Once A Runner...

Get ready, Readers.  Today marks the first day of Trifecta Training and as such, the first of many posts regarding my incredible gains as a runner.  If you're a runner, you're bound to find my itty bitty increment improvements interesting (notice the alliteration? I'm good.).  If you're not a runner...you should be.  It's awesome.  It's addicting.  And you have the added bonus of being able to race with me, because I am dying for some running buddies! 

What exactly am I training for, you ask?  The Runner's World Half Marathon and Festival in October, right in Bethlehem!  (I say "right in" because it takes me less than hour to get there, and when you live in a town without even a grocery store, that's "right in.")  They are offering not one, not two, but THREE RACES!  Now, of course you can sign up for just one or two...but that just seems like something I would not do...So I'm doing all three!  Saturday it's the 5k followed by the 10k and Sunday it's the half.  I am looking to bust my Rock N' Roll Half time (2:37) and really don't think I'll have a problem. 

I took an easy 20-minute treadmill run today, increasing incline to decrease boredom (I am more of an outside runner, but the treadmill is fab for days I can't get outside) and was impressed with myself.  I know, never happens, right?  Today it DID.  I didn't feel the need for a walk break at all.  This may sound like a small step to you, but it's a giant leap for me.  That Shaun T has turned this runner into a cardio MACHINE.  I had to repeatedly remind myself that today's schedule called for an easy run and it's perfectly okay to not want to keel over.  Add in that I'm technically in recovery week with Insanity and today felt pretty restful.  (Except that all of my challenge groups are participating in a low-to-high plank hourly challenge - 10 an hour - and I'm setting an example by doing it too...)

Rock N Roll

Anyway - I kept a 5.0 mph pace for my easy run.  Not Speedy Gonzales, but not Me From Last Summer either.  Not even Me From This Past Winter.  That used to be my top speed, not my easy peasy lemon squeezy pace.  I just busted through ANOTHER wall.  Thank you for your applause, but really - the roses aren't necessary.  (I prefer crowns and tiaras.)

The best part of today, though - feeling like ME.  The iron levels seem to be evening out - or maybe it's just the return to running.  I love it.  It totally gets me high on endorphins.  I can't wait for my outdoor early morning run tomorrow.  And I promise - I will remember every detail of every step my little Ghosts take (although they will soon be traded in and take their place on the closet floor next to my Frees, as their tread is all gone)...because I know you'll be waiting and anticipating, wondering and worrying.  Fear not, dear Readers!  We, friends, are BACK ON TRACK. 

And you're running with me, right?  Oh YAY!

It's The Climb

 This is where I am at the end of the first interval of 99% of my training runs.  Within five minutes, I am far enough away from the main road to not hear traffic and far enough into my session to begin realizing how blessed I am to live where I do.  We may not have Starbucks or malls and we may have to drive more than 20 minutes to get anywhere...but look what we do have.  It's not a fair trade; we certainly claimed the long end of the stick.  At this point, I am more likely to run past fishermen than cars and am more likely to be alone than in the presence of fishermen.  It's a quiet beginning to a quiet run, just the way I prefer it.  If anything is going to throw me off on Sunday, it will be the chaos that accompanies every starting line.  Because from here, I move on to this:

More tranquility, more beauty, and even less signs of progress.  My usual company here consists of geese (although, those geese aren't always tranquil...) and the occasional farmer on his tractor.  If the stream is high enough and rapid enough, I like to lower the volume on my iPod so I can listen to the water rush by.  By the time I get here...

I am already feeling the zen of sneakers hitting asphalt, the evenness of my breathing, the energy pushing my legs faster.  To the right is the lake, where I'm likely to see more fishing enthusiasts and runners like myself.  This is when the rest of my world begins to fall away, when I forget about the laundry, any temper tantrums or bills to pay, and my mind shifts instead to what lies ahead.  Because from here, it's only a few miles to get to my favorite spot...

This is my treat, one I only get when I do distance training.  It's about ten miles out and if I want to go through here, I have to plan on at least two to three hours of run time.  I've previously described the "veggie portion" of my runs.  This is my double chocolate fudge cake, fresh out of the oven.  It's worth busting through any tiredness that tries to creep in to hear the gravel crunch under my feet and know that I have a good two miles to be snug in this trail before I re-enter the real world of painted lines and fast cars.  I swear, the best songs always play here and I do some of my clearest thinking along this path.  Many a blog entry has been formulated between these trees and many a problem solved.  If my race has any spots like this, I'll be golden come Sunday.

No matter how far I run or which route I take, I always start and finish on the same road, with the same hill.  Setting out, the downhill is a great warm up and spur to get my feet movin'.  Coming home...it is the bane of my existence.  There was a time, seven or so months ago, that I was barely able to walk back up.  It required everything I had to breathlessly climb this hill.  Now...I run it.  Slowly.  Awkwardly.  But I'm running.  This hill may not be the steepest I've encountered during my months of training, but it is the most symbolic.  I can't get around it.  This is the way home and the last few minutes of my run.  I can either make it count or I can decide my run is over at the base.  I decided long ago to make it count.  So while this picture may not seem impressive or beautiful to you...to me, it is a turning point not only in my physical strength, but my mental determination as well.  If I can conquer this hill after a 21+ mile run, I can certainly finish that marathon. 



The Garage Of My Dreams

Ideally, my favorite place to sweatitout is outdoors, just me and my Ghosts and my iPod.  Hours melt away and my head gets clear and I see a glimmer of just how far I've come in my training.  But what about those days I can't, for various reasons (children, weather, children, time, children), get out of the house?  Sadly, for now I am stuck in my living room, alongside a defunct treadmill (which I must remember to call about), a dilapidated card table serving as my computer desk, a pack-n-play filled with toddler distractions, and a recliner (the last remnant of our actual living room furniture).  It is, to put it mildly, not the most motivational area in which to work out.  I do have a mirror in which I can watch the upper 1/4 of myself complete exercises, and my determined stare is difficult to resist.  But still, I dream of a day when I (meaning: Hubby) turns our stuffed-to-the-gills-with-crap garage into a wide open space of workout mats, weight sets, and floor-to-ceiling mirrors to reflect my perfect form (hey, I have to assume it's perfect on the bottom 3/4 as well).

I can lose lots of workout minutes browsing Pinterest for home gym ideas.  I love the idea of old lockers for storage and wire baskets for pristine white towels with which to mop my sweat.  I envision a brand new set of Selecttech weights (replacing the mismatched sets purchased piecemeal from WalMart and Target over the years) anticipating my gloved hands.  They rest next to my working treadmill, complete with iFit and Jillian's voice telling me to "Step it up!"  Of course, I will have motivational posters plastered over every non-mirrored inch of wall space to remind me of what I'm working toward, those well-muscled, glistening bodies of fit persons flexed next to all-caps phrases refuting any and all excuses.  Out my window, I'll see my Olympic sized swimming pool and running track...Okay, I may have to give those up for a plastic wading pool and the street, but the rest is completely doable! 

Not only would I finally have access to SPACE allowing me to go all out all the time, I would have access to SPACE AWAY FROM THE CHILDREN.  I love them, I really really do...but they have this habit of not needing me until they catch me in the middle of a TurboFire Fire Drill or mid-crunchy Frog during Ab Ripper X.  The rule of "Don't ask Mommy questions while Mommy is working out unless they relate to your blood flow" never seems to quite sink into their adorable little heads.  They deem Dad unfit for settling fights over who must bathe first (it really doesn't matter which it is; they always want the opposite) or what the reading assignment is for bedtime (although it never changes).  Nor can Dad tell them where exactly to find their suddenly much desired Silly Putty, charm bracelet, or 3D glasses.  Only Mom can answer these riddles, and apparently, only in the midst of intense exercise.  Moments before I press play, I can say their names 100 times or tell them to complete their chores and receive no answer.  The moment I finish my cool down, they have no use for me.  It seems I am just as appealing to them as I am to myself during those sweaty breathless moments of P90X.  I suppose I can't really blame them, but still...I yearn for my own private garage-gym, paces away from the chaos of the mini M&M's.

Right now, I have forced the older boys into cleaning the aftermath of the hurricane that localized in their bedroom; my daughter lies in my bed with a cough and headache, quietly watching Sponge Bob; and the toddler is just about to go down for his own nap.  Whilst I have them all occupied, I plan to quietly slip into some spandex, mix up some E&E, and groove with Shaun T...until they catch me in my illicit activities...