All in Stride

I am almost always painfully aware of any irritation, chafing, or blister on my part of my body while on a run.  Naturally, my feet are especially sensitive.  Oddly, however, on my last two runs, I was completely oblivious to the growing pain on my heel until the moment I stopped running.

I wore the wrong socks during Thursday's track workout.  Or rather, I forgot that these socks don't work with the shoes I packed in my gym bag.  They slipped down my heel and left it exposed for my shoe to rub raw.  I didn't notice it until then end of my cool-down run when I heading into my office building.  For the most part, it was severe enough to cause me more than a little discomfort, but this morning, even though I wore the right socks this time, I put a bandaid on my heel and was good to go.  

Or so I thought.  I don't think I was even a mile into my run when I felt something hitting my other foot.  I looked down and saw that the bandaid had nearly come off and was flapping around.  I pulled it off and kept running.  After all, it didn't seem to hurt, and my sock was staying in place.  When we finished our 6-miler, I looked down at my foot to check on my blister, and it was a gross sight.  I'll spare you the details, only to say that the back of my sock was no longer blue.  As I walked back to my car I realized I was limping a bit, and when I got in my car I couldn't take it anymore.  I took off my shoes and socks, threw them in the back, and drove home barefoot.  

When I walked in house, my husband cringed a bit and said it looked bad.  I shrugged it off and headed into the shower to rinse off the mud on my legs and the blood on my foot.  The sting of the water caused me to wince - I probably even swore some.  When I came out and hobbled over to the kitchen to put some neosporin on, my husband said it sounded like it hurt.  But in the same breath he admired how I don't let the pain bother me.  I paused for a moment.  In general I'd disagree.  I have the lowest pain threshold of just about anyone I know.  I am a wimp.  But I guess I'm different when it comes to running.  I may not tolerate agonizing pain when I'm running, but I will ignore a lot more than when I'm not running.  Maybe it's the distraction of running or maybe it's because my brain expects some level of discomfort.  Either way, I find it a lot easier to just take it all in stride.  Battle wounds and all.

Miles: 6
Time: 54:00
Pace: 9:00

My legs are tired this evening, and, odd as this may sound, this excites me.  I'm thrilled because the soreness and tiredness is a result of having had the best running week I've had in a long time.  Not only did I go out for a run 4 times this week, but each time I ran strong and pushed myself just enough to up my game without leaving me to crash and burn at the end.  But I don't take any of the credit, because three of the four times I was running with my group.  

I only ran two days this last week, but I still kept my usual number of weekly miles.  That's because I ended up running about 80% of my miles on one day: yesterday.  With the Girlfriends Half in three weeks, and Katherine running the Portland Marathon in two weeks, we wanted to go 14 miles.  Our running group was planning to run two iterations of a 7-mile loop, which didn't appeal to either of us.  Looking for another route long enough for 14 miles, we somehow decided that running the Wildwood would be a suitable alternative.

After a couple of post-H2C lackluster weeks of running, I'm back in business!  Despite my husband being out of town all last week, I managed to get some good miles in.  I also did something over the week that I haven't done in a long time; I left my watch at home.  I've been so obsessed with my pace the last few months, that I haven't had a relaxing, fun run in awhile.  I had been pushing my limits by trying to go at as fast of a pace as possible on every run that it mentally, not just physically, became work to go out for a run.  Make no mistake, I still pushed myself, but only slightly outside my comfort zone.  But without a watch to focus on, I wasn't distracted with calculations and predictions in my head, and I was left to simply enjoy the run and my friend's company.  

Pub Run Tuesday

My sister-in-law was gracious enough to come and watch the kiddo so I could join this bi-weekly event.  Apparently I wasn't the only mama to be solo parenting this week, because 4 out of the 9 ladies who showed up with kiddos strapped in jogging strollers.  I was instantly impressed because our pub run route is quite hilly, and I can't begin to fathom pushing 60+ pounds of stroller and kiddo up those hills.  More likely is that I would have to chase down a run-away stroller on the downhill!  What I love about this group is how determined every mama is.  I finished with many of those stroller-pushing mamas close on my heels, one of whom kept pace with me the entire time!  I was quite impressed, and just a tad envious that I couldn't "smoke" them!

Miles: 2.5

Time: Not the foggiest idea

Saturday morning at Forest Park

Miles: 10

Time: All I know is something less than 1:40 

Sunday morning at Fairmount

Miles: 3.5

Time: 32 minutes

Despite a rough start, this past week was much better for me, running-wise.  I still haven't kicked this cold, but I feel like I'm on the road to recovery.

Track Tuesday

My stomach was still feeling iffy from whatever I came down with on Sunday, but I was determined to show up for the track workout. Four out of the five of us who showed up are running Hood to Coast, and the three of us who did last week's workout masochistically liked it enough to want to repeat it this week. 4 x (600m at race pace, immediately followed by 200m sprint).  I just hope my stomach wouldn't complain too much.

I actually forgot to pace myself in the first round.  I went at a faster clip and chatted with my friends.  The general rule with speed workouts is that you're supposed to be running fast enough where it's difficult, if not impossible, to talk.  It dawned on me right before the sprint that I might not be conserving enough energy to complete the workout 3 more times.  But as I kicked into the sprint, I was determined to actually sprint, not just run faster.  I turned over my legs like my life depended on it, and I pumped my arms so much I could feel my biceps burning at the end.  When I crossed the finish, I was relieved to have ran one, and yet excited to run another one.  

My goal in every track workout is to keep each repeat consistent; that is, the time I run each repeat should only be within a second or two of each other.  This week was not the case.  I progressively got slower and slower each time.  My lungs were taxed, my legs jello, and my arms burning by the third repeat, and I sincerely doubt I actually sprinted during the sprints.  And each time I added a few more seconds such that I had a 17 second difference between the first and last repeats!  At least I jogged most of each recovery lap!

But I was still proud of myself.  I seriously thought on my drive over to the track that I should run conservatively or else risk collapsing on the track. Having felt sick even earlier that day, I was afraid to give it my all.  My husband tells me I'm underestimating myself, that I am probably in the best shape of my adult life.  Maybe he's right, but I still have a lot to work on!

Miles: 4 (warmup, 4x(600m, 200m) w/400m recovery, cooldown)

Times: 3:42, 3:51, 3:54, 3:59

Tempo Thursday

I planned to run an easy 2-4 miles on Thursday, and I figured my best opportunity would be that evening.  While my husband usually puts the kiddo down for bed, I tend to try to get some work, wash dishes, or surf the internet.  I had changed into my running clothes when I got home from work, so I was good to go.  I had some time to sit on my ass and let my food digest before going out for a run.  

But I lost track of time.  Suddenly, it was 8:15, and I knew the sun was about to set.  I didn't want to run in the dark by myself (I reserve that for one day out of the year), so I scrambled to get my shoes on, gave a quick kiss good-bye to the husband and kiddo, and literally ran out the door.  What was supposed to be an easy, relaxed run turned into a 2-mile tempo.  I ran quickly through the neighborhood in an effort to get done before dusk.  Less than a mile into it I realized that I could ease up the pace and still be okay, but I was feeling fast and, more importantly, strong enough to do it.  About 10 minutes into the run I decided to forgo the 3 miles in favor of charging up one of the bigger hills in the 'hood.  I usually slow down the second (steeper) half, but this time I pressed on.  My lungs heaved like a chain-smoker up a flight of stairs, but I stayed on pace.  And my watch confirmed it: I had shaved off about 20-25 seconds from what it normally takes me to go up that half a mile of hill.  Woohoo!  

I was sweating buckets at the end, but I finished my best time on that route to date!  I have some work to do to break 8-minute miles, but I can see it in my sights.

Miles: 2

Time: 16:28

Double-run Saturday

I started the morning with the usual run at Forest Park.  Once again, the other mamas wanted to go 8 miles, but since I was planning on running later in the day with a friend, I only wanted to go 6.  Sonja was away, so I was left with the speedsters.  So much for running a relaxed 6 miles.  I chatted with Laura who was nice enough to hang a few steps back with me.  I think I could have kept pace with the leaders, but I wasn't up for the mental effort required.  I was able to hold my half of the conversation, but there were definitely unnatural breaks in my speech.  If your ability to hold a conversation is an indication of running a relaxed long run, then I haven't had a long run in months.

I reached my 3-mile turnaround at 26:03.  Whoa.  A quick mental calculation and I realized I had just run up the trail with a sub-9 pace.  8:41 to be exact.  Whoa.  I had been hovering around 9 the last few weeks, and even then it was labored.  I'd knocked almost 20 seconds off and I still had enough wind in me to talk!  I was certainly pooped, but I was re-energized to book it down the hill.  But since I'm still on the tail end of this ridiculous cold and since I was planning to run another 6 later in the day, I decided it would be better to run conservatively.  The last thing I wanted to do was bonk on a double-day.  

You know that kind of tired you get when you're sick and zapped of any energy you had such that you can't even get up to grab the kleenex box?  Well, that's how I started to feel with about 2 miles left.  I started to worry I was pushing myself too much and wouldn't have enough for the trail run in the afternoon.  But while my mind said ease up, my legs kept the same turnover, and I ended back at the trailhead in about 25 minutes.  

The last time I ran a fast 6-miler at Forest Park, I ended up taking a nap later in the afternoon.  This time I went to breakfast with my family, and then my husband needed to run a bunch of errands.  Since the kiddo was feeling under the weather, she and I stayed home, leaving me to play butler, housekeeper, and all around general personal servant.  By the time my husband got home, 6 hours after my last run, I needed to get ready to head back out the door to meet my friend.  

Never having ran on the Wildwood trail in Forest Park, Katherine was willing to meet me there for a run.  Wildwood is a 30-mile trail of some tough terrain.  I've panted from just hiking up some of Wildwood's hills, so I knew it would be a challenge, especially since it was my second run for the day.  But I've been wanting to run Wildwood for the challenge and for the change of scenery.

The thing with trail running is that it's more than just running.  It's so easy to trip, slip, or twist your ankle, that you really have to pay attention to your footing, and your core works to keep you stable every step of the way.  Katherine is just a few months post-partum, but I was working to keep up.  Our plan was to run 30 minutes out and then turn around and run back.  In the last 5 minutes before we turned around, as we ran down a considerable hill, Katherine informed me it was this very hill she struggled up the week before.  Great, I thought.  Sure enough, just a few minutes later, as we trudged up that hill, I was starting to kick myself. Why did I suggest Wildwood?, I thought.  Why didn't I just go easy this morning?

I huffed and puffed and struggled to pick up my feet.  We passed to hikers, who kindly said, "Wow, you guys are hardcore."  Normally that would light a fire under my ass, but I wasn't even sure I could keep going.  And just as I lost focus on the running and started letting doubt set in, it happened.  I tripped over a tree root and flew forward.  Thankfully, I caught myself (the benefit of running uphill, the ground is much closer), so I just dusted off.  But it took enough wind out of me that we walked a couple of minutes before continuing our hill attack.  By the time we reached the top, the exhilaration set back in, and by the time we finished I wanted to do it all over again.  

But this time, I'm taking down that hill.

Morning Miles: 6

Time: 51:33

Afternoon Miles: 6+ (and not quite 6.5, I'll pay more attention to the markers next time)

Time: 1:03:00

Tuesday track
The group did sprints in the precious track workout, so we decided to do something heard more for distance. 600m at race pace with a final 200m sprint. Recover for 400m.

The trick with longer distances for me is not pacing. It's finding a pace that isn't a sprint. Race pace for 600m doesn't feel fast; it almost feels easy. The final sprint takes some effort, but I still feel good at the end. But that's just the first round.

We lightly jogged a recovery lap, then toed the line for the second time. By the end of the first lap I was starting to huff and puff, and when the sprint came, I clenched my teeth (relaxed jaw, what's that?) like I was holding on for dear life. I crossed the finish line feeling like I was going to vomit. Each subsequent recovery involved more walking, and each round left me feeling like I had nothing left in the tank. By the fourth and final repeat, I was tired but felt great, knowing I had finished a grueling workout. And I didn't have to crawl to the end.

Miles: 3, 0.5 warmup, 2 miles of
Interval, 0.75 cooldown
Times:

Saturday's long run
I had every intention of running on Thursday, but I ended up going home early feeling sick. Friday was no better, and I got so little sleep that night, I wasn't sure I'd make it Saturday. But I wanted to get an 8-miler in before hood to Coast, and Saturday would be the best day to do it.

Sonja wanted to switch it up from our usual Forest Park runs. Since one of her legs is flat, we met up at the Waterfront. She and Amois planned to do 11, but I didn't feel up for that much running. Thankfully, we kept a slow enough pace (we had a new mama join us, and we wanted to stay together), that I felt ok for most of the run. But somewhere between 6 and 7 miles I started feeling hotter and more tired than normal, especially given our pace.

I held on to the end, but, admittedly, I was disappointed with our time and how I felt. I knew it was because I was under the weather, but that didn't console me in the slightest. It turns out I started feeling worse as the weekend progressed. I had hoped to run Sunday morning, but I had another night of crappy sleep, and I couldn't get myself out of bed...all day. It might have been the run, but I know that if I hadn't gone, I'd have been just as frustrated, if not more.

Miles: 8.5
Time: 1 hr 26 min

The week after my race was fairly light.  I wasn't very sore, which made me think I could have pushed myself even harder, but I spent my free time running errands and taking care of projects I had neglected for awhile.  I was still on cloud nine with my time, so I was motivated to run fast, even if it was for a short distance.  

Since I had two solid workouts this week, I wanted to give my legs as much rest as possible for yesterday's long run.  But with an active toddler, I found myself on my feet a lot.  I wanted to run 10-11 miles, but I wasn't sure how fresh my legs would feel by the time Saturday morning rolled around.  

We had a huge turnout on Saturday, which is great, but oddly enough, no one was planning on running more than 8 miles.  Most of the ladies had just run the Shamrock 15k, so they wanted to give their legs a bit of a break (I do realize 8 miles for normal people is not viewed as "a break").  But I decided I'd just go as far as they did and wait to decide if I'd run the extra 3 miles.  

Normally we start off in a pack and then the group spreads out into partners and individuals according to their own pace.  I hung back with a friend who tends to run slower, but I figured I'd be easy on my legs.  I stayed with her for about 3-4 miles, and then took off to catch up with my usual company.  When I caught up with them, I noticed that my legs were springier than in the first half of the run.  I didn't feel like running an extra 3 miles, but I didn't want to stop at 8.  As a middle ground, while they stopped and stretched before getting coffee, I ran back to the car, grabbed my wallet, and then ran back, adding about another mile and a half.  In the end, I probably could have pushed it with the 11 miles, but I felt great after 9.5.  And my time was one of my faster long runs, averaging a 9:15 min/mile.

I had read repeatedly that it can be harder to run slower because you are running that much longer.  It might be more effort to run faster, but you expend that much more energy overall when you run for a longer period of time.  I couldn't really fathom that until this run.  It turns out that running slower, even if it's a minute or even 30 seconds off pace, can be more work.  When I initially hung back with my friend, my legs felt tired, my turnover was neither smooth nor easy, and there were pauses in my speech.  But when I started to speed up to catch up with the others, I immediately fell into a comfortable stride.  My lungs pumped a bit harder, but my legs were happy.  It didn't take long for both to settle into a rhythm, allowing me to just run on auto and chat with my friends.  And then before I knew it, the run was over.  

This past week has really given me an opportunity to reflect on my recent strides (pun intended) in my running.  The workouts have given me cause for thinking that I might just be able to pull off 8:30/8:45 paces in Hood to Coast.  I'm looking forward to my 10k next month -- I'll be racing my heart out!

Miles: 9.5

Time: 1 hr 28 mins