Leadville SR50 Week 9: What Happened to Spring, And My Motivation?

"The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life.  Attitude, to me, is more important than facts.  It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think, say or do.  It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill.  It will make or break a company... a church... a home.  The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we embrace for that day.  We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way.  We cannot change the inevitable.  The only thing we can do is play the one string we have, and that is our attitude... I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it.

And so it is with you... we are in charge of our Attitudes” - Charles Swindle

I found this poem/quote in the back of a drawer the other day, something given to me by a coach of mine a very, very long time ago.  I didn't know back then how much it'd mean to me when I revisited it throughout the years later.

Yesterday's temps hit a howling 87 degrees (and I have a killer sunburn on my back to show for it) as I wrapped up my 10th week to the Leadville Silver Rush 50 with a nice little 35 mile jaunt on the bike with Kathleen.  Last week we had snow in the Denver area, today I'm being roasted to dissolution.  Somewhere, Spring got lost on it's way to Colorado and Summer's arrived at maximum speed.  I guess if there's one saving Grace to Spring's absence, my allergies are only at a code level orange instead of the normal red this time of the year.

I also just happened to hit my lowest running mileage during this training cycle, with a somber disposition to follow suit.

I guess it was bound to happen I'd eventually hit a major motivational slump, but I was utterly unprepared when it slammed me last week, and felt like a complete failure every day when I pulled up my killer training plan and couldn't muster up the strength or energy to run.  I logged a whopping 16 miles last week and about 900' vertical.  Go me.

I'm certain my bleak mood of having to lower my runner's flag to half mast was partly due to residual soreness from the 50k the week before (my calves were on fire all week, ouch), but I also think some of my doom was due to a plate that is just not merely full, but more so over-flowing with end-of-the-school-year activities.  When you're a working athlete-mom living the working athlete-mom life, these things happen, I guess.  But ugh, it hit me hard.  I'm sure in 2 weeks I'll be picking my nose out of sheer boredom....but right, I can't see one speck of that plate.

I tried to run last week, I did, but either my screaming calves or Mother Nature told me No.  Mid-week, when I found a window between Ryan's regional track meet events (he ran a new PR 1:56 anchor for the 4x800 :)), I scurried to the foothills to get in at least a few miles of vertical run in.  Got there, and it instantly started thundering.  I don't mind a little mind-cleansing rainy run to sooth the soul, but lightening's a different ballgame; I don't exactly relish the thought of being being burnt to a crisp on the side of a mountain.  I had a little meltdown, screamed to the skies above to just give me a stupid break, and soon landed back at the track meet.... missing Ryan's 2nd event.  I could have gotten on my treadmill later that night, but I didn't.  After the vertical fiasco run, I wanted stillness; I didn't even want a breeze to move my flag.

My attitude started to pick up a tad towards the end of the week when a group of women I work with threw me a 29th 50th birthday party.  I hate being in large groups ("hate" being the emphasis here), especially with a focus on me turning old, but the gesture was touching and I was deeply moved by their kindness.  I don't think I've laughed that much in a really, really long time.  I'm not sure why, but I even did a shot of tequila, and I rarely drink anything other than an occasional beer.  For some reason, I thought it was stupidly funny and doing it made me laugh....there is always a pocket of comfort in discomfort (a large group of people, for example) - I just had to be willing to find it.  My runner's mast was lifted, ever so slightly.

50-year-olds shouldn't be up so late, nor drinking margaritas and a shot of tequila; they may fall asleep on the table 

Saturday, I ended my coaching gig for Girls on the Run with our 5k "run".  The girls had an amazing season and progressed so much over the course of the past 12 weeks, I couldn't help but get choked up on race day, especially since I'm almost certain I will not return next year (I said that last year, too).  I've coached at the same school for the past few years; it's a low-income school where every girl is on a scholarship to participate.  Some of their stories of harrowing survival are heart-wrenching, I can't help but be reminded that, even when I have some pretty horribly down days, I could have it so much worse.  Flag rose again - how could it not!

My two run buddies.  We crossed just at exactly 40 minutes and the girls and I were super proud.  

Sunday marked an all chick's 5k race.  I talked my very dear friend, and old training partner, Tara, into running the race also.  Some long time readers (Maybe all one of you) may remember Tara's blog; she had a baby in the fall, and then fell off the blog planet, but she is a riot and makes me laugh - constantly.  Tara means the world to me and totally gets me and all my baggage; when she told me in the car on the way up there she was moving out of Colorado the weekend after we get back from Boise, I felt heaviness weighing like 5 million bricks in my heart.  I knew this day was coming, still....

Salty with tears and sweat.  I'm going to miss her like Whoooa bad 

The two of us twisted fellow Boise-bound friend, Katie, into running also (but we made her run the 10k, since running is her weakness.  Sort of like I should be on my bike 7 days a week since biking is my weakness.  Whatever, it's not always about me :)) and my Greenland crewing compadre, Julie, showed up as cheerleader.  Everyone needs a cheerleader, especially when my attitude towards running was still bouncing all over the map.  With my bleh disposition towards this race and Tara's horrendous stomachache, Julie got an ear-full of 4-letter words...but, as always, Julie just smiled and loved us anyway.

I'm not sure why I'm listing to the left, but I'm taking Tara with me

I couldn't decide how to really race this nor how much I really wanted it, which is never the best headspace place to be before a race. I decided last minute not to run by the watch and instead, turn it off and go by perceived effort.  But I had 'auto lap' on and the good ole watch beeped at mile 1: 7:04.

Crap.  Too fast?  I didn't really know.  I felt good but I had a sneaking suspicion my zippy pace wasn't going to hold for two more miles.  Right I was.  Mile 2: 7:18, mile 3: 7:40 (after slugging through some almost knee-deep waters where a creek over-flowed on the path, which left me spent and pretty much mentally giving up).  I finished with a fairly decent time, for me: 22:41, and a 5th place finish overall.

I swear, I only counted 3 women ahead of me, so not sure why I'm not 4th overall ...not that I'm being a
big baby about it or anything!

I raced it poorly, evident by my increased pace per mile, but my overall finish time was, I think, the 2nd best 5k time I've had in the past 5 years.  For a 'not a big deal' race, I didn't beat myself up over my lack of ill-paced stupidness, like I did a week ago at the Greenland 50k.  I had fun, I had a good overall finish time, and by the end of the race, I wanted that flag raised to full mast... the race, and time spent with people I care so deeply for during the past week, helped inch it closer.  I'm not really good around people most of the time, so this is pretty big stuff.

I finished the week with the leisurely sun-soaked bike ride with Kathleen, chatting about life's little hiccups, knowing that the things we're both dealing with won't always be as they are.  Suddenly, I looked at her, smiled, and knew I was ready to tackle Leadville again.  If anyone ever needs a lift in life, Kathleen can handle the job well!

My mindset may not be fully intact for the ambitious races I have in the upcoming weeks, but my training rut is officially over, just like Spring.  It's time to pursue my goals with the optimistic abandon of a child.  I feel the flag almost at full mast; I'm going for it.

Leadville, my game's back on - Maaahhhahahahahah!

P.S.  Brendan leaves Saturday (as in THIS Saturday) for 3.5 months with the Blue Knights.  So proud of that kid, he worked so hard for this...but damn, my heart's hurting, despite BK prep crap scattered from one of my house to the other.  He's going to have an incredible summer filled with some amazing experiences.  I hope he embraces the opportunity he's been given and never gets down on those days that are going to be super tough, just as Charles Swindle says (I'm going to copy the poem and put it in his backpack.  I'm sure he'll roll his eyes when he notices, but I know this kid well...and I know he'll cherish my sentiment).  Ah, the parallels between his Blue Knights and my Leadville journey ....