Contact Paper and Adventures in Graduation

I have this vague memory when I was smaller of adults cooing over how old I was getting, how tiny I used to be, and how they just remember me as a certain age.

I always found that annoying. Like, how? Do you not see me standing here now, clearly older? I was especially weirded out by people who exclaimed  how big I’d grown from when they used to babysit me, because I had no memory of any of that. Then they’d all wonder aloud where the time went and everyone else would nod in unison and agreement. I’d run away and play the first chance I had, wondering why all adults were so strange.

Then I watched my sister walk across the stage at her college graduation, the proud new owner of a Bachelor’s degree holder (they send it in the mail later which I’ve always thought was strange. Congratulations on your brand new degree….holder!) , and wondered to myself where the time went.

Confession: that’s not the first time that thought had crossed my mind.

And I already know I’m strange, so don’t bother telling me.

To backtrack a bit, I boarded a plane on Thursday headed for the mediocre  great and boring exciting state of Ohio. After a small freak out on Wednesday night about the fact that I wouldn’t be able to carry on my hairspray or mousse (see fear: pouf hair) and a perhaps-a-bit-too-frantic text to my mom and sister about the existence of said items at the house, I boarded the plane confident that I’d be able to keep my hair under control for the weekend.

If you had my hair, you’d understand.

Natalie had three main goals for the weekend:

1. Graduate

2. Move from apartment A to apartment B

3. Hang out with cool sister

Ok, I may have made that last one up.

Day One of “Operation Move Apartment” went fairly smoothly. No one broke any bones or threw any items across the room, which to me counts as a victory. I almost threw a do-it-yourself bench across the room when I couldn’t get the pieces to fit into the pre- measured holes, and found myself repeatedly sitting on them in my attempts to get the legs all the way into the seat. I was especially annoyed (albeit appreciative) after one of her guy friends managed to get them to fit in about 2 minutes.(Apparently all 128 pounds of my body just wasn’t good enough.) What was supposed to be a half day task naturally ended up taking all day, because the apartment hadn’t been cleaned very well after the previous person had moved out. Seriously, the dirt on the shelves? Gross. And in desperate need of a good scrub and some contact paper.

Contact paper and I have a love-hate relationship after spending several hours in a tiny kitchen (standing on the previously mentioned stool) covering shelves. Measure, cut, peel, unstick paper that stuck to itself or myself, press. Unpeel, repress. Flatten out bubbles. Unpeel, fix corner, repress. Flatten out bubbles. Cut excess with razor blade. Flatten. Rinse, repeat. I did it so many times that each time I peeled the paper from the backing I sang a two word song to myself titled simply “Contact Paper”,  which naturally became the joke of the weekend and was something I started singing at random times to amuse myself. I declared to anyone who would listen that I was 29 going on 18. Until that evening anyway when Natalie and her friend decided they wanted to go out to the bars….at midnight. It was already, like, 2 hours past my bedtime.

Is it bedtime yet?

At 2am, I pulled the “old” card and declared it was time to head back  because I wanted to go to bed.

I am so lame.

Also, on a totally unrelated note, double fudge cookie dough blizzards with peanut butter cups? Fabulous.

Saturday I got my happy butt out of bed and dragged it and Natalie’s butt running. We showered, ran a couple errands, grabbed breakfast and then I attacked contact paper: part 2. (Measure, cut, peel, unstick paper that stuck to itself or myself, press. Unpeel, repress. Flatten out bubbles. Unpeel, fix corner, repress. Flatten out bubbles. Cut excess with razor blade. Flatten. Rinse, repeat.)

After that, it was off to graduation:

Hi, we are with the graduate

I look nice now….

but I’ll totally steal your dollar when you aren’t looking

21 and 29 respectively, going on 5. We ranged many ages this weekend

Congratulations, Natalie.

FINALLY after all of that it was time for operation contact paper: part 3. (Measure, cut, peel, unstick paper that stuck to itself or myself, press. Unpeel, repress. Flatten out bubbles. Unpeel, fix corner, repress. Flatten out bubbles. Cut excess with razor blade. Flatten. Rinse, repeat.)

And you thought I was going to say dinner.

After another late night the whole family went to church the next morning. My aunt, who suffers from arthritis, asked me if I wouldn’t mind rubbing a couple of knots out of her shoulders. Afterwards, she told me she caught herself starting to ask me if, and I quote “did han.d jobs”. (i.e. would I massage her hands?)

For the record, the answer is yes, I do massage hands. Get your mind out of the gutter.

We took a trip in my mom’s convertible, where my mom and sister shared their incredible “cool-ness”

Suddenly, I had blinked and the weekend was over. And I found myself asking the question that I found so strange before: where did the time go? In fact, even with this incredibly long drawn out fertility journey, I ask myself that. It was nice to spend a weekend not worried, focused or even caring about fertility.

It’s time for more weekends like that. Ones that involve living and enjoying life.

Thanks for the awesome weekend, family.

An Ode to (Silly) Irrational Fears

I’ve noticed a few ridiculous neuroses lately:

1. A few weeks ago after my last 10k, I wrote about that fact that I learned of my own poor running form. At the advice of the nice guy selling shoes (though perhaps he just wanted me to buy new shoes) I googled running form and found this New Balance Website on Good Form Running.

Basically there are four steps involved: posture, cadence, midfoot, and lean. After studying the videos, I decided to try my hand at this new fangled running form, and found that the mid foot wasn’t as difficult as I feared, but did take a good bit of concentration. I’ve also been reading Born To Run, which, in short, says that all humans were born to run (hence the title) and that the invention of super cushioned, pronation controlled shoes has actually INCREASED injuries rather than decrease them. It also advocates for barefoot running, or at the very least, a shoe with very little cushioning. (read the book runners, seriously).

Anyway, the interesting thing about this is that it turns out most runners are doing it wrong and striking on the heel (which, according to the book, is mostly due to the shoe – because if you run barefoot you automatically are forced to use better form in order to protect your feet and use the most padded part), but suddenly I’m finding myself all self conscious about my running style, peeking over my shoulder periodically while on the treadmill at the gym, wondering who  might be staring at me and wondering what the heck I am doing. Perhaps because it partially feels awkward (old habits die hard), but mostly because I feel like I look funny. It’s as if I need a running disguise.

You can’t see me

Clearly I sometimes care too much about what other people think. However, I’m still working on the mid foot strike.

2. Bryan went on one of the more recent trips to the grocery store by himself, and I had asked him to pick up some hair spray. He, unknowingly (though he does pay attention because he did get me the right brand) grabbed the “flexible hold” hairspray, which to me reads: fluffy hair. However, because I don’t want to waste it, I’ve been using it and have had this immense fear of fluffy hair.

In case you don’t know, I have insanely curly hair. It has a tendency, when untamed, to become quite frizzy. Mousse and hairspray are my staple items, neither of which I could live without without an impending panic attack. Those two things, plus chapstick, would send me on a run to a 24 hour drugstore if discovered missing.  If I don’t spray enough hair spray into my hair when the day starts, I spend all day fearing fluff head:

this is actually a tame version

If too fluffly, I’ll refuse to leave my house without fixing it first, so that I might encounter

3. The ball.

I’ve played softball on and off for 20 years. (ugh I sound old). And you know what? I’m afraid of the ball.

Which is why I play outfield or first base, because very few ground balls get hit to first, and outfield balls usually slow down after hitting the grass. For whatever reason (because its never actually happened to me) I have this fear that its going to hit some rock, bounce up and smack me in the chin.

I dunno why the chin.

And yes, I continue to still play softball. I just try to stay out of the war zones.

And sometimes have a glass of wine first.

It’s kinda ridiculous.

 My heart beats a thousand times

I forgot my hairspray

And that means a run to the store

Or I won’t go out today

I could go for a run except

I’ve begun to change my stride

And I think you might be staring at me

At the treadmill by my side

I put myself in the outfield

Avoiding the “fear of the ball” curse

My stupid fears will make me nuts

Unless I shoot them first

Week 17- The Run That Was Hard to Stomach

Week 17 – 8 miles.

Of all of the long runs scheduled during this training, I would not have expected one of the shortest to also be the most difficult. After all, I’ve gotten through 13, 14, (15 turned to 10 because I was sick) 17, 18, 19 and conquered 20 with much more ease than planned (not to say it was easy, just easiER than I dreaded) so I went into this week, the last long run before race day, thinking “piece of cake!”

(mmm cake…) of course courtesy of Pinterest

WRONG.

As mentioned in yesterdays Laziness 2.0 post (one should not post while groggy on phenergan), Bryan and I went on a “Date Night” Friday night which included going out to eat and running a couple errands……. Is it just me, or do date nights get more lame as we get older? Dinner and errands! Woo hoo! Bring on the wine and fancy outfits! I’m not sure if I should feel more ashamed of the lameness of date night or the fact that I was excited about it. But I digress.

I got a couple gift cards to Applebees for Christmas and so off we went. It was busy so we sat at the bar. I had a glass of wine and ordered an under 550 calorie meal…..with a side of fries. (what? I have to offset the calories somehow). The food actually tasted quite good – it was a chicken skillet with veggies, some rice and a spicy sauce….seemed safe. (HA!)

Then off to Staples to buy a 2012 calendar and oogle over one of the new giant screened computers that’s a touch screen (I may or may not have exclaimed aloud “oooo! I want one!”) before heading over to Walmart for some groceries and good quality people watching.While we didn’t see anyone quite like this:

(people of Walmart — thanks pinterest)

we did see a women in PJ’s, and another sans bra. (ick)

We headed home. Then my stomach started to hurt. Great. Bryan, the human pharmacy, gave me a phenergan and I went to bed hoping to sleep it off.

No such luck. To spare you all the gory details, I did NOT sleep it off. I was, in fact, up multiple times enjoying the company of our master bathroom commode. (I would have written it a poem, but I didn’t feel well) While I can’t be sure it was food poisoning vs a flu bug, the timing of the whole ordeal leads me to think it was food related.

Needless to say, there was no run for me yesterday. In fact, thanks to the drowsiness side effect of phenergan, I slept. Literally. All day. So long in fact, that I wasn’t even aware that a human could sleep for that long. Aside from probably a couple hours total where I got up to go to the bathroom, eat a popsicle, drink some  juice, or blog while groggy, I slept for nearly 32 hours.

Well, there went Saturday.

I felt much better this morning, though not yet 100%. Just for fun I decided to step on the scale. While I definitely do NOT condone the food poisoning diet, I wanted to see the damage.

Yup. Down 3 pounds. (trust me, not for long)

And because of my slight overbearing obsessiveness, decided to brave the 8 mile run anyway. My stomach was less than pleased (and yet still, thankfully, remained intact), my time was horrible (it was more of a run/walk) but I did it.  And with that complete, I have officially completed my last long run before race day in a mere 7 days.

Man time flies.

Holy cow I’m done with the training!!!!

Here’s hoping my stomach is back to normal by then.

 

Week 16 – I Don’t Stop When I’m Tired, I Stop When I’m Done

Week 16 – 12 miles.

Today, or I guess really earlier this week, marks the beginning of “Tapering” during the training schedule, which to me means three things:

1. The hardest part is over!

2. It’s all downhill from here!

3. Race day is looming closer

It’s also the last run of 2011. I spent it thinking about what I’ve spent most of 2011 thinking about – babies. Only today I was thinking about how I’m going to make it happen instead of being sad about it not happening, which is a  slight change of pace.  Although I chuckle at my “Running is a mental sport and we are all insane” magnet, once thing I’ve discovered this time around is that running really is as much if not more mental than physical. Two weeks ago my heart wasn’t in it, and my time reflected it. Today, I felt good, and my time reflected it, running a full minute per mile faster than the same distance two weeks ago.  All in all though it doesn’t really matter – what matters is that regardless of how tired I was, how unmotivated I felt, I still finished.

Just try to stop me (courtesy of Facebook)

I think the same holds true for battling infertility. Infertiles are marathon runners, just in a different way. (Though, at least the training schedule for running a marathon has a definite start and end time.)

Interestingly, after the run today I met a friend for breakfast, who asked me a very fair question: Why do I feel the need to have children NOW? What is that feeling like?I couldn’t really give her an answer, except to say that once you have the feeling, you will know. But I’ve been thinking about it since then. It’s hard to explain something that feels almost instinctual.  It’s almost like meeting the person you know you’re going to marry. You just know. I also can’t explain why its so important that I feel I need to have children right now. By all logic, I’m young enough to wait a year or even two years longer and the effect on my body wouldn’t be all that negative, especially since we know where we stand. It isn’t like 2 years from now we’d be starting from scratch trying to figure out if its going to happen. For whatever reason though, it just feels like something is missing. And, I feel happier and more relieved being proactive lately than just waiting.

Watch out 2012. I don’t stop when I’m tired, I stop when I’m done.

Week 15 – The Case of the Missing Spatula

Week 15 – 20 miles. (YAY its taper time!)

This week was THE week. The run I’ve been dreading since day 1. The longest run on schedule. The one I complained about last week. And, thankfully, the last one. Until race day of course.

Seriously, I’ve been semi dreading this run for weeks. I knew we were going to be in colder weather and I honestly figured I’d be on my own, so I was picturing myself running 20 miles on sidewalks bundled up like the kid in A Christmas Story while hurdling over snow drifts.

Perhaps my imagination has a mind of its own….just a little.

Luckily, my long time friend and fellow crazy runner (actually, she’s worse) volunteered to run part of the run with me if I met her at the path halfway between our two houses. As it turns out, we also met for dinner the night before at a restaurant within walking distance of the pathway. We arrive at dinner and I get out of the car.

Brr. Its cold. Great.

We talked a bit about the run the night before. Was I nervous? Did I bring food to eat along the way? Did I bring warm clothes? My parents so nicely drove by the entrance before we went home so I’d know where I was going. It looked a bit daunting in the dark. I distinctly remember saying ” I’ll bet we’ll be the only cars here at 7:30am”.

Morning didn’t greet me very warmly. My bed did. But I got up anyway, got dressed, ate a bit and was out the door.

My car greeted me with a smile. (Good morning! Don’t you wish you were still in bed?)

Unfortunately, when I tried to start it, it wouldn’t turn over. Fabulous. After having the semi flu on Thursday and now my car not starting I was beginning to think I wasn’t meant to run this thing. Luckily, though, the car turned over. But, I forgot about the ice and snow. My windshield was iced over. And having lived in SC for the last 5 years, I no longer own an ice scraper. So I went back into the kitchen and grabbed a spatula. There were three of them there so I figured it wouldn’t be missed for a few hours. (it worked pretty well actually….perhaps there is a market for spatula scrapers?)

Finally I was off. Then my low tire pressure light came on. For the love of Pete. Oh well, I’m still off.

I arrived and pulled into the parking lot. And was greeted by half a dozen other cars.

Well I’ll be damned. We ARE all insane.

My goal was to try to keep a 10 minute mile pace on average. I’d tried a 9:15 or so at 17 miles and about died at the end. My 19 miler was a struggle, though I tend to run slower alone, so I figured this one could take me almost 3 and a half hours. I also have a tendency to start out too fast and hurt through the end, so I made sure to say I wanted to try to stay around a 10 minute mile in order to avoid 4 miles of “ow”.

Ironically, for all the dreading, worrying and complaining, this run turned out to be the best of them all. The trail was really nice, the weather was perfect, and overall I felt really good. I dunno if it was the ibproufen I took before I left, the weather, the company or the eating a bigger amount every hour instead of a little at a time that did it (or maybe all of the above). Jenny (bless her) actually stuck around for all 20. (who runs 20 miles for fun? oh wait…) Around mile 14, where I usually hit a wall and start to get sore, I was actually gradually going FASTER. Surprised, but feeling ok, I just went with it, and actually finished the last mile at 8:38 . Overall, I actually finished the 20 mile run faster than the 19. (9:28 min/mile or 3 hours 9 minutes!)

Thanks Jenny. Seriously. She’s about the only girl I know that would run 20 miles with me just because.

We look pretty good for having just run 20 miles. Oddly, I feel pretty good, too. And the best part about it? Its all downhill from here.

I got home, showered, and my dad was making breakfast. He starts getting the eggs together.

Dad: Where the HECK is my spatula?!?

Oops.

Me: Uh….that was me. I used it to scrape the ice off my car.

I guess I grabbed the wrong spatula.

Apparently, while he was making eggs earlier, he was looking for this particular spatula. He had my sister searching drawers, and finally my mom, exasperated, states “maybe Bryan stole it”

Poor Bryan.

Moral of the morning? Sometimes when the conditions are right, the hardest trials can feel like the easiest.

Also, don’t steal my dad’s favorite spatula.

Week 14 – Keeping the Engine Running

Week 14 – 12 miles.

An “easy” run comparatively, but truthfully, my heart just hasn’t been in it this week. I’m hoping that maybe I’m just hitting another wall that will pass and not make the last 4 weeks feel like an eternity. Even the shorter runs are feeling like they are taking extra energy, and I’m noticing that I’m running slower. That’s not a bad thing, really, just that it means I’m having to push myself a little more.

I really wanted to skip this run. I had more than a few “want to throw in the towel” moments. It seems silly. I’ve run this distance a bunch of times before. I’m only 4 weeks away from race day. I’m only one long run away, but something recently has just had me feeling less than motivated. At this point, I think the only thing that kept me running was sheer force of habit. Its Saturday. I get up. I run a long run. That’s how it goes. And so I got up and I ran. Sometimes, difficult things are easier to tackle, and sometimes difficult things are just….difficult.

And the run went well all things considered. I got to wear my new shoes (woo hoo!). I finished in 2 hours, didn’t have alot of “ow” moments and kept myself entertained listening to my audiobook. That audiobook has actually come in handy. I’ve found myself listening to it on my short runs too. It’ll never win over actually sitting and reading one. There is something about listening to one that creates alot of “geez can we just find out what happened already???” moments (maybe the abdridged version would have been better after all) because you can’t listen to a book as fluidly as you can read one, but overall it was a really good idea. (Thanks Jenna!)

Anyway, I digressed a bit.

Even with the run over, I still find myself feeling a bit discouraged. I suspect that its not all related to running , but it doesn’t help. I need the motivation back for next week, which currently seems extra daunting (also silly, since its only one mile more than I ran last week). I’m kinda dreading the short runs next week, and really dreading next weekends’ 20 miler. I knew going into this it wasn’t going to be all fun and games,but there is alot of truth to the phrase “running is a mental sport”. If your head isn’t in it, your legs don’t wanna be in it, either. (the feet go on strike, too)

On the plus side, at a neighborhood gift exchange yesterday I won the most awesome mug ever:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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On the left, my coffee is exposed to the frosty, 70 degree open air. And on the right? Kept perfectly warm, thanks to snowman head with his cool top hat.

Can’t get any cooler than that.

No, you can’t.

Because I’m a crazy creature of habit and I know in the end it’ll be worth it, I’ll keep lacing up my shoes and heading outside with my ipod and “can’t we just find out what happened already?” audiobook. However, if anyone sees my motivation lying around somewhere (perhaps it jumped off and ran away after the umptheenth mile), I’d be grateful!

And, because I have to have at least SOMETHING funny in even a serious post, a picture:

 

Week 13 – Running is a Mental Sport, and We are All Insane

Week 13 – 19 miles (and an audiobook review)

Yesterday while driving to the office, I was behind a car sporting the following bumper magnet:

Yeah I had to have one. It’s coming in the mail.

It’s true, though. A co-worker made a good point when she mentioned that people have said to her “how the heck can you run 26 miles?”. And really, its not the race that’s the issue – the race is the fun part. The training is the hard part, and I think where the true insanity lies. I “signed” myself up for 18 weeks of running in preparation to…..run.(insanity)

Anyway, since I wasn’t going to be running in an area where stopping at a gas station was possible, and realized a bit too late in the game last time that water alone probably wasn’t gonna do it, some extra prep was in order. (insanity)

That funny contraption? Is my fuel belt. I bought that last year for the race. Its a neat concept. It has 4 water bottles, two pouches and two zip pockets. I stopped for the power bar, starburst and a Powerade on the way home from work with the hope that the glucose would help me keep going (and I’m all for any excuse to buy candy)) I made myself eat half the power bar before hand, broke up the rest and put it in a baggie to take along, as well as the Starburst (though I may or may not have eaten a couple yesterday…..) After putting it all together, I looked like this:

But felt like I looked like this:

And I was off….belt, watch, music, audiobook, my phone (since I was alone) extra bottle of water to place in case I needed it (insanity) and all.

So the concept of the fuel belt is much better in concept than in practice. The stupid thing has a tendency to bounce around. Usually it starts to settle after a couple of miles, but I also don’t usually have all four water bottles full. The extra weight was making it extra bouncy. I actually ran out of the neighborhood with one hand holding the extra water and my ipod and the other holding the belt down. That was a sight, I’m sure. And of course I passed people walking their dogs. I can only imagine the look they shared.

All in all though, it wasn’t too bad. Aside from the bouncy-ness of the belt (I wonder if that is how well endowed women feel) and fatigue after the first 14 miles (insanity), running the long run alone wasn’t as bad as I dreaded. I listened to music through the first half and then when I got tired of it, switched over to the audiobook.

The audiobook:  I hit play, and then music started playing (I thought this was a book?) and a voice came on, introducing the book. Thankfully, the music stopped once the intro was over, but the few seconds of it for some reason caused me to picture an old man in a chair by a fireplace smoking a pipe (even though the narrator was a woman) with classical music playing in the background. Weird.

So the lady begins telling the story. Here’s my favorite part: the voices of the characters. This is hysterical. She is jumping from character to character, slightly altering her voice for each one, including the men. I’m sorry, but I have trouble with this. It causes me to picture a woman dressed in a suit (perhaps with a pipe sitting by a fireplace?) attempting a deepened voice. It was just odd. Once I was able to mentally surpass this oddity, though, it really wasn’t so bad. It fit its purpose, and I’d use it again, though probably only for running or painting.

At a 10:22 min/mile, it was slower than I would have hoped (same pace as last years’ race), but hey I finished it, so whatever.

The best part is: only one more long run left. Hallelujah! (but its gonna be in the cold….insanity)

Week 12 – A Run By the Numbers

Week 12 – 13 miles.

Running buddy and I were reunited today.

Our maturity continues to stand out.

I finally got to pick up my race stuff from The Evil Race, which I had completely forgotten about. I was excited to find that even though the race was evil, the stuff was cool. This one in particular came with a long sleeved shirt (my favorite), a balloon and a coupon for a free donut. Sweet! It also had a granola bar, but I ate that.

Today was Lynnsey’s longest run since her bike injury a couple weeks ago, and my “easy” week as far as long runs go. She’s signed up for a half marathon next week and is shooting for under a 10 minute mile.

Today’s run, by the numbers:

Miles run: 13.1 (though we did cut through a parking lot, so it may be a bit less)

Time spent running: 2 hours, 6 minutes, 24 seconds

Minutes per mile: 9:38

Number of minutes my fingers were numb: about 20

Number of hero bike injury stories: 0 (Final score Curb: 1 Lynnsey: 0)

Number of people who waved at us: 3

Number of people who gave us WTF looks: too many to count

Number of near death experiences: 2 (see also: number of times the bird was flipped)

Number of condoms spotted on the side of the road: 1

Number of clothing items stripped off: 2 (don’t get too excited, it was a jacket and an ear warmer)

Number of “why the heck did I sign up for this?” comments: 1 said out loud, about a million thought I’d imagine

Number of times I thought about coffee: too many to count

Number of people spotted with coffee who I gave a dirty look: 1

Number of things I have so far on my “you know you’re a crazy runner when” list: 10

Number of times we stopped to stretch: 3

Number of times I, like, caught myself saying the word “like”: way too many

Number of made up words: 3 (clomment, foots and ducken)

Number of duckens we saw: about a dozen (they looked like a chicken duck combo – hence the term)

Number of donuts I pictured myself eating: about 6

Number of runs left till race day: 24 (!!)

Week 11 – They See Me Runnin. They Hatin.

Week 11 – 18 miles.

I was browsing Pinterest this morning before my run and found this gem again:

Just insert running in for rolling and there you go.

I ran with John, aka “the one who runs faster” again this week, and with an additional mile added I noted that I probably need to run a bit slower to avoid screaming calves part 2. (and subsequently, sitting on frozen veggies, part 2). We ran on a nearby trail today, through a neighborhood (soon to be known as the circle of hell), down more of the trail, back through the circle of hell and back to the car.

Yes. To the car. I drove somewhere to run. I get how stupid that sounds.

The first few miles were, as usual, pretty uneventful. We talked more about running (man I need a life) and how it can be hard to hear what people are saying while you’re running. So I sometimes just say “yeah” or “I know what you mean” and hope they aren’t saying something like “man I have a huge booger stuck up my nose”. I decided that I hated “the one who runs faster”‘s fancy watch because it beeped every mile and reminded me how far I had left to go.

Around mile 4 we entered the circle of hell. I called it that because it was the longest. two. miles. ever. And not even because I was tired, because we were only 4 miles in, but because it just seemed like it never ended. Plus it had a hill, which was just extra ridiculous. On the plus side, we passed a house that would make a perfect haunted house at Halloween, and when we passed it both times, I sung scary music in my head. And possibly imagined a zombie.

I was thankful for the gas station at mile 8 because it allowed me 3 things. 1. a break 2. a bathroom and 3. an an opportunity to buy some Gatorade and something to chew on. I’m guessing that piling on long run on top of another without a break is wearing on me a little, because I’m already getting tired. So I got some blue Gatorade and fruit Mentos (the freshmaker!) and we were on our way.

Are my legs supposed to be hurting already?

Muscle soreness starts to set in around mile 10 and I basically just try to distract myself by talking. That works until mile 14 when we exit the circle of hell for the second time and “the one who runs faster” decides to do what he does best: run faster. Because I’m going slower.

Yeah you go ahead and have fun with that.

These last 4 miles are the most interesting, because now I’m by myself. I get lazy by myself. One of the first things I do once he’s ahead is walk for a bit. This helps until I try to start up again, because for the first few steps of running again, its actually kinda painful. I catch myself saying “ow” out loud. Since I don’t have my ipod with me this time or anything to distract me from attempting ridiculous song lyrics, I give it another go.

They see me runnin

They hatin

Because they get a whiff of something sweaty and dirty

Yeah I’m smellin and I’m dirty

18 miles, sweaty and dirty

Gonna hug you, sweaty and dirty

Man, I wish I had annoying watch right now, because at least then I would have an idea of how many miles are left. Another runner is crouched down up ahead and I hope that he isn’t planning to kidnap me, because I’m so tired that my only escape possibility would be to scream. Maybe I could bite him? Or kick him where it counts and then limp away? Punch him in the nose?

Then he stops stretching, gets up and continues.

Phew. Crisis averted.

At about mile 17 ( I think ) I start to pass from ow mode into “the point of no return”. AKA I’m completely on auto pilot and God help me if I stop because I probably won’t be able to start running again. I can’t concentrate on anything really so I literally start counting from 1-100 over and over again until I get to the end. I’m at almost 1000 when I see “the one who runs faster” running back towards me. He so kindly turned back so that I didn’t have to run the end by myself and I thanked him by flipping him the bird.

Now don’t yell at me. I really was appreciative that he came back, I was just flipping him off because not only did he finish before me, but he had enough energy to turn around and run some more. I mean, I was counting from 1-100 over and over again for pete’s sake.

He informs me that in order to hit 18 miles, I actually have to run slightly past my car to a nearby telephone pole. And because 17.98 miles just isn’t going to cut it, I do it.

Yay! My car! A shower! I’m done!

I did manage to run a slower pace this week (aka, was forced to by fatigue), and managed to avoid screaming calves part 2, but unfortunately am still going too fast for the full race since I was as tired as I was at the end. 9:16min/mile today.

2 LONG runs down, 2 to go.

And I totally want a shirt that says: They see me runnin. They hatin.

Week 10 – Plan B

Week 10 -  17 miles

This week was my first LONG run. All week I’ve been kinda dreading this run. It’s rare that I dread a Saturday, but I was not looking forward to this one. The only consolation was that I wasn’t going to have run it by myself.

Plan A: Run with buddy.

But unfortunately, after recovering from an injury and traveling for a week, she was not feeling up to running the whole thing. So then we agreed that I’d run 6 miles and she’d meet me at my house to run the remaining 11. Okay. Cool.

Except she forgot about a previously planned church activity. Which I’m pretty sure was alot more fun than running for multiple hours.

Meaning I was on my own. Or I needed a Plan B.

Actually, plan B did not involve my dog. Although he probably would have enjoyed running, 17 miles probably would have done him in, if a car didn’t run him over. Or if I didn’t let him off the leash after being pulled for the 12837th time, whichever comes first.

But I digress. So I got in contact with another runner who was, luckily, willing to run 10 with me.

So I ran the first 6 alone. No big deal.  I tend to run along busy roads, because running 17 laps around my neighborhood just doesn’t really appeal to me. (hey! a house! hey, the same house! hey, the same house again!) I’m used to funny looks and honks, but today someone actually slowed down as I was running and shouted out the window “hey, how far are you running?”. Realizing he couldn’t possibly be talking to anyone else and relieved he wasn’t attempting to kidnap me by offering me candy, I answered “17 miles”. Funny that he caught me on my long day. He goes “wow…..I can only run 3.” I said “hey, its still something” and then he wished me a good day and drove away. In all the runs I’ve done, thats the first time someone has actually stopped and talked to me. And didn’t honk or whistle or give me a WTF are you doing? kind of look. (Well, since you’re asking, I’m actually on a spy mission, posing as a long distance runner)

So then I run to John’s house and we continue along. Faster. Crap. I totally forgot that he tends to run like, a minute per mile faster than I do. This should be interesting. But I figure I’ll either keep up or I’ll run some at the end on my own. I try to keep my mind occupied asking about his recent marathon, telling my half marathon story and exchanging other random musings about running, training, and other peoples’ training. (Runners talk about running while running alot – you’d think we would have other things to discuss…you’d be right, but even when we do, the conversation tends to still veer towards running at some point)

I was thankful today for my non squeeze water bottle because it allowed me a few excuses to walk (I need a water break and I don’t want to choke!). I actually felt pretty good until about mile 15, when the back of my legs and calves started to tighten up.

The rest of the run went like this in my head: ow. are we there yet? ow. are we done yet? ow….you get the idea.

It was the final mile that any change in terrain became increasingly difficult. Curbs? Ow. Rocks? Ow. Moving? Ow. I would have expected my lungs to complain, but it was actually my legs. All in all though, it went better than I dreaded, finishing in 2:31:16. or an 8:52 min/mile including a few short drink breaks. Not bad. But definitely too fast for a full marathon pace.

When I got home and cooled down my calves finally decided to really rebel. (Did I mention ow?) After a shower….because not only did I feel like I ran for 17 miles, I also smelled like it, I spent about 30 min on frozen vegetables. (The only time I really appreciate spinach)

That combined with 3 ibproufen and I feel good as new.

Ok that’s a lie.I’m worn out. But at least without calf pain.

And thanks to what I can only guess is running induced amnesia, plan to do it again next week!

Any takers?