Well, I didn't run every other day last week. We were at a water-access-only cottage for most of the week and I would have had to boat out to run on a country road, which seemed not terribly appealing, especially with lovely hot weather and a lake to swim in instead.
After my 16km run awhile back, I played half a game of soccer the next day without ill effect (half because I got the time wrong and showed up late; oops). I ran fast and hard, however, for 45 minutes without feeling fatigued at all.
The next day I did a 90-minute hot yoga class. It was almost too easy, though. Nice, but easy. I did discover that my hips are ridiculously tight. Ugh.
I also got a few runs in, but not the five I'd planned: 9km slow; 7km in 35:35; 7km in 35:25. And a spin/weight class that really kicked my ass (we had a substitute teacher ...).
Then I spent a day canning, and the next day at a soccer tournament and packing and driving, so I got no runs or exercise in whatsoever. When we got to the hotel, I'd planned to run on the treadmill -- and the gym was already closed. I was pretty grumpy and irritable. Sitting does not suit me!
But on the first two full days of our holiday, I actually had back-to-back excellent runs in two different but very beautiful locations. On Monday morning, I ran off the stress of the long car ride by going 10km in 48:40. That's less than a minute off my fastest (okay, only) race time, so I was really pleased; especially pleased because I'd started with my fastest 5km time, speeding through it in 23:29. I couldn't quite maintain the pace, but I hadn't actually planned on running 10km, just got going and decided to keep going. In fact, I even stopped to walk after 9km, which had brought me back to the hotel, then thought, what the heck, I might as well see how fast I crank out a full 10, so I set out again.
The next day I ran 7km in 34:26, on a killer hilly course. I was pleased to be keeping it under 5min/km, which is my "fast."
And then I didn't run again until this morning! Circumstances.
But I did swim. I swam twice a day for about half an hour each swim. Two days in a row I also did a long distance swim that took me longer than half an hour. The second and last long distance swim actually turned out to be kind of scary. Luckily I had my husband along in a kayak (because there are motorboats and skiidoos on this lake too, and a tiny bobbing swimmer's cap isn't terribly visible). My arms must have been more tired than I'd realized from the previous days long distance swim, and the water was really cold. I started gasping when I put my head under -- but I was already way out in the middle of the lake by that point. Luckily, I could hold onto the back of the kayak -- my husband pulled me part of the way home until I was ready to try swimming again. The water is very deep and I found it kind of spooky looking down on all that dark nothingness. (That might have been making me gasp, actually, as much as the cold.) My imagination is way too over-active! I think it was my mental state more than my physical state that affected that swim, and which I couldn't seem to overcome.
Anyway, my advice is: never ever ever swim alone! I didn't do any of my swims alone, even the ones closer to shore, and I kept a close eye on my husband on his swims too.
But I'd do it again -- attempt the long distance lake swim. The first day I had some similar panicked moments looking down into the dark depths, but I was able to overcome my panic, and once I got over it, I felt like I could have kept swimming forever. My limbs were kind of frozen from the cold, but the rhythm felt very serene, as if it could be sustained for a very long time. I liked it. But I'm not making crazy August plans to swim across Lake Ontario next summer or anything ...
One other running note: I've noticed that my left knee aches after a slow run, but it doesn't hurt at all after a fast one. Curious, huh. The slow runs almost feel harder on my body.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Monday, August 13, 2012
Summer blues
August. Never my happiest month. I think I keep expecting something of myself come September: some new and exciting direction, some elaborate plan, some back-to-school nerves. But of course, I'm an adult, pretty much set in my routines and schedules, and August just means, well, the end of summer.
Two years ago in August I had the brilliant idea that I wanted to complete a triathlon. Amazingly, I achieved the goal in less than a year, despite having to learn how to swim. Two summers later, I love swimming.
July was all about swimming. I'm hoping to continue swimming at least a few times this week, in the outdoor pool, and lots next week, in a lake (which is a very different experience). Because it doesn't involve the same pounding that running does, I can do it every day. I'm not so sure about running every day.
But I discovered something, reading about those Olympic marathoners and 5,000/10,000 metre specialists: they run not just every day, but three times a day. Yipes. I'll bet that would make me faster ... or injure me in the process. And I can't possibly devote that kind of time to the pursuit of speed, not at this late date in my athletic life. I'm not exactly in my prime anymore.
This past week, my goal was to run every other day. I started last Saturday with the 35 minute treadmill run. Monday I ran 10km in a respectable 52 minutes (respectable, but not especially fast for me.) Then I ran Tuesday (oops), 5km, brutal. I'd just eaten supper, and thought I was going to throw up. Not pretty. Not fast either. Got up the next morning, Wednesday, and ran 9km with my friend (we always go slowly, for which I was truly grateful). A few hours later, I swam 1600m at the pool, and felt terrific, not at all tired and achy, which surprised me. Bouyancy, I guess. Then I subbed in my spin/kettlebell class on Thursday, ran out of time to squeeze in a run on Friday, and instead got up early on Saturday and ran 16km. I didn't even let myself think about it in advance, just got up, put on running clothes, ate banana, took a drink along, and went out. I told my husband I'd be going 10-12km, because that was all I could bear to think of running myself.
And then I got going. And then 16km seemed pretty manageable. In fact, I was quite sure I could have run a half-marathon distance without harming myself. That said, the pounding on my joints feels greater, lately, than I remember it feeling last summer when I was training for distance, and I wonder: is it age? Is it just that I've forgotten how the pounding feels? Is it having been injured? I wonder whether I read my body's signals differently post-injury. A bit of fear added in, somehow.
In any case, I was thrilled to have gone 16km. And I played my soccer game yesterday without ill effect. I didn't fatigued or worn out in the least.
Soccer has changed my training, a bit. I've been hesitant to do long runs the day before a soccer game (which is a long run in and of itself -- 90 minutes of interval training, essentially, tons of sprints, and movement up and down the field). But on Saturday I decided just to train for today, not worry about tomorrow. I need to maintain that mentality and get out for more long runs. I think if I can get a couple around 20km, and continue running at least five times a week, I'll be able to complete the Run for the Toad at the end of September. The only issue will be me giving myself permission to complete it in a slower time than last year's. There is no way I can duplicate the kind of training I'd done going into last year's race, mainly because I lost out on the winter training due to the hip injury, and I can't pretend it's there to back me up. I also haven't raced all season.
But if I can accept running the Toad at least 15 minutes slower this year, I should be physically able to complete it. Here's hoping I can show up mentally. And enjoy it for what it is.
Today's plan: a short run after supper. Or a hot yoga class to stretch out. I'm missing that too, in my training. It might be more beneficial than a run, today, frankly.
Two years ago in August I had the brilliant idea that I wanted to complete a triathlon. Amazingly, I achieved the goal in less than a year, despite having to learn how to swim. Two summers later, I love swimming.
July was all about swimming. I'm hoping to continue swimming at least a few times this week, in the outdoor pool, and lots next week, in a lake (which is a very different experience). Because it doesn't involve the same pounding that running does, I can do it every day. I'm not so sure about running every day.
But I discovered something, reading about those Olympic marathoners and 5,000/10,000 metre specialists: they run not just every day, but three times a day. Yipes. I'll bet that would make me faster ... or injure me in the process. And I can't possibly devote that kind of time to the pursuit of speed, not at this late date in my athletic life. I'm not exactly in my prime anymore.
This past week, my goal was to run every other day. I started last Saturday with the 35 minute treadmill run. Monday I ran 10km in a respectable 52 minutes (respectable, but not especially fast for me.) Then I ran Tuesday (oops), 5km, brutal. I'd just eaten supper, and thought I was going to throw up. Not pretty. Not fast either. Got up the next morning, Wednesday, and ran 9km with my friend (we always go slowly, for which I was truly grateful). A few hours later, I swam 1600m at the pool, and felt terrific, not at all tired and achy, which surprised me. Bouyancy, I guess. Then I subbed in my spin/kettlebell class on Thursday, ran out of time to squeeze in a run on Friday, and instead got up early on Saturday and ran 16km. I didn't even let myself think about it in advance, just got up, put on running clothes, ate banana, took a drink along, and went out. I told my husband I'd be going 10-12km, because that was all I could bear to think of running myself.
And then I got going. And then 16km seemed pretty manageable. In fact, I was quite sure I could have run a half-marathon distance without harming myself. That said, the pounding on my joints feels greater, lately, than I remember it feeling last summer when I was training for distance, and I wonder: is it age? Is it just that I've forgotten how the pounding feels? Is it having been injured? I wonder whether I read my body's signals differently post-injury. A bit of fear added in, somehow.
In any case, I was thrilled to have gone 16km. And I played my soccer game yesterday without ill effect. I didn't fatigued or worn out in the least.
Soccer has changed my training, a bit. I've been hesitant to do long runs the day before a soccer game (which is a long run in and of itself -- 90 minutes of interval training, essentially, tons of sprints, and movement up and down the field). But on Saturday I decided just to train for today, not worry about tomorrow. I need to maintain that mentality and get out for more long runs. I think if I can get a couple around 20km, and continue running at least five times a week, I'll be able to complete the Run for the Toad at the end of September. The only issue will be me giving myself permission to complete it in a slower time than last year's. There is no way I can duplicate the kind of training I'd done going into last year's race, mainly because I lost out on the winter training due to the hip injury, and I can't pretend it's there to back me up. I also haven't raced all season.
But if I can accept running the Toad at least 15 minutes slower this year, I should be physically able to complete it. Here's hoping I can show up mentally. And enjoy it for what it is.
Today's plan: a short run after supper. Or a hot yoga class to stretch out. I'm missing that too, in my training. It might be more beneficial than a run, today, frankly.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Ego boost and ego bust
I had a never-before-experienced moment on Saturday evening. We were staying in a hotel for my daughter's soccer tournament. We'd spent the entire day waiting, pacing, watching, sitting beside soccer fields, ie. zero exercise. It was brutally hot anyway. I'd brought my running gear but decided to wait til the evening and run on a treadmill at the hotel.
I was the only person in the exercise room. I have no idea how far or fast I ran because it seemed to be in miles. All I know is that it felt fabulous to run off all that angst and anxiety and restlessness, and that I kept pushing the button to go faster. At the end I ran a few intervals, fast, then slow, then fast, then slow. I was pouring with sweat when I stepped off the machine.
I walked to the elevator with another woman and her two children, who were coming from the pool. She said, "You look like you've come from a sauna."
"Nope. Just went for a fast run," I told her. I was feeling a little self-conscious, as I always do when I'm pouring sweat in my exercise clothes. (This situation happens to me often at soccer practice, and I always take care to stand a small distance away from other parents, because, frankly, what I need is a shower.)
On the elevator, she said, "Do you run a lot then?"
"Yes," I said. "I swim too." I almost added "and I swing weights around once a week, and sometimes do spin class," but I didn't want to sound like an exercise maniac.
"That must be how you got this fabulous body," she said. "You have a fabulous body!"
The women's heptathlon went on Saturday. Now those women--they have fabulous bodies. I would trade bodies with them. Who wouldn't want Jessica Zelinka's abs? But I must say that it was quite an ego boost. Out of the blue, being complimented on my body, which is not a fashion model body by any means -- it's strong and muscular. That was quite the ego boost.
In the ego busting section, despite having worked my body into what looks like its athletic prime, I can't seem to run any faster. Why??? I'm working so hard! Sometimes I think my body is a bit of a fake-out for anyone looking on. I look faster and stronger than I actually am. Here's the thing. I didn't start this project to look fabulous. I started it to become an athlete. That's still my goal.
After the success of the swimming experiment, I've decided to start laying on some miles. I plan to run every other day for the next couple of weeks, in hopes that it boosts my fitness in that regard. Otherwise, I can write off the chance to run that 25km trail run in less than eight weeks ...
I was the only person in the exercise room. I have no idea how far or fast I ran because it seemed to be in miles. All I know is that it felt fabulous to run off all that angst and anxiety and restlessness, and that I kept pushing the button to go faster. At the end I ran a few intervals, fast, then slow, then fast, then slow. I was pouring with sweat when I stepped off the machine.
I walked to the elevator with another woman and her two children, who were coming from the pool. She said, "You look like you've come from a sauna."
"Nope. Just went for a fast run," I told her. I was feeling a little self-conscious, as I always do when I'm pouring sweat in my exercise clothes. (This situation happens to me often at soccer practice, and I always take care to stand a small distance away from other parents, because, frankly, what I need is a shower.)
On the elevator, she said, "Do you run a lot then?"
"Yes," I said. "I swim too." I almost added "and I swing weights around once a week, and sometimes do spin class," but I didn't want to sound like an exercise maniac.
"That must be how you got this fabulous body," she said. "You have a fabulous body!"
The women's heptathlon went on Saturday. Now those women--they have fabulous bodies. I would trade bodies with them. Who wouldn't want Jessica Zelinka's abs? But I must say that it was quite an ego boost. Out of the blue, being complimented on my body, which is not a fashion model body by any means -- it's strong and muscular. That was quite the ego boost.
In the ego busting section, despite having worked my body into what looks like its athletic prime, I can't seem to run any faster. Why??? I'm working so hard! Sometimes I think my body is a bit of a fake-out for anyone looking on. I look faster and stronger than I actually am. Here's the thing. I didn't start this project to look fabulous. I started it to become an athlete. That's still my goal.
After the success of the swimming experiment, I've decided to start laying on some miles. I plan to run every other day for the next couple of weeks, in hopes that it boosts my fitness in that regard. Otherwise, I can write off the chance to run that 25km trail run in less than eight weeks ...
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