Recap: The Good, the bad and the ugly

Wow, I've just been MIA for a few days now, haven't I? Well, as the title of this post suggests, the past several days have been full of some good stuff, some bad stuff and some all-around seriously ugly stuff.

Let's start with Thursday. I got to leave work at the very reasonable hour of 6:20 p.m., as I had to meet Wilson at MSG by 7:00 for the Rangers/Devils Game (if only I could leave work that early every night . . . sigh). The game was a lot of fun, and we got to consume hot dogs and beer--which always makes for a very happy Irish Cream. The Rangers even managed to pull off the victory, leading to the very childish (but very gratifying) chant of "You can't beat us!" as the last minute or so of play wound down.

Friday was a pretty busy day for me at work (this sick trend has been popping up all over the place as of late, and really should just go away). I left at the almost reasonable hour of 7:30 p.m., but was feeling ridiculously sluggish at the time. I also needed to stop by Target to pick up a gift for a baby shower that was taking place on Saturday. This led to . . . well, probably not what you're thinking. Nope. Instead of skipping my run and taking care of my shopping needs, I headed to the gym and changed into my running clothes. I then proceeded to get on the 'mill and run the first 2 of my 3.5 miles on a killer hill setting. Now you may be asking, "But Irish Cream, why did you do that if you were feeling so sluggish and tired? Don't you know hills make you MORE tired?" Yeah, who knows. In my defense, I did the entire run at a 9:40/mile pace . . . so I did kind of take it kind of easy pace-wise. But seriously, I just don't know what was up with the hill setting? I must have momentarily lost my mind or something. Maybe it's mad cow disease? Anyway, after my run, I decided to be even more of a nut and do a routine that will from here on out be known as "nuclear abs." Oy. It involved medicine balls and swiss balls . . . and it was just not very pretty, my friends. By the time I finished up, it was far too late to get make it to Target, so I simply took the subway home, praying all the while that I wouldn't resort to cannibalism and eat someone on the train (I was SERIOUSLY famished).

Saturday was an interesting day, to say the least. Wilson and I didn't get out of bed until LATE . . . I think it was after 11:00 a.m. (gasp!) We had been thinking about getting up early-ish and walking the 6 miles to Target and back (with the hope of avoiding the crowds and getting some nice cross-training in) . . . but sadly, this just didn't happen. We instead were forced to stop in on our way to the baby shower--at 3 p.m.--on a SATURDAY. Needless to say, IT WAS HELL (and yes--I did, in fact, drag my boyfriend to the baby shower--I know, I'm horrible). We made it in and out of Target without getting TOO violent, threw the gift together, and walked the mile or so to my friend Joni's place in Park Slope. We were there long enough to check out her new fab apartment (it is GORGEOUS), eat some delicious hors d'oeuvres and complain a lot about work (Joni's a co-worker). I, of course, gave my oh-so-helpful suggestions for what to name the baby ("Boomer"), then Wilson and I set off to find a fun place to eat dinner. We decided on the "Brooklyn Burger Bar" just down the street from Joni's. Wilson and I both had New Zealand lamb burgers, which were delicious . . . but the service was definitely a little lackluster (for some reason, there was just a ton of confusion over which orders were to be delivered to which table). Still, it was nice to actually get to have a dinner out. I know this sounds ridiculous, considering we live in NYC, but Wilson and I rarely eat out. We both like cooking, and we're also both cheap-asses. But I have to admit, it was seriously nice to not have to clean up after our meal! Instead, we set out on the beautiful walk back across Prospect Park--and thus, back into our own "'hood" (have I complained yet about how I live in the ghetto? No? 'Cuz I do).

Sunday, I woke up with the most ridiculous ab pain you could possibly imagine. It seriously felt like a bomb had gone off in my upper abdominal region (hello, nuclear abs!). I kind of thought I was going to die. It was BRUTAL. Wilson spontaneously decided to do some spring cleaning, and while I wasn't feeling so hot thanks to said ab situation, I decided that I wanted to play too! It was seriously tiring (and probably not the best thing to do right before a long run), but it felt really nice to be a little less cluttered! Eventually, though, it came time for our long runs. UGH. I have to admit; I was NOT looking forward to this week's long run. I guess my confidence has just been shaken a bit by my failures at long runs over the past two weeks (if you consider running the mileage called for by the Beginner's schedule a "failure"--which apparently I do).

Some weird things to note about yesterday's long run . . . 1) I spotted the first ice cream truck of the season, parked right outside of the park (despite the fact that it was only like 40 degrees out, the truck was definitely getting some business!); 2) the damn water fountains in the park STILL have yet to be turned back on--please, can this happen soon?; 3) some asshole tried to steal from me. As a result of the no water fountains issue, I'd brought a water bottle with an attached pocket thingy, which I generally put a gel or two into. Well, not wanting to carry the bottle with me, I tossed it down on the side of the road during my first loop--and when I came back around to it, the pocket was unzipped and my gel had been tossed aside, as though the person was rummaging through the pocket, looking for money. Ha, to tell you the truth, it kind of made me really happy to know that some idiot had to suffer the disappointment of discovering that I am not dumb, and do not leave valuable items in the little pocket attached to my water bottle, which I just carelessly toss to the side of the road every time I run. TAKE THAT! HA! Jerks.

Shockingly enough, though, I actually felt pretty darn good during the run. Wilson had 5 miles scheduled, and after we finished up with 5, I was seriously shocked to hear myself utter the words, "I'm going to run another 2 miles, since the Intermediate schedule calls for 7 this week." I took a second, kind of looked around, trying to figure out why I had just said that, and then figured I might as well go with it. Wilson took off in the direction of home and I ran a small loop to finish up my full 7. While doing so, I ran into my old buddy, Robert, on his bike (I swear to goodness, this man knows EVERYONE in the park--it's incredible) . . . and he rode with me, while I shared with him the story of my rocky first marathon. He had only kind words for me--per usual--and he threw in his usual dose of peer pressure, trying to talk me into getting myself a bike. Ha. (Because apparently it's a really good idea for people who have trouble not falling down when WALKING to ride bikes at high speeds. Riiiiight!)

I finished up my run in 1:10:35 (10:05/mile pace--aka SLOOOOW), and on my walk home from the park suddenly realized that my lungs felt like ABSOLUTE crap. It was seriously gross. It was like there was all this gross fluid down in there or something. I kept trying to cough it up, but apparently it's really difficult to cough when you are suffering from post-nuclear-abs-stress-disorder. And was I ever. I managed to make it the four blocks back to my apartment from the park without dying, and immediately thereafter threw myself on the couch and pulled a big, fluffy blanket over me (oh wait, could I possibly have forgotten to complain about the fact that my apartment in the ghetto has no heat? Yeah, true story). I was just sitting there, coughing like a crazy person, trying to get the crap out of my lungs--but it just wasn't working. I thought I was going to choke to death! As I was FREEZING cold (and still in my wet running clothes), I finally mustered up enough strength to shower up, change into some comfy sweats, and (of course) plant myself back on the couch.

Sadly, Wilson had other plans for me. He decided that we needed to go to the grocery store. So we went. And I complained the ENTIRE time, because I honestly don't think I have ever felt as defeated and exhausted as I did right there in that grocery store. I was exhausted to the point where I wasn't sure whether I could keep breathing--because it was just "too much work." Bizarro. I kept slumping over and leaning on the cart, seriously feeling like I was going to collapse. I even contemplated just sitting down on the floor for a while. It was awful. We finally ended our lovely outing when poor Wilson tried to ask me something about ice cream flavors and I just screamed, "I don't care! Can we please just go?!" Yeah. It wasn't pretty. I made it home, and planted myself on the couch for the rest of the night, with absolutely no intention whatsoever of moving ever again.

Today, I'm feeling ever so slightly better, but my lungs still feel like complete crap. I'm praying this goes away soon, but I'm thinking that coughing crap up probably isn't the best sign ever. Boo. Well, at any rate, it's a rest day for this chick, as I'm heading back to MSG for ANOTHER Ranger's game (and more hot dogs and beer--yum) tonight! Until next time . . .

Speed training = fun?

Who'da thunk I'd ever be saying that? Not me, that's for sure! When I was probably ten years old, my parents started forcing my sister, Mo, and me to go to track camp during the summer. I guess they thought we were slow or something, and were under the impression it would make us better soccer players (seriously, kids athletics these days--kind of scary, no?). When other kids were sleeping in and going to the pool, we were forced to attend hell--er uh--track camp. We absolutely dreaded it. I'm pretty sure there were times when we'd throw fits about not wanting to go. I'm also sure that we probably came up with approximately 6,734 different plans that we hoped would enable us to escape from said hell camp. Sadly, none of them worked. Thus, we were forced to go to camp day in and day out, and--gasp--work on our speed.

Well, my friends, yesterday I made my first attempt at speed training since my track camp days. And . . . I actually enjoyed it! I had 6 x 400 on the sched, and while I went into the workout assuming I'd H-A-T-E it, I didn't! Instead, I rocked it! I warmed up for a mile, then I did my repeats at an 8:00/mile pace (5K pace). Except, when I got to the last one, I decided to try running at a 7:30/mile pace to see if it would kill me. IT DID NOT! I kicked that last 400's B-U-T-T! I was seriously surprised to discover that it actually wasn't even that taxing. Granted, it was just a 400--I'm not sure I could hold that pace for 5K, but still--I'm pretty happy with my performance. I felt like a stud . . . especially because magazine-reading 2 mph girl was on the treadmill next to me. I made a point of dripping some sweat over onto her 'mill, to make up for the fact that she wasn't producing any.

As for the rest of the week . . . Monday, I took a much-needed rest day. All that was on the schedule was stretch & strength, and I decided to skip any type of strength training this week--in an effort to let my poor body rest a little bit. Tuesday was a 3-miler at a slower 10:00/mile pace (I was seriously sluggish). I'm supposed to be running a 3.5-miler today, but am instead going to the Rangers game tonight (YES!). At the game, I will get to consume two of my very favorite things--beer and hot dogs (how nutritious of me!). Thus, I'll be doing the 3.5-miler manana.

Well, that's all I've got for now . . . have a good one!

I Swear, I Do Run!

In order to prove that I'm really a runner and I do more than just sleep and have cracked out dreams, I've decided I should probably catch y'all up regarding some actual physical activity "achievements" made this week. Here goes:

Monday was to be a "stretch & strength" day according to my temporarily-downsized training schedule . I headed to the gym and spent about ten minutes warming up on the stationary bike. I then lifted a whole lotta weights while trying not to drown--and that's hard to do, my friends! Ha, I guess a water main must have broken or something, because the ceiling was leaking EVERYWHERE on the floor the weights are on! The floor was seriously just a thick layer of wet towels and overflowing buckets. I'll spare you the boringly specific details of how many reps I did of what (mostly because I'm not smart enough to know what all of the machines/exercises are called), but suffice it to say that I still can't lift my arms above my head, and my legs are essentially dead (whoops--that probably won't help my "exhausted legs" situation much!). Oh, and I didn't drown, so that's good too.

By Tuesday, the gym was all dried up. I had a 3-mile "easy run" on the schedule, and completed said run on the dreadmill (have I mentioned how much I absolutely hate straight treadmill running? Hills/speed/tempo are one thing, but straight running? FORGET IT.) My hate for what I was doing combined with exhaustion from working until 10:00 p.m. and THEN attempting my run made for a slow-a$$ pace. But it WAS an easy run. So I'm not very worried. In the end, my three miles averaged out to a 9:50/mile pace. I had every intention of doing some core training as well, but um . . . the gym was closing (and obviously core training is the type of thing that can ONLY be done in the gym--ha). Plus, I was thinking that I probably needed to go home and eat/sleep (who doesn't love scarfing down food at midnight and then going right to bed, only to wake right up and do it all over again? WOOHOO! LOVE my job!).

So there you have it. On the schedule for tonight is a 30-min. tempo run and the core training I blew off last night . . . that is, if I ever get to leave work! But let's be optimistic here, people!

Hope y'all had a great Hump Day!

Recap: Week One of Half Marathon Training; Also Known As, "What the Eff is Wrong With Me?!"

Hello, loyal readers (all two of you)! As promised, here is a recap of my first full week back in training. It started off pretty well, I have to admit . . . the end part of the week, though? Yeah. Not so good. Here goes:

Monday: 3-mile "easy run" at 9:40/mile pace; strength training-arms.

Tuesday: Hills. The schedule read 6 x hills, but I decided to get creative . . . and by creative, I mean, I copied a Grete Waitz treadmill plan I found on the internet. 1 mile warm-up; then (at around a 10:20 pace--or about 45 seconds slower than my (old) 10k pace) 1 minute at 2% grade, 1 minute at 4% grade, 1 minute at 6% grade, 3 minutes recovery at 0% grade (repeated 3x); 1 mile cool down. In retrospect, this seemed far too easy . . . I was worried about freaking my legs out too early on, but now I'm thinking I really should have pushed the time, considering my "10k pace" came from a year ago when I was a lot slower than I am now. If I attempt this plan again, I'll probably go for between a 9:45/mile and 10:00/mile pace.

Wednesday: 3-mile "easy run" at 9:38/mile pace.

Thursday: 40-minute tempo run was on the schedule, but I ended up working until almost 10 p.m. and was feeling a bit run down anyway. Thus, I ordered it a rest day.

Friday: Actual rest day.

Saturday: 3-mile "easy run" at about a 9:40/mile pace. On a side note, it was a seriously gorgeous day here in NYC! I got to wear shorts and short sleeves! Woohoo! I had been planning to do my long run of 90 minutes, given the gorgeous weather predicted, but was feeling seriously sluggish during my run and decided to swap Sat. and Sun. as a result.

Sunday: Okay, so here's where things went seriously wrong. Wilson and I set out for our respective long runs--he was going to run the first 4 miles with me, since that's what was on his beginner schedule--then I would continue on until I hit 90 minutes. Well, my legs had other plans. They were just ABSOLUTELY dead. I tried to run through it, but it was seriously crazy. I felt like I was back at mile 24 of the marathon! I started questioning myself and whether I was getting back into training too soon after my marathon. Um, well I guess that's probably a little bit true. In the end, I decided that if I at least finished the 4 with Wilson, I'd be keeping up with his schedule; so we both called it quits after running 4 miles at around a 10:10 pace. To punish myself for sucking (ha), I added to some core training to the mix back at home.

So now I'm left with the question of where to go from here. Do I drop to Hal's Intermediate schedule? Do I try to stick with the Advanced Schedule and just take it easy until I recover a little more? Do I forget the half-marathon altogether and run the 10K at Sunburst? UGH. I don't know. I really don't want to have to drop down to Intermediate, but I'm thinking that if I do, maybe I can just transition back into the Advanced Schedule when I start feeling stronger again. Thoughts?

Alright, and one more thing I've been needing to get off my chest. Since I finally have the forum to do so, I figure, why not?

This is a public service announcement for all of the a-holes in Prospect Park who feel the need to a) walk six abreast along the park drive, forcing me to pass their slow asses in a mess of bike and automobile traffic, b) dart across the street right in front of me when there is nobody behind me for MILES, c) pay no attention whatsoever to their devil children riding their crappy bikes all crazily in the direction of my shins, and d) pass me so closely that I can actually feel their breath on my neck when, once again, there is nobody within 500 yards of us: Um, yeah. Please die immediately. Thank you.

Enjoy what's left of your weekend, kids!
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RANDOM THOUGHT OF THE DAY: For some reason, I really love the Reese's Easter Eggs. I would never buy the plain old peanut butter cups, but the eggs? That's a different story! Yum! I guess peanut butter filled chocolate tastes waaaay better when shaped like an egg!

Happy Sick Day!

Confession time. As the title of this post suggests, I finally gave in and called out sick from work today. Am I actually sick? Technically, no. But when the alarm clock went off at 6 a.m., I awoke to a pounding headache. It seriously felt like somebody had bludgeoned the back of my head with a blunt object while I was sleeping. This coupled with the fact that I've been feeling a bit run down and tired since el maraton meant no early-morning 3-miler for Irish Cream. I told Wilson to go ahead and run without me, popped some painkillers and tried to go back to sleep for a while, hoping I could sleep the pain away. I woke up over an hour later and realized my head still kind of hurt.

Immediately, the thought popped into my head. "Should I call out from work?" Hmm. Whenever this question enters my mind, I go through the SAME EXACT ROUTINE. I argue with myself about the pros and cons of calling out . . . I start to write the email to my supervisor, then stop and delete it. I start to get dressed, then decide that even picking out clothes is "just too difficult" and go back to writing my email. Then I stress about the work that's going to pile up, and again try to dress myself. This awful cycle goes on until I realize that it's gotten so late that I'll be ridiculously late to work even if I go. Thus, I always do end up calling out. Why do I force myself to go through this routine every time I feel like crap? I don't know. I should really just write that email right off the bat and go back to sleep. Yet, I always seem to struggle with the thought of missing work (this despite the fact that I actually REALLY hate my job). Bogus.

So once I finally decided that work was out of the question, I decided it was time to pass out on the futon for a little sleepy time. I had a seriously crazy dream during this nap of mine. In my dream, all of the BP girls and I were running in this bizarre obstacle course marathon. I have no idea where it was supposed to be, but I distinctly remember that a decent amount of it took place in a mall. This aspect kind of pissed me off because they kept having us go up and down these escalators. Now, generally, I'd be all in favor of anything that MOVED MY ASS during a marathon. However, there were all of these people just chilling on the rides down/up and, damn it, I wanted to get past them! I also remember that there were a lot of distractions during the race. Like, at one point, we stopped to pose with some famous chick who was also running. I can't remember who it was now, but we were seriously excited to have our picture taken with her (that is, until the photographer proceeded to cut all of us out of the photo and just take a bunch of pics of the celeb--RUDE). For some reason, I also think we must have been lost or something, because we just kept on passing the mile-16 marker. Bizarre. And then at some point, I lost the girls because I had to stop to babysit for this rich couple's three kids (who all had seriously strange names--I'm almost positive one of their names was Timber). Yeah, I don't know. I finally woke up and was kind of pissed when I realized that I never actually finished the race. I tried to go back to sleep, hoping I could jump back into my dream and finish, but to no avail. Sadness. Yeah, so that was random! I'm not sure what the dream means, but it certainly was crazy.

Well, I still have an "easy" 3-mile run to finish up this afternoon. I was supposed to do strength training today as well, but I always get freaked out about going to the gym when I've called out sick . . . like I'm afraid I'll see someone from work at the gym and they'll be all like, "wtf are you doing?" I guess I'll just have to do some legs work after my 40 min. tempo run tomorrow. Should be a blast.

On a not really related note, could daylight savings please die? I am getting seriously pissed about the fact that it's pitch black every time I try to wake up early and run OUTSIDE. ALL I WANT IS TO RUN OUTSIDE! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, can it start to be light outside at 6 a.m.? I live in Brooklyn! It's not safe for a girl to run in the dark!! And also, some actual warmth from the sun would be nice. Am I the only person who really hates looking outside, being tricked into thinking it's warm out, and then stepping foot outside and realizing it's still ASS COLD?

Okay, enough ranting for now. I've got the rest of a sick day to enjoy :)
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RANDOM THOUGHT OF THE DAY: Why am I still so obsessed with Pat Benatar? Wilson claims this is abnormal ...

Superfluous Goals

So with my first marathon behind me, people have begun asking the most predictable of all questions, "What's up next, Irish Cream?" Alright . . . so, maybe that's not entirely true. In fact, it’s a complete and total lie. I just wanted to make it sound like people are actually interested in my training goals! In reality, people haven't at all been questioning me about my plans for the future. Where are you, people? I've been waiting here, all excited to give you an enthusiastic response . . . but no, you have to go and keep the magic question to yourselves! In all fairness, I’m pretty sure many of the folks I know think running a marathon earns you some kind of golden ticket that excuses you from exercise for the remainder of your life. It's as though you can test out of your lifetime fitness requirements just by completing that one race.

Yesterday, brimming with excitement about the imminent start of my next great training plan, I decided to test the waters with a co-worker. If people weren't going to ask, I was simply going to begin volunteering the information to them. Co-worker's and my conversation went something like this:

Co-worker: "Wow, I just seriously don't feel like doing work today."
Irish Cream (way too animatedly): "Well guess what?! I'm running a half-marathon in May!"
Co-worker (baffled): "What?! Again?! Didn’t you just run a marathon?!"
Irish Cream: "Well, yeah. But this one's a HALF-marathon."
Co-worker: “So how long is a HALF-marathon?”
Irish Cream: “Just 13.1 miles”
Co-worker: “JUST 13.1 miles. Wow. When do you have to start training for it?”
Irish Cream: “Actually, I start today!”
Co-worker: “ARE YOU NUTS? Don’t you want some time to just . . . relax? I mean, you just ran A MARATHON!”
Irish Cream: “Yeah, well, no. Not really. I actually am kind of excited to get back into training mode.”
Co-worker: “What?! You are seriously scary.”

So there you have it. I am currently in training for the Half-Marathon at the Sunburst Races in South Bend/Notre Dame, Indiana. My college girlfriends (“the BP girls”) and I have all agreed to run in one of the races (they have everything from a 5k fun walk to a full marathon) . . . and it should be a blast. I really think it will be a special race for me, not only because my girls will be there, but also because it marks my one-year anniversary of getting into road races (I trained for and ran the 10k there last year).

Oh wow. I just realized I never really got into the background story of “why I run.” Ha, most people seem to start their running blogs with one of these stories, but seeing as how I started my own blog with a marathon race report, y’all don’t know my full story! Well, that’s another tale for another day.

On the sched for today? 6 x hills. Yes, hills. Have I mentioned that I’m training for this thing using an Advanced training plan? Cuz I am. Have I ever run a half-marathon before? Definitely not. Am I doing this with the hopes that I'll finish the race in under 2 hours? You betcha. Should be a good time, kids! Oh, and have I mentioned yet that I already know what's up next AFTER the half-marathon? Yeah, cuz I do. I'm starting to scare myself.

Until next time, happy running everybody!

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RANDOM THOUGHT OF THE DAY: Pineapples are delicious. But I really don't get the name.