Running the Pig: The Squeakel

"I look into the window of my mind,

Reflections of the fears I know I've left behind

I step out of the ordinary

I can feel my soul ascending

I am on my way

Can't stop me now..."

-Proud, Heather Small

A lot of people run a marathon just to be able to say they've done it, they cross it off the bucket list, and move on with their lives. I'm apparently not one of those people.

I've never had a baby, but I would imagine that training for and completing a marathon is a similar experience. (I have a friend who HAS done both, and she says childbirth is easier, ha!) I think it's like having a baby because when you cross that finish line, you are so overwhelmed with joy and a sense of accomplishment that you forget the months of pain and sacrifice that went into making it happen. Then when you consider doing it again, you remember that pain and sacrifice, but decide that it's all worth it because of what you got out of the experience. And the fact is, I love the person that I become when I'm training. I'm focused, I'm disciplined, I'm determined. So for all of these reasons, I decided to run the Flying Pig again this year. Here's how it's been going so far:

The Running
I had several options for training groups this year since Meters & Miles closed last summer (frowny-face). While my old M&M pals formed their own group, I decided my training could benefit from joining the most organized group in town. We're two weeks into the program and I'm loving the Running Spot group. So far, they've offered a lot of support and great advice. I tweaked the schedule a little bit since I plan to run 5-6 days a week, and their schedule only calls for 4. I also switched around the mileage for different days to accommodate my cross-training. But, overall, it's a great training plan.

The Gym
I did a pretty good job throughout last summer in terms of keeping in shape since I was training for the Dayton half marathon in September. After the race, between moving and the holidays, I wasn't hitting the gym or the pavement as often and about 15 pounds found their way back on. One of the best things about deciding to run a marathon again is that I'm forced to hold myself accountable for slacking off these past few months. As I start training, I fully intend to be carrying at least 15 less pounds up Gilbert Avenue in May. So, that means hitting the gym.

I wanted to join a gym that is closer to my new home, so I signed up at Five Seasons in Crestview Hills, which is less than 2 miles away from my condo. While it was very convenient and a lot nicer than Fitworks, the group fitness classes just didn't do it for me. They didn't have the structure that the Fitworks classes have; it was almost as if the instructors were making up the moves as they went along. The music wasn't carefully synchronized with the exercises the way Fitworks classes are; the music was just kind of "on" in the background. And the Pilates class was coordinated to that dreadful ping-pingy Chinese music. Ugh. Boring and awful. So I broke up with Five Seasons after 11 days and went skulking back to Fitworks. They accepted me back with open arms (as long as I promised to never leave them again). They now feel confident in our relationship since I am contractually committed to them for at least the next 15 months. (Our relationship auto-renews after that.)

So, from now until April, I'm back to 3-4 classes per week at Fitworks: Mondays and/or Wednesdays Group Power (strength training) and Centergy (yoga/pilates), Tuesdays Abs, and on Thursdays...my new favorite thing in the world... ZUMBA! I went to my first Zumba class last night and it was just awesome. For those who aren't in the know, Zumba is a latin dance-inspired aerobics class. I wasn't sure that lining up in the front row for my first class was such a smart move, but with my dance background, I picked up the moves quickly and enjoyed the class thoroughly. I love, love, love Zumba.

I know my schedule seems like a lot, and some may consider it "overtraining," but I ran a great race last year with the same schedule, so I'm not going to fix what isn't broken. My hope is to run a faster race than last year, but I'm not going to get too crazy. I'm not trying to win the thing. If I can run it 10-20 minutes faster, I'll be thrilled. If I can't, I'll still be happy I finished.

I am going to continue to blog my experience again this year, since it was really helpful to me to think out and write out my feelings during training last year. I also hope it will be a fun read for all of my runner and non-runner friends alike. Enjoy!

I'm not all about excuses...

...but I have a lot of them. The Dayton Marathon last Saturday was a disaster. Here's how it all went down:

Friday night, Matt and I drove up to Dayton from his house in Fairfield to get my race packet at the Nutter Center. We sat in traffic on Col Glenn Highway for about 45 minutes because of rush hour traffic and because the 5K race was going on at the same time and in the same location as packet pickup. So, we finally got there, got the packet, then headed back to the car. They weren't letting any cars out of the parking lot because they blocked off the road for the 5K. Seriously? The race planners didn't foresee this as a problem?

After finally getting out of the parking lot and getting some dinner and rest, I was up and ready to go Saturday morning for the race. Matt and I planned to leave by 6:30 for the 8:30 race, giving plenty of time for the 45 minute drive back up to Dayton and barring any traffic. What we hadn't planned for was spending an hour in the car on the expressway on-ramp with hundreds of other racers who appeared to be just as frustrated as me. Couldn't they have planned better for this? Perhaps a couple of crossing guards? I'm sure there was some way to move the traffic along a little better...

We finally got off the ramp and headed toward the parking lot, at about 8:15. The directions on the map were wrong, so we spent an extra 10 minutes confused and backtracking. If you're going to include maps in the race packet, maybe it would be a good idea to make sure the map is accurate? Just a suggestion. So, we finally get out of the car and onto a shuttle bus which is to carry us to the start line. Actually it turned out to be about a 1/2 mile from the start line. While some people got out of the bus and chose to run to the start line to make it by the gun, I chose to walk. I figure I am going to be running 13 miles, there's really no need to add another 0.5.

I felt pretty good through the first 6-7 miles. However, the scenery at the Air Force base left much to be desired. I was hoping we'd be running along the flight path and get to see some planes land, or see some of the historic sights of Wright-Patt. Um, no. We ran past a meadow, through a parking lot, and onto a freeway on ramp. Booo-ring. While I felt good and was on a good pace, at about mile 9 I started feeling it. I was ready for the one big hill at the beginning of the race, and tackled it with no problem, but the hills in miles 9-11 did me in. I ran the first one completely, but I had to walk the second two. I walked a little of the flat parts too, and by mile 12 I was doing more walking than running. My split time for the Pig in May was 2:21 and I came in a full 10 minutes after at 2:31 for this race. Disappointing to say the least. But at least I finished.

After the race, all I wanted to do was get back to the car and get home. Unfortunately, the entire race field was thinking the same thing, and the line for the shuttles back to the parking was hundreds of people deep. Rather than wait an hour for the shuttle, we decided to walk the 2 miles back to the car. Thanks a lot Dayton Marathon, great job of planning. Let's just say I won't be signing up again next year.

13, 29 and My Achilles Heel

It wasn't very long ago that 13 meant halfway. 13 miles was easy... a "short" long run. In training for the Dayton half marathon next weekend, I've had to redefine 13 miles again. I had a great 12-mile run a few weeks ago, but since then, training has been brutal. Somewhere, somehow in the past month, I strained my right achilles tendon and last week's final 13 mile run before the race ended up being only 11 miles and 2 miles of walking. Furthermore, I haven't been hitting the gym as much or as hard as I should. Partly, the achilles injury has been an easy excuse for not having the kind of dedication I usually do, but what it really comes down to is that I'm distracted.

The reason for my distraction is the monumental task of moving. I hate moving. I mean I really, really hate moving. But, I'm also excited because I love the new condo I just purchased and am soon going to be enjoying the benefits of home ownership. I will be closing in about two weeks, and I don't even know where to begin with packing. I just don't know how an individual is capable of accumulating so much crap.

I'm trying not to focus on the actual move since it overwhelms me, and so I choose to instead focus more on how much I'll enjoy living in my new place. My new address number is 2909, and while that didn't mean anything to me when I put in my bid, it was later pointed out to me that it is a fitting number, given that my birthday is 09/29. So cool! And I will be closing on or about 9/29 to boot! What a great birthday present, huh?

Getting out of my apartment full of (currently empty) moving boxes and out on the open road at Wright-Patt next Saturday will be a refreshing break. I had hoped to be in a better place with my running right now. I wanted to run this half marathon faster than my Pig split time, but I just haven't been able to get my speed back to where it was pre-Pig. While it would be easy to get discouraged about my speed (and my injury), I am still keeping up the distance. Just the fact that I can physically go out and run 13 miles is still an accomplishment, and is amazing considering where I came from. I'll be 33 years old on 09/29, and this birthday reminds me of the goal I set for myself on my 30th birthday to lose 100 pounds and get healthy. Three years later, I'm continuing to maintain my weight loss. I may not be running nine-minute miles like I hoped I would, but at least I'm still out there every weekend pounding the pavement. And for now, in the whirlwind of all my distractions, that is good enough for me.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

I haven't felt this way in a long time. When I was 22, my dad retired from GE and sold the house in Anderson that I grew up in. I graduated from college and got an actual 8-5 day job where I didn't have to punch a time clock and had health insurance. I rented a cute little 1-bedroom apartment in Ft. Thomas, bought my own furniture and decorated my new space. My parents, whom I never thought of as "old," bought a condo and started spending their winters in Florida. I earned a master's degree, lost a job, and moved back in with my parents, whom I realized were officially old. I woke every morning during my early 20s and felt the earth spinning out of control as the days passed more quickly than I could handle. My life was changing, fast.

After a few years of what seemed like constant change, I settled into my life, and the earth's rotation slowed down enough for me to enjoy it. I got a good job, rented an apartment with two bedrooms, found the love of my life, lost the love of my life, got a promotion, rented an even better apartment, lost 100 pounds, found another love of my life, lost love again, and ran a marathon. For some reason, those big changes didn't seem so big. Through all those experiences, I felt sturdy, grounded and in full control of my decisions.

****

Last week, I bought new running shoes. Such a minor thing, I know, but it set off something inside me that I didn't know was there. I'm not running in the shoes that I ran my first marathon in anymore. I'm keeping my old pair, of course, as a memento of my accomplishment, but they've been retired. The chapter of my life involving my first pair of Adidas Supernovas has come and gone, and that makes me sad. But, as I inspected the new pair yesterday, I considered the possible stories their journey would tell. Where would these shoes go? How many times would I run up the hill on Gilbert in these? Would I slosh through a pop-up rain shower in them? How fast could I go in them? As I wondered what was ahead for my new shoes, and looked at those clean, springy new Supernovas, I realized that I wasn't just thinking about shoes.

I learned this week that Meters & Miles is being sold, and will soon turn into a Running Spot. I'm so sad that I will be losing the place (and the people) that helped me acheive one of the greatest accomplishments of my life. On the other hand, I'm looking forward to seeing how it all turns out, and to the new opportunities and different experiences I may have when the store changes hands.

Outside of my running life, too, changes are all around me. My brother Nick is getting married and moving to a new house waaaay out in Milford. I see my friends, too, moving in with significant others, getting married, buying homes and having kids. When did they all grow up? I'm changing too. The fun party girl who wouldn't dream of missing a CSL happy hour is somehow content with spending most Friday nights carb-loading and resting up for long Saturday runs. I'm not using my credit card anymore, and am developing into a responsible spender (thanks in part to a new boyfriend who has pointed out the foolishness of financing a round of shots at the bar). And, this is the biggie-- I'm finally planning on making a long-term life change by buying a condo. I won't have a kick-ass city view anymore, but I will have 8,000 more dollars in my pocket thanks to the first-time homebuyers credit. It's responsible. But it's a big commitment that's scary, stressful, and I don't know how it will all turn out. For the first time in a long time, I'm taking big risks. The world is spinning fast again, and there's nothing else to do but hold on tight and enjoy the ride.

I'm back!

It's been so long since I've blogged, I'm not really sure where to start. So, here goes...

I pretty much still don't understand how three months ago, I ran 26.2 miles and now it takes everything out of me just to get up to running double-digit mileage. I started 3 weeks ago by planning to run 10 miles and I decided the best place to "get my feet wet" again was Lunken Aiport. Lunken has a lot of benefits for 10-mile runs: 1.) It's flat, flat, flat, 2.) It's a 5-mile loop so if you park in the middle, you can re-hydrate halfway through and 3.) Further to point #2, if you don't think you can run the whole 10, you can bail out and just run 5 (but feel like you suck). So, a few Sundays ago, I went out there and got down to business. I got through 5 miles fairly easily, and eked out the last 5 with some difficulty, but it wasn't too, too bad and boosted my confidence quite a bit, since I hadn't run that far since the marathon in May.

Once I had the first 10-miler under my belt, I felt confident enough to go run 9 miles with my Meters & Miles group the following Saturday. I did everything right -- had a good high-carb dinner, rested my legs Friday, and got to bed early. When I woke up at 6:00 a.m., it was pouring rain and I heard rumbles of thunder and flashes of lightening. "Okay," I thought, "We're probably not meeting for the run." I turned off my alarm and rolled over and went back to sleep. About a half hour later, nature called, so I got up and looked out the window. It was like I woke up on a completely different day! There was no rain, and the sky was only partly cloudy. I checked out weather.com, and it verified that the rain had passed temporarily and wouldn't start again until after noon.

I hemmed and hawed about what to do. I wanted to run because I had planned to run and prepared well for it, the weather was great (especially for mid-July) and I was ready to go. After screwing around for 45 minutes on Map My Run looking for a decent 9 or 10 mile route, I reluctantly chose to head back to Lunken. In doing so, I also made a promise to myself to try to be more adventurous in trying out new routes in the future.

I wanted to change things up a little from the previous week as not to get bored, so when I got to Lunken I parked at the airport instead of at the beginning of the trail on Wilmer. I almost decided to run the loop counter-clockwise to mix it up even more, but I decided not to get too crazy. I fed the parking meter (which I'm not sure you even have to do there on Saturdays, but best to err on the side of caution, I figured) and off I went. The first 5 miles were fairly easy again, but once I got back to my car for loop 2, I saw an ominous black sky in the distance. I decided to go for it anyway... maybe I could outrun it?

As you may have already guess, it turns out I couldn't run faster than the giant cloud of doom (though it certainly caused me to pick up the pace quite a bit) and at 7 and 1/2 miles in, the rain started to drip-drip. By mile 8, I was running through a torrential downpour. I honestly felt like I was in the middle of a hurricane. Stupid weather.com and it's innacurate forecast.

One other cute sidenote from my run in the rain... As soon as the rain started falling, I had to laugh at my iPod Shuffle's sense of irony. Despite being on the "random" setting, this song came on. Jamming out to Superchick and sloshing my way back to my car, it occured to me that I should have been miserable right then. I wasn't -- I loved every splishy-splashy second of it. It reminded me of just how much I love running.

With renewed energy after my second Lunken run, I made a plan to run 14 miles with my group last Saturday. If you're thinking that stepping up from 10 to 14 miles in one week is too ambitious, you are correct. Despite my best effort, I only got through 11 1/2 of the 14 (and the last mile was torture). Luckily, Bill from our group (the "waterboy" for this run) was able to drive me back to my car so that I didn't have to walk the last 2 1/2 miles. (This is one of the perks of running with a group.) I felt a little defeated after not making the whole 14, but seeing as I'm not actually training for a full marathon, and the half marathon I am doing isn't for another month and a half, I feel really good about my progress.

I do not, however, feel good about how much ice cream I've been eating lately. Luckily I am back to running enough to counteract the effects of all the turtle sundaes, but jeez... I really have a problem.

My triumphant return to group running

A few of the many, many excuses I've had for not running with my Meters & Miles group for the last 4-5 Saturdays are: 1.) Too hot, 2.) Too early, and 3.) Don't feel like it.

Emerging from my post-marathon funk hasn't been quick or easy. I've gotten back up to running 8 miles, but that doesn't really count because it was on a treadmill. I've only run outside a handful of times outdoors since May and they've been short runs.

This weekend we didn't have a group run on Saturday due to the Fourth, so instead M&M scheduled 7-mile group runs on both Friday and Sunday mornings. Surely I could make one (or both) of those?

Well...Friday didn't happen. 7 a.m. came and went as I was delightfully snoozing away. After being a little mad at myself for being lazy, I opted to run at my parents' house at about noontime. My parents live smack dab in the middle of Oakbrook, which has a great 2 1/2 mile walking path along the main road. The terrain is fairly flat, but has one monster hill in the middle, and a couple of other little ones here and there. If I run it from my parents condo in the middle, then out to Oakbrook Drive, and run from one end to the other and back, it's just under 5 and 1/2 miles. Although it would have been a little cooler earlier (if I had been able to wake up and get motivated), the weather was pleasant at noon and there was a nice breeze. I did the run in just under an hour. I know I've done it faster, but I'm giving myself a grade of "not too shabby" for the first stab at it in a while.

After lots of food, drinks and fireworks on Saturday, I went to bed early to attempt to make it to the 8 a.m. group run. Despite a restless night of sleep, I was actually able to wake up in time to head down to Newport to Meters & Miles for the 7-miler. The weather was perfect -- 60s with a little misty rain. Upon arriving, it became clear that I was going to be the slowest in the group (by far) and I was also the only skirt. Me and my entourage of dudes planned to run the floodwall route through Newport, Bellevue and Dayton. The route being very flat, along with the weather, made it easier to push myself to go a little faster than normal. My pace was 10:23, so I finally am getting back to my pre-marathon speed.

I'm giving myself a grade of "pretty good" for Sunday, and am looking forward to improving more over the summer for the group runs... that is, assuming I can actually motivate myself to go.

Reading Recap and Multiple Illnesses

It all started with the tots.

Friday night I was planning on taking it easy since I wanted to get to bed early and do well at the KCPL Racing to Read 5K on Saturday morning. My friend Jenn invited me to a happy hour on Friday evening that seemed right up the "taking it easy" alley. Her boyfriend Shane, who is the reigning 2009 Cincinnati Tater Tot Eating Champion, was granted an all-you-can-eat tot party for 20 of his closest friends by Bar Louie (who sponsored the tot-eating contest) as part of his victory spoils. So at 5 p.m., I was at Bar Louie and hungry for tots.

I'm not sure whether it was the tots, too many Blue Moons, or some of the crap I ate later that evening, but by about midnight, I felt not-so-great. After a few hours of bellyache followed by a violent exorcism of evil from my digestive tract, I got some sleep and was feeling bright and chipper by morning.

My brother Nick called me at about 8. He had made a last-minute decision to come run the 5K with me. Despite the previous evening's illness, the run went well. My goal is to get my 5K time under 30 minutes this summer, and so coming in at 30:35 was not too shabby for the first try. I was impressed that my brother (who is a great athlete but not a runner) was able to keep up with me through the whole race.

After the race, we gobbled up our free pancakes from First Watch, and I headed home to get showered and changed for football. Football was exhausting after the race, but the rest of the weekend was a lot of fun. Matt and I took the Gangsters, Gamblers, and Girls tour of Newport Saturday night, and it was really interesting and entertaining. So much history; it was just fascinating. They are going to be running the tour again in the fall, and I highly recommend checking it out.

Monday night I got through a mile on the treadmill before feeling crampy. Something was definitely wrong. I had a restless night of sleep, then woke up feeling worse Tuesday. After about an hour at the office, it became apparent that whatever it was wasn't going away. I took the rest of the day off, and spent most of it hugging porcelain. By mid-afternoon, I was feeling a little better and gingerly sipped down a vanilla milkshake. Things got better from there. Today, I am back to about 99%.

I'm pretty sure I've narrowed down the possible causes of my second illness to some mediterranean rice and bean salad that I ate Monday afternoon. I got it off the olive bar at Kroger. I guess the fact that there is a sneeze-guard on those things should have sent up a red flag... ugh.

So, two lessons learned: 1.) No more food from anything under a sneeze guard and 2.) Tots should be eaten in moderation.