kansas City to Goliath's delight, and when the ground is white the leash is off. There is no controlling this snow obsessed maniac. This week has been the first week in over a month where the sidewalks are clear enough, and devoid of ice where the leash can be worn and the yak traks are no longer needed.

We logged 5.8 miles without any hiccups, no major arm amputations or squirrels on the trail we frequent. It was around 5.8 on a half mile-long uphill did we come across a molehill of plowed snow. Now, I don't know how big molehills typically run but this one was about two feet high and three fee wide, polka dotted with car splattered mud and whatever else.

It was upon this "snowhill" did we face an Oregon Trail decision: go around it? or forge the river?

Guess what Goliath decided? He jumped, I fell.

Today's Mileage: 6.2 Miles, 10k
Time: 1:08:02