When I first began this blog post two weeks ago, it was titled something like, "A New Running Season." But then Mom had her second brain surgery in four months, and the running post became a post about a little bit of everything including running.
I think a lot about life in terms of seasons. H turned four last year, and I feel like it's a new season. All three children are now pretty independent, and it's not crazy to think, Hey, let's have a relaxing evening of games and quiet time. And maybe even some picking up the house where everybody pitches in. While I have good memories of snuggling my babies, I'm okay not being in that season anymore. That season of needy little humans that drain you dry. When I look back on that time of my life, there are gaps in my memory. Mainly during L Child's first year (C was 2) which were probably caused by exhaustion - both physically and emotionally.
There are also times in my life that the best thing to do is take a break. Rest and refuel. Say 'no' to requests and take care of myself. I think I got better at this after my miscarriage and the faith struggle that ensued afterwards. A season of grief can force you to step back and be quiet in life.
There are different seasons of friends. While there are the special friends that stay close, even across distances, I think that's a fewer number of all the friends one might have in her life. I've tended to not think in terms of 'losing friends,' but friendships ebb and flow. Sometimes you're close - maybe due to common circumstances like when I was in graduate school. I fondly think about the couple friends Josh and I made that were in the same time of life we were: early years of marriage, graduate studies or first jobs, and no children or just beginning a family. While we've stayed in contact with our friends and when we see them, we can easily pick up where we've left off, the miles don't allow us to babysit each other's children or hang out on Friday nights. I also think about the past best friends, and while we are more classified 'acquaintances' now, I'm thankful that I had those best friends during a past season of my life. Where would I be without the support and laughter from friends?
There are other types of seasons of life. I've been thinking about the current teacher walkout here in Oklahoma. After a decade of defunding public education, it's the season to stand up and demand adequate education and educator pay for our citizens (of course, I wish we had done it earlier, but it's definitely called for now). There's also the season of caring for parents. I'm thankful that Mom has had two successful brain surgeries and seems to be recovering the second time just as well as the first. Among the gratefulness, there's still extra time needed, stress, and fear, and that's why it's the season of saying 'no' where I can and relying on friends and family to manage.
And now I'm contemplating the season that began this blog post: my running. I look back wistfully on the fast season I had before my full marathon training. I can also remember the first time ever I ran five miles and how much that hurt (and how slow it was), and it's encouraging to see progress over seven years. I feel like my current season of running is slowly recovering from the slow-down (and weight gain) of marathon training. I've gotten to do a lot of races recently, and there's nothing like a race, to access your current fitness level. I was hoping to PR at the San Diego half marathon, but I was five minutes too slow. I discovered that I've got to figure out a way to do better hill training if I don't want non-Oklahoman-flat geography to affect me when I'm running elsewhere. Two weeks later, I paced a half marathon here in OKC for the Go Girl Run. It's a fun route through the downtown neighborhoods, and much smaller than the crazy huge OKC Memorial race. I had a fun time pacing, getting to run slower (I did the 2:30 pace group), and visiting with a new friend (my pace partner). Of course, while slower, the length of time got to my feet and hips. I ended up taking a week off from running, and I'm still showing TLC to my right hip. Pam and I did a 10K right before Mom's surgery, and I was able to run faster than I have in a long time. The speed work and miles I've been putting in this semester are paying off. I'm hoping I can cash in that hard work in a week at the OKC Memorial half. But as Pam says, "OKC is a crapshoot." And as last year taught me, I'll show up to run. I'm hoping this is the running season of PR.
But whatever the season is in life, I'll run with what I've got.
Showing posts with label running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label running. Show all posts
Sunday, April 22, 2018
Thursday, January 18, 2018
Winter Running...
...is pretty awful.
And I know I have it good living in the south. Our winters are short and mild compared to many other places. But I'm over winter running.
It's been colder here than usual, dipping way below freezing. There's been no snow or ice so that's helpful, but these temperatures still aren't conducive to running outside. I did a long run Saturday with the running group. Because there are over hundred people, it's usually lively along the route. Lots of conversations and laughing, but not Saturday. It seemed everybody felt like I did. Drudging along in silence. No stopping to drink water. Silently cursing the wind. Constant inner dialogue about why it's important to get the miles in. Realizing around mile four that I still hadn't warmed up. Then again at the end at mile eight. I felt pretty awful all weekend. I was dehydrated and cold and draggy. Some things I learned about that experience:
1. Even though I had on winter gear layers, it wasn't enough. I needed another layer (top and bottom) on when the temperature is single digits.
2. Even though I'm cold and don't want to drink, I need to drink water before, during, and after the run.
3. All that to say, I probably won't run in temperatures (single digits with wind chill) again. It was too hard on my body.
Because winter running is pretty awful, it's good that New Year Resolutions are smack dab in the middle of winter. My big goal for the year is to get faster. I want to be able to consistently run a sub-two-hour half marathon, but that's going to take weekly mileage goals and regular speed work. My fast friend recommended some speed work on the treadmill since it's so cold and windy outside. Treadmill speed work was surprisingly really helpful. I run faster and do more reps since the treadmill can be set on a speed inside a warmer environment on a flat surface. Last week, I ran twelve 200s with them separated into two groups. I'd sprint a 200 m distance, walk for maybe 20 seconds, then sprint again. After four sets of 200s, I walked for a couple of minutes or so and drank some water. Then repeated another set of 200s with little breaks in between each one. With a warm up run and cool down, it wasn't a bad work out. This week I did ten sets of 150s, sprinting faster than last week. I broke it up in a similar fashion, but I managed to jog on all the short recovery periods. Treadmill speed work can build confidence, too. I didn't know I could run so fast until I saw the speed on the machine. It pushed me more than when I'm running with my Garmin by myself.
Sabbatical running is counterbalancing this awful winter running. My schedule is more flexible so I'm managing to run with people more often during the week. I'm more motivated and faster if I can run with somebody.
Hopefully, there's only a few more weeks of this winter running.
And I know I have it good living in the south. Our winters are short and mild compared to many other places. But I'm over winter running.
It's been colder here than usual, dipping way below freezing. There's been no snow or ice so that's helpful, but these temperatures still aren't conducive to running outside. I did a long run Saturday with the running group. Because there are over hundred people, it's usually lively along the route. Lots of conversations and laughing, but not Saturday. It seemed everybody felt like I did. Drudging along in silence. No stopping to drink water. Silently cursing the wind. Constant inner dialogue about why it's important to get the miles in. Realizing around mile four that I still hadn't warmed up. Then again at the end at mile eight. I felt pretty awful all weekend. I was dehydrated and cold and draggy. Some things I learned about that experience:
1. Even though I had on winter gear layers, it wasn't enough. I needed another layer (top and bottom) on when the temperature is single digits.
2. Even though I'm cold and don't want to drink, I need to drink water before, during, and after the run.
3. All that to say, I probably won't run in temperatures (single digits with wind chill) again. It was too hard on my body.
Because winter running is pretty awful, it's good that New Year Resolutions are smack dab in the middle of winter. My big goal for the year is to get faster. I want to be able to consistently run a sub-two-hour half marathon, but that's going to take weekly mileage goals and regular speed work. My fast friend recommended some speed work on the treadmill since it's so cold and windy outside. Treadmill speed work was surprisingly really helpful. I run faster and do more reps since the treadmill can be set on a speed inside a warmer environment on a flat surface. Last week, I ran twelve 200s with them separated into two groups. I'd sprint a 200 m distance, walk for maybe 20 seconds, then sprint again. After four sets of 200s, I walked for a couple of minutes or so and drank some water. Then repeated another set of 200s with little breaks in between each one. With a warm up run and cool down, it wasn't a bad work out. This week I did ten sets of 150s, sprinting faster than last week. I broke it up in a similar fashion, but I managed to jog on all the short recovery periods. Treadmill speed work can build confidence, too. I didn't know I could run so fast until I saw the speed on the machine. It pushed me more than when I'm running with my Garmin by myself.
Sabbatical running is counterbalancing this awful winter running. My schedule is more flexible so I'm managing to run with people more often during the week. I'm more motivated and faster if I can run with somebody.
Hopefully, there's only a few more weeks of this winter running.
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
After the Marathon
Being on the other side of my second full marathon, I've learned a few more things about running. The OKC Memorial Marathon was a rough race for me.
I started crying after I finished. Not because of the glorious full marathon feels, but because I was so unhappy with my time (5:18 compared to my 4:35 in the fall). After I got over it though, I made sure to stop and pose with my medal.
Here are some things I've thought about since April:
I started crying after I finished. Not because of the glorious full marathon feels, but because I was so unhappy with my time (5:18 compared to my 4:35 in the fall). After I got over it though, I made sure to stop and pose with my medal.
 |
| I'm happy because I'm no longer running. |
1. Training through the winter and spring was not my favorite.
When I was first thinking about training for a full, running friends advised me to NOT run the OKC marathon for my first full. They told me that training through the winter and spring is difficult. I'm really glad that my first full was in October. Training through summer and fall was much easier.
I did use a different training format this time, and I liked it better. While I still had weekly mileage goals, I ran less days and implemented more cross training. I ran 1-2 times a week, did speed work once a week, and had a long run once a week. I focused on strength training the other days.
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| Icy bridge on the route |
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| Winter run |
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| Typical stormy Oklahoma skies |
2. I had a lot of rough runs this training round.
Long runs proved to be super challenging for me. Since last summer, with the distance increasing every couple of weeks, I got slower. I missed some long runs this past training season due to sickness in the house (the kids or me). Running highs were rare. I had a foot injury. All of this led to...
Long runs proved to be super challenging for me. Since last summer, with the distance increasing every couple of weeks, I got slower. I missed some long runs this past training season due to sickness in the house (the kids or me). Running highs were rare. I had a foot injury. All of this led to...
3. Rough running season = rough race.
If you run slow during training, you're gonna run slow on race day. If you have to walk parts of long runs, you'll have to walk during the race some. Go figure, right?
I thought the OKC course was more difficult than the Wichita course, too. Besides the lake, the hardest stretch is around miles 20-23 where it's a straight shot on Classen Boulevard. By this point, it was hot and windy at times, and the end, or even a turn, is nowhere in sight. I was glad to get off Classen and into the Historic District.
If you run slow during training, you're gonna run slow on race day. If you have to walk parts of long runs, you'll have to walk during the race some. Go figure, right?
I thought the OKC course was more difficult than the Wichita course, too. Besides the lake, the hardest stretch is around miles 20-23 where it's a straight shot on Classen Boulevard. By this point, it was hot and windy at times, and the end, or even a turn, is nowhere in sight. I was glad to get off Classen and into the Historic District.
4. Spectators and support help.
I already knew that (any runner who has done a race knows this), but it was very apparent to me in OKC. This race has such a good turnout from the community. Years after the tragedy, the city remembers and honors the lives lost, but also celebrates the resilience of the city and accomplishments of the runners. It's a touching thing to be a part of every year in any capacity.
I did pretty well the first half or so. The first half is the most exciting for this marathon. Lots of spectators and the excitement of the crowd carries you to Lake Hefner (about halfway).
I got to see my parents and kids around mile 11. High fives and hugs gave me some energy.
Then I hit that wretched lake. I had been warned, and I've ran that lake, but experiencing it on race day after 14 miles was a different story. It was raining while I was on part of the lake path, and the wind was blowing so hard, it was blowing lake waves to the path. I was deeply impressed with the volunteers along the lake route. They were soaked and still cheered the runners on. I kept telling myself to just clear the lake, and then I'll worry about the next part. As soon as I cleared mile 17, I was walking and hurting. I called Josh. He asked me, "Do you need me to pick you up?" I replied, "Nope. I'm gonna get this done, but I just needed to tell someone how truly awful I feel right now." He had done the full marathon five years prior and remembered the lake. He also knew I had been sick (see #5 below).
What got me through Nichols Hills and back downtown were the spectators cheering me on. The crowds were sparse by this point, but any time I reached some, it helped. I remember these two teenage girls in Nichols Hills cheering me on around mile 19. I must've looked bad because they yelled at me for awhile to keep going.
Then Jaryn and Tasha surprised me around mile 21 and again about a mile later. Tasha ran with me for a bit talking to me. Their encouragement helped distract me from the pain and reassured me that I could finish.
Finally, I knew I had friends and family (close and across the miles) tracking me online and cheering me on. That support carried me to the finish. After the race, I read the texts and emails sent to me while I was running. I was touched at the care and support people offer.
5. Getting sick a week before a race sucks.
I got the flu (or some awful similar virus) and was in bed several days the week before the marathon. I ached a lot more during the race than I ever had before during runs, but I'm glad I decided to run the full.
And while the training was rough, the training DID get me to the finish. I wouldn't have been able to finish the marathon without the training. That's for sure.
I already knew that (any runner who has done a race knows this), but it was very apparent to me in OKC. This race has such a good turnout from the community. Years after the tragedy, the city remembers and honors the lives lost, but also celebrates the resilience of the city and accomplishments of the runners. It's a touching thing to be a part of every year in any capacity.
I did pretty well the first half or so. The first half is the most exciting for this marathon. Lots of spectators and the excitement of the crowd carries you to Lake Hefner (about halfway).
I got to see my parents and kids around mile 11. High fives and hugs gave me some energy.
Then I hit that wretched lake. I had been warned, and I've ran that lake, but experiencing it on race day after 14 miles was a different story. It was raining while I was on part of the lake path, and the wind was blowing so hard, it was blowing lake waves to the path. I was deeply impressed with the volunteers along the lake route. They were soaked and still cheered the runners on. I kept telling myself to just clear the lake, and then I'll worry about the next part. As soon as I cleared mile 17, I was walking and hurting. I called Josh. He asked me, "Do you need me to pick you up?" I replied, "Nope. I'm gonna get this done, but I just needed to tell someone how truly awful I feel right now." He had done the full marathon five years prior and remembered the lake. He also knew I had been sick (see #5 below).
What got me through Nichols Hills and back downtown were the spectators cheering me on. The crowds were sparse by this point, but any time I reached some, it helped. I remember these two teenage girls in Nichols Hills cheering me on around mile 19. I must've looked bad because they yelled at me for awhile to keep going.
Then Jaryn and Tasha surprised me around mile 21 and again about a mile later. Tasha ran with me for a bit talking to me. Their encouragement helped distract me from the pain and reassured me that I could finish.
Finally, I knew I had friends and family (close and across the miles) tracking me online and cheering me on. That support carried me to the finish. After the race, I read the texts and emails sent to me while I was running. I was touched at the care and support people offer.
5. Getting sick a week before a race sucks.
I got the flu (or some awful similar virus) and was in bed several days the week before the marathon. I ached a lot more during the race than I ever had before during runs, but I'm glad I decided to run the full.
And while the training was rough, the training DID get me to the finish. I wouldn't have been able to finish the marathon without the training. That's for sure.
6. I need to be in better shape next full marathon training season.
A little more lean and faster. That'll be my next post - how I'm going to get there.
So while my second marathon was rough, I'll probably do another one some day. I'm pretty sure I'll attempt the OKC full again. I've convinced myself that running through the neighborhoods of my city is fun. And I really want to beat my time.
A little more lean and faster. That'll be my next post - how I'm going to get there.
So while my second marathon was rough, I'll probably do another one some day. I'm pretty sure I'll attempt the OKC full again. I've convinced myself that running through the neighborhoods of my city is fun. And I really want to beat my time.
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