There's No Crying in Running

Whew... what a rough day. Today was the long run for week 10 of my 19 week marathon training. And it sucked. Hard.

I've been struggling the past few weeks with ongoing gut issues that have hindered my midweek runs and caused anxiety going into longer runs. I'm gonna keep it classy and stop this conversation in its tracks.

This morning I woke up with an upset stomach and feeling nervous about not having run enough through the week. The group was running out in Gull Lake (25 minutes away), so I needed to get up and get it together early. I did all the usual things, ate my banana and waffles, got all my gear together and left in plenty of time.

I arrived at Gull Lake to find that the gas station with the 1 solitary bathroom stall for 150 runners was closed, and the bathroom was out of order anyways. I choked back panic and headed for the woods. And met this fence:

There's a reason I never picked up steeplechase

The fence did not look like that when I started. I tried to hop it and the wet, rotted wooden fence gave way. I fell to the ground, scraping my arm and landing on my right ankle. I sat on the wet ground, fighting back furious tears, not sure if I could get up - and I still had to pee! Adding insult to injury of peeing in the woods - now my skort was wet from the ground.

I hobbled back to the group, about ready to pack it in and head back to bed. A team mate encouraged me to consult another coach who is an athletic trainer. He basically said given my pain level, I could try it out, see how it goes and hopefully get some miles in. Because once I stopped, sat down and went home, it's going to swell and will be worse tomorrow. So no easy out - and I started.

So I told Kathy (our pace group leader) that there's no crying in running - and then quickly amended the statement. Who am I kidding? There's definitely crying in running.

I won't give you a play by play, but will say that what could go wrong, did - including the stiffness in my ankle after stopping at water stops, cramping in my calves and hamstrings, and getting stung by something on my left foot. At the 13 mile point, we were back at the start - and I wanted to stop, but Kathy told me to put on my big girl panties (direct quote) and do the last few miles out and back. Fine. FINE. I did it. It was quite hilly and I walked more of those last few miles than I would have liked, but I did it. And now I'm icing and watching "The Spirit of the Marathon" on Netflix.

If you need me, I'll be on the couch.

A banner week

Sunday night... And week 7 comes to a close. (ok, I didn't get this posted on Sunday, but you get the idea)

It's been 7 weeks of training for the Marine Corps Marathon with the Gazelle Sports Summer Safari crew and I'm enjoying it more every week. It's taken me a while to settle in and I've had some set backs, but with just over a third of the training completed, I'm feeling calm and confident. Of course we haven't gotten to the tough runs yet, but I think I'm ready.

This was a GREAT week! I finally made it back to EcoTrek on Monday night, had a decent 4 mile run (including the dreaded Maple St. hill) on Wednesday, did 5.6 on Thursday with Shawn and Jenn, 8 miles with the Summer Safari crew on Saturday and hit my first ever Dirty Herd today for 4.4 miles of trails at Al Sabo. While the long run was shorter this week, I'm incredibly happy that I did 4 solid runs and EcoTrek. A really successful week.

I said a few posts ago that I would talk about being an "achiever" and a runner's body. As a "back of the packer," I'm currently at what I'd call "participant" status. I tend to categorize runners in three main clumps: Performers - those who win their age group, win overall, continually work up the ranks and really, you know who they are. We don't know many of these people.

Then there are the Achievers: those runners who have been running for years, have made steady progress in their PRs, finish in the top half of their age group and have a healthy dose of experience under their belt. I know a lot of people that live here. And a lot more on their way to this level.

I'm in the third category. Participants. We make sure there is someone for the rest of you to finish in front of. We are the beginners or veterans who are in the back of the pack, running 2:30+ half marathons. Hoping to run a 5:45 marathon. In the 12:00+ pace group. Our long runs take twice as long and our fast runs clock in at 5 miles/hour.

This sounds a bit like slow runner whining, but it really isn't. On Sunday afternoon, I pulled up to Al Sabo for the Dirty Herd, expecting at least 25 people, as the Urban Herd easily draws 50 - 75. There were 10. All experienced trail runners, marathoners and ultra-marathoners. I hesitated and almost got back in my car and left. Then the group leader recognized me from Summer Safari. As expected, I was the only slow runner. I did not expect to be the slowest by 3 - 4 minutes/mile. This was also my "recovery" run after 8 on Saturday so I wasn't planning on going hard. The group leader and his running partner kept looping around back for me, to make sure I didn't get lost and didn't make me feel bad about my slow pace, walk breaks or causing them extra miles. Considering they had run in the morning, run 5 miles before everyone got there and the running buddy said her last race was a 100 miler, I'm guessing they didn't mind. Talk about performers.

At the end, they asked if I got in the miles I needed to, if I felt good and if I had fun. The answer to all 3: a resounding YES! A huge push out of my comfort zone to go out and run with the gazelles, but I'm working every time to not be embarrassed by my pace or ability. Running trails is good for my strength and (relative) speed and if that means causing some speed demons to loop back to check on me, I'm ok.

Showing up is half the battle.

I'll leave you with a quote that Dave wisely posted several weeks ago:

"I don't have a runner's body, but I have a runner's heart - and that is all you need." - Sergeant Jennifer Morris, United States Army

Al Sabo Preserve, Meadow

OK... one FINAL word. I've made HUGE leaps in my fundraising for the Epilepsy Therapy Project. Please consider bringing me closer to my goal of $1500!