gobigorgohome2016

[gobigorgohome2016]

All the Cliches

When I started writing this post in my head, I was going to title it something like Out of Hibernation, yet make it known that I wasn’t planning to bore you with a 1,300 word soliloquy comparing myself to a Bleeding Heart (which is apparently a Spring perennial and, you know, we’re all about cliches here) blooming through the last remnants of Winter frost.

Then I thought, no, do I really need an intro to tell everyone I’m back on my bullshit after a few steps forward and another step back?  

Then I realized...isn’t running really just the epitome of a giant cliche?  

TL;DR I had a big accomplishment in the fall and thought the momentum would carry over super easily into the Spring.  I ignored some symptoms, realized I was anemic, felt really sad, and now I’m starting to feel like myself again.  aka, the simple, common, cliched journey of every.single.runner.

Even though this experience is the embodiment of what it means to be an endurance athlete, why do we act surprised every single time?  Leading up to Philadelphia, after my year of mystery illness [which, it turns out, had another plot twist.  Remember how I was having a massive immune system reaction and pretty terrible quality of life?  Well, after we found mold in the house the problem went 90% away.  The remaining 10% was still driving me crazy.  Long story short, the installation of a whole-home water filter has returned me to a fully functioning human being.  Hello, my name is Anna and I’m just your local canary in the coal mine] I vowed I would do a better job about just letting life go with the flow and not try to fight the current every step of the way.  I guess I got too big for my britches because - lo and behold - I found myself avoiding what I pretty much knew all along.

After Philadelphia, I took 2 weeks off and really enjoyed my down time.  The highlight was a day trip to French Lick, where Dave and I hit the casino (I won $25), ate all the sweets, shopped, split an amazing kobe beef burger, got day drunk, and took the scenic drive home.  The next day I started running again and, much to my surprise, felt way better than I normally do after two weeks of zero exercise.  This felt like a big win. 

December turned out to be extra crazy, then at the end of January I co-hosted a women’s running retreat, BAnna Camp.  Any fatigue I was feeling during December and January I just chalked up to stress and the typical things you do when you’re in that awkward in-between period from one race to another:  less sleep, less healthy food, less fitness.  

^have to make sure this post never dies

The first day I was in Austin, Becki and I did a workout together.  It was my first “real” workout back (other than some fartleks and strides), and it wasn’t even supposed to be hard:  3 x 7 min @ 6:00 pace.  I STRUGGLED.  I couldn’t breathe, my quads were heavy, and the paces felt much more difficult than they seemed like they should.  But, there were plenty of excuses:  it’s windy, we were running a net uphill, I was dehydrated from travel, I was stressed about the upcoming camp, etc. etc.  Midway through that workout I had a very distinct thought of oh shit, this feels very anemic right now.  That night I texted my friend who would be joining us later in the week and asked her to bring some iron pills, since I had forgotten my supplement.  

The following week my workout didn’t feel great, but again, it was easy to make excuses.  I was on a treadmill.  I was still catching up on sleep from camp.  Maybe I’m more out of shape than I thought. 

Longer efforts didn’t feel great, but I was getting them done.  My paces felt quick, but, winter training never feels amazing.  Plus, it seemed like every workout I did was into a strong wind, so how can you really judge pace and effort?  

In early February, I had my first race of the season which was a 5 miler in downtown Indy.  I had told Dave I was going to hold 5:30 pace for as long as I could and see what happened.  My first mile was 5:54, and Dave said he could hear me breathing before he could see me.  I was 3rd that day in just under 30:00.  Again, there were plenty of excuses.  It was windy.  We had celebrated Valentine’s Day the night before, so maybe steak, lobster, buttered mashed potatoes, and wine wasn’t the best pre-race meal?  

During my sulking about the race I had an aha moment.  In December, prior to realizing we had an issue with our water, I was trying to figure out what was still causing skin rashes and GI issues.  The only thing I was taking every day was ferrous sulfate, which is an iron supplement that is gentle on your stomach but has some suspect ingredients (food colorings, sorbate, etc.).  I decided to switch my supplement (one that had worked for me for YEARS) to something that seemed “cleaner”:  ionic iron.  While I was wracking my brain trying to figure out what could be wrong, it occurred to me to check my iron dosage.  

I was taking ~10% of my normal ferrous sulfate dosage, and honestly don’t even know how absorbable ionic iron even is.  That day I made the switch back to ferrous sulfate, but knew that if my iron/ferritin was low, it would take about 6 weeks before I felt a difference.

If at this point you’re reading along and thinking to yourself, it’s not expensive to just go and get a blood test to find out whether your iron is low - you are absolutely correct.  I should have just scheduled an appointment to take a blood test and find out.  But, I’m stubborn.

Two weeks after my 5 mile race I flew to Atlanta for the Road to Gold, an 8 mile race on the 2020 Olympic Trials course.  This is a whole other post in and of itself, but I will say that the hype is real.  That course is going to be hard.  

While the experience was great, my time was not.  My goal had been to run 5:45 pace through the first 4 miles and then pick up the pace.  While I did go through the first 4 miles in 22:50, just under my goal, I went through the next 4 miles in 24:20ish, and again felt as though I couldn’t breathe.  I finally conceded it was time for a blood test. 

The results were pretty much exactly what I thought they would be:  low ferritin, high CO2 in my blood, and borderline-low Vitamin D.  After weeks of agonizing over whether I was out of shape I finally had an answer (albeit one I should have just figured out sooner).  So, I upped my iron supplement and looked ahead.  

Nowhere to go but up, right?

In the following weeks I paid better attention to meal timing (i.e., if I was having a steak for dinner I wasn’t pairing it with red wine or other iron-inhibiting foods).  I cut out my second cup of coffee in the afternoon so that my body could have a better chance at iron absorption.  I focused more on sleep.  I got back on nutrient tracking to make sure I was getting everything I needed from my diet.  

and it paid off

6 weeks after my miserable 5 mile race where I could barely run faster than 5:58 pace for 5 miles, I ran 1:16:37 in the Carmel half marathon on a less-than-ideal day with rain and wind.  

During race week I cut out all caffeine and red wine to hopefully give my body the extra boost it needed to absorb iron.  I meal prepped early in the week so that I had nutrient-rich options readily available.  I said no to a couple work-related opportunities that popped up in favor of less stress, and I gave myself my best chance to succeed.  

In truth, sometimes setting yourself up for success is scary.  What if you do everything possible and you don’t succeed?  I have seen so many talented athletes give up because they went all in and it didn’t immediately pay off.  But, that’s probably another post for another day, too. 

Come race day we had 15 mph winds, pouring rain, and puddles on the course.  It will sound sarcastic when I say this, but that truly is my favorite racing weather.  Going into the race my A goal (not accounting for weather) was 75 min, B goal 76 min, and C goal 77 min.  My plan was to run the first 10 at 5:45 effort, then see how fast I could go the last 5k.  

Starting off, I was very pleased to find myself in a pack of men and through the first mile around 5:40.  I NEVER trust my GPS, so all splits I give will be those from the course.  I went through 4 miles in 22:50 - the exact same time I went through 4 miles in Atlanta, only this time I felt so much better.  I went through 6.55 (again, as marked on the course, not my GPS) in 37:26 and felt like I really had a chance at sub 75 still.  Through 10 miles I was right at 58 min.  I felt strong for the first time in a long time. 

Around mile 11 I started to get tired, and just focused on getting through 0.5 miles at a time.  T last couple miles were definitely the toughest, as they were mostly uphill/into the wind.  76:38 is my fourth fastest half [74:03, Houston, PERFECT weather; 75:20, ‘17 US championships, goal race full taper, 75:59, Columbus half, 4 weeks out from Philly], and this gives me a lot of encouragement considering some sub-par months of training.    

Now that I am feeling the effects of higher ferritin, I’m beginning to wonder if I wasn’t a little bit low during my Philly build up.  I have had some of my best long runs and workouts the past couple weeks - ones that would have blown away what I did leading up to Philly.  It also makes sense, given how I felt the last half of my Philly race, that my ferritin may have been low.  Moving forward, I’m going to schedule blood work much more regularly so that I don’t have preventable problems like this occur.  Definitely kicking myself, but, as with all failures in life it was a great opportunity to learn and grow.  

My next race is in 6 weeks and I’ll be at the 25k championships in Grand Rapids.  I’m looking forward to seeing what another 6 weeks of quality training and (hopefully) warmer weather can do for my fitness!  

[gobigorgohome2016]

More than Meets the Eye

TLDR; I qualified for the Olympic Trials on Sunday, running 2:40:11 for 2nd place in the Philadelphia marathon.  If you want the longer version, grab a cup of coffee and settle in!

If you’re a follower of mine, you may have noticed my absence from blogging.  The truth is that blogging stopped serving me these past few months.  Mostly, I got to the point where I found myself writing my blog in my head during a race or workout before I was even finished running, instead of focusing on the workout.  This reminded me of freshman year of college after I first got facebook and statuses could only be written in the format of “Anna is….”.  I had been so obsessed with social media that year that I found myself thinking in third person. I enjoyed neither experience.

This year, in general, I have chosen to take a step back.  I have largely kept quiet about my training.  This isn’t because I don’t have anything to say or want to keep it secret.  Instead, my public voice has largely mirrored what has been going on in my head: silence.

For maybe the first time ever, I just haven’t focused that much energy on thinking about running. Not because I don’t love running or don’t want to succeed, but moreso because I just needed to be a passive participant in my running career for a little while.

In July I handed my coach the reins and for the first time since high school asked him to write 100% of my plan.  I stopped keeping a training log.  I would receive 2 weeks of workouts at a time, email him every Sunday to let him know how they went (or text him after the big workouts), and then he would adjust my training as necessary.  That’s it. No overthinking, overanalyzing, or running on Sunday night just for the sake of seeing “100” in my training log instead of “94.”  I did what was written down to the best of my ability and left it at that.  

The result?  The best, most consistent training cycle of my life. I covered about 950 miles in 10 weeks and didn’t miss a single workout.  In 3 months I took one day off (beginning 3 months out from a race I take days off as needed).  My coach wrote workouts for me that I likely would not have come up with by myself and peppered in some old favorites.  Even better: for the first training cycle ever, I didn’t even have any aches or pains arise.  I had some great races throughout the last three months as well:

August: 17:14 5k

September: 18:10ish xc 5k

October: 1:15:59 half marathon

I knew my training was indicating I was in PR marathon shape.  My goals were as follows:

A: sub-2:35 or top 3 

B: sub-2:40 or top 5 

C: sub-2:45

2:45 is the Olympic Trials standard, which is truly the only goal that mattered, since I hadn’t hit my 2020 qualifier yet

Here is a recap of the weekend:

Our plan was to fly to Philly on Thursday, arriving around 5 PM.  We woke up to an ice storm that apparently hit the entire east coast, as well. Our flight from Chicago to Philly was cancelled, leaving us with the only option of flying into Baltimore at 6 AM the next morning and driving the rest of the way to Philadelphia.  This was probably a blessing in disguise since Philly was covered in ice and snow, and the last thing I needed was to slip and fall on the sidewalk.

Dave and I had the chance to go the Berghoff while we were in Chicago, which is one of our favorite restaurants.

We woke up at 3:50 AM on Friday and made it to Philly around 1 PM.  We immediately picked up my coach and drove the course.  First impression:  not flat.  At all. I don’t mind a hilly course, but I was definitely surprised since I had heard from everyone how flat and fast it is!

The first 10k is flat/downhill throughout downtown.  The next 15kish is a lot of climbing with some steep ups and downs.  The final 12ish miles is an out and back with sizeable rolling hills.  

We grabbed lunch at the turnaround (mile 20) of the out and back in a cute little neighborhood on top of the hills.  I was exhausted, cranky, and tired of sitting in the car.  After lunch I checked into my hotel around 5 PM, which gave me about an hour and 40 minutes to run, shower, and relax before we met my sister and brother-in-law for dinner at one of their restaurants, Rex 1516.

I napped for a half hour, went for a slow 24 min run and called it 3 miles, showered, and walked over to my coach’s hotel.  We walked to Rex and I was EXHAUSTED.

I fell asleep very easily around 9:30 PM, didn’t set an alarm, and was happy to have woken up feeling very well rested around 6:45 AM on Friday.  

Friday morning I had a to-do list that I wanted to complete as quickly as possible so that I could relax as much as possible.  I had to run, go to the expo, drop off my water bottles, pick up groceries for dinner, shave my legs (yes this was a to-do list item because I had been lazy conserving energy and hadn’t shaved in 4 weeks since my last race), and paint my nails.  

I completed all of the above by noon and was rewarded with a 6 hour Sex and the City marathon. Seriously, there was literally nothing I would rather do than drink coffee and watch Sex and the City the day before a race.  

At 6 we headed over to my sister’s house to make dinner.  I made salmon, millet, and roasted sweet potato, parsnip, and Yukon gold potatoes.  In all, I consumed about 500 grams of carbs on Saturday, which included popcorn, oatmeal, orange juice, millet, red wine, root vegetables, left over grits, and lots of rice.

I wasn’t at all nervous heading into the race.  That doesn’t mean I didn’t have some feelings.  Above all, I didn’t want to fail.  I am tired of feeling like I’ve failed.  I knew, though, that failure would only happen because of something outside my control.  I was ready. The weather looked perfect.  I had nothing to fear, except for that moment in the race when you have to say yes even though your body wants to say no.

Race morning had an early wake up call of 4 AM.  I like to be up 3 hours before the gun goes off.  I drink my coffee, eat breakfast, go through my every day morning routine of apps and journaling, and then put on my racing kit.  I was happy to have raced in cold water in Columbus because I knew what to wear (or so I thought!)

Dave and I jogged about a mile to the elite tent and he left me with a good luck and a quick kiss.  

The weather felt a lot colder than I anticipated.  My toes were frozen on the starting line.  We weren’t given the opportunity to do any strides, so I was a little worried my legs would feel like lead when the gun went off.  I had warmed up about a total of 1.5 miles.  

My plan was possibly the best I have ever concocted, because it made me excited.  When I run workouts and long runs, I always focus on 25% of what’s left.  So, if I’m running a 20 miler, I will first only focus on 5 miles, then on 25% of the remaining 15 miles (3.75 mi), then 2.xx miles, and so on.  For the marathon, this roughly equated to:

10k, 8k, 6k, 5k, 4k, 3k, 2k, 1k.  To make up the final 3k, my coach suggested I do a 400 m pickup in between each section. PERFECT.

My plan was also to negative split.  I did not want to run faster than 6:00 pace that first 10k, although I knew I likely would be fast with the cool weather and slight downhill.  My first mile was 5:42 and I was in 5th or 6th place. By the time I made it to 10k (36:12) I had worked my way into 2nd.  The woman who was in 3rd stayed with me through 9 or 10 miles.  I did not care, though.  I knew I was on the perfect pace and only focused on what I needed to do.  

I actually went through the 10k and 10 mile splits in paces I had visualized leading up the race. My 10 mile split was around 58 minutes.  The hills on this section of the course were pretty brutal.  I had lost the large pack of men I had been running with, which was probably good.  They were aiming for 2:30, but we had dropped a couple fast miles of 5:37 and 5:39.  By the half marathon mark, I was largely alone.  I went through half in perfect position of my goal:  1:17:08.

I still felt fairly effortless at this point.  I know in every marathon there will be a dark mile where you have to say yes when you want to say no.  I have no idea what happened between miles 13 and 15, but I hit that spot.  Around 15 I had a wave of I don’t want to do this anymore. This isn’t fun.  I don’t just mean like, this kinda hurts, I’m ready to be done I mean I literally thought I don’t really enjoy this running thing anymore and I think I would be happier if I walked off the course right now and retired.

The thing is, I have DNF’d two marathons in my life.  The first DNF was the worst feeling I have ever experienced in running.  But, the thing is, IT DIDN’T MATTER AND NO ONE CARED. I will be truthful here:  I believe that has opened up the door for me to take thoughts of DNFs more seriously since then.  It literally doesn’t matter, it’s just running. Before my first DNF, I thought I would be a massive failure and everyone would judge me.  When that didn’t happen I realized it’s just running.  

While this is a good thing, it also means when things hurt, walking off the course doesn’t seem like a terrible option.

What I didn’t know at the time is that this might have been the beginning of what I suspect was hypothermia.

As I was struggling with the internal debate of whether or not to walk off the course, I decided to just take a mile to relax.  Just run. Chill.  Get out of your head.  I knew based on my half split that I could run the 2nd half in 1:27 and still qualify.  JUST RELAX I kept telling myself. Get what you came for.

That next, relaxed, mile was 6:15. Then I had another talk with myself: Anna.  You are acting like the world is falling apart and you slowed down to a pace that is still under the standard and you are continuing to bank time.  Woman up.  

So I continued on with my plan, which at this point was just get to mile 18 (since I was in the midst of my 5k segment).

This part of the course was difficult.  I expected the out and back to be easy for me since I love out and backs and I was familiar with most of this section (except, apparently, the hills).  I guess the key here is expectations.

I realized recently that expectations are what get us in trouble.  When I am not in great shape I tend to race really well because I KNOW it is going to hurt.  When the pain comes up, I’m not surprised. 

When I’m in amazing shape, I feel as though I sometimes underperform because I expect it to feel easy.  Then, when it doesn’t, I panic.  That is why I have always struggled with running conservatively.  You expect a conservative race to feel good, but running will always hurt to some degree because it is not energetically favorable.  

Anyway.  I expected the out and back to be easier than it was and that might have bitten me in the ass.  I was struggling.  When I got to 17 the thought of having 3 more miles, and then 6.2 more miles felt impossible. I used every mental game trick I had: the announcer game, the counting game, the mantra game, the break-this-up-into-little-pieces game, the try-to-chase-people-down game, the bargaining game….I did everything in my power to keep my legs moving.

Once I finally turned around (after what felt like forever and a day), I used this opportunity to see how far behind me 3rd place was.  I had about 2 minutes on her.  At 20, I knew I had 45 minutes to run 6.2 miles and still qualify. That was all I truly cared about.

At the same time, though, I was in position for winning $5k.  I knew 1st place was out of reach.  I just had to not screw this up.  

Around this time I became acutely aware of a blister that had formed beneath my first metatarsal. It wasn’t overly painful, but it wasn’t comfortable either.  I was playing around with finding a better strike pattern to minimize stress.  If I had been thinking clearly, I wouldn’t have done this.  Not more than a mile later my hamstring (THE GOOD ONE) locked up.  Duh.  Change in biomechanics = compensation.  

I was on the pain train. I was struggling.  I wanted to be done.  

I DIDN’T WANT TO FAIL.

Going into this race, failure avoidance was my number one goal.  I am tired of failing.  By failing, I mean not showing up to the starting line at CIM last year, and not showing up to the finish line at Pittsburgh this year.  Each mile marker that I passed I would calculate how much time I had left in order to not fail.  It was coming out to be ~7:00 pace and I was still running 6:20s through the pain.

As I neared the finish line, the people running on the out portion were becoming more and more excited. I got a lot of “USA” chants.  When I got to mile 23 I told myself I had 20 minutes left.  I then focused on just running for 5 minutes.  That was the longest 5 minutes of my life.  Then, I focused on 3:45.  Then 2:30.  While driving the course I set a landmark for when I knew I was almost finished.  Where was my mark?  Why wasn’t it showing up fast enough?  I made it to 25 miles and was happy to know I had 2k to go.  Then I made it to 40k and was devastated to know I NOW had 2k to go.  I wanted to be done so badly.

I told myself I had 8 minutes to go.  I focused on running for 2 minutes.  Then 90 seconds.  Then I tried counting to 100.  I heard a woman yell at her husband to pass me because I was limping.  (bitch).  

I finally made it and crossed the finish line in 2:40:11.  I had just missed by B goal, but I was 2nd place so I also made my A goal?  I don’t know, it doesn’t matter.

A kind woman was assigned to help me and make sure I made it to the awards ceremony.  The only problem?  I couldn’t stop shaking.  Violently. I was shivering and shaking so badly that people were giving me their jackets, hats, and gloves.  Strangers were bringing me soup and hot chocolate. I have never felt so cold.  But I could at least still smile.

I shivered nonstop for nearly 90 minutes, until I was finally able to take a hot shower.  

Then the stomach issues started.  I was unable to eat anything for about 24 hours after the race.  Unfortunately, Dave and I had to cancel our dinner reservations, and instead I laid in bed miserably and watched Jurassic Park while Dave brought me Gatorade and peppermint tea.  

Fortunately, I am feeling better now.  But, not getting sufficient calories in after the race has definitely taken a toll on my body.  I feel like I have been hit by a truck. 

I didn’t have a chance to really reflect on what Sunday meant for me.

Do you all remember this? 

And this? 

And this? 

There was a point where I wasn’t sure I was able to train at this level anymore.  I wasn’t sure I would run fast again.  I wasn’t sure I wanted this anymore.  I am indebted to my coach, who rebuilt my confidence and got me into the best shape of my life.  There are obviously many more thank you’s:  Oiselle, for being so supportive the last three years, especially when things weren’t going well in the running realm; Dave, for absolutely everything he does to help support my dreams.  Winning substantial prize money this month is huge.  Last month I struggled with buying a new pair of running shoes; my PT and massage therapist for keeping me healthy; the oiselle volee for breaking the tracking system (I always feel like I am the most supported runner during a race!) and my athletes for being so supportive of me!  

I’m not sure what’s next. Right now I need a couple weeks off and then I will decide what I will do in the spring.  I might jump on the track, or maybe I will focus on a half marathon.  Next month my coach and I will meet to plan the next two years.  

It’s so weird to take stock of the differences between how I feel right now and how I felt 3 years ago when I qualified for 2016.  I was on top of the world.  I am definitely happy right now, but I think more than anything I am relieved.  I have zero regrets about my race, and I do believe that there was more to Sunday than meets the eye, with big things coming in the next two years.  

[gobigorgohome2016]

Living Intentionally:  Clawing My Way to Happiness

You might have noticed I haven’t updated my blog in a while.

The truth is that blogging for me is generally something I do when I’m happy, or when I want to process something that’s going on.  Even though I am wholeheartedly a fan of transparency at all levels of sport and that people should share the bad just as much as the good, the overwhelming amount of bad these past few months have forced me into survival mode.  

I started this update 3 weeks ago and bailed.  I was worried about the what-if of posting a good update and then everything going to shit again.  Well, it did, and I’m glad I didn’t post anything because I would have felt like I jinxed myself.  I know that’s an irrational response, but it also shows me that I wasn’t totally ready to move on.  

I came to terms the other day with the fact that we actually have zero control over what happens in our lives.  We just have to be prepared to deal with it all in the best way possible.  I knew I was ready to move forward because I’ve been writing this post in my head for days, which means my thoughts are fully formed and ready to come out.  

Spring Recap

I can’t start this post without a recap from the Spring.  I will keep this brief:

-terrible eczema that severely hindered my quality of life.  (people don’t’ seem to believe me when I say eczema can be that bad, so I’ll give you two words and you’ll probably better understand:  nipple eczema)

-unexplained/uncontrolled weight gain

I’m going to go on a tangent here.  I know my body.  It frustrated me to no end when I knew something was wrong with me because of how I was continually putting on water weight.  If you look at photos of me from the spring, I am puffy.  But, I couldn’t adequately talk about this with anyone because I was constantly told, “you look fine!” “You needed to gain weight!” “You look healthy now!” “You are more than your weight!”  “you are enough!”  

Here’s the thing:  I am an autonomous woman.  I am so sick of being told how I should feel about my body, good or bad.  I do not mean this to be a dig at anyone, but I hate with a vehement passion the overdosage of being told how I should feel about size or weight.  

I knew without a doubt that my body was telling me something but finding a professional who would listen proved impossible.

-inconsistent training

Every single time I thought I was on the up, something would happen that would knock me down.  Mostly, this was in the form of soft tissue injuries that would randomly pop up.  I suspected this was related to the 10 lbs I seemingly gained overnight.  

-new food sensitivities

In March I was so fed up with my eczema that I had another blood test to see if food sensitivities might be the problem.  They were. I finally felt like I was on the right track, 4 weeks out from my marathon.

-Pittsburgh and injury

This was going to be a fairy tale ending.  I struggled all winter and spring but came on really strong the last month of training. I knew I wasn’t running times in practice that correlated with my ultimate goal, but dammit, anything can happen on race day!  And, the only “anything” I hadn’t accounted for did:  I got hurt.  I truly do believe this was a blessing in disguise, but dammit if it didn’t hurt at the time.  Fortunately, we solved the problem fairly quickly and I was back to pain free running within about 4 weeks.  

Reflection:  Are you being Intentional?

During my first week off after the marathon, I was reflecting deeply on everything that had happened.  For maybe the first time since leaving grad school, I was utterly miserable.  I was definitely struggling with depression, and everything going on in my life seemed like a big “why?”

Very little was making me happy, but I also had absolutely no reason not to be happy.  

During my break, it dawned on me:  I had been living wholly without intention.  

You can have the exact life that you want, but if you procrastinate everything that needs to be done all day you will never be happy.  It was time for a change.

In general, my daily schedule involved late runs (usually a short run at 11 or noon, then my workout at 4 or 5).  I would kind of work between those times, but not really be able to get much done until after my last run.  In general, I was sleeping from midnight to 9, then crankily going about my day.  I frequently had to turn down offers to be social because I hadn’t run yet, and it put Dave and me on completely opposite schedules.

The thing is, I have always been a morning person.  I LOVE MORNINGS.  My favorite day of the week had become Wednesdays, because that was when I woke up at 5 AM to meet a friend downtown for 7 AM runs.  How could I replicate this?

I decided I would be become a morning runner.  In 6 weeks I had changed from being a night owl who primarily worked between the hours of 6 PM and 11 PM to someone who was done working and running everyday by 4 PM and feeling happier than possibly ever before.  A lot of people have asked me how I did this, and it might be a blog post for an entirely different day, but here are my tips:

Step 1:  Jet Lag Yourself The hardest part about switching your routine is the whole sleep thing.  I spent a week waking up at 5 AM every day, no matter what, but not forcing myself to go to bed at any specific time.  I was so used to going to sleep at midnight or 1 AM that I couldn’t just magically fall asleep at 9.  I spent a week totally sleep deprived, but now I am out by 10 PM most nights and easily able to wake up at 5 or 6 AM without my alarm.

Step 2:  Create a Morning Routine you Love

I have no problem getting out of bed because I LOVE my morning routine.  I do the exact same thing every single day, and I look forward to it more than anything else.  In fact, most nights I go to bed unable to wait to start my routine.  You’re probably wondering what could be so special that I can’t wait to wake up…in reality it’s pretty boring.  

I eat breakfast, make a cup of coffee, then sit down with my dogs for uninterrupted time on my phone and with my journal.  I go through the same series of apps each day:  Facebook, ibotta, Kroger, Givling, Pulse, I check the rescue’s bank account, Lasting, and the Whole Foods app.  Then I write in my journal and probably post a picture of my dogs and me to an Instagram story.  This takes me 60 – 90 minutes.  

Step 3:  Make Small Changes

I made the switch to a morning runner while I was coming off of injury, so it didn’t seem like a big deal to go for a 10 min run at 6:30 AM.  I would often tell myself to just go for 5 minutes and I could call it a day if I wanted (I never did).  This is the hardest part:  you just have to force yourself to do it.  There is no advice I can give you like setting out your clothes the night before or setting your coffee to a timer.  You.just.have.to.force.yourself.  My coach always told us in high school that doing something every day for 2 weeks forms a habit. I don’t know if it’s true, but it certainly was for me.  

After 6 weeks, I felt as though I had completely changed.  The problem I now face is that if I sleep in like I did last week, going for a run after 9 AM is really hard.  I felt like I had wasted my entire morning and like it was futile at that point. I guess I overcorrected.

Shit Hit the Fan Part II

By mid-May I was starting to feel like I had successfully navigated a very difficult season of my life.  Hey – the worst thing that happened was an injury, right?  Even then, the injury led to so many good things that it was hard to be *too* unhappy.

Following the marathon I spent 2 weeks eating whatever I wanted (as in, all of the foods I have sensitivities toward).  Normally this is great.  Sure, I feel like crap but when I’m not running my immune system doesn’t seem to have as strong a response.  If I had known all the stress we were about to have, I would have stuck to my immuno-calm diet as closely as possible.

Now, if you know me you know that my dogs are my children.  I don’t want kids.  But, I do want a house full of dogs that need me to love and care on them 24/7.  The night before the Indy 500, Lucy (our 15 year old Cavalier King Charles Spaniel) was attacked by a dog 3x her size.  I was alone and I couldn’t do anything to save her. Fortunately, being the night before the 500, all of our neighbors were outside.  Our neighbor’s brother ran over and saved Lucy (and he got bit in the process).  By the time the attack was over, Lucy was bleeding from her mouth, eye, and neck. I rushed her to the emergency vet (which is fortunately less than a mile from my house), and was certain I was taking her to be euthanized.  

Fortunately, she was bleeding from her mouth because she had lost a tooth in the attack (which I later found.  Crazy). She was bleeding from her eye because a cyst she had on her eyelid had ruptured.  The worst was her neck, which had a very deep wound that required two surgeries, a drain, and 15 stitches.  Dave and I had to take turns sitting with Lucy for 2 weeks straight, but she made a full recovery.  

I, on the other hand, am still struggling.  I have a hard time walking my dogs.  I have a hard time knowing that I froze.  I was trying so hard to get her collar off of her because the dog was choking her that I never did anything, like, kick the other dog in the face.  I carry pepper spray with me while I walk now and I know that someone’s legitimately friendly dog is going to get pepper sprayed.  My recovery is a work in progress.  

What Else Can Go Wrong?

Around the time that Lucy was attacked, my body was doing some strange things.  I wasn’t surprised that my eczema was coming back, because a) I had been eating all the crap foods, and b) stress is a major trigger for me and I was completely sleep deprived and crying constantly.  But, I couldn’t figure out why lips were swelling. Every day I took a photo, and every day my lips and face seemed a little worse.

A few days before Lucy got her stitches out, I noticed a rash on my chin.  I watched it over the course of 72 hours and it only got worse and started to spread.  I finally went to the convenience clinic and was told I had poison sumac, based on the yellow blisters.  The treatment was a 2 week course of prednisone.

First of all, prednisone freaked me out because I had heard all the terrible side effects.  I was expecting to gain 30 lbs overnight, to rage constantly, and to deep clean my house because I couldn’t sleep.

Instead, I felt better than I literally had in months.  

That stubborn 10 lbs of puffiness I had gained?  Gone. Almost overnight, my body was back to normal.  I could wear normal clothes again because my eczema had cleared.  I could run without applying every single anti-chafe cream under my bra. It’s funny the things you take for granted.  The last few nights on prednisone I couldn’t sleep because I was so scared that everything would come back again and I would never be normal again.  

What Else Can Go Wrong Part II

Within 3 days of going off prednisone, everything came back.  With a vengeance.  I took my last dosage of prednisone on a Wednesday, and I woke up on Saturday looking like this:

I had a cross country race that morning, and I didn’t want to compete.  But, we were racing as a team and it was for a really good cause (it was a charity race where the top teams won money for their charity of choice). I put on my biggest pair of sunglasses and raced really freaking well, much to my surprise.  It was fun.  More than anything, I needed to know that I could have fun even though it felt like I had zero control over anything in my life.

I scheduled a doctor appointment for Monday morning.  In the meantime, I wanted to try and eliminate as many triggers as possible. I stayed in a hotel Saturday night because I could tell that I felt worse at home.  The hotel seemed to help.  On Sunday, Dave deep-cleaned our bedroom to try and eliminate whatever was obviously othering me.

I arrived to my appointment Monday morning with a laundry list of everything I had been dealing with for the past 6 months.  The doctor patiently listened to me drone on and on.  She took one look at me and said, “I’m sorry about everything you’ve been through, but it’s just a poison ivy rash.”

Oh.

So I went on another 2 week round of prednisone.

Now for the mystery of the poison ivy.  A friend sent me a compilation of consumer complaints against the exact brand of potting soil I used in my garden.  Here’s the thing:  my swollen lips started the day I planted my garden.  Dave never works in my garden, but he got a poison ivy rash the day after he helped me stake and transplant plants.  My reactions could all be traced to days I spent significant time weeding or transplanting.  I also had a poison ivy rash on my arm that coincided with the one supposedly on my face. Is this the answer!?  

I hope so, but I’m also not getting my hopes up.  I know that nothing is ever *that* easy with me.  

The doctor referred me to a dermatologist for the recurring eczema.  He was extremely interested in my photos of my facial swelling and actually used them as a teaching moment for his residents.  The lack of swelling on my nose combined with the way my eyelids were swollen indicated I was allergic to something airborne.  He suggested a mold test for the house.  

I was already one step ahead of him.  On top of everything else that had happened in the past few months, Dave and I had our roof replaced because of a leak.  We also had some mold remediation performed on a spot in our attic.  I had ordered a mold test last week and sent off our samples.

As I was standing in line at CVS waiting for my protopic prescription for the eczema on my eyelids (yes. On my eyeids.  What is my life), I got our mold test results:  we have 800x the amount of mold in our basement as we do outdoors.  

Is this the answer to everything?

I hope so.  I’m exhausted.  Dave is exhausted.  Dave is ready to burn down our house.  

Forging a Way Forward

I have spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself this year.  Taking control of my day by claiming mornings has helped significantly.  Oddly enough, though, what has really bene helpful is my new Wednesday routine:  Work-Not-From-Home-Wednesday.  Every Wednesday I go to a different coffee shop in Indy and work there for a few hours.  

I have never been so productive.  Tuesdays are a workout/lift/nap day, so I put off any work that I can until Wednesday.  I run early on Wednesday, then spend the day drinking cappuccino and taking myself on a date.  I get so much done that I rarely have anything to do on Thursday, which is another workout/lift/nap day.  

Above all, I have found that creating routines for myself that make me happy has bene the easiest way to create happiness.

Training Update

Where does that put me now? Well, I have been running quite a bit. I will be around 70 miles this week with an 18 mile long run, two lifting sessions, and some quality work. I am not choosing a race until I know for sure I am off the prednisone.  

Unfortunately, pred is considered a performance enhancing drug, so I am unable to compete while I am taking it (but only have to wait about 3 days after my last dosage to be safe to compete).  Most people have asked why I don’t just get a therapeutic use exemption. Yes, this is an option, but it’s not one that I am comfortable with.  I do not think it is ethical to compete while taking a PED, even if doing so legally.  

So, until I am certain I am healthy, I will just keep chugging along, trying to make the most of my crazy ass life and finding ways to be happy no matter what else gets thrown my way.  

[gobigorgohome2016]

Did. Not. Finish.  A lesson in knowing my worth.

At the beginning of the year, I posted my goals on social media.  At the very top was to finish in the top 3 at Pittsburgh.  I also developed process goals for every step of the way.  My mantra that held everything together was know your worth.

While I ultimately did not come close to my goal, I did stay true to my mantra.  I know my worth, and I know that on a mental, emotional, and physical level I am worth far more than finishing a marathon just for the sake of finishing a marathon if my health is at risk.  

In fact, this isn’t the first marathon I have DNF’d.  My very first marathon attempt was Chicago in 2012.  Ironically, a very similar problem occurred.  Two weeks before the race I had hurt my left hamstring during a tune up half marathon.  I felt something lock up around mile 10 in Chicago, and at mile 21 or 22 (somewhere in Chinatown) I stopped running.  It took me 4 weeks to get over that injury and be able to start running again.

At the time, I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.  I had told so many people that I was running Chicago, and I was beyond embarrassed to have not finished the race.  Chicago was the first DNF in my entire life.  

I didn’t realize it until yesterday, but I am happy for that experience.  Had Sunday been my first DNF ever, there is a possibility it could have completely destroyed my confidence.  I know that I really struggled after Chicago, and was downright scared to race again.  Now I know that there is life after a DNF, and that the world doesn’t end just because of a poorly timed injury.  

So, what exactly happened?

I started the race and felt AMAZING.  Despite telling myself that I didn’t want anything faster than 6:00 (and after my warm up I relaxed that to 6:05 because of the lingering 98% humidity in the air), I went out in a very comfortable 5:52.  I felt great, and was rolling along exactly where I needed to be.  

My race plan had been for me to run the first 5.5 miles no faster than 6:00 pace.  My 10k split was 37:15, which was almost dead on. However, right before the 10k I felt a sudden seize in my right hamstring.  From the belly of the muscle all the way into the insertion point in my glute I could tell something wasn’t completely right.  

At first I wasn’t concerned. I had only felt it once, and maybe this was just a weird misfiring?  Strange things are bound to happen when you run so many miles.  But, the pain eventually came back, and then it lingered.

I remember telling myself that the pain was all in my head and that I could work through it.  I tried ignoring it.  I tried reframing it.  I tried telling myself that the human body can handle much more than I realize, and all I had to do was finish the race with an OTQ and I could take the rest of the year off if I had to.  I tried focusing on activating my glutes, because maybe that was the problem?

Also around mile 6 I had something happen that I have been dealing with off and on throughout this training cycle:  my left foot fell asleep.  So, to recap, I can’t feel my left foot and my right hamstring is a mess.  Great.

Nevertheless, I continued. I told myself, repeatedly, there is no way you aren’t finishing this race.

Right after mile 10 the climbing began.  I was happy that the large hills between miles 11 and 13 didn’t slow me down as much as they had the last time I ran Pittsburgh, in 2015.  From 11 – 13, I split 13:10.  My half marathon split was 1:20:12, which was perfect.  I knew that all I needed to do was hang on through the final few miles of hills before I hit 16 and the course was mostly downhill.  I knew that even if the pain got worse, I could manage a 1:24 half and hit my qualifier.  Would it be the time I wanted?  No, but that wasn’t going to matter.

But, the pain got significantly worse.  Actually, had the problem only been pain I think I would have managed. Unfortunately, my stride seemed to be affected too.  I think that the 4 mile stretch of climbing with very little downhill was just too much on an already stressed hamstring.  

At this point, I told myself to run just fast enough so that I wasn’t in pain and see what happened. This effort equated to ~6:40 pace.  I told myself I would try this pace for a mile or two and then reassess whether I could pick up the pace again.

Around mile 17 I passed a woman and I felt a surge of energy.  I can do this!  I’m going to be cutting it REALLY close, but if I stay around 6:30 pace, I can make this happen, I thought.

I don’t know exactly where things took a turn for the worse, but somewhere around 20 I realized my day was over.  As I came up on mile 21, I saw that I was barely holding onto 10:00 pace.  At mile 22, I was run/walking.  

I felt as though I had two choices:  do I put an extra 40+ minutes on my legs just to say I finished a marathon, or do I stop?  Initially, I decided I would keep going.  Then I thought about the massive, steep downhill at mile 24 and thought about how I would have to walk down that hill.  At that point, my decision was made.  If I knew I was going to have to walk down a hill in order to save myself from further injury, there was no reason for me to be out there.  

I know that not everyone agrees with my decision to walk off the course, and that’s okay.  I also don’t feel like I have to prove to anyone that I can run 26.2 miles.  Oddly, I am at peace with how Sunday ended.  That doesn’t mean that I am not disappointed, because I am.  I am also confused whether those last 4.2 miles really make the difference in a marathon, or if I am just extremely strong right now.  Outside of the whole hamstring thing, I am not sore, and don’t really feel like I ran a relatively hard 22 miles.  

I know this is going to sound strange, but I am very grateful for everything that happened this weekend.  

One, I know that my preparations were on point.  Even though the training cycle was far from perfect, I am clearly very fit right now, and I think I would have finished 2:40 – 2:42 had things not taken a turn for the worst.  Had the weather been perfect, I think I would have run faster.  This is a big mental win. 

My non-running preparations were also great. I think I have found the sweet spot for waking up early and practicing race day nutrition, as well as carb-loading. This was the first time I hit my carb targets without feeling miserable, and my legs felt great on race day.

Also, I am grateful for the wakeup call.  My right hamstring has been intermittently tight since January.  I thought I could manage the issue with twice monthly massage.  Deep down, I knew that PT would be helpful, but I didn’t want to make that investment.  I admit that I’m embarrassed to say this, considering my #1 piece of advice to people who want to improve is to make the right investments.  However, between the anemia in the fall and the hamstring in the spring, I am happy that my body is giving me the messages I need.  I will return as a stronger, faster runner.

In the end, all I can ask out of any racing experience is data on how to improve.  What would have been better?  To run 2:44:59 but continue to ignore my hamstring (because let’s be honest, I probably would have if I was able to hang on for the OTQ), or to have dropped but be given a concrete reason to address an ongoing problem, with plenty of time to do so?

I had a PT appointment bright and early this morning.  The therapist said that my hamstring is very ropey and he feels as though I probably saved myself from serious damage by stopping.  The problem appears to be stemming from my lower back, which also makes sense as to why my left foot went numb around the time my hamstring got tight.  I have extremely limited extension in my low back, which is what we are addressing first.  I’m also receiving dry needling for the hammy.  

While I normally look forward to 2 weeks devoid of exercise, it looks like I will be doing a lot of PT work so that I am back and running as soon as possible.  Keep a look out for an R+F sale from me soon, so I can fund my new twice weekly PT habit (at least until my deductible is met).  

I really appreciate how many people have reached out to me, both before and after the race.  I think I received just as many messages of support after my race as I had after I qualified for the Trials.  My followers are amazing, and you all are pushing me to want to be healthy ASAP so that I can reach these big goals of mine!  

[gobigorgohome2016]

Cultivating Positivity

If you have talked to me in the past 10 days, you know I can’t stop talking about Deena Kastor’s book.  

The truth is that it came to me at a time when I really needed to read it.  

From September 2015 – July 2017, I worked really hard on cultivating positivity.  Gratitude journaling, re-framing negative thoughts, developing mantras, being conscious of the words I used about myself, and practicing a positive mind frame during workouts were all my jam.  

Then, in the fall, I got sick and running stopped being fun.  When I was back to being healthy (but not fit) I was so focused on regaining fitness and doing all the right things, that I somehow let the positive thinking roll to the wayside.  

And I could feel it.

March and April were particularly rough.  How is it possible for me to be living the exact life that I want yet feel so unhappy?  Am I doing it wrong?  Is this actually the life that I want?  What happened to that buzz I used to feel about the most mundane things, like a good cup of coffee or seeing a pretty bird in my yard?  I tried reflecting on different things:  what does the perfect day look like? Perfect life?  I made lists of things that made me happy. Things I could do to make myself happy.

I chalked it up to the long, cold, miserable winter we were still having.  I thought maybe my iron or vitamin D levels were getting low.  Maybe the mileage was getting to me?  Maybe I just secretly hated my husband and was having a 1/3 life crisis?  

Then Dave and I got in a fight at Barnes and Noble because I caught him in the self-help book section. I thought he was looking for books for him (and was impressed at his internal reflection) but then he said a book caught his eye that he thought could help me.  OH HELL NO.  

That night, I picked up Let Your Mind Run, the self-help book I didn’t know I needed (and NOT the one Dave tried to recommend).  As I was reading, bits and pieces started coming back to me.  Oh right, I used to do that.  I made lists, thought about things for which I was grateful, and started reframing the things I had thought negatively about.

Then I read Deena’s chapter about her time in Finland.  She, too, had a period of time where she stopped working the mental muscle, and that ultimately resulted in a panic attack (I had one in December).  The way she felt in Finland was very similar to how I had been feeling.  A lot of what’s the point?  and feeling sorry for myself.  Within weeks of reframing her experience and thoughts, she ran a US leading 5k.  Light bulb moment for me.  

My mental game coach and I were chatting yesterday and the chicken and the egg argument arose.  Are athletes confident because they are running well, or running well because they are confident?  I know that my confidence was at an all-time high between August 2015 and January 2016 when every time I toed a starting line I ran a PR. Literally.  I ran 6 PRs from 4k xc to marathon.  

My best races and workouts have been the ones where I stood on the starting line and knew that whatever happened, it didn’t really matter.  Even at Twin Cities, which was my last chance to qualify for the Trials, I felt an unprecedented sense of calm.  I think my calmness surprised – and concerned – my coach.  For the first time, possibly ever, I was completely at ease with whatever happened that day.  I knew I had prepared to the absolute best of my ability and that if I didn’t get the result I wanted, it was probably due to circumstances entirely outside of my control.  I went to bed that night forgetting to even set an alarm (thankfully Dave realized my mistake).

What was the secret? How could I feel that way again? Would I ever feel that way again?

Fortunately, I found the answer in Deena’s book.

Gratitude. Positivity.  Removing emotion from performance.  Visualization.  Maintaining emotional control.  Creating a plan to execute [this is a big factor.  Up until I was reminded that I run my best when I am executing my plan, my marathon strategy had been to go out and run fast.  That type of goal does not keep my brain engaged].

How had I forgotten all of these things I had worked so hard to utilize just 6 months ago?  Well, it turns out it’s kind of like those core exercises you say you’re going to do every day.  Once you get slack, it’s easy to put them out of sight and out of (literal) mind.  

I started with gratitude lists.  I was grateful to be healthy.  To have achieved new mileage highs in training.  To have been able to recognize weaknesses with enough time to strengthen them. For my support team.  

Then I worked on reframing negativity.  Removing the word setback from my vocabulary.  Focusing on what if things go right instead of what if things go wrong.  Making plans for positivity based on any circumstances that might arise on race day.  Realizing that Cherry Blossom was a pretty freaking great race considering I was at such a low point, mentally, that I couldn’t wait to get out of DC once I got there.  

The potentially scary thing about a marathon is that anything can happen.  But instead of thinking about the what ifs (what if I fall off pace?  What if I start hurting at mile 8 instead of mile 16? What if I go out too hard?  What if I don’t OTQ?), I realized that it doesn’t matter.  I have full control over how I react to any situation that is thrown at me, and I have learned and practiced mental strategies for whatever situation occurs.  I am looking forward to seeing how hard I can fight on Sunday, mentally and physically.  As far as I am concerned, the worst thing that can happen (outside of injury) is that I don’t meet my C goal of running under 2:45. What will that mean?  That I will have learned something from the race that I can use in my next training cycle for a fall marathon ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

That’s not to say that I wouldn’t be disappointed, but without being able to know or predict what I will encounter on race day, I’m not going to waste the mental energy on those thoughts. I’m either going to have a good day, or a great day on Sunday.  

I ran a very encouraging workout this morning.  I met up with Rebecca, who is running the Mini this weekend, and we did my favorite pre-race workout:  2 x 4k @ race effort with 7:00 recovery.  This workout can be deceptive because you *think* it should be easy because it is *just* marathon pace.  The truth is that when you’re trying to run a fast marathon time, race day goal pace isn’t easy.  It’s not something you just casually run.  I would never arrive the starting line of a marathon without a full warm up because I don’t know about you, but I’m not one to just casually start dropping 6:00 miles.  RT and I chatted about our expectations for the workout a bit, and I told her I didn’t want anything faster than 6:00 pace.  This workout is much better to be too slow than too fast.  She said she was mentally prepared for anything slower than 5:40.  

The irony of me, pulling us through in 5:35 for the first mile (usually RT is the one to go hard and I’m the conservative one) was not lost on me.  While it wasn’t a perfectly paced workout, it was good to shake out the legs and know that I am FIT right now.  I know that I can hold a full conversation at 6:10 pace, and that 5:35 apparently feels like the proper marathon race pace.    At this point, the outcome of my race is entirely up to me.  

I am 2 years stronger. 2 years more race savvy, and I reminded myself recently that I have done something really brave the past 2 years: I have stood on starting lines all over the country with the nation’s best and raced distances that are not my forte, but treated them as though I deserved to be in the top 10.  Yes, this shook my confidence a little when I didn’t perform to my extremely high expectations, but it developed my competitiveness and gave me the race experiences that I missed out on in college.  

What’s going to be the outcome on Sunday?  In many ways I feel like I have run the race, because I have visualized nearly every inch of the course and have acutely felt the way it would feel to cross the finish line in every possible scenario, from 2:30:00 to 3:00:00.  I feel at this point there won’t be any surprises, just opportunities.  

[gobigorgohome2016]

Taper Week 1 + Final Big Workout

I am in the home stretch, which is strange because I’m feeling very different from other marathon training cycles.  

Normally at this point, I am plotting out exactly what I am going to do as soon as I cross the finish line:  drink a beer, eat a burger, and not engage in any physical activity for a glorious 14 days.  Last year, the US half marathon championships couldn’t come soon enough.  Even on the starting line, all I could think about was covering 13.1 miles as quickly as possible solely so that I could take a break.  Definitely not the right mindset for running your best! 

Traditionally, taper has been hard for me.  Not from the standpoint of “taper crazies”  - I’m not going to lie, when people complain about running less I just don’t get it.  At the same time, my taper is relatively small.  I ran 108 miles for my peak week, and last week I ran 92 (which includes one day off).  When you track my 7 day stretch from Tuesday to Monday, I still covered 102 miles.  This week will be lower, though, coming in at 76.  It will be weird to only run once per day most of the week.  Actually, today was my first single run in weeks and I felt like I had infinitely more time on my hands!  Of course that means I was less productive, because the best way to get things done is to be really busy, amirite?  

I’m starting to wonder if my early season setbacks will have actually served a greater purpose.  I feel like the last few weeks have been a turning point in my fitness and that things are coming together.  About 4 weeks ago I was running a warm up and I thought to myself you need to just be okay with the fact this might not be a PR training cycle.  After I had that thought, I wound up running a better-than-expected workout and I feel like I’ve been on the up and up ever since.  I’m not sure I have ever made it to this point in training feeling as though my legs are still fresh.  

On Sunday I did what I love to do during taper:  I pored over my running logs and looked at data.  I love to look at my mileage totals.  Here is my mileage during the same 92 day periods leading up to each race:

Twin Cities:  1,019 miles Olympic Trials:  1,163 miles Pittsburgh:  1,147 miles

At the end of the day, I will have only run 16 fewer miles than I did in the 3 months leading up to the Trials.  That doesn’t tell the whole story, though.  That training window includes a 3 week period where I was dealing with a hamstring issue.  If we look at the final 6 weeks of training, the mileage totals are slightly different:

Twin Cities:  505 miles Olympic Trials: 554 miles Pittsburgh:  565 miles

I have definitely come on stronger the last few weeks whereas in past training, I have struggled during taper to have motivation to run.  At the end of the day, training and racing only produces more data, so it will be interesting for me to see how the increased mileage plays a role in the outcome.  

I’m in the process of reading Deena Kastor’s Let Your Mind Run.  This book could not have come out at a better time for me.  I like to read during taper.  Before Twin Cities, I read Once a Runner.  Before the Trials, I read Suzy Favor Hamilton’s Fast Girl.  

Deena’s positivity has helped me look at the last few months and reframe them.  At one point I truthfully wondered why I was bothering to run this marathon when it didn’t seem like I was going to be in my best shape.  I will be the first to admit that I struggle at times with perfectionism when it comes to running (seriously nothing else though.  sometimes I wonder how I graduated college).  Something that tremendously helped was when my coach reminded me this race doesn’t have to be perfect - it just has to be good, I’m already a pretty damn good runner.  

Deena’s book inspired me to reframe a lot of the negative thoughts that have been holding me back lately.  For instance, I have used one word to describe this training cycle:  setback.  I’m pretty sure I have uttered that word more times in the last 4 months than I have in my entire life.  Instead of thinking about the things that have hindered progress, why not think of them as things I have overcome?  At the end of the day, I have run a shit ton of miles after dealing with:

-a calf injury -a plantar injury -a hamstring injury -a badly infected blister -a couple illnesses -a post-tib issue -the worst case of eczema I’ve experienced in my 20′s -unmet expectations at races  -new food sensitivities that undoubtedly contributed to the previous 8 items on this list

I prevailed despite all of these things.  What’s so hard about a marathon after your toe doubles in size because it is infected and is so painful  you have to drive barefoot in the middle of winter because your shoe is applying too much painful pressure on your toe when you hit the gas pedal? 

Deena’s book is also helping me see the other things I do - the things that are easy to forget - that make me a better athlete.  Joe Vigil has a quote that there is no such thing as overtraining, just underresting.  I love that.  This training cycle I have made it a point to:

-nap at least 60 minutes every day  -eliminate foods that I know my body cannot tolerate (science is cool) -get a massage every 2 weeks -set up mental game sessions as needed -have increased contact with my coach -make dietitian appointments as needed -make visualization a priority -do daily yoga instead of one session per week -more core/lifting -practice race day [this training cycle I made it a point to practice getting up at 4 AM before a couple long run workouts so that I wasn’t in shock when I had to do it for the race]

There is no guarantee that any of these things are going to make a better runner; but, there was something that Des Linden said leading up to Boston that spoke to me:  I could live with myself if I didn’t win Boston.  I decided I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.  (referring to her training)

If I don’t reach my ultimate goal of breaking 2:30 in the marathon, I’ll live.  But, as long as I am training I will have a hard time not doing everything in my power that I know will contribute to success.  I often think of my mom telling me in high school (when I was half-assing my assignments) “if it’s a job worth doing, it’s a job worth doing well.”    

The past week of workouts has been good.  I’m not sure where the notion came from that taper weeks are easy.  In reality, the lower mileage gives way to more intensity.  Here’s what my week looked like:

M:  off (first dasy off in 6 weeks!) T: AM:  4, PM:  12 mi total w/ 6 x mi @ marathon effort ending with a mile at half marathon effort W:  AM:  10, PM:  6 Th:  AM:  6 x 400 m @ mile race pace w/ full recovery, PM:  7 F:  AM:  10, PM:  5 Sa:  AM:  8, PM:  5 Su:  AM:  16 mi cut down finishing in 5:44; PM:  4 mi shake out

Total for the week was 92, and I’m really happy with how my legs felt during that cut down.  I remember that workout before Twin Cities and crawling through the shake out later in the day because my legs were trashed.  The biggest difference I have noticed during the past 4 or 5 weeks is that my legs are recovering really well.

Today was my last big workout, and it was actually one I have never done before!  The plan was 3 x 15:00 at threshold pace.  While there is little fitness to be gained at this point, I’m so glad I did this workout because it was a huge mental win.  

I went to the tow path for the workout, which is a crushed limestone path in Indy.  I figured 15:00 should be roughly 2.5 miles.  My plan was to do a 2.5 mi stretch, then a 2.5 mi loop through a neighborhood, then the 2.5 mi stretch back.  I did not account for how much rain we have had lately, and the tow path was a muddy, sloppy, puddle-dotted mess.  We also have had pretty cold weather, so today was quite the contrast with 60 degrees and 100% humidity / light rain.  Fun fact:  I have run in a sports bra and shorts once this year, and that was in February.  

My superhero running strength is that I’m really good at not going out too fast, and at progressively picking up the pace in workouts as I go.  Actually, when this doesn’t happen I generally know something might be wrong with me.  Today was not that day.  

My first mile of my first 15:00 was 5:49.  This is not my threshold pace on a perfect weather day, and it’s definitely not my threshold pace on wet, muddy, soggy ground when I am slipping and sliding everywhere.  My second mile was 5:46.  I wound up covering 2.57 mi in 15:00 minutes.  

My fatal flaw as a runner is that, when I see these splits, I feel as though I must continue getting faster.  not the point of this workout.  So, I convinced myself that I needed to slow down.  

My first mile was 5:52 of the second 15:00 tempo.  Honestly, my legs felt like garbage.  I was running through a neighborhood on completely soaked streets trying to make turns and I ran way too hard in my previous effort.  My quads felt like crap.  My 2nd mile was 6:00.  I panicked.  Quads are heavy + slowing down.  When was the last time I felt this way?  Oh, right, when I was anemic in the fall.  At 12:00 I just stopped running.  I contemplated calling it a day and jogging back to my car.  Actually, I convinced myself that was what I should do.  If my quads are heavy, why add extra strain?  Then I spiraled.  What if I feel this way during the marathon and just walk off the course?  

Finally I decided I was going to finish the workout no matter what, even if it meant running 6:30 pace.  I took a couple minutes to regroup and decided the final tempo would be 18:00, to account for the 3 that I missed when I cut the second one short.  I would start slow (closer to my actual threshold pace), and no matter what stick this one out.  First mile:  6:07.  Much better.  Second mile:  6:02.  3rd mile:  5:55.  So, I made a workout that wasn’t supposed to be hard much more difficult than it had to be.  

But, I’m happy that it happened that way.  It is very rare for me to have a bad day in practice.  It’s even rarer for me to stop.  I don’t get a lot of opportunities to practice bringing it back around and making the day successful.  Having at least one experience like this going into the marathon is important, because if there is anything we’ve learned in the past 10 days, it’s that you can think you’re going to drop out of a race at half way, then find yourself becoming the first American in 33 years to win the Boston marathon.  

[gobigorgohome2016]

Cherry Blossom, Turning 30, and Peak Week

After a huge 10 day stretch of running, the bulk of my training is over and it’s time to taper.  

Honestly, there were times during this training cycle I wasn’t sure I was going to make it to this point. In many ways, this cycle has been one of the most frustrating, but also most rewarding.  I had an opportunity to speak with a high school track team on Wednesday and one of the girls asked me what I think about when running hurts or is hard. I think about this moment:  the one when you know you didn’t have an easy road, but you still succeeded.

(I did not make this.  I found it online and saved it to my computer and can’t find the source now)

In 3 weeks I will toe the line at Pittsburgh for my second PGH marathon and 5th marathon in total.  It is crazy to think that I’m still a relative newbie to this distance.  Last week I had my final tune up, the Cherry Blossom 10 miler in Washington DC.  That story, however, starts after Tobacco Road.

While I was sitting in the Atlanta airport during the world’s worst layover, I had a long conversation with my coach.  It was painfully obvious that I wasn’t where I needed to be.  The beginning and middle of this training cycle were riddled with small setbacks:  calf problem, foot problem, hamstring problem, post-tib problem.  All these random soft tissue injuries were strange, especially when I am not generally injury prone.  I had missed quite a few workouts due to these aches and pains.  In fact, leading up to Tobacco Road I had done 3 workouts that month (two the week of the race which don’t count because you can’t gain fitness in less than 10 – 14 days).  

I also knew something was up with my immune system.  

Growing up, I had TERRIBLE eczema.  I am still scarred by reactions from friends and teachers to what the spots were on my legs / arms / wrists.  Once I got to grad school, though, the eczema completely went away.  This past winter I had the worst flare up I have had since maybe high school.  I was able to manage my flare ups with Soothe (#shamelesspromotion) but not prevent new eczema spots from forming.  I was also itchy all the time, to the point that my quality of life was severely suffering (especially at night).  

I chatted with my dietitian and I decided to do another Mediator Release Test, which I had done after the Trials in 2016.  Essentially, proteins from 170 different foods were introduced to samples of my blood and my immune system’s response was measured (in the form of mediator release, meaning how much histamine, for example, was released in response to a particular protein).  The last time this test was performed I was sensitive to soy, corn, black pepper, chicken, garlic, cantaloupe, and strawberries (to name a few).  The good news was that my test results showed that I am no longer reactive to many of the foods from last time.  The bad news?  Wheat, tea, beef, turkey, cane sugar, almonds, peanuts, etc. are now triggers. 

 I don’t have a good reason for why this happened.  My dietitian has suggested I see a specialist, which now that I have health insurance I will probably do.  Both of my parents have autoimmune disease, with my dad specifically having a couple intestinal disorders, so the chances are very high that I do (or will) as well.  Having multiple food sensitivities is an indicator of autoimmune disease, so it would probably be good to know at some point.  Fortunately, many symptoms can be managed with a proper (for me) diet, and I feel very fortunate that I am extremely in-tune with my body and can recognize when something is amiss.

I received these results on March 30th and started my new diet immediately.  The transition into a limited-ingredient diet was not as difficult as the first time around.  In fact, I have mostly found it easier to have restrictions because it makes grocery shopping and meal planning a hell of a lot easier.  The worst part is that I am back to counting calories and macronutrients because I have to be very careful to ensure I am eating enough and fueling myself properly.  I admit that tracking everything I eat takes a little bit of joy out of mealtime.  As was the case last time, the first week of the new diet made me feel pretty lousy.  You know when you taper and your body feels like crap because it is healing? That’s the same principle with your immune system.  In fact, the worse you feel the better, because it means that you are fully healing. Fortunately, running the past couple weeks was the only time I felt great.  Otherwise I felt Irritable, hungry, nauseaus, fatigued, etc.  

The good news?  My stubborn eczema has finally cleared.  I am sleeping through the night again.  All of my soft tissue aches and pains are gone. I just ran my second highest mileage ever and I’m holding myself back not to go out and do a shake out right now to make it my highest mileage week.  In short, I’m feeling pretty damn good.

To be honest, I don’t have a whole lot to say about my race at Cherry Blossom.  This tune-up was very much a see-what-you-can-run-on-tired-legs sort of run. On the surface, I wasn’t thrilled with my time (57:35), but when I dug deeper there were a lot of positives.  I started competitively with the pack and went through the first mile in 5:45, so I really didn’t slow down.  The day was not ideal, with starting line temps of 33 degrees and a 12 – 16 mph wind.  I feel very strong right now, but not very fast, which is exactly where I would expect myself to be considering that was a 100 mile week and I didn’t cut any mileage. 

(Photo taken from RunWashington facebook page)

This is what my day before the race looked like:

-10 AM run to the national mall, stop at host hotel to pick up my bib, run back to my hotel -11:30 – 11:50, rest for a few min -11:50:  run a mile to brunch for a volee meet up -1:00:  run 1.5 mi from brunch to Whole Foods to buy dinner -2:00:  walk back to hotel -2:30 – 3:45:  rest -3:45:  run to host hotel for tech meeting -4:30:  run back to my hotel, make dinner, watch Trading Spaces, go to bed for 4:00 AM wake up

So yeah, not exactly the type of day I will have before my marathon 😊

Otherwise, my time indicates I am in better shape than I was 4 weeks out from my PR marathon, in Twin Cities.  In 2015, I ran a half marathon in 1:19:18 as my tune up.  I know I could not have averaged 5:45s for 10 miles in cold and wind at that point.  

After the race I ran a long cool down and a shake out later in the day to hit 24 miles.  

My legs felt surprisingly great on Monday, which was good news because this week was my peak week. Here is what my last 10 days of training has looked like:

4/4:  16 mi (4 AM, 12 PM w/ 10 x 1k in a windy snow storm averaging 3:25) 4/5:  16 mi (6 AM, 10 PM) 4/6:  10 miles 4/7:  10+ miles 4/8:  10 mi race / 24 miles total / 100 mi for week 4/9:  10 mi (6 AM / 4 PM) 4/10:  16 mi total w/ 800 m repeats in evening (4 AM / 12 PM) 4/11:  14 mi (10 AM / 4 PM) 4/12:  16 mi (4 AM, 12 PM w/ 8 miles of 2:00 hard, 1:00 easy) 4/13:  15 mi (10 AM, 5 PM) 4/14:  12 mi (8 AM, 4 PM) 4/15:  24 mi @ DePauw 

That gives me a total of 108 for the week.  In fact, these last 4 weeks have been my highest, most consistent string ever.  In the past I have finished that last long run and thought, “OMG I NEED TAPER NOW.”  I don’t feel that way this time around.  Each training cycle is just an opportunity to gather data.  Who knows?  Maybe having so many setbacks early on was a blessing in disguise and gave me an opportunity to build a massive base before my body was ready for speed work?

------

Besides last week being peak week, I also turned 30 on Friday.  Dave was out of town, which means I held down the fort, had an hour+ of walking the dogs every day, and had to manage everything that Dave usually takes care of when he helps me around the house.  Given that I was able to do everything and still feel like I have energy is a really great sign that my immune system is getting back to normal.

Just as an aside, a lot of people wonder what I CAN eat.  Here are a few sample meals from the past week:

Dinner the night before Cherry Blossom: -millet -pumpkin -salmon -hard apple cider

Breakfast before Wednesday morning’s 10 miler: -coffee -muesli with Fage Total Greek yogurt (whole milk), frozen raspberries, and honey -RXbar (maple sea salt) after the run

Lunch in between runs on Saturday: -millet -sauteed kale and asparagus -scallops fried in butter

Dinner after 24 miler: -brown rice -roasted vegetables (parsnips, kale, zucchini, Brussels sprouts) -8 oz of roasted Halibut -dark chocolate bar

I’m definitely not deprived of good food.

----

So, I’m 30 now.  I guess this isn’t as weird as I thought it would be.  If you had asked me 10 years ago what I envisioned life to look like at this point, I’m honestly not sure what I would have said, just like I can’t picture my life 10 years from now, either.  Here is what I can say about the difference between 20 and 30:

-I know how to cook scallops -I can afford to buy scallops -I’m far more confident -I’m far less injury prone (I spent my 20th birthday on crutches with a femoral stress fracture) -I have a better idea of what I don’t want to do in life -I have much better skin -I still want to go to culinary school -I’m faster now -I still can’t bite my tongue -I still haven’t applied myself to anything other than running -At 20 I thought having a career and sticking with it was the way to go, today I cannot picture myself ever working for anyone other than myself -I have more dogs

Here’s a fun picture of me on my 30th birthday vs. me on my 20th birthday.  I apparently still love blue dresses.

My birthday itself was a lot of fun.  I was pretty salty all week that Dave was gone and wouldn’t be back until Friday evening, especially when I threw him an extravagant surprise party for his 30th.  We were supposed to go to Girl and the Goat in Chicago to celebrate, but after finding out about my new food sensitivities, I didn’t think I would have fun. We will probably reschedule for our wedding anniversary.  

When Dave got back from Atlanta we went out to dinner at Union 50.  We had French fries with beer cheese as an appetizer, and I had the King Salmon entrée with shrimp risotto, chili buerre blanc, and grilled asparagus.  The worst part about having a wheat sensitivity is that beer is out of the question right now, but I did have a very good dry cider from Ash & Elm.  The waitress gave us free champagne and I met someone who was also celebrating his 30th birthday at the restaurant!  (Apparently no one besides me thinks this is noteworthy)

Afterward we went to New Day Meadery and I had a cherry mead.  I forgot that I don’t like mead (too sweet) and should definitely stick with ciders.  We followed that up with an espresso at my favorite coffee shop, Thirsty Scholar, and ended the night with an episode of Santa Clarita Diet on Netflix.  

No, my birthday wasn’t an extravagant #dirty30 bash, but it was everything I really wanted.  I ran with a friend bright and early Friday morning, treated myself to a Whole Foods splurge afterwards, had a 2 hour (sports) massage, and got to spend quality time with Dave for the first time in weeks. I received a couple TJ Maxx gift cards and had a whole lot of fun walking through the store and throwing everything in the cart that I wanted (this equated to a pair of shoes, maple syrup, cacao nibs, turmeric, an 8 x 8 baking pan, and essential oils.  Not sure what this says about me).  

Today during my long run I came face to face with a coyote.  While this startled me, the coyote turned and ran away immediately.  Later in the run, I strode past 3 turkey vultures who could not have given fewer flying fucks about me, even though they were perched close enough to the trail that I could have reached out and touched them.  They looked at me as if to say, “I’m just waiting for you to die so that I can eat you.”  I don’t know why this stuck with me, but I thought to myself, I don’t want to be the coyote that talks a big game but runs away afraid.  I want to be the turkey vulture, constantly observing, adjusting, scavenging.  I don’t know if this is a good metaphor for life or not, but if I could make one change in the next 10 years, maybe it will be to give fewer fucks and scavenge more resources.  

[gobigorgohome2016]

Fitness Check: Tobacco Road Half Marathon

Race weekends are so weird. I will never understand how time can move so quickly, yet so slowly, in the span of 48 hours.  

Today I raced the Tobacco Road Half Marathon in Cary, North Carolina.  Everything about this weekend seemed to embody the dichotomy of fast and slow.  

I arrived in NC early Friday afternoon, around 11 AM.  I think this race was first on my radar because my teammate, Andie Cozzarelli, lives in Raleigh and mentioned it to me the last time she raced the Indy Monumental Marathon.  My main motivation for choosing races this year was to choose ones where I could win money.

In the past chasing cash has scared me, because I have been afraid of the gnawing anger / frustration / embarrassment / resentment when the race doesn’t go the way I had hoped, and I don’t win the money I had anticipated.  There is also a factor where trying to win money, and then losing it, makes it feel more real, and scary in a way.  Which is something I need to confront.  

Friday was a lot of fun. Andie and I went for a run, watched approximately 30,000 episodes of Friends, then went out to dinner at an Italian restaurant in downtown Raleigh.  I had possibly the best seafood risotto I have ever tasted, paired with a delicious red wine.  Afterwards we watched more Friends.  What I love about my Haute Volee teammates is that they have pretty seamlessly filled the gap that was left after college during racing weekends.  Whenever Andie and I are together we run, do a little bit of work, watch some tv, eat, and talk to the point of exhaustion – just like my college days with my roommates.

Saturday I joined Andie for the end of her long run, then we headed over to the cutest coffee shop I have ever seen for a volee meet up.  A friend of mine who I hadn’t seen since high school lives in Raleigh, and we got together for lunch at a Japanese restaurant.  I ordered pho, solely for the reason that this time last year I went out to dinner with the ZAP Fitness team in Jacksonville and ate pho before running a PR.  

After parting ways with my friend, I took an uber to my hotel.  One of very few perks of Dave traveling all the time is that he can hook me up with Mariott hotels when I am out of town.  I was able to have a suite with a kitchen.  By the time I checked in at 2 PM, I only had 3 hours before the expo closed and I had to pick up my packet (no race day packet pick up).  I still needed another short run, and the expo was 2.5 miles away, so I naturally ran there.  Except, there was no sidewalk.  So I ran on the shoulder of a super busy and scary road.  #fail

By the time I got back to my hotel, I was pretty exhausted.  Even though I had really done nothing in the past 24 hours, I also felt like I had done everything.   I still needed to find some groceries, because I had already eaten the pre-race breakfast I had packed.  #secondfail

Grocery stores were really far away, but, Instacart exists in Cary!  Many struggles and 45 minutes of indecision later, I finally place my order for 18 larabars (literally), yogurt, two blood oranges, a box of instant oatmeal, 3 bananas, a beer, a dark chocolate bar, two kombuchas, and a small carton of orange juice.  Why did I order 18 larabars?  Well, I either could choose to pay $10 for delivery, or reach a certain threshold for free delivery.  18 larabars it was.  

I watched Loyola upset Tennessee, then excitedly got ready for bed because I was SO TIRED.  I had no idea the race was at 7 AM, which meant a 4 AM wake up call.  I turned off the lights at 9, but then COULDN’T FALL ASLEEP.  Normally, sleeping the night before a race is not a problem for me.  I wasn’t even thinking about the race, I just couldn’t fall asleep once I turned out the lights.  First the room was too hot.  Then I had to switch around my pillows.  Then I had to go to the bathroom.  Then the room was too cold.  Then every single person who walked down the hallway sounded like an elephant.  Then I started my period and was having cramps (seriously, my last 10 of 14 races I have started my period within 24 hours of the race.  It’s bizarre).  I remember looking at the clock at 2 AM and thinking to myself, just get 90 minutes of sleep.  

Even though I didn’t get a good night’s rest, I woke up feeling pretty good.  I had my breakfast and watched MTV.  I’ve had to give up coffee before races because I don’t think it does anything for me.  Instead, I drink green tea.  I packed a hand-made tea bag of roasted green tea that I bought in San Francisco for my morning cuppa.  

My friend, Tim, picked me up at 5 AM to head over to the start.  You know what’s cool about racing competitively?  You accumulate friends all across the country who are willing to do things like drive out of their way to pick you up.  

The next part is pretty standard:  talk with your runner friends while waiting for the start, use the porta potty 30 times, run warm up, do drills, take off clothes, pee in the woods because the porta potty line is too long, do some strides, get nervous, gun goes off, fall into rhythm.

Funny story:  the Tobacco Road is a crushed gravel trail. Basically, this race weekend was the most type B weekend of my life.  I had no idea it was a trail race because I didn’t read the website.  Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have done the race had I realized, but fortunately “trail” meant a nice crushed limestone / hard-packed dirt, tree-lined path.  

The course elevation map looked hilly.  I thought the race was going to be hilly.  Then people told me, no!  the course if very fast and flat!  I have determined that when you have a race in your hometown, you decide it is either the hardest, hilliest race in the country, or the flattest and fastest. Well, this race was neither.  The first 2.5 miles (and subsequently the final 2.5 miles) were moderate rollers, while the middle miles on the tobacco trail were long, gradual inclines / declines.  There were a few areas that were more treacherous than others, but nothing worse than that random gravel path we had to run down at the Trials.  

My plan had been to start at 5:45 effort and make adjustments as necessary.  Fortunately we warmed up on the first mile of the course so I realized that 5:45 effort was going to be significantly slower, because of both the wind and the hill.  My first mile was ~5:52 (I think).  I had overheard eventual race winner talking on the line with someone and make plans to go for 73ish min.  My plan was to let her go, then reassess the situation at 4 miles and figure out what I needed to do to catch her.  Meanwhile, within the first mile it became apparent there was going to be a struggle for second.  A woman was right with me, and surging hard to try and drop me.  

photo cred:  Andie.  Taken ~2.5 mi into the race before the wheels fell off

A big goal of mine this year has been to compete more.  To be honest, I don’t love this situation.  I am very comfortable running alone.  I don’t love to do battle at the time (of course if I come out on top I’ll tell you otherwise).  So, every time she made a surge, I went with her and then put in a surge of my own.  I did this 4 or 5 times before dropping her for good, around the 6 mile mark. Splits that I remember:  3 miles, 17:30, 4 miles:  23:04; 5 miles:  28:50, 6.6 miles:  38:00. The way back was a death march of sorts. I’m not sure what happened. Certainly the way back had more long, gradual climbs, which are not as easy for me as steep hills (they never have been; I think it’s just the way my body is built and the fact that I grew up training in the dunes).  Also, I definitely thought the wind was in my face on the way out, but it turns out it was most certainly in my face after the turnaround (there was talk of a shifting wind conspiracy.  I would have to agree).  

Something I noticed during the race was that I was far less concerned about where I was on the course because my only goal in the short term was to stay in 2nd place. I knew that I was gaining on first, but I was also on the struggle bus myself.  There was a very real feeling at mile 8 of just get through 1k at a time.  

Final finishing time: 1:17:43.  

Am I happy with that? No.  To be honest, I am pretty disappointed.  But, I also realize I am incredibly fortunate to be able to say that a sub-78 minute half marathon is a “disappointment,” especially when I earned enough money to cover a student loan payment, a car payment, and a couple weeks of groceries.  It’s also a matter of perspective.  When I was training for my PR marathon, I ran a 5 mile road race 7 weeks before Twin Cities. I ran 28:45 and was beyond ecstatic with a new PR.  Today, I went through 5 miles in 28:50 and still had 8.1 miles to go.  7 weeks out from the trials I ran 1:17:19 on a course that was flat and didn’t have gravel.  To quote Brene Brown, the middle is messy, but that’s where the magic happens.  

I have had quite a few setbacks recently.  It’s hard to acknowledge setbacks, but also not allow them to let you feel like you’re spiraling out of control.   

My coach reminded me today that I strive way too hard for perfection, when all I have to be is good.

Regardless, I asked Coach Dean if I could set up an appointment with him this week, because I think a mental game tune-up never hurts.  

Even though I consider myself a highly Type A person, I did a whole lot of Type B things this weekend:

-have no idea I was running a trail race

-have no idea what time the trail race started (there was a point in time where I banned myself from running 7 AM races because it requires waking up at 4 AM…)

-wait to get my bib number until the last possible minute, then get stuck running down a highway

-forget to grab my gels when I went to the starting line

The great thing, though, is that none of this bothered me.  I think there was a point in time where I would have freaked the f*ck out if any one of these things happened, let alone all of them.  

So, what would I have done differently?  Absolutely nothing.  77:43 is where I’m at right now.  It’s not the worst place in the world to be, that’s for sure.  I wish I was faster, but all I can do about that is keep working and making the right investments into my training.  

[gobigorgohome2016]

Calm the F*ck Down

I’m not sure when I made the transition from being a somewhat laissez faire runner to an overly-intense one, and to be honest, and I’m not sure I like it.  

The last 10 days or so I have been consumed with the arbitrary numbers in my training log.  My *plan* had been to hit 100 a few weeks ago and sustain that mileage for the next 6 weeks of my training.  Best laid plans, amiright?

After a workout last Tuesday that went far better than expected [4 x 2 mile on hills @ MP, felt fairly effortless for the times we were running], I’ve hit a rough patch.  Two Wednesdays ago I developed a sore throat and fatigue, which stuck with me through Saturday.  I capped off the week with a great 22 mile run on Sunday, finishing with 90 miles (versus the 100 I had planned).  All in all, to only take a 10% hit in mileage when you come up sick during the week isn’t bad AT ALL, but I was still annoyed.

Fast forward to this week. At the end of my 22 miler on Sunday my post-tib tendon was pretty cranky.  I had done my run on a hilly crushed limestone loop and had really focused on bombing each and every downhill since I had missed out on my Thursday workout.  While my post-tib was tender Sunday night, the pain was completely gone when I woke up on Monday.  However, it reappeared in the last half mile of my Monday run, far worse than it had been the previous day.  Sigh.

Tuesday I did a shake out and determined that I needed to take the rest of the day off.  I tried to bike but was experiencing a lot of pulling on the area, so I did some foot yoga and upper body lifting instead.  

Wednesday I did my normal 10 miles and, while I could tell things were feeling better, they weren’t perfect. The pain moved around during the run and my foot fell asleep at one point, but by the end of the 80 minutes I felt fine.  I was hopeful this was the end of it!  When I headed out for my 2nd run of the day, my post-tib was painful again and I ultimately cut the run short and went home.  (Funny that a 12 mile day can feel like a failure.  #Perspective).

I can tell this problem is definitely muscular, but I also know well enough not to run when something is making me limp.  My lower leg feels like I have some sort of entrapment going on, especially because my ankle mobility seems limited.  I already had a massage scheduled for Friday, so I’m anxiously counting down until 11 AM tomorrow.  In the meantime, I’m in a shitty mood.

First, there is the irrationality.  This week had been my “line in the sand” week.  From this point forward, everything was going to be perfect. #Fail on two counts.  One, perfection doesn’t exist.  I have NEVER had a “perfect,” no-runs-were-missed, no-pain-was-felt training cycle.  Actually, the closest I have ever come to perfection was my junior year of high school. I was overly proud that I had run 100+ days in a row.  That year I also underperformed, badly.

When I’m feeling frustrated I love to go through my training log and look at previous setbacks.  A couple months ago I thought my week of hamstring pain was going to be the end of this training cycle.  I was already scheduling PRP appointments in my head.  Leading up to my PR marathon, I strained my calf 8 weeks out and had a similar 10 day stretch of missed workouts and lower-than-anticipated mileage.  Leading up to the half championships last year, I had quite a few things pop up, including shitty travel plans that resulted in a 40 mile week during a crucial training time and some scary foot pain that needed a few days of recovery.

Sometimes I’m tempted to lie in my log and not acknowledge days off.  Since I’m the only person who reads it, this tactic would solely be for myself and my state of mind.  If I tell myself I trained and I can force myself to believe it, then when I look back later I won’t have a shred of doubt about my fitness.  But that doesn’t actually help anyone, let alone future me.

Second irrational fear: In the fall, as soon as I started saying, “this week sucked, next week will be better,” everything fell apart.  Obviously, I am not dealing with the same issues I had in the fall, but it’s hard to shake feelings of similarity until you get past them. So many people want to know how to be mentally tough and here is my answer:  you don’t develop mental toughness by encountering a setback and using mental toughness tricks to avoid the way you feel.  You become mentally tough by having bad experiences and learning from them.

For instance, I know that my mental toughness is my best trait as a runner.  I also know that, while I’m a cranky mess right now, going out for a run is not productive.  Staying home and watching another episode of Switched at Birth on Netflix is going to do much more for my ultimate goals than running for the sake of running – and I’m okay with that (in the grand scheme of things).  Being mentally tough isn’t not having any negative thoughts, it’s knowing how to handle them (and if you don’t know how to handle them, allowing yourself to experience uncomfortable things and learn from them).

So, this week is going to be an unplanned down week.     Here’s a fun fact:  I just looked through my online log.  For the past 3 years I have had a small injury or illness crop up 8.5 weeks out from race day EVERY SINGLE time!  Weird, but this also makes me feel oddly better about my current situation.  

When I was angry this morning after waking up, I asked myself two questions in my journal:

What is the worst case scenario?

Something is wrong, bone-wise, and I will have to choose a fall marathon instead. [unlikely]

What is the best case scenario?

I take today off, my body heals, a dip in mileage allows me to absorb my recent training and to rebuild before these next 8 weeks of training.  This down week helps me have a fast race next week [significantly more likely]

I’m racing the Tobacco Road Half Marathon a week from Sunday.  I’m looking forward to a good fitness check and having a chance to run some hills.  My training has been all about the hills during this cycle because I no longer live in a hilly area and I want to make sure I am ready.  I also confirmed yesterday that I am in the elite field for the Cherry Blossom 10 miler in DC, 4 weeks from Sunday.  I have never been to Washington DC, so I’m excited about that!

Overall, even if this week is a wash, I’m GOING TO BE FINE.  The more that I reflect, the  more that I’m realizing I have always been a super high-strung runner.  I think I went through a phase in grad school where I pretended that days off didn’t bother me because I had so little control over what I would have time for in my training.  

Two things that help me when I’m being irrational:  One, I think of an athlete that I admire (let’s use Meb in this instance), and think about what I would say if he came to me 8 weeks out from race day and told me that he was worried because he took an unplanned down week to tend to an ache or pain.  I would think he was crazy.  

Second, I love to write this shit out.  Now that I’m nearing the end of what I have to say, I’m looking back and thinking, seriously?  Calm the fuck down.  Was this worth 1500 words when you have homemade soup and bread you could be making (and eating) instead?  

I want to not love that this is who I am – someone that puts forth way too much mental energy about tiny things when really, I should find a way to embrace not having to run in the cold and snow today.  But, my ability to place insignificant details under a microscope is also a good thing.  For instance, I just realized that apparently, I should take a mandatory down week 9 weeks out from every race!  I’m going to embrace this.  

My mantra for the year was #KnowYourWorth, which is also something that I think about when I’m cranky about running.  One, I am worth so much more than a day of running, and two, as a runner I am worth way more when I am healthy than when I am hurt.  

But still, le sigh.  A day off in time saves 9, right?

[gobigorgohome2016]

On Regaining Confidence

By the end of 2017, my confidence as a runner was at an all-time low.  I know that sounds dramatic, but for the first time in quite a while I was second guessing most of what I was doing.  Was running at this level even the right decision for me anymore? My car had just broken down – this time for good – and I hadn’t run the times I knew I was capable of running since…January 2016?  Could I even justify the run bum lifestyle anymore?  

I contemplated getting a real job and seeing what would happen if I planned running around work. The problem is, I’m still not sure what I want to be when I grow up, other than a professional runner. Getting a job for the sake of getting a job didn’t seem like it would be productive, even if it meant more financial security.

The fact that my body wasn’t super cooperative the first couple months I came back to serious training didn’t help my confidence, either.  I returned to running way too quickly.  My calves hurt every day.  Eventually I developed foot pain because my left calf was so tight.  Every single run was painful for a good 4 or 5 weeks.  After that finally went away, I had the hamstring issue.  I also reached a point where my clothes weren’t exactly fitting the way they normally do, which didn’t help where my mind was at, either.  

Then, something happened. To address the fact that my clothes weren’t fitting, I saw my nutritionist.  I wanted an honest assessment:  was my immune system acting up again?  Was I simply out of shape?  Was I eating properly?  I was feeling like my life was out of control, and I desperately wanted to regain focus. I didn’t expect what my nutritionist was going to tell me.  

In her expert opinion, I was the healthiest she had ever seen me.  My body seemed to be absorbing nutrients.  Many of the symptoms I normally have related to food sensitivities were gone.  My hair, skin, nails, etc. looked better than ever.  Everything seemed to be on track.  That evening, instead of going into my tempo run thinking, “I’m out of shape,” I went into the workout saying to myself, “I’m HEALTHY.”  The workout went far better than anticipated.

Now that I’m looking back, it seems like that one encounter was very important in the grand scheme of this training cycle.  The way I was looking at myself changed entirely.  The way I looked at my fitness changed, too.  

Regaining confidence is a process, and one that isn’t going to happen overnight.  Sometimes, though, one simple thing can set into motion a series of changes.  Here are other observations I have made this winter in regard to regaining my confidence:

Acknowledge How You Feel

For a long time, I tried to deny to myself and others that I was feeling this way.  Eventually this led to anger.  When someone asked me about racing, or goals, or training, I became grouchy.  I didn’t want to see the racing results other people were posting.  I didn’t want to think about my obligations regarding running. I was spiralling.  What I really needed to do was just say to myself I wasn’t feeling very confident with where I was and come up with a plan of action. Taking that first step helped me identify things I could change until I was feeling like myself again, namely, limiting time on social media, which ultimately leads to comparisons.  

Affirmations

I’m a journaler.  I love to make lists.  I love my bullet journal.  A mainstay list in my journal is affirmations.  Whenever I write one down, I always feel this good feeling in my stomach, like the opposite of nervous butterflies.  When I’m not feeling confident I have a hard time with the affirmations, but they are something I try to continue no matter what because I know they have a positive effect on me.  

Make a Change

My coach and I have a fairly hands-off coach / athlete relationship, which works most of the time.  In general, I text him when I have a question or when I have a really good workout.  I tend to omit the bad, which isn’t really a good thing.  After my second totally preventable setback this training cycle I decided I needed to make a change.  Now, I send him an email every Sunday in addition to whatever communication we have.  These weekly emails have been great, because having someone tell me something as simple as “good job” is good for me, and he keeps me from doing something stupid.  

Know that Confidence is All-Encompassing

The cool thing about confidence is that it can come from anywhere.  For me, having confidence in one area of my life leads to confidence in running.  The problem is that I forget about this phenomenon.

I feel most confident when I take risks.  It took me taking a risk last week for me to finally figure that out, though.  Last Friday I became a consultant for Rodan + Fields, a premium skincare company. I texted a friend to tell her about my new venture, and I told her that I was simultaneously terrified and excited. She replied, “That seems to be where you thrive.”

Mind. Blown.

She was totally right. My best races have been ones I was half terrified / half excited to race (and, in retrospect, probably the reason why I race significantly better at national-level competitions than local). I have felt most fulfilled in life when I do scary things, like leave grad school, start a coaching business, start a writing business, or – now – doing social commerce.  I made this tweet earlier in the week, and I think people would be surprised to know that this is what I was referencing.  

The funny thing is that making this change in my work life carried over to my running life, as well. I felt excited and like I was able to tackle big things in running, all because I took a risk.  I’m not saying that everyone should run out and take a leave of absence from their job or start a new business venture, but I do think there is value in doing things that scare you.  I didn’t realize that something was missing and now I’m finding that I have a good chunk of that confidence back.

Revisit the Places that Broke You

When I look back at the fall, I think of one workout in particular that left me wondering if I would ever run fast again.  I had gone out to DePauw, which has a 10 mile loop of hilly crushed limestone.  I set out to do 2 mile repeats at marathon effort, but could barely muster 7:00 pace at a heart rate of 186.  That was the day I decided to end my season.

I went back to DePauw today for a 20 mile run.  Driving out there, I was nervous, but on a strange level.  I consciously KNEW that I was capable of running 20 miles out there. Sure, it was going to be hard because those runs always kick my ass due to the constant changes in topography.  But, I think on a metaphysical level my body remembered how broken I felt the last couple times I had been there.  Regardless, I knew I had to revisit DePauw because a) those hills are the best training I will have for the hilly Pittsburgh course, and b) I had to get revenge.  

Today’s run was tough. Dave and I also forgot our watches at home, which was probably a blessing in disguise.  I was able to just focus on running.  I am curious to know our pace, because I felt like I was able to get out there and just grind, leaving me with *just enough* fatigue and that good tired feeling  We treated ourselves to Tim Hortons afterwards and, you guys, Canadians have that shit figured out.  

Do Hard Things – but Ignore How You Do Them

You can’t go fast until you can go slowly.  Getting back your confidence shouldn’t be tied to a specific outcome other than busting the rust and getting out there.  The hardest workout is the first one, because it’s hard not to put your worth into how well it goes.  But, leave the watch at home if you need to.  Know that effort is effort.  Some of my best racing seasons started with ugly ugly first workouts.  

Control the Controllables

One of the best concepts I have learned (thanks Dean!!) is to control the controllables.  Instead of second guessing your training, get a coach. Instead of letting weather dictate if you can run, get a gym membership to have access to a treadmill.  Instead of worrying about why your clothes aren’t fitting you, see a nutritionist.  Instead of letting comparisons get you down, don’t log on to social media.  Instead of allowing yourself to feel less-than-confident about running, do something non-running related that makes you confident.  

The best (and also maybe worst) thing about confidence is that it’s like fitness.  It takes work, requires consistency, has no upper limit, people get jealous when you have a lot of it, and – best of all – is never lost forever.

[gobigorgohome2016]

We have Liftoff

(and I’m not just talking about Daredevil’s IPA, but we have that too)

Yesterday I ran my first quality workout since October 28th.  That’s right: other than strides, these legs have not turned over in 13 weeks.  Sometimes I think my life was better before Instagram, because if it weren’t for updates about people 2 hours post marathon crushing speed workouts already, I wouldn’t have even thought it was strange to go this long solely building base.  The truth is, post-collegiately, I never add in quality work until I hit 70 miles per week.  Why?  I like a long, slow build up and to know that my skeletal system is totally ready before I turn the screw.  Not only does this set me up for success in the long run (har har) but usually results in a first-workout-back that gives me confidence.

My first actual workout was *supposed* to be two weeks ago.  But, I was stupid.  After tweaking my hamstring I took 3 days easy and did a fartlek on the first day I felt 100%.  Every runner knows (and every runner has probably made the same mistake as me) that you really should wait at least a couple days after you are pain free before attempting quality.  Then I made another mistake:  after I felt initial hamstring pain during that fartlek, I kept going.  I got what I deserved, though – a 30 minute limp home in 40 degrees and rain.  

I finished that fartlek on a bicycle, and subsequent workout days have been 5 x 4:00 [:20 at max effort, :10 easy] on the bike.  Yesterday was my first go at feeling ground beneath my feet for a hard effort during this training cycle.  

If you’ve been following me, you know that I am running the Pittsburgh marathon in May, which is crazy hilly.  If I remember right, there is ~900 feet of climbing over the course of the race, with a couple steep hills.  I no longer have the luxury of training on hills like I did in Michigan City or Bloomington, which means I need to be creative.  

My workout yesterday was an 8 mile tempo at marathon effort.  Now, normally my first workout back would be flat.  But, I’m already at a disadvantage with living in Indy, so I would like to run as many long / hard efforts as possible on hills.  There is a 2 mile stretch in Eagle Creek Park (the “gate to gate”) that is constant up or down.  Regardless of the direction you run, you are guaranteed at least one steep uphill climb.  Many people use this stretch when training for Boston because it supposedly mimics the profile of that course.  

I had decided a few weeks ago that I would do all of my Pittsburgh-prep tempos on this stretch, running back and forth on it, and I wasn’t going to wuss out now.  Effort is effort, and I figured worst case scenario my times would look artificially slow.   [side note: I don’t recommend coming off of a hamstring problem and going straight to hills.  I felt confident doing this because I didn’t exactly have a hamstring strain – my massage therapist said the problem was lateral adhesion between my hamstring and IT band that was causing the pain, and I have been 10 days completely pain free.]

I expected to feel much more nervous for the workout than I did.  Ideally, I would have liked to have done the tempo first thing in the morning because I had a nutritionist appointment at 11:30.  However, it was 27 degrees outside and still a little icy, with the forecast showing 50 degrees and sun in the afternoon.  Sigh. Not ideal (especially for the first workout where you think about it all day!) but forcing a workout on ice would have been especially dumb.  

By the time I started the run it was 44 degrees with a 13 mph south wind, but enough sun that warranted sunglasses.  It was one of those weird days that is kinda cold, but not freezing.  I wore capris and a turtleneck long sleeve with a headband and gloves. I was too cold without the accessories, but too warm with them.  

My expectations for the workout were to feel good and maintain tempo effort, whatever pace that may be.  My first mile was 6:20, which I knew could go one of three ways:  I would either speed up, stay exactly consistent, or slow down.  You’re probably thinking, “duh.  Of course one of those 3 things is going to happen.  What else is even possible?”  Well, 6:20 for a tempo is a weird starting point for me.  It seemed the perfect fulcrum for either a really great day, or a disaster.  My tempos from the fall all saw a precipitous drop off in pace, and I really didn’t want to start at 6:20 and end at 6:40 because that would mean I have A LOT of work to do.  I also didn’t want to bank on the fact that I was going to be able to pick up the pace on the hills.  

Calm the fuck down and just run, I reminded myself.  The first workout is one you just have to get through, anyway.  

Second mile: 6:21.  Okay, I said to myself.  It’s going to be one of those days.  JUST. DEAL. WITH. IT.

But then, it got a whole lot better.  I turned around (after spotting a woman in a deep rose Wallace jacket!)  Oh shit, I thought, those first two miles were a bit slow despite the fact I was running with a pretty significant wind (and in the net downhill direction).  This is going to be interesting.  But…I got faster.  In fact, each mile was faster until I worked down to 6:07.  I felt STRONG.  My legs were eating up the hills.  When I turned around at the 4 mile mark, I felt like time had flown.  

Whenever my breathing got out of control from the uphills, I was able to easily relax my breathing (something that I couldn’t do in the fall).  I was able to let myself flow on the downhills and maintain even effort on the uphills. I got to the point where I was just zoning out.  

Worst part of the day was the 6 mile mark when I started to feel some tugging on my Achilles.  It didn’t seem serious, but definitely something that made me happy I had a massage scheduled for the next afternoon. When I finished the workout I stretched my Achilles and felt nothing…then I looked down and saw my heel covered in blood. Turns out my sock had fallen down and I had rubbed a spot above my heel raw.  Definitely better than Achilles tightness, and definitely happy with myself that I was in the zone enough not to really notice.  

Heading into the workout I had set myself up with a number of mental cues and games I could use when the going got tough.  During the cool down I realized I never had to use them.  It seemed like every time I looked at my watch, I had run farther than anticipated.  I finished the 8 mile tempo in fifty minutes even, meaning that I averaged exactly 6:15 pace.  So, yeah, it’s safe to say I’m pretty happy with where I’m at right now.  It’s funny how one good workout can change your entire perspective on your current fitness.  

[gobigorgohome2016]

Can You Have Too Much Fire?

In high school I had this awesome shirt that was meant to represent your zodiac element.  The shirt was red, spelled out “fire,” and listed all the traits of a fire sign:  passionate, larger than life personality, enthusiastic, quick temper, over achiever, direct, stubborn, attention seeking, etc.  For 16 year old me, IT WAS LIKE SOMEONE PUT MY ENTIRE LIFE ON A T-SHIRT. Mind blown.  

My favorite quote as a high school runner was, “if the fire is hot enough, it will burn anything.”  Later, I became really annoyed when I heard this quote used more often to describe metabolism, but to me, it meant that if you want something badly enough, you can make it happen on sheer willpower alone. [as a Speedway resident, I can no longer say willpower without thinking about the IndyCar driver, Will Power.  Sigh.]

As I’ve figured out since high school, my best trait is also, by far, my worst.  If there is anything I have learned these past couple weeks of 2018 is that if I was lacking fire in the fall, I have more than made up for that deficit now.  

When I sat down in December to look at the year ahead, there were some changes that I wanted to make. I love New Year’s resolutions.  I also love rules (ironic, yes?).  I’ve always been jealous of people who stick to things that make the planning side of their lives easier.  My friend does “Meatball Monday,” “Wok Wednesday,” “Soup Sunday,” etc.  How fun is that?  So, my resolutions have been thinly veiled by similar rules:

Makeup Monday (don’t let makeup go to waste, so use an item in my makeup drawer that gets the least amount of love)

Timer Tuesday: Instant Pot day.  The Instant Pot is an amazing  - yet slightly intimidating – machine.  Every Tuesday I make a different recipe from the cookbook that was included with the IP so that I can better learn how to use it.

Wakeup Wednesday:  I run with a friend on Wednesday mornings which means I get up at 5:30 AM.  We haven’t run together in FOREVER ( ☹ ) but I really like the routine so I wake up at 5:30 or 6:00 on Wednesdays, get my run out of the way, and then nap.  

Tulsi Thursday:  Tulsi tea is great for recovery, and I usually do my last hard workout of the week on Thursdays.  Tusli Thursday is just a reminder to be more mindful in my recovery.

Refresh Friday:  I hate being wasteful, especially with food, so on Fridays I use the oldest ingredients in my refrigerator / pantry.

Self-Care Saturday: self-explanatory

Seafood Sunday:  also self-explanatory (and cheating.  Dave and I have done seafood on Sunday for years).

Okay, what does this have to do with fire?  Not much. Other than to point out that I am a rule following fanatic at times.  

My other focus for the new year was running.  I know that I am not fit right now, and I want to do everything in my power to achieve my goals in May.  The number one thing I have been lacking since April is consistency, which hasn’t exactly been in my control.  As I was looking over the upcoming months, I made notes of how many miles I would like hit each week, how that would stack up against previous years, etc.

Fatal Error.

Two and a half weeks ago, I was out for a long run (18 miles, longest in quite a few months) and my hamstring tightened up towards the end, probably due to the ice and snow. Whatever, not a big deal.  Well, it turned out to be a decent-sized deal that left me cross training (so glad I found a trainer recently, and have Netflix again!).  Last week I only ran a total of 22 miles and had to cross train the rest of what was supposed to be a 75 mile week.  

My first instinct was panic. In fact, my coach received a ton of panicky texts from me.  I’m FINALLY getting my mileage back to where I want, and something dumb happens.  My second instinct was anger.  Why is my body failing me???? (It turns out I wasn’t alone.  Rebecca ran 10 of those miles with me and had the exact same hamstring trouble, so I felt better that my body wasn’t simply rejecting running).  

A month or two ago I wrote a post about all the things that people assumed about me when I was taking time off post-anemia, and how they wrong.  No, I wasn’t mad that I couldn’t run.  No, I wasn’t struggling not to run, etc.  Well, all of that bit me in the ass this week.  I was cranky, rage-y, and jealous of everyone out running.  I was crosstraining like crazy (something I rarely do).  I was irrationally mad at every person who posted a PR at the many fast races that happened over the weekend.  I drove myself crazy.

On the one hand, the return of this fire is such a good sign.  I’m ready to compete again.   I have the motivation to once more push my body to its limits before giving it a short reprieve and asking it to heal all the damage sustained during the winter and spring and perform its very best on race day.

But, that fire is a double edged sword.  Fire also menas a return of  my overly competitiveness, and making a conscious effort every day to remind myself to calm the fuck down.  

I was reading an interesting/terrifying article a few months back about psychopathic children. Psychopathic traits are genetic, and part of the reason they have not been removed from the gene pool via natural selection is that they can be good in small doses.  For instance, a surgeon needs to be cold and unfeeling when performing surgery.  Sometimes, however, a kid doesn’t win the genetic lottery and winds up more Jeffrey Dahmer than Doogie Howser (fun fact #37 of this post, my house in Milwaukee was only a couple blocks from where Jeffrey Dahmer committed his crimes).  

I often wonder if my innate fire is half psychopathic.  I forget sometimes that not everyone quits their career path to follow big dreams that have no guaranteed payout and 100% chance of pain, both emotional and physical.  It’s not even a question 48 weeks out of the year whether I want to have another beer or go to bed; whether I want to run every day or procrastinate until the end of eternity; whether or not I will eat my kale; whether or not I will train hard for a goal I want to accomplish years from now.  The fact that I have zero real obligations everyday and still train full time is nothing short of a miracle.  I have never been able to focus on anything the way that I have been able to focus on running.  

So, that usually means I need to come up with creative ways to redirect the flames.  Sometimes that means journaling my frustrations or writing in my blog.  Sometimes it means coming face to face with how out of shape I am and focusing the fire towards making better choices.  Sometimes when I’m trying to take a nap I stew over the things I have not yet accomplished, the things that I thought I would have achieved by now.  In this moment I think to myself, “yes.  There is such thing as too much fire.”  But, then I remind myself (usually in list form) that there are things I can control, and things I cannot.  If there is anything I have learned, it is that perseverance trumps just about everything else in running.  

I’ve already fallen off the consistency measure that I was hoping for in January with my low mileage week last week and cautious build this week.  I’m forcing myself to embrace flexibility, which means I’m becoming well acquainted with my bike in the basement.  My hamstring is feeling good again and I’m feeling a little bit silly that a couple days off had me plotting the changes I would have to make to my racing season.  I’ve relegated myself to the treadmill just to make sure I don’t strain my hammy with the snow and ice that is currently on the ground, just to be safe.  I’m hoping for an outdoor run on Friday.  If anything, the coals have been stoked because let’s be real:  there is nothing like a little setback to remind you just how hot your fire burns.

[gobigorgohome2016]

On Feeling Like a Runner Again

This week I had a welcome experience:  I realized I felt like a runner again.  

Sometimes when you are hurt, sad, or feeling unlike yourself you do not realize just how bad you felt until you have begun to feel better.  This week, I started noticing telltale signs:  8 - 10 mile runs felt effortless, nagging soreness in my foot was gone, I didn’t require a 3 hour nap and coffee after my most recent long run, and, most notably, I felt like I wasn’t doing enough. 

It seems funny to say that an otherwise negative thought is a sign that something good is happening.  But, in my 19 (!) years of competitive running I have learned to listen to my body, and what certain signals mean.  Running has always been the perfect outlet for my controlled perfectionism.  When I find something that I love, I want to go after it 100%.  But, with running, more isn’t always more.  At the same time, more is more to a certain degree.  It has taken me a while to realize, but feeling like I am out of shape or not doing as much as I should is a funny way of my body telling me I am ready to achieve more. 

Feeling out of shape isn’t the only reason I am feeling like a runner again.  I’m also enjoying running.  My routine has changed from me putting off my run until the last shred of daylight (and dreading it) to getting out the door before 10 AM.  I partly have my honeymoon to thank for that.  Being on CST in CA (Indy is EST), we were naturally awake at 6 AM.  It was easy to go for a run, stretch, foam roll, and shower all before the hotel was done serving breakfast.  I was able to carry over this routine when I returned, and have been loving it.  

In fact, I’ve found a lot of joy in breaking my to-do list into 3 categories:  things I can do in the two hours between waking up and going for my run, all of my running-related activities (I’m very pleased with myself for creating a consistent daily strength and yoga routine), and then anything else I need to do that day.  In the past it has been hard for me to compartmentalize my day, because if something had a deadline I struggled not to stress over it.  I’ve been amazed how the simple act of creating new categories for tasks has made that anxiety go away.  

How many Russian twists do you think I did before I took a photo I semi-liked?

Besides enjoyment, I feel like a runner again because I’m starting to look like my old running self.  Throughout the Fall every time I caught my reflection in a store front (or parked car, let’s be real) my legs looked heavy, I looked like I was plodding, and I wasn’t lifting my knees.  [Sidenote:  am I the only runner that has had to explain that I wasn’t slowing down to see what was inside a parked car, and that I’m only a super vain runner wanting to check out my form?]  Now, I can see (and feel.  hello, calves!) that I am running on my toes again.  I look light and springy, even!

Perhaps what is making me feel most like a runner is that I am making goals that excite me.  I go to bed thinking about what I want to achieve.  I wake up looking forward to putting in the work (and if I’m not looking forward to it, I at least recognize that being done will feel better than not getting out the door)  During the Fall I was scared I wasn’t going to even want to be a runner anymore.  Training wasn’t fun, making healthy choices wasn’t fun, and thinking about the goals I was probably going to miss definitely wasn’t helping.  Lately I’ve been catching myself daydreaming. 

My Spring racing season is shaping up nicely.  My 2018 mantra is #KnowYourWorth.  While I’m excited to explore what that means in both my personal and professional lives, I have a very definite idea for what it means in regards to my running.  When I think about knowing my worth, I picture a race that comes down to a photo finish between me and another competitor.  I see myself out-leaning her, because I am aware of the worth of everything I have put into my training and I don’t want to lose.  Knowing my worth means a defined shift from “la-la-I’m-just-happy-to-be-here-and-let-the-field-pull-me” to being aggressive and knowing what I came for.  My racing schedule reflects races with larger prize purses than I typically run because a) money = competition and competition brings out my best, and b) it’s time for me in my personal running evolution to approach races knowing the woman trying to pass me is worth $500.  

Here is what I have on my schedule:

February:  Polar Bear 5 mi and 5k in Indy

March:  Tobacco Road Half Marathon in NC

April:  waiting to hear back about a bucket list race

May:  Pittsburgh Marathon

I’m really excited to return to Pittsburgh, which is arguably where this journey started.  I have been reflecting on the past year, and while it feels like 2017 might have been a bust because my ultimate goal - getting the A standard and a top 10 finish at CIM - didn’t happen, it wasn’t.  

I don’t like to count how many miles I’ve run in a year (I don’t even have a watch that tracks that sort of thing!)  Instead I'll sum up the year by some of my favorite experiences.  In 2017 I:

-ran a snowy xc race and almost died driving through a mountain pass in a snowstorm in a rental Honda Accord without snow tires

-ran a 5k and 10k PR en route to a solid 15k finish in the strongest field I’ve ever raced

-ran a 10k PR a couple weeks later

-had my best USATF finish, placing 11th at the half marathon championships

-got engaged, then planned a wedding with 200 guests in 6 weeks w/ a $4000 budget (and was under!)

-got health insurance

-continued to grow my businesses

-took a long-overdue vacation

Sure, there were bad parts of 2017, too, but I’m choosing not to dwell on them.  All in all, everything bad that happened led to something better.  I was thinking on my run a couple days ago how cool it is (and also how proud of myself I am) that I recognized I needed a break and have come back feeling so strong.  I was wearing my she-roes bra at the time, so I took a photo of how I felt.  

I’m excited for 2018.  Right now I’m slowly building mileage.  This week will be around 60 mpw.  I am religiously doing my strides, I am building strength in the weight room, I have started doing yoga every day, and I’m finding it really easy to make good choices because I want to find the limits of my potential.  I’ve made big steps towards knowing my worth this year, and I’m really excited to make this mantra a focus in 2018, in all aspects of my life! 

[gobigorgohome2016]

Round 2

After a two week total break from running, I am back in action (and my calves are really sore).  

Since my last post, where I shared that I wasn’t feeling any better after 6 weeks of increased iron intake, I feel like I have finally turned a corner.  On November 3rd I received the results of my second blood test, which showed my ferritin level hadn’t risen a single point since my previous test, 6 weeks earlier.  That was the bad news.  The good news was that my iron and folate stores had both doubled and my reticulocyte (new red blood cell) count was high.  These results showed that my body was in the recovery process, and the doctor predicted my ferritin would rise any day.  Unfortunately, even though the rest of my blood work looked great, anemia symptoms tend to follow ferritin levels.  So, until my ferritin rose I would continue to feel like crap.  The doctor predicted that within 1 – 2 weeks those levels would begin rising rapidly.  

Just as the doctor had said, I woke up approximately 10 days later and had energy again.  It was strange to go from zero motivation to feeling incredibly bored with what had been my daily routine for the previous few months.  My time spent sleeping, consuming caffeine, and feeling generally blah all dramatically decreased, pretty much overnight.  

The funny thing about taking time off from running is that you learn a lot about other people, simply in the way they interact with you.  I generally don’t mind time off, and I would go so far as to say I’m really good at recovery.  I did not run a single step for two weeks, for two reasons: one, clearly my body was struggling to completely heal while I was still running.  In the past I have had sports doctors suggest that my issues with iron could be due to foot-strike anemia, which occurs when red blood cells rupture as a result of continuous impact.  This would make sense given that I couldn’t get my ferritin back up while running. Two, balance is really important for me. When I skimp on my breaks, I wind up breaking down later in the year or becoming mentally burned out.  Just like I go easy on my easy days and hard on my hard days in training, I also think it’s really important to spend some time not running or wearing the label of “athlete” for a while.  

The reactions I got from people when I told them I was taking some time off ranged from incredulousness (you’re not going to run?  AT ALL?) to disbelief (by two weeks off, you mean you’re only running like 30 mpw, right?) to pity (“you must be so sad right now”).  There definitely used to be a time in my life when I felt lost during a running break, but now I really appreciate the opportunity to do other things that I enjoy.

My first week back running was relatively uneventful, other than it felt great.  I’m pretty sure all the time spent sitting during my two weeks off deactivated my glutes, because my calves have been RIDICULOUSLY sore. The silver lining is that I’m creating a daily yoga and foam rolling routine because of the soreness that I will hopefully stick with.  

I wound up running 32 miles this week, which is a lot higher than I normally run during my first week back to training.  I had originally intended to run every other day, but I hit 6 days this week because different friends asked me if I wanted to run with them (I very rarely turn out the opportunity to run with other people!).  

Dave was in Florida for work last week, so my first week back to running also included a couple miles of walking each day with the dogs.  The only time I felt truly tired was Friday, which isn’t abnormal after a week when Dave is gone and the weather is perfect for the dogs to have all.the.energy.  (seriously, the number of times I have conversations with my dogs that start with, “you don’t know how lucky you are…” is astonishing.)

My coach wants me to wait a month to make sure I am feeling 100% before I choose my next marathon.  I have a short list of races that I am considering for the Spring, assuming I’m still feeling great in a few more weeks. After my busy winter and spring racing schedule, I am itching to get back on a starting line.  It might not bother me to take two weeks off from running, but it DOES bother me that I haven’t raced in 6 weeks, and do not have any races currently planned.  

I am happy, though, that I feel like a normal person again.  I have energy to do things like cook and walk the dogs, which are easy tasks for me to take for granted until Dave is out of town and I can’t ask for help.  It will definitely be weird this year to not run a Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving, but I’m not going to miss having to do a 20+ miler on Saturday.  I was looking forward to not training during Christmas this year, but alas I think I will survive.  I also thought that I would be sad that I will now have to run during our honeymoon, but the best way to see a city (we will be in Half Moon Bay and San Francisco) is to run, so I think it will only add to our trip.  Plus, I’ve gotten some great recommendations for trails to check out while we are in CA!

If I could take away three lessons from this experience, they would be:

-trust yourself when something doesn’t feel right

-never stop re-thinking your routine (in my case, the way I eat/drink during high winter mileage isn’t sufficient for high summer mileage)

-make the right investments. I was hesitant to spend money on bloodwork, but if I had done so sooner I might not have ended up in this situation.

[gobigorgohome2016]

Why I Won’t be Running CIM

I should have known this training cycle was doomed when my first week of training was sidelined due to serving on the jury of a murder trial. 

Yesterday I had the difficult task (one that reminded me all too much of college) of contacting all involved in my running or upcoming races and let them know that my coach and I have decided to pull the plug on the rest of the season.  No Monumental half, no CIM.  

How did I get here?

Six weeks ago I ordered a blood test to confirm my suspicions that something was up with me, biochemically.  I suspected ferritin to be the culprit, and in addition I also had low iron, vitamin D, potassium, magnesium, and folate.  My telltale symptoms included persistent quad soreness, irritability, uncharacteristic sadness, extreme fatigue, and difficulty sustaining longer efforts, like tempos and long runs.  

I received my blood test results ~10 weeks out from CIM, so I was confident I would be able to raise my nutrient levels and return to my normal self in time.  Two weeks later I was feeling a lot better.  Sure, I was still sleeping 12 - 14 hours per day and needed a caffeine drip in order to get through daily tasks, but I was determined to feel better.  

I was extremely pleased with my performance at the Ft. Ben half and thought it was a sign that things were improving.  

But, the following week things took a turn for the worst.  I was suddenly feeling like I was back at square one, and the 90 miles I ran the week before were followed by a 56 mile week, because that was all I could muster.  I attempted 5 x 2 miles at marathon effort 7 days after the half marathon and could only manage 7:00 pace.  Clearly, I had taken a couple steps backward.

My coach’s solution was perfect:  take a week of no workouts, no watch, no expectations.  Only run on trails.  If I needed a day off, take a day or two off.  

After that week, I felt refreshed.  I made it through a 19 mile run on Saturday of that week (my longest in a while), but, my quads were on fire for the final 6 miles.  The next day, though, I felt great.  Springy, even!  

Then the cycle began again.  Monday felt okay, Tuesday was a decent, albeit short, workout, and then the wheels fell off.  Thursday I set out to repeat a workout I had done 8 weeks prior:  an 8 mile tempo at marathon effort.  I repeated the same route, and had better weather this time.  The first tempo was completed right before I found out my ferritin was low, and I averaged 6:03 pace.  This would be a great test to see how much I had improved.  

My splits: 6;03, 6:06, 6:09, 6:17, 6:19, 6:15.  Then I stopped.  The effort I had just put forth on a downhill section running with the wind to split 6:15 was far greater than marathon effort.  My quads were completely locked.  To keep going wasn’t going to get me anywhere.  

But, bad workouts happen.  It’s when bad days stack that you really have to worry, right?

The next morning, I woke up and had no desire to run, a feeling that has become commonplace lately.  But, I was meeting a friend for a standing run date we have every Friday at 9 AM, and company always pulls me out of a funk.  Except, this time it didn’t.  We got 2 miles into the run and I asked her if we could stop.  My heart was pounding (I made her feel my pulse to confirm I wasn’t crazy) and then I started crying.  I was so tired of feeling like crap.  The thought of finishing that run (only 6 more miles) sounded absolutely terrible.  My running partner has also struggled with low iron, so she was very sympathetic to how I was feeling.  We walked / jogged back to the cars and she listened to me as I ugly cried about how tired I am of feeling this way.  I texted my coach and we decided to see how the weekend went before making any calls.  

Saturday was another bad day, so we decided it was time to stop and recover.  If I kept going like this, I was going to dig myself an unnecessarily deep hole.  My concern?  If I kept training like this I would finish CIM and never want to train for a marathon again.

To be honest, deciding to stop and take a break has made me feel relieved, as opposed to sad.  In my own coaching, when someone questions whether or not to pull out of a race, I ask him or her, “If the race was cancelled and you were not able to compete, would you be relieved or pissed?”  If relieved, that is usually a sign that you shouldn’t run.  

I am a competitor and train to compete.  Yet, I would have been so relieved for the race to have been canceled and to focus on a new one.  I should have asked myself that question a long time ago.  When I was texting with my coach about ending the season, Dave and I happened to be at a bar with the dogs.  Afterwards we went out for an amazing dinner at Capital Grille.  According to Dave, choosing to end the season early resulted in a more relaxed me than he had seen since before we got engaged in May.  I will admit that this training cycle has weighed heavily on me.  

What other signs did I miss that I should have reconsidered CIM?  

I had started to plan my runs based on the fact that I might not finish them.  Instead of running long loops like I normally do, I was planning routes that went by my car frequently.  Lately, I have had a lot of days where my runs get cut short.  

I have been overly reliant on caffeine.  In a typical week, I only drink coffee once or twice, usually as a post-long run reward.  For the past 6 weeks I have had coffee every single day, solely to help me get through my run (even easy days).  

I have been sleeping an obscene amount.  In addition to 9 - 11 hours per night, I have been taking 2 - 3 hour naps.  

Talking about running has mostly made me irritable and angry.  I become frustrated when people ask me how my training is going, or tell me that I still have time to feel better.  I had to ask Dave to stop asking me how my runs / workouts went.  

Probably the worst is that running just hasn’t been fun.  Instead of worrying about whether or not I will hit my splits, I have gone into runs not sure if I will be able to finish.  A common tip that I give to my athletes is to use the “10 minute rule” when motivation is low.  If you get 10 minutes into a run, 99% of the time you will keep going.  For me, more often than not I was getting 10 minutes into runs and wanting to stop.  

I was also putting a lot of energy into trying to make this work.  I have a notebook filled with lists I made of how to get through the next 6 weeks; how to control the controllables; how to feel better when workouts were bad, mantras, etc.  While those are all great tactics, I should have realized that relying on them to that extreme was out of character for me.

Of course, I have second guessed whether I made the right decision.  On Monday I woke up and thought to myself, “you know what?  I was too hasty, I’m going to get up and go for a run and see how I feel.”  I immediately jacked my knee getting out of bed and was limping around the rest of the day.  I”m chalking that one up to the universe telling me to stick with  my plan of no running for a couple weeks. 

I know that I am going to be sad when I spectate Monumental and during CIM weekend.  I will probably compare myself to other people in the race and try to convince myself that I could have placed highly, like I did after the 10 mile.  I will probably be a little salty those weekends. But, that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.  One thing I have lost these last couple months is my characteristic fire and feistiness.  Is it really that terrible to get a little jealous and fired up?  

I’m waiting on the results from a second blood test, but my gut feeling is that my ferritin has either not budged, or possibly even dropped.  My guess is that I wasn’t able to rebuild stores while continuing at a high level of training, and probably that I wasn’t responding to the supplement I was taking (iron bisglycinate).  I have switched to liquid iron, and am hoping that some total rest will make me feel better.  Hopefully I will be ready to go for a Spring marathon.  

I’m super thankful for everyone who has listened to me or helped me out the last couple months, including my coach, my mental game coach, my nutritionist, oiselle (shout out to Dr. Lesko!), my massage therapist, Dave, and Becki and Andie (my go-tos when I’m not feeling great).  Fortunately I think I’ll live to fight another day!

[gobigorgohome2016]

Fitness Check #1:  USATF IN Half Champs

When I’m training for a marathon an integral workout that I incorporate is the fitness check.  The goal is to run a defined distance (typically 8 - 10 miles) at current marathon effort (not goal pace).  My last fitness check is usually run as a half marathon, 4 weeks from race day, where I run the first 10 at marathon effort and the final 5k all-out.  In fact, this is how I ran my half marathon PR.  

I love when I can combine fitness checks and races because it adds an extra layer of preparation to my training.  I am able to practice water stops, race day nutrition, new shoes, new racing kits, etc.  

If you read my last blog post, you know that I pulled out of the US 10 mile championships due to low ferritin, iron, magnesium, potassium, folate, and vitamin d.  The last thing I needed to do last week was deplete myself further on a course that is already pretty tough.  

But, a concern of mine is how little I have raced this season.  Normally I race every 2 - 4 weeks during a marathon build up, and I haven’t stepped on a starting line since the first weekend in August.  For me, races give me confidence but also give me an important indication of what needs to be improved.  I also look at it is as a win-win opportunity:  I either run well and my training is validated, or I get my ass handed to me and I get fired up.  

After an appointment last week with my nutritionist, I can say that I am feeling better than I was 10 days ago.  Am I 100%?  Probably not.  But, when thinking about what I need to do to feel best prepared for CIM, I knew that jumping in a race sooner rather than later was important.  I came up with the following plan:

I would run Ft. Ben half / USATF IN Champs with the goal of running the first 10 at marathon effort and the final 5k hard, then, 4 weeks later, I would run Monumental with the same plan to see how my fitness has progressed.  That would leave me 4 weeks before CIM to make some fine-tuning adjustments, if needed.  

The most exciting thing about today is that my Haute Volee bff, Becki Spellman, stayed with us Friday night and brought her bicycle to cheer during the race.  [if you are on snapchat and follow her, you should check out my bun-dancing snap.  I might have had a lot of fun today].  I’m going to be real with you:  I probably didn’t have the same pre-race routine as normal... pizza, beer, and falling asleep at 1 AM ahead of a 6 AM alarm.  (To be fair, I got into bed at 11 but couldn’t fall asleep because of the serious FOMO I had while listening to Dave and Becki stay up chatting after I tried to go to sleep).  

Going into the race, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect.  My marathon PR is 6:04 pace, so I was hoping marathon effort would be somewhere between 5:50 and 6:00 pace.  I also wanted to respect the fact that effort right now might be slower, given my recent blood test.  During the warm up Becki asked me if I was nervous that a long, sustained effort was going to feel hard, which tends to happen when you’re anemic.  The truth?  I was.  Then she asked if I was afraid 6:00 would feel hard, and I did (in retrospect, those were weird things to ask me right before my race, Becki!!)  I wanted to make sure that I didn’t do anything stupid that would make my workout a harder effort than I had planned.  

The other thing I will say about today is that it wasn’t exactly an anemic runner’s ideal conditions:  slight wind (10 - 12 mph) , humidity, and HILLS  (well, at least hills for being in central Indiana).  

My first mile was 5:56 and felt perfect.  I went through 5k in 18:45 and maintained roughly 6:00 pace (give or take based on whether I was going up or down) through 10.  I think my 10 mile split was 1:00:06.  There wasn’t really anything remarkable that happened, other than I felt strong for the first time in a long time.  I had asked Becki to watch me for signs of stress and remind me that I was aiming for marathon effort today in case I looked like I was starting to overdo it.  Other than a quick reminder around 5 miles in, I felt like I stayed true to my goal.  

My biggest mistake:  thinking I could pick up the pace the last 5k with all that climbing.  While I increased my effort in those last 3 miles, I definitely slowed down.  It didn’t help that once I got past the steep hill, there was a 1200 m section of road straight into the wind.  I was definitely hurting the last half mile, but I got to break finishing line tape for the FIRST TIME EVER!  Thanks to IndyMonumental for capturing this awesome photo!

My overall time was 1:19:22.   Not my fastest half marathon ever, but one that feels like it was an important step in the right direction.  To put it in perspective:  I ran this exact same race plan 4 weeks out from my PR marathon, and ran 1:19:08.  The biggest difference?  That race was completely flat.  I would like to think that even though I am not at full strength, today’s race bodes really well for CIM, especially as I continue to get stronger.  

I’m also happy that 2 weeks ago, I set out to do a 22 mile run and stopped and sat on the ground after 20 minutes because I was so fatigued.  Last week, I ran 20 at Ft. Ben at 7:05 pace, but slept for 12 hours afterwards.  Today I started to feel like myself again, and it is pretty amazing how quickly the human body can begin to bounce back!

[gobigorgohome2016]

Plot Twist!

Ever since I read Devon Yanko’s blog post after Leadville, yelling “plot twist!” during less-than-ideal situations has become my new favorite thing.  

My expectations for summer and fall training were that I would run hyper-high mileage, never miss a single workout, feel amazing every single day, and then arrive to the starting line fitter, stronger, and healthier than ever before.  

Of course, when my life is made into a Disney movie, that story line is going to be pretty boring, isn’t it?  

This summer as a whole hasn’t felt amazing.  But, who can expect it to be when the past 8 weeks have been soupy and swampy, and the previous 6 weeks were spent planning an impromptu wedding?  

I think my first indication that something was “off” should have been MI bird camp, when my legs didn’t recover for a full 5 days after my long run.  No worries, I thought - it was extra hilly and I probably just wasn’t acclimated to running steep downhills.  

I was frustrated with myself for taking so many days off over the summer.  I felt like I needed one per week, which is a departure from my typical one-day-off-every-6-weeks.  But, I figured that was the price I was paying for running 90 - 100 mpw in hot and humid weather, when normally my mileage is only that high in the fall and winter.  

As time went on, I was a little bit concerned about how I lacked motivation to get out the door.  Dave pointed out that I am someone who usually races often, and this long period of just training was probably starting to get to me.  Fair enough. 

Then, I started noticing how unhappy I was in my day to day life.  Suddenly, nothing seemed to make me happy.  I wasn’t getting any enjoyment out of my favorite things, like a good cup of coffee, journaling, playing with my dogs, cooking, binge watching favorite episodes with Dave and a drink...and that worried me. 

Finally, I realized my motivation to run was becoming completely nonexistent.  However, one running partner moved away, another is injured, and Dave has been out of town a lot so I kind of chalked that up to having to do a lot more by myself.  I thought I was becoming bored of my running routes.  But, then I had a week of running where even if I did get out the door, I would get 10 - 20 minutes in and have no desire to keep going.  For me, that is usually the key signal that something biochemical is amiss.  

The weird thing was that workouts didn’t completely suck.  For instance, 3 weeks ago I did an 8 mile tempo on a warm and windy day in 48:27, which I was very happy with.  However, 2 days later I struggled through a cruise interval workout.  

The following week I did 12 x hill repeats and felt AMAZING.  But, I did a 14 mile progression run two days after that where I couldn’t hit 6:00 pace at the end to save my life.  I texted Becki Spellman and tried to get her to agree with me that a 14 mile progression run ending at 6:00 pace is much harder than an 8 mile tempo at 6:00 pace, but I’m pretty sure she thought I was crazy.  My coach’s solution made sense:  I just needed an extra day of recovery until my body acclimated to the mileage.  

Last week, I went out for 8 x mile at marathon effort.  I tried the workout on Tuesday, but went home after the first mile of my warm up.  The next day I tried again and the heat / humidity / dew point reached their summer peak.  I wasn’t surprised that my last mile in 5:38 equated to a heart rate of 186.  But, at the same time, I’m used to my workouts having a certain je ne sais quoi about them.  Even when conditions are tough, I usually find a way to surprise myself.  

Here I was, though, the queen of high mileage not enjoying training, life, or really anything in between.  Everyone’s solutions made sense:  the heat, the humidity, post-wedding let down, higher mileage, less racing, etc.  Deep down, though, I think I knew there was more at play.  I mean, there had to be, right?  How does someone go from talking about the vibrations she feels when she drinks a good cup of coffee to crying through her morning routine?  Oh yeah, and there was the fact I was suddenly sleeping 10 - 14 hours per day.

So, I ordered a blood test.  Now, in reality I should have done this sooner but 1) they are expensive, and 2) did I really want to know?  There was a small part of me that was terrified nothing was wrong.  Afterwards, my coach chided me a little bit for not speaking up about how I was feeling earlier.  But, there were so many logical reasons for why I was feeling that way, and I was also worried I just wasn’t being mentally tough.  What if nothing was wrong with me?  

Fortunately, Dr. Lesko [oiselle elite team manager] had recently recommended Athlete Blood Test to the Haute Volee.  I’m sure I will be asked how I chose this specifc test versus Inside Tracker, and the truth is that ABT tested what I wanted [specifically ferritin and cortisol] at the best price.  I did the bronze panel and paid a little extra to test my Vitamin D levels as well.  

Before I received the results I was convinced my ferritin was low, my coach assumed potassium was the problem, and my pharmacist friend was certain my folate levels were to blame.  Surprise!  It was all 3! Plus magnesium, iron, and Vitamin D.  

Fortunately, none of my levels are dangerously low.  Aside from folate, all are low for an athlete, but not out of range for the general population.  The reason that I chose to have my blood tested by an athlete-specific testing company is that the distinction between athlete and general population is made.  For instance, my Vitamin D levels were 43.  For an athlete, they should be above 50 (ideally closer to 100); but for the general population they should be above 30.  Sometimes doctors take for granted that athletes have different needs, and athlete blood test gave me ideal ranges based on my age, sex, and hours / intensity that I spend training.  

While most of my levels were athlete-low, my folate was low for both an athlete and the general population.  Here is something that I did not know:  low folate can manifest with similar anemia-like symptoms as low ferritin.  Once I got my report and began reading how my different “slightly low” and “low” levels affect the body, everything began to make complete sense.  

The blood test wasn’t without some good news.  One measurement that Athlete Blood Test makes is training tolerance.  They run a comprehensive metabolic panel and also test cortisol and inflammation markers.  Despite running 90 - 100 mpw in the worst conditions of my life (seriously, this summer has been worse than the one I spent in Baton Rouge!)  and feeling a little down while doing so, I received the highest score possible in recoverability.  

All in all, I think it’s pretty positive!  I’m meeting with my nutritionist tomorrow to talk more, and also supplementing the areas where I’m low.  I think I underestimated the toll that the heat was taking on me, and not respecting the fact that the humidity kills my appetite.  I probably wasn’t doing the best job fully refueling, since it was easier to grab a packaged meal than cook an elaborate dinner.  I was more concerned about calories and macronutrients than the entire nutrient spectrum.  

Most of all, I am excited that regardless of the poor micronutrient score, I have been able to run more mileage and higher quality workouts than I was 2 years ago.  I did decide to drop the 10 mile championships from my schedule (they are on Sunday), because killing myself on a tough course and further depleting my body isn’t in the best interest of my ultimate goal, which I shared earlier this week.  If I get through this training cycle and the worst thing that happened was a 60 mile week last week because I chose to listen to my body instead of force myself to run when I wasn’t feeling 100%, I’ll call that a major win!  All in all, I should be back to normal within 3 - 4 weeks, and I can’t wait to see how I feel!