Amnesia, plz?

One week until the Spokane Marathon. 'Bout time for an update, eh?

I suddenly became ridiculously busy a month ago. Consequently, I've been eating un-veganly (i.e. getting fatter, though not fat, thankyouverymuch), sleeping less and smoking lots of cigarettes. My mother is going to read this and kill me.

Cross-training is a distant memory -- it must've been August when I last rode my bike anywhere but work. (And I haven't been doing that much, either.) I have, to my credit, managed to fit in most of my training runs.

Grand prize for abusing my body is that, just in time for the race, I've caught whatever floating-germ disease is circulating among my friends.

Since running is 90% mental, please join me in pretending the aforementioned things are not true from now until Sunday.

Hildegaard Goes to School

Luke and I meet downtown on Tuesday. Plan is: a warm-up ride to the North Side, then speed work on the Whitworth track.

A *warm*-up ride. But I look down to figure out where the hell my shoe clips into my pedal and, by the time I look up, Recumbent Man has screeched across "Go" and left me in the dust.

It's a couple miles before we hit a light and I catch up, gasping.

"So you think my bike is nerdy, eh?" he says. He has evidently had a chance to read my most recent post -- the one in which I may or may not have good-naturedly insulted his non-motorized vehicle and gloated about "giving Lukester a run for his money" now that I have clip-in pedals.

When being schooled, it's imperative to maintain a veneer of cockiness.

"I believe 'nerd-*mobile*' was the terminology used," I say.

"Well," he replies, with a new, very special kind of smirk on his face, "Let's see how fast this *nerd-mobile* can go" and speeds through the changing light.

No more Mr. Nice Luke.

The worst eight miles of my life later, we make it to Whitworth, me blind from sweating in my eyeballs. Speed training is awesome; I run my first 6:45 mile since my prepubescent cross-country glory days. I plop down on the grass, soaking in the awesomeness of being awesome.

But Mr. No More Mr. Nice Luke is not done with me -- none of that resting garbage will be tolerated.

It is time to familiarize me with the "route" (also known as "death march") he takes home from work each day. It runs up the South Hill at about an 89% angle at a point where the South Hill is seven or eight times longer than it is anywhere else.

I am being punished.

Each time I think the granny-gear misery must be through, we round the corner to encounter yet another, even steeper, stretch of hobbly brick roadway.

I try my best, first burning through all the muscle juice I have and then through the scant remains of my pride. But all the determination I can muster just can't get me a single brick past 9th Street.

Yes. The rumors you've heard are true: the illustrious Erika "Is-That-All-You've-Got" Prins was briefly (but only briefly, mind you) reduced to getting off her bike and walking.

And so, although I maintain my allegations of nerd-mobile-iness, I am left with no choice but to humbly retract the implication of, at any point, having given runs for money.

The Day Hildegaard Grew Wings

Both Roomate and Luke have recently been sidelined by foot issues. The faint-of-will might shrug and take a week or two off, but not us.

We are faint-of-faintness. Not faint at all. We biked instead.

Luke, also known as Speedy Recumbent Man, barely broke a sweat leaving me in the dust of his nerdmobile of a sit-down bike. I pedaled my heart out trying, yet failing, to keep up.

You may not know this about me, but I really, really, really like to be good at things. Preferably better than you. "Failed" is the only f-word in my vocabulary.

So I pedaled my (very sore, at this point) ass to the bike shop and begged them to make me faster. They jimmied my gears into shifting better. They deemed my hybrid's tires sufficiently road-friendly.

They sold me pedal clips.

Suddenly, Hildegaard the Bike was a fucking rock star. Three minutes practicing (clip in. clip out. clip in. clip out.) in the parking lot and I was ready to jam, finally giving the Lukester a run for his money.

A few miles along on the Centennial Trail, he waved me over to stop at the loo. I skidded to a halt all pro-like and went to hop off my bike. But my feet. Wouldn't. Move.

My oversight became clear to me one epic moment too late, right about when I began to keel over in slo-mo.

Oh, the humiliation! But karmic retribution was not done with me. Only the most thorough of squelching could level my pride, and we all know what a dirty whore that karma can be. As I struggled to myself free from this clipped in, capsized state, I looked up to see a dashing cyclist passing me, downright guffawing at the squirming pile of metal, rubber and bloody knees.

3 lb.

At mile 24, I made myself a deal. If I would just power through the last 2.2, dietary discipline would be tossed to the wayside for seven days.

It worked; my legs kept revolving toward a mirage of milkshakes and chicken strips. But my week of gluttony, combined with rest from most physical activity, has taken its toll. The scale whimpered when I stepped onto it this morning.

In other news: even though we had decided to take a week of rest, Luke and I declared three days long enough on Tuesday night.

This is what running felt like Wednesday morning:

Gummi bears + secrets.

Marathon #2 was infinitely less awful/more f*cking awesome than marathon #1.

• No injuries. Not one.
• Perfect, perfect, perfect weather.
• We had a whole bunch of friends & family cheering us on/paparazzi-ing the whole way.
• They had gummi bears at mile 23. Horse hooves or not, that sh*t is magic.
  
• My mile time improved by almost a minute and a quarter.
• There was food after.

Roommate's family pretty much rocks; they hosted two barbecues in our honor, gave us places to sleep and drove from point to point to cheer us on. Her brother came through with totally rockin' race shirts with our names on the front (so strangers could also cheer for us by name...and they did)! He also printed bright blue shirts for the fam so we could spot them far off in the distance every few miles, cameras in hand and SUPER excited for us. This may sound like a bit much, but these things go a long way after a few hours of pounding the pavement.

We also had a bike gang comprised of The Boyfriend, Tom and Carey, who woke up at 3 am Washington time to see us off at the start line. (Race started at 6 am Missoula time, which is 5 am here.) They bicycled the 26 miles alongside the course to be our second cheer squad and make extra sure every millisecond of the experience was documented in video and photo form.

It should also be noted that Carey bought me a Dairy Queen Butterfinger Blizzard on the way home from the race.

I finished in 3:49:41, a half-hour improvement over my first attempt. My ranking was 176/596 and 2/26 for my age group. Even thought it doesn't mean a thing in terms of objective performance, I'm pretty thrilled to have come in 2nd for my age. Just 'cuz I'm needlessly competitive like that.

I think all athlete-types have two sets of goals: those that we admit to people and the slightly unrealistic ones we're actually shooting for.

Both Luke and I were secretly aiming for times around 3:30, even though our official goal was to finish in under four hours. So even though officially speaking, I totally met my goal, there's a twinge of disappointment that I didn't make it in under 3:40, which would have qualified me to run in the next Boston Marathon. I don't even really care about running that particular race, but it seems to be some sort of marathoner badge of honor to get there.

As such, we have set our eyes on the Portland Marathon in October -- and on a speedwork-focused training regimen. My official goal for this one is to qualify for Boston, which requires me to shave about ten minutes off my time. This is totally possible. My half-marathon split was 1:49:06, which would have worked out to under 3:40 if I'd kept it up.

My secret over-ambitious goal shall remain, as it should be, secret.

Coundown: 14 days to marathon!

Lots of things have happened since we talked last.

1. Roommate and I went for a wicked-long run that resulted in much abdominal fury and a trip to the doctor's office. Doctor WebMD'ed my ailment and told me everything I had found on the internet myself. Swell.

2. Thanks to a strict diet of candy and fast food, I've lost a couple of pounds. I apparently can only lose weight by not thinking about it at all -- the minute I make a concerted effort, I fail miserably at the hands my obsessive tendencies.

3. I got faster.

Once last year I averaged an 8:49 mile in a half marathon. That was mind-blowingly fast compared to my usual pace. But training for this marathon, I've finished most runs feeling like I could have pushed the pace either a little or a lot (and like widening my stride might help improve my efficiency).

So finally, I did. It started with Luke mapping out a run of we did together and discovering we had totally rocked it.

You don't come this far in the distance running world without also becoming masochistically competitive against yourself, so I resolved to keep up with Luke on our runs and instructed him not to slow down for me.

Luke is fast. And he runs faster uphill, the bastard.

Although I have generally done well at this, last Wednesday I was dragging. I couldn't keep pace with the man to save my life and felt like garbage on wheels.

Per our routine, Luke mapped our run afterward and emailed me the breakdown. We had run an 8:09 mile for 8 miles -- no wonder I felt like hell! We'd previously been stoked to break nine.

Again, a distance runner can't just give herself a pat on the back leave it at that. Our reflex was to set a new goal: sub-eight miles on our next run. I again struggled to keep up with Speedy Gonzales on Thursday, but we ran 6.75 miles at about 7:40 per mile. Yee-haw!

4. Roommate's brother found us a sponsor for the marathon (which, by the way, is in two weeks): The Boys and Girls Club in Missoula.

It works like this: roomie-bro is raising funds on our behalf, getting race shirts printed with the club logo, and whatever remains after covering our race costs will benefit the club.

He is a policeman in Missoula and apparently loves doing this sort of thing, so he's going to town with getting people to donate money and all that. I like this arrangement because I don't have to do anything but will look super badass in my B&GC race shirt.

5. Roommate and I volunteered for IronMan and I am in love. We were there in the evening, so the badasses to whom we were handing out snacks & water had been out there for over 11 hours by the time we got there, 17 hours by the time the last guy reached the finish line.

6. I have become that person who can't talk about anything but running.

Unlike things I am characteristically passionate about -- social issues, politics, journalism, etc. -- running is pure soul food for me. Nothing about it is for anyone else, which is purely glorious in a life of obsessive people-pleasing and fretting about issues I can only make a tiny dent in improving.

If you're one of the numerous victims of my endless "Omg have I told you I'm super fast? Do you want to feel my super buff thighs?" monologue, know that it'll probably simmer down once I get over the ridiculous fabulousness of doing something healthy for myself. In the meantime, I suggest you feel my super buff thighs, because they really are quite impressive.

What DO vegans eat?

I'm so glad you asked! Some tasties that've recently graced my tastebuds:

• avocado, tomato, lettuce, & spicy mustard sandwiches.
  
• walnuts.
• asparagus roasted in olive oil and vinegar, topped with sesame seeds.
• hummus, pita & veggies. Go see the nice people at The Shop on S. Perry and ask for the Clutch Plate.
• bread.
• tomatoes.
  
• curry & naan at Taste of India.
• watermelon.
• cous cous with olive oil, garlic and pine nuts.
  
• freshly-ground peanut butter from the bulk foods section.
  
• strawberries.
• soup. The possibilities are endless, especially if you can get your paws on some Trader Joe's Vegetable Savory Broth Concentrate. Phone in a favor from your friends in hip places--so worth begging someone to mail you a couple boxes (they are small).
  
• Neato Burritos.
• smoothies (my favorites are : banana, ice, soy milk & peanut butter; and banana, ice & o.j.).
• mangos.
• pasta with pesto or olive oil, garlic and lightly grilled veggies.
• beer! ...But not all beer. You may be repulsed to learn some beers are filtered through fish innards. Mmmm, innards.
• taco salad. (That's the huge salad in a mondo taco shell you always wish you'd ordered when the waiter sets it on the table next to yours).
  
• bok choy.
• Back to Nature sandwich cookies. Oreos are vegan too, but Back to Natures are waaay tastier, particularly the chocolate/mint ones. Find an accomplice, lest you find yourself unable to resist eating the whole box yourself in one sitting.
• falafel.
• artichoke.
• broccolli dipped in olive oil & vinegar.
• almonds.
  
• grilled Tofurkey beer brat in a bun with sauerkraut & spicy mustard. These soy dogs are pretty much the only faux meat I enjoy. And by "enjoy" I mean "fervently pine for when we are apart." I'm exercising lots of self control if I can keep myself to one package of these puppies a week. They're pretty heavy on the cals but also contain 27 g of protein per dog, which is 18 grams more than a Johnsonville pork brat with roughly the same calories and 9 extra grams of fat contains.
  
• grapes.
  
• bananas.
  
• edamame in teriyaki sauce.
• sushi rolls with veggie tempura, avocado, and carrots. Raw Sushi downtown makes a killer vegan roll.
  
• olives.
  
• calzones with veggies, mushrooms, vegan pesto/pizza sauce & olives.
• coffee. COFFEE! I've been drinking my lattes with soy milk for ages because of the nuttiness and texture soy adds to the drink, and because true religion can only be found in the espresso-swirled galaxy of soy foam. Most coffee shop chocolate sauces are dairy-free. Soy-phobes, go with rice milk--also tasty. Again, let The Shop do 'er right fer ya.
• fruit salad.
• bagels.
  
• leeks. I like them in stir fry or potato soup.
• english muffins.
  
• spanish peanuts, tamari sunflower seeds and other bird-food goodies from the Huckleberries bulk section. Super cheap, too.
• mushrooms. I've made a nice recovery from the college dining hall days of mushroom-flavored everything. They're actually quite tasty in moderation, as long as they're not cooked to sliminess ("cooked to sliminess" was a common trait of the 7,436 mushroom-themed dishes served at the aforementioned dining hall).
• carrots.
  
• grapefruit.
• Alternative Baking Company cookies sold at the Rocket Bakery on Garland. Glorious.
• barbecued veggie kabobs.
• brown rice.
• Taco Bell Fresco Menu items with crunchy shells or nacho chips, substituting beans for the meat. For some unknown reason, they put dairy in their tortillas (who the f*** puts dairy in tortillas?!) and guac, but the refried beans are vegan. Little-known fact: they'll make most menu items "fresco" by replacing dairy products with pretty decent salsa--not a bad idea for anyone wanting to leave the restaurant without a sideache.
  
• udon noodles.
• green beans tossed with almonds and olive oil.

With that said, I will also say this: a young man just walked by my store window wearing long, fuzzy, purple cat/lynx/rabbit ears.

Hildegaard and me.

Today I biked and it was fantastic. Like seeing an old friend, the only who really knows how to work my glutes.

I've driven absolutely everywhere for six months, which considerably weakens my case for being a superior human. Weather-wise, I could have started the biking routine a couple weeks ago. Now I have absolutely no excuse.

"Reasons" I have recently employed to avoid biking to work include:

• The South Hill, which I have to bike up at the end of the day. This is not the sort of thing I like to do.
• After-work activities. I like biking up the South Hill even less at 9pm, after yoga or soccer, than I do at 6:30pm.
• Running late. I wake up at 5 to run because I am certifiably hardcore. Nonetheless, I have a REALLY hard time getting to work by 10am, either because I've gone back to sleep or because I've embarked on a writing/cleaning/futzing around project and lost track of time.
  
• Potentially inclement weather. It may be nice out now, but by 3pm it'll be hailing. 6pm is soggy and cold, exactly the sort of weather I consider shitty biking weather.

Last summer I got around just fine without a car. I biked, took the bus, jogged, walked and bummed the occasional ride.

I am much busier this year, but the benefits of biking still far outweigh the lost time-efficiency. It's time spent outside, time spent exercising, exploring the city, saving money, getting an awkward tan, stepping away from the batty-making American Work Day routine.

Weather seems to be improving, it's light out till 9pm, and there is always the bus if I'm feeling extra-averse to The Hill. My bike has a brand new basket on the handlebars and recently-greased gears. Besides, I'll need a toned derriere to match my killer abs.

See? I really have no excuse. If all goes well, this is only the beginning of a beautiful summer fling with Hildegaard, that sexy blue vixen on wheels.

(Thar she is. Quite the looker, ain't she?)

It's on.

...The Most Extreme Killer Ab Competition, that is.

The plan:
1) Take "before" pictures.
2) Get ripped abs.
3) Take "after" pictures.
4) Ask randomly-selected judges from the streets of Downtown Spokane to choose a winner.

This is how it happened: I remarked via Facebook that I do, in fact, want killer abs like the sidebar ads tell me I do.

Luke suggested we engage in a killer ab competition. I agreed, as did Roommate.

On our first long run together, Roommate and I devised the above-stated plan, and thus the Most Extreme Killer Ab Competition was born.

It took some coaxing to get a "before" shot out of Luke--I think we took this a wee bit farther than he expected.

But I think the enthusiasm is catching on. This morning, he taught us an ab workout I can currently only sustain for six seconds. Roommate spent a large portion of her day off doing varied crunch-like things on her calisthenics ball. I... Well, I ate some Taco Bell. But I am totally on it.

I will win.

Misc. tidbits / granola confessions

1. I. love. the. sun.

2. My running jacket, which also happens to be my second favorite article of clothing, often ends up being my all-the-time jacket. Problem is, it is made of all kinds of synthetics that eat b.o. for breakfast and have nasty breath all day long.

I may or may not have just sprayed the inside of said smelly jacket with the "wasabi green pea" room spray we keep under the counter at work. Jacket still reeks, but now with vegetable undertones.

3. This week's resolution: to run every mile on my training program. This woman is no slacker, dammit!

4. I'm resigning to my fate: I am that asshole "granola child" only borne of a middle-class suburban upbringing followed by a liberal arts college education.

Perhaps everyone else has already identified me as such. But I have long been in denial, affirming myself with lies from the pit of hell, e.g. "I am a well-rounded, balanced individual!"

No, I am not.

I am suspicious of microwaves and televisions. I refuse to work anyplace where I only know the owner by a 8 x 10 framed portrait on the wall.

I buy organic, local, local organic and vegan. Exclusively. I describe your dinner using terms like "flesh," "animals," and "baby lamb-ie." It takes me half an hour to order a restaurant meal, and that's after the waiter has gone back three times to check the ingredients of various sauces.

My political perspectives are more extreme than my eating habits. My laptop is plastered with angry bumper stickers bought on the street at Telegraph Ave. in Berkeley. I haven't worn makeup since Clinton was in office. That's a lie, but you get the idea.

As sold out as I am to all these dirty hippie ideals, I grew up in the suburban inferno that is North-central California. As such, things like turning off lights and taking less-than-45-minute showers do not come naturally to me. I like to be comfortable. I like the feel of plush carpeting and textured tiling under my feet. And I love, love, LOVE lawns.

Now that I am officially embracing my culture, I'd better practice what I preach. No more animal-cruel shampoos (but they make my hair so soooft). No more driving to work (but it's so faaar). And my kitchen cupboards shall, from heretoforth, be stocked with homemade granola.

The new routine/ the sun/ shiny new kicks.

5:10 - Hit snooze on 5:10 alarm in my sleep.
5:15 - Hit snooze on 5:15 alarm in my sleep.
5: 17 - Hit snooze on snooze alarm from 5:10 alarm in my sleep.
5: 20 - Angrily open one eye to find snooze for 5:20 alarm.
5:20:04 - Close said eye, silently vowing to never, ever get out of bed.
5:21 - Remove purring cat from face.
5:21:10 - Remove purring cat from face again. Throw purring cat across room.
5: 22 - Hit snooze on 5:15 alarm's snooze while pretending to still be asleep.
5: 24 - Remove purring cat from face. Turn off snooze from 5:10 snooze's snooze.
5:25 - Remove purring cat from face. Turn off 5:25 alarm. Get out of bed. Pull on running clothes. Brush teeth. Search bedroom floor for two of the same sock.
5:27 - Run back to bathroom to silence evil snooze from 2:20 alarm. Pull on Shiny New Kicks. Mess with laces for a while.
5:29 - Silence 5:15 snooze's snooze's snooze. Drink some water.
5:30 - Meet Luke outside. Run a bit. (Roommate is injured and ices her ass each night while she does her chemistry, so Luke and I are running without her for a while.)


In other news, I am going to sunny California for the weekend to visit Boyfriend. I plan to do my 20-mile run in plain view of the ocean, wearing nothing but shorts, a sports bra, underwear, socks and Shiny New Kicks.

...which reminds me, I haven't discussed my Shiny New Kicks yet. I purchased them at Runner's Soul in Downtown Spokane after a tedious process of trying on and trying out about 20 pairs of shoes. I chose the Brooks Glycerine 7, which looks like this:










It's a neutral shoe with lots of sexy and extra cushion. It fits snugly around my foot all the way with a little extra room lengthwise in the toe. Heel slips a little, but much less notably than in my previous shoes. Lots of mesh makes them super breathable. Have I mentioned they're super sexy?

I paid $125 + tax for them. This also happens to be the amount they go for online, give or take $0.05. I had not one, but two employees offering me information about what I should be looking for, what they thought about the different shoes, and even how I could tie my laces to minimize my eternal heel-slipping problem. I also got to take each pair I tried on a test run outside.

After you spend $500 at the store (or 4 pairs of this shoe, which should be replaced every 3-4 months at my current average mileage), you get a $50 gift certificate. Assuming I stick with this store, which is more than likely, I ultimately get the shoes 10% cheaper than I would online. And I get real, live, knowledgeable customer service from good-looking people.

Runner's Soul happens to also keep a comprehensive online calendar of local running events and put on/sponsor its own runs. I betcha Zappo's never told you nuthin' about where to find a group run on the weekend.

ab fab.

I can see them! Faint little lines that indicate where, underneath they pudgy byproduct of too much candy, my abdominal muscles reside. When it comes to getting my ass out of bed to run in the morning (and skipping the cheese on my pizza), motivational self-talk doesn't hold a candle to the glimmering possibility of seeing my long-lost abs.

"NO!" ...ahh, that has a nice ring to it.

Now officially on the Roomate & Luke training program, I am doing the 5am thing regularly. By that, I mean I started today and plan to keep it up.

But here's the thing: I need to sleep. Operating on less than six hours of sleep is akin, for me, to having a mild hangover, which is akin to having soul-sucking leeches feeding on my brain. Not the ideal condition in which to show up at work.

So I'll be learning to say "no" to that one extra thing (or eight) that I tend to try to fit into my day in the interest of getting my runs in, finishing my freelance work on schedule, showing up for fancy-shoe-store work bright and chipper, cooking and eating real food, and breathing. All before I go to bed at 10:00. I could also use some time to do housework, take care of my bike (which I was scolded for not doing yesterday), play with my cat, read, paint... all those things my imaginary friend, who posesses time management skills, does without me while I am out being overcommitted to nothing in particular and certainly not to my own sanity.

Heaven.

"I am sleepy. I am grumpy. I want some chocolate," I lamented to Roommate while foraging through the barren land that is my refrigerator. But alas, halves of onions and packets of tofu are the only company my condiments keep.

"I will have to go to the store and buy some Rice Dream (ice cream made of rice)," I moaned, "but I am so sleeee-" I was unable to finish my lament, because she rather rudely interrupted me to say:

"12 oz. soy milk
3 tbsp. unsweetened cocoa (supplied by Roommate)
3 tbsp. sugar (I used 2 because my soymilk is sweetened)

Heat slowly on the stove while stirring with a whisk."

magic. the nutty taste of soymilk beautifully complements the heaven that is sugary cocoa. Thanks, Roommate!

yo(-del-ay-ee-)ga! + Komen

Exciting things happening in my life:

1) Yoga tonight. For the first time in WEEKS. The impending agony is my entire current reason for living.
2) Komen Race for the Cure on Sunday. That means I have to figure out how to pace for a short distance. ...stat.

Halvsies.

I dearly love to run. I do not, however, fancy severe barfiness for hours after a mere training run. I went for my scheduled 17 miler yesterday and could not eat lunch. I mostly just wanted to nap for the rest of eternity. And barf (which I did not, in the end, do).

This I took as an indication that the 1.5 weeks I took off from an already short training period were 1.5 weeks I really needed to be ready to run a marathon (well) in a month.

I think I could do it. I mean, I did the 17 miles yesterday. But. I do not want to injure myself and miss out on running outdoors during the gorgeous Spokane summer I've been looking forward to all winter. Meeting my time goal for the marathon is also out; I averaged around a 10-minute mile for yesterday's run and completely spent my energy (although I feel really good today).

So here's Plan B (not abortion, but prevention!): I am signing up to run the Windermere's half marathon. Luckily, I held off on registering to see how I recovered.

That gives me a full month to get my 13.1 miles down to a time I'm happy with. And I'm setting my sights on running a mid- or late-June full marathon.

At the very least, I feel like I'm being kind to myself. Although, I have to say it's hard to concede that I haven't been committed enough (I had been slacking off on training before the injury), and that I'm not (yet!) fast enough, strong enough, or disciplined enough, given how completely I wrap my lifestyle and identity around being an athlete; particularly a runner.

So I'll take it as a lesson to only bite of slightly more than I can chew, rather than trying to prove some nonexistent superhumanity. "Time your injuries well" is an ex-marathoner acquintance of mine's motto: there's gotta be room in the schedule for injury recovery, lest one find oneself in the bind I have found myself in.

Aforementioned (embarrassing/hilarious) amputation poetry.

a cold appendage is all you are

swollen, log-like

indifferent to touch.

putrid pale yellow leg

turquoise-blue sausage toes

do what you’ve always done

and get on with it.

i want you off! disjointed.

a pile of anonymous bits

tossed in the dumpster

alongside frozen hearts

drowned livers

long since replaced by living parts.

allegiance cramped your style

or so you said. well, look at you now!

we are both only still here hoping

for blood flow, a pinch, a feeble step.

but come on. i know dead when i smell it.

lookin' good in purple, blue, and puffy.

I miss running like I miss childhood innocence. But alas, I have royally f***ed up an essential part of my marathon training: my right leg.

Last Saturday, I bruised my shin quite badly in a soccer game. And by that, I mean someone's steel foot met my shin at about 100mph, producing a grapefruit-sized protrusion on my lower leg. Said protrusion has since disappeared and the area hardly looks bruised--although it hurts to even run a razor over the area in the shower. All the blood seems to have sunken to my inner ankle, which would currently be better described as a grape-flavored cankle.

"Still," you say, "What kind of whimp skips out on running 'cuz she's got a bruise?!"

Well, I didn't at first. It looked much better the following day, so I joined Roommate for a lovely evening run. I woke up the next morning cursing the planets for the unfamiliar, excrutiating pain I felt in my once-favored appendage. I whined. I cried. I wrote amputation-themed poetry.

None of these activities seemed to be resolving the problem, so I eventually discussed it with my boss, who discussed it with her husband (a doctor). He said I probably did not need an amputation, but that increased bloodflow to the area and stress on the bruised muscle was going to hinder quick healing. I should, he advised, sit around eating ice cream as much as possible. And so I did. (Substitute "Rice Dream" for "ice cream.")

Things do appear to be improving, but I'm wondering how long this new regimen should last. Until Obama gives me health insurance so I can actually GO to the doctor? I hOpe not.

I've got shit to do; a marathon to train for. And an unsightly ring of fat is forming around my midsection. So I've determined to find myself some elasticy bandage substance, wrap up my leg real good and hit the pavement.

Roomate is from Montana and says "like hell" a lot. So, um. Like hell I'm gonna miss out on running in the toasy Mexican sun next week!

Laundry.

I jinxed the morning thing by writing that post. The roommate got sick and I got sleepy and we haven't gone since.

In other news, sunshine. SUNSHINE is here! I went for an epic 15-mile run on my day off (a few days late per my training schedule, but epic nonetheless). I parked at Huckleberries, a natural food store far enough from my house that I didn't have to retrace the paths I always, always run. I then embarked on the most pleasant 3.5-mile uphill trek you'll find--it follows a bluff overlooking some green stuff and expansive storage units southwest of Spokane.

I followed the suburban maze back down to the shop, then scooted (drove) to the start of the Centennial trail to meet my runner friend. The encouragement was much appreciated at that point; my legs may be unbelievable, but they've been known to start whining around the 10-mile mark.

Soccer practice followed, and we were lucky enough to find a bunch of dudes wanting to play a mini game against us. I'm sure they thought I was supremely wussy when I started doubling over with exhaustion 15 minutes in, but whatcha gonna do?

In summary: I got a sunburn. I met my mileage goal. I played some soccer. I did not get any laundry done.

To sleep or not to sleep...

I've been running at 5am with the roommate. It's miserable to wake up that early, but I'm thinking about making the switch to mornings (maybe more like 6 or 7, unless I'm running with her). Here's why:

1) I eat a LOT after running. This is a much better idea in the morning than at 10pm, when the Big Feast tends to happen for me. It totally doesn't work to try to eat more in the day so I won't pig out after running; I just end up eating even more.
2) I often run late enough that I have adrenaline going well into the night. I do like to wake up at a reasonable time, which is not possible for me when I didn't go to sleep till 1 or 2am. Running in the morning will get me going for the day, when I want to be awake!
3) I'll occasionally have running buddies... roomate & co. are not on the same training schedule I am, as they're training for a marathon on another date, but there's some overlap and, for me, some flexiblity on when which miles happen.
4) As my runs get longer, they become more difficult to fit in between my other evening activities and the time my gym closes/ it's too dark for running alone outside. Not much is going on early morning to conflict with running, and somehow morning darkness is not as scary.

Then came the post about running.

In addition to the injuries to which all runners are prone, I am prone to being kicked in the bones-- mostly because I play soccer twice a week. But last night, it was my ill-intentioned shin bone that picked the fight. It kicked the shit out of some guy's poor kneecap, leaving us both rolling on the ground in agony.

As it was 20 degrees or something outside, I kept playing to stop the muscle from cramping. It did anyway. I managed to convince myself I could still do my scheduled run and perhaps work out the cramping, which it turned out I could. My thigh--which was bothering me before--became very tight as I ran. My guess is that it felt some increased stress while the old bod tried to figure out how to deal with the shin thing. The internets say I've strained it and should massage, ice and go easy on it--but that I shouldn't have to stop running altogether.

My body is sore all over from the whole thing. Poor me.

...Where no noodle has gone before.

Microwaves freak me out. My feelings are backed up by absolutely no scientific research about cancer. Perhaps by extension of my hippie-ass-minimalist-vegan ethos, I just get a bad vibe from them. Also, they make my food soggy.

But I have recently begun to explore the art of microwave cooking, that being my only option at work aside from restaurant takeout. Occasionally I remember to cook extra the night before so I just have leftovers to warm up, but remembering is not my strongest asset.

As I left the house today, I grabbed a packet of organic soba noodles that says "to go where no noodle has gone before" next to a rocket ship graphic, some stir-fry sauce, soy sauce and pumpkin seeds. I first microwaved the noodles in a tiny paper bowl--a terrible idea--then drained them, added the sauces, microwaved the combo, added pumpkin seeds and chowed. Not as good as stir-frying, but tasty nonetheless. The issue with microwaves is, I think, compromised texture (well, that and unadulterated evil). So I guess this dish works microwaved because noodles are soft and squishy anyway. I did miss veggies, which I don't particularly like microwaved.

So, yeah. Viola! Another vegan delicacy. I should say I don't put a ton of work into making sure I get my recommended daily values, I just eat lots of different foods. I'm still learning the basics of what each nutrient does for the body, what my foods contain and how much of each nutrient I need. My current approach is to think about it most while I'm grocery shopping, then eat most of what I bought before going back to restock. So when I run out of peanuts, I'll make sure I also finish my almonds, pumpkin seeds and flax seeds before replacing the peanuts--forcing me to eat a variety of foods.

I survived.

Nine miles are do-able. Treadmills are also do-able. But a nine-mile run should really only ever be done on God's paved earth.

For that exact reason, I seldom do such a long run on the hamster wheel. Sometimes, though, sub-freezing temperatures and a lack of daylight necessitate indoor running, and sometimes those times are times when your training schedule says you are supposed to run nine miles. Like, for example, this Monday.

So this is what I did to get through it:
1) Listen to Alanis Morissette at unreasonable volumes via my little ear buds that, by mile seven, were not even staying in my ears anymore because, apparently, the insides of my ears were sweating profusely.
2) Set the grade to 1-2%. Running uphill is hard, I know. But just a tiny grade on the treadmill adjusts your stride to more closely resemble how you run outdoors. I have no idea where I learned to do this, but it's brilliant.
3) Take it easy. Taking a challenging pace on a long treadmill run is psychological suicide. The trick to staying on the thing for over an hour is zoning out--escaping into your mind where you compose an ongoing manifesto on the meaning of life, the universe and everything. I picked a pace I don't have to think about and stuck with it through mile 7. Magic, I tell ya.
5) Forget about the mile meter until I was far enough along to get excited about how close I was to finishing. ...or at least tried to. Staring at the thing is categorically un-conducive to zoning out.
4) Work in "aid stations." My goal was 3 miles in the first stretch, but I kept going to 4.5 because I was feeling good. The second half required a break in the middle. The trick to the breaks is to make them as short as possible so you don't have to start from scratch with your heart rate--just get a drink, use the restroom, or stretch out the set of muscles that's bugging you. If you think it's whimpy to take breaks, I challenge you to a run-off. Nine miles on the treadmill. Let's go.

Spectacular Vegan Nacho Recipe

Vegan delicacy of the day: nachos. But not just any nachos. These are organic-red-tortilla-chips-with-homemade-salsa-and-guacamole nachos. I know, you're jealous. My lunch has, like, seven times the nutritional value of yours, is fucking delicious and looks like a technicolor dreamcoat.

Don't get mad at me for my superior diet, get even! You, too, can make Spectacular Vegan Nachos--just follow this top secret recipe, invented in my kitchen last night.

Salsa:
1 tomato about to go moldy
1 shallot clove, already partially moldy
2 green onions
1 radish (currently 49.5 cents per bunch at Rosauers)
fresh cilantro
lime juice
crushed red pepper

Chop up the veggies and cilantro, chuck 'em all together, and add lime juice and crushed red pepper to taste.

Guacamole:
1 avocado
salt
pepper
lime juice

Self-explanatory. If you want it runnier, add a splash of soy milk.

Beans:
1/3 can vegetarian refried beans
soy milk

Mix some soy milk in with the beans for easier glopping.

Nacho instructions: Spread out a single layer of nacho chips on a plate. start with beans, then add guacamole and olives. Stick these in the oven at 350 for a few minutes, just to get them toasty. Throw some salsa on top once they're out of the oven and there you have it.

Love it.

One day of cross-training and two runs in: I remember why I love running. Besides having totally cut thighs, which is awesome.

I love running because there is absolutely no way to not feel like a golden god when you've just met some sort of personal goal--whether it's running a faster mile time, actually completing a workout at any speed on a tough day, or running farther than you ever have before. No high-five needed--other peoples' approval is immaterial.

It's official.

I've solidified a training plan I'm happy with. It's basically the "Intermediate I" training plan from Hal Higdon's website, minus the first five weeks and two of the harder weeks. (The plan includes two 20-milers separated by a shorter "long run." I pared it down to one 20 and remove the shorter run in between as well.) Last week I ran 12 miles and did an equivalent amount of aerobic cross-training. I am scheduled to run 31 miles this week.

I am open to completing some "mileage" on the bike if I feel a potential for injuring myself by more than doubling what I've been running recently. I was averaging 50% more than this weekly mileage three months ago and, although I have not been running as much, I have been staying strong, limber, and fit. Crossin' fingers, I should be able to make the jump.

Whiiiiine!

I am SO sore. Like, fatigued sore, which is followed by the other kind of sore all over my body yesterday. I didn't run yesterday but did an hour on the bike and elliptical.

I decided not to run because I felt the need for a "rest" day from running. By that I mean I was feeling mysterious leg pain I wasn't willing to explore by further aggravating it. After a helpful conversation with a gym-going friend, I have concluded that the issue is running on our little suspended track along the periphery of our basketball courts. My IT band injury first became apparent when I ran a 4-mile trail stretch along the side of a hill--the same sort of scenario of repeatedly doing this lopsided stride. She recommended sticking to the dreaded treadmill unless it's just a short warm-up jog.

Anyway. So today I HAD to run, despite feeling even less up to it than I did yesterday. I want to listen to my body and be less obsessive about getting my miles in than I was the last time around, but I also know it's a slippery slope to start letting every ache and pain count as an excuse not to run. Two days in a row of not running would indubitably sap my training momentum.

Having voiced all my complaints, I will now proceed to the exciting things about today: 1) I ran 2 out of my planned 3-miler at a 10 min./mile pace. Intentionally slow to accommodate the day's wussiness. I had convinced myself it was ok to quit at 2. But then I remembered how I once told myself "almost there" at the halfway point of a 26.2-mile race. The last mile seemed like a walk in the park. Since when did I quit with an f*ing MILE to go? So I ran the last mile, starting at a 9 min./mile pace (which I find much more challenging on the treadmill than in real life) and kicking it into somewhere between an 8.5 and 8 minute mile for the second half of the mile. I don't know if progressively speeding up at the end of each run is an odd practice, but it seems reflective of racing to me so I do it. 2) We had a really awkward substitute yogi today in yoga who totally kicked our asses. Like I said, I started out exhausted and sore. Somehow, though, he lulled me into bending and flexing beyond anything I usually do, even on a "good" yoga day. My butt muscles are toast.

Reflecting on the badass-ness of my workout today (all things considered), I am feeling much more appreciation for the pain I feel in my everything. It's well-earned!

The best thing about running:

Metabolism. All early-morning grogginess flies out the window when I catch a glimpse of the faint ab lines running along the sides of my stomach. I strike a pose. And another. One more, with an emphasis on my bulging thigh muscles.

It's not just generally being in way better shape than normal that gets me going, it's also the novelty of waking up hungry. The quintessential American lifestyle feeds us before we're hungry, full of things that just kinda sit there--or at least, that's how it feels. Frequently when I'm not exercising, I eat for stimulation--because I'm tired or bored. Then, hunger is more of an overall depleted feeling than the stomach-growling sensation that makes you feel like your body's working as it should.

Along with actually feeling hungry comes a much better idea of what kind of fuel my body craves, rather than just the kinds of tastes it craves. And hunger really is the best chef--food tastes remarkably better when you're hungry!

Week 2, day 1

Today I went to the gym, got on the treadmill, ran three miles, biked for ten minutes, stretched, then went home. My plan had been to bike 30 minutes, but I have had some persistent pain up the back of my right leg on the bike. I decided to give it a rest and start fresh tomorrow. It's too early in the process for that sort of thing.

On the plus side, I ran the three miles at a solid pace and it felt much easier on my lungs than the runs I did last week at the same pace.

I've decided to use the 18-week training schedule at the back of my marathon book, Marathon: The Ultimate Training Guide by Hal Higdon, which I bought at Runner's Soul. I'm still working on adapting it to my 12-week timeline.

My strange nutritional adventure

I have been a naughty vegetarian (i.e. one who eats some meats with some frequency) for about 2.5 years. I love to cook and I eat fairly well, but not well enough to sustain a marathon training program.

Every tiny little issue you may have never noticed about your physical life becomes a giant crisis when you're running all the time. That slightly creaky left hip becomes seven different injuries on the left side of your body. And an inadequate diet leaves you completely drained of energy and potentially covered with mystery bruises.

Leading up to my first marathon, I was finding it hard to simply eat enough food, and was losing weight for the entire duration of my training. I like losing weight and would like to lose some more, but this was the kind of weight loss where I was looking and feeling kind of gross. (Sidebar: I received the most praise for my slimmer physique when I was feeling least healthy. I'll let you draw your own conclusions as to what that says about our culture.)

It is a firm goal of mine for this not to be the case again. My analysis of the issue, based on lots of reading on the topic, is that I felt it hard to eat because I was anemic for a long period of time--a cause for appetite loss--and the problem would have been solved by eating better foods, not necessarily more.

A common recommendation I've found, which seems easy to follow without becoming fanatical, is to eat a 1:1:1 ratio of protein, fat, and carbs coming from a wide variety of mostly-whole-food sources. The variety ensures that you get all kinds of vitamins and nutrients without having to think about it too much. Whole foods contain more good stuff by volume than processed foods, allowing you to meet your nutritional needs without consuming excess junk or calories.

So there's the reader's digest version of my plan. A tiny detail I've yet to mention is that I'm doing a vegan experiment this time. The theory is that I'll cease to eat cheese and drink milk (the only dairy products I consume a significant amount of), neither of which provide me nutrition I can't get elsewhere, and thereby pay more attention to what my body actually needs.

My previous marathon-training diet followed my long-time vegetarian error: filling the fat and protein-shaped hole in my stomach with cheese and bread or pasta made with white flour. Although I probably got enough protein and (too much) fat from this default, it's no good as a staple. So the vegan deal is a way to force myself to get creative and eat better.

So far, it's gone very well. I've snacked on dry grape nuts (which I don't expect anyone to salivate over, but I like), spanish peanuts, fruit and carrots. For meals, I've had delicious tofu & veggie stir fry over brown rice made for me by a friend, curry vegetable soup I made in about 15 minutes, toast with avocado, and soymilk/banana/peanut butter smoothies. These are much more exciting and delicious foods than I normally eat, which makes me look forward to meals and cooking.

I've also cut down to 2 cups of coffee a day. I don't want to 'fess up to the amount I was previously drinking, but I will say that the significant reduction has only had positive benefits in my energy level, athletic performance and mood.

Take Two

I have officially begun training for marathon #2: the Windermere Marathon. I am terrified of starting off too intensely and re-injuring myself. I am either imagining or can feel a hint of pain in my outer knee reminiscent of my IT band injury.

But you have to start somewhere, and I've set my goal at about 3 miles a day, 5 days a week and a 6-mile "long run" tomorrow. Workouts will be harder and easier depending on what I add onto the 3 miles. Easy days will be yoga days, hard days will tack on 30 minutes of some other form of cardio. I've read that cross-training for the first few weeks is a good way of increasing fitness without as much risk for injury from increasing mileage too fast.

So. For the next few weeks, my increase in running will be 5-10% per week, and will be my transition from cross-training to mostly running. (For each running mile I add on, I'll drop a mile of biking, rowing, eliptical, or whatever cardio I'd been substituting). At least at first, that will mean adding 1/4 mile to each run on average, although I'll probably target the "hard days" for mileage increases and leave yoga days at 3 miles, and adding a mile per week to the long run.

Given that the last time I was running, I was averaging 40-45 miles per week, it's taking some self-discipline to keep my mileage so low. I keep reminding myself that I won't be running at all if I am injured, and I have ple-e-enty of time to get in shape. I'm also consoling myself with speed work--the hope is to qualify for Boston, which means running just over an 8:20 minute mile. I've run much shorter races at that speed with no problem and completed a half marathon with an 8:49 mile time in late October 2008. I think I can do it.

Training for my first marathon

I attempted to maintain a blog documenting my first marathon training experience. Unfortunately, I was too busy running to do a good job. Nonetheless, I did write a few posts, which are posted below, from oldest to newest.

Monday, November 3, 2008

How it all began.
I started training for my first marathon roughly two weeks ago.

Eight days ago, I ran my second half-marathon, finishing 32 minutes faster than my first.

That was Sunday. I took a one-day break and then resumed training. Most of my runs are on city streets and through my neighborhood. On the following Thursday, I got daring and went for a trail run. It was beautiful. It was liberating. It was one run too many.When I started feeling intense burning on the side of my left knee with each stride, I had no idea how to get off the trail.

To make a long (and freeezing cold) story short, I ended up walking five miles back to my car and arriving late to work.Thus, I acquired my first official running injury. I have self-diagnosed it as a bum IT band. With some (okay, TONS) of web research and the help of a long-time runner friend, I made a strategic healing plan. I took four days off from running (and, contrary to wise and abundant advice, exercise in general), and spent lots of time stretching and massaging my outer thigh.

On the plus side, I have discovered the wonderful world of treating my body right. Massaging the injured area led to massaging my whole leg, my other leg, my feet, and so on. The same applies to stretching. How have I been running 20-30 miles a week for the past few months without ever bothering to do these things?

On the down side, I have experienced how demoralizing even a small injury can be. Like I said, I pretty much took a long weekend off from exercising. I also took the opportunity to party it up, since I had pretty much given up drinking in the interest of adding another 20+ miles a week to my regime without keeling over and dying.

Returning to running today, I felt like I was starting back at square one. We're talking, before I even started training for the half-marathons. I had to break up my six mile work-out into shorter runs (one before work and one after). Even then, I barely resisted the urge to give up and walk. I can hardly believe it was eight days ago that I ran a half marathon in well under two hours!

My aforementioned long-time runner friend always says running is 90% mental. I am, as of today, a true believer.

I trained for my first half marathon with a friend and the second shortly followed. Now, training alone, I am at the mercy of my serially self-destructive mind. As long as I'm doing well, I am the best cheerleader an athlete could hope for. On hard days, though, I can hardly tell whether it was my body or my brain that started it.
Posted by The Spokanite at 7:50 PM


Tuesday, November 4, 2008

I'm truuuudging in the raaain...!
This morning it was raining. I hadn't really thought about what I would do in such an event, so naturally I decided to do nothing. Stay home. Get some extra z's. Cuddle with my cat. You know, things normal people do in the morning instead of running six miles.

After yesterday's discouraging runs, the last thing I wanted was to trudge around my neighborhood all soggy-like.

Then, traipsing around in my undies as I do in the morning, I discovered a new muscle line on my thigh. I'm obsessed with muscle definition, and this one's a real beaut. Apparently that was just what I needed to get excited about soggy trudging. After all, normal people who snuggle cats in the morning only dream of having legs like mine.
Posted by The Spokanite at 11:51 AM

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

WalkJogRun
Just as I was despairing about 1) my lack of running buddies, 2) how boring my regular routes were and 3) how annoying it is to try to figure out mileage using Goggle Maps, I happened upon WalkJogRun. I highly recommend checking it out.

Among a host of other features, this site allows you to use Google Maps to measure out running routes, save them, and share them with other people. I typed my address into this little box and it found my house. All around my house were little yellow numbered markers, each of which correspond to running routes listed (with mileage and a short description) in the sidebar. Click on one of the routes in the sidebar and you get detailed directions, point-to-point distance measurements, the poster's comments, and more. You can change variables like speed, weight, and pace to figure out how long the run will be, how many calories you'll burn, and anything else you could possibly want to know.

I showed my dad, a computer geek, and he got unreasonably excited. But then again, exploring the wide world of Google Maps is one of his favorite pastimes. I'm telling you, this puppy has more features than even the nerdiest super-nerd of runnerdom could dream of.

On the running buddies thing, it seems like you can find them through this site. When I find out more about that, I'll be sure to let you know. In the meantime, anyone want to go for a run?
Posted by The Spokanite at 10:28 PM

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Of Treadmills and Men
I'll be honest: I haven't been running much. I had one particularly torturous run late last week. it was supposed to be 14-15 miles, but instead came out to just under 11.5. It was freezing cold (34 degrees, to be approximately exact), drizzling, and 7:00 in the morning. (I have switched to morning runs because it is dark by 4:30p.m. up here in the North Pole.) Not only had I, predictably, left the house 20 minute later than intended, I was running painfully slowly due to general physical misery and a horrible attitude.

At my mammothly pace, I simply could not finish the full distance in time and figured I'd modify the route a little. Still, I was calculating my new approximate mileage by my usual slow pace, which is significantly faster than the pace I was running at that morning... so after arriving at my house with my sopping wet pants sagging and sticking to my body, I was horribly disappointed to find out I hadn't even broken twelve miles, much less the 13-14 i had predicted.

Now, I recognize that any sane person knows 11.5 miles is still, as my friend's mom said, "nothing to sneeze at." But running a large distance in awful conditions at ungodly hours of the morning requires a lot of self-talk about how good it will feel to have accomplished your goal. Which I didn't. If I felt okay about only running 11.5 miles, I would have stopped running at the point where I thought I had completed 11.5 miles and ridden my unicorn the rest of the way home.

My psyche feeling quite damaged, I used the fact that my friend was visiting from out of town as an excuse to take not one, but two days off. I know. I am committing marathon suicide.

Yesterday I made a plan. With much agony to my soul, I joined a gym and resigned myself to tromping out the miles on a treadmill. I can tell it's going to be hard to complete longer runs on a treadmill, but for medium-distance runs during the week, it'll do. As a major plus, I can also swim, bike, lift weights, stretch, take yoga classes, play raquetball, and more. As a major, major plus, I can do all these things after work, rather than dragging my not-a-morning-person ass out of bed when it's still dark. My muscles (and soul) are already thanking me for not putting them through the hot/cold routine every morning.
Posted by The Spokanite at 12:27 PM

In the end, I succeeded in running the entire ugly beast that is the California International Marathon on December 7. (I exaggerate. The CIM mostly flat and downhill, the weather was perfect, and I walked through roughly half the aid stations.) I did the bulk of my training on my own and way to much of it on a treadmill due to the painful combination of cold weather and an IT band injury. Considering I was unsure on race day if I would make it halfway (my last long run outside had left me re-injured and beyond discouraged), running from start to finish was a massive accomplishment for me. My new goal is to finish the next one in under 3.5 hours.