The Slacker's Guide to Half Marathon Training

I potentially made a very stupid decision about 4-6 weeks after coming home with Rhet.  I decided to train for the one and only long distance race that I have ever run: the St Jude Half Marathon.  (I'm starting to lose count, but I think I've run the half four times and the full once since 2004.)

It's not that I dislike other races...it's just that I'm poor and lazy.  (Too much money and energy to travel anywhere besides Memphis for a race.)  In fact, Nick thinks I'm crazy, but I would love to run the Nike Women's Marathon in San Francisco one day.

The St Jude half is perfect.  The training season starts just as the weather is starting to cool off.  It ends just as the weather is getting really cold.  Perfect race day weather starts in the low-40's and finishes in the mid-50's.  Plus, running for a cause (for THIS cause) is about as great as it gets.

But let's revisit the notion of my potentially stupid decision.

The half marathon sold out in July.  (I was residing in a different country at the time, so I could have cared less.)  Not long after returning to Memphis, I started getting the race itch.  There's something about fall being right around the corner that makes me want to plan out a race training schedule.  And so I did.  Even though I wasn't registered.  I thought to myself, I'll just train for this thing for fun and maybe someone will drop out at the last minute and give me their spot.

And then I woke up and realized that I was an idiot.  Why would I do that to myself in the first months of being a new mom?  The time commitment.  The energy.  The organization.  What was I thinking?

Well, I was thinking that I love running and how it makes me feel and the sense of purpose a training schedule provides with everything in it's place and how I can indulge in a little more ice cream and chocolate milk for the sake of my caloric intake and how I don't want to lose my identity just because I'm a mommy...

Then, opportunity drove a hard bargain.  My friend Martha needed to relinquish her spot and asked if I wanted it.  Oh man.

So I made a decision to train like a slacker.  And I've enjoyed it so much that I am going to have to give myself a serious kick in the butt to train any other way in the future.

It's no secret that I'm a slow runner.  No, I am a sloooooow runner.  Think of someone you perceive as being a slow runner and then slow them down about 2 more minutes per mile.  I heart the distance races because endurance trumps speed.  (Well, it does for a slow person like me.)  I was jazzed to receive a BOB running stroller from some amazing friends at a baby shower, because I knew it finally made my slow running legit.  Who's going to make fun of a slow running lady when she's pushing a stroller?  Well, I'm not sure, but no one I need to care about, right?

PLUS, have you seen how awesome these BOBs are?  (Beast of Burden, fyi)  I'm pretty sure the shocks on my stroller are nicer than the ones on my car.  We're talking smooooooth.  Throw in the handlebar console add-on and I've got a place for my water, keys, chapstick, and iPhone.  I kind of MISS running without it!

My Slacker's Guide to Half Marathon training entails these simple principles:
1. You are training to MERELY finish the race without getting hurt.  (Save the PR for another year, buddy.)

2. Run for minutes, not miles.  Hal Higdon tells you to run 6 miles, you run 60 minutes.  (And if you run slow like me, you will be finished before you were supposed to be finished.  Repeat after me: NOT cheating...just slacking.)

3. Here comes the beautiful part: No matter what happens, complete your entire run by running 10 minutes, walking 5 minutes, and repeating.  Oh, what's that?  You missed the first 4 weeks of your 12-week schedule and now you're mega-behind?  Just follow my slacker plan and no one gets hurt.  Jumping into a regular 4-miler nonstop when you were only running 1.5 is a quick way to get shin splints at best.  But running 40 minutes the slacker way?  No problem-o.

4. Don't beat yourself up about missing a run here and there.  You can walk the whole race if need be. (Remember?  It's for a good cause.)

Sure you're going to finish with a slower race time, but your knees will thank you for it.  And c'mon...it's still a half marathon!

I am loving this year's training so much because I am really just doing what I can and not stressing about the rest of it.  Rhet and I go out two weekday mornings per week and she naps while I put in my running time.  (Autumn colors, cool breezes, and falling leaves--SO lovely!)  On Saturday or Sunday afternoons (whichever is less busy or has nicer weather), I head out with Rhet or occasionally solo and enjoy the long runs on the Greenline.  She loves to people watch and bob her head to the Nike+ music while I'm huffing and puffing along.

Last week, as I made plans for the end of the race schedule, I decided to bump my long run up from the prescribed 80 minutes to 120 minutes, since I knew the whole race was going run me close to 3 hours.  Because I was slacker-running, it was doable (without injury).  (And I got in about 9 miles!)  This Saturday, I'll go for 2.5 hours.  Instead of seeing it as this huge challenge, I'm enjoying the luxury of my free time!

So there you have it...running for slackers.  Let go of your inner perfectionist and embrace what you can enjoy!

Grace, Gratitude, & Gift-Excitement

Thanks for "listening" yesterday. Something I've been thinking about since posting: there are similarities between ALL first-time mommies, no matter how we're getting there. Perhaps I'm struggling with "adoption brain" along with my normal new-parent worries. Perhaps most people worry about balancing their jobs with parenting responsibilities. Perhaps these recent grey & rainy days are affecting me like they usually do.

Time to give myself a little grace.

(Future post to come on what that looks like and how it's workin for me.)

I was reading in John 2 this morning about Jesus turning water into wine at his friends' wedding. It reminded me that God cares about my celebrations in life. These times can be stressful with all of the bustle and trying to make ends meet. But Jesus provides enough to celebrate fully. He sustains the joy. For that, I feel extreme gratitude.

Speaking of which, we have been the recipients of so much generosity recently! This little house is starting to look like a little girl will live here soon! Some dear friends threw me a baby shower this past weekend, and Rhet is going to be living large!

Thought I'd share with you a few items friends have gifted us with over the past several months that I can't wait to use soon:

Britax Roundabout Carseat

Super pumped about this sucker. Nice and girly for the little lady, but I can easily put a cover on it for future boy-child if necessary. Not that that matters--picking out a carseat totally reminded me of choosing running shoes: looks don't/can't matter. Everything I've read about this car seat has been positive. This is a small bonus I get to adopting a child who will be at least 12 months old by the time she comes home--no infant carrier systems! Convertible carseat was the only box to check...lucky me. :)

I know not everyone finds the need for the backseat mirror, but I am going to use one--something about not knowing what Rhet's little face looks like (is she sleeping, happy, mad?) back there is unsettling. We have an Eddie Bauer puppy dog mirror that will do the trick and will keep me in the know.

Fisher Price Space Saver Highchair

I originally registered for a super-cute girly version of this high chair. However, using a giftcard to purchase it at the store gave me the presence of mind to choose something a little more gender neutral. So thankful for that revelation of future-mindedness, as the blues, greens, & browns in this chair actually "fit" with our dining area and blend in with the background. This chair was in the "save" category, and I am loving it's simplicity.

I should also mention that I am a huge fan of all things Munchkin. They totally reel me in with their modern feel and creative ideas. Snack bowls with flexible openings for little hands, spoons that change colors when they're too hot, little mesh holders to aid in eating risky treats (like grapes) = sign me up.

We're also going to be using bottles in the morning and evening to aid in attachment to our little cutie-pie. (Posts on attachment in adoption to ensue, I'm sure. But if you're curious, check out this book and this book!) Bottle of choice: Avent. However, solid foods are on the menu for most of Rhet's day, so she's now the proud owner of some cute plates. bowls. & spoons as well.

Moby Wrap

Have any of you used a Moby Wrap? Have any of your HUSBANDS used a Moby Wrap? Carriers like this are supposed to be great for attachment, and I am very excited about how comfortable this wrap looks. However, while this was a "save," I'm wondering if we also need to purchase a carrier in the "splurge" category (Baby Bjorn or Ergo Baby) for the fact that it looks a little more acceptable for a father to be wearing it. I know I'll be loving this for home use, but I wonder if the structure of a pricier carrier might be worth it. Thoughts?

Okay, I'll end with 2 splurges and a simple save:

gDiapers

Oh yes, my friends. I will be delving into the world of cloth diapering soon. gDiapers are our weapon of choice, for three reasons: 1) Their hybrid flexibility (you can choose a flushable insert or a cloth insert), 2) Their reviews & customer service, & 3) They are so dadgum cute.

Our first shipment of Rockin' Green laundry detergent is due to arrive any day now, after which you'll get my run-down on the mysterious and intimidating world of cloth diapers made simple.

This is a splurge AND a save. Up front = splurgin' it. But in the long run, I am super pumped about doing the laundry instead of zipping that debit card over and over and over.

BOB Revolution

I see more marathons in this momma's future! I am super-psyched (yeah, I just said that) about this guy. SUPER easy to break down, set up, and roll along. In the past, I've just been a slow runner that can run long. NOW, I can can look respectable running long with a stroller--that looks hardcore! :) I'm excited to get to share my hobby with my daughter--maybe when she's big enough, she can run next to me instead!

Here comes a save that every household with a child should have:

I. Love. This. Book. It was my childhood favorite, and I'm so happy it's still around. I found it hilarious to rebelliously turn the pages as Grover warned me about the monster on the last page. At the end of the book, well, I won't give it away, but things aren't as scary as Grover thought.

I'm kinda hoping parenthood is that way, too. ;)

Darling, I Don't Know Why I Go to Extremes

Billy Joel, anyone, eh?

Ok, this post is dedicated to this month's new thing: Bikram Yoga.  

Bikram Yoga (sometimes referred to as "hot yoga") was designed (by some guy whose first name is Bikram) to "systematically stimulate and restore health to every muscle, joint, and organ of the body. "  It is "scientifically formulated to regenerate tissue and cure chronic ailments."  Sounds great, right?  Well, here is the kicker: you perform 26 postures over a period of 90 minutes in a room that is heated to over 100 degrees.  

What the heck, Jesse?  I know you're asking it.  Why do you have to be so extreme?  First, a marathon, now 100 degree yoga?  What is your problem?  

Well, the answer to those questions are: 

1. I don't know.

2. I have always been kind of an extreme person.  

3. See next paragraph...

I did a major no-no when training for my marathon.  I did not strength train, and I did not stretch.  Ok, yes, I did like 5 lunges after a run and called it stretching, but that did not really count.  At the time, my excuse was: Um, excuse me but I just ran for 3 hours and you want me to spend another 30 minutes stretching?  No thanks.  As a result, my muscles were trained to run longer mileages but in a very unflexible nature.  They are so tight it is ridiculous.  

I was getting a massage not too long ago (a gift for my half-birthday, holla to my awesome husband!), and the masseuse was incorporating some stretching into my massage.  She was pushing up on my leg to stretch my hamstring, and she said, "Um...is this as far as it usually goes?"  It was at this point that I realized that my muscles were not doing too hot these days.  

Every time I had run since the marathon, my muscles were in pain.  My joints were in pain.  They made me believe they were just going to give out on me.  

So, it was time.  Yoga was the answer--I needed some guided stretching.  I decided to focus a whole month on this process and cut down on the running.  

Yoga is expensive--this is the downside.  So when I found out that the Bikram Yoga center (3 minutes from my house) offered a $29 intro fee for your first month of yoga--unlimited...?  I figured it was now or never...  (To illustrate what a great deal that is: normal cost of Bikram Yoga is about $120 for 10 sessions.  Cha-ching!)  

Yesterday was my first day.  And it kiiiiiiiicked my butt.  I will not clean that sentence up, because it did not kick my hiney...it kicked my butt.  As soon as I walked into the yoga room, the hot air enveloped my face and my body and swept into my nostrils.  You start out with breathing exercises.  No problem, right?  Wrong, even the breathing exercises had me starting to sweat with the intensity of a pig.  (Pigs sweat, right?)  I felt like a fountain, sweat was just gushing out of me.  I stood and followed the first few sets of poses.  Then I started to black out.  So I sat down.  For about 30 minutes of class...ha!  Focus on your breathing, the instructor constantly told us.  (You are only "allowed" to breath through your nose--difficult when you become out of breath!)  The last half of the class is done from the mat, and you get to rest on your back (in the "corpse pose") between every set--now this is more my speed!  I participated as faithfully as I could.  (Oh, and PS: this is not the type of class where there is serene music playing and the teacher is talking in slow-motion, very softly.  The verbal cues for this class are quick and fast-paced and there is no background sound but for everyone breathing through their noses.)  By the end of the class, my clothes were soaked through with sweat, my hair was dripping wet as if I had just taken a shower, and my towel (on top of my mat) was soaked through as well.  Talk about detox!  

I couldn't decide how I felt about it when I came home.  I was so worn out and overwhelmed!  But I also felt very rejuvenated.  Well, I had paid for an unlimited month, and I had told myself I would go 5 days a week...so I was in this whether I liked it or not!  All of the instructions say that it's normal to feel woozy for the first few classes.  It's normal to not be able to participate in the full class for a while.  This is what kept me from feeling like a full-blown loser.  

I'm interested to see what will be different by the end of the month.  Will I have abs of steel?  Will I be able to put my feet behind my head?  Will I be able to merely stand in that room for more than 2 minutes without feeling like I will pass out?  I figure anything will be a step in a positive direction.  Until then, I am drinking water like a camel.

Happy New You

(Anyone go to Winterfest way back in the day?  The subject line was a Jeff Walling-ism one particular year.)

So welcome to the new design, everyone!  I wish I could say it was easy as pie, as I originally anticipated it would be...(and by the way, whoever came up with that phrase OBVIOUSLY did not make their own crust...I can't even transfer the store bought stuff out of its tin without it crumbling into a million pieces as I curse Mr. Pillsbury.  Blurg.)...but it wasn't (easy), and we'll leave it at that.  C'est la vie.

Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season.  Our Christmas was fabulous and relaxing and aside from my turkey still being frozen on Christmas Eve (oops), it was perfect!  We spent New Year's traveling to my parents' house in Atlanta and Colorado Springs for our annual youth ministry conference.  Good times.

Now I am finally getting back into the swing of things.  *Deep sigh*

Here's my January Update:

1. My New Year's Resolution is to chill out about things that are a small deal (oh boy, that needs a lot of work), and to make a bigger deal out of things that are important to me.  (Or in short: better prioritizing.)  My training for this resolution is to read the Sermon on the Mount all year long.  

2. People have been asking if I've been running since the marathon.  The answer is yes, but not very far.  I am up to 2 miles.  This may seem ridiculous to you (as it does to me--I mean, I was running 15-20 mile runs a little over a month ago, for crying out loud!), but all I can say is it's just part of the recovery.  When I get over a mile, my knees start crying uncle.  I am being sweet to them by taking it nice and slow(er than usual, if you can believe that's even possible).

 

3. I have Inauguration Fever and it is out of control.  I am not sick of the whole shabang, in fact, I am quite intrigued and fascinated.  I heart Obama.  Here are my favorite quotes from his Inaugural Address:

"We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things.  The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness."

"And so to all the other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman, and chid who seeks a future of peace and dignity..."

"To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds.  And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to the suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect.  For the world has changed, and we must change with it."

(And, for those of you who know me well, don't you know I was looooving the "we are the keepers of this legacy" stuff.  The passing forward to our children's children...I ate it up with a spoon!)

4. I am still loving my haircut!  If you are looking for a hair stylist that does a great cut AND color (hard to find in one person, in my opinion), I have got the woman for you!  Icing on the cake: she gave me a free trim the other day just to keep things shaped up (I like to stretch cut/colors out to once every three months), and she sent me home with half a styrofoam cup of my favorite (expensive) clarifying shampoo!  As you can tell, I am a big fan.

4. Owens has been a little down-and-out lately--he has been acting younger than normal this year with the presence of an adolescent puppy in our house, but I fear his youthful jaunts have caught up to him and his back was really hurting after traveling.  I took him into the vet and he got a cortisone shot, but he has definitely been showing signs of his age (he'll be 10 in April), which is unlike him.  And just after Moses got healthy!  If it's not one thing it's another.  If you have any tips for helping an older dog take it easy, send 'em my way!

I'll leave you with a short clip from Owens' younger winter days...

26.2

I've put off writing this post on several occasions.  Writing about my wedding was the same way.  There's some kind of monumental-event-writer's-block that holds me back.  This huge thing happened, this seemingly unattainable goal was accomplished, and all I can do is be amazed.  So get ready--here's my novel:

You might think I'm being overly dramatic about some little ole' race.  But as a runner, your first marathon is a very big deal.  And as a person, participating in this extreme event was always a dream of mine--up there with climbing Mount Everest!  (Although, I don't think I will be taking on Everest anytime soon!)  

Someone asked me this week, "What made you want to run a marathon?"  (AKA: "Why did you lose your mind?")  The only answer I could come up with is that it was something that would push me to live dangerously.  I am not a dangerous person--I am quite compliant, actually.  And the idea of this extreme physical event that pushes you past what your body is naturally able to do, this event some people have died participating in (including the very first marathoner, according to legend!), this event that is in many ways a personal "Mount Everest"...it hooked me.  

Training was a bear.  Sweltering hot summer days.  Bitterly cold rainy days.  Discomfort.  (Remember those blisters? ha!)  Dehydration.  Fatigue.  Blocking off huge chunks of time just for the sole act of running.  Running on trails.  Running on sidewalks.  Running on streets, across streets, dodging traffic.  Shedding layers.  Adding layers.  Sweating.  Shivering.  Sweating AND shivering.  Feeling pain and pushing past it.  Feeling tired and pressing on.  Eating carbs.  Drinking water.  I brought my body and my life under the reign of marathon discipline.  

So there I was.  Standing at the start line on December 6, 2008.  I had been training for this day for 7 months (since May).  My parents had flown in the previous day.  My mom had gotten "race highlights," faint violet streaks in her chic white/grey hair, for the sole purpose of cheering me on.  (It's apparently all the rage in Australia??)  We had all carbed up at Pasta Italia, another amazing experience with some of the most delicious food I've ever eaten!  I had come home that evening and laid all of my items out (as seen in the post below).  I was nervous.  I had weird dreams.  And the next morning, we arose early in the ridiculous cold (upper 20's I think?), picked up a friend (holla, Rebecca!), and headed downtown.  We took pictures at the start line.  And then there I was...standing with Ashley & Becca in the 11:00 - 11:30 corral.  

The race started.  It took about 20 minutes to cross the start line (they let corrals go about 2-3 minutes apart from each other).  I yelled "I'M RUNNING A MARATHON!!!" when we crossed the Start.  It felt surreal.

The weather was cold and windy--perfect conditions for the term "blustery."  Someone (whom I am greatly thankful for) gave me a pair of brand new cotton gloves just before the race started.  I was so happy I had them--I usually toss gloves after Mile 2, but at my first inclination for tossing (in cold weather, your body heats up pretty quick and then tries to tell you to unzip or shed some layers) I kept the gloves on just in case I might need them.  I was glad I did that--after my body regulated its temperature, things got chilly again!  The high for the day ended up being 48 or something crazy like that.

Ashley and I stuck together for the first 5 miles or so.  I was happy for her company.  We pushed up that ridiculous Beale Street hill together, yelling to everyone "Don't stop!  We can do it!"  

Eventually, I needed to take a quick walk break to get in some Gu and liquids.  Ashley kept running, and that was the last we saw of each other.  I went solo from that point on.  

I passed all kinds of great signs.  One marriage proposal: "Kelly, will you marry me?  Answer at the finish line!"  A few dry humor posters, "Charlie - You'll never make it!", "Karen: Smoke Break Here!", and "Donna, your feet hurt!"  (All names have been changed to protect the runners' identities...or merely because I can't remember them.  ha.)  My personal favorite sign was one that I saw twice along the course, held by a sweet cheering woman: "You're all Kenyans to me!"  

The well-wishers along the sidelines were invaluable.  I was cheered on by people I knew as well as strangers.  "1990!  You're lookin great!  Keep it up!"  Then there were the St Jude posters and tshirts I passed along the way - "Run for Jake!", "Remember Chelsie!", and "Run for those who no longer can!"  

My parents had mapped out three places along the course that they would be standing and cheering before they headed to Autozone to see me finish.  I wrote projected times that I would be passing the certain mile markers where they planned to meet me.  Unfortunately, I forgot about the lag time before you actually get to cross the Start, and they were gone before I got to the first "checkpoint."  They had stood for a good long while right before the course turns into Overton Park, but though I was making good time, I was a little "late" and they worried they had missed me.  

When I passed where they were supposed to be, I realized they probably had moved on.  I knew I wouldn't see them again until after I had finished the first half.  My resolve grew gritty.  I felt like the Lone Ranger.  And I felt good.  Determined.  Overton Park is my least favorite part of the first half, and I knew it would be a tough couple of miles.  It is the only part of the course where no one is on the sidelines.  You are hidden from the street.  You can't see very far down the road, so it's hard to tell where you're going or when you will get there.  But it didn't matter to me this time.  I took it easy.  I walked and jogged and ran.  It wasn't so bad, aside from the old woman in a tanktop running behind me, her feet hitting the ground like cement blocks and groaning with each breath.  THAT was a little excruciating, but I'm sure it hurt her more than it pained me.  

I picked people to keep up with.  There was a man in a red shirt with a black fanny pack.  Whenever he walked, I walked.  When he ran, I ran.  I eventually passed him because I realized he was not pacing himself to my liking (plus, his fanny pack jingled, which I found annoying after a couple miles).  But this brings up a good point: pacing yourself.  In the half marathon, my goal was always to RUN.  Don't stop.  Walking is for wimps.  However, the marathon does not work this way.  The Average Joe Six-Miler can't just RUN 26.2 miles without stopping.  There is more strategy involved.  Run 10 minutes, walk 1 minute.  Run the straights, walk the hills.  Run run run, and walk the aid stations.  Whatever your strategy may be, it probably involves a tad bit of walking.  If you don't plan for it, it will hit you like a freight train.  Unfortunately, I did not really plan for it.  I just figured I'd walk when I needed to.  I had a friend who was a pacer for the 5:30 group (finishing in 5 hours and 30 minutes).  They were going to run an 11-minute mile and then walk 2-3 minutes between each mile.  That's ridiculous, I thought.  I can finish much faster than that.  I don't need to walk between EVERY mile.  In reality, I ended up walking/shuffling miles at a time.  I should have had a better strategy.  But I'm jumping ahead of myself.  

I finished the first half in around 2:30.  This was perfect pacing for me.  I was very pleased.  I had expected to hit The Split (where the half marathoners split off from the full course on their last mile to finish) with great emotion.  I just knew I would cry.  Instead, when I ran left instead of right I waved my hands in the air and yelled "I'M RUNNING A MARATHON!!!"  I was going to do it, and my time was going to exceed my expectations!

About a mile and a half later, I was running uphill...alone.  Mile 14.  I didn't realize the second half of the marathon didn't attract well-wishers.  I didn't realize everyone was spread out and I'd be running literally all alone.  It was quiet.  It was cold.  It was lonely.  And the idea that I had only run HALF of this race was beginning to sink into my bones.  This is the worst idea I've ever had in my life, I thought.  Half marathon finishers were walking across the street in front of me to their cars, with their medals and their silver capes, saying "My legs hurt so bad!"  I felt bitter.  

And then I saw my parents.  My mom came running toward me on the sidewalk, meeting me and running along with me.  Tears stung my eyes.  I was SO happy and touched to see someone I knew.  Someone that was cheering me on.  "You're doing great!  How do you feel?"  And I told her, my voice wavering, "This is NOT the best thing I've ever done!!"  My dad was taking pictures from his wheelchair at the end of the block.  I high-fived him and ran on, my parents waving, yelling, and ringing a cowbell behind me.  

(The best part of the story is inserted here: My mom was so excited to see me that she only heard me say "This is the BEST thing I've ever done!"  She thought my emotion was from joy and excitement.  As she and my dad watched me run off into the distance down Linden, she told my dad "She's doing great.  She's in high spirits.  She said this is the best thing she's ever done."  Later, when matching our stories, we found it quite hilarious that she had such a positive view of my beginning to hit The Wall.)  

The Wall.  That place of marathon peril.  I expected to hit it in the 20's or perhaps 18ish.  I pretty much hit my Wall between Mile 14 and Mile 16.  Running AWAY from the finish line up Peabody toward the Cooper Young district.  Mostly a gradual and steady incline.  I had told myself I'd walk the hills.  Well, these were mostly (and suprisingly) hills...at least in my liberal definition!  So I walked a lot--the whole time feeling quite defeated due to the fact that I had many more miles to run in the opposite direction of the Finish line.  The miraculous thing is that I never felt like giving up.  The grimmest portion of hitting my Wall was when I pretty much willed myself forward by chanting "This will be over in a couple of hours."  I was pleasantly surprised by my optimism and good humor during the whole experience.  This made the Wall much less horrible than expected.

I passed and was passed by several women during these difficult miles--we chatted in the brief moments we were next to each other.  Lots of first-time marathoners.  One of the new friends I made was wearing a bright pink shirt--she was funny and friendly and I tried to make sure I kept her in my sights.  I lost track of her around Mile 17.

"What did you think about for all that time??" people have asked me.  Well, the short answer is: nothing!  I let my mind zone-out for most of the second half, aside from my "This too shall pass" mantra.  

Once we finally made it to East Parkway (Mile 18 or 19?), I felt on top of the world.  We hung a left and instead of running away from downtown, I knew I was on the way back to the Finish.  I knew in a few short miles I'd see my parents, who also had already met up with Nick by then.  East Parkway is most drastically hilly than Peabody, but I enjoyed running downhill, and then I took a little break each time to walk uphill.  Lo, and behold, I saw my parents a little bit before Mile 20.  My mom walked uphill with me and told me I looked beautiful, which brought some tears to my eyes again.  Dad and Nick were at the top of the hill, Nick wrapped in a blanket, and I ran over and gave Nick a kiss.  Seeing all of them was just what I needed to push through Mile 20.  

I started running again and ran straight through for another mile and a half.  I ran a short while with an Illinois college student--she said the reason she was running a marathon was because it was part of a class.  She and her classmates ran Hal Higdon's running schedule and the class textbook was one on sports psychology.  Very interesting.  She ran ahead while I took a short walk break.  And then I pushed onward.

Up ahead, I saw a woman in a bright pink shirt--my funny friend from Mile 16!  I caught up to her and said "Heeeeyyyy!"  "I'm running until Mile 20," she said, "I've promised myself I would let myself walk when I got there!"  It sounded like a great plan to me.  We ran the last few hundred meters through Mile 20 together, chatting the whole way.  We took a nice long walk break through the aid station and for another half mile.  Her name was Anyssa (Uh-Knee-Sa) and she was from Illinois.  I was ready run downhill and around the corner onto North Parkway.  "Awwww, cmon, "Anyssa groaned in protest.  I told her she could keep walking if she wanted and she said "No way, I'm sticking with you!"  So thus we turned onto the road that would lead us back downtown.  

Anyssa was the angel from God that kept me from despairing during those last 6 miles.  We felt awful.  Our feet hurt.  Our legs hurt.  Our butts hurt.  Our lungs hurt.  We just joked around and dryly laughed about how many toenails we thought we'd lost by then.  We walked most of those 6 miles.  Well, walking is not all that true of a definition for me.  Anyssa was walking.  I was...granny shuffling.  It hurt too bad to walk, but it hurt too bad to run.  So I pumped my arms in a circular motion like a speed walker and shuffled my feet.  I'm sure I looked ridiculous, but at that point I could have cared less.  

Around Mile 21, my friend with the 5:30 pacing group passed us.  "Kelly!  No!  Don't pass us!" I called after her jokingly, and she greeted me as she freshly kept running.  Drat.  I should have started with them!  That'll teach me...

Occasionally we passed tables that individuals had set up in addition to the aid stations.  At one point I had seen one with a big sign "Beer and Candy."  Ha.  I partook of an extra table around Mile 23--someone was passing out pretzels and gummy Lifesavers.  "Bless you!" we gratefully yelled as we shuffled past, grabbing a handful.  Unfortunately, my stomach was not all that grateful and it became very upset.  No Port-o-Potties for miles, and besides, I couldn't stop shuffling if I wanted to!  So I merely decided that I officially felt the worst I possibly could, and noted so out loud to my friend while laughing.  I can't even tell you how glad I was to have Anyssa as a shuffling partner--it helped so much just to talk about our training experience and our families and whatever else came to our minds to keep them off of our monumental task.

Mom, Dad, and Nick were waiting at the Cozy Corner restaurant--Mom had cross the street, and she walked a short bit with Anyssa and me.  "Cya at the Finish line!"  she cheerfully encouraged and it set in that we were mere miles from finishing! 

Those last 3 miles were horrible.  Ick.  We could see and hear glimpses of Autozone, but our course wasn't taking us directly there.  Some lady passed by in her car and rolled down the window, "What kind of walk is this?" she asked.  "WHAT?" we yelled?  "What kind of walk is this?  Who is it for?"  "THIS IS A MARATHON RACE, LADY!"  I said defensively.  "FOR SAINT JUDE!"  Apparently that was all she wanted to know, but I found myself quite offended that she thought we were participating in some silly little walk.  C'mon, lady!  Can't you see I'm struggling!  Don't injure the last thing I have left--my pride!  Finally, we shuffled up the exit ramp for Union Avenue and the stadium was in front of us.  We both took off running, finally disregarding our pain.  

We were yelling as we ran down the alley to the tunnel leading into the stadium.  "We just ran 26.2 miles!  We just ran a marathon!  We did it!  We did it!"  It was surreal!  I can't describe what I felt as I ran down the tunnel into Autozone Park.  I just started screaming.  I couldn't help it. 

 "AUGHHHH!!  WOOHOOOOOOO!  WOOO!  WOOOOOO!  WOOHOOOOO!" I yelled as I waved my hands in the air and circled half the bases.  I made a commotion. 

 

The remaining people in the stadium (not many!) began to cheer, noticing the scene I was making.  I crossed the finish line, smiling and yelling and waving at the camera man. Anyssa was right after me, crying.  They put a medal over my head and wrapped a silver cape around me.  A man bent down and clipped the sensor off my shoe.  "Thank you for letting me stop running," I told all of them.  Nick put his arms around me and led me upstairs (blurg!) to my waiting parents.  Anyssa's husband was waiting there too.  We took pictures and said goodbyes. 

Time to pig out.  But apparently not really--there was hardly any food left!  That was the disappointment of the day.  I grabbed a donut and a banana and tried to eat them, but I found my appetite to be nonexistent.  And what little there was just wanted something WARM.  

But I had finished.  It took me an embarassingly long time.  6:06.  There were not even 100 people that finished after me.  But so what.  I ran a marathon!  I did it.  And I still can't believe it.  

We ended the day by watching "Spirit of the Marathon" and eating some BBQ Pizza from MPC.  Perfect.  As I watched the documentary of all of these people training for their race, my "never again" attitude already started melting away.  Ooooo, I thought, I could totally beat my time if I tried again.  This time I'd know what to expect...  

I have no idea if I will attempt a marathon again.  Something tells me I will.  Although in the days following the race, when I could not stand or walk or sleep without feeling extreme pain I thought I could never put myself through it again.  But look at me now...good as new!  (Except for my healing marathon blisters and stiff joints...ha!)  Regardless of whether I do it again or not, I'm proud of myself.  I decided to do something I had always wanted to do.  Something difficult.  Something slightly dangerous.  And I did it.  

Now, what shall my resolution be for 2009?  :)

PS: I took my blog-readers' advice--I kept my hair long for the race, and half a week afterwards...

Six Months + Eighteen Hardcore Weeks =

Mileage Musings: The Dirty Dozen + Eight (20!!!)

I'll keep it short and sweet since I'm in Atlanta this week for job
training. (And I'm typing this from the iPhizzy)

Part One: 12 miles. Nick ran with me, which was very sweet, seeing his
long run was only supposed to be 8 that weekend. Ha! (Way to go above
and beyond, love muffin!) He had set out little paper cups of water
ahead of time for us. What was disturbing was that some of them were
missing when we finally ran to that point. We went out 6 miles and
then ran back, and what was even weirder was the fact that some of the
cups we'd used on the way were missing on the way back! How thirsty do
you have to be to drink a disposble cup of unknown liquid sitting next
to a lightpole?? This portion of the run was tough because we ran a
lot of the way without music and without much conversation.

Part Two: 8 miles. We ran by the house for Nick to quit his portion
and I got my headphones and took of on a different course. I rocked
this part of the run. The music was fresh. My Gu Roctane breathed new
life into my body. I finished the last 400 meters of my 20 mile run in
a sprint!!

Part Three: My 20-Mile Party. Nick went for the big enchilada. He
booked me a 90 minute massage at my favorite spa in Atlanta!
Heavenly!! My masseuse told me I had knots all over me - it hurt like
the dickens while she was working on then, but I felt so much better
after the massage. In fact, I felt so relaxed that I ran right into a
wall when I was walking into the dressing room area!

Mileage Musing: 17, Baby!

Just in case you're wondering, I'm feeling every bit of it.

This is an ad on the back of this month's issue of "Runner's World" that hyped me up for the big 17:

"You pretended the snooze button didn't exist. You dragged your butt out of bed while others slept. While others ate their pancakes. You had a feast of protein, glucose, and electrolytes. You double-knotted. You left the porch light on and locked the door behind you. You ran. 5ks, 10ks, 26.2 miles. Some days more, some days less. You rewarded a long run with a short run. And a short run with a long run. Rain tried to slow you. Sun tried to microwave you. Snow made you feel like a warrior. You cramped. You bonked. You paid no mind to comfort. On weekends. On holidays. You made excuses to keep going. Questioned yourself. Played mind games. Put your heart before your knees. Listened to your breathing. Sweat sunscreen into your eyes. Worked on your farmer's tan. You hit the wall. You went through it. You decided to be a man about it. You decided to be a woman about it. Finished what you started. Proved what you were made of. Just kept putting mile after mile on your internal odometer. For 25 years, you ran. And we ran with you. How much farther will we go? As far as you will."

(- Ad for Nike Air Pegasus' 25th Anniversary).

Wooooohoooo!

She's Superfeet-y!

(The subject title is supposed to be chanted like the phrase in the classic song, "Superfreak.")

Ok, grossed out readers & friends. I finally took my nasty blood blister, my recently purchased new shoes (Nike Zoom - Bowerman Series), and both types of socks that I have run in (Balegas & Thorlos) to Fleet Feet yesterday (my friendly neighborhood running store that I have now been frequenting for years). I walked in and held up my flip-flopped foot and said "Help me!" Being the avid runners that they are in that store, they did not even bat an eyelash. What a strange breed of people, these runners that are willing to get purple blisters and have their toenails fall off all for the sake of putting one foot in front of another for a very long time.

They advised me to lance and drain the blister (ewwww, I know...), put zinc oxide on it (to dry it out), and to cover it with a bandaid. Then they advised that I could get a product called "New Skin" that looks like nail polish to brush onto the blisters, which would make the area harden.

In addition, I had identified two things about my running that may be contributing to the blisters: (1) my socks (which I bought at the end of the summer/beginning of fall) feel a bit tight and they kind of smoosh my toes together, and (2) when I run high mileages (for over an hour and a half), my feet are getting fatigued and I am most likely "toeing" when I run. (Imagine yourself pushing the toes of your feet into the ground first when you're running--that is "toeing.") Soooo...the nice Fleet Feet man swapped my size small Belega socks for mediums. He then cut some Superfeet insoles to size and inserted them in my shoes. The larger socks will hopefully give my toes a little extra room, while still fitting my feet (you don't want extra fabric hanging out down there). The Superfeet insoles will provide more stability so that when my feet do become fatigued, they will remain in the correct spot in my shoes.

Last night, Dr. Nick performed my minor toe surgery. All went well. Nothing hurt, although I did get a bad case of the Heebie Jeebies. Today, I will cover my blister with New Skin, cover that with Moleskin, and cover my feet with a liberal amount of Body Glide (Tesney, yes we use it religiously at our house! And yes, Ashley it does sound a little questionable. ha!). Then I will put on my larger socks and my new and improved running shoes and jump back into my running schedule.

The Fleet Feet workers gave me congratulations and high fives. They told me a blister of that magnitude of grossness officially puts me in a class of elite runners. Yessssss...

When It Rains, It Blisters

Continuing the grossness. This blister has kept me sidelined since Friday! Any advice??
(I'm wearing flip flops with my work trousers this week! Fashion no-no!)

No Pain = No Marathon

I'll be honest: The only reason I am posting these pictures is for sympathy.

 
 

Whenever I have previously pondered on individuals running marathons, it seemed so matter of fact.  They ran 26.2 miles.  Cool.

The training experience has literally taken on flesh for me.  And when I say "taken on" I mean "made war against."  Ha.  Above are just a few pictures of blisters I've recently had.  (Sorry for the shabby toenails--as you can imagine, I'm too ashamed to take these guys in for a pedicure!)  If you can believe it, the first three (same blister) are just small potatoes compared to the blisters I received last weekend from my 2.5 hour run.  The last picture depicts one of the four blisters on my two big toes.  Poor poor piggies who went to the market--they had no idea what they were in for!

Mileage Musings: The Big 10

The 10 mile long run happened about a week and a half ago, and it was hugely successful due to two things: (1) AMAZING fall weather and (2) Gu Roctane.  

I have discovered that temperature affects my runs tremendously.  Hot weather drains me, even if I have properly hydrated throughout the day (and the day before).  Case in point below...

I know I am very brave to post this picture, but whatev.  It could be 50 degrees outside and I would still sweat if I ran.  Crank it up to 90, and it's just not pretty folks.  

Anyways, due to all of this summer training, I feel like a superstar when the weather is cooler.  And so it was on the day of the 10 mile.  

My other key to success was my new best long run friend: Gu Roctane.  If you've never used Gu before (pronounced "goo"), it is a carbohydrate supplement that you take when you have depleted your body's source of carbs.  If I'm running 10 or more miles, I usually make Gu part of my running strategy.  It is in a little silver packet, you tear the top off, and it comes in many different flavors of...goo.  That is the best way to describe it, actually.  It is like eating gooey, flavored honey.  You drink a cup of water with it to make it go down.  

So, Gu came out with a new hyped-up product called Roctane.  I saw it at Fleet Feet when I was picking up some running necessities, and I asked about it.  The guy told me that they were planning on carrying Roctane because they thought it was a bunch of overpriced hooey.  But then people started coming in and requesting it.  So they gave it a whirl.  And so did I.  

Wow, it was amazing.  I ran my first third of my run and briefly stopped at my own personal "aid station."  (I set up a cup of water, Gu, and a dry towel or washcloth near the entrance to the trail on which I run...voila!)  After my first lap on the trail, I was pretty beat.  I tried out the Roctane and headed off for my next third of the run.  It's not like I was automatically wearing a jetpack or anything...but it kind of was!  I am pretty psychologically motivated, but I've run with Gu enough times during "bad" runs that I don't view it as a miracle.  However, about 1/4 mile into the trail, I realized I felt good.  I wasn't overheated.  I wasn't out of breath.  My legs felt like they were in the zone.  I could run forever.  Yay for Roctane.  

When I returned from Shelby Farms, Nick threw me a "10-Mile Party."  I opened the door and he sprayed me with silly string.  He had two pieces of my favorite cake (one piece of caramel and one piece of chocolate from Holiday Ham) set up on the table with 5 candles each (one for each mile!), and he had put my favorite fall snack (candy corn) in little dishes all over our table.  So fun!  (He was going to buy me more running socks as well, but I had already bought some for myself right before my run!)  What a sweet and creative husband.  He did give the disclaimer that I shouldn't expect parties after all of my long runs.  Ha.  It sure was a great motivation for this one, though.

I apologize for all of my runner-y posts as of late.  Don't worry--I'm planning to mix it up with some pics of recent trips in my next post!  Over and out...

Mileage Musings: 7 & 9

So I got this great idea that I needed to start taking pictures of my marathon progress. I was inspired by the "baby bump" pics my friends have taken at certain weeks in their pregnancy...I figured, this marathon is my little baby for the year--why not track my growth too. eh?

I've fallen a little behind, so I'm going to squish two weeks together...

MILE SEVEN:

During my run 2 weeks ago for Mile 7, I realized that I might need to enlighten some random blog passers-by on walking etiquette. (I say passers-by because obviously YOU, dear reader, have perfect walking etiquette and that indeed is my assumption!)

• If you are walking on a track or trail, please please please walk on the "outer" rim. (The inner rim would be the "shortest" distance because the circumference is smaller. I may have failed math twice in college, but occasionally I get my act together.) I say this because if a runner is running their 6th mile, they just be too tired to run around the casual-walking-obvlious-to-his/her-surroundings-because-he/she-is-yakking-on-their-cell-phone person. (For the record, Nick disagrees with me--he says you always run on the right side of the trail, as if you were driving. I completely disagree. When it is 90 degrees and you have to run 7 miles, you are going for the path of least resistance FOR SURE, and in my opinion, you get dibs over walkers. What do you think?)

• If you are walking in multiples, leave room on the trail for someone else going either direction so they don't have to leave the trail and run around you on the grass, thus risking a twisted ankle or knee from the surface and level transitions. This also includes walking with children. I am so happy that your child can walk. Please at least hold his/her hand as runners pass by so they don't have to fear running over your namesake. I would say a good rule of thumb is that groups should take up no more than two-thirds of the trail, even if this means you have to fall back into layers.

• If you are walking with a stroller, you are automatically assigned to the outer rim. No question. If you are RUNNING with a stroller, kudos to you and I will bow and kiss your feet b/c I have no idea how you do it.

• This doesn't have much to do with walking etiquette, but if you are walking slow enough to talk on your cell phone or read a magazine you are probably not getting much exercise. Even if you are wearing athletic clothes. Wearing the clothes does not fool anyone or burn more calories. But whatev.

As you can see by my happy face in the picture, my 7 mile run was a breeze. Literally...it was wonderful strangely-cool weather on that afternoon and it was AMAZING.

MILE NINE:

Mile 7 and Mile 9 were like night and day.

My 9 mile run was probably the worst run of my entire life.

First, I had forsaken the previous week's running assignments due to rain, fatigue, and time management issues. (This means I had missed a 3, 4, 3, and 5 from the week before...the long run had me drop down to five miles for a little break. Needless to say, I gave myself a much larger and longer break. ha.)

Second, the evening we ran it was 90 degrees.

Third, we started running at Shelby Farms at 6:30, anticipating that 9 miles would take an hour and a half and that would have us finishing at 8pm when the sun was going down. (Shelby Farms closes after sunset.)

Fourth, we had registered to run the Nike+ Human Race, which was a 10k. This is 6.2 miles, but let it be noted that the farthest Nick had run before this race was 3 miles.

So, needless to say, the heat toasted us. We made it through the first 3 miles but ran straight to our car, where we had set up our waterbottles and Gu. We started back for another 3 mile loop, but I was exhausted from the heat and we had to stop several times to walk.  We got 1 mile out and were told by another runner that the park was closing in 5 minutes. Apparently I had misjudged the amount of time it would take us to run the full distance. We turned around and headed back to our car, with Nick running on and me doing an alternating run & walk. I was so hot and tired when we reached the car that I didn't speak for a good long while, which is remarkable for me. On the way home, we decided to park in our driveway and finish the remaining 4 miles when we got to our house. Which is what we did...in the dark.

When we finished up, we came inside and I sat (as usual) on our living room floor to cool off and stretch. All of a sudden, I got the worst cramp I've ever had...in my left butt cheek. Sorry for the graphic description of the site of my cramp, but that is precisely where it was and it felt like I had torn my gluteus maximus. I was yelling and wailing and Nick came running in and had to help me get the cramp to stop. I'm sure it was a sight to behold.

After it was all over, this is what I looked like (for a good hour):

Stay tuned for more mileage musings, folks! Until then, I ran in the rain this week and got a blister between my toes so I am taking it easy until Tuesday.

Miles to Go

One week.

That's how long I have until I officially start training for the St Jude Marathon!

My Spring Training has gone well. I am up to 5 miles...After I run 6 this weekend, I'll be good to go!

The picture to the left is of my footwear of choice: Adidas SuperNovas. My pair is not pretty in pink--they are lime green and grey, which would actually be my preference even though you are NOT supposed to choose running shoes based on their colors. To prove that I did not pick the SuperNovas because of their colors, my first pair was an ugly red and black combo. I looked like a UGA fan.

I am convinced that running in the summer is the absolute worst. Last Tuesday, it was scorching outside and I drank 96 oz of water during the day at work to prepare my body to run. I usually wait until after dinner when the sun is about to go down, but on this particular day I decided to run after work at 5:30. Big mistake. I couldn't finish the 3-mile run, I felt like I was going to puke all evening, and I ended up going to bed at 8pm with pruney fingers because I was so exhausted and dehydrated. Ridiculous.

What I find to be most motivating for a run is the MUSIC. I can run a race without music, but I can not train without it! Here is my current training playlist, entitled "SuperNovas of Fire:"

1. Smellin' Coffee (Chris Rice) - A weird selection I know, but I find it to be a great peppy starter. Some great lyrics to start with: "My heart is racin/wakin up to your smile/It's a good morning, good morning/Every little breath, every heartbeat/is a gift of love that you give to me..."
   
2. 4 Minutes (Madonna & JT) - They may not realize it, but they actually have four minutes AND four seconds to save the world! (My favorite is when JT says "Madooooona"...I like to pretend he's saying "Jesse Faaaaris!")
   
3. Slam (Toby Mac) - This song makes me feel intense--it's a great one to finish off the first mile. One of my quirks during is this song is to shake out my arms and hands when chorus kicks up.
   
4. Errtime (Nelly) - "Break it down, break it down for me...don't run outta gas girl!"
5. Where Are We Running (Lenny Kravitz) - This one was on my very first playlist I made on my first iPod for my first half marathon--Awww...I'm actually pretty sick of it (It was within the first mile on the playlist and I trained with it every training day of every half marathon--whew!), but when Lenny reminds me to "keep the skin tight and the booty in the air," I just find it motivating. Because that is very important.
   
6. Since U Been Gone (Kelly Clarkson) - Brings back memories of rockin' out in French train stations with Leslie. Sometimes I think Nick is thinking of this song while I'm out on my runs and he gets some personal time. :)
   
7. Going the Distance (Cake) - This was the original opening song for that first playlist mentioned above. And I am always "reluctantly crouched at the starting line" although I am not so sure I am "going for speed," being the tortoise that I am.
   
8. Stronger (Kanye West) - I'm not sure if I want to be Kanye's black Kate Moss tonight, but I am definitely into going faster, stronger, and all of those other adjectives he uses that have nothing to do with his verses.
9. Black or White (Michael Jackson) - The guitar riff in this song makes me feel happy...I have no idea why! Racial diversity makes everyone happy, I guess.
   
10. Stars (Switchfoot) - Another good driving guitar riff to keep my company on those lonely runs.
    
11. Exodus (Bethany Dillon) - The undercurrent of this song keeps me going, but if I'm having a good run I like to think about the words describing God's provision and faithfulness.
12. Toxic (Britney Spears) - What better to think about after dwelling on God's goodness than Britney's toxicity, eh?
13. Hey Ya! (Outkast) - One of the best running songs EVER...I always pick up my pace during this song. I also shake my arms and hands out during "shake it like a Polaroid picture."
    
14. A Little Less Conversation (Elvis Presley, the Ocean's Eleven version) - Good suggestion, Mr. Presley.
15. Let's Get It Started (Black Eyed Peas) - Even though I got it started several miles ago, it's always great to be reminded that the beat keeps running, running, and running, running...well, you get the picture.
16. Times Like These (Foo Fighters) - Perfect amount of intensity and themes of legacy.
17. We Will Rock You (Queen) - Another one of the greatest running songs of all time.
18. Sing A Song (Third Day) - I always get a second or third wind during yhe "Holy, holy, holyyyyy" parts.
19. Rest In You (Waterdeep) - This song annoys my husband, but I love the words, especially because I zone out and do some partially conscious daydreaming while I run.
    
20. Lose Yourself (Eminem) - I have a love/hate relationship with this song--on one hand: Yes, I only get one shot and I don't want to blow this opportunity, but stop reminding me how frickin exhausted I am Eminem! Geez!

I'll cut it off there, though I currently have thirteen more songs that keep me going. The playlist ends with Jim Fife yelling "Touchdooooooown Auuuuuuuuburn!" Yessss.

Other tools I find crucial to a good run:

A good fruity gum that holds its flavor. When I'm super tired and dragging, I chew on the gum and think to myself "Look, if you have enough energy to chew and run at the same time, then you can definitely finish this mile." Kooky, I know, but it works!

This little pouch holds my Nike+ sensor so I can velcro it onto my running shoes of choice. (This is not the exact brand that I own--mine is smaller and cuter, but I couldn't find a picture of it.) I used to put the sensor in a plastic sandwich baggie and thread it under my laces, but this way is a little less...ghetto.

I have been in love with Camelbaks waterbottles since they came out with them two years ago. I just bought this latest version with the "safe plastic." It's awesome because I can throw it in my bag in the morning and not have to worry about it leaking. Something about the design makes me drink more water, too...

I ran with iPod earbuds for years, but no more, my friends. I bought these Sennheiser PMX 70 Sport Earphones with some birthday money last year (Thanks, Mom!), and now I wouldn't think of running without them. They are comfortable and I don't mess with them even once while I'm running. (That used to be a quarter mile ritual--shoving the earbuds further into my apparently abnormal-shaped ear cavities.) They produce great sound, too.

One superstition that I must note is that I do NOT use these items during non-running, as a rule of thumb. If the song pops up on shuffle while I'm jamming in the office, I skip it. I save that specific flavor of Trident for running only. I do not wear my running shoes unless I'm...well, you get the picture. (Concessions are made upon necessity, such as wearing running shoes once in a blue moon on a biz trip b/c they are the only non-dressy shoes I brought.) The Camelbak is the only true exception--it is used all hours of the day and night!

Now that you have my tried and true running tools, you should try them out yourself! Anyone want to run the St Jude with me? Anyone? For those interested, I'm using Hal Higdon's schedule, which can be found here.

And You Think It's Kinda Funny, But It's Snot

Well, I've gone and done it again.  

I foiled my best attempts at greatness.  

Ok, just kidding with the melodrama.  But seriously, here's the story:

I was all pumped about running this year's St. Jude's Marathon.  Now, if you are a long-time reader of this blog, you will know that I have run three of the St Jude races...but each of them were half marathons.  This year, I am training for the Big Kahuna.  (Total aside: Did anyone ever watch "Back to the Beach" when they were younger?  What a great movie...)  

How does a person who can only run one mile end up running 26.4 miles by December?  Well, that person starts training in May.  

That person SHOULD start training in May.  

Everything was going smoothly.  I was increasing my mileage slowly as to not get too eager and injure myself.  And then it happened.  

The height (apparently) of the grass pollen season.  

I would not characterize myself as having allergies, but once every three years or so the floodgates just open and I am included with the masses of people who sneeze and sniffle their way through springtime.  Looks like this was my year.  Lucky me.  

I didn't think much of it.  I was miserable, but I took Zyrtec and tried to keep running....until Monday, when I visited the doctor and found out I had a sinus infection and double ear infection.  No wonder!  

So hear I am...taking strong antibiotics that tear up my stomach while my running shoes lie underneath the bed.  I am miles behind.  

Any suggestions on how to fix a sinus infection and/or stay on top of allergies?  

(DON'T say a Neti Pot, because I purchased one pre-sinus infection and it hasn't worked for me yet!)  In the meantime, don't pay any attention to that Nike+ ticker on the right column that is lagging behind!

Making It Count

Not sure if you caught one of my more practical New Year's Resolutions on the toolbar to the right.  It was to run twice a week for most weeks of this year.  To keep me accountable, I made an official resolution on the Nike+ website and posted my progress on this blog.  (Whenever I sync my Nano, the info automatically uploads to the Nike+ website and thus to this blog ticker.)  

I got off to a great start.  We went to a youth ministry conference in Atlanta for the first week of January and our hotel had a sweet workout room.  I hit the treadmills on the first day.  But alas, I realized as I was getting ready that I had left my Nike+ sensor at home.  This run would have to be extra credit. 

Nick and I decided to run when we returned home.  I hooked my sensor up and decided not to listen to music so Nick and I could talk, so I went without headphones.  At the end of the run, I finished only to realize that I hadn't really pressed start when I thought I had.  Another run unaccounted for!

I haven't met my monthly goal, mostly due to figuring out how to live my personal life between the hours of 5pm-9pm.  But I'm mostly eaten up by those runs that "didn't count." 

The other day, Nick commented that we rarely take pictures anymore.  He proposed that we do more things together that warrant taking pictures.  I'm pretty into that idea.  Here's to making it count!

(In the meantime, I'm checking that Nano twice before I take off on a run!)