Wednesday, March 3, 2010
It's What's Inside Me
It's 6:30p.m. on Wednesday night; I’m already in my pink polka-dot jammies, drinking a protein shake, blogging. It’s fine moments like these when you think that maybe, just maybe, all can be okay. Just maybe I will run well again. Just maybe my life will be “normal” again. It feels good to believe!
I’m a very superstitious person when it comes to running. Well, when it comes to a lot of things, but when I invest a lot of time and energy to perform a race, I like to be in control of all things I can control to make sure things turn out well. I can control my running attire. I have a slew of running clothes I cannot wear to a major race again because they failed me in another race or key run. My orange shorts, for instance, had me stop half way during a timed mile last summer, unable to breathe. A Halloween 5K with my son in same failed mile orange shorts left me about a minute slower than a 5K earlier in the year. A minute’s a lot in a 5K. I could defend them and say that the timed mile was a few hours after I found out an article I wrote for a major magazine was not selected and therefore my head wasn’t into the run. And I could say that Halloween 5K was on a somewhat hillier course than the prior one and well, 5K’s just suck a lung out of me anyway and I can pretend I don’t really care about my time; I had a blast running that race with all the crazy costumes and the added bonus of having B run it with me. But I’ll still never wear them in a race again; they earned their “F”rating. I have a pair of socks, full of brightly colorful circles on them which I’ll also never wear in a race; I wore them on a tempo run once and started puking bad. I could defend them and say I ate too much before that hot, miserable day and I don’t perform tempo runs well, in general, and this wasn’t the first leaving-my-guts-on-the-trail spell. But whenever I go to grab a pair of socks for a race, I will not choose them. Both of these guys, amongst a few others, have lowered their status level to “training attire.”
It’s not just wearable items, either. I’ll probably never run the St. George Marathon again; I ran that race perfectly in 2008 and qualified for my very first Boston Marathon with 14 minutes to spare; it holds a very special place in my heart. If I ran that marathon again and it was a disaster, I’d never clench it with the same high affection. Last year at Boston when we were checking in the uber-expensive-because-it’s-the-Boston-Marathon hotel and the dear, sweet check-in girl gave me a room on the 13th floor, I freaked. Um, no. Not even no, but absolutely NO WAY! I had to wait for an hour before a room on the 10th floor, with a “less than stellar” view became available. I didn’t care, I wasn’t there for the view (in retrospect, I got a room with a great view of the marathon finish line chute. What was she talking about less-than-stellar? This was a marathoner’s dream view! Meg, NOO getting a room on the 13th floor or I'll have to sleep in the lobby!). I still have my first BQ marathon shoes hanging in my garage. I still have my first ever marathon shoes (Dallas White Rock, 1997) hanging in my garage. Can you tell which pair matches which race?
I’m not ridiculous about everything (shhhh, quiet with the laughter!), I just don’t want to cross the finish line one day realizing, “Damn, I wore the orange shorts!”
I can’t be the only one out there, can I? Share with me some of your obsessive, compulsive race rituals or irrationalities so I’m not the only freak out there!!! Please!!??!!
The reason why I’m in my jammies already and ready to crawl into bed at the first possible second is because I just got home from the gym where …..ta da….I had a GREAT workout. Running, included. I have to admit that I’d done all my weight training since I started my Boston mission half-assed. I know what to do, it just wasn’t inside me yet. Having given up the trainerman and doing this solo for the first time in a very long time, I was simply afraid. And overwhelmed. No direction, no focus, just aimlessly doing whatever came to mind. I had some great weight workouts but I never pieced together what was needed where in corelation to my running. When I was sick for 3+ weeks, I took the time to finally sift through countless logs with past weight/running training and think I’m finally on the right track now. A friend told me the other day, “Look inside you, Jill, it’s in there. You know what to do!” The emotionally-needy person my daughter correctly identified me as needed to hear that. I went to gym tonight and did a great circuit core strength training followed by a vicious mile. Repeat times 3. Why the BA mile after a rigorous core circuit? To train ya to run though the fatigue of the marathon, to keep running hard when you want to slow down. The treadmill won’t let you, it’s setting the pace and you just run your mile and never give up. I love it!! Here was my workout:
15 leg press @170 lbs
15 each arm press out fly @ 40 lbs
15 each arm arm hammers @ 20 lb dumbbells
15 t-pushups with 8 lb dumbbell
25 reverse ab curls on a weight bench
1 mile @ 7:13
I ran and my chest didn’t feel like it was going to explode, like it has the past 3+ weeks when I ran. I can’t say I’m 100% as I’m still really congested and a little chest tightness but I couldn't do this workout today last week. I definitely feel the consequences of losing a vital part of my Boston training but I’m starting to feel at least although I may not PR in Boston, I think I can at least run it. Well, some of it anyway. A huge sigh of relief. I’m going to work hard to get to marathon training weight, I’m going to run the Atlanta ING even though I know it will fail in comparison to the 1:44 I ran last year, and then I think I’ll get to Boston with my head on straight and feeling good - no matter how I perform.
But one thing is certain, I won’t be wearing the orange shorts and colorful circle socks! It's finally inside me!