Willpower

Zero energy, all willpower.

I did not want to wake up this morning, much less force myself upright, into running gear, out the door, and around the resevoir. But I did. I did what I used to do in high school, where first period started at 7:20 and I had to wake up in the middle of the night to get there-- I counted down. I will lift my head and roll over and up in 60, 59, 58, 57....

I loosened up but never got that into it. It's sadly ironic that exhuastion prevents me from throwing enough into the run that it energizes me. At least I covered a few more miles and can check off another week day run.

At least I'm not one of the turtles who lives at the dirty end of the resevoir. I worry that they're being poisoned by the pollutants sitting mucky and still at the surface edges.

At least I have shoes. I hope the shoeless runners have had a recent tetanus shot.

When I hit the fifth or sixth 'at least' on my run, I know that what I really need to add to the training routine is sleep. Time to count down to Friday, also known as rest day or the day on which I get to sleep an additional hour in the morning.

Nutrigrain...

... is the secret to my recent success. They take zero effort from my insides to digest, are silent to eat in bed as soon as I wake up (and when I'm really considerate, I even step outside the bedroom to unwrap it), and have enough carbs and sugar to get me through the morning run without pangs of hunger stabbing through at the half hour mark.

My legs have been feeling no pain- and aren't even really tired after the long run on Saturday. I'm itching for the weekend, to be able to run farther than I ever have- again. That's really the great thing about the training at this point; it isn't all that often in otherlife that a situation provides an opportunity for both constant and quantitatively measurable improvement. And I love that.

This morning I ran four miles at a comfortable pace on very comfortable dirt and grass. I've decided to prioritize avoiding asphalt on my weekday runs, which means that in addition to seeking out the dirt paths (as I've been doing), I'm also hopping on the grass and running parallel to the road. My only worry has been that I'll step funny and strain an ankle. No problem- I'll keep an eye on the ground for the rougher, covered with longish grass stretches. WHACK. Just a tiny branch to the head. And that's how I found the greatest advantage to moving slowly.

10.28

10.28 by myself. Two laps around the park, cutting through the top at 102nd to slice off the Harlem Hill tip. It was a bump back the mileage before a big increase kind of week.

I spent Friday and the first half of Saturday wishing for a head transplant and retaining my will to live by taking too much knock-me-on-my-ass migraine magic pills. After a slow afternoon strolling the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens and some rest at home, I suited up, determined to get the Saturday morning long group run in by myself in the evening. It was cool and breezy, and would have been perfect had my not-quite-exactly-magic pills not sent me from worn out hungover to seriously nauseous. As my stomach flipped, I slipped off my shoes, and crawled back under the covers.

Sunday, I woke up, had three Nutrigrain bars, and headed out for a lovely couple hours. I felt all warmed up and hit a comfortable pace at the hour mark, and just kind of forced myself to focus on the fact that I was doing well in the moment, and not on the time and distance I had left. Mentally, the second loop was far easier than the first; it was nice to say to myself "I will not have to cover this ground again."

I'm sensitive to processed foods, with some of the preservatives and additives causing full blown attacks of the migraine, but I'm also increasingly concerned about all of the fake and chemicalized food that really takes effort to work around day in and day out. My head, stomach and energy level are all much improved by staying away from crap (I'm not talking about good quality chocolate here....). And the healthier I feel overall and the more I can exercise, the better my immune system does staying in whack.

My favorite part of the botanical gardens was the herb (and assorted other edible goodness) garden. I used to have a garden and thought I was pretty well versed in my veggies, but I was astounded by how many foods came from plants I would not have been able to recognize coming out of the ground. (See an artichoke to the right!)

Having a fertile vegetable garden has jumped up my life list. It'll take the place of the marathon.

Just keep swimming...

I've been tired this week. I haven't been totally irresponsible wasting time before bed, but it's awfully hard for me to go from work under pressure to dreamland in under an hour. And I have been getting to sleep around 11, which is much more difficult than the running.

Unfortunately, the tempo run was not going to happen yesterday, and probably will not happen the way it's supposed to, um, ever. In the morning, I'm sleepy and haven't eaten much (more consumption would require an earlier wakeup). I also feel seriously limited by the beta blocker which I take daily to keep migraines to a couple times a month rather than every other day. I've also gotten very hot very quickly in this stickiness.

This is not really to complain. I'm not upset or uncomfortable. I've kind of just accepted that my health is at a good equilibrium and, within the constraints that hold it all balanced, I just have to do what I can do. Tempo runs are important for increasing speed but don't really do anything for endurance training, so a poor tempo run record shouldn't affect my ability to finish the marathon. And I don't feel like the beta blocker is as much of a problem when it comes to endurance. My legs still feel good and I always feel like I can run more at the end of a long one. Must be a heart rate thing.

I did try to do part of a temp run today. I ran up to the resevoir and then increased my speed for a lap around it. My fast speed was about a 9:40 mile. And I felt it.

I ran it all without music, yesterday and today, and actually the long run on Saturday. I didn't bring it to the long run so that I would appear welcoming of distracting conversation. I thought it would be impossible to keep going without music; that I'd be totally dependent on the extra stimulation to keep my mind of the tiring task. Turns out I liked  the quiet. Or the white noise, at least. For part of the time I think deeply, and for most of it, not at all. It's like I'm perceiving everything but there is no processing going on, like looking out a car window when I'm sleepy. There's something easier about it, and more satisfying. For now, the music is staying at home.

Tempo? Pace? Help?

Just got an email from the coach informing us that tomorrow (for the group Tuesday evening runs that I miss because there is no way in hell I can get out of work in time) the workout is a tempo run. Quick tempo. How quick? Marathon pace plus 30-45 seconds per mile. Oooooh.

But what's my marathon pace? I mean, other than 30-45 seconds slower than my tempo runs...

Help. Me.


UPDATE: "comfortably hard" is what I'm going for, says Runner's World, "You know you're working, but you're not racing. At the same time, you'd be happy if you could slow down."

11.7

First run with the group and the coaching was... absent. They split us into three groups, mild, medium, and hot. I gravitated toward the woman who audibly called herself slow- er, mild.

The mild group was fast, but I kept up because I figured somebody had a plan and knew better. I kept toward the front of the mild pack and found that quite a few of us felt the pace was quite quick. A few women filled me in on the first couple weeks. It sounds like a fun group of runners who have had almost no guidance.

Since there was nobody to listen to, I decided to listen to my book, my dad, and my body, and slow down a bit. I felt much better for the last third even though I ended up running by myself between a couple sub groups of mild pack. Next time I'm going to bring music, walk one minute out of ten, and go at my own pace.

I really did feel good the whole way through though, and the course was fun. Saturdays in August are Summer Street days, which means Park Avenue is cut off to car traffic from maybe 7am-1pm. There are free bike and roller blade rentals, big water fountains, and dumpster pools and the local news reporters they attract.

We ran from Columbus Circle around the bottom of the park and up to 72nd on the east side, over to Park and down Park to the Brooklyn Bridge. Then all the way back up to 72nd, across the park there, and down to the start. We lucked into good enough weather that I didn't overheat, and I kept myself sugared up with Gu Chomp before the run and Jelly Belly Fast Energy Beans during.

I walked all the way home, picking up bagels on the way. Returned home to cinnamon challah french toast and iced coffee. An embarrassment of carboriffic riches, but this was looking like a two lunch day anyway.

Now I'm showered, in sweats and back in bed, where I belong on a Saturday morning.

Shirtless

Muggiest day yet. Happy to be back in the park, but the oppressive humidity just dragged me down. My shirt felt heavy. After shirtless running being off limits during the New Haven years, the option is extra specially exhilaratingly luxurious. I try not to do it out of modesty fear of too much cumulative sun, but some days it's better than the drink cart man finding me in a passed out pile along the side of the path. And it feels so good.

I've been worrying that I'll be the slowest kid in the class. Always have. Worried-- not actually been at the bottom. Reassurance comes from showing up and feeling like at least I'm not all alone in my boat. I hope somebody wants to train as I've been, walking a minute out of many run, and somebodies want to go around my pace. The power of low expectations. I like bars set low, in my own head or the heads around me. Then I can meet and surpass them. I like to be pleasantly surprised and surprise.

Next up: Saturday is 11.7 miles and my first run with the group.