Eight is Great!

So after nearly two and a half weeks of totally crappy runs where I decided running was for the birds, my confidence was...well...deflated, to say the least. Since the runs were so craptacular...I just opted not to run. And I'm starting to think that it was a brilliant idea.

Last night Coach Leah & Jason came over, along with Mouse, for a run. "10 miles!!" they said in their lets get excited to run kind of way. Leah's wannabe cheerleader side was coming out (though she'll vehemently deny it...) and trying to get us pumped up for the distance.

I laughed.

I knew I'd be good for 5...maybe 6. No way was 10 happening...I was not about to let myself have an agonizing 10 mile misery run with that annoying leg pain shooting with every stride.

And somewhere between walking from the condo to the lakefront...I decided on 8. It wasn't so much a short run...but it wasn't a long run either...and it certainly wasn't a scary double digit number.

And so, to the lakefront we went...and sent the fast kids on their way. Mouse hung back with me as part of her "pre-training training" where she gets to run slow with one of the coolest kids around (that's me in case you didn't know).

Miles slowly ticked by...we walked a few times to help me work out the never-ending, obnoxiously painful side stitches (sunuvabeeeyotch) and for a 2 quick stops for water. We did relatively well staying within my target pace range (11:58-12:58) so I can't complain. We had 2 miles just above 13:00 but those incorporated walking breaks.

And then we had...what she calls a "fun mile." Which, as you may guess...isn't so much fun. It's one of those miles you do at the very end...where...well...you just go balls to the wall.

I.wanted.to.die.

And I'm pretty sure she didn't hear me, but I was totally cursing her under my breath.

It ended up being more fartlek-esque than anything because I'd be going all super fast (fast for me, that is) and then I'd be begging to walk...but she pulled me through it for an 10:09 mile. Had I not been so weenie-ish, I could've easily broken 10. Next time, I suppose...

Overall average pace for the 8 was 12:21.

Turns out it really is for the birds...considering I'm a Jayhawk and all. The eight was great. Not too little...not too much...but juuuuuuuuuust enough.

Tonight we've got plans to hit the bike path again, headed south for a nice lil' jaunt through the city...and other than that there's not too much going on. Just trying to enjoy the calm before the storm that is the month of July.

We have 12 miles with the TEAM on the calendar Saturday morning. Haven't gone that far since our ill-fated, "yak-free in Tennessee" half marathon back in April. Should be interesting!

My first triathlon is in 8 days. And surprisingly...I'm not nervous...hmm...I guess I should clarify and say not yet at least. I still have yet to have an open water swim. We were supposed to go on Wednesday night, but mother nature quickly foiled those plans with a nice brilliant lightning and thunder storm. I think the plan is to hit the lake on Sunday sometime. Ideally I'd like to make it a brick. We'll see how that goes over.

An update on stress...I'm paying more attention to how stress is affecting my personal life. Holy cow. But more on that some other time. And I will comment that Tuesday was arguably one of the best days I've had in a really long time. Positive conversations were had...$2 gourmet burgers were devoured...and sleep was solid. Twas a day for celebration. But more on that later.

In the meantime, I am quite optimistic that things will be changing for the better...perhaps sooner rather than later...

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand...you'd be proud...I've left the office everyday this week before 5:30. This never happens.

Joyride.

So today...for the first time in a really long time...I left the office at 5 (nevermind the fact I was there at 8:20)...I don't really remember the last time that happened. I'm quite pleased with myself actually. I didn't feel guilty about it either...it's just work...it'll still be there tomorrow morning (it's not like we're curing cancer here in the world of advertising, folks). But ya know...it felt reeeeeeeally good. The past few weeks I haven't been out of there until 6:30 at the earliest, and that's on a "good day." But...more on that some other time...

Sooooo yeah...

Lots-o-stuff has been going on over here...a handful of craptacular runs where I wanted to swear off running for the rest of my life...random leg pain which has finally subsided...saw Barenaked Ladies last week and got to hang out with Ryan and his wife (love these two!!)...had dinner and polished off a bottle of wine with mouse...witnessed and helped out a bit at the Effingham Half Iron Distance (my Godfather and his buddies were participating and I was out in force with my super fantastic cowbell, seriously...I am one rockin' spectator)...took a week off of all athletic-y stuff to help my body recover...found myself at the end of my fuse with work-related drama...and in turn, have found a solution to said drama...still searching for my inner-zen...

...so when the opportunity to walk away from my desk at 5 proposed itself...I took full advantage and ran home.

I can't lie...I didn't exactly know what to do with myself. So...I sat around with Mike for a little bit and then, of all things...we went biking.

Now...most of you may remember...Barb and her bike...well...we tango.

...and not in a good way.

But today was different. I actually enjoyed myself. I allowed myself to relax and dance with the bike. And for an entire hour I danced without a care in the world. I let go of all my 9-5 stress (or in my case 8-7 stresses) and got lost in pure bliss.

Oooooooooooooh it was SO WONDERFUL!

The bike was an extension of my body...no awkwardness with my clips...no crazy out of control crashes...no freaking out because I couldn't change gears (which is still a problem if you're keeping track)...

Instead it was smooth sailing. I went out with the intent to just have a leisurely ride to clear my head. I didn't focus on speed or anything...I just focused on my cadence and the "scrapping mud off your shoes" motion. It was quite nice, until I hit the volleyball-infested area around Fullerton. It's a miracle I didn't knock someone out (although with the way some of those idiots were parading around they probably deserved it--you Chicagoans know exactly what I'm talking about). It was insane down there. After 30 minutes I turned myself back around and headed back north to the car. I was flying. Perhaps it was the wind at my back, or the tacos I ate for lunch providing jet fuel, but I was passing folks left and right.

Sure...some of them were your touristy bikers...but I didn't care. I passed 'em. And it was a confidence booster. And in the time it took me to cover 30 minutes going south, it took me only 20ish minutes to make the return trip. Pretty sweet, eh?

Since I had another 10 minutes before I had to meet Mike, I continued north past the parking lot to squeeze in another 2 or so miles. On the way back to the car, I'm zipping along and out of the corner of my eye I spot a smiling bald dude...heeeeeeeey...I know him...it was our own Full Metal Lunchbox (and I think Shea and Jeanne were with him? not sure.). I gave him a hollar, but I don't thik he recognized me all dolled up impersonating a cyclist. So Josh...that chick on the bike giving you a cat call today, totally was me. I would've stopped to chat but I wanted to beat the clock to meet Mike...plus my stomach was growling...and well...I'm a beast when I'm hungry. Next time...

But yeah...it was one awesome ride. Blissful. Carefree. A 'watch out Lance Armstrong' ride. It reminded me just how awesome life can be.

...it was a joyride, indeed.

Something's gotta give.

This is Running Jayhawk...(well...at least this will be running jayhawk in a few weeks on her cruise...and then again when she's in St. Kitts this November...)

Okay...so this more like Running Jayhawk (and how psyched am I that I found an image of an actual jayhawk in running shoes?!)....

Your happy-go-lucky, fun-loving, cartoon-esque character that is just...well...awesome. Usually, said Jayhawk is chill (for a high-strung birdie) and relaxed...

But...this is how Running Jayhawk feels...

Like.complete.and.total.shit. Roadkill. Toasted birdie.

I am so ridiculously frustrated right now. Work, as of this moment, is beyond stressful. I'm too young to be stressing out this much over such things. I feel myself wearing thin. Mentally. Emotionally. Visibly. And physically at times, too.

Something has to give. To date, my diet, my training and my sanity have all suffered. And it needs to stop. Especially since I've got a freaking triathlon in what...two weeks? oh shit...this should be interesting.

I'm trying to figure things out in the meantime. Trying my best to just inhale. exhale. and repeat. Trying not to let myself get so worked up over work. It is, afterall, just work. It'll still be there tomorrow. I've got a hell of a work ethic and have issues saying "no"...which, on some levels is a recipe for disaster.

I owe you guys a GMR race report. I know. I'm working on it. I promise. And I have been doing some running as well...but I haven't had a good run since GMR, which is further perpetuating the frustration. During Saturday's run, I started getting shooting pains in my lower right leg. I've been trying to ice my leg to help it feel better. It was one of those runs where I convinced myself that running a full marathon was a really dumb idea.

I'm not a cut throat runner. And I'm okay with that. But sometimes I wish I were. My husband had the discipline to go out tonight and run his 8 miles with 4 at LT pace. Me? After a long attempt at a stress-relieving cry, I am sitting on the couch. Annoyed with life. I don't have it in me to run right now. I'm not fueled or hydrated properly, and even if I were, I'm not sure I'd want to...

I've resurrected to the fact that I don't really care about getting that 4:59:59 at Chicago this October. I don't think I have the competitive drive--or dedication or discipline--to get myself to that point. Plain and simple...I want to run Chicago in a faster time than I did last year. Be it a 5:54 or a 4:59. I've come leaps and bounds in my running abilities compared to where I started just 2 years ago. And damnit...I'm proud of that.

I run because I find it fun. And when bad runs make it not so much fun, I really just don't want to do it anymore. Which is not the mentality needed to get me at the point of breaking the 5 hour barrier.

I know I just need to get my poop in a group and get my head back in the game...and I'll be fine. Really...I will...

In the meantime, I just need to figure out how to destress myself and find my center.

Hmmmm....yeah....I jut reread this rant, and there really is no point. Just wanted to let y'all know I'm still alive and kickin'....that's all, really...so....hmm....

you may now return to your regularly scheduled day.

A moment 22 months in the making...

Years ago (seven, I think?) when I was visiting my older sister Susan in the hospital as she underwent chemotherapy and radiation, I vividly remember a conversation between us and my mother about her potentially losing her hair. Naturally, Susan was freaking out and was borderline hysterics at the thought of being bald. And my mom, in her good humored nature suggested that because our hair is exactly the same, I could just shave it all off and make a wig for her. I joked that rather than give her the hair on my head, I'd gladly donate the hair on my legs (which grows ridonkulously fast, for the record...GMR folks you know what I'm talkin' about).

Lucky for all of us, she didn't lose her hair like many women do who undergo those painful cancer treatments. But the truth is, I would've gladly given her my hair.

Okay...so I wouldn't actually shave it all off as my mum so eloquently suggested...but I definitely would have hacked a good chunk of it for her. Sisterly love, right? I mean...I may have been a spoiled brat when I was younger, but I was definitely good for something...be it leg hair or head hair.

I didn't really think about that moment too much the following years. Mostly because I hated thinking about those months Susan spent in the hospital since it made me really angry.

It wasn't until I became involved with Team In Training that I revisited the thoughts of those chats while sitting with her in her hospital room.

The very first TNT training run I attended our mission moment was delivered by a woman, who was close to Susan's age, who was battling leukemia. She wore a pale purple bandana to hide her delicate white scalp. That's when it hit me...that woman could've been my sister (sure the cancer was different, but cancer is cancer is cancer...and no matter how you slice it, cancer really effing sucks). So in many ways, she was my sister.

On the drive home from my gruesome first run ever (a whole 3 miles, in cotton socks no less...which for me, a non-runner on that day, was a very huge deal) I decided that I was going to grow my hair out. For my sister. For cancer patients everywhere. For everyone who has ever had the possibility of losing their hair.

So here I am. 22 months or so later. I'll let the photos speak for themselves...

So yeah...there you have it. No more ridiculously long hair that I just throw up on top of my head. My head feels soooo much lights, I think the extra weight off may knock a few minutes off my pace (I can dream, right?). The look? It's inspired by Maggie Gyllenhaal's super cute bob (I sooo have a girl crush on her, but that's the subject matter of a different post).

I promise the full GMR report tomorrow. Or maybe Wednesday since we've got 8 miles with 10x100 with Leah and Jason in the evening. It's about halfway done...and I'm still catching up on my sleep. And let's be honest...work is totally getting in the way of my blogging. But such is life.

Catch you kittens later! Happy running...

Dude, we're done.

I'm still pulling myself out from the land of exhaustion. I've been borderline delirious since about....oh....6am on Friday morning. Last night after a few McDonald's cheeseburgers and a shower I actually started to feel human again. No doubt that tomorrow morning I'll be good as new.

I'm still in the process of wrapping my head around the 190-mile insanity...so I'll write a full report later, covering the good, the bad, and the ugly. 'Cause let's face it...at 4am on no food or sleep, we're all ugly.

In the meantime...here are a few photos for your entertainment...

At the start line ready to go...

There goes Josh, he's in the lead! Strong and tough...like nails.

I love my hubby...but if we were in the same van, we would've killed each other...

The whole gang awaiting Dawn's arrival at the first Van Exchange...
Soooo sleepy. At breakfast. Gettin' some love for Taylor.

Mouse looks hot in her headgear.

Ryan, aka Mr. McSpeedy Pants, sending me to my final leg (it was a horrible leg at that!) Dude, WE'RE DONE!!!

Okay...more to come later. Time to sleep. ...aaaaaaaand, I'm chopping my hair off tomorrow for charity. I'M SO EXCITED. IT IS SO FREAKIN' LONG AND IT'S DRIVING ME NUTS! Woo!!

Taylor is done. We're awaiting miss mouse! Ryan is ready to roll. And e found the sunscreen. We're so ready to be finished. 4 legs left.

Mouse is on the move for 7 plus miles. Our sincerest apologies to taylor for getting lost...we love you!

New team name: dude where's my bed?

We are so tired.

First leg done in 1 hour four minutes - 5.76 miles. Our team is doing awesome!

Dude, Why Is It So Early?

It's official. I'm renaming our team one of the following names...

Dude, what crawled up your ass?
Dude, lines at Hertz O'Hare are RIDICULOUS!
Dude, why is it so early?
Dude, driving the BEAST is awesome!
Dude, lay off the TAG AND AXE!
Dude, this is totally the bestest group of runners EVER!

Okay.

Stop procrastinating, Barb.

Time to get ready.

We're running like 190 miles or something today. Fun times, campers, fun times.

Now, let's just hope those tornadoes and shit steer clear. Feel free to call us with weather updates!! :)

See you on the flip side, and enjoy the photos as they come in on our blogs! Peace, yo!

Awesome.

Getting the gmr vans is a 2 hour endeavor. Fun times.

Busy lil' "B"

You know how little kids when they're sleepy, they can pass out in almost any position? They do that cute little semi-drift-off thing and as their head begins to droop their eyes suddenly burst open in alertness, only to slowly close again and repeat the head drooping drift-off once again...

That's me. Right now. At my desk. Struggling to stay awake. It's really that bad. I'm considering taping my eyelids in the "open" position. I'd like to personally thank the folks who created MarioParty 8 for Wii, as they are the reason I get sucked into staying up later than I should. I have no will power for this game. It's a blast. And it's a game that Mike has yet to win (read as, I've won every time we've played). So yes. I'm exhausted.

I should seriously know better.

But I have literally been running on all engines the past few weeks...and the end is in sight...and the end, just so happens to be, August 19th. After a careful consultation with my calendar...we've really got things planned virtually every weekend between now and the 19th...and on that fabulous, hot Sunday we set sail for the Caribbean. It's official. The final balance for our cruise has been paid for in full. We have no more excursions left to book. And really, the only thing I need to do is find one more swimsuit...and we're ready to hit the high seas. In between now and the cruise we have...3 concerts. 6 races (2 of which are triathlons). 2 cubs games. Mike's graduation ceremony and celebration. Graduation party for our friend's lil' sis. 1 yet-to-be-determined game night (woo! WHO'S EXCITED FOR THIS SUCKER?!). 1 out of town wedding. A ridiculous amount of training runs. Countless open water swims. A handful of bike rides. Coupled with the insane stress season at work...I'm left hoping that I can survive.

And it just so happens...the running helps me survive. It's my sing to myself and la la la my cares away time for just me. I look forward to my runs. And it really sucks to have a less than stellar one, though I know we all have 'em from time to time.

Saturday's run, just so happened to be, of those runs where I convinced myself I was NEVER going to run again. It was awful. We had 60 minutes with TNT. First two miles ticked away just fine somewhere between 11 and 12 minute miles.

Then...I'm not sure what happened. But my stomach went into complete and total pissed off mode. It flipped. It flopped. And I was rendered feeling nothing short of nauseus. I found my way to a porta potty convinced it was the dreaded runners trots. Nothing. The nice ladies who were at an Avon Breast Cancer Walk Aid Station encouraged me to drink some poorly-mixed Gatorade. It threw me into dry heaves.

I was left with no other choice than to walk 2.5 miles back to the car, optimistic that I'd be able to at least run part of the way after the feeling passed.

And it was awful. I wanted to cry my stomach was tying in knots so badly. Just before the Totem Pole I stopped for some water. It definitely helped. A few deep breaths later, I dusted myself off...and attempted to run again. My brain and my body were definitely not in synch. Not even 20 strides later I was back walking.

In the end, I had to walk the remaining distance back, leaving me feeling deflated. When I was almost to the car, Mike came out and met me to walk me back in. Poor guy, tried to get me to run again...but that was just not going to happen. I was in a foul mood and basically needed to be left alone.

Looking back, I think I was likely really dehydrated. I remember this time last year I had a few really horrible runs when the weather warmed up. So I'm chalking this up to my body adjusting once again.

The remainder of Saturday and a chunk of Sunday was spent getting her royal awesomeness situated in her new Chicago digs. Her place is seriously super cute. Awesome location and a killer view. I may just move in with her. Okay. Maybe not move in. But invite myself over for slumber parties and what not.

In other news...that little 190 mile race is this weekend...the Great Midwest Relay. Things, for the most part, have come together swimmingly for our lil' ole relay team. E-Speed and Dice get into town tomorrow. We take off Thursday night...and then 12 of us will spend Friday and Saturday taking turns running from Madison to Milwaukee to Chicago. I imagine you'll be able to find a handful of "live" photos from our cell phones on our blogs...to be followed by a lot of photos after we've all recuperated. I'm excited, and take pride in staking my claim as the slowest one on the team. It will definitely be a hoot! I'm crossing my crossables that Saturday's run is not any indication of how the relay will go down.

Mmmk...that about wraps it up for this Tuesday edition of Barb's blog. Until next time, this busy little "B" is buzzing off...

Happy Running!

Song of the moment: Smashing Pumpkins, With Every Light

Welcome to chicago, mouse! Yay for pantsless unpacking parties...but with pants, of course.

Looking Ahead...

You know those days...where everything is going fabulously peachy keen...and life is great...and you're happy to be alive...and you can't stop smiling because the weather is beautiful and race season is in full throttle and you're just so excited for your next event to arrive?!

...but then you let your race season excitement get to your head...and you sign up for more events with a huge grin and "I can do it" winning attitude as you hand over your precious dollars and cents to the race director as you think, "Watch out! I'm gunna set the new course record!!" (cause lets face it...we all know deep down that I'm going to set a lot of course records this year!)

...and then you sit down and smile at all of the super fun and awesome races you've planned for yourself over the course of the season...and plot them out on your calendar...

...and then your excitement turns into the dreaded....OH $#*! moment...as you realize that your infinite brilliance and exuberence for life could end in inevitable disaster because clearly you are the world's.best.planner.

Mmmm...yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah. I just had that moment.

Look at my race calendar. I mean reeeeeeeeally look at it.

July. It's big. It's busy. It's scary. It's INTIMIDATING.

I have somehow managed to commit myself to some type of event...every...single...weekend. Events that I all really, really want to do.

Now. I don't see this as too tragic...except for the fact I'm also training for that little 26.2 mile "A" race of mine in October. So amid all the craziness...I'm gradually increasing my mileage.

The day before the Danskin Triathlon...I'm scheduled to run 10 miles. Although because we're supposed to be at check in by noon that day, we may have to miss this run (which will likely be in my best interest). So we'll see. It'd be great if I could get a 5k in to keep the legs nice and loose.

The day before the L.A.T.E. ride...14 mile run.

The day before the Harbor Lights Triathlon...10 miles run.

The day before my 10k run (which may very well turn into a 5k if the heat is as bad as last year's race)...a simple 90 minute run.

And these are just the TNT miles...not the adjusted Pfitz miles which I plan on doing but refuse to look at because it scares the pants off of me anytime I see the schedule (but you can basically assume that the Pfitz runs will be adding another 4-10 miles on top of what TNT has listed). So I'll just pretend that these are my distances for now and keep things kosher in my mind.

Because when things are kosher in my mind...my grin gets a little bit bigger and I get a little bit more excited about upcoming events. And in this case? Excitement is good. Because I have to be excited about giving up my precious Sunday morning sleep-ins to the Swimming/Biking/Running gods. If I'm not excited about the events, then I'll be miserable. But the good news is...is that even though it's a crazy schedule...I am genuinely excited about each one.

Sure, none of them are "A" races. And really, only one (ok, maybe two) is a "B" race. The rest...really...are just for fun and have no significance behind them, aside for the fact that I really just wanna do 'em.

So come July...this lil' Jayhawk is gunna be busy. And tired. But still very, very excited. I figure the extra workouts will be good for me, as long as I am able to relax and have fun with it all.

Right? Right!!

Afterall, all this hard work will make me a better runner. A better person. A better planner (hah!). But ultimately...it will make me a Triathlete.