Week 2!

So this week I was faced with running a total of 18 miles spread out over 4 runs.  YIKES!  Tuesday is 3 miles, Wednesday 5 miles, Thursday 3 miles, and Sunday is 7 miles.  I picked a training program for runners who have ran a half marathon.  When I trained for the half, the plan I followed didn’t have me run the entire 13.1 miles, only 10.  As I was coming to the last three miles of the race it was a lot of stop and go stop and go.  I had given up all motivation to finish the race.  I had forgotten about a few hills going back into Salem and just was done.  I had a little running buddy towards the end and it was very clear we both were struggling.  Two miles left and we grabbed each others hands and finished the race together. Needless to say, I will run 26.2 twice by the time all is said and done, I will NOT fail this time.

Tuesday. 3 miles. Treadmill pace 8:49. Actual pace 9:07.

I hate treadmill running.  HATE IT.  Not to mention the asshole who works the snack shed who conveniently was making cookies as I was running, AGAIN.  Really pal? Not to mention the people who have cinder blocks for feet and despite me having my music turned ALL the way up, I can still here them.  Then there’s the occasional treadmill swayer.  You know, the one who can’t run straight and you feel them inching closer to you every 2.5 minutes. For the love of Pete, STOP RAINING so I can run outside! Who is Pete anyway?

Wednesday. 5 miles. Treadmill pace 9:07. Actual pace 9:24. 

I intentionally went a smidge slower on this run because I knew that I was jumping up to five miles. I had wicked music adhd and lost my mojo during the last mile. Oh well did it anyway.   

Thursday. 3 miles. Treadmill pace 8:51. Actual pace 9:15.

This run was painful. Not for my legs but for my nose! The woman on the next machine smelt like cigarettes and a hole lot of perfume! I give you a for effort for being there. But don’t come to the gym smelling like that! Goodness!   

Sunday. 7 miles. Outside! Yahoo! Average pace 9:34. 

Holy cow was it cold this am! I’m not complaining because I hate running outside when it’s hot. I’d rather die. I really focused on my posture. I have a habit of looking down at my feet or the ground in front of me. I get distracted very easily so that’s my default move but hey, it keeps me going!   

All and all it was a successful week! Onto the next! 


Week One … Done … Sorta …

Well, I was all set to start my first week off with a bang. I have been eating super healthy, drinking lots of water, stretching to get ready, and then? I’m like 99.9% sure I broke my pinky toe. My freakin pinky toe. I would have rather smushed the three middle ones. I couldn’t put on sneakers or even look at them. I died. How stupid can you be! Your pinky toe. Week 1 of marathon training. Pfffft. Moron.

So I iced and rested and iced and rested and iced and rested and then my patience wore off.  I decided to go for the 6 mile run that was originally scheduled for Sunday.  I should have done half that, but I decided I needed to keep on track with the schedule. I already missed a week and don’t want to get too far behind. I forced myself to go slower then usual and had to stop a few times. Buuuuut I stuck to it and finished 5.85 miles in 59m 16s.  Not great but not terrible.  It’s now Tuesday and I feel pretty good!  My toe still hurts, but feels better in my shoe.

Off we go to week 2!   And day one starts with treadmill running…. shoot me….

Week 1 -- Sunday

The beginning…

Two years ago, I set a goal to run a half marathon after my chiropractor told me I couldn’t.  You can’t tell me I can’t do something, why? It lights a fire inside of me, I have to do it.  Saying “No” to me makes me feel challenged. I had gone to see the “neighborhood” chiropractor due to some reoccurring neck pain from a car accident years ago.  He told me I had a reverse curve in my neck that would stop me from running ever again. It was something serious enough that would cause me to get a second opinion, only to find out that this was in fact not true, my neck was fine.  I did however need to stretch and loosen up the joints in my body to prevent future injury. With the appropriate stretches, some routine adjustments, and patience, I was feeling pretty good and I began to train.  Miles started adding up and I began to reach my goal. On September 21, 2013, I did it.  Two hours, twenty-eight minutes later, and eighteen seconds later, I crossed the finish line.  I completed my first half-marathon with an 11:19 pace.  Pretty good for your first half marathon and for never really being a runner before. Needless to say, I was pretty impressed with myself.  A few days later, I took my medal and marched into the chiropractors office and said, verbatim, “screw you.”

The next day was painful.  I had pushed beyond the limits of my body, beyond what felt right.  I couldn’t sit to pee. I couldn’t walk up the stairs.  I couldn’t lay in my bed to sleep.  I couldn’t put pants on. Everything hurt. The thought of bending over to tie my shoes made me cry.  Is this what marathoners go through?  I want to do one. I need to do one.  In my delirious, sick, twisted, physically injured, state, this is when I decided that I was going to run a marathon, and it was going to be a Boston qualifier.  This was going to be my goal before I turn 30, to run a marathon and some day to run Boston. From then on, I kept running.  Faster, harder, and stronger.

And then?  Life got in the way.  The last year of my life was spent at rock bottom.  I got divorced.  I lost my sanity. I lost sight of my goals. I lost me.  My son was the only thing keeping me going and for that I thank him with every ounce of my being. Soon, my pulse started coming back.  I moved into a wonderful house with the help of my parents.  I got back into sailing.  I made new friends.  I rekindled friendships I had lost.  I found me again. I began to run again. With the help of my friends and family, I began to feel again.

After revisiting the whole running a marathon thing, I decided to accept the challenge and run one. But which one?  There are so many! The Newport Marathon — this was it! I pulled it up on the computer. Researched the course. I filled out the form online and then decided not to do it. I thought this was too big of a challenge for me. I can’t do this.  I’m nuts.  I’ll just stick to halfs. This went on for a month or so. After seeing a few friends run Boston, I pulled up the form online again and filled it out on a whim.  Accept this time, I hit submit. I did it. I am an official participant in the 2015 Newport Marathon.

May 26th begins the 20 weeks of training. 20 weeks of pushing myself harder then I ever have before. 20 more weeks until I cross that finish line and complete the biggest goal I have ever set for myself. I couldn’t be more excited, nervous, or scared to do this. But as my Dad always says, you can do anything you put your mind to.

What does this mean for you? It means that I am formally apologizing for all of my running posts, complaints, and everything else that comes with training for a marathon. Hopefully you’ll stick around to leave me some encouraging notes along the way! I am sure going to need them to keep the momentum going and push to the end!