Training For Joy

My new miracle shoes

It’s funny when you’re out on your long run and a million different things pop into your head about what you’re going to say on your blog that night about your run; fun, witty and full of expression words….then when you sit down to write, none of those thoughts out there come to mind and you're left staring at a blank screen for an hour.

Sooooo, today: Matt, from running group I occasionally run with, told me the other day he’d run my 17 miler today. Well, originally it was 16 but with a mileage week going further and further in the red, I upped the run another mile. He was game. I was afraid. Matt runs a sub 7 min/mile. I do not. I think I can run one mile at 7 minutes, possibly 2. Proved in October I cannot run a 5K at that pace so 3 miles at 7 is out!

I emailed Megsie the other night and expressed my anxiety and prayed for my survival. Matt’s a sweetie, though, and said he’d run my pace; he just wants to get in the miles since his brother’s generous birthday gift to him was the registration for an upcoming 50K next month in Alabama. Matt found out by an email confirming his registration. Gotta love siblings!

So I’m game. What the heck. It’s only my legs. My sanity. My annoying glute. My “mystery” ailment behind my knee. My slower than molasses long run last weekend.

Matt said he had the perfect “fun” course for us to run: a 17-miler from his house near City Park to Sloan’s Lake, a lap around the lake, then back to his house. Oh, and btw, “the last 5-6 mile are uphill.” Um, did I ever mention me and up hills are not bff’s? It is hard for me to find peace with my body - I struggle with air (aka, need mask and oxygen tank on wheels with a pole, beside me). He said the long, arduous hill at the end is good Boston training for me since um, yeah, that lovely set of hills at mile 17 in Boston kicked my butt last year (welcome 3-way lunges, in case you were wondering why I’m obsessing over getting these puppies in each week!).

I was nervous about the hills. The pace. The fact I don’t normally run that far with anyone and I’m not a big chatterbox when running. Give me a Michelob Light with Cactus Lime beer and some great Mexican food and I’ll talk your ear off; but I’ve always been a lone long run runner- I’m usually gasping for oxygen, the more the better, so how do I mutter a complete sentence for 17 miles? The thought had my head spinning. Sometimes the anticipation and fear alone will inhibit my breathing and jack up my heart rate long before I even set out for a run.
But I was also ready to stop being afraid and give it a shot. I knew Matt would wait, if I had to slow, but I was ready to see what the legs, and the head, had in me.

We took off after lunch; which also had me worried since I’m an early morning long run runner and thus wasn’t sure what to eat. Sensitive stomach girl here didn’t want poor Matt waiting for me in the bathroom for countless hours. Been there done that with my friend, Dennis, one time (actually, the very first time I ran with him. Can’t believe he ever ran with me again after that fiasco). So I made sure not to eat any form of any sugar, since I’m convinced this is the culprit for my bad stomach issues. From his house, up a slight hill, downhill through the historic preststigious mansions surrounding the Denver Country Club and onto the gradual downhill Cherry Creek Path (which happens to be along Cherry Creek). A little concerned about my pace being a bit faster than the normal snail’s pace but figured we were on a gradual down so just maybe I could hold on with Matt’s help. Cross the creek at the fabulous flagship 4-story REI store, potty break and over the highway onto 23rd street and into a part of the city I have never run before. Not overly scenic but new is new and it was so nice to look at something “different” for a change. Turn on a side street and we’re suddenly at Sloan’s Lake. Wow, like wow! We were half done and I couldn’t believe it! The time went quickly. Amazing how fast time goes when in the company of sounds other than my own wheeze!
Matt did most of the talking - things like the 23-hour relay we were on this past summer; the paces and mileage of elite marathon runners (and how we’ll never be. Ha); crazy, stupid things we did as kids and how we never managed to break our necks doing them; his upcoming 50K; things that make our stomach cramp during a race. You know, just “stuff.” I muttered a few single syllable words like: uh-hu, right, ok, sure, I know, wow, really?....with an occasionally 3 to 4-word sentence. I loved listening, just can’t speak and run well – despite the multi-tasker I am!

Mile 12 brought us back to the REI with a potty and gel break and then back on the CC path – which is now uphill. And thus the mind begins to cramp. I put my headphones on and told Matt I’d just follow in behind him, he’d set the pace and I’ll see what I can do. Usually, when I’m alone, I just slow down here. But I was feeling surprisingly good and wanted to see what I had left. Parts of this section are rough. Not steep, by any means, but just loooonggg and gradual. I kept looking at my watch and it was fluctuating between 8:30 and 9:30. Matt said, “You’re only a few seconds off your marathon pace.” I know. WOW! A few times it jumped to the higher 9’s as the steepness increased but I was in awe that I was holding strong. And no aches and pains. No screaming glute. No mystery ouchie behind the knee. No stomach problems. Only a minor hot spot on the left foot as I was wearing new shoes and I always need a couple weeks of miles before they feel good. Matt said, “Let’s take it strong here for a couple miles, give us a small break then charge it the last mile.” Um, okay.

With two miles to go, I dropped my water bottle and stopped for a brief couple seconds to get it. I let Matt go on ahead and I caught up with him at the Country club. Crossing the road, we now were back at the gorgeous old mansions and a very difficult hill. I slowed but remained under 10’s here and just felt so incredibly strong. We turned and were on a gradual uphill on 7th Ave with gorgeous big, old trees lining the road. Living in suburbia U.S.A. where trees are scarce, I love this street - it reminds me of the large Oak trees from my childhood in Iowa. I decide it’s time to push the pace, with a mile to go, and was really happy my legs decided to agree. I looked at my watch a few times and was ever so pleased to see the pace in the low 8’s with a couple high 7’s. THIS, kids, is not typical Jill.

We finished the 17 miles with an avg pace of 9:00 on the dot. Wow, WOW! Last week I ran 15 at a 9:20 pace and felt like crap…today, I ran 17 with an awesome friend 20 seconds faster and felt great!

It was 60 degrees and sunny – such a gorgeous day in Denver and in my head. An exclamation point of a beautifully written run! I won’t always write solely about one run but I had to share today with ya. Maybe it was my new shoes that left my legs feeling great for once, or that my dear friend, Matt, was a wonderful diversion to my own negative thoughts (I'm trying to talk him into being my coach - ha).... but I’m grateful that running empowers me, and grateful that I am part of this running legacy. Now if I can just hold this feeling, cup it carefully in my hand the way I used to catch fireflies as a child, Boston is going to go well. It's funny how you can train for other aspects of running, but you can't train joy. It blinks and disappears; elusive as that firefly, but when you have it ...ah, you are a different runner, even if it's just for that one run.

Whew...I think that beer from above is calling my name....

I hope everyone had great runs today and tomorrow. And to those running marathons and others, run strong!