All We Need is Just a Little Patience

I've succumbed to quoting Guns & Roses. Judge if you must, but, right now, it works.  "Said woman, take it slow, it will work itself out fine..."

Yesterday, I ran my longest training run for this marathon training cycle. I told myself going into it that I HAD to try and be patient and run it slow. Training programs, online guides, coaches, books on running, and even blog-o-sphere amateurs (literally EVERYONE) recommends that you run your long runs S.L.O.W. REALLY, Really, slow...like an entire minute (or more!) slower than race pace. Run slow, take it easy, and get your body ready for the time it takes to complete the race. The theory is you are building your endurance for race day. Slower=Easier, right?? Um, yeah, not for some of us. Namely, me.

Patience and I are not friends. Pretty much. Now, Blue Cheese and I, on the other hand...but I'm getting distracted, and, now I'm hungry, too. Anyway, my point (I had a point...maybe?), was that it is hard to not want to run these long runs faster than 1 minute slower than pace. Why not? I feel fine 25 or 30 seconds slower than pace, and then I'm all done SO much sooner. Which means more time for enjoying other things, like, well, Blue Cheese. Duh.

But, alas, not being patient has hurt me before in races, so...I promised (cross my heart, and hope to die) myself that yesterday I would run slower. I hoped I wouldn't actually die---for certain, the largest risk being uncontrolled boredom. Believe it or not, I lived to tell the story about running a slow-paced long run. Took FOREVER. 3 hours, 18 minutes (23.16 miles) to be exact. And, I ran 35-40 seconds slower than race pace. Ok fine, it wasn't a full minute, but as close as I could manage. I was kind-of, sort-of, a little bit PATIENT. Let's just say that I was “patient-ish.”

I have no trouble being patient when I'm not the one running. The last few weekends, I've been a spectator at several races. I LOVE being at races, even when I'm not running. The Shamrock Run last weekend was filled with runners of all abilities and ages. It's fun to see the top finishers sleek their way across the line, the mid-packers who run their hearts out for a PR, and even those people who almost don running shoes and spandex shuffling, huffing and making their way down Naito Parkway. This year, for us, the Shamrock Run was all about Jude (our 9 year-old) racing for the first time in a 5K.

I won't lie and say that the 12-week Couch-to-5K training program was easy, fun, and always filled with laughter for Jude. Just like I won't lie and say that natural childbirth doesn't hurt. I'm not the woman who says, "just a tickle, some pressure, then the baby crowned." HA! Well, back to the running stuff.

Many of the training runs were fun, but, there were times when he REALLY didn't want go. He'd rather have done homework, cleaned his room, or given the dog a bath than gone running. Seriously. As we reminded Jude of his commitment to the race, I often thought about the life lesson he would be learning by slowly training for something, and then accomplishing something he didn't think he could possible finish. Wowness, right? Well, at times, it didn't feel like it. It feel a bit like forced coercion.

As it turned it out, however, Jude's Race Day was awesome. He ran the whole way, and he ran faster than he had on any of his training runs. Race day really can bring out the competitor in every racer. For now, Jude is enjoying his "off-season." I overheard him saying he*might* consider another 5K race this summer with Grandma M. My mother, a 61 year-old ex-smoker, jogging along with my son. Now that, I would love to watch.

Scott, Easter Bunny and Maya

Today, we got to watch Scott finish up at the Hop Hop Half Marathon. What a beautiful morning for a race! I was so excited to see how he would do today as the race conditions were perfect, and he had been training hard for this race. He nabbed a HUGE (I mean almost three minutes!!) PR. The course also allowed for gorgeous views of the Colombia River, and Scott got to mingle with the Easter Bunny while sipping a yummy Mimosa. How many people can say that?? Not many.

The last few weeks have left me feeling really proud of the accomplishments of my family. Both Jude and Scott have raced their best and Race Day brought their best running abilities to the fore front. They've both really inspired me to race well next month. The new and improved “patient-ish” me is ready to put myself to the test.  "...Said, sugar, take the time 'cause the lights are shining bright."

What is hard or challenging for YOU in running/racing? Are you able to hold back on training runs, but still dig deep when the time comes?

Do you have your sights set on finishing a new distance? Or improving in a certain area (like speed or running longer endurance training runs)? 

Running with stitches, and yearning for beaches

Maybe, it's the Wasabi Peas talking (yes, those little spicy crunchers are a favorite snack. And, yes, I pretend they are healthy), but this has been a tough last couple of days.

On Thursday, I hurt myself in the kitchen. I admit it. I was daydreaming AND in a hurry. This was a terrible combination. Apparently, my common sense had also checked out. I was using a hand blender to quickly chop some spinach a little more fine for casserole, and when it invariably got clogged up, I put my left index finger amongst the blades. That's when it happened. Yep. I didn't unplug it, and I didn't use a fork. And, my right hand bumped the switch. Whirrzz, went the blade. FUCK! went me. Yes, I knew it was Bad. Bad. Bad. How could I be so Dumb. Dumb. Dumb?? I was embarrassed more than anything else.

The story continued with my kids being sweet and helpful (bringing me band-aids and stirring the dinner). Then my wonderful family ended up taking me to Urgent Care for 6 stitches, Oh, and a Tetanus shot, too. The only cool part was when the nurse took my vitals and was impressed with my 45 BPM heart rate. “Long distance runner?” Why yes. I mean sort of, anyway.  After all, a low heart rate is about the only thing I have in common with Kara Goucher. But, I'll take it.

Anyway, my first question to the doctor was to make sure I could run my 10K race on Saturday. This was the second of seven races for the ORRC 10K Series. He said, “Oh, I wouldn't restrict you from anything like that.”. Thank goodness. I didn't bother to ask about the 20-miler I had planned for Sunday. Should be fine. No problemo, right?
 

Thursday night, after the local anesthetic wore off, my finger hurt. A ton. Like so much that I couldn't stop thinking about it. My nice husband brought me some ibuprofen. Good stuff that took the pain down a bit, but I still didn't sleep all that well. I took 2 of those little pills every 4 hours for the next 24 hours. It helped, but by the end of the day, this finger still throbs, stings, and swells a little.



My race bib, award medal, & bandaged finger

This week, of course, my marathon training plan required a 20 mile long run. Given, my experience with "two-timer training", I decided to do it after the race. Saturday's race day came. I didn't take any ibuprofen because I didn't want it to affect my race performance. The finger didn't really hurt, just stung a little during the race. A fellow racing friend tried to give me a low five on the out-and-back course---but I avoided it because THAT certainly would have hurt. The race was tough, and not a PR, but I ran as fast as I could and I ended up finishing as the 3^rd woman overall. My finger started hurting again that evening. Figures. I was hoping it was all better. Yea..um, No. At least it was AFTER the race, right?

On Sunday morning, I got up at 6 am, filled my hydration belt and my handheld water bottle with water and coconut water (decided to give it a try) gathered my selected flavors of GU—today, it was Chocolate Mint and Vanilla Bean. I also made sure I used plenty of Body Glide to avoid any chaffing (somehow I ALWAYS seem to find a new place I forgot), Then, I headed out the door for my 20 mile long run. It was kind of cold, 30-degrees, but crisp, no rain and some nice sun breaks on the latter half. Amazingly, my legs weren't really sore. I guess all the extra stretching, foam rolling, and massage I had done really did help. Another good lesson learned.

After the run, which ended up being 21 miles, my feet felt achy, sore, and completely worn out like the meat my kids chew but refuse to swallow (gross, I know, but true). My finger was stingy and my left shoulder where I got the tetanus shot ached. I felt like I'd been beat up by an army of killer rodents who liked to bite and knew Karate. Solution? Ice bath.

I jumped into my bathtub for a nice ice bath (that's a joke since ice baths are torture) which is situated upstairs an is the place where my kids take their baths and showers. I swear the cold water was colder today. I hyperventilated more than usual, and never seemed to get “used” to it. Damn. I wanted to put my finger in the water to see if would feel good on it, but decided against it. Doc said to keep it “dry and covered.” Ok. Fine. As I laid there amongst the various unicorns, Lego men, and floating fish, my thoughts rested on an idea.

Yes. The Barbie Mermaids looked enchanting in their cute shell-shaped bikini tops, beaded necklaces and colorful hair. Vacation. Warm, sunny vacation. Ahh...

Some place sunny and warm

All the stress of this week made me really yearn for a relaxing, lay-on-the-beach or read-a-book-by-a- nice-pool-kind of trip. Mexico? Vegas? Or just over to Central Oregon? In reality, it doesn't even matter where. I am just dreaming of a relaxing time where my body aches and pains are just the normal running-related ones I'm used to, and that my usual common sense goes back to normal.