Freaking

Alright. So I'm a little nervous. I'm a little edgy. I'm a little obsessed. I keep shouting "4 DAYS!" to my coworkers in the middle of conversations entirely not about running or the marathon or any sort of physical activity whatsoever. But that's normal, right?

I'm about to be disciplined at work because I check the weather forecast every 18 seconds on company time. I keep staring at the course map, imagining myself running through all of the mile markers.

Today during my 3 mile run, I "practiced" crossing the "finish line" at the end. I threw my arms up in the air and smiled, crying "I did it! I did it!" to the heavens and the high school cross country team that was blowing past me. I have to say, my finish line victory looked pretty impressive, but that was after only 3 miles. Don't know how impressive I'll look trying to do that after 26.2 miles.

Nightmares

The gun goes off and I'm running. The crowd surges around me and I start pumping my arms wildly at my sides. I lose my dad in the shuffle and I think I've already passed my family waiting on the sidelines. The confusion continues until the first waterstop at mile 5. I look down and realize I forgot to attach my timing chip to my shoe laces. Would I have time to go back to my house and get it? Should I keep running anyway and explain to the race director later? Surely they'll give me my medal anyway, right?

And later...

Sunday morning, October 21st. It's 9am and I'm sitting at my desk at work, cleaning up files, rearranging the stuff on my desk. My mom calls to ask where I am. They're at the starting line and can't see me. I tell her I decided to come in to work instead of running the marathon and I'll be down there around 4pm. It's chip timed. I'll be fine. By the time I actually get down to the starting line, every one is gone.

Aside from the wild dreams, I think I'm doing ok. I'm trying not to obsess about things out of my control (weather) and focus on things I can control (not going out too fast). I have pretty vivid dreams every night so I'm not surprised by these two I had this afternoon while snoozing on the couch. What does surprise me is how calm I am in my dreams. In the first one, I'm all, "Meh, I'll just keep running, it will be fine." And in the second, "Meh, I'll get there when I get there." I just hope I'll have the same calmness in my waking hours.

Who am I kidding? I'm going to be a nervous wreck.

Last long run with Dad

Sorry I've been away and been a bad blogger this week. Nothing newsworthy to print, I suppose. Just biding my time, resting up the ol' legs and obsessing about the weather. Not much I can do about the weather but I'm checking the forecast every 5 minutes anyway, as if knowing it's going to be 49F at the start versus 48F is going to make a lick of difference.

I finished my last long run this morning at 8.30 and now I'm puttering around the house looking for something to keep me occupied, yet restful the same time. I'll probably blow through the 5th Harry Potter book this afternoon and catch up on TV I haven't watched for weeks. Unfortunately, the major cleaning project I had in mind will have to wait. Bummer. No cleaning for me!

Dad and I did 8 miles this morning for our final long run and it felt great. Easy. Piece of cake. Walk in the park. All that good stuff. My BIL crapped out at the last minute but I really enjoyed running with my dad for the last time this season (hopefully he'll want to do it again!). We talked football, race day strategy, the most recent episode of The Office. I'm really grateful for the conversations we've had between the miles over the past 14 weeks or so. I scrounged up this picture from the Lifeline of Ohio 1/2 Marathon (aka, the 1/2 marathon where I crashed and burned at mile 6 and wanted to throw myself in front of a semi). Sorry for the ridiculous face I pulled here. I think my subconscious knew what was coming. But, nonetheless, here we are; me and my dad...

Heavy

I've been on sort of an emotional roller coaster the last few days. Could it be the lack of miles? Possibly, but I don't remember being this irritable the last time I *only* ran 30 miles a week. I'm finding I'm a bit lonely even though I'm sort of a loner by nature; I work a job where my contact with coworkers/customers is extremely limited, so limited, in fact that I can go an entire day with out my phone ringing once and without taking the headphones out of my ears. I'm not married and I live alone. My apartment is small and cramped so I don't invite people over often. I pick a sport that is highly individualized (or, as individualized as I make it) and poor all of my energy into it. But, for whatever reason, I'm yearning desperately for someone who gets it. And I don't necessarily mean running and I don't necessarily mean romantic...just a deep longing to be really known by someone tangible.

I don't know. I'm internalizing and wrestling around inside my own head a lot more than usual and I have the sinking feeling I'm about to enter into the midst of some change, even though I can't put my finger on exactly what that change will bring.

Heavy stuff for a Monday night, eh? Man, I wish I could go out for a run! I feel like a puppy that's been cooped up in the house for too long. Somebody take me around the block and tire out my brain! And my body!

Chicago

While I'm ecstatic that I did not run the Chicago Marathon today, I know a lot of runners out there did and each one of them has my sincere respect. Whether they crossed the finish line or not, in my book, they are all winners for even having the guts to try. I obviously wasn't there so I can't give an opinion as to what went wrong or why, however I felt the need to acknowledge the event and say how deeply saddened I am by the outcome of one runner as reported in this article. I hope this is the only one, even though it's one too many.

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My hat also goes off to the volunteers and the medical staff working diligently to provide aid to those in need.

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I'm sure more stories will arise over the next few days, providing fodder for non-runners who assume this happens at every marathon and that marathons are dangerous. I only hope that something like this doesn't happen again and that no more deaths are reported.

Twelve with Dad and My Bill

I had a pretty good run this morning with my dad and my future BIL. Dad did 11 and my BIL and I did 12 miles. The first 5 miles or so were pretty sluggish and I could tell dad was hurting. At 7am it was already 70F with high humidity so I knew it was going to be a struggle for him. One of these days we're both going to have a good run on the same day. Hopefully that day is October 21st!

The future BIL ran circles around us (and by the way, I now call him "My Bill" which I find HILARIOUS even if no one else seems to).. At one point he ran off to use the porta potty and took off like a shot. He later told me he ran an 18:00 5k in high school. And he's out there with us slow pokes now. I keep thinking he must be so bored but he keeps coming back!

At mile nine, My Bill and I left my dad (at his insistence) and tried to run the last 3 miles at MP (10:50). The first mile came in around 10:25 so I thought, ah hellena, I'll try and do the last two at the same pace. Somehow I managed it and finished strong. It felt hard and I know I couldn't hold that pace for 26.2 miles but I'm encouraged by the fact that I could run with that intensity after already running 9 miles in this kind of weather.

A few new weird twinges in my feet today that I attribute to the taper. I was able to run it out so I'm not worried. I feel strangely calm about it all today. Don't worry, I'm sure that will change tomorrow.

Update: I tried a bagel with spray butter this morning (for taste, there's absolutely nothing in that stuff) and Gatorade and it worked like gangbusters. Breakfast problem SOLVED!

Maddness

I'm not sure I would know I had a touch of taper madness if I didn't know it. Don't read that sentence again, your eyes might start bleeding. What I mean by that is that if I didn't know ALL the things I might possibly experience the next few weeks, I might have taken the symptoms in stride, barely registering on my radar. But since I know I might be feeling a little edgy, I feel edgy. Because I know I might be paranoid about little niggling aches and pains, I'm uber paranoid. Because I know I might fear gaining weight, I'm obsessing about what to put in my mouth. If I hadn't read that stupid article, I MIGHT BE FINE.

For example, earlier this week, I noticed my running log said my shoes had over 250 miles on them already. That would mean they'd have over 300 by M-Day. Should I get new shoes? Was it too late to break them in? I ended up rescheduling my day and driving to the Fleet Feet an hour from my house in rush hour traffic just to get a professional opinion. Luckily the store is filled with runners and the sweet girl understood my anxiety. No problem. Shoe problem solved.

On Tuesday I realized that I hadn't experimented enough with my pre-run morning meal. As I mentioned before, the PB&J sandwich I had been eating had a way of catching up with me about 5 miles into my long runs. I only have 2 long(ish) runs left to experiment. Should I go back to bagels? Should I try a banana? Oatmeal? Toast? Maybe I need to eat earlier than 3 hours ahead of time? Breakfast problem not solved.

Today's Issue is food. I'm eating way more than I'm burning off. I'm going to be a big fat lard standing on the starting line. I won't be able to fit in my sports bra. I won't be able to run as well because my legs won't be used to all the extra weight.

I know. Smack some sense in to me. Please!