Last night, LL's newest rescue came to play with Goliath-and finally a worthy companion for Goliath's energy.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Last night, LL's newest rescue came to play with Goliath-and finally a worthy companion for Goliath's energy.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Miles 7-9: This is when things started getting pretty tough, but just when Emily was ready to throw up we saw our Mommmm! She's magnificent, ain't she? Always there just when we need her. I tossed her my shirt, and Emily stopped and hugged her. This was on a giant uphill that lied and said was the worst hill of the course. This stint is a square of roads, you turn right and go up turn right again go uphill, turn right and go uphill and finally turn right but go down hill. Logan was at mile 9 with Goliath. There was an aid station right before we met them, and the volunteers were like "dude that dog is REALLY going crazy now!!" hah, it's because he could see us! Logan jogged along with us, I got to run a little with G. We got on that downhill, and got a second wind.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Why? Because I wanna.
Tuesday, I had the day off from work and so I leisurely work up, drank coffee, had breakfast and took Goliath out on the trail. As of late, running means scheduling in mileage and making sure I have enough time to get the miles in-which means pressure and stress to get the miles done. Sometimes pressure is good, but stress isn't. I don't like have exactly an hour to get a solid six miles in, it stresses me out. If something goes wrong, a cramp or a spill I'm screwed and may run the risk of being late for work. Not on Tuesday, we hit the trail with no goal.
This is a little spot on the trail, that the photograph doesn't do any justice. The picture looks warped but it's a steep slope followed by a steep hill. It's totally brutal in the winter, but on Tuesday Goliath and I went half way down, took a left and explored around it.
So there that is: Ten Mile Tuesday
In other news, Goliath's Gang is looking pretty awesome! I got a lot of families added the other night, and I'm still working on it, so take a look-and make sure you email us your story.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Saturday was the Fall Girls on the Run 5k, I signed up to volunteer. I
swear if I don't run this as a coach, I will always be volunteering.
If y'all don't know what GOTR is google it or look up the Spring 5k
recap in the blog history.
It's an amazing organization, that I really wish I had the time to be
more involved with. For now, I will just have to be a course monitor
twice a year. It was wicked cold, the wind was absolutely frigid. If I
hadn't promised to be there I would not have been outside, let alone
running in it. More than half of those girls looked absolutely
miserable. Lucky for me, the runners had to pass through my
intersection three times. The evolution of misery as the miles passed
was such a beautiful metaphor. On their third pass, they were in the
finish chute-and seeing them realize "hay! It's over and it wasn't
THAT bad!" was totally legendary. Why? Because no matter how many
races you do, no matter how good you get: you always feel that way in
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Tuesday, November 09, 2010
Holy Moly, has it really been since October 29 since I've updated. I apologize to all 113 legit followers and 100+ anonymous daily hits. You guys know the story, it's the same old same old-I was just wicked busy.
Well what can I say? We are a little over a week away from the Grind Half Marathon. I am SO excited. It's going to be so fun. It's on my home turf, it's with my best friend-my sister, and we've been having the best time training together. Our long runs have become "Miles and Bagels" Saturday. We are having a hard time picking out what we should wear? Suggestions? We want to match, and we want to get a little crazy. If you suggest something, and we wear it-you'll get a prize. So get to online shopping ;)
Speaking of costumes, are you guys ready to hear about my next marathon? Ok you are?
Once I get caught up, we'll move on to the next giveaway-but in the meantime if you have any questions or post topics you'd like to see discussed on TBB please email us at our newly set up and totally official blog email:
Friday, October 29, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, October 25, 2010
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!
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!
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Ok, here you go-perhaps the most anticipated part of the marathon experience-and definitely the longest: RACE DAY.
I dropped him off, and ate a cliff bar on my way to the race since there was no time to eat my oatmeal. I tried to shake off nervous energy to some songs, but a mile away from my exit I found myself stuck in traffic-which hey happens with 11,000+ try to get to one place. I had originally planned on leaving earlier to avoid this situation, but the dead acura foiled me. I inhaled and exhaled and said Today, you run a marathon-it's going to be ok, you'll get there. I sat there for 45 minutes just trying to get OFF the highway. Then Eric texts me that parking took forever, and that's when the real panic set in. It was now 7:00, and I wasn't off the highway and guntime was in 30 minutes.
By the grace of God, I finally exited but only to sit at more lights and I knew I wasn't going to have enough time to park in the designated lot so I cruised downtown KC looking for an open spot on the street. Of course most were taken, so I resolved to park in a spot that may have been illegal. I geared myself up, threw my belongings in the trunk because I knew I didn't have time for bag/gear check and took off for the start line which was about 2.5 miles from there. I arrive, out of breath and more nervous then ever. Did I mention 30 minutes ago I realized I had to pee? It's now 7:20 and almost all the runners are in their corrals and lined up with their pacers-but guess who's frantically searching for port-a-potties? me. I couldn't find one and the anthem was starting. Crap. I had found Megan and Sofia, they wished me luck and I resolved to just use a bathroom along the course and take the time penalty.
The first mile seemed to crawl by and I still couldn't shut off my brain. There were so many people who I knew running this race, and I seemed to run into them every so often, they clinch my shoulder or wave to get my attention-wish me luck and then pass me. In the second mile, we made our way up a hill that according to my garmin was a ascent of 504 feet. It just seemed to go on and on and on. I confidently forged this hill, I remember thinking "uhm yeah hill repeats what's up." Atop the hill there were hundreds of people gathered to cheer, the hill we had just climbed was Kansas City's famous Liberty Memorial Hill. With all these people, and balloons it seemed like some political rally. Overwhelming really, I looked at all the faces. Now, it's all blurry but running through it I could see everyone so vividly. I scanned each face, looking for a familiar one. Then I saw bathrooms...then I saw the line. I decided I could wait and pressed forward.
After mile 13, Eric told me to go ahead my legs were turning to stones and I knew walking wasn't doing me any favors. I struggled onward, it kept me going knowing that Logan and my mom were ahead somewhere. Then it hit again, the emesis lightning bolt. Numb arms, bent over perpendicular to the group and revisiting my strawberry-banana GU, if you know what I mean. I stood back up, walked if off and kept going. All these stops, all these attitude adjustments-all these things were totally harshing my marathon experience. I kept wondering: Where's my magic? Where's my emotional breakthrough? I wanted to be able to soak every ounce of this, every inch of the 26.2 and all I could focus on is how I wanted this over. I so badly wanted it to end, but it was a marathon-they are like never ending, and that's kinda the point.
What killed me was that at mile 13.1 we didn't turn around and started heading toward the finish. That makes sense no? Apparently that's psychologically too easy. We had to run another 4 miles south and make a hypotenuse like return to the origin. That messed with my head so bad, it's so easy for me to mentally tackle a split on an out and back-but for some reason I just couldn't do the math on this. Yeah, I had reviewed the course before but it's a whole 'notha story once you're out there. Mile 16 came and this is when things started getting really real. The crowds had thinned, but there were still people along the way: high school cheer squads, volunteers and neighbors-everyone. The runners now were more spread out, and now each time you'd pass they could see your bib and cheer you on personally. I felt like the most pathetic celebrity alive, they'd say my name and it felt good and shameful at the same time. These strangers kept telling me to keep going and sharing in one of the most vulnerable moments of my life. I have never ever felt so weak, so tired and so sick and here they were telling me I was strong and to take it home.
I kept trying to think of certain monuments to look forward to, to keep me going. I knew where people would be and knowing that would keep me running temporarily. I couldn't hold my pace for very long, but every time I'd stop I would at least try to start again. Right after 16 passed, I saw my family including my sister in the distance. They all had signs, they were screaming their heads off. I wanted their energy. I wanted it refuel me but more than anything I wanted to stop and let them sweep me off the course. I kept going, anyway-but I admit, I really really didn't want to.
The next few miles were about the same, equally tough but I started a new battle with fatigue. I literally started falling asleep while running. I would forcing myself to run, and my eyes would droop and I felt like I could just nod off. I fought this giant internal war to not take a nap, you can not nap and run and finish a marathon. The muscle fatigue in my core was no better even, and right around mile 18 I started feeling full on muscle failure in my obliques and transabdominals. They vibrated like they were receiving texts messages, and holding myself up became a chore-but throwing up a third time was even more of a chore. Mile 19 came, and I saw volunteer friend Scott who I think could see things weren't going right. I tried to choke out that I've been puking to offer up an explanation-but I'm pretty sure my face was reason enough. He told me to take it home and I started to count down the miles.
I figured that once I saw mile 20, maybe I'd be able to just have this complete out of body experience and have the last SIX MILES flash forward. FAIL Worst assumption ever. Mile 20 is when things only got really more realer. My family was starting to get worried that I wouldn't finish in under 6 hours, and until that point I had never even thought about it. They shouted at me how much time I had left to get those last six miles in-and I thought Today, you FINISH a marathon. I had to finish, but I couldn't help be discouraged. How did this happen? How had things gone so wrong? How did I go from a 4:15 to worrying about making the 6 hour time limit? This is what I had trained for? This is what the last three months had been all about?
Oh that's right? He then said "Guess what? In less then 6 minutes you'll be able to sit down" Glory!
Finished. That was it. Where were my tears? I still just couldn't let go. I think part of it was I didn't want to waste my tears on such an experience I was totally unsatisfied with-but I think it was largely due to dehydration. I gathered my medal, my finished shirt, and some food that I knew I wasn't going to be able to eat. I walked away from the shute and found the closest patch of grass and just laid down.
It was finally over. I finished in 5:48 and some change, a full hour and thirty minutes off my goal time. I did everything right in training a prep, but when you mentally wear yourself down and your luck plays out like a series of unfortunate event, it happens. I wanted to badly to be happy with finishing, but in my heat I felt cheated. I wanted better, and I know it's natural to be slightly disappointed. I knew I had to do some major reflection on accomplishment and the like. So I returned home from the race to do so.