As those of you who know me or follow this blog know, I've been running in organized races for nearly 10 years now. 5Ks, 10Ks, even a marathon in 2011 and another marathon just 18 days from now. I have a wonderful and expanding group of friends who run with me, and it's been an important part of my life.
And yet, since I started running, I've felt like a fraud, like I'm not a real runner. I run/walk most of the time, doing intervals to get through my various distances, so in the back of my mind, that felt a little like cheating, like I wasn't a real runner. And I'm slow, slower than most, often leaving me feeling like a real runner would be faster than me.
In the back of my mind, there has always been this nagging voice saying, "you're not a real runner."
Until Monday. Monday, I realized that I am a runner.
When I first heard about the horrible bombing at the Boston Marathon, like everyone, I was so sad, and so angry at the cowards that perpetrated this terrorism. But it was a deeper sorrow than I expected. It made me physically sick to my stomach and hurt my heart in a profound way that someone had done such a heinous thing at a marathon. Someone had done this to runners, the most encouraging and caring community I have ever encountered.
I was indescribably heartbroken for the 8 year old boy and two young women that were killed and for all the people that were mutilated and injured senselessly. But I was also heartbroken for the runners and the volunteers and the spectators because I have been a volunteer and a spectator and I knew what had been stolen away from them. I have been a marathon runner. It was incredibly personal. These were my people that were attacked. I felt sad that such a wonderful experience was stolen from thousands of people, that their tears were not going to be for the joy of accomplishment, but would instead be shed for the people hurt and killed and terrorized in the attack.
I realized that this hurt me so much because I am a runner. I am a member of this community. I realized that running isn't about how fast I go or whether or not I walk for a few minutes during a run. Being a runner is being part of a group of encouraging people, whether they be fellow runners, volunteers or spectators at a race. Being a runner means cheering on someone who is tired and stretching herself beyond her limits, or crying with your friends at the finish line as they finish their first marathon. Being a runner means I will do whatever I can to help this community that is hurting, even if it's just lacing up my shoes and going for a run (or a run/walk in my case).
And in Boston, being a runner meant running toward the danger to help out your fellow humans or running beyond the finish line to Mass General to give blood for the injured. Or, as I just saw in a story on Facebook, giving up your finishers medal to a stranger who wasn't able to finish because of the bombing.
I am a runner and in 17 days, when I run my marathon and get to experience that wonderful day that will stretch me to my limits and beyond, I will dedicate it all to my fellow runners in Boston.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Again?!?
Once again, my mouse clicks on the "register" button. But this time, I have a choice. Half or full? For some inexplicable reason, yet again, I click on "full".
26.2? Again?? WTF? I don't know why I do it. The last half I did in September was hard. Really hard. My feet started to give out at mile 11.5, and if it weren't for the injured hot guy from Florida that I was pacing and chatting up, I might have finished with an even worse time. So what makes me think I can do another full #*%*]^ marathon?
To be honest, I have more doubts this time. The first time, I didn't know what to expect, so my doubts were about the unknown. You might say that I didn't know what I didn't know, and that, in itself, is actually an advantage.
The second time, I didn't even make it to the start line. A leg injury happened, and being anxious to get back to training, a re-injury happened shortly thereafter, and I was relegated to the sidelines. Luckily for me, that experience was just as meaningful, cheering on my friends to the finish line and even jogging the last 0.2 with my friend, Sara, assuring her that the finish line was just around the corner.
The third time, it's different once again. I've finished one marathon, so I know I can do it. But I've also failed to make it to the start line, so I know even starting, let alone finishing, isn't assured. Plus, I want to not only start and finish it, but I want to do it better than last time.
So that is how I'm approaching this marathon. It's all about what I can do better in my preparation so that I not only beat that first time, but that I can make it to the start line with confidence.
I know I haven't written here in a while. Sometimes it felt like my running had become so normal and routine that I felt I had nothing new or interesting to say. Maybe that's why I clicked the "full" button. Because I don't want my running - or my life - to be normal. I want to push myself, do crazy things to remind myself that I still have a lot of life left to live. To exceed what I think I can do, even at the age of 45, and this time, it's not just about race day. It's about my life.
So I'm cranking up the blog once again, hoping that you will all indulge me as I share my thoughts, challenges, triumphs and failures. This time around, I don't just want to start, and my goal isn't to just finish. I'm shooting for an under 6 hour finish. For me, that's what we call a BHAG (big hairy ass goal, for those wondering). It won't be easy. It will involve not only a lot of training miles, but will involve more hills, more strength training, more types of cardio training, and most importantly, more of a focus on how I fuel my body for maximum performance. (More on that in the next blog.)
So here goes. Registration is complete, and I am an official entrant for the 2013 Vancouver marathon (first Sunday in May for those so inclined to come cheer me on). I will once again have my teammates - Janna, Lori, Sasha, Sara, Holly and Cindy (so far), which will make this a great experience no matter how it turns out for me.
Wish me luck.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
26.2? Again?? WTF? I don't know why I do it. The last half I did in September was hard. Really hard. My feet started to give out at mile 11.5, and if it weren't for the injured hot guy from Florida that I was pacing and chatting up, I might have finished with an even worse time. So what makes me think I can do another full #*%*]^ marathon?
To be honest, I have more doubts this time. The first time, I didn't know what to expect, so my doubts were about the unknown. You might say that I didn't know what I didn't know, and that, in itself, is actually an advantage.
The second time, I didn't even make it to the start line. A leg injury happened, and being anxious to get back to training, a re-injury happened shortly thereafter, and I was relegated to the sidelines. Luckily for me, that experience was just as meaningful, cheering on my friends to the finish line and even jogging the last 0.2 with my friend, Sara, assuring her that the finish line was just around the corner.
The third time, it's different once again. I've finished one marathon, so I know I can do it. But I've also failed to make it to the start line, so I know even starting, let alone finishing, isn't assured. Plus, I want to not only start and finish it, but I want to do it better than last time.
So that is how I'm approaching this marathon. It's all about what I can do better in my preparation so that I not only beat that first time, but that I can make it to the start line with confidence.
I know I haven't written here in a while. Sometimes it felt like my running had become so normal and routine that I felt I had nothing new or interesting to say. Maybe that's why I clicked the "full" button. Because I don't want my running - or my life - to be normal. I want to push myself, do crazy things to remind myself that I still have a lot of life left to live. To exceed what I think I can do, even at the age of 45, and this time, it's not just about race day. It's about my life.
So I'm cranking up the blog once again, hoping that you will all indulge me as I share my thoughts, challenges, triumphs and failures. This time around, I don't just want to start, and my goal isn't to just finish. I'm shooting for an under 6 hour finish. For me, that's what we call a BHAG (big hairy ass goal, for those wondering). It won't be easy. It will involve not only a lot of training miles, but will involve more hills, more strength training, more types of cardio training, and most importantly, more of a focus on how I fuel my body for maximum performance. (More on that in the next blog.)
So here goes. Registration is complete, and I am an official entrant for the 2013 Vancouver marathon (first Sunday in May for those so inclined to come cheer me on). I will once again have my teammates - Janna, Lori, Sasha, Sara, Holly and Cindy (so far), which will make this a great experience no matter how it turns out for me.
Wish me luck.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Seeing It All From a New Perspective
This is a picture of all of the bibs I've gotten from the many runs and triathlons I've done since 2003. It represents over 55 events and thousands of volunteers that have helped at these events - handing out water, giving out medals, directing me so I went the right way (except for that one time on Vancouver Island...) and being encouraging and supporting, telling me I just had a little further to go. This past weekend, I did something I've never done. I became one of those volunteers. After the many hundreds of people who have helped me in all those runs and races, I felt like it was time I gave back a little. It was an amazing experience.
Three of my friends and I volunteered for the Seattle Rock n Roll Marathon and Half Marathon. We had several friends who were running the race, and since I'd just done a half marathon a few weeks ago, I wasn't quite ready to run again. So we decided to support our friends by being on the course, helping out the event a little bit and being there to cheer them on.
We arrived bright and early at 6:30. I was expecting there to be a bunch of people volunteering and that we would probably be transported to a water station with a bunch of other people. Imagine my surprise when we called Jeff, our race contact, and we were the only four volunteers he had at his location.
Our job was, among other things, to "work the split." This was one of the locations where the half marathon and marathon courses split off, and it was going to be our job to make sure that the folks with the blue bibs (the half marathoners) went one way and the yellow bibs (the marathoners) went the other. A very important job. We helped Jeff put up signs, cones and other things along the course, and then we went to our posts.
I ended up working my post by myself, and in the hours I was there, I learned so many things.
1. A bullhorn in the hands of someone who is, shall we say, not shy, can end up embarrassing your friends who are running the race. My job was to direct the half marathoners to the left and the marathoners to the right, but I took advantage of the bullhorn to cheer on my friends when I saw them, much to their chagrin. I'm hoping that it was more inspiring than embarrassing to hear "Marathoners to the right; Half marathoners and Joy Kelly keep to the left."
2. People who come to these events just to cheer people on are awesome. These ladies in this photo were there for hours, and as far as I could tell, they weren't there for anyone in particular. They were stationed at the top of a slight hill on the marathon course, and they had great signs. But the best part about them was that every person who saw them and heard them cheering momentarily forgot how tired they were, got a big smile on their face and started running a little faster. Every single one. I don't know if those girls realized the burst of energy they gave to every runner that passed them. I don't know if they knew how important they were to helping someone continue on who might have wanted to quit. They were awesome.3. I'm not done. To date, I've done one marathon and had to pull out of a second one due to injury. Lately I've told myself that after one more, I'm probably done with marathons and maybe even half marathons too and will go back to 5 and 10K's. After last weekend, there's no way I can stop now.
According to my count, I saw three blind runners, each tethered to a friend or family member leading them. On the marathon course, the third place competitor at the 13 mile mark where I was working was a paraplegic. I saw people of all ages and sizes, all competing and struggling and succeeding. I saw people speeding up when they were exhausted to make it onto the marathon course before we closed the road and they were redirected to the half marathon course. I saw the last person on the course right in front of the police car, still running and still determined to finish.
I just turned 45 a few weeks ago. The way I now see it after spending a day volunteering, rather than being done, I've still got decades of marathons and half marathons to go. As long as my body lets me.
 |
| The Volunteers with our beloved bullhorns (from left to right) - Me, Shannon, Sasha and Sarah |
To give my water bottle to a woman who needed it.
To direct a guy who was so tired that he didn't have any idea where to go and actually needed me to point him to the right course.
To chat with a woman from Texas, who ran the half instead of the full because she had injured her ankle, while she waited for her friend that was doing the full marathon so she could run portions of the race with her. They reminded me of me and my running friends and how important and amazing that kind of camaraderie and support has been in my life.
To give back and honor all those hundreds of people who have handed me water, stopped traffic for me and told me "you're almost there."
What a great day.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Rehabbing and Getting Back in the Swing - I Need a Big Goal
It's been nearly a month since my last blog post, and if I'm honest, probably the first month where I've run truly pain free in nearly a year. When I last checked in, Team Napa was about to head south for the big race, but due to my injury, I was unable to run as planned. The great news was that it was a wonderful trip, and the Team Napa runners that ran the marathon all did amazing. Photos and recap to come in an upcoming blog, including a link to Shannon's Napa wine recommendations.
As for me, I'm getting back into my running slowly but surely. I decided to put the focus of my rehab running on getting ready for the Vancouver Sun Run 10K, one of my favorite runs of all time. This will be my 9th Sun Run, and this year I have the special treat of having one of my dearest friends, Anne-marie, who lives in Dallas, Texas, joining me and my Seattle runners for our Sun Run weekend.
I'm so proud of her because I mentioned months ago that if she wanted to get active, training for a 5K might do the trick. Then I casually dropped in the conversation that another alternative for her would be to train for a 10K, double the distance, and run her race in Canada, nearly 2000 miles from her home. She chose to go big and chose the Sun Run, and started training the next day. I get so happy every time she checks in with me about her progress because her running is getting better even if she can't feel it yet. Let's hope she loves the Sun Run so much that this is just the first of many race days for her (and the first of many Sun Runs).
This time around post injury, I've been approaching my rehab runs a little differently. As much as I hate the treadmill, I'm trying to do one day a week on there to work on increasing my speed. I think it has helped too because in the first two organized runs I've done since the injury, my minutes per mile have decreased by nearly 30 seconds per mile. Now, I'm slow, so that means going from a little over a 13 minute mile to around 12:30, but that's a big improvement, and I credit a lot of it to the treadmill speed intervals. So I'll keep that up.
The next change I've been working on is pushing myself beyond my perceived limits. Through my wellness coaching, one thing I've discovered is that I have a tendency to give up or pull back when things start to get a little hard. And as I've discovered, this isn't something that just shows up in my workouts. One great thing the coaching has taught me is that everything is a choice, even the choice between easing up or pushing harder. I've always believed that when I give up and pull back, it's because my body is telling me I need to. What I've discovered is that it's been my mind, and I can always go harder. This change is going to be the hardest, but this is one I'm committed to.
So on that note, it's time for the new challenge. A half-marathon in June on the Olympic Peninsula. This run has a few big benefits. First, it's 13.1 miles, definitely doable and a chance to improve on my previous half-marathon times. Shooting for under 3 hours, and if I continue to push myself, I can do it. Second, I will get to run with my friend Sara, whom I would have been pacing with at the Napa Marathon had I been able to run. So it will be great to run with her. Finally, my friend Holly is doing the marathon on this course on the same day, so I will be there to support her huge accomplishment. Holly was scheduled to do the Edge to Edge marathon with me last year but suffered an injury prior to the run. Like a true champion, she has stuck with it and will be completing her first official marathon this June, and I'm happy I'll be there to cheer her on (as long as I finish before her).
I will be blogging more about this phase of training, focusing a lot on this idea of pushing beyond barriers. We'll see how it goes, but I'm hoping you, the loyal readers, will help keep me accountable. Next week, I'll be exploring running nutrition and how pushing beyond barriers means putting down that piece of pizza. Stay tuned.
As for me, I'm getting back into my running slowly but surely. I decided to put the focus of my rehab running on getting ready for the Vancouver Sun Run 10K, one of my favorite runs of all time. This will be my 9th Sun Run, and this year I have the special treat of having one of my dearest friends, Anne-marie, who lives in Dallas, Texas, joining me and my Seattle runners for our Sun Run weekend.
I'm so proud of her because I mentioned months ago that if she wanted to get active, training for a 5K might do the trick. Then I casually dropped in the conversation that another alternative for her would be to train for a 10K, double the distance, and run her race in Canada, nearly 2000 miles from her home. She chose to go big and chose the Sun Run, and started training the next day. I get so happy every time she checks in with me about her progress because her running is getting better even if she can't feel it yet. Let's hope she loves the Sun Run so much that this is just the first of many race days for her (and the first of many Sun Runs).
This time around post injury, I've been approaching my rehab runs a little differently. As much as I hate the treadmill, I'm trying to do one day a week on there to work on increasing my speed. I think it has helped too because in the first two organized runs I've done since the injury, my minutes per mile have decreased by nearly 30 seconds per mile. Now, I'm slow, so that means going from a little over a 13 minute mile to around 12:30, but that's a big improvement, and I credit a lot of it to the treadmill speed intervals. So I'll keep that up.
The next change I've been working on is pushing myself beyond my perceived limits. Through my wellness coaching, one thing I've discovered is that I have a tendency to give up or pull back when things start to get a little hard. And as I've discovered, this isn't something that just shows up in my workouts. One great thing the coaching has taught me is that everything is a choice, even the choice between easing up or pushing harder. I've always believed that when I give up and pull back, it's because my body is telling me I need to. What I've discovered is that it's been my mind, and I can always go harder. This change is going to be the hardest, but this is one I'm committed to.
So on that note, it's time for the new challenge. A half-marathon in June on the Olympic Peninsula. This run has a few big benefits. First, it's 13.1 miles, definitely doable and a chance to improve on my previous half-marathon times. Shooting for under 3 hours, and if I continue to push myself, I can do it. Second, I will get to run with my friend Sara, whom I would have been pacing with at the Napa Marathon had I been able to run. So it will be great to run with her. Finally, my friend Holly is doing the marathon on this course on the same day, so I will be there to support her huge accomplishment. Holly was scheduled to do the Edge to Edge marathon with me last year but suffered an injury prior to the run. Like a true champion, she has stuck with it and will be completing her first official marathon this June, and I'm happy I'll be there to cheer her on (as long as I finish before her).
I will be blogging more about this phase of training, focusing a lot on this idea of pushing beyond barriers. We'll see how it goes, but I'm hoping you, the loyal readers, will help keep me accountable. Next week, I'll be exploring running nutrition and how pushing beyond barriers means putting down that piece of pizza. Stay tuned.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Here's To Team Napa
This Sunday, March 4th, is the Napa Valley Marathon. I am signed up to run the race, along with 4 of my friends. But unlike my friends, I won't be crossing the finish line this time. My earlier stress fracture, which sidelined me in October, never fully healed, and I reinjured my leg back in January. This second injury left me unable to run and train. The irony is that my leg is now pretty much fully healed, but with no training or much running at all for the last two months, my role this time is cheerleader.
This is a role I fully embrace. Even though I can't run, it doesn't mean I can't contribute. So to my running friends - Sasha, Sara, Cindy and Janna - I will be in the race with you, to offer my support, encouragement, advice, wisdom from my experience, a ride to the start line and cheering along the course. Finally, Shannon, Leonore and I will be there with celebratory wine at the end.
So to my four amazing friends, here are my words of "wisdom" about the big day. Of course, since this is also Janna's second big day, she knows all this stuff already, so she can skip to the end.:-)
1. Use all the fueling knowledge you've been gaining from all your long training runs. Sit down this weekend and really figure out what worked best for you and only do that.
2. Embrace the tears; they will come. Maybe at the end when you cross the finish line. Maybe when you see your daughter and husband cheering you on along the course. Maybe when, like me, you get so close to the end that you have that moment of realization of what you are about to accomplish. Maybe when you think about all the wonderful friendships that have been formed during this process.
3. Enjoy the experience. There will be times on the course when you will feel pain, and there may be times that you feel discouraged, like you will never get to the end. When that happens, stop and take in your settings. You will be running through the vineyards of the Napa Valley. It will be a 70 degree day. For the next three days, all you have to do is drink wine, go to a spa and eat great food with friends.
4. Appreciate the accomplishiment no matter how the day turns out. I am confident that all of you will do very well on Sunday. But in case the unexpected happens - an injury, nausea, or just some fluke thing that keeps you from officially crossing the finish line - know that you are all marathoners. You are doing something that only 0.1% of the human population will ever do. You are now part of an elite family no matter how this day turns out because all the hours and miles you've already put in to prepare for this day have made you all marathoners.
And beyond all that, please accept my gratitude for all the support you have given me, both when I was able to train with you and once I got injured. I am grateful for all the friendships that have grown throughout this process and will endure long after this adventure.
Finally, thanks to Mea, Holly, Janna and Tara for getting me through my first marathon. Without all of you helping me finish that first one, I don't know if I would have handled as well the disappointment of not being able to do this one. Long live the Baby Monkey.
Now let's go to Napa and drink some wine, shall we?
This is a role I fully embrace. Even though I can't run, it doesn't mean I can't contribute. So to my running friends - Sasha, Sara, Cindy and Janna - I will be in the race with you, to offer my support, encouragement, advice, wisdom from my experience, a ride to the start line and cheering along the course. Finally, Shannon, Leonore and I will be there with celebratory wine at the end.
So to my four amazing friends, here are my words of "wisdom" about the big day. Of course, since this is also Janna's second big day, she knows all this stuff already, so she can skip to the end.:-)
1. Use all the fueling knowledge you've been gaining from all your long training runs. Sit down this weekend and really figure out what worked best for you and only do that.
2. Embrace the tears; they will come. Maybe at the end when you cross the finish line. Maybe when you see your daughter and husband cheering you on along the course. Maybe when, like me, you get so close to the end that you have that moment of realization of what you are about to accomplish. Maybe when you think about all the wonderful friendships that have been formed during this process.
3. Enjoy the experience. There will be times on the course when you will feel pain, and there may be times that you feel discouraged, like you will never get to the end. When that happens, stop and take in your settings. You will be running through the vineyards of the Napa Valley. It will be a 70 degree day. For the next three days, all you have to do is drink wine, go to a spa and eat great food with friends.
4. Appreciate the accomplishiment no matter how the day turns out. I am confident that all of you will do very well on Sunday. But in case the unexpected happens - an injury, nausea, or just some fluke thing that keeps you from officially crossing the finish line - know that you are all marathoners. You are doing something that only 0.1% of the human population will ever do. You are now part of an elite family no matter how this day turns out because all the hours and miles you've already put in to prepare for this day have made you all marathoners.
And beyond all that, please accept my gratitude for all the support you have given me, both when I was able to train with you and once I got injured. I am grateful for all the friendships that have grown throughout this process and will endure long after this adventure.
Finally, thanks to Mea, Holly, Janna and Tara for getting me through my first marathon. Without all of you helping me finish that first one, I don't know if I would have handled as well the disappointment of not being able to do this one. Long live the Baby Monkey.
Now let's go to Napa and drink some wine, shall we?
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
It's Not Always Easier the Second Time Around
We always think that experience with something makes it easier. Knowing what's coming takes some of the fear away. Having the experience means you can do things differently the second time around, not make the same mistakes. Sometimes you even find that you don't write your blog as much because you don't need the accountability of others to do your marathon. You know what to expect, and you have no doubt that you'll finish this race; this time it's a matter of how much faster you'll be.
And then, sometimes, your plans get derailed in an instant. There may not be a second time around, at least not this March.
It happened innocently enough about a week and a half ago. I was doing a 14 mile training run on the Burke Gilman, starting at Marymoor Park and heading west. When I trained for my first marathon last year, this was my old reliable trail - nice and flat, good scenery, and the miles are marked along the way. I was making pretty good time too, under a 13 minute mile and approaching my turnaround at the 7 mile mark.
Cramp! Back of the calf, right around the area of the Achilles tendon. It wasn't a pain, more like a bad charley horse, but because of the location near the Achilles, I figured it best to stop immediately and walk. I never want to push it too much during training. Save that for race day.
As I turned around and started back toward Marymoor, I felt a little twinge with each step, and about a half mile down the path, I figured it might be best to find a place to call a cab and save myself another 6-1/2 miles of walking. Luckily for me, I had the good fortune of breaking down right near the beautiful Willows Lodge and hobbled over. They were great. Called me a cab and brought me a hot chocolate while I waited. Awesome people. Beautiful place.
When I got home, I spent the day with the leg elevated, icing the area and figuring that this was my reminder that a) I needed to buy salt pills to keep from cramping on the long runs, and b) USE YOUR FOAM ROLLER, LINDA! Got it. I decided to give the leg a rest from running all week, getting all my necessities and getting back out on Friday.
Friday was a gorgeous, but cold day. I had the day off because I was headed up to Suncadia for the weekend for what turned out to be a fabulously fun bachelorette party. Having the morning free, I decided to get back out for another long run. I turned on my Pandora to the 80's station and fired up my RunKeeper App. Ready to go, I took my first step and BAM! Cramp was back immediately. This time with a twinge of pain. I had done all the right things - stretched, rolled, hydrated - so now I was worried that this might be something else.
Yesterday I decided to go to the doctor, the same one who helped me with my stress fracture earlier in my training. I figured she'd tell me that I just needed to stretch more, wear better shoes, etc. But the instant I pointed out where the cramp/pain happened, she frowned and said, "Achilles." Uh oh.
Not to leave you all hanging, but I don't have the final diagnosis yet. It's either tendinitis of the Achilles tendon or it's a partial tear. I won't know until I have an ultrasound, and due to Snowmaggedon 2012 in Seattle, I wasn't able to get in to see the technician for the ultrasound until Friday of this week (and that's only if the roads clear up enough for me to drive there). After that, it's an appointment with a sports medicine doc. If it's tendinitis, there's a chance that resting it could get me back to training in time to get my long runs in for the marathon. If it's a partial tear, well...
When I realized yesterday that not being able to do this marathon is a very real possibility, it got me to thinking about how different this experience is turning out to be. The first time, the challenge was mostly mental and encompassed my fears of the unknown. Can I really do this? Will I finish last? Will my body give out in the middle of the run? Physically, I held up pretty well and once the race was done, all the fears washed away.
This time, it's not a fear of the unknown, but the fear of failing. What if I physically can't do this?
When I thought about this question, right away, a saying popped into my head. "You either roll with the punches or you get pummeled by them." I don't know if I heard that somewhere or if I just made it up. What that question showed me was that everything I've done this past year - the previous marathon, dealing with difficult personal challenges and most importantly, wellness coaching - has changed me for the better. Rather than believing I'll be a failure if I can't do this, my first reaction to the news was to look for the positives: I still get to spend 5 days in Napa with my friends; maybe I can volunteer at the race and help out; this means I can drink more wine! My first reaction was to roll with the punches, and that's a huge success and makes this marathon a success, even if I have to spend it on the sidelines.
I don't have the final verdict yet. That comes Friday. But whatever it is, I can roll with it.
And then, sometimes, your plans get derailed in an instant. There may not be a second time around, at least not this March.
It happened innocently enough about a week and a half ago. I was doing a 14 mile training run on the Burke Gilman, starting at Marymoor Park and heading west. When I trained for my first marathon last year, this was my old reliable trail - nice and flat, good scenery, and the miles are marked along the way. I was making pretty good time too, under a 13 minute mile and approaching my turnaround at the 7 mile mark.
Cramp! Back of the calf, right around the area of the Achilles tendon. It wasn't a pain, more like a bad charley horse, but because of the location near the Achilles, I figured it best to stop immediately and walk. I never want to push it too much during training. Save that for race day.
As I turned around and started back toward Marymoor, I felt a little twinge with each step, and about a half mile down the path, I figured it might be best to find a place to call a cab and save myself another 6-1/2 miles of walking. Luckily for me, I had the good fortune of breaking down right near the beautiful Willows Lodge and hobbled over. They were great. Called me a cab and brought me a hot chocolate while I waited. Awesome people. Beautiful place.
When I got home, I spent the day with the leg elevated, icing the area and figuring that this was my reminder that a) I needed to buy salt pills to keep from cramping on the long runs, and b) USE YOUR FOAM ROLLER, LINDA! Got it. I decided to give the leg a rest from running all week, getting all my necessities and getting back out on Friday.
Friday was a gorgeous, but cold day. I had the day off because I was headed up to Suncadia for the weekend for what turned out to be a fabulously fun bachelorette party. Having the morning free, I decided to get back out for another long run. I turned on my Pandora to the 80's station and fired up my RunKeeper App. Ready to go, I took my first step and BAM! Cramp was back immediately. This time with a twinge of pain. I had done all the right things - stretched, rolled, hydrated - so now I was worried that this might be something else.
Yesterday I decided to go to the doctor, the same one who helped me with my stress fracture earlier in my training. I figured she'd tell me that I just needed to stretch more, wear better shoes, etc. But the instant I pointed out where the cramp/pain happened, she frowned and said, "Achilles." Uh oh.
Not to leave you all hanging, but I don't have the final diagnosis yet. It's either tendinitis of the Achilles tendon or it's a partial tear. I won't know until I have an ultrasound, and due to Snowmaggedon 2012 in Seattle, I wasn't able to get in to see the technician for the ultrasound until Friday of this week (and that's only if the roads clear up enough for me to drive there). After that, it's an appointment with a sports medicine doc. If it's tendinitis, there's a chance that resting it could get me back to training in time to get my long runs in for the marathon. If it's a partial tear, well...
When I realized yesterday that not being able to do this marathon is a very real possibility, it got me to thinking about how different this experience is turning out to be. The first time, the challenge was mostly mental and encompassed my fears of the unknown. Can I really do this? Will I finish last? Will my body give out in the middle of the run? Physically, I held up pretty well and once the race was done, all the fears washed away.
This time, it's not a fear of the unknown, but the fear of failing. What if I physically can't do this?
When I thought about this question, right away, a saying popped into my head. "You either roll with the punches or you get pummeled by them." I don't know if I heard that somewhere or if I just made it up. What that question showed me was that everything I've done this past year - the previous marathon, dealing with difficult personal challenges and most importantly, wellness coaching - has changed me for the better. Rather than believing I'll be a failure if I can't do this, my first reaction to the news was to look for the positives: I still get to spend 5 days in Napa with my friends; maybe I can volunteer at the race and help out; this means I can drink more wine! My first reaction was to roll with the punches, and that's a huge success and makes this marathon a success, even if I have to spend it on the sidelines.
I don't have the final verdict yet. That comes Friday. But whatever it is, I can roll with it.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
3 Months From this Sunday
I have to say, this marathon is sneaking up on me much quicker than the last one. Maybe it's because of the stress fracture that got me off my training schedule for a couple of weeks. Maybe it's because I'm training in the winter this time. I'm not really sure, but there are only 3 months to go before I lace them up and try again, and that just seems like it's happening awfully soon.
What is different this time? Well, I'm definitely eating better, but because I've been sidelined, I'm not sure how it's working from a fueling standpoint. I hope to learn more about the effects of a better diet as I once again ramp up the mileage.
Another difference is that I know what to expect, and the fear of the race isn't really there anymore. Of course, with the injury I suffered, I'm a little scared that it not healing might keep me from completing the marathon. But I don't have the fear of the unknown this time, and in fact, I'm the one alleviating the fears of my new marathon teammates. Letting them know how it feels when you hit the wall, when you get that second surge, the mental games you play at mile 19 and when the tears hit.
The one thing that hasn't changed this time, though, is the camaraderie I'm experiencing with my fellow marathoners. This, by far, is the best part of committing to this endeavor once again just as it was the best part of preparing for the first one. There is nothing like the bond that forms when you are running on a trail out near North Bend in the pouring rain on an early Sunday morning when everyone else you know is inside and warm. And you know there is nowhere else you'd rather be. Nothing better than checking in on how many miles everyone did this week, how the bodies are holding up, what is the best plan to be following, and when we can all get together for another long run.
So even though time is growing short, I will enjoy every minute of every training run, every marathon dinner, every mega e-mail exchanged where we plan the rest of our Napa adventure. And I will be forever grateful for the teammates, both the new ones this time around and those that I shared that first experience with. You have made these experiences so rewarding, and it's because of you (and the future teammates that I convince next time around) that keep me agreeing to do these crazy things at my age.
What is different this time? Well, I'm definitely eating better, but because I've been sidelined, I'm not sure how it's working from a fueling standpoint. I hope to learn more about the effects of a better diet as I once again ramp up the mileage.
Another difference is that I know what to expect, and the fear of the race isn't really there anymore. Of course, with the injury I suffered, I'm a little scared that it not healing might keep me from completing the marathon. But I don't have the fear of the unknown this time, and in fact, I'm the one alleviating the fears of my new marathon teammates. Letting them know how it feels when you hit the wall, when you get that second surge, the mental games you play at mile 19 and when the tears hit.
The one thing that hasn't changed this time, though, is the camaraderie I'm experiencing with my fellow marathoners. This, by far, is the best part of committing to this endeavor once again just as it was the best part of preparing for the first one. There is nothing like the bond that forms when you are running on a trail out near North Bend in the pouring rain on an early Sunday morning when everyone else you know is inside and warm. And you know there is nowhere else you'd rather be. Nothing better than checking in on how many miles everyone did this week, how the bodies are holding up, what is the best plan to be following, and when we can all get together for another long run.
So even though time is growing short, I will enjoy every minute of every training run, every marathon dinner, every mega e-mail exchanged where we plan the rest of our Napa adventure. And I will be forever grateful for the teammates, both the new ones this time around and those that I shared that first experience with. You have made these experiences so rewarding, and it's because of you (and the future teammates that I convince next time around) that keep me agreeing to do these crazy things at my age.
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