“Get up. It’s time to run.”
What are you talking about? I am still basking in the glow of accomplishing a PR in the race on Sunday.
“That was two days ago. What are you going to do for me today?”
Who are you anyway?
“I am the training schedule and I must be obeyed.”
OK. So what did you have in mind this morning? A 3-mile leg stretcher? Maybe 4.
“8”
You have to be joking. 8 miles?
“I am the training schedule. And I don’t joke.”
Dude, you need to lighten up.
“Mr. Dude, you need to get out of bed and run. 8 miles. Now get going.”
OK, OK, I’m going already.
“You will thank me on that hot day in June when you are going up and down hills for 13.1 miles.”
Don’t push it, buddy.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Racing against thousands of runners -- and my own self doubt
I’m a huge fan of Margaritas, really I am.
The blender had barely stopped whirring last night when Mrs. Oz filled a glass with the delicious, frosty concoction and then looked askance when I said, “No thank you” to a glass of my own.
Not my typical response.
It’s not that I am some sort of world-class athlete with iron will for discipline or anything. But I did have a race this morning and yes, I am trying to set myself up to succeed.
So last night I did abstain. I even went to bed early. We had rented a couple of DVDs. By the time I got done watching one with the youngest Ozling, it was quarter to 9. So instead of staying up late to watch the second movie with Mrs. Oz, I read for a little bit and then turned out the light.
Yesterday I did run long, but I took it easy for a little over 9 miles. The Half Marathon in June is my true focus for this part of the running season so I needed some mileage, but I also wanted to rev up the engine today at the Trolley Run 4-miler. So I tried to leave some gas in the tank.
And rev I did this morning. Vroom, vroom.
The leader of my weekly running group encouraged everyone doing today’s race to take it easy on the first part of the course. It can be a bit congested with thousands of runners and walkers. And the early going is flat to slightly uphill.
I thought I was taking it easy. Sort of. When my little Garmin buddy beeped a first-mile split, though, it informed me I had gone a little over 7.
Then we hit the downhill portion of the course. Downhill is fun. The rest of my splits…..went negative.
I often have negative splits in my races. But it doesn't usually involve faster miles toward the end. They reflect negative thoughts of self doubt that fill my head late in a race. When I hit the mind games part of the race, they did in fact arrive. “You are going too fast. You know you are going to get tired. What if you bonk? “
“Shut up. I have been training. I’m doing OK,” I replied to the negative thoughts.
“Don’t you think if you keep going this fast you are going to bonk?” they counter.
I kept them under control. Mostly. I kept running steady and hard, but then a dude in an orange shirt came up beside me. He pushed ahead. I followed and pushed ahead of him.
We traded position about four times in the last ¾ of a mile. Then he made a final surge with what turned out to be a little more than ¼ of a mile to go.
I kept running hard, but gave in to the mind games and conceded that my legs did feel a little heavy. I gave in a bit to the fear of bonking – even as it was irrational with so little distance yet to go. I let Orange man go without a final fight and he crossed the line at least a couple hundred yards ahead of me.
Still, though, I kept the negative thoughts at bay more effectively than I ever have before. When I crossed the line, it was a PR -- with the fastest average time per mile of any race I have ever run.
I will learn from today and be stronger next time. And I will celebrate today's accomplishment.
Tonight, should Mrs. Oz pour a glass of the Syrah resting in our wine rack at the moment for herself and one for me, I certainly won’t say, “No thank you.”
The blender had barely stopped whirring last night when Mrs. Oz filled a glass with the delicious, frosty concoction and then looked askance when I said, “No thank you” to a glass of my own.
Not my typical response.
It’s not that I am some sort of world-class athlete with iron will for discipline or anything. But I did have a race this morning and yes, I am trying to set myself up to succeed.
So last night I did abstain. I even went to bed early. We had rented a couple of DVDs. By the time I got done watching one with the youngest Ozling, it was quarter to 9. So instead of staying up late to watch the second movie with Mrs. Oz, I read for a little bit and then turned out the light.
Yesterday I did run long, but I took it easy for a little over 9 miles. The Half Marathon in June is my true focus for this part of the running season so I needed some mileage, but I also wanted to rev up the engine today at the Trolley Run 4-miler. So I tried to leave some gas in the tank.
And rev I did this morning. Vroom, vroom.
The leader of my weekly running group encouraged everyone doing today’s race to take it easy on the first part of the course. It can be a bit congested with thousands of runners and walkers. And the early going is flat to slightly uphill.
I thought I was taking it easy. Sort of. When my little Garmin buddy beeped a first-mile split, though, it informed me I had gone a little over 7.
Then we hit the downhill portion of the course. Downhill is fun. The rest of my splits…..went negative.
I often have negative splits in my races. But it doesn't usually involve faster miles toward the end. They reflect negative thoughts of self doubt that fill my head late in a race. When I hit the mind games part of the race, they did in fact arrive. “You are going too fast. You know you are going to get tired. What if you bonk? “
“Shut up. I have been training. I’m doing OK,” I replied to the negative thoughts.
“Don’t you think if you keep going this fast you are going to bonk?” they counter.
I kept them under control. Mostly. I kept running steady and hard, but then a dude in an orange shirt came up beside me. He pushed ahead. I followed and pushed ahead of him.
We traded position about four times in the last ¾ of a mile. Then he made a final surge with what turned out to be a little more than ¼ of a mile to go.
I kept running hard, but gave in to the mind games and conceded that my legs did feel a little heavy. I gave in a bit to the fear of bonking – even as it was irrational with so little distance yet to go. I let Orange man go without a final fight and he crossed the line at least a couple hundred yards ahead of me.
Still, though, I kept the negative thoughts at bay more effectively than I ever have before. When I crossed the line, it was a PR -- with the fastest average time per mile of any race I have ever run.
I will learn from today and be stronger next time. And I will celebrate today's accomplishment.
Tonight, should Mrs. Oz pour a glass of the Syrah resting in our wine rack at the moment for herself and one for me, I certainly won’t say, “No thank you.”
Monday, April 21, 2008
Ragged
Get out of here, he said.
Guess I was looking a little ragged around the office. The past few weeks have been more of an adventure than usual at work. A bunch of extra late and early hours, a grueling trip and an intensive new project.
Don’t know whether my boss was just recognizing my extra effort or fearing I was about to goof something up or even about to drop. Either way, I accepted his offer and took the day off Friday.
So how did I spend my time? I went for a long run, of course.
A glorious, no rushing through it, enjoy a run in the sunshine kind of long, long run. It was fantastic.
Parked the car near a local trail that runs parallel with a creek. Tightened my laces, pressed the start button on my little Garmin buddy and then headed off. Turned around at about 3.5 miles and made my way back to the car.
A few gulps of Gatorade later I headed for 3.5 miles in the other direction. I was aiming for a moderately paced training run. Really I was.
But as I pondered things going on at work and in the rest of my life lately, the adrenaline coursed through my veins, the tension rose and my pace inexplicably quickened. As I neared 13 miles after the second turnaround, I was only a minute or so off my half marathon PR time.
Dumb, dumb, dumb.
I did manage to slow it down for a final mile or so of cool down at least.
It felt good to get a good run in. We had friends visiting from out of town and a weekend packed with activities so I wasn’t able to get out on Saturday. It also helped dump some of the tension I have been carrying around inside lately.
I paid the price for an overly ambitious pace, though. My legs were sore for most of the weekend. Only this morning on a brief 3-mile leg stretcher did they start better after I had the chance to work some of the kinks out.
Got a race coming up this Sunday. A four miler that ends on the Country Club Plaza. Then of course we’ve got Nancy’s 10 on the 10th coming up. I’ve also been getting excited about the Hospital Hill Half Marathon in June. Still trying to figure out what I might want to do in the fall.
A little racing and a lot of running should bring my fall plans into greater focus.
Guess I was looking a little ragged around the office. The past few weeks have been more of an adventure than usual at work. A bunch of extra late and early hours, a grueling trip and an intensive new project.
Don’t know whether my boss was just recognizing my extra effort or fearing I was about to goof something up or even about to drop. Either way, I accepted his offer and took the day off Friday.
So how did I spend my time? I went for a long run, of course.
A glorious, no rushing through it, enjoy a run in the sunshine kind of long, long run. It was fantastic.
Parked the car near a local trail that runs parallel with a creek. Tightened my laces, pressed the start button on my little Garmin buddy and then headed off. Turned around at about 3.5 miles and made my way back to the car.
A few gulps of Gatorade later I headed for 3.5 miles in the other direction. I was aiming for a moderately paced training run. Really I was.
But as I pondered things going on at work and in the rest of my life lately, the adrenaline coursed through my veins, the tension rose and my pace inexplicably quickened. As I neared 13 miles after the second turnaround, I was only a minute or so off my half marathon PR time.
Dumb, dumb, dumb.
I did manage to slow it down for a final mile or so of cool down at least.
It felt good to get a good run in. We had friends visiting from out of town and a weekend packed with activities so I wasn’t able to get out on Saturday. It also helped dump some of the tension I have been carrying around inside lately.
I paid the price for an overly ambitious pace, though. My legs were sore for most of the weekend. Only this morning on a brief 3-mile leg stretcher did they start better after I had the chance to work some of the kinks out.
Got a race coming up this Sunday. A four miler that ends on the Country Club Plaza. Then of course we’ve got Nancy’s 10 on the 10th coming up. I’ve also been getting excited about the Hospital Hill Half Marathon in June. Still trying to figure out what I might want to do in the fall.
A little racing and a lot of running should bring my fall plans into greater focus.
Friday, April 04, 2008
Travel marathon
It took 12 miles, but I got out all the crankiness. Almost.
Was a bit of a grouchy bear when I woke up this morning. Mostly it was the after effects of this week’s trip, I think. Running was the tonic that I prescribed. It seemed to work.
I now am feeling refreshed and much more content, thank you very much.
Only ran one other time this week, but walked what seemed like a million miles around Vegas and the sprawling convention center. My calves were tighter than if I had just raced in a half marathon.
Had a joyous – and at least in my traveling past, unique – experience in the Phoenix airport thanks to U.S. Airways on my flight home Wednesday. It was a tight connection, but we actually landed on time. I could have made it.
Then we sat. And sat.
“Well, sorry about the wait, but we are looking for someone to push the jetway over to the plane so we can open the door,” the pilot said.
A few more minutes go by.
“We found someone to move the jetway, but it looks like he doesn’t know how to operate it,” the pilot informed us. “They are going to find someone else.”
More minutes tick off the clock.
“Um, I guess we have a power failure in that jetway. Now we need to get pushed back from this gate and we will drive over to another gate with a working jetway.”
About 10 minutes more go by. We pull up to a new gate. They do in fact open the door. I get off.
My Kansas City-bound flight is gone. They book me on a new flight – scheduled to leave in four hours.
That flight ends up being delayed for yet another hour and 15 minutes. Spent more than five hours just hanging in Phoenix. At the airport. My, what fun.
By the time I landed and headed home, it was about 1:30 a.m. I found the boy Ozling sleeping in my place in the bed. He looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb him. I went and slept on the couch.
Only ran one other time this week, but walked what seemed like a million miles around Vegas and the sprawling convention center. My calves were tighter than if I had just raced in a half marathon.
Had a joyous – and at least in my traveling past, unique – experience in the Phoenix airport thanks to U.S. Airways on my flight home Wednesday. It was a tight connection, but we actually landed on time. I could have made it.
Then we sat. And sat.
“Well, sorry about the wait, but we are looking for someone to push the jetway over to the plane so we can open the door,” the pilot said.
A few more minutes go by.
“We found someone to move the jetway, but it looks like he doesn’t know how to operate it,” the pilot informed us. “They are going to find someone else.”
More minutes tick off the clock.
“Um, I guess we have a power failure in that jetway. Now we need to get pushed back from this gate and we will drive over to another gate with a working jetway.”
About 10 minutes more go by. We pull up to a new gate. They do in fact open the door. I get off.
My Kansas City-bound flight is gone. They book me on a new flight – scheduled to leave in four hours.
That flight ends up being delayed for yet another hour and 15 minutes. Spent more than five hours just hanging in Phoenix. At the airport. My, what fun.
By the time I landed and headed home, it was about 1:30 a.m. I found the boy Ozling sleeping in my place in the bed. He looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb him. I went and slept on the couch.
Welcome home.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
How would she run in those boots?
So last week, duty called, forcing me into the office in the wee hours on both Thursday and Friday.
Two planned runs? Scratched.
This week, duty called again, sending me on the road for a business trip. Monday was spent on airplanes, so no running then.
This job thing is really starting to get in the way of my running. If only I could find a sponsor for a middle-of-the-pack, never going to win a race runner who likes to run the occasional half mary, a few 10ks and maybe one day a marathon. I could quit my job and train full time. Any takers?
No? Oh, well, I’ll keep training anyway.
Tuesday, I laced up the Mizunos and headed out the door of my Las Vegas hotel.
The time change sure was messing with my body. My internal clock, and my watch (which I didn’t reset to local time), both were telling me it was 7 in the morning, as it was back in the Land of Oz
But in Las Vegas, it was only 5.
I cruised through the casino/lobby in my running duds to get outside. It’s awesome to get the runner’s-eye view of a new locale. No better way to check out the scenery as far as I am concerned.
Probably an all-time favorite was on a trip to San Francisco. Ran along the waterfront and saw the early-morning sun glint off the Golden Gate Bridge. Truly stunning.
Anybody else have favorite spots where they have run while traveling?
A run during a visit to Boston last year was nice, though my hotel was in a crappy part of town. I did run long enough to get to some more interesting scenery than the industrial, highway-choked section where I happened to be staying.
This week I started cruising along the Vegas strip. I got my six miles in, but it was kind of disappointing.
It was cool to run by the Eiffel Tower, a few canals of Venice and gawk at all of the posh hotels. My what bright lights. Ran by a few early-morning revelers who had yet to call it a night.
Ran by one young lady, a local who seemed to be taking a break from her morning run. At least I think she was a runner. She was wearing skimpy shorts, like a runner's. She was wearing a skimpy top, much like a runners. But she also was wearing thigh-high leather boots with semi high heels.
How in the heck did she run in those?
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