I am extremely snotty

I am fully aware that I am one snotty girl.

I mean, I have waxed poetic before about how entirely snotty I am.

It's really a problem. If you are around me long enough, you might be hit by my snottiness. Literally.

So today I could tell on my run that spring had officially arrived and I once again turn into a very snotty chick. It's very attractive. I'm getting pretty good at the ol' farmer's blow. Just watch out if you're behind me.

You know what? I just wasn't that into my run today. It was great to be out there in SHORTS! SHORTS! today, and Ana and I had some good conversation as usual, but we decided we were just kind of over it. Good thing it was a nice and easy long run before I throw in some more race pace stuff.

Speaking of which, I just saw next Sunday's run already. Gulp.

5 miles comfortable pace, 9 miles goal marathon pace, 4 miles comfortable pace.

I do believe she is trying to kill me.

So I have a full 7 days to wrap my head around that and get psyched up for it. Not psyched out. Which, I'm not gonna lie, is how I felt about five minutes ago when I looked at it.

If this was easy, everyone would be doing it. I signed up for this. Time to go hard or go home. These next two weeks are pretty damn important.

And another good history-related quote comes to mind:

"The greater danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short; but in setting our aim too low, and achieving our mark."
— Michelangelo Buonarroti

I need to remember that I had the option to take the safe route, and I have made the conscious decision to ignore that.

And today, another milestone

My fastest 16 mile run ever.

Including 6 in the middle, and all but one between 8:14-8:16.

Very tough, but very solid. My hammy is barking at me, so I'm stretching like Gumby.

I'd have to say this was a nice little comeback week of training. Three more hard ones before taper.

Bring it.

Dreading and Owning

So I had this workout on the schedule...I saw it Sunday and kinda went, gulp.

That's gonna be hard.

I thought about it often this week. I kept thinking how it was going to be hard, and how I was going to really need to dig deep and focus.

Coach Emily wants me to do some Yasso 800s. It's an aggressive pace for me to hold for an 800, but then again, I'm going for an aggressive pace for me for 26.2 miles. So what I needed to do was hit a track.

Except we got a SNOWSTORM yesterday. A FREAKING SNOWSTORM.

Arg.

So track at 5:15am + snowstorm would not be a good idea. I opted for the treadmill...better than nothing.

This was my first attempt, so I was to do 5. I was supposed to start these before I got sick, so I'm definitely late to the game. But what's done is done--I have to look forward now. Coach gave me permission to do the first 2 at 8.1 mph and hold the last 3 at my required pace of 8.2 mph.

I know the tready is easier than the road, so I do know I need to get outside soon for these. But in the meantime, I decided to face the dread head-on. I loaded up the iPod with lots of new tunes and made a playlist entitled "ALL IN." I knew it would be handy while I was running staring at the wall the next morning.

I started to get pumped.

The alarm went off and I was ready. Bring it. I knew it would be a good run. I started and my warmup pace felt easier than it did on Tuesday...progress, noted.

Then I busted these things out.

The first 2 I did do at 8.1mph, and it was tough but doable. I did the next 2 at 8.2. Difficult. Done.

The last one I did at 8.3 since I felt guilty for being on a treadmill for these. It was very tough. But I put the Eminem on and really focused, and got it done.

So there's 5 Yassos. I need to work up to a few more, but it's a good start.

I was so pumped when I was done after the full 7+ miles that I did some upper body work, did one extra chin-up (yay!) but still workin' on those pull-ups...and even had time for breakfast, coffee, and a much-needed shower before work.

All day I've been in a good mood. I am feeling good. That workout made me feel good.

I'm starting to really believe.

BOO-yah.

12 miles, 9:04 pace, outside with Ana, felt GREAT!

THAT was good for the head.

Next week I'll be ramping back up to 16. Bring. IT.

Gonna go hydrate myself somethin' stupid now!

Seven Weeks

So I know it's been quiet over here.

Part of that is it's the end of the 3rd quarter. In fact, I have a pile of AP essays sitting next to me now begging to be graded. Sigh.

But part of that is that I just haven't quite known what to say.

I got ANOTHER infection last weekend. The doctor thinks it was a secondary sinus infection. Basically, I felt like butt. Headache that literally had me laying around like a slug (which works very well with two toddlers--my house looked like a tornado had come through) and begging for mercy with the most disgusting matter ever coming out of my nose. After a 5 mile treadmill run that literally almost had me in tears because how on earth was I ever going to run this pace again?, I cried uncle and called the doctor. She put me on antibiotics. I've taken it relatively easy over here--a MUCH better 5 mile run yesterday morning that even had me feeling like Rocky and busting out some pushups afterwards, but when it comes down to it....

I am still not 100%.

It's been over 2 weeks. Two very, very important weeks of training in a very, very important part of my marathon training plan.

To say I've been panicking is the understatement of the century.

Yesterday I lost it. I came home from work and was already bawling. Matt had no clue what to do with me. I just kept thinking how things were going so well, and this was my one chance...one chance before the times dropped down to what is darn near impossible for me, given my daily life responsibilities.

I felt like I was watching it slip away.

Emergency email into Coach Emily (who, by the way, kicked some serious ass at IM San Juan 70.3...she's pretty awesome like that). Basically saying something to the effects of:

Am I out of time?

Out of miles?

Do I give up? Do I drop to the half or do I readjust my goals and accept that this isn't in the cards?

She gave me a nice and much needed ass-kicking to the head. Here are some of the points raised:

1. There are 7 weeks left. There is still time to ramp up my miles. Not much, but enough.

2. What's the worst that can happen here? I blow up? So let's say I blow up. The sun will still come up on May 16th. The earth will continue to rotate on its axis. Life will go on.

3. She directed me to this article. Specifically, the part about Kara Goucher at the end. Is awesome. "I either need to be all in, or this isn't going to happen....my key word now is free...free of limits of myself, free not to do anything but run as hard as I can..."

I'm coming to terms with the reminder that this is, in fact, a MARATHON. There are NEVER any guarantees in a marathon. There is ALWAYS the chance you will blow up. There was before, and there still is now. These two weeks have not changed that entirely.

This has never, ever been easy for me. I am not the best athlete. I never have been. But what I do have going for me is a borderline irrational level of determination. I know that if I lined up on May 15th wearing a half marathon bib or standing by the 3:50 pace group, regardless of what happened at the finish line, I wouldn't sleep well that night. I would wonder. I would feel that I haven't given it my all.

That I wasn't all in.

The next seven weeks will be a true test of how far my heart can get me. I am going to have to work harder now than I was going to before. (And that was going to be pretty damn hard to begin with.) I am going to focus on just doing what I can do--letting these two weeks go, and focusing on the future.

And now I'm about to get all history on yo' asses. ;)

One of my favorite quotes that I always give my AP kids every year before they take their test--in a note I write to them with smarties stapled to it--is the one I had in my bento box the day I did Ironman almost five years ago. I think I need a refresher.

"The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat." --Teddy Roosevelt

No one ever said this would be easy. Especially for me.

It's about damn time I freed myself from my own limits.

What To Do When You're Hit with the Flu

Maybe you've already been there. Maybe you haven't yet.

But trust me, you will someday.

Everything will be hummin' along just fine...training feels great, you feel great. And then one morning, your run seems a little harder than usual.

Hmmmm. That's strange, you think. I wonder why my heart rate was so high, or why I couldn't maintain that interval as easily as I could last week. Ah, well, it's probably nothing...

And then the next thing you know, BAM! For me, it was 103 degree fever and the flu.

Now, if you're anything like me, you're a Type-A triathlete who probably thinks, "No big deal! I can take an Emergen-C and everything will be FINE! I can totally still run (or bike or swim) long tomorrow like I have scheduled....cough cough WHEEZE."

The fact of the matter is, sometimes you get sick. Especially up here in Northeastern Ohio where March is undoubtedly the most unpredictable weather ever. Literally, one day is sunny and 62 degrees...kids are wearing shorts and flip flops, everyone is riding their bike outside, and I swear I even saw some girl sunbathing in her front yard after school. (We get a little excited at anything over 50 degrees here.) And the next? 12 inches of snow.

What to do, what to do?

Well, I'm going to write this to myself, here, because I am TOTALLY awful at following logical advice when it comes to training. I don't slow down well. But here I am, on day 5 in bed and finally feeling a bit like the old me again, so I'm going to give myself a few reminders. Hopefully, if any of you get hit with something nasty, you can find some advice here, too.

1. First of all, STOP. Seriously. You have to stop. No good, I repeat, NO GOOD will come if you try to continue hard workouts right now. A good rule of thumb I've always followed is that if your congestion is from the neck up, you can probably continue some light workouts (but keep them LIGHT!), and if it's from the neck down, you should rest. Chest congestion is nothing to mess with. Neither is a fever. As hard as it is (and believe me, I struggle with this one!), you have to take a few days and just rest and hydrate. Remember, you have a bigger goal here. Most training plans for endurance events last several months. Repeat after me: taking it easy for one week will not make or break a training plan. (And yes, I'm repeating that, too!) That leads me into point #2...

2. Don't let your head mess with you. Again, even with the nastiest of flus (which I am currently getting over), this is one week. I will be the first to admit that I was in full-fledged panic mode last Saturday. All of my friends were racing Saturday, running long Sunday, and my running partner had a good solid run. All without me. It was rotten. I felt like certainly I would never! race! again!, but after another day of thinking and looking at my training log, I was slightly reassured. I've put in a lot of miles to this point, and I still have a lot of miles to go until my big race in May. I've come to terms with the fact that things will somehow work out and be okay.

3. Think positive. For me, I read some of my favorite tri and running blogs while drinking orange juice. I spent time getting lost in Facebook land on the pages of my favorite tri-products, like SRAM, Specialized, Headsweats, Zipp, 2XU, and CycleOps. I looked at race registration pages for races I plan to do this summer, and signed up for my big team race at Lifetime Fitness. Another way to keep your eye on the prize is to pick up a new book related to your season. For me, I am reading "Training and Racing with a Power Meter" by Hunter Allen and Andrew Coggan. This has gotten me all geeked up for when I finally feel better and can hit those roads again! Another one I love is "Run Like A Mother" by Dimity McDowell and Sarah Bowen Shea. Anything that keeps your mind moving forward about how good you'll feel at races when you're healthy is a great thing to do right now!

So listen up, sicky (and yes, I'm talking to myself here)...this is NOT the end of the world. Get yourself another glass of water, pick up a good book, go register for that race you've been eyeing this summer, and remember, the sun will come out tomorrow. Even if the day after that you get snow.

Happy Spring Training, everyone!

The Doubt Monster

Lady Gaga has her "Fame Monster."

I've been noticing a doubt monster.

He creeps around every once in a while. Sometimes I see him when I'm getting ready for work. Sometimes he peeks his head from the corner of my disaster-zone basement when I'm running on the treadmill. For some reason, I think he's blue. And fuzzy.

And tonight, I swear he crept behind the door at Urgent Care when the doctor on duty told me I had PNEUMONIA. Effing pneumonia. No running for 1-2 weeks.

1-2 weeks?

Bodies have a way of telling you they have had enough, thank you very much. It's been pretty high-stress around here lately, and I think that along with my unwillingness to back off or budge on my training (despite coughing all week--oops) has finally caught up with me.

And now I'm staring the doubt monster directly in the face.

I know it's normal to be afraid sometimes. My attempt at a 3:40 will take every ounce of guts, blood, sweat, and tears I have. It is the upper limit of what I can do, and I know this. I might crash and burn. I've accepted that.

But now I'm wondering if missing 1-2 weeks right now, in what should be the thick of my training, is going to make it out of reach. And that makes me feel like I am giving up. And I hate that.

I'm wondering if I need to realistically re-examine my goals right now. Maybe it makes more sense to try for 3:40 in the fall. Hell, that's the magic number I need for what seems like forever. It's not going anywhere.

But then I feel like I'm giving up; admitting defeat. And that's worse than this stupid pneumonia that has me with a 102 degree fever and feeling like I've been hit by a semi.

I guess what I need to do is see how long it takes me to recover from this stupid thing. Maybe it makes sense to downgrade to the half. Maybe it makes sense to adjust my goal for the full.

Right now I wish this stupid doubt monster would leave me alone. And I just wish I felt like myself again--the one with a take-no-prisoners attitude, do or die, 3:40 or bust. I hope she comes back soon.

Lookin' Up!

Well, things are better than we thought.

Turns out most of the things that are NOT covered by insurance were able to be saved! TV is OK (whew). All our furniture we got after this happened the last time was able to be cleaned.

And my treadmill....TOTALLY!TURNED!ON!YAAAAAAAAY

It's still a disaster down there as is my house--it basically looks like Fisher-Price threw up everywhere--but it's gonna be okay. A little while until things get back to normal, but okay.

This week's workouts, however, were NOT okay. I kind of dropped the ball. Still managed three runs and one ride, but still not what I needed to do. Ugh.

So I was going to run with Ana this morning--a pretty specific run including 35 minutes at marathon pace. And then I got up to SNOW. AGAIN. Covering a lovely layer of black ice.

&**^^*(), @@@*&^)%!

We debated what to do. The black ice is what really stinks, as we just didn't want to risk turning an ankle. So we decided to run on the treadmill and indoor track at her gym. She said it opened at 7, so she picked me up at 6:55 and off we went. As long as we were back at her house by 9:20, we'd be good.

Except it was closed. She read the schedule wrong--7 on SATURDAY. Bummer.

We zoomed home and figured we'd give it a go. I couldn't BEAR the thought of another 2 hour session on the dreadmill. So we set out and it wasn't too bad! I wore my trail shoes to give me a little more traction and protection from the slush. We had to slow it down a bit and didn't attempt the pushes. But we still got 11.25 in before she had to run home, and held it right around a 9:10 pace. Alright, given the conditions.

Then I hopped on the treadmill and grabbed some trusty tunes to do the remaining 17 minutes I had left at 8:20 pace. It was tough and I was definitely tired, but I got it in.

When all was said and done, I managed 13.3 at just about a 9 minute pace. Not the workout I was hoping for, but one that is good money in the bank nonetheless.

Went to the zoo, looked at lots of monkeys and snakes, and now I am going to have some bonding with my couch and Toy Story 3.

Hope you stay warm if you're around here, and if you're not and it's warm out, can you please send some my way? I'm beginning to think this Groundhog was pulling my chain.

Last Basement Run

I didn't realize that would be it.

I'm very sad. I got up this morning, went down to work out, opened my basement door, and was greeted by what I can only describe as a murky, brown lake in my entire basement.

We measured. After it receded, of course, since there was most likely sewage.

6 inches of water. And other stuff.

I cried. A lot. And I'm still crying now. I made it to work for the second half of the day--mostly because I had to--and managed to get through it but was absolutely exhausted when that bell rang after trying to figure out what the sub did and get my AP kids back on track and pick up the pieces from last week's snow day and WOW.

We've lost everything--they came and stripped the carpet and the walls today--literally took the drywall off of half the wall--and all the furniture is ruined. My treadmill. The television. Our brand new washer and dryer we had saved up for the past few months. We aren't sure yet what insurance will cover, but it's been an emotional day.

I'm not sure how I am going to get through any workouts without that treadmill. I will miss the basement we poured our hearts into remodeling four years ago. I will miss snuggling with Bug on that couch and watching Phineas and Ferb. I am swinging back and forth between "things are just things" and, damn, I am really upset about this.

And needless to say, it couldn't have come at a worse time. For work, or the Ohio weather will continue until April that just took out our playroom. The room we go to when it's time to relax.

I am exhausted. Matt is exhausted. I can't take any days off work--I just burned my last half a personal day today cleaning any toy we could save with a bleach-water solution in the 41 degree drizzle. Matt and I won't have another day off until Good Friday, which is April 22nd, and unfortunately we don't have the kind of job that you can just take a day off. Lately, it seems that we've been just passing by, grading late, falling asleep without even having time to talk because we are so overwhelmed. But we do have jobs. And I'm trying to remember that it's just a basement, and things could be much worse.

This is what you call a rough day. I could really use a run right now. But it's icy and dark outside, and my treadmill is gone, and did I just admit that I miss it?, and I'm so, so overwhelmed.

Hopefully I can sleep a little better tonight. And remember that it is just stuff, and that all the memories I have down there of my little ones playing and all the snuggling we did and exercises we did will be made in whatever new place we can replace it with.

I'd Like to thank The Academy!

Well, no.

Not the Academy.

But I do have a list of people to thank for my unfortunately unavoidable 13 mile run on my treadmill today!

Gosh, where do I begin? I don't want to leave anyone out...so many to thank...my agent? No, wait. I don't have one of those.

First and foremost, my hubby, for keeping one year old Bean away from the treadmill by feeding her in her high chair for, oh, almost an hour and then entertaining her on the floor as she is like a moth to a flame when I run on the treadmill. Thank you--I couldn't have made it without you, and your master of distraction Jedi-like powers.

For Phineas and Ferb--you were on a loop there for a while, but Bug loves to watch you guys, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I used you to keep him entertained for a while as I was doing "my exercises." No shame, Phineas. No shame.

For Mugsy the Wonder Pug, for not barking too much when Bruno, the huge dog from a few doors down whose owners let him roam free at all hours, was clearly nosing through our trash. Mugsy...*dramatic pause* words can't express how much that extra 24 minutes in the morning before anyone got up helped me. *sniff, sniff* Thank you, Mugs.

And to Eminem. Your new album kept me going as my iPod has gotten rather stale.

And to Mint-Chocolate Gu. Sweet nectar of the gods.

And to my legs, which carried me in 13 miles in a super boring training run on a treadmill faster than my first half marathon. To my head, that's starting to come around and realize this progress.

And to my heart, that does it because I don't want to give up this morning time with these two, and refuses to accept anything less than my best.

I don't even need a gold statue. I've got a crazy pug to lick the sweat off my legs when I'm done and two kids to tackle me when I'm "all sweaty." That's better than a gold statue, in my book.

Treadmill fun, OR, why I'm a 5K Underachiever, OR, am I crazy?

So I had a long run this weekend. And it didn't go very well. Which is the first time in a long time I've had a bad run, so I guess this is to be expected from time to time, no? I can already tell you some factors leading up to this:

1. I was stressed to the max with interims due and getting ready for Bean's birthday party
2. This means NOT sleeping well (again--shocker, right?)
3. I had some good, but very challenging runs last week, including quite a bit of mileage under 8 minute pace (which for me is fast)
4. I only had time for 100 calories of food before my run

All of that + super crazy wind + 20 minutes at marathon pace = BONK BONK BONK CITY the last 2 miles or so.

Despite that, managed to finish almost 12 miles with an average pace of 9:01. I'm trying to remember that this is still quite an accomplishment for me. The wheels came off of my legs, but my average HR on these runs is starting to drop a bit. That's a good thing. And if it wasn't for my dumb mistakes and lack of sleep, I think I would have nailed it.

I do, however, kinda miss feeling like a triathlete. I haven't been able to swim since January. Sad face. Matt played soccer last night in an open league against some kids that are in high school and play every day, and lamented upon how much better they are than him since he plays maybe once a week. (Despite this, the dude has serious game. I've seen him play--don't let him fool you.) But he was bummed because he knows what he COULD be if he could play 5 days a week.

Boy do I know that feeling. I remember what it was like to swim 5 days a week, and what I used to be able to do. But I know that I should still be glad I can swim 2 times a week or so during tri season and manage to pull off what I do in races. I know, I know. It's just...what if, right?

So I miss feeling like a triathlete. I killed my trainer workout yesterday and it made me really want to ride outside. I know at heart I am definitely a triathlete, but right now I am still enjoying this marathon training and the focus it's giving me in my limited time to train. The fact of the matter is, you can't do everything. And right now I can't get to the pool. And that's okay. It'll be there for me when I'm ready and able to jump back in again. I'm coming to terms with this. The swimmer in me is frustrated, but trying to accept this reality.

Today's treadmill fun from Coach Emily included some ARE YOU KIDDING ME moments, but I am happy to say I nailed it, too. And felt FABULOUS. This was a good mental boost after Saturday's bonk.

Here's the lowdown: those of you covered under a sheet of ice, give it a try! Just adjust the paces to fit your goals!

20 minute Warm Up to Zone 2 (I hold this around 9:13 or so)
6 X (:45 at 9 mph, 1 minute easy)
5 minutes easy
20 minutes as (5 minutes marathon pace, 5 minutes half marathon pace--2 X)
Cooldown -- 5 minutes or so

Total run: 1 hour
(I went 1:00.24 to make it an even 7 miles, because I'm anal like that.)

So first of all: 9mph is 6:40/mile! Say WHAAAAAAAAAAAA? I didn't realize that until I was actually doing it and almost falling off the tready. Because I'm no ESpeed, kids. That ain't my easy pace! I thought my treadmill was going to laugh at me. But I held on for dear life. I made the 1 minutes easy VERY easy so I could recover. Like 10:00/mile easy. Whew.

Then I did 5 minutes back at Zone 2. No big whoop.

Now the interesting part. I had to ask Coach E what a realistic half marathon pace was for me. I mean, obviously I know my full pace goal is 8:24. But what can I do for a half? I dunno. I want to go low 1:40s but wasn't sure if that was realistic. She assured me that both a "1:42 at 7:47 and 1:44 at 7:56 are totally doable." Well, if they are both doable, then I want the faster one. So that's what I held for those two 5-minute pushes.

Then I got to thinking a little--and this is what makes me go GULP--that I am pretty sure I've never held anything better than 7:42 or so for a 5K. But I never race 5Ks. I hate 5Ks, actually. Does this mean I'm just a 5K underachiever and my 5K PR should be much better than it is?

I sure hope so.

Because I'm going to go for that 1:42 or blow up spectacularly trying. It feels hard, but good. Of course, we'll see how that goes after an hour or so, right?

Regardless, it was another solid run this morning and some good money in the bank.

And now, off to my regularly scheduled life and responsibilities. :)

One Year Ago Today....

...I went into labor around 6pm or so. I watched Cars with Bug and knew this would be the last time it would be just me and my Bug.

I was excited. I was terrified. I couldn't wait to see who this little bean was....

And, at 4:15 in the morning on the 21st, after hours of work and months of wondering and years of dreaming of her I finally met her.

And it was my Emery Bean.

Thank you, Emmy, for bringing more joy into our lives. We love you so much!

Happy birthday, Bean...

Love,

Mama

Five Minutes

I had what my 7th grade math teacher called a "Tornado Day" yesterday. Just one of those, whatever-could-go-wrong-will, Murphy's Law kinda days. It was already kind of an annoying day where I was slightly frazzled and annoyed. And then I got a text from a good buddy, Running Coach Kara, saying this:

"u need to run 3:35 this year for Boston"

What?!

What the...

I checked my email and she had forwarded us the link to the BAA's announcement yesterday about the new qualification times for 2012. And I totally get why they are doing it. I heard how fast it sold out this year, and I get it.

But this year. IT HAD TO BE THIS YEAR, DIDN'T IT?

$%&$%^^&@(&^#!)^%@@!

So then I was PISSED. Like really really pissed. I drove home with what I'm sure was a ridiculous scowl on my face.

FREAKINGFIVEMINUTES

To which my husband replied, "It's just five minutes."

Spoken like a guy who's never ran a marathon before, right?

So I thought long and hard about it. I slept on it. I lack of slept on it. I got up around 3:58 to pee and couldn't fall back asleep because I was thinking about it. And I realized something.

When on earth have I ever been afraid of five minutes?

I had a long conversation with myself.

And I made a decision.

I refuse to fear five minutes.

And I later confirmed that these five minutes won't affect me in May--all it really does is ensure that 3:40 will be my time until I'm 40. Not until next year, or even this fall, like originally thought.

3:40 it is.

3:40, I'm out for you.

I don't need no stinkin' five minutes. In fact, I would like to state something for the record. In the words of one of the greatest fake Indians players ever, "I say, eff you, five minutes. I DO IT MYSELF."

My new definition of relaxing

So tonight I went to Target. All by myself!

Sigh. It was glorious. I listened to some good chill tunes on the way there, talked to Best Friend Sammy in STL, and got to wander all around Tar-zhhhay by myself wishing it were possible to buy everything. What a relaxing after school trip!

I know. That's pretty lame.

Anyway, so "relaxing" has become trips to Target solo and my wee hours workouts. I think I could use a vacation or something. But seriously--my 5am workouts are my secret little weapon. It's like I get an extra hour to myself that no one knows about. Who says you can't have 25 hours in the day, right?

It's going to hit 32 tomorrow for my run with Ana--WOOT! That, my friends, is what we call "shorts and tank top weather" here in the NEO. But I might just stick with running tights...just to be on the safe side.

Happy training!

Oh it's SO ON.

Some great stuff happened recently:

1. Not one, but TWO snow days in a row! I can't even explain how much I needed that.

2. I think I might have Ana convinced to do the full marathon and not the half = yay for long run company!

AND

3. We just smoked our 11 mile run outside despite the sheet of ice literally coating everything. It was one of those runs that boosts up the morale a bit. I was a bit overwhelmed this week and once again questioning my sanity of timing up a full marathon 2 weeks after the AP Test, which consumes me at work until the first Friday in May. But I'm running really well lately, and I'm gonna keep on keepin' on.

Bring on the miles.

And hopefully, the over-32-degrees-weather. Yeah. That would be nice, too.

Treadmill Fun

So, yeah. Snowstorm. For, like, 100 million of us or so. Now, I for one enjoy a good snowstorm in my line of work. It gives me an excuse to sit in my PJ's all day--except, of course, for the time I spend on the treadmill.

I used to think treadmills were EVIL! and the work of the devil. I've come to accept and even feel a twinge of--dare I say it?--love for my 'mill. It allows me to run during naptime, before school when it's too dark to go it alone, and, of course, during historic ice/snowstorms.

I thought I'd share a couple of my favorite treadmill workouts that superawesome Coach Emily has prescribed me. These are just hard enough that you read them and think, "Hmmm. That's not too bad." And then you start them and think, "Holy crap, is my heart going to BEAT OUT OF MY CHEST?"

(Or maybe that's just me)

Anyway, for those of you stuck inside due to extreme ice, here's a few workouts to try!

You can adjust your paces accordingly. My Zone 2 is around 9-9:15 minutes/mile. That's the pace I feel like I could go forever at, so start with that pace and then work up or down from there.

Workout 1:

20 minutes building to Zone 2

5 minutes at 7.2 mph

5 minutes at 7.5 mph

4 minutes at 7.8 mph

3 minutes at 6.5 mph

3 minutes at 7.8 mph or higher (I made it to 8.5! Yippeeekayyay!)

20 minutes to cool down

Workout 2:

20 minutes building to Zone 2 to warm up

3X (6 minutes at 7.6-8.0mph with 3 minutes easy in between)

20-25 minutes at Zone 2 to cool down

I know, right? They don't look that hard. But when I'm doing the workouts, I really have to focus. The tready is helping me win the head game a bit, and as soon as this ice thaws out I'll jump at the chance to try a nice hard tempo on the road!

Happy training--and stay warm!

Refresh Button

Today is a snow day here in the NEO. I actually don't think it's all that bad out--we've had to go in on days when the streets are much worse--but I'll take it.

I struggle a bit with January. I need to work on this. I love December and definitely hit a bit of a wall in January. I know it's the cloudy weather that plays a part, and I do my best to get outside even if it's fricken freezing to get a little sun time. This time, I know it's because Matt and I don't have a break together more than 3 days long until June, and I really think we could use a little vacation--even staycation--before then. But we can't, so I need to just deal with that. Our jobs don't allow us to take vacation days like many jobs do, so we're gonna have to soldier on through. And remember we both have jobs, and ones we both love, so June will be here soon enough.

Mentally, I've been a little overwhelmed this week, too. Last night I had one of my rough nights return--where I am completely, totally overwhelmed and can't sleep. I haven't had those in a while, so it was an unwelcome visit. And this morning's 5:50am phone call was VERY welcome, even if I was supposed to sleep until 6:25 since I knew the run this morning wasn't going to happen with last night's shenanigans.

Today, I'm going to get that challenging run in that Coach E has for me on the tready--I've come to both love and fear the Tuesday workouts. They look like they're not too bad, until I'm doing them. Then, while I'm holding a difficult pace for 5 minute repeats or so, I have to really bear down and focus. So far, my body has risen up to what my mind is telling it to do, which is a good sign. The Tuesday workouts seem to be very good for my head. I'm able to hit the paces I need to and I can tell I'm getting a little bit stronger each time.

I've also made peace with the fact that I will have to move a rest day to the weekend from here until May. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that. I mean, seriously. What endurance athlete has a REST day on the WEEKEND?! I have been programmed throughout the past 6 years to think weekend = time to shred yourself. The long bricks, long swims, long runs. But getting up early every day combined with my difficulty sleeping has resulted in a not very fun-to-be-around TST by Saturday. My "rest" day has been Friday, but what's been happening is instead of sleeping, I'm still naturally getting up around 4:45 and laying there thinking, "Damn. I should just get up and work out now." And then on the weekend I DIE. So last week was the first time I rested on the weekend: I had a solid, challenging 10 mile run in the snow last Saturday with Running Soulmate Ana, and then actually rested on Sunday.

Do you know how hard that was?

I mean, I couldn't rest. Matt was laughing at me. I just felt like I needed to work out. I finally settled on a bit of yoga and stretching in the evening, just so I could feel like I moved.

But I slept like a baby Sunday night--for the first time since I can remember.

So, I think I'm just going to have to break a few rules the next three months. Getting to Boston is going to require some creativity and (gasp!) flexibility on my part.

But for now, I'm gladly taking this day to drink coffee, watch my boys shovel and play "football" in the snow, and snuggle with Bean. Naptime will bring a run and a clear head. And I can head to work tomorrow after hitting the refresh button and be ready for a new month.

"How do you do this?"

I put a countdown on my board for my kids this week.

13 CLASS WEEKS UNTIL THE AP TEST AND 6 UNITS TO GO

(On a side note, I also taught about Roosevelt's "Big Stick" diplomacy to 3 classes of 16 year olds. Thank you for your pity. I can still hear the Beavis and Butthead-style chuckles....huh huh....she said carry a big stick...huh huh)

Underneath that, I wrote, 14 WEEKS UNTIL MRS. Z'S TEST. I figured they'd might as well know that I also have something big and intimidating looming in the distance. Something that right about now makes me go, "WHY did I do this to myself?" Kinda like what they are all starting to think, too.

I get asked "why" I do this stuff a lot. To me, it's like asking why I blink my eyeballs every few seconds. It's not a question of why I'm a teacher. A mother. A triathlete. It's just part of me. I wouldn't be me without these things.

But you know what? Sometimes it's not easy.

Actually, lots of times.

Okay. The truth. Pretty much all the time.

I find myself often saying, "How do I do this?"

How will I do this?

How am I going to keep this up until May? And remain sane?

Is it really possible to be a mother, wife, friend, teacher, AND athlete--all at the same time?

Sometimes other people ask me how I do all these things. And the short answer is, I don't really know. Day by day, I guess you could say. There is no secret. There is no recipe. You make it work the best you can. Sometimes, I cry. And sometimes, I cheat like crazy. By cheat, I mean I use meal-assembly places for dinner even though I love to cook and am damn good at it, if I do say so myself. It buys me a few extra minutes to play Buzz Lightyear with Bug. I have a lot of help from my family--I'm lucky to have pretty much one of the most generous and helpful husbands in the universe. He'll "sense" laundry and do it. He'll see that I really need to get a long run in and take control of the fort so I can skip out for a bit. You either make peace with the fact that housework will not get done, or you get some help. I realized that workouts will be less about socializing and more about getting to know myself. And I further appreciate how wonderful it is to have good friends to swimbikerun with--when I had all the time in the world I don't think I realized just how important that is. Now I make an effort to do one "social workout" a week, even though it's pretty hard to schedule. Lately it's been one every-other week and might have to go longer as work is going to pick up. But I know they are out there, and they'll be there, ready to ride and run with me when I can.

This has been a true exercise in letting the small stuff go. That's never been easy for me. I'm getting there, but it's definitely a work in progress.

Bottom line: this is very difficult and often overwhelming. But I love it. I love every second of every part of it, as much as it frustrates me from time to time and as much as I often question whether or not I'm good enough at any of it.

I love watching my students right about this time of the year, when they realize that there's no turning back--it's time to put the proverbial mental miles in, or pay the consequences. And most of them choose to put the miles in. It means extra hours for me after school, but I honestly don't mind. Watching them do what they need to do over the next three months is why I got into this line of work, anyway.

I love watching Bean taking her first steps. When we get home from work, I change as quickly as I can into my PJ pants and we all head downstairs. Bug makes me "dinner" with his kitchen and all the "food" we got him for Christmas, and Bean and I practice walking. Sometimes her little feet go too fast for her body and she spins out of control and starts to fall, face first. But I'm there to catch her. And she always giggles when she falls forward. She can't wait to get back up.

(I know that feeling all too well. Sometimes my feet just can't keep up with everywhere I want to go, either.)

Watching her giggle when she falls reminds me that falling means you are making progress.

Falling means you're going somewhere.

This is one crazy, simply amazing, simply exhausting journey I'm on. I'm not sure if I'm doing this right. I don't know if any of us really ever do.

All I can do is hold on, hope my feet catch up to the rest of me, and keep going.

The New Normal

So I did a heart rate test the other week. I haven't done one of those in quite a while. I'm not a big fan of heart rate training since I have a crazy jack-rabbit-hummingbird-on-crack heart rate to the extreme. My resting heart rate is usually in the 40s, but I've seen my high up around 194 at the end of races. And then there was that time I averaged--yes, AVERAGED--181 during the Cleveland Half Marathon (and felt fabulous, by the way!).

I guess I've resented heart rate training because I feel like it always prescribes me to go slow. SLOOOOOOOOOOOO----OOOOOOOOO--OOOOOW. Like, 27 minute mile slow.

Therefore, I give up, lose my heart rate strap (literally) and go by feel.

But, I'm trying to be good here and be a good little triathlete. And runner. So, heart rate it is. I am determined NOT to let it run me, but use it as another tool in the arsenal. I'm still a rate of perceived exertion girl at heart, I swear.

Good thing Coach Em gets me so well. She nudged me to get on the horse and freaking replace my heart rate strap, which I never would have done. (But I lost it! A convenient reason NEVER to use heart rate training again--yay me!) Amazon delivered, and I did the test on my 'mill.

As usual, my heart rate seems to have about 2 levels: rest and crazytown. My max was, yet again, over the "220-minus-age" standard, but that's nothing new. I feared Coach Em would prescribe me workouts crawling at about a sloth's pace. Sigh.

But HEY! That's not what I saw this week!

I was to run at about a 7-7.3 mph rate for 45-60 minutes this week. And at first I was all, huh? Isn't that too fast? Aren't I supposed to crawl for 45 minutes? But she said that's what the numbers showed, so that's what I was to do.

That is significantly faster than I usually plod along on my dreadmill.

I was a little nervous to try it out.

But you know what? I did it. And it was FINE. I was FINE. It was even (gulp) a little bit fun. I had one of those runs that just felt effortless and like I could keep on truckin'.

One of those runs that is money in the mental bank, for sure (not to mention the physical one).

I'm gonna blame it a bit on the post-pregnancy blood-doping, but I have to admit--I'm a bit shocked. Somehow I've turned into a chick that clips out 8:30s for a 6 mile training run without any problem. I didn't really think that was possible. I sort of thought I was a 9+ for-lifer.

Maybe that strap ain't the devil after all.

The Past Two Weeks

I had a really funny post all ready to type up on January 2nd, about how I jumped in frozen Lake Erie with a bunch of my equally crazy friends. I literally was going to sit down and create it. And then I checked the answering machine.

I heard two messages both with the same words: "tragedy," and "student."

We lost a student to suicide on January 2nd. It has been a very, very difficult two weeks. I've held it together at school for the most part, and then just melted down when I get home. This happened in my school six years ago, too. I'm finding it's a whole new dynamic this time around, now that I have a little boy of my own. I can't even imagine the grief that this family must be going through. It has kept me up at night. It has me breaking down crying while I'm trying to make dinner or give Emery a bath. Several times last week, it had me run upstairs to my room to slam the door shut so I could just sit in the dark and cry for a minute. Partially because I was angry, and partially because I was so, so saddened.

This week was better. The students seemed better, too. The rest of the school year will not be the same, but each day gets a little easier to walk by that locker or for the students to see the empty chair in their classroom.

Needless to say, I haven't had much time to write anything training-related as I just haven't been myself here the past two weeks. I've been running and biking like crazy, but also running myself into the ground a bit as the lack of sleep thing catches up with me by about Thursday. Hopefully that will subside any day now.

In the meantime, I thought I'd share something I posted on my blog for Bug. At the wake, I walked by all the pictures of Micah as a little boy, with his brothers and sisters and parents. And it reminded me that we all start out this way--with chubby cheeks and a big smile. Every student has that inside somewhere. My heart still hurts for his family as they deal with the loss of their little boy.

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I know that the days of you calling me "Mama" are numbered, Bug.

This week, we registered you for preschool.

Two weeks ago, we finally moved you into your "big boy bed."

Dare I say it...? Potty training seems to be almost done.

But you still call me "Mama." And I love it more than you know. I want to bottle it up and record it and play it over and over again when you are bigger than me...when you are in Middle School and want nothing to do with me...and when, inevitably, someday you are upset with me because I'm telling you that you can't do something you want to do.

(I mean, I do that now, too. But when you're screaming and throwing a fit, you still scream, "NO I DON'T WANNA DO THAT RIGHT NOW MAMA!" Still "Mama," see? Even in a meltdown, it melts me.)

Tonight I was the one to put you to bed, which I've kind of been loving lately. Even though it takes about 18 hours to get you to put on your PJ's, go upstairs, brush your teeth, and actually LAY DOWN FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, eventually we get to the point where you say, "I just want you to lay with me a little bit Mama" and, of course, I do. Immediately.

Usually we read a book or two. You always pick this really annoying Power Rangers book full of made-up words. I tried to BS my way through it tonight and you caught me. I was skimming and just describing the characters on a page that they had their ridiculous introductions with made up words, and you said, "No, Mama, you didn't say that the red guy's name was NICK."

And wouldn't you know it? On that very page, Nick the Red Mystic Power Ranger introduced himself.

Busted.

Anyway, I read most of the book despite my futile attempts to outsmart you, and then it was time for me to go. But you begged me to stay a bit more. So I did.

After about a minute, you put your arm around me and said, "I love you, Mama."

And I can't help it--anytime I hear you say that, it makes me immediately tear up. But you went one step further.

"Thank you, Mama."

I told you thank you for being a sweet Bug. You sighed and closed your eyes and then said it again.

"I love you, Mama. Thank you, Mama."

Waterworks.

And then you said it one last time.

"I love you, Mama. Thank you, Mama."

Then you said the phrase we always say when we're trying to get YOU to go to sleep:

"You need your sleep so we can play tomorrow, Mama."

And with that, I kissed your cheek, told you I loved you to the moon and back, and tried not to bawl as I tiptoed to your door to slowly shut it while you snuggled with your monkey and blanket.

These moments are passing too fast. You bring me such joy and I can't even begin to put it into words.

Thank you, Bugaboo.

I love you,

Mama