Getting Over It

The Sunday of the Rite Aid Cleveland Marathon I ran in this:

This is EXACTLY how the race looked.

This past Sunday I ran in beautiful weather.  The sun was shining, but it wasn't too hot.  I even saw these guys who wanted to know what the heck Shelby and I were doing:

I couldn't get the shot I wanted, while both deer were less than 2 feet away.  Still, pretty cool!

I'm not bitter, though.  I'm not.

I am getting over my bronchitis, but I am still not 100%.  I've had a few runs, but I haven't pushed myself in running or lifting.  Tomorrow that may change.  Believe it or not, I miss my intervals and my tempo run.  I don't miss lifting.  Blech.

This is EXACTLY how I look when I'm not bitter and I don't miss lifting.

Also, because I'm old and stupid, I've forgotten which marathon book I had decided to buy, so I had to order them all at the library again so I can figure it out.  Marathon training starts soon, Peeps!

I have some more to write, but I need to process a little bit before I get to what I really want to write about this year.  May is a crazy month, what with the Cleveland race and the end of the school year.  I'm trying to get out of my head, but life isn't making it easy for me.

Is May this crazy for you?

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Deer, Turkey, and Goats OR Run While You Can.

In my first year of teaching, I was in the middle of a lesson on Comparison/Contrast with my sophomores.  They were very giggly, unusually giggly for 8:00 in the morning.  As I taught, I cautiously checked my fly, my hair, my nose, anything that I thought might be the reason for the mirth.  Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.  "What?  WHAT?!  What are you laughing at?" I demanded.

"We thought you did it on purpose," they said.

"WHAT DID I DO ON PURPOSE?"

"Look down," they said, and then the whole classroom lost their minds.

I was wearing two different shoes.  One was brown; one was black.  One had a buckle; the other didn't.  They had two different heel heights.  I had been wearing them since 6:30 that morning, and the only way I noticed was after the class told me.

I would like to say that I have grown since then, but this morning, as I got out of the car to meet my running peeps, Shelby took one look at me and said, "Are those two different shoes?"

Jen said, "I wasn't going to say anything.  I thought there might be a reason."

I looked down, and this is what I saw:

I meant to do that.

At least they are the same kind of shoe this time.  Sigh.

This did not stop me from having a fantastic morning run with Shelby and Jen.  We started on the Bike and Hike and quickly changed our minds when we saw the ice coating the path.  The roads in Peninsula were perfect for an eight mile run in 40-something degree weather.  We all agreed to take our time, and we were rewarded with plenty of sights, starting with some deer on the Bike and Hike.

Our next stop was to look at these turkeys:

I wanted to tell them, "Fly!  Fly for your feathery lives!"  Then I remembered that turkeys can't fly.

It was really cool to make gobbling sounds at the turkeys until we noticed that they were pecking at a downed turkey, and then it turned really creepy when we realized that turkeys are cannibals.

Then we saw some adorable goats:

After owning goats as a child, you would think I'd be immune to them because, really, they are nasty, but just look at them! LOOK AT THESE GOATS!

We spent the time talking about future races and catching up with our lives.  I loved my run with Jen and Shelby.  It's so good to be out with other runners during the long run.  I often convince myself that I'm better off by myself, but when I can find a group where I feel I belong, well, that is incredible.

This is EXACTLY how I look when I feel I belong.  Also, we look like we just finished an 80's Jazzercise video.  I promise we aren't wearing leg warmers.

Up next week:  The Home Run for the Homeless on Thanksgiving Day and Vertical Runner's Tryptophan Run on Sunday.

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Increasing My Pace on the Long Run

     "Mom looks like a train wreck!" my daughter shouted when I entered the house this morning after my Sunday morning long run.  She and my son giggled and danced around me as I hobbled to a mirror.  I was sopping wet, muddy, red-faced, chafed under my arms, and I had last night's mascara dripping down my face, making me look more like a sad raccoon than a train wreck.

     "I look like a train wreck," I thought, "but I feel like a goddess."

     I had just run ten miles in a torrential downpour, without music, and my average pace was 10:16/mile.  For the most part, I was comfortable during this run; the proof is that I was able to maintain a conversation with my two running peeps the whole time.

     We ran along the Towpath in Canal Fulton, a place I had never visited, and it was my first time running that part of the Towpath.  During our run, we saw three snapping turtles.

This looks exactly like the turtles we saw: poised, ready to bite off our toes.

We saw a few Great Blue Herons.

When they fly, they look like pterodactyls.

We saw lots of frogs.  We saw geese.

Geese are scary and nasty.

  We also saw two deer.  I won't show you a picture of a deer because I always show you pictures of deer.  I know your limits.

     When you need to increase your pace, there are lots of ways to go:  fartleks, intervals, ladder drills, tempo runs, hill drills.  I try these on at least one short run a week, but I know I should do more.  The best way to increase your pace is to get comfortable with running faster.  Period.  I have been slacking off on my long runs by going much more slowly than I should, even with the advice of going at least one minute per mile slower than half marathon pace.  I knew I could do better, but how could I push myself?  Shelby, from The Ohio Runner's Network, advised me to hook up with Jen and Michael on my long runs and my tempo runs, and today was the day I was finally able to do it.

     One of the best parts about this run was that my Garmin crapped out on me (yet again) because of the rain (It was a monsoon, I tell you!), so I had to rely on Michael and Jen to dictate the pace.  I'm not a good follower, so it was good for me to match their cadence, and I listened when they told me to slow down or to maintain our current pace.

     They were so kind to slow down their regular "slow run" pace for me, and at the end of the run I followed our badass high fives with a truly grateful hug for them both.

     You wanna increase your pace?  Run with someone faster, and run naked.  No, Dirty-Mind, I didn't mean without clothes; I meant without a watch or music.  Let the faster person dictate your pace and give you the information you need when you need it, not when you want it.  Carry on a conversation while you run.  Look at the scenery to block out your discomfort.  When you need to, go deep inside your head, concentrate on your feet and your breathing, and look ahead to the finish.  That is what I did, and it got me through.

     I look forward to getting more and more comfortable with a faster "slow run" pace.  If my mascara streaks didn't scare off Michael and Jen, I hope to run with them again!

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Walking on Sunshine

This morning I ran almost seven miles in Sand Run Metropark.  It was beautiful, hilly, and fast.

This morning I saw eight deer.

I'm not going to write about those experiences.

This morning I joined some of my students to participate in the Medina Walk out of the Darkness Suicide Awareness Event.  A large crowd showed up at 9 am on a chilly but sunny morning to walk 4.5 miles.  That crowd raised over nine thousand dollars.

Most of you know I am an English teacher at Medina High School.  This year I am teaching a Blended Learning Rhetoric and Composition class.  Blended Learning is a combination, or "blend," of face-to-face classroom instruction and online instruction.  Part of the philosophy that I embrace about Blended Learning is that it facilitates community involvement.  I want my students to strive to be good citizens of their school, their community, their state, their country, and their world.  If you'd like more information about Blended Learning, check out my shared blog on the Blended Learning Journey in our school.

I'm getting to our walk in the sun in a minute. If you can hang on, I'd like to show you part of our community project: a video to promote suicide awareness:




I can't watch that without getting a little teary-eyed.  Teen suicide has knocked the tar out of our community in the last year and a half, and my students decided they wanted to do something about it. Along with bringing community members together to film this video, they raised five hundred dollars and donated it to the Battered Women's Shelter of Medina.  This community walk was a way for us to think about those we lost and talk about ways we can contribute to the solution.

We walked for 4.5 miles through streets, parks, and neighborhoods, and we talked.  I try not to lead my students, in class and out, because I want them to learn to lead themselves and others.  I try to listen rather than talk.  This was a perfect opportunity for me to listen.  The students talked and laughed about Prom.  They poked fun at each other and at me.  Then, as often happens on walks or runs, they got serious.  One student told me why she was glad that she took my course.  She told me what she learned and how it made her feel.  Another told me that she felt that our class had bonded more than any of her other classes at the school.

Every one of those students told me that they were so glad to get up and walk together in the sunshine at nine in the morning.

It was perfect.

Bright smiles, glowing faces

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Lunging the Turtle

This morning I attempted a divided twelve-miler.  Shall I break this one down?  "Attempted" means I didn't reach twelve miles; "divided" means I did seven miles with Leigh, took a gel, changed my shirt, and finished the rest with the Towpath Turtles.  "Twelve" means. . .wait, why am I parsing this? Are you dwelling on my pain?  You're a sadist, aren't you?  AREN'T YOU?

Ok, I've settled down.  Let's move on.

It was a gorgeous morning, perfect temperature for running in a simple long-sleeved shirt and either capris or tights.  I chose to run at Lock 29 in Peninsula, which is a common starting place for runners and bikers.

Beautiful shot of the Cuyahoga River at Lock 29

 It is also a common ending place because of its proximity to The Winking Lizard, one of the best places I know to blow your fitness on beer and wings.

I have written about Leigh before in my post called "Pace?  Isn't That a Salsa?"  She is still about half my age and at least forty pounds lighter than me (see, I've lost weight or hyperbole since that post!), and she still kicks my ass.  I had a plan, though.  This time I brought my phone, and I made sure to take pictures so that she would have to slow down or stop.  I am tricky, all right.  Here is my first shot:

Say hello to my leetle friend!

This is the first deer we saw on the path.  She didn't even want to move when we came up on her.  She just looked at me like, "Please!  You're in MY HOUSE now!  YOU move!"

Leigh and I had a great talk (I made sure she did most of the talking--I am tricky, all right), and we kept the pace at around 10:20. . . except when we didn't.  Anyway, we had a fun run together in a beautiful environment; I was thankful to be able to run, and I was thankful to run with her. I kept thinking, Well, I will make sure to run more slowly in the second part of my run.

Fail.

I was excited to see the Towpath Turtles today as I haven't run with them in quite a while, and four of us got caught up in conversation, and, well. . . I had to resort to my stalling tactic:

Look, Guys!  A bale of Turtles!

They didn't fall for it, so I had to run extra fast to catch up to them. . .and so it goes.  Jen totally took advantage of the situation after the turnaround and sprinted past me, calling back, "I've got to do this while I can!"  Thanks, Badass.

In short, I came up short--11.67.  I didn't even have the energy to push it to 12, and geez, I end up making up that distance by going back and forth in front of my house ALL THE DAMN TIME!!!

Lesson learned:  Do NOT go too quickly on Long, Slow Distance Day.  

Finally, I leave you with Mike Polk's Easter message (if Mike Polk OR Easter offends you, don't watch this):

Attitude of Gratitude

Runners bitch.  A lot.  We gripe about our runs (too hilly, too fast, too slow, too rainy, too cold, too hot).  We gripe about our weight (too heavy, not enough muscle tone).  We list the litanies of our physical sufferings (foot, ankle, shin, calf, quad, glutes, core).  We talk about our GI problems in great, disgusting detail, and other runners actually listen to this crap!  (See what I did there?)  Why, just the other day, I actually POSTED ON FACEBOOK that my left butt cheek hurt.  Who really wants to know that?  You know who?  Runners.

This is EXACTLY how I look when my left leg is killing me.

After five months of no running, no cardio, no fun, and lots of drinking, I am back in the game.  Boy, that game is tough.  Last Sunday I went on a trail run in Peninsula with my friends from The Ohio Runners Network.  I knew we would be running slowly (because it's a trail), and I thought the soft surface of the snowy trail would be a great way for me to try a long run.  Also, I'm an idiot.

We started with a big hill.  Then I slipped with both feet into an icy stream while trying to cross.  At that point we were at mile 2, so I knew there was no turning back.  I went forward, and you know what?  I survived, and it was ok.  I even kept up with the group.

TORN members slogging up the hill.  I took the picture so I could catch my breath before climbing.  Plus, my socks were wet.

This is EXACTLY how I look when I am happy to survive a trail.  With wet, frozen feet.  I'm in the purple jacket, hamming it up.

What does this have to do with gratitude?  Hang on, I'm getting there.  Geez, you're so impatient!

This morning I went for a run around the neighborhood.  It seemed like this was not going to be a great run:  icy sidewalks and 15 degree temps.  My running peeps had gone earlier in the morning, and they had posted that it had been a mistake.  This put me in a trepidatious mood, to say the least, and it really affected the run.  The cold air made breathing difficult, and that made running difficult.  There was no ice on the streets, so I decided to stay in my immediate neighborhood instead of doing our normal 4-mile loop.  This, of course, gave me an excuse to cut the run to 3 miles.

I started feeling really bad.  I kept glancing at my Garmin (mistake), and I kept comparing my pace to my old pace.  I tried to focus on the music and my feet, which helped for a little bit.  Finally, I just promised myself that I would walk as soon as I hit three miles.  When I did hit three miles, I could see my house, so I made myself keep running until I got there, so at least I added another .26 miles.  I was sweaty, out of breath, and I felt like vomiting.  I felt defeated until I actually remembered to turn on my brain.

Wait a minute. . .I'm upset because running was hard today?  Three months ago, I thought running would be IMPOSSIBLE. Today I did three miles!  I didn't stop, and my foot didn't hurt!  I am healthy; I can get back my strength and stamina.

I am grateful.  Life is good.  This year I resolve to remember that.

On a final note, I did have a reminder on the trail of how lucky I am to run, even with frozen, soaked feet.

Meet my friend, Lucky.

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