Marissa's Run: The Run That Wasn't

Sweetness and I had planned to do this sweet little 5k trail run last Friday. We'd registered and everything.

Then, my sweetest little stepson said "hey, we're doing that one too!!!" Meaning, of course, the imperial "we," Mommie Dearest.

I am not one to run from an uncomfortable situation. And I have run in her presence before. That said, when given the option, I prefer to avoid unnecessary drama, and it was Date Night, and Date Night is sacred, people. I didn't want anything harshing on my mellow on Date Night.

Additionally, my faith calls me to live at peace with everyone, so far as it depends on me. And in this particular situation, living at peace with Mommie Dearest means I stay away from her.

So instead, Sweetness and I went to the lakefront and ran a 5k all by ourselves. It was great. There was a nice breeze, the lake was beautiful, there was music from the festival. Also, I'd forgotten that way back in my early days, I made a sad attempt at running along one of the piers and got about halfway down one side before throwing in the towel. This time, I ran the entire length up and down, plus two minutes before that and two minutes after. It was a really nice reminder of how far I've come.

Plus, afterward, we had dinner at Whole Foods. I love their salad bar. Sweetness had loaded baked potato pizza, which I will recreate at home in the near future.

Drama avoided. Date Night held sacred. 5k completed. Win. Win. Win.

Franklin Cross Country Two Miler: August 11, 2011

This was a fun family two mile course supporting the Franklin High School cross country team. It was an evening run, which I don't prefer, but the weather was relatively mild and the course was pretty.

I didn't have high hopes for this run, as I don't have a lot of training time in the summer, I was in a three day training MTW, and I had a touch of food poisoning the morning of the run, which meant I was slightly dehydrated. Also, the course was freshly mowed, and I couldn't get a handle on my breathing.

Still and all, I finished in 28:47, which is a little over a 14 minute mile, and less than the 30 minutes I anticipated I'd finish in. So go me! All my kids ran this course, and 2 miles is perfect -- not too long, but not too short. And my husband set himself a PR: 13 minutes and some change. Woot!

Next up, a trail 5k this evening with my husband for "date night." My, how my idea of "fun" has changed.

How Not To Train For A Half Marathon

Okay, so my half marathon is in (gulp) five days. My training walk/runs were going exceptionally well until mile 10.5/11. At which point they promptly fell apart.

But not because I'm "not built for it." No. And not because "I'm not fit." No. Double no. My long training walk/runs fell apart because . . . I violated the cardinal rule of training. Which is, DON'T CHANGE ANYTHING YOU'RE DOING IF IT'S WORKING.

Let me repeat that.

DON'T CHANGE ANYTHING YOU'RE DOING IF IT'S WORKING.

Lemme 'splain. For my long training runs, I would prepare thusly:

1) the night before, hydrate well and not drink alcohol in any form.
2) Wake up, eat well, dress in a singlet and compression tights or capris and my shoes and toe socks, fill my hydration pack and add Nuun or Hammer Endurolytes, fill my gel flask with Clif double espresso and chocolate cherry gel, and warm up walk 5 minutes, run 2/walk 2 for 4 reps, then walk 10 minutes, and rinse/repeat until I reached my destination on paved, well groomed roads.

Well. Apparently if I change ANY ONE of those factors, I promptly fall apart at about mile 10.

First try, I tried to cut out 5 minutes of the walk time between intervals, and I wore my brand spanky new CW-X compression capris that were supposed to be miraculous. Major big fail. IT band tightened at mile 10. Stopped at mile 10.5.

Second try, I tried a different gel brand, didn't eat very well, drank a beer the night before, and wore the CW-X pants again on a not very well groomed trail with nary a water stop. Also, lost one of my two gel flasks along the route. Major, MAJOR big fail. IT band and knee tightened at mile 7. Fell apart at mile 10. Had to stop and be rescued by my husband at mile 10.8.

All this as a public service announcement. Test yer gear and nutrition on short runs first.

Run Into the New Year 5k, West Allis, WI

What can I say about a New Year's Eve race in Wisconsin where I didn't have to wear a hat or gloves, or even a long sleeved shirt? All I can say is, I think the unseasonably warm weather today in the Milwaukee metro area (55 degrees!!! Seriously!!!) was a direct result of my running in below freezing weather two weeks ago to test out my gear. If I hadn't done it, well, it would have been freezing, so since I did it, God laughed at my plans and gave me drizzly warm weather. So, to the other 1900 or so participants who were the direct beneficiaries of my pre-planning: you're so very welcome.

But I digress. It was unseasonably warm, and so I wore the usual: running capris, a singlet, and the fivefingers with toesy socks. I tied a running jacket around my waist just in case. We left the house and got to the race about 30 minutes early. The pre and post run activities are held inside one of the exhibition halls at the State Fair Park -- including allllll the portapotties -- so when we walked in to get our timing chips, we were assaulted by the smell of . . . uh, Wisconsin's wonderful "dairy air." We stood around waiting for the race to start and saw, along with my dear husband's paper New Year's hat, a Viking helmet, a woman wearing a bridal veil (15th wedding anniversary!) and a Kermit the Frog stocking hat (admiring the headgear at these races is a good way to pass the time).

Five minutes prior to the start, we went outside to the seeding corrals. Sweetness and I found the "open seeding: all runners" corral and lined up in the back. Not too many walkers in the "all walkers" corral behind us, to my slight dismay.

The starting gun went off, which meant we had about 3 minutes of walking before we crossed the chip timing mat, but once we did, Sweetness started pacing me on the one minute run/walk pace we'd discussed. The first mile went quicker than I'd expected, probably because, as Sweetness told me later, my stride was a little longer than usual. And also, because I wanted to at LEAST finish faster than the people who were doing the race on motorized scooters. Yes, for real, I'm not kidding.

So we knew by mile 2 we (meaning I, because poor Sweetness, who ran it right by my side, was at half his normal running pace) needed to slow down a bit. We altered the run/walk intervals to 1 minute run/2 minute walk for mile 2. By mile 2, the really really fast people were finishing the 5k, and also, some of the really really fast people running the 10k (two loops of the 5k) were starting to pass us. Also, it is apparently my pattern that at about the halfway point of any athletic event I
get really irritable and negative, even if I've done the distance before in training. Don't know why, haven't a clue, but because poor Sweetness was there (and obviously bored, because he was practically going in reverse in the Sweetness time/space continuum) for about a quarter mile, the conversation went thusly:

Sweetness: "Okay, time to run again. Oh, wow, that guy looks really tired. Hey, aren't those the other kind of minimalist shoe you were telling me about? Aw, what a cute couple up ahead. Hey, let's see if we can pass them. "

Me: (hissing) "Talk less. You need to talk less. How much more running?"

Sweetness: "Thirty seconds."

Me: "That is appropriate (pant) and helpful talking. More (pant) of that kind of talking."

Sweetness: (oblivious to my minor discomfort) "Okay!!! ten seconds left."

And so on. Until mile three.

My mile 2 time was slower, right on target, so I thought we would do thirty/ninety, and I'd finish pretty strong. Mile three was also on target, and due to the weirdness of the course, we crossed the path of my sweet ten year old stepson, who was running the 10k.

Now, apropos of nothing, though I love my stepsons dearly, my stepson's mother and I . . . well, there's never been much love lost between the two of us. And of course, Mommie Dearest (yeah, it's accurate) was there with Sweet Stepson and probably waiting at the end of the course, and would rush Sweet Stepson and my other two stepsons far far away from us as quickly as possible, so as not to have to, you know, actually behave like an adult and allow my Sweetness to see his sons. This hurts my husband tremendously . And so, I cannot tell you how much this was suddenly harshing my mellow. Well, you can probably guess.

On the other hand, I am not one for letting mean people harsh on my mellow for too long. And by the last quarter mile of mile 3, I'd devised a plan. Heh.

I saved up what spring I had left in my step for the last .1 of the course, the last turn before the finish chute, and came around the corner, not sprinting, but not jogging either, a nice smooth stride, and smiling. Silly Stepson was standing at the finish, swinging a cowbell (as I am sure he had done for the entirety of the race). I yelled his name, and he looked up, confused. I couldn't help but laugh -- Silly Stepson is not known for the quick draw -- and I ran past Mommie Dearest commenting on how surprised Silly appeared to be to see me . . . running. Heh.

I crossed the timing mat -- couldn't suppress a primal yell -- then told Sweetness to find Sweet Stepson on the last quarter mile of the course and run the chute with him. Thus, I got to finish my 5k with my husband, scream my head off for my stepson and my husband, my husband got to run the finish with his son, and I got to irritate my husband's ex-wife and go home with my sweet husband next to me . Win/win/win/win/WIN.

All in 47 minutes and some change. Not bad for a Friday afternoon.

Barefoot: Or, Why I Wear Those Funny Looking Shoes

I should maybe back up a little and tell you, really, how extraordinary it is that I run. At all.

I have tried in the course of my lifetime to run several times, and never, prior to this time, have I been successful in the least. I would go to the local Discount Shoe Barn, pick a purdy pair of "cross trainers," put on cotton gym socks, lace the whole thing up, and inevitably end 200 yards later with my knees and ankles screaming for mercy. I thought for sure I wasn't built for running.

But then, a couple of things happened. First of all, I met my husband, a former Marine, a distance runner, and a stubborn sweet talker with a penchant for persuading me to do things outside my comfort zone. Second, he started wearing these butt-ugly toe shoes and running in them, and miraculously his knee pain disappeared. And third, he thought it would be a good idea if I got a pair too, so that we could run together.

After much gentle but persistent harassment, one day, to shut him up, I watched a video of a Harvard evolutionary biologist, Dan Lieberman, explain why running shoes sucked. It featured a woman of about my build (read: like a brick shithouse) being wired up on a treadmill which recorded the comparative impact of her running stride in regular running shoes, and in these funky toe shoes. In the regular running shoes, her stride was longer and her foot struck the ground heel first. The impact on her body was incredible, a sharp peak on the monitor followed by a smaller ripple effect. In the weird shoes, her stride was shorter, and she landed mid-foot -- on the part between the toes and the heel. The monitor recorded a lower, more evenly distributed impact. This Lieberman fellow is convinced that running shoes change the body's natural running stride to our detriment, and that we are born to run . . . well, barefoot.

I thought, what the heck, and walked down to the basement, kicked off my shoes, and hopped on the treadmill.

Ten minutes later, I was ordering the funny looking shoes. Turns out, the Lieberman guy and my husband were on to something. In the funny shoes, my stride is shorter, and my foot hits the ground on the middle part of my foot. My knees don't hurt. My ankles don't hurt. It's amazing.

Yeah, they're Vibram FiveFingers. I have two pairs now, along with three pairs of funny toe socks.

They may be funny looking, but they turned me into a runner.