Week 14 of 18: Things I saw on my 18k run

I'll be honest: a week ago I just about gave up on training for the Valley Harvest Half Marathon. But after chatting with friends and fellow runners, after a pretty respectable tempo 5k and steady 6k, I thought I'd give it another shot. Which led me to dream up a future blog post that I'll publish shortly, tentatively called "Why blabbing on and on about running is important." More to come on that one.

To be honest, my husband probably would have told you he didn't think I'd follow through with it last night. I arrived at his work tired and grumpy after a busy day, and finding every excuse not to run - my t-shirt would be too hot, I didn't have my water belt or a pouch to hold my gels in...But he told me I shouldn't back out of it. So we agreed that we'd drive home, I'd go right upstairs and change out of my t-shirt and into a sleevless tank, grab my water bottle and drive back downtown again.

"You're doing this," he said. "You're going to go straight back out."

So I did.

Here is what I saw on my 18k (yes, 18 - I did it) run last night:

a white cat with a black patch leaving a church
a girl with a flute case
a runner (lots of runners)
a student (lots of students)
a dog walking its owner
a beautiful orange fuzzy cat sitting on a fence
an old friend with a new friend
a thug Kermit the frog in blue jeans on a t-shirt
a man shaking a Tim Hortons cup and asking for change outside the NSLC
a family out for a walk
a man pushing a shopping cart in the North End alleyways, looking for recyclables
a torn up sidewalk
a patched up sidewalk
a man checking the time an open grocery store would be open
a teeny dog getting tangled in a leash
a tortoiseshell cat cleaning itself on a driveway in the dark
a man watching tv next to his wife while playing the guitar
a big man on a small phone
a zig-zagging walker who couldn't decide what side of the pavement to be on
a sign on Quinpool Road that read "Everyone you meet deserves to be greeted with a smile"
a young woman holding up a sign outside the Superstore, asking for help in the growing gloom
a baseball game under bright lights
an older man running for a tennis ball on a busy tennis court
a drive home - my car, and the finish of this run

~ HRG

Week 12 of 18: mini vacay with hubby, tough 6k & 16k LSD...and waffles!

I'll get right down to it: I'm waffling about whether to sign up for the Valley Harvest half. Last week was...tough. Apart from the fact that a minor wrench was thrown into my training when hubby and I went away for a mini vacay (which was lovely), my legs felt tired, and I just felt burnt out overall.

Add to that the fact that I started going over my training times from my last half marathon, and realizing that I was running on average 30 seconds to a minute slower per kilometre now than I was a year ago, and you could say last week was a challenge -- mentally, and physically.

I know, it's only been just over two months since my surgery, and I haven't been training or eating like I used to (even though I have been watching what I eat a little more and going to the gym more). But this phase of getting back into shape is just feeling like a long slow haul. And there's a little niggling doubt inside of me wondering whether jumping into half marathon training in week eight of an 18-week program, just six weeks after surgery, was entirely the right way to get back into it.

Then I realize just what a challenge it must be to get into shape if you've never been active before, and I've got to give mad props to all the people who decide to get active for the first time ever. Let's face it: being healthy and active takes time, and determination.

Last week's training kind of looked like this:

- Monday: 16k LSD...a toughie, but I did it!
- Tuesday: Zumba + abs, biceps & triceps
- Wednesday: Zumba + abs, legs & back
- Thursday: mini vacationing with hubby (walking on the beach, ping pong & swimming)
- Friday: mini vacationing with hubby
- Saturday: 6k steady run...also a toughie
- Sunday: 15.5k LSD...a little better than last time (this time, I remembered to bring my GU, Shot Bloks and water/Gatorade, which made a difference, though it was super humid and icky due to Hurricane Irene being on her way)

On Sunday, I stopped by the Running Room to pick up some gels, and Bruce was there. He asked me how I'd been doing, and whether I'd been taking it easy. I admitted that I'd been trying to get back into it slowly, but finding it tough.

Even though he was busy with other customers, I really appreciated how Bruce took the time to ask me how I was doing, then think and give me some honest advice.

I asked him what he thought about me jumping into the half marathon program almost halfway in, and he thought about it some more. His suggestion: maybe to only do a 10k race in the fall, then train for a winter or spring half, and a fall full.

"I'm no psychologist," he said, "But I know that if you're not feeling well about it mentally, you just won't feel well overall," he said. Basically, suggesting that the more I stressed out about these runs, the harder they would feel.

And he was right - Saturday's 6k steady run did feel like agony. I didn't want to do it, and I didn't believe I could do it. By km 4 or 5, I realized that my entire body was stressed and tense, which only made the experience more distressing.

After meeting Bruce, I had planned to meet a friend for a quick interview that I thought would only take 30 minutes, then head out for my 16k. But the interview ended up taking two hours. By the time I stepped outside onto Spring Garden Road, it was hot and sticky outside - Irene was on her way. I called Steve to tell him I was headed home and was going to skip the run.

"You know what you need to do," he said.

Goshdarnit does he ever know his reverse psychology, because no sooner did I hang up the phone than I felt guilty and thought "I'll show him."...and headed out for my 16k LSD.

I'll be honest - it wasn't easy. About 2k in, just after my first walk break, I actually unvelcroed my water belt, turned around, and started walking back to the gym. But then I thought, "You know what, let's just run 10 minutes, and then another 10 minutes, and see how far I get." At the worst, I knew I could call a taxi if I ended up exhausted, or if Irene decided to start blowing through.

In the end, I made it back to the gym, 15.5kms later. Once again, it wasn't easy, and my average pace was about 20-30 seconds slower than usual. But I did it, drawing on all of my previous marathon mental training, putting my head down, and trying to be in the minute. It's easy to get discouraged when you think about the entire distance that needs to be run. But if you just focus on putting one foot in front of the other, running till the end of the block, the end of the 10 minute interval, the next walk break, then you'll be amazed at how far you can get.

The run complete, I drove home, exhausted and sweaty. Steve was surprised that I'd completed the run. He admitted he hadn't thought think I was going to do it, because I sounded like I didn't want to. I admitted that I just felt so slow and sluggish lately, and he hugged me to him. "Who cares about your speed?" he said, pointing out that I was training almost manically before.

Maybe he had a point. Maybe the point here is just that I'm getting healthy again, and there's something to be said for balance. Who cares if I don't run the next half in sub two hours? In the end, it'll have been the journey that matters, and the difference it makes on my overall health.

I'm still waffling over whether to sign up for the Valley Harvest half, but I still have five weeks to make up my mind. In the meantime, I'll keep building up my strength and my distances, gradually, and see where that takes me.

~ HRG

Training weeks 9-10 of Valley Harvest 1/2 Marathon: bring on the strength training, and a sweaty trip to the Point Pleasant Grocery store

Well I am definitely back into training mode now and on track for the Valley Harvest Half Marathon. I'm happy to say that this week and the last, I've done most of my training runs, wich included hills (5 last week, 6 this one -- and I upped the distance on hills too!) and a 14k LSD last Sunday (16 tomorrow).

The 14k LSD was not at all dreamy and mystical like its acronym might suggest. I struggled my way through most of it, a pained look on my face as I wound my way through Halifax's streets -- looking up at people as if to say, "please help me! Why on Earth am I doing this?" If I'd passed me on the street, I might have either chuckled, or commented, "now there goes one of those crazy runners, putting themselves through torture on a hot day."

It was decidedly hot that evening, even though I had waited until the sun started setting for it to cool down (I just haven't managed to wake up for those 8:30 a.m. Sunday runs at the Running Room yet). I'd neglected to stop by the Running Room to pick up some gels, and I hadn't eaten anything prior to setting out for the run. So my energy reserves, in addition to already feeling fried, were lagging.

At around km 5, I stopped by the little convenience store across from Point Pleasant Park - the one that proclaims having more than 40 ice cream flavours on the sandwich board outside its doors (that number fluctuates up and down all the time -- these are the little things you notice when you are on an hour and a half-long run and have too much time to think and wonder). I wanted to pick up some jelly beans or gummies to chew on throughout the run, given that I'd forgotten to bring anything else along.

As soon as I stepped in the door, I was hit by a wave of hot, muggy air. There was a lineup of people waiting to pay at the cash, and within seconds I started dripping sweat in the most unfeminine way possible, wishing myself to be invisible as people glanced at me. Ugh...

Finally, it was my turn to pay for the bag of gummy Jolly Ranchers I'd selected. But lo and behold, that store only accepts debit transactions for purchases of more than three dollars. By this time  I was a veritable waterfall and felt like I was literally melting into a puddle like the Wicked Witch of the West. No point trying to wipe the sweat away - it was as though someone had turned a faucet on inside of me.

I began to dash frantically around the store trying to find gum or something that would amount to $3. Being so hot and bothered, my brain wasn't working properly, which added to the frantic nature of my scurry. Once I found what I was looking for, I tried to pay, only to have the machine reject my transaction -- not once, but twice. At this point even the store owner, who is your typical chipper chatty lady, let out a huge sigh.

"How well are you training?" she asked me, in an effort to be kind to the sweating mess in front of her, I suppose. She'd leaned over and started rummaging in the Take-a-penny-leave-a-penny box to see if she could find cash for me to pay her that way, probably wondering why the heck a runner was acting so frantic about a pack of sugary sweets. Meanwhile, a German family had been waiting patiently by the cash this whole time, ice cream cones gently melting in the muggy heat.

"Ah, well," I shrugged in a mortified-sweaty-defeated kind of way, "I still have quite a ways to go."

The transaction went through on the third time.

Thanking the kind store lady, I turned around and out the door.

I've always thought that running is not a pretty sport, and that experience only confirmed it for me.

Back on the run, despite the gummies, which really didn't sit well in my stomach - there is a reason why the Running Room and other sports stores sell energy supplements rather than tell you to go to the corner store, I thought to myself as the gummies weighed down in an uncomfortable blob in my stomach - I struggled through the remaining kms of the run. I'd planned a loop, but by the end of it I still had another 2kms to go.

It would have been so easy to quit right there and try and make up those 2kms during the week. But I knew that starting out so late in the training cyle meant I had to complete this run and get the distance on my legs.
That was the long slow distance. I did it, but that one wasn't fun. Meanwhile, I've started incorporating strength training into my routine, to build my core and upper body strength - not only for the running, but also because my dad and I will be canoeing through Keji and the Shelburne River in the fall. And thirdly - I've been gradually increasing my workout routine so that I can work off the weight I put on during my recovery, so my clothes can fit the way the used to! It's amazing to me how quickly the pounds can slip back on but how slow they are to burn off.

Tomorrow's run is 16k LSD, then 16 the following week before we taper back to 12k. After having done two marathon training cycles back to back, I'm enjoying these more manageable distances. Then again, you've got to commend any person who decides to lead a more active and healthy lifestyle - no matter how far.

It's so nice to be active and healthy again! Endorphins are addictive - they make everything feel so much better!

Till next blog,

~HRG

Yoga glow, handstands and Natal Day 8k run!

This recovery has been one of learning about patience and believing -- believing that no matter how difficult things may seem, they will get better. It's also been one of taking lessons learned from different times and places, and applying them to this long learning process. It's been one of learning not only about my body, but about myself as an athlete and person.

And this week, I felt like I accomplished a few major milestones in my recovery. I finally feel able to put in place a tentative fall race goal. More on that race goal later.

Although last week my belly was a little sore and swollen after Zumba, I decided to head to the Park Lane Good Life to see if I could make it through the whole hour of yoga. I'd also been feeling tired the last few days, perhaps because I'd forgotten to take my iron pills. But I was tired of doing nothing so I decided to see what I could do.

Perhaps it was because Jason slowed things down since there were a few beginners in the class, or perhaps because I'm getting stronger, but nevertheless I felt like I had much more stamina and energy this week as we flowed through the poses.

Focusing on my breath, I was in the zone, flowing from one position to the next. By the end of the hour, I felt cleansed. As we said Namaste, I thanked myself that I'd taken this time to practise on that day. I headed out of there, my mat slung over my shoulder and a satisfied glow within.

After that success, I felt emboldened. Yesterday, after a great day hanging out with hubby on the Eastern Passage, I decided to head to Ashtanga Yoga Shala and try an hour-and-a-half-long Karma class. I figured if worst came to worse, I would hang out in child's pose for most of the class if it got too difficult.

Walking up the stairs to the Shala, I was more than a little nervous. Guylaine's Karma class is a tough one to keep up with, and she can be pretty ruthless. I was worried that she'd try to force me into poses I wasn't ready for and I wouldn't be able to keep up.

But then when I got into the studio, there was no trace of Guylaine. Instead, Seth was there. And anyone who's taken classes with Seth knows -- he's even more ruthless and focused than Guylaine. Just a few minutes with either of them is enough to turn me from a confident yogi into a self-doubting one...Which according to them is probably a healthy approach to yoga in any case.

So I unrolled my mat, took a seat and waited to see what Seth had in store for us. The studio was uncommonly empty for a Sunday, and I wondered if most of the class had headed east to Moncton for the U2 concert.

A few minutes later, Seth came in, turning on the lights and taking a seat on the stairs.

"So - do you want fast, or slow this week?" he asked. Most of the class was quiet, although there were a few inaudible mumbles from the far corner of the room.

I didn't say anything. Last week I'd warned Robert that I was still recovering from surgery and wanted to play things by ear, and he respected it (sometimes instructors feel compelled to push me into poses and I didn't want that to happen). But around Seth, I felt a little shy -- or perhaps intimidated. He's pretty intense. Again, I figured if need be, I'd take a breather and hang out in child's pose if things were too tough.

"No one? Ok well then we'll just do handstands all class. I'm not kidding," he said.

He wasn't kidding.

Bear in mind that I hadn't done a handstand in at least 10 years, even though I'd been a recreational competitive gymnast and coach for almost 10 years.

Bear in mind that I'd had pretty serious surgery about two months ago.

I was nervous. As I breathed in and out through my nose and settled into a few sun salutations, I wondered whether this had been a good idea. Maybe I should roll up my mat and walk out.

Then again...Who knows what I could do?

So I stayed.

Soon enough, we progressed from sun salutations to deep groin stretches, and then...

Handstands against the wall.

But I was determined not to be the one who walked out. Thank goodness for self-imposed peer pressure.

In the end, I ended up doing handstands against the wall for 5, 10, 15 breaths as Seth worked us through a series of poses meant to stretch our groins (how handstands were doing this, I wasn't sure, as I breathed into my shoulders, which were quaking with the effort. However, I tried to remain up as long as I could given that I was one of only a couple of girls hanging out in the full pose. Yes, I'm competitive).

It was a tough class. It was at times a painful class -= as classes with Seth tend to be. But I did it. Once again, I left with a tiny little glow of self-satisfaction. I felt like my recovery was looking up, although my shoulders would be sore in the morning.

Yet today, surprisingly, my shoulders weren't sore. I was encouraged.

Although today was Natal Day and Nova Scotians should be taking the day off to celebrate our province's origins, my poor hubby had to work. So after dropping him off at work, I decided to try and head out for another run, albeit a slow one.

It was hot, so I spent most of my run darting from one shaded area on the sidewalk to the next. Part of me was glad that I'd missed so much of the summer's hottest days. I typically tend to be a hot runner, so I don't perform well on warm days.

Anyways, I did it. I ran 8k today in 10:1s. My pace slowed considerably by the end of the run, but I didn't let it get me down.

Something Seth said in class yesterday while I was upside down in handstand resonated with me today as my Garmin ticked from 6.99 kms through to 7.00 as I crested the long gradual incline next to the Public Gardens:

"Your leg may not be as far down as the person beside you, but that's ok." I think that's what he said...something akin to "It's not a competition. It's just about you." (I was upside-down and focusing on not falling, so not all of what he said stayed with me, but the message did).

And unless you're an Olympic athlete, I realized that's just as true for running as it is for yoga.

So while I could have been disheartened that once again this run was slower and harder than I would have liked, and that friends I used to train with would have smoked me today, instead I focused on my own little accomplishments.

Today, 8k, next week - 10 or 12?

And this October, who knows -- maybe the Valley Half?

But for now, I'm content to take it one day at a time; one step at a time; one little success at a time.

~ HRG