Today was a GOOD day

Yesterday I ran my long run for the week with Sports Backers Marathon Training Team.

HELLZ TO THE YEAH!  

I haven't RUN MTT in a long time.  Wow.  A long time.  I forgot how cool it feels to join a pack and run with 890 other like minded people.  I forgot how fun it is to listen to the people around you talk about running.  To see 100 familiar faces.  To search through a thousand and miss one.  To yell at Those People.

And yesterday I remembered what it feels like to borrow the collective energy of a thousand people to run through the streets.

I ran with TMB, SpeeDee, and Amy.  T & I share a brain.  We run in step.  If one of us pulls away, the other knows they'll be back.  If one of us walks, the other walks without comment usually because we are thankful to be walking for a few steps.  And there were a few walk breaks - thank god.

The air was thick yesterday.

We had some course discussions and such.  We made new friends... sort of...  In fact, some DUDE offered to give me ADVICE on cutting THIRTY MINUTES OFF MY MARATHON PR. (insert laughing here)
He said this without asking my current PR.
He said this knowing nothing about me or my running history.
Maybe I should have given him my number... I guess, I mean, after all, who wouldn't want to get a BQ in October... also, there will be a follow up post for the men folk who read this blog on "how not to pick up a runner at marathon training team".

Moving forward, I'm not 100% sure I'm convinced that my SATURDAY TEAM is the RIGHT TEAM for me, but I'm going to give it a try for a few weeks.  I intentionally chose a team that is training to race SLOWER than my original GOAL.

Why
would 
you 
do 
that?

Well.  When I decided to race a marathon in 2014 I didn't realize I wasn't going to get "better".  I had some idea that I was chasing a SUB 4:00 GOAL.  Right now I am chasing a FINISH WITHOUT HATING YOURSELF FOR RUNNING A MARATHON GOAL.

I don't know what I can and can't do with my lungs in this condition, and being left behind by the pack week after week while gasping for air is scary, disheartening and depressing.  Or is it defeating?  Regardless, I'm not going to be d'anything'd when I have the power to make new friends and run a touch slower on my long runs each week as needed.

Sometimes when you put 80 people who run in a group, everyone spends their long runs RACING each other.  I'm not even kidding.  I love MTT, but this is a truth of Marathon Training Team.  I chose my team because I have a prayer of keeping up with Team En Feugo, and I don't want to be sucking wind on my long runs trying catch up to people who are determined to leave me.  A slower team will ensure that I am running my long pace runs at a slower pace.

In theory.  Yesterday around mile 5 I had a break away where I maybe got a little ahead of myself.  whoops.  By mile 6 I was sad...

So yesterday I ran 9 miles on my road to my October marathon.  I struggled a little, but my chest never hurt.  It wasn't the best run ever, but it was a good run because it was with people I love.  It was "The Previously stated Goal" MRP + 50 seconds.  Not bad, considering the walk breaks sprinkled in.

Today I couldn't sleep.  I'm studying for boards and I woke up really early.  I thought, I know what to do with this energy.  I hopped in my car and headed downtown to meet the SUNDAY teams of MTT for 6 miles.

And here is why today was SO VERY VERY GOOD:
I ran hard, and didn't have any kind of breathing trauma or crisis afterwards.  NONE.  I didn't feel like I was straining beyond the stretch of a hard run.  I didn't feel like an asthmatic.  I didn't feel my airway collapsing or narrowing.

I felt like a runner!

I averaged an (insert pace here) for 6 miles!!!  I ran in the (insert pace here)'s for the first 3 miles with a fast friend, and then I backed off and ran the rest with a new friend, Not Clinton, who said, "Yay!  You can run with me next week!"  She was supportive, unbothered by my loud breathing, and likes dogs - which since I have a new puppy - works for me.  It was Original Goal MRP - 29 seconds.

Part of me is like, I can't wait for next week, to hop on the MTT train and ride the wave.  But the other part, the part that knows today was special, says, make sure you savor what it felt like today.

And I do.

~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.

That Time

Remember that time I graduated from Nursing School Today?

Yeah.

Me FREAKING too.

Me too!

"Mom, don't forget to sign me up for my first Triathlon."

Huh?  What?

"Yeah.  I want to do it.  You said I could."

Ok....

And that just happened Tuesday.  So B'nut is racing in her first Triathlon this weekend.  She's nervous.  I'm nervous.  It's a lot of nervousness here.  I'll post a race re-cap after the event tomorrow (Saturday, 5/17).

The Things We Do

Without going into too much detail, The Good Dr had a Bad Cycling Weekend two weekends ago.  It just wasn't his day.  We all know what that's about.  Anyone who's ever participated in an athletic event knows that there are those days that just aren't your day.  It doesn't mean you are less than amazing, it just means you may have had a less than amazing day.

So when The Good Dr was beat up by his bike, I suggested that he do something completely crazy like go for a bike ride to shake it off.

True story.

Not only that, I suggested he go for a nice reasonable distance like 100 miles.  "No problem, you've got this".  Ride from Richmond to Williamsburg and back.

sure.

Now, the ironic thing about this is that I convinced him that this was a good idea because I said I would go with him all the way.  For the whole 100 miles.

Never mind that I had only ridden a season long ride of 57 miles, and that I was possibly not trained enough to ride 100 miles.

about 1/2 way and we were still having FUN with "Fran",
"Whit", "Bueller? Bueller?" and "Birch".

Thus became the day that I decided to answer the question of "How much training does a person need to ride a Century?" and also, "Where does 'mental toughness vs the wall' reach the point of futility?"

It was a stellar day on Saturday.  Beautiful weather - overcast and warm, but not blistering hot.

We connected with some folks and knocked out a seriously fun 56 or so miles complete with laughs, rest stops, donuts and blue sports drink.

Around 57ish or so, a piece of lawn debris flew off a mower and got in my eye, so I was riding with one eye ball squeezed shut.

My (cough) *valentine* hurt. My eye hurt.  My leg was cramping.  My stomach was rolling.  I had chills and goosebumps.

It was as though the WHEELS FELL OFF THE WAGON.

I realized that I was DOWN on liquid.

Physically my body was trying to SHUT DOWN, and my mind was TOTALLY ON BOARD with that idea, it was the best idea I had EVER HAD, and if I kept riding, my brain kept insisting that BAD THINGS WOULD HAPPEN.

I had to stop and pour water in my eye at the next rest stop until the piece of debris was out (it was a piece of a leaf - OUCH).  When that was resolved, I sat down and sipped on some blue liquid and took inventory.

It's 106 miles to Chicago.... We've got a full a tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark and we are wearing sunglasses". 

My options...

I could lay down in the dirt and take a nap.

I could ride about 12mph for about 9 miles to the next rest stop and see if I sipped liquid the whole way if that would return me to homeostasis.

Or I could sit on my a** and rest for about 15-20 minutes and see if sipping on blue liquid would return me to homeostasis.

Hit it.

I said to Scott, "I have this friend who did a tri a few years ago, and even when she was falling apart, she just kept going.  I'm going to need to Dash from here to the next water stop.  If I'm still completely in bad shape, I will consider getting a ride back on the SAG wagon."

I hopped on my bike (read: awkwardly crawled onto the bike while praying that no one was looking)
Took yet another salt tablet.
Ate a GU even thought I didn't want to.
And pedaled.

I knew in order to finish this event in time, I was going to need to PULL THIS TOGETHER.  And, there were forecast thunderstorms coming.  We were going to need to race the weather.  Only I couldn't make my legs move.

The storms over Rocketts Landing

It was MIND OVER MATTER.

So, I Dash'd to the next stop.  And it wasn't speedy, but it was functional.  We rolled about 14mph.

It was a long 9 miles.  But I sipped the entire way.  In all, about 40 oz of salted sugar water (honest to god, that's what the blue stuff started tasting like) in those short miles.

At the next stop, I really did suddenly feel better.  "OK, I'm ready".

We Finished!

We hopped out on the road.  It wasn't blistering.  The Good Dr was patient and pulled me or let me pull as needed.


A pace line came up beside us, and as the last cyclist was parallel to me, I geared up and stepped on the pace.  A few minutes later, we were cruising around 18mph with a group.

I just thought, "I need to borrow some of their energy for a few minutes".  And that's what we did.

At the next stop we refilled our bottles quickly, and jumped on a line with a few more strangers.  And cruised back to our car, riding the last few alone.

It was nice, honestly, to ride those last few miles with The Good Dr.

He was strong, and I knew he didn't regret riding 100 miles.  I could tell.

The Celebratory Dinner

After we finished and snacked, a HUGE thunderstorm was eminent on the horizon, so we went home, showered, and went to a "Nursing School is Finally Finished and I rode 100 miles today on my Bike" Celebratory Dinner.

I'd do Cap to Cap next year.  The course was 100 times more wonderful than the Tour De Richmond course, and all in all, it was a great time... except for the part where I wanted to take a dirt nap, but those are the details we tend to forget as soon as the event is over.

~savor the ride, respect the distance~

I love Non-Runners

I love Non-Runners.

"Have fun running Boston!!!"

Oh, thanks, but I'm not running.  I have a lot a friends running though.

"Thats great!  I hope they win!"

Yes... I'm sure my friends running Boston would be very surprised if they won....

Congrats to my friends who ran today!  (<~ even though they didn't win)

IM Deferred

I'm deferring my Half IM.

I just can't train enough in the weeks that are left to get myself to the start line.

This semester I had to put my eye on the prize... and the prize is graduation.

Oh yeah.

42 days till graduation.  Not that anyone's counting.