I started running in April of 2010 and although I found many of the other running blogs inspirational, I could hardly realted to paces in the 8-9 min/mile range when I was struggling to make a 15 min/mile pace.
So here you go, a running blog for the slow girls!
We have been together for a long tine now. I remember when I first got you, back in the winter of '05 when you were the latest fad, who could have thought that all my music would fit into such a little machine? And more recently, when I started running again, you were a wonderful companion through those tough, early runs.
However, I think we both know that lately things haven't been working out. When I need you most, you just die on me. Time and time again, you have let me down. Like this morning, when you just died on me after only an hour and a half. And yes, I realize that I rely on you heavily, perhaps too much as I use you not only for music for as a stopwatch too. But still, you are not providing the support I need and you don't even communicate that to me....you just die without warning! It's not me, it's you.
So, I think it's for the best that we part ways. Now, this doesn't mean that you won't be in my life anymore, perhaps we could just be involved more casually, say on a friendship level? You can still partake in musical activities within the house, but for my exercise, well, you're just not what I'm looking for. We've grown apart and it's time to go our separate ways. Thanks for the memories.
I have been trying to abide by the "no excuses" principle lately but when I awoke this morning I knew that my regular run was out of the question. It was raining and while I don't mind running in the rain, I do mind (and fear) the risk of electrocution. We are in the height of thunderstorm season and have been pummeled by several strong storms lately. A quick look at the radar told me that I would be running right in between two big storms. Would I have been alright? Maybe, but this is not the kind of thing I want to play around with.
Still determined to get in a run, I was left with only one option: the treadmill. Which I have used exactly once before. So at the end of the day I went to the machine and dutifully got on. I was bored about 2 minutes in so I started fiddling with the controls.
I decreased the incline to 0% (oh! So this is what it feels like to run on flat ground) and then slowly started upping the speed into the uncomfortable range. Despite the fact that I spent the next 30 minutes just looking at myself (the gym has a wall of mirrors) I was actually able to maintain a 5 mile/hour speed most of the time.
In the end, I average a pace of 12:46 min/mile and felt that I had left everything I had on that dreaded treadmill. BUT, I am coming to realize that the treadmill may be a useful tool in the future in terms of learning to run faster.
Yes, I am back on the horse, or in the saddle or whatever the expression is! I got up early this morning and ran 2 miles. Also, realized that summer is quickly slipping away (sob!) since it was pitch black at 5:45 AM and I had to wait past 6 to start running (no way am I running in the dark!)
Another thing that I noticed is that I have been running faster. Not consistently, but I have these bursts of speed that I can sustain for several minutes before going back down to my regular slow jog or even walking. And while I am hardly breaking any records (I am now in the 13 min/mile range) I am hoping that slowly these moments will last longer and longer, and soon I will be able to string them together for a respectable amount of time
But for now, I am just glad to be running again and grateful that all my training wasn't wiped out by a couple of bad weeks.
Somewhere between a week at the beach, a crazy stressful week at work, and another short getaway, my running has taken the back seat in my life. This is not a good thing. The vacation was understandable, but when I put running behind work, the stress just builds and builds and without an escape, it just becomes a downward spiral.
Last week I ran exactly one time (5 miles) and haven't been to the gym for who knows how long. At last week's run I flirted dangerously with the line where a break is rejuvenating (ran at a 13 min/mile pace!) but if you wait too long it can set you back (I was wiped out for the rest of the day).
So, tomorrow morning I'll get up and start running again and hope I haven't lost too much time. I'm going to try my best to get back on the wagon.
I've read all the websites and books that say that water is really unnecessary if you are running under an hour, but I wonder if any of those authors have ever been to DC in the summer where the heat and humidity is so oppressive you barely want to leave your house, let alone go running.
I was trying to explain to a friend how miserable and sticky DC was in August and the best analogy I could tell him was this; slather on some heavy lotion, wrap yourself in a thick blanket and then turn up the heat and go sit in your bathroom with the steam full blast.
Bottom line: DC in the summer can be miserable. Which is why I was so upset when I *thought* my Camelbak had sprung a leak. I spent the rest of the day searching for a replacement only to learn that no stores in the DC area seem to carry the waist model, just the back-pack version. No need to despair, I logged onto Roadrunner and used an almost-expired coupon to order a snazzy new waist model.
A few days later, as I contemplated said snazzy new model, I saw that the Camelbak people offered a lifetime warranty on their products so I decided to give them a call and tell them about my leaking problem and see if they would live up to the warranty, especially since I had only been using the Camelbak for a few months.
Luckily before I gave them a call, I decided to give it one last try, just to make sure. Imagine my surprise when I realized it didn't have a leak at all! Yay! and also Booo! I missed out on my last long run for no good reason.
So why had the Camelbak leaked that fateful Sunday? I am guessing it was because I was trying to fill it with as much water as possible and I probably over-filled causing the water to leak from the cap. Also, just for good measure, I had gone ahead and stuffed a few ice cubes in there.
I'm not sure those extra few ounces I would have gained were worth the aggravation but I'm glad the 'bak is back!
Let me start off by saying that running on the beach is hard. Very hard. Either that or I am VERY out of practice. Since I am on vacation, I didn't set the alarm at some absurdly early hour but instead woke up and was ready to run at 8 AM.
My warm-up consisted of walking to the beach (about 2 blocks) and then across the beach to the water's edge (another 100 meters or so) and as I walked across the soft sand I couldn't help but feel (and look) like a drunken college girl, not that I have any idea what that feels like.
Once I got to the lifeguard chair, I looked around and realized I was pretty much alone, and just started running. It felt great, running again after so long, good music on the iPod but not so loud that I couldn't hear the crashing waves in the background. Also, I felt very safe, it was wide open space wherever I looked with no place for anyone to hide lying in wait to jump out at me. For the record, I live and run in a very safe neighbourhood, I'm just a tab paranoid.
So that was the first five minutes, and it really went downhill after that....For one, it was hot and although I didn't realize it at the time, I was running with the wind at my back which meant no sea breeze to cool me off. I passed a lot of people walking on the beach and I quickly realized that running on the beach is not for sissies and immediately began to feel out of my league. This actually happens quite often when I run, so I'm used to it.
About 15 minutes in, another woman runner passed me and left me in her dust. Again, this happens quite often, but I was most amazed to see that she was running without any water while I felt like I was crossing the Sahara and was guarding every drop in my Camelbak (yes, it's back, more on that later!). Right after she passed me, I took my first break. Not a walking break, but a real break where I hobbled over to the tiny sliver of shade by another lifeguard chair and wondered what the heck I was doing. Nothing like a little self-doubt to get your morning going.
Break time over, I ploughed ahead and with Atlantic City looming ever larger in the distance, I felt like I was in some sort of bizarre gambler's dream. As I neared the end of the route (and island) I ran out of hard sand and was left with the option of either soft dry sand or soft wet sand. I chose wet and immediately felt like was sinking into quicksand. I finally made it to the edge, where I was assaulted by a swarm of dragonflies while I admired (?) the casino's across the water, and turned around and headed back.
Ahh, what a difference a little wind makes. I am sure that serious runners avoid running into the wind because it takes precious seconds off their time, but to me it felt like heaven. I trudged on, all the while thinking that the hardest part was behind me and I just had to get back now. Along the way, a guy packing up a fitness class (yoga on the beach-how cool is that?!) offered me water from his cooler, but I just waved and said I had some but now that I think about it, I must have looked pretty haggard out there for him to be offering water to a total stranger.
Finally, I spotted the modern house at the end of our street, or so I thought. I was so close, I was so relieved that the run was over, I had gone too long without running and had paid the price, a lesson learned the hard way. But I just needed to go a little further and then walk back to the house where a nice cool shower awaited me.
As I approached the lifeguard chair I realized in horror that the number that corresponds with the street number was off by seven digits! I was not home yet, in fact I was still more than seven blocks away....I looked waaaaay down the beach to see a very similar modern house and the next lifeguard chair. At this point I wanted to cry. I was hot, tired and done. For a second I thought about just walking the rest of the way, but I had no choice but to keep running a little while longer.
In the end, I ran a little under 5 miles at my typical 15 min/mile pace but it felt like an eternity. Like I said before, beach running; not for sissies. Or at least not for this one!
So I've brought all my running gear with me on vacation and while I was scouting out local running routes, my husband suggested that I just run on the beach, on the hard, wet, sand.
"Nah....nobody does that, I'd look like an idiot, the only one out there, running on the beach"
Well, early this morning , we were the first on the beach (one of the "advantages" of vacationing with small children) and after we set up camp (who knew we required all this equipment, whatever happened to my days of a towel and a good book?!.....I digress...) I turned around to find several people running on the beach. Guess it's not such a crazy idea after all.
My concerns are: -sand in my shoes -how difficult it can be to walk, let alone run, on sand -gauging distance correctly
The last one is just my OCD-ness getting in my way and perhaps I could just go out there and run for a decent amount of time, turn around and run back? Hmmm, to be determined.
Oh, and just in case you're jealous about the picture, we're not really in a tropical paradise, but it's still the beach which, right now, is a lot better than home, where I hear the temps are in the triple digits (again!).
