Showing posts with label recovery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label recovery. Show all posts

Friday, October 29, 2010

Problems in Your Own Head

Well, now that the road to physical recovery is semi-ending it was time for me to refocus and get back out there. Other than some residual pain, like a bruised heel-I felt good enough to run a week and a few days after the marathon. My ego was still really suffering though, any time I thought about the marathon this black hole started eating my stomach, and made me feel empty.


Living with that let down for a week was hard enough, so I knew I couldn't wait long to race again. Luckily, my sister and I already were planning on running the Gobbler Grind Half Marathon on November 21st. Having a race lined up is pretty key in getting over a bad race, but there's more to it. I've outlined some of my personal tips in getting over a poopy race for all my lovely readers:

Julia and Goliath's Ways of Getting Over a No-Good-Terrible-Awful-Downright-Bad-Race
1. Sign up for another: We went over this, but this will give you something to look forward to. It takes the edge off the sting because you KNOW there's another, which means another opportunity to rock.
2. Talk about it: When people ask you how your big day went, don't be afraid to tell them. Especially if they are runners, everyone has had a bad race. The beauty of being a runner is that every one's training peaks and troughs. Our troughs aren't what we tend to share, we are inclined to fudge our times, our mile splits, etc-but when you can look someone in the eye and honestly say "I didn't do my best," it gives you the vulnerability to accept comfort and advice.
3. Wear your shirt: Weather it was a 5k or an Ultra, wear your shirt the next day. You deserve to wear the shirt because you STARTED, not because you finished. Half of the mental race is getting the balls to get your but to the starting line. On lookers will see a runner in a race shirt, not someone who struggled to finish-and will envy your back full of sponsors.
4. Treat yourself: To a meal, to a massage, to a new pair of jeans. Anything. This may be some sort of instant gratification, but allowing yourself to splurge a little to overcome your mental anguish is pretty priceless isn't it?
5. Do not look at your training log more than once: Your inclination will be to look at your log and figure out where you went wrong. You'll agonize over every mile, every minute before the race-just trying to figure it out. Let it be. Look forward. Plan ahead, look at your next race as an opportunity to a clean your slate and succeed in training. Yes, it's important to evaluate and identify mistakes-but do not dwell on them.
6. Run: When you're ready, run again. Fall in love again. It's natural to be discouraged, and paralyzed with running fear. Find the motivation to just run again, for one mile or a few. Chances are you'll remember that you're not running for glory, it's bigger than that.
7. Cry, if you have to: Hey, it's a big deal. Don't be afraid to shed a tear. You looked forward to this day all year, you trained for six months. There's no shame in letting it out-silently, alone in a dark closet. No, I'm kidding-cry, real women cry. You're only allowed to cry once for a marathon: so chances are if you didn't cry at the finish line, you can do so later.


So there that is. Rest assured, I have tried all the above. They seem to work for me. Especially, number six. My first run back was a four mile, easy run with Emily in preparations for our half. We promised to take it slow, easy-but like that ever actually happens? We did a typical TBB out and back on the trail, without gadgets and just talked. It was pretty magical. I was totally gushing about my trail to Emily the last time we ran, and promised her she'd fall in love with it.

Sho' nuff. She did. There is just something about that trail, it totally has my heart. Other than my bed, it's my favorite place to be. Lucky for us, our upcoming half is ON THAT TRAIL! win. Love.
Everyone have a magical weekend! Don't forget Goliath still needs people for his Gang, so email us your doggie picture and story!!

Monday, October 25, 2010

You Know I Know How





Julia's Marathon Experience Part IV
So it's been a week. A full seven days since 26.2-and despite what Runner's World says: I feel fully recovered. I'm going to give you a run down of how my recovery week went though.




Immediate after the race: Collapsed in the grass aside the finish chute, I stood up and walked myself to the car. My mom drove me home, and walked me into my home. I stretched, not much-I should have done more. Showered. I watched a movie, and laid around until five. My husband took a three hour nap, and I gimped and paced around. Uneasy and uncomfortable, and unable to rest. I was tormented by my performance, and just by how things went. I desperately wanted to feel good about it-but I couldn't. I still don't. I'm embarrassed. Don't write me off, ok? I know it's ridiculous to feel this way, I finished I frickin' marathon-but I didn't do it the way I wanted to nor the way I deserved. I knew I not only could do better, but I DESERVED to do better. Not four hours had passed after crossing the finish line, I had already registered for another. It couldn't go down like that. I couldn't sit on this time, even though I swore I'd never do it again around mile 24.



Logan took me to Red Robbin that night, I totally maxed on the biggest burger of my life and bottomless steak fries. We talked about the race, he told me he was proud and I attempted to be happy about. After passing out for a few hours, I woke up at 3am scarfed down an oatmeal cream pie and sat up in bed just thinking about everything. I went through every step of training. I identified some mistakes and evaluated what I needed to do better for my next one.



The next day: I woke up after a long night of sleeping, and much to my surprise I wasn't sore. Like at all. Except for my jaw. I guess I sucked too much-ha get it! No I actually clinched my jaw through the whole race, and it was sore. I made pancakes for breakfast, cleaned up and watched football with my family. Logan and I took Goliath to the dog park later that afternoon, and met with some friends. I did some light stretching, and taped up my blisters. I ate a ton at dinner that night-post race carb loading is just as important as pre-race carbo loading!



My finisher shirt!


The rest of the week: I took it easy for the rest of the week even if I didn't feel like I needed to. I went to yoga on Wednesday, and did lots of walking throughout the week. Friday, I went in for a deep tissue sports massage-and that was more painful than the actual race itself. Apparently, my lactic scars are pretty intense. The therapist worked the crap out of my calves. Hilariously, I was more sore from that than the race the next day. Saturday, I volunteered at a 5k/10k race and got all energized to run again.


I have a half marathon in less than a month, that I'll start "training" for today and I'm already plotting out the next six months of racing.



After this post, we'll get the 12DoGA back up and running!

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

I run my life or is it running me?

It has been so hard not running for both of us. It's easier to run 50 miles a week, then it is to not. Two weeks off. Two weeks of nervous energy in Goliath. The only good thing about taking two unintentional weeks off is the rest was beneficial for my tibias. They feel good, and ready to kick out some kilometers.


Goliath has been the only one logging any sort of mileage, and even his has been sub par. We've tripped to the dog park, but I haven't felt up to walking around too much and there's never any other dogs there for him to play with. It's been bitterly cold, but he needs that little bit of freedom.


We both look a little maniacal, but then again so is going to the dog park in ten degree weather.


I've ceased all pain killers. I can't deal with the dizziness. I'd rather be in pain, and running. So that's what I did. It is unbelievably excruciating to have free time and not be able to spend it running. I think of my time in mileage these days. Like, seven loads of laundry would take me like eight hours or 50 miles. I'd rather run 50 miles. Straightening my hair takes twenty minutes, that's 2 miles. I'd rather run 2 miles. So when I sit on my butt for an hour, doing nothing but catching up on sitcoms, I think to myself: Wow, you just wasted 6 miles.


Not wanting to waste anymore miles, Goliath and I hit our trail. And get this-I was nervous! Like worried I wouldn't even be able to run a mile. Seriously. It was a weird pinned up mental nervousness. The kind you get before a big test, I know I've taken a test before but what if this one's different.


After a half mile, I was flying. Like a bird. My love. Magic. If my fragments aren't enough of a clue, going out today was the best thing for me. For my body, my mind and my pup. We needed this. The miles passed too quickly, I pushed myself and told myself that this is the sport my body was made to do. It's exciting to be back, and I can't wait to start focusing on my diet again.



Tired of water and dog pictures yet? Too bad, my blog.

I've posted this everywhere, so if you've seen it sorry-but this IS my running and weight loss-esque blog. So, here's my newest progress photos:


Today's Mileage: 4.1
Time: 38:43