the one where I eat too much

Week 1 of marathon training is complete. Total number of miles: 19. Number of those miles run on hills: 16. Number of times my calves have screamed and begged me to stop: countless. I won't give you the count of the number of cupcakes, cookies, or bowls of ice cream I have eaten in the last few days because it's just obscene.

we tend to eat a lot of ice cream (yes, that's my in the background shoving a cookie into my mouth)

Yesterday morning, I ran my long run of 8 miles and then proceeded to walk all over the isle of Manhattan with my Mother. To say that my legs are tired would be an understatement. My Mom and I make this trip into the city every year. We wander up along the Hudson, take The High Line, walk through a street fair, have dinner, and just talk. It is beyond wonderful. 

NYC is the 4th stop on our Summer Grand Voyage. The kids are being completely spoiled by their Grandmother, who everyday brings them a new gift. I am being spoiled by my Gram's incredible cooking and am enjoying being able to run my old routes. I forgot how hilly this place is. This morning, I ran negative splits but that was only because it was all downhill. I'm looking forward to another week of running through my favorite parks and then we're off to the beach! Hopefully, all that ice cream and those cookies will not reflect too badly on my beach physique.  
      

Bunch of July birthday babies

the one where I start training for another marathon

At about mile 23 of the 2011 NYC Marathon, I half muttered, half wept to myself, "I am NEVER doing this again. This is STUPID! I'm tired, my feet hurt, and if one more person tells me the finish line is right up ahead I'm going to punch them in the face. And I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY want some Swedish fish." I was, therefore, most surprised, when approximately a week or so later, I found myself registering for the 2012 Anthem Richmond Marathon. Running marathons is kind of like giving birth - you forget how truly painful and terrifying it was and only remember the new cute little munchkin. Or in this case, how awesome it felt to finally get that medal.  


So here I am, 8 months later, embarking on another 16 week marathon training program. This will be my fourth marathon and I still feel like I have no idea what I'm doing. That's where the internet comes in. This time around, I'm utilizing the brilliance of Hal Higdon and his online Novice II schedule  (with a few minor modifications) to get me through the 26.2 miles and across that finish line. 


I learned the hard way that running 5 days a week is a big no no for me. I get burnt out, start to loathe running, and want to poke my eyes out. 4 days a week is perfect, especially with pace runs thrown in there. That's the key to a great training program; knowing what you're capable of doing and doing that really well. I'm going to rock the snot out of this training program.... 4:45 marathon perhaps?   


Because I know you all care so very much, I'll try to keep you updated on my progress and mileage. Thanks for joining me on this very crazy adventure... keeps your arms within the vehicle at all times and please, for the love of all things holy, bring me some Swedish fish!  

the one where I possibly jinx myself by switching shoe brands

I made a life changing decision the other day. After 10 years of wearing the same type of running sneaker, I switched to a new brand. *gasp*. I'm not really sure how that happened. I walked into Second Sole with the intention of walking out with a new pair of the Asics GT series. Somehow, I left with a pair of New Balance 860's.

There was a lot of jogging around the store, which if you've never done it, is very odd. I'm not a pretty runner when I'm wearing street clothes. It is also weird to jog in a store when other people are watching you. I never know what I'm supposed to say or even what I'm supposed to feel. "Oh yeah, I can totally feel that extra stability in the heel", or "Oooo, such a roomy toe box". It's like when you're at the eye doctor and they ask you which image is more blurry. I always lie and just say the left, with an occasional right, thrown in there for good measure.  

Picking out my new sneakers wasn't as much as a crap shoot as my eyes exams are, but it was still a little nerve wracking. I don't like change but every once in awhile you need to mix it up. This, people, is me living dangerously.

the one where we live out of a suitcase for a month

Living far away from family and friends has a few benefits. One, I don't have to worry too much about the state of my house because no one is going to drive 11 hours to make a surprise visit. Two, no one really knows how fresh my daughter is. They see cute pictures of her on Facebook and are fooled by the wispy blond hair and big blue eyes. The girl is straight up out of control. If this is any insight into her teenage years, I am in so much trouble. 

Overall though, it's pretty terrible to be separated by so much distance. It's hard on the kids, hard on us, and hard on everyone who loves us. We try to make it home (either to Ohio or NY) as much as possible. Currently, we are on Day 13 of our month long summer trip. By the end, we will have visited 4 different households and 5 different places. You haven't lived until you've dragged your kids all over the Eastern seaboard.  

First up was Bellbrook, OH; home to our dear friends from college. It's wonderful being able to spend time with people who knew you before you had kids. It's almost as if they help you to excavate that fun, carefree, relaxed part of yourself that disappeared among diapers and constant screams of "NO!". Our friends have a daughter of their own and another on the way. It will be a long time before either of us will be child free but its comforting to know that we're in it together.    

the future members of the commune

                                                     
Right now, we're in Canfield, OH, visiting with my in-laws. My kids love their Nana & Papa and all the attention they receive. Papa takes them for walks and Nana chases down wayward golf balls. There is a pantry full of treats and a dog to chase around the house. For Seth & I, being here means help with the kids. Other people to pull screaming toddlers out of booster seats that they strapped themselves into and other people to screw golf heads back on after W chips one too many balls out of the "rough". Right now, I'm sitting on the porch swing listening to music while E naps and Seth, his mom, brother, and W are out playing mini golf. I almost don't know what to do with myself. It is wonderful.  

E & Seth modeling Nana's creations

                                                 

Papa making Chocolate Zucchini cake

                                                 
Seth and I are still running. He starts training for his first full marathon this week and I start training for mine the week after. We're running in a local 4 mile race on July 4th (my 31st! birthday), and W is going to run the 1/2 mile kids run with his Papa. I have BIG plans to shave a few minutes off my time from last year. Let's hear it for a PR! Woot, woot!

the one where I run quick like a bunny

This morning, I ran 12 miles in 1:57. Let's put this in perspective. Less then a year ago I was running 10 miles in about 2 hours. So, in the time that it used to take me to run 10 miles, I am now running 12. Well on my way to running a 2:10 half marathon (which is one of my goals for this year). I'm not going to break any records or win any races, but gosh darn it, I am pretty freaking pleased with myself.

This did not happen overnight. 4 mornings a week, I get up and choose to go running. 4 mornings a week, I choose to go running and to make it worth the effort. Running is hard and it doesn't get any easier but it is worth it. Especially, when I have mornings like today - mornings where I exceed my own expectations.

It is amazing what we can accomplish when we want something bad enough. When we are willing to put the time and the effort in. Running is important to me, being the best runner I can be is important to me. This morning was as good as it gets. Raise your glass of chocolate milk with me, people, and celebrate!

the one where I step on a scale

Recently, I found out how much I weigh. If you know me at all you know this is surprising. I do not own a scale. I am not tempted by other people's scales. I hate knowing how much I weigh. It's a guaranteed way to get me depressed. When I was pregnant, I would stand on the scale backwards so that I couldn't see the number. A nurse once commented to me, "Wow, I would have never thought you weighed that much." Um. Yeah. Thanks. Took me awhile to get back on a scale after that.

I've never had a weight problem, but like too many young girls, I spent my teenage years convinced I was fat. I struggled with insecurities and blamed my body. There was a brief period where I cut my food intake in half. That ended with a fainting spell and the realization that I was being ridiculous. I like food. I like eating (I've never met a cookie I didn't like), and most of all I like living. How can you live when your obsessed with how many calories you're putting in your body and then how many calories you're burning?

Trust me, I am not the poster child for mental health. There are days when I'm not happy with the way I look. Two babies later and things are not as pretty as they used to be. However, that's where running comes in. Physically, it has helped me lose baby weight. It has made my body strong enough to run for hours at a time. Mentally, it has made me see myself in a different light. How can I be ashamed of a body that has carried me across countless finish lines?

I don't weigh myself because, to me, it doesn't matter. What matters is how I feel, how many miles I've put in in a week, and if I need new pants because my old ones don't fit. Running forces me to push my insecurities aside and to be proud of myself and what I have accomplished. I don't need a scale to do that.

Besides muscle weight more then fat.    

the one where I run trails and don't die

Sticks and stones may break my bones but running trails can only help me. Oh, I'm so good. I just came up with that little rhyme all by myself. That's what a four year liberal arts education can do for a girl.

This afternoon I allowed my friend to drive me to a local state park where we proceeded to run up rocky hill after rocky hill. We heard our shoes go "squelch, squelch" in the mud and watched as friendly squirrels crossed our path. It was hard. It made my lungs burn and my legs ache and it was FREAKING awesome! I felt so strong as the sweat started to pour and my breathing started to become more shallow. It was comforting to hear Maggie's footsteps beside me and to know she was working as hard as I was. 

Running trails is not passive. You have to keep your eyes on the ground in front of you, staying aware of each footfall and scanning the ground up ahead. As a beginner, there's really no time to settle in and lose yourself in the run. Instead, I found myself relishing each movement; the feel of my ankles and knees absorbing the shock, my thighs working to get me up those hills.    

It was a little scary and a lot exhilarating. I think I might be addicted.