Day 258: The Week After

It's been great.

I went to a lovely yang/ying yoga class on Sunday. Lots of long stretches which felt wonderful. My quads were definitely a bit sore, but only slightly more than usual. I have gotten used to doing a long run on Saturdays, but that was the furthest I've ever run, and at a faster pace than usual. I went swimming as usual on Monday, but chose not to run afterward. Instead, I stayed in the pool an extra ten minutes, and swam for about seventy minutes. It had been a week since my last swim, and I felt like I needed to get reacquainted. My goggles refused to cooperate--something that hasn't happened in many weeks--and they kept leaking and were foggy by the end. And my body felt more fatigued than usual. To be expected. But water is soothing, even chlorinated pool water, and my legs enjoyed the sensation of being submerged in that gentle element. One change that's happened gradually, but is significant: I no longer fear drowning or think of drowning while in the water. (I realize drowning can happen to even the most experienced swimmer, if the conditions strike; that's not what I'm talking about). I used to spend the first half hour of every swimming session fighting past words like "watery grave" or just fighting past a sensation of fear, almost panic, that came when my head went under the water. Pleasant, huh. That sensation doesn't rise in me anymore. I experience the water, and being underwater, as a soothing, calming, sometimes exciting place to be. Water fills my ears and closes me off from the outside world. It's a good place to go deep inside.

I swam slowly, but steadily. I decided to think of the swim as an endurance building swim, not a speed-building swim--much like a long slow run. And then I showered and came directly home, skipping my speed session at the track. I kind of missed it, but on the other hand, I didn't want to push it, and my legs were definitely still sore.

Spin class was weirdly easy yesterday. I don't know whether there's some post-race effect, a couple of days on, like a boost of energy and endurance, but I was full of energy yesterday. I napped as soon as I got home, then went on with a regular kid-day at home, but discovered I had plenty of energy to hit a yoga class in the late afternoon. The class was very very hot and people were complaining in the changeroom afterward, but the heat hadn't hit me at all. I'd felt strong and balanced the whole class. And my legs weren't achy anymore.

This morning's run was similar. Feeling strong. Feeling like I'd just hit my stride by about 7k, and could run and run and run, faster and faster. I love running. Man.

Here's what I've discovered about running: it's kind of like dessert, for me. All of the other training I've been doing, toward the triathlon, has made it possible to enjoy a luxurious and long dessert. I used to get intense knee pain if I ran more than a few kilometres a couple of times a week. The knee pain is gone, and I'm running further and more often than ever before. But in between, I'm building up all the other muscles that support the running muscles, and I'm building endurance. So, I think my pathway to being a runner is through a variety of exercise options: yoga, swimming, biking. I do these other things, and then every so often I get to run and run and run.

I outed myself, just a wee bit yesterday, as an aspiring triathlete. I asked the spin instructor if he could help me find a used triathlon bike. Here's hoping. I'd love to ride a bike that isn't a 16-year-old hand-me-down mountain bike (my current wheels).

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The race brought up some unexpected and deep emotions. It was inspiring. It was healing. It gave me a new perspective on myself. It brought up thoughts like: if I can imagine doing it, I can set myself on a path to be able to do it. This is going to sound like typical motivational gobbledeygook, but it made me ask: what are the barriers I've erected in my own mind that are preventing me from doing the things that I want to do--that are preventing me from even imagining and glimpsing the things that I want to do? It's too easy to say, oh, that would be hard, that would be impossible, I don't have the time.Yes, it's been hard to train myself into a different and more athletically capable body. But it hasn't been that hard. It certainly hasn't been impossible. The time is now.

My larger thoughts are still amorphous and vague. But my most concrete thought is this: I already have the skills to do great/good/helpful things. I don't need to retrain and gain a new skill set. I'm a writer. I'm a good writer. Being a writer is similar in a lot of ways to being a runner. It's an individual journey. But even the individual, within the larger collective of a race, or a running group, or a yoga class, has the opportunity to affect the larger community--either negatively, neutrally, or positively. Think of the good energy you can receive when you practice with a committed group of yogis. It is so much bigger and more inspiring than practicing on your own--but your own practice is important too, and you need to build it and strengthen it in order to give back to the others around you.

So. I'm thinking of my writing in those terms. I'm thinking: where can my writing be of use? Where can I find homes for it? How do I want to change the world? Small changes, big changes, radical changes, subtle changes? And how can I use what I've already got to push for those changes?

Hm, think I'll cross-post these musings my main blog.

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Meantime, here's what happened last week: one swim, one spin, two yoga classes, three runs (including the half).
This week's plan: two swims, one spin, four yoga classes, two runs (including a long run this weekend. Woot!).

Day 254: Half-Marathon

Yes!

I did it. You know, I'm not sure if there's a mental checklist I've been working from, some set of goals that has propelled me onward, but a year ago it never occurred to me that it would be possible to complete a half-marathon. Even a 10k race sounded ridiculously daunting. How could anyone run that far? The answer, I've learned, is patience and training. The training will get you there, and it won't seem all that far anymore.

I'd decided just before the race not to carry my own liquids, but grab the water on the way instead. That was a great way to go. I felt freed from the mental effort of reminding myself to drink, and made myself take a couple of sips at every water station. I sucked on a gummie, but only one, and it never really dissolved (could have used a little more sugar, I think; but it was fine, and I felt well-fuelled by my early breakfast).

Today was such a beautiful day. Sunshine, breeze, country roads, friendly volunteers, family to see me off at the start and cheer me at the finish. In between, the time passed so gently, so easily. I thought about very little. I thought about running. I kept my mind on my pace. At the beginning, it was difficult to force myself to stick to six minutes a kilometre, but I knew it was part of my plan, and that it would help later on. (Oh, and I found the watch yesterday at 4pm, just after it beeped on the hour). I continued to remind myself that I wanted to feel just as good at 17k as I was feeling at 7k. My plan was to go no more than 6 minutes/km for the first 10k, and then I would let myself speed up as long as it felt comfortable, with some willingness to head toward pain during the last 5k.

And that's what I did. I finished the first 10k in 55 minutes, which thrilled me completely. I was still feeling easy and light. But I realized upon turning around (it was an out and back race) that the wind had been on my side all the way, and that on the homeward journey it would be against me. Around 18k I began to feel fatigued. Not dreadfully fatigued, but I was noticing my breathing on the hills (and there were hills). But I also noticed how quickly I recovered going downhill again, so I knew that the pace was good, and that I could continue until the finish line if I was willing to put some guts into it. That was also the point when I realized that finishing in under two hours was within me, which made the mental work that much tougher. Man, I wanted to cross the line in under two hours (a goal that I had not set for myself until that moment of realization).

During the last 2k, I began to pass people (we were very spread out at that point), which gave me a mental boost. The last 1500m was uphill, and I felt sluggish, not filled with a burst of energy, but the sight of the finish line gave me that, and I crossed feeling and looking strong, utterly thrilled at my time, which was under two hours: 1:55. Far better than I'd hoped. Though I did run a Michael Ignatieff campaign: starting out with low expectations, and hoping to surprise myself. But even in my happiest fantasies I did not imagine getting across the finish line that fast. (Good luck, Mr. Ignatieff. I hope your campaign exceeds expectations just as much).

So there it is. A wave to my family. Guzzling water. Eating sandwiches. Revelling in the sunshine. Driving back home again. With visions of a marathon dancing in my head. Maybe that's on my mental checklist, too. Who knew? Next up: more training, and a quick 10k. Now I know I can complete it in under an hour. Of course, knowing that, I now want to complete it even more quickly. We shall see. There will be an endpoint to my ability to improve upon my times. But I won't dwell on that today. I'm enjoying the high.

Day 253: The Day Before

Tomorrow at this time, I will be running. "Settle in, 'cause you can do it." That's one of the sentences that streams through my head while I'm running. It has a beat to it. The other one is: "Steady on, 'cause you can do it." I don't know why I refer to myself in the second person, but that's what happens. Talking to myself.

The kids are home with me today. Yesterday, I got a chiropractic adjustment to help with a terrible neckache I'd developed this past week. I went to a yoga class on Wednesday and emerged with the clear understanding that I needed to take the next two days off: no running, no swimming, no yoga'ing, no nothing. Stretching fine. Sleeping excellent. I hope to be feeling good and restless by tomorrow morning, aching to go. I'm already feeling ever so slightly like that this morning, having missed my Friday swim. But my shoulder and neck need a rest, too.

But I still have to find a wristwatch for the race. I'd been using my eldest son's, but he took it somewhere and left it, and now we can only hear it beeping every hour on the hour--three quick beeps--but cannot for the life of us locate the darn thing. My husband had a watch, but it was out of batteries and he was unable to replace them. That watch is toast. I haven't had a watch since junior high. It's kind of a point of pride--I don't need a watch because I have an acutely accurate sense of time. But tomorrow, I need a watch. I know I will be distracted from my chosen pace, and it's really really important that I stick to it.

My goal for tomorrow is to complete the race in less than 2 hours and thirty minutes.

I still have to decide whether or not to drink a cup of coffee when I get up tomorrow morning. If it's early enough, I think I will. But I don't want to stop for bathroom breaks along the route. I also have a plan for the food I will eat, and what I will carry with me. I've decided to carry my own liquids, even though there will be four water stations along the way. I'd rather have it with me, and make my own decision about when to take a sip.

Okay, deep breath. Hopefully my next post will be all about how much fun it was. Hopefully.

Day 251: Achy

I pushed myself hard in yesterday's spin class, following the instructor's encouragement to "squeeze out every last drop." I was curious to see: how many drops are left? Can I really force my legs to continue around and around at this manic pace for another minute, another, twenty-seven seconds, another five? I could. But I wasn't taking into consideration that it was about 7:15 in the morning when I stepped off the bike, and the whole day yet awaited. I needed a few more drops at my disposal.

At home, I put on a long video and slept soundly for ... this is shameful to confess ... over an hour. The kids interrupted only to have me open bananas for them. But I was still tired, and famished. I ate and ate and ate, and decided not to attempt the noon yoga class I'd planned. Too worn out. The whole day I felt tired, though I managed to get done what needed doing: craft with kids, trip to bank and library, after school snacks, making supper, cleaning up from supper, laundry. I was sound asleep by 9:30.

This morning's early run was very pleasant. I slept well, and felt rested on rising. We went for our usual 7.5km. I didn't have my usual pep, exactly, but I also felt capable of going longer, though I was getting hungry and thirsty by the end. Maybe I'm becoming accustomed to feeding myself on my runs. Maybe it's actually helping.

That will be my last run until Saturday morning.

I had an anxiety dream last night about the triathlon. In the dream, everything was too easy, too short--the swim, the bike ride--and I felt like I'd overtrained for no good reason. But I wasn't doing well even though it was easy, because the race also involved stopping at each transition point to do a scavenger hunt for items. I couldn't find anything on the list, so I fell behind. I was lapped by two children in grade three, and one of their mothers made fun of me. All that training, and the seven year olds were beating me. I tried to laugh it off and not be bothered, but I was; but in the end, the children and I became allies as searched together for scavenger items and got lost in a dark and slightly sinister maze, and the dream became about me watching over them and helping them. I never finished the race.

I am achy. I have yet to make a yoga class this week, and would like to stretch it out. I am also seeing my chiro tomorrow to try to rectify this neck-ache which seems to be getting worse not better. But I am trying not to think too much about Saturday. I'll just show up and do it. Gah. Must keep expectations low. After all, as long as I finish the race, I'll have run my personal best time for the half-marathon.

If you'd like to sponsor me, here's the link: http://www.mardenmarathon.com/default.html

Day 249: Comparisons Bad

I recently read a very good book by a favourite author of mine: Run, by Ann Patchett. One of the characters is a natural-born runner, her talent beautifully described in a passage where she is running on a track (she is only eleven), so fluidly, so strongly, so effortlessly that everyone stops what they are doing to watch, in awe. I don't run like that, but I see that image as my ideal when I'm running at the freezing indoor track above the ice rink. I've always loved watching runners in races. There is a great deal of tactical and mental skill involved, especially as the distances grow longer--success becomes less about raw power, and more about mental toughness. Today, I ran faster than I've run before; not easily, though. It took effort. Today, I ran 5k in 23 minutes, which is about 4:40 a kilometre--much faster than I usually run (though I realize that is still not terribly fast compared to many). It occurred to me, while running, that those elite athletes must know to the second how hard they can push themselves, and what kind of pace they can endure over particular distances. But in a race, they have to run not only their own race, but the other athletes' races, too. If someone is pushing the pace faster than you'd planned to run, what's the strategy? Hang back and hope the pace grinds the leader down and you can steadily catch back up again? Or change your own pace to match?

What threw me, today, both in the pool and out, were other people. In the pool, I swim virtually every time with the same woman, and we are relatively well-matched. She is faster than me, but not too much faster, and I move aside at the ends when she needs to pass. It's quite peaceful and doesn't tax my mind. But about halfway through our swim today, another man joined our lane. He was slower than me, but more aggressive, and he threw up big waves. All of which I should probably appreciate, as it might give me a slightly more realistic idea of what it will be like to swim with a whole lot of other people in a triathlon situation. But it threw me off more than I would have liked. I felt myself becoming competitive, and paying less attention to my own pace, and more to his. The swim was less fun, too. The friendliness wasn't there. Comparative swimming is not much fun.

I went 50 minutes, then showered, and headed for the track.

At the track, I've gotten to recognize the regular Monday morning runners, and I was hoping that one in particular wouldn't be there--but he was. If this fellow is your friend or family member, or you, I apologize in advance for criticizing his technique, which is really none of my business, but he runs in a very eccentric manner, with his elbows high and out, like little wings, absolutely flailing back and forth, and he runs surprisingly quickly; and he blows his nose on the track, too. Sorry. I had to get that out of my system. Anyway, there he was, storming his way around the track, so I resolved that he wouldn't pass me more than once. (I tellya, he's surprisingly fast). I planned to run 5k at the usual track pace--5 minutes/km. But there was something about running with this guy on the track--it made me want to go faster, so he couldn't pass me. I knew I was pushing my pace, and I knew I was suffering, but I didn't care. I just wanted to beat this guy. (I didn't; but I almost kept up with him).

Again, it wasn't much fun--at least not during the run. (Afterward I felt pretty high, having run faster than I knew I could). Somehow I have to train myself to stay focused on my own pace, regardless of what's going on around me. On the one hand, I can see how competition and comparison can actually spur a person on to greater achievement; there's no way I would have pushed myself that hard under ordinary circumstances. On the other hand, I'd like to have a less comparative mental strategy, long-term and situationally, to get me through the work-outs and through the day. I am (confession) a very competitive person, and I tend to play that down, suppress it, or avoid situations where it might flare up (like board games--do not ask me to play board games!).

My question is: to thy own self be true? Or try to change thy own self? Refine thy true self is probably the answer.

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Last week's summing up: two swims, three runs, one spin, four yoga classes. Total kilometres run: 25.5. Total hours: 10 hours, 10 minutes. Give or take.

This week's plan: two swims, three runs (including the half-marathon on Saturday), one spin, three or four yoga classes.

Day 247: Adrenalin Junkie

I apologize in advance for subjecting you to the ravings of an adrenalin junkie, but today, that's exactly what I am. High on happy fleet vibes. The weekend no longer feels complete without a long run, though today's was a bit on the short side of long due to some slight tapering off in advance of the long long long run a week from today. I went 12k, and my feet felt like they had wings. In fact, I kicked the pace up quite a bit for the last half of the run, just to see what it would feel like, to test where the edge was, and it felt like flying. Due to fine spring weather, I changed my route and ran out toward the big sky, as one of my running friends calls it, out through the park and the campus, and included in the loop two big long hills, though the weird thing was that neither taxed me. I felt just as good at the top as at the bottom. Toward the end, the faster pace was beginning to eat away at my calm breath, but it's not the pace I envision taking into the half-marathon on Saturday. I'll go a good deal slower, and speed up the last 5k or so if I'm feeling good. However, that is how I'd like to run the 10k in May--as quickly as I comfortably can. Quick and light and easy.

When I was a child, pre-puberty, I loved to run. I ran pretty much anywhere and everywhere. Why walk, when you could run? I was fast and light on my feet, and it felt easy. I jogged regularly with my dad from the time I was about 7. As a teenager, I lost that fleet and light feeling, and now that I think of it, I also stopped running everywhere. My fitness inevitably dropped, and cross country meets were basically places where I would torture myself with high expectations backed up by limited preparation. Let's just say I was no track star. But I wasn't exactly trying that hard--except on race day.

I've been training and increasing my weekly and now daily exercise slowly over the past year and three months, and it's beginning to feel like I've arrived somewhere. My body is pared down; my endurance is steady. And who knows how much more progress there is to see or experience in this body, but I'm somewhere already, somewhere different, somewhere that takes me back to childhood and that ease of running. I start to run, and my face breaks into a grin. I trust my body to carry me. I trust my breath. I trust myself to speed up or slow down, to listen and respond to what my body can and can't do. It's pure joy out there.

Will I like running a race as much as I like just plain old running? If so, there may be more races in my future. If not, there will be as many more long weekend runs as my joints can carry me.

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I wrote awhile back about feeding myself properly during training, and I've discovered a fondness for protein bars (and, yes, they're sort of disgusting and totally against my principles). Which makes me think I should start making my own homemade versions. I've also discovered that I can and should be eating more, and more frequently, so I eat when I'm hungry, and drink a lot of water, and eat more again. Basically healthy choices: nuts, seeds, fruit, and carbs when nothing else will do. During longer runs, I carry a Gatorade-type drink and suck on these gummie bear things, which have a soothing effect, whether or not they actually give me much extra energy. I'm not having any anxiety over the hunger/feeding balance anymore.

Day 246: Time to Think

There is lots of time to think while swimming laps in the pool. And while running long distances. It is quiet and I am alone inside my head. I choose not to listen to music on my solitary runs, because there is enough outside noise and enough multitasking in the rest of my life.

But I often find myself thinking of, well, nothing. Of the activity itself. Of the breath. Or my thoughts gently drift.

I am trying to sort out how and where to focus my considerable energy. The triathlon project has given me direction, but it's also given me endurance and strength, and made me appreciate my own ability to pursue a goal requiring long-term commitment, some pain, and some sacrifice. I believe that I can achieve this goal, and my body is a changed place because of the work done, and continuing to be done. But my mind is changed, too.

I feel the pull of the long-term project. I just don't know where to spend my energies right now. I've completed the draft of my next book (fiction), which is with my editor. I am considering a variety of possibilities, but each one would require of me the kind of commitment I'm giving to the triathlon project; in other words, I could only do one of these things (in addition to the triathlon project, which I'm beginning to see as, potentially, a life-long lifestyle change. I may be getting up at 5:15 for the rest of my life and heading to the pool or the bike or the quiet streets, whether or not there is a triathlon to be raced at the end of it).

What's calling to me? I don't know yet.