It's Tuesday ~ What do you want from me?

Remember when I was all rah rah Marathon 2009? Those were good times. I ran 1.2 miles yesterday and it felt great. It's a start. Neither good nor bad, but a start.

I'm trying to be contemplative. There's really nothing to be contemplative about at the moment. Good time for me start reviving this blog again, right?

Check back tomorrow. Something good is bound to come up.

Did someone say running?

It's a gorgeous day in my corner of the globe. I think that calls for a run. Did I say running was non-exisent? Was that me? Because that sure doesn't sound like something a runner would say. And I'm a runner. Watch out world. Kate's gonna run today.

Where Kate proves once again the vastness of her intellect

OK, so remember a few posts ago where I mentioned how stupid I am? The blisters from my brilliant Halloween costume kept me from running for an entire week. I've been hobbling around like....something that hobbles a lot, feeling stupider and stupider as this ridiculousness plays itself out. The blisters on my toes were so big that they encompassed my entire toe. And when I (being the genius we all know I am) popped them, a thick layer of skin rose all the way around my toe. So naturally, I pulled the skin off, leaving three of my toes exposing the second layer of skin and extremely sensitive to the slightest touch. Hence no running. Today has been the first day I've put the full weight of my body on them and haven't fallen back in pain so I'm going to try an eensy weensy tiny run tonight and see how it goes.

Zapped

Today was the first day of fall classes. I ride my bike from home to campus and the ride there ain't bad. It's pretty much all down hill and I'm bright eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to get my learn on. The ride is about 25:00 but I'm not sure how many miles that is. Some day when I remember to charge the Garmin, I'll measure it.

But the ride home sucks. I'm tired and my brain is overflowing with college type stuff. I'm hungry and want to call one of my friends and beg them to come pick me up so I don't have to hull my ass home uphill on the bike. Another 25:00 and I'm home but I've got the bike in 1st gear so I pedal really fast but don't go anywhere. I'm sure I look like a freak on the bike but I'm fine not knowing.

I wasn't going to run on account of all the biking and learning I did today but after I got home and ate dinner I got into a self-loathing what-the-hell-am-I-doing-trying-to-go-to-grad-school funk. Normally I would polish off a carton of cherry cordial ice cream but I'm on this new kick, right? All healthy and stuff.

So I went for a run. 2 miles and I was sucking wind the entire time but I tell you what, it felt pretty good. Mark it down. Another 2 miles for the record books. Yippee! C-bus Marathon 2009, here I come.

Good Times, Bad Times, You know I've had my share

I did some internet searching while I was hibernating in my bed since Thursday. I read somewhere that exercise can help lessen the withdrawal symptoms of Cymbalta because exercise increases your metabolism, thus, helping move the drugs out of your system faster. Like we needed another reason to prove how good exercise is for us.

So, I exercised for 2.5 hours today.

I've been trying to run, but the brain zaps, the migraines, the lack of motivation and (not to mention) the heat wave we're experiencing has made it almost impossible. Almost.

Yesterday I ran .46 miles before I had to stop and lay down in the grass. Right on a main street and everything. I am awesome. I laid in the grass with tears running in my ears. Eventually, I pulled myself up and crawled home, crying all the way.

Today, I ran TWO AND A HALF MILES and I feel like a new person. It wasn't pretty by any means and I was super slow but I did it. Then I came home and did free weights and yoga in my living room while listening to Led Zepplin on vinyl.

I think I may have turned a corner.

When Pigs Fly

I've been trying to gear myself up for The Pig but I've just felt soooooo lllllaaaazzzzzzzyyyyy this week. We've had gorgeous weather here all week and I've managed to run a whopping THREE miles since the half marathon. I have gone to yoga twice but that doesn't really help my mileage totals. Now does it?!?! My good friend S and I are planning a girls weekend in Cincinnati for the race away from her dude and my Boy Toy. However, I have a feeling most of our conversations will be about the boys in our lives.

If you need a laugh check out my race photos from Saturday. My BIB # is 788. They are HILARIOUS. I don't think I could look more pissed off in all of them if I tried. I need to practice smiling while I run. Clearly.

February is the cruelest month

I've been a bad blogger. It's been a week since my last post. My apologies. But in my defense I've been busy with the Boy Toy and I had a house guest over the weekend and a mental breakdown on Monday...so all that doesn't leave much time for blogging, let alone running. On Saturday morning I ran 9 miles on the TM at a 10:53 pace which was incredibly dull but the roads were waaaaay to icy to risk breaking my neck. I skipped an easy 4 miler on Monday on account of the mental breakdown (and, as an aside, if you should ever happen to break down sobbing in your boss's office at noon on a grey and depressing Monday morning in the middle of February and she asks "Do you have the flu?" just say yes already and take a few days off.)

Today I did 7 miles, again on the treadmill of doom. But this was a tempo run so I did a warm up mile then 5 miles at a 9:22 pace and a cool down mile. This was pretty good actually. Surprisingly. Seeing as how it was on the treadmill and how I just didn't want to do it and I want it to be Spring and what did I ever do to Ohio to piss it off and crap all over the place? Huh? Anybody else sick of winter?? I think I have cabin fever. Or the winter blues. Or SAD, which by the way, is just a really twisted acronym for the syndrome. I sort of want to strangle the clever genius that came up with that one. Jerks.

Clearly, I'm having a tough time getting my s*** together this week.

You've lost that lovin' feeling

I'm trying to fall in love with running all over again. Ever since I crossed the finish line of the marathon in October, my motivation has been in the toilet. For nearly 2 years, I poured all of my focus and energy into 26.2 measly miles without much thought as to what might come after.

I fear I've lost that spark.

Maybe it's just the winter blah's or I'm still feeling sluggish after my recent illness, but I don't feel as driven as I did a year ago. I don't obsess over the forecast or the course maps, I don't frequent online forums like I once did. Not every thought that goes through my brain is related to the marathon. I even let my Runner's World magazine subscription expire and didn't bother to renew it.

I guess what I'm getting at here it that I'm re-learning how to love this sport without the mystique of the marathon looming somewhere in the distance. I'm re-learning how to love going out for a run for the sake of going out for a run. I'm learning that not every race has to be (or can be) a PR. I'm learning that the marathon is not all there is to running and that running can be a big part of my life, but not all consuming.

So, I head out for an easy 4 in the snow because that's what I do. I'm a runner.

How a planned 13 mile run turned in to an actual 7

Gather 'round fellow runners. I want to tell you a story.

Our runner friend Kate has gone and got herself injured because she is a stupid silly girl. How did she do this? you may be wondering. Well...lets just say that she woke up Friday morning with a muscle pull in her lower back. Where it came from, no one knows but she apparently slept pretty rough that night. And lets just also say that instead of doing anything about it, she went out for her intended long run of 13 miles this morning as usual. And imagine, if you will, a runner who had not put much time and thought into preparing for this run, seeing as how it was "only" 13 miles she had to do that day.

Feeling over confident, she stayed up too late with friends the night before, drinking a few beers instead of water so the next morning instead of being properly hydrated and fueled, she was dehydrated with a tad of a hangover stomach. As she slogged through the suffocatingly humid miles, she closed her eyes in a self-pitying whine of frustration and in that blind moment, got tangled up in a tree branch and bit it. Hard.

As chance would have it, she caught herself with her pulled back muscle. She crawled on the grass in pain crying "why God?!" looking around for anyone who would sympathize. Alas, she was alone. She pulled herself up and hobbled the last 2 miles back to her car, bringing her to a measly 7 miles for the day instead of 13.

With her tail tucked between her legs, she sat in her ice bath and denied herself the little chocolate covered donut she had bought herself the day before as motivation for this run. Bagging a run is something our runner friend Kate had never done before and so felt she didn't deserve her reward. She also admitted to being humbled saying, "I will never go out for a run unprepared ever again!" and adding later that yes, the beers were a horribly stupid idea.

And that, my dear friends, is how a planned 13 mile run turned into an actual 7 miles covered. Chin up old girl. Tend to your back and next week will be better.

Dead legs

I know my legs were dead today because of the short little jog in the park I had on Saturday. I know this and yet for some reason I'm still beating myself up for a lousy 4 miles today. The weather was perfect, the trail was well shaded and far from distraction, I had a good solid day of rest yesterday and still...dead legs. This happened before, the week after I ran my first half marathon. It was my first ever time at that distance and it took about 20 days for me to feel fully recovered and "springy" in my step. I'm hoping recovery doesn't take quite that long this time but at least today I know what the cause is for a poor run. So often, I set out my front door without knowing what my run will bring. Will I go out too fast? Will I run out of steam? Will I fall apart mentally? So often these things happen and I never know the cause.

Today, I know.

Even though I may someday look back on 15 miles and scoff, 15 miles is still a pretty long freaking way to run.

Smokin'

Taking a break from standing nakkid in front of my open freezer to tell you guys....

....it's hot out there.

Be sure to hydrate!

Reason #679.1 why I don't have a boyfriend

I put vaseline on my eyebrows.