Progress is progess. I think.

Here are how my runs have been lately.

1. Not happening
2. Amazing and awesome
3. Horrible

No middle ground.  If I get out at all, I either do fantastic and amazing and unicorns gallop next to me, or I make it a mile and sweat to death and wait for puddle-me to dry up and then I walk home.

Yeah.  I'm finished.

                                                                
Work BLEW UP in my face a bit ago.  A round of lay-offs that left more casualties than I was even prepared for left a small amount of people to do the jobs of...not a small amount of people.  Though, we're doing it, so I guess it can be done.  It's taken time to get things into a manageable rhythm but I did make it out for some runs of 5ish miles from time to time.  Not what I needed to marathon train, but at least I wasn't sedentary.  It does mean that I missed two long runs and I'll somehow have to find a way to get back in the swing of it.  If I wasn't too lazy to tab over to Garmin Connect I could confirm my longest run this month, but I'm pretty sure it was 10 miles.

How. Ev. Er! That particular ten miles that I am thinking of went swimmingly (as in hot and good, so ha!) and I rode the wave for a few days.  Broke my 10-miler record by 15 minutes!  Granted, I don't run 10 miles all that often. 

I've also broken 30 minutes for a 5k a few times now.  Almost enough where the excitement it wearing off when it happens.  Two months ago I started a race with an A-goal of sub 34 minutes and I killed it with a 32.  Now I'm all of a sudden thinking that 30 minutes could be my new normal.  That's the progress.

Endurance, however, is still something that I'm struggling with a bit.  Having little time to run and having that little time also occur during the HOTTEST AND HUMIDEST parts of the days make it seem almost unbearable sometimes.


Sometimes I get to run here.  Sometimes it sucks, but it's pretty enough that I don't care.

I realize that it's hugely mental.  When I peek at the humidity I can feel the doubt creep it.  I talk myself out of doing well.  I wish that I knew how to get over this hump, but I've not found a way to stop the doubt from creeping in. 

Hopefully fall comes sooner rather than later and the cooler temps help me stay cool and collected, too.

Why?

Why did I decide to run a marathon?

In part, because I want to be proud of something.  Admittedly, I've been using running as therapy and since I am not a very good (read: fast, fit, questionable endurance) this is probably not my best idea.  If you want to use something as therapy, as a diversion, it's probably wise to pick something you are good at.

Good idea or bad, it's happening, and it started because I am, for a nice change, getting better at this.  I am not fast and I likely will not be fast in time for this marathon.  I will take walk breaks, but hopefully less than I anticipated when I started training.  I'll be next to a good friend who can push me and will let me push her.

Bottom line is, my confidence is at an all time low.  Not my running confidence, but rather my entire being.  I realize it is a phase and that I feel this way because of a very unfortunate series of occurrences, but I really want to focus on something.

To finish something.

I want - for once - to be good at something. 

I want to sense of accomplishment that will come along with finishing this.

 I make my own quiet spots in the middle of rush-hour.  The view sure ain't something to be sad about.

The silver lining to running as therapy (aside from the lack of actual therapy bills - and also the lack of actual professional opinion, I realize) is that I'm turning negatives into positives, at least on the pavement.  I can be pissed at me, at him, at work, at family, at the whole damn world and it helps me pick up the pace - is motivating me in a way that I didn't think it would.  I thought going through all of this would motivate me to the couch cushion to eat ice cream and clean out my DVR.  Instead it has motivated me to leave work every day and get moving.  Into pants that are two sizes smaller than when this all started.  Into a pace that's about a minute quicker than I thought I was capable of.  Into a few extra miles before a walk break. 

I wish I wasn't looking for silver linings to begin with, but if good can come out of bad then it's at least a little harder to be sad.

The best reason to run a marathon?  Probably not.  But I very badly want the accomplishment and I hope it's the boost I need.

When you aren't accountable

I started this blog, a year ago, to keep myself accountable. 

I was running and I wanted to get better.  I wanted to get stronger, eat healthier.

I've done most of those.  I'm a little stronger, a little healthier, I've dropped some weight which I think made me run a little bit faster.

I'm also pissed.  I'm pissed at just about the whole wide world and it's helping my pound some pretty angry miles.  The angrier the miles the quicker I get.

I've changed jobs, had health trouble (over, thank goodness) and I'm about to be officially 'unmarried'.  For lack of a better word.  Or at least any other word I'm willing to use.

This year, instead of the Detroit Free Press International Half-Marathon I am going to run the marathon.  Galloway, of course, so I can walk a bit.  I'm feeling quite good about my training this time around and I am exceptionally motivated to stick to it. 

I am nervous, and still excited.  And now I need to keep myself more accountable than ever.

Quick whine

I think maybe running in the rain is the worst thing ever.

Aside from a quick (minus a human traffic jam around Comerica Park - I knew the Tigers were on the verge of post-season bliss, but I didn't expect to run into throngs of people around the souvenir shop)  three miles around downtown last Wednesday, I haven't run at all since the Women's Half.

Yikes.

The Free Press half marathon is in TWO WEEKS.

Double yikes.

I tried to get back on the horse today and was motivated to lace 'em up and run.  So, of course, two blocks from home it starts raining.  And then about a mile later it starts pouring.

Triple yikes.

I ducked under an awning for a few minutes and waited for the rain to let up.  It didn't.  I turned around and ran towards home, running though huge fat raindrops.  I couldn't see where I was going and I had to tuck my chin into my chest.  I lost my motivation after two miles.  I was hoping to get in at least 45 minutes, no matter the distance.

I was completely miserable.  I was back in my living room in 22 minutes.  I quit.

Detroit Women's Half

Spoiler alert: I finished.

The short version of what I guess I could make a long story is that the Detroit Women's Half was great.  Fantastic.  And I'm so glad that I was my first big race.

It was the inaugural year of the Women's Half, so of course there were some minor issues, but overall they didn't take away from the experience. 
Just to get them out of the way, they were:
Not enough portable toilets (Um, hi? you have 1,500 women signed up for a race.  For 1,500 women you need a lot of portable toilets.  You need like.....1,500?)
Not easy to find the start.  Right before the race started a very nice man asked us to "clear the course" when we were actually trying to weave through crowds to find a start line. 
Race started late.  I'd say about 15 minutes late?  Probably because all of the women were still trying to a) pee and b) find the start line!

 Here it is.  The one picture I managed to take. 

Now, onto the goodness that was mah race! 

I took of like a maniac.  This was in part because I was trying to keep up with my friends.  I knew better, but it was hard to stop myself because I was SO TOTALLY HANGING IN THERE!  Before I knew it I looked up and saw that I was right next to the 2:00 pacer, which was completely bananas.  I slowed down a bit and tried to find a comfortable pace.  I thought I had one when all of a sudden I felt a swift smack on my rear and saw my friends settle in next to me.  I was ahead of them.  This was a huge problem as they are light years faster than me.  I slowed down again.

And then I felt the pain.  THE PAIN!

My legs - my shins - they hurt.  But my feet?  They were numb.  It freaked me out.  I stopped for a minute to tie and then re-tie my shoes and settled in again.  I still hurt.  I reminded myself of how I felt during the Crim race and how it passed quickly and then I took advantage of an aid station and walked a bit.  I wanted to be so pissed at myself for walking so early in the race, but I knew that in order to finish I needed to take it easy.  I was right, by mile 5 whatever the pain/numby thing was had worn off, never to be felt again.

I fell in with another (much more manageable) pace group and started to zone out.  I felt fantastic.  Even running past a particularly bewitching volunteer that yelled "have the best runners passed you yet?!" (Thanks, lady.  Suuuuuper motivational!") while waving her iPad in the air.  I even had a few conversations with other runners along side of me.  Thanks to all of the walking that I did in the beginning I knew that my hopes of a 2:40 were pretty well gone, but if I held steady I could finish at about 2:50. 

I knew that the 3:00 pacer was well behind me, so I made it a goal to keep my pace and make sure that 3:00 didn't creep to close.  I fully understand, of course, that there are plenty of women that run full marathons in less time that this, but for me - training for my first big race, what I really wanted was just to finish, even if I was barely jogging! 

Before I knew it I was at the final turn (even though I had run by it on the first two loops of the island!) and was almost at the finish.  I gunned it as hard as I could toward the balloons and the noise and the crowds that made up the fantastically lively finish line, and made it in 2:51.  I wasn't mad in the least that I didn't make 2:40.  Finishing at all, especially under 3:00 had me so pumped. 

I will say that I was a freakin' genius for those few longer runs on Belle Isle.  The spectators and cheer teams were mostly friends and family that had traveled for a specific runner and weren't so lively when strangers ran by.  Running loops around the island was nice and pretty the first time, but the second time around I was thinking really nasty thoughts when even thought I knew I was on mile 9ish I was running by a sign that said Mile 4.  The second time I saw that little red bridge I thought about just swimming across a pond and cutting a mile or so off the race.  Having the memory of running by landmarks on my training runs was off-the-charts helpful in estimating how far away from other big points I was.  I felt like kind of a genius for practicing on the actual course. 

I sure have babbled (typed?) more then necessary, so I can wrap up quickly.  The medals were cute, I found my friends, we ate some peanut butter roll ups and cheese and then I went home.  The next day I dropped some things on the floor and had to beg my coworkers to pick them up. 

I loved every single second of it. 

(And I'm definitely looking forward to the Free Press half-marathon.  I'll be wearing throw-away clothes.  I may have forgotten to mention how shiveringly cold I was at the beginning.)

A 5K with a 10 mile warmup

This coming Sunday is the Detroit Women's Half, and I will be running it.

I decided to sign up for this race shortly after I really got into running.  I had run a 5K and while I was pretty pumped to finish the race, we've already discussed my frugalness how cheap I am, and while the bright yellow Hanes cotton t-shirt was a neat?  It was decidedly...less than bitchin' swag.

Sure, there was fitness, camaraderie, some pancakes and all those high-fives at the finish line, but if I'm forking over my cash, I want more.  Medals.  Tech shirts.  Awesome stuff.

I needed to run longer races.  Longer races come with stuff.

Right after I found out about the Women's half I picked up an issue of Women's Running with a 14-week 1/2 Marathon plan.  I was almost exactly 14 weeks (13 weeks and 3 days) away from the race, and I've tried my damnedest to stick to that plan.  Sadly, one work trip and some crazy shin splints cut my long runs short twice, meaning that 10 miles is the longest I have ever run.  And this Sunday I need to run 13.1!


A friend told me to just pretend that I'm running a 5K, and since I know I can run 10 miles, pretend that the 10 miles is just a warmup for the last 3.1 miles.  Clearly, my friends are super nutty.

Since I'm only a week away and I know I can't run an 11 mile long run and still be ready for 13.1 miles this weekend, I did what I thought was the next best thing.  I've run twice this week on what will the race course.

 I went back to Belle Isle.  And played with the panorama on my iPhone, clearly.

The race course is a loop that is run 2.25 times.  I've run it 1.25 times once, and 1 time around yesterday.  If I keep the same pace, I should finish the half in 2:40 (it's my first - and we've established that I'm still slower than slow) but I hope that the atmosphere and adrenaline from the race will cut some time off of that. 

Honestly, even if I don't make it in 2:40 - I really just want to finish.  I'm so excited to run in this race, but I'm also terrified.

Terrified that I won't finish. That I'll be dead last.  That I won't have any fun.  I'm even terrified that the girls I'm running with will be mad they have to stay on the island until I finish.  I know that I'm only psyching myself out, but I can't help it.

I'm a really super excited kind of scared. 

Golab K

I ran another race on Monday, since Labor Day provided me with a much needed day off of work.

As has been the case with me lately, I followed my pattern of good run, bad run, good run, and so on...

I wasn't going to run Golab K because I'm broke and decided that if I was going to race, I'd make it worth my while.  I want at least two of my three critera to be met: 10K or longer distance, righteous shirt (preferably tech), medal.  This race was none of the three, but like the good Polish girl that I am, I caved and registered about 4 minutes before Active closed registration.

I should have saved the money.

The race itself was pretty nice.  Low cost, decent swag (a tote bag with a running cabbage on it isn't a tech shirt, but it still can't be beat) and in one of my most-loved cities on planted Earth, Hamtramck.

I stunk up the entire course.  Maybe the Crim with it's fancy swag and rowdy spectators spoiled me but nothing was really speaking to me on this particular day.  My legs were killing me only a quarter mile in, I walked at least half the race because I was so desperately thirsty that my throat was sore and I tripped in pothole because I wasn't paying attention.  Not everyday it our day, you know?  And Monday was without a doubt not mine.

Despite my outrageously poor showing, as long as Golab K is put on, I'm running it.  The course was fun, running though main streets, back alleys, a football field and even for a short time on the Labor Day Parade route!  We also pounded pavement past quite a few of my favorite bars and it took everything in me not to stop my sore legs, rip off my bib and pop in for a beer.  The race was really (really) small - there wasn't even a marked start line! - and it was the perfect amount of campy and small town, just like I'd expect in Hamtramck. 

I was pretty pissed after crossing the finish line and just turned around to watch a few more runners cross the line and then went back to my car.  I never stopped my GPS and I didn't stick around to see the race times posted, so I'm not sure of my actual time.  This is probably for the best.