Week 7 .....lots to say....
Mon---Off (Swimming canceled due to a sick Cooper.)
Tue --- R4 (Supposed to be SL6, but the 100+ temp threatened to kill us and our plans were cut short. Look at us being sensible....woo-hoo.)
Wed --- Off (Once again, Cross Training canceled. This time I was the sick one.)
What a week. I didn't have much choice about my workouts this week. I just could not control the circumstances surrounding me. But mentally, I was beat up, too. My right leg hurt all week. It was bad enough that I almost took another week off and skipped L14. But I knew that mentally I would be beat down if I fell behind, so I made myself do it, and I have never been more glad.
I should add that even though I didn't "work out" much this week, I did do all of my strength and flexibility exercises at home that Chris gave me. And you know, I think they are working.
Thursday night I was very nauseated, and all from anxiety. I was so scared to attempt 14 miles. I cannot tell you how many times I prayed and what I said, but I will say this, I think the spiritual side of me is getting as much a workout as the physical side of me during this training. And that's good. It's unfortunate, but sometimes fear is one of the best motivators to drive me closer to God.
Friday morning started with Traci picking me up at 4:45am. Traci has picked me up this early before, but usually it involves coffee and Black Friday shopping. This trip......not as much fun.
Sneak Peek into last Friday morning, 4:45am:
Traci pulls her Honda quietly into my driveway. It is dark outside. My whole house is asleep. I quietly tiptoe barefoot out of the house, carrying my Nike's, my Camelbak, my breakfast, my Powerade, and my cell phone. (So much for travelling light.) I open up the door, sit down shotgun, and turn to look at my friend's tired eyes that reflect my own.
"Well," I say, "this was a stupid idea."
"Yeah," she answers as she backs out of my driveway.
What a good friend Traci is, to not mention that I talked her into this "brilliant" plan to run a marathon.
Because I have to be honest, it's not feeling like such a hot idea any more. I am not saying that part of me doesn't like the idea of it. I do. But these long runs are hellish. I have thought more than once, 'Why am I doing this?' But I have become addicted to endorphins. Mile 9 and I are BFF. I get a high that I cannot explain around Mile 9. Sadly, it only lasts until Mile 11. But for 2 miles, I am Superwoman! How can I prolong that feeling? I don't know yet. How do I accelerate that rush so that Miles 1-8 aren't quite as torturous? I don't know that yet either.
The conversations on the runs are priceless. They are old lady memories. That's what I called memories that I will ponder when I look back on my life someday, and reflect on what made me the happiest. I don't even know if the stories would be amusing to other people, but it reminds me of army buddies. Attempting something like this bonds you in a way that is unexplainable. No one else really "gets" it. And the good thing about running buddies is that they will listen to your physical complaints and never say, "This is not an illness. This is self-inflicted. So shut up, or quit." Running buddies just say, "Yeah, I could go for a morphine drip today, too."
Some of my fave clips of the week:
***While running on K-32 at 7am, we FINALLY saw another runner. She is our age, has our physical makeup, and she is wearing a camelbak! A soul sister! All three of us instantly loved that lone girl with the brown ponytail, and I could tell by her face that she loved us, too. Jen yelled, "Hello, fellow runner!" I was equally excited. "Did you see her girls? She looked like us!" (That is code for: She looks like a mom, and not a sinewy, muscle-y, "I-run-30-miles-before-breakfast" runner.) Or as Jen more succintly puts it, "Yeah, she's not a skinny bitch."
***Then there were the trains. About half dozen trains passed us this particular morning. And come to think of it, we saw trains in Parkville last week, too. And train conductors always give us an extra couple of whistles on the train. I consider it a show of support, not flirtatious. Because there is nothing cute about us after a few miles.
***The Six Degrees of Separation concept. Too true! Granted, Jen and I know a lot of the same circles of people, but I can't tell you how many links we have made lately, all while chatting on runs. We were talking about a newfound mutual acquaintance and Jen mentioned that he smoked a lot of marijuana.
Me: "No, can't be. He's very involved in his church. He's a very active Christian."
Jen (very seriously): "Yes. He has a strong faith,.... and a closet full of marijuana that he grows himself."
For some reason, after 8.9 miles, that statement was the funniest thing that I had ever heard. It's like being punch drunk. I could barely run I was laughing so hard.
These are the times when I LOVE to run. Laughter, freedom, sweating, friends.....it's the ideal break for a stressed out mommy.
And I have to tell you. For the first time, I now think I have a shot at finishing in Chicago. I don't care about my time, I'm slow, whatever. But my ITB issues were really concerning me. And I don't know if it's the prayer, or the new exercises, but my 14 mile run was virtually pain free. (Minus the toenail threatening to fall off and general soreness from such incredible abuse of my body. "Pain free" is a relative term.) I was able to run, not walk, but run, up and down my stairs after the run. That is new for me. Usually I have spent Saturday and Sunday babying myself so that I could hopefully work out again on Monday. But I feel good today. I am so grateful to God for this. I do not take it for granted.
And one more thing....does anyone but me hate food during and after a run? (I know not Jen and Traci....they were popping mozzarella sticks before we even got our heart rate monitors off last week. No judgment, just reporting the facts.) But I have to force myself to eat while running. The idea is so repulsive. And then after the run, I don't want to eat for hours. I make myself, because I know I need the protein to rebuild my muscles, but it is the most joyless process. And that is weird for me, because I am a foodie. Why doesn't food taste good after a workout? It's kind of ruining my whole fantasy about ordering the greasiest, fattest cheeseburger in Chicago about 10 minutes after I cross the finish line. Now, I do make up for it later, I guess. I ate about half a pizza last night. But the nutrition is very important post-run, and I'm having trouble getting food down. And I don't want to be the only weirdo, so I hope someone else has this issue, too.
Waist: 30" (Down 1")
Hips: 38.5 (Down 1.5")
Thighs: 21.5 (Down 1")
Bust: 37" (Same)
Calf: 14.25 (Same)
Bicep: 11" (Down 1")
BMI: 22.2 (Down .7)
Weight: 142 (Down 4 lbs since training started)
I am stopping Weight Watchers for now. I am still eating some of the same food, but if I follow it too closely I feel too tired to train. Even though I'm 7 lbs away from my original goal weight, I'm okay with that. I feel strong and healthy, and that's what matters.