A dark place

I wanted to share this brief commercial because I was so powerful and moving. I saw it for the first time last week and it literally brought tears to my eyes. Part of that was clearly the content matter of the commercial, but there was more to it than that.

I cried because I'm in a dark place.

There. I said it.

And seeing those words on the blank screen in front of me make me sad too. Because I've tried so long to keep my chin up and put on that happy face and pretend that everything is ok. When in reality, everything wasn't ok and I was finding comfort in denial.

I've been fighting this foot issue for so long that when the doctor said I had to be laid up from the time I finished the Space Coast Half Marathon to at least the middle of January, I wasn't overly surprised. I backed out of the Live Ultimate South Beach Half Marathon and the Palm Beaches Half Marathon and was horribly upset that I was going to take a DNS (Did not start) at both of these events. For me, I've always heard that DL (deadlast) >NDF (did not finish) >DNS, and for me, this was one of the worst things that I could have done.

I've since gotten past that and realized that a DNS isn't that big of a deal when not starting comes from an injury and a desire to get better so that I can participate in many races down the line, but at the time, it was rough going.

But then I had to back out of my first (and only) full marathon experience. I still went to the event and cheered my dear friends on, and laughed and cried. And it was still a good experience. But to a certain extent it was tempered by the fact that a couple of days later I would be returning to my foot specialist and (hopefully) be cleared to start running again.

And thankfully that happened. I was cleared to ease my way back into running. I was cleared to start (slowly) working toward getting ready for the Miami Half Marathon (which would be my first race back at it and probably my all time favorite race in my short running career), and given strict rules to follow to keep my foot in good shape.

But the night that I was cleared was the beginning of a cold snap, and with temps dipping to the 40s, I said I would start running the next day instead. One more day off wont hurt me.

And when I woke up the next day, I realized that I had finally succumbed to the horribly icky sickies that I had been having an ultimate fight championship with since Marathon Weekend.

I spent a ridiculous amount of time in bed and drank probably my own weight in orange juice and whiskey. I was popping pills like crazy to clear my sinuses, make my teeth stop feeling like I wanted to wrench them out with a crowbar, stop the vicegrip on my head, and to stop the chills and the shakes. And when I felt that I had finally gotten past it, I went to bed one night last week and thought tomorrow is the day, I am going to get out there and get a nice 5 mile run in.

Except I woke up in the middle of the night with a coughing fit that wouldn't subside. And I realized that my illness wasn't going away, it was just packing up and moving. Now instead of being in my head and sinuses, It was in my throat and upper respiratory tract. And for someone who has battled respiratory issues their whole life and who can get bronchitis and pneumonia at the drop of a hat, this can be a very scary realization.

I self treated for 2 days before finally forcing myself to go to urgent care due to a really bad coughing spell, and was given a round of antibiotics, codeine cough liquid, decongestants and asthma medications. And I finally started to feel better.

And for the past 3 days, I've gone to bed feeling great, saying tomorrow is the day, I am going to get out there and get a nice 5 mile run in.

And every night I have woken up feeling like death warmed over.

So now, It is January 27th, almost 2 months since I have run, And I still haven't been for a stroll around the block. When I started running, it was AWFUL. I couldn't really even go a tenth of a mile (hence the name of this blog) without feeling like my lungs were going to explode. I took a brief hiatus that year when we bought a house and moved, and at that point, I had to return to the Couch to 5K program to just go a tenth of a mile without losing my breath.

And now, here I am, in the same situation. I can only imaging how torturous it will be to get running again. The pain in my lungs and my chest, and my legs and back... Do I really want to go through that again? Is that something I really want to do?

Obviously the answer should be no. Because who in their right mind wants  to experience pain and shortness of breath and all the other awfulness that goes along with getting out there and hitting the pavement.



But I guess I am not really in my right mind. Afterall, when I'm not running, I'm kind of like the guy in the snickers commercial. I'm just not me. Something feels off. I feel irritable, and frustrated, and hurt, and upset, and overall I succumb to that dark place.

And I dislike that dark place far more than I dislike the thought of pain.

Mama Needs a New Pair of Shoes

Sometime around August, I began noticing a good deal of wear and tear on my 6 month old Nike Pegasus running shoes. They had about 120 miles on them, and were starting to give me serious blisters on the ball of my foot. 

My friends Shannon and David insisted that I go to the running store and get fitted for running shoes... but I dragged my feet.

It wasn't the idea of going to a store designed for running that scared me, per se, but rather the feelings of being judged. 

I was still significantly overweight. I was still doing a modified version of the couch to 5k program. I certainly didn't look like a runner, and by no means did I feel like a runner. 

I had horrific thoughts of walking to the store and telling someone that I was looking for running shoes, only to be guided into a more appropriate section consisting of old lady walking shoes, or worse... being laughed out of the store altogether. My fragile ego couldn't handle that.

Then again, my poor feet couldn't handle my old shoes much longer either.

So the day after labor day, I bit the bullet, dressed in my most slimming outfit, and headed to the running store with my old shoes in tow. I had contemplated wearing multiple layers of spanx, but after realizing that wearing such constricting clothing would make it difficult for me to sit or move without feeling like I was going to explode, I thought better of that plan.

After about 20 minutes of self-talk in the car, I made my way into the store. I found a young(ish) guy to help me out, and he clearly knew what he was talking about. I was shocked that he didn't laugh me out of the store, and didn't bat an eye when I told him that I was about to start training for my first half marathon. 

He fit me for new shoes, and quickly declared that I had been blistering in my old shoes because they were too small... like 1-1.5 sizes too small. He explained why I needed more room in the toe box, and I was in awe. He fit me into the Brooks Ghost 5 running shoes, and I excitedly took them home.

But transitioning into them was awful. The very next day, I laced them up for a 3 mile run, and it was horrible. I couldn't adjust to the roominess in the toe box. My feet felt like I was slipping the entire time, and I was not happy.

So on day 2, I returned to the store and learned a better technique for tying them, which easily solved the problem of slippage. Who knew that there were multiple ways to tie your shoes and that the way you tie them could make such a difference?

My next run went far better. But then, after barely logging 10 miles on my new shoes, I noticed some interesting wear in the ball of my foot on two of the treads. I kept running, being more cognizant of picking up my feet. After 38 miles, the wear and tear on the treads of my shoes was far more noticeable, and I questioned whether something was wrong with my stride, or even just with the shoes themselves. I had previously read somewhere that running shoes are supposed to last 300-400 miles (perhaps a little less for someone as signifciantly overweight as me), so I was concerned. 

I couldn't afford to burn through shoes this fast, and have to replace them every 100 miles or so.

So I marched myself back to the running store, new pair of Brooks and old pair of Nikes in tow. 

This time, although I was once again surprised to not be laughed out of the store, the owners daughter did  look at me funny, asking me who these shoes belonged to. 

I told her that they were mine, and explained that I had 38 miles on the blue pair, and 120 miles on the pink pair. I explained that while the wear wasn't as very bad (yet) on the blue pair, it seemed fairly significant for only 38 miles. I was also concerned that the majority of the wear was in just one or two treads on the ball of my foot.

The lady said that she hadnt seen shoes wear quite like this, particularly Brooks (their best seller). She took the shoes to the owner and he looked at them, and he returned to me with a smile on his face, asking if I was a new runner or if I had been training somewhere for an extended period of time.

I thought for sure this would be when he would laugh me out of his store, and I began to mentally prepare myself. 

He explained that my problem was not actually a problem at all. Then he conceded that he rarely sees shoe soles wear in this pattern (in new runners) because this is the sign of a perfect center strike. As he explained it (or maybe as I understand it), people pay loads of money to train themselves to run with this stride, and apparently I do it fairly naturally. We see wear right in the center of the treads because they are made of a softer (blown) rubber over top of (more sturdy) carbon rubber on the ball of the foot. He estimated about 40 miles on the shoes (which was a really good guestimate because they had 38 miles on them). He tested the soles, insteps, and side walls for breakdown and left me with a final verdict that they are in perfect condition. He said I should expect another 300-350 miles on these shoes, maybe even more as I lose weight.

So I run slower than molasses runs uphill in the winter time, and cant seem to break 15:45 per mile in a training run, but at least I am doing something right and have a decent stride. I'm not sure how I learned to run with a stride like this, but perhaps it is something I've been doing unconsciously (knowing it would help protect me from shin and achilles injuries).  

Now that I know there is nothing wrong with these shoes, I love them. I can't imagine going to a different shoe.

 

Expedition Everest - May 5, 2012

Immediately after my first successful 5K race, I was itching to run another one. When our friends Shannon, David, and Kevin mentioned an interest in Disney's Expedition Everest Challenge (an upcoming 5K/Scavenger hunt at Disney's Animal Kingdom), I begged Ray to go.

I trained from February 2012 until late April using the couch to 5k program... and though I couldn't seem to break 15:30 minutes per mile for a training run (and I know people who can walk faster than that!), I felt ready for this race. The timing of the race was awful though.

We had just closed on our first home purchase a week before, we had moved out of our old apartment and into the new house, we had to vacate the new house for 2 days to fumigate for termites, our new house was broken into during this time period, I had a head cold, I was finishing up assignments for the end of a semester at school. All of that combined with a fear of running in our new neighborhood at night had me not training during the week before Expedition Everest, but I still felt ready for this race.

The day of the race was hot and humid.... like in the 90s hot, and South Florida or Dallas-in-June humid. We met up with our friends Shannon, Carra and Scott at Epcot during the day, and perhaps we overdid it a bit. At 4pm, we met up for an early dinner at Rainforest Cafe at Animal Kingdom, then we headed back to the hotel to rest and get ready for the nighttime race.

2 hours before the race was supposed to start, we drove back to Animal Kingdom where we met up with the rest of the group, and I started to get really nervous. There were SO MANY people there, and the irrational part of me kept saying that I couldn't really do this, that I wasn't prepared, that I should just go find a cozy place to sit down and wait for everyone else to finish.

Trying to mellow out before the race.

Ray saw how stressed out I was, and we tried to relax, but being in the 5th wave meant an extended wait at the start, and a longer time for the self doubt to get to me. I turned the volume on my iPod as loud as it would go, and hoped to tune out the negative self-talk.

Finally, after what felt like forever, it was time for our wave to go. And just like that, we were off running. Ray, who normally runs a faster pace than I do, had agreed to run this race with me as part of a 2 person team. I rarely get to run with other people because I am slower than molasses flowing uphill in the winter, so having someone to run with was a nice change.

I had my timer set to run intervals of 3 minutes running/1 minute walking, but about 2 minutes into the running, my eyes caught sight of a girl about 10 yards ahead of me. She was probably about 150 lbs bigger than me, wearing a bright blue and green tie-dyed t-shirt, and chugging along. She was also running intervals.

I had caught up to her significantly in my first running interval, and she was walking by the time my interval ended, but just as my timer beeped, she took off like a bat out of hell and was suddenly 10-15 yards ahead of me again.

I told Ray that I wouldn't be taking a walk interval until I passed this girl in the tie-dye... And so I didn't. And we kept running. And she would sprint for about a minute like her life depended on it, then she would slow to a snails pace of walking, and we would almost pass her, and she would take off again. It drove me crazy that no matter what I did, I couldn't seem to get around her.

Don't get me wrong. I was happy to see this girl out there doing something to take control of her life and become more active. I was happy to see myself out there too. But here's the thing: I've never really considered myself a runner, and here was this woman who had about 150 lbs on me who was out there doing it ... and she was going to do it better than me?  I was having none of that. Have I mentioned my really bad competitive side yet?

I spent the first mile, which is around the outside perimeter of the Animal Kingdom parking lot, trying to pass the girl in the tie -dye. Immediately before mile marker 1, we had to jump over some bales of hay, then we ran up toward the front gate. Once inside the park, we ran up and around the big tree, through the park, out an employee entrance. I lost track of the girl in the tie-dye somewhere before mile marker 2, as we ran through a series of tires. I couldn't see the girl with the tie-dyed shirt, but I knew she was right on my heels so I kept running, through the back lot, out to the main parking lot, and just before the first split time at the 5k mark, through a sand crawl.

When we crossed the finish for the running portion, we were handed our first clue, and a marker and sent back into the park. Ray and I were fairly good at the clues, and the first one came easily to us. When we got to the second clue, I began to write the answer down and noticed a red viscous fluid dripping all over the clue cards.

Freaking out that I was having such a serious nosebleed, I frantically started wiping my face. I kept pulling my hands away to find nothing. 

And the fluid kept dripping, this time on the ground all around me. Holy crap! where was all this blood coming from??? I looked at Ray and he wasn't bleeding. That only left one explanation....

I was DYING. I was frantic, barking at Ray to check me for cuts. I was certainly going to die.

After a couple more seconds of panic, I realized that the far better explanation was that our red sharpie was leaking everywhere, and that I wasn't actually hemorrhaging. We had a good laugh, and after ensuring that nobody was in fact going to die, we continued to our next clue checkpoint. 

We had a little trouble with the final clue, but after figuring it out, we sprinted toward the finish line, finishing the event in a total of 1:18:10.

Splits:
5K: 46:35
Pace: 14:44/mile
Search Time: 21:46
Clock Time: 1:42:19
Chip Time: 1:18:46



Overall, I felt great after this experience. Not only did I finish the 5k portion of this race faster than I finished my first 5k, but I ran the entire thing. I felt great.

And when I saw the race photos online, I felt even better. Included in the race photos was a video of the finish-line and chute, and there (in the back left corner of the video) about 10 yards behind me, was the girl in the tie-dye shirt.  I was happy to have seen her finish, but even happier to see that I finished before her. For awhile there, I wasn't so sure I would.

That first 0.1 will getcha.

In a previous life, I worked in federal law enforcement, which meant that shortly after graduating college, I went to the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center for a 16 week basic training. In this training, we learned laws, we learned how to use firearms, we learned self defense, and of course... we ran. A lot.

When we first got there, we had a timed mile with a ridiculous time limit... I think we had to finish in 17 minutes, which meant, that I could (without any training) run the timed mile and within the time limit. At the end of the 16 week training period, we had another timed mile, which was supposed to show progress, or really just allow those who hadn't made it within the time limit the first time around to finish within the time limit the second time around.The timed mile at the beginning and end of my training were cake compared to the runs we were forced to go on 5 days a week.

For 2 hours every weekday, we would run cadences around the base. I was always at the back of the pack, unless they wanted to torture everyone and have me lead... which meant that not only did we run at a snails pace, but we were also screamed at repeatedly for being slovenly, for being so slow, and reminded that if we didn't pick up the pace and we were in the real world, the bad guy might kill our friends.

During that time, I hated life. I did what I had to do, but I hated everything about it. There were no run/walk intervals, no music, no real knowing how far you had gone. Just a bunch of screaming at us to pick up the pace, lots of blisters, and mountains of self loathing. It sucked.

Flash forward to January 2012 and I had just seen Ray finish his first Disney Half Marathon and I had set a (soft) goal of running my first half marathon the following year at Disney Marathon Weekend (2013). But I couldn't do it without getting off the couch, and now I was almost 60 lbs heavier than I had been during my FLETC basic training.

Thinking back to my time at FLETC, I knew that it worked to set a timer and force myself to go. So the Monday after we returned from Orlando, I set a timer for 2 hours (remember, I set unrealistic goals and make bad decisions), and put on some running shoes. I think I made it a tenth of a mile before I thought I was going to die.

I turned around, tail between my legs, kicked off my shoes, and said "Screw this, I'm never running again."

See? That 0.1 will getcha!

Ray gently reminded me that great things take great patience, and with his encouragement, I tried again the following day. And the following. And the following. And it didnt work. Sure, I managed to do 6 miles my second day out there, but once again, I hated life.

And I realized that I needed to stop being so stubborn and use the tools that were available to me. So we downloaded the NHS version of the Couch to 5K podcasts and after a weekend of rest, and some time to get my head back on straight, I started over. This time, following a plan that was designed to make you feel good about running.

At the end of C25K week 1, Ray came home from work and told me he was signing us up for my first 5k race. I barely had time to protest. It was only a couple of weeks away. I certainly wasn't ready. But I couldn't tell him that.

So on February 4, 2012 (during my 3rd week of the Couch 2 5K program), I ran the Walk/Run for Wishes 5K to benefit the Make a Wish Foundation. It was awful. I was still running really short intervals and huffing and puffing the entire time. I was NOT prepared for this race and every mile felt much longer than the miles I had measured in my neighborhood to train with at home. But... I WAS a rockstar! 

At least in my eyes, I was a rockstar. I finished in 49.02 with an average pace of 15:25 (the mileage was closer to 3.18 rather than 3.1 miles, but that is neither here nor there).

The point was, I did it. And I was left feeling really proud of myself. 

But I had another goal on the horizon... I wanted to get to the point where I could run an entire 5K without stopping to walk at all.

*sorry i don't have any photos to share with this post. normally I would, but I'm not sure we took any that day.

Where it all started...

I was a sickly child. So sick that I couldn't keep up with my peers. In grade-school PE classes they made us do the presidential fitness tests, and I can remember trying to do them in 2^nd or 3^rd grade but by the time I was in 4^th grade, I couldn't participate at all. I struggled with ongoing respiratory problems throughout my early childhood, but was only diagnosed with debilitating allergies and asthma when I was in 5^th grade. The damage to my self-esteem was already done. I wasn't the most overweight child, but as the asthma and allergies got worse, and the dosages of oral steroids got higher and higher, I gained weight. I remember running the mile in 2^nd or 3^rd grade and having other children make fun of me. I was walking along at the end, huffing and puffing, and because it was taking so long, they just stopped the timer and scored me as an incomplete. That was the final time I attempted to do the run. Every year thereafter, I was excused.

That was around the same time I started going to a special summer camp designed for children with asthma. At this camp, I learned to manage my asthma, learn my triggers, and enjoy outside activities. But I also learned that things would be different for me.

I'd never keep up with the other kids. And I'd certainly never run.

It isn't like that was just an assumption that I made as a child. This was something I was told. I would go play with the other children, I would attempt to run around on the soccer field, I would trigger an asthma attack, and I would be with the medical staff for the next 5 hours where the pulmonary doctor (yes, there was a pulmonary doctor on staff at my summer camp) would tell me that I shouldn't be running, and could forget about ever really doing it again.

So I did. (Well that's not really true. I ran briefly in 2004 when I was at the law enforcement academy. But it was an awful experience and I was happy when it was over. So lets just say I was told to forget about running, and I did)

In my teens and 20s, I made some mistakes. I did things I shouldn't have. Of all stupid things, I smoked as a teenager and into my late 20s, quitting for significant periods of time, only to start again when life got really stressful. I don't need any lectures about how asthmatics shouldn't smoke. I already know it was a dumb thing to do, but for a long time, I was on a path of self-destruction. But that is neither here nor there... just know that I smoked for a long time, and it was dumb.

And I put on a lot of weight. For a period of time I was relatively thin. Then I met my husband and got happy and gained weight. Then I lost my job and got miserable and gained weight. Then I went back to school for my masters degree and it was like being a freshman in college again and gaining the freshman 15, but worse. Then I got too busy, and after getting my black belt in karate, I had to take a leave from martial arts to focus on school, and (surprise surprise) I gained weight. A Lot. Like 60+ lbs.

So my husband and I started Weight Watchers. And just like the commercials about weight loss, I lost a little weight, he lost a lot. And he got really active. He started spending a lot of time with our friend Shannon who was also trying to lose some weight, and they started running together. They started Couch to 5k. They invited me to come with them, but if there weren't monsters chasing me, I couldn't see a point. I vehemently refused.

And then they set a date to run a half marathon together with our friends Kevin, David, and Steve. And once again, it was something I couldn't do. They were all planning to run the Disney World Half in 2012 and I was jealous that they were doing a trip to Disney without me, so I found a way to include myself in the trip. I would go, and volunteer at the packet pickup, then on race day for the half marathon, and the following day for the full marathon... they would run. I would be there to support them and see them cross the finish line... I'd get a trip to Disney, and I'd earn complementary park passes. It seemed like a win/win.

Except it wasn't.

It was a great experience watching them all finish their half marathon (my husband's first!), but it was bitter sweet. I was incredibly proud of my friends and I was excited that they met their goal. But I was devastated at the same time. This monster green jealous streak spread through me faster than I could say supercalafragalisticexpialadocious, and I wanted to scream ANYTHING YOU CAN DO I CAN DO BETTER!

Me  wearing 5 layers of clothes, greeting my husband Ray, and friends Steve and Shannon at the finish

And about 20 minutes later, I came up with this (not-so) brilliant plan to do better than my husband, and plan to run the Goofy Challenge the next year.*

A half marathon is 13.1 miles. A full marathon is 26.2 miles. The Goofy Challenge is the Disney Marathon weekend challenge that combines a 13.1 Mile race on day 1 with a 26.2 Mile race on day 2 for a total of 39.3 miles.

Ray and Me after he finished his first half marathon

39.3 miles for the girl who:

• was carrying 60+ extra lbs,
• who couldn't walk to her car through a parking lot without getting winded,
• who was told she would NEVER run.
• Who didn't actually want to run.

Who the heck was I kidding?

Nobody will ever accuse me of not dreaming big. Little did i know that the first 0.1 mile will getcha.

*when the weekend was over and Ray and I returned to our normal lives, I reassessed and decided that perhaps pulling off a Goofy Challenge in 365 days was a bit far fetched. But perhaps I could pull off a half marathon in that time period. But first, I would need to get my butt off the couch.