Running Is An Emotional Roller Coaster

The Emotions One Experiences on Race Day
(Specifically, the 30K Team Haasome ran two weekends ago)

3 AM - Confusion
When you have to wake up in the middle of the night for a race, a number of things run through your foggy brain:

"Why is the alarm going off at 3 a.m. on a Sunday?"
"Why didn't you set the coffee pot last night before we went to bed?"
"Why do we do this to ourselves?"
"What's stopping me from hitting snooze 18 times?"

4:30 AM - Excited Anticipation
The haze in your brain has usually cleared up by now and once you have your number pinned on, you begin thinking things like:

"Man, this is great! No one else up at this time except for me and 1,000 of my closest friends. Runners sure are awesome."
"I can't believe I'm doing this again!! AAGGGHHH! AWESOME! Let's go run 18+ miles!"
"We got this! WOOT! OMG OMG OMG here we go!"

5-6 AM - Happy
This is from the time the gun goes off through the first 6 miles and some change. During this time, you can expect to feel genuinely happy (hard to beleive, but true):

"Wow. Look at that sunrise. This is great."
"Don't you feel good?! I sure feel good. I'm so happy to be out here running and feeling good!"
"Man, I'm SO happy that we decided to do this together"

7 AM - Anger
Due to confusion over a nature break that was required, maybe your running partner gets a little testy with you over having to wait. Happiness/elation is gone and now not only are you feeling achey in your knees, but you are pissed off and your brain is saying things like:

"How was I supposed to know were were rendezvousing over there?! I know I'm haasome, but I'm not a damn mind reader"
"Oh, now he's not talking to me. Fine. Both ear buds in...turn up the volume...it's like he's not even there"
"Pffft. It's like he thinks I'm not even here. I thought the point was to do this together. I guess it's just all about you. Like everything else. So not surprised."

7:15 AM - Spite
After a couple of quippy smart-ass comments back and forth, coupled with the increasing stress your body is enduring around mile 13, you may just have had enough. You think the only logical thing there is to think:

"I can still totally kick his ass. I'm going to run a few steps ahead of him for the next mile or so just so he still knows what's up."

And you do. And you smirk to yourself. And your knees/back/feet are really starting to hurt.

7:30 AM - Resolve/Contrition/{Whatever emotion you feel when all hope is gone}

You have proven your point and now feel bad. A couple of slaps on the butt and you are back in action - the only problem is, you want to die. Not just your brain, but every cell of your body is screaming at you:

"Well done, you proved your point - but for the love of God and all things holy, YOU MUST STOP RUNNING!!!"
"Hey! My hamstring doesn't hurt anymore! Oh wait, it's because I really think my leg is going to have to be amputated at the knee at the next aid station."
"Where is the next aid station?! If there's an ambulance there, I'm on it"
"There is nothing good in the world."

8 AM - Elation!!!!
You can see the finish line! It is there before you! Friends are cheering and you KNOW there is a cooler waiting for you in the truck filled with post-race happiness. You think:

"We are the best runners on the planet!"
"No one has ever been so amazing!!!!"
"That really wasn't that bad. Man, running is the best"
"Endorphins are the BEST!!!!!"
"I'm happy this is over! Where's my muffin? Where's the CHAMPAGNE?!"

8:15 AM - Giddy/Exhausted/Justified
You just ran more than 18 miles and this is your reward:





Everything hurts, but you feel great. Just look at how wonderful you can feel after running so far:





The sun is shining! You have champagne! You are badass for running so far! You are surrounded by love and friends and everything that is good in the world. **Sigh** It just doesn't get better than this.

Until....

8:45 AM - Puking. The worst of all Running Emotions
Running for so far has adverse effects on a body. I can't explain it. I'm a champagne champion. I can drink BOTTLES without feeling pukish, so one measley red solo cup shouldn't phase me. No, I don't blame the champagne. I blame the running.



Thanks for capturing the moment, babe! Mmmm...Cliff Shot Bloks and Champagne. Fantastic. Post-race puking runs in the Eppens Clan. DadE and David have also been known to give up the contents of their stomachs to the race gods. (Also: please note the flattering angle and how my calves look here!!)

I didn't say it was glamorous, this running business.


On that note, I'll say: Happy Trails, Friends!!! Here's to your continued running and emotional health!
xo

Tantalus

A History Lesson

What's more awesome than learning about Greek mythology on Columbus Day? Nothing.

Tantalus was a son of Zeus. From what I can tell, he lived in the underworld and was crabby. He had a son named Pelops. Tantalus is famously known for cutting up Pelops, boiling him, and serving him to the gods as a sacrifice. Yummy, right? Well, the gods caught on, were grossed out eventually put the poor boy back together. But the moral of the story? Tantalus was bad. He was associated (obviously) with cannibalism and human sacrifice. So he was PUNISHED in true Greek mythological fashion - he had to stand forever in a pool of water with a low-hanging fruit tree above him. Only whenever he reached up for fruit, the limbs climbed higher so he couldn't reach them. And when he bent down to get a drink of water, the pool receded so he couldn't reach that either. It's where we get the word tantalize - temptation without satisfaction. Go figure, huh? This turned out to be an English lesson, too! Lucky you!!

Why do I share this story, you ask? Welp, Tantalus is also a road in Honolulu. It's way up in the hills and a bunch of famous people/ambassadors/rich oil barons have residences up there. It's the home of the Tantalus 10-miler, which I ran yesterday morning.

Taking On Tantalus
First, here are some internet pictures that I found to represent what happened yesterday a.m. Taking pictures was not on the agenda, and you'll soon learn why....







Looks LOVELY, right?! Killer views, lots of shade, what more could you ask for on a run? Well, let me illuminate you, dear readers. This race was 10 miles (duh) and the first 4 1/2 were uphill. And then the next 5 were downhill. And then the last 1/2 mile was uphill. I'm not exaggerating. It's a fact. The elevation incline is 1500 feet. It lived up to everything a road named Tantalus should - it was deceptively alluring, grueling, cruel.

And yet...

BOOM!!!



"What's that?!" you ask - well, it's my 2nd place ribbon, of course! 2nd in my age group! Bwahahahahaha! TAKE THAT you evil, evil race! I OWNED you and got a friggin' RIBBON! I haven't won one of those since the 6th grade science fair! UGH!!!

Also, my good friend Kale who stuck by my side even when I KNOW he could have totally left me in his dust won a ribbon, too! 3rd place in his age division. Are we BA or what?



There are supposedly going to be pictures posted of the "awards ceremony" woohoo! If/when they become available, I will for SURE be throwing them up here.


Also of Note

This was a small race - whereas the readiness series races can have almost 1,000 runners, this one had MAYBE 150 (hence, my epic ribbon capabilities). They didn't have a huge spread full of gels and muffins at the end, but they did have the best damn Mountain Dew of my entire life. I swear, it's my new favorite post-race beverage.

Also, much like last year at this time, I'd like to give a high-five to Christopher Columbus for being mistakenly credited with finding the Americas and getting me a day off.

Cheers!

A Weighty Issue (I love a good pun)

To Begin With...
Hello there - welcome to Friday! The best of all days is upon us!!

Forgive me for being so absent. It's been a busy month with friends visiting, grad school starting (3 classes AGAIN this semester - I'm a jerk to myself), and other hullabaloo and I'm afraid that when my little life becomes oversaturated with tasks and demands, my fun little side projects are the first to fall off. I've been writing this post in my head for some time now, though. There is an internal game of ping-pong that goes on in my noggin on a daily basis and I figured I'd share it with you.

How It Began
A month or so ago (maybe more, I don't remember) I decided that losing weight this year was not nearly as easy as it was last year with Billy on deployment. This should come as no shock to anyone. When he's home, there's more dining out, ordering in, and for that matter more cooking (he frowns on popcorn and wine for dinner for some reason). It's also harder to make time to run, even during this whole training situation. Running around 2 schedules is trickier than just worrying abuot me, you understand. Whatever. So I went to the gym and got a personal trainer. During my "in" assessment, she pretty much looked at me and was like "why are you here?" to which I said "I want to lose 15-20 lbs and not have so much jiggle". She went through the assessment and showed me the print out (I can't find my copy - I'll scan it in when I can find it) and told me that I was silly. I was pretty much maxed out on cardiovascular wellness, heart rate lowness, bicep strength, body fat percentage (17%, for the record - that's really good) etc. She looked at me and said "People come to me to get to be like you. But if you want, you can come once a week".

And so I did. For about 4 weeks. During those sessions when she was having me row on that silly row machine or do circuit training or whatever it was, she'd always say "I've never seen anyone do this good this consistently" or "You're the first person I've trained here that finishes a workout stronger than they start". You'd think this would make me stoked - but it didn't. I stopped going because I didn't really think it was doing much for me that I couldn't do myself.

Besides, I wasn't going to a trainer for affirmation, I wanted to LOSE WEIGHT and it wasn't (isn't) happening!! I didn't need her to tell me how much I didn't need to be there - I needed her to tell me what a chunk I was so that I'd run faster/push harder/go longer.

The Conundrum
And all of that leads me to this problem: The reason (I think, anyway) that I can't lose weight is that one half of my brain is like that trainer lady telling me that I don't need to, and so I don't.

I know how to lose weight. I spent 6 months last year chronicalling my desire to dominate the scale and get thinner and solid-er before Billy came back from deployment. If calories in < calories out, weight loss will occur. Create a 500 calorie deficit every day, and you'll lose 1 lb a week. It's simple math. I get it. I've been doing this for a loooooonnnnngggg time.

Where I go astray is when the other side of my brain pipes up. The one that says, "Ash, you are fine the way you are. Other chicks would kill to look like you. You are healthy and you don't count calories and you drink wine and eat carbs and people like you for that. So go ahead, have another slice of pizza and sleep through your alarm when it wakes you up to run tomorrow!" All of that sounds well and good, right? Sounds like a normal, healthy frame of mind. But when I put on jeans that I bought last year that used to be "fat day" jeans and now even they are too tight, or I want to cry when I see pictures of me in a bathing suit and I really WANT to lose 15 lbs again, it doesn't help.

In Conclusion
Please, please, PLEASE don't think this is one of those "oh, I'm so unahppy with myself, everyone please write a lot of comments about how great I look so I can get some kind of validation" posts. That's NOT what I intended this to be, and I hope it didn't come across that way. What I'm trying to convey is this weird flip-flopping that goes on in my head DAILY (I can see Billy's eyes rolling right now and he's saying "Man, I'm glad I'm not a girl.")

Side one: I want to lose weight and be uber fit and healthy and motivated.

Side two: I don't want to worry about having a second brownie because I do alright for myself as it is.

I can't be the only woman (or person, for that matter - no need to rule out man imagee issues) that goes through this, can I? It is indeed a conundrum.

Creature of Habit

Happy Labor Day!!! (Redux)*
If you missed it last week, I'm a creature of habit. Day in, day out, I like the same things and people, same cocktails and locations. I have always thought that my time is very valuable (can't get it back, you know?) and so I tend to spend the spare time that I do have engaged in past times that I find particulary enjoyable. These are generally: beaching, surfing, reading, running, rum-ing, and...being? (not sure if that one counts, because it's not really a past time. Meh. My blog. I call the shots.) The point of this? Well, I went back and read my Labor Day blog from last year.

Now, I don't remember exactly what I did last Labor Day weekend, but I am pretty sure that it was almost exactly like this one. Billy is here this year, so natch, I had a lot more company this year BUT...it was almost exactly the same one year later. Am I'm boring and predictable? Probably. I like to view it more like "at the relatively young and buoyant age of 27, she already had cultivated her tastes so acutely that there was little room for refinement." Yes, that sounds better.

Since this is a blog about my running, it should be noted, most importantly, that I ran the same race last year that I did this year. Go fig...

The Race (Redux)
Almost exactly 1 min/mile slower than last year. And I'm not even mad about it. Billy and I had such a good time on Sunday morning. We ran with our dear friend and fellow runner, Kale, and 20K went by relatively quickly. The 3 of us crossed the finish line at the same time (right around 1:51) and in that nearly 2 hours developed quite the commoradarie.

I was going to break down where we finished overall, in our age groups and blah blah blah...but if you want to figure that out, you can just go here. I don't much feel like it right now. Most notable, however, was that Billy finished 26th in his age group. Do you remember the last race when he finished 262 overall?! HELLO!!! It's a sign! Marathons are 26.2 miles!! Get it?! I love this crap.

Also worth noting? Those of you who have been following me recall my feet looking like this, or this or this. Naturally, you will all be very disappointed to discover that nary a blister was procured on my precious tootsies during the race yesterday. Do not dismay, however! Billy Haas has officially entered runnerdom! Behold:





Billy earned his VERY FIRST blood blister! Congratulations, my love! He looked at me yesterday with concern in his eyes, waving his foot in my face and sputtered, "But I NEVER get blisters! EVER!!!" It took everything I had in me not to snarkily reply "Yeah, well you never ran before either, did you?" But I didn't. Because I'm just so darn proud of him and his little toe blister! Our longest run before the race - and therefore Billy's longest run ever - was 11 miles. When we hit the 11 mile mark yesterday and still had 1 1/2 miles to go, he turned and gave me and Kale high-fives. Every new distance is a new milestone for him and that's pretty cool. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: he's the driving force behind all the races, goals, blisters, and miles. I'm just along for the ride on this one.

Cheers!
And on that note I shall say "Happy Labor Day!" again, and get back to the business at hand, which is the same as the business last year at this time, and will inevitably next year as well: beaching, wine-ing, Jimmy Buffett-ing and grilling. Why mess with a good thing?!

*I am pretty drunk being as it is almost the end of Labor Day and I'm Ashleigh. Forgive the writing and any typos - I'm not proofreading.

(Ed Note: While writing this, Billy came up to me and was all "LOOK BABE!!! I have a blister on a toe on my other foot too! CRAZY huh?!" Yes, dear. Totally weird.)

Last Year/This Year

Last Year

August 29, 2010, I wrote This

I was up to 15 miles.

I only ran long runs on Sunday Mornings.

I did track workouts.

And "hill days".

I was motivated to lose weight.

I did the majority of my runs solo.

I whined about running (a lot).

I was a computer tech.

I got chub rub.

I drank wine.

I went to the beach.


{EstrogenFest 2010}

This Year

I ran 11 miles on a Sunday night (yesterday). It's the longest I've run thus far in training '11.

I've done 1 track workout.

And no "hill days".

I'm up in the air about losing weight. At this point, I view it as a pleasant bi-proudct of training.

I do (just about) all my runs with Billy.

I don't whine about running.

(Because compared to last year, I don't do much of it!)

I'm not a computer tech anymore (praise Jesus! he knows I wasn't very good at it).

I get chub rub.

I drink wine.

I go to the beach.


{My dear MuM doing what she does best

GLORY!!!

Racing is FUN!
Billy and I ran the first in a series of races leading up to the Marathon. I ran it last year. You can read about that here. If you don't feel like it, I'm going to go ahead and summarize the results, so don't worry. Most importantly (and I'm not just saying this because I ran 4 minutes slower than last year) is that this race was frickin' FUN. Like, "Ooooohhhhhh, so THAT'S why I woke up at 4 a.m. on a Sunday" fun.

It was fantastic to have a race buddy too. Billy and I ran together for the whole time, except for the last 50 yards or so when his long legs bettered my chubby gams. No matter, though. For 15 glorious kilometers (9.32 miles) there we were side by side, occasionally making fun of people (need to work on the snark factor)offering encouragement, checking up on each other now and again - in lovey marital running bliss. Sigh. Swoon! Vomit ;)

I knew going into it that I wouldn't be as fast as I was last year at this time. Last year around now my training was on a whole different level. Our goal was to just run 9 minute miles or faster - and we definitely did that. Setting realistic goals is important, and we were both very pleased with the way the race went. Also, because it went so well, it was not only a HUGE motivator to kick up our training, but also gave us a nice snapshot of where we are at. The outlook is sunny!

Just for fun, here's my stats from last year compared to this year:

Last Year
Time: 1:17:38
Finished: 203 out of 784 overall
Age Group: 11 out of 63

This Year
Time: 1:21:55
Finished: 267 out of 789 overall
Age Group: I was 6th in my age group, but I don't know how many of us "25-29F"s there were.
Av. mile split: 8:47

Billy
(It should be noted that this is the longest Billy has ever run in his life. He figures this means that everything is a PR)
Time: 1:21: 47
Finished: 262/789 (do you REALIZE the EPICNESS of this?! His first race in the Marathon Readiness series and he finished 262?! A marathon is 26.2 miles! HELLO!)
Age Group: 23
Av. Mile Split: 8:47

The More Things Change
So maybe last year at this time I was running faster than I am now. And last year I was on my own instead of with Billy. But, we all know that the more things change, the more they stay the same and alllll the lessons I learned last year about slathering feet with vaseline and wearing microfiber socks could not keep my battle wounds away:



Lovely blood blister, no? Didn't you all MISS the nasty pictures of my feet?!

Hope you enjoy ; )
xo

Bend With It

Flexibility In Life
Is important. Things change. Shit happens. Pleasant surprises come along. Life tends to be dynamic - and it's important to just roll with it rather than snap, no?

I find myself thinking a lot about flexibility of late. Some of you know that last week I was fraught with anxiety over a decision about jobs. "WHAT DO I DO?!?" I asked about a million times a day to anyone who I came in contact with whose opinion mattered to me. The dilemma was this: the job I have right now allows me to be extremely - you guessed it - flexible, the new job didn't come with that option. Currently, I work between two offices, so no one really knows where I am at any given time, and I can do a lot of my work from my home as long as I have my work computer(s) and my cell phone(s). I thoroughly enjoy leisurly lunches, impromptu customer meetings, site surveys, and the rest because my days aren't STRUCTURED or RIGID or TIGHTly packed with a set daily schedule. Yes, in life, I prefer flexibilty.

(and, for the record - although I accepted the other job offer against my better judgement, it ended up working out since my boss gave me a raise to stay. BOOM!)

Flexibility of Body
Now here, I have an entirely different outlook. I'm about as flexible as the wood chair I'm perched upon to write this. My muscles are tight - especially in my legs and lower back and stretching HURTS (!!!) so I generally don't do it.

Did I talk about this last year? I may have, I don't recall. Regardless, it warrants coming back to because I am trying, TRYING so very hard these days to improve my flexibility. Ok, that's a lie. I suppose I'm not really trying. But I WANT to be trying! And I WANT to be as flexible in my quads as I am in my job!!! And look all elegant and graceful and be able to do things like this:



And wanting all of that is very fine and dandy, but it's not going to make my lower back/hip woes disappear and wanting sure isn't going to make me all bendy like I want to be.

Being Flexible With the Life of My Body (or something like that)
So, in what is the most valiant attempt I've ever made towards furthering my flexibility (did you know flexibility as actually a measure of fitness?! true story. who knew?) I have started going to yoga classes. Pilates, too. Sometimes, I have even been stretching out before and after my runs! This may not seem like much, but to me it is HUGE because I've never seen my self as a mantra-chanting, birkenstock-wearing, healing-crystal wearing, "OM"ing kinda gal. I haven't seen much improvement yet, but it has to be helping right? I mean, the only way to get mo' flexible is to strech mo'. There's definitely a lot of stretching going on in yoga and pilates.

I'll try to keep you updated on the progress of my flexibility - in all facets of my being. The goal is to be able to put my palms on the floor and to eventually be so flexible and strong that I look like this:



Or this:


Or this:

(but without the ballet shoes, because we all know those dreams were thwarted long, long ago. And dancer's aren't allowed to have fat ankles) ;)

An afterthought
If any of you lovelies out there have any tips for improving my body's ability to bend, please, pass it along this way!!

Stress and the Solution

Yesterday
I was stressed out, so I went on a 60 minute run while Billy was flying to clear my head.

Today
I was stressed out so I'm drinking too much with Billy instead of doing a track workout (which we've put off for days).

It all evens out, you see.

xo

What Doesn't Kill You...

...might cost you a hip!

Myth: Running is good for you!
Fact: Running 26.2 consecutive miles put me in physical therapy for almost 6 months. Also, a lifetime of running is giving my dear dadE one of these:



That's what ol' dadE is going in for surgery tomorrow. A new hip. All of you must be thinking "YEESH...Ash, how old is your dad?" Well, I'm here to tell you he is 53 years young, which is (to me, anyway) not the age I think of when I start envisioning the type of person who needs a hip replacement. I can't be alone on this on, can I...?

In Running's Defense:
Running cannot be entirely blamed for dad's hip woes. He joined the Army right out of high school and as a Ranger (read: total badass) jumped out of a lot of planes. The impact from hitting the ground, even with a parachute, probably hasn't done his hip much good. Dad was also in a very bad car accident in his early 20s that messed him up pretty good. That doesn't help things either.

BUT
...neither has running. And just because those other factors hurt doesn't mean that running helped. In fact, I'm pretty sure that running 1,000s (10,000s? 100,000s?) of miles over my dad's life is a very LARGE contributing factor to why he has to go into surgery tomorrow.

Want to see what a "buss up"* hip looks like?


(bad hip)


(good hip)


See how there's no room between the hip bone and socket in the first x-ray?? That's because the cartilage is practically ALL GONE. Poor dad :( I feel so bad for him! Back in March the Eppens clan convened on Maui for a week of too much fun before Lil' Brother Epps shipped off on deployment. I remember dad couldn't walk too far because his hip was hurting so bad. Back when he visited me last October, we hiked Maunawili for goodness sake! I know it has to be hard for him to be so immobile when he's been so active (running, hiking, skiing, etc) for his whole life.

Is he nervous for tomorrow's surgery? Nah. He thinks this stuff is "neat." Mostly, I think he's just ready to get it done with and healed so that he can move around without pain again. And really - what was the alternative anyway? To not have jumped out of perfectly good planes? To not have logged all those miles? To not have run all those races and pusehd himself? To not do what he has always come so naturally to him and what (at the time) felt good? Puh-leeze. Some people run every day and then need a hip replacement at 53. Some people run every day and don't ever have any health problems. That's life. It could all be over tomorrow, so run as hard as you can today.

I do admit that I'm nervous. I'm nervous for my dad going in for major surgery. I'm nervous that my current hip problems are just a small taste of what awaits me in 20-something more years of pounding the pavement. But when I get really worked up, and the hamsters in my brain start spinning in their wheels, I do what I always do: go for a run, and then drink some wine. Clarity and perspective are almost always waiting at the end.

*Buss up is pidgin and out here it means "busted" "busted up" "messed up" or "really really really really drunk"

PS - DAD!!! I'm talking to YOU here! You have a month off of work. I totally expect you to write about running/your new hip/anything else for this blog while you're sitting around doped up on pain meds. It will be awesome!!!

The Art of Compromise

When I am motivated - as I was last year at this time - I am an early morning runner. A set your alarm an hour earlier and just get it done runner. A "I like to drink after work and sometimes AT work so I can't run in the afternoon" runner. There were exceptions, of course. Random bits of motivation that come fluttering in and are impossible to ignore. You have to seize those because they are rare (at least to me).

Last year I actually did a lot of my running on my lunch breaks too, because it was kind of the best of all worlds - didn't have to wake up early AND I could have a beer at the end of the day with my boss and coworkers.

But this year, it is all SO very different. I can tell in just the first week of this silly plan, and there are several reasons for it. The first reason it's different is that I have ZERO motivation to run on my own. None. Nothing. Billy is the one - it was his idea and he's the driving force. He's doing abs and arms and back and chest and and and and workouts BEFORE we go run. When he asks me to join, I'm like "meh. There are things going on in the interwebs that are very important and I can't miss right now." Another reason it's SO different this year is because I'm doing this as a team. This is good (see above motivating factor) but it means that I can't run on my lunch break. Nope - for the most part we are very much trying to do this together.

I love it, I do. It's much better this way BUT also...just...different. Take this Sunday morning, for example, when the alarm went off at 5:30. The night before I had insisted that we run in the morning. I'm a morning runner. It's what I do. It's cooler. And then it's just DONE and you don't have to worry about it for the rest of the day. (At this point, Billy says something like, "Bullshit, Ash. you just like to drink rum drinks on the beach on Sunday afternoons." Well, duh.) I'm getting off track - ANYWAY, Billy has no problem running in the afternoons. In fact, he would prefer to do our long runs on Sunday afternoons because 1) YOU CAN SLEEP IN ON A SUNDAY! (novel idea, eh?) and 2) well, there really is no other reason. So, when I got my way (which I usually do) and the alarm went off at 5:30 on Sunday so we could go run 10 miles, what do you think happened?

I told him to shut the damn thing off and that we would run later. I was tired! I had tossed and turned all night! I just DIDN'T FEEL LIKE IT, ALRIGHT?! He was displeased because he had opted against his second Steinlager Saturday night in preparation for our a.m. jaunt. Displeased though he was, I think he was tired at 5:30 too and just decided to roll with it. And we ran in the afternoon.

AND IT WAS GLORIOUS!!! No, really. Like, who knew running with your spouse for 8.6 miles at 6 pm on a Sunday evening could be so fantastic?! It was by far the best run both of us have had since we started. Totally amazing and wonderful run. And the BEST part?! There was still wine waiting for us when it was over ;)

So, the moral of the story is: Billy was right.

HAHAHAHAHA!!! No, no, no, no...that can't be it. It must be Compromise. Yes, that's the moral! (You see, because I decided on Sundays we could move our long run to the evening because he already does everything else my way because it is the most correct way)

**A Note**
I just read through this thing and realized it's basically all about balancing my wine schedule and my running schedule. We're such lushes.


Wine?


WINE!


(this was right after the marathon last year)





Hope you are having a lovely week! Happy Hour - I mean, Happy Runnning!

Run Pretty, Now!

Anyone get Runners World Magazine?

Anyone see this?



An entire cover story on frickin running in skirts - colorful ones! And tall socks! Frills and lace and ruching - oh my!

But...remember when I talked about running skirts here?

And when I talked about running pretty here and here?

THAT WAS LAST YEAR, RUNNER'S WORLD!!!

Pfffttt...I was so ahead of my time.

Chrome Wheeled, Fuel Injected & Steppin' Out Over The Line

If Pheidippides was alive today, he wouldn't have this problem.

Shoot, he didn't have this problem even when he was alive, because running from Marathon killed him. He didn't need to tell people about it afterwards. I suppose I don't really need to either but it would sure be fun, wouldn't it?

The last post I wrote was me whining in November. One month and ten days before M-Day. What happened after November 2, 2010? Welp, I quit whining and kept running. Billy came home, MuM and DadE came out to support me in my endeavors...and I finished the 2010 Honolulu Marathon in 3:54:56.* And then I got a tattoo to commemorate my tremendous feat.

And I swore, swore that I would never EVER do that to my body again. I can't remember pain worse than those last 6 miles. It jacked me up - mentally and physically. I took one whole month from running - and then another. I tried to run, and it still hurt. Friends of mine that had also run the marathon were back on their feet and happy as clams, and I couldn't run a 1/2 mile. So...I started going to physical therapy. After 2 different therapists and 4 months of being lazy and gaining weight (remember this? Today, I am right where I was. It must be my happy place), it was determined that my right hip was tilted incorrectly - a common ailment among female runners. It sucks, though. It took me 6 full months to recover from the marathon. Why on earth would I do that again?

Peer Pressure!

Or rather, coercing, conjoling, and persuading by my husband. He wants to run the marathon in December, and I guess misery loves company. Mostly, I think he just got me drunk and convinced me that running 26 miles again would be fun. Silly man. What are we thinking? We started last Thursday. We did a long run (which is 7.8 miles now) on Monday and were on the track - THE TRACK!!!! - yesterday.

As much as I'd like to deny it, it's happening again. And this nutter can't help but thinking in blog posts along the miles. Thoughts would show up like:

"Self! You could write about why you quit writing because it was just too much extra stuff to do and then you felt guilty about not doing it in so long and then the marathon was over and, and, and, you need to offer the people an explaination!"

"Self! You could write about how much better track work outs are with a buddy"

"Self! It would be so FUN!"

Tonight Billy is working, so I ran 30 minutes by myself. And at the very end of my run, the most amazing running song of all time came on my iPod shuffle. I started thinking about it. And how I could put a link to the song on the blog! And how awesome it would be! But then...I came home. I started thinking about how much extra work it would be to start again. So I said, "SELF!!! If you can fold all this laundry and still feel like you need to write, then you need to go write." Here I am.

Here's the song:


That's some motivational shit right there.

It might rip the bones from my back, be a death trap, a suicide rap...but baby, I was born to run.


*officially, my time was 4:00:08. Don't get me started. I stopped my watch for puking and nature stops so MY time wins. I usually don't tell people about being 8 seconds over 4 hours when they ask. But as always and ever, I'm all about full disclosure here