Put that in your pipe and SMOKE IT.

BOO YAH.

THAT, my friends...was the run I needed. Needed desperately. Especially since being told my foot is in piss poor shape.

Okay...well...the run wasn't all sunshine and rainbows and kitties...

The first ten miles. Well. They were hella tough. Hella bad. To the point where I was about to gnaw my own foot off because it hurt so.freaking.bad. OMG. It was awful. I questioned if I'd be able to make it back to home base and finish the distance at 17. I questioned turning around and going back to Jack at the 8.5 mile turn around and hitching a ride back with him. I questioned hailing a cab. I questioned running on 10/22. I questioned if I'd ever run again after today. It was that bad.

I saw Coach Joe close to Castaways and he comes running to me...asks how I'm doing and then remembers that i'm the one with the extra bone in her foot. He helps me adjust my foot brace, listens to me whine and bitch for a few and tells me to just do it.

And so I did.

I told myself to just shut...the f*ck...up. Quite whining already!

Just run.

Shut up and run, Barb. That's all you have to do.

Shut the hell up and put one foot in front of the other...

This quickly became my mantra. It's all mind over body. Shut up and run.

I fed off of other runners. I'd play cat and mouse with people along the course...I'd run and catch up to them...taper off with a quick break...and then catch up to them again...

I'd trail on the end of the CARA running groups, even some that were too fast for me...god love the wonderfully kind folks in the 11:30 pacers. They were a godsend to me when I really needed them. They started running past me and everyone was asking if I was okay. Their pace seemed to be something that I could keep up, so I tacked myself on the end of their line and ran next to this nice woman for the next mile or so.

It was like out of nowhere I was given an entirely new pair of legs!

I had this insane energy...It didn't hurt like it did the first half. I didn't focus on my foot...it was all about moving the ground out from under my feet.

I pushed myself against this one runner...and in turn, she pushed herself against me. We fed our momentum to each other...and soaked the other's in. When she wrapped up her run...she smiled, gave me a high five and we exchanged thank yous! More proof that runners are, by far, some of the coolest cats around.

And before I knew it...I had covered 17 miles. I felt great. My form was strong...my body was feeling incredible...I gave Mike a kiss (he had already finished 20) and made my way north for the last 3 miles.

So I'm running along...feeling great...loving running...feeling like I could go on and on and on...which never happens to me. EVER. Especially after 17 miles.

And I run across Barri. This super cute, super awesome, super funny teammate of mine. Seriously...she rocks. She's walking along having some reeeeeeeeeeeeeally bad knee issues. As I pass her, she tries to catch up with me. Once she does we stop and walk a little bit together.

We're talking and laughing the last few miles. I'm able to get her run another few dozen yards and we decide it's best for her to walk back the rest of the way. And as much as I wanted to run, I knew how much it can suck to be unable to run, especially when you're soooo close to being done...and so I walked with her back to the meet up point.

Once we returned (to a huge, fabulous feast of food, no less!!) I honestly felt like I could go another three or four miles...and MAYBE...just MAYBE...another 6.2.

This 20 felt nothing like my last 20. Last time I came home and cried. But not today!!! :) Last time 20 miles took me...hmmm just under 5 hours? Today I ended up pacing around 13:10/mi. Which is an approximated guess (at one point after adjusting my brace I forgot to turn my garmin back on, so I'm overestimating my "off time")...in theory, it could be a little over 13:00/mi...who knows.

I know this pace isn't what I needed to achieve my elusive 5:30. But it's enough to put me in at 5:45. And this pace includes a few stretch breaks and adjusting that damn foot brace a couple of times. ...so who knows what Oct. 22nd will bring...

...effective immediately. We taper.

And all I have to say at this point, is...

Feet...don't fail me now.

Weekly Update.

What a week it has been!

My birthday was a wonderful whirlwind...we ate at Carnivale, Mike got my a ridiculous amoung of stuff (AWESOME stuff, mind you--he really outdid himself!) and then our big screen TV came so the past few days have been comprised of shuffling EVERYTHING in our condo around.
Good times.

I won't even hit upon work right now, cause well...it's work. And work STINKS! BOO!

Soooooo...tomorrow is the big run. The long mamma jamma. The last scary distance before 10/22. The 20.

Mentally...I'm sooo ready for it. Or maybe I'm just ready for it to be over? Physically? I've had to back off for a while because of my foot...but last time around I did 20 having missed the 18 b/c of back problems. So I know I can just rock the run if I put my mind to it. ...key word: IF.

The good news? My foot is feeling oodles better thanks to this little brace.


It's a bit weird to wear all day (and I have only been wearing my running shoes to work this week) but it really does make a difference. Hopefully it doesn't chaff my foot to shreds during tomorrow's run. There's no way I'll be able to run without it. I'm still debating whether or not to use it over or under the sock. And I've got plenty of body glide just waiting to be caked on.

My motto tomorrow: MIND OVER BODY. I know I can do the distance...it's just a matter of making myself believe that I can once I'm out there. Just get lost in the miles, one foot in front of the other and it'll be over before I know it.

We'll see how it goes. Although it is a bit on the chilly side here in Chicago. I think I might need to bust out a long sleeve tech for the occassion.

And mark your calendar...Rae's birthday is on Sunday...so be sure to stop by and with my fellow Libra a rockin' birthday! :D

Happy Friday, everyone!!

The gift.

So...as you know...today is my birthday. I'm 21+4....26-1...I'm 24 again...you do the math.

It's been a relatively good day so far. It's beautiful weather here in Chicago (for once!)...it's cool, breezy and the sun is shining! At midnight my hubby surprised me with a birthday gift (the 1920 Kansas Jayhawk ornament that I've been wanting to add to our collection) and again this morning...I received a set of foam stamps for the wedding scrapbook which I have yet to start (I'm waiting until I get all the supplies I need to make it look perfect). And then....he even drove me to work! Aww... :) So it's been a very good day so far. Five gold stars for Mike!

My hubby's gifts are fabulous (and rumor has it there is more to come), but now...I want to tell you about a gift my mum gave me...ooooh about 25 years ago.

No. I'm not talking about the gift of life...though that would be appropriate, now wouldn't it.

I'm talking about the gift of bone.

Yes. She gave me a bone. Many bones in my body, in fact. However...one bone in particular...

...an extra bone.

...an extra little bone wedged on the outside part of my left foot...right where all the tendons from your ankle to your foot come together.

Isn't that sweet?! In case the other jillion bones in my feet weren't enough...my mum was so thoughtful to give me just one more! Perhaps with the intent that some other ones might fail down the line...she must love me that much more to give me an extra bone.

That's right campers...yours truly, is officially a freak of nature. I have a tiny extra bone in my foot...and that stupid little itty bitty piece of a bone is the culprit of the severe pain I have been dealing with the past 10 days. A pain that is called Peroneal Tendonitis.

I am not amused.

So this bone...the peroneal bone, they call it...is found in less than 2% of the world population. Lucky, lucky me. I'm sure the remaining 2% is comprised of carnie folk and scripps national spelling bee winners. I'm in good company.

Doctor Vora is pretty cool...he's poking and proding at my foot and we took some pretty pictures of my foot...(read as: X-Rays.)

Here's the verdict...

You've got what we call paroneal tendonitis. As you know, it really sucks. What's happening is the tendons on the outside of your foot are rubbing against this bone. I think you might have the start of a small acute tear, but it's too early to tell. The Doctor in me is going to tell you to stop running, put you in a boot, and get you off that foot. You can run the marathon next year.

However, I know marathon runners...so I'm going to be real with you on this one. Take it easy. Keep on running at what is comfortable and just don't let yourself be in too much pain. Lets see how this goes. If you wake up marathon morning and you're in a great deal of pain. Don't run. Or show up to the start line, just don't kill yourself.

So yeah. I wasn't told NOT to run...but he's not exactly condoning the marathon either. He knows that I'll run regardless of what he says, so he wants to make sure that I'm just smart about it.

Post-marathon, I'll likely end up in a super sexy, highly fashionable boot and have ultrasound on the tendons. If the pain keeps increasing, it'll be likely that it is tearing...and I know I'll have to cease running until things are back in check. Worst case scenario: time surgery to remove that pesky little bone...though this is VERY unlikely.

So there you have it...Peroneal Tendonitis...Barb's a freak...and October 22nd will be mine for the taking (clearly, I am not going to make 5:30 under such conditions, but whatev). I am just relieved that it's tendonitis and not a fracture!!! Woohoo!!!

Let's celebrate!

Short and Sweet.

So I had all sorts of long, humorous in only a barb kind of way stories to share with you kids from the past few days...but honestly, I just don't have the energy.

So in lieu of the traditional "this shit could only happen to barb" nonsense...here is the short, sweet, abridged version of my past few days...

Friday.
The "revolving door of suckitude" at work (yes Josh, I stole your line)...work is been nothing less than insane with this merger...and if my office was PeeWee's Playhouse, the secret word would always be DRAMA. Sadly, Stephanie's flight was cancelled because the entire chicagoland area was under Tornado Watch. I had a good ole laugh at what the city called "emergency sirens"--Sorry...I lived in Kansas for 6 years...trust me, I knooooow what tornado sirens should sound like. I come home in a foul mood. Have dinner in a foul mood. And go to bed in a foul mood. Luckily, no tornados hit the loop...and my office was left in one piece...

Surprisingly, I don't wake up in a foul mood.

Saturday.
Up at 5:45. Get dressed. Eat. Take the dog out...and we're ready to go running. I'm all pumped, yet cautious of my foot...but to hell with that...it's just pain...I can run through it. And then it happens. Our car keys have mysteriously disappeared to the land where all the missing left socks and remote controls go. They were gone. Completely...totally...utterly...M-I-A. We tear the place apart...and they're no where to be found. I keep eyeing the clock and as it draws closer and closer to 7am...I grow more and more annoyed and bummed that we're not making the team run. Now, Mike will tell you we lost the keys. The truth in the matter is he lost them...only to be found about 10 hours later in a little black bag that we keep our laundry change in.

...I'm not even going to try to explain that one.

So we end up running from home to the lakefront and then on the path. Scheduled 12. I make it to about 7 and I'm dying. But I'm so far from home I have no other choice than to just suck it up and hobble my ass back. I was not amused (in case the watery eyes didn't give that away). I end up doing just under 10 on the running path and then you figure 1.5 miles to and from the path...close enough to 12 for me. We get home...and I find out the coaches cut the run back to 8. ...which would've saved my foot from the abundance of obnoxious pain.

We ice. We shower. We eat. We ride the coach. We clean. We bicker. We go halloween shopping. I hobble. And we ride the couch some more.

Sunday.
The highlight of my weekend. Leah's birthday. I went with the intent of having 2...maybe 3 drinks. Well...lil' miss birthday girl kept convincing the waitress that I needed more and more drinks. At one point, I had three cans of Bud Select in my posession...all of which were full. I ended up with a fabulously rockin' buzz. Came home. Rode the couch. Took a nap (and apparently snored). Then watched some TLC...quality programming included "My Husband's Three Wives" and "Traveling the Country with 16 Children" -- Yes. You read that right. SIXTEEN KIDS.

Monday.
Wake up. Step on floor. Bite tongue and grit through the excrutiating pain to avoid waking Mike up. Limp to shower. Get dolled up. Limp to work. Twas a blah day...with lots of blahness intertwined. Limped home. Helped Mike with his business plan. And that basically brings us up to the moment.

...the moment where I am less than 2 hours away from having a birthday. The birthday in which I will turn 24 for a second time. I've been assured time and time again that turning 25 is great...but frankly...I'm digging being 24. It was a relatively good year. Lots of cool shit happened at 24. But my mom...my mom continues to remind me that I'm turning 30-5. If I have to accept any term...I will take 24+1. Thank you, kindly.

I guess the thing that is weighing most on my mind is this dr. appt tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to it whatsoever. I'm dreading that he'll tell me not to run the marathon. Mike is pretty sure that's what I'll end up hearing. I'm not sure what to think.

I know I have the option to listen to doctor's orders. In Phoenix, I said "to hell with you" and ran despite the fact they thought I'd need an IV by mile 8. Now...I'm not so sure. You kinda need your feet to get you around. And I know how badly your feet are hurting come mile 21. I'm not sure what my body can and can't handle in terms of the threshold of foot pain.

But I guess I have plenty of time to think about that...now don't I? Perhaps my taper has already begun? I just wish that I had a 20 miler under my belt already. :sigh:

We'll see what tomorrow brings...

...in t-minus 1 hour and 43 minutes.

Heh...guess that wasn't so short and sweet afterall. Whoops.

Update.

Okay...so the PT at Athletico, bless her lil' heart, was clearly new, clearly clueless and clearly not confident with examining me. But I can empathize with her...I can't imagine being in patient care and being that nervous my first few days on the job.

BUT ANYWAY...long story short...

They're not quite sure what's going on with my foot. Could be a hairline fracture. Could be a sprain. Could be aliens invading my feet for all they know.

Hopefully Dr. Vora will have a better diagnosis for me. They gave me a referral appointment scheduled for Tuesday afternoon. The 26th. My birthday (where I am turning 24 for the 2nd time...I'm in denial about being 25...).

He best not be giving me bad news on my birthday.

I will be SERIOUSLY PISSED.

Come on...what asshat would deliver super sucky news to a cute, sweet lil' girl on her second 24th birthday?!? I mean...really..........

So I'm going into this with positive vibes!

The good news is, is that it isn't hurting nearly as much as it has been. I'm no longer limping!! PROGRESS!! (finally.)

I'm going to try running this weekend. Stephanie from over at Onward Bound is coming to town and will be training with us...should be a good time :) I can't wait to have a pukin' pace pal...minus the puke (deal, Steph?). Today is her birthday, by the way...go and send her some love!

In other news...we ran into Jason and Leah the other night at the Container Store. Good times. :) It's fun running into random RBFers out and about. Nicole and I even ran into Whitney at the Fleet Feet during the Through the Wall session...

Things that make you go hrmmmmm...

Since Saturday's long run, I've had this truly peculiar pain making camp in my left foot. It started as some minor soreness and discomfort after the run, not once did it hurt during my 18 to my surprise.

At first, I was concerned about Plantar Fascitis...but then I came to realize that that pain is in your heel and your arch. My pain is on the outside of my foot, toward the back by the heel, but definitely NOT in/on the heel.

Hrmm...?

Then I was thinking...ooooh, this is just a phantom pain...it's nothing, really...it's not a concern...a little ice...a little massaging...and I'll be perfectly fine.

Ice and massage...while it felt good, it certainly was not the needed remedy.

Hrmmmmmm...?

But now, with each passing day...with each step...I've come to grips that this certainly is not a phantom pain. It's a painful pain...the kind of pain where you become concerned about running...

And we all know that is bad news bears.

...So, my super rockstar hubby of a husband took a look at it (for those of you who don't know he's close to receiving his D.C.--doctor of chiropractic). He's been absolutely fabulous and doing some adjustments on my poor lil' footsie...which I truly appreciate considering how much he loathes touching feet.

It appears that one of the bones in my feet is raised higher than it should be, forcing me to overcompensation when I walk, bringing on the pain...

Hrmmmmmmmmmmm...

So clearly, being incapable of walking without pain (let alone run!), is a problem...especially with the marathon only 32 days away (insert "OH SHIT" moment). As I got out of the car this morning, Mike suggested I pay my buddies over at AthletiCo a visit.

So campers, tomorrow morning at 8am, Tina is going to take a lil' looksie at my foot (which, for the record, is grosser than gross...I hate feet!)...and in a perfect world, she'll say "it's nothing!! you can run! you can keep on running forever and ever and ever...past the kenyans! past Kastor and Karnazes and all those other fast mofo's!"

Hrmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...

Or not.

But...here's to hoping...right?

I'm at the point where as long as they say I can run, I'm happy. Even if I have to miss the 20-miler...while not ideal, I know it'd still be doable. Rough, but doable.

Just cross all of your crossables that this is really nothing but a minor nothing and that I'll be back and ready to go for Saturday's 12-miler...injury-free.

In other news, information on the RBF 27th Mile Celebration (post-race gathering) with be coming out soon! I'm putting together an evite to help keep track of the information, so please either leave your e-mail address or contact me at BarbsMarathon@gmail.com to be included.

Peace, yo!
Barbara

Pennies from Heaven...

i found a penny today
just laying on the ground
but it's not just a penny
this little coin i've found

found pennies are from heaven
that's what my grandpa told me,
he said "angels toss them down."
oh, how i loved that story

he said, "when an angel misses you
they toss a penny down,
sometimes just to cheer you up
to make a smile out of your frown."

so don't pass by that penny
when you're feeling blue,
it may be a penny from heaven
that an angel tossed to you.

-Charles Mashburn

I should start this post by sharing with you that on Wednesday afternoon, a few moments after I last posted about my decision to suck it up and run the marathon, I learned that my TNT patient honoree, Keegan Grant had passed away. Keegan may have only been eight years old, but he truly was the heart, soul and spirit of our team.

I remember last year when I first started training with Team in Training, he would attend all the group runs that he could to cheer everyone, including his parents, on. He and his brother would help pass out water, offer high-fives, and be the first to say "good job" whenever we made it back to our starting point...always with his electric smile. That child had a smile that could light up the darkest room.

Today, when we arrived at training, everyone received a penny. Now this is certainly not normal tradition for our team, so we patiently (and puzzledly?) awaited to learn its purpose...

First Barbara F., mentor captain of the north team, gave the mission moment: A Tale of Two Mothers. She spoke of how 12 years ago her son Kevin was diagnosed with Leukemia. How it took a while to find a marrow donor and once they did, how there was less than a 20% chance of survival after the transplant. Her son Kevin survived and she is beyond thankful that she has had 12 more years of photos, of laughter and memories.

Then she spoke of Mimi's story. How her son Keegan was diagnosed with Leukemia a few days after his sixth birthday...and how he was a fighter and after a year of searching for a bone marrow donor, they finally found one in early August. We sent Keegan off with a cautious fanfare...hoping for the best.

This morning, while we were running, Doug and Mimi laid Keegan to rest. I couldn't get his family out of my mind the entire 18 miles.

Coach Chris told us the story of Pennies from Heaven. Of how they come from Angels who miss us. He told us to hold the penny tight and draw energy from it...and that during our run, he asked us to send that penny right back up to Heaven...back to Keegan...

I held onto my penny for a good mile before letting it go. I ran in silence...no iPod, no chatting...just me and my thoughts...thoughts of his family...

And somewhere, along the golf course, I said a wish for Keegan's family and released the penny next to a tree.

The first fourteen and a half miles of my run went well. My legs, for the most part, felt strong. I saw so many familiar faces out there...Lisa, Missy, Jurgita, Tracy and Erin. It was nice to be on the path in good company.

When I was returning back to the meet up point before heading out for the final three miles, my feet were hurting...my pirifomis was killing me...and my lower back was screaming at me to stop...during a walk break, just when I didn't think I could put my foot in front of me anymore, the sunlight reflected on something on the ground...

...a penny...

...and of course, my eyes started to welt up with tears and I just thought about Mimi and her family celebrating Keegan's life and how their hearts must be aching right now.

I gritted my teeth...put my head down...and pushed through. No matter how much pain I was in, it paled in comparison. And even though those last few miles were mostly walked...each step reminded me of my purpose with my committment to this marathon.

Everything was poised to make this a terrible run. I couldn't find my new running shoes (they're still MIA)...I accidentally doused gatorade over my head instead of water when trying to cool off...the sun was just, ugh--too hot...I got stopped for 10 minutes at Wacker St. b/c the bridge over the river was raising to let boats through...and my nutrition the past 48 hours was definitely lacking. And even with the cards stacked against me, Keegan helped pull me through. He was there through every last mile.

On October 22nd, 2006, I will run for Keegan...and for the hope of a cure so that no other mother has to lay their child to rest from one of these horrible cancers.

If you find any pennies from Heaven and want to send them Keegan's way...you can do so here.

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.

To 'thon or not to 'thon? That is the question.

I've been putting a lot of thought into my running lately.

...and I'm going to be honest with you guys. I'm not sure I'm going to be ready for this marathon. Physcially ready? Probably...I can deal with the pain. But mentally ready? Who the hell knows.

The 16 was awful. Awful being an understatement. And then I missed last weekend's 10-miler. I just flat out didn't do it...Ehhh...should I run? Nope! I've got nip/tuck to watch...I've had so much weighing on my mind lately and with all the stress from work, I couldn't bring myself to even lace up my new shoes during the long weekend. Some runner I am, eh? The intention was there...but the motivation wasn't. And so we have 12 this Saturday, which I'm sure will be fine. But still...

I...just...I just don't know anymore.

If I run Chicago...I'm not sure I'm going to do much better than I did before. Sure, you optimists will be all "but it's still improvement" and "you can do it!" and "it's still a great feat no matter what your time is." And that's all fine and dandy...

But i know that 5:30 is too elusive for me. And I know I don't have it in my heart to really attack the asphault and just go for it. It's like I've run out of fuel...

A friend quoted Yoda to me recently..."Do or do not. There is no try."

I'm stuck in the "try" mindset like a fly in a vat of honey. I need to move over to the "Do" side. But I'm having one hell of a time getting myself to it. Having no energy is a big part of it...

Yes, I know I can revisit my marathon goals and change target times and have an infinite number of back up plans just to get it done. A DNF, however, is not an option in my mind. If i'm out there, I'll crawl and claw my way to the end with bloody wrists and kneeds and ankles. I know I'll make it happen (remember how pre-race in Phoenix they said I'd need an IV because I was throwing up?...yah, I don't think so, fuck that I'm running anyway). That doesn't necessarily mean I'll be happy with the performance at the end of the day. I know that once I'm on the carousel I'm completely capable of reaching up there and grabbing that ring, no matter how difficult it may be. I'm just waivering on whether or not I even want to get on the ride.

And of course, this post...this mindset...makes me feel like a disappointment. To my wonderful mentees who have made so much progress over the past few months...to myself...to my family...to mike...and of course, to you guys, my dear RBF who I have so much respect and admiration for. You really are family (and I thank you for that).

...but now I'm not sure if I'm thinking about not running because I can't...or not wanting to. I think I'm just scared. Scared of what's going to happen...

In so many ways, the marathon is a metaphor for life. When the gun goes off, it's a race to the finish. And I simply don't want to race...

Right now, I'm just a broken jayhawk.

I'm sure I'll bounce back. All in due time, right? Do most folks hit bottom like this during training? I've just never had so much self-doubt...

Anthem of the day: Numb. By U2.

Happy Runniversary!

Well...today marks my 1-year Runniversary. It's strange to think that just one year ago I laced up my pair of new balances and went out for a walk/run for the first time. So in honor of my Runniversary...I went out and ran in my new Mizunos (oh yes...Big Bird--I just feel ridiculous stating that in public). I left the iPod and the Garmin at home and I just ran with my thoughts...I had no idea where to or when I'd turn around. I just put one foot in front of the other.

Turns out I ran 4.8 miles along the path along with an additional 1.5 through the city (first .75 was a run/walk, the return home .75 was walked because my piriformis and tailbone were KILLING ME).

While out there, I thought about how I started out running a mile just over 14 minutes. Now I've clocked an 11 minute timed mile. I've shaved over 3 minutes on my 5k time. I've gone from never having run a mile since high school to finishing a marathon. I'm on my fourth pair of shoes. I can't imagine how many packets of Gu I've sucked down. My blood pressure has dropped dramatically. And I don't think I own any more than 4 pairs of regular white cotton socks (hooray for Wigwam).

Running does strange to ones self. For me it's been a love hate relationship. I won't lie. Most days, I hate running. But once I'm out there, I absolutely love it (...eeehhhhhhh...usually, not always).

So here you have it folks, things I've learned about running...and myself...over the past year...
I suck at running. And I'm okay with that. But 365 days later I'm still putting one foot in front of the other and that's what matters, right?

Just because I ran 16 miles I am not entitled to indulge in copious amounts of pizza, ice cream, beer, chocolate, mac & cheese, McDonalds, carrot cake (OH GAWD, Do I looooooooooove Carrot Cake!!!!!!), chicken fingers, bagel sandwiches and root beer floats. Because I can and I'm scheduled to run that distance, I should really focus more on eating healthier...

No matter how much I run...I still need to shed at least 2 dozen pounds off of my chunky self. Bah! I guess I should work on the aforementioned dietary lesson? And how the hell did I gain weight during my first marathon?! Seriously. That wasn't anywhere in the fine print. And don't go tellin' me that it's all muscle...I'm not that dumb.

Forget about the competition...running is a solo sport. The only competitor is myself. Some days I win...and others I lose.

Good runners = part genetics, part raw talent, part heart and part determination. Just because I only have 50% of this doesn't mean I'm not "good"...and I'm not talking about my chromosomes of 'Pre' tendencies...cause that's certainly not in my cards (and yes...I know I said I sucked at running earlier...but you can be sucky and good at the same time...oh yes, you can!!)

The best part about running is that all you have to do is keep putting one foot in front of the other...you eventually have to hit your destination, whether you like it or not.

It's not so bad at the back of the pack. Someone's gotta be there...why not me? I prefer to take my time and enjoy the scenery on my runs. Nothing wrong with that!

I've still not yet experienced that "runners high" that everyone brags so much about. :sigh: One day....

You can be a runner and not have anything remotely close to a runner's body.

I may not cross the finish line first...but I've certainly won the race.

So...Happy Runniversary to me!!

Chicago Marathon RBF Meet-Up...

Okay campers...

In order to adequately find a locale to host ALL of us for the RBF post-thon meet-up...we first have to figure out just how many folks will be in tow.

Sooo....we need numbers. The restaurant we're talking to is trying to determine if the space is available to accommodate 25+ runners and their posse of family/friends/spouses/mistresses/dog walkers/etc. etc.

So....if you're planning on running Chicago and attending the post-run RBF gathering...please let me or LeahC know as soon as possible! You can either reply here or send an e-mail to BarbsMarathon AT gmail.com -- please provide an e-mail address for future updates as well as how many folks will be joining you (family and friends are welcome).

Also...if you're planning on running Chicago...be a doll and link this to your blog so we can get all our ducks in a row.

Food details will be available soon...it might be an all you can eat ordeal...or it may just be order what you like from the menu. We're trying to get an optional bar package in place...cause well...we'll all likely need something to numb out the aches and pains. :)

Mark your calendars, kids...

RBF Post-Run Celebration!
Sunday, October 22nd!!
Start Time: 5:30ish (might move by 30 minutes depending on room available)

Stay tuned for more details...in the meantime, please go ahead and RSVP if you're able to make it!