Tuesday, July 26, 2011

On Giving Up

Dear Portland Marathon --

It was a fun dream, and for a small while, I enjoyed preparing. But, I think it would be better for both of us if we went our own separate ways. Have fun, I'll be thinking of you October 9th as I lament my lack of will while I stuff my face with birthday cake and bourbon.

Love,
Kristen

******

Yeah. It really came to that. I went out for a 9-mile run tonight, one that was supposed to be taken care of over the weekend. I hit mile 5 when the sun completely disappeared, the wind picked up, and I got goosebumps. In the middle of a run. On the 26th of July.

I know the rest of the country seems to be stuck in the middle of an inferno and that I should really enjoy the cold and complete lack of sun and the unending wind. And I'm sure that I would, with some perspective. Thing is, we had a really difficult spring after a fairly normal winter. I'm ready for some sunshine or something that has some semblance of a real summer. You know, temperatures greater than 62F?

What are the reasons I run in the first place? It keeps the weight off and allows me to be belligerently enthusiastic about food. It helps with my body image issues and normally instills a bit of an endorphin high, which helps me stay happy. It burns stress, it gives me some time to myself. I used to love it because it was a way to get outside for an hour a day. But in the summer that never was, I hate being outside. I hate the fact that I haven't really run in the sun yet this year (excepting my half marathon in San Diego) and that I'm freezing by the time I finish even double digit mileage runs. Every single time I set out for a run these days, it's an obligation. I am not enjoying it.

I have to confess that it's been enough to convince me to skip training runs. I'm feeling out of shape and hopeless. Cripes, I couldn't even finish 9 miles today. Sure, I had a great 13-miler two weeks ago, but 13 is easy. 26 takes a full commitment, and I am not where I need to be. It takes a ton of endurance and strength and a force of will that I don't have this year. Any emotional strength will need to be devoted to keeping myself from completely breaking down from lack of sunshine. It doesn't help that, as soon as I signed up for this race, my weekends from mid-May to mid-September proceeded to fill up. It was impossible to arrange anything around an insane traveling schedule, especially really long training runs. Before I even set out for a chilly jaunt around Seattle, I am exhausted. I am burnt out. And I think i know my limits.

This certainly doesn't mean that I'm giving up on running. The body image issues certainly haven't gone to pasture - something I'll probably have to deal with my entire life. So it goes. And it's not that I hate running. I just hate the weather, I hate spending this much time in it, and I hate constantly feeling like I'm behind of where I need to be. Maybe the lack of obligation will help me remember how much I used to love it, maybe the sun will come out and I'll feel happy again. Maybe someday I *will* tackle the 26.2 miles that so many other people have been able to do. For now...my main goal is to actually get to a point of enjoying it again.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Cajones

Yep, that really is the title of my post today.

I forget sometimes that running is as much mental as it is physical. You have to learn to expect pain and push yourself through it if you're ever going to improve. Gasping lungs, screaming quads, burning glutes...it's actually kind of easy compared to fighting the urge to stop. And of all people, I feel like endurance athletes have the greatest mental fortitude. They push themselves through all of it to add distance, to improve times, to be king of whatever mountain that they choose to tackle.

My motivation has, as of late, been lacking. I discussed a lot of my excuses in my last post, but even while running, I have fallen victim to the seductive suggestion of rest. "It's okay, I have 100 days of training left..." Clearly, this will not do. My prerogative yesterday was to tackle that, to retrain my will, to redevelop the cajones that got me back into running and crossing the finish line with a PR. I figured the best way for me to do that was to run exhausted. This proved to be much easier than I expected.


I think anyone who has made their way from Lake Union to the top of Capitol Hill can tell you that the Eastlake stairs constitute a formidable beast. With an elevation gain of nearly 500 ft in less than a mile, they pose one of the more difficult climbs in this fair city. Running them once is insane enough, but I was really looking for flat-out, ready to cry exhaustion. While one round on these stairs was probably enough to qualify me as exhausted, I pushed myself twice. The idea was to put myself in such an uncomfortable position that I would promise my first-born child if it meant I could stop and walk -- but push through and take on a 4 mile run...without stopping, of course :)





All I can say is "mission accomplished." After that second ascent, I damn near died. My lungs felt worse than I've experienced in all my life, and my legs, already jelly from my Wednesday "step 'n sculpt" class, decided to just go numb. At least I had lack of feeling on my side :) I wanted to quit so badly as I pushed myself up the hill through Volunteer Park. I will admit that the absence of cars and pavement made this climb much easier for me, but it was still hard. The entire time, my mind was yelling at itself: "This is for YOU! We're making you stronger, harder, better!" When I finally crested the zenith of my journey, I thought that my lungs would explode and that my legs would fall out from under me. Luckily, I had a good mile or so of descent to my favorite running trail in all the world, and the only real expectation was to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I finished exhausted, having found my smooth on Interlaken. It's like I hit cruise control at a pace that was *just faster* than comfortable, which brought me to the finish line for the day. I was exhausted, but I was too pleased with myself to be upset.

Note to self: this exercise is worthwhile. The mental training is huge and my legs feel fantastic today.

How do you train your brain to push through those times when you want to give up?