Today was, for a myriad of reasons, an overly emotional day. I can be fine with these sorts of days when I can curl up in my papasan and cry it out away from the public eye, but between work and other plans, I was afforded no such privacy until I set out on my run today -- the first in the new year and, apart from the torrential inner dialogue, the best I've had in a long time. In a way, running has been the saving grace of my interpersonal interactions, especially when I'm upset. In frustration and anger and hurt, I used to write emails. They were confrontational and I often found myself regretting them almost immediately. These days, I set out to the pavement, composing a mental letter that I will not ever send off unless the problem at hand continues along its frustrating course or unless, through the clarity that the remainder of my run grants me, I happen upon the conclusion that my point deserves to be vocalized.
So, I set out with little, if any, agenda. I knew that I didn't want to push it too far, given that I'd taken about a week away from running to concentrate on snow adventures instead. But, I needed the solace that I seem to find best during longer runs. I went to the Space Needle, then worked my way into downtown, then returned back to SLU via Westlake. I don't even know how far it was, and surprisingly, it doesn't really matter. I was lost in my head for the entirety of it and while I finished with a little bit more resolve, I somewhat regret that I forgot to appreciate the run itself.
I spent a lot of my time on the pavement thinking about judgment. I am 27 years old, and through a number of my misadventures, I have made mistakes. I have paid dearly for some of them, but I have trouble regretting many because they have taught me a lot. Because of the adversity that I have inadvertently brought upon myself, I've been forced to find solutions, to abandon the freak-out stage, and actually just tackle the problem with as much tact and grace as I can muster. I am human. Humans mess up sometimes.
Not everyone I meet will like me. I think it's an intrinsic truth of existence that it is impossible to please everyone. Some people will hate me without justification. They will judge me without understanding the circumstances behind my behavior and beliefs. While I know that their opinions should not matter (I mean, really, I have such amazing friends who actually *like* me! - their friendship honors me and suggests that I"m doing something right), the caustic words and the unfair assumptions hurt.
Last night's run found me fixated on the less than flattering opinion of an acquaintance. I've been well aware of this individual's opinion for some time, but hearing it relayed to me yesterday by someone I hold in high regard, well, it pissed me off. It hurt my feelings and reduced me to tears. Insecurities welled up and took over and drove me to a harried, quick, angry stride, all the while accompanied by my own internal voice screaming at this individual, setting the stage for my circumstances and approach to life, relaying my pity for them ("How can you be so judgmental? You don't even really know me! You're too good and too wrapped up in your own perfect life to give me the time of day! And you're so miserable that you're going to fixate on my shortcomings? I feel sorry for you!"). But, ultimately, I was most upset that this individual so loosely presented his opinion to people who actually matter to me rather than approach me with it. It's a very "Seattle" way of doing things (read: passive aggressive) and I find it to be cowardly and disrespectful. If you're going to make proclamations about my morality, have the decency to express them to my face, rather than circulate unkind words behind my back.
And then, running past the twinkle lights on Westlake, I hit my smooth. I calmed down and listened to "My Wife, Lost in the Wild" by Beirut (one of my favorite songs EVER). This person is entitled to his opinion and frankly, he's not worth the time it would take me to attempt to alter it. I don't need his friendship. Hell, I don't really even need him to like me. After years and years of self deprecation and self-loathing, I finally like who I am. I am kind to people, I smile at strangers on the street, and I can do anything if I really set my mind to it. I am adventurous, intelligent, and tenacious. And if I am ever really questioning my self-worth, I can justify myself by the people who choose to keep company with me. They are creative and hilarious and brilliant and most importantly, they are some of the most beautiful personalities that I could imagine.
I apologize for the glimpse into my personal life, and I apologize for spitting all of this out here. Frankly, this blog centers around running and while I love posting my accomplishments, my routes, my victories and defeats, there is more to running than that. It is a mental release and many times, an emotional one too. Part of what fuels me is the need to sort out the personal details of my life -- sometimes a run is a great celebration of a new crush or an exciting accomplishment, or an escape from the stresses of work, or my way of coping with a personal tragedy. Anyway...I do feel better. Thank you for reading - happy days on the horizon, I promise :)
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Monday, January 3, 2011
The Dog Days are Over: Quick 2010 Recap
I love to write, which is not something I give away in this blog. I mean, a lot of my writing happens in my own moleskines and it's intensely personal. But, I kind of miss just throwing it out to the ether (or, rather, a very public forum that is read by people that I don't even know!). So, to satisfy a strange desire to just spit it out and let it be, here is a bit of my year for you:
First, I'd like to say that my title is somewhat misleading. There was a lot of character building, but I cannot claim to have had a terrible year. Conversely, I had some amazing times. Shoot, I had a blast. Here are the best five:
1) Interviewing for medical school. I felt professional and important and on the brink of something absolutely amazing. I would change people's lives! I would save them! And I had a chance to talk to people who had done that. Plus, in one of the most competitive years in the history of medical school admissions, I at least interviewed at more than one school. I put myself out there. I tried. Yes, I failed, which is one of the low points of this year for me, but the concurrent passing of my beloved grandmother put that (and many other things) into perspective. Furthermore, I weathered the rejection much more gracefully than I had ever expected of myself. In a way, that rejection has built me up more than success would have. I've had to build character, and for once in my life, I've failed at something that was my primary focus for over a year. It feels like time lost, but the fact that I am not only alive, but flourishing in other areas suggests that I'm coming into a healthier mindset than has previously been characteristic of me. It may not be a success, but it is a sign of personal development, and that in and of itself feels like a victory. It should be noted that a lot of this perspective was elucidated during very, very long runs :)
2) Bicycle touring. I went to the Olympic peninsula, the Middle Fork of the Snoqualmie River (twice!), Sulfur Creek Campground on the Suiattle River (twice - one was just riding from the trail head, the other was my overnight century and then some), and Green Mountain. I had an amazing time in all of them and realized that I am a distance sort of person.
Me, taking on my second 55-mile day in a row on my very first bike tour. You can tell it's my first because I severely overpacked:
Photo courtesy of Mr. Ball.
My buddy Sean, me, Chris, and Sarah returning home from the Middle Fork on a gorgeous day in June:
Photo courtesy of Mr. Sean
Dawn, during an overnight 100+ mile ride to our campground on the Suiattle River:
Photo courtesy of Mr. Jimmy
The Night Riders arrive at the trailhead after our overnight century. 12 miles to go, and I was absolutely exhausted:
3) My birthday. My friends came through and made me feel absolutely loved in so many different ways, whether it was posts on facebook, cards, an appearance at my Ballard birthday party, or participation in one of my favorite point83 rides, in which I was presented with a cupcake at an outdoor dance party that was held on top of the light rail tunnel in SODO. I have amazing friends, and they truly made this year one to remember.
Blowing out my birthday candle - I made a lovely wish. In lieu of a baked good, my friends bought me a Manhattan because they know me quite well:
The view from our outdoor dance club where my bike nerd friends sang happy birthday to me:
Photo courtesy of Mr. Deven
4) Ultimate. I cannot believe how much I missed it, and how much my confidence suffered without it. My best times come from the tournaments that I played with a team called Rainmakers -- we adopted other names for the tourneys, including Paparuda at Kleinman Interruption in Portland (we took 8th place, I think!), and Hawaii Four-Two-Oh at Hanford Howl in Richland, which we won :) I was supposed to play with them in Hawaii, but due to car trouble, I could not afford the trip. Maybe next year...
Throwing a lovely backhand (most unsexily) at Potlatch, where I played with Fish is Meat:
Photo courtesy of Ms. Ines
5) Last, but certainly not least, is running. How could it not be a high point? I got a PR in this year's Seattle half-marathon! I had no idea that I was capable of running a sub-two-hour race! The addiction has been renewed, I'm running again, and I think that it's offered me the "me time" that I need to sort through the more personal details of my life. Granted, this has not necessarily addressed the distress I've experienced in terms of achieving a more balanced expectation for my self-image, (I know, I know, and you have my sincere apologies for even bringing it up) but that's a different fish to fry this year. And though it hasn't solved my romantic quandaries, it has certainly helped me feel better about them. More than anything, the victory has been falling back in love with this sport and recognizing how much it gives back to me. I'm excited to see where it brings me this year (besides San Diego, of course!).
My race finish photo from the 2010 Amica Seattle Half. I kinda stole it from the company (sorry!), but you can tell how excited I was to blow my PR out of the water:
So, there you have it. My top 5. Clearly, I live a charmed life, and I know I am lucky for it. Thanks to all of you who have contributed so significantly - you know who you are. Thanks to everyone for reading. I hope that you were all able to ring in the new year happily and here's wishing you a happy, healthy 2011.
Cheers, y'all!
First, I'd like to say that my title is somewhat misleading. There was a lot of character building, but I cannot claim to have had a terrible year. Conversely, I had some amazing times. Shoot, I had a blast. Here are the best five:
1) Interviewing for medical school. I felt professional and important and on the brink of something absolutely amazing. I would change people's lives! I would save them! And I had a chance to talk to people who had done that. Plus, in one of the most competitive years in the history of medical school admissions, I at least interviewed at more than one school. I put myself out there. I tried. Yes, I failed, which is one of the low points of this year for me, but the concurrent passing of my beloved grandmother put that (and many other things) into perspective. Furthermore, I weathered the rejection much more gracefully than I had ever expected of myself. In a way, that rejection has built me up more than success would have. I've had to build character, and for once in my life, I've failed at something that was my primary focus for over a year. It feels like time lost, but the fact that I am not only alive, but flourishing in other areas suggests that I'm coming into a healthier mindset than has previously been characteristic of me. It may not be a success, but it is a sign of personal development, and that in and of itself feels like a victory. It should be noted that a lot of this perspective was elucidated during very, very long runs :)
2) Bicycle touring. I went to the Olympic peninsula, the Middle Fork of the Snoqualmie River (twice!), Sulfur Creek Campground on the Suiattle River (twice - one was just riding from the trail head, the other was my overnight century and then some), and Green Mountain. I had an amazing time in all of them and realized that I am a distance sort of person.
Me, taking on my second 55-mile day in a row on my very first bike tour. You can tell it's my first because I severely overpacked:
Photo courtesy of Mr. Ball.
My buddy Sean, me, Chris, and Sarah returning home from the Middle Fork on a gorgeous day in June:
Photo courtesy of Mr. Sean
Dawn, during an overnight 100+ mile ride to our campground on the Suiattle River:
Photo courtesy of Mr. Jimmy
The Night Riders arrive at the trailhead after our overnight century. 12 miles to go, and I was absolutely exhausted:
3) My birthday. My friends came through and made me feel absolutely loved in so many different ways, whether it was posts on facebook, cards, an appearance at my Ballard birthday party, or participation in one of my favorite point83 rides, in which I was presented with a cupcake at an outdoor dance party that was held on top of the light rail tunnel in SODO. I have amazing friends, and they truly made this year one to remember.
Blowing out my birthday candle - I made a lovely wish. In lieu of a baked good, my friends bought me a Manhattan because they know me quite well:
The view from our outdoor dance club where my bike nerd friends sang happy birthday to me:
Photo courtesy of Mr. Deven
4) Ultimate. I cannot believe how much I missed it, and how much my confidence suffered without it. My best times come from the tournaments that I played with a team called Rainmakers -- we adopted other names for the tourneys, including Paparuda at Kleinman Interruption in Portland (we took 8th place, I think!), and Hawaii Four-Two-Oh at Hanford Howl in Richland, which we won :) I was supposed to play with them in Hawaii, but due to car trouble, I could not afford the trip. Maybe next year...
Throwing a lovely backhand (most unsexily) at Potlatch, where I played with Fish is Meat:
Photo courtesy of Ms. Ines
5) Last, but certainly not least, is running. How could it not be a high point? I got a PR in this year's Seattle half-marathon! I had no idea that I was capable of running a sub-two-hour race! The addiction has been renewed, I'm running again, and I think that it's offered me the "me time" that I need to sort through the more personal details of my life. Granted, this has not necessarily addressed the distress I've experienced in terms of achieving a more balanced expectation for my self-image, (I know, I know, and you have my sincere apologies for even bringing it up) but that's a different fish to fry this year. And though it hasn't solved my romantic quandaries, it has certainly helped me feel better about them. More than anything, the victory has been falling back in love with this sport and recognizing how much it gives back to me. I'm excited to see where it brings me this year (besides San Diego, of course!).
My race finish photo from the 2010 Amica Seattle Half. I kinda stole it from the company (sorry!), but you can tell how excited I was to blow my PR out of the water:
So, there you have it. My top 5. Clearly, I live a charmed life, and I know I am lucky for it. Thanks to all of you who have contributed so significantly - you know who you are. Thanks to everyone for reading. I hope that you were all able to ring in the new year happily and here's wishing you a happy, healthy 2011.
Cheers, y'all!
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Running Buddy
One of the great things about coming home is running with one of my favorite running buddies, my adorable 7-year-old yellow lab named Oliver. We call him Ollie for short.
Me and Ollie en route to a run on the river:
Pumping ourselves up:
Ollie in a dead sprint:
He's a good dog, and always comes back.
Running buddy love:
Truth be told, he's not the best runner in the world unless he has something to chase. Unfortunately, I'm not quite fast enough to keep his interest. But, he's still a good dog and stays close, and he sure knows how to make his humans feel loved.
Me and Ollie en route to a run on the river:
Pumping ourselves up:
Ollie in a dead sprint:
He's a good dog, and always comes back.
Running buddy love:
Truth be told, he's not the best runner in the world unless he has something to chase. Unfortunately, I'm not quite fast enough to keep his interest. But, he's still a good dog and stays close, and he sure knows how to make his humans feel loved.
"Fueled by work stress, self-loathing, the need for redemption, and too much chocolate"
So, there I was on the 22nd of December. I'd eaten way too much food during the previous 24 hours, and not a lot of it was healthy -- as it happens, my office + holidays = sugar, fat, and strife, seriously, I think I received three or four boxes of chocolate, plus a really nice bottle of champagne. I was also under a fair amount of stress. We had a major push to the end of the year (we have a shut-down from Christmas until January 3), which translated to longer days. Monday and Wednesday both saw me exceed 10 hour work days and Tuesday would have been the same, if not for previously scheduled personal time. This particular Wednesday was even worse than the previous days because meetings ate nearly four hours of my work day. Furthermore, my pride was also a bit burned after Monday's run. I have my hunches as to why I had so much difficulty. Rather, I have scapegoats, but ultimately, I think that the weight of this unsatisfying should fall on my shoulders. I have nobody but myself to blame.
I needed to redeem myself. I needed sweet validation, a reminder that I am, in fact, worthy of being called a runner.
When I've previously felt this way, I would set out on a long, long run, typically breaching double digits in mileage. I'd knock out these big distances that scared me a little bit, then finish happily with a sense of accomplishment and feeling like a total bad-ass. The great thing about longer runs, besides the sense of accomplishment and hours of internal dialogue and music-listening, is that I tend to pace myself much better. I keep the distance in mind and it's good motivation to avoid overexertion. How else would I survive 10 or 11 miles? So, I tend to get a little bit too excited when I do "shorter" distances. We runners forget that, to most people, 10 kilometers is a lot. But, to us, it eventually becomes a relief: "Oh, today's only a 6 miler? Sweet! I can knock this out in less than an hour!"
So, fueled by work stress, self-loathing, the need for redemption, and too much chocolate, I put a sign on my cubicle for anyone searching for me ("Kristen's patience checked out a while ago. She has gone running to find it, she'll be back by 5:30pm"), threw on my running shoes, some shorts, and a long-sleeve tech shirt, set my phone's Pandora station to Jay-Z Radio, and set off for a 10K around Lake Union. I chose to approach this run differently than Monday's, running clockwise instead of counterclockwise. One major benefit of this approach is that I avoid starting my run on an incline. Another is that I get a decline while crossing the University Bridge, which seems way too long the other way.
It was a nice night. I started my run around 4:45pm, just after the sun had set and there was still a hint of light in the sky. The Christmas light tree on top of the space needle was already lit, as were the lights on the Queen Anne radio tower (two of my favorite Seattle Christmas traditions), and the purply light from the sky reflected off of the unusually smooth water on Lake Union. It was peaceful and lovely, but a fire had developed inside of me earlier in the day and it was burning a little too hot. I couldn't find my smooth, I kept pushing past it into a harried, angry stride that was uncharacteristic of me. I wasn't happy, I wasn't relieved, and I couldn't shake everything that was waiting for me at work. Furthermore, I was having trouble separating my personal rhythm from that of the percussive music bumping through my headphones. It was always just a beat or two faster than my stride, which I inadvertently adjusted to keep up.
Despite my mental unrest, I hit my halfway point just over 22 minutes. I'd blown 8-minute-miles out of the water, which was cool excepting the fact that I was beginning to feel drained, and I still had three miles to go.
One thing about running -- it teaches you to be tenacious. Your body screams at you, "GIVE UP, REST, AND GIVE ME A FREAKING BREAK, YOU PSYCHO!" And eventually, you hit a point where your brain yells back, "KEEP CRYING, NOOB! WE'RE GONNA KILL THIS AND YOU'LL THANK ME LATER!" It's a stretch to say that I killed it. I finished my 10k in 50 minutes, having taken a break after running the stairs up to the University Bridge to stretch and catch my breath. My brain and my legs argued for the entirety of those last three miles, and my legs could not make up their mind. They'd try to cramp and give up on me, and 10 minutes later, they'd be taking on a stride that the rest of me couldn't maintain. It was frustrating, and I found myself wondering what happened to my smooth. Yes, I finished, but where was my mental relief that normally comes with a run? Where was the happy, wonderful endorphin high? Where was my sense of accomplishment? I'd proven that I could run a quick 10k (compared to myself in previous years), but I still didn't achieve any validation or redemption.
A couple hours later, while I was still at work (pushing hour 10 that day), I came to a few conclusions:
1) I need to learn to let go of my aggravators, no matter what they are. I've said it before, and I'll repeat it here: my best runs are my happy runs. The ones where I get lost in the good memories and good music.
2) On the music note (pun intended), as much fun as it is to listen to hip-hop, I don't think it's the best choice for running. It's too aggressive, too angry, and too distracting. It keeps me from my smooth, my zone.
3) I need to make a more concerted effort to pace myself. It helps a lot when I run with other people because I can find that spot where my heart rate is up, but I can still maintain a good conversation.
4) Chocolate is better consumed after a run.
Yes, I've had a couple of frustrating runs, but it's not the end of the world. This happens, right? It's part of any relationship - you go through the good and the bad, and this is a time of growing pains. I'm learning to manage expectations, accept my weaknesses, and learn from my failures.
Onward.
I needed to redeem myself. I needed sweet validation, a reminder that I am, in fact, worthy of being called a runner.
When I've previously felt this way, I would set out on a long, long run, typically breaching double digits in mileage. I'd knock out these big distances that scared me a little bit, then finish happily with a sense of accomplishment and feeling like a total bad-ass. The great thing about longer runs, besides the sense of accomplishment and hours of internal dialogue and music-listening, is that I tend to pace myself much better. I keep the distance in mind and it's good motivation to avoid overexertion. How else would I survive 10 or 11 miles? So, I tend to get a little bit too excited when I do "shorter" distances. We runners forget that, to most people, 10 kilometers is a lot. But, to us, it eventually becomes a relief: "Oh, today's only a 6 miler? Sweet! I can knock this out in less than an hour!"
So, fueled by work stress, self-loathing, the need for redemption, and too much chocolate, I put a sign on my cubicle for anyone searching for me ("Kristen's patience checked out a while ago. She has gone running to find it, she'll be back by 5:30pm"), threw on my running shoes, some shorts, and a long-sleeve tech shirt, set my phone's Pandora station to Jay-Z Radio, and set off for a 10K around Lake Union. I chose to approach this run differently than Monday's, running clockwise instead of counterclockwise. One major benefit of this approach is that I avoid starting my run on an incline. Another is that I get a decline while crossing the University Bridge, which seems way too long the other way.
It was a nice night. I started my run around 4:45pm, just after the sun had set and there was still a hint of light in the sky. The Christmas light tree on top of the space needle was already lit, as were the lights on the Queen Anne radio tower (two of my favorite Seattle Christmas traditions), and the purply light from the sky reflected off of the unusually smooth water on Lake Union. It was peaceful and lovely, but a fire had developed inside of me earlier in the day and it was burning a little too hot. I couldn't find my smooth, I kept pushing past it into a harried, angry stride that was uncharacteristic of me. I wasn't happy, I wasn't relieved, and I couldn't shake everything that was waiting for me at work. Furthermore, I was having trouble separating my personal rhythm from that of the percussive music bumping through my headphones. It was always just a beat or two faster than my stride, which I inadvertently adjusted to keep up.
Despite my mental unrest, I hit my halfway point just over 22 minutes. I'd blown 8-minute-miles out of the water, which was cool excepting the fact that I was beginning to feel drained, and I still had three miles to go.
One thing about running -- it teaches you to be tenacious. Your body screams at you, "GIVE UP, REST, AND GIVE ME A FREAKING BREAK, YOU PSYCHO!" And eventually, you hit a point where your brain yells back, "KEEP CRYING, NOOB! WE'RE GONNA KILL THIS AND YOU'LL THANK ME LATER!" It's a stretch to say that I killed it. I finished my 10k in 50 minutes, having taken a break after running the stairs up to the University Bridge to stretch and catch my breath. My brain and my legs argued for the entirety of those last three miles, and my legs could not make up their mind. They'd try to cramp and give up on me, and 10 minutes later, they'd be taking on a stride that the rest of me couldn't maintain. It was frustrating, and I found myself wondering what happened to my smooth. Yes, I finished, but where was my mental relief that normally comes with a run? Where was the happy, wonderful endorphin high? Where was my sense of accomplishment? I'd proven that I could run a quick 10k (compared to myself in previous years), but I still didn't achieve any validation or redemption.
A couple hours later, while I was still at work (pushing hour 10 that day), I came to a few conclusions:
1) I need to learn to let go of my aggravators, no matter what they are. I've said it before, and I'll repeat it here: my best runs are my happy runs. The ones where I get lost in the good memories and good music.
2) On the music note (pun intended), as much fun as it is to listen to hip-hop, I don't think it's the best choice for running. It's too aggressive, too angry, and too distracting. It keeps me from my smooth, my zone.
3) I need to make a more concerted effort to pace myself. It helps a lot when I run with other people because I can find that spot where my heart rate is up, but I can still maintain a good conversation.
4) Chocolate is better consumed after a run.
Yes, I've had a couple of frustrating runs, but it's not the end of the world. This happens, right? It's part of any relationship - you go through the good and the bad, and this is a time of growing pains. I'm learning to manage expectations, accept my weaknesses, and learn from my failures.
Onward.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Excessive
My body puts up with a lot. I subject it to running (which, let's face it, is not a bad thing), ultimate, cycling every day, late hours, little sleep, poor nutrition, excessive coffee consumption, and even excessive celebration at times. It's generally a good sport. It still lets me do all of these things, despite the lack of rest and respect.
Today, it rebelled.
I suppose that background is warranted. I spent my weekend celebrating, as I am wont to do. I learned a pretty valuable lesson: Rain + cold + rubberized surface on the Burke-Gilman + tracks + Kristen = disaster. I hit the ground HARD.
I was most worried about my knees. They did not feel right at first, but it was late and I had no choice but to ride. How else would I get home? It felt fine on bicycle, but when I woke up the next day, walking felt strange, like there was some weakness every time I straightened my knee. But, they cooperated with my commute into work this morning (no falls!), and I decided that I needed to work off some of my weekend excess, and maybe test out my joints for any hidden complications.
So, there I was at work. I was stressed, and running on about 4 hours of sleep, a cup of yogurt, and about 4 mugs of drip coffee. Yep, I'm healthy. I was getting restless and annoyed with my job, so I decided to use my lunch break to take a jaunt around Lake Union. It was a great idea, in principle, anyway. Sometimes a good run will help me focus, get all the jitters out, and make me feel better in general. But, it was 44F, windy, a little bit rainy, and my legs were heavy. I mean, I hit a wall before I hit mile 3. It was that bad. Considering that I ran 10 miles without too much trouble a week ago, and that the days since have been littered with 3 and 4 mile runs, this should not have been a problem. I think the excesses of my life caught up with me: too many sleepless nights, too much partying, too much scrutiny over caloric count (rather than nutritional value of my food), too many accidents, too much stress. Lesson learned, body. You win this time. In the new year, I hope to scale some of this back a bit.
Sometimes, we just have off days, and I think this was one of mine. I wish that I had time to run tomorrow, just to get it out of my system, because it seems like we appreciate our good running days that much more after we disappoint ourselves. But, I do believe strongly in the value of rest days, and of a healthy balance between social life and running. Look out, Wednesday. I have my eyes on you.
Today, it rebelled.
I suppose that background is warranted. I spent my weekend celebrating, as I am wont to do. I learned a pretty valuable lesson: Rain + cold + rubberized surface on the Burke-Gilman + tracks + Kristen = disaster. I hit the ground HARD.
I was most worried about my knees. They did not feel right at first, but it was late and I had no choice but to ride. How else would I get home? It felt fine on bicycle, but when I woke up the next day, walking felt strange, like there was some weakness every time I straightened my knee. But, they cooperated with my commute into work this morning (no falls!), and I decided that I needed to work off some of my weekend excess, and maybe test out my joints for any hidden complications.
So, there I was at work. I was stressed, and running on about 4 hours of sleep, a cup of yogurt, and about 4 mugs of drip coffee. Yep, I'm healthy. I was getting restless and annoyed with my job, so I decided to use my lunch break to take a jaunt around Lake Union. It was a great idea, in principle, anyway. Sometimes a good run will help me focus, get all the jitters out, and make me feel better in general. But, it was 44F, windy, a little bit rainy, and my legs were heavy. I mean, I hit a wall before I hit mile 3. It was that bad. Considering that I ran 10 miles without too much trouble a week ago, and that the days since have been littered with 3 and 4 mile runs, this should not have been a problem. I think the excesses of my life caught up with me: too many sleepless nights, too much partying, too much scrutiny over caloric count (rather than nutritional value of my food), too many accidents, too much stress. Lesson learned, body. You win this time. In the new year, I hope to scale some of this back a bit.
Sometimes, we just have off days, and I think this was one of mine. I wish that I had time to run tomorrow, just to get it out of my system, because it seems like we appreciate our good running days that much more after we disappoint ourselves. But, I do believe strongly in the value of rest days, and of a healthy balance between social life and running. Look out, Wednesday. I have my eyes on you.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Rains, trains, and headwinds, oh my!
While I was training for the Seattle Half Marathon, I mapped out a lot of potential runs, typically starting at work due to my aversion to Greenwood (all hills, all the time). The route above emerged from those efforts, but due to a slight bit of intimidation, I never attempted it. It contains a big hill! It goes by water, which will usually mean winds! It's 10.3 miles!
...wait. I just ran 13.1 miles just over 3 weeks ago, and that run included a HUGE hill! Seriously, Kristen, what the heck are you so scared of?
So, in a characteristically unfruitful attempt to acquire a running buddy, I posted my route and my plans on facebook. As soon as it cleared and decorated my wall, a terrible, loud sound came from the atrium at work. The dull roar happened to be yet another deluge in Seattle's recent bout of apocalyptic weather. A friend made a comment about seeing Noah's ark in Lake Union and I considered the possibility of staying as dry as a bus ride home would allow. But really...if I allowed rain and wind and early sunsets (4:18pm today!) and scary weather and flood warnings to keep me from running, I'd suffer 3 or 4 months of depression every year. And it wasn't even that cold! Resolved, I threw on my favorite pair of holiday socks, the pair of Nike running shorts that are a size or two too big but still manage to be my favorite, and my awesome-tastic Seattle Half Marathon long-sleeve shirt, set my iPod to tacky pop music (my current guilty pleasure), and set out into the dark, stormy night.
...and apart from some pacing issues and a 10-minute stop to wait for a train to pass, it was a lovely run! Yes, it was rainy. I was fully soaked and a little bit cold when I poured my tired self through the doors of my workplace, where the surprised and amused security guard greeted me in awe of my gumption. Yes, it was dark, but truthfully, it's kind of fun running down Myrtle-Edwards trail with the Seattle skyline in sight, especially at Christmastime, when the top of the space needle is illuminated with twinkle lights. Yes, it was windy. Wow, was it windy by the water, and it did a number on my stamina -- I had some trouble finishing my last two miles, and I gave myself enough of a break to walk up Broad Street (for those of you who don't know, it's quite steep). But, I ran, I finished it, and I feel that much better about myself today because of it. Bring it on, Seattle. Try as you might, you won't scare me with flash floods, wind, darkness, or even snow.
That said, I cannot wait to try this run in the spring/summer on a clear day. It will afford me views of the Sound, the Olympic Mountains (so lovely!), Mount Rainier, and enough daylight to take it all in. The only really negative points were waiting forever to cross Nickerson, running up 14th on West QA hill to get to a traffic-ridden Dravus, and waiting TEN MINUTES for a stupid train to pass before crossing from the Olympic Sculpture Park to Broad Street. I'd give it an 8 of 10.
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