Less than a week to go to the half mary. I did 4 miles this morning; the weather was very nice for a run and the forecast indicates cool and comfortable for race day. I don't know why I'm so nervous about the race. I think I'm prepared physically, at least if I'm not there's not much I can do about that now. So I decided to do the same thing I used to do at work when I was nervous about some big project I had to complete-fantasize about the absolute worst, most disastrous thing that could possibly happen and carry it as far out as possible. So here is my race day disaster scenario:
I arrive late for the race, and barely get my bib pinned on before the gun goes off. At about this point my shoes decide they've had enough and they reach critical mass, mileage wise and my legs start to ache at the 1 mile marker. I start doing a run/walk thing. My legs are still hurting and now my lungs and heart give out. I keep walking. 7 hours later, I make it to the finish line on my hands and knees. The few people left at the finish line are laughing and pointing at me. Hubby left hours ago in disgust and now I have to walk home.
I get a phone call that night from the secret running police. They tell me that my performance was so horrific that I've been permanently banned for life from running and racing. My name has been put on the "do not run" list. When I try to buy a new pair of shoes, my friendly neighborhood running store tells me they aren't allowed to sell me anything. I have to sneak into Cuba to buy running shoes.
I go out for a run on my usual course, and men with little wires in their ears tackle me and force me off the road. They tell me that if I try to run again, I'll be sent to a secret camp in Wyoming where they incarcerate offensive runners, as well as people who think they can sing but really can't.
Ok, I feel much better now.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
New picture!
Last night I did an easy 3 miler on the dreadmill. We spent the day running around doing errands, and I didn't get to my run until about 7 pm. But, that's why I bought the treadmill, so I could run when I dam well pleased. I'm never going to like the treadmill, but I may learn to tolerate it better. The neat thing was I watched the Olympic trials for track and field while I was running-that was kinda cool!
You've probably noticed I changed my picture. That's me with my Bugeye, Pugsley. Yes, I name my cars; it's kind of a girl thing and I've always done it, much to Hubby's embarrassment.
I've had Pugsley for about 7 years now. I've wanted one ever since I was kid. The first ride I had in a topless car was in my uncle's Bugeye, when I was 8 years old. I remember thinking that it was a brilliant idea to take the top off a car. Pugsley was pretty much a derelict when we bought him; the previous owners told us he hadn't run in 20 years and the engine was probably frozen. Hubby reached in the engine compartment and turned the pulley; when I saw it turn pretty easily I thought, hmm, that's a very good sign that the engine isn't frozen, that the pistons are moving as they should...so we bought it. Hubby had it running within half an hour of bringing it home. Not only did the engine run, but it ran rather well for a car that had been sitting for so long. A little mechanical tweaking, a paint job and some new upholstery, and voila! We have the car you see in the picture.
When I bought Pugsley I was at the heaviest weight I had ever been in my life. Pugsley is a very tiny car and it was extremely uncomfortable for me to drive him-the steering wheel barely cleared my gut. He's a lot more fun now that I've attained my current svelte physique, and he's one of the reasons I intend to stay slender.
You've probably noticed I changed my picture. That's me with my Bugeye, Pugsley. Yes, I name my cars; it's kind of a girl thing and I've always done it, much to Hubby's embarrassment.
I've had Pugsley for about 7 years now. I've wanted one ever since I was kid. The first ride I had in a topless car was in my uncle's Bugeye, when I was 8 years old. I remember thinking that it was a brilliant idea to take the top off a car. Pugsley was pretty much a derelict when we bought him; the previous owners told us he hadn't run in 20 years and the engine was probably frozen. Hubby reached in the engine compartment and turned the pulley; when I saw it turn pretty easily I thought, hmm, that's a very good sign that the engine isn't frozen, that the pistons are moving as they should...so we bought it. Hubby had it running within half an hour of bringing it home. Not only did the engine run, but it ran rather well for a car that had been sitting for so long. A little mechanical tweaking, a paint job and some new upholstery, and voila! We have the car you see in the picture.
When I bought Pugsley I was at the heaviest weight I had ever been in my life. Pugsley is a very tiny car and it was extremely uncomfortable for me to drive him-the steering wheel barely cleared my gut. He's a lot more fun now that I've attained my current svelte physique, and he's one of the reasons I intend to stay slender.
Friday, June 27, 2008
5 miles
Today was an easy 5 miler, I think I have one more 5 miler before the race and every thing else is a pretty short distance. So my goal is easy runs, lots of rest, and NO high heels until after the race!
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Shooting and running
Today was a rest day, so no miles to post. We went to San Luis Obispo for the day, and foolish, vain woman that I am, I chose to wear heels. My feet are killing me and I have a big blister on my heel. But the shoes are so cute and they look fantastic with jeans. This is very out of character for me, I usually go for comfort rather than style.
I recently went shooting, something I love almost as much as I love running. It's probably the most relaxing thing I do, and a good day of shooting has an almost zen quality. When you are target shooting, you are forced to let go of everything in your mind except the task at hand. It's simply about you, the gun, and the target. You have to listen carefully to your breathing, and try to squeeze the trigger between breathes; and yet you have to be careful not to hold your breath. You must be aware of the wind, especially when you shoot a 22 as I do. Pull the trigger when a gust of wind comes up and your shot goes awry. And when you do well, and every shot goes exactly where you want it to go, it's magic! It's a lot like a really good run..
I recently went shooting, something I love almost as much as I love running. It's probably the most relaxing thing I do, and a good day of shooting has an almost zen quality. When you are target shooting, you are forced to let go of everything in your mind except the task at hand. It's simply about you, the gun, and the target. You have to listen carefully to your breathing, and try to squeeze the trigger between breathes; and yet you have to be careful not to hold your breath. You must be aware of the wind, especially when you shoot a 22 as I do. Pull the trigger when a gust of wind comes up and your shot goes awry. And when you do well, and every shot goes exactly where you want it to go, it's magic! It's a lot like a really good run..
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Another tempo run
I did a 45 minute tempo run today, and it wasn't too bad, with a 9:30 pace. I've noticed something interesting with tempo runs and intervals-my legs feel fine; it's my lungs that complain a bit about the pace. Could it be possible that my leg muscles have finally caught up with my heart and lungs, and the speed work is making me work harder, cardio-wise?
We saw Get Smart this afternoon. Not a bad movie, but I think it would be less entertaining if you weren't familiar with the old series. Like Sex and the City, there's a lot of inside jokes that are just funnier if you remember them from the old show. They did have the little sports car from the series in the movie, a Sunbeam Tiger. It's actually a pretty nifty sports car and one I wouldn't mind having in my garage. And there was also a Ferrari (I didn't get a good enough look at it to tell what model except I know it wasn't a Testa Rossa) and a nice little VW Karmaan Ghia. My apologies if I misspelt that...
We saw Get Smart this afternoon. Not a bad movie, but I think it would be less entertaining if you weren't familiar with the old series. Like Sex and the City, there's a lot of inside jokes that are just funnier if you remember them from the old show. They did have the little sports car from the series in the movie, a Sunbeam Tiger. It's actually a pretty nifty sports car and one I wouldn't mind having in my garage. And there was also a Ferrari (I didn't get a good enough look at it to tell what model except I know it wasn't a Testa Rossa) and a nice little VW Karmaan Ghia. My apologies if I misspelt that...
Monday, June 23, 2008
Target practice
I ran a basic 30 min. tempo run today, with an average pace of 9:30; pretty fast for me. I was pleased with it and now I enter the dreaded taper phase. I hate this period because this is when I'm most likely to doubt my training, and my ability to finish the race. I will just follow the plan with a few tweaks and cross my fingers.
Hubby and I went to the rifle range for some shooting this afternoon with some friends. I prefer going with just Hubby, since I can be selfish and spend the whole time shooting while Hubby mans the spotting scope. When we go with friends, especially friends who aren't experienced shooters, I spot for them and let them do most of the shooting.
So most of the day they fired various guns and I spotted for them. Then Hubby and friends moved down range to the handgun range and I had the whole range to myself. And by that I mean I was the only person on the whole rifle range. And may I just say I did really well considering that I haven't been shooting in several months! I shot several bulls eye targets at 50 yards with my trusty Russian 22 biathlon rifle, my favorite. I had several very nice 5 shot groupings right on the bulls eye. So then, I started aiming for the 100 yard target. I kind of forgot that when I'm shooting at that distance with a 22 I need to aim pretty high. My shots were all dead center, at the bottom of the target. If someone had been there to spot for me I probably would have adjusted enough to get some good center shots.
Hubby and I went to the rifle range for some shooting this afternoon with some friends. I prefer going with just Hubby, since I can be selfish and spend the whole time shooting while Hubby mans the spotting scope. When we go with friends, especially friends who aren't experienced shooters, I spot for them and let them do most of the shooting.
So most of the day they fired various guns and I spotted for them. Then Hubby and friends moved down range to the handgun range and I had the whole range to myself. And by that I mean I was the only person on the whole rifle range. And may I just say I did really well considering that I haven't been shooting in several months! I shot several bulls eye targets at 50 yards with my trusty Russian 22 biathlon rifle, my favorite. I had several very nice 5 shot groupings right on the bulls eye. So then, I started aiming for the 100 yard target. I kind of forgot that when I'm shooting at that distance with a 22 I need to aim pretty high. My shots were all dead center, at the bottom of the target. If someone had been there to spot for me I probably would have adjusted enough to get some good center shots.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Cool Weather
Oh, the blessed cooler weather is back! Just as the weatherman predicted. I ran 5 miles this morning at 7:00; I didn't have the fog that I love but it was cool and comfortable. Maybe, just maybe, the weather will be good for the half mary in 2 weeks. I promised Hubby that if it's hot, I'll walk it instead of trying to run the whole thing.
Every runner knows you need to listen to your body; it's one of the first lessons you learn as a runner. So what do you do when your body argues back? I sometimes feel a little schizophrenic on long runs; my body not only talks to me, it makes some pretty incisive arguments as to why we shouldn't run. Here's an example of what happens when I listen to my body:
Body: I need to stop. You're trying to kill me.
Brain: Good grief, we're barely at the 4 mile mark. You've done this distance a million times. Keep running.
Body: No, this time it's different. I'm really struggling here. Let's go home and have some pancakes.
Brain: It's no different than any other run, and you're not stopping. And when we get home, you can have a bowl of cereal and a banana, but no pancakes.
Body: You're no fun any more. I'm just going to stop.
Brain: DON'T STOP. You're fine. Keep running.
Body. I'm having a heart attack. I'm having an asthma attack. And what's that pain in my ankle? I think I just broke a bone.
Brain: DON'T STOP. I just checked-no heart attack, no asthma, no broken bones. Stop complaining!
Body: They're going to find me on the roadside, dead from running.
Brain: Will you PLEASE shut up and just run? Honestly, you're like a 3 year old.
And so it goes, for miles and miles. I suppose it will never get easy; as soon as it's easy I'll probably push to try for a whole new set of challenges in running.
Every runner knows you need to listen to your body; it's one of the first lessons you learn as a runner. So what do you do when your body argues back? I sometimes feel a little schizophrenic on long runs; my body not only talks to me, it makes some pretty incisive arguments as to why we shouldn't run. Here's an example of what happens when I listen to my body:
Body: I need to stop. You're trying to kill me.
Brain: Good grief, we're barely at the 4 mile mark. You've done this distance a million times. Keep running.
Body: No, this time it's different. I'm really struggling here. Let's go home and have some pancakes.
Brain: It's no different than any other run, and you're not stopping. And when we get home, you can have a bowl of cereal and a banana, but no pancakes.
Body: You're no fun any more. I'm just going to stop.
Brain: DON'T STOP. You're fine. Keep running.
Body. I'm having a heart attack. I'm having an asthma attack. And what's that pain in my ankle? I think I just broke a bone.
Brain: DON'T STOP. I just checked-no heart attack, no asthma, no broken bones. Stop complaining!
Body: They're going to find me on the roadside, dead from running.
Brain: Will you PLEASE shut up and just run? Honestly, you're like a 3 year old.
And so it goes, for miles and miles. I suppose it will never get easy; as soon as it's easy I'll probably push to try for a whole new set of challenges in running.
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