The Year of the 5K: Day 1

I love data.  I love it.  I like to look at metrics and trends.  Of course, the ONLY way to look at trends is to A) Set a baseline for comparison.  B) Collect data.

Today I ran my first 5K of my Year of the 5K.  It’s been a LONG time since I’ve raced a 5K.  I figured the best way to launch my Year of the 5K was to just run one cold to see where I am.

5K's hurt. But let's not skip ahead.

I selected a Richmond Road Runners Contract Race that benefited a local YMCA charity.  I like running the club or contract races because I feel like they’re well organized.  Also, the course is one I’ve run a few times, so I am familiar with it and knew the topography.

Since it was less than two weeks since Steamtown Marathon, I wore my marathon race shirt.  I figured that way, if I was slow, I was at least wearing a shirt that proved I’m a badass.

I arrive early, registered, and ran about a mile warm up with some high knees and butt kick drills, as well as a few pick ups.

I decided to run without a watch today and just go on effort.  The goal was to run at “Max” effort for as long as I could.  I lined up a little off the start line because I knew I wasn’t going out to win it.

It wasn’t awful.  It was miserable.  It hurt like a ‘mo-fo’, or a 5K, whichever actually hurts worse.  I had a good time.  I chased down a guy ahead of me, dropped the girl tailing me, and in all ran about what I expected.  Ok... ok, I ran 1+ minutes faster than I expected.  Pulled out a 26:15, thought I would run around a 28:ish. 

5^th female overall, 2^nd in AG.  It was a small race, but I’ll take it.

My IT band is still a bit sore as it turns out.  Who knew?

Anyways.  I’ve now got a baseline upon which to set my standard.  The goal is a 5K about every month or so.  

Also, have I mentioned that 5K’s hurt?

~savor the run~

Balloons

Imagine for a minute that you are a very dedicated recreational runner.  You wake up at Oh-dark thirty to run.  You run in all weather.  When other people bow out because of rain, you put on the running shoes that are dedicated to rainy days.  You fit your running into your schedule, or maybe, you schedule your life around your run.  

Whichever it is, running is something that you use as part as your identity, and, when out at parties or social events, if people ask what you do, you struggle between your occupation and the statement, “I’m a runner”.

That is me. 

I love my run.  I have blogged about it, written about in magazines, studied it in the wealth of information available in Pubmed, and written an 18 page paper about it in my recent endeavor to obtain a Bachelors degree.  I volunteer.  I lead.  I coach.  I sit on the sidelines during injury and recover, and then I build back to my run when I can.

My run is part of my being.  I am because I run.

Last spring my being was struck down with pneumonia and other strange illnesses.  It was an entire year ago.  I did rounds of antibiotics, steroids, ER visits, breathing treatments, and inhalers.  I was assured by my primary care physician that in a few months I would be back to the health of a normal human, and after a few more months I would be back on the run like the “old days”.

A year after I was told that, I was not “back”.

When I run, I do not have enough air to be comfortable.

So, I sat down and talked with a friend who is a medical Doctor, and what she said really startled me.  I had one of those “Oh shit.  Is this really my life?” moments.  All my ideas of how my run and I would continue into our old age were completely false.  My dreams of happily ever after were dashed, and I felt my identity slowly deflating like a leaking balloon.  After our conversation I went to my Doctor for a second opinion.

That was a bit like choosing to pay a $25 co-pay to get kicked in the face on a Tuesday morning.

My physician started out using big medical terms that I was only a little familiar with, like alveoli and atelectasis.  By the end of the conversation we had moved into very familiar words like scar tissue and disappointment.  

I was a little angry. 

That bitch.  How dare she!  Doesn’t she know that I am a runner?

“No one is going to tell me I will never get my full lung function back.  I will prove her wrong.”  So I pushed myself into some speed work and hill training.  I obsessed over the splits in my watch, willing them to get faster each week.  They didn’t.

From there, I moved into denial.  “If I keep training, I can get it back.  If I try a new medication, the inflammation will go away.  If I race a 5K.  If I....” 

So, I kept training, and the people I run with ran with me.  They listened to the sounds of my airway narrowing as we ran.  They heard me struggle.  They looped back to pick me up like the good running partners they are, but they could not help me run faster.  

My lactic threshold is low when I run.  I can't clear the acid from my body via my respiratory system, so I become acidic fast.  I can't get enough oxygen into my cells to fuel them, so I become acidic fast.  

Together this is bad.

The struggling, the heaviness of my breath, the pain in my accessory muscles all remained.  I even gave up foods that cause inflammation, to run faster.  There are those who would call that bargaining.

Currently I’m hovering between acceptance and depression.  My identity as a runner has always been tied to my ability to get better.  I knew that all I had to do was improve by XYZ amount of time over XYZ number of years, and I would be a Boston Qualifier.  I have won a few races, but that wasn’t where the glory is for me.  I wanted to shave about 23 seconds off my 5K, 38 seconds off my 8K, and 65 seconds off my 10K.  I always believed that if I trained well, ate smart, and was focused on realistic goals, I could do it.

Only, I am being told that I need to accept that not only might that never happen, I may never even match those personal bests again.  I have likely peaked.

So why do all this if I can’t ever achieve my goals?

Why get up at four-something in the morning to meet my running group?  Why have three pairs of shoes floating around the house at all times incase of rain or trail running?  What am I ever going to get out of this, if I can’t get faster?

Still, this morning, I got up at four-something.  I fumbled around in the dark for a pair of pink Brooks and a running skirt.  It was so humid that my freakishly amazing t-shirt stuck to my damp skin as soon as I pulled it on.  I left my watch sitting on my dresser.  I don’t need it.  There will be no examining splits or data, because if I’m never going to get faster, I don’t need to worry about that right now.  I need to be present in the body that I have, and be thankful for all it does for me.

So, today could not be about speed.  Todays run was about putting in the miles for my fall marathon.  I don’t know how to train without a “Break 4 hours” goal, but for the moment, I am just going to lay down the miles the best way I can, and savor the run.

And get a third opinion.  Just in case.

A long, long time ago...

As a child of the 70’s, its natural that I would grow up to be a runner.  Don’t get me wrong.  No one in my family actually ran in the 70’s.  I didn’t spend my Saturdays watching my dad wander in after a long run, nor did I ever see my mother do any running that wasn’t on a soccer field.  But the principles of running - humility, patience, effort and never giving up were ingrained into me from a very young age.

When I grew up, I knew exactly what I wanted to be, and sorry, runner was way down on the list.  Way down.  Because who would want to do that, when there were limitless possibilities in the galaxy? 

My goal was to be a Jedi Knight.

When you are calm and at peace, everything becomes clear.

Of course, instead of knighthood and the force I grew up to be another casualty of motherhood.  A beige mini-van driving mother of many, barely hanging onto my sanity while managing multitasking feats of greatness.  Or, if not greatness, at least of multiple tasks. 

One afternoon I mused aloud that maybe instead of developing an eye twitch, I should develop a hobby.  A friend of mine was a marathoner, so that seemed like a logical step.  Running.  Not marathoning.

Of course, what happened next is what happens in all the movies.  Someone, who will remain nameless (and alive because of it) told me off hand that I could never be a runner.  Dude.  I might have accepted I can never be a Jedi Knight.  But now I am supposed to accept that I can’t be a runner?

“Yeah, probably you’re right”. I knew I would most likely fail.  I had a proven track record of failure.  True.  I mean that literally, not figuratively.  I actually failed on the track at the Presidential Mile in High School.

I knew it was probably an exercise in stupidity.  But that sort of obstacle had never stopped me before.  And that didn’t stop Luke from rescuing Princess Leah.  Imagine that film for a minute.  George (Lucas) turns to Carrie (Fisher), “Sorry, we’re cutting your part.  Seems like it’s an exercise in futility to have this farm boy come in and save you from execution… so…” (as he makes a slashing motion with his hand across his neck).

Truly though, I love that running has brought me in contact with some of the most humble people.   Individuals who understand that effort is more important than time, and than having a good time is sometimes more vital to success than getting a good time.  Sometimes these are even the same people who "get me", and they get that I’m competitive to a fault, and they forgive me when I forget these Yoda-esque principals.

Runners, for the most part, are humble, patient, and wise.  The ones I run with know, that for me, giving up isn’t really an option.    

Well.  Giving up isn’t really an option if your goal is running related.  If you’re going to set your sights on Jedi Knighthood…  maybe having a back up plan is a good idea.

~ savor the run ~

Three Things Thursday: Yoda edition

1)  "Much to learn you still have."...  every time I look at my blank April training schedule I have to consider how much I don't know.  It's a freaking. lot.  I have about 18 sources of training plans ~ at least 4 of which are human and GBA.  So while there's a part of me who wants to try this on my own, there's another part of me that knows better....  April is about building the base.

2)  "You will know... when you are calm, at peace, passive...."  I recently spectated the National Marathon.  After I sent the runners off to run their races, I had almost two hours to burn.  I went to my car, sat down, and pouted for a minute about my "lost marathon".  But I had Ethics to read, and thoughts to occupy me, a phone that communicates with e-mail ~ plenty to do for a student.  What I did however was read an excerpt from a book unrelated to Ethics class, and meditate on what I had read.

The passage I read was, essentially, about circumstances in our lives beyond our control, and how we choose to live through them.  As I sat in my beige mini-van I decided ~ "I have a choice.  I will choose to have the Best Day Ever."  And it was.  It didn't go to plan, but then, what does?  It had some rough spots, have you run a marathon?  I could only "do" so much for the girls who were running, as running is a solo sport, but I gave them everything I could.  I made the choice to have a great day, and I did.  I can choose my reaction and my attitude...

3) "No!  Do, or do not.  There is no try." ~ and I have to wonder, don't you think that if Luke had said, "Tri" and not "try", that Yoda would have had a different response?  Of course, maybe Yoda meant Du...   Either way, I'm TRI-ing in May, on my 35th Birthday, thanks to a totally GBA birthday gift from SpeeDee.