Tuesday, February 21, 2012
I'm baaaaaack...
In case you missed the facebook announcement, I'm back from a ridiculous few months and ready to train for something again. By this, I mean that I have signed up for the Seattle Rock 'N Roll Half Marathon! Let's consider it a celebration in honor of paying off the credit card debt that I carried around for 5 years (yes, 5. And I cannot even begin to explain how lovely it feels to be completely debt free!).
See you on the road!
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.
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?
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?
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Favorite Places
Confession time: I took TWO AND A HALF WEEKS off of running. After the San Diego Rock 'n' Roll half-marathon, I lost control over my schedule. Everything went crazy.
Some of you may already know this, but for those who are unfamiliar, my other hobby is bicycles. Last fall, my friend Monica and I revived an all-women's monthly bicycle ride called Menstrual Monday. To get our name out to the Seattle lady cyclist population, we put our brains together and hosted an all-girl alleycat bicycle race on the Saturday after San Diego. It took months of planning, writing to sponsors, securing venues, and organizing volunteers, but it was well worth it. 46 racers was enough to convince us that a competitive all-girl bicycle race was long overdue. Stops included a "soccer mom" stop at Meridian park, where the girls had to pound a glass of Franzia, then spin around in circles and kick a soccer ball; the "pretty princess" stop where the ladies were welcome to their pick of decorations for their bike; a secret prom photo stop at Madrona Park along Lake Washington; a "rocker girl" stop at the old OK Hotel, where fake tattoos were applied; and finally, my brainchild, the big wheel tricycle time trials down the bridge to nowhere. Riders had a blast and in all, I consider it a great success.
I've also traveled quite a bit: my boyfriend brought me along for a work trip to Anchorage, AK, a place I've never visited but loved. I also just returned from a 3-day weekend in Boston, where I saw a dear friend from Montana marry a good man. On top of travel, I've helped a friend clean her house to put up for sale as an anticipated addition to her family means that they'll have outgrown their first home, I've joined a Corporate League ultimate frisbee team, I've taken to step aerobics classes at 24hour fitness, shopped for and purchased a great outfit that I can wear to this summer's weddings, occasioned bike rides with my marauding band of drunken cyclists, accomplished wrap-up tasks for the alleycat race (thank you notes to sponsors, sponsor profiles for our blog, posting photos on facebook, etc.), worked at least 40 hours a week, and somewhere in there, managed 1 load of laundry and attempted to be a good, albeit absent girlfriend.
Excuses, excuses, right?
I guess I just needed a little break. I get easily burnt out on things, especially in light of difficult weather patterns in Seattle. I hate to admit it, but the lack of sun has finally taken its toll. I'm coming to terms with it again, now that we are breaching 70F days, but for a while, I was feeling pretty blue.
That said, I'm back on the wagon, beginning yesterday with a 5 mile run on my favorite running loop, except in the opposite direction that I normally run it. I have to admit, it felt terrible at first. My legs were sluggish (possibly after a night in heels that hike me up to 6'2"?), my breathing was weird, and I had no evidence that I could ever find a smooth in my life. My first three miles were only willpower, but the fact that I could muster enough to keep running was empowering. I suppose that I probably had to acquiesce to the fact that I'd let myself slip, but that it is okay. And maybe that self-forgiveness and acceptance kept me from getting to frustrated or upset to give up.
But then I turned a corner and hit my favorite running spot in the whole wide world: Seattle's lush, green Interlaken Park.
The trees had a cooling effect (the balmy 68F was a bit too much for my delicate Seattle constitution!), but I was fully engulfed by the beauty, and by happy running memories from training last fall. I LOVE this place, and I think that the sudden pangs of joy were physically manifested by a spring in my step and a boost in my pace. Running felt the way I remembered - it was joyful and it was an opportunity. I was able to think about how my attitude had changed last fall, when I returned to running after a year-long injury and some extra time off - running was a privilege, even a blessing. I was lucky to be so healthy that I could take on 5 miles!
This is what I have been missing for the last few months!
I didn't even look at my finishing time. I felt great about this run because it brought me back. Now I'm ready. I have a big, big milestone to prepare for: my first full marathon is less than 4 months away! I am scared, even a bit intimidated, but I am excited. I am itching to get on the road again, and it feels SO GOOD to approach a run without that feeling of obligation, or even dread.
Do any of you have favorite running places and similar reactions to them? Tell me about them!
Some of you may already know this, but for those who are unfamiliar, my other hobby is bicycles. Last fall, my friend Monica and I revived an all-women's monthly bicycle ride called Menstrual Monday. To get our name out to the Seattle lady cyclist population, we put our brains together and hosted an all-girl alleycat bicycle race on the Saturday after San Diego. It took months of planning, writing to sponsors, securing venues, and organizing volunteers, but it was well worth it. 46 racers was enough to convince us that a competitive all-girl bicycle race was long overdue. Stops included a "soccer mom" stop at Meridian park, where the girls had to pound a glass of Franzia, then spin around in circles and kick a soccer ball; the "pretty princess" stop where the ladies were welcome to their pick of decorations for their bike; a secret prom photo stop at Madrona Park along Lake Washington; a "rocker girl" stop at the old OK Hotel, where fake tattoos were applied; and finally, my brainchild, the big wheel tricycle time trials down the bridge to nowhere. Riders had a blast and in all, I consider it a great success.
I've also traveled quite a bit: my boyfriend brought me along for a work trip to Anchorage, AK, a place I've never visited but loved. I also just returned from a 3-day weekend in Boston, where I saw a dear friend from Montana marry a good man. On top of travel, I've helped a friend clean her house to put up for sale as an anticipated addition to her family means that they'll have outgrown their first home, I've joined a Corporate League ultimate frisbee team, I've taken to step aerobics classes at 24hour fitness, shopped for and purchased a great outfit that I can wear to this summer's weddings, occasioned bike rides with my marauding band of drunken cyclists, accomplished wrap-up tasks for the alleycat race (thank you notes to sponsors, sponsor profiles for our blog, posting photos on facebook, etc.), worked at least 40 hours a week, and somewhere in there, managed 1 load of laundry and attempted to be a good, albeit absent girlfriend.
Excuses, excuses, right?
I guess I just needed a little break. I get easily burnt out on things, especially in light of difficult weather patterns in Seattle. I hate to admit it, but the lack of sun has finally taken its toll. I'm coming to terms with it again, now that we are breaching 70F days, but for a while, I was feeling pretty blue.
That said, I'm back on the wagon, beginning yesterday with a 5 mile run on my favorite running loop, except in the opposite direction that I normally run it. I have to admit, it felt terrible at first. My legs were sluggish (possibly after a night in heels that hike me up to 6'2"?), my breathing was weird, and I had no evidence that I could ever find a smooth in my life. My first three miles were only willpower, but the fact that I could muster enough to keep running was empowering. I suppose that I probably had to acquiesce to the fact that I'd let myself slip, but that it is okay. And maybe that self-forgiveness and acceptance kept me from getting to frustrated or upset to give up.
But then I turned a corner and hit my favorite running spot in the whole wide world: Seattle's lush, green Interlaken Park.
The trees had a cooling effect (the balmy 68F was a bit too much for my delicate Seattle constitution!), but I was fully engulfed by the beauty, and by happy running memories from training last fall. I LOVE this place, and I think that the sudden pangs of joy were physically manifested by a spring in my step and a boost in my pace. Running felt the way I remembered - it was joyful and it was an opportunity. I was able to think about how my attitude had changed last fall, when I returned to running after a year-long injury and some extra time off - running was a privilege, even a blessing. I was lucky to be so healthy that I could take on 5 miles!
This is what I have been missing for the last few months!
I didn't even look at my finishing time. I felt great about this run because it brought me back. Now I'm ready. I have a big, big milestone to prepare for: my first full marathon is less than 4 months away! I am scared, even a bit intimidated, but I am excited. I am itching to get on the road again, and it feels SO GOOD to approach a run without that feeling of obligation, or even dread.
Do any of you have favorite running places and similar reactions to them? Tell me about them!
Saturday, June 25, 2011
BIg Day
Happy running thoughts going out to my running buddy, ultimate frisbee friend, software engineer genius, and good friend ShortSkirts on her first half-marathon. She's been training hard for the Seattle RnR half-marathon for months and months and is turning into my inspiration to lace up my shoes every day - she's truly a strong woman and a dedicated runner. Race started 6 minutes ago. Have fun, ShortSkirts! I'm cheering you on from Boston and I can't wait to hear about the race!
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Dreaming Big
I promise to you, my beloved readers, a recap of last weekend's San Diego Rock 'n' Roll Half Marathon. For now, it should suffice to say that it was ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL! If you ever, ever get a chance to run in San Diego, jump on it like I might jump on bacon. I'm that serious.
For now, I want to get this onto my blog so that I can track my training whenever I need to. For those of you who don't know, I decided that the *perfect* way to celebrate my 28th birthday would be to run and complete my first (and depending on how it turns out, possibly my only) full marathon. I signed up for the Portland Marathon, which takes place on October 9th this year, 3 days after my 28th birthday.
Since I tend to do well when I adhere to a running schedule, I asked a few of my marathoner friends what they have done to train in the past. My favorite of those recommended came from my friend Lafe, who completed the Seattle Marathon in less than 4 hours last fall. He suggested the Hal Higdon website, which has a lot of different schedules for people of different abilities. Since I'm coming right off of a half-marathon, it seemed okay, even reasonable to settle on Intermediate 2 schedule, which will allow me to do 2 20-mile runs before the race itself. It looks like it will challenge me, but not so much to scare or overwhelm me:
I'm surprisingly excited, which I think might be attributed to coming off of a sub-2-hour half marathon (yay!). Wish me luck, and come run with me sometime!
For now, I want to get this onto my blog so that I can track my training whenever I need to. For those of you who don't know, I decided that the *perfect* way to celebrate my 28th birthday would be to run and complete my first (and depending on how it turns out, possibly my only) full marathon. I signed up for the Portland Marathon, which takes place on October 9th this year, 3 days after my 28th birthday.
Since I tend to do well when I adhere to a running schedule, I asked a few of my marathoner friends what they have done to train in the past. My favorite of those recommended came from my friend Lafe, who completed the Seattle Marathon in less than 4 hours last fall. He suggested the Hal Higdon website, which has a lot of different schedules for people of different abilities. Since I'm coming right off of a half-marathon, it seemed okay, even reasonable to settle on Intermediate 2 schedule, which will allow me to do 2 20-mile runs before the race itself. It looks like it will challenge me, but not so much to scare or overwhelm me:
I'm surprisingly excited, which I think might be attributed to coming off of a sub-2-hour half marathon (yay!). Wish me luck, and come run with me sometime!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
For the love
For that first time my Dad brought me along on his two-mile loop around our neighborhood, I trade my jeans for my running shorts and my gam-tastic heels for my running shoes.
For every time that I've scored a point in ultimate frisbee because I could simply outlast the competition, I push myself through that first, hardest mile.
For every time my running buddy, Zach has convinced me that the weather's not that bad and that perhaps we really should do that five miles I planned,
For the small handful of Seattle's sunny days, and for all of those torrential downpours I've conquered, and for every time I've swallowed my absolute hatred for wind, and for every time I've allowed it to beat me down,
For every single last exhausting hill that this city throws at me,
For every time that I've looked in the mirror and felt like crying from disappointment at my reflection and for every time I've taken pride in my muscles,
For all the people who make me feel unwanted,
For all the songs I discovered during a long route without a playlist,
For every time I fell for a boy and every time my heart's been broken,
For the year I spent rehabilitating my back and the physical therapist who told me I'd probably never run again,
For everyone I love so much who will be waiting for me at the finish line,
For the pain and for the joy that comes with the freedom of moving my body, and for the love of this sport,
For me,
I run.
FOr a variety of reasons, between weather and wind and bad luck with colds and bacteria, this has been the most difficult training season of my life. I'm just a few short days away from the San Diego half-marathon. When I set out my training schedule, I was so set that I'd force a personal best out of myself because my parents, my sister and her boyfriend and my boyfriend will all be at the finish line. I wanted to give them my best. I effectively lost weeks 9 and 10 of my 12-week schedule to illness, and I know I will not have fully recovered. Though I completed a 12.5 mile run on Saturday, my confidence in my ability to push through the fatigue is fading and I am less convinced that I can fight that pathetic, sad voice in the back of my head that tells me to give up.
I need to change my approach for this race. I cannot run to beat myself this time - I need to run to enjoy it. Regardless of my time, my people will still cheer for me and they will still love me. I'll run for the love of it, because, really, isn't that what it's supposed to be about?
For every time that I've scored a point in ultimate frisbee because I could simply outlast the competition, I push myself through that first, hardest mile.
For every time my running buddy, Zach has convinced me that the weather's not that bad and that perhaps we really should do that five miles I planned,
For the small handful of Seattle's sunny days, and for all of those torrential downpours I've conquered, and for every time I've swallowed my absolute hatred for wind, and for every time I've allowed it to beat me down,
For every single last exhausting hill that this city throws at me,
For every time that I've looked in the mirror and felt like crying from disappointment at my reflection and for every time I've taken pride in my muscles,
For all the people who make me feel unwanted,
For all the songs I discovered during a long route without a playlist,
For every time I fell for a boy and every time my heart's been broken,
For the year I spent rehabilitating my back and the physical therapist who told me I'd probably never run again,
For everyone I love so much who will be waiting for me at the finish line,
For the pain and for the joy that comes with the freedom of moving my body, and for the love of this sport,
For me,
I run.
FOr a variety of reasons, between weather and wind and bad luck with colds and bacteria, this has been the most difficult training season of my life. I'm just a few short days away from the San Diego half-marathon. When I set out my training schedule, I was so set that I'd force a personal best out of myself because my parents, my sister and her boyfriend and my boyfriend will all be at the finish line. I wanted to give them my best. I effectively lost weeks 9 and 10 of my 12-week schedule to illness, and I know I will not have fully recovered. Though I completed a 12.5 mile run on Saturday, my confidence in my ability to push through the fatigue is fading and I am less convinced that I can fight that pathetic, sad voice in the back of my head that tells me to give up.
I need to change my approach for this race. I cannot run to beat myself this time - I need to run to enjoy it. Regardless of my time, my people will still cheer for me and they will still love me. I'll run for the love of it, because, really, isn't that what it's supposed to be about?
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