Disney's Tinkerbell Pixie Dust Challenge- May 9 & 10, 2015

I've really been dragging my feet on blogging, and part of the reason is that I like to post in some type of chronological order, and I wasn't ready to talk about the Disney Land Pixie Dust Challenge that took place over mothers day weekend at Disney Land in Anaheim California.

Prior to registering for this race, I had actually sworn off Run Disney. I am certain that saying this will get me drawn and quartered, but I am really not a fan. My first half marathon was a Run Disney. I've done a number of their events before, and I really have been left with a bad taste in my mouth. Now before anyone tars and feathers me, let me explain... I am a solo runner. I like races because I can be with other people and get the crowd experience, but Disney races are over crowded. The course in Orlando really cannot support the 30,000 + runners that it hosts, there are bottle necks, and the crowds are intense. I am really NOT a crowd person. The Miami Marathon sees the same number of participants every year, and the course doesn't even feel a quarter as crowded. Then factor in the money. A Disney race is expensive. And with the fees, it feels like a lot of the participants feel a sense of entitlement. Yes, you are entitled to get a good race experience and entitled to have a great time, but you are NOT entitled to some of the shenanigans that I have seen at Run Disney events.  So all that being said, I am not a huge fan.

But a dear friend of mine is. She came out for Wine and Dine last year (yes, the race that we essentially swam because it was raining that hard), and then she came to visit me not long after that to defend her doctoral dissertation. She told my darling husband that she was running the Pixie Dust Challenge in the spring, and my husband thought that (although I had sworn off Disney except for a repeat of Wine and Dine this coming November) I should join her on the trip. Except the registration had come and gone already, so I might have been out of luck.

The following week, I got an email from my friend saying that she had found a charity group that I could partner with in order to get a race bib. I should probably also say that I am not a big fan of charity groups because usually they take a huge cut of the money raised for frivelous stupidity like airfare, travel and lodging, and astronomical salaries... but I looked into the group she recommended to me.

The name of the group is Team Muscle Makers, and as it turns out, they are absolutely fantastic. Their fundraising requirements per person are reasonable, and they are able to keep them reasonable by not including airfare, travel, and lodging. But best of all... the organizers of the charity do not take salaries. YES! you read that right. They donate 100% of the monies raised to the Rady Children's Hospital in San Diego where there is a state of the art muscle disease clinic that provides care absolutely free to their patients... which included the son of one of the founders of the charity group. I have to say, I was nervous signing away my soul to raise almost $1,000 for this group of strangers, but they made the entire process seamless. And I walked away with dozens of new friends. In fact, although I swore off Run Disney races, and I don't need to run California again for my goal of all 50 states, I am actually considering partnering with this group again in 2017 for another charity race.

The weekend itself left me with mixed feelings. I was dealing with a lot of stuff in my personal life in relation to my job. I didn't have a lot of time to take away from Florida because it was the middle of the semester, so it was a super quick trip. As soon as my plane landed, I actually had more work stuff dumped on me via email, and I spent the weekend juggling work stress and frustration, all while spending time with my best friend in one of the happiest places on earth. Because of this crazy stress, we didn't spend a lot of time at the parks between races, and most of the weekend was a blur. What I do remember was that packet pickup was much messier than it would be at a Florida Run Disney event, so that left me feeling a little nervous.

yes, that's me. 

But the morning of the 10K, all those jitters went flying out the window. The pre-race party and the corral system were absolutely spectacular, I didn't feel overwhelmed by crowds, I had the space to breathe, and I was relaxed... unlike the other Florida events where the crowds get me antsy.

My friend had a bad experience a few months prior while she was attempting the Goofy half marathon & full marathon challenge. She got swept during mile 19 or something during the full marathon on day 2... so she was nervous about attempting another 2 day challenge... but I've done these before and knew how to tackle back-to-backs. The number one rule is to start SLOW.

The first mile or so of the 10K is outside of the park, then you run through the park for a few miles, and finish with another mile or so outside of the park. It seriously went by in a blur. I think I can chalk that up to my frustration over my job situation. We finished in a respectable time, and I was happy... although, there really wasn't much post race nutrition available as there had been a fiasco with a recalled item in the snackbox. Oh well.

10K
Gun: 2:01:01
Chip: 1:31:03
Pace: 14:39

On Day 2 (half-marathon day), my friend woke up with some serious stiffness from her fibromyalgia. And then combine that with her fears of being swept, and she was a jittery mess. I vaguely remember it being chilly at the start, but I don't much remember.We took a pre-race photo with other TMM runners, then chatted with them in the starting corrals. The plan was to start slow, and I told my friend to stick with me and I could keep her ahead of the balloon ladies and free of being swept. We started slow. REALLY REALLY SLOW.

We were already in the last corral, but toward the front of the pack in the corral, but we started just over 17 minutes per mile. The first couple of miles were once again on city streets, followed by 6 or 7 in the parks, then another few miles on city streets at the tail end. My friend immediately started to panic when she looked at her Garmin to see more than 17 minutes per mile... but I just told her to relax and trust my process. She was sore, so she didn't have much choice. By mile 1.5, we limbered up a little. I picked up the pace to bring us to just slightly over 16 minutes per mile. Then by the time we entered the parks, we were closing in on just under 16 minutes per mile average.

Once in the parks, I tuned out my own aches. I think that actually translated into tuning out a lot of the parks too. To be honest, the parts of the course that I remember the best were actually outside of the parks on the city streets. My friend was still in a lot of pain, so I pulled a few steps in front of her to help encourage her to keep pace in order to talk to me. It worked. by mile 7, although she was still in a lot of pain, out pace was closing in on 15:30 overall.

Around mile 8, we came across a fellow #Run3rd runner who was having a bad go of it. I encouraged her to pace with us, which she did. We exited the parks and were back on the streets of Anaheim and I realized I had a lot of gas left in the tank. Out of nowhere, I started pushing the pace even more. The 3 of us were single file along the median of the city streets, and we were suddenly flying past other runners who were struggling. I know we were a sight... I was barking out commands to them about being strong and ignoring the pain, one might have thought I was a drill sergeant in a previous life... and I looked at my Garmin and realized that our overall pace was dropping to 15:20, and realized that with close to 4 miles left, I could PR.


And then with the encouragement of my friends, I did something that I never thought that I would do.

I abandoned them.

I was going to chase that PR. And I was going to get it.

Everything was blur. I had 4 miles to get that PR that I had been chasing for almost 2 whole running seasons. I vaguely remember passing people that I knew and saying hi, but other than that, everything else was so far in the periphery I can't even begin to explain what was going through my mind.

I was shocked out of my blurred thinking about a half a mile before the finishline. I looked at my Garmin and saw that I had already registered 13.1 miles, and I had indeed broken my PR... at least according to my Garmin. And it was like the wind was just sucked right out of me as I realized that the finishline was still so far away. I was devastated. I wanted to do nothing more than cry and throw myself down on the ground and cry some more. I had gotten my PR, but it wouldn't count because the course was registering much longer than my watch.

this is actually a pic from day 1, see? shoes still here.

I crossed the finishline with tears in my eyes, frustrated but determined. Next time, I would get that PR. If I did it once, I could do it again.

And then I lost my shoes.

But that's a story for another time.


Half Marathon
Gun: 3:51:07
Chip: 3:18:46

Half Marathon #38
State #14

Angel Flight SE 5k - May 2, 2015

I'm not really one for the 5k distance, but I knew that I need to get some of my running mojo back after being hit by a car during my previous half marathon, and then my first ultra marathon 50k distance race. I had a big race weekend in California coming up with my friend, and I needed to make sure that I kept the running mojo flowing freely.

I hadn't intended to sign up for a 5k, and considering that I am essentially a "bling whore" at heart, I never really intended to sign up for a 5k that didn't provide runners with any kind of medal at the end. Yes, I like my medals, sue me.

But I saw this race on active, and this was essentially a benefit for a non-profit that I could stand behind. The beneficiary of this race is Angel Flight Southeast, a volunteer pilot organization of more than 650 volunteer pilots who utilize their own aircraft, fuel and time to provide free air transportation to medical facilities for citizens who are financially distressed or otherwise unable to travel on public transportation. Angel Flight Southeast also coordinates missions to fly organ transplant candidates, people involved in clinical trials, chemotherapy or other repetitive treatment, victims of abuse seeking relocation, families receiving help from Ronald McDonald Houses, Shriners Hospitals and many other charities, disabled or sick children to special summer camp programs, and for many other humanitarian reasons. Angel Flight Southeast coordinates an average of 3,000 missions per year with its group of all volunteer pilots. 

Who wouldn't see a fundraiser for such an amazing organization and jump to stand behind them?
The 5k itself was held at a small private airport just north of Ft. Lauderdale. It was already the tail end of the running season in S. Florida so the turnout wasn't that great, plus the organizers didn't publicize the race the way that they should have, so the race was a really small event. 

The race started on one of the runways, ran down the perimeter road, then back into the main area of the aiport. We ran the last 2 miles on the runway and then through the hangars. Many of the private plane owners and helicopter owners were out, and we were watching them take off and do touch and goes throughout the entire race, so that was definitely cool. On the downside, there was absolutely no shade on the course, and we were on hot tarmac the entire time... and the smell of jet fuel.

All in all, it was an excellent event. I went out there, I performed my best (all things considered), and I was met by puppies at the finishline... It wasn't a pr, but it was close! And considering that heat and humidity? I couldn't really expect much more than what I got. Did I mention the puppies?



Chip: 43:14.7
Pace: 13:36/ Mile
OA: 118/124
30-34F: 8/9

Fort Lauderdale A1a Half Marathon - February 15, 2015

On Day 1 of the Fort Lauderdale A1a weekend, I ran a 5k.

On day 2, I had to wake up bright eyed and bushy tailed to arrive at my 35th half marathon.

I knew that this half marathon was going to be a slow one. I was feeling somewhat down on myself and my athletic abilities for the past few weeks (maybe even months). Thankfully, my dear friend Lisa was coming down from the Stuart area of Florida, so I would get to see her and spend some time with her.

Lisa had previously done some significant damage to her knee, and was waiting on the results of an MRI or something. Because she's a crazy half fanatic just like me, she wasn't about to let some pesky injury slow her down. I decided before the weekend even started that I would forgo my own pace and would instead walk with Lisa and hope for a finish that was sub 4 hours.

This would be the 3rd time that I had done this course, and while it really is one of my favorite courses to date, I felt confident in my decision to spend the morning enjoying the event with my friend at her pace.

The course is straightforward, starting in downtown Fort Lauderdale, going over the intercoastal and toward the beach, then north for for 2 miles to a small park which is very peaceful and serene. Then back out to the beach, northward until mile 8, then a turnaround and south on the beach until the finishline.

I had a lot of friends who were also participating in the race, and it was nice to see them out there on the course. A few friends got their elusive PRs, and I couldn't be happier for them. Around mile 12, I had a friend leave the oceanfront restaurant that she was having brunch at and walk the last mile or so with me to encourage us on a nice finish.

I finished strong, as did my friend Lisa. We met up with other friends at the finishline area, and then we went off to start our day. There really isn't all that much to say about this race... unremarkable course as it was my 3rd time doing it, unremarkable weather, unremarkable pace. The real joy was in the camaraderie and conversation with a dear friend that I don't get to spend a lot of time with.


Listen, it wasn't my best finish time, but I took solace knowing that I had accomplished more in that morning before everyone else was awake than most do over the course of the day.

And hey, it was half marathon #35.

Gun 4:05:44
Chip 3:59:40
Pace 18:18/ mile
AG 334/340
OA 4200/4240

Ft Lauderdale Valentines Day 5k- February 14, 2015

It was my plan all along to run the Gasparilla Distance Amber Challenge in Tampa at the end of February, and I was falling a little behind on my training schedule. The Amber Challenge consists of a 15k followed by a 5k on the first day, then a half marathon the following day. Obviously, I have done challenges like this before, however, I was always a bit more trained. So at the last minute, when I found out that there was a Valentines Day 5k as part of the A1a half marathon weekend in Fort Lauderdale, I signed up in a heartbeat.

There aren't a lot of places to plan a 5k course through downtown Ft Lauderdale, so the course was one that I had ran numerous times before. My familiarity with the course helped me to break up the distance a little more and provided some much needed distraction.

REMEMBER... I don't usually run 5K races because it usually takes me about 3 miles to warm up during a run and shake out the aches and pains. And because of this, I needed all the distraction that I could get.

As I meandered my way through the course, and cursed the nagging pains in my shins and lower legs that have become my standard for the beginning of any run, I chatted with fellow runners. I wound up meeting a woman who was really struggling, and I offered her a little encouragement along the way.

It was a short race, the crowd was pleasant, the weather was nice. I was home before my husband even woke up for the day... so that was good. And although I treated it like a training run for the half marathon that would follow the next day, and for the Gasparilla Distance Amber Challenge a couple of weeks later, my pace wasn't that far off from a 5k PR.

I was proud of myself. And when I ate those chocolate covered strawberries later, I didn't feel guilty one bit.

Gun 45:03
Chip 43:45
Pace 14:05
Cat 52/57
OA 639/838

Run Til You're Boared 50K Ultra Marathon- April 5, 2015

I know that I am still really far behind in blogging about races from this year... 9 races behind to be exact, but I had to jump forward to talk about my most recent race. Look at the title of this post... that's not a typo. It *is* supposed to say 50K... also known as just over 31 miles... also known as absolutely insane! I wanted to blog about it while the memories are still fresh, so here goes...

***

If someone had told me at the beginning of the year that I would be an ultra marathoner, I would have accused them of being into some fairly serious drugs. I've only been running for 4 years, and my first half marathon was in January of 2012. I attempted to train for my first marathon which was scheduled for January 2013, but I gave up after chronic injuries left me in constant pain.

When I backed out of my marathon experience, I realized that I really wasn't all that sad. When I stopped to think about it, I realized that I didn't really want to be a marathoner. Sure, it would have been nice to put in the training and get it done, but I wasn't doing it because I wanted to do it, but rather because it felt like the only logical step after completing countless half marathons already.

I'm a back of the packer.  I have asthma. I'm overweight. I struggle with foot issues. Sure, I wanted to take my running to the next level while overcoming great obstacles, but deep down, I knew that marathoning wasn't for me. Friends would ask me all the time when I planned to take that leap, but after that failed attempt at training for a marathon, the answer was always the same: I just don't want to. Maybe you want to, but I don't.

And then something crazy happened.

I spent the weekend at a race with my dear friend Mel, and he paced me through a 15k, a 5k and a half marathon. And he kept talking about this crazy event he would be doing on Easter Sunday in Jacksonville: a 50K Ultra Trail race calledthe Run Til You're Boared. I thought he was insane, but I wanted to check out the website. He told me repeatedly that this was the perfect race for me to take my running up a notch without the pressure that is normally associated with a full marathon.

But I was so untrained...

By the time my interest was piqued enough to pull the trigger on registration and get airfare to Jacksonville, I only had 5 weeks to train. And training wouldn't be easy. I had never logged over 14 miles at a time, and never logged over 18 miles in a day... somehow I had to get my head around how this was all going to work. I messaged Bobby Green (the race director) a few times to ask about terrain, I talked to a couple of established ultra runners for their advice, and I told a couple of very select friends. I was afraid that if I told everyone before the event, that they would think I was a failure if I didn't cross the finish-line.

On the day of the race, crossing the finish-line seemed like the easiest thing in the world. The real struggle for me was crossing the start-line. From the moment we pulled into the park, I was nauseous and overcome with an intense feeling of dread. 10 seconds before the start of the race I burst into tears and started to hyperventilate. But my friend Mel was right there by my side, as were other veteran ultra runners who turned to me and gave me encouraging smiles and words.

Even after the gun went off and we started our VERY long day of running, the attitude of other runners never changed. People were absolutely exhausted, some were downright miserable in their own socks and shoes, but they were each out there doing their own version of epicness... and they were supportive of each and everyone else on the course.

We were taking liberal bathroom breaks, breaks to change and refuel, and enjoying the opportunity to be in such a gorgeous setting, and this reflected in our time. For the most part, the course was fairly straightforward. 5 loops of 6.2 miles, all relatively flat, mostly in dirt roads through the wildlife preserve. But there were a few tricky areas of the course where we were routed through burn-breaks (where the course significantly narrowed and the footing was through deep loosely packed dirt and sand).

But although the course was tricky at times, the support more than made up for it. There were 3 aid stations on the course, and the race director did an excellent job of anticipating everyone's needs. My stomach was so upset during the race that I had to survive almost entirely off of pepsi (for sugar) and pickle juice (for salt), but there were options for both vegetarians and carnivores alike... with food ranging from gummy bears and marshmallow peeps, to bananas and oranges, to pb&j and bacon. Because the field of runners was so small, the volunteers at the aid station quickly learned what each runner preferred and made certain that it was immediately available to them when they came through. In retrospect, the only thing that I think the aid stations should have had at the very front of their tables was sunscreen... the weather was perfect, but it was overcast... so although I applied sunscreen, it clearly wasn't enough... note to self: next time be more careful.

Anyway, There were a few moments where I worried that I wouldn't be able to finish the race in the prescribed 10 hour time limit, but not once did I allow my mind to go to the negative side of questioning whether a finish was possible or not. Which I think leads me to the most important revelation of the day...

Anything is possible with the right attitude and mindset.

With an eye on the finish, you can do anything you put your mind to... as long as you really put your mind to it, failure is not an option. Barring any unforeseen injuries (which are always possible), your mind gives out long before your body ever will. If you enter a situation with the right attitude, the power of positive thinking will get you far. This is obviously not just a lesson for running, but sometimes it takes a crazy experience like an ultra to bring something like this into perspective.

At the end of the day, I was the last finisher with a time of 9:44:16. Not bad, all things considered. Age awards are 5 deep in ultras, and my time also qualified me as having achieved 4th place in my age division. I still can't believe that I did it! 

My name is Amy, and I'm an ultra runner!

I think the best way to really understand what this event was all about is to watch a video or two. Here are a couple of videos that my friend Mel took while we were out there... if you had to watch just one, I might suggest the last video which shows us coming into the finish line and all the excitement that went into it:

RTYB 50k 3rd loop video
Posted by Mel Abando on Monday, April 6, 2015

RTYB 50K 4th loop video
Posted by Mel Abando on Monday, April 6, 2015

RTYB 50k 5th and last loop video 2 - Finish line
Posted by Mel Abando on Monday, April 6, 2015

Cleared for takeoff!

In the the last post about my foot, we weren't certain of what the prognosis was. I had an MRI done and there was some evidence of swelling in the bones again, but no clear breakage. The doctor had a mixed prognosis. He wanted to have me remain in the boot until the swelling went down, but he also recognized that staying in the boot for much longer was potentially going to come with its own problems. I was already having the heel swelling return to the other foot, I was already limping around from the boot on the left, but couldn't put much pressure on the right either. I was starting to have some soreness in my knees and hips too. We felt that I was either damned if I do, damned if I don't.

In the end, he decided it was actually better to keep my right foot from re-injury, and to come out of the boot altogether. I had another round of cortisone shots in the right foot, to stave off any new injury, but as much as he wanted to keep the left immobilized, it was time to move on.

I was restricted from doing things like Zumba and running long distances, but slowly I started adding some longer distance walks back in.

Last night I did my first run post-injury at the WOBCC Run Club, and I surprised myself. the first 2 miles were about 45 seconds per mile faster than my pre-injury pace last summer. I took a beating on my lower back from the running surface (concrete sidewalks which are not my friends), and sat down around 2 miles to stretch. the last 3/4 of a mile was a bit slower, but all in all I ended the night at about 30 seconds faster per mile than pre-injury pace from last summer.

I was beat, but I did it.

Tomorrow, I'm off to Utah to visit a friend and do my first half marathon back after my injury. I know my body well enough that my goal isn't going to be to run the whole thing, but rather my goal is to just finish it within the time limit. I recognize that I am untrained right now, and that I will more than likely have to walk half the race, but I'm ok with that. I just want to finish and have a good time in a place I've never been before.

HTFU* and a one week challenge

What on earth have I gotten myself into?

A couple of my friends posted a challenge to facebook this weekend that basically their facebook friends would get to dictate what their running mileage would be for the week. In essence, they pledged to (in a 7 day time period) run the number of miles equivalent to the number of "likes" that they received to the post.

Thinking that I rarely have people like or comment on my posts, and thinking it would be fun, I bravely accepted the gauntlet that had been thrown down, and posted the following to my wall:

OK, my run buds Jennifer Hatcher and Edna Montoya threw down the gauntlet with their challenges. here's the thing, I need to get off my butt and get caught up to the mileage.

CHALLENGE

For every LIKE I receive to this post, I will do1 mile this week. LIKES on this post end at midnight tonight! (I had a cap on this but Jennifer told me to HTFU.) the week will start tomorrow.

I thought this could be fun. And while I was panicky at first thinking I needed to cap it at 40 miles at absolute max for the week, my friend reminded me that if I capped it at 40, then I might as well have just posted to my wall that I was going to run 40 miles for the week and not leave the option for anyone else to dictate my mileage.

I was scared, but she was right, and I needed to HTFU*. I removed the note about capping out at 40 miles, and bit my nails while watching the likes on my post rise and rise and rise. 

5 hours later, the polls closed, and I wound up with a total of 63 likes, equaling 63 miles to be completed in 7 days. Plus a dear friend informed me that hers would count for 2 likes. I figure, I'm already going to do 63 miles, why not add another?

64/7= 9.14 miles per day.

or I could break it into 2 times per day and get 4.57 miles per time out. and that seems really manageable... less than a year ago I managed 78.6 miles in 6 days, 2 months ago I managed 65.5 miles in 5 days... if I could do that, I can most certainly do this. 

But still, its a daunting task. Ok, enough jabbering, lets get this show on the road.  

This journey of 64 miles begins with one step.

*HTFU is one of my loving mantras, taught to me by my friend Jennifer on my 6 in 6 day fiasco, and it stands for Harden The F*** UP

Heroes in Recovery 6k- May 3, 2014

I was wiped after my last race series that brought me through 5 states in 5 days to do 5 half marathons. I wound up walking them, which though I insisted that I was ok with, I was still kind of kicking myself for.

The course at Tradewinds park

It took me a lot of hard work to be able to say that I could run a half marathon. It took a long time and a lot of hard work for me to get to a point where I considered myself a runner, but I over did it. And I was left paying a very high price. Being sidelined, particularly when there is such a negative stigma that follows around those who walk at races can do a number on the psyche. Being called "just a walker" really can take a toll on a person, but even worse, when so many people say it in a negative way, those of us who walk races find ourselves internalizing this sometimes, at least I know that I do. I do the mileage. I go out there for hours and hours on end, putting one foot in front of another, racking up a ridiculous about of mileage, but walking it leaves me feeling inferior. I'm sure that a lot of that is my own conditioning of feeling like I am not good enough, feeling like an imposter in the running community, and just having poor self-esteem. Regardless, that's not really the point of this post, and I am quickly digressing. So back to the topic at hand.

I was wiped after my last race series that had me walking for a grand total of 65.5 miles through the Mississippi delta.

I knew that what my brain and my body needed more than anything was a break. I'd been constantly on the go for so long, racking up miles upon miles of race mileage, and that's not even considering all those hours out there that I plugged away at training runs. I was exhausted. My body was hurting, my brain was hurting.  It was time for a real break, one where I focused on other activities... Like zumba. And the gym. But I found that I kept putting myself up on that treadmill to walk just a few miles to keep my mileage up. And slowly the pain started to subside. And I felt like my ankles and feet were getting stronger. and I was remembering why I did all of this in the first place. Because it certainly sucks when I am doing it, it was nice to feel good again after putting in a little mileage.

And so that's why, even though I had been on a kick to resist entering into any more races until the fall when I know my body has had a bit more time to recover, I found a couple smaller races to enter which would (hopefully) allow me to rebuild some confidence and keep my endurance up. I had wanted to do the Heroes in Recovery 6K last year, but I had something else scheduled for that weekend. So when I found this year, when I found out that it was coming to town again, I signed up at the very last minute. I had hoped Husbeast might want to join me and get some of his running mojo back, but alas, it didn't happen. Not only was it a shorter distance than I normally do, but it is a cause that is near and dear to my heart, promoting healing from drug and alcohol addiction and the reclamation of life. How can one not support something like that?

So bright and early on May 3, I drove up to Tradewinds park in Coconut Creek, well prepared for a nice leisurely, no stress, shorter race. I wasn't aiming for any specific goal time, I just wanted to be out there and support a good cause, and try my hand (ahem, my feet) at running again. Would my weak ankles and feet let me do it? I really like my interval timer on my garmin, but I really only wanted it for the interval beeping, not to keep myself on any specific pace or to force myself to go faster. I just wanted to go out there and do my thing.

And I did. The course was gorgeous, we passed the lakes and stables. Of course the smell of the stables made it a little difficult for me to breathe, but I was out there having a good time. And I was smiling. There were a lot of walkers out there too. And by walkers, I don't mean veterans to racers who just happen to be walking. Because this event benefited various rehabilitation centers, there were a LOT of people who were bussed in from local programs to participate. Many of whom, it was clear by the way that they were dressed and by their etiquette on the course, were out doing their first event like this. This made the first mile or so difficult because there were walls of people in denim shorts who were walking at no more than a 22 minute mile who I needed to dodge and weave around. But with a little time, the herd thinned out, and I found myself pacing and leapfrogging with a couple of women who were also really enjoying themselves.

Before I knew it, I was already hitting the 5K mark and just had a little more to go till the finish line. I was tired. The humidity was getting to me, the heat was oppressive, and the hot dusty breeze from the pastures and stables made it feel awful to try to get a full deep breath. But the finish line was in sight. I ran in, and was shocked to see that my garmin said that I had made a PR!

Unfortunately, all that meandering to get around groups early on in the event made my mileage go over, which slowed me down overall by 8 seconds per mile. Yikes. Still, it felt pretty dang good to go out there and enjoy running so much once again. The additional excitement from a near PR was just icing on the cake.

Gun 56:33.8
Chip 56:11.2
Pace 15:06/ mile
Time back 24:02.8 (Negative Splits!)
OA 230/397

Race for Women's Wellness, Coral Springs Half - 3/29/2014

I'd run the Coral Springs half before. And absolutely loved every moment of it. Granted, the last time I ran it, I had Brina with me, and we chattered the whole way through the course so I didn't really have much time to love it... but never-the-less... when the registration for this year's Race for Women's Wellness half marathon opened, I was quick to register to secure my spot, eventhough I knew I would be running solo.

Organizationally, I think they worked out some kinks since last year's innaugural half marathon. Instead of having the packet pickup at the local recplex field, they held it at the nearby runner's depot. This allowed folks an escape from the sun and oppressive heat that can become South Florida's afternoon standard. This also allowed the participants to pick up the few extras that they may need in preparation for the race. So well done there, folks, kudos!

The morning of the race, because it was a straight 20 minute shot from my house, I was able to sleep in a little. Unfortunately, when I woke up, I was feeling like a 10 ton mammoth and needed to try on everything in my running wardrobe (despite laying out clothes the night before), so I still wound up getting a later start than planned. But I still got there, with a little time to burn before the start. I even remembered my to tape up the feet and ankles really well and put on my calf sleeves. Sadly, all this remembering of things before hand left me forgetting my trusty handana during the event, and I spent 13.1 miles trying to blink salt out of my eyes. Oops, you win some, you lose some.

In my pre-race de-stressing, I finally caught up with some folks that I had known from previous South Florida races who I had been meaning to catch up with for some time. Mark Lewin, is somewhat of a local running legend (pictured bare-chested here), as he has been running his whole life, despite what should be debilitating scoliosis which has gotten worse in his later years. He does walk/run/walk intervals, and boy can that man move. He said he was a real "back of the packer" and wanted to start from the very last spot. we parted ways, and I moved a little further into the corral to get a little more of a boost from the crowd.

The anthem played (at least I think it played, though the sound system was bad so I could barely hear anything), and the race started. No gun, no loud noises to get us going. Just suddenly the corral started moving, and we were off.

The first mile of the course isn't that well lit and goes along the access road to the recplex. It feels like it takes forever just to get to the main road entry. The pavement is nice, but I forgot about those speed humps. For people in other parts of the country, I am sure you would balk at the idea of this, but speed humps are torture for this flat lander! I was doing my regular intervals, but those humps were killing me! And there were like a bajillion... ok, that was an exaggeration... there were maybe 5 spread out through the first mile. but it felt like a bajillion.

I took strength thinking of fellow half fanatic Bobby Praythor who died of an undiagnosed heart issue shortly after the Coral Springs Half last year, and who I had shared a lot of race laughter with during my first race season. Thinking of him brought a smile to my face, but did little to mask the pain. At approximately .58 mile into the event, I realized that I was having some pain in my right foot again. Not the same pesky pain I was battling all year last year, but rather a sharp pain whenever I kicked off my right and my foot was flexing against the ground.

With Riverboat series coming up in 2 weeks (at the time), I knew I had a decision to make. I didn't want to take any unneccessary risks, and resigned myself to walking. I stopped at the water stop at mile marker 1, stretched out my calves and waited for my new friend Isabella to catch up. Isabella had been battling her own injury and was taking it slowly. There was one woman behind her, and the SAG wagon was already picking her up. Mark (the self-proclaimed snail, was already long gone by this point). This would be a LONG race if people were already getting picked up by the SAG wagon.

I talked to Isabella for a little while, and then realizing that I was walking at a faster clip than she, I carried along without her. Around mile marker 2, I picked my "people" that I was going to beat. If I couldn't beat them, I would at least catch up with them. They were also walking and were probably about 1-2 tenths of a mile in front of me. I picked up my pace.

When I felt like slowing down, I thought of my friend Eleanor who died a couple of weeks ago after a years long battle with various cancers. She was such a fighter, and was determined to be strong and independent. And I thought of the fact that the proceeds from the race would be benefitting one of the local breast cancer programs. I felt that I was pushing through for her, and It really helped me keep the pace.

Wouldn't you know, I didn't catch up to my "people" until mile marker 7. I looked at my garmin, and I was walking at a fairly fast (for me) clip, somewhere around 15:50 per mile. As we rounded the corner for mile marker 7, and I passed them, the SAG wagon pulled up next to us. Panicky, I looked at the passenger and said "you aren't here for me, are you?!?!?!" I didn't wait for her response. But then the SAG wagon did something different. they pulled in front of me about a tenth of a mile, and they LET PEOPLE OFF.

WHO DOES THAT?!?!?!

First I saw the woman in pink get off. She was the woman who was picked up before mile marker 1. Then I saw Isabella. She had tears in her eyes. She was shaking her head and gritting her teeth. She told me she had been picked up about a quarter of a mile back, despite being well within the 18 minute/mile time limit. I tried to cheer her up, but I think her pride was a little hurt, so I gave her some space. Besides, on fresh legs was the woman in pink, IN FRONT OF ME. I would be damned if she stayed in front of me for long.

Between mile 8 and 9, the course veers off the main streets and snakes through a school parking lot for about a half a mile. I got in front of the woman in pink right before turning into the parking lot, and walked as fast as my aching legs would carry me. I passed 3 other groups of walkers at that point. I felt good about myself. Though I was walking the event, I knew I would be finishing strong.

Coming out of the school, I looked ahead to see who the next goal people to pass would be, and that damn woman in pink! wouldn't you know, she was in front of me again. She had skipped the school parking lot, cutting the course by half a mile, and was now half a mile in front of me. I WAS LIVID.

Understand, while I go out and do a lot of "races," I am not actually racing against anyone other than myself. I am not delusional enough to think that my times matter in the larger scheme of the racing world. I know I will never place. I will never place anything but the bottom 30th percentile. I will never be considered a "real" athlete by many. But course cutters really get to me. No, it doesn't matter to me if someone wants to cut the course and say they did a half marathon distance when they rode a van for 6 miles and cut out an additional half mile. Really, there isn't much impact on me. But I *do* want my earned place in the standings. And if that means that I come in 266/273 instead of 267/273, then I want what I *earned.* Someone who cuts the course, shouldn't take my spot.

I had to catch that woman. I was seething. Teeth gritting, arms pumping, feet stomping much harder on the ground than they should, determination strethening, SEETHING.

And instead of plowing my seething, heaving self past her, I slowed to her pace for a moment, and offered a kind word. What's wrong with me that I am so nice sometimes?

Her walk intervals were faster than her run intervals, she was too tense, she was risking injury. I gently let her know that its ok to have an off day, and that she should be gentle with herself, and forgo the run intervals for the duration of the race because they weren't doing her any good. She thanked me, and then I was off again.

I dislike the last couple of miles of this course, so I think I block that from my memory,  I was soon at the finishline. The awards ceremony was going on in another area, and the crowds had already dissipated, leaving only a few straggling spectators (which there really were not many of on the course, much to my sadness). A man came out into the chute and chivalrously offered me his arm to "escort me to the finish line" as he joyfully told me, and I finished. Rumor has it that the man who waltzed me to the finish line was the mayor of Coral Springs, and while being a small city politician is not a huge prestigeous position in the larger reality, I think its pretty dang cool that the mayor would come out and do that for participants!

NET 3:34:45.277
Pace 16:23 (I really slowed down that last 2 miles, no wonder I was trying to block it from my memory)
OA 403/411
Gen 266/273
Cat 32/34

As I was recovering, I saw Isabella rounding the corner and went to bring her a cold water and walk her in until the mayor took over. We rested and laughed together, and then I saw the woman in pink come in. With all the fanfare of being the last "finisher." She had the cruisers and the motorcade, the excitement, the announcement, and the look of exhaustion after having completed (not her first) half marathon. Except she didn't really do the distance. And I just felt sorry for her.

She went through the chute and thanked me for the encouragement and bringing her to a "strong finish of today's half marathon." She had the half marathon medal around her neck (which as an aside, i was NOT impressed with this year as it is about 3/4 inches by 2 inches wide, and at least half the size of the medals they were hanging out for the 5k race which does 3/4 less distance). She was proud of herself. And while I am proud of her for doing what she could do (like I would be for anyone going out there and doing something healthy for themself), it just made me sad.

She started the race, she finished it, but she definitely didn't do all the miles in the middle. Does it make me a bad person for being so sad for her?

Phoenix rising

In exactly one month, I will be at Columbus-Belmont State Park in Kentucky, attempting the first half marathon in another 5 half marathons in 5 states, and 5 consecutive days series. Yikes.

When we first started planning this trip, I had come off of the infamous 6 in 6 in 6 race series in the great plains... I was nursing a very badly damaged heel and ankle... I was a bit down on myself for under-performing... and I was looking to do this 5x5x5 as a way to redeem myself.

Looking back on the past 6 months, I still have that desire to redeem myself and run all 5 in the Riverboat series (bringing us through Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas, Mississippi, and Louisiana), but I also know more about my body and my injury than I did back then. Looking back, I am once again thinking I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this new series.

In the middle of February, after finishing the Disney Glass Slipper Challenge (a 10k followed by a half marathon the next day), I had a regularly scheduled followup with my podiatrist/foot surgeon, and I learned that the inflammation had reared its ugly head again. I was hobbling around for about a week, and then I was told that for any longer distances (even walking) I should be wearing my boot again. The Dr. told me that I could walk with the boot on for the 13.1 Miami Beach half marathon, and I did. I thought I would be swept the entire time, I had some serious pain coming in through the inside of my bad ankle, and I started to have some IT band issues with that same leg... probably from hefting my weight and the extra weight of the boot for over 13 miles, combined with a limp.

So now I sit, exactly one month out of what should be me going out there and proving something to myself, and not really sure what kind of training I will be able to complete before hand.

I was supposed to do a half this coming Saturday but I've already cancelled. I've got a few more weeks to really baby myself, but I've also got to get that training in to prepare for this trip. 2 weeks from Sat, I have another half (that I fully plan to participate in)... but it looks like I'll be spending a lot of time at the gym the next few weeks trying to pretend on the elliptical machines.

Its time to get down to business.

I definitely don't want to do it in a boot.

From the ashes, this phoenix needs to rise.

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.)
 

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.

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.