Do It.

Vern's No Frills 5K - #24 Race Report

2011-03-19T15:57:00.004-04:00

A few weeks ago, I learned about a series of 5K races that takes place monthly in Georgetown, TX (about a 40-minute drive from where we live in Austin). The series is called Vern's No Frills 5K and takes place on the 3rd Saturday of each month. As the race name suggests, it is a "no frills" event (no awards, no shirts, no timing mats/chips, no clocks on course, etc.) . . . but hey, considering it only costs $1 for adults to run (students K-12 run free), I figured it was worth a shot!

After having stayed up WAY too late last night watching March Madness, Wilson and I woke up to the alarm blaring at 5:30 this morning. Ouch. It had certainly been quite some time since either of us had seen that hour! But I, for one, was definitely pretty giddy to be getting back to racing after a 6-month hiatus (9 months for Wilson!).

We sipped on our coffee and ate some plain grits, which seemed like an okay idea at the time; but soon I realized that my tummy was pretty darn unhappy with me. Meh. I've eaten grits as a pre-long run meal and have never had any problems; so I'm not sure if it was nerves or what. But let's just say that my gut was making some pretty crazy noises at me. I got dressed and took care of business, which made the tummy feel a little bit better (temporarily). Before I knew it, it was 6:45 and past time to hit the road!

Luckily, there was no traffic at all and we managed to arrive at the race site (Berry Springs Park & Preserve) ahead of schedule. Finding our way around was a piece of cake, as was parking and registration.* We had a good 25 minutes or so until go-time and my tummy was still a little pissy, so we hit the bathrooms (REAL bathrooms, yeah!!) then went for a quick warm up jog, including some strides. Not gonna lie, my legs were definitely all "WTF, chick?!" when I started the strides. I mean, it HAD been nearly six months since I'd done any speed training, so I wasn't at all surprised . . . but still, I started to get a little bit nervous.

Now, before I go any further, I should mention that I didn't really have a time goal going into this race. Having done nothing but easy runs since some time in early October, I knew a PR was almost definitely out of the question (current PR = 24:47). I think my biggest goal was just to get out there and leave everything I had on the course, so as to get as accurate a sense of my current running fitness as possible.

The start was casual. I wasn't sure where exactly the "start line" was, but I tried to line myself up in an appropriate area judging by the runners around me. When we were all lined up, the race director gave some last minute instructions and a description of the course; then made all of us raise our right hands and repeat, "I promise . . . to be safe". After wishing us good luck, the air-horn sounded and we were off!!

Right away, I realized I probably should have lined up closer to the front than I did . . . I was trapped behind a bunch of slower runners. I ended up going off the path and running around a number of them to get ahead. This seemed to be going well until I rolled my ankle a little on a divet in the grass. Ow. Luckily, by that point, I had gotten around enough people that the path seemed to open up for me. I glanced down at Gertie Garmin and was shocked to see that I was running at a 7:40 pace . . . oops! That was WAY faster than I should have been running, given the circumstances, but it really didn't feel that difficult. Still, I knew continuing at such a pace would likely lead to disaster somewhere down the road. I eased my pace a bit and decided to stick behind the tall dude in front of me. Soon, we hit the 1-mile marker, ran around a cone and headed back in the direction from which we'd just come.

Mile 1: 7:57

After we turned back around, we hit a quick uphill that wasn't particularly difficult; but as I crested the hill, I started to gasp for air. It was at this point that I really began to notice the humidity. Although it was only 64 degrees out, the 92%(!) humidity was making things a tad bit uncomfortable! On top of that, a nagging little ankle/achilles/calf injury I've been dealing with started to rear its ugly head, thanks to the pounding my legs were taking on the concrete path. I knew I had no choice but to pull back a bit more. As I watched my pace fade, negative thoughts crept into my mind; thoughts that would have, in the past, consumed me. "I'm so far off of a PR; what's the point?!" "My time is going to be SO humiliating!" "Wouldn't it be nice to just slow down and jog the rest of the race?" "Hell, maybe I should just drop out." I fought against the nasty voices in my head and pushed as hard as my body would allow. By this time, though, I was starting to fade . . .

Mile 2: 8:27

At some point in the previous mile, I'd noticed a small child--maybe 9 or 10 years old--who kept trading places with me. Now, at first, I thought this was adorable--I was just thrilled to see him out there racing and having a good time. But then, during the 3rd mile (as I began to struggle more and more), I started to get a little frustrated. The kid would sprint up ahead of me and run for a minute, only to sit down on one of the many park benches lining the course. There, he would wait for his dad (who was somewhere not too far behind me) to catch up with him. Then, of course, he would start running hard once his dad finally caught up to him . . . and pass me again. This went on for the remainder of the race. Looking back, I actually think it was pretty funny. I am positive I wouldn't have been so frustrated with it had I not been hurting so badly at that point. But, BOY, was I ever hurting. I looked down at Gertie at some point and noticed my pace had dropped to an awful 9:07. Ouch. I forced myself to pick it up a bit and pushed myself with everything I had left in me, praying for the finish to come soon. Finally, I could see it up ahead. Unfortunately, so could everyone else around me. Almost immediately, I got passed by another girl. I tried my hardest to catch back up with her, but I was running on empty. On top of that, I could feel myself quickly approaching the puke threshold. I wanted so, so badly to catch this girl, but it became apparent that I just didn't have it in me. I gave it one last hard push and FINALLY reached the finish line.

Mile 3: 8:51
Last .1 (or .19, according to Gertie): 7:37 pace

I was SO glad to be done. But still, I felt like vomit was imminent. I took a moment to compose myself. Finally, after a couple minutes, I felt like the contents of my stomach were safe. I walked over to the nearby pavilion where water and Gatorade were available** and met up with Wilson (who had finished in 22:16; a little over a minute slower than his PR). We animatedly traded race stories and splits for a while before heading back to the car (and then on to Round Rock Donuts for a post-race treat--YUM!). Even if this race wasn't the best race ever for us, I think it's safe to say that we're both glad to be back to racing! :)

Final Stats (according to Gertie): 26:17; 3.19 miles; 8:23 pace
Official Time: 26:19; 3.1 miles; 8:29 pace

Some Final Thoughts:

1. I LOVE this race series. Everything was run really well and everyone there (both runners and volunteers from the Georgetown Running Club) was nice as can be. I think it will be really cool to get to run a 5K on the same course every month, and a great way to judge my progress once I mix speed work back into my routine.

2. As horrible and inconsistent as my splits were, I kind of expected it. While I am bummed at how badly I faded as the race went on, I think I am more depressed that running a 26-ish minute 5K caused me to approach the puke threshold. That's just sad. I knew going into this that I wasn't in 5K racing shape, but c'mon!! My ego definitely took a hit there.

3. At the same time, I am in shock that I managed to push myself hard enough to actually approach the puke threshold. I'm sure my icky stomach could be partially to blame for this phenomenon, but I definitely DID leave everything I had in me out on the course this morning. I didn't have an ounce of energy left in me after I crossed that finish line. Considering how badly I wanted to give up throughout much of the race, I'm extremely proud that I sucked it up and found a way to hold on.

4. Somehow--and I don't even know how this is possible--I ended up finishing 9th place female. SAY WHAAAAA? I cracked the Top-10, baby! Now, as I mentioned before, this is a "no frills" race and there are no awards (nor age groups). But according to the standings, I finished 9th out of 90 women and 57th overall (out of 194 runners). Um, looks like all of the fast ladies must have stayed in bed this morning . . . but hey, I'll take it!! Sure beats those races back in NYC where I would inevitably finish in something like 394th place in my gender!

5. I can't wait to smoke today's time and earn myself a course record at next month's race! ;)

Thanks for reading, y'all! Hope you are enjoying the weekend!

*Having never been to the park before, we were a little bit worried about figuring out where to go; but everything was super easy and clearly marked. There was even a really friendly man out directing the parking. He asked us whether we'd been there before and welcomed us when we said we were new. He pointed out where everything was, from registration, to restrooms, to the start area. It was such a nice touch. We felt like VIPs!!

**I was pretty shocked that a race that cost $1 to enter--and aims to raise money for the park it is run in--offered Gatorade at the end. How could they afford to do so on $1 a head?! Well, apparently the Austin Marathon--which was run back in February--donated their leftover Gatorade and cups to this race series. How cool is that?! By the end of the race, the thought of Gatorade made me want to vomit; but still, it was a very cool surprise!

Memory Lane . . .

2011-03-15T21:50:00.005-04:00

You guys! Guess what Wilson and I just found?! Well, remember back over a year ago when I said there was a video that went along with my Goofy Challenge Race Report? Yup. That is what we found. Ah, memories! It makes me want to go back and do it all over again (but maybe without falling on my face this time around)! At any rate, here is my post-Goofy interview. Enjoy! :)

Two Black Cats . . .

2011-03-10T12:32:00.003-05:00

Image: http://www.toonpool.com/cartoons/Black%20Cat%2002_13987

Wilson and I were out for a blissful 5.5-mile run the other night, when two--yes, TWO--black cats crossed our very path. Now, I know there are cultures that consider black cats to be harbingers of good luck . . . but everything I've ever seen/heard has suggested otherwise. When I somehow managed to dump a huge glass of seltzer water all over my laptop later on that night, I began to get worried. After all, I WAS still waiting to hear back about a job I had been through three long interviews for. The last thing I needed was (double?) bad luck on my side!

Well, the bad news is that my laptop's keyboard is totally FRIED despite our best efforts to salvage it. The good news, though, is that I will soon be able to replace said laptop using my very own shiny, new paychecks! Yes, that's right. The nightmare that was our never-ending unemployment saga is finally over. I was offered the job I've been up for yesterday and I accepted it without hesitation. It's a techie job, which I find hilarious . . . I guess I just never thought I'd find myself in a tech position. But hey, it's a job, it pays (decently), and I'll make it work! The semi-bad news is that it's a night/weekend gig, so I'm still trying to work out what that will mean for my running schedule*. But hey, if I managed to figure it out at the old law firm job--where I essentially worked both the "day shift" AND the "night shift" (and more often than not, the "weekend shift" too)--I can't help but feel like figuring this one out should be a cinch! ;)

Speaking of which, running has been going just swimmingly! Wilson and I have been running regularly and even threw in an 8-mile long run last weekend. It was ah-mazing! I felt strong enough to really push it through the last mile, so I was definitely very pleased. At this point, we're still working on building our mileage back up, but I am definitely getting VERY excited about the prospect of adding speed-work back into our routine sometime soon. Have I lost my mind?! Perhaps . . . but whatever the case, I am seriously jonesing for some speed!!

Well, that and apparently some ultra fun. Hehe, I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I am highly considering tackling El Scorcho 50K on July 17. Because what could possibly be more fun than running from midnight until sun up? In July? In the Texas heat? We shall see whether the new job will allow for time off, but if so, I'm pretty sure I'll be toeing the line at my first ultra-marathon come July!

Alright, well I'm going to wrap this up now so I can get right to work catching up on what y'all have been up to . . . but thank you so, so much for your kind and encouraging words. They've helped more than you can imagine! I'm sure I'll have some deep thoughts about this whole experience at some point in the not too distant future; but for now, let me just say that I think I've decided that black cats really ARE good luck :)

*You know you're a running nerd when: you don't worry AT ALL about how your social life will suffer as a result of working the night/weekend shift, but DO worry constantly about how you are going to figure out your training/racing schedule!

Quick Update . . .

2011-02-17T02:46:00.008-05:00

Thank you all for bearing with me during this seriously wacky point in my life. I can't believe it has been almost a month since that last post (it seems like it's been a few days, at most!). But alas, here we are. I keep thinking I should have more time than ever to blog right now, seeing as how I'm unemployed . . . but somehow, the days fly by and there never seems to be enough time in the day. Go figure.

So where does the time go? Well, for starters, we're still working on the job thing . . . so that's been more or less monopolizing our lives as of late. I know it's probably healthy to take a break from it every once in a while; but there's a part of me that fears that any second I take away from job-hunting, cover letter-writing, resume-updating, networking, etc. could be the second that I miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime. I've had a few interviews that haven't amounted to anything and I'm still in the running for one other job. But Wilson hasn't found anything at all yet. **Sigh**. Each week that passes gets more and more depressing, and I get more and more desperate for basically anything that would pay. Take the job I'm up for now: It's something I would never consider were we not in such a crazy situation right now. It's a law(ish) job (ugh), but it's a weekends/night shift kind of thing. So my hours would be 4 p.m.-1 a.m. and I would have to work on weekends. It's not exactly what I was hoping for (and not exactly the best schedule for someone who loves training for and running races) . . . but I guess desperate times call for desperate measures.

On the upside, running has been going a little better as of late. Not great, but I'm getting out there probably 3-4 times a week, which is an improvement. I'm in crappy shape and it hurts, but I know I have to get through this rough patch to get back to the place where running is magical and dreamy (at least most of the time). I did learn recently about a "No Frills" 5K series in the area that takes place once a month and only costs $1 (1 FREAKING DOLLAR!!) to race in. That has definitely given me something to look forward to and some motivation to get training. I'm also starting to think about the New York City Marathon coming up in November, and I really want to make sure I have an AWESOME base going into training for that one. So I'm happy to report that my motivation is improving steadily!

On the days that I'm not running, I've been making an effort to get some form of movement in, whether it's going for a hike, playing tennis, doing some body weight resistance training (push-ups, squats, hip extensions, lunges, planks, bench dips, etc.) or vigorously cleaning the entire apartment (totally counts!). I REALLY want to get back to lifting weights as well, so I think Wilson and I are going to sign up for a membership at Planet Fitness in the next couple of days. As much as I tend to be a gym snob--and as much as I REALLY don't want to support a gym chain that makes use of a "Lunk Alarm" (seriously?!)--I figure I should probably just suck it up and sign up, considering it costs $10 a month and it's a month-to-month contract. You better believe I will be out of there as soon as one of us snatches up a job. But for the time-being, we'll make it work.

In other news, some jerk stole a bunch of my running clothes out of the laundry center at our apartment complex. REALLY?! Who does that?! At the present time, I have identified 4 sports bras and 2 pairs of running shorts that are missing (along with who knows what else that I haven't noticed yet). And somehow, this person seemed to know exactly which items were my favorites . . . because the items that are missing are those that were always the nearest and dearest to my heart. You know the items you turn to time and time again when planning your race day outfit? The loyal shorts that stay ever-so-nicely in place? The comfy sports bra that never attempts to chafe/saw your boobs off? Yup, that's exactly what this jerk-face stole. In a matter of minutes I went from having 3 of those trusty sports bras and 3 of those perfect pairs of shorts down to just one of each. GRRR. Well, lesson learned. I guess I will not leave my laundry unattended in the laundry room ever again. And hey, at least it will be that much easier to pick out my race-day outfits from now on!

To end this on a happy note, here is a photo of Wilson and I in front of the Texas Capitol on Valentine's Day.

I'm not typically a huge V-Day fan, but we DID have a pretty nice evening, all things considered. First of all, it was a gorgeous day as you can tell from our attire--in the mid-70s!! We splurged and went out to dinner at a cute but inexpensive restaurant in an adorable old house. The food was to die for and the place scored extra points because it had its own vegetable garden on site (LOVE!). We haven't been doing much eating out lately, and while I was a little hesitant at first, I'm glad Wilson made reservations and insisted on taking me out. Eastside Cafe will for sure be a favorite of ours if/when we get back to the point of being able to afford eating out! After our meal, we decided to stop by the Texas Capitol, since it looks SO beautiful all lit up at night. Thus, the photo of us above. Then, we ended the night with some fantastically crappy tv. Not bad at all!

Well, that's all I have for now. I'm going to try to get a post up about my thoughts on the new Boston Marathon registration process sometime in the next couple days . . . so stay tuned for that. Also, the Austin Marathon is on Sunday! I'm quite sad I won't be running it, but still very excited to get to participate in the weekend's events. We're debating whether we should volunteer for the race or just spectate and be the best cheerleaders ever. To be honest, the call times ranging from 4 a.m. to 5:30 a.m. will probably lead us to go with the latter, but I'll be sure to post a report either way!

The state of my running (or lack thereof)

2011-01-21T16:01:00.002-05:00

So, first of all, a quick but heart-felt THANK YOU to the handful of you still out there in blogland! I'm honestly blown away that anyone even bothered to finish that long and tedious post! But seriously, thank you. Y'all are the best.

Now, onto the state of my running. Well, let's just say that I haven't been lacing up the running shoes as often as I ought to be, considering this is the only season in Central Texas where you can run without sweating buckets! Sadly, the motivation to run just hasn't been there. I'd be willing to bet this lack of motivation stems from the fact that I have approximately ZERO races penciled in at this point. Don't get me wrong, I still LOVE and dearly miss racing . . . it's just that Wilson and I really can't justify paying (ever-climbing) race fees at the moment, considering our financial situation. We still make it out to run every once in a while, but not nearly often enough.

So, I am wondering . . . does anyone else find it all but impossible to get motivated without races
on the horizon? If so, what do you do to snap yourself out of it? I'd love to hear any strategies you might have to offer . . .

Another Year Gone . . .

2011-01-10T14:05:00.014-05:00

Well. It looks like I *ALMOST* managed to make it an entire year without posting; not that I'm proud of that fact or anything. But in my defense, life HAS been kind of chaotic as of late. Looking back, I'm pretty sure that my hesitation to post stemmed from the fact that I REALLY wanted to wait until I was sure things were on the upswing before admitting to some of the crazy stuff that has gone on over the past year. After all, who doesn't love a happy ending? But last night (as I lay wide awake at 5 a.m.), I had a thought: Maybe I should be posting about this stuff NOW. After all, I'm pretty sure there are quite a number of folks out there in similar situations. And who knows? Maybe--just maybe--it would help those people to know that they aren't alone. Then, there's the fact that I'm pretty sure that Wilson and I MUST be approaching some kind of turning point in life; and if that turns out to be the case, wouldn't it be nice to have a record of it? So, here I am . . . back from the blogging dead (again). I'm not quite sure whether anyone is still out there; but if you are, prepare yourself for the longest post in Irish Cream history!

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Where do I even start? Well, I guess we should start with the point at which I left off: I had some exciting news to share (man, what a cliffhanger!). Well, the big news was that I had been offered a job at an upscale, big-name gym, just a few blocks from my apartment in Brooklyn. My instructor at school (who had brought in a recruiter from the company to interview any of us who were interested in the possibility of working for the gym) basically guaranteed me that it would be a great place to work. It was a dream come true!! Or so I thought . . .

Instead, the job turned out to be a disaster from the very start. Lets just say that the gym's management left a little something to be desired (understatement of the century, but whatever). Now, in all honesty, I probably should have known this would be the case when one of my potential managers scheduled a final interview with me and then didn't bother to show up to work that day (or when the same thing happened AGAIN upon arriving for my scheduled appointment to fill out new hire paperwork) . . . but a) I was really trying to keep an open mind, and b) hindsight is 20/20, isn't it? Well, I made it about 3 months before I got sick and tired of not getting paid (my minimum wage rate) on time (or at all), and figured I owed it to myself to call it quits before I got into another situation like I was in at the law gig. So that was that.

At that point (early May), knowing our lease would be ending in a little over two months, Wilson* and I had a decision to make: Should we sign another 12-month lease in one of the most expensive cities in the world, despite the fact that neither of us was gainfully employed? Or should we attempt to make a move somewhere else (preferably less expensive) in the world? We grappled with this question for quite some time; but in the end, we decided it was probably time to move on and start our lives over elsewhere. After all, I had saved up a pretty huge sum of money while working in law . . . but, if worse came to worst, we knew that large sum would go MUCH further somewhere cheaper than NYC.

So Wilson began applying to animation companies wherever he could find them . . . Vancouver, Seattle, Dallas, San Francisco, Chicago, Los Angeles, Austin, Jacksonville, Greenwich, CT. Our Plan-A was basically to go wherever he found employment (after all, I can do what I do anywhere; but there are only a handful of cities that offer animation gigs). Of course, aware that the economy was sucking, we also knew we had to make a Plan-B (in case Wilson didn't find a job before we had to vacate our Brooklyn apartment). So, after much deliberation, we decided Plan-B would be to move to Austin, Texas. Austin was a place we'd visited a while back and had simply ADORED (see here). Not to mention, we knew it was a popular spot for video game animation (an area Wilson wasreally interested in pursuing). Well--whadyaknow--six weeks passed without Wilson finding a job, and we eventually came to the conclusion that it was time to move forward with Plan-B. So, we got in touch with an apartment locating agency in Austin (thanks, Yelp!) and asked them to find us an apartment within our (rather low) price range. Well, bless our apartment dude's heart . . . he found us some really fantastic options!! And after stalling for as long as we could (on the off chance Wilson was offered a job elsewhere, at the last minute), we eventually signed a lease at one of the complexes, sight unseen.

Once we signed that lease, we considered Austin to be a done deal. Wilson changed his job search focus to Austin alone, and I worked diligently, trying to figure out all of the rather complicated details that a cross-country move entails (this was especially time-consuming considering we were attempting a cross-country move out of NYC--without a car--and on a pretty tight budget, to boot). We sold most of our worldly belongings (HUGE pain in the butt, btw). We packed the rest (our couch, books, kitchen stuff, and clothing) onto a moving truck in 100+ degree weather, without so much as an ounce of food or drink.** We ate dinners on the floor of our apartment. We visited all of our favorite NYC hang-outs one last time. We sipped champagne out of plastic cups.*** We ate, drank, and partied with great friends until the wee hours of the very morning we were scheduled to leave (always a BRILLIANT idea when you have a 14+ hour drive ahead of you . . . but I don't regret it for a second!). And when all was said and done, we bid farewell to NYC on the morning of July 31, 2010.

So long, NYC!

Now, in an ideal world, we could have driven straight to Texas, stopping for a night or two on the way. Unfortunately, though, our apartment in Austin wasn't being vacated until August 15. This meant we had to find a place to stay for a couple weeks until our new apartment would be ready. Thank goodness my parents are saints and generously offered to let us stay at their winter home in South Carolina during this gap! Otherwise, I'm not quite sure what we would have done . . .

Our stay in South Carolina was relaxing and fun. For the first time in several months, we were able to decompress a bit and truly enjoy ourselves. We swam in the lake behind my parents' house as often as we could, caught up on episodes of our new favorite TV show, Breaking Bad (SO GOOD!), grilled out, watched scary movies, went to minor league baseball games in nearby Greenville, spent a fair amount of time cuddling (schmoopy, I know), and we even got to spend a few days with my older sister and 5-year old niece (who came up from Beaufort to stay with us). Needless to say, our time in SC was pure heaven after all the craziness of attempting to orchestrate a cross-country move.

Me, enjoying a "big boss" (aka, delicious hunk of meat) at the Greenville Drive game

After two glorious weeks on the lake in SC, it was time for Wilson and I to continue on our journey. On the way, though, we made a brilliant decision to stop for a couple nights in New Orleans. Neither of us had ever been . . . and we found some REALLY cheap hotel rates (it was the SWELTERING off-season, after all). Plus, we figured it would break up the 18-hour drive from my parents' place to Austin quite nicely.

Oh man, did we have fun in New Orleans!! We managed to fit in a RIDICULOUS amount of deliciousness . . . drinks ranging from pimm's cup, to hurricanes, to hand grenades, to absinthe . . . and eats ranging from muffaletta, to cajun fried chicken, to shrimp creole, to seafood gumbo, to rabbit & sausage jambalaya, to red beans & rice, to alligator and crawfish po-boys, to beignets & chicory coffee from Cafe Du Monde.**** We also managed to fit in a very fun Russian vodka bar, dueling pianos at Pat O'Brien's, a lot of exploration/photo time, and a really cool ghost tour. Needless to say, we loved it and made a mental note to return to NOLA ASAP!

Cute photo I took of Wilson, trying to find some shade while exploring New Orleans (it was HOT!)

Enjoying my first ever hand grenade on Bourbon Street

We were sad to see our time in New Orleans come to an end; but at the same time, we were VERY anxious to get to Austin and check out our new digs.

Crossing the Texas state line!!

After an 8-9 hour drive, we arrived "home" to our apartment in Austin . . . and it was perfect. It wasn't the newest or most luxurious complex in town, but the location was FANTASTIC. It was about 100 yards from the Barton Creek Greenbelt (a great location for trail-running, hiking and mountain-biking); not to mention, just a mile or so from Zilker Park (home of Austin City Limits) and a few minutes drive (or a quick bike ride!) to downtown.

The Barton Creek Greenbelt, our new backyard!

More greenbelt . . .

And still more greenbelt . . .

AND? Our apartment (which worked out to cost just over ONE-THIRD of what we paid for our place in NYC) included a dishwasher, a nice kitchen with new-ish appliances, a linen closet, a big pantry, a good-sized balcony (with storage closet), a HUGE walk in closet, a community pool, tennis courts, sand volleyball court, a small fitness center, and on-site laundry (none of which was available in our shoebox apartment in Brooklyn!). We immediately wondered why the heck we hadn't thought to leave NYC sooner!

Of course, everything wasn't 100% peaches and cream. We had no internet (nor smart phones, nor a phone book) for several days, and we had to figure out how the heck to get around a city we were new to. Um, for the record? This is hard, y'all. We ended up calling parents, siblings, friends, etc., and begging them to look stuff up for us ALL. THE. TIME. We were SO annoying. Also annoying? The fact that we had to unload all of our crap from the truck we'd packed it on (again, from a sketch moving terminal) and transfer it back to our new apartment. And since we'd gotten to Austin on a Sunday (moving terminal = closed on Sunday), we had to sleep on the floor for a night (OUCH--I am seriously too old for that crap).

I will say, unloading the truck was a million times easier than the loading part (which was great news, considering it was 109 degrees outside the day we did it). I think we also must have learned a thing or two from our experience on the front end . . . because we somehow managed to unload the truck using just THREE trips back-and-forth (as opposed to the FOUR trips it took us to get the truck loaded in the first place). Granted, our strategy in Austin involved crushing me under massive boxes and haphazardly tying our couch cushions to the roof of the car (we like to call this strategy, "whatever the hell it takes to get this sh*t over with ASAP") . . . but hey, the important thing is that we got it done fast! And at that point, we were more than ready for the move to be OVER (I mean, we HAD been at it--in some form or another--for almost a month by that time!).

Hiding under a stack of (heavy!) boxes. The 20 minutes it took to get to our apartment from the moving terminal seemed like an ETERNITY!

Once unpacked and somewhat settled, we spent the first several months in Austin exploring our new city.

Enjoying a cold beverage at Bat Fest, a super fun street festival dedicated to the colony of bats that lives under the South Congress Bridge in Austin

Wilson, sampling chicken fried bacon at Bat Fest. I had no idea such a monstrosity existed . . .

Me, at Bat Fest, with my chopped beef sandwich (with extra jalapenos, of course!)

Wilson and his ice cream at Bat Fest

Showing off my new cowboy boot koozie

First trip to Salt Lick (best barbecue EVER)!!

You know you're in Texas when . . .
Entering the Round Rock Express minor league baseball stadium

Wilson and I at the Round Rock Express game

Enjoying a drink on our balcony

Wilson, chillaxing on the balcony with his g&t

Nico (our cat), trying to steal Wilson's string cheese

Me, rocking out in our apartment

Gruene Hall, the oldest dance hall in Texas!

My cute boyfriend, lounging around at the Gruene Music & Wine Festival

Me and Laura (one of my college roomies who currently lives in Dallas) at the Gruene Wine & Music Festival.

Texas friends (Me, Wilson, Laura, Chelsea & Michael) at Salt Lick BBQ after spending the day at the Gruene Music & Wine Festival

The Zilker Park Christmas tree

Wilson and I inside the Zilker tree

Throughout those first months in Austin, we also had a TON of traveling to do, including:

A trip back to Chicago/NW Indiana/SW Michigan to a) help my parents move, b) attend a Notre Dame football game, and c) run the Chicago Half-Marathon (the day after having tailgated my face off--worst/most bad-ass decision EVER!)

A good friend's wedding in Massachusetts.

Wilson and I, dancing the night away at Megan & Noah's wedding . . .

ANOTHER cross-country driving trip (our third in 9 months) back to NJ to return Wilson's father's car, which he had generously allowed us to borrow to move down to Texas

A Thanksgiving trip back to my parents' place in SC (where we also picked up an old car of theirs to borrow until we purchase a vehicle of our own . . . thanks, Mom & Dad!!).*****

WHEW. Considering we had all that stuff going on, we were not exactly in a huge hurry to secure jobs. We figured it best to wait until things settled down a bit, seeing as how it's not exactly ideal to go into a job and immediately request all kinds of time off. But still, we kept an eye out for any opportunities that might be too good to pass on.

During that time, Wilson DID secure an interview with a pretty great video game animation company in the Austin area; but sadly, they ended up giving the job to someone else. This was a bit of a bummer, but we figured there were better things to come. Shortly thereafter, Wilson DID end up receiving job offers from one place in Seattle and another in Dallas, but considering neither of them were ideal situations (no relocation package offered, short term work, lower pay, etc.), we figured it better to stick with Austin.

I received a job offer in Austin around Thanksgiving, but I ultimately declined it, since it was WAY below the salary-range I was looking for (almost to the point of being insulting) . . . and I just wasn't sure I could deal with working alone with the ONE individual I would be working with. Plus, it was one of the first jobs I applied to. I (erroneously) assumed that if I had landed an offer that quickly, I should have no trouble finding something else.

WRONG-O. Fast-forward a couple months to the present. Wilson and I are desperately spending just about every minute of every day searching for jobs . . . and it's exhausting. I have done everything I can think of: whoring myself out to the Notre Dame alumni network, "connecting" with everyone I know on Linked in (and even upgrading to a premier membership), applying to job ads, sending out cold resumes, submitting my resume to temp agencies. I even found an ex-supervisor and a fellow ND alum with connections in Austin who were both kind enough to look into opportunities for me. But sadly, nothing has come of it.

I wish I could put into words how demoralizing this whole process has been. I have had friends and family tell me over an over again that I am an intelligent, talented individual and that my trouble securing something says nothing about my worth . . . but rather, makes a more general statement about just how bad things are out there. I know they're probably right . . . but still, it's exceedingly difficult to not lose hope and/or confidence in your abilities when it's THIS difficult to find work. I do have a couple side projects I have been working on (a couple shops I opened on Etsy.com, including one where I sell some of my photography); unfortunately, they just haven't brought in much income.

Wilson has been receiving unemployment since he was laid off about a year ago . . . and he has also managed to find a few days of freelance work, here and there. Besides that, though, we have basically watched our hard-earned savings dwindle down to a fraction of what it used to be. Now, don't get me wrong . . . I feel super blessed that we had a decent net of savings to fall back on. I know many people haven't been that lucky. At the same time, though, we were hoping to put that money towards a house . . . and a wedding . . . and children. And now, it just feels like we're moving further and further away from those things each day that we don't find work. It sucks, to say the least.

All this being said, I do want to reiterate that I am still REALLY glad we made the move down here. We absolutely, positively LOVE Austin, and we are quite excited about the prospect of raising a family here (way down the road, that is). I have no doubt in my mind that once we figure this job stuff out, we will be happier than we've ever been. And I am also confident that we will bounce back quickly from this rough patch. We have gotten so good at spending only what is absolutely necessary that I would imagine it will take us no time at all to get our savings back (and then some). But right now, things are just really hard, not knowing when this crazy period of our lives will end.

The one good thing I will say is that (minus a few stupid squabbles, which I think are inevitable given the stressful financial situation we are in), my relationship with Wilson has remained strong--and I would venture to say that it has actually gotten stronger. I am not sure how he's dealing with me at the moment, seeing as how I seem to teeter back and forth between complete & utter despair and giddy optimism. But I'm sure glad he puts up with me!

Alright, well I think I'm going to cut this off for now, as it is already way too long. But I'm sure I will have more thoughts to share soon. Maybe I will even talk about running--gasp!! In the meantime, though, please keep your fingers crossed that something works out for one (or both!) of us soon.

I hope you are all well. I can't wait to get caught up on the great things y'all have been up to once things finally settle down a bit!

Hugs to everyone!

*I should mention here that Wilson lost his job in NYC back in January, 2010. This was a pretty huge bummer because he had served the company very loyally for 3 years (too loyally, if you ask me--they never once offered him a raise or promotion of any kind) . . . and also, because he had been led to believe that they would hire him on as an animator when he graduated from animation school in June, 2010. Instead, they informed him that his services were no longer needed within an hour of arriving to work one day. They claimed that he had "lost some of his enthusiasm for the job." My question for them would be, "who wouldn't lose a bit of enthusiasm after doing grunt work for 3 years and receiving no discernible reward?"

**Because of the location of our apartment in Brooklyn, bringing a moving truck TO us just wasn't a possibility (there was nowhere to park it). Therefore, we had to make a bunch of trips back and forth, between our apartment and a super-sketch moving terminal, where our truck was parked. We had one day--and one day only--to do this. Unfortunately, it took us MUCH longer than we had planned (packing a truck and tying stuff down is NOT an easy task). This meant no time to stop for lunch . . . or even to refill our water bottles. UGH. In the end, we got our truck packed up with about 5 minutes to spare before the place closed; but let me just say, it was seriously one of the most grueling days of my life . . .

***We had been saving it for quite a while, thinking we would drink it once we had something to celebrate. Well, 1) we were moving and had to empty the 'fridge; and 2) what could possibly deserve celebration more than embarking on a cross-country journey with your best friend in the world and starting life over in a brand new place?

****When I posted this on facebook, I think my friends and family were horrified by the amount of food they assumed we had consumed in our 60 hours in NOLA. Sooo . . . I should mention that rather than eating 6 meals a day (as it would appear), we actually accomplished this by splitting things and ordering sample plates whenever possible!

*****On a side note, I should mention that I FINALLY got to meet Lindsay, of Chasing the Kenyans, while we were in town! We chatted, drank delicious coffee drinks, and even got to introduce our men to one another. It was so wonderful to finally get to meet her (and J!)!

Goofy's Race-And-A-Half Challenge: A Race Report - Part II

2010-02-02T08:15:00.002-05:00

Dang, yo. There has been all kinds of craziness happening in the life of Irish Cream as of late. But before I let too much escape me, I wanted to go ahead and complete my Goofy Race Report. I mean, it HAS been nearly a month since it took place . . . yeesh!

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Race morning once again came nice and early, with Wilson and I rising sometime around 3 a.m. We got ourselves ready, chowed down on some breakfast and were out the door before you could say, "Goofy." Once we stepped outside, it hit us . . . it was EFFING COLD OUT. OMG. The temps, as predicted, were hovering in the 20s with a "real feel" in the teens. Ouch. Luckily, I was wearing the warmest $4.00 size-XXL Grinch flannel pj pants EVER over my race clothes. As hideous as they may have been, they were truly toasty. I may or may not have shed a tear when I had to throw them away prior to the start . . . but I'm getting ahead of myself.

We zipped down I-4 and made it to Epcot in no time at all. Then came the difficult part . . . dropping trou in sub-freezing temps. I contemplated holding it, but finally sucked it up and went. By the time Wilson and I made it through the porta-potty line, it was just about time to head to the start area, knowing from experience that it was a good 20-minute walk to get there. Wilson hit up gear check on the way, and then we wandered through the dark with the masses of runners gearing up to run 26.2. I don't know about anyone else, but I always find the moments just before the start of a marathon to be SO incredible. I think part of it has to do with the fact that marathon training tends to be a lesson in solitude; that is, unless you are lucky enough to have lots of marathon runners in your life. But you all know how it is . . . you train for months and are more likely than not called "crazy" on countless occasions during those months. Then you finally make it to that start line and you are surrounded by people just like you. How incredible does it feel, knowing that those tens of thousands of people went through exactly what you went through to get there? It is truly awe-inspiring.

Anyway, we moseyed over to the start area, thinking we had oodles of time; only, once we got there, we realized that my assigned corral (Corral D), was actually part of the FIRST wave thanks to a split start. Wow, good thing I looked into that BEFORE the race. Oops. Talk about unprepared! Considering the National Anthem had already been sung while we were en route to the start area, we knew we didn't have much time before the gun went off. We found the corral and Wilson immediately hopped the fence, stumbled and fell. Luckily, he just scraped up his palms a little bit, but it was still scary. I, after seeing this, insisted on heading up to the actual entrance to the corral. After all, someone as clumsy as me has NO business hopping fences! This was a good idea in theory; however, once I saw the line of people at the entrance to the coral (where they were very diligently checking bibs) I went into panic mode. Ultimately, I decided to live on the edge and do a little fence-jumping myself. Somehow, I made it over that fence with the assistance of a kind runner man and found Wilson. Whew! We'd made it!

Shortly thereafter, the same video and fireworks from the half-marathon the day before went off--and holy Deja vu--it was like I was in my own personal version of Groundhog Day! Only this time, I had Wilson with me, video-taping everything that happened with his trusty Flip camera. Before we knew it, we were moving! And holy crap, it was weird. Our feet were literally frozen after being out in the cold for so long prior to the start. And let me tell you, it was really hard to run with ice blocks for feet! Luckily, within a mile-and-a-half or so, they seemed to thaw up a bit. Of course, shortly thereafter--somewhere around the 1.8-mile mark--I had a bit of an "incident". We were running through the entrance gate area for the parking lot at Epcot, and Wilson dropped back to take a video of the scene. I kept looking behind me to see where he'd escaped to since it was PITCH black, and I was convinced I was going to lose him. All of a sudden, BAM!!! I was on the ground. The collective gasps all around me were enough to let me know that it looked REALLY bad. Somehow, though, I managed to spring right back up onto my feet. I looked back again to see what had led to my fall . . . a frickin' speed bump! Incidentally, there WERE gate attendants hanging out all around, telling us runners to watch our steps. But I didn't really notice that until AFTER I'd fallen, since I'd been so preoccupied with trying to find Wilson. Oopsies. Just as I turned back, Wilson came running up and said, "Did you just fall down?" Yes sir! We were off to a GREAT start.*

Mile-1: 10:54
Mile-2: 11:14

As we hit the Mile-2 mark, I assessed the damage of my fall. I'd tweaked my left wrist a bit, my palms were scraped up and my knees were REALLY banged up--especially my right knee. In fact, I could tell my knees were so torn up that it was best not to pull my pant leg up and check. I figured it was better to wait until after I finished the race before I took a look. Still, I was okay . . . and I counted my lucky stars that such a hard fall hadn't caused a more serious injury. On we ran, albeit slowly, as I tried to get back into some kind of a groove. This, however, was easier said than done . . . especially since the course seemed REALLY crowded; probably because just after mile-3, the split start groups had come back together, so there were twice as many people as there had been for the first three miles. We jogged on, passing people whenever we could, if for no other reason than to get a little room to breathe!

Mile-3: 10:48
Mile-4: 11:13

By Mile-5, I was in pain. My right knee was throbbing with every step and I could tell that it had swollen up pretty good. In fact, I was so preoccupied with the pain that I don't even remember much about the next few miles. We kept moving (slowly), but I was NOT a happy camper. Wilson tried to cheer me up, and I did my best to oblige, but I was really hurting. I started to wonder how on earth I would make it through 20+ more miles. Another crazy thing I started noticing around this point was that the aid stations had turned into all out ice-skating rinks. Apparently the spilled water was freezing over, making for some pretty hazardous conditions. Wilson and I would slow WAY down every time we made our way through an aid station, just to be on the safe side. The last thing either of us needed was ANOTHER fall!

Mile-5: 11:33 (gel break)
Mile-6: 10:26
Mile-7: 10:38

The next few miles were truly miserable. We were on service roads outside of the parks, I was hurting pretty badly and we still had 3 miles to go before we would make it to the Magic Kingdom. In fact, by this point, I had developed a hint of a limp. I remembered an article I'd read once that said you shouldn't finish a run/race if you are limping. So I focused on trying to NOT limp. On top of the knee issue, I could NOT for the life of me get comfortable temperature-wise. I would get warm and push my sleeves up, only to get cold two minutes later and push the sleeves back down. I'd unzip my half-zip top, only to zip it back up 30 seconds later. It was more than a little irritating. But still, I am nothing if not stubborn . . . and knowing I had TWO medals on the line was more than enough to keep me going. On we schlepped, praying for the Magic Kingdom to come soon!

Mile-8: 10:09
Mile-9: 10:23
Mile-10: 11:24 (gel break/Wilson pee break)

Finally, we hit the Mile-10 mark and entered the Magic Kingdom. Perhaps I was simply grumpy on account of my fall and subsequent injuries, but for some reason, it just didn't seem as cool as it had the day before. I kept telling Wilson how much cooler everything had looked in the dark. Luckily, he seemed to really enjoy the mile that ran through the MK despite my foul mood. He stopped on countless occasions and took videos of the various characters and attractions. Of course, this made me nervous, since I was convinced I was going to lose him. And knowing what bad shape I was in, I was pretty sure that I'd be done if I lost him. But somehow, we made it through the Magic Kingdom without losing one another.

Mile-11: 10:20

After exiting the MK, we embarked on another LOOOONG trek between the parks. I started to get really excited about making it to the half-way mark. But still, it was uber crowded, and a lot of the roadways we were running on were super narrow. The one good thing was that there was really a lot of crowd support. I can't tell you how many times I heard people yell out "Go Goofy!" when I ran by (the Goofy Challengers had unique bibs). This gave me a boost every time. In fact, I'm not sure if it was the crowd support or what, but somewhere near the half-way point, my knee even started to feel a little bit better.

Mile-12: 10:15
Mile-13: 10:22

We ended up crossing the half-way point at 2:21:30, and to be honest, I freaked a little bit. As much as I knew we were trying to take the race easy and have fun with it, I thought back to my secret wish to PR in the marathon. At this point, it looked like that goal was out the window, considering I'd crossed the half-way point almost ten minutes faster during the Chicago Marathon (my prior marathon PR). Oh well, guess I'd just have to have fun with the rest of the race. But not long after I'd resigned myself to the idea, Wilson and I got separated at an aid station just past mile-14. Wilson stopped to get some water, and I kept going but slowed to a walk to allow him to catch up to me. When several minutes passed and I still hadn't seen him, I knew we were in trouble. And to make matters worse? Wilson had been carrying one of my gels in his shorts pocket. Crappers. Eventually, enough time had passed that I was convinced that Wilson must have passed right by me without me noticing . . . after all, he WAS wearing the same thing as 90% of the race field: black tights with black shorts over them and the white long-sleeved race tee. I took off in an attempt to catch up with him.

Mile-14: 10:45 (gel break)
Mile-15: 10:35

As I ran on, I came to realize I probably wasn't going to find Wilson. In the past, I would have been beyond bummed about this. In fact, I likely would have allowed it to ruin the race for me. But instead, I thought about how awesome it would be if I finished strong despite so many hiccups early on. After all, I was still feeling pretty good. The knee had been downgraded to just a dull ache. I was getting a little bit tired, but I told myself that if I just made it to mile-18 before walking, that would be good enough. As I ran on, the course cleared up a little bit, making for a much more pleasant running environment. That, and the sun came out and felt awesome beating down on us. I was finally back to my happy running place :)

Mile-16: 9:59
Mile-17: 9:53
Mile-18: 9:17

While I had promised myself that I could walk if I made it to mile-18, I got to that point and I actually WANTED to keep running. My last split had been pretty stellar and it had felt REALLY good. Plus, somewhere around this point, we got to run through Animal Kingdom, which was a definite highlight for me. For whatever reason, I was passing people left and right as we ran through Animal Kingdom. That, combined with the awesome cheering of some Animal Kingdom employees propelled me on and gave me a huge boost. Oh, I should also mention that just before entering the Animal Kingdom, I had managed to procure an on course gel to replace the one Wilson had run off with. That was a HUGE relief for me. It wasn't a Roctane, but it would do. As I stopped to gel up after leaving the Animal Kingdom, I came up with a new strategy--a bit of an experiment, really. Basically, I wanted to push myself and see how long I could hold on. I decided that if I could just hold on until the 20-mile mark, I would be thrilled; but in reality, I started to think that maybe--just maybe--I could hold on until the end.

Mile-19: 10:14 (gel break)
Mile-20: 9:05

I crossed a timing mat at the Mile-20 marker, which prompted me to check my time at that point. I looked down and saw 3:30:59 staring back at me. Holy. Crap. I realized at that point that if I could hold on and keep my pace at 10:00 miles or faster, I could actually earn myself I nice new marathon PR along with my two shiny medals! This motivated me like nothing else. I thought of how awesome it would be to say that I ran the Goofy Challenge and PR'd at both distances. Suddenly, what had started as the ultimate pipe dream was within my reach . . . and I knew right then and there that there was no way I would let it escape. Miles 21-22 passed pretty quickly as they consisted of a nice out-and-back stretch. By this point, I felt the strongest I had felt all race. As I hit the turn around point, I kept my eyes peeled for Wilson coming in the other direction. No luck, but I WAS passing people left and right, and that felt AWESOME. I looked down when we hit the Mile-21 marker and saw my first sub-9 split. I was CONVINCED it had to be wrong. How on earth had I just pulled off a sub-9 split at mile-34.1 of the Goofy Challenge?!

Mile-21: 8:57
Mile-22: 9:14

On I went, and before I knew it, I'd arrived at Hollywood Studios. This was super exciting, as I knew the remainder of the course would be in/around the parks. The crowds were thick and crazy supportive. Everywhere I looked runners were slowing to a walk, or pulling off course to stretch, but I was feeling really strong. Sure, I was tired . . . but I had a PR to earn, thank you very much! I stopped for one last gel break during Mile-23, just to give me an extra boost throughout the last few miles. But from that point on? I was all business. I didn't so much as stop to take a sip of water during the last 3-4 miles.

Mile-23: 9:24 (gel break)
Mile-24: 8:52

As I approached the mile-25 marker, I did get super excited about the possibility of seeing my favorite Redhead and Spike, who were stationed somewhere in the area, complete with balloons and bright yellow posters. Somehow, though--and I still don't understand how this happened--she never saw me, and I never saw her. Perhaps I was a little more out of it than I thought by that point? Whatever the case, once I made it to somewhere around mile-25.5, I knew I must have missed them. Thus, what else was there to do but to pick the pace up and push myself toward the finish? As I did so, I decided that PRing wasn't enough. I REALLY wanted to finish in less than 4:30.

Somehow, despite everything that had gone down, I managed to pull off my fastest mile of the day during that last mile. I have NEVER had enough energy left in a marathon to do that . . . and holy crap, was it an amazing feeling to go flying towards the finish line! I started hurting pretty badly with about a half-mile to go, but I was so close I could taste it. There was no way I was backing down now! I crossed the line in 4:28:21 and smiled the biggest smile EVER.

Mile-25: 9:18
Mile-26: 8:47
Last 0.52 (according to Garmin): 4:23 (8:24 pace)

I could NOT believe what I had accomplished. Somehow, I had pulled off a negative split by nearly 15 minutes . . . after falling on my face . . . after having run a half-marathon the previous day. Even to this day, I do not know what possessed me to push it so hard that day. I only hope whatever it was sticks around and joins me in future races!

Once I finished, I snagged my mylar blanket and my marathon medal . . . and then I made my way to the Goofy tent to collect my third Goofy medal. I was so proud, I was almost brought to tears. To think that just a few years earlier, I had thought I'd never be able to run a marathon . . . and here I was, a Goofy Challenge finisher! It was awesome to say the least. I had my official finisher photo taken, grabbed some food and then tried to figure out what to do about finding Wilson. I figured the best idea would be to wait for him outside of his assigned gear check tent, knowing he'd have to collect his things after finishing. But I waited . . . and I waited . . . and I started to worry that he might have finished ahead of me. So I made my way over to the appropriate family meet-up tent where he had mentioned we would meet his mother after the race. I looked everywhere, but there was no sign of Wilson. Damn. I stood, shivering for a good 20 minutes before he finally came walking up. And holy crap was I happy to see him--he had the car keys in his gear check bag! I begged him to let me go to the car despite the fact that we had not yet located his mother. I was just SO COLD, I couldn't bear to be outside another second! Luckily, we were much more successful at finding the car than we had been the previous day. We hopped in, BLASTED the heat and I attacked my food baggie with everything I had left in me :)

As I began to thaw out, I began to realize just how painful my knees were. Ouch. I finally took a peak at them, only to realize they were both cut up and bruised pretty badly . . . and my right knee was pretty darn swollen. Yowsers. I couldn't believe I had gone on to run a PR on those suckers! Ha. Once Wilson finally got in touch with his mother, she came and congratulated us and took a couple photos . . . then we headed back to the hotel, anxious to take a hot shower and get some hot food in us. We opted for some "dirty food" from Applebees, as Wilson called it (beer, artichoke dip and burgers--yum!). I figured that after running 39.3 miles in two days, I'd probably earned it :)

After stuffing our bellies nearly to the point of discomfort, we headed back to the hotel and vegged/napped for the remainder of the day. Other than my banged up knees, I actually felt great . . . not even a hint of muscle soreness. HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? I don't know, but I might just have to hop on the back-to-back long run bandwagon come my next training period!

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Whew! Okay, so now that that's out of the way, I have a big announcement coming up soon. Those of you who are friends with me on Facebook already know, but let's just say that it's quite a good one :) Thank you again for being so amazingly understanding about my recent absence from the blogosphere . . . I should be back soon, I promise! And while my Google Reader is far too out of control for me to pretend like I can get caught up with everyone, I should at least be back to commenting very soon. I've said this a million times, but wow, I've missed you guys! Until next time . . .

*Unfortunately, Wilson JUST MISSED catching this episode on video. If only he'd kept taping for another few seconds, I'd have video evidence of my spill. Oh well, there's always next time!

Goofy's Race-and-a-Half Challenge: A Race Report - Part 1

2010-01-12T18:12:00.008-05:00

First of all, let's go waaaay back . . . back to July 7, 2009 (also known as the day I went temporarily insane and decided to register for the Goofy Challenge at Disney World). I had NO CLUE at that point in time that I would soon quit my job and embark on this big ol' journey of mine to Orlando. Don't get me wrong; it worked out quite nicely given that I didn't have to worry about travel expenses or taking time off. But let's just say that if I would have known I'd be training for Goofy while working out pretty intensely 5 days a week (at times, twice a day), I never would have registered. The fact is, I was signed up, I'd paid the money . . . and DARN IT, I was going to get those three medals if it killed me!

Wilson and I hit up the Expo on Thursday evening in a desperate attempt to beat the crowds. Turns out this was smart thinking, as we were in and out of there in under 45 minutes. We first hit up the Goofy Challenge check-in area, where a kind gentleman presented me with my bibs, chips and some Goofy souvenirs; I then signed my life away to him and he placed a silver wristband around my wrist. As he did so, I couldn't help but silently wonder to myself whether this wristband's secondary purpose was to save time when I inevitably ended up in the hospital, dying of exhaustion and leg cramps at some point on Sunday. But I smiled and thanked the man just the same, and we quickly moved on, hitting up the marathon check-in area (for Wilson) and the t-shirt & goody bag pick-up area (Goofy Challengers got THREE long-sleeve tech shirts--SCORE!). Race gear in hand, we headed straight for the exit, stopping only twice on the way . . . once to purchase a couple pairs of gloves and once to grab some free Larabar samples.

Fast-forward 24 hours to Friday. I went to school as usual and was semi-bombarded with questions by my classmates. "How far do you have to run?" "What's your strategy?" "How are you feeling about it?" "Are you insane?" Somehow, though, I didn't feel nervous. Sure, I put on the whole "I don't know how it'll go; that's a lot of miles to run in two days and I really just want to have fun with it" act. But deep down inside, I was feeling confident. So confident, in fact, that I allowed a silly thought to creep its way into my mind. I'd thought about it in the past, but had always brushed it aside as ridiculous. But again, there it was teasing me: "Maybe . . . just maybe . . . I could pull off PR's in both the half-marathon AND the marathon. How epic would THAT be?" I was really starting to believe that it might just be a possibility.

Well, wouldn't ya know, that confidence faded the second I got back to my hotel room. Perhaps it was the bad news that accuweather.com was presenting me with. Perhaps it was the phone call in which my mother attempted to talk me out of running the races. Perhaps it was the twinge of soreness I was feeling in both quads. Or maybe it was simply the fact that the magnitude of what I was about to do had finally hit me like a load of bricks. Whatever the case, I was REALLY nervous. And my anxiety only grew as the predicted temps dropped lower and lower . . . It was official; The Disney Half-Marathon and Disney Marathon would mark the two coldest races I had ever run. Temps for Saturday were predicted to be in the 30s (with a "real feel" in the low-2os) and freezing rain; and temps for Sunday were predicted to be in the 20s (with a "real feel" in the low-teens). Can we say BRRRR?! And Wilson and I had brought no running tights with us to Orlando . . . FRACK.

After debating for hours about whether we should try to go out and find tights or not, we finally decided to hit up Target. It was a no go. FRACK SQUARED. Just when I had convinced myself that I would be fine in capris, we drove past a Sports Authority. Round two of desperately seeking running tights. And? We were in business! We both found what we needed, sprinted for the check-out line and booked it out of there without so much as trying them on. Well, I'll bet you already know where this is going . . . but we got back to the hotel, tried on our tights, and mine were HUGE; a size medium that fit like an XL. CRAPPERS. Luckily, Wilson's fit him fine . . . but I had officially given up. Capris it would be.

We ate dinner, I packed all of my race stuff AND my school stuff (I was going to have to go straight to school from the race), and FINALLY, we hit the hay around 9:30 p.m., knowing full well that our 3:00 a.m. wake-up call was coming soon.

And did it ever. I woke up, drank some coffee, got dressed and body-glided, ate some oatmeal, drank some water, checked my bags one last time to make sure I had everything . . . and we were out the door by 3:45 a.m., on our way to Disney for Day 1 of the Goofy Challenge! We got there without issue, parked, and I immediately hopped on line for the porta-potties. The lines were long, but nothing too bad.

Before long, it was time to leave Wilson behind and head towards the start line. Little did I know that it was a good 20-minute walk to the start line! I tried to hustle . . . but it was tough to do so with so many people sloooowly making their way over, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the race was about to start. Finally, I felt like we were starting to get close. I attempted to pull my throwaway pants off while walking/jogging, which--for the record--I would NOT recommend! I am lucky I didn't face plant . . . but somehow, I got those suckers off and resumed my jog to the start. All of a sudden, fireworks went off, indicating the start of the first wave. Considering I was in the second wave, I knew I needed to hurry. Luckily, I made it to the start with a minute or two to spare . . . and then another explosion of fireworks went off, and we were moving!

The first few miles FLEW by. There's not a whole lot to report, as frankly, there wasn't a whole lot to see! These miles were pitch black, and we were running on some nice, flat highway. Not real exciting. Despite some crazy crowds and narrow roadways, I really had to focus on keeping my pace down. Running was feeling basically effortless; a little TOO effortless. But still, I knew I had to stick to my plan in order to stand a chance at "fresh" legs for the marathon the next day. On I trotted, singing to myself in my head.

Before I knew it, we were over 5 miles through the race, and we were rapidly approaching the Magic Kingdom. I felt my heart flutter as we entered . . . it was very similar to the first time I saw the place when I was a kid--only WAY better! The sky was still pitch black and everything was just lit up in the most incredible way possible. There honestly just aren't words to describe it; it was . . . magical :) As I ran through the park, I couldn't help but smile from ear to ear like some kind of goofy fool! It was just SO MUCH FUN! I can say without doubt that this was my favorite running memory EVER.

As quickly as we entered, though, we were spat back out of the park for another six miles or so of uninteresting highway running. The only highlight of the section from mile 6.5-ish to mile-12 was getting to see Wilson around mile-8. By this time, I was still feeling great, and I jumped up and down like a hyperactive child when I saw him. Ha. I've NEVER ever felt that good at that point in a half-marathon. I think even Wilson was shocked to see me in such high spirits! Granted, I was running pretty easy . . . but still, I was on PR pace!

By mile-9 or so, the fun was over. The sleet/hail mixture that had plagued us through the first 90 minutes of the race had turned into freezing, liquid rain . . . and I was SOAKED. And also? I was REALLY EFFING COLD. I knew the smart thing to do was to keep my pace slow; but honestly, I just couldn't take it anymore. I was freezing my arse off! I struggled through one last slow mile, but then I officially gave up on keeping my pace down once I hit the Mile-10 marker. By that time, my one and only goal was to finish up as quickly as possible and get into some dry clothes and the heated car!

I booked it through the last 5K to the finish, slapping Goofy's hand right before crossing at 2:08:17 . . . a PR by over 7 minutes. Not bad, considering I held myself back for 80% of the race!

Splits were as follows:

Mile-1: 10:14 (holy crowded start, Batman)
Mile-2: 10:33 (road narrows . . . even MORE crowded)
Mile-3: 9:43 (AH, open space! Oops; slow down, Irish!)
Mile-4: 9:58 ('atta girl)
Mile-5: 10:07 (good; keep it there)
Mile-6: 10:06 (YES. I am a pacing goddess!)
Mile-7: 9:42 (watch it . . . )
Mile-8: 9:42 (watch it . . . )
Mile-9: 9:35 (WATCH IT . . .)
Mile-10: 9:53 (gel break; whew, back on track!)
Mile-11: 9:06 (EFF IT! I am COLD and WET)
Mile-12: 9:11 (I seriously can't WAIT to finish)
Mile-13: 8:41 (GET THIS RACE OVER WITH ALREADY!)
Last .1: 7:21/pace (Ah, sweet finish line! It is SO nice to see you!)

After finishing, I got my mylar blanket (WARMTH!) and my medal, and headed to the Goofy tent to have my wristband swapped out. I then grabbed a Powerade, had my finisher photo taken and headed straight for the family meet-up area, opting to skip the food tent. Yup. THAT'S how cold I was, homies . . . so cold that I didn't give a rat's ass about food. I don't think that's ever happened before! I met up with Wilson, he took a quick video of me (will post it as soon as I figure out how--ha) and then we headed to the parking lot . . . time to go to school for 7 hours of Sports Performance education! Of course, this was easier said than done, considering we couldn't remember where the hell we'd parked! We're city people . . . we don't think about things like that! Ha. A really nice runner offered to let us sit in his car to warm up if we didn't find our car soon; but thankfully, we found it (turns out it was like four cars down from the nice runner dude).

Amazingly, despite this delay, we still had time for a Starbucks stop on the way to school. I got a breakfast sandwich and a big ol' piping hot Americano, which I had a VERY difficult time consuming. Turns out shivering uncontrollably makes it very tricky to eat/drink without spilling all over yourself; and chattering teeth don't help matters any either! DAMN, I was cold! I had wisely changed out of my wet top in the car, but my wet sports bra was still on. Luckily, I had brought a change of sports bra with me . . . so I changed that sucker as soon as I got to school. MUCH BETTER! The dry clothes combined with the toasty classroom felt like Heaven. Only problem was . . . all I wanted to do was SLEEP!

Somehow, though, I made it to our hour lunch break without dozing off. I downed my lunch in approximately 5 seconds and then put my head down to sleep and had the most delightful nap in the history of naps. I woke up 55 minutes later to what was basically the BEST NEWS EVER. Because of the shit weather, our instructor was going to let us out of class 2.5 hours early!! We typically would have had a sports performance workout during that time; but Paul had pity on us and let us leave at 2 p.m., promising we would make up the time during the coming weekend's session. You guys, I am telling you; I have never been so happy in ALL MY LIFE.

Wilson picked me up at 2:00 and we headed back to the hotel where I showered (finally), iced, rocked my hot pink recovery socks and basically lazed around until we finally hit up the Macaroni Grill geezer-style (at like 5:30 p.m.) for a good old fashioned carbo-loading meal. We returned back to the hotel, got stuff ready to go for the next day, and hit the hay by around 9 p.m. Let me tell you; I slept like a BABY.

To Be Continued . . .

Guess Who's Goofy?

2010-01-10T12:45:00.003-05:00

Um, you guys? There are seriously just not words to describe how amazingly the Goofy Challenge went. Despite a million and one reasons why it could have been a disaster*, I somehow managed to pull off PR's at both the half-marathon (2:08:17) AND marathon (4:28:23) distance. I don't even understand how that's possible. I'm actually thinking I may wake up soon and realize it was all a dream! I don't have the time (or the energy) at the moment for a full recap . . . but I just wanted to let you know how it went, since y'all have been SO incredible with your support as of late (despite the fact that I haven't been able to reciprocate that support--sad face). I will try my best to get a recap up in as timely a fashion as possible. But seriously, thanks again for being so awesome. I love you all! :)

*Including, but not limited to, my worst face plant ever at mile-1.8 of the marathon

Irish 2.0

2010-01-04T23:48:00.002-05:00

It's official . . . I've entered the 21st century, folks. New decade, new Irish! :) But don't worry, I'm still just as nerdy as in 2009!

Happy New Year!

2009-12-31T23:40:00.003-05:00

Hey runners! Remember when I said that things would settle down after school let out for the holidays? Yeah? Well smack me upside the head next time I mention things "settling down" during the holidays. I mean, really!

In an attempt to (again) catch this blog up with my life, I will post some of the stuff that's happened during the past couple weeks in bullet point format . . . because I'd kind of like to finish this before 2011 arrives! :)

Finished Christmas shopping AND a huge assignment at school (designing a ridiculously detailed template for my future personal training clients), while still managing to fit two short runs in during the week
Ran 30 miles the weekend before Christmas (PEAK WEEK!!) . . . it was one crazy-ass weekend. I somehow ran an effortless 10 miles in 1:29:38 (8:58 pace!) on Saturday a.m., went to school all day for my Sports Performance Clinic, went home, ate pasta, went to sleep, got up on Sunday and felt really sick (sinus crap), ran 20 miles anyway, checked my garmin like 40 times afterwards to make sure I had REALLY run 20 miles,* ate fast food (Sonic) for the first time in a year, felt REALLY sick (sinuses and tummy, both) and went to bed
Studied for and aced another test at school despite the constantly-building sinus pressure in my head
Survived my car making a WEIRD ASS sound** on the way to Target, checked and added oil to my car (that wasn't the problem; that was more a "just in case" kind of thing); renamed said car "The Little Suzuki That Could" with the hopes that I would make it to my older sister's house in Beaufort, SC without my life turning into one of those Fa-La-La-La-Lifetime movies I'd been watching recently
"Baked"*** until the wee hours of the morning before heading to one last (entertaining) class and hitting the road for Beaufort
Drove for 5 hours with my blood pressure through the roof as a result of my fear that my car would breakdown somewhere in rural Georgia with no cell reception
Made it to SC without incident, ate some homemade gumbo and spent the next day-and-a-half wrapping presents, eating cookies and hanging out with the fam
Had a wonderful Christmas**** in which I received many running-themed presents (will post photos soon!), new headphones and a telephoto lens for my "big girl" SLR camera
Spent the next few days hanging out with the fam, attempting to get over my sinus infection that had morphed itself into bronchitis, and being lazy. I wasn't TOTALLY lazy, though . . . my younger sis, Mo, and I did rock the Dance Dance Revolution pretty hard! That game will get you sweating, let me tell ya! I also managed to work in a day of lifting, a metabolic conditioning workout and a bunch of walks around my sister's beautiful neighborhood . . . not much, but I'll take it considering I felt like absolute crap and was getting about 2 hours of sleep a night as a result of my inability to breathe and the fact that I was hacking up a lung every 4 seconds
Researched rental cars and flights for like 45 hours straight in an attempt to figure out how the heck I'm going to get home to NYC in THREE WEEKS! Yes, you read that right . . . THREE WEEKS!
Spent one extra day (Monday) at Mallory's house so that I could attempt to deflect some of my niece's CRAZY energy off of her. That child was WIRED!
Drove back to Orlando, still slightly terrified that my car was going to break down. Made it without incident (whew!)
Since I got back to Orlando on Tuesday night, I've spent my time polishing my resume, job-hunting, house-hunting in various parts of the country*****, researching a presentation I'll have to do in class in a week or so and prepping for Wilson's visit.

Have I mentioned that Wilson gets here tomorrow?****** 'CUZ HE DOES! That being said (and with everything going on at school right now--ugh, SO MUCH), I may or may not have much time to post over the next 10 days . . . or hell, over the next 3 weeks until I'm done with school. I will, at a minimum, let you all know how Goofy goes, though! Um . . . yeah, because that shizz is in just over a week. YIKES! Here's hoping the bronchitis is completely gone by that time!

Alright, I better get my booty to bed for now . . . I'd hate to be late picking my man up from the airport tomorrow a.m.! Happy New Year, y'all! Here's hoping 2010 brings us all lots of hugs, runs and happiness :)

*It seemed WAY too easy . . . that's never happened to me before on a 20-miler!

**Like gravel was jumping around under the hood, in case you're interested

***I don't have an oven in my hotel room; thus, I was stuck with "no bake" recipes only

****Minus a minor/major argument--ah, family!!

*****Yes, I realize this is a complete waste of time until I figure out where we're going to be . . . but I like it, so sue me!

******Actually today, seeing as how it is now past midnight. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! :)

Two Weekends For the Price of One

2009-12-14T22:10:00.004-05:00

I swear, I am *THIS* close to hiring somebody to write for my blog. Oy. This time of year is always an especially tough one for me, it seems . . . I just don't understand where the time goes! First and foremost, I'm going to have to blame Falalala Lifetime's insistence on playing Christmas movies 24/7. Why do I continue to watch these horribly awesome movies with what little free time I have? WHY?! That, and I've been spending a HUGE amount of time scouring the interwebs, trying to find thrifty but fabulous presents for my loved ones. Being a student without any income sucks, yo . . .

Anyway, life has been good. Not much excitement happening during the week . . . school, workout, run, study; repeat. Boring, right? The weekends, however, have been great. Thus, I will now tell you about them in an attempt to make my life sound more interesting than it actually is.

Two weekends ago, I got to head home to NYC to spend some quality time with Wilson and my beloved Brooklyn Heights apartment (okay, fine--and the cat too). Wouldn't you know, NYC was kind enough to greet me upon my arrival with some kind of freezing sleet/rain crap that felt absolutely LOVELY on my sissy Floridian skin. Yowsers. After that cleared up, though, it was a fabulous weekend indeed. I decorated the apartment for Christmas and helped Wilson bake gingerbread cookies. We also managed to squeeze in a 14-ish mile run along my favorite NYC route (over the Brooklyn Bridge and up the Hudson River--gorgeous). Most importantly, though, I got to eat at all of my favorite NYC establishments that I miss so dearly . . . brunch at Stone Park Cafe; Vietnamese sandwiches and bubble tea from Nicky's Vietnamese Sandwiches; pizza from Lucali; and Falafel from Waterfalls. Ah, how I've missed those places . . . and Brooklyn. Sigh. Only six weeks to go, though, until I get to return back home (and back to the real world--yikes!). How crazy is that?

This past weekend, on the other hand, I stayed in Orlando and had the distinct pleasure of meeting up with the the Redhead for 12 miles on Saturday morning. Those of you who have read her recap already know it wasn't exactly smooth sailing for the two of us. First things first, I was scared silly by a strange man laying on a bench right outside my hotel as I left at the early (and dark) hour of 6 a.m. He screamed, "GOOD MORNING!" at me at the top of his lungs as I scurried out the front door into the pitch blackness. I prayed he wouldn't follow me, and rushed to my car. Luckily, he did not . . . so I hopped in and immediately locked my doors. I was on my way!

The drive was uneventful (read: I managed to not get lost) and I arrived at our meeting point right on time. The only issue was that the lot we usually park in was all blocked off. FRICK. I pulled into a nearby McDonalds and pulled out my phone to text the Redhead and let her know where I was. As I waited for her to arrive, I could see flashing lights coming from the other side of the McD's, reflecting off of a nearby parked car. "OH SNAP," I thought. "Somebody got busted." I kid you not, 5 seconds later, I got a text from the Redhead saying that she had just been pulled over by a cop in the same McDonald's parking lot I was waiting in. Ha. Luckily, the cop just gave her a warning (whew!). With our usual parking spaces unavailable (we speculated there must be a race of some kind going on), we decided to head over to the Publix to park. Only, when we got there and climbed out of our cars, we realized we were like 10 yards from a big finish line area. Oops! Guess there WAS a race going on, and we'd basically driven right up to it.

We moved our cars away from the finish line and finally made our way to the nearby trail we were planning to run on, hoping and praying that the race wasn't taking place ON the trail. Well, I'm sure you know where this is going . . . but yeah, it was most certainly taking place right on the trail. DAMN. Luckily, it was still early enough that there weren't many people around. I should probably mention that right around this time, I tripped over absolutely nothing and just about bit it. Yep, we hadn't even begun running and all this crap had happened. But still, we were determined to have a good run. So, off we went!

All in all, the first mile went by without a hitch. Well, other than the golf cart of race volunteers who inadvertently blocked our path and then almost ran over us, that is. But hey, we came away from it unscathed, so that's all that matters. We kept running along the trail, and suddenly off in the distance, we saw a displeasing sight . . . the trail was blocked off with a fence up ahead. Oh geeze. Luckily, there was a lovely orange detour sign pointing us towards the right. We set off on our "detour", laughing ourselves silly about our bad luck. On we ran, praying we were following the detour correctly. After a couple of miles of detour, however, we started to get nervous. We realized neither of us had our cell phones and neither of us had any clue where we were. We attempted to recall how we'd gotten to where we were . . . just in case we needed to turn around at some point. Meanwhile, we joked about how we'd probably never be found, and how the cop who had pulled the Redhead over would later be interviewed on the news, weeping and saying he was the last person to see the Redhead. Ha, awesome.

FINALLY, we saw another orange detour sign up ahead, which led us back to our beloved trail. We hopped back onto the trail and tried to figure out how much mileage we had gained/lost as a result of the detour. Um, let's just say we are NOT math geniuses when we run. We got to the end of the trail around the mile-5 point and stopped to gel up. The Redhead had a fabulous idea to add on a loopy thing-a-ma-bob which we thought would make it so that we would hit 12 miles right as we got back to our cars. It made sense to me (which is honestly not saying much) . . . so off we went!

I managed to trip over my own feet like 13 more times as we made our way back to our starting point (soooo graceful!). We also managed to take a sprinkler right in the face, which was pretty awesome. The good news is that we rocked that detour like champs on the way back . . . go us! Unfortunately, though, at some point during the detour, I found myself quickly growing REALLY tired. I realized the past week was probably catching up to me . . . because my legs (and my entire body, really) were just PISSED. I tried my best to remain perky, but I was doing a baaaaad job of trying to hide my exhaustion. You know when you get to the point where you are just too tired to be good at holding a conversation? Yeah, that was me. I felt like such a loser, but told myself to just suck it up. Before long, we made it back to the 5K race course area where we'd started, and tried to figure out how to finish up the run without getting in the way of the participants. Luckily, though, it appeared to be just a handful of the far back of the pack who were still out on the course by the time we got back, so it wasn't much of an issue.

We got back to the area where we'd parked and quickly came to realize that we were only at about 11 miles. CRAPPERS. Looks like we were a little lacking in the math while running skillz department! Or, to use the Redhead's term, we were "run-tarded"! I debated whether or not to finish the 12 miles off or call it quits. I felt bad leaving the Redhead on her own for the last mile, but I was also semi-worried about time since we'd gotten a late start and I had to be at school by 9:30 a.m. for a 7-hour Sports Performance Clinic. Well, that and I was really starting to struggle. Considering I still had a 2-hour workout ahead of me at school, I thought it might be wise to call it quits and head off. The Redhead, being an example of total awesomeness continued on to finish out 12 miles as I made my way back to my car.

I quickly drove over to my school, all the while chugging my gatorade down and stuffing my face with an Amy's Organic black bean burrito. I made it there by 9:10, excited to strip out of my wet clothes and hop in the shower (ah, the perks of going to school at a gym!). Well, this was easier said than done . . . turns out there was NO HOT WATER. Oh dear god. It was painfully cold. I kept expecting to go into shock or something. But somehow, I managed to quickly get cleaned up without dying of hypothermia. I quickly got dressed and made it back into the classroom with a few minutes to spare. Nice! The workshop itself (which will run for the next three weekends minus the Saturdays after both Christmas and New Years) was REALLY interesting. I would love, love, love to work with sports teams some day; so this stuff was right up my alley. Oh, and the workout wasn't bad at all since we were mostly learning about dynamic warm-ups.

I got home around 4 p.m. and spent the remainder of the day laid out on my hotel bed (in my hot pink recovery socks, of course), watching Falalala Lifetime. It was early to bed for me, as I had plans for ANOTHER long run on Sunday morning. Weeeellllll, it turned out my body had other plans for me when I woke up at 6:30 on Sunday a.m. Oy. I was DEAD. I pulled the "I'm just going to lay back down for a second" trick . . . and didn't wake up until 10:30 a.m. Um, oopsies! Around 2:30 p.m., I finally convinced myself to head out, which was awesome considering it was HOT out. Don't get me wrong; it was a BEAUTIFUL day (and I know many of you would KILL for some 80s right about now) . . . it's just that running long was not the awesomest thing ever to be doing mid-afternoon. Around the 6-mile mark, I made a decision to slow to a power walk and shoot for "time on my feet" instead of my originally planned 16-18 miles. I ended up covering a total of 14-miles in just under 3 hours. It wasn't exactly what I set out to do, but given my busy weekend and the crazy-exhausting metabolic circuits we'd done in class during the previous week, I figured it was good enough. Plus, slowing down came with some perks: I saw 3 turtles and a couple of wild turkeys along the trail! I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have noticed any of them had I run the whole time. So yay. I guess there are some benefits to slowing down :)

Well, there you have it, folks. That's what I've been up to. I am STILL trying to catch up on my Google Reader . . . because I am nothing if not stubborn! But I figure if I can just hang on another week, I'll be on a 10-day Christmas break from school and can FINALLY get myself fully caught up. Whew! Almost there! Hope you are all well! I really can't wait to catch up with you guys!

Balance is a Real Bugger

2009-12-03T15:53:00.002-05:00

Soooo . . . hi all! I'm still alive and kicking, despite what the silence of this blog would lead you to believe! I guess stuff has just been kinda busy lately.

The good news is that I aced my midterm; not only that, but I pulled the highest grade in the class with a 99%! What's up, bitches?! Hahaha. SO glad to see all of my crazy studying paid off! But the bad news about my crazy studying (combined, of course, with a crazy-fun Thanksgiving holiday with the fam) is that I am so far behind in my google reader, I want to cry just thinking about it! I haven't even opened it over the past couple days because the number of unread entries is so overwhelming. But today is the day I start chipping away at it. I simply don't have the heart to clear the whole thing out. Slowly but surely, I WILL catch up on all 202 postings!

Now for a little bit of bad news. Don't worry, my dad is just fine; no problems there. But it turns out that I'm not doing so well. Apparently working out twice a day 5 times a week and then attempting two back-to-back long runs every weekend is a good way to end up seriously overtrained. Shit. The overtrained-ness may actually be to blame for my insomnia according to this article. So anyway, I'm in a bit of a pickle. We're getting to the point at school where we are really upping the ante, so to speak; we're getting to training methods like metabolic conditioning that can really kick your ass if you're not careful. So basically, I have no choice but to cut back on everything else a little bit; otherwise, my progress will be seriously halted . . . which is obviously completely unacceptable.

So how am I planning to do this? Well, I've decided I should probably cut my evening sessions back to (at most) one a week. While this makes me a little sad, I know it is what my body needs. I've also decided to cut my weekday runs down from two to one, and reduce that one run from 6-8 miles to 4-6 miles, thus cutting my weekly mileage down from the 40-45 range to about the 30-35 range. Hopefully, this will be enough to combat the overtraining issue . . . if not, I guess I'll have to reassess things further. Ugh, what a drag . . .

Anyway, other than that, things are going just swimmingly. We're getting to some really interesting stuff at school . . . and I am loving it! Ooh, and I get to head back home to NYC this weekend to see Wilson (and my kitty), and to do some long runs in NOT hot weather. Not gonna lie, homies. I'm sorta/kinda really excited about that one!

For now, though, it's time to catch back up with what y'all have been doing! Can't wait!

Good News!

2009-11-18T18:03:00.002-05:00

So, first things first . . . I have to thank all of you for your thoughts, prayers and kind words regarding my father. Just to update you, we got word on Monday that my father's bone scan came back negative. This is very good news as it means the cancer is confined to his prostate and has not spread elsewhere in his body. After meeting with the doc, my pops was given options of either surgery or radiation. At this point in time, he is leaning towards the surgery; but that won't take place until six weeks or so down the road (I guess he has to take some time to recover from the biopsy). Know what's awesome about that? It means we'll get to go ahead with the family Thanksgiving as planned! I am so excited, I can't even tell you. In addition to it being Thanksgiving, my adorable niece turns 4 on Thanksgiving Day . . . so it will be one big party at the Irish Cream household! Can't wait :)

In other news, I am tired. Like, really tired. I've suffered on and off from bouts of insomnia . . . and guess what? It's back. Blech. I'm trying to do everything in my power to make myself sleep at night, but for the past week or so, it's been a losing battle. Luckily, I've still managed to get my workouts in and stick to the schedule like white on rice. My first run of the week was a 6-miler on Monday after class. I started out running pretty easy, but then felt like picking up the pace about 1.5-miles in. My splits were kind of all over the place--not sure what that's all about--but I felt good the entire time, so I'll take it.

Mile-1: 9:25
Mile-2: 9:13
Mile-3: 8:54
Mile-4: 9:11
Mile-5: 8:48
Mile-6: 8:19

Not bad. Not bad at all. Yesterday was my evening circuit training session at school, and let me tell you, it was ROUGH. I think the lack of sleep finally caught up with me or something because I was SO not feeling it. I still gave my all, but I just didn't have my usual "stuff." Sigh.

Today, I got home from school and was equally exhausted. I was SO tempted to blow my scheduled run off. After all, with our big midterm coming up on Tuesday, I had a decent excuse. But in the end, I knew I would feel better if I got out there and ran. I put my clothes on and headed out, telling myself that I could run 4-miles and call it a day. Of course, once I got started, I was very happy to be running and, once again, felt like picking up the pace and getting a little speedy. Somehow, I managed to turn the run into a progressive run, with each mile clocking in faster than the previous mile. Isn't it funny how the runs you dread the most can sometimes turn into your best runs ever? My splits for today's run were as follows:

Mile-1: 9:10
Mile-2: 8:50
Mile-3: 8:34
Mile-4: 8:27

Now, it's back to studying because this midterm is NOT going to be easy. So . . . much . . . information! Happy Hump Day, folks! We've got a short week next week, so hang in there ;)

Another Great Weekend

2009-11-15T11:49:00.003-05:00

Another weekend is coming to an end, leaving me with nothing but smiles . . . which is actually somewhat shocking when you take into account the fact that I had my first ever experience with back-to-back long runs (a la Goofy) this weekend.

I ran the first one on Friday morning before class. Getting up at 5:45 a.m. was a total b*tch due to the fact that I have been suffering from some insomnia lately. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with adding the evening circuit training workouts into my routine. I'm hoping once my body gets used to them, I'll get back to sleeping better. Somehow, despite my lack of sleep, I managed to drag my practically lifeless body out of bed, get dressed and head out the door by 6:30 on Friday morning. It was nothing short of a miracle, folks. Once I got going, I was fine, of course (always am--it's just the waking up that's hard) . . . completing 6.01 miles in 56:24 (9:23 pace). The best thing about the run was the weather--in the high-fifties--just about perfect running weather, if you ask me! The funny thing is that 3 out of the 5 people I passed while running looked at my scantily clad self (just shorts and a short-sleeved shirt) and asked me incredulously, "Aren't you freezing?!" Ah, Floridians. I resisted the urge to point out that it would actually have to be about 25 degrees cooler to be considered "freezing".

Saturday morning held another 5:45 a.m. wake-up call, as I was scheduled to meet Morgan from the blog Caution: Redhead Running for my 12-mile long run. As I mentioned in my last post, we were originally going to run long together; but it turned out that she had a 10K to rock the next day (word on the street is that there was a PR involved--keep an eye out on her blog for the race report). Rather than cancel on me, though, she offered to ride her bike alongside me and keep me company. How infinitely cool is that?! Being my usually car-less New Yorker self, I got lost on my way to our meet-up spot (shocking, I know). I've said this before, and I will say it again . . . I should NOT be trusted to drive anywhere, people! Once Morgan figured out where I was and helped me to find my way, though, we finally got to meet. Shortly thereafter we embarked on what was to become my favorite long run EVER. First of all, not only did Morgan ride her bike alongside me and distract me with all kinds of fun topics of conversation, but she also wore a backpack and insisted on carrying ALL of my sh*t for me! Oh, and she also brought me an ice cold bottle of water and carried that on her bike for me too. Talk about being spoiled! Everyone we passed was seriously jealous of my personal support crew!

Now--let's be honest--I was slightly nervous about this run going into it. I just wasn't sure how the school workouts plus all the running I've been doing plus the back-to-back long runs were going to affect me. I was secretly convinced that my legs were going to give up 2 miles in and I was going to look really stupid and lame in front of this awesome runner girl who could have just slept in was it not for me! But seriously, the miles FLEW by. We chatted about everything under the sun . . . lots of it running-related, but lots of it not. At one point, we got a good laugh in when some dude biking ahead of us stopped and picked up this HUGE palm branch. He then proceeded to ride his bike while carrying this thing. WTF? Sadly, by the time we realized what he was doing, he was too far in front of us for Morgan to snap a photo. Still, it was definitely good for a laugh or two! Honestly, every moment from start to finish was just so much fun. Isn't it so funny how you can meet another running blogger for the first time and the conversation just flows as though you've known each other for years?

In the end, we finished 12.01 miles in 2:01:25; or a 10:07 pace. Things that are awesome about this: 1) I FINALLY managed to keep my pace down. I think chatting with Morgan really helped with this. Ah, conversation pace! Who knew all you had to do to find it was . . . to have a conversation with someone; 2) I felt REALLY good throughout the run. During maybe the last 1.5 miles, my legs started to fatigue a little and it started to heat up a bit; but it wasn't a big deal; 3) I am now feeling much more confident in my ability to do the training for Goofy. Although, seriously? I might just have to pay Morgan to accompany me on all of my long runs from here on out! We have tentative plans to run long together at some point in December, and I can't wait!

After we finished, we chatted for a bit longer until we both realized how hungry we were getting and went our separate ways. I headed back to my hotel, ate, showered, got in some phone time with both Wilson and my mother, napped, and then spent the entire evening watching college football and hiding from my classmates who were trying to insist that I go out and get drunk with them. I almost feel badly . . . but not really. I think it's just REALLY hard for them to understand that I'm just not that into "partying" these days. Poor souls. They too will get old and boring someday . . .

Today was finally a rest day; so I've made the most of it . . . sitting on my bum and perusing my new favorite website: Care2 Make a Difference (http://www.care2.com/). For those of you who aren't familiar with it, it has all kinds of healthy and green living articles; as well as like a trillion amazing and healthy recipes. There is just so much to peruse, I have wasted hours upon hours today doing so. That being said, I was also semi-productive--getting some grocery shopping done, tidying up my room and doing some dishes; not to mention, doing some cooking. That is honestly my favorite thing about not working a job I hate that demands my attention 24 hours a day . . . I FINALLY have time to cook and clean up after every meal. What a blessing! :)

Alrighty, well I'm off to hit the books . . . but I hope you all had as super-fabulous a weekend as I did!! Can't wait to see what y'all did :)

Some things . . .

2009-11-12T20:06:00.005-05:00

Wow, so much to talk about! I guess that's what happens when you let a week and a half go by without posting, eh?

First let's start with some bad news I received about a week ago. I always like to get that stuff out of the way first so that I can move onto happier things :) Sooooooo . . . my pops was diagnosed with prostate cancer last Friday. Bummer, right? Who wants to actually be forced to think/talk/etc. about their father's prostate? Yikes--no thanks! But in all seriousness, if he has to have cancer, prostate cancer isn't the worst thing ever. It still sucks obviously, but there are far worse cancers out there. At this point in time, we're waiting on results of a bone scan to see whether the cancer has spread to his bones at all. Luckily, my father is a pretty fit, healthy dude (he's a runner too) . . . so we're pretty optimistic that no matter what the prognosis, he'll be just fine. Still, we could definitely use all the prayers, happy thoughts, finger-crossing, etc. you can spare!

Okay, now moving on to happier items: I am in love with school. I mean, seriously in love. Like, I would probably consider cheating on Wilson if school was a person. Luckily, school is not a person. But I digress . . . it is honestly going just INCREDIBLY. I feel like I have learned such a crazy amount of stuff in such a short time (only 7 weeks so far!). That's the reason I haven't been posting much about what I'm learning . . . it's kind of just like, "Where the hell do I even start?!" The one thing I WILL say is that resistance training can SERIOUSLY improve your running--and yes, it is important to do some resistance training for those legs of yours, homies. Trust me on this one--you WILL see improvements in your running if you train your legs. And we're not talking crappy leg press, leg curl, leg extension machines here . . . we're talking body-weight squats, lunges, step-ups, box jumps, hip extensions, calf-raises, etc. And guess what's awesome about all of that stuff I just mentioned? YOU DON'T EVEN NEED A GYM TO DO IT! Sorry, y'all . . . no excuses. Anyway, I'll talk about this stuff more at some point, but if you don't do these exercises now, think about adding some in.

My new favorite thing at school is the "make-up sessions" we can attend on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. Basically, we can only have 2 unexcused absences during the program if we want to graduate--and if you happen to have more than 2, you are forced to attend evening "make-up sessions" to cancel out the extra absences. I went to the first of these sessions not really sure what to expect. I'd only missed 2 days (one from my Chicago trip and one because I was sick) . . . but I figured it would be smart to earn my free days back just in case I happen to need them later on. For the first part of the session, our instructor had us clean the gym. BO-RING (and also, EW). But then, he put us through some crazy-difficult circuit training. It was HARD. Two dudes puked--not even kidding--because the point of these sessions is to be so difficult that they prevent people from missing too many classes. But, I am such a crazy masochist that I have decided to just go to all of these sessions I can make (which, lets be honest, is all of them--I have no life!) because I REALLY love having my butt kicked. I figure I might as well get my money's worth and do everything I can at school, no?

The only issue with this is trying to figure out when to fit my training runs in. Ha. Between the daily workouts we do--which are pretty hard core (all kinds of super-setting, compound-setting, etc.)--and then these extra sessions, it's hard to figure out when to run. But I think I finally figured out my schedule. It will involve "two-a-days" 5 days a week . . . so hopefully it won't kill me. But if it becomes too difficult, I can always drop the extra sessions at school (or at least one a week):

Monday:

-Resistance train upper body/interval training (at school)

-Evening run of 4-8 miles

Tuesday:

-Resistance train lower body/core/interval training (at school)

-Circuit training (evening session at school)

Wednesday:

-Resistance train upper body/interval training (at school)

-Evening run of 4-8 miles

Thursday:

-Resistance train lower body/core/interval training (at school)

-Circuit training (evening session at school)

Friday:

-1st of back-to-back long runs in the a.m. (7-10 miles)

-Resistance train upper body/interval training (at school)

Saturday:

-Long run (12-20 miles); core (optional)

Sunday:

-REST DAY!

So um, yeah. Ha, I guess that's a lot. But I'm feeling stronger than ever . . . and my body composition has already changed SIGNIFICANTLY. As in, none of my effing clothes fit me anymore. I know I shouldn't complain about this, but I AM kind of bummed that I'm going to have to basically buy an entire new wardrobe when this whole thing is over! Talk about unexpected expenses . . .

In other happy news, I got to visit my older sister and adorable niece again last weekend. My sis had some girlfriends in town for a "girls' weekend" . . . and I was the designated babysitter/kiddo distracter since my bro-in-law was out of the country on business. First things first, the drive was FAR more successful this time . . . I didn't even run off the road once! Go me! Second of all, Iris and I had A BLAST together coloring, riding bikes, looking at stingrays in the river and doing all kinds of puzzles. The only time we seemed to butt heads a little was when she tried to convince me that Halloween candy and cookies would make a "good lunch." No, no, little one. Sorry, but your Aunt Bailey is learning all about nutrition at school, and she is not going to be fooled into believing that! We settled on grilled cheese, yogurt and a banana. Overall, though, she was VERY well-behaved. I was impressed. Still, I was definitely exhausted come the end of the weekend. Here are a few photos of Iris and I hanging out together that one of Mallory's girlfriends took:

Oh my gosh, and I just remembered that I have even MORE happy stuff to talk about. Guess who I get to meet this weekend? ONLY YOUR FAVORITE REDHEAD EVER!! Aren't you jealous? We had planned to do a long run together on Saturday, but it turns out she has a 10K to rock on Sunday. Most people would simply cancel and try again another week . . . BUT NO! She is officially the coolest person EVER and she offered to ride her bike beside me while I run! How incredible is that?! I'm so excited to finally meet her!

Okay, well I THINK that's all for now. I'll probably think of something else right affter I hit "publish" . . . but I guess I'll have to save whatever it is for the next post ;)

Hope you all are having wonderful weeks . . . we're ALMOST to the weekend! Hang in there ;)

Best Weekend Ever?

2009-11-02T15:56:00.006-05:00

Man oh man. Is it just me, or do the weekends just keep getting better and better?! As I had mentioned in my last post, I spent this past weekend in the City of Brotherly Love. And let me tell you, it was THE place to be. There was just SO much going on . . . everything from the World Series, to Pearl Jam playing the last shows EVER in the Spectrum, to Obama visiting, to Halloween, to an Eagles game on Sunday. Holy moly, there was a lot going on!

My flight got into Philly around 9:00 Friday night and I made my way straight to our hotel. Wilson had tickets to the PJ show that night as well, but sadly I couldn't find a flight that would get me there in time, thanks to my school schedule. Thus, he was on his own for the show. I was a little bit bummed, but it was fine. I got to the hotel by around 9:30 p.m., changed into my PJs and sprawled out on the super comfy hotel bed. Considering how crappy I was feeling (thanks to my stupid sinus infection which was, of course, only made worse by the flight--hello severe ear and sinus pain/pressure), this was probably for the best. I fell asleep with the television on, and awoke to Wilson petting my head at around 12:30 a.m. We caught up for a little while and then hit the sack, excited for the big day ahead of us.

The next morning, we took our time getting ready, and eventually headed out to a restaurant I REALLY wanted to get brunch at. As lame as this is, I had seen it mentioned in the American Way magazine found in the seat back pocket of my American Airlines flight to Chi-town a couple weeks earlier! But seriously, I am so glad I trusted that magazine because the place was just AWESOME. It's called Jones, and it is seriously the cutest place ever. I highly recommend you check it out if you are ever in Philly. It's just a really fun, lively place. They serve some seriously awesome comfort food dishes, and I just love the decor. Check out this photo taken from the restaurant's web page:

We were seated very quickly right next to a cozy fireplace, and were served by a friendly waiter dressed up as Lady Gaga (all of the servers were wearing costumes--loved it!). In addition to the monkey bread that Jones is known for, they also had a special pumpkin bread available as a starter. Um, yes please? We couldn't resist, and holy crap, I am glad we didn't! That stuff was DELICIOUS! Wilson went for a yummy looking huevos rancheros entree and I decided on a turkey sausage, spinach and cheddar omelet served with tater tots. The food was seriously awesome. I will definitely go back there whenever I'm next in Philly!

Next up, we went on a nice, long walk to a movie theater that was showing Paranormal Activity. It WAS Halloween after all, and we knew we had to do SOMETHING to celebrate the holiday! Okay, fine. The truth is I REALLY wanted to see the movie, but was too afraid to go by myself! Luckily, Wilson agreed to go while we were in Philly so that I could see it! :) Anyway, it was just as freaky as I'd hoped, and definitely set the mood for the holiday (and gave us a lot to talk about to boot)!! When it was over, Wilson and I headed back to a cozy coffee shop we'd passed on the way to the theater and enjoyed a little late afternoon caffeine fix. The best part about this place (other than the delicious coffees) was that the windows were wide open (it was unseasonably warm on Saturday), and we could watch all of the dressed up kiddos walking by with their loot :) Some of the costumes were just ADORABLE!

After our coffee break, we headed towards South Philly, passing oodles and oodles more trick-or-treating kids on the way. It was so much fun to see everyone out and all dressed up that the walk FLEW by. Before we knew it we were at Tony Luke's, anxious to devour some REAL cheese steaks. We knew we'd made the right decision about where to get our cheese steaks* when we saw the long, long line. Luckily we had plenty of time before the concert started to wait it out. When we finally got our grub and took our first bites, it was like heaven on a hoagie. Holy goodness, that was some good stuff! My mouth is watering now, just thinking about it! See for yourselves:

We ate our massive cheese steaks as we walked to the Spectrum for the last show ever before the place would be demolished. We got slightly wet on the way, as the weather turned a bit uncooperative . . . but it didn't dampen our spirits any. We knew we had an epic Pearl Jam concert to look forward to . . . and epic, it was. The boys were in rare form, playing songs they rarely (if ever) play, and just having a blast. They played for 3 1/2 hours straight! It was just an INCREDIBLE night that we were very lucky to be able to experience. The only downside to the show was that I COMPLETELY lost my voice, singing and cheering my lungs off for my favorite band EVER. I just had nothing left by the end of the show. Oh well, it was well worth it!

On Sunday, we lazed around the hotel room all morning until it was finally time to check out at noon. While I was getting ready, Wilson--being the sweet boyfriend he is--ran out and grabbed us breakfast (fresh coffee and blueberry/banana filled Belgian sugar waffles--yum!) from this amazing place called Bonte; then after we checked out, we headed out to explore the Independence Mall area and get a dose of history, since we're geeks like that. We got to see the Liberty Bell and toured Independence Hall and Congress Hall . . . and we spent a LONG time checking out the Dialogues with Darwin exhibit in the Philosophical Hall. I think we were both pretty into that exhibit--yep, total nerds! It was all very cool to see and a GREAT refresher in some of the American History that has slipped my memory since high school. I really do love historical sites like that . . . it's just so cool to be in the same places where historical events took place centuries ago! Fun :)

After we finished up with our history tours, we moved on to our last meal in Philly. We hit up the Reading Terminal Market in search of some grub.** Sadly, when we got to our intended restaurant, DiNic's Roast Beef and Pork, we discovered it was closed. But no worries, there were PLENTY of other yummy places to choose from. After wandering around a bit and checking out the options, we finally went with Hershel's East Side Deli, where we both ordered the most mammoth-sized corned beef sandwiches I have ever seen in my entire life. See Bonnie S.'s photo from yelp:

It was SO good, but there was just no hope of me finishing that thing. I made a valiant effort, and then we headed back to hotel to collect our things and head off in separate directions; I, back to Orlando . . . and Wilson, back to NYC.

Wilson was sweet enough to walk me to the train station to make sure I got off to the airport alright . . . and I tried my hardest not to sob as we said goodbye. It was rough. We'd had such a wonderful weekend together, it was really hard to see it come to an end. But at least we'd made some pretty awesome memories together that weekend. What more can you ask for out of a weekend, really? I'm just so glad I have someone to share the best things in life with . . . travelling, eating and running, of course! I am one lucky girl! :)

*Truth be told, most of our decisions about where to eat when visiting in other cities are made based upon where Man vs. Food filmed while in the city. This is true for Tony Luke's as well.

**Again, this decision was based on what we saw on Man vs. Food. We are so predictable . . .

Busy, Busy . . . Plus a Monsoon Thunderstorm Run

2009-10-28T21:40:00.005-04:00

Howdy all! I can't believe an ENTIRE WEEK has passed since I last posted. What have I been up to? Well, there's school, of course. And studying. Then there's running--I've been doing a fair amount of that. Oh, and there's the trip I made to SC to visit my sister, bro-in-law and niece last weekend (5 hours both ways--whew!). There were many highlights of this trip. But first, let's talk about what WASN'T a highlight: My pathetic attempt to navigate my way through pitch black rural South Carolina with a nasty case of night blindness. Holy crap. I seriously can't see in the dark, y'all--I probably shouldn't even have a driver's license! It was super freaky, and I was lost, lost, lost. But luckily, I eventually found my way--only pissing off like 5 or 6 cars in the process--and best of all, I was immediately thereafter greeted with an ice cold pint of beer. My sister knows me too well ;)

Anyway, I had lots of fun catching up with them all . . . especially my 4 year-old niece, Iris (see photographic evidence of her adorableness below).

Iris and I had an exciting day of pumpkins, hay rides and cupcakes on Saturday, and then went on to dance the night away to the music of a live band. This fun was all a part of their neighborhood's Fall Harvest Festival (and by the way, dancing with a 4 year old = pretty darn exhausting). On Sunday, we played together for hours and hours. It's amazing how long you can keep a kid entertained just by making stuffed animals talk! Iris showed me the medal she had earned playing peewee soccer, which led me to believe that she will one day be a marathoner. I mean, c'mon . . . who else would be so darn impressed with a silly piece of metal looped around a ribbon? Also, at one point, as we were attempting to put together a Hello Kitty puzzle, Iris turned into the cutest kid on the face of the planet. Just imagine those gorgeous blue eyes staring up at you with nothing but love and saying this:

Iris: Aunt Bailey?

Me: Yes, Iris?

Iris: I love you.

Me (trying not to spontaneously burst into tears): I love you too, Iris.

Iris: I really, really missed you.

Me: Aw, I missed you too, Iris.

It was officially the cutest moment of my entire life. I was definitely a bit choked up. It also made me want to pop a kid out right then and there (tick tock, tick tock). Luckily this didn't happen (although I DID have a dream last night that I woke up one day and was randomly like 7 months pregnant with twins--all I could think about was how I hadn't received prenatal care and my kids were probably all effed up!). Anyway, aren't kids the cutest? I wish I could convey the absolute sincerity with which Iris spoke. It totally broke my heart and made me want to move next door to my sister so that she'd never have to miss me ever again . . .

But alas, the time came for me to hit the road. Conveniently, this coincided with nap time for Iris. This worked out perfectly because I didn't have to have my heart torn to shreds by her crying and begging me to stay as I walked out the door. Mallory sent me off with a HUGE bag full of veggies from their farm share, as well as half a loaf of homemade banana bread. YUMMY. I got back to Orlando around 8 p.m. and was forced to cram for a test that would be taking place during class on Monday morning. It was not fun. But somehow, I managed to pull the highest grade in the class despite my lack of motivation to study. So it all worked out in the end.

Yesterday, I started to feel like I was coming down with something--maybe a sinus infection? Maybe swine flu? Blech. But despite feeling a bit crappy, I still really wanted to get a run in. I checked accuweather and noticed it was supposed to storm later in the evening, but I thought I had time to squeeze the run in before the weather got too crazy. WRONG-O. As is just my luck, I got to my turn-around point at the 3-mile mark (also known as the furthest point from my car possible) and turned around to see the darkest, most ominous sky ever staring me down. Oh shit. I tried to push the pace in an attempt to get back to my car before the storm started, but no such luck. I made it only 50 yards before a torrential downpour began. It was somehow raining sideways and was raining so hard that the rain was slicing into my eyes in all kinds of painful ways. Ouch. I couldn't see ANYTHING. I forged on, praying it wouldn't lightening. Of course, two seconds later, I saw the first flash. Here I was, 2.5 miles from my car on a tree-lined path. If that doesn't make you run fast, I'm not sure what will. I managed to make it back to my car unscathed, covering the 6 miles in 53:18; that's an 8:53 pace for all you keeping track at home. Not bad. Not bad at all. Perhaps I should go running in Monsoon Thunderstorms more often?

I also made a roller-blading friend on this run. We were stopped at a traffic light at one point and he decided to inflate my ego by telling me that I was "really cruising back there." Never in my life has anyone described my running in such a way. It felt . . . really good :) I could get used to hearing that kind of thing! We also discussed how we were both clearly in better shape than the high school-aged kids who had run past us earlier, and really looked like they were struggling. Go old folks! Anyway, I came into contact with this man twice more--once as he passed me on his way back to his car in the middle of the monsoon, and then again in the parking lot where he was pulling out as I was walking to my car. "Glad you made it back okay!" he yelled out his window. How nice is that? These Florida folks are much nicer than I am used to!

Well, I'm off to Philly for a weekend full of Pearl Jam, Wilson and cheese steaks starting on Friday :) Since I will be computer-less, I want to be sure to wish all of you running the NYC Marathon this weekend luck! There are oodles of you! Run like you mean it, kids! I'll be anxiously (and somewhat selfishly) awaiting your race reports!

Welcome to CRAZYTOWN

2009-10-21T17:56:00.004-04:00

Hey runners! Thanks again for all the amazing feedback on the race reports!

Recovery has been going just fine . . . or well, maybe a little too good? While I KNOW I should have been running at recovery pace (10:44-11:14 according to the McMillan Calculator) over the last couple weeks, it hasn't quite happened. For some silly reason, my legs are actually UNABLE to run at recovery pace--like it's physically impossible. The first run I attempted was last Thursday. I covered 4 miles at a 10:03 pace. Slow-ish, but not quite as slow as "recovery pace" obviously. Then, on Sunday, I attempted a quasi-long run of 7 miles. I ended up running this at a 9:24 pace. Oops. THEN, yesterday, I ran 3.64 miles at a 9:02 pace. WTF?! Apparently running the Chicago Marathon was not only awesome, but it made me magically faster too. Or perhaps it's all of the resistance training I've been doing over the past month? Whatever the case, I think it's safe to say that I am recovering quite nicely! I'm planning to run 6 tomorrow and 10-12 this weekend . . . so I guess we'll just have to see what happens.

Then? Guess who starts Goofy training on Monday? THIS GIRL! I am kind of excited-slash-terrified. I guess I'm just a little nervous about how to approach the training considering I already work out like a crazy person 5 days a week at school. I think I'm going to end up running back-to-back long runs on Fridays and Saturdays so that I can have my Sundays off as a rest day. I mean, call me crazy, but I just don't think I can survive the next 12 weeks without a single day off (which would be the case were I to run the long runs on Sat/Sun). At any rate, I'm excited to see how this crazy little idea pans out . . .

Speaking of crazy, I've been contemplating adding ANOTHER marathon in (on top of Chicago and Goofy) at some point in the next 3 months. Basically, I am dying to be one of the cool kids . . . I want to qualify for the Marathon Maniacs! The way I see it, if I'm already doing something crazy, why not run for mayor of Crazytown? Soooo. Originally I was sold on the idea of the X-Country Marathon in Tampa on November 22. I was picturing myself frolicking with bambi and thumper and all kinds of friendly, furry animals. But then I got nosy and found the TWO race reports that exist for this marathon on the interwebs. And one of them mentioned that the dude ALMOST STEPPED ON A SNAKE. Game over. I spent the next four hours obsessively googling in an attempt to figure out what kind of wildlife I could expect to encounter. It appears that there are many animals that could maul and/or maim me in the Tampa area including alligators, bobcats and various snakes. Um, no thank you. It's a wrap. Turns out I DON'T actually like nature all that much.

On to plan B. Now, I should mention my original inspiration for this silly plan was the discovery that one of the criteria for qualifying for maniacs is 3 marathons in 90 days. It just so happens that Chicago and Disney are spaced perfectly apart for me to accomplish just that should I throw another marathon in the middle somewhere. So my next idea was to run either the Atlanta Marathon or the Space Coast Marathon in Cocoa Beach, FL. Problem is . . . both of these marathons fall during Thanksgiving weekend, which totally goes against my belief that Thanksgiving is a time for being gluttonous and lazy. And for spending time with family, of course ;)

Finally, I decided to think outside of the box. What if I didn't run 3 marathons in 3 months . . . but instead ran 2 marathons in 3 weekends? I took a look at the race calendar and realized that the Clearwater Marathon just so happens to fall 2 weeks after Disney! Not only that, but it's two days after my graduation from NPTI . . . what better way to celebrate making it through my school program than by running a marathon and qualifying for the Marathon Maniacs! Right? Right?! Anyway, this is the plan as of right now. I, of course, reserve the right to change my mind as I have yet to officially commit myself via registration. I have to say, though, I'm liking this idea a lot. For starters, I think training for Goofy is enough craziness in and of itself. No need to throw another marathon in the mix when I've only got 12 weeks to train in the first place! By choosing to run Clearwater, I can basically slog my way through on my Goofy-butchered legs with my goal being simply to finish (I believe the cut-off is 6:30 hours--SURELY I can do that). And hey, I promise to take it NICE and easy for a while after I get through this next string of races.

So has anyone out there run Clearwater before? Any thoughts/advice/etc. to share?

Have I officially lost my mind? Comments welcome (I think)! :)

2009 Bank of America Chicago Marathon Race Report - Part III

2009-10-19T15:53:00.004-04:00

Okay, now that I'm done being all mushy and whatnot . . . it's back to our regularly scheduled program.

Let's see. Where did we leave off? I believe Wilson and I had just crossed the finish line hand-in-hand. Cute, no? Well wait 'til you hear this next thing then. We slowed to a walk, and Wilson said to me, "I'm really proud of you." I tried my hardest to fight back the tears. On we waddled through the finishers' chute. While I had definitely been in pain during those last few miles, it was NOTHING compared to the pain I was experiencing now that we had stopped. I could hardly walk on my own. And then? The lower back spasms started. This came out of nowhere . . . shockingly, my back hadn't bothered me until the last several miles; and even then, it was pretty tame in comparison to races past. Holy effer, those spasms killed. Between the pain and the pride, I could no longer hold the tears back. The floodgates opened, and I began bawling.

Wilson did a double-take and looked back at me, concerned. "I-I-I-I'm in SO much pain!" I cried between sniffles. He slowed up, and allowed me to lean on him as we walked. I honestly thought I might throw up, I was hurting so badly. My hips. My quads. My calves. My back. Even my forearms hurt--not even kidding.* I would stop every now and then . . . because more than anything, I just wanted to lay down and die. But Wilson encouraged me to keep moving, mentioning that he'd read that any runners who stopped in the finishers' chute would be taken straight to the medic tent. I definitely didn't want that! So I prepared my response should any of the medics come up and see me bawling and unable to move. "I'm just really emotional" would be my response. Clever, eh? Haha. It seemed like it at the time anyway . . .

Wilson steered me over to the side of the chute where we were able to snag mylar blankets. I was super grateful to have one as I was starting to get REALLY chilled now that we were done running. Next we got our medals. Immediately thereafter, our chips were removed. Then, I finally managed to quit crying once I saw the mile-long tables of food. Funny how that works. The selection was pretty great and the volunteers were super generous with it. I grabbed at various items, and on multiple occasions, the volunteers insisted I take 2! My stash consisted of: a bottle of water, a banana, a whole wheat bagel, some cheesy dolphin crackers (x2), pretzels (x2) and some chocolate sandwich cookies (x2). I was really wishing I had some kind of baggie to hold it all . . . I must have been quite a sight, trying to juggle all that, whilst still keeping my mylar blanket wrapped around my shoulders and hobbling--across the finish chute--towards the side of the road. The goal was to find a spot just short of the beer table.** Somehow we made it, and Wilson spryly plopped down on the warm asphalt, as though he'd simply done a warm-up jog or something. I, on the other hand, was a hot mess.

It took me probably 3 minutes to figure out how the hell to lower myself onto the ground--my legs were that torn up. But when I finally made it down there, I was in heaven. I sat there and scarfed down a ton of my food; all the while trying to keep an eye out for A. on the off-chance she passed by us. In all honesty, though, we both figured it would probably be a while before she finished based on how she looked the last time we'd seen her (thus, the half-hour long picnic in the finish chute). Finally, Wilson decided we had eaten enough food and drank enough water to hit up the beer table. I got up (very slowly, and with a lot of assistance from Wilson), cursed and then made a beeline for that beer table. "Congratulations!" the volunteer said as she gave me my Goose Island 312. I quickly thought back to A.'s comment at the very beginning of the race and laughed.

Beers in hand, Wilson and I moved onward towards the gear check tents. I'm pretty sure my beer was 3/4 of the way gone by the time we made it the 100 yards or so up there. I was downing that thing! Ha, I looked over at Wilson's beer, and realized he had only taken a few sips of his! I'm such a lush! Whatever, I EARNED that beer! We collected our bag and I took a break from my beloved drink to change my shirt and throw on my sweats. It felt SO good to have clean, dry sweats on. I then proceeded to chug the rest of my beer and toss the cup before we even left the finish area.

Now, at the start of the race, we'd told A. to meet at the letter "Z" in the family meet-up area afterwards if we ever got separated. But try as we might, Wilson and I could NOT find the stupid family meet-up area (we probably should have studied the start/finish area map a little more diligently prior to the race). We were thinking the meet-up area would be closer to the finish chute than it was; in reality, it was right next to the beer tent (BRILLIANT!), which was a ways off from the finish area. Luckily, my mother called as we were wandering around, and agreed to come to where we were and walk us over to the family meet-up/beer tent area. Whew!

We stayed where we were, and before long, my parents came walking up. "So? How'd it go?" my mother asked (keep in mind that they never actually saw us on the course). When I told her that we'd finished in 4:34, I thought she was going to die of shock. Ha. She seemed really surprised . . . which honestly, probably stems from the fact that I kept saying the night before that I didn't think I could ever run an entire marathon without walking. Anyway, we chatted for a minute or two, until I got thirsty again and insisted we make our way over to the beer tent/family meet-up area.

We got over to the letter "Z" (situated RIGHT next to the beer tent--NICE!), and wouldn't you know, A. was already there waiting for us!! "Where the hell have you guys been?!" she asked between sips of her beer. Um, oops! Turns out, the girl had seriously rocked it out there even after her pit stop. She ended up finishing not even 15 minutes behind us (and at least 10 of those minutes had been waiting for and then using the porta-potty!). I was SO proud of her! I gave her a big, sweaty hug and then quickly excused myself to grab my free beer (yes, this makes the SECOND free beer of the day--LOVE YOU, Chicago Marathon), while she caught up with my parents.***

When I got back, A. entertained us with a story about how she'd lost the free beer ticket from her bib, but had managed to sweet talk her way into getting her free beer anyway. With her long blond hair and baby blue eyes, it was NOT a shock--but entertaining nonetheless. We stood around drinking beer and chatting until A.'s hubby showed up to pick her up. My fam walked her to the corner he was meeting her at, we said our goodbyes (pretending that we might actually have the energy to meet up later that night for another drink--riiiiiight) and then the Ertel clan headed back to the hotel so that Wilson and I could shower "quickly."

And when I say quickly, I mean VERRRRRRY slowly. I took off my clothing only to realize--per usual--that my sports bra had attempted to devour me (and yes, I HAD used Body Glide). But that wasn't even the worst part. Where the seam of my arm warmers had been at the top of my arms were HUGE gashes. Yep, my arm warmers had basically attempted to sever both of my arms.**** Awesome. The first ten minutes of my shower consisted of me screaming my head off, while attempting to clean out my gaping chafing wounds. OUCH. All I could think of was a sign I'd seen at one point along the course: "Chafe now. Brag to your friends later." Ha.

Finally, Wilson and I were ready to go. I wanted a nap SO badly . . . but not quite as badly as I wanted Gino's East deep dish pizza. And also more beer. We had to wait on line to get into the place (despite the fact that we got there a little before 4--clearly, this was the marathon crowd!), but it was SO worth it. We chowed down on bread sticks and sausage supreme deep dish pizza . . . and we washed that down with pitchers of Sam Adam's Octoberfest. Best. Meal. Ever. Suddenly, all of the pain and suffering was well worth it. And you know what's funny? I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that the pizza and beer tasted even better with the side of marathon PR. Just sayin' :)

After sufficiently gorging ourselves, my parents kindly dropped Wilson and I off at the front door of our hotel, congratulating us again. After thanking them profusely, we headed up to our room, and I immediately got into my pjs and climbed into bed. I asked Wilson whether 7:30 p.m. was too early to go to sleep, and he said yes. We turned the tv on, thinking we could distract ourselves with that. But for reals, I think I survived an hour--if that--before I finally passed out for good; of course, visions of future marathons danced in my head as I slept for the next 11 hours . . .

*We later realized the forearm thing was probably a result of my grasping my gloves for 9+ miles. Oops.
**Wilson, being the intelligent person he is, insisted that I eat some food and drink some water before consuming any alcoholic beverages. Fun? No. Smart? Yeah, fine.
***A. and I were soccer teammates growing up, and were always spending time at one anther's' houses . . . so we were pretty tight with each others' parents.
****Ever hear the saying, "don't wear anything new on race day?" Yeah, you might just want to listen to that one, folks! And btw, what works for a 4-mile easy run won't necessarily work for a 26.2-mile race. Duly noted.

Thank you.

2009-10-16T22:43:00.004-04:00

Okay, I promise I will get to Part III of my race report (the after-party . . . woo woo!) soon. But I need to get something out of my system first before I can continue with that. Just now, I was going over all of the incredible, kind comments you guys have left me since the Chicago Marathon, and I got a little choked up--okay, more than a little choked up--a lot choked up. It was one of those moments where I realized just how crazy supportive and all-around amazing you RBFs (or BRFs, depending on who you ask) are. You guys have stuck with me through some rough times, and never--NOT ONCE--have you ever doubted me. You've always been there, armed with kind words and encouragement, a little motivation or a joke just when I needed it most. You guys are seriously the only reason I've been able to keep going some days. Hell, there are times when I like y'all more than my own friends and family . . . no lie! To be fair, part of that stems from the fact that you'd never say things to me like, "Geez, Bae. That Goofy Challenge thing sounds a little bit excessive to me." Or "Did you win your marathon this weekend?" Or "How many miles was this marathon?" Y'all just get me. And I guess it's unreasonable to expect non-runners to "get it" . . . but just know that I am incredibly grateful to have you people around to help me obsess over the minute details of running.

I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you. Thank you for always being there when I need you the most. Thank you for attempting to build my lousy confidence time and time again. Thank you for continuing to show interest in the drivel I spew into the blogosphere. Thank you for picking me up when I start to doubt myself (which, let's be honest, is pretty often). Thank you for inevitably putting a smile on my face no matter how bad a day I'm having. Thank you for giving me the motivation to get out there day after day. Thank you for caring about my goals and accomplishments. Thank you for inspiring me in the best ways possible. Thank you for being hilarious, generous, unique individuals. Thank you for your sage advice. Thank you for keeping me honest. Thank you for giving me a shoulder to cry on when things don't go as planned. Thank you for being such awesome ambassadors for this sport that I love so very much.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

I love you guys. Seriously. I realize that may come across as creepy . . . but sometimes when I'm reading your incredible blogs or looking over your wonderful comments, I just can't help but feel blessed to have taken the plunge and started this silly little blog. My life would feel empty without y'all!

2009 Bank of America Chicago Marathon Race Report - Part II

2009-10-14T15:56:00.004-04:00

Mile 1 - 11:30(!)

As we crossed the start line, I somehow managed to remember to hit start on my Garmin (Gertie) despite all but bursting at the seams with exhilaration and excitement. I was SO thrilled to finally be running the Chicago Marathon--and with both A. and Wilson by my side to boot. It almost made it worth having to skip the race last year (when I tore my MCL two weeks into training). A. pointed out the Goose Island beer tent as we ran by, and we laughed about how ridiculous it was that we were taking such a crazy, round-about path to ultimately get back to the beer tent. As we ran, we dodged throw-away garments and thousands of other runners. I knew we were running REALLY slowly, but we didn't have much of a choice. I was not about to waste precious energy weaving in and out like a crazy person . . . plus, I knew that if I chose to do that, I'd probably lose my running partners pretty quickly. Instead, the three of us focused on staying together and taking advantage of any opportunity we got to move ahead of some of the slower runners. The highlight of this mile was CLEARLY running underneath Columbus Drive and hearing the sound of tens of thousands of runners' feet clapping against the pavement. We were DOING this (along with 35,000 of our best friends)!

Mile 2 - 10:47 (!)

Things were still VERY congested as we made our way through Streeterville, surrounded by scenic skyscrapers. I didn't even look at Gertie--again, knowing we were moving WAY too slowly--and instead, tried my best to take it all in . . . the plethora of fans lining the course, the beautiful scenery, the companionship of my running partners. It was all like a dream!

Mile 3 - 11:37 (!)

During Mile-3, I began to wonder what kind of day it was going to be for me. My legs still weren't really feeling alive, but I figured it was probably the cold temps that were causing them to take so long to warm up. Luckily (?), the course was still so congested that I had plenty to focus on besides my icy legs! *Dodge, dodge, dodge. Omigod, where are A. & Wilson? Oh right . . . there they are. Dodge, dodge, dodge* I prayed that things would thin out soon.

Mile 4 - 10:04

By Mile-4, things hadn't really thinned out considerably, but it seemed like we had finally caught up to more people who were running around the same pace as us. For this, I was very grateful. We still had to dodge in and out continually, but I felt like we were no longer getting trapped behind huge walls of people who were running MUCH slower than we wanted to. Also around this time, Wilson pulled over to take off his throw-away top, and told A. and I to keep on going--that he'd catch up with us. This, of course, made me incredibly nervous . . . it was so crowded, I was convinced he'd never find us again. Just as A. and I were starting to get really nervous that we'd lost him, though, we turned around and he was running right behind us! Apparently he'd been there for a while too! I blamed my obliviousness on "marathon brain" :)

Mile 5 - 10:23

By Mile-5, I was finally feeling like I was "in the groove." My legs were nice and warmed up, and I was feeling like I could run forever. It was at this point that I started to think that it just might be a good day for me. Still, I proceeded cautiously, knowing that my training hadn't been the greatest ever. I was just praying that if I kept my pace slow I'd be able to hold on until the end.

Mile 6 - 10:12

Helloooooo Lincoln Park!! And goodbye, Wilson!! As we entered the zoo, Wilson dove off the side of the course to pee behind a tree, again telling A. and I to go ahead. But what he didn't realize was that there was an aid station just a few hundred meters up ahead where A. and I would be stopping to gel up. As a result, he grossly overestimated how far ahead we were when he got done watering the tree. It looked like us chicas were officially on our own.

Mile 7 - 9:50

As A. and I ran on, I continually looked back over my shoulder, hoping and praying that Wilson would magically reappear. I told A. that I was pretty sure my neck would be sore by the end of the race if he didn't show up soon! Admittedly, I was a little freaked out by the prospect of having lost him . . . but I just kept telling myself that even if Wilson never showed back up, I could certainly get A. to the finish line myself. I HAD to stay strong for A. Luckily, before I could start panicking, I heard my jam off in the distance ("I've got a feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas). I realized we must be close to Boystown because I could hear the party raging just a few blocks over. This got me pretty damn excited :) I'd always heard how amazing that area of the course was . . . I couldn't WAIT to get there and join the party!

Mile 8 - 9:48

Boystown was just like I'd always heard--one big party! It was definitely one of the highlights of the race. Let me just tell you, nothing gets you smiling like a spunky group of all male cheerleaders! :) And smile we did. This part of the course was so much fun that I was really tempted to start dancing . . . but in the end, I figured it best to save my energy for later in the race when I'd REALLY be needing it!

Mile 9 - 10:21

At some point during this mile, A. and I were running along . . . and all of a sudden, Wilson jumped onto the course in front of us! It took me a second to realize what was going on . . . and when I did figure it out, I was so happy I seriously came close to crying. Apparently he had been trying to catch us for the past several miles, until he noticed he was running an 8:00 pace, and the realization that he must have overshot us set in. But being the amazing boyfriend he is, he stopped and waited on the side of the road for a good five minutes until we finally showed up! How sweet is that? Seeing him there was honestly the best part of the entire race for me. I decided I would NOT be letting him out of my sight for the remainder of the race! I'd follow him into a frickin' porta-potty if need be!

Mile 10 - 10:15

Right at the beginning of Mile-10, I realized how hot my hands were getting and made the decision to take my gloves off. I thought about tossing them, but realized I'd be seeing my parents somewhere between the mile-12 and mile-13 markers, and figured I might as well hang onto the gloves and hand them off to my parents when I saw them. Also around this time, I started to feel a small drop in energy, and wisely decided to Gu up at the aid station located at the 9.35-mile mark. Almost instantaneously, I felt much better . . . like I had my mojo back. A., Wilson and I continued on, still running strong. We turned onto the beautifully tree-lined Sedgewick St., and I distracted myself by reading all of the spectators' signs. I remembered a long run not so long ago when I felt like I was going to die at the 10-mile mark. Not today . . .

Mile 11 - 10:10

During Mile-11, I felt my first twinges of pain in my legs. They weren't anything bad, but I was certainly a little nervous about the fact that my legs were already hurting and I still had over 15 miles to go! I just prayed that I would have the strength to ignore the achiness and continue on until I reached that finish line. Somehow, I really felt like I'd be fine.

Mile 12 - 10:02

During this mile, A. and I were walking through an aid station, sipping on Gatorade, when she looked at me with her famous puppy dog eyes and told my her legs were hurting. We were in the same boat . . . under-trained and getting sore. I told her to hang in there--and that I was hurting too. And much to my surprise she got running again right away. 'ATTA GIRL!

Mile 13 - 10:30

Mile-13 was spent desperately searching for my parents in the HUMONGOUS crowd of spectators. There were people 4- and 5-people deep in some areas. Unfortunately, I couldn't remember the exact location my parents had said they were going to be; thus, I spent the entirety of this mile looking for them, praying I'd find them soon so I could ditch my gloves. I was REALLY getting sick of carrying them.

Mile 14 - 10:19

As soon as we hit the half-way point, I knew we'd missed my parents. I was a little bit bummed, but figured I'd see them at the next spot on the course they'd planned to hit up--between the mile-16 and mile-17 markers. I honestly don't know why it made sense to me that I'd actually see them at the next point, considering they'd have been cutting it close had they actually SEEN us at the first point (and they told us later they never did see us) . . . but apparently it did. Perhaps it just speaks to my high level of optimism at that point in time. At any rate, we hit the half-way mark at around 2:16, a few minutes slower than I was hoping (and actually 4 minutes slower than my half split at Rock n' Roll Seattle). I could have freaked out and given up, but something told me that I could do it. I just had to keep trucking and I'd get that PR!

Mile 15 - 9:50

I don't remember much from this mile. It was one of those miles that kind of just flew by. But I DO remember that there was a sign taped on a lamp post that said "8 miles to beer." I got seriously excited, and then realized the sign was REALLY wrong. A. screamed out loud that she wanted to hurt whoever put that sign there. Ha. What a cruel, cruel joke (or some seriously lacking math skills!).

Mile 16 - 10:12

Mile-16 was a little bit of a blur as well. I was still feeling fine minus some leg pain, and I was REALLY looking forward to seeing my parents and getting rid of my stupid gloves. I HATE holding anything in my hands while running . . . so I kept switching up which hand I held them in as I ran. It was SUPER annoying. One cute thing that happened during this mile, though, was that A. started to look like she was struggling a little bit, and Wilson said to her, "hang in there. Only a little over a mile until we get to the single digits!" It was adorable. Here he was cheering on someone he'd just met that morning as though he'd known her all her life. It was awesome! :)

Mile 17 - 10:12

Well--surprise surprise--we never did see my parents. I hugged the left-hand curb all mile long, desperately searching for them . . . but to no avail. Wilson finally explained to me what probably happened, and I tried my hardest not to burst into tears. I don't know why, but I was really bummed that they didn't get to see me running, looking strong. I guess it's probably because the last time they saw me running was at mile-19 of the L.A. Marathon, dying of heat exhaustion. I wanted them to see just how much I've improved as a runner. Oh well . . . maybe next time :)

Mile 18 - 10:23

I was giddy with excitement as we hit the mile-17 marker. At exactly the same time, Wilson and I yelled out to everyone around us, "SINGLE DIGITS!!" (Jinxies!) Yep, we were THOSE people. But honestly, I could NOT believe how great I was feeling, considering my last real long run had been a 20-miler (of which 2 miles were walked) 8 or so weeks prior to race day! I was terrified with every step that I was about to hit the wall, but at the same time, I was REALLY proud that I had made it that far without walking. It was officially the farthest I'd ever made it in a marathon without walking. Go me! It was during this mile that I FINALLY gave up on carrying my gloves. I tossed them to the sidelines somewhere on Halsted, and I was SO relieved to not have anything in my hands! Why didn't I get rid of them sooner?!

Mile 19 - 9:49

Still trucking. I believe it was during this mile that we saw a group of guys hand a cup of beer to a runner and tell him to "share with that guy," motioning to another runner. Yep, two random runners were definitely sharing a beer in the middle of the race! Ha. I think if they would have offered me beer at that point, I would have definitely obliged--I was feeling good and having fun--it just made sense! Luckily, no one offered me any beer. But seriously, if you would have bet me a million dollars that I would be "having fun" during mile-19 of the Chicago Marathon, I NEVER would have taken the bet. But here I was, still smiling!

Mile 20 - 10:03

A. had mentioned that she needed to use the bathroom at some point during the previous mile, so when we finally saw an aid station up ahead just after the mile-19 marker, we got ready to stop. A. pleaded with us to go ahead rather than wait for her . . . that she would find somebody else to run behind and make it to the end just fine. I was really hesitant to leave her, but it seemed like it was honestly what she wanted. I suddenly realized that she might want to walk, but didn't want to slow us down. So finally, I agreed to go ahead. A. made a beeline for the porta-potties while Wilson and I continued on.

Mile 21 - 10:21

I could NOT believe I'd made it 20 miles without walking (besides aid stations). As we had been all race, Wilson and I were continuing to pass people, which was one of the biggest confidence boosters EVER. It felt so good to be feeling strong and running tall, while people all around me were slowing to a walk or a shuffle. I even heard a spectator comment as Wilson and I approached, "man, some of these people look really good for Mile-21 of a marathon!" I have no clue whether or not they were referring to us, but I told myself that they were. After all, I was still feeling strong, thinking that nothing could stop me from snagging that PR!

Mile 22 - 10:06

HELLO CHINATOWN! And HELLLLOOOO WALL. Oh. Dear. God. So THAT'S what it feels like, eh? Right around the 21.5 mark, I felt like my legs could NOT move. It was as though some crazy ghost being was pushing me backwards or something. It hurt. I was pissy. But luckily, the energetic crowds of Chinatown carried me along (thank you, Chinatown!). Somehow, despite all the pain I was experiencing, I managed to keep going . . . and at a decent-ish pace. I pretended I was a video game character, and that I would gain strength every time I passed someone. Wilson and I would split around other runners and meet back together in front of them. It felt amazing to be passing people so late in the race.

Mile 23 - 12:22

Enter the Mile 22.3 aid station. My hip abductors and achilles/calves were KILLING me. I don't think I've ever been in so much pain in all my life. I begged Wilson to let me stop and stretch as we approached the end of the aid station. He agreed. I grabbed the fence, looking over the Dan Ryan Expressway (I may or may not have been secretly thinking about scaling the fence and jumping into traffic) . . . and tried to figure out what to stretch first. I was so out of it, I couldn't even remember what stretches were appropriate to target my hip abductors. I gave up pretty quickly on that area and instead stretched my calves. That one I could definitely remember. After a solid couple of minutes worth of stretching, we finally got going again. My legs were like lead. I realized right then and there that the easiest and least painful way to make it to the finish line was to JUST KEEP MOVING. No more stopping . . . not until I crossed that finish line! Wilson tried to encourage me by telling me we only had "4.5 miles left to go." I felt tears well up in my eyes. I had thought we only had 3.5 miles to go! I looked at Gertie again . . . wait! I was right! "3.5, Wilson! 3.5! Right? Right?!" "Uh, oh yeah!" he responded. Whew, math is hard yo.

Mile 24 - 10:51

Ouch. Shit hurts. Kill me now. Grumpy. Why do I do this?! Wilson tried to cheer me up by pointing out that we were "on the home stretch", AKA Michigan Avenue . . . but I was kind of inconsolable. I just wanted to be DONE! Oh, hi aid station! Why yes, I think I WILL slow to a walk to take my last gel, thank you very much!

Mile 25 - 10:45

So CLOSE. So much pain. Why are these mile markers forever apart?! Oh goody . . . another aid station! I don't even want anything to drink, but I'm going to pretend like I do, just to get a walk break! Please, just make this shit end! Now?!

Mile 26 - 10:01

Still trucking up Michigan Avenue. Right past the 25-mile marker, there was yet ANOTHER aid station. Wilson asked if I thought I could make it through the aid station without walking, telling me there was just a little over a mile left. In my most pathetic, exhausted voice I replied, "I just don't know." We made it 3/4 of the way through the aid station before I stopped suddenly and said, "I just need a second . . . " Wilson tried desperately to convince me to get going again. There were fans lining Michigan Avenue, looking at me with pity. Within maybe 10 seconds, Wilson convinced me and I was moving again, determined to NOT stop until I crossed that finish line. This stretch lasted FOR FRICKIN' EVER. Dear God. FINALLY, I could see the turn onto Roosevelt. We were SO almost there. The crowd noise was deafening as we turned the corner. We just had to make it up over the bridge, turn onto Columbus, and we were home free! I expected the slight uphill over the bridge to be awful, but it wasn't bad at all. I was so close to the finish I could taste my Goose Island beer! There it is! The 26-mile marker! Push it, Irish! Push it!

Last .2 - 9:53 pace

Just as I started to kick a little bit, the turn onto Columbus became a HUGE congested mass of people. I tried to find away around the obstacles in front of me, but I just didn't have the energy. I coasted behind them through the turn . . . and then booked it towards the finish line as soon as I saw an opening. It seemed like the damn thing was moving farther and farther away from me with every step I took! FINALLY, Wilson grabbed my hand and we made it, crossing the finish line at 4:34:05. We had done it!

To Be Continued . . .

2009 Bank of America Chicago Marathon Race Report - Part I

2009-10-13T16:06:00.004-04:00

Remember when I said that I thought this race would end up being very memorable? I think I must be psychic. Or maybe it was simply the running gods trying to boost my rather lacking sense of self-confidence. Whatever the case, I was in a state of euphoria from the moment I stepped foot in Chicago on Friday night. I was so happy to be there that not even the cold could get me down. I got off the plane (grinning from ear-to-ear), hopped into a cab and was on my way to the Loop by a little after 9 p.m. At one point, as my cabbie was approaching downtown, I glanced out the window and saw a sight that left me a little breathless . . . painted on the facade of a building was the same Chicago Marathon image I'd seen decorating countless promotional materials, including our oh-so-important confirmation brochures. I took a deep breath and tried to keep myself from squealing out loud. Just. Stay. Calm.

Once I arrived at the hotel, I found my way up to our room and couldn't have been happier to finally see Wilson after two long weeks apart. While I had been SUPER tired on the plane, I was suddenly wide awake and couldn't help but talk at about a million miles an hour. I don't know how we had so damn much to talk about (we talk every day on google chat and/or by phone), but it was like we hadn't seen each other in years, and I had to hurry to fit in everything I needed to tell him about before I went and forgot it! We ended up staying up chatting, laughing and hanging out until well after 1 a.m. Oops, there goes another one of the rules of marathoning . . . but I just didn't care. I was so thrilled to be able to finally catch up that it was definitely worth trading in the extra couple hours of sleep!

The next morning (Saturday), I woke up ready to be transformed into the nervous wreck I typically turn into the day before a marathon. Somehow, though, it never really happened. I was nervous, sure . . . but not like I have been in the past where my appetite is actually compromised. Wilson and I took our time getting out of bed, and eventually made it up and out to Dunkin Donuts for some coffee and bagels/muffins. Right about that time, my parents showed up at our hotel. We sat in the lobby lounge area for quite a while eating our breakfast and chatting away with them. I know I'm supposed to be an adult, and this probably shouldn't be the case, but I always feel so much more calm and composed with my parents around. I was secretly REALLY happy that they had offered to come into town to cheer Wilson and I on (thanks, Mom & Dad!).

After lazing around for a bit, we realized we should probably get ready to head to the Expo. We headed up to our room to drop off the throw-away clothing my parents had graciously donated to me, and then made our way over to the Hilton at Grant Park to catch the free shuttle to the Expo. We stood on line for a lot longer than we had planned and ended up getting to the Expo later than anticipated, thus ruining any chance of a bloggy buddy meet-up (oops! Sorry, y'all!). We did, however, try all kinds of freebies and checked out as many of the booths as possible before finally heading back to the Hilton. At that point, it was already well past 4:30 p.m. and, having not eaten since breakfast, we were all ravenous. The problem was that we had dinner reservations for 6 p.m., so we didn't dare eat much. Usually, I would have freaked over the fact that my pre-race nutrition was so messed up, but I didn't let myself get worked up over it. I decided to just go with the flow and see what happened . . .

We checked into the condo/hotel/place my parents were staying at for the night and then grabbed some snacks in a nearby deli--carrots and hummus, bagel chips, pita chips, etc. Oh, and of course, some beer! I gladly accepted one when my parents offered--there's nothing like a nice cold beer to calm the nerves! We hung out snacking and watching football for the next hour or so until it was finally time for our dinner reservations at a cute little Italian restaurant near the Sears Tower, where my Dad works. I ordered gnocchi with meat sauce (my favorite), and ate almost the entire plate, I was so hungry! I also filled up on fresh bread with olive oil--YUM. We sat and chatted for a bit even after we were done eating, and my father filled us in on the details of his one-and-only Chicago Marathon experience (back almost 30 years ago). I don't know how this is possible, but I had never actually heard much about his marathon! It was definitely cool to think that I would be following in my father's footsteps the very next morning! :)

Finally, we decided to call it a night, and headed back to our respective hotels. In the past, I'd been pretty sombre at this point of the night before . . . it always seemed to be the point when the reality of how great a task lay ahead of me set in. But for some reason, I was the complete opposite on Saturday night. I was seriously goofy bordering on hyperactive! I insisted that Wilson and I both try on our sexy throw-away looks as practice for "looking sexy" the next morning. Then, we proceeded to dance around our tiny hotel room and carry on like crazy people. Ha, it was seriously a lot of fun. After watching some college football and texting back and forth with my friend A, we hit the sack around 10:30 p.m. anxious to see what the next day had in store for us.

I fully expected to lay awake all night long and not get a wink of sleep . . . that's what I usually do the night before a marathon. But somehow, I ended up falling asleep for pretty good chunks of time. During one of them, I had a crazy ass dream where I was riding in the passenger seat of my mother's car and she got pulled over by the cops. I figured she was speeding or something, but when the cops got to the car, they told me I was under arrest for committing over a billion dollars worth of credit card fraud. It was terrifying, to say the least . . . no matter how hard I tried to convince them that they had the wrong person, they just wouldn't listen. It was nuts. I awoke in a sweat, confused. But somehow, I made it back to sleep even after that.

Our alarms (all three of them) started going off at around 5 a.m., and I was actually kind of relieved to be getting out of bed. Not too long after the relief, though, came the terror. I was FINALLY nervous. Wilson and I got up, made some coffee and turned on CNN as we were getting ready. The reporter on CNN mentioned the Chicago Marathon would be starting in a couple hours and that it would be "extremely" cold. "Have fun with that one!" he quipped sarcastically. I started to get even MORE nervous. Had I chosen the right gear to wear? Would my 18 layers of throw-aways keep me warm enough? What if I couldn't find A? What if the cold killed my sensitive lungs? EEK!

I tried my hardest to force a dry bagel down, and made it about 2/3 of the way before finally giving in. I chugged a cup of coffee, took care of my business, threw my stuff into our gear check bag . . . and suddenly realized it was already past time to leave! Yikes! What if A was waiting for us? Wilson and I hurried out of the hotel and down the street to the Art Institute Museum where we would be meeting A. But when we got there, we couldn't find her anywhere! I was freaked that she had already left for the start without us . . . but we were only a couple minutes late. Just as I went to pull my phone out to see if I could get a hold of A, it began ringing. She was stuck in traffic, and having trouble getting to the museum. Nervous, I told her we would wait for her, but encouraged her to try to hurry.

After what seemed like a lifetime, A finally showed up. I wish I could explain how crazy it is to suddenly see someone you haven't seen in 10 years walk--or in A's case, bound--right up to you out of a sea of thousands of people. It is just bananas. She walked up, gave me a huge hug and then we quickly took off on the short trek to the start area. We had a LOT to catch up on! The three of us were chatting away for probably a good 5-10 minutes before I realized I'd never actually introduced A and Wilson! Oops! I properly introduced them, we walked and chatted some more, and then we came upon the porta-potties--which shockingly, didn't have much of a line despite the fact that it was already past 6:45 a.m. (the race started at 7:30 a.m.). We used the facilities, hit up gear check and then made our way to the open corral. This, my friends, was easier said than done. Our late arrival made it so that we couldn't get up to the 10-minute pace sign like we'd originally planned. Luckily, I didn't care much. After all, I had taken all pressure to PR off of myself . . . and I was was pretty busy trying to keep A distracted from thinking about how damn crazy it is to run 26.2 miles all at once! We settled in somewhere behind the 10:30 pace marker and waited for our turn to begin running.

Finally, the gun went off (or so we assumed--we couldn't actually hear it from where we were lined up). A sea of clothing shot up into the air. I wish I could describe what this looked like--it was basically one of the most hilarious things I've seen. A whole pile of sweats landed right on my head. I shook them off and laughed. There's nothing like getting pummeled with old clothing to lighten the atmosphere! I took off my own throw-away sweatshirt, pants and hat. BRRRRR. It was chilly! Luckily, all of the runners crammed around us provided ample body heat . . . and but for a few biting wind gusts, it wasn't intolerable. Slooooowly, us mid-packers made our way up to the start line. At exactly 20:00, Wilson, A and I crossed the start line together. We were on our way!

To Be Continued . . .

4:34:05

2009-10-12T23:39:00.004-04:00

Well, folks . . . I learned something very valuable this weekend: Sometimes you have to give yourself a little bit of credit. I've always held that I am NOT a mentally tough runner. Sure, I'm REALLY tough when it comes to other activities and areas of my life; but running? Nope. I figured maybe I just wasn't cut out for running marathons. Well, yesterday I went out and I proved myself wrong. Despite my training interruptions; despite my lack of a proper taper; despite the upheaval of my life in recent months; despite all the other excuses I gave myself for not succeeding . . . I went out there and I gave it everything I had in me.

And this time, it was finally good enough. I don't know what it was--maybe the fact that I was in my hometown; maybe it was my lucky earrings; maybe it was the fact that I had a first-time marathoner depending on me--I can't tell you with certainty; but what I CAN tell you is that when sh*t got tough, I hung in there. It hurt like HELL, but I didn't give up. In fact, at one point my mantra was "Just don't quit." And sure enough, I didn't quit. I kept on running until I crossed that finish line. 4:34:05. For those of you keeping track at home, that's a PR by nearly 8 minutes. But most importantly? I took no walk-breaks (with the exception of aid stations--I'm just NOT coordinated enough to drink while running). I was kind of starting to doubt that it was possible for me to complete a marathon without taking any unscheduled walk-breaks. In fact, I may or may not have voiced that very sentiment to my parents and Wilson at dinner on Saturday night. But I did it. And I cannot explain to you how proud of myself I am for that. I'm tearing up right now just thinking about it.

I promise to post a race report at some point this week . . . but for now, I just want to thank all of you. Each and every one of you was on my mind during the race yesterday. I seriously love you guys so much--I'm not sure where I'd be without you. I wanted to make you all proud out there. But most importantly, I really wanted to pay you all back for all of the times you have encouraged me to keep going. And I figured there was no better way of doing so than by . . . well, keeping on going, of course! So thank you to all of you. And also? There's a pretty amazing boyfriend of mine who deserves all of the credit in the world for getting me through the last few miles. I couldn't have done it without him. I actually don't think I could have accomplished half of what I have--in both running and life--without his support. I am truly grateful to have such a kick-ass sidekick :) And finally, I have to thank my parents for their continued support of my crazy little "hobby" . . . and or course, the carbo-loading dinners and post-race beers too :)

On that note, it is time for me to wrap up my little acceptance speech and hit the sack. It's back to school for me tomorrow. But seriously. I really do love you guys! You rock my world in so many ways, I can't even count them all :)

Quick Post

2009-10-08T08:22:00.003-04:00

Hi all! Just a quick post to let you know that I'm still kickin' down here in Orlando. I haven't strangled myself with a barbell . . . or been knocked out by a beer-throwing drunk or anything like that! Things have just been a little bit crazy this week, what with having to take my first exam on Friday.* Oh wait, and then there's also the fact that I've spent nearly every other waking hour (and some sleeping) obsessing over the cold/flu bug I seem to be coming down with (it's been going around my school). Cold-eeze, Emergen-C, Green Tea and water have been my drugs of choice, and thus far, I'm doing decently in my efforts to fight the disease off. Hopefully I can just hang on until Sunday!

Anyway, I apologize for not commenting on all of your lovely blogs over the past several days--due to my procrastinating ways,** I have had to force myself to stay out of Google Reader. There's simply not enough time to do that AND get my study on in the ways necessary to ace this test! Thus, I promise I will catch up with you all either this weekend (if I end up bringing my lappy to the Chi) . . . or at a minimum, early next week.

In other news, my friend A has decided she DOES want to run with Wilson and I on Sunday. I'm really excited about (hopefully) helping her to her first marathon finish! The only problem is that she's a bit of a head case right now. The longest run she got in was an 18-miler--which I tried to tell her was actually very sufficient--but she's all but convinced that she's not going to finish the race. I'm really hoping that she'll change her mind about that . . . I've been encouraging her to think positively, and filling her head with all kinds of positive things However, nothing I've said thus far has seemed to have done the trick. Any advice? I'm actually thinking that maybe I should take a page out of my own book and start minimizing the pressure she's putting on herself. Maybe a "Hey, just go out there and do your best. That's really all you can ask of yourself. And if you don't make it, no worries. There WILL be other marathons when you will have more time to train. And you'll do it then!" would do the trick? At any rate, if any of y'all have ever dealt with a similar situation and found something that seemed to help, do let me know! I want that girl to cross the finish line with me on Sunday!

Okay, I guess that's all I've got for now. I'm heading to the airport immediately after class tomorrow . . . and then it's off to Chicago I'll go! If any of y'all want to track my progress on Sunday, my bib # is 29716. I can't seem to come up with any reason why that would be lucky, but then again, maybe I'll just have to MAKE it lucky by getting out there and finishing yet another marathon!

Good luck to the rest of you racing this weekend--I know it's a lot of you (many of whom will be joining me in the Windy City!). As I always say, "Run like you mean it!" I think I'll do just that!

*I was supposed to take it the exam Monday, but I won't be getting back from Chicago until Monday night--that is, assuming a blizzard doesn't strand me there--thus, I have to take the test before I go; which is okay by me. I'd rather just get it over with and be able to enjoy my time in the Chi.

**I even went so far as to make a HUGE pot of veggie chili last night. Rock bottom, I'm telling you. Studying the human joint actions isn't all it's cracked up to be, folks!

Thoughts on Chicago

2009-10-01T16:07:00.005-04:00

Um, 'kay. So let me start by saying . . . you know what REALLY effing hurts? Doing 4 sets of 12 squats with added weight (only 55 pounds, but STILL) for the first time in almost 10 years--amongst various other intense leg exercises--and then attempting to run several hours later. Or well, maybe it didn't hurt so much as feel really, really bizarre. Basically, it felt like I was running with the deadest legs of all time. Somehow, they were even more dead than after either of my two marathons. Yep, it was THAT bad. Amazingly, I made it through the 4 miles I had set out to run without too much trouble. But let me tell you, I was feeling it today. Good golly, am I sore!

And this incident? Well, it has caused me to realize something. During this taper, I have been breaking all the rules. Ever hear about how you are supposed to ease up on the weights/cross training during taper? Yeah, well I am pushing the weights/cross training harder than I ever have in my life. I just don't have a choice in the matter. You get out of NPTI what you put in . . . and I fully intend on getting my money's worth ;) I am thrilled to be running Chicago; don't get me wrong. It's just that my priorities are in other places right now. I'm simply unwilling to dog it at school just to ensure a proper taper for my marathons. My time here is way too valuable for that.

Thus, after a lot of thought and consideration, I've decided to take the pressure to PR at Chicago off of myself. I'd love to do it, and I'm not exactly admitting defeat here. I'm just trying to be realistic so that I don't ruin a wonderful marathon (that I'll be running with a wonderful man) should I happen to fall short of my original goal. There are just too many crazy factors at play right now for me to honestly say that I expect to run a great marathon. Lookie here:

-There's the fact that my training became royally screwed up as a result of my crazy, last-minute racing schedule this summer (I peaked at 20 miles like 6 weeks ago, and I don't think I have run more than 15 miles since then--oopsies) .

-There's the lack of a true taper thing

-There's the fact that I haven't been doing all that much speed training this cycle

-There's also the fact that I have to recover from this race quickly enough to hop back into training for the Goofy Challenge

Wilson and I had talked a ways back about just using Chicago as a training run for Disney. At first I was pretty game for that. Then, I started PR'ing at some other race distances, and really got into pushing for the PR at Chicago. But I've come back around. Whatever happens happens. I simply want to go out and have a blast running around my good ol' hometown, and spend some good quality time on the road with Wilson :) And I might even get to have a little race-day reunion with a friend from WAY BACK whom I just got back into touch with after 10 years, thanks to the wonder known as facebook. This friend is running her first marathon at Chicago, and let's just say that life got a little bit in the way of her training. So there's a chance it could be a long, slow marathon for us should she decide she wants some company (I volunteered Wilson and I to be her running partners since she's really nervous about the race, but I am currently waiting on a decision from her). Honestly, though, I am fine with that. If she decides to enlist our services, I know without a doubt that it will be reward enough just to cross that finish line with her.

And no matter what, I'm going to spend the day with a BIG, GOOFY grin on my face. Because, you guys, I have been waiting 10 years to run this race. I can still remember volunteering back in high school. The idea of running a marathon was so foreign to me. I thought I'd NEVER be able to run one. And now look at me. This is my third . . . with many more to come. My number one goal for this race is to have as much fun running it as I did volunteering ten years ago. For some reason, I have a feeling this race will be just as memorable as the 1999 Chicago Marathon has always been. Sweet Home Chicago, baby :)

On that note, I'm going to go log a few easy miles. Because for some reason or another, I just can't get enough of running as of late :)

Today A Biker Was Nice To Me (!!!!)

2009-09-28T21:09:00.003-04:00

Okay, so maybe it's just the NYC bikers with their stupid corporate teams and their annoying sense of entitlement . . . but I always assumed that bikers (I'm talking straight-up bikers here; not triathletes who bike as well as swim and run) were assholes. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the dudes in Central Park and/or Prospect Park always seem to try their darnedest to plow my ass over and scream rude obscenities at me every chance they get. BUT. My opinion on bikers changed today. You see, at some point around 5:45 p.m., I set out on the Seminole Wekiva Trail to see what it had to offer a running gal like myself (other than 90-something temps--HATE). I took things nice and easy, enjoying the scenery, and trying not to die of heatstroke (my mantra was "Adapt, yankee! Adapt!"--hey, I had to do SOMETHING to entertain myself . . . I was running sans i-pod).

I set out with the goal of covering the 12-miles I had missed this past weekend while moving (oops . . . sad face), but started to get a little nervous when I realized the heat was already taking its toll on me by around the 3-mile mark. I continued on, trying to figure out what to do. Well, wouldn't you know, I saw a tunnel coming up that REALLY looked exciting to run through. It ran under a major highway in a kind attempt to protect us athlete trail people from the crazy-ass traffic. I got closer and closer to the tunnel entrance . . . and then out came a spiffy looking biker dude clad in blue and yellow. He slowed down like he wanted to tell me something, and I assumed he was going to yell at me for being on the "bike" path. But no. "Just want to warn you, there's a really drunk guy in the tunnel. He seems pretty belligerent. He just threw a beer bottle at me." I was shocked. That? Was the kindest thing ever!

I thanked the man profusely for the warning, and decided it was a sign from above that it was time to turn around. I wasn't about to take on a belligerently drunk man all by my lonesome!! And so I turned back around just after the 3-mile point. I toyed with the idea of just running the out-and-back segment TWICE in order to get the full 12 in, but BOY was I dragging by the time I got back to the trail head. I also started to worry that it was going to be dark by the time I got back to the car after the second out-and-back, which of course, made me nervous. In the end, I decided to call it a day. I had completed 6.11 miles in 1:02. I'm bummed that I didn't get the full 12 in, but I'm calling the run a success anyway, since I am one step closer to acclimating to the shitty weather down here.

In other news, the first day of class was great (other than the fact that I was almost late because I couldn't find the building--ugh--luckily, I at least remembered to wear pants). I've already learned a LOT about the current state of the fitness industry and its problems/issues/trends. VERY interesting stuff. We have to begin training other students tomorrow, which terrifies the crap out of me . . . but as I told Wilson, it's better to be terrified now, when I'm working with other students and have instructors around to answer any questions, than it would be to be terrified of working with my first PAYING clients. I honestly don't know how people who do just a weekend certification program do it! So anyway, I'm facing my fears and getting 'er done. Hooray for me :)

Well, I'm off to pack my lunch and get ready for school tomorrow! Gosh, I love saying that!

Hope all is well out there!

Welcome to Whorelando

2009-09-27T17:20:00.003-04:00

Well, folks . . . I made it! My journey started when the alarm went off at 6:45 Friday morning. We snoozed a couple times, finally rising a little after 7. I proceeded to run around the apartment in a complete state of panic, trying to figure out what I might have forgotten to pack. Finally, at 8:15 a.m., I called my usual car service company to get a car to the airport. "We don't have any cars available right now," the woman told me. "What?! Well, how long is the wait?" I asked. "We don't have anything 'til this afternoon, honey." SHIT ON A STICK. Trying not to hyperventilate, I unpacked my laptop, booted it up and searched the yellow pages for another car service company (does anyone ever use a phonebook anymore?). FINALLY, I found a company who had a car for me. THANK THE BABY JESUS. As I waited for my car to arrive, I tried to say goodbye to my cat. I swear, she rolled her eyes at me and yawned (just FYI, cat . . . I will really NOT miss having your fur all over me all the time). Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the car arrived and I dragged my suitcase, over-sized duffel bag and backpack outside (I chose to forgo the over-sized purse). I was on my way.

On the way to the airport, the driver asked me in broken English which airline I was flying. I replied with "Spirit Airlines" and, I kid you not, the dude LAUGHED at me. I didn't understand why, having never flown Spirit Airlines before. But soon enough, I would find out. First, I had to wait on the sloooooow check-in line (despite the fact that I was, in fact, already checked in) in order to get the tags to check my bags. Then, I basically had to carry my bags down to the aircraft and load them on myself. Okay, so I'm exaggerating a bit, but still, their "self-drop" system was a little odd. When I got onto the plane, I came to realize that Spirit Airlines' strategy for offering discounted fares involves stuffing 3X the amount of people any other airline would ever attempt to fit onto a typical plane. I kid you not, things were so tight in there that my backpack hardly fit under the seat in front of me. A BACKPACK. With a whole lot of jiggling, kicking and shoving, I finally got it under. Of course, there was always the chance that it might not ever come out again . . . but apparently I was willing to take the risk.

The flight itself was uneventful, as I slept through most of it. But the next fun part of my journey was the layover in Ft. Lauderdale/Miami. Please note that this stop was made "on the way" to my ultimate destination, Atlanta. I loved this . . . especially when I learned that the only options for food in my terminal were Dunkin Donuts or Nathan's Hot Dogs. Luckily, I noticed that Nathan's had a grilled chicken sandwich on the menu, which I ordered, requesting that all mayonnaise or sauce be omitted. The girl at the counter looked at me in a state of confusion and asked, "is that all you want?!" Indeed it was. I scarfed the sandwich down and waited patiently for my flight to arrive. We boarded about 30 minutes late, which I didn't think was so bad . . . but along the way, Atlanta decided it had too many flights coming in around the same time, and forced us to slow down. This was delightful, considering I was sandwiched between an obese man and a 6'8 giant of a man, whose gangly limbs had nowhere to go but in my lap. Yay, Spirit Airlines!

Anyway, I finally arrived in Atlanta 9+ hours after I'd left my apartment . . . and I met up with my parents, who had so kindly agreed to lend me a car for the next four months (thanks, Mom and Dad!). We spent the night at a Renaissance Hotel, and let me tell you, the bed was HEAVENLY. Unfortunately, I was so terrified of driving by myself for 7 hours the next day (it was my first time driving in about 3 years) that I couldn't sleep. I think I fell asleep for maybe 20 minutes at one point, but during that time, I suffered a nightmare that ruined my chances of sleep for the rest of the night. Things that went down during this nightmare included: me losing all of my top teeth, me missing the alarm and waking up at 10 a.m., and me somehow running over a small bunny with the car. Yowsers.

Finally, it was 5:00 a.m., and time for me to get up. Did I mention that I had to be in Orlando by 1 p.m. for NPTI Orientation? Yeah, I did. The plan was to leave by 5:45 a.m., but my parents and I were chatting about directions and insurance and various items, and I didn't end up leaving until almost 6:15. In a panic (so what else is new?), I prayed I wouldn't get lost or hit any bunny rabbits. I managed to find my way to 75-S despite a general lack of street signs and a pitch black sky. NICE. I CAN DO THIS! I continued on 75-S for about 15 billion miles, and somewhere in the middle of Georgia, I started to feel REALLY proud of myself. Because, usually? I refuse to do anything scary without Wilson's help. It's pathetic, I know. But I was doing it. And I was proud. And also, I missed Wilson . . . but still, I was proud of myself.

I made it to Orlando with about 15 minutes to spare (yes!) and walked into my hotel to find a bunch of kids, also known as my classmates. Yep, I'm basically the only person above the age of 21 . . . which, now that I think about it, makes sense. On the one hand, it's really cute to see these kids experiencing their own version of "college". On the other hand, the fact that they keep sending me text messages, asking me if I want to "smoke a bowl" and calling me at 12 a.m. is not so cool. I AM OLD, KIDS. DEAL WITH IT. But anyway, the staff of the program who we've met thus far seem really cool, and I am confident that this is going to be a great experience through which I will learn a lot. And isn't that what this is all about? We start class tomorrow morning, so I'll be sure to update you as we go; especially since this program seems like something a lot of you would be interested in doing at some point.

I made a trip to the Super Wal-Mart last night which was, admittedly, a bit overwhelming. I'm used to smaller grocery stores with not the best selection. That's kind of just how it is in NYC--we don't have space for something like a Super Wal-Mart. But, Super Wal-Mart? It's out of control with the selection. It's also kind of scary--you have to watch out for the electric scooters, man. But I survived it, and I am super excited to experiment with cooking for one in a mini-kitchen with one pot, one pan, a steak knife and a can opener that requires a LOT of muscle :) I was going to post a picture of my new digs . . . but when I turned my camera on, I realized that my memory card is missing. Oops. Other random items I forgot to bring include:

-my electronic toothbrush charger (oops; I don't think that sucker can last for 4 months)
-regular, non-running socks (probably don't need 'em, considering it's hot as balls here; but still)
-my glasses (whatever; I never wear them anyway--who needs to see?)
-my checkbook (again, not a HUGE issue in this, the day of the credit/debit card, but still something you want to have)

AND THE KICKER:

-my i-pod. Yep. How the hell did I forget my i-pod?! That is just inexcusable! Oh well, I'm just going to make Wilson bring this stuff (and all of the forgotten items that will continue to pop up over the next couple weeks) to Chicago. I think I can survive until then.

In running news, the fitness center in my hotel is DEFINITELY not an option for running. It would seem that there is NO A/C in the 12 x 8 room they call the "fitness center". I went in there earlier today to check it out and (hopefully) get my 12-mile long run in. Considering it was 90 degrees today with a "real feel" of 103, I knew running outside wasn't going to work . . . especially since I'm still trying to figure out WHERE to run around here. Anyway, I entered the fitness center to find a treadmill from about 1985, a decrepit stationary bike and a dusty stair stepper. I hopped on the 'mill and started running, and was SOAKED within about 10 minutes. It was basically just as hot and humid in there as it was outside, which was a huge disappointment. I was so uncomfortable that I bailed after just 2 miles. I'm figuring our school facility will be a much better environment in which to 'mill . . . thus, I'm postponing the run until tomorrow afternoon (we get done with class at 3, so I'll have plenty of time to run afterwards). Desperate times call for desperate measures, yo!

Also, I don't want to jinx anything, but I checked the 15-day forecast today, and the Chicago weather for race-day looks like this:

Sunday, Oct 11
High: 54 RealFeel: 52
Clouds and Sunshine

PLEASE DON'T CHANGE! PLEASE DON'T CHANGE! PLEASE DON'T CHANGE!

Finally, I promised Beka over at Fair Weather Runner that I would write her a haiku on my blog in order to earn an extra entry into her AMAAAAZING race training kit giveaway going on right now (check it out here! You have until Friday to enter!). So without further adieu . . .

The Leaves of Autumn
Calling You To Chicago
Beef Will Be Consumed

Checking In

2009-09-23T19:22:00.002-04:00

OMG, so much going on right now! I leave for Orlando on Friday morning, so I have been desperately attempting to pack my life up into 2 checked bags (at $19 a pop . . . ugh!), a back-pack and my over-sized "purse" (haha, tricky tricky!). I keep thinking to myself, "if only I didn't have so much running crap!" Man oh man . . . there's a lot of it. Well, then there's the separation anxiety I'm having over leaving much of my everyday clothing, accessories and shoes behind. I KNOW it's just four months, but I'm seriously attached to some of this stuff! Sadness . . .

Anyway, I just wanted to update y'all and let you know that I smashed my half-marathon PR last weekend without having to try very hard! Woohoo! Somehow, I had a SERIOUS half-marathon bad luck streak going on there for a while: twice I had run while seriously ill, and twice I'd run in serious heat with little to no aid station support. So yeah. Needless to say, my previous half-marathon PR (2:19:49) wasn't anything to write home about. In fact, that PR was earned in my VERY FIRST attempt at the distance (sinus infection and all). Basically, the goal for Sunday's Queens Half-Marathon was to run the entire race without walking (minus aid stations), and I did that successfully. Wilson and I took things nice and easy, and I managed to earn a new PR in the process. It's still not a very good time (2:15:34)--I know I am capable of so much more--but the important thing is that the bad luck streak has been broken! Race report to come . . . eventually :)

Hope you're all having a great week!

Great Giveaways!

2009-09-16T12:47:00.002-04:00

Hey y'all. Just a quick note to let you know that there are some great giveaways going on right now!

Ana-Maria over at Running and Living is giving away Chocolate #9 energy gels. Says Ana-Maria, "It tasted great . . . like melted chocolate, much better than the Chocolate Gu." Um, yummy? Go HERE to enter the giveaway.

Mel over at Mel Tries To Run has a great giveaway going on as well! She's giving away two prize packs that include the book "Running Hot" by Lisa Tamati (an incredible Ultrarunner), as well as Dean Karnazes "50 Marathons 50 Days." Go HERE to enter Mel's giveaway.

Other than the giveaways, these are two FABULOUS blogs . . . so even if you aren't interested in the giveaways, you should totally check them out!

Happy Hump Day! :)

Hiya! And Also, Fitness Mind, Body, Spirit Games 4-miler

2009-09-15T22:04:00.005-04:00

Okay, I think I'm going to have to blame this on what I like to call "unemployment brain" . . . but seriously? How on earth did over 2 weeks pass without me blogging once? Sheeesh! I had no clue it had been that long! I swear, I have absolutely no concept of time these days . . . I need to get down to Orlando and get into some kind of a routine STAT!

Anyway, despite the mini-blogging hiatus, I HAVE been getting my training runs in for the most part. The only thing that has been kind of difficult is that I have been nothing short of a racing FOOL as of late. And let me tell you, it gets kind of tricky trying to manipulate a marathon training schedule in order to accommodate all kinds of random distance races at all kinds of random times. I'm not going to complain about this, as I have nobody to blame but myself. I mean, no one is holding a gun to my head and forcing me to run all of these races; rather, these races are the result of my stubborn insistence that I MUST get as many of my NYRR qualifying races in as possible before I leave for Orlando in a week-and-a-half . . . because, damn it, I WILL be running the NYC Marathon in 2010, thank you very much! :)

You see, New York Road Runners members can earn automatic entry into the following year's NYC Marathon by running NINE qualifying road races during the preceding year and volunteering for at least one other event. Well, in the past month or so (since quitting my job), I have run in 4--soon to be 5--races: 2 4-mile races, a 5K, a half-marathon, and I will be running yet another half-marathon this weekend. Sigh. That's just . . . a lot. To say that I'm slightly burnt out on racing would be the understatement of the century. In fact, that right there explains why I haven't been posting race reports for these races (sorry, folks). The truth of the matter is that my performances have been mediocre at best, and I simply haven't felt like reliving the races by writing up race reports. Part of my bad performance stems from the fact that I've been forced to do things like run TO the races from Brooklyn (the volunteer at packet pick-up laughed at Wilson and I and asked, "Is this your second race of the day or something?" as we stood in front of him, dripping with sweat. His jaw dropped when we told him we'd run 8+ miles from Brooklyn to get there). But mostly, I've just not cared all that much. I've been treating the races as nothing but a means to qualify for NYC in 2010, and frankly, it has shown in my times.

The good news is that I'll have accumulated EIGHT qualifying races (and my volunteer requirement) by the time that I leave on September 25 . . . so I'll just have to come back to NYC one weekend before the end of the year to race (and visit Wilson too, of course). Another piece of good news is that, after weeks and weeks of racing, I FINALLY earned a PR last week at the Fitness Mind, Body, Spirit Games 4-mile race.

Highlights from the race included an appearance by Bob Harper of Biggest Loser fame . . . AND? An unexpected pep talk from none other than KARA GOUCHER before the start of the women's race (the men ran first at 9 a.m.; then the women competed afterwards at 10 a.m.)! EEEEK! HOLY GIRL CRUSH, BATMAN! Mary Wittenberg (the prez and CEO of NYRR) was giving some last minute instructions, when all of a sudden she stopped, and told us that there would be a special appearance from an unexpected guess who happened to be passing by. When she announced Kara's name, there was an audible GASP! from the crowd. I have never been so star-struck in all my life (and this is coming from the girl who used to drive around celebs like Robert Downey, Jr., Shia Labeouf, Channing Tatum, etc.)! My jaw dropped to about 6 inches from the ground. I guess Kara just happened to be out for a run in Central Park, noticed us all lined up to start the race, and she wanted to come over to see Mary Wittenberg and give us a nice pep talk. Um, wow . . . how is THAT for an added dose of inspiration?! My 'tude quickly shifted from, "UGH.COM; another stupid race!" . . . to "OMIGOD, I LOVE RUNNING! AND KARA! AND ALSO RUNNING! WEEEEEEE!"

We took our marks, got set . . . and we were off! I decided to start out conservatively. I was hoping to PR (previous PR was 35:34), but JUST BARELY, as I was hoping I could do so, but save enough of my legs to still get in a 20-mile run the next morning. The first mile passed in 8:28, which honestly, was a bit faster than necessary . . . but it felt pretty easy, so I just went with it. I continued on, feeling pretty decent, focusing on staying with this girl with a lime green claw clip in her hair. Unbeknownst to me, I picked it up during mile-2 and ended up with an 8:20 split.

Mile-3 is where the NYRR 4-milers in Central Park ALWAYS get a bit hairy for me. The stretch is just REALLY hilly and rough. My legs felt good as I started up hill, but after a while, I began to feel my breathing going. It was pretty humid out, and the thick air combined with the struggle of climbing up hill eventually got me to the point where I was very nearly on the verge of having a full-blown asthma attack. I tried slowing down the pace, but it wasn't enough. As shameful as I felt, I knew I had to slow to a walk to get my breathing under control. I ended up having to walk for a good quarter-mile or so before I finally felt like things were under control. The walking led to a heinous mile-3 split of 10:01.

As I resumed running, I did so at a pretty half-assed pace. I knew a PR was still in my power, but that I was going to have to push myself really hard and suffer pretty badly to earn it. I thought about just phoning it in, and giving up on the PR. I felt myself returning to the same mentality of "Really, who cares if I PR? I just need to finish for this to count as a qualifier." But then, I thought of Kara. I thought, "What if she was watching you right now, cheering on the sidelines or something? Is this the display you would want her to see?! Is this effort representative of who you are as a person and as a runner?! HELL NO, it's not. Pick it up NOW!" And I did. I embraced the pain and suffering I was going to have to endure to end up with a PR. And I went for it with all I had left in me.

I pushed myself so hard during that last mile, that I crossed the finish line, hit stop on Gertie, and immediately collapsed onto the fence that marked the finishers chute. Wilson was right there, congratulating me, but I was on the verge of passing out, and couldn't figure out what was going on. Finally, I recovered enough to look down at my Gertie. 35:32. I'd done it! I'd finished that last mile in 8:28! This meant, I'd PR'd by 2 seconds despite my stupid walk-break during mile-3. Hallelujah! I know that this run was nowhere near what I am capable of, but still . . . it felt good to have overcome an obstacle and still ended up with a PR.

In retrospect, I'm realizing more and more that, rather than complain about having asthma (ask Wilson how many times he's heard this one on a humid day), I have to be smarter about how I deal with it. Rather than continuing to really push myself when the breathing starts to go, I have to slow my pace down earlier. I've been waiting WAY too long to slow down my pace recently. Inevitably, it leads me to a point where I have no choice but to walk in a situation like Saturday's. If I was a bit more attentive and slowed my pace down earlier on, I could likely avoid walking altogether. In the long run, this practice clearly would give me MUCH better race times (after all; slowing to, say, a 9 minute mile for all of mile-3--rather than continuing to push and getting myself to the point of no return--would have saved me over a minute!).

Ah well, another race . . . another lesson learned.

Ha, I'd forgotten how good those PRs feel! I want another one SO badly! I'll be SHOCKED if I don't come away from Sunday's half with a PR. Yes, I'm planning to run 20 miles on Friday, two days beforehand . . . but still, watch out for me Queens Half. I'm coming for you! No excuses ;)

Walking Bike

2009-08-28T12:39:00.003-04:00

You guys . . . I just have to share this with you because it is too funny not to! One of my college friends, Deka, has a blog called "That's Hideous" ("Bringing attention to all things ugly"), which you may have noticed on my blogroll to the right. Well, her blog is basically awesome; it's one of my favorite guilty pleasures--always makes me smile no matter how crappy my day may be. Recently, she posted this--and I couldn't help but laugh, picturing one of my blogger triathlete friends showing up to a tri with these "wheels" (and yes, this is for real)! See Deka's post here: walking bike.

Update Time!

2009-08-27T12:42:00.004-04:00

First of all, thank you so much for your supportive and downright amazing comments on my last post. I debated for a long time whether or not this was the forum to vent in such a crazy-detailed way, but in the interest of "keeping it real", I figured I'd go for it. As it turns out, it was a GREAT way of kind of getting everything out of my system, and I'm already feeling much better about things. That's not to say I won't still be pissed off about it from time to time, but I think there's really something to writing down what you are feeling. It's just totally super-duper therapeutic. So yay.

NOW. On to my next step! On September 26, I will be heading down to Orlando, FL for 4 months to attend the National Personal Training Institute's residential program. During those months, I will live in an "extended stay" style hotel room/condo (which will probably seem like a palace compared to my current shoebox of a NYC apartment!), and I will attend the program full time (from 9-3 everyday). I will get to take classes in everything from anatomy to natural health nutrition to sports medicine to business and marketing; I basically get to learn everything one would need to know to work as a personal trainer. Fun, right? And the best part of the program (and what differentiates it from most other certification programs) is that I will get 500 hours of actual training experience in by training my classmates. How cool is that? Oh, and I also love that I'll leave the program certified as both a personal trainer AND a nutrition consultant!

Which leads me to the NEXT step. Wilson and I have been talking a lot lately about moving to the San Francisco Bay Area (ha, we may or may not have gone so far as to "research" Bay Area soccer clubs for our future kids! I'm a soccer mom and I don't even have any kids yet! Help!). You see, Wilson's in school for animation right now, and will be finishing up in less than a year. Well, guess where there are lots and lots of great animation employment opportunities? San Francisco! Yay. Soooo . . . we're keeping our fingers crossed that he'll get a sweet gig out there, and we can move cross-country within the next year! If and when this happens, I'm most likely going to start a grad school program in nutrition, and will continue to train part-time to make some income while I get my master's. Hooray! :)

Now, I'm not sure at this point what my ultimate career goal is. I've toyed with the idea of starting my own personal training/nutrition/running coaching business; but I'm also really interested in getting into the fight against childhood obesity . . . so I might look for something more along those lines. Regardless of what I end up doing, I'm just SO excited to have finally found an area that I am so enthusiastic about, and to have such a great plan in place (or at least I think it's great). My friends and family have all been really supportive, which I think is just awesome . . . although, like I said, I think they mostly just wanted me out of my old job!

So there you have it . . . my "plan" for the next few years. I seriously just can't believe how perfectly this has all worked out. I feel so ridiculously blessed! Alright, more soon . . . but for now, I'm going to head to my gym to get some weight-lifting in. Ah, the perks of being unemployed! :)

"The Firm" - A Life Report

2009-08-24T10:26:00.007-04:00

Hi guys! Sorry it is taking me so long to get you the update I promised. In all honesty, life has been kind of weird since leaving the ol' law firm job. I'm going to try to explain why--not because I want sympathy or anything (I am positive there are TONS of people out there in far worse situations than I was in)--but rather because I think I need to get this out of my system in order to heal a little. Since I can't exactly afford therapy, and I'm pretty sure my mother will cut her ears off if she has to listen to this any longer, I thought it might help to blog about this and get it all down "on paper." :) I promise I will move on after this, and will treat you to a happy, upbeat update as to what is next for me. Please bear with me through this post (or feel free to skip it completely, as it will be pretty heavy on the whine!) . . .

So I'm sure by now you've gathered that things were bad for the 3 paralegals (or "donkeys", as we called ourselves) in my department at my ex-firm (let's call it "the firm") . . . like REALLY bad. I know most people imagine horrible, cut-throat, long hours environments when they picture NYC "Big Law", and that's partly true . . . but my firm (as much as they don't want to believe it) went above and beyond that level of suckage. First of all, let's go WAAAAY back . . . back to how I even ended up there in the first place.

So I graduated from college with a degree in Film, Television & Theater. My original dream was to work in documentary film making. But, like 95% of film school graduates, I ended up PA-ing (PA=production assistant). I did that for 2 years here in NYC before I got sick of the long hours and low pay, and essentially gave up. I decided that entertainment law might be a good option for me, but first I wanted to see what it was REALLY like to work at a law firm. I submitted my resume to a temp agency, and almost immediately got placed at a monstrously huge NYC law firm. Although I had to work some long hours at times, it really didn't seem so bad. I started studying for the LSAT and researching law schools. Since I was on a long-term temp assignment at that firm, I figured I could just hang out there until it was time for me to start law school in a little over a year.

BUT, something happened that put a bit of a wrinkle in my plan. After 6 months of temping at that firm, I came home--on a Friday evening--from a week-long vacation in Greece, where my niece had been baptized, only to run into a fellow temp employee in the subway. He informed me that a group of attorneys on my "team" (the case I was working on) were leaving to go work at another law firm, and were taking the case I worked on with them. I was floored. As soon as I got home, I anxiously called around, trying to get any information I could about what was going to happen to me; but I couldn't seem to get any answers. I was forced to wait 2 agonizing days until I returned to work on Monday to talk to anyone. When I finally did, I found out that the members of my team that were leaving were interested in taking me with them to the new firm.

Considering I would most likely be offered a permanent position at the new firm, and could FINALLY have actual, real health insurance (for the first time in 3 years!) I figured I'd be crazy not to go over there. I--along with two other litigation paralegals from my previous firm--interviewed at "the firm", were offered positions there, and accepted them all within about a week's time. Thus began my nearly three year long career at "the firm".

Now, when I first got there, things were pretty okay (or so I thought). Admittedly, the place seemed a tad bit disorganized . . . nobody knew where I was supposed to sit when I started, the training/orientation was basically non-existant, we had huge problems trying to access important electronic files, etc. But I chalked it up to "the firm's" NY office being much smaller than my previous firm's NY office and tried to remain optimistic. Within a week or so, we were finally getting settled (in our own private offices nonetheless--that would NEVER have happened at our previous firm! Half of us were stuck in secretary stations there due to space constraints). I was thrilled to learn that we were even invited to a Paralegal Appreciation Banquet one night during our first week. "They actually appreciate us here?!" I thought. Little did I know that this type of "appreciation" was TOTALLY out of the ordinary, and was basically just an act to make us newcomers think the firm was something it wasn't . . .

Throughout the next three years, things got progressively worse. For starters, I made the mistake of working WAY too hard early on, trying to prove myself. Now, this happens everywhere, I realize . . . but it didn't take long for people to begin taking total advantage of the fact that I would bust my a$$ to the point of endangering myself. We all had pretty heavy case loads, but mine was continually much larger than the other paras in the department; mostly because I wouldn't say no or give attitude about having to work long, hard hours. Within about six months, I had lost faith in the legal profession and had decided I no longer wanted to attend law school. The problem was . . . I was working so hard and so much that I didn't have time to explore other options. Little did I know that things would soon get MUCH worse.

Well, right around my one-year anniversary at "the firm", I got assigned to yet another HUGE, full-time case. Apparently our paralegal manager didn't think it was a problem that I was already working absurdly long hours. At that point, I was assigned three full-time cases (at any other law firm, there would have been at least 3 paralegals assigned to those three cases), in addition to a handful of smaller cases on the side. I was almost literally killing myself trying to keep up with everything that was asked of me. And why? Because a couple of attorneys on the new case had requested me, and our manager didn't want to have to deal with telling them no.

After just 4-5 days of juggling the additional case load, I was experiencing such terrible stress symptoms (nausea, loss of appetite, shortness of breath, heart palpitations, chest pain), I went to talk to the manager who had assigned me to the case. I was convinced that she would HAVE to help me . . . after all, I had been working from 8 a.m. until 11 p.m. or midnight every day, and I was actually becoming ILL from the stress I was under. No such luck, though. She basically told me that I should try harder, and "give the new case more of a chance." It was completely asinine. I went directly to HR and let them know about her inept way of dealing with what was--in my mind--a VERY serious situation. Our HR rep apologized and promised to look into it; but it turns out that the HR rep was in the middle of being promoted, and left the NY office before she actually got around to dealing with the problem. I had nowhere to turn. I continued working anywhere from 13-18 hours a day, trying my hardest to get everything done that was asked of me--basically, all in an attempt to avoid being screamed at by any of the attorneys I worked with. At one point, I was so scared for my well-being that I gathered up all of the email correspondence I had between my manager and I, and the HR rep and I, and sent them to my sister and Wilson, "just in case anything happens to me". Not even kidding; that's how bad it was.

Around the same time, the entire department got really busy. One of the paralegals who had come over from my previous firm had already gotten fed up and left "the firm" (less than a year after we had started, nonetheless), and much to our surprise, "the firm" refused to hire anyone to replace him. We split his work amongst ourselves, and again, tried the best we could manage to get it all done. On multiple occasions, we BEGGED for help, and each time, we were told that we weren't at "full capacity" (a seemingly made up term for which we never did get an actual definition), and that they would not be hiring anyone to help us. We soon lost another paralegal from the department, who transitioned into a completely different role at "the firm". Guess what? He wasn't replaced either. Fast-forward another year . . . yep, there goes another paralegal from our department without any replacement. Within two years of starting at "the firm", we had dwindled from 6 department paralegals down to 3, despite the fact that our workload was the same as when I had started. Also around this time, we lost our manager. She supposedly quit, but we were convinced that she was actually asked to leave. Know what's funny? Not even SHE was replaced . . . nope! Instead, a litigation partner was put in charge of "managing" the litigation paralegals; this was basically the worst idea ever.

We thought it was bad before? HA. We had no idea how bad it would get with the partner in charge of us. At least when we had an inept manager, she would try to deal with issues (she just didn't happen to do a very good job of it). We may as well have had nobody managing us with that partner in charge. We were his ABSOLUTE last priority; not that I blame him. I mean, if I had spent years and years suffering, working my way up the corporate litigation ladder, I wouldn't want to listen to 3 paralegals bitch and moan either! But the fact of the matter was that the only worthwhile HR rep had been the woman who got promoted and left NY, and without so much as a manager, we had no one to turn to for help. Things got even worse than we ever imagined they could, and the only defense we had was for us three donkeys to look out for each other, and pitch in whenever we could to make things easier on whomever was busiest at any given moment--we had no choice but to band together in an attempt to protect one another.

One rough day in late October 2008, a big new case came in. Now, there is another partner at "the firm" who is basically one of the worst people you can imagine working with. He's cocky, he's callous, he doesn't know anything about anything . . . he basically got to where he is by kissing a$$, and somehow managed to not learn anything in the process. He frequently makes ridiculous demands without even thinking about what he is asking. In short, he doesn't give a shit about anyone he works with (he once tried to insist that a 7th year associate, who was 8 months pregnant and wearing 3-inch heels, go with our managing clerk as he rushed downtown to try to file a document before the court closed; when she asked if she could at least change into her sneakers, he snapped at her, "ABSOLUTELY NOT!"). Now, I volunteered to help out with the new case that came in that day despite the fact that I was already swamped, mostly because I didn't want either of the other two paras in the department (A & C) to have to deal with him. He came over from my old firm, so I was just far more familiar with and used to his abusive ways than they were. But things got seriously out of control that day. I was attempting to juggle about a billion things, while trying to get 4 billion forwarded emails with 80 billion attached documents printed up, organized and copied. On multiple occasions, he screamed at me so violently and personally insulted me in such a way that I actually became rather terrified of him. I was sprinting through the office in heels, carrying stacks of paper as tall as I was, completely anxiety-ridden over the possibility of receiving another abusive phone call from the man, and as you may remember, that's when I tumbled down an entire flight of marble stairs.

I wish I could explain to you how horrible it was, you guys. I was in SO much pain and was SO stunned when I finally landed at the bottom, and yet all I could think about--as soon as I made sure that I wasn't paralyzed-- was what state the documents were in and how angry that partner was going to get. When I had fallen, it was with such force that a bunch of the binder clips had broken and documents had flown EVERYWHERE. Five separate people rushed over to me with the speed of Usain Bolt, and they all tried to get me to stay down and not move; but within 30 seconds I was up, collecting the documents, and trying to run back to my office to get help from A, who sat next door to me.

That's right, folks. Although my entire left arm--shoulder to fingers--was screaming in pain, and swelling larger and larger by the minute, I made sure the documents were re-organized and distributed to the team before leaving for the emergency room. Thank goodness A wasn't terribly busy at the moment and she graciously volunteered to help me. We put a set of the documents back in order, and then she brought them upstairs to the jerk partner who incredulously asked her, "What on earth took so long?!" She told him I had fallen down the stairs, to which he replied, "Well do the other team members have their documents yet?!" They did not have them. So we got back to work, reorganizing the rest of the documents and passing them out to the other team members. When this task was finally complete about an hour later, A and I ventured off to the ER together, without anyone from HR . . . or anyone else at all, for that matter.

While I was in pretty serious pain, I still returned to work the next day, arm in sling. Basically, I was so scared that A & C would have to handle my work on top of their own mountains of work that I couldn't fathom staying at home . . . and so I went in. In fact, two weeks of crazy-busy (and painful) work passed before I finally felt like I could take a day off. Unaware of the fact that I had apparently used all of my sick days for the year (HR was supposed to send a reminder when I had one day left; but had apparently decided to stop doing this without telling anyone), I called out for two days to try and rest my stupid, maimed arm/shoulder, figuring that the two days HAD to somehow be covered, since I had missed them due to an injury I had obtained at work (of course, nobody in HR bothered to talk to me about what the procedure was regarding workers comp and disability). Well, wouldn't you know, at some point--over three months later--I was informed that I would have to pay "the firm" back for those two days I missed. I tried to explain that I had only missed those days because I had injured my arm when I fell, but it didn't matter. The HR rep I spoke to explained that those days were not covered, and that they would be taking the days out of my next paycheck. End of story. Awesome.

On top of that, I should mention that, a few days after my fall, I met with the partner who managed us to try to discuss the fact that his jerk partner colleague had been treating me really unreasonably in the hours leading up to my fall. Now, please note that this dude did not ask to meet with me; I had to harass him on multiple occasions to even get the meeting scheduled (I'm sure he had little interest, considering he was overseas when it happened and his response to the fact that I had fallen was, "Oh great. Now I'll have to deal with this crap when I get back."). Anyway, he basically suggested that I was overreacting regarding the jerk partner's behavior and that it was my own fault that I fell because I should have been using my (useless, I should mention) secretary for help if I needed it. Feeling this was an unsatisfactory answer, I went to HR for help. Once again, they never responded; not that I really expected them to. I was told that the HR rep I needed to speak to would contact me to discuss the issue. She never did. By this point, I had all but given up hope that anyone in that place would do anything to solve any problem that ever arose.

On countless occasions, the other two litigation paras and I had begged various people at that firm for help--various partners, everyone in HR, anyone we could think of. It never worked. My colleague, A, went through a REALLY rough trial at one point, where she was working until 1 or 2 a.m., only to have to be downtown at the trial site to move 40-50 boxes (without help, in the freezing cold) by 7 a.m. the next morning (please note that A is a tiny, petite female who weighs approximately 95 pounds). I was helping her for most of that trial, forced to ignore my own work, which would pile up so badly, I had to spend the entirety of my weekends at work catching up on it all. I would go weeks without a day off (or even a single day shorter than 12-hours). Our third donkey, C, was in the same boat too. And still, nobody would help us. We met with the partner who managed us on probably 12 different occasions to discuss getting help and we were always met with the same answer: "I'll look into it." But nothing ever happened, no matter how exhausted and/or overworked we were. It was just insane.

I think the worst of it, though, was back maybe six months ago. Since I'd started at "the firm", we had this annoying "weekend paralegal coverage" situation, where the litigation paralegals would take turns being "on call" each weekend in case a litigation emergency came up. Now, at first it wasn't SO bad because there were 6 of us in the department. When the department shrunk to 3 paralegals, though, it seriously sucked; every third weekend, we were on call; meaning we were glued to our blackberries and cell phones, ready to come into the office at a moment's notice. We couldn't leave town; we couldn't go out drinking; I mean, I would run long runs with my blackberry, "just in case." Anyway, at some point in time--about a year ago--someone had also decided that, not only would we be on call every third weekend; but we would also be on call all night, every night for the entire work-week following our on call weekend. We had never been paid for any of this "on call" time; we were told that nobody else at the firm got paid for being on call, and neither would we. For some reason, we never questioned this despite the fact that we seriously felt like that had to be a lie.

Well, one day we found out that the litigation secretaries actually DID get paid $150 a day when they were on call on the weekends. We were just chatting with one of the secretaries as she helped us with a project, and she casually mentioned it. To say that we were enfuriated to find that out would be the understatement of the century. I immediately stopped what I was doing and went back to my desk to search "the firm's" electronic document storage system. Not surprisingly, I found an "IT Support On Call Procedures" form that mentioned, of course, on call IT Support personnel getting paid a stipend; as well as various on call claim forms that were to be submitted to payroll. Basically, the NY litigation paras were the only non-exempt employees in the entire firm who didn't get paid to be on call. Considering we were on call so much and so often, this royally pissed us off.

We went to HR. For some reason, despite the fact that so much had happened to crush our hopes at that place, we went into the meeting optimistic, thinking that there had simply been a miscommunication and that we would be re-paid for the time we had been on call at "the firm". We should have known better. We were basically told that we were "more like the attorneys" at the firm (we were constantly lumped into either the "business services" or the "legal" category, depending on what was most convenient for the firm in any given situation), and that it was expected that being on call was part of the job description; whereas for the secretaries and IT Support personnel (AKA "business services"), it wasn't expected, and so they needed to be paid for it. I tried to argue that whether or not we should get paid was NOT based on our classification as either business services or legal staff, but that it was dependent on the fact that we were non-exempt employees vs. exempt, like the attorneys; but this woman was SO rude . . . she wouldn't even let us get a full sentence in without cutting us off. She cut us off time and again, suggesting that we were horrible and ungrateful employees. She stated that paralegal jobs are only for people who want to go to law school (this, despite the fact that none of us was actually interested in attending law school; and that C--someone who is RIDICULOUSLY smart and talented, but has simply lost like 10 or 15 years of his life to doing paralegal work, and never figured out what it was he wanted to do--was in the room; it was SO offensive), and that we should just be happy to have contacts at a NYC law firm. We pressed her further, and she finally lost her cool and yelled at us, "Oh C'MON! Would $100 REALLY make a difference?! I mean, HONESTLY!" The whole meeting was just SO insulting, and needless to say, we never got paid for all those hours we were on call. We talked a bit about speaking to an employment lawyer to see what he/she thought, but we just never got around to it.

But it was at that point that I was officially done. I realized I needed to get out . . . and was simply working on creating some kind of an out for myself. As I mentioned on this blog at one point, Wilson and I had decided that if I made it to next June, I would quit no matter what was going on at the time. Well, needless to say, I didn't quite make it that far. A little over a month ago, we had our summer litigaiton event. A bunch of us ended up at a bar afterwards, all pretty drunk. A and I were pretty down in the dumps, considering we got stuck talking to the head partner in the litigation department for 20 minutes, and had to listen to all sorts of details about his 3 summer homes and various trips his family would be taking throughout the summer. Well, somehow our friend, M (a third-year associate), got into a heated discussion with one of the other litigation partners about how horrible things are for the litigation paras, and how wrong it is that we are treated so poorly. Before we knew it, the "conversation" turned into an all out shouting match. It got so bad that I had to leave the bar; it was just TOO uncomfortable to watch M putting her career on the line in an attempt to help us. Of course, the partner was SO out of touch with reality that he was totally blowing off everything she was saying, and it was just depressing the hell out of me.

I realized right then and there that things were never going to change at that place; and that the nearly three years I had spent trying to fix that place were a complete waste. I also felt seriously guilty that M had risked her career to stand up for us. While I had thought all along that continuing to fight for proper working conditions at "the firm" WAS standing up for myself, I suddenly had an epiphany and realized that the only way to truly stand up for myself and gain back my self-respect (which I honestly had so little of left by that point, it was just pathetic) was to get out of that place. If things were THAT bad, there was a very simple solution . . . JUST LEAVE! So I went into work a bit hungover the next day, and I began cleaning my office out. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I wanted to know that should it come to it, I could leave at a moment's notice. The funny thing about this is that the only person who even questioned me about why my office was suddenly so clean/empty and where all of my personal items had gone was a guy from the mailroom!

A couple of weeks passed, and I STILL couldn't get up the courage to give my notice. I think I was honestly convinced that I would just stick it out until next June. Well, then came the news that I posted about a few weeks back . . . the news that A and I would be in charge of TWO big trials at once, starting in late August. We were both in a state of panic over it. About two days after we found this news out, A called out sick. She came back the next day, Thursday, and told me she would be putting her notice in the next day. I was in shock. I realized right then and there that I had to get out too. I knew that if I didn't, "the firm" would drag its feet in hiring a replacement for A (if it hired anyone at all, that is), and I would be put in charge of BOTH trials and would be all but killed.

I called Wilson, seeking advice. He told me he really thought that I should quit, but that I needed to come up with a plan before I took any steps toward doing so. So, I ignored my work and spent the rest of the day that Thursday searching for "my plan". Wouldn't you know--it was like divine intervention or something--I came up with a plan by the end of the workday, and presented it to Wilson that night. He thought it was perfect. I called my mother and she thought it sounded great too. I'm pretty sure my plan could have been to join a nunnery or raise baby snakes and they both would have agreed to it; that's how badly they both wanted me out of that place. Anyway, by 1:00 Friday morning, I had decided to put my notice in as well. So on Friday, July 31, A and I both put in our notice, after talking it through with C. We were sad to have to leave C behind--after all, the three of us donkeys really only had each other to rely on in that place--but he promised us that he would soon be on his way out of there as well. Within a few weeks, he should be gone too (thank goodness!).

I really do wish I could say that we left on a positive note, but we were treated pretty horribly even upon our departure. The partner and HR rep we gave our notice to never responded to us, never wished us luck, never thanked us for killing ourselves for them for 3+ years, nothing. In fact, the partner who managed us tried to deny us the leaving drinks that departing employees at our firm typically get. Luckily, there was enough of an uproar about that that he finally approved them (of course, he didn't bother to show up to them). At my exit interview, I tried my darndest to get out everything I felt/thought about my experiences at "the firm", but it's just so hard in a situation like that . . . I mean, how do you adequately convey the level of abuse you suffered for three years in a 45-minute interview? Not to mention, when you know it won't make a difference, it's a little hard to care. The HR rep we met with for those exit interviews was less than sympathetic when we flooded her with tales of our suffering; she simply tried to suggest that maybe we were lazy (HA!) and "not quite cut out for the legal field" (well, she's certainly right about that one!); she also flat out called us unprofessional for leaving at the same time. I just laughed in her face and said, "I don't owe this firm anything. I've already given more than I ever should have to this place. A and I are both leaving for school programs, we both gave the proper 2 weeks notice, and we both went above and beyond what was required of us in terms of organizing our case files. What exactly is unprofessional about the way we are leaving?!"

So here I am, over a week later, still trying to process everything that happened in my three years at that place. It's a tad bit overwhelming, to say the least. For some reason, I really thought leaving there would make me feel better about life, but I actually feel worse. It's like, as long as I was there--as hopeless as I felt at times--deep down, I felt there was always a chance that things could get better; but my leaving that place was essentially admitting that it COULDN'T get better. So along with my job, I seem to have lost my optimism. I ran a 5K on Saturday, and I gave up in the middle of it because it was hot, humid and super hilly. I just got to this point where I felt an overwhelming sense that things WOUDLN'T get better. I ended up with a personal worst by over 2 minutes in that race. I wish I could say that I'm okay, and that everything is better now that I am out of that place . . . but frankly, I'm not exactly okay, and it's going to take some time to heal after everything I went through there. I'm a completely different person than I was when I started there--and it kills me to admit that I let that place affect me like it did. I guess when you are beat down and disrespected so many times, and made to feel like you are a worthless piece of shit, it's hard not to let it change you. The worst of it is that I feel like I've lost so much respect for myself , just knowing I allowed them to treat me that way. I guess I just have to learn from it and never let it happen again. As painful as it may be, I know reflecting on this stuff and using it as a lesson is the only way I'm going to be able to move past it.

So I apologize that I've been so absent lately. I'm trying to not be so selfish . . . but it's just been hard to sort through all of this stuff. A and I met C for lunch the other day, and A said she's having similar issues. I guess time will heal this stuff; but it doesn't make the present any easier, you know? Anyway, I'm going to work on being more positive and putting this whole thing behind me. I already feel a little bit better, having typed it all out. If you are still reading at this point, thank you . . . and congrats; you are finally getting to the end of it all! I promise there is a happy update post coming up soon! I hope you are all enjoying the last few weeks of Summer :)

Whew!

2009-08-16T21:02:00.002-04:00

It's been a whirlwind couple of weeks, folks. I have lots of updates to give, lots of blog reading/commenting to do (my google reader is up to 431--yikes!!!), and lots and lots of plans to make. BUT, the good news is that I'm officially out of that horrid, horrid job; thus, I should have plenty of time to do said things! More later (I'm such a tease, I know!) . . . but for now, I have some sleeping to do, as Half-Marathon #4 was completed today, and took QUITE a lot out of me (suffice it to say my disastrous half-marathon streak continues).

I'm thinking tomorrow may just be the best Monday ever! :)

I'm a Quitter . . .

2009-07-31T21:15:00.005-04:00

. . . and I'm not talking about my running when I say that.

Ladies and gentlemen of the interwebs: I, Irish Cream, finally quit my terrible-horrible-no good-very bad corporate litigation paralegal job yesterday. That's right. Mark it in the history books that on Friday, July 31, 2009*, I finally grew the cojones to give my two weeks notice (which, trust me, was VERY kind of me considering the ways I've been abused at the place). My last day in the legal field will be August 14, 2009. From that point on, I will be on a journey . . . a journey that honestly scares the bejezus out of me. But also a journey that will (hopefully) be fulfilling and filled with passion; and yes, perhaps even some happiness! :)

I've mentioned in recent times that I'd "been thinking" about going into some sort of fitness and/or nutrition field. Well, yesterday was the day that I took my life into my own hands, said "enough is enough," and decided to make that happen. As Wilson so eloquently commented on a facebook status of mine that announced this news to the world, "suck it, corporate law!" Yes, suck it indeed!

So there you go. Life is good. And scary. But still good. Yes, very good.

More soon on my "plan" . . . but for now, I just wanted to celebrate the fact that y'all will never have to hear me complain about that awful job ever again! :)

*I need a good name for this new holiday so that I can officially celebrate it each year. Any suggestions? I used all of my brainpower writing my (literally) two-line letter of resignation yesterday! Ha.

Who Doesn't Love a Good Deal?

2009-07-29T14:52:00.002-04:00

Hey homies! Guess what I figured out today (please don't laugh at me if this is ancient news)? Did you know that Amazon.com can basically substitute for a Sam's Club and/or Costco membership WITHOUT THE MEMBERSHIP FEE (or the need for a car, in my case). Yes, I am just very excited about this. I am especially pumped about the fact that they have a "back to school" promotion going on between July 20 and September 6 where if you purchase eligible grocery items, you can save up to 40% off of them!! Awesome, right? But guess what's awesomer (not a word, I know)? There are lots of runner-y (also not a word) items that count as qualified items! For instance:

-Powergel!
-FRS energy drinks
-about a zillion different kinds of balance bars
-about 2 zillion different kinds of power bars
-lots of healthy, organic products

And just for Spike, I had to point out that there are also about 16 zillion kinds of pop-tarts that count towards the promotion (breakfast of champions, right?)!

So here's the deal. Buy any 2 eligible products and save 20%; Buy any 3 eligible products and save 30%; Buy any 5 eligible products and save 40%. And did I mention that all of the eligible items ALSO qualify for free shipping?! They do! Anyways, you should totally take a look if you are in marathon training and/or have a large-ish family. They have lots of food you probably buy pretty regularly--cereals, pastas, snack foods, drinks, gums, etc.--and it's a decent way to save a little mula (so that you can run more races, obviously). Um, yeah . . . so just go here to shop, and then enter the code BCKSCLO9 at check-out!

Hahaha, can we just say that I am ridiculously excited about the potential of receiving 6 tubs of organic peanut butter and like 60 individual packs of my favorite smart start cereal (not very earth-friendly, but I might actually be on time to work if I ate my cereal in a convenient to-go container) in the mail in a few days. Although I should probably figure out a place to store it all . . . NYC apartments are SO not conducive to bulk grocery shopping . . .

Okay, now on to actual running stuff. I forced myself through a brutal speed work-out last night. I seriously wasn't feeling it, but I gutted my way through a 10 min. warm-up + 2 x 1200m + 4 x 800m + a 10 minute cool down. I completed the workout on the 'mill at the gym because it was humid as f*** out, and also was supposed to storm. I ran all of the intervals at a 7:53 pace (was going to speed up a bit for the 800s, but decided to take it easy on myself, considering I'm a bit out of practice with the speed stuff). All in all, it was a pretty difficult workout . . . kind of kicked my a$$ a little bit. I think I've just been logging so many easy miles since Seattle that I'm a bit rusty when it comes to picking up the pace. Still, I made it through the workout without too much trouble, so I'm pleased. I finally feel like I'm getting back on track with marathon training (whew)!

I'll be trying a recovery run at my ACTUAL prescribed recovery pace tonight (10:44 to 11:14, according to the McMillan calculator). Confession: I've never actually run anything close to recovery pace before. Even when I was logging "recovery" miles throughout the past few weeks, they were WAAAAY faster than that. I'm not sure if I can run that slow, but I'm sure going to try! Looks like I'll be on the dreadmill AGAIN because it is storming . . . AGAIN. Ugh.

Okay, back to work. Just had to share (especially considering it is eerily slow at work today--um, could this be the calm before the storm? Yikes!).

Per Usual, I Spoke Too Soon . . .

2009-07-27T19:51:00.002-04:00

Well, oops. I kind of inadvertently lied to y'all (and myself) about work lightening up :( Ugh.com. You see, I showed up to work this morning expecting an easy day of light filing and mucho blog-reading. Somehow, though, within the first two hours I was here, I was staffed to a HUGE matter that will be quickly ramping up for trial over the next 6-8 weeks. This basically means that I will be living at work with little time to eat, sleep or blog. I'll still try to squeeze the training in because . . . uh, well . . . I kind of have to do that one. As many of you have pointed out, I have a marathon quickly approaching! This situation makes me sadder than you can imagine, you guys. I'm going to try my best to get (and stay) up-to-date with y'all, but if you don't hear from me (both on this blog and in the comments of your own blog) over the next couple of months, I seriously apologize! If it's any consolation, I've set June 30, 2010 as my absolute latest exit date from this job. At that point, you will be so sick of me writing boring ass posts and commenting all over your blogs that you'll probably find a way to block me (is that even possible?)! I love you guys for putting up with me . . . I really do! ;) Keep your fingers crossed that this doesn't get too bad :/

Where Has The Past 2 Weeks Gone?

2009-07-25T19:01:00.003-04:00

I wish I had some kind of a good story about where I've been the last 2 weeks, but the truth is so boring, you'd probably all spontaneously combust upon reading it. So instead of describing my boring ass job in detail, let's leave it at this: Lots of work and work events, a little bit of running here and there, and that's about it. The good news is that things should finally slow down for me at work during the next month or so (fingers crossed!). And also? I managed to not quit despite one HELL of a torturous filing the other day. That's always a good thing. So things are looking up . . . I think.

In other news, I am officially back in training for the Chicago Marathon! I'm pretty pumped about it, despite the fact that this first week just didn't go well at all. I was SO totally wiped and constantly crunched for time that I barely managed to get in my two mid-week key runs at all, and both were cut short . . . the first because I was so exhausted I could barely move (boo), and thus figured my time would be better spent catching up on sleep than dragging ass through another couple sets of intervals; and the second because I had to return to work and was a bit short on time. Still, I was happy to have squeezed what I did in considering how busy I was.

I'm looking at next week as a new week, and am spending the rest of this weekend resting up and recovering from the past couple weeks of hellish work. Ha, of course, because I'm in training, this weekend's R&R will include a long run of somewhere between 13-15 miles. But still, I got 10 hours of sleep last night and took a 2.5 hour nap earlier this afternoon . . . the focus is on resting, I promise! :)

Hope you all have wonderful weekends! I'll be catching up on your awesome blogs soon, I promise!

Work Sucks, but Giveaways Rock :)

2009-07-10T15:04:00.006-04:00

Well, this week has turned into more of a recovery week than I ever imagined it would; no running AT ALL since Tuesday. I guess 12-15 hour workdays will do that to you . . .

Oh well. I'm hoping to get 6 miles in tonight (although I'm stuck at work until at least 8--ugh), and then maybe 9-10 on Sunday. After that? I have one more recovery week left before it's back into training for Chicago! I had dreams of following one of the Pfitz plans this time around (12/55), but I'm just not sure I'll have the time (hello, mid-week 12-milers!). I may have to stick with the FIRST plan for now (and by "for now", I mean "until I get a new job"). Boo. Or maybe work will ease up within the next week? I'm not getting my hopes up, that's for sure . . .

I'm ridiculously sleepy and just plain boring right now . . . so why don't you all head over to Marlene's blog and congratulate her on her AMAZING transformation and her 500th post! 500 . . . wow, that is just awesome! I hope I can make it to 500 someday! As a little incentive, she has an awesome give-away going on right now (see here). You've got a week to check it out!

Happy Friday, everyone! :)

Apparently Recovery Weeks Make Me a Little Goofy . . .

2009-07-07T15:57:00.004-04:00

So goofy, in fact, that I went ahead and signed myself up for the Walt Disney World Goofy's "Race and a Half" Challenge from January 9-10, 2010. What, you might ask, is the Goofy Challenge? Why, you race the half- and full marathons back-to-back; as in the half-marathon on Saturday, followed by the full marathon on Sunday. Piece of cake, right? RIGHT?! Oh crappers . . . What have I gotten myself into?!

You see, Wilson had been talking about running the marathon there for decades, and when he went so far as to actually REGISTER (gulp), I figured I had to one up him. I kid, I kid--my logic was flawed, but not THAT flawed. The truth is that the lure of THREE medals and THREE race shirts was just too much for me to handle (this, despite the fact that the hefty registration fee might just cause me to file for bankruptcy)! I mean, why run one or the other and come away with just ONE medal? If you run two, you come away with THREE of them! What a DEAL! So um . . . yeah. Looks like I'll be doing lots of running in the next 6 months or so!

In other news, I also signed on to run the Ragnar Relay Del Sol with a bunch of running bloggers (and Wilson too!) in late February! The race starts in Prescott, AZ and finishes in Mesa, AZ, with 12 runners each covering 3 legs of 3-8 miles over a period of about 24 hours. I've heard AWESOME things about these types of relays--so I'm SUPER EXCITED (and super grateful to Chris for pulling the whole thing together)!

Other than that, I've just been taking it nice and easy, taking a little time to recover before jumping into training for Chicago. I ran a super easy 7.5-8 mile run (somewhere around there--Gertie was left at home due to a dead battery) on Sunday and an easy 5.5-ish miler tonight (I was all zen runner again like whoa!).

Oh, and Wilson and I went out and bought tennis rackets over the weekend, so we've been embarrassing ourselves out on the courts whenever we can get a free court. I'd forgotten how much fun it is!

I think that's all I have for now . . . hope you all are having a super week! :)

My Second First Marathon: A Rock N' Roll Seattle Race Report

2009-07-03T19:42:00.004-04:00

As I mentioned previously, I had decided to treat Rock n' Roll Seattle as my "second first marathon," so to speak. My first attempt at the distance (the 2008 Los Angeles Marathon) had resulted in a disastrous 5:26 heat-exhaustion induced death march (see here). Somehow, though, I was not scared off by that nightmare of an experience; rather, it only made me hungry for redemption. Here's the story of that race for redemption.

I started marathon day at the ungodly hour of 4:15 a.m., when I was abruptly awoken by the blaring hotel alarm clock. Now let me tell you, I was SERIOUSLY confused and disoriented when I woke up--I am SO not used to actually falling asleep the night before a race! I couldn't figure out where the time had gone . . . until finally, I realized I must have somehow managed to fall asleep. I was super excited about it. Well, I was excited about that and the fact that I was about to embark on my second first marathon! I immediately got up and got myself ready to go. Once lubed, dressed, and sun-blocked, I drank some coffee and made a weak attempt at eating some breakfast. My nerves had shown up in full force by this time, though, and they were SO not willing to let me enjoy my bagel. I downed a third of it and gave up, snagging a banana on my way out the door.

Trying to choke down some bagel

I met up with four of my college friends who were in the next hotel room over, and we headed off on the two block walk to the shuttle buses together. We got there a few minutes after 5 a.m., and there was already a HUGE crowd of people waiting on line (the buses ran from 4 a.m. to 6 a.m.). Luckily, though, they were quite organized and were moving people out pretty quickly. Finally, it was our turn. I kissed Wilson goodbye and my friends and I hopped on a school bus to begin the journey to Tukwila. I was sitting next to a girl who I knew I should probably talk to . . . but I was just so nervous, I could hardly talk. We chatted briefly about my race belt, then went back to silently freaking out. After maybe a 20-minute bus ride, we finally made it to the start area with about 45 minutes to spare.

The process of shuttling 20,000+ people from downtown Seattle to Tukwila

Pre-race photo of our little ND Marathon team

We went about our pre-race routine--gear check, porta-potties, stretching, hydrating. Finally, we headed to our respective starting corrals with about fifteen minutes until gun time.

So there I was in Tukwila, WA . . . about to start my "second first marathon." And hey, all it took was one torn knee ligament, one near-paralyzing fall down the stairs and one 3-month bout with bronchitis to get to that start line! To say it was a long time coming would be the understatement of the century. I took my place in my corral and waited for the much anticipated start of the race. I reminded myself of the Facebook comment I'd read earlier that very morning from Lisa. She had said, "Remember to stick to your race plan, thank volunteers, high five people along the way and HAVE FUN!" I thought about this wonderful advice as I made my way up towards the start. Finally, my corral was given the okay to go, eight minutes after the clock had started. We were off!

I felt like I could fly . . . but I knew I didn't dare allow myself to do so. Thus, I settled into an easy pace between 9:40 and 10:00, just as I'd originally planned. There were people passing me left and right, but I didn't care. I was sticking to my plan, and I was feeling great. As there were a couple of cheer squads near the start who were clearly hungry for some high-five action, I got right to work at slapping high fives and having some fun. I also made a point to cheer for the first several bands we passed and pump my fists when they cheered us runners on. Um, I know I just said this, but seriously you guys, I was having a blast! I was having such a great time, I didn't even notice that the first few miles had taken us through a rather boring industrial area! I was off to a great start.

Mile-1: 9:52
Mile-2: 9:40
Mile-3: 10:01

After mile-3, we started making our way towards Lake Washington. Around mile-4 I got a nice boost when my friend Allan came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. I was so excited to see him that I increased my pace for a minute just to enjoy his company for a bit. Finally, I knew I had to let him go, so he continued on and I slowed back down, wishing I had someone to run with. Wouldn't you know . . . right about that time, the black shirt girls appeared out of the crowd and seemed to be running the PERFECT pace. I would end up following them for the next 4-5 miles until I lost them at an aid station--they were angels!

Mile-4: 9:32
Mile-5: 10:24 (gel break)
Mile-6: 9:58

Somewhere around the Mile-6 marker, we made it to Lake Washington, and holy crap, it was GORGEOUS. We ran on a road right alongside the lake for the next 3 miles, and the time seriously FLEW by. I was still following the black shirt girls, who were holding the PERFECT pace for me--it felt effortless. This was by far my favorite portion of the course. It was flat, shady, breezy and absolutely stunning! Someone even said they saw a bald eagle in this stretch (darn it! I wish I would have seen it!). It was like some kind of running dream, I tell you!

Mile-7: 9:53
Mile-8: 9:53
Mile-9: 10:05 (gel break)

After the Mile-9 marker, the full marathoners split off from the half-marathoners to complete about a 2.5-mile out-and-back along the Lake Washington bridge. I got to see Allan again on my way out, which made me happy. I smiled and gave him a thumbs up because I was still feeling awesome! I remember thinking, "Holy crap, I can't believe I'm already over a third of the way done! I feel like I've hardly done anything at all!" I kept trucking along on the bridge, enjoying the beautiful scenery all around me. Then something odd happened. A chipper runner ran up from behind me, passed me and said, "We couldn't have gotten a better day, could we?" I responded that yes, it was beautiful . . . but almost immediately thereafter, I realized how hot I was getting. Ouch. For the first time in the race, we were out in the open with no shade to cover us. Luckily, though, there was still a decent breeze coming up across the bridge.

Mile-10: 9:42
Mile-11: 9:57

Right around Mile-11, I first noticed that crazy pain in my legs. It was bizarre and frickin' all over the place. "You're fine, Irish," I told myself. "It's just a little achiness. Hang in there." It probably didn't help that all I could see at that point was a huge uphill stretching out in front of me. There was a voice in my head telling me I couldn't make it up that hill running . . . but I proved that voice wrong. I kept on chugging. Also during this stretch, we apparently came back together with the half-marathoners. This totally freaked me out for some reason. I guess I hadn't studied the course map quite as diligently as I'd thought because I did NOT remember this happening! I was convinced I had made a wrong turn or something--and I seriously wanted to cry. But it also gave me some adrenaline at the same time.

Mile-12: 9:39
Mile-13: 10:26 (gel break)

I crossed the half-marathon mat at 2:12:44. I realized that I was doing a GREAT job of sticking to my plan. But then, shortly after I had crossed the halfway point, I saw a girl collapsed on the side of the road. I don't know what it is, but something about seeing people collapsed and needing medical attention always makes me start paying more attention to how I'm feeling. I realized I was pretty damn hot and my legs were killing me. "Maybe I'll just walk . . . just for a minute." I slowed to a walk just for a minute or so. "What the f*ck am I doing?! Get running, Irish! NOW! Don't be such a wimp--you'll see Wilson around Mile-16. Just make it to that point, okay?" I resumed running (albeit slowly), despite the fact that I was headed up a never-ending incline and embarking on a long-ass double out-and-back segment spanning from Mile-14 through Mile-26.

Mile-14: 11:16
Mile-15: 10:47

After running nearly two miles of gradual incline with no end in sight, I got pissed. REALLY pissed. I was SO OVER hills. I eventually slowed to a walk . . . again. As I did so, I suddenly realized my arm-pits were KILLING me. It was then that I realized I had somehow forgotten to use body glide in that crucial area. "Ugh, AMATEUR, Irish! You know better than that!" I thought about stopping at a medic tent to see if I could snag some vaseline, but decided not to for some reason. I kept on a-walking, anxious to see Wilson and finally have a running partner.

Mile-16: 11:55

Now, originally, Wilson and I had thought while looking at the course map that he would meet me at the Mile-16 marker since it appeared to be just a few blocks from our hotel. But um . . . what we failed to realize was that the Mile-16 marker was literally inside a tunnel with basically no access to spectators. UGH. He couldn't get to me, and had to come up with an alternate plan. I was seriously sad, thinking I might never see him. Still, I knew I had to keep on going. I picked it up and resumed running, trying to ignore the awful pain that was taking over my legs in muscles I never knew I had.

Mile-17: 10:16

When I got to the Mile-17 marker, I had all but given up hope of finding Wilson. I was hot as hell and my legs were absolutely KILLING me. I started to wonder if the deep tissue massage I'd gotten five days earlier was maybe a bad idea . . . because I was feeling soreness in places I'd never felt before--inside of my knees? Check. Outside of my quads? Check. Top of my ankles? Check. Front of my hips? Check. Ouch. Oh, and did I mention that we were STILL going uphill? 'Cuz yeah, we were. Thus, began my full-out mental breakdown. I slowed to a walk with little hope of ever running again. But then, off in the distance--like some kind of beacon of running happiness--I saw Wilson. THANK GOD. He joined me and we continued to walk on. I told him about the crazy leg pain I was having. He got me to run a little bit, but for the most part, I spent the next several miles walking.

Mile-18: 12:23 (gel break)
Mile-19: 13:16

Finally, at some point during Mile-20, I got some kind of magical second wind. Or maybe I just stopped being such a wuss. Whatever the case, we had turned around on the out-and-back, and were finally headed back towards Qwest Field and the finish--and I was determined to run as much of the last 6 miles as possible. I took off running and focused on just putting one foot in front of the other.

Mile-20: 12:37

I came up with a mantra; I think it was something like "Just Keep Running, Run Strong," and it really seemed to help to repeat it over and over again in my head. So there I was running on when most people around me were succumbing to the pain and walking. It felt like I was in some kind of a zone . . . that is, until I got the stabbing pain in my left shoulder blade. I screamed out loud, and Wilson looked at me like I was crazy. I'm assuming it had something to do with my shoulder injury combined with my form beginning to fail, but lordy was it painful! I managed to keep going and tried to focus on good form, and soon it faded to just a dull ache.

Mile-21: 9:41
Mile-22: 10:27 (gel break)

Miles-23 through 25.5 were brutal. They were out in the middle of a highway, again leaving little hope for shade. The temp was up near the mid-70s and the sun was shining strong . . . I was basically FRYING. In addition, I felt like my calves were on the verge of cramping like crazy. Still, it was as though I had finally figured out the mental aspect of how to just keep running. There was no stopping me now . . . um, well, except for every time I saw an aid station. Then I was DEFINITELY stopping. And probably drinking multiple cups of fluids. But still, with the exception of the aid stations, I was doing a great job of pushing on. My pace was basically crap . . . but it was a mental victory for sure.

Mile-23: 10:25
Mile-24: 11:05
Mile-25: 10:57

Right after the Mile-25 marker, there began a DEVASTATING uphill climb. It hadn't looked that bad on the course elevation map, but dear lord was this hill evil. As we were in the middle of another out-and-back along the Alaskan Way Viaduct, I had run down it in the opposite direction and I just KNEW it was going to eat me alive. Everyone around me was walking. I so wanted to keep running . . . but I swear to god, I felt like I was moving backwards. It was just too much. I slowed to a walk and attempted to crest the hill as quickly as I could hobble up it. As I was limping up the beast of a hill, I heard a voice ask Wilson and I, "How are you guys doing?!" all chipper like. I kind of wanted to punch this girl, but luckily, I was just too tired. "I've been better," I muttered. Wilson, being a decent human being asked Miss Chipper how she was doing, "Oh, I'm GREAT!" she replied. I resisted the urge to vomit on her. Finally, I crested that b*tch and was getting ever closer to the finish.

At some point soon after we had crested the hill and were making our way down an off-ramp back to street level, Wilson told me he was going to hop off at the yellow fences ahead. I had no clue what this meant and responded, "Okay, bye bye," not realizing that we still had almost a half-mile to go before we got to that point. I was seriously out of it and really confused when he continued to run by my side. Finally, just before Mile-26, we hit the "yellow fences" better known as the finish chute and Wilson jumped out, telling me to finish strong.

Mile-26: 12:08

I sped up for a few seconds and passed about a dozen people, but then I realized I just couldn't hold the pace to the finish. I slowed a bit, but maintained my position. Finally, I saw it . . . the glorious finish line. I cruised on in. FINALLY, I was done.

Mile-26.2: 9:12 pace

Finish time: 4:41:55.

I stumbled forward, looking for water anywhere I could find it. Finally, up ahead, I saw people handing out bottles of sweet, magical H20. Whew, thank goodness. I snagged one and continued forward to grab my medal. I proudly put it around my neck, thrilled that I had managed to improve my previous time by 45 minutes, despite not really feeling that well and nearly losing it all back at Mile-16. I wandered around, grabbing at various food items--a banana, a couple of orange slices, a granola bar, iced tea (seriously?! iced tea?!). I grabbed a mylar blanket, knowing I would probably get cold seeing as how I had soaked myself continuously with cups of water since somewhere around Mile-12. It was a little chaotic in the finish area, but finally I found my way out and started over towards the gear trucks. I had quite a scare when the gear truck couldn't find my bag . . . that is, until the volunteer asked me if I was sure I had the right truck. "Of course, I have the right truck," I thought. But then I looked up and realized that NO, I didn't have the right truck! I was one off! Oops . . . maybe I was more out of it than I thought! Finally, I found the right truck and got my gear back, and headed back to the family meet-up area to find my friends.

Wouldn't you know, they ALL had earned themselves PRs as well! I made a joke that it was scientifically impossible for me to NOT earn a PR, considering how badly I'd done in my first marathon . . . but still, I was just thrilled. I felt like a 4:41:55 was a far more appropriate "first marathon" time for me. I had done it. I had FINALLY redeemed myself. There was a little part of me that was disappointed that I hadn't pushed harder during the rough miles between Miles-16 and 20, but hey, I'm still new at this. And I think I learned A LOT during this race that will help me to run even better races in the future.

Looking back, I think the most amazing thing to me is how "easy" the race was in comparison to my first one. I guess I had never realized how bad of shape I was in during the LA Marathon . . . I mean, I know that heat exhaustion can be devastating, but I just had NO CLUE how bad off I was. I had secretly thought that maybe I just SUCK at longer distances, and that's why it was so difficult for me. Having gone through another one, I can say without doubt that I CAN do this. In fact, I think part of the reason I felt the need to stop in those middle-miles was that I kept waiting for it to get as bad as it did in LA. When I realized it wasn't going to get that bad, I was able to get back on track and finish relatively strong, all things considered. It's a little bit disappointing, knowing that I probably could have pushed myself harder and hit my goal time, but at the same time, I think it was a GREAT lesson in marathoning. I'll take that knowledge with me as I embark on my next training plan and marathon. I can't wait to see what I can do now that I finally have a little extra confidence and experience under my belt!

But first, I will rest for a couple of weeks--I've earned it after all :)

No. 2 = DONE

2009-07-01T11:45:00.002-04:00

Hi all! Just a quick note to let you know that I didn't die on Saturday. I finished in 4:41:55 . . . which I would have expected to be disappointed in (I was hoping to run under 4:20). BUT, considering I basically died somewhere around mile-16 and managed to come back to life by mile-20 and run the majority of the last 10K, I'm feeling pretty proud. The most important thing is that marathon number 2 is done, and I'm actually feeling very excited about getting back into training! Race report to come soon! ;)

BUSY, BUSY!

2009-06-22T16:22:00.003-04:00

You guys, I PROMISE I still love you all (how could I not?)!!! It's just that it is now race week (yikes!), and shizz is CRAZY, what with last minute planning and trying to squeeze all of my little errands and chores in before I leave (VERY early) on Thursday morning (note to self: next time you do a marathon vacation like this, a) plan ahead a little better and b) take an extra day off BEFORE you leave to take care of all of this stuff so that you aren't so darned stressed out!).

Anywho . . . tonight, I'll be getting my first ever deep tissue massage, and I am basically terrified. I am such a wimp; I'm not sure how this is going to go. But oh well. I'm sure it will be worth it in the long run, considering my left shoulder and neck are so f'd up I feel like my head is on crooked (not to mention there are knots in my calves the size of my head)! Oy vey.

I'm not going to lie, I'm probably not going to have much time to catch up on your wonderful blogs until I return home from Seattle (I'm sorry!) . . . but let me just say that I look very much forward to doing so. I love you guys! Okay, back to work for this girl!

Eek, 5 days!

Just Call Me Piggy!

2009-06-19T12:53:00.006-04:00

Okay, here's another post I promised about a century ago. Fair Weather Runner has been waiting a long time for this one, I know . . . It's my Snapple Big Apple Barbecue Block Party report! I think there was also supposed to be a long run report that went along with it, so I'll do a speedy recap of that, and then get to the good stuff. I apologize ahead of time to any vegetarians out there (you might want to skip the BBQ report)!

So the abbreviated version of the long run report goes like this: Had 12 on the schedule, ran with Wilson, left 30 minutes later than planned, felt like my legs were dead by mile-2, stopped to stretch, considered cutting the run short, but kept on going, there were 80 bazillion races going on in the park (bike and running), it was kind of annoying, stopped to take a vanilla gel around mile-5 (yes, the same flavor I'd puked up the previous week), gagged the second I opened it, but then managed to suck it down without losing it, resumed running, moved to the dirt path instead of the main asphalt road in an attempt to stay out of the race participants' ways, tweaked my ankle a little bit on some stupid roots sticking out of the ground, kept running, finally cut the run short at 11.09 miles (my ankle was feeling pretty wobbly and Wilson was struggling too). Then we grabbed HUGE Dunkin' Donuts iced coffees to celebrate. The end.

THEN? It was time for BBQ!!

Now first, let me explain what this event is. As I mentioned, it's called the Snapple Big Apple Barbecue Block Party, and it's basically the best thing ever. It is held in Madison Square Park, and it attracts the nation's top pitmasters. As the event webpage explains:

"At the 2009 Snapple Big Apple Barbecue Block Party, 15 of the nation’s top pitmasters showcased their unique, award-winning regional barbecue styles, including new additions from Alabama, Tennessee and Missouri."

The pitmasters represented (shown along with the restaurants they represent and the menu selections they would be serving for $8 a plate) were as follows:

Ken Callaghan
Blue Smoke - New York, NY

Kansas City Ribs & Pickled Okra

Pete Daversa
Hill Country - New York, NY

Beef Brisket & Cool as a Cucumber Salad

Joe Duncan
Baker’s Ribs - Dallas, TX

St. Louis-Style Ribs & Jalapeno Coleslaw

Jimmy Hagood
BlackJack BBQ - Charleston, SC

Pulled Pork Shoulder & Coleslaw

Chris Lilly
Big Bob Gibson Bar-B-Q - Decatur, AL

Pulled Pork Shoulder & Crisp Spicy Southern Mustard Coleslaw

Patrick Martin
Martin’s Bar-B-Que Joint - Nashville, TN

Western Tennessee-Style Whole Hog with Sweet Pickles

Mike Mills
17th Street Bar & Grill - Murphysboro, IL

Memphis Championship Barbecue - Las Vegas, NV

Baby Back Ribs & Beans

Ed Mitchell
The Pit - Raleigh, NC

Whole Hog & Coleslaw

Garry Roark
Ubon’s “Champion’s Choice” - Yazoo, MS

Pulled Pork Shoulder & Coleslaw

Drew Robinson
Jim ‘N Nick’s Bar-B-Q - Birmingham, AL

Homemade Smoked Sausage with Pimento Cheese & Saltines

Michael Rodriguez
The Salt Lick BBQ - Driftwood, TX

Beef Brisket, Sausage & Coleslaw

John Stage
Dinosaur Bar-B-Que - New York, NY

Pulled Pork Shoulder & Beans

Skip Steele
Pappy’s Smokehouse - St. Louis, MO

St. Louis-Style Ribs & Beans

John Wheeler
Rack & Soul - New York, NY

Baby Back Ribs & Beans

Ed Wilson
Wilson’s Barbeque - Fairfield, CT

Texas Style Brisket & Coleslaw

Okay, so now for some photographic evidence of the feast we had. We started with three plates of BBQ a piece (our friend Tri had already eaten one of his while standing on line--it just smelled TOO good not to!)--If I recall correctly, these were from The Salt Lick (the brisket, sausage and coleslaw plates), 17th Street Bar & Grill (the ribs and beans plates) and Hill Country (the beef brisket with cucumber salad plates):

Here I am enjoying one of my favorite things on earth . . . the to-die-for sausage of The Salt Lick (Driftwood, TX).

After finishing the first three plates, we were still aching for more barbecue . . . so we grabbed another round. I think this one was from The Pit.

I am pretty sure this next plate was from BlackJack . . . although, I'm not 100% sure.

I was so stuffed by the time we got to BlackJack (plate number 5!), that I just couldn't do it. Turns out it wasn't that awesome anyway (whew!) As you will see below, I forced Tri to eat my last plate. I don't think he minded :)

Finally, here I am with "the carnage" as we called it. As you can see, we kind of ate a lot. Tri won first place with 6 plates, Wilson ate 5 plates and I ate a measly 4 plates. I think I'm going to have to train for this even next year so that I don't come in last place again! Speaking of carnage, please don't mind my protruding dislocated left collar bone; it's the result of my infamous tumble down the stairs back in October. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it's kind of gross. But I live with it . . . so the least you can do is look at a picture where it's sticking out all over the place! Ha, I kid, I kid. But it is kind of disgusting . . .

As we were leaving, we stumbled upon one of the "whole hog" tents.

If you thought that last picture was gross, wait until you see this one, where the pitmaster men are actually digging crap out of the hog. Also, we saw the one dude drop his sunglasses into the hog. That was almost enough to force my stuffed gut to lose its contents.

Oh ribs, you are so beautiful to me!

A shot of the crowd. I usually steer clear of mass chaos like this . . . but not when there's meat involved! This was literally the best day ever!

In other news, I think I erroneously led some of you to believe that my marathon is THIS weekend. No, it's just that I'm so psychotic that I start looking at the weather reports on accuweather as soon as they are available (15 days beforehand!). The race isn't actually until a week from Saturday. Thank goodness, because I think I'll need some extra time to burn all of that pig and cow off! Whew!

Hope you all have an amazing weekend! :)

Who Wants Some Banana Bread?

2009-06-19T10:32:00.003-04:00

Seeing as how I'm trying to prevent myself from checking accuweather for the 5 billionth time today (high of 77 on race day?! Yikes!), I figured I should make good on my promise to Heather at Trials of Training . . . and post my infamous "healthy" banana bread recipe!

Now in the interest of full disclosure, it does taste a teensy bit "healthy". If you're used to buttery, sugary banana bread, it's not going to taste THAT good to you. But still, it tastes REALLY freaking good . . . especially for something that's not all that bad for you! I personally think that it tastes delicious enough that I never need to make "real" banana bread ever again! And the great thing is that it is very moist, which is the biggest complaint I've heard about "healthy" breads like this. If you happen to have any over-ripe bananas laying around, don't throw them out! Make this bread! :)

INGREDIENTS:

1/3 cup applesauce
1/2 cup honey
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 eggs
4 mashed bananas
1/2 cup flaxseed
1 3/4 cups whole wheat flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 cup hot water
1/2 cup chopped walnuts (optional)

DIRECTIONS:

1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C).

2. In a large bowl, beat applesauce and honey together. Add eggs, and mix well. Stir in bananas, vanilla and flax seed.

3. In a separate bowl, mix dry ingredients (flour, salt, nutmeg and cinnamon). When well-mixed, fold dry ingredient mixture into the wet ingredients.

4. Add baking soda to hot water, stir to mix, and then add to batter. Blend in chopped nuts if using.

5. Spread batter into a greased 9x5 inch loaf pan. Bake for 55 to 60 minutes (but check as soon as 40 minutes--baking times can vary). Cool on wire rack for 1/2 hour before slicing.

Enjoy!

Thank You, Google!

2009-06-17T13:53:00.002-04:00

Ah, the wonders of the interwebs. Thanks to their magnificent randomness, I found the coolest thing today . . . and I just have to share. I was bored out of my mind, googling everything I could think of to google, and after reading Absolut(ly) Fit's post about how she's signed up to run the Running with the Devil Marathon (pretty bad ass, huh?!), I decided I wanted to read more RWTD race reports (I do this a lot--google race reports for random races. It's sad, I know). So out came the google, and wouldn't you know, one of the first reports I found was from The Story of A Redshirt blog.

Now, I like to think of myself as a relatively green and earth-friendly person, and I have frequently wondered about the bins of running clothes I own and pondered how environmentally friendly/harmful they are. Well, unlike me, Jeremy actually took the time to research and find this info out. It turns out, many of the "technical" running clothes many of us treasure are not only environmentally harmful, but they also contain carcinogens (um, you know--like the stuff that causes cancer?!). And also? When we're good and done with the clothing, it inevitably ends up in landfills (at least 85% of it does), where it can sit for thousands of years leaking EVEN MORE chemical badness into the Earth. Gross, right? As Jeremy put it, "Instead of running, why don’t I just sit on my couch, eat a Big Mac, smoke a pack of cigarettes, and throw some more toxic waste in the Potomac River?" Touche.

Thus, Atayne was born. "So what's so cool about their performance tops?" you may be wondering. Well, how about the fact that they are made from trash? Yup, you heard me! Taken from this page on their website:

"Traditional performance apparel is made from virgin, non-renewable materials, contain questionable chemical treatments, and usually find their ultimate home in a landfill. Our competitors call that a treasure. We call it trash.

At Atayne, we use recycled polyester (from plastic bottles) and Cocona (activated carbon from coconut shells) to create our performance apparel. Our competitors might call that trash. We call it a treasure.

Why do we do it?It’s better for people, better for the planet, and better for performance.Plus, it is fun to tell people your clothing is made from trash.That’s our point of view."

Cool, huh? Now I haven't tried any of their tops out yet . . . but I'm definitely going to. I mean, if they can withstand the harsh conditions of Running With the Devil, then they've got to be doing something right (yes, Jeremy's cohort, Mike, actually ran one of the RWTD events to test their stuff out and make sure it was the real deal)! So hey, if you are so inclined, check out their fabulous website (it has lots more info and cool stuff than I could possibly pack into one post) and The Story of a Redshirt blog. It's very interesting stuff.

Alright, I promise I will catch you all up soon on what I've been up to . . . just wanted to share this with you before I forgot!

The Waiting Game . . .

2009-06-15T13:29:00.004-04:00

Hey y'all! I thought this post would be appropriate since I am in the middle of tapering and anxiously waiting for marathon day to get here (as I'm sure you're all WELL aware of by now). What you may not know, though, is that I am waiting for some other HUGE things in life right now. NO, I'm NOT preggers. So sorry, but there won't be any Irish Jr.'s running around quite yet. Instead, what I'm waiting for is my "grown-up life," as I like to think of it.

I've been at my current job for (shudder!!) almost three years now. Never in a million years did I expect to be here so long. You see, I took the job with the (simply horrible) idea that I wanted to go to law school. Luckily, I'm not a complete moron, and I ultimately came to realize that while I'd make a great lawyer, I'd probably end up seriously miserable and completely unfulfilled were I to head in that direction. It just wasn't worth it. Rather, it was time for Plan B (again with the pregnancy references--geez!). Except, uh, there kind of wasn't actually a Plan B.

In an ideal world, that would be fine. I'd have plenty of time on nights and weekends (if not during the workdays) to explore other options. Sadly, though, my job (even more-so than other NYC paralegal gigs) demands really long, stressful hours. I work at a firm that has been extremely lucky to be staffed with really smart and hard-working litigation paralegals (like moi, obvs) who somehow manage to do the work of ten people, despite the fact that there are just three of us in the department. And because we've somehow made it work and gotten everything that's asked of us done (by basically killing ourselves--almost literally, in some cases), they refuse to hire anyone to help us out. Thus, the attorney to paralegal ratio remains WAY out of whack compared to most NYC firms, and we are pretty much destined to work long, horrible, high-stress hours as long as we're here. We don't exactly have the luxury of free time.
Still, I knew I needed to find a new direction, so I forced myself to make time to explore other options (who needs sleep, right?). It just . . . uh, took a while (**plucks grey hair from head**) .

First I entertained the thought of pursuing an interior design career. It made sense, considering I LOVED watching all things HGTV and spent countless hours rearranging the furniture and decor in the apartment. I went so far as to sign up for continuing ed drawing classes and an online intro to interior design class. But in the end, I had so little free time, I dropped out of both. But you know what's funny? Despite being so busy I had to quit classes I'd paid hundreds of dollars to take, I still managed to find time to run and blog (a little foreshadowing, perhaps?). This taught me something--that while I do enjoy interior design, maybe I wasn't quite as passionate about it as I'd originally thought. I figured it was probably yet another one of the trillions of things I was interested in that would work far better as a hobby than a career. On to the next idea . . .

Educational Policy. It was something I'd always been really passionate about (perhaps TOO passionate about). And it would be SO rewarding to be able to work towards improving our nation's schools. But somewhere along the way, I dropped this idea, realizing it might end up stressing me out FAR too much. I'm just one of those people who gets completely consumed by her work, and I knew I wouldn't be able to turn this one off when I left at the end of the day (that is, IF I ever left at the end of the day!). It would devour me in very much the same way my Summer Internship at the Central Ward Boys and Girls Club in Newark, NJ did (I put so much pressure on myself with regards to improving my students' test scores, I ended up giving myself an ulcer--oopsies!). I clearly didn't want that.

With my next direction, I decided to look into Sports Management programs. After all, I DO love sports . . . how cool would it be to work for a professional sports team or a college or something along those lines? I was getting a little closer with this one--but still not quite close enough. I gave up the idea of B-School after the economy started tanking.

FINALLY, it came to me one day as I was reading "Brain Training For Runners" by Matt Fitzgerald on the subway purely for pleasure (nerdy, right?). I was reading a chapter that was quite heavy with the physiology talk--one in which Fitzgerald himself admitted that the reader should, "feel free to skim or skip"--when suddenly it hit me. "Why didn't I think of this before?! I want to go back to school to study kinesiology and sports nutrition!!" For the first time, family members and friends actually shook their heads in agreement rather than scoffing and rolling their eyes. After all, it was the "hobby" I had stuck with the longest. And I was CERTAINLY passionate about it; although not to the point where I might lose sleep at night worrying about the subject. It sounded . . . well, too good to be true!

That brings us to now. I'm doing a little independent study about the subject while looking into masters programs--specifically programs that are willing to combine both kinesiology/exercise science and nutrition. I think my ultimate goal is to go into sports nutrition, but I want to keep other options open.

So basically, I write all of this just to put it out there. To let people know that this is my intention--so that it all becomes that much more "real". The plan is to study for and take the GRE and look into schools over the next several months. The difficult thing, of course, is that where I go to school will basically depend on where Wilson ends up taking a job. He's in an animation program right now, which should finish up about a year from now. Depending on where he takes a job (Austin, San Fran, LA, NYC, Toronto, possibly other locations), I'll have to find a program that's close by. But I'm seriously excited about both of us FINALLY being so close to our chosen career paths. We're like almost real adults!

AND? Depending on where we move (we'll almost definitely be moving SOMEWHERE in August of 2010, as we're both kind of sick of NYC), we might even get to buy a house and/or a puppy dog (or two)!!! EEEK! So exciting :) It's like my mother always said, "I hated my twenties. I had no clue what I was doing. It wasn't until my thirties that I finally felt like I had a handle on life." I, of course, was convinced that I was the exception to this rule for a VERY long time--and that I would just never figure it all out. But you guys, I finally sort of kind of feel like I'm moving in the right direction! WOOOO! Go Irish, be an adult! Anyway, enough rambling for now. Suffice it to say that I finally feel like life is working itself out. And? Only one more year of this awful job before I can Q-U-I-T!! Yippy! :)

Coming soon will be my weekend report where I disgust you with the sheer amount of pig and cow I consumed in over the course of an afternoon. Be afraid, my friends. Be VERY afraid!

Cheaters Never Win . . . Except for When They Do

2009-06-12T16:19:00.002-04:00

Let me recap the week a bit for you before I start throwing accusations around . . .

Monday: Rest Day.

Tuesday: 10 min. warm-up + 6 x 800m (1:30 RI) + 10-min. cool-down -- My legs still felt a little tired from Sunday's 20-miler going into the workout; and during the warm-up period, I contemplated allowing myself to continue running easy for six miles instead of tackling the repeats. But I ultimately decided to give it a shot, with the hopes that I'd be able to complete at least four of those suckers. Well, wouldn't you know, the repeats somehow seemed to get easier as I went along. It was like my legs were slowly rising from the dead. I ran the first five at a 7:53/pace, and picked it up to 7:41/pace for the last one. I was SUPER happy with the way this went--my legs were basically DEAD for a week and a half following my 20-miler during training for L.A. So yay.

Wednesday: I gave myself another rest day to recover from the repeats and rest up for the JPMorgan Chase Corporate Challenge on Thursday.

Thursday: JPMorgan Chase Corporate Challenge - AKA the most annoying race on the planet.

Here we go. First of all, let me remind you of what happened at last year's Corporate Challenge race. To sum it up for you, I swore off racing with co-workers. That year, I had accompanied a new runner and helped her make it to the finish . . . and when we went to turn in our times, I was met with a chorus of "I beat the marathoner! I beat the marathoner!" Never again, I decided. Well, apparently I forgot about that . . . because I signed up for this sh*tshow again this year. Will I never learn?

Anyway, I left a bunch of work sitting on my desk yesterday afternoon in order to get to our team tent nice and early (last year we got to the tent way too close to the start of the race and had to line up behind 10,000+ walkers--annoying). I got there an hour before the race was set to start and was good and ready to head to the start line to get a good starting spot; but there was a slight problem: our team captain--the person who's supposed to stay in the tent and watch our bags--was nowhere to be found. In fact, not a single person from my workplace had shown up yet. I hung out in the tent for 30 minutes before our team captain finally showed up. Shortly after she arrived, the rest of our team started showing up. I was all set to run off to the start, but was basically told I needed to stay at the tent until more people arrived so we could take a photo together. GRRRR.

Annoyed, I waited for everyone to arrive. One of the men I work a lot with showed up and greeted me with, "Wow, Bailey. You run? I wouldn't have guessed that" . . . and I almost lost it. I get it, I get it. You think I'm pretty large to be a runner--not like those Kenyans, right? Ugh. Annoying. I prayed with everything I had in me that I would smoke him. Finally, we took our stupid group photo--long after a bunch of people (including Mr. Insult) had apparently snuck off to the start. With 15 minutes to spare, a friend and I headed towards the start. It was a disaster area. I had to push and shove my way up just to get to the 9 min./mile pace marker. Once I got to that point, it was clear that I wouldn't be making it any farther up. I took some time to look at and listen to those around me. There was khaki shorts dude. There was 300-pound dude. There was "wow, they're even playing the national anthem? This is a lot of pomp and circumstance" girl. There was stretchy-pants/Keds girl. I remembered right then and there why I had promised myself I would never run this race ever again.

Oh well, too late now . . . I was already standing smooshed up against 15,000 of my best friends--there was literally no way I could escape. The gun went off and five minutes later, I passed the start line. I kept waiting for the folks in front of me to start running . . . but, um . . . a lot of them kept walking. The ones who DID start running seemed to be in slow motion--which is fine and dandy--but not when you're lined up at the 9:00 min./mile marker. I spend the first mile just trying to find a way--any way--around the bazillions of slow people swarming around me. At three separate times, I was stuck so badly that I actually had to stop completely to avoid crashing into the people in front of me. It was a nightmare. I finally hit the 1-mile mark at 8:58--almost a full minute slower than I was aiming for. Well, at least I didn't go out too fast!

Mile-2 was still ridiculously crowded. It was--how do you say?--oh right, annoying as f*ck. It had thinned out a little bit, but there were a whole ton of people who were just getting to the point where they HAD to stop and walk. And of course, these people didn't motion at all or try to move off to the side . . . they would just stop suddenly in the middle of the course. Not at all dangerous. Still, despite these obstacles, I manged to pick up the pace and do a decent job of dodging. I completed Mile-2 in 7:56.

During Mile-3, I was really starting to fatigue mentally. My legs still felt good and strong, but I was just so sick of weaving around people. I wanted nothing more than to just run in a straight line. Thus, I would get stuck behind someone slower, and would just kind of hang out there behind them until there was a clear and easy path around them, rather than weaving back and forth across the course like a crazy person, as I'd done in the first two miles. I have to say, I was really shocked by the large number of people I saw walking during this mile! At any rate, my Mile-3 split ended up being 8:10.

After I hit that 3-mile mark, I knew I had just a half-mile to go. I was tired (mentally more than physically), but I picked it up BIG TIME, and I'm sure the fact that it was mostly downhill helped out as well. I finished that last half-mile at a 7:41/mile pace. I crossed the finish line, stopped Gertie, and looked down to see a 29:27 time looking back at me. Eh, not bad, I guess . . . although I had a sneaking suspicion I had held back a little bit much for that last half-mile. Oh well. 3.5 miles is a stupid distance anyway--it's not like I ever race that distance except for in the Corporate Challenge. Whatever.

I followed the long, steamy sea of finishers back to the team tents, expecting to be the first chick back . . . but hot damn, there was already a female co-worker sitting in the tent. I sat there for a minute, trying to figure out if she had run the race or not. I finally concluded that she must not have run the race, seeing as how she's not really an athletic type of person. I gave my finishing time to our team captain (you have to keep track of your own time. There aren't chips or anything) and hung out for a while before heading to the bar with some co-workers.

Fast-forward to this morning. We receive an email about the race from our team captain who proudly reports the male and female "best finishers". You guessed it, that girl from the tent was listed as the top female finisher for my place of employment. Okay, fine. So she beat me . . . I can accept that. Let's see . . . what was her time? WTF?! 25:03?! A 7:09 min/mile pace?! No f*cking way! Okay, now I'm way too competitive, I know . . . but I decided to pull up Athlinks (nothing but love, Athlinks!) to see if she'd ever run any other road races. Lo and behold, there she is. She ran a recent 4-miler in 54:00. WAIT. She ran a 4-miler in WHAT?! Wow. That extra half-mile was a killer wasn't it? So now I'm just annoyed beyond belief because I'm pretty sure this girl TOTALLY cheated . . . and who does that?

Blah, whatever. I'm not going to lie, I'll probably torture myself with this race again next year . . . because it's a free race. But seriously, this is the most annoying race on the face of the planet. And can they please, for the love of god, just use chips so shizz like this doesn't happen? The whole thing is a g-damn free-for-all because there are some people using Garmin/watch times, some people using clock times, some people subtracting random numbers of minutes from their clock times, some people just making random times up, etc. It's just a mess. Oh well, let's try to be positive for a second:

-I ran the race at an 8:15 min./mile pace (Gertie showed a total distance of 3.57 miles) despite a super crowded 9:00 first mile. Considering my 5K PR is a 7:59/pace, that's actually not so bad
-I felt SERIOUSLY strong on the hills
-A lot of times--when I actually had a clear path to run on--I'd glance down at Gertie and see a 7:20s or 7:30s pace looking back up at me . . . which makes me think that I could have run the race A LOT faster if it wasn't for all of the dodging and weaving
-I finished 7th out of 31 runners at my firm (well, 6th if you take out little miss cheater pants), and was the 2nd place female finisher (again, possibly 1st)

I'll take it :)

Up next, I have a 12-miler scheduled tomorrow . . . followed by a HUGE BBQ block party in Manhattan! Should be a blast!

Happy weekend, everyone! :)

THE 20-miler

2009-06-11T12:01:00.003-04:00

If you'll remember, I had originally planned on running two 20-milers before Seattle. BUT, thanks to my little setback (stupid chest cold!), I was forced to adjust the sched' and only had time to squeeze in one 20. Holy pressure!! This HAD to go well.

I woke up around 5:30 a.m. on Sunday, with every intention of heading out by 6:30 a.m. at the ABSOLUTE latest. Ha, nice try, Irish. I dilly-dallied, I watched some telly, I read some blogs, I made (and ate) some oatmeal, I drank some coffee, I changed tops five times, I read some more blogs. Finally, I checked out accuweather.com and was reminded of the fact that it was going to be HOT and sunny. I needed to get moving! I finally scurried my butt on out the door around 6:45 a.m. Here we go!

Except . . . we didn't exactly go. I swear I was all ready, but then I realized I didn't have any gum left. I stopped at a bodega and waited on line to buy my gum. Some dude took FOREVER picking out his scratch game lotto tickets. I FINALLY purchased my oh-so-important watermelon Trident, crossed the street and started my run. But wouldn't you know, Gertie was acting all kinds of funny (I think because I'd been stuck inside the bodega for so long). I stopped, turned her off and on, waited for her to find a signal AGAIN. Finally, just after 7:00, I was on my way.

During the run to the park, I focused on keeping my pace SUPER slow. This was a long one, and I didn't want to waste a drop of energy early on. My legs felt a little tired, so I took it nice and SLOOOOOW.

Mile-1: 10:18 (I told you I wasn't messing around with my tortoise-ness)

Mile-2: 9:57

I made it to the park and stopped near the entrance to stretch out my super TIGHT and freaky sore legs. Ah yes, much better! I grabbed a drink of water and on I trekked, still trying to keep my pace down as close to 10:00/mile as possible. Of course--per usual--once I was warmed up, running that slow proved to be a difficult feat.

Mile-3: 9:39

Mile-4: 9:41

I stopped at mile-4 to take my first gel. I had decided to try gel-ing up every 4-miles in an effort to avoid running out of steam like I seem to do in a lot of my long runs. On I went, happy as a clam, and feeling pretty darn good, if I do say so myself! Still, I wanted to avoid bonking later on and told myself I had to keep my pace down slower. I did a great job with the next couple miles, but per usual, it didn't last long!

Mile-5: 10:01

Mile-6: 10:13 (Zoo Hill helpd slow me down)

Of course, my A.D.D. set in somewhere around here, and it showed in the next couple of splits. I CLEARLY was not focusing on keeping the pace down.

Mile-7: 9:20

Mile-8: 9:28

I stopped again at Mile-8 for a gel and some water, elated that I was nearly halfway done and still feeling "awesome". For the record? Don't ever celebrate feeling great 8 miles into a 20-mile run. Your gloating a$$ will probably soon lead to your being stomped on by the running gods! And was I ever. I started back up, and soon thereafter realized I felt nauseous. Like REALLY nauseous. Like "pretty sure that vanilla Accel gel is about to come back up and fertilize the grass" nauseous. Ugh. I tried to push on, but I made it about halfway up Zoo Hill and allowed myself to slow to a walk, convinced I was going to yak. I walked the rest of the way up the hill, and then cursed at myself for b*tching out and forced myself to resume running. Holy illness, Batman. I felt like poop. "Better make up for lost time", I thought . . . because I'm dumb. And this made sense at the time. If you think this is stupid, just wait until you hear what I did a bit later on . . .

Mile-9: 10:35 (wah, I'm gonna puke. I have to walk up this hill like a little b*tch)

Mile-10: 9:10 (yeah, see. Dumb)

Mile-11: 9:30 (little bit better, but still kind of dumb)

The nausea was gripping me by this time. I remembered back to in my training for L.A. when this happened A LOT during and after my long runs . . . and I immediately smacked myself up the side of the head when I remembered that Gatorade/sports drink seemed to be the missing piece that had solved that puzzle. Unfortunately, I had no Gatorade on me. Nor did I have enough money to purchase any. I knew right then and there it was going to be a LONG day (only, I didn't ACTUALLY have the slightest clue--ha, I promise you're going to die when you read about the idiotic move I made a few miles from now).

I got to Zoo Hill . . . again. And I walked the whole damn thing. I just felt SO defeated. And sick. So VERY, VERY sick. As I'm officially the most predictable nincompoop on the planet, I again tried to make up for the walking with a faster than necessary mile-13.

Mile-12: 11:26

Mile-13: 9:20

It was time for another gel break. Given a choice, I'd have chosen sawing both of my ears off with a rusty butter knife over consuming another gel. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), only one of these was actually an option, and I knew it was a very necessary evil. I pretended it was a shot, and squeezed the entire thing into my mouth, swallowing the whole glob in one quick motion. I immediately gagged and came damn close to losing it. Somehow, though, with lots of water, I managed to keep it down. I dilly-dallied for FAR too long at this stop. This is a problem with me during a lot of my long runs. I swear, I will stand there for like five minutes before I convince myself to get moving. Finally, I talked myself into it and continued on, trying to focus on the positives . . . my legs felt fine, endurance-wise I felt seriously strong, nothing was hurting (besides my gut). But you guys, I have never felt more ill in my life. I told myself to Just. Keep. Moving. "The sooner you finish, the sooner you can lay down, Irish."

Mile-14: 10:02

After mile-14, things REALLY went downhill. It was hot as crap out, the sun was glaring down on me, and--surprise, surprise--I was feeling even more ill than I ever thought possible. This is when I really started to suffer mentally. Something about feeling insanely nauseous for 6 miles was causing my brain to malfunction. I started to consider sticking my finger down my throat. I was thinking maybe--just maybe--if I actually vomited, I would feel better. But then, of course, I was worried I'd lose all of the fluids and fuel I was working so hard to keep down. And remember how it was seriously hot out? 'Cuz yeah, it was.

I opted not to do it, and kept on going . . . and suddenly a seriously STUPID thought crept into my head. "Maybe I should just do an extra 2-mile loop and finish the run in the park." Please remember that I live 2.4 miles from Prospect Park. How on earth was I going to get home?! Ha, "I'll walk home--it will be a nice cool-down," I thought. I don't know why, you guys, but this sh*t actually made sense to me at the time. I'm pretty sure I was originally looking at the run in three segments--run to the park, run in the park and run home from the park--and cutting one of the segments out seemed easier to me, despite the fact that it was the same damn mileage! Told you my brain was dead!

At any rate, as soon as I made up my mind and stopped thinking about my new plan, I realized my right hip was SERIOUSLY hurting me. Uh oh. I slowed to a walk and stopped to grab a drink of water. Um, OUCH? Now what?! I let myself limp-walk for a while, then decided it was probably just an IT band issue and started running again. I realized it actually felt better to run than it did to walk, for some reason. But of course, the second I started running, my stomach threatened to empty its contents. WOO! We're having some fun now!

Mile-15: 11:49

Mile-16: 10:16

Right after the mile-16 point, I was practically trampled by an apparent race going on. I was aware that there was, in fact, a race in the park that day--but had totally forgotten about it, considering I was planning on being out of the park and gone by the time it started (10:00 a.m.). Between my super late start and my nausea-induced dilly-dallying, I was still running long after I had originally thought I would be. As the lead pack passed, I was as close to the curb as I could manage without tripping over it, but I still was elbowed and almost knocked down by multiple racers. I felt really badly, and tried to get out of the way, but there were runners trying to run by on the left side of me--as in up on the curb--so I couldn't even get over. Finally, I managed to hop off of the road and resumed running up on the dirt path that has been worn into the grass just inside the road. I stopped around mile-16.5 for my final gel break, and decided to wait it out a bit until the race thinned out.

I figured it wouldn't take too long, considering most of the non-NYRR (New York Road Runners) races in Prospect Park are relatively small, but I waited a good 5-10 minutes before it cleared up enough to carry on. Even as I started back up, I was still dodging a fair number of slower runners and walkers, as well as a lot of children who weren't exactly very savvy with the "rules of the road," as I like to call them. Ugh. I will definitely let my kids participate in road races if and when I have them, but I will be sure to a) keep an eye on them, and b) teach them about polite racing techniques. But I digress. Run, run, run. Dodge, dodge, dodge. On I went, running (and occasionally walking when I felt like I was about to yak).

Mile-17: 10:02

Mile-18: 10:49

Now, around the 18.75-mile point, I started on my way up Zoo Hill for the fourth and final time that day. I was feeling SERIOUSLY ill, but I knew I was SO close to being done. I told myself I was going to finish the run without stopping to walk, but wouldn't you know, I made it about 20 yards and felt the most convincing "I have to puke" sensation of the entire day. I slowed to a walk, hoping it would pass, but suddenly I KNEW I wasn't going to make it. Luckily, I was right near some trees, so I jumped off the road into the tree cover and spilled my guts. The funny thing is that right as I was jumping into the trees, Gertie beeped at me to announce I had reached the 19-mile mark. I would have laughed . . . but I seriously didn't think ANYTHING was funny at that point in time.

Mile-19: 12:10 (puke break--no time to stop Gertie--awesome!)

I popped a piece of gum in my mouth (was I EVER glad I stopped to buy that gum!), and took some time to collect myself/think about what I should do. Should I cut the run short a mile? Should I keep going? Should I just walk the remaining mile? For one thing, I was sure as hell not going to run up the rest of that hill (sorry, guys--I'm just not that hardcore). I ultimately decided on walking the remaining mile. But then? I made it to the top of the hill, and felt kind of like a loser. I had walked up at least part of that sucker 3 out of 4 times that day. WEAK! I forced myself to get running again and finish the run out strong. After all, I only had about 3/4 of a mile to go--that was nothing! On I ran, trying to think positive thoughts. "You're still out here, Irish. That takes guts. Maybe today hasn't gone the way you'd hoped, but you know what? You haven't quit yet. And you're not going to quit. You got this!" FINALLY, I reached 20 miles.

Mile-20: 11:19

I slowed to a walk and checked my time. 3:23:31 overall for a 10:10/mile pace. I was actually kind of pleasantly surprised considering I'd thrown so much walking into the mix. Just to check my progress since my last training period, I pulled up my last 20-mile run completed on February 9, 2008 (yes, it's still in there--Note to self: I should really clean Gertie out before Seattle. Wouldn't it suck to have her fill up in the middle of the race?): 3:37:33, or a 10:52/mile pace . . . and I had thought that run went "really well"! Not bad. Not bad at all.

I grabbed a nice, long drink of water, relaxed for a while, and then exited the park when I was ready. Suddenly, I realized how stupid I had been. Walking 2.4 miles home was not going to be "a nice cool-down". It was going to be a full-on death march! It was already approaching 11:00 a.m., and the sun was beating down on me as I left the park. Here's a play-by-play of my walk home.

11:00 a.m.: I think, "Have I seriously only made it ONE BLOCK so far?!"

11:02 a.m.: And . . . I'm already thirsty again. If only I had something to drink . . . but alas I only have 50 cents on me. "Stupid gum! I'd still have 2 dollars if it wasn't for you!"

11:05 a.m.: I wonder why the youth of Park Slope aren't more entrepreneurial. Lemonade would be PERFECT!

11:10 a.m.: "Seriously? THREE BLOCKS??! That's it?!"

11:15 a.m.: I am very nearly run over by an out-of-control Park Slope stroller mom. Thanks, lady.

11:20 a.m.: A small child who has clearly just learned to walk passes me and then mocks me by begging her father to pick her up. He does. I spontaneously burst into tears, lamenting the fact that there is no one around to pick me up.

11:25 a.m.: I pass the South Brooklyn Coffin Factory, and wonder if maybe I should just stop there and save everyone some trouble.

11:30 a.m.: I contemplate hopping on a bus and just begging the people on the bus for the remaining $1.50 I'd need for fare. "Hmm, I've seen that work before." But alas, I have no clue where any of the buses in the area would go . . .

11:35 a.m.: I wonder if a police officer would drive me home if I begged . . . but I don't have a chance to find out, seeing as how there are no police officers in sight.

11:40 a.m.: The Killers tell me, "If you can't hold on/If you can't hold on/Hold on." Easier said than done, a$$holes!

11:41 a.m.: You're not going to believe this, but I pass a LEMONADE STAND! "Way to go youngsters of Cobble Heights," I think as I approach the stand. THEN, I see the sign . . . $0.75. You have GOT to be kidding me!

11:42 a.m.: I think about bartering with the kid and asking for 2/3 of a cup of lemonade, but there's someone else busy buying a cup. "Forget it," I think. I'm just eight blocks from home, where a big, huge, ice-cold bottle of Gatorade is waiting for me.

11:50 a.m.: I pass by the LIU Hospital and think about checking myself in.

11:55 a.m.: FINALLY, I arrive home (over FIVE HOURS after I left, mind you). I immediately chug an entire bottle of Gatorade. YUM.

I spent probably 45 minutes attempting to take the photos in the last post with my blackberry camera (the REAL camera was downstairs, and I sure as hell was not about to walk down any stairs after the morning I'd had!). Speaking of which, look how disgusting I look in this failed photo. GOOD LORD! Apparently blackberry cameras have the ability to make you look 50 pounds thinner! YUCK!

Finally, I got it right. I hopped in an icebath, followed it with a nice hot shower, then decided I needed chow ASAP! Although I knew we didn't have much food in the apartment, I was determined to come up with something good without leaving the premises. Finally, a lightbulb went off in my head. I turned on the oven and prepared myself some black bean nachos (just stone ground tortilla chips covered with black beans and weight-watchers shredded mexican cheese mix). DELICOUS! I followed this delightful meal with a couple hours of laying around in my recovery socks and watching some television.

By the time Wilson got home from work (did I mention he had to work, and couldn't baby me after my run? Cuz' yeah, that made me sad! At least he brought me a HUGE iced coffee and a couple donuts when he came home :) ), I was still in some pretty bad pain from the hip issue, but I managed to get up and "help" him do the laundry. And by "help", I mean hobble to the laundromat, sit in a chair while he did the laundry and hobble home. But I DID fold my own clothes, which was a HUGE accomplishment.

In true Irish Cream form, I finished the night off with Wilson at our favorite Ale House. We ordered the "Pig Out Special for 2" (sweet potato fries, cole slaw, beef brisket, ribs, pulled pork and barbecued chicken--YUM!). The feast was complimented ever so nicely by the two pints of Ithaca Apricot Wheat I drank. PERFECTO.

So there you have it folks . . . my never-ending 20-mile long run report. While it didn't exactly go as planned, I'm in high spirits and still feeling pretty confident. The nausea/vomit issue and the hip issue obviously sucked, but the good news is that endurance-wise, I felt pretty strong even as I was finishing the last mile. Not to mention, my legs felt really good aside from the hip thing (which was feeling 100% better by Tuesday night). So . . . I feel like if I am vigilant about stretching the IT band and I make sure to consume sports drink during the race, I should be good to go. WOOO! Getting close now . . . just a little over two weeks to go! :)

Watch out, Seattle, I'm coming for you!

It's Taper Time!

2009-06-08T23:37:00.003-04:00

Well, since I'm positive y'all must be losing sleep over not knowing how Sunday's 20-miler went (riiiiight) . . . I'll get right down to it. It went a little something like this:

But, I got 'er done nonetheless. It wasn't pretty; in fact, at some points (especially one right around mile-19), it was downright ugly. But I finished the 20-miles, and I am officially in taper. How do I feel about that fact? Well, see for yourself:

Full report coming soon, I promise! You won't want to miss this one (or maybe you will if you don't like reading about vomit--yup, how's that for a teaser?)!

Also coming soon . . . a whole lot of crazy! WOOO! TAPER MADNESS!!

Confidence? Yes, Please!

2009-06-06T12:54:00.003-04:00

So . . . remember when I announced to the bloggy world that I would be running Thursday's "marathon pace" 8-miler at a 9:30/mile pace? Um, that didn't so much happen, folks. Here's what actually happened.

I left the office around 6:30 p.m. after dealing with something that was really obnoxious and supremely boring. I'll spare you the details. I hopped on the subway, turned on some fast-paced tunes to pump myself up . . . and immediately passed the f*ck out. I was TIRED. I woke up at the stop before mine and told myself I just had to stay awake for one more stop (I'm always afraid I'll miss my stop as a result of my habit of sleeping on the train). I didn't make it. Luckily, I did wake up in time to grab my stuff and fling myself off of the train before the doors closed--whew! I tried my hardest to wake up during the 10-minute walk back to my apartment, but I couldn't shake the feeling that a nap on the couch was in order.

The second I stepped into my apartment, my couch was calling my name, "Iriiiiish, Iriiiiish." I considered taking my couch up on the offer and pushing the 8-miler to Friday morning. It was SO tempting. But then I reminded myself that it was peak week and I just had to get through 28 more miles and a soccer game before it would be taper time, and I'd probably kill and/or give my left kidney for a long-ish mid-week run. I threw on some running clothes, grabbed my iPod and my Garmin (who I have nicknamed Gertie--yes, some of you may recall that my running skirt was also called Gertie; but she wasn't living up to my expectations, so I've stripped her of her name and reassigned it to my Garmin, who had remained nameless for FAR too long) and stepped outside just after 7:30 p.m. The temp was super mild--in the low sixties, and the skies were threatening rain. I turned Gertie on and waited for a signal. And I waited. And I waited.

Finally, I got sick of waiting and I just took off. I tried to start out slow, but could tell that I was probably moving at a faster pace than planned. Since there was no proof of it, though, I just kept moving. Finally, after nearly a half-mile, Gertie found a signal and I started her. I WAS running too fast. Thus, I forced myself to focus on keeping the pace near 9:30.

Mile-1: 9:30 (Ow ow!)
Mile-2: 9:32 (virtually all uphill, but still pretty darn close to a 9:30 pace. Woo!)

I arrived at Prospect Park just as Gertie hit the 2-mile mark, which told me I had covered 0.4-mile before she found a signal (2.4 - 2.0= 0.4 . . . yeah, yeah--I was on the math team in high school; what's up!). I grabbed a quick drink of water on my way into the park and made a mental note that 7.6-miles would be my stopping point. Now, I don't know what it is about entering Prospect Park--perhaps it's the seemingly impossible 0.75-mile uphill slog that immediately precedes my arrival at the park; or maybe it's just that I'm finally warmed up having covered 2.4 miles on my way to the park--but I always feel SO STRONG once I get into Prospect Park.

Even though I knew I should keep my pace down, I just couldn't help myself! My legs wanted to fly! Now, I tend to have a problem at times where my legs want to fly and I oblige, only to have to stop and walk at some point in the run. I told myself that if I wanted to push the pace, that was fine, but that I'd have to be ready for the pain and suffering of having to hold on for the remainder of the 8-miles. There would be NO WALKING.

Around mile-3.5, I came upon a dude who was running a pace pretty similar to mine, but just SLIGHTLY slower. You know those times when the person you approach is running fast enough that you're not sure you can pass them, but slowly enough that you don't want to have slow down to avoid running side-by-side with them? Yeah, it was one of those. I ultimately decided to push ahead of the dude, and wouldn't you know, little man seemed to take great offense at being "chicked"! He tried to keep up with me once I started to pass him, and we were running side-by-side for what seemed like forever (probably only like 30-45 seconds, though) before he finally gave up and dropped back. VICTORY! I was just praying our mini-race wouldn't come back to bite me in the ass!

Mile-3: 9:11
Mile-4: 9:00

I kept trucking, and as expected, came to a point somewhere around mile-4 where I was CONVINCED the only way I'd live was if I stopped to walk. But wouldn't you know, I ignored that voice in the back of my head insisting I needed to walk. I told myself that if I needed to slow the pace a bit, that was one thing . . . but there would be NO walking. And wouldn't you know, my pace didn't actually slow that much at all, despite the fact that this mile contained the beginning portion of Zoo Hill, the infamous half-mile uphill stretch in Prospect Park!

Mile-5: 9:07

I continued fighting up the rest of the hill, telling myself that I could take a quick water stop on my way out of the park. I wanted to walk SO badly, you guys, but I just kept fighting and pushing. I embraced the burning I was feeling in my legs and lungs. I made it to the top, exited the park, grabbing a drink on the way out and prepared myself to pick the pace up for the last 2-ish miles of the run. Now, the best part of the 0.75-mile uphill slope to Prospect Park along Union Street is that on your way home, it's downhill! My legs were feeling crazy tired by this time, but I just told myself to use the downward slope to my advantage and coast my way down.

Mile-6: 9:07

As an added incentive to run fast, it was now dark. I was also STARVING and really anxious to get home and eat! I forced myself to push it as hard as I could handle on the remaining 1.6 miles, despite some slight uphills on the trek across Union Street that can be killer during the last mile or two of a run. I am almost always tempted to stop and walk when I hit them, but I knew at this point that I had less than 15 minutes left in the run and I just had to hold on. FINALLY, Gertie showed 7.6 miles just as I turned onto my street.

Mile-7: 8:57
Mile-7.6: 5:23 (8:46/pace)

I slowed to a walk for the last couple of blocks to my apartment in order to cool down a bit and check out my splits. I had basically been ignoring my time the entire time and running by feel. Imagine my shock when Gertie spit back a time of 1:09:46 for 7.61 miles (9:10/pace)! I was virtually in shock. I skipped back to the apartment happy as a lark and SO excited to tell Wilson what I had accomplished! He congratulated me and gave me a high-five, despite the fact that I was once again in super-annoying giddy runner mode. I celebrated with some Gatorade, an ice bath and a hot shower, then chowed down the delicious catfish and kale Wilson had cooked up (again, is he not the best?).

Looking back, I feel like this was a HUGE run for me. I had been lacking confidence in my training lately, and this was finally a run that I felt like I TOTALLY dominated. It was one of those runs that just proves that you are in awesome shape and can handle far more than you might think possible. Isn't it funny how sometimes the runs you dread the most turn into your strongest performances ever? At any rate, I NEEDED that! Hopefully I can reserve the boost in self-confidence and make use of it going into tomorrow morning's 20-miler!

Oh, and for those interested, I trekked out in the pouring rain last night to get to my soccer game (after another annoying day at work), only to discover that the other team had forfeited. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we beat them 29-0 the last time we played them? I know, I know--that's horrible! But we honestly TRIED to stop scoring . . . they were just THAT bad! Anyway, a bunch of guys from one of the previous games stuck around and we had a super fun friendly-scrimmage.

Now I'm just sitting here in my hot pink compression socks, resting up for tomorrow! Wish me luck! Next time you hear from me I'll be tapering!

Have a happy weekend, y'all! :)

IT'S PEAK WEEK!

2009-06-04T12:24:00.002-04:00

Hey all! Hope this week is treating you well! As for me? It's RNR Seattle Marathon Training Peak Week! WOOOO! So far, so good! I took a rest day on Monday, but was right back at it with a speed workout Tuesday at lunch. I LOVE leaving the office mid-day to run or workout--it's such a nice way to break up the workday, and I always have so much energy when I finish! Sadly, I'm almost always too busy to squeeze it in, but when it happens, it is DEFINITELY a treat! At any rate, I took a late lunch on Tuesday and headed over to my gym around 3:00 p.m. I hopped on the 'mill and completed a 10 minute warm-up before tackling one of the easier speed interval sessions of my training: 5 x (2 mins. fast + 2 mins. easy). I took the "fast" repeats at a 7:42/pace, and the "easy" intervals at a 10:00/pace. Before I knew it, I had completed all 5 repeats and it was time to cool down for 10 minutes! I'm happy to say that the workout felt pretty darn easy, and at this point in training, that's always a good thing!

Next up, I had a cross-training day scheduled yesterday . . . but wouldn't you know, it was NATIONAL RUNNING DAY! Um, is it just me or does it seem criminal not to run on National Running Day? Thus, I opted for a 4-mile easy run (10:00/pace) followed by 15 minutes of core work (with my BFF, the 12-lb. medicine ball) and 15 minutes of biceps/triceps work. Not bad at all! I arrived home around 9:45 p.m.--STARVING--to find turkey tacos and homemade guacamole ready to eat! Have I mentioned that Wilson is the bestest boyfriend ever? I begged him to let us watch a running movie while we ate (specifically, Spirit of the Marathon) in honor of National Running Day, but apparently he's not as big of a running nerd as I am and he wasn't in the mood for my kick-ass workout endorphin induced super-heightened running nerd-ness. Ha, oops! He did promise me that at some point closer to RNR Seattle (eek, just over three weeks!!!!!), we will watch Spirit of the Marathon.

Up for today, I have an 8-mile marathon pace run. Um, I still haven't quite figured out what my marathon pace is going to be . . . I know, I know. I should probably get on that, eh? I'm thinking at this point, I'll probably start out with the 4:20 pacers. I want to start REALLY conservatively--even if I risk starting TOO conservatively--as I think that will give me the best chance of hanging in there until the end. But as for tonight, I'm guessing I'll probably tackle the run at about a 9:30/pace.

As I like to keep things interesting, I will be playing in an indoor soccer match at 9 p.m. tomorrow night. I had originally told my team that I was unavailable (um, hi! Some of us have 20 miles to run this weekend) . . . but my team consists of a bunch of losers who SAID they wanted to play but now refuse to show up to the games (probably a third of the people who originally signed up haven't even made it to ONE GAME yet--and we've already played 7 games!). As it was looking like we'd have to forfeit, I reluctantly agreed to show up on Friday night. GRRR. But just so we're clear, I plan on doing little more than standing around on the field and kicking at the ball if it happens to come near me. I'll be damned if I'm going to get injured at this point in training!

Saturday, I'll probably do some light cross-training and rest a whole lot. Then Sunday is the day--my 20-miler! After that, it's TAPER TIME, baby! I fully expect to go REALLY crazy this time around, especially considering I feel kind of undertrained. But, as we all know, the taper is a necessary evil . . . and there's nothing I can do in the last three weeks that will increase my fitness enough to matter anyway . . . yada, yada, yada! Just have to keep that stuff in mind . . .

Hope you all had a very happy National Running Day! I'll be catching up with you all by this weekend, I promise! I just can't figure out where the time keeps going . . .

We're almost to Friday, folks. Hang in there!

Where Does The Time Go? A Recap of the last 2 Weeks!

2009-05-31T22:41:00.002-04:00

As promised, here is my update via bullet points.

I ran 16 miles two weekends ago. It was rough. Really rough. Wilson and I started out together, but he was only planning to run 12 miles. Being an idiot, I forgot to bring my keys with me and didn't realize it until we were over a mile into the run. In an ideal world, I could just buzz my apartment when I got home, and Wilson would let me in . . . but our buzzer is broken. Thus, the only option really was to stop back into the apartment when Wilson finished up at the 12-mile mark, grab my keys, and head back out again to finish up the final 4 miles. This? Was torture. But I got 'er done. Right around a 10:00/mile pace.

My parents, older sister, brother-in-law and 3 1/2 year-old niece were in town for the week leading up to Memorial Day, and my younger sister and I both took three heavenly days off from work to hang out with them and play tourist for a bit while they were here. Despite the (sort of annoying) fact that the fam isn't so into planning ahead (it wouldn't be quite so annoying but for the fact that they were all staying on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, a 45+ minute subway ride away from my BK apartment). Anyway, we had a lot of fun, ate a lot, drank a lot, and walked about 15 billion miles while they were here. Despite a missed key run (speed intervals), I DID get a helluva lot of cross-training in.
While the fam was here, I managed to squeeze in an 18-mile long run . . . or well, a 17.5-miler, as it turns out. I accidentally stopped my garmin at some point in the run and forgot to restart it, so all tracking abilities were out the window. It wasn't until later that night that I mapped my run out, and realized I had fallen a half-mile short. Whoopsies! I averaged just under 10:00/mile for the run, and picked up some sexy tan lines, despite the fact that it was mostly overcast out. Oh, and can I just mention that humidity is a b*tch? It was only in the high-sixties during the run, but you could cut the air with a knife, it was so thick. Yuck. I followed the run with an ice bath, a quick shower, chocolate cake (my mom's 60th birthday cake!) and a full day of sight-seeing. It was all EXHAUSTING. And then my parents and I babysat my niece while my sisters and bro-in-law went out to dinner. Um, let's just say that if high-schoolers had to babysit my niece for a night, there would probably be far fewer teen pregnancies. As much as I love little Iris, she helped me to realize that I am SO not ready to have kids anytime soon!
As much as I loved getting to hang out with the fam, and especially enjoyed getting to see the city through a 3 1/2 year-old's eyes, I am a bit relieved that life (in particular, my diet and training) are back to normal! My stomach hurt throughout the entire time they were here, thanks to all of the crap food we ate and all of the beer and wine we drank (I must be healthier than I thought, because my tummy was seriously FREAKED)!

Last week, despite the short work-week, work was SERIOUSLY a b*tch. I was forced to skip my tempo run, much to my dismay. But it was probably a blessing in disguise, considering I had a half-marathon to run this weekend. I DID get a killer 10 x 400m (at a 7:30/mile pace) workout in (it was blissful) and some decent cross-training as well.
I ran the Brooklyn Half Marathon (part of the NYRR Grand Prix series, which consists of a half-marathon in each of the five boroughs) this past weekend. I had planned on taking it nice and easy from the get-go, considering I only had 10-miles on the schedule, and the race was conveniently sandwiched between last weekend's 18-mile (eh, 17.5-mile) long run and next weekend's 20-mile long run. I planned to start out at around a 10:00/mile pace and see what happened from there. I started the run out feeling GREAT . . . I was maintaining around a 9:45 - 9:50 pace, and was struggling to keep my pace that slow. I felt like I was in slow motion! Somewhere around 8.5-miles, though, everything went downhill. I was suddenly insanely fatigued and was getting some pretty crazy chills. The heat had risen to somewhere around 70 degrees by that time, and I have a SERIOUS sensitivity to the heat, as a result of having suffered from heat illness on multiple occasions during my childhood. I knew I could probably push through it, considering there were only 4.5 miles left . . . but I also knew (again, just like with Long Branch), that I might be jeopardizing my health and Seattle Marathon performance by pushing it. Thus, I slowed to a walk for a while. I walked on and off for the remainder of the race, trying my best to just enjoy the experience. I'm a little bummed that I went so quickly from feeling AWESOME to feeling like crap, but oh well. One of these days, I swear I'm going to train for a half-marathon without any other race on the horizon, and I'm just going to go all out! By far the best part of the race was that it finished on the boardwalk in Coney Island! Wilson and I met up after the race (he finished in 1:50:xx, scoring himself a nice, new PR), hung out on the beach for a while, stuffed our faces with Nathan's hot dogs and fries (yum), and then finally boarded the F-train back home to Brooklyn Heights. Despite my problem with the heat and issues with some of the aid stations, it was a GREAT day. I'll definitely be running this race again next year (hopefully without another race overshadowing it!)

Alright, I think we are officially caught up now! Hope you all had a wonderful weekend!

Still Kickin'

2009-05-29T12:28:00.002-04:00

Hi all. Just a quick note to let you know that I'm still alive and kicking. I didn't want you to think I'd been mauled by a mountain lion or fallen from the Empire State Building or anything. I've just been super-duper busy with work and cleaning and visitors and training . . . and trying to get some sleep every now and again. I'll be posting a bullet-point filled update at some point this weekend, and will try as best I can to catch up with all of you as well. I can't wait to read what you crazy kids have been up to over the past couple of weeks!

HAPPY FRIDAY! :)

And good luck to the oodles and oodles of my running-bloggy friends racing this weekend! Knock 'em dead, y'all!! :)

Apparently I Rock More Than Just Speed Intervals

2009-05-16T11:01:00.002-04:00

Um, something weird happened on Thursday, you guys. I headed out for a run after work. Yes, I know this is weird because I normally work until the wee hours of the morning at my horrible slave ship of a job. But that's not the weird thing. I had a 7-8 mile marathon pace run in mind for myself when I set out. Now, I'm still not sure what my planned marathon pace is going to be. Originally, I had been thinking it would be around 9:00/miles, but with the set-backs I've had with illness and whatnot, I'm now thinking somewhere closer to 9:20-9:30/miles. SOOOO. I set out on my run, hoping to aim for 9:20 miles.

Off I went, SO deliriously happy to be running at 7:00 p.m. on a Thursday night. The weather was AMAZING. It was in the low 60s and breezy, threatening to rain (but it never did much more than short spurts of sprinkling). It just felt so refreshing to be out for a run! My tunes were pumping, and it was all I could do to keep myself from dancing to them as I ran. A mile passed, and I checked my Garmin out to see what my pace had been. Imagine my shock when 8:14 flashed back at me! I could kind of tell I was running too fast, but it felt so damn good that I didn't want to slow down. On I chugged, figuring maybe I'd turn my run into a tempo run of some sort. Much of mile-2 was uphill, but I still pulled off an 8:25 pace.

I entered Prospect Park shortly thereafter and plugged on. I was shocked to see that there weren't many runners out enjoying the perfect running weather . . . but I guess maybe they were scared off by the threat of rain. I slowed down a bit during mile-3, as I was just enjoying taking in the beauty of the park, but still finished the mile in 8:31. At that point, though, I was feeling the pain of my fast first few miles, so I let myself walk for a couple minutes to get my heart rate back down and return my breathing to normal. I thought about running the rest of the run at easy pace, but sure enough, as soon as I started running again, my legs had a different idea!

I started running down a path I don't usually take, which ended up being a bit hilly . . . but I was really enjoying exploring new territory, and mile-4 passed by in 8:18. I was getting tired by mile-5, and again contemplated slowing down to an easy pace for the remainder of the run, but still, my legs just wanted to push it. And who am I to argue with my legs? I finished mile-5 in 8:48. I exited the park and started the run back to my apartment. I LOVE the run back to my apartment along Union Street because it is predominantly downhill. My legs were super tired, but I told myself that if I pulled off one last fast mile, I could walk the last mile and change through my neighborhood to cool down. I hit the 6-mile mark at 50:53, completing that last mile in 8:35.

I was elated. I had just run six miles at an 8:28 pace! How do you like them apples? I rewarded myself with a brisk walk home through the 'hood. As ridiculous as this sounds, I kind of wanted to keep running. My legs were screaming at me that they weren't done yet . . . but because the focus of this week is to get a good long run in, I decided to ignore them. As I crossed the street to my apartment, I was checking my splits out, when all of a sudden I felt an awful burning on my shin. WTF? I looked down and there was a spark burning into my leg! Apparently some asshole outside the bar two doors down from me had tossed his cigarette, not paying any attention to the fact that I was approaching, and a spark had flown off from it and implanted itself on my shin. I jumped around trying to shake it off of my leg. Hot damn! It burnt like crazy and blistered up pretty quickly. The man apologized profusely, so I think he really just didn't see me coming, but COME ON! Another reason to not smoke, people. You may burn some poor runner returning from a run!

Yesterday, I made it to one of my firm's indoor soccer games, and my legs were TIRED. Luckily, we had three girl subs, so I didn't have to play all that much. And we won (still undefeated--woo!). I was sad that I didn't score any goals, but I did play some pretty sweet defense, so I suppose that's something to be proud of. Ah well, that's all I have for now. Tomorrow is long run day . . . so I'm spending today trying to rest up and recover from the tempo run/soccer game.

Hope y'all have a great weekend!

Who Rocks the Speed Intervals?

2009-05-12T16:13:00.003-04:00

I rock the speed intervals.

No, there's nothing wrong with your eyes. You did, in fact, read that correctly. I (aka the girl who somehow forgot how to run last week) tackled my scheduled speed interval workout today, and I totally nailed it. Thanks for showing up, legs! Where've you been all this time? Alright, alright, I won't ask questions. Just PLEASE do not leave me again until after June 27. Thanks a bunch!

Work has been slow again today, and I decided I might as well take advantage of it and hit the gym at lunch, seeing as how I again failed to get up and squeeze my workout in before work (why are you so tempting sleep? WHY?!). My schedule called for a 10-20 minute warm-up + 1K, 2K, 1K, 1K (w/ 400m RI) + a 10 minute cool-down.

I was a little nervous during my 10 minute warm-up because I still felt a little tired and "off". But when the time came for my first 1K, I cranked the treadmill up to a 7:53/mile pace and was surprised to find that it felt great--better than my 9:40 warm-up pace, to be honest! I kept waiting to feel like crap, but my stride felt strong and I felt great throughout the entire workout! I almost wished I could do one more 2K interval--almost. But I knew I had to get back to work, so I just finished up my cool-down instead. My intervals looked like this:

1K: 7:53 pace
2K: 8:13 pace
1K: 7:53 pace
1K: 7:47 pace

I am SO happy to finally have my legs back. Maybe they just needed to run faster? Not what I would have figured, but whatever. I'll take it!

In other news, I've begun logging my meals on My Plate at LiveStrong.com. I've tried this type of food logging before, but rarely stuck with it for more than a few days. I'm really hopeful this time, though, because My Plate saves your food history, so that you can quickly select items that you eat on a regular basis without having to search for them all over again. It is fabulous. I'm not really trying to shed pounds . . . more just trying to make sure I get the right balance nutrition-wise. But hey, if I happen to lose 5-10 pounds in the process, I'm certainly not going to complain!

Speaking of nutrition and weight loss, THE BIGGEST LOSER Finale is on tonight! WOOO! GO TARA! Kick their ARSES! WOOO! Why do I allow myself to get so caught up with t.v. shows? Eh . . . whatever, I only watch three television shows every week (TBL, Lost and The Office), so I guess it's not really a huge issue. Anyway, I'm super excited to see all of the returning contestants and what they've been able to do with their time at home!

Okay, that's all I have for now . . . Catch ya on the flip side! :)

Odds and Ends

2009-05-11T16:43:00.002-04:00

This is going to be kind of a random post, so consider yourself warned! First of all, thank you so much for all of your wonderful advice regarding my last post. My stride still feels a little bit off, but it seems to be getting a lot better--I'm guessing it's simply a matter of fatigue. For whatever reason, I think the half-marathon took a lot more out of me than I thought (which is ridiculous considering I walked half of it, but whatever). So for now, I'm just trying to be cautious of overdoing it, but still continuing on with training.

I got in 10 miles yesterday at a 9:50/mile pace, and while I was hoping to get at least a few more miles in, I didn't want to push it. I've come to the conclusion that I'd rather get to the start line under-trained and healthy than to be exhausted and/or injured (been there, done that, suffered a lot). Thus, when Wilson and I were both struggling with dead legs at mile-7 yesterday morning, we decided to finish our loop and head home from Prospect Park, thus quitting while we were ahead. I think I am STILL picking pollen out of my eyeballs (it was windy and the pollen was blowing EVERYWHERE). But the good news is that my illness is pretty much gone. So yay. Take that, nasty chest cold!

After we got home from our run, I actually felt REALLY good and even had what you might describe as a runner's high (hooray!). We did the laundry and I folded it all and put it away while Wilson did his school-work (he's in animation school right now); then I did some core training . . . and actually contemplated heading out to run AGAIN and log some more miles. But I thought better of it and told myself just to hold onto that desire for the next time I run.

Work was slow today, so I used my lunch break to hit up the gym, where I got in 15 minutes of hard biking + some medicine ball core work + biceps/triceps/shoulders. I feel good and strong now. Ah, how I missed you, strength training!

Finally, I have to share a delicious recipe with you all that Wilson and I made this weekend. I found it here.

Ingredients:

-2 large sweet potatoes (about 2 lb), cooked, peeled and chopped into 1 inch pieces
-3 cups cooked quinoa
-1/2 cup almonds, chopped
-3 oz. fresh baby spinach, roughly chopped
-1/8 cup white wine vinegar or rice vinegar
-1/8 cup sesame oil
-2 T. soy sauce/tamari
-2 T. agave syrup
-1 t. powdered ginger
-1/2 oz. chives, chopped-zest and juice from 1/2 orange

Directions:

1. In a small bowl, whisk together the vinegar, oil, soy sauce, agave syrup, ginger, chives, zest and orange juice to create the dressing.

2. In a large mixing bowl, fold together the sweet potato, quinoa, almonds and spinach. While stirring, drizzle the dressing over top. Taste the salad and add the dressing to your taste.

3. Refrigerate the salad for about an hour before serving. This salad tastes good cold, or at room temperature.

As I am from the Midwest and I add meat to everything, I added some apple-chicken sausage and it was AMAZING! If you are a quinoa fan (and you should be), I'm going to have to recommend that you try this out. It's a winner for sure! I'm trying to focus a lot more on nutrition these days, and this recipe just goes to show that your food can be nutritious AND delicious!

Alright, sorry this post was kind of all over the place! Hope you all had wonderful weekends! :)

I think I forgot how to run . . .

2009-05-08T15:41:00.002-04:00

Okay, you guys. I know I am supposed to be working on getting Long Branch Half photos up here, but you're gonna have to wait because I am having some technical issues--and not of the interweb variety either. Nope. I? Am having some technical issues with running. Okay, fine . . . I admit it. I think I forgot how to run! WTF?! HELP!

It all started on Wednesday. I gave myself Monday and Tuesday off to try to recover from the half-marathon from hell and the beast that had taken over my chest and lungs. Wednesday, I was back at it. Wilson and I set out for an "easy" run of about 4 miles. Well, wouldn't you know, I felt like my stride was totally jacked and my legs were fumbling about as thought I was a baby giraffe trying to learn to walk. Not. Even. Kidding. It was that bad. The run kind of really sucked, mostly because Wilson felt the need to rub the fact that I was struggling in my face by constantly running about 20 yards in front of me (yes, even when we ran through the Red Hook projects and I was almost kidnapped and held for ransom--true story).

We got home after our run, and I was relieved to learn that we had at least covered the run at a 9:16/pace--not a pace I'd expect to be struggling with, but respectable enough that I didn't freak out (much). Fast-forward to this morning. We woke up at 5:45 a.m. and hit the road, tackling one of our favorite routes, the out-and-back Brooklyn Bridge ass-suck hill run. Um, if you guessed that this run sucked too judging by my description of it, you are right. More of the same old baby-giraffe-lame-leg syndrome. In fact, my legs got so tired, I stopped to walk with like a tenth of a mile of the uphill climb to go on our way back to Brooklyn. GRRR. I don't know why, but my legs just don't seem to be cooperating.

I wouldn't be so darn freaked out if my legs just felt tired and heavy . . . THAT, I've felt a billion times before. It's the "my stride feels really weird and foreign, as though someone cut my legs off in the middle of the night and sewed on somebody else's" part that is giving me panic attacks. Has anyone ever experienced this before? Am I going crazy? Did I seriously "lose my stride?" Wow, all I keep thinking is that if I really did lose my stride, I'm sure as hell not going to make a very good parent! Ha. But seriously, I'm scurrrred! I am praying it comes back to me during this weekend's long run of an undisclosed/undecided distance.