Boston Marathon

This blog has pretty much hit the grave, but I feel I owe myself at least a couple more posts (I'd love to fire it back up again, I miss it, but then again.....)

And, because BOSTON!  (yes, I am well aware the race was almost 3 months ago...shhhhhh). 

And, because I hate viewing that last pathetic post I wrote every time I pull up my blog.

So, let's start where I last left this thing.  That'd be January....

When the calendar flipped to 2015, Boston became my A-race, yet through all those winter and spring months, training for Boston didn't go exactly as I had hoped. Sometimes I feel as though we are all mice in a giant experimental maze, scurrying around frantically, trying to find our way through. I felt like that training for Boston.  Low energy; training paces that resembled something my grandmothers could run (and neither are alive); race results that left me frustrated, and at times, feeling pretty damn low.  Maybe I had came down with some newly discovered cancer. That'd be really cool, in a not-so-cool way. Maybe it was that I officially turned OLD this training cycle (that'd be 52 in case anyone wants to know where that magical line lies) and everything from here on out will be a giant spiral downward. Or, I've been having some extra stresses this year, so it could have been that.

All-in-all, I think I just felt overwhelmed.  Overwhelmed by the thought of an unsure future and a confusing present where I didn't really know what it is I'm supposed to be doing or where I belonged. You know that feeling when you walk into an incredibly messy room to clean it and you don't even know where to start?  So you end up staring at it for 20 minutes before going to make yourself a sandwich?  That's exactly how I felt (feel) about my life. Which bled into my training.
  
I allowed life to affect my training much more than it should have.  Because the thing is, I know things need to be done.  I know that plans must be made.  And in many cases, I know what those things and plans are.  But I don't always have the faith they're going to get me where I want to go.  So instead, I go and make that proverbial sandwich and thus life stood still and I ate a lot of sandwiches.  And bleh I couldn't run "well"; too many sandwiches will do that.

I chose to take my feet back to the road marathon for a while because I could not think of another race distance that truly humbles me from the inside out. The road marathon is that challenge I just never felt at peace with. Pounding out that many miles at a constant steady-state, I have almost always lost my mental grit during those last few miles. The road marathon is a dig-deep 10k with an aggressive 20-mile warm-up that demands an ability to run relentlessly at a pace that is right on the edge of unsustainable - a feeling I like to think of as "the wheels are ABOUT to come off."  Is this pace too fast?  Will I crash and burn and if so when?  Do I have more in me?  Where is that uncomfortable comfort zone I can sustain for 26.2 miles? By contrast, the varied terrain of a mountainy trail run means the pace fluctuates dramatically; constantly shifting gears to accommodate the always-changing terrain gives the mind and body a break.  I felt I got lazy running trails.  Trail running turned me in some of the best physical fitness of my entire life two years ago, but the head got careless.  I'd come to a hill and walk because it's perfectly acceptable to walk in steep traily races. I stopped at aid stations and feasted for 15 minutes until I felt "better" before I would take off.  I stopped to smell the flowers, view the scenery, take a gajillion pictures, reflect on ... anything.  Don't get me wrong, running 7900' of vertical at altitudes 10,000' and higher (Silver Rush) definitely poses some challenges - like pleading with your lungs not to explode right then and there, and least we forget how many banged up bloody knees and that infamous busted rib muscle I had.  But I missed that sensation and challenge I feel running faster and steadier in the marathon, and I wanted it back. So my focus for the year came back to the road (at least until trail running season :))

And since I somehow miraculously qualified for Boston at CIM in December of 2013, Boston it was.  

I am a habitual worrier, and to compensate for the undue stress I put upon myself, I plan.  And I plan well in advance so I can visualize that race in my head over and over.  And over.  AND OVER! I had already researched the Interwebs to death, reading and re-reading countless articles on how to run this race well (you know, because the other two times I've run it weren't so stellar) and I came up with my own game plan for race day in hopes of squeaking out another BQ there.  I compared my way-too-many detailed notes and came up with a master plan (note: Marathon Pace (MP) = 9:02):

Miles 1-4: MP -10 seconds 
Miles 5-11: MP 
Miles 11-16: MP -10 seconds
Miles 17-21: MP +15 (brutal hills)
Miles 21-24: MP (though truthfully, I just hoped not to be walking here!)
Miles 25-26.2: Hang on for dear life.... and to think of all the times I had some decent runs up a certain really tough local hill.

The weather wasn't particularly spectacular: drizzling rain and strong bouts of fierce headwinds.  The temperature wasn't exactly perfect either: about 40 degrees (which was cooler when the cold rain and winds were factored in).  I didn't really have adequate attire, but I'm not sure anyone had anything that was ideal for hours of running in these conditions. I stressed what to wear the entire day before and all the way until a few moments before the gun went off. In the end, I ended up wearing basically all I had: shorts, two long-sleeved shirts, arm warmers and two pairs of gloves.  For most of the race I felt chilled, and by the end of the race, I was soaked to the core. It wasn't ideal by any means, but in all honestly, I'd take this over anything above 70 degrees.

My daughter, Abbey, cheering and tracking me from the confines of a dry and warm hotel lobby

I wish I could write all the thoughts I had during the race...not only to share, but so I could also visit them later when time steals these precious memories and the details become hazy. I can close my eyes and recall many moments that stood out, but my thoughts during the race were fleeting and I couldn't concentrate on anything more than a few seconds. I was cold, for the most part. I had to pee for what felt like an eternity. I was well ahead of my proposed plan. My quads were trashed by mile 2, and that pain never ceased. I high-fived kids whenever I remembered to look up and 'take it all in'. This race definitely became internal where I continuously was aware of my time; my effort; my pace; how I felt; when to fuel; how much further I had left; am I pushing it too hard, or not quite enough. To me, these are the precise things you NEED to internalize when you put your heart and soul into a marathon, and I wanted to race this thing!

I was ahead of my plan by a couple minutes coming into the half.  Yes, the wheels had a high chance of coming off, but the Newton hills were soon approaching and I am not a strong climber (if you think living in Colorado where there are mountains aplenty to make me climb well, you'd be wrong).  I felt I needed these additional minutes at the halfway point if I had any remote chance of making it out alive past the upcoming hills, so I told John in my inner voice, don't panic quite yet.

Surprisingly, the miles were clicking by quickly for me the entire race and despite my screaming quads, I was enjoying every morsel of this race. When I remembered to look up, I'd recognized certain landmarks or places and smile at the memories from years ago. But then I saw it - the sharp 90-degree turn where the Newton Hills begin around mile 17. Anxiety started to brew. My pace had been riding consistently up to this point, and for that fact alone, my head was holding up remarkably well. But those hills! Those four ghastly hills. Knowing they were my nemesis and worrying about them for like weeks, if not months, played a significant role in my mental collapse; by the last hill, my quads were trashed; I had stomach issues, and my hamstrings were seizing up. My pace fell drastically to 10:12 when I reached the top of that last hill. That's a HELL OF A LOT more than pace +15, Jill. You're screwed!  In 4 long, agonizing miles, my mental state became a pile of dog food and I felt I had nothing left in me anymore - my object to re-qualify for Boston next year was pretty much out the window. It seemed pointless to try.  If I can't BQ again, then why even bother? I came up with a hundred excuses why I was content with failure. 

The scene became a familiar one I've encountered in countless marathons past at mile 22. It hurts too much. It doesn't matter. You aren't going to reach your goals. Goals are stupid. Why do you put so much pressure on yourself? No one cares but you and you'll eventually get over it. It will feel so much better to walk. Your quads are killing you. Just walk. You'll still finish. That's a pretty big accomplishment in of itself. 4:02 is a good finish. Why did you think you could run 3:57? You can't. It doesnnnnnn't matttterrrrr. Just finish, shed a few tears of disappointment, and it'll all be okay.....in about 15 months.

2 minutes later..... it WASN'T okay. And it DID matter.

I didn't know how I was going to come home and face the firing arms with my handful of lame defenses. I knew I'd lose. Not just to the people who were there by my side, but I was going to lose the battle I sought out within me: that fight to the end that I have longed for in the marathon. 

I mean, isn't this exactly what I said I wanted?  To push through these last 3 miles. To fight the pain and fatigue.  To prove to myself that I can be strong. To prove I am worthy of all those proverbial cliches that make me gag every time I see them on Facebook but secretly keep tucked inside and pull out when I need them. Some of the hardest challenges make you stronger......

But ugh, I was in so much pain. My quads, which had been screaming from mile 2, were in agony; every step was pouring more misery into every leg fiber I had. My hamstrings were as tight as cello strings and seizing up. I just had three more miles....three. 

No, not this time. I told myself to just shut up and RUN!  Run as hard as you possibly can!  

Mile 21: that crap 10:12. Mile 22: 9:34. Mile 23: 9:23. Mile 24: 9:14. Mile 25: 9:07. I welcomed that Citgo sign in the distance where in prior races it never seemed to move; it would hover out there, dreadfully never seeming to inch closer. This time, I could actually FEEL it moving towards me.

I was passing people like it was my job - it felt empowering. My quads were killing me, but I was running....and I was smiling....Right on Hereford, Left on Boylston and you're there. I said this repeatedly... until I turned Right. Then Left. And suddenly, there I was on the infamous Boylston Street with thousands swarming the street cheering.

Mile 26: 9:13  

Tears were welling up as I ran towards the finish line - I had to turn them off because it became problematic to cry, breathe, AND run. I thought about how far I had come to get here; all the obstacles I faced training for this thing; all those sandwiches I ate. This is a stretch of the race I will treasure for the rest of my life - and I will forever remember every single second of how I felt. I was home  My secret goal was 3:57:something - which only my dearest friend Jen knew (who was the most supportive human being on the planet earth - emailing me and texting me daily that she believed in me, which meant the world). I crossed:  

3:57:02

Gun time....ignore that clock

People always say running is about the journey.  Embrace the journey. That's all fine and dandy for them.... but for me, in the end, it's about crossing that finish line! There is no greater high I have EVER felt than a well-run race. Right now I want to race until I feel satisfied I have completed all I can do. Satisfaction isn't necessarily PRs (though that would be really cool), but rather to continue to grow, to learn, and race with everything I have in me until I can't. I want to race with endurance that is strong and passionate, yet patient and wise. I want to chip away at that 3:57:02 because I know I have more in me.  I don't know when this desire will cease or when I won't feel the need to get out there and beat the crap out of myself anymore; I'm sure it's in my not-so-distant future. But right now I'm thankful for the fire within. And at age 52, that is a true gift, and I cannot put it away quite yet.

My life right now isn't particularly 'good' as I try to inspect where I need to go, what I need to do, struggles with this and that, and where I fit in this great big world. But it is getting a little better. Boston showed me that no matter how painful things are in my life, nor how particularly low things can get, and how lonely I can feel for much of it, if I can run faster than I ever have in the last 4 miles of a marathon on completely fried legs, surely I can persevere in this thing that is called life.

It may take longer than I wish and I may eat a few more sandwiches before I find that happy place I'm meant to be, but there is strength in pain....

I know I can do this.

Thank you, Boston!

Words can't begin to describe the emotions I felt when I saw these two at the end.
My unimpressed-with-running daughter said, "Why are you crying?"  One day she'll understand!

A friend from home, Othman, whom I literally bumped into outside the expo

This one flies with her own wings....

.....and isn't afraid to express how she feels about running expos :)  

But she makes awesome signs

And I love her to death....and in the end, she was very proud of me (along with her little brother, who saved my life with his coat post-race)

"A runner must run with dreams in his heart."
                                                   - Emil Zatopek

Run strong, my friends!

Jill

Boston Speed Limits

There's been a lot of buzz going around about the fact Boston sold out faster than Ryan Hall could run it.  Well, not quite... but almost. 

Many believe the rapid sell-out was because the standards for woman's times are "too easy" comparatively to the male counterpart, and the below chart (thanks, Beth!) shows that indeed, females have steadily increased the percentage ratio of those running to practically a dead heat of 50/50.  Whooa, that's pretty impressive. 

Personally, I don't know if females times are a little more comfy than the men and honestly, I don't really care.  The BAA has researched in great depth using muscle mass ratios between men and women and changes in body composition as each of us age, and these are the standard times they came up with.

Their race, their rules. 

We don't have to like it, but it is what it is (didn't you just hate that when you were a kid and your parents said that after you screamed, "that's not fair" when your brother got to stay out later than you did?).  If we want to play the game, we have to abide by the rules.  Would I like to see time changes made?  If, and ONLY if, there is a legitimate reason to other than "it sold out too early last year."

This is my personal take on a few Boston thingies:

1) I think there's a bajillion more marathons now in 2010 than there were when I started marathoning in 1997.  And specifically, more certified BQ races.  People are racing more marathons because, well, there's just a lot more out there to choose from and we don't have to drive all over the U.S. to get to them.

2) I think more women are running marathons in 2010 than when I started running them.  And definitely from when Kathrine Switzer tried to somewhat disguised herself as a man in 1967 to run in Boston.  More women running marathons = more women qualifying.

3) I think both men and women equally set certain benchmarks to reach their goals and if that benchmark is to BQ, I feel women are much more emotionally attached to actually RUN Boston.  This is just my hypothesis - I know so many guys who have qualified and have no desire to actually take out a 4th mortgage to fund their way to Boston, they just want the check mark checked.  Women - no way, we want the proof, we want that damn jacket!  Men may want that jacket, but us chicks are willing to eat Ramen noodles to wear it. 

4) And as for the 8hr 3 min PR registration, I think that people freaked out with it closing earlier and earlier each year so they bombarded cyberspace at the microsecond they could, to avoid being shut out. Actually from a scientific point of view it's fascinating. It's as though a certain type of social threshold was reached and type of "mass hysteria" set in. There could be useful ...social research in this phenomenon, I bet.

5) The problem is that Boston is just too unique, which is great for Boston. What is maybe needed are more races that have these types of qualifying times. New York does, and they're even a little stiffer than Boston's, but no one seems to notice because they also have a lottery - I can't even tell you how many people I've spoken to who did not know NYC had qualifications.  If you want a tougher challenge than Boston, try for New York!  But there could be, maybe should be, more races throughout the country with these kinds of qualifying times. To get people excited about other goals, than perhaps Boston.

My thoughts are just mine, I'm sure you all have your own and yours are wrong that's great.  But it got me thinking, after reading several comments on someones blog recently, about our training .....

Can EVERYONE get to Boston, if they work their ass off and train hard enough???

My answer to this is, from what I've learned as a coach, and as a 14-year marathoner, is probably not.  Contrary to what one may think that all it takes is a lot of sacrifice and more blood, sweat and tears than you've ever done before (and yes, it DOES take that), I hate to say it but that may just not be enough.  There's that little thing called genetics that can sometimes make us reach certain speeds and that's it - go ahead, curse your parents.

I'm not saying everyone can't get faster.  You absolutely can.  I am proof of that - for eternity I couldn't get my marathon time to stop hovering a few minutes, give or take, around that 4-hour mark.  And it wasn't until I started doing things differently in my training that I was able to get to that 3:45 time - but approximately 30-40% of our speediness is hereditary and we can only do 60-70% work to get faster.

And this tidbit of info got me to thinking, after a little shove from a certain fellow blogger when I was whining about trying to think about my own little blog and what to do with it now that I wasn't actually training for anything until this sucky heel starts to behave - maybe I should write a little now and then about some coaching stuff. 

Hum.  Maybe!?! 

I've never wanted to come across as a know-it-all - because I don't, I never will, and I'll never pretend I do.  But maybe, I could sometimes use my blog not only as a place to carry fellow manic runners along with me in my running journey but maybe to also discuss a few things I've learned along the way - as a running coach, personal trainer and from my own personal experiences.

I could write more about those darn genetics our parents gave us, what I did differently when I BQ'd, weight training, supplements, recovery, diet, my beloved protein spinach smoothie ...   Not every post, but maybe once a week...or month.

Thoughts??  Interests?

The mailbag's open for suggestions.

Until then....I'll be hanging around the Air Force Academy this weekend as Brendan goes to state marching band finals (someone came by while I was at the grocery store tonight and chalked up our driveway big time :) ) and then I'm off to New Mexico for a few days next week where I'll be sure to do a lot of running, much exploring, eating tons of muy bueno Mexican food and gathering thoughts to share.  Huge shout-out to KC (http://my140point6milejourney.blogspot.com/) who is doing her very first Ironman in steamy Florida this weekend and Jamie (http://atouchofjaime.blogspot.com/) who's trying to get to Boston; Anne doing Niagara Falls (http://asthmaandthegiftofrunning.blogspot.com/)....and to all others out there racing. 

Happy Running!

Jill

To Boston I Go...Or Not



My 2009 and 2010 Boston Medals, each one loaded with different, yet equally fond memories.  I proudly display them on my dresser mirror, where I can see them daily and am reminded of those very special days.

As I sit and gaze at my October calendar, my eyes constantly drift to the 18th. 

Many of you know what this date signifies, but for those who don't: it's Boston 2011 registration day.  I am torn on what to do.  Do I register and run it again and get that miserable 2010 finish line 4:30 monkey off my back?  Or do I let Boston go, grateful for the 2 experiences I had there - afterall, 2009 was a supurb race (3:51) and I ran my heart out and left nothing on that course (even part of my stomach at mile 22 with the most severe stomach cramps I've ever endured). 

I AM grateful for both my runs there; Boston shouldn't really be about a time or a pace - it should be about the experience, and I certainly experienced both ends of the spectrum.  2009 was all about fitness and racing and seeing what I was made of.  2010 was about my birthday and celebrations and forging real-life blog friendships.  Both races hold a very special place in my heart.  I'm filled with gratitude from head to toe to have been one of the fortunate enough to have run there.  Twice.

It should be enough.  I should gladly close the door on Boston and seek out my next grand adventure - my 50-miler.

I should.  But I can't help but look at that October 18th day and NOT want to hit the registration button.  Something is drawing me in, and I can't even tell you exactly why.  I have nothing to prove there or to earn. It's not a course I even like. It's expensive as hell.  I have anxiety getting around in that city (I'm sure poor Katie A.'s husband was read to strangle me!).  I didn't stand at the start line of Boston this year with the butterflies and thoughts of how special it was to be standing there, unlike the previous year, so I'm certain I wouldn't feel that again next year.

So why would I even think about going back? 

I guess it's a series of many thing, all totally ridiculous when you peel them apart and examine them individually.
- I guess that 4:30 time isn't sitting too well and I'd love to get back into prime marathon racing shape and run it hard one more time.  Just to see if I can.
- The fact that I'm probably in the worst marathon racing shape ever - having Boston as a focus would make me have no excuses to train at that level again.
- A ton of friends are going this year - I'd love to meet up with them.  I love friends.  Some blog friends I've never met, whom I'd love to, especially Petra, who lives across the big blue pond in England.  I may never have the opportunity to meet her again.  She is a great friend and we email frequently about our training woes; I feel a very special connection with her.
- And well, hell, it's Boston.  I earned a spot to be there, I feel I should take advantage.
- I've had two amazing experiences there and Boston is never to disappoint as far as building happy memories.

Do you hear the BUT coming???

But, I'm kinda Boston burned-out.  To qualify for Boston was a dream of mine for many, many years.  I never worked as hard nor sacrificed as much to earn my BQ at St. George in 2008 and it meant the world to me.  It now no longer does and it's no longer a dream.  There's no magical spark and it's nothing I crave to earn my place there.  I've hit the "been there done that" phase with Boston.  I feel it's time to let it go and move on to other dreams, ya know....like my 50.

Why not do both, you ask?

Ah, good question.  Really, I could do both.  And I haven't ruled that out as an option.  But I don't think I want to.

I'm not like the rest of you young uns.  I'm 47 and training for these races to perform at the best of my ability takes a lot more recovery time.  There was a day when I could do a 50-miler and a marathon in the same month, that's no longer the case.  Well, it's no longer the case if I want to race them well....and let's face it, that's just how I tick. 

I'm done lolly-gagging through marathons half-trained.  I understand that there are no guarantees come race day.  Race day is always a mystery unfolding. That's what's so humbling and so beautiful about it; that's what keeps us all coming back - because you just never know.  But when I now race a marathon, I want to be in top shape so I stand on the start line having left no stone unturned.  Oh, I may use a marathon to train for the marathon, as I've done in the past, but I don't want to step on the start line of an end-picture marathon not having given it the respect it deserves by training to the best of my ability. At least not now. I think one day I will reach a point when the intense insanity of marathon training will leave my heart and I'll enter them just for fun, to enjoy with friends, or just to visit a new city.  But not right now.

Many of you asked in my last blog which 50-miler I was thinking about.  After emailing Kovas back and forth with many options I thought about doing the JKF50 or similar in the fall.  Which could leave me doing Boston in the spring - doing both next year.  And I'm not ruling that option out.

Here comes that damn BUT again....

1) I don't relish the thought of running back to back to back 30+ miles in the heat of the summer.  I have heat-related issues which I can quickly assassinate myself if I'm not careful.  That's why the treadmill and I are pretty well bonded.  2) I fear if I sit and think about this 50 for too toooo toooooo long, I'll chicken out.  I've been in this 50 mind-frame before and I have yet to do one.  Enough said.  3) I'm ready for a new challenge.  I want to continue on my marathon quest, but I want to check off this 50 soon, before I get cold feet, before I get older and it gets harder and then go back to marathon racing.  Who knows, maybe I'll actually enjoy the 50 and want to continue on?  Doubtful...but I'd never say never.

So the 50 is what's tugging at my spring-time race heart right now. 

So there's my delimma, my thoughts.  All races in the future, of course, stem on the heel and how it behaves and if I'll ever become a real person in society with insurance who can go have this thing looked at by a real podiatrist (latest word: all paperwork finally in to the insurance mediator, who is pondering over all the biopsy results.  Should know a decision "soon" (his words) and if accepted, it's about a 2-3 week process for the insurance coverage to start.  There's always a possibility the mediator may yet again deny me due to too much time lapsing between negative biopsy and now.  Cross you fingers that's not the case!!).

I had a solid 33 miles of running last week. That's 18.43 % increase over the following week, for all you statistician math freaks out there.  Extra 50 bonus points for the heel being about 88.9 % cooperative.  That's HUGE!  I take each day one day at a time, grateful for the every single mile logged; I can't help but get a little excited that maybe there actually IS hope for me to race this spring.

Is it Boston?

Or is it time for the 50?

Time, and my heel, will tell.  I'm not too worried about it, the answer will come.  But for now, my treadmill is calling....it's MP mile repeats day - I LOVE those puppies!

Week 38:Running: 33 miles
Total 2010 miles: 1279.21
Total 14er's climbed: 0
Elliptical Trainer: 5.5 miles
Wt Training: 1
HCC: 1
I am finding as I slowly crank up the miles, I'm cutting out my wt training - I must be more diligent about getting that back in!!

Time to jump back in...

Almost two weeks since Tucson - I can't believe it! It's like one of those events on the calendar of time where it feels like yesterday yet also, because of the whirlwind of the holidays, feels like months ago.

I finally got online and looked at my official race placement - I was surprised I placed so well:

Overall: 343 out of 1246
Women: 80 out of 519
F 45-49: 10 out of 87
Age/Grade: 67.29% Place: 113 (anyone know what this "place" is?)
Finish: 3:46:00 Pace: 8:38

Wow! Yes, pretty pleased :).

It's not that I don't want to get back out and start running again - I truly do. I'm just feeling a little lost and confused. It's been a couple years since I've done a schedule all on my own and I don't really enjoy this part of my training. For me! Now give me a thousand clients and I'll be thrilled to make up their schedules but I just question so many things for ME because I just like the support. But I'm working on my Boston plan and it's coming along pretty well. I think I'm using a combination of Jack Daniels coaching and using the book Brain Training for Runners. I have a few days to finalize the schedule as I intend to "officially" start on Jan 1 (okay, maybe Jan 2nd...Jan 1 may be a "recovery" run from the night before festivities. I just go over to a friends and we play cards on New Year's Eve...but he makes one wicked appletini. This followed by an earlier-in-the-day run with the group and we have a couple toasts-to-the-past-year drinks along with lunch [which makes an interesting run back]). In the mean time, I am back to running...and the legs are finally feeling well. Thursday, I ran a tempo run at the gym on the treadmill - not my first choice of terrains to run on but 8" of snow the night before left me with not a lot of choice. I'm all for running outdoors in cold temps but when there's a mound of fresh snow on the ground, running becomes a bit challenging. Too challenging. Dangerously challenging. The last thing I really need to do is slip on some ice as I rev up my training. I ran outdoors on Wednesday when we only had about 4" (see pic) and that was more than enough, so the gym had to suffice for Thursday. I was going to run 6 easy but pressed for time, I ended up with 4 but at a pretty quick clip (1WU, 1@8:00 , 1.5@ 7:35, 1/2 @ 8:00). I felt good. The ol' legs really had a pretty lengthy recovery time this round but I think they are in the clear now and given the ok to hit the road running. Snow on the ground for Christmas today, and a lot of it (though nothing like our dear friends in the Mid-west - sorry guys!), making it cheery and festive for this special day - but also making my run tomorrow of 10-12 a question mark on where to run it. I'll wake up and assess the outside situation and decide on which terrain, indoors or out, to run on.


Happy to report that my ebay blackberry has arrived and two runs later to the Sprint store, is working well!! Ah, isn't she a beauty? Now if I could just learn HOW to use it, all would be good! One thing I learned today is that one who tends to easily get a little motion sickness should never sit in the backseat on a 45 minute commute home after consuming 4000 Christmas dinner calories and start messaging and reading email. I thought all that food was going to come right back up. Probably better if it had...but yikes-o, I felt miserable for awhile. Nothing like rolling down the window in 18 degrees to get a little "fresh air." The kids are young, they'll live.

I started working on a little of my 2010 race calendar but the vast majority of the year is going to be a big question mark. I can't commit to too much right now other than Boston and a few local races, but I am at least putting down some possibilities in case I can work them out. One thing I DID learn today though, while combing through the billions of races out there: The CO Outward Bound Relay I LOVE to do has been moved up a few weeks to Aug 20-21. This poses a small problem with going back to school that week but it also pretty much solves the problem of Hood To Coast (HTC)- which is the following weekend. I can't believe it!!! I don't think my body can handle two major sleep-deprived relays two weekends in a row! BUMMER!!! I even got an Oregon map today in my stocking, Santa must have been telling me that I should do HTC - I really hate disappointing him. I'm still going to mull over this another day but I really think I have to bag the HTC relay...argh!! I really love the CO relay and that's probably the one I need to stick with.

Having logged a bit over 1800 miles for the year, I think one of my 2010 goals will be to run 2010 miles. Had I not had to taper for 4 marathons and Pikes Peak, the mileage would be much higher. We'll see how it goes. I can't help but think that all of us out there pounding the miles we do are just one step away from an injury. I need to be careful and listen. This body's not getting younger (whaaa!).

I hope everyone had the merriest of holidays and lots of smiles were had by all. I know here in Jill land, it was a grand day! Well, aside from the almost puking-in-the-car moment.