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.

Ten

Just ran ten miles and I feel terrific! Huge confidence booster. I could easily have run another three without feeling too tired, and that's a half right there.

The best part is that I had a headache when I started and (perhaps stupidly) decided to try for my long run anyway. Five minutes in, I had to take serious migraine meds to abort the start of a real headache. My biggest fear going into this was that I'd get a migraine and not be able to take my drugs to stop it (since they work by suddenly dropping blood pressure in my noggin). Turns out that if I take the pill early enough, it can stop the migraine in its tracks and I can (slowly) just keep chugging. So relieved. So cheerful.

I can totally do this.

About to hit the fan

Another hour long run on the bike path yesterday- this time, in the other (better) direction. Awful humidity on the way out, sprinkles on the way in. Then sunshine and lots of additional racing back and forth through the shallow water with doggies trailing behind.

The times of being proud of myself for getting in another five miles are apparently over. I was supposed to do an eight mile run last Saturday, the first group weekend run that I missed for vacation. Oops. No problem. I shall jump right on to the bandwagon with a ten miler tomorrow. And then recover by floating in an inner tube with dead dangling legs. Someone- just make sure I'm holding my head up.

The plan, I've been informed by google group update, is for a long run every Saturday (starting at 8 and ending at 20 miles), "quality" miles on Tuesday (hills, tempo runs, various other torture), and three other runs during the week totallying an additional 8-16 miles.

So, the schedule is:
M: rest day
T: "quality" miles
W: shorter run (cross training or additional rest day if necessary).
T: shorter run
F: rest day
S: long run
S: easier run

Saturday runs are intimidating, especially since I'm jumping into ten, but the rest of the week looks fairly easy, and should be no harder than I'm doing now. Or at least that's what I tell myself.

I'm ready to get this show on the road and make some distance progress. Running five miles all the time really just gets me ready for a five miler, and 26.2  will arrive before I know it. 100 days from yesterday. The countdown begins!

Cape Cod

Vacation. (Vacation vacation vacation vacation!)

From everything except running. I haven't even been able to read; not a novel, not even a magazine. I just need to float and walk and stare out over the swells at the horizon. And decompress.

Today, day three, after several 9.5 plus hour nights, I ran. My dad and I spent an hour on a bike path, nice and easy, steady and consistent- as it always is with dad. And as always, half in conversation and half me performing a catch him up with everything monologue and him taking advantage of the time to catch his breath.

The thing is, though, of all people, you just know he's going to finish a run or a race. Not quick, but smart and the right mix of determined and matter of fact. It's how I've been thinking about my training and marathon. It seems appropriate to the circumstance of this marathon fitting into the rest of my life and me trying not to upset the balance that's working for my health. And it's what seems natural to me; it's what I've seen and what I've had explained.

We ran through a beautiful marsh right off the bay. Long grasses lined the best parts of the path, and we could see groups of bright white herons through the gaps. I felt sleepy tired by 45 minutes from the sun and puny pre-run breakfast, but my legs were fresh.

I'm not pushing it with running since, now that I'm rested, this week should be filled with more active play. This afternoon was the first little adventure- a walk through the woods to a warm glacial pond- of many, I hope.