..into the taper. I love it and despise it. I want to tear my hair out from feeling so ancy, but I am relieved the long miles have been put in. I felt tired and extremely unenthusiastic about this morning's run. Not sure if I am burnt or that it was the feeling 8 miles is hardly worth lacing up the running shoes for?
Other than that, in taking inventory on the body, my broken toe from October is still bothering me post runs and my arches are reluctant and whiney after the shoes come off. My calves are a little tight and my right knee sore. I hope these are all good signs for a happy marathon in 8 days.
I have really made peace with the idea that LA will be whatever it will be. I am totally unfamiliar with the course and I am going with the attitude that ignorance is pure bliss. I am hoping that I can just click the miles away and roll with it without being a slave to the watch and the clocks. My sweet friend, Tracy, gave me a card this morning with advice that read: "Just flow". I think that is a good thought and I may even leave the watch behind race day. I mean, I am not a Kenyan, afterall. Who cares, right? Really, if I have one dream, one goal, one desire, my hope and prayer is that I can be GI issue-free. Please, God, let me know another marathon without vomit involved. Maybe this is a syndrome? Bulimiarathoning? Hmmm. I hope I am not destined to always fall into that diagnosis.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Saturday Rave Run into Sick Week
Last Saturday was my last 22 mile run before LA. It was great. I felt great, minus the last 2 miles where my legs felt cooked. My friend, Jody, graciously offered to ride her bike next to me the whole way so I could start in the dark. I was most grateful. 3 hours total, just shy of, actually, with a negative split. I am elated I am in the taper now.
Sick kids vomiting kept me home this morning and now I am feeling a little off. I hope I don't have to take another morning off tomorrow. I am craving the treadmill and hoping to get in the water, too. Ugg. I hate illness. It is such a bummer. Makes me appreciate the well days.
Sick kids vomiting kept me home this morning and now I am feeling a little off. I hope I don't have to take another morning off tomorrow. I am craving the treadmill and hoping to get in the water, too. Ugg. I hate illness. It is such a bummer. Makes me appreciate the well days.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
My Lazy Mind
I think I have truly, finally, at last really come to terms with why I am such an awful swimmer: my mind is just simply too lazy. It is as straight forward as that. When one does not think in the pool, one gets sloppy and that is what I am! Sloppy swimmer girl.
I ran 22 miles this morning, out and back course threw in some tough hills and went solo. I was content and even happy with my situation about 99 percent of the time. I think the only time I was a little concerned was when I was wishing I had brought extra nutrition and worn less clothing. Because I was solo, I went out a little later. Therefore, I was warmer than usual and felt more hungry than usual, too.
As I was en route back with still about 9 miles to go, I was in a groove. I felt strong and genuinely happy. It occured to me that I don't ever think about running. This, after I almost tripped coming up on a curb because I was visualizing stepping up on it too much. Sound crazy? Maybe, yes. I was thinking as I came upon this curb at the top of La Jolla Shores, a good climb and my legs were tired, that maybe it would be my right foot to lead me over the curb first. Then, as I got closer, I thought, no, it will be my left that leads. I literally almost tripped over-thinking this ridiculous senario and so I had to remind myself that I never think when I run. That is, I get lazy and allow my thoughts to wander wherever they may.
I think about my daughter's homework assignments for the week. I think about her birthday rapidly approaching and what the party favors will be. I think about how adorable my son was digging in the sand at the park, despite kids playing around him with monsterous behavior. I think about my husband and his desire to heal his foot and get back to where he was so he is not a prisoner to the pool...and then I thought of swimming. Maybe this is the heart of the matter. Maybe, though my form is far from perfect on pavement, I run with such passion and ease because it just comes more naturally to me. I think most people would agree we are not built for water. Swimming is an acquired skill, no doubt. Maybe my running is smooth because I can enjoy it while I enjoy some quiet time-alone. Often I am with friends, yes. But we are not chatting when we are racing or running track workouts or tempo miles. We are together, but totally alone in our heads.
Swimming does not allow me that same grace. Swimming is just hard. Swimming is so much work. Swimming never feels good or graceful or fun. I am still not sure why I even go? I love the people at the workout. I love the coaching staff. I love the smell of the chlorine on my skin when I get out. But, really, the whole time I am in the pool, I am thinking about the getting out and into the shower. I think I allow my mind to wander too much in the pool to pass the time, and I do not think about my stroke. I think I use the quiet of the pool as another venue for quiet in my head. No talking, no ipod, just thoughts....and now, I guess they will be thoughts of bringing my left elbow up higher and rasing my head up a bit, and all the other issues I have. Now, that really kills the fun.
I ran 22 miles this morning, out and back course threw in some tough hills and went solo. I was content and even happy with my situation about 99 percent of the time. I think the only time I was a little concerned was when I was wishing I had brought extra nutrition and worn less clothing. Because I was solo, I went out a little later. Therefore, I was warmer than usual and felt more hungry than usual, too.
As I was en route back with still about 9 miles to go, I was in a groove. I felt strong and genuinely happy. It occured to me that I don't ever think about running. This, after I almost tripped coming up on a curb because I was visualizing stepping up on it too much. Sound crazy? Maybe, yes. I was thinking as I came upon this curb at the top of La Jolla Shores, a good climb and my legs were tired, that maybe it would be my right foot to lead me over the curb first. Then, as I got closer, I thought, no, it will be my left that leads. I literally almost tripped over-thinking this ridiculous senario and so I had to remind myself that I never think when I run. That is, I get lazy and allow my thoughts to wander wherever they may.
I think about my daughter's homework assignments for the week. I think about her birthday rapidly approaching and what the party favors will be. I think about how adorable my son was digging in the sand at the park, despite kids playing around him with monsterous behavior. I think about my husband and his desire to heal his foot and get back to where he was so he is not a prisoner to the pool...and then I thought of swimming. Maybe this is the heart of the matter. Maybe, though my form is far from perfect on pavement, I run with such passion and ease because it just comes more naturally to me. I think most people would agree we are not built for water. Swimming is an acquired skill, no doubt. Maybe my running is smooth because I can enjoy it while I enjoy some quiet time-alone. Often I am with friends, yes. But we are not chatting when we are racing or running track workouts or tempo miles. We are together, but totally alone in our heads.
Swimming does not allow me that same grace. Swimming is just hard. Swimming is so much work. Swimming never feels good or graceful or fun. I am still not sure why I even go? I love the people at the workout. I love the coaching staff. I love the smell of the chlorine on my skin when I get out. But, really, the whole time I am in the pool, I am thinking about the getting out and into the shower. I think I allow my mind to wander too much in the pool to pass the time, and I do not think about my stroke. I think I use the quiet of the pool as another venue for quiet in my head. No talking, no ipod, just thoughts....and now, I guess they will be thoughts of bringing my left elbow up higher and rasing my head up a bit, and all the other issues I have. Now, that really kills the fun.
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