One Week

It’s hard to believe that fifteen weeks of a sixteen week training program are gone.  In just a week the race will be here.  I can envision the start line, the tens of thousands of people converging on downtown, the buzz in the air.  But, I’m having trouble pinpointing my feelings this time around.  I’m not nervous, but I’m not excited, either.  I know it’s because I’m not quite where I expected to be.

I ran yesterday and today, and while my hamstring definitely feels better, it’s not 100%.  It’s more of an ache than a pain, but a hindrance nonetheless.  Unlike prior pains, such as the shin splint, ibuprofen does not really help.  However, I’m not discouraged either.  I know I can finish the race, and a lot can happen before Saturday.

By this point, the nerves are usually manifesting themselves as weird dreams.  So far, I’ve only had one, and it was before all of the setbacks.  It was the typical scenario.  I was still at my house when I should have been getting ready to get into the corral, and despite getting up on time, I had not eaten breakfast.  Other typical dream scenarios include getting stuck in the bathroom and missing the start of the race, or getting to the start line and realizing I didn’t actually train.  I suppose I’ll take dreamless sleep over that.

In an attempt to get my head where it needs to be, I bought some new shorts.  New things always make me feel better.  Traditionally, I buy a new outfit for each race.  Weather always dictates what I actually wear the day of, but knowing I have new clothes to run in makes it easier to get out of bed at 5 am.  This time, I’m breaking my cardinal rule.  I always wear the new outfit one time – on a ten-mile run – to see what potential issues there may be.  I’ve had my Back on My Feet shirt for a month, so no concerns there.  For a while I wasn’t sure whether I really needed new shorts, hence the delay in shopping.

On top of that, I was being a little particular this time around.  I’m tired of running in shorts with no pockets (sorry, the little spot for a house key or a gel does not constitute a pocket).  I wanted a zippered pocket along the back of the waistband.  I also do not like running in short shorts.  Let’s be honest – no one wants to see that.

After doing a bit of research and asking my running buddy what she liked, I decided to check out lululemon.  Slightly more expensive than say, Nike or Saucony, but covering all requirements.  I tried on a couple of different styles and sizes, and was surprised by how comfortable they were.  With a four-inch inseam, two gel pockets and a zippered pocket, I was sold.  I’m hoping four miles will be a long enough distance to allow any potential problems to manifest themselves.

I hope that the taper also helps to put me where I need to be mentally.  Knowing that I get to start carbo-loading in a couple of days is helping as well.  There’s no sense in denying it – part of why I run long distance is to eat tons of pasta, pizza and potatoes.  Who am I to argue with science?  Up next on the task list is to put together a new playlist for the race.  Just like a new outfit, a new playlist does wonders for upping my excitement. (Any must-have song recommendations?  Leave them in the comments!)

Over the next few days, I need to focus on getting decent sleep and hydrating.  Even if things don’t go as originally hoped on Saturday, it will be OK.  I know I will run the best race that I can, and I know that there will always be another chance, another race, another opportunity for a PR.  After all, the next goal is to tackle 26.2.

Hurts So Good

I finally called about getting a massage for my hamstring.  I got up from my desk at work, and the shooting pain up my back convinced me to call.  I had done a little research, and decided that I would try Heal Thyself in Broad Ripple.  I knew that I wanted a place that focused more on the medical aspects of massage rather than just relaxation.  Heal Thyself offers such services.

I wasn’t sure what the proper timing would be.  Should I get in ASAP?  Should I wait until closer to the race?  The woman I spoke to recommended ASAP, and much to my delight, there was an appointment available this afternoon at 4:00.  She had one question though – would I be comfortable with a male therapist?  I said yes without hesitation, thinking a male might be stronger than a female and able to really work the muscles.  Be careful what you wish for.

After I hung up the phone, I panicked.  I hadn’t shaved my legs since the weekend! (Yeah, I’m gross.  So what?)  I seriously thought about calling to reschedule, but decided I shouldn’t let a little stubble come between me and potential freedom from pain.

Heal Thyself is located in a renovated house on Broadway off of Westfield.  I could smell the lavender as I walked onto the porch.  The whole vibe of the place was soothing.  As I sat in the waiting area, I really felt like I was hanging out in someone’s living room.  I met my therapist, Helger, and he spent some time asking about the issues I was experiencing.  I specifically said that I was not having any pain in my quads.

As he got started, I was surprised that my hamstring didn’t hurt like I thought it would when he was working on it.  My hip hurt, but I kind of expected that.  What I did not expect was the pain in my quads.  It felt like he was barely working the muscles, but they were so tender.  I wasn’t sure I would be able to get through it, but you guessed it – it hurt oh so good.  I didn’t want it to stop because I knew it was helping.  Even as I was laying there I could tell that I was going to feel fantastic when I got up.

Oddly enough, my abdominal muscle was the likely source of my hamstring pain.  Apparently it was pulling up my hip, which was then impacting my hamstring.  I’ve had a decent number of massages in my time.  This was my first experience with having my stomach massaged.  It involved a bit of pinching my fat (at least that’s what it felt like to me).  But not in a mocking way.  In an incredibly helpful, pain releasing kind of way.

Going into this, I had expected to feel a little better after it was over.  My expectations were not so high as to think that I would walk out feeling normal.  I figured I would need some more stretching and foam rolling at home.  But when I got up from that table, my hamstring did not hurt.  Not one little bit.  Now my quads, they were another story.  It still kind of feels like I did a monster speed workout this afternoon.  I can only imagine what I will feel like tomorrow.

I did not run tonight, and I will likely take tomorrow off as well, as Helger’s suggestion.  I certainly don’t want to undo today’s hour’s worth of magic.  Since it’s taper time, I’m not worried about missing one run.  However, I am anxious to see how everything feels.  It would be encouraging to get through the next few days without my muscle tensing up again. At least I know where I can turn in case it does.  For now, I leave you with this:

Dealing with Setbacks

At four weeks out from the race, I felt great.  I had one ten-miler done; I was incorporating speed work; things were looking good.  Then, I woke up the Friday three weeks before the race (Friday the Thirteenth, no less), and my throat felt a bit scratchy.  Refusing to face reality, I told myself I must have just slept with my mouth open.

By the end of the day, I had to face reality.  I felt miserable by the time we got home from dinner, and didn’t understand why my husband looked at me strangely when I said I wanted to go to bed at 11:20.  I know that’s kind of early for a Friday, but I didn’t think it was deserving of a strange look.  Then I got into bed, reached over to set the alarm, and realized it was only 10:20.  No wonder.  Clearly, I was sick.

Luckily, I got over the worst part of the cold in just a few days – you know, the time period where you just feel like crap, everything aches, and you are exhausted.  By Tuesday, I felt like I was on the mend.  I went out for a short run.  It was hard to breath and I still had runny nose, but otherwise I felt OK.  Until the next morning.

I woke up and my hamstring was so sore.  What had I done?  Actually, the question was what hadn’t I done.  You see, when we got back from the 4 mile run, we had to go to the store.  In my haste to get food to put in my belly, I did not stretch afterwards.  Oh, it was only four miles, I’ll be fine.  I know better than this.

I’m not sure that my lack of stretching is the entire issue, because it is more painful than ever before.  In addition, I can’t quite completely kick this cold.  I’m still coughing and it’s still hard to breath on runs.  Needless to say, I began to feel frustrated, and even worse, afraid.  Afraid of the distance.  Afraid of the pain.  Afraid of not running to my potential.  Afraid of having wasted the last sixteen weeks.  It’s the ten-day taper.  I should be feeling fantastic.

Then I started thinking about all of my half marathons.  My first race, I had all kinds of issues.  Knee pain.  Foot pain.  Hip pain.  I remember thinking the few days before that race, “Please just let me wake up with no pain race day.”  And I had no pain that day.  Adrenaline is a wonderful thing.

Six months later I was getting ready for my second half, and about three weeks before the race I developed a shin splint.  Wow, was that painful.  Much more painful than what I’m feeling now.  Race day I popped some ibuprofen and ran my best race to date.  (I did take a break and let it heal afterwards.)

While I was moping around the last two weeks, I forgot that this is not the first time (and I’m sure will not be that last) that I’ve faced setbacks shortly before races.  Each time, I dealt with them and refused to let them get the best of me.  I’m certainly not about to do that this time.

My hamstring is still sore, but I had a really good run tonight.  I’ve been using a foam roller (seriously, how have I gotten by this long without one), and focusing on stretching.  It’s still ten days until the race.  Not just ten days, but ten days of tapering.  That’s exactly what this body needs.

I know that I’m not going to reach the starting line next Saturday morning in the condition that I had been hoping for.  But that doesn’t mean I have to give up completely.  I’m working on my race strategy, and after running the course two other times I can now visualize it.  I can realistically plan what my time should be at certain milestones along the course.  It’s unbelievable how much comfort that provides.

Right now, it’s time to focus on mental preparations.  Physically, I’ve done all that I can.  All of the hard work and long runs are already complete.  It’s time to make sure I stay out of my own head.  It’s time to remind myself that this time, I’m not just running this race for me.  It’s time to focus on bringing my A game.

Speed Work: A Necessary Evil

I hate speed work.  I know, who doesn’t.  It’s horrible.  It’s hard.  It makes me feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest.  But it works.  I had big aspirations for this training session.  I was going to do at least one speed workout per week.  I was going to get faster.  I was going to get stronger.  I was going to run the Mini in 1:45:00.

I’d like to say that I have some excuse for not sticking with the plan.  Injury, sickness, something.  Anything other than laziness.  But I’m afraid that’s the truth.  As I planned my runs for each week, I saw the days where a speed workout would fit in nicely.  Each week I had an excuse ready.  “I don’t have access to a track.”  “It’s snowy out.”  “My shins hurt.”

About two weeks ago (and six weeks out from the race), my  husband and I ran this 5K.  I gave it my all. I ran hard.  At the end, I was spent.  My pace? 8:06.  You know what that isn’t?  8:00 – the pace I need for a 1:45:00.  I felt kind of discouraged and disappointed.  I was certain there was no way I could keep up even an 8:06 pace for a half marathon.  What happened to my grand plans?  The time that was just out of reach at the last race was likely going to continue to be so.

Then I got over the pity party.  I still had six weeks.  That’s a lot of training time.  I started thinking of workouts that I could do that didn’t have to involve the track (although I have every intention of checking out the Monon Center – the indoor track is free).  The easiest workout for me (and by easy, I mean in terms of keeping track of the speed portion) are those based on time.  Three minutes all out.  Five minutes all out.  Ladders.  It’s hard to do alone, but I knew I could tackle them.

Last week I got serious.  I mapped out roughly a 4 mile route with 4 major hills (major when compared to the relative flatness that is Indy) over on Butler’s campus.  The run involved four 3 minute pick ups – you guessed it – up each of the hills.  The last one nearly did me in, but I did it.

This week I stepped it up a bit.  This week is my highest mileage week for this training program – 34 miles with a 10 mile long run.  I needed to do 6 miles yesterday, and I figured with 2-2.5 miles of warm up/cool down, I would be fine.  About a mile in, I saw an unopened Reese’s Peanut Butter Egg on the street.  It looked like it had just been dropped.  It wasn’t smooshed.  And yeah, I seriously thought about picking it up.  I refrained.

I started my first 3 minute pick up, and I could tell that I wasn’t going to be able to go my fastest through each interval.  I tried not to think about the two 5 minute intervals or the three other 3 minute intervals.  I tried not to think of the three hills I had purposefully included in my route.  I tried not to think about what would happen if those hills came at the end of an interval.  I just ran, focusing only on turning my legs over quickly for the duration of those three minutes.

As I feared, the first hill came at the end of the first 5 minute interval.  I pushed through, and savored the gravitational pull as I ran back down the hill.  Before I knew it, I was on my last pick up.  Just three more minutes and I could take as long as I wanted to get home.  Oh, and it was about this time that I really started to wish I’d picked up that Reese’s egg.  I deserved such a tasty reward.  (It’s possible I was not getting enough oxygen to the brain).

I took off, and again, as feared, that last looming hill was facing me, mocking me.  I pushed my legs harder.  Even though it didn’t feel like I was actually moving forward, the next thing I knew I was at the top.  I had just twenty more seconds to go.  I may have thrown my arms in the air in victory as I counted down 5-4-3-2-1.

Today I was sore, but in a good way.  It’s the kind of soreness that let’s you know you worked your muscles.  It’s not often that I feel that way after a run these days.  After last week’s speed session, I had a pretty good pace for my long run.  I have high hopes for Saturday’s 10.  And maybe, just maybe, 1:45:00 isn’t out of reach.  I’m not ready yet to give up hope.