A1A Ft Lauderdale Half Marathon - Feb 16, 2014

Let me just say that there is no doubt that this race is BY FAR, my absolute favorite race, with the flattest fastest course that I have ever seen. I love this race. It was my 3rd race ever last year, the first race that I really felt my body working to PR at when I first started running half marathons, and a race that I really looked forward to this year... despite the ongoing health saga that I seem to have been dealing with the past few months.

I had finally kicked my illness that in retrospect may have actually been the flu, I was breathing great without having any residual coughing or wheezing. My body seemed to be recovered from the Miami half a couple of weeks prior (I was SORE SORE SORE for days after this half as it had been my first back after my awful foot injury), and I wasn't really experiencing any twinges of pain that may be residual from that injury either. I was stoked for this race.

And it didn't let me down.

The night before the race, I had a sleepover at my friend Seth's house, and we stayed up probably a little later than we should have laughing and talking about our races past and our upcoming plans for the future (another 5 in 5 days in April). We finally went to bed around 10pm, and I barely slept. Part of that was being somewhere other than my own house... the other part of that was probably just standard pre-race jitters. Because he lives about 2 miles from the start line, that meant that we got to sleep in a little the next day, but the wake-up call still came a little too early for my liking. We got ready, had a few wardrobe disasters, and headed to the start.

We met up with some friends before the start, and headed off to the start corral. One of the things that I really enjoy about this race is the soft starting corral system. This year, there was a huge group of charity runners from the Hebrew Academy for Special Children, and they all staged at the back of the corral.

While I love charity runners, and while HASC is great because they take kids and teens with disabilities to do something amazing at these events, it was quite difficult to share the course with them. First of all, they notably had WAY more energy than anyone should legally have at that hour. Second, when the race started, a number of these kids plowed their way through the waves of runners who were aiming to improve their times, and who had just as much right to the course as anyone. Again, I want to clarify that they were an amazing group to share the course with and they really inspired me to be the best I could possibly be... but in the end, they were just waves of teenagers who didn't really understand race ettiquette, who ran zigzagging patterns through clumps of runners (running me over in the process more than once), who stepped on the heels of runners (myself included again), and who walked 4-5 people abreast with the strollers and were not aware of runners trying to pass them.

And while I loved that they were so supportive to one another in their endeavors, after 10 miles of having one girl continually screaming and whooping in my left ear, I was ready to put her in her place. Thankfully, I didn't because I reminded myself that they were just as entitled to be excited about their first race as I was excited about mine... but that doesn't mean that I didn't *want* to say something.

And now, I'm sure that I sound like a grumpy old woman who begrudges the neighborhood kids who walk across her yard on the way home from school...  But I swear it wasnt like that. I think these kids just needed a little more training in ettiquette and what to expect during a half marathon and it would have made the experience more pleasant for everyone involved.

The course this year was the same as years past. It started next to the Museum and went down Las Olas, across the drawbridge (that thankfully didn't open!), and out to the beach for a spectacular sunrise.

From there, we traveled about a mile north then west for a quick 3 mile detour through John Hugh Birch State Park. I think the park portion of this race is absolutely my favorite part because the road is narrow, and there are overhanging trees and it is shady and peaceful. By the time I get there, the crowd has thinned out a bit and I am able to get into a good groove. It winds up being a very serene and peaceful time running. At that point, I was well aware that I was on track for a PR.

entry to the park

But the truth is (and I think I was trying to deny it), it wasn't really a PR that I was on track for... it was complete burnout. As a run/walk/runner, I do 60 seconds of running followed by 60 seconds of walking and repeat through the duration. Under normal circumstances, I will average about 15 min per mile for the first half of a race, and then get a bit of burnout at around mile 9 and struggle the rest of the way. I know I fall apart, but there doesn't seem to be much that I can do about that. Finishing up my first 10k, I was averaging 14:33 per mile, which I somewhat feared I couldn't maintain, and would lead to a massive breakdown around mile 9. But I couldn't seem to slow myself down to better pace myself.

I was feeling excellent. I was happy to be out there. I was happy feeling the ache and burn in my muscles. I was happy to be alive. I left the park, and ran past my own personal little cheering section (I have a friend who is a TNT coach and who is super supportive of me). He told me to slow down a little, but I was on fire. And it sounds funny saying that because my "on fire" pace is still comparatively so slow when you consider others... but whatever. Enough self-depreciating talk.

I headed back out to the beach and north until mile marker 8 where the turnaround was. And suddenly, the sun was REALLY hot. it had been chilly when the race started so I wore a jacket. I was overheating but the breeze off the ocean gave me a chill when I unzipped my jacket. I felt my face getting sunburned. Those last 4 miles were bound to catch up to me. I knew with every passing interval, I was about to hit my breaking point and have my never-fail break-down moment where I would fall apart.

But it never really came. Sure my time slowed down as I entered the last 2 mile home stretch. I wound up missing my PR by less than 2 minutes, but I never really broke my stride.

And apparently I didn't break my heel either because there was almost no pain in that pesky injury!

Before I knew it, I was entering the chute and collecting my medal. No PR for me, but I got something way better.

The knowledge that even after such a bad injury and months laid up, I'm back! And I'm just as strong.

Gun- 3:23:07
Net- 3:18:01
Pace- 15:07/mile
10K Split- 1:30:20
OA- 3204
GRP- 266/285

*strangely, about 20 minutes AFTER finishing this race, I once again developed a cough and severe wheezing indicating an asthma attack. I haven't had a legitimate attack in years. not sure why it happened after the race rather than during, but hope it gets gone quick, I've got a big weekend coming up!

Frustrations abound at the gym

I recently joined a Gym. LA Fitness to be exact.

Not necessarily to lose weight (although I should probably lose about 60 lbs), but that would just be a happy byproduct.

I joined to give myself more training possibilities for my running. Right now, the weather is hit or miss, but we are going into the rainy season in South Florida soon, and the temps will also be heating up. And in the past I have learned that as the days get longer, I have less opportunity to run. Because I am totally NOT a morning person, this meant a lot of training runs at night after dark, which cuts into my precious together time with husbeast.

So I joined a gym to have access to things like the dreadmill, and the elliptical, and possibly the stationary bike. I chose LA Fitness because it also has a sauna and a steam room, a pool and a Jacuzzi. All super welcome bonuses for me as we don't have any of that available now that we are homeowners.

But I was also very turned on by the idea that there would be fitness classes. Like spin, and Zumba, aerobics, Latin Heat class, and yoga.

All with one startup fee and a marginal monthly membership, I would have access to a lot of really great opportunities to lead a more active lifestyle.

And of course, they have the dreaded weight machines. While I don't begrudge anyone the use of machines, that just isn't what my goal is. My goal is to make having a more active lifestyle part of my day-to-day. My goal is to supplement my running. My goal is to enjoy exercising. And being on those machines screams BORING. Oh man, I would rather jab myself repeatedly with sharpened and rusty darning needles than spend time on those dang machines!

But of course the startup fees at the gym include a single session with the trainer, in the hopes that they can rope you into a contract for a quite pricy personal training plan... which would be geared toward spending most of my time on those dang weight machines and less time doing the things that I joined this gym specifically for.

I didn't want this intro session with the personal training, but I suppose I wasn't forceful enough to say no. While, professionally, I always counsel people to cut back on their conflict avoidance style, it is easier to coach someone into doing this than it is to follow my own guidance.

So this week, I had my intro training session, which I didn't really want in the first place. I saw down and we talked about goals and why I joined the gym. And I was candid and clear. The gym will be used to supplement my training and encourage cross training, particularly as I come out of this long drawn out foot injury. And he took my measurements, told me that I was a good 60 lbs overweight (which I am aware of because I am not blind and can see the numbers on the scale), and wanted to talk about diet.

And then he dropped his first insult. That I could never lose weight eating a bagel and banana in the morning because that's runners food, and runners food doesn't work.

And then he started talking about how I need to eat chicken and more protein, disregarding the fact that I clearly told him I am a vegetarian.

And then we got to the point of the actual training session which overall went fairly well, although he seemed to ignore the fact that I told him that one of the exercises was causing tremendous heel pain, and I was concerned about the possibility of injury because I have a race coming up this weekend.

To which his response was basically, If you have a goal to lose weight, you shouldn't be running anymore, particularly not running half and full marathons. They aren't healthy, and will cause you to get hurt and destroy your knees, hips, and ankles. Then there was the accusation that my foot injury was caused by running...

Pardon me for a second here as I flip to my big girl language, but NO ASSHOLE, my foot injury is not related to running. My injury happened because I am a KLUTZ and I fell in a freaking hole and tore a tendon and didn't know it, then got bad medical advice. Yes, running was part of the reason that it didn't heal as fast as it should have, but  that doesn't mean it came from running.


AND by the way, just because your charts say I am overweight by 60lbs and at a heightened risk for things like diabetes, high cholesterol and obesity related death...  my doctor has indicated (on multiple occasions) that I am in tip top physical health and that the only reason I should be working to lose the weight right now is for vanity.

But of course, I didn't say any of this, though I definitely wanted to as I envisioned punching him in his muscle bound EYEBALL.

And instead, when he tried to sell me the personal trainer for the affordable cost of $40 per week with a 12 month contract (and a one time initiation fee), I meekly told him that this was not going to be fiscally prudent based on our family budget, but maybe some other time down the line.

To which he told me that he'd still like to get me to sign an agreement with him (personally) to give up a year of running altogether to see how the weight falls off.


Next time, I will shank a bitch. And after he recovers from the initial shock, I'll just run away.

13.1 miles away.

Even at my molasses pace, I'd probably lose him after that first point one of a mile. Afterall, that point one will getcha.

 

Failing is an option, quitting is not

Erica at Wornout Soles recently wrote a post about 30 life lessons that she has learned in celebration of turning 30 this month. I found her blog through a group on facebook, and while all of her life lessons really seem to be really great lessons to have learned, I struggled over understanding and believing her lesson #15.

Failing is an option, quitting is not.

I am super competitive with myself. I am a loose-ends-tie-r-upper. When I give myself to something, I give 110%. When I take a class or an exam, I cannot stop working until I have given my very best. Everything has to be perfect in order for me to be proud of my accomplishments.

When I compare myself to others doing similar things (like writing a paper for example), a B is a fairly good grade and I would tell others that this is great, but deep inside me, I don't believe it for myself. I've come to realize the past couple of years, its not that I think that I am better than others, or that I need to be better than others, but rather, It is about my own feelings of self worth. I feel like I have to constantly prove to others (and myself) that I am worthy.

Failure is just not an option for me.

Because failing is a sign of weakness. And if I fail, I wont be worthy.

... Because somewhere along the lines, I have taught myself that to be worthy is to get straight As, to be worthy is to complete ridiculous running challenges, that to be worthy isn't just to study karate but to have a black belt, that to be worthy is to not just contribute money to a good cause but to take up the mantle for that cause. I spread myself too thin, because it isn't enough to work part time and work on a doctoral dissertation, but I have to be doing all this other stuff too, and constantly give my free time to helping others with anything and everything (I seem to be the go to person for a lot of people and always feel myself dropping everything that is me-centered to help others out). 

And all of that eventually leads to burnout.... and worse, feeling like a failure. Because, you know, its not enough to be doing one or two things, when I can instead be doing a LOT of other things.

Years ago, while in undergraduate, I was going through a rough spell. And I was with a dear friend and talking about something that was emotional and I excused myself to cry. I NEVER want to let anyone see me cry, because to me, it shows weakness. I'm a super emotional person anyway, but I don't want others to see tears. Anyway, after I was done crying in the bathroom, I came back out and my friend had a come-to talk with me. I don't remember anything of that conversation or the circumstances except this. After a brief pause where he asked if i was ok, he said to me:

Amy, why are you so afraid of crying in front of others? Crying is a natural expression, let yourself be human.

Those words have since stuck with me. And frequently when I have a run, or screw up something, I remind myself that it is ok to be human, and try to let go. And with that, I realize that Erica from Wornout Soles is right... failure is natural. All children who learn to walk fall down. And it hurts and they cry. But they don't quit, and eventually they are able to walk a few more steps without falling down. They learn through perseverance and dedication. Perseverance and a refusal to quit are behaviors that allow us to become better and stronger people. Those are the behaviors that strengthen our souls and decrease the odds of failing the next time.

All that being said, I finally made a leap and got myself a gym membership at LA Fitness. I haven't been to a gym in years, but in South Florida heat, it almost makes sense because running can be so brutal outside sometimes. Plus the Dr. wants me to work more x-training in. I wanted this particular gym because through membership, I would have access to all sorts of classes like spinning, Zumba, Latin heat, etc. I'm terrified of weight machines, but I thought these classes would be a great way to get out there and push my comfort zone. I've now taken 2 classes there, and have learned the following:

1) I am built like an out of shape linebacker.
2) This white girl ain't got no rhythm. 
3) it is entirely impossible to do a class without staring at the amazing asses on the other girls. 
4) I have the grace of Steve Urkel.
5) I look and feel like a fool

But all of those things combined, I am finding that I am really enjoying this new activity. I'm nervous and scared, and I think I just need to keep it in perspective.

I'm fairly sure that at some point, I'm gonna fail (just look at that list above), but I wont be quitting any time soon.

(And maybe this will be just the remedy for not having enough me time.)
 

Miami Half Marathon- Feb 2, 2014

I normally wait a couple of days after a race to do a race report but I wanted to write this post earlier in hopes that I don't forget some of the craziness that ensued. If you didn't know it, I absolutely love the Miami Half Marathon. Absolutely. Love. It. It was my second half marathon when I started this crazy running journey, but it was the half marathon that made me fall in love with the half distance. I also do some promo work for USRS and know that they are a really well run organization. I was so excited to be returning for another year!

They got a new sponsor this year, so it was no longer called the ING and instead was sponsored by people I'd never really heard of. But knowing that the company facilitating the race had such a great reputation, I still trusted them that they would put on a top notch showing. I was excited. Again, have I mentioned that this is my favorite half marathon ever?

We got there early and heard rumors later that parking had been a fiasco. We pulled into a private $10 lot about a block north of the starting line. We were a little later arriving than I had wanted, but stupidly, halfway through the drive from my house to downtown Miami, I realized that I had left Brina's bib on the table near my front door. So we had to take a half hour detour and head back to the city. I think that was why we jumped at the first available private lot, and in the end, it was probably what saved us from the congestion that kept others waiting to get into the municipal lots for close to an hour. How's that for a plot twist?

Anyway, we got there and hit the restrooms inside the American Airlines Arena, and waited for the other Half Fanatics for a group photo. Somehow, Brina and I lost Seth. We waited for him until the last minute before heading to the start corrals, but we didn't actually see him again until he passed us about half a mile into the course. Silly boy.

On the causeway

I should have known that there was something off during this race when they started the race 8 minutes late. That may not seem like a big deal, but in a city where you have to time races perfectly to finish them without expiring your permit to keep the drawbridges from going up, that is kind of a big deal. THEN, the corrals took much longer to clear than i thought. Brina and I didn't start until the gun time was already up in the 30 minute mark. The sun was already coming up and the course was already heating up. We paced awhile with a couple other half fanatics, and as we began the incline on the first bridge around 2/10 miles in, I rolled my bad ankle.

In talking with the podiatrist recently, we've determined that I have great bone structure in my feet but the high arches will make it far easier for me to roll my ankles now because I already have a good deal of weakness. Which is interesting because I rolled my ankle on NOTHING. and had the jersey barricades not been flanking the road, I surely would have face planted. A LOT of people reached out to me to help me steady myself and asked what happened and what I tripped on, and I felt like an idiot. I tripped over NOTHING.

But then I was really shaken up. I kept going, but was really worried. I had just rolled the ankle that left me laid up the last 2 months. I wasn't having heel pain, and there was no issue in the pocket that was bothering my in the ankle either, but I was really worried.

We kept at it. But my head was reminding me to take it easy and focus on finishing not on time. Over the bridge we went, and through the causeway. and then I started coughing. having been so sick recently, I never kicked that lingering cough. I couldn't seem to catch my breath, and Brina slowed down to check on me. She suggested inducing vomiting to help clear my throat, which took awhile but it did make me feel better.

My new road treasure

When I was done, she sidled back up to me and told me she had a piece of "road treasure" for me. We know she likes to collect pennies, so she picked this little trinket up for me on the road thinking it was a penny and thought I could use it. It sounds really dumb, but that meant the world to me.

It was getting really warm, and it was really humid, and there wasn't a water stop in sight. I think the first water stop was 3 miles in... which I think is a little more than slightly inappropriate.

And we kept at it. Over the second bridge and through the condo area heading to Ocean Blvd. And as I was doing my running intervals, I was acutely aware that there was some distance building between she and I. She wasn't going really fast, I was just really off my game. And I was still scared. I told her to go enjoy her race because it wouldn't be any fun for her to feel like I was lollygagging, and it certainly wouldn't be any fun for me to be dragging behind her at a snails pace cramping her style. It was hard to see her leave, but I had developed a new game plan.

I was going to walk as much as I needed to, and I wasn't going to beat myself up over time. I was going to finish, and I wasn't going to get hurt. and I was going to enjoy myself out there.

That's Adam in the purple off to the left of the shot

Somewhere along Ocean Blvd, I met up with Adam, a running friend who is a TNT coach who was pacing someone who was going about my speed. I know Adam from the bridge repeats group that I was active in before this foot issue got really bad and I was banned from running on concrete, and it was nice to catch up with him. We stuck together until mile 8 when I had to stop and stretch my back out and then couldn't catch back up.

The water stops weren't frequent enough, and I really took issue with the fact that they seem to just give volunteer opportunities to any high school student with community service hours. By the time I was around mile 8, they were joking around, having water fights (WITH MY WATER) and blocking the entire right of way for runners. At one point, there were so many kids in the path that I had to ask them to move out of my way, at which point, a kid thought I said "Give me gatorade" (because that sounds just like "get out of the right of way") and I crashed into him, got gatorade all down my front and sent him to the ground. Sorry kid, if it was my fault and I hadn't just done 8 miles and you had been smart enough to understand etiquette, I might have helped you up, instead he got an over the shoulder "so sorry" as I trekked along.

And then I met up with Farah, an amazing woman I have paced with at races when she was having a bad go of it. It was funny, I heard her calling out to me from behind and she gave me some cheesy line about how great I was doing and how much that SHE was inspired BY ME. It really was awesome. She knew I was struggling. So she paced me to the end. And from the point I met her around mile 8, to the end, I needed all the help I could get.

First It got really muggy, then the roads started to get really slick from the humidity. Then it got really dark... and we all know what comes next. TORRENTIAL downpours. It cooled me off and felt amazing for about the first 10 minutes, but it lasted probably 2 miles. and it made the ground like a skating rink (this is normal in South Florida), and the cups and water station waste turned into a combination of slick goo and squishy muck. We got waterlogged and we slowed down even more because I was worried about messing up my foot again.

And just like that, the rain was over and we were about to hit the drawbridge signalling that we were at mile 11. I was stoked. We started up the ramp, and wouldn't you know it...

THE DRAWBRIDGE WENT UP.

And it COST ME 7 minutes of valuable time.

By the time it came down,  I was ready to jog in the last 2 miles... but standing around zapped my energy. Totally NOT cool.

But we joked that we would get the same really awesome medal as everyone else when we crossed the finish line and we were excited about the medal this year. Before we knew it, we rounded the final corner and heard the crowds roaring for us all as we crossed the finish line, and we had done it.

But we got to the end of the chute to find out that they RAN OUT of medals. I tried to pass it off like this has been known to happen sometimes at bigger races, and that it wasn't a big deal...

But it hurt, and standing around at the finish like and seeing everyone walking around in their medals just made it hurt all the more. I didn't even get a post race drink, we borrowed someone's medal for a quick photo op as we left the post race area, but I just wanted to get out of there. I was so sad I wanted to cry.

It shouldn't be a big deal, but to me it was. Logically I recognize this as a first world problem, but that didn't make it any less sad.

So after towel drying off at the car and changing my shirt, I walked to a gas station and got a beer and drank it in the parking lot out of a paper bag. cause nothing says despair like drinking a beer out of a paperbag in the middle of the day in a parking lot.

Totally a not flattering picture, but without a pic, it didn't happen.

Clearly not my best time, but also not my worst. I feel like I've been hit by a truck, but I finished my first race back since early December. I hear a lot of people didn't finish this race.

Gun 4:29:07
Chip: 3:51:34
Pace 17:41
Division 1276/1292
Gender 7669
Overall 15189


Time to start training again.

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.

The Marathon that didn't happen

If we are being honest here, something that I really try to do in my blog, I have to admit that while I was devastated to have missed the full marathon at Disney this past weekend, I was also somewhat relieved to be spectating instead of participating.

I talked a good game, and talked myself into thinking that I wanted to run a marathon when a few friends were kicking around the idea last spring. I think at the time, I only signed us up as a challenge to myself... almost like if they can do it, I can surely do it.

And having done some serious running this year there was no doubt in my mind that I probably could have finished my training for the marathon and completed it, even if it meant crawling across the finish-line.

But we had a falling out with those friends. And because I still hadn't been entirely sold on the idea that I actually wanted to run this race, I convinced some other friends to sign up and run it with me. But October rolled around, and as much as I wanted to convince myself that I actually wanted to do the race, I was still teetering on having full out dread and panic.

Of course I was going to do it... but I realized that I didn't really want to. The only reason that I kept training and kept pushing myself was because I thought if I worked hard enough at it, I would convince myself that I really wanted to do this and it would make me happy.

But seriously... 26.2 miles is a long way to travel on foot. Sometimes I struggle to get into the zone for a 5 mile run... I know what 16 miles can feel like. And through all that positive self-talk, I still wasn't convinced. But I made commitments to other people, and commitments to myself... and I would move forward and finish what I started.

But then my injury got worse, and I was put into a bigger boot, and I had some shots, and even standing on my foot was completely verboten for 3 weeks in there... Logically speaking, I knew the Dr. would tell me that the marathon was out. But hearing confirm what I already knew made my have a near breakdown in the exam room.

And I was crying over not being able to do a race that I not only didn't want to do, but that I never really wanted to do in the first place. And I was so confused. So. Damn. Confused.

But then, because we had made a commitment to split hotel costs with our friends who were also running the race, we went to spectate the event instead. I knew it was going to be emotional. And I posted facebook about my sadness at not actually being able to participate, and I got similar responses.

There will be other Marathons.

You can always do it next year.

And while, yes, these people are right... I never really wanted to do the race in the first place. And so as I was watching many of my friends from near and far pass by us while we were spectating... and in between my own self-indulgent fits of turning away to sob uncontrollably... I realized that these marathoners are amazing athletes, who I admire and respect, but who I will probably never join the ranks of.

Not because I can't. But because I don't really want to.

Which brings me to my final moment of complete cognitive dissonance... Not 10 minutes after realizing all of these things about myself we met up with our friends who had just finished and saw how incredibly exhausted they were and congratulated them on their respective (and respectable) finished... and I thought to myself...

Hey Amy, there's always next year

... if you want to.

Tap-n-Run 4K - December 7, 2013

I had hoped to have written this entry before New Years so that at the start of 2014, I would have all the race reports from 2013 races completed and I could start the New Year off with a bang. Unfortunately, I couldn't seem to get out of my way. I've been wicked depressed since starting to see the new doctor, and while he has cleared me to no longer wear the boot for every day activities, it has just been a rough month for me. I'm still out of commission on the running, but I began today with a much needed bike ride. Not quite as long as I would have liked for it to have been to get my cardio back up to speed, but it's a start after being completely so limited since the first week of December.

Which brings me to the report of my final event of the 2013 year, a 4K "beer run" in Ft. Lauderdale on December 7, 2013... just 6 days after space coast, and 4 days after being put into a much more limiting walking boot. I know many people will read this and groan that I wasn't following Dr.'s orders or that I wasn't truly taking a break, but this was actually BEFORE he told me to completely rest the foot. He even said that I could do it as long as I walked the whole thing, at a leisurely pace and didn't add any extra distance to the race itself. 4K is less than 3 miles. And 5 miles is the 10,000 daily steps that Dr.'s recommend for maintaining a healthy lifestyle. So I made the choice to participate. Maybe not the best of choices in retrospect, but I'm not upset that I did it... and I didn't actually cause any extra pain or damage to my foot... so all was good.

Tap-n-run is a 4K race that is being put on throughout the country. What makes this race different than most other shorter distance fun runs is that at every kilometer, participants stop to drink 6oz of beer. I am not a huge beer fan, but husbeast and I thought it would be a lot of fun. He chose to run it, while I chose to take it nice and easy with my friend Allison from Karma Athletes. She didn't want to drink much, so at the start line I chugged the beers for me and gave the other to our Karma president, Danny. And we set out.

Of course I was in my boot, but once I got my momentum going, I was actually going at a nice clip. It was really warm out, and I was exerting myself dragging along that bum leg, so I quickly worked up a sweat. At the first kilometer, I drank both beers for Allison and myself. We were having a good conversation throughout, and the time flew by. It also was really cool that we would overhear people talking about that "beast with a boot" as we were passing them on the course. Although I had been feeling like a failure for letting my foot get so bad and having to go for a followup and all the crap I was going with, it really felt good to hear others taking encouragement from seeing me out there and commenting on my determination.

If there is one thing I hope to leave as a legacy when I am gone, I hope that it is my determination and the fact that I have been able to inspire others to create change in some way. And the motivation, along with the playful banter with Allison really kept me doing

At the 2K mark, I again drank both beers, and I was starting to feel really full. And maybe a little buzzed. At 3K Allison drank hers leaving me with only one beer to drink, thank heavens! I didn't think I could drink any more beer without throwing up. the pressure in my stomach was unreal. And soon we were coming into the chute for the finish line. Ray was there waiting at the finish line where he had been helping to hand out medals since he had finished. He gave me my medal and we went off to the after party for our final beer.

It was a good day but we were home and in bed by 6pm because I'm not a youngin like I used to be. Hammered, I went to bed and slept like a baby.

The next day, I tallied my mileage for the year, and realized that I surpassed my goal of 312 miles for the year by a LOT.

2013 Final Mileage= 472.43 miles.

Once this foot injury heals, I'm aiming my sights a little higher. 520 sounds like a good goal, no?

Sidelined again and a yearly wrap up

It is a couple days before Christmas, which means, less than a week until the year of the half marathons ends. I set many goals. The first being to run a half marathon last January. From there, I set a goal of running 13 half marathons this year, because how cool would it be to run 13 races of a 13.1 distance in 2013?

And now that the year is up, although I backed out of the last 2 half marathons that I had purchased entry into for December, I can see that this year has been a successful first full year as a runner.

Not only did I meet and surpass my goal of 13 half marathons by completing SIXTEEN of them (in SIX different states, no less), I also was able to complete ONE 10-miler race, SEVEN obstacle course races at various distances, and ONE 5K.

That's HUGE!

But my heart still breaks when I think about having to withdraw from the last two races of this season (the Palm Beaches Half Marathon, and the Live Ultimate South Beach Half Marathon). I feel like a failure for not starting those races because I have always reminded myself during races that dead last place is better than not finishing, which is better than not even starting. In my mind, not even starting is one of the worst things that I could possibly do as a runner. I'm ok with other people not starting races, but for me, that is just unacceptable.

Even though I have good reason, and logically I know it was a wise decision (something I probably should have considered before December), I struggle with feeling like a failure.

Where we left off in this blog, I was talking about the Space Coast half marathon, and the incredible pain I felt in my right foot. Up until that point, I had been seeing an orthopedic specialist to treat my foot and closely following his orders. I wore a boot. I stayed off of it when he told me to. I took my medications religiously. I got back into walking and then running just like he had suggested. And I believed him.

I returned to the doctor multiple times for follow-ups, and to see if I was a candidate for cortisone shots (which he told me wouldn't be useful). And finally, back in early November, I accepted what he said, and became resigned to the fact that he thought that the swelling had gone down and this was as good as it would get and I was just in pain from trying to get back out there and on it again.

But I still noticed things. Like the fact that when I took photos of my feet, I could clearly see that the swelling was not gone. The fact that I couldn't weight-bear for much more than a few minutes without needing to sit. The fact that I hurt WAY more as the day progressed, rather than hurting more in the morning (as is customary with residual plantar fasciitis as he claimed I had). And the fact that at random times I was still getting shooting pains through both my heel and the outside of my ankle.

I wanted SO badly to be fixed, that I believed everything I was told. Even when people near and dear to me pushed me to get a second opinion. Part of that (I am sure) was pure stubbornness... but the larger part of that was that I was trusting my doctor. He, after all, is an expert. He's supposed to know things. We are supposed to trust our doctors.

But after Space Coast, I knew that I needed to do something different. Whereas I had been feeling as if I had been getting better for awhile, the day before the half marathon, I just couldn't deny that I was actually getting worse. I had spent so much time putting on a happy face, trying to be strong (like the beast that I really wanted to be), and hiding what was really going on... and finally it was too much to hide. Husbeast noticed. Two of my dear running friends noticed. And they staged (what I can only describe as) and intervention. It was time for a second opinion. With a doctor that specializes in feet.

I went for the appt, he did xrays and an ultrasound, and he immediately put me in a much larger and much more archaically torturous boot. I was under strict orders to stay off of it until I could get a new MRI.

The MRI and followup were the next week, and because my dad was in town (and had also been pushing for me to get a second opinion), like I was a six year old with a sore throat, he marched me right into the appt, and waited for the verdict (poised to take notes to relay back to Husbeast).

And whereas there had been a laundry list of problems evident on the last MRI, the good news was that the list was shorter... Only TWO main problems.

The sheaths around the fascia on the inside of my heel were still incredibly inflamed, and there is a huge pocket of inflammation in the outside of my ankle between the bones. Two separate, but perhaps related injuries.

The good news is, that with the assistance of the ultrasound machine, he could give me the cortisone injections that I had so desperately wanted months ago. This was absolutely a nightmare, and I am getting flashbacks just thinking of it so I wont go there in this post, but I got the shots.

And then I went right back into the boot. And have been ordered to stay off of it until my followup on December 27th. I asked if he thought I would be able to be out of the boot by the end of the month because I had some training to get in before my first full marathon in January. He smiled sadly at me and said that he can't know until we get there. But he said that while his body language clearly told me no.

So there we have it. Why I have been so sad the past few weeks. Not only have I been struggling with this injury while being confined to the couch or a chair, but I have been fighting my own demons. I had a goal to do this full marathon, and now I can't. Even when I was mediocre about WANTING to do this race, I had a goal, and I don't take that lightly. What's more, I roped a dear friend into doing it with me when she clearly didn't want to do it in the first place. And now I can't. It's not even that I want to do it. But I made a commitment to her. And I don't take commitments lightly.

So there you have it. Me, not just feeling like a failure to myself, but what's worse, feeling like I have let down other people in the process too. I don't share that because I need a pep talk or anything. I don't need people to lift me up and make me feel better. I feel like crap. And I deserve to feel like crap.

The silver lining to it all though, is that if I don't do the marathon, that gives me more time to heal, which will allow me to do the next big thing. Another 5 races in 5 days in 5 states. Don't worry though, I have time to heal, that isn't for months and months yet. And when I'm back in the game, I will be better than ever. I've come so far already in this journey, I can get my head (AND my body) back in the game. Just looking at my wrist tells me so.
 

Space Coast Half Marathon - December 1, 2013

I  was really excited about the Space Coast Half Marathon. It had been a few weeks since I had been able to share a running trip with my dear friends Brina and Tracy, and it was a great opportunity to see many of my other running friends from afar. On top of that, Space Coast Half marathon has an awesome reputation for a gorgeous course, excellent support, an awesome medal, and of course, the Space Coast theme. Because the race was about 4 hours away from home, we decided to make a mini-vacation of it. Hus-beast and I stayed together at one hotel in Cocoa Beach, while Brina and Tracy shared a room at one of the host hotels.

But being at different hotels didn't really mean all that much, we still spent most of the weekend together enjoying the sights and sharing laughter. After picking up our race packets at Kennedy Space Center, the four of us purchased tickets to the park and wandered around for awhile. I was so excited to be there, but I was in a lot of pain in my right foot.

For months, as I had been battling this chronic injury, I had done really well at masking my pain and not letting anyone know how bad it was. I had become resigned to the fact that the doctor was doing everything he could to help me get better, and that there would just be residual pain leftover. I wore my boot because I knew that I would be spending extra time on my feet (although the doctor told me that I wouldn't need to wear it anymore). I was sore, and hurting, and every step was torturous. So although there we were seeing the most phenomenal exhibit on the space shuttle Atlantis (and actually seeing it up close), my heart wasn't into it, and I really just wanted to go back to the hotel and cry. Eventually, when the 3 of them teamed up on me to tell me for the 6574654563874845347th time that I needed to go to a new doctor for a second opinion, I broke. I couldn't deny it any longer. I knew there was a problem.

The next morning, I was surprised to get out of bed and have the pain be gone. I knew I was taking a chance in running although I was already having some significant foot pain, but I also knew that if necessary, I would hold back a bit and just enjoy the ride. It was cooler than I had hoped it would be, and I knew that this might make for good running conditions. But it was also misty and foggy, leaving a sheen of oil and slipperiness on the pavement which I was concerned about. Yes... I would take it very slow and steady. I asked Brina to run her own race, instead of slowing down to keep me company (I am thinking she met a PR too, but I could be wrong).

The course was straightforward and lived up to all expectations. The race started in the Village of Cocoa Beach, and headed south through an absolutely gorgeous residential area, flanked on the easy by the intercoastal waterway, and on the west by what I can only imagine was multi-million dollar beach mansions... but not the kind of multi-million dollar mansions we see in South Florida, more of what I would think of when I consider other parts of the east coast... more rustic in a way. If that even makes sense.

There were a lot of people. With a race of over 3k half marathoners, an equal number of full marathoners, and various speeds, there were always people to pace with and chat with. Although the ground was slick, I was making good time. After the pain from the day before, I had trouble putting my heart into this race and really wanting to be there in the moment, but by mile 3 I got there. Using the skills that I had developed the past few months with quickening my steps but shortening my stride, I seemed to be doing fairly well pace wise. But because this was a shared course between the full and half, and because the half was actually the second portion of the full, the course was open to participants for a full 8 hours, I had no real need to push for a good time.

And that was good, because by the time I hit mile 9, the pain was coming on in fits and starts. Only now, I was having difficulty with my lower back. and somewhere around mile 10 I realized that I was having trouble holding my head up. I slowed to a walk, and if you looked at me, you could probably tell something was wrong. While I was moving in a full upright position, I couldn't keep my head from rolling back. I spend the next 4 miles (literally) looking down my nose at the course.

Whereas I had spend the first 9 miles at a pace that would have ushered me into a personal best by at least 10 minutes, the last 4 miles had me struggling to even force one foot in front of the other. I was so out of it and so exhausted, unlike in other races from this year where I can remember every moment of coming into the chute and crossing the finishline, I have absolutely no memories of this.

I distinctly remember crouching down to let a little girl put my medal around my neck, standing up and then having the medical team pulling me out of a box of towels at the finish line. Apparently after all that movement, I must have crouched and stood too quickly and I keeled right into a box of finisher's towels! At least it was a soft place to land, right?

Not a PR, but not far off my PR, so I call it a successful race.

I met up with the rest of the group somewhere in the post race area, had a beer, had some pancakes and we headed back to our hotels to clean up. I felt good. But would I be ready to do it all again the following weekend at the Palm Beaches Half Marathon?

Gun: 3:20:30
Pace: 15:19/mile
Female 30-34: 215/258
Gender: 1634-2045
OA: 2457

That afternoon, I finally lost my first toenail (which had given me trouble in Sept but never fell off). I think I can officially call myself a runner now.

30 Days of Thankful

This month on various social media, we have seen people count the month off with 30 things they are thankful for. It is the month of thanksgiving, afterall... the month that really kicks off the holiday season (though I DID see holiday decorations up in a local town before Halloween, and some stores had their Christmas displays out since Mid-September, which I abhor, by the way).


But for me, I chose to do the 30 days of thankful posts to kickstart my positive attitude. Throughout my life I have heard people say that I am a negative nelly... and while I am not sure that is entirely true, I do recognize that I tend to be a half-full kind of glass person, a worry wart, and very rarely optimistic when it comes to my own situations. With others and helping them through tough times, I tend to be really optimistic, but for myself I rarely offer myself that courtesy.

So for me, this month has been about looking around and recognizing the small things that I really can be thankful. And in thinking of all those smaller things... the things I often take for granted... I was able to see just how amazing my life really is, and see just how great I have it. 

Though not running related (and this blog is supposed to only be about my running experiences and less of a personal journal), I chose to share them here, to keep them all compiled in one place to remind myself of this experience.

• Day 1: I am thankful for my amazing husband and the roof he has put over our head and the food he puts on the table.
• Day 2: and I am thankful for my awesome family who supported us through a difficult day today. tomorrow will be better.
• Day 3: I am thankful for the ability to run out at the beach and enjoy another sunrise. Though still much more overweight than I would like to be, I am thankful for being healthier than I ever have before.
• Day 4: Today I am thankful for the little joys of life... pumpkin spice creamer, bright sunshine, and two awesome (not-so-puppy) puppies who are always wanting to shadow me.
• Day 5: Today I am incredibly thankful for every one of life's experiences (good AND bad) which have been woven together to make me the person that I am today. It hasn't always been easy, but I am aware that I might not be as compassionate, as loving, as committed, or as understanding without all of the hard times. It takes a horrible storm to truly appreciate the sun.
• Day 6: Today, I am thankful for quiet nights at home with the husband sharing a bottle of wine. Who says you have to always be out on the town partying until 3am to have a good time? sometimes watching TV and going to bed by 10 is where its at. 
• Day 7: I am thankful for the FUTURE. we can't do anything about the past, but we can live for the future... I am thankful for the opportunity to make my future the priority. This isn't about anyone else, this is about me and aiming to be the best person that I can possibly be.
• Day 8: Thankful for deadlines and how having them can motivate my to complete tasks.
• Day 9: I am thankful for my awesome part time gig at the stadium, even if it means eating a cheese quesadilla (redundant much) from Taco Bell on the way home and knowing i now have only 4 hours to sleep before tomorrow's half marathon.
• Day 10: I am thankful for the number 16 (because seriously? did I really do 16 miles today???), tylenol and painkillers (because seriously? I really did 16 miles today), and aloe vera gel (because that 16 miles was in some serious sun and my skin got fried), and for celebratory margaritas with my dear friend Seth (because 16 miles!).
• Day 11: I am thankful for deluxe pedicures, complete with cooling gel, hot towels and paraffin wax. 'nuff said.
• Day 12: I am thankful today for amazing friends (you know who you are), and motivating me to become the best i can possibly be. thank you. and I love you all.
• Day 13: I am thankful for my grandmother and for birthdays... and for being able to celebrate my grandmother's 87th birthday with her tonight. To one more awesome year... 
• Day 14: I am thankful for the ability to pursue my advanced education and to contribute to the forward thought with innovative research plans. 
• Day 15: I am thankful for having the opportunity for girls night in with the lovely Caitlin and sweet Vikki. Thanks for the great conversation and the dinner. you are the best! ....
• I am also thankful for the people that can make this happen:

  

•  Day 16: I am thankful to have the opportunity to be so thankful and to still be able to see the good in the world though I am constantly bombarded by intolerance and hatred in my professional life.
•  Day 17: I am incredibly thankful that 1 year ago today, I met one of the most beautiful, compassionate, inspirational, and socially conscientious women that I know. She didn't much register as a potential friend the day I met her, but Brina, one year later and you are one of my best friends in the world and I am forever thankful for everything you have contributed toward making me a better person.
• Day 18: I am thankful for sweet puppies, even jenny... and even when she is sick and turns her nose up at anything having to do with me.
• Day 19: after all of the medical issues that came up this year, I am SO thankful for my husband's ability to provide me with the "privilege" of medical insurance. Tomorrow is a return to the cardiologist for my almost 6 month followup... and I am thankful we have gotten my heart rate and BP issues under control.
• Day 20: Today I am thankful for finally making progress again and not being so lost and off the beaten path in dissertation land. I am also hopeful that my cohorts in the candidate stage who may be feeling lost find their path soon.
• Day 21: I am thankful for the sound of the rain on the tin porch roof. Not only is the sound soothing but it is a reminder of all the hard work that Scrubby puts in so that we can have this roof over our head while I pursue my edumacation.
• Day 22: Although I am thankful to have the freedoms that living in this country affords me, today I remain mindful that there is not true equality in this country and that we must continue to fight this injustice.
• Day 23: thankful for opportunities and options. Sometimes we think that we are without them, but we ALWAYS have options. Life is full of decisions to be made and options to be chosen.
• Day 24: Today I am thankful for lazy days spent fulfilling no commitments and owing nothing except to myself and my husband. Today I am thankful for the chance to recharge my batteries to approach the new week head on!
• Day 25: I am thankful for knowing that the next steps of my dissertation are underway and this makes me feel like I am reignited again.
• Day 26: Day 26: I am thankful for nice long pedicures and the foot massage that accompanies them. what a great way to relieve stress!
• Day 27: Tonight I am incredibly thankful for being provided written feedback on my proposal from one of my committee members. This way, she is allowing me adequate time to prepare for the questions that she will want to be addressing during my proposal defense NEXT FRIDAY. now... because I've never been in this situation before... does this mean I am to modify my proposal to also address the issues that she brought to light?
• Day 28: I am thankful for the abundance of food on the table and not going to bed hungry. I am also thankful for having the opportunity to serve others so that they do not go to bed hungry tonight either.
• Day 29: I am thankful for the little things like a quiet house first thing in the morning, and a warm cup of coffee.
• Day 30: I am thankful for the amazing month of November and all the awesome things I was reminded that I am so fortunate to have. Who knows? Why limit my thankfulness and recognition of the little things just to the month of November. It certainly helps keep the messiness of life in perspective and allows me to see light where otherwise I may have only focused on the darkness.