16 Miles in Boston

I love you Boston - you are so nice and flat! Running 16 miles along the Charles River almost felt like cheating, except that it was raining on me the entire time and it was still 16 whole miles, which was a personal best for me and a scary long way in general. I wore my trusty Mizuno running pants - my first "real" pair of running pants that my mom sent me in the mail way back in the beginning of training. I love them.

I was dreading this run, considering how disastrous my earlier attempt at 15 miles was (much limping involved). But many weeks of training had passed since then, and also it helped that I didn't forget my Gu (i.e. legs did not totally run out of glycogen and crap out around mile 13).

There were a lot of other crazy runners out in the rain early on Saturday morning, clearly training for distance with their little fuel belts on. Our friends Danny and Sarah took us to a great sandwich place, Darwin's, after I got done with my ice bath and hot shower, and I rewarded myself with a spinach, egg, cheese, and bacon sandwich on multigrain bread. Hey - I need the salt!

Tub Full of Ice

So, one nasty side effect of my Saturday morning long runs has been that the rest of the weekend I hobble around with a lot of muscle soreness - stairs are especially painful. I'd been told that taking a post-run ice bath kills all of that. Sounded like fun!

So after this past Saturday's 13.5 mile run, I decided to test the theory, filling up our tub with two large bags of ice and cold water. OUCH! Getting in was painful - the scene was pretty pathetic, me yelling "no like no like no like no like!" over and over again while Dimitri sat on the bathroom floor and held my hand. But after 3 minutes or so of intense discomfort, I numbed out and finished out the 15 minute soak with no problem.

The rest of the weekend was amazingly pain free and I am a total ice bath convert now! Saturday's run was extra fun - since NYC shut down Park Avenue completely so that bikers and runners could use it from 7am to 1pm. We ran from 72nd street to downtown, across the Brooklyn Bridge, and back. Marathon trainees were out in droves, it was a great community feeling.

Here a link to a song I was singing in my head while running, courtesy of Indiecent Music!
Duck Sauce - Anyway

Breaking Me Down

Sometimes I look at a hill, or a steep set of stairs in Central Park, pondering the dozens of times I will have to run up and down them in varying combinations, and it feels like the incline is slapping me in the face. Breaking me down bit by bit, as each ascent gets harder and harder, my stomach cramps, my breathing labors, my legs replace muscle with lead. Our coach is watching, which makes my labored breathing sound even louder, my steps seem even slower. I spend the whole workout feeling tired, pathetic.

Then I get home, take a shower, and make a protein shake. My muscles are sore, my mind reviews the work I've just done and I make peace with the fact that it isn't supposed to be easy. I might not feel good, or strong, but I finished. I finished and I can be at peace with what I've done that day, knowing that by the time the marathon rolls around, I'll be ready. It won't be easy either, but I'll be ready.

And Then They Made Me Throw My Conch Shell Away!

Hello everyone, we are back from Belize! Apparently a conch shell is considered a weapon on a plane, and I now hate the TSA. They did let the booze go through though, so priorities...

We had a great time - I am tan and Dimitri is a certified scuba diver! I also finally got to see sea turtles and a manatee.

Today is my first day of training back with my team - I think we are doing hills. I really HOPE we are doing hills because Coach Jeff, who runs hill workouts, is much nicer than Coach Ann, who runs speed workouts (sorry lady, don't act shocked). Anyway, I hope my running muscles haven't totally disintegrated during my 10 day break from running (jogging while on vacation didn't quite pan out for me). But hey - hiking Mayan ruins and swimming in the ocean counts as cross training, right? Even if it all ends in a pitcher of rum punch? Perhaps not! Back to the grind!!