My Run

Do any of you say this?  "I have to get my run in."; "I'm going for my run now."  "Yes, I'd love to take a weekend trip away, but when am I going to get my long run in?"

The simplest substitution of "my" for "a" is quite a big deal and it wasn't until this weekend I really gave it any thought - and how much sense it makes.

I rarely feel like I actually own anything in my life that isn't considered completely material.  Yes, I own the caramel-colored boots I am wearing today and it's complimenting outfit.  Yes, I own my car, other tangible things. And I say things like "my job" or "my marriage" but the factors that go into both of those don't mean I truly own them.  My job, for example - I have ownership in that I fill that role, and it's up to me whether or not it grows, progresses or is a dead end.  However, my employer, Cornell University library, owns the position in that I could, relatively speaking, be terminated at any time for any reason (hopefully very doubtful!)  Same with my marriage, or friendships since those are two way situations where the other matters.  I mean, I may love my husband to death, but should he not feel the same, I'm not owning that (again, very doubtful, I know he loves me to pieces!)  So, while I still can attach "my" to these wonderful things in my life, there should really be "my*" as I can't take full responsibility in most cases.  The other factors in the way contribute to the success or failure.

My run?  I really feel like it's all mine, though.  It's the one part of my day where I determine how it goes.  I can go out there, shuffle along at a "smell the roses" pace, or push like I am in a race.  I can do it solo, with a group, inside or out.  I make the final decision of how far I go - making sure (most times) that my Garmin registers the exact mileage I want.  It's my meditation, prayer, and for the control Type A in me, gives me a great sense of ownership and pride.

It also explains a lot when I can't do my run why I get upset.  If I'm injured, there is nothing I can do.  Or if the weather is bad enough that my life would be risked being outdoors, like the hail/lightening storm of 2009 in Towasentha Park (another story, another time!), my run gets robbed from me.  When my run does not happen, it's not really mine anymore because it does not exist.  But in the motions of the present, during my run, I have completely assumed control (Rush reference).

Running to Stand Still

I'm scheduled to run 8 miles this Saturday.  I have not done this since July, and I know I can do it, so why is it so daunting?  Obvious, I know.  Making this into a Big Deal should not be necessary - but it is.

Therefore, I've been thinking of splitting up my miles as I edge towards the long runs within the 8-12 mile mark before my first half marathon of the year.  Running 4, then 4 seems like a good plan, and again, not necessary, but my mind can wrap around it and I see success in the layers.

I used to think this was not the way to go about doing things.  After all, when you are in a race, you are continually running - ideally catching water from the little paper cups you grab out of volunteers' hands while striding alone just to keep going and not waste precious milliseconds time.  Why would I do otherwise in a training run?

I believe I have written on this before, but running and not stopping for me was a sign of true running form and stamina.  It wasn't until I attempted my first 10 miler with friends, when we took it 5 miles at a time, that I realized the breakdown was OK - and even smart.

Besides, these are training runs.  I'm no Olympic Qualifier - just a running gypsy gone free into the wind...

Psh - right.  Let's be honest: I'm trying to get done as quickly as possibly because God knows there is a HUGE mug of coffee waiting my arrival at the end.  And I live for that.

I digress... Chopping up your runs into pieces can make the training manageable and even more fun.  It's sort of like approaching your long runs as you would a big project.  You set out your goals, deliverable and objectives.  If you are super organized, you make charts or bulleted lists and follow accordingly.  I know personally, my desk is a landfill of post-it notes and scraps of paper ranging from index-card sized to full letter size - all containing notes and to-dos that all contribute towards a bigger goal.  It keeps me on track, leaves me feeling accomplished when I can cross off items (or discard into the recycling bin) and shows my progression through some of the muddier tasks.  When I approach my training in this fashion, I can mentally feel hopeful about the outcome that lies ahead.

So, even if I have to stop a few times to take a breather on my long training runs and break them up into segments (even if they don't seem so long to some), it reassures me to get the job done.  Come race day, I will feel confident to have all the pieces I worked on come together for the one main event.

Of course - only that race day can determine what happens out on the road.  But, that's always another story ;)

Wintering

Winter has finally showed up in central NY this week, bringing snow, ice and freezing temperatures. It's January, so I can't complain like usual.

In fact, even after my snowwy long run yesterday (more on that in a bit), I ventured out today and stomped out a good 5k in 10f temps. Other than my chin and cheeks, I was warm in the sun and the snow, dare I say, looked pretty. This is coming from a woman who believes snow is as pretty as a landfill - definitely by time "spring" rolls around, the earth resembles a dump with black slush and mud.

Yesterdays run wasn't as pretty and instead quite treacherous. I ran with my flakes in our usual paved parkway, which hadn't seen a plow since the overnight snow accumulation. Running 7 miles in 7 inches of snow took me down to a humorous 11 minute mile pace! However, this was made up in the amount of high knees that needed to be done to get over the snow.

Th course ran 3.5 miles out in deep snow and on the way back, we saw the plows came through. Great! I thought - until I realized plowed away snow unveiled a nice lay of ice underneath. Enter Jill falling and slipping once, slowing down even more, and putting foot in mouth after exclaiming my trail shoes would save me from tumbles (they did last year in the wintry weather!)

So last night, I went to my local secret non-running store: BassPro. Not only have I gotten all my insulated winter clothing there fore cheaper prices, they had what all the other smart kids were wearing yesterday - YakTraks. For $20, I pretty much bought the equivalent of tire chains for m sneakers. Naturally, as our roads never get plowed out here in dee countree, I had to try them out today. First impressions? Pretty good. I don't trust them 100%, but they give me some reassurance.

Succinctly said, I spend a good deal investing in winter running resources. But here's why.

I definitely feel like a bad girl running the day after my long run since I am still being careful with all the injury proneness I deal with. It was also bone chilling cold, as indicated by the many treadmill related FB posts this morning. Something bit me to go out though, and I knew the sun would keep me warm with the blankets of snow around me. Sure enough, I was too layered up and sweating my buns off. There is something so energizing about running in the cold. Physically, it wakes your body up and gets the blood pumping. Mentally, conquering the elements gives you an ego boost, the one that makes you smile when you hear everyone else say "you're crazy!".

Un-goals for 2012

Last year, on New Year's Day, I registered for my first marathon.  I made it another goal to find a group of runners to run with regularly and could keep up with me. ( and by keeping up with me, I mean staying way back in the "dust zone").

 

That second goal was very successfully achieved.  The first one, no matter my intentions, was not -and it bothered me immensely longer than it should have.  So, I think this year, I am going to resolve to set some new year un-goals for running.

1. Get better, in "general".  I'm still on the comeback from the summer disaster, from a Christmas eve sprained ankle and general aches and pains associated with getting way out of shape and putting on extra weight.  I want to feel stronger again, healthier and harvest a positive mental state.  I won't lie and say that one and only (probably mismarked from the outlet) size (very small number) skirt in my closet is something would like to get above my right thigh again, but, unlike in the past, I want to ignore the vanity numbers and focus on vitality in my running and health.

2. Do more yoga.  I rented a yoga DVD on Netflix because I want to continue working on strength through balance. The DVD I got was fantastic. By the end, my whole body felt open and limber.  Then, I started some quick and dirty internet research on running and yoga and it looks as though the marriage is a positive one.  Not that I am on track to becoming a die hard yogi, but it's something I want to experiment with, just because.

3.fuggediboutit.  I've tried being the runner who wanted to PR everything, analyzed the mile splits and count the miles run in a year.  Sometimes I still care about pace, but that's not always fun or rewarding.  In fact, it has caused some downright awful race experiences.  I won't be giving up my garmin anytime soon, but miles and smiles matter more than time.

4.  Cut the w(h)ine.  Quit complaining so much at the expense of a few self-deprecating laughs.  Stop continuing on the path of being known as the Lake Effect Run Club lush.  (note:  it was the holidays, alright?)

Well, these sound like real goals, I know.  But, I'm taking my running day by day, being thankful for the good runs I've had, and leaving the bad ones out on the road.  Maybe by mid spring I will have a different mindset.  Maybe I will get hurt again or be a better, faster, sleeker runner than I've ever been.  Who knows. "I can't stop thinking big".