After last week's "Sinus Break 2011"(so NOT the same as Spring Break 2007) finding the motivation to tackle my short runs was VERY hard! I was "gonna run" became a phrase I said several times after I hit snooze and listed a myriad of reasons not to pound any pavement. I did manage to get in two shorties this week adding up to a whopping 7 miles (should have done 12). The quitter in me would like to say "in my defense", but I will spare myself the long list of so called reasons and call myself out, just.plain.lazy. I won't lie, I kinda wished I never made this commitment. I kinda wished I had never blogged, not that I have thousands of followers, but sadly I have made myself publicly accountable. I didn't really want to do it any more. I mean who in their right mind wants to run 26.2 miles??? 4 years ago when I ran and 8:20 flat, ok maybe, today at 13:30, what am I thinking???? I must say it was a very inspiring week.
I did manage to remove myself from the couch to hit up Fleet Feet Savannah. I have always run in a neutral shoe, but after Spartan Sister and I chatted this week, she had similar knee pain that was caused by over pronating that developed over time. My body has been through a lot since my first visit to Fleet Feet. I have created and carried life x's 2 since my last visit (hell my feet grew an inch). So... I wasn't very surprised when the foot expert said "Oh yeah, you are doing a little something there." I was immediately fitted in a stability shoe. The very pale Kenyan told me he wasn't a doctor, but the pain I was describing should eliminate itself in about a week after sporting my new kicks. After a week of feeling demotivated I finally was excited to get back out there and conquer my 11 mile long run.
The alarm went off and I had a million and one reasons to get back in bed until Monday, but my super supportive husband convinced me otherwise. I laced up my new Brooks Adrenaline, strapped on my new Nathan water belt and headed out. I have shaved off a few pounds and by that I mean a cup size. I am looking slimmer, just not in all the right places ( oh yeah, I had to purchase some Body Glide, the name sounds kind of sexy...mmmm Body Glide. However I am using it to avoid chub rub from my arms, not the way I ever I imagined using a product called Body Glide). 11 miles here I come.
We had some nice sized storms the night before, so the weather was quite bearable. I was running and it was going pretty well. I got to about mile 4 when I really thought my toes were going to fall off. My knee was great, but my big fat feet were STRUGGLING! I had myself convinced that running back to the van, my sweet, sweet minivan, was the answer. After a short battle with the quitter and the winner I forged ahead, willing to sacrifice my lower phalanges if needed. I have a secret guilty motivator. His name is Meatloaf. "AND I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR LOVE...BUT I WONT DO THAT", I carried on. I was glad I did, just a few moments later a truck FULL (ok, just 2) of young college boys drove by, rolled down the window and gave this fat footed, flat chested, mama of two a "hoot". Fuel for the fire. I was amped. Run on mama, run on.
This scenario would have been great if I were in the last leg of my run, but I still had 7 miles to go. 7 miles to play it all out. It occurred to me that these boys may have seen my performance last week. I may have forgotten to mention last week that as I was running I got nosey. I thought I saw one of neighbors and got a bit distracted. One second I was running trying to look all professional and fit and spy on their AM activities, the next I am air born, turned around, and landing in the dirt. Busted it, on a major stretch of road in my humble little Boro. I immediately jumped back up and kept going. I was laughing. I wasn't hurt, well my pride was majorly bruised, but physically I was fine. It was about 45 seconds after the hoot that it occurred to me I was steps away from my blunder. These college cuties may very well have been revisiting the site they saw last week "That's the chic who busted her ass!!!!", after all I am running right in front of a grease haven, hangover remedy, ridden strip on a Sunday AM. Chances are I have seen these boys and they have seen me.
I finished this week's run with my pride intact. I battle my 1st 1/2 marathon next weekend. I have mapped it, and I am ready to go. After this week I go full force with Hal Higdon's training schedule. I am terrified. I can't even fathom running 18 miles in a few weeks, but just a few short weeks ago I was only running 5 feeling the same way about 10 and today I finished 11. This (pardon my french) this shit is getting real and fast.
Week 7: 18 miles
Lesson learned: Don't try to keep up with or worry about the "Jones'", you will land on your ass.
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