Get 'yer head in the game already, damnit!
Let me preface by saying thank you to everyone for your kind words and support the past few days. I've taken it all to heart and have ultimately decided that a DNS (when you're completely capable) is far worse than a DNF. Lately my head and my heart haven't been aligned with this whole running thing. My heart wants to run the marathon, and while I am mentally prepared for the distance, my head is having issues wrapping itself around other things in my life...this is what has caused my sudden "boo to running" and my inability to just get my head in the game completely.
A special thanks to Margie. Her comment is the one that really pushed me to figure out what to do with this whole 'thon business...I know, I know...Shut up and run already, Barb. And RunnerGirl...you rock...and not just because you share my fine appreciation for carrot cake...thanks for the e-mails and the blog, it meant a lot...
Seriously...you all are infinitely awesome...
Okay...now that that drama is cleared up and we're all on the same page...here is your long overdue ORN...(obligatory running note...or novel in my case)...
Saturday's 12 miler was less than pleasant.
The first 5 and a half miles were great. Brilliant actually. I'm talking consecutive sub 11:30 miles...it was beautiful. Seriously...it would've brought a tear of pride to your eye...I was a gazelle...a Kenyan in fact...long, strong strides...swift on my feet...the feeling of flying...I don't want to jinx myself by saying it...but...
...it's arguably the closest I've ever come to a runners high...
And then mile six happened. As did seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven and then finally twelve.
The back half was uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugly. So ugly, in fact, that my total final time was about 5 minutes less than my half marathon (see...told ya it was ugly).
I've clearly had a lot weighing on my mind lately. All the weight from my thoughts transferred to my feet...and my legs became VERY heavy. I'm not sure if it was because I was upset with myself that the first half of my run was great...and then as my mind cleared, the run went downhill.
Maybe I do need to "get angry" to run...? Hmmm...I'll have to look into that...
I was so frustrated that I went out of my way to avoid my friend Jurgita on the running path. She runs with a CARA pace group...so I went out of my way THREE TIMES to remain invisible (Jurgita, if you're reading this...my apologies sweetums, I was worried about a mid-run breakdown and I didn't want to put that on you). My plan to remain invisible didn't work too well, because apparently Missy and I crossed paths over the north avenue bridge...I didn't see her though...she later mentioned she saw me with my headphones on...likely during a quick walk break. Thankfully, she ran on.
It was shortly after this point that it all came crashing down. My piriformis was screaming every explative in the book at me and I just couldn't move my body fast enough. Fire ensued my cute lil behind with each step. No idea what my pace dropped to around this point...I'd rather not know.
The wind quickly became a problem as the path opened up right on the lake by Oak Street Beach. Waves came crashing up onto the concrete...christening my shoes at one point. I ran into Jim, a guy from our building, out for a morning run...and before I knew it I was headed back north.
I won't go into details about getting caught in the middle of the 5k Lung Run...or how there was some insane swim race going on at Ohio Street Beach...or even how a police horse on the running path left multiple presents for later runners (yeah...eww on dodging all that crap)...but as I sat down on the bench at the end of my very emotional run...I wanted to do nothing else other than go home, shower, eat a cheese danish and go running again...
...and while I want to go running...I haven't gone since.
I've been taking it easy this week for the sake of my cute lil' behind...I really don't want to tick off my piriformis before the 18-miler. R&R for my body, my mind and my soul were all in order.
Slowly, my head and my heart are aligning themselves once again with this whole running business. Like Rae, I've determine that while I love the marathon...I just dread the training that goes with it.
On October 22, I have no doubt in my mind that I'll be anxiously toeing the line with a smile on my face, excitement overwhelming my body and a prayer in my heart that all goes well and Mike and I cross the finish line injury-free...
...and maybe, just maybe, the marathon Gods will smile back at me and give me a 5:30. And if they don't...I'm okay with that...because my heart is there for the experience...for the cause...and to do something that once upon a time I never thought was possible...
...and that, my friends, is the beauty of the marathon.
A special thanks to Margie. Her comment is the one that really pushed me to figure out what to do with this whole 'thon business...I know, I know...Shut up and run already, Barb. And RunnerGirl...you rock...and not just because you share my fine appreciation for carrot cake...thanks for the e-mails and the blog, it meant a lot...
Seriously...you all are infinitely awesome...
Okay...now that that drama is cleared up and we're all on the same page...here is your long overdue ORN...(obligatory running note...or novel in my case)...
Saturday's 12 miler was less than pleasant.
The first 5 and a half miles were great. Brilliant actually. I'm talking consecutive sub 11:30 miles...it was beautiful. Seriously...it would've brought a tear of pride to your eye...I was a gazelle...a Kenyan in fact...long, strong strides...swift on my feet...the feeling of flying...I don't want to jinx myself by saying it...but...
...it's arguably the closest I've ever come to a runners high...
And then mile six happened. As did seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven and then finally twelve.
The back half was uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugly. So ugly, in fact, that my total final time was about 5 minutes less than my half marathon (see...told ya it was ugly).
I've clearly had a lot weighing on my mind lately. All the weight from my thoughts transferred to my feet...and my legs became VERY heavy. I'm not sure if it was because I was upset with myself that the first half of my run was great...and then as my mind cleared, the run went downhill.
Maybe I do need to "get angry" to run...? Hmmm...I'll have to look into that...
I was so frustrated that I went out of my way to avoid my friend Jurgita on the running path. She runs with a CARA pace group...so I went out of my way THREE TIMES to remain invisible (Jurgita, if you're reading this...my apologies sweetums, I was worried about a mid-run breakdown and I didn't want to put that on you). My plan to remain invisible didn't work too well, because apparently Missy and I crossed paths over the north avenue bridge...I didn't see her though...she later mentioned she saw me with my headphones on...likely during a quick walk break. Thankfully, she ran on.
It was shortly after this point that it all came crashing down. My piriformis was screaming every explative in the book at me and I just couldn't move my body fast enough. Fire ensued my cute lil behind with each step. No idea what my pace dropped to around this point...I'd rather not know.
The wind quickly became a problem as the path opened up right on the lake by Oak Street Beach. Waves came crashing up onto the concrete...christening my shoes at one point. I ran into Jim, a guy from our building, out for a morning run...and before I knew it I was headed back north.
I won't go into details about getting caught in the middle of the 5k Lung Run...or how there was some insane swim race going on at Ohio Street Beach...or even how a police horse on the running path left multiple presents for later runners (yeah...eww on dodging all that crap)...but as I sat down on the bench at the end of my very emotional run...I wanted to do nothing else other than go home, shower, eat a cheese danish and go running again...
...and while I want to go running...I haven't gone since.
I've been taking it easy this week for the sake of my cute lil' behind...I really don't want to tick off my piriformis before the 18-miler. R&R for my body, my mind and my soul were all in order.
Slowly, my head and my heart are aligning themselves once again with this whole running business. Like Rae, I've determine that while I love the marathon...I just dread the training that goes with it.
On October 22, I have no doubt in my mind that I'll be anxiously toeing the line with a smile on my face, excitement overwhelming my body and a prayer in my heart that all goes well and Mike and I cross the finish line injury-free...
...and maybe, just maybe, the marathon Gods will smile back at me and give me a 5:30. And if they don't...I'm okay with that...because my heart is there for the experience...for the cause...and to do something that once upon a time I never thought was possible...
...and that, my friends, is the beauty of the marathon.
posted by Iron Jayhawk at 1:01 PM
15 Camper Comments:
I had some chronic piriformis achiness earlier this year, and found that the best thing for it is to sit on a tennis ball. No, seriously: get a tennis ball, set it on the floor, then put the achy spot of your butt on it and roll it around. Repeat on the other side, then follow up with some stretching. It hurts like a bitch, but it really helps get it loosened up like nothing else can.
Well, I'm glad to hear you are going to run. I'll pray that the gods smile on you and Mike both.
Get some well deserved rest. I know we could all use some right about now.
You are so awesome! I am glad your not giving in on your goals. That in itself is success.
I have no clue what a piriformis is (am I the only Rbf-er who isn't in the med field or married to someone who is???) but I hope it's doing better. And I hope you kick ass this weekend. Remember we're all out there with you no matter WHAT happens, during my toughest of times I draw on all the inspiration I find on the blogs. For this week it's all the Ironman Wisconsin stories I've read. Hell, a marathon is just dessert in that race!!!!
OH, and I liked the team name. =)
I am SO excited about that race!
I'm so glad to hear that you have decided to run! I was beginning to think that I was going to have to drive my butt to Chicago and drag you along the course. :) Seriously, all weekend I've been thinking to myself, "How much of the marathon could I run? I haven't run in 2 months, but if my ankle's ok in a another week or so, and I bust my ass, could I run half of it while dragging Barb along, and then con her into finishing? I hope the rest of your training goes nice and smooth! If anyone deserves an easy last 6 weeks it's you!
Everyone has a crappy run every now and again. It's good to hear that your doing Chicago.
Glad to hear you'll be out there on the 22nd with me!
Hang in there, Barb. You can do it!! We have done it once...and once again! Put some ice and heat on the piriformus area - along with an awesome massage too to loosen the muscles up. And get Mike to work on that area too.
Hang in there!
I know exactly how you feel. I've been dealing with patellofemoral dysfunction for the past week, and it's been ugly. I even doubted my own ability to do Chicago.
I know that I can get through this, and by being smart and safe and well-trained, I will.
We'll run this race together. :)
Go Barb! Glad to hear you got your head out of your piriformis; we all find it there sometimes.
Going slloooooow might just be what the thon gods require of you for right now. You are welcome to run 18 with Molly, Lisa and me this Saturday. We start at 6 a.m. and will be doing 5/2s, nice and easy.
You ran your 12 miles.
You ran, dispite heavy legs and fire butt.
I definitely want to buy you and Mike a drink after the big race.
Good choices make good times. Maybe your Kenyan blood will kick in.
Somebody told me that when you're out there, you've already beaten the millions that aren't.
Glad you have cleared your head and made a decision. Anyway, with the new Big Bird shoes, what else could you do.
Hang in there Barb!
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