Runners Tell All: Well, That Was Bad

 

Topic: Share a bad race or training experience and what you learned from it.

 

So, I’m pretty sure if you’ve been around for a while you know exactly what I’m about to reference.

 

My Non-Marathon Story.

 

It’s long detailed but that is absolutely my worst race, hands down. And it wasn’t actually anything about the race itself, really just the circumstances (*ahem* shitty weather closing the course on me *ahem*) of it all. Making a goal and working towards it for 5 months only to have it slip from your feet 2 miles from the finish line takes a toll on your emotions.

 

It’s been nearly two months and I’d like to say “I’m all good now!” but whenever it pops up in my mind, or I see someone post about their training, I get all side-eyed with myself. Because certainly had I trained harder, I would have been faster and already been done, right? Or perhaps I should have paid closer attention to the course itself before I registered? Maybe I needed more hill training? I shouldn’t have walked, I could have kept pushing through – I think? It’s probably because I didn’t eat enough carbs the week before. Yep, that’s got to be it.

 

After the constant barrage of what-ifs my mind has slung at me since March 2nd the one thing I know for certain that I should have done before my marathon is this -

 

Take into account the unknown

 

I had absolutely no doubt in my head I would cross that finish line. And it wasn’t that I was focused on a certain time, I had allowed myself to acknowledge that it may not be the time I want but DAMMIT it was going to be a time. And, I think for training, that was a good thing. I wanted it and there was nothing that was going to stop me – but then there was. And for me personally, I prefer knowing all my options before going into something.

 

For example, when I was pregnant I knew I wanted an epidural and to deliver vaginally. HOWEVER, I also knew that things happen so I also researched breathing techniques/pain management and c-sections just to cover my bases. I also (I know this will sound morbid, but this is how I roll) looked into stillbirths, etc. Because that is also a possibility. I felt prepared. Much like I felt I was prepared for my marathon ending.

Having the weather close me down wasn’t even an option on my radar and it was an unknown that I did not account for. I really think had I even considered the fact that I may not cross the finish line, I wouldn’t have had such a hard time adjusting to the idea that I’m not an ‘official’ marathoner despite the medal, t-shirt, and months of training. Which, I still haven’t worn my medal – the only reason it’s hanging up with my other ones is because Alfred put it there. I had it in the junk drawer at our house.

 

I think some people do well not knowing the outcome of things, I am not one of those people – and so, for my future marathon (and other races) – taking in all the possible outcomes is definitely on my list.

 

Selfish or Selfless?

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Welcome to 30 Topics; 30 Weeks! This link-up is scheduled for every Wednesday over the next 30 27 weeks. Week 1 and Week 2 posts here.
As a quick run down, it’s based on these two articles – here and here. You are free to take the topics in any direction you like – I am only providing a guideline to get the ball rolling. Hell, I may not even follow what I wrote. But as long as it relatable, I’d love for you to link up! No pressure, I promise. :)
You can find more information on each of the weekly topics by clicking here or downloading the PDF by going here.

Let’s get started!

I (like to) think that most people put others in front of themselves. I’m believe that people are generally kind-hearted and good-natured. I think part of it (for me personally) is genetics, if you’ve met my immediate family we’re all a little loony and over the top in our happiness and then there’s also the way I was raised.

I’m a Christian.

And while I don’t talk a lot about faith in my blog, it’s always there guiding me in how I act towards the world. One of the things that really stuck with me since I was a 5 year old walking to church 7 blocks away on my own because I didn’t want to miss it, was the kindness and selflessness I found in the church. That was something I wanted to reciprocate and put into the world. I equated that with love (and still do mostly) and so, I often have found myself stepping back in order for someone else’s happiness to move forward.

To be honest, I like the way it makes me feel. I like to make people happy just like I enjoy making people laugh – it’s just who I am. But that can also put my own happiness on the back burner – for the most part, it’s small things that make no real difference. I’m laid-back and grudges aren’t my thing, so it’s easy stuff to gloss over.

Me: I really want to eat chicken tonight.
Other Person: Hey, let’s go eat steak instead.
Me: Sure, that sounds good too.

But then there are other times – like training for a marathon where I really struggled with the time I was committing to myself. Because the time I was committing to that (which was more than I really anticipated) was taking away from my family – particularly my daughter. I’m proud that she knows ‘my faster shoes’ and that I’m leading by example (something I didn’t have growing up) but it still is unsettling to me knowing some of her happiness turned into sadness. Especially when I had to tell her I couldn’t take her here or there because of running commitments/injuries etc.

It was certainly a strain on our family near the end as my mileage increased. But running makes me happy, so they were supportive. Running really helped me find myself when I was struggling and it ultimately made me much more pleasant to be around.

Pursuing my own happiness in this jungle of emotions I share for other people is certainly something I struggle with. I’m also a people-pleaser, so I have a hard time telling people ‘no’ when they ask for help even if it’s something that will over exhaust myself or my family. I’ve gotten better over the years but that yearning to pull back and push others forward is something I think I’ll have conflicting emotions with for the rest of my life.

Okay, it’s your turn! Link-up below and share your stories or comment on my post with them (if you don’t have a blog).

Post Non-Marathon Life

Last week I wrote out a wonderfully long blog post detailing the horror of my first marathon. Or non-marathon. You know, since I didn’t actually get to cross the finish line of 26.2 miles – instead it was like, 23.5 miles.

Toe-may-toe, Toe-mah-toe, though, right?

I remember distinctly finding a ton of articles on the post-marathon blues when I was researching training plans 6 months ago and wondering what exactly that would feel like. I kind of skimmed over them since I really had no reason to look at them, with like not having completed a marathon or anything at that point.

But so you know, PMB basically means you’re sad at life. You committed and worked hard to achieve a certain goal and now you have nothing to, for a lack of a better phrase, look forward to. You’re just there. With this medal (or non-medal) hanging out trying to figure out your next step.

Do you sign up for another one as soon as possible to try and beat your time? Do you choose to step up your game and look at ultra-marathons? Or triathlons? Or do you simply stop doing any freaking thing that is remotely fitness oriented (other than wearing race shirts) and ignore your feelings altogether by drinking fruity cocktails your husband prepared?

DING! DING! DING! We have a winner!

It’s not that I haven’t thought about it – especially since I have a half-marathon coming up next weekend that I signed up for before marathon day (not exactly my smartest decision) – it’s just that I haven’t cared too. The first few days after the marathon, I could chalk it up to giving my body a break. I had just ran nearly 24 miles in really crappy conditions and I was all sorts of emotional about it. But by Wednesday, I was no longer sore and really had no excuse.

I simply didn’t want too.

I figured to get myself out of the funk, I’d make myself go for a run that Friday – nothing forced, maybe 2 or 3 miles – but my husband had other plans. He couldn’t handle the fact that I officially had a better story to share with friends/family concerning my marathon so he just had to do something about it.

He decided to hammer metal to the point that it splintered and flew into his eye, cutting it. Like, literally cutting his eye. Not the area surrounding his eye. Or the lid. But the actual eyeball itself. It’s called a corneal laceration and resulted in 5 stitches. In his eye. He had emergency surgery Friday, was home Friday night (it’s an outpatient procedure which is crazy because there are stitches IN HIS EYE) and needless to say, any idea of my wanting to go out for a run was quickly vanished as he became the priority.

Here he is hopped on pain killers after surgery channeling his inner pirate.

Also, I’m a filthy liar because he in no way planned on doing this to outshine me on the pity party story. But he has. Damn one-upper.

He should be able to regain full vision back but it’s going to take time (2-3 months possibly) and well, that’s frustrating for him because he needs to see to do work. And that’s frustrating for me because, well, if you’re married or in a long-term relationship, or live with someone, or basically have had any interaction with anyone ever in your life you know why – people get pissy when they’re frustrated and can’t do things they’re used to doing.

Like bending over. Picking things up. Or anything that would strain the eye in any capacity. 

For someone who is a farmer/plumber/operator, uh, that’s next to impossible. So, prayers are always welcome as well as any positive thoughts you may have lying around.

Anyway, that’s pretty much been my post non-marathon life. Not working out & taking care of dead eye. It’s been an interesting couple of weeks.

Hopefully we can follow up these shenanigans with non-eventful and boring weeks. They may not be glamorous but at least they don’t result in hospital bills, am I right or am I right?

Have a great one, friends!

My Marathon Story

This is the only picture I could currently find – courtesy of the Buffalo Soldiers MC Killeen – TX

I don’t even know where to start with this. Probably because I’m still trying to figure out what I feel about my very first marathon. Sometimes I think back and want to give myself the biggest pat on the back and say, “Damn. You went for it, girl. Who knew you had it in you?” and then other times, all I can do is feel like I somehow failed because when it comes down to it, I only completed 23.5 miles out of 26.2.

And despite what many people have told me, 23.5 miles is not equivalent to a marathon (even if the waddle in my step for the past few days wants to argue otherwise!)

…and I’m about to start crying again.

It’s been going on like this for the past few days. This rollercoaster of emotions, which probably looks pretty similar to the elevation chart for The Army Marathon. Ba-dah-bing, ba-dah-boom.

Oh, yeah, in case you’re wondering I’m one of those people that channels sadness into cheesy jokes and awkward dance moves. I won’t confirm or deny whether I did something similar to The Robot just then.

I thought about starting this out with an apology for the length of this post you’re about to read but that would be doing myself a disservice seeing as I want to remember this - all the good and the bad. But mostly I’m going through it all so I can remind myself that I’m capable of anything even if the circumstances are completely shitty. Phew. Okay. Here we go.

I woke up Saturday morning with a twinge in my back, I tried to ignore it as I got ready to pick Lillie up (she stayed with her grandparents the night before) so we could head to the Expo and pick up my bib and race bag swag. It was faint but nothing to really call home about. I popped an ibuprofen but by the time we were heading back (it’s about an hour and fifteen minutes from my home) I knew what was happening.

Back spasms.

A little background – right after I had Lillie I began having back spasms. Since all the muscles are connected, not only my back hurt but my ribs as well.They were so bad I made my way to the ER at least twice in the year after Lillie because I thought my gallbladder or appendix was about burst. They also have a tendency to make me throw up. Like, a lot. And they would last for days. I went to a chiropractor for months and he helped me immensely (Dr. McMullen in the Waco, Texas area. Highly recommend). He showed me stretches, adjusted my back and he explained why he thought it was happening. Basically, I was overweight, had bad posture and my purse (and diaper bag) was entirely too big/heavy and it was throwing my spine out of whack. The spasms were just a way my body was trying to straighten me up. Once I started working out regularly, they vanished. I haven’t seen him in over a year. If I did have a spasm, it would maybe last a couple hours and was manageable.

Back to the current spasms – they were intense, so I panic texted Mojgan who advised me to take some Advil, take it easy and stretch. I slept off and on throughout Saturday afternoon, while Lillie got her fill of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. She typically only gets to watch 1 episode a day, so this was like a vacation for her. Kids can be pretty intuitive and depending on what’s going on it’ll either be really creepy (read: But mommy, there’s a weird man in my closet) or right on the money, so she knew something was wrong with me and would randomly come and rub my back or try to bring me Gatorade without me asking. Alfred came home (he was out working all day) put Lillie to bed and I felt slightly better so I got all my things together for the morning. Alfred and I made a plan for what I expected to happen the next day and filled Emilie in on it as well via text. I planned on leaving the house at 4:45 am and did not intend on forcing my husband and daughter to wait around for 6 hours for me to finish. So, Alfred & Lillie would ride with Emilie, Justin and their son, Tanner (aka TanMan). Once everything was figured out, I managed to eat a popsicle without it coming right back up and just prayed the spasms would lighten up just enough for at least most of the race.

I woke up Sunday morning seemingly spasm free. I pulled on my running capris, yellow tech shirt (I wanted to be bright so Alfred could find me!), Spibelt, music, watch, shoes and after glancing at the weather grabbed my red pullover just in case. 

The weather started out close to the 70s. It was beautiful running weather. I crossed the start line feeling excited and ready! Mile 1 went quickly and I seemed to be right on pace with where I wanted to be. This great feeling continued on until right about mile 8. At that time, it felt like the temperature was drop kicked off a fucking cliff by a gawdang Spartan. It just kept going down. I was starting to see my own breath. It was now in the 30’s and with the wind, it felt more like the 20s.

Miles 8-13 were not fun. But not because my legs were tired – they actually felt really strong. It was my hands that were over it. I simply couldn’t feel them. I was running into the wind which made it worse – I couldn’t even open the zipper on my spibelt to get my fuel out (I went with strawberry shotbloks). I had to get the volunteers to do that for me at the water stations. They had swollen to about twice the size they normally are. I already have sausage fingers, so yeah, it was intense. I wish I could have taken a picture.

Anyway, I’m not ashamed to admit I kept looking for gloves on the side of the road that someone may have dropped. Spoiler: I did not find any. I started telling myself just make it to the halfway point. I kept moving simply because if I stopped to walk, I would start shivering and it felt so much harder to pick my legs up to get going.

By the time I hit 13.1 miles (at 3 hours, so I was right on pace with what I expected/hoped for) my back spasms reared their ugly head. I finally cut on my music to try and focus on the lyrics and kept moving forward.

Then the sleet started coming on and off. It wasn’t bad but it was there and I could feel the tiny iced rain droplets attaching themselves to my eyelashes. The bitches.

I was at the end of the pack, there were maybe 2-3 runners behind me but when I hit mile 15 I started passing people. My legs still felt good (or numb, whichever), my back spasms had stopped and the way the course was set up I wasn’t really running into the wind anymore so my hands were halfway thawed out. I started focusing on the person in front of me and before I knew it, I had passed 5 people by the time I was coming into Mile 20. I looked at my watch and knew at that point, I probably wouldn’t finish by 6 hours. It’d be more like 6:20 but I didn’t care. It was happening.

I started tearing up a bit as I ran past that Mile 20 marker. I knew that I was going to do it – I was going to run a fucking marathon. I wish I could bottle up and sell that feeling to you people, because that shit was golden.

When I closed into Mile 21 I saw Alfred, Lillie, Emilie, Justin & TanMan (BTW – I couldn’t ask for better friends!) I was ridiculously excited and I yelled for Alfred to grab my gloves. He crossed a 4 lane highway to get to me (my hero!) and then proceeded to warm my hands up under his armpits. Classy, I know. I didn’t want to waste a lot of time, so after a couple minutes he helped me put the gloves on. And by helped, I mean he did all the damn work. I am not exaggerating when I say I couldn’t feel my fingers. He had to guide each one into the correct finger and it took at least 10 minutes. Later on he told me I also had ice on my face but didn’t want to mention it to me at the time thinking it might freak me out.

He’s a smart man.

I took off feeling revived! My husband, my daughter, my friends were here! My hands were warming up! I was so close! Then I heard it.

Lightning.

LOUD lightning.

I vividly remember saying out loud, “No. NO. NONONONONO.” The Army Marathon had already expressed in their emails/facebook that their was a possibility of closing the course if lightning struck. But I was almost there. I could feel it. That finish line photo. That medal dangling from my neck. That feeling of “FUCK YES I RAN 26.2 MILES BITCHES”

And in case you are wondering, crossing a finish line of something you trained 5 months for abso-fucking-lutely qualifies as a reason to curse.

I started speeding up (or at the very least I felt like I sped up) and then the wind started howling. And the clouds started darkening and at mile 22 a police officer pulled up next me on his motorcycle. My heart briefly sank as he said, “We are closing the course. It’s no longer safe. You can try to finish it out but we are picking people up. Someone will be by in a little bit.”

I don’t even think I looked at him as I briefly said, “Okay” and pushed forward thinking well, he did say you could finish it out so that’s what I’ll do. I don’t care what the weather says. I got this. I can’t get this close to not finish. NO. At least he’s not telling me I’m so slow they’re going to pick me up. Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts.

And then it started getting worse. And rain/sleet started coming down a little harder. I heard a motorcycle coming up behind me. I kept running as the office informed me the course was closing. I had to get into the car that was following him. I yelled, “But I’m almost there!” and he replied, “We’ll bring you to the finish line, you’ll still get your medal. You still did it. We know you would have finished but it’s not safe, now get in the car.”

He stopped his motorcycle. I turned and looked at him and in a last ditch effort to keep moving I said, “But my husband, he’s right up there. Can I just run to him?!”

Alfred wasn’t there. I couldn’t see him. But I could see mile marker 24. And the officer, God bless him, knew I was lying. He parked his motorcycle, put his arm behind my back and led me to the passenger seat of a small, green car as I wept. I wanted to scream and yell, “It’s not about the medal. It’s not! I just want to finish!” but all I did was cry silently in the car as we passed other runners being picked up and the lady driving tried to console me.

She drove me to the finish line, about 20 feet away, looked at me and said, “Come on. I’ll run in the rain with you! You did it! Congratulations!”

I crossed the finish line, refused to let them put the medal on me (actually, I still haven’t worn it. It’s sitting in my console in the truck as I type), they gave me a windbreaker jacket, and sent me to the warming tents where I silently cried as I sipped on chocolate milk and watched other rain soaked runners come in after me.

I heard a text message go off, so I struggled to get my phone out of my arm band, figuring it was probably Alfred or Emilie wondering where the hell I was. And then roughly 6 minutes later it rang.

It took me 6 minutes to get my phone out of my arm band because they’re were that cold. And probably would have taken longer if it wasn’t for a nice older gentleman (in his 50s) that saw me struggling and helped me out citing “Paternal Instincts”. He also covered me up with an extra blanket.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – runners are awesome.

I finally talked to Alfred, they weren’t able to get close to the finish line to pick me up but they had shuttle buses to a parking lot nearby and I could meet him there. About 45 minutes, I was changed into dry clothes (changed in the truck in the parking lot) and we decided it was time to go eat. To be honest though, I wasn’t feeling it. I just knew the kids were probably hungry. I stopped crying but continued to ignore all the wonderful comments on facebook/twitter from my friends and family who saw that I had crossed the finish line at 5:56:59.

I wasn’t trying to be rude by ignoring it. I was simply tired of thinking about it. Thinking about how maybe I should have just pushed away from the officer and kept going. Or maybe I should have trained harder to finish faster. Or damnit, Tamara, why the hell didn’t you just wear your gloves in the first place? There was a lot going on in my head. Eventually I did post a status to let everyone know what had happened.

The love and support from my friends and family was amazing. I’m seriously blessed to have such wonderful people in my life, whether it’s people I talk to daily or people I only interact with online. It definitely took the sting away from the huge hole of disappointment that had nestled itself inside of me.

But it hasn’t taken it all away. I don’t know if it ever will. This was my first marathon. This was supposed to be a day of joy, a day of laughter, a day of crappy race pictures to commemorate this amazing accomplishment.

And it felt like none of that.

I know, first world problems, right? I have so much to be grateful for.

This was the longest I’ve ever ran – mileage and time-wise.
I successfully trained for 5 months.
I did not quit.
I did not get injured.
I had some amazing races & accomplishments (2 PRs – 10k and half!) during those 5 months.

I am not trying to diminish any of those things but like I said in the beginning, 23.5 miles is not 26.2. And on some level, it feels as though I failed. My only goal was to finish. I couldn’t even do that. And while it wasn’t my fault that I couldn’t, that still doesn’t help the feeling.

As far as the race goes, I would definitely recommend The Army Marathon. They did a wonderful job! They had plenty of water stations with extra goodies (I consumed a fair amount of gummy bears and fruit snacks) and lots of cheering. This was a point-to-point race and we were on some fairly busy roads. We were constantly surrounded by EMTs going back and forth on the course and police officers directing traffic. It was well organized (Lillie and I got a TON of stuff at the expo) and went off without a hitch. The only thing I didn’t account for was that this is Texas. And even if Saturday was 80 degrees (it was) that does not mean Sunday will be. I swear we can have all four seasons in one damn week.

So, at this point the most common question I’ve had is, “When is your next one?”

And truthfully, I don’t know. I mean, there will be a next one it just won’t be anytime soon. One of the hardest things I’ve found with my training is working around my mom schedule and trying to keep that a priority. There were days when I felt like I was just going through the motions (because I was tired, or focusing on what I needed for my next run) and so, I knew that without a doubt that once I completed this marathon I would not complete another one for quite some time. At least until Lillie was a little older.

But now that I haven’t actually completed 26.2 miles, I feel like I’m in limbo. Should I just sign up for one and get it done? Or should I wait it out like I wanted to in my original plan?

After many tears this week (a lot of them while writing this post) I’ve decided that I’m going to focus on improving my pace. I want to get faster. I need to get faster if I want to train for another marathon and have more time for my family during the training process. Faster times mean I’m out on my feet less during my training runs even though I’ll be going the same distance. I’ll start with the 5k and move up from there.

I’m hoping by really trying to put in some speed work and increasing my strength (New Years Resolution), that this plan will really get me to where I want to be.

At the fucking finish line for my next 26.2 miles, wearing the shit out of my medal, finishing at a faster pace than I ever thought possible.

What I thought was going to be my moment may not have come when I hoped it would but I’ll be damned if I don’t ever get it.

If You’re Not First, You’re Last

Last Saturday, I laced up my shoes, threw on my skort (aka Chub Rub Loophole) and headed out to Woodway, Texas for a 10k race I had signed up for as my last official long run before my marathon.

This was my first time running this course (this was the 3rd year for it, but I think maybe the first for the 10k portion). I didn’t see much in the way of advertising for it and with our local running group, Waco Striders, putting it on I assumed it would be a fairly small race. I’ve done a few races they’ve timed & put together and it’s usually for local charities, etc so the turn outs aren’t in the hundreds or anything.

I assumed correctly. There were 19 people running the 5k and 18 people running the 10k. For the 10k it was the 5k course looped. It went through a park and a couple little residential neighborhoods. I remember thinking, “Wow. I wonder if this is what it would be like if I lived in the city and ran.” Since I live in the country, most of my runs are done on gravel while being mooed at by cows.

I started the course telling myself to just go easy and enjoy the fact that this was my last long run. Alfred actually came to this race but Lillie did not. Typically he has to work so while I often offer, it’s really not a big deal for me to go alone. I assumed he wasn’t going to make it so I arranged for Lillie to stay with her grandparents. It was nice knowing he was at the finish line though and it probably pushed me a little bit harder to finish.

Well, either that or the fact that I was the last person to cross the finish line and the cops were trailing me.

Oh yeah, go ahead – read that sentence again. The cops were following me because I was dead fucking last.

 

If you’ve been reading for any amount of time, I always set at the minimum the following two goals for my races:

1. Don’t poop myself.
2. Don’t be last.

But you know, being last? Wasn’t that bad actually.

Probably because while I may have been last during this race, I actually dropped my 10k time by nearly 6 minutes! And it’s 10 minutes faster than my very first 10k I ran in 2012. I crossed the finish line with my head held high and crazy happy. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The husband managed to capture me at my sexiest crossing the finish line. God bless him. My streak for having the “best” race photos continues!

I was thrilled to end my marathon training on this note. Even if it was the last note conducted on that day.

So, my next symphony, aka the marathon.

This Sunday.

EEK!

I’m making my lists and checking it twice, thrice, wayyyy too much and I’m trying to ignore these giant butterflies that have gathered in my gut.

The Army Marathon  notified us that they have live timer at certain points during the race, so I’ve linked my facebook & twitter. Sorry for being that obnoxious person but my thoughts are – maybe someone will comment or text me when I need it most (at the wall) and I’ll take all the encouragement I can get.

Next time I post from here – I’ll be a marathoner! YAY!!

Until we run again!

20 Miles

Last Friday I felt ready to tackle my long run for the weekend (20 miles). I had read weather reports and thought it would be similar to what I’ll encounter during my marathon.

In short, it was not.

But this is a blog, who wants the short of it?  So, let me give you the long of it instead. (Ha. That’s what he said.)

Alfred had to work Saturday morning, but I managed to convince my sister to stay the night Friday and watch Lillie for me in the morning. I wanted to do all 20 miles out on the road (since those miles always go faster than treadmill miles) and had planned to break them up into two 10 milers. After the first 10, I would be back at the house to refill my water bottle, let them know I’m still alive and then head back out.

I had a pretty horrible chafing experience during my 18 miles, so I slathered on some Vaseline, procrastinated a bit and hit the door about 8:30 am. I wore a pair of running capris, a long sleeve tech shirt, my Spibelt (filled with my phone & some GU) and had my water bottle.

Well, I thought I had my water bottle. By mile 3 I realized I had forgot to grab it. Instead of turning around I figured I would just power through.

Note: Do not “power through” a 10 mile run with no water.

I had expected the clouds to open up and the sun would beam through around 9:30 am and things would be glorious. That did not happen. It actually seemed to get colder, the wind picked up and I was running through mist/fog situation that seemed as though it was out to get me. Pretty similar to Lost actually.

Around mile 4 & mile 6 of my run I had to take a miniature break and run some cattle that had gotten out onto the road back into the pasture. Country life, y’all.

At about mile 7, I was so fucking over it. I felt like I was barely able to pick up my feet and my body felt cold. Like, I felt warm but touching my actual body it was freezing. I didn’t wear a jacket or anything because I had thought it would warm up. I told myself just to make it to 10 (I’d be back at the house) and then I’ll just go from there.

I knew the second I walked inside I wasn’t going back out in the weather and I sent the husband a text to say as much.

Normally, I love his tough love approach (it usually does the trick) but this time - turns out, I’m a puss.

I finished the last 10 on the treadmill inside the house hating and loving the decision simultaneously. I was so red and cold when I came in from the first 10, my sister even gave me the side-eye. I managed to watch Hercules and answer 20 questions from Lillie while I did the second 10.

Mom, why you running?
Mom, where is bear?
Mom, where is my milk?
Mom, can I have candy?

…and repeat.

About mile 5 I seriously considered bucking the fuck up and finishing outside just to get away from the questions, but then I looked out the window and settled on the lesser of two evils.

All-in-all, it was a shitty run. But it was still a great training run. For those that don’t run, that may not make sense, but for those that do – I know you feel me. I learned not to forgo water. I learned that Vaseline works wonders on chub rub thigh chafing.I learned not to underestimate the weather. I learned not to wear that particular purple tech shirt because it has a horribly placed tag on it resulting in a SpongeBob band aid.

I just took this photo, I promise it looked about 20 times worse than this on Saturday. Or maybe it just felt 20 times worse. Either way – sad face.

But I think the most important thing I learned was, even if the situation got shitty I still powered through and ultimately, I think that’s what I needed to know about myself before I tackle 26.2.

Here’s to powering through!

What do you know? A post about running.

So, let’s talk running. Specifically, let’s talk about my running. I mean, we can talk about your running if you would like but you’ll have to email me for that. You know, since blogging can be kind of one-sided when writing posts.

Well, if you haven’t noticed lately, I’ll be running my very first marathon in less than a month.

Before I hit the register button for this race I remember feeling incredibly nervous because dude, that’s 26.2 freaking miles I’m committing too. At one time. And I’ve continued to feel that way throughout my training – as well, as anxious, scared to fucking death and completely underprepared.

But you know what else I’ve felt throughout all of those emotions – really fucking excited. Excited for myself because not only have I come so far in my journey as a runner but excited to to know I can do it. I took something I once thought was completely impossible and turned it into a possibility. It blows my freaking mind.

You know what else blows mind? That last year 8 miles was my long run and this year it’s my short run. Cuh-razy.

I’ve increased my mileage from a 5k, to a 10k, to a half, to 16 miles (all done on a treadmill, mind you), to 18 miles and tomorrow, I’ll be able to add 20 miles to that list. Which means, after this weekend, I’m officially in taper mode where my mileage will be cut back so my legs are fresh for March 2nd.

I’ve been hounding the shit out of the website for the most current information and trying to figure out the game plan. I’ve even looked at weather a month ahead trying to predict what I need to wear.  And it looks like tomorrow and race day could be pretty similar. I’m hoping that’s a good sign for my two 10 milers I’m doing back to back (that’s what I’m telling myself because 10 miles seems much more do-able than 20.)

Things that make me nervous

• This will be my first point-to-point race. Everything else I’ve done has been out-and-back, a loop or at least ends up right back at the starting line, somehow.
• The course will shut down after 7 hours. That means there’s a 16 minute mile pace required. I don’t really doubt I can do that but then again, I’ve never ran 26.2 miles, so who freaking knows.
• This is The Army Marathon – there’s going to be some badass soldiers/veterans running this. I’m usually really good at not comparing myself with faster runners but I still can’t help but feel like I’m going to the last one to cross the finish line, or even worse not being able to finish at all.
• I had a serious chafing issue with my 18 miles I did two weeks ago and I really hope that doesn’t happen again. It won’t stop me from running, but it will slow me down and make the next week miserable. I only want to be normal miserable from a marathon not extra miserable. That makes sense, right?

I feel a little better after typing out my nervous points. Blogging – good for the soul.

I have two goals for this race.

Ultimate goal: Finish. With this being my first one, my focus is to cross the finish line and enjoy the experience.

The following goal is what I’m shooting for but not at the expense of the first goal. I don’t want to out so strong that I can’t finish.

Extra goal: Finish under 6 hours (preferably closer to 5:30). I am not what I think of as a fast runner (single digit miles) and I know I’ll be even slower trying to pace myself for 26 miles. Right now based on running calculators it has my finish time at 6 hours or later.

And there’s my running spill for the day. If you have any advice, etc please please comment or shoot me a message. I am not to proud to say that I will need all the help I can get come race day.

In other non-running news, I thought I’d update my blog for 2014. I used PicMonkey to edit my photos and then just kind of googled ‘how-to's’ for the rest of the content. I think it turned out pretty swell (please feel free to nod in agreement).

Stay safe out there this weekend, friends!

Miracle Match Weekend Race Recap

This past weekend I double upped with a 5k on Saturday and a half-marathon on Sunday plus I added 5 miles after the half on Sunday to give me 18 miles for the day.

Sounds crazy, right? It is but I have only 4 weeks until I lace up my shoes and throw down 26.2 miles so it was a necessary evil. And one that just helped affirm that while my legs may be tired and the sweat may be flowing from my pits, my mind & heart are ready to tackle this.

And what’s the thing they say about running being mental? Yeah. That. Anyway, less about marathon madness and more about race shenanigans!

For the past 4 years, I’ve ran the 5k portion of this race. It’s actually the first 5k I ever participated in (before I was hit with the running bug) and has kind of been a tradition for me since. I considered running the half portion last year but had already registered for the Houston Half and since I was fairly new to running longer distances, I wasn’t sure if could handle it.

Besides Miracle Match boasts as being the Toughest Little Marathon in Texas, so it was a little scary as a newer runner. Below is the elevation change/hills for the half marathon course from my Garmin.

I knew after I finished the 5k in 2013 that I would sign up to run the half in 2014, just to see. And when an email showed up in my inbox with a discount code for signing up to do a double race weekend, I couldn’t say no.  Also, 100% of the proceeds of this race goes to Be The Match to help people who need marrow transplants.

Yeah, not 80% or 90% but 100 freaking percent. How amazing is that? It was also one of the most personable & personal races I’ve ever run. I would highly recommend this race to anyone – even out-of-staters. On to the recap.

January 25th, 2014 5k

The weather was cold. With wind chill in teens & upper 20s so I went with running tights, long sleeve shirt, pullover, gloves (touch screen that I scored from my MIL over Christmas!) and a headband.

Overall, good choices. I was definitely over the gloves by Mile 1 and considered chunking them at My Emilie (who was awesome and volunteered at the water station!) but didn’t want to seem like a drama queen so I powered through the finger sweat. I didn’t want to really push crazy hard for this simply because I knew I was planning on doing the half the next day and overall, these races were set up as part of my marathon training. Last thing I want is an injury.

Time: 38:25 with a 12:23 average per mile.

My 2013 time was 40:30 with a 13:03 average per mile, so maybe not a 5k PR but definitely a course PR! Since starting to run one of my favorite things has been to do the same race each year (if possible) just to be able to compare. It’s a great way to remind yourself of where you are and that the work you’ve put in isn’t in vain.

Here’s a few race pictures from the 5k. They turned out, in one word, glorious. I seriously couldn’t stop laughing at myself when I checked them out. (Yes, it’s true, I’m easily amused.)

Totally not planned but couldn’t have been more perfect. Leo + Tam = Running Love

Once I crossed the finish line, Emilie & I had a girls day where we went to Target and then carb-loaded on some Italian food at Johnny Carino’s. I thought about taking a picture of my Smoked Chicken & Jalapeno Ravioli to share with you but then I took one bite and pretty much shoveled the rest in my mouth at an epic speed. It was amazeballs and I have no regrets.

January 26th, 2014 Half-Marathon

The weather was warmer (in the 30s) and it really was a great weekend for a race. Based on my experience for the 5k, I opted to not wear gloves and a headband. I thought I might still need a pullover so I started the race with a newbie I picked up at Target during our Emilie & Tam day. I’m actually wearing it today as I type this and y’all, it’s wonderful. I love it. The brand is C9 and everyone should have one. I wore running capris instead of tights (Christmas present from My Emilie. Have I mentioned lately how much I love her? Because I totally do.) and I recently purchased a SpiBelt to try/use for my marathon. This was the first race I’ve used it with and it did wonderful. I’ll do a review on that in a later post.

I started the race telling myself I’ll run as I’m comfortable and try to focus on just getting to the 13 since I had planned on running 5 more miles afterwards (and I did!) to make my total for the day 18. Almost immediately I felt a presence right next to me, same pace, same relaxed mode for at least a quarter of mile before she turned to me and said, “ 12:30 pace?” and I turned back and said, “That’s the plan. Fingers crossed, right?”

We introduced ourselves (side note: runners are amazing and wonderful and crazy friendly) her name was Adrian and her dad/sister were also running. We ran the first 6 miles together before we hit the hills. Once we got to the hills my plan was to speed walk up them and run down, her plan was to run the entire race so for the rest of the race I was a minute or two behind her.

This was at Mile 5 right before I ditched my pullover (thanks Adrian for holding my watch!) and just tied it around my waist. She really helped pull me through and it was nice having someone to run with for a bit.

At Mile 8 I got bacon. Like, literally, I got bacon. We were running through a residential part of the race and there was a group of 5-6 college kids in front of their home cheering runners on with cowbells. One girl had a giant bowl and as I got closer, I heard someone yell, “We got bacon!” So as I ran by I grabbed a handful and yelled, “HELL YEAH”. They started jumping up and down screaming, “SOMEONE TOOK THE BACON!” I popped a piece in my mouth and immediately regretted it. Not that it wasn’t tasty but it was bacon and kind of dry and I had no water for the next half mile.

I’ve decided that at any point in my life when I think something is going to be great and it turns out to be a bad decision I’m going to call it “Got Bacon”.

Yo, I decided to run a marathon but then I got bacon when my legs fell off at mile 21.

The race split up based on the race you were running right after Mile 5 too – the half went straight, the full & relay turned left and the 10k turned right. The half & marathon courses met back up around mile 10 I believe.

At Mile 11, the lead racer for the full marathon passed me. So basically this dude ran 26 miles faster than I could run 13. Dude was in beastmode.

At about that time I met another running partner (didn’t grab her name but she was from the Dallas area and said she loved the course and it was better than the Austin 3M she ran the weekend before – winning!) and we talked for about a mile before I started getting eager to finish and decided to push it a bit.

I know, I know, I run slow enough that it looks like I’m walking but I promise I was running. Also, the guy in the background is getting sassy about it, so don’t mind him.

I wasn’t expecting to run this (much harder) course any faster than my last race since I still had 5 miles to throw down but y’all, TOTALLY PR’ED ON THIS BITCH.

Time: 2:56:09 with a 13:26 average per mile.

When I crossed the finish line I was thrilled! I really think it helped that I had people to talk to during the race to keep my mind off the mileage.

I picked up my extra swag (for running two races, I ended up getting 3 shirts!), my medal and seriously considered grabbing a free fajita & margarita but instead I booked it to my truck and then to the house to finish up my mileage for the day on the treadmill.

I was exhausted by the end of it but I didn’t sit down (I do have a kid/husband to tend to) and tried to keep myself busy in hopes that I wouldn’t be too crazy sore come Monday. I finally sat down at 7pm to watch a movie with the husband and I didn’t make it 15 minutes before I passed smooth out. I woke up around 9pm with stickers on me (thanks Lillie) and a husband telling me I’d be more comfortable in our bed.

I moved around a lot on Monday to ward off the soreness, and it wasn’t too terrible. Mostly if I sat for an extended period of time (desk job, woohoo) and then sat up and by Tuesday there wasn’t much soreness left in me. HOWEVER, I did manage to chafe fairly bad on thighs (even though I wore capris) so I busted out the Desitin and am now aware that for my marathon I should probably have some Vaseline I can get to incase I need it.

Overall, this was a beautiful course that you should totally do. It’s for a wonderful cause and they really do a great job at making it personal. There were signs along the course for motivation and the volunteer stations really out-did their selves.

Until we run again!

Marathon Madness

Did you miss me? No need to answer, I already know.

I don’t have much of a reason or excuse as to why I haven’t been around much, other than life had me re-prioritize things for a bit (like hanging out with a lemur) and then I just got kind of lazy and thought…

“I’ll just post that tomorrow”

And then when tomorrow came, it was today and I had other things to do so I put it off until another tomorrow and now it’s a month later and I’ve somehow convinced myself to register for a marathon.

I wasn’t sure how to segue from not being around at all to being all like, “hey kids, I want to run 26.2 miles for fun! Who wants to join me?!” But I got to say -

Nailed it.

I’ve been somewhat willy-nilly with my training over the past couple of months – I’ll do great one week and then the next I’m lucky to get my running shoes out once. I just didn’t have anything to focus my efforts on and it all just went to the wayside. I had already planned on running a marathon (initially I thought it’d be the OKC Marathon) and with the registration for that not starting until September 1st – I’ve just been wandering aimlessly from one treadmill to the next.

Then, I got an email that mentioned The Army Marathon. It sparked a memory in me from all the way back to this past January at the Miracle Match 5k expo. I was checking out all the booths while I picked up my bib and happened to stop at The Army Marathon, it was their inaugural year this year, and they tried to convince me to sign up. Even though I had two half-marathons under my belt at that point I was not mentally ready to commit to the fact that I could run 26 freaking miles.

I started reading about dates/times and thinking how that would work with my current race schedule as far as training and y’all, I had no excuse. I couldn’t put it on the back burner any longer (much like writing for this janky ol’ blog y’all love so dearly) and I just said, “Fuck it” as I hit the register button.

And just like that, there was no turning back.

I still would really like to run Oklahoma but ultimately chose to go with this since it’s much closer to home for me (Killeen-Temple area). I traveled for my first half, and while it was an amazing experience, it also added a lot of extra stress I probably could have avoided.

Running 26.2 miles is no freaking joke and I want to be as prepared as possible come race day so cutting out travel seemed fairly logical. Also, this way I can force my family/friends to come & cheer me on along the way.

I’ve created a marathon schedule that I believe will work for me (please feel free to give me any and all your insights!) with my main focus simply being on finishing. My first official week was, uh this one. And I can already feel my focus on workouts coming back, it’s been a good week.

I kept stairs as a workout because I feel like that really helped prepare me other races – it’s hard work guys. Seriously, up and down stairs for 45+ minutes and you’re sweating like raccoon in a hat-making contest. Cross training with Moj is basically whatever strength workout Moj has cooked up for us to do. Today involved a lot of planks and incline push-ups. I seriously have no idea how I even put my shirt on after it.

I’m nervous but more than that, I’m really excited to push myself and see what I’m capable of. I can remember thinking there’s no way I’ll ever be able to run 3 miles and now, here I am ready to tackle 26. It’s a helluva feeling and I’m glad I get to share it with you guys.

So, you tell me – what’s something on your schedule you’re pumped about? I’ve missed y’all!