tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-130819192024-03-07T20:52:51.264-06:00Chronicles of a Retired Suburban SkatemomMy kids used to play ice hockey and roller skate, so I spent an awful lot of time as a Suburban Skatemom.
But they're older now, and there's more to me than that.
I love to run, even though I'm not very good at it.
I love baseball and baseball players.
I'm a wife & mom, living a life full of laughter and friends. UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.comBlogger777125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-61620742246547933452014-04-27T22:04:00.001-06:002014-04-27T22:04:45.053-06:00So, about that...Yes, I know. I decided to drop down to the half for today's race, and I swore it wouldn't impact my miles, and then it did, but really, it wasn't the drop to the half that impacted it as much as the bicycle ride, which was awesome and fabulous and fun (did we talk about how I did not stop to take a photo of a longhorn steer in front of a pond and a barn, because BIG RING? If that doesn't tell you that I was having a blast on the bicycle, I don't know what does...) and windy and HARD and made my legs feel like jello the next day.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The crew after the Lancaster Rally. So much run riding with my new Bike Bestie Mary!</td></tr>
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My mileage has been limited the last few weeks, but I've stepped up the cross-training a little bit, and I really am excited to ride Reveille a lot more this summer. I have quite a few things on the calendar but this trip to OKC is always a highlight and something I look forward to each year. So... I was disappointed (to a degree) when storms rolled in this morning and we made the decision to DNS. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The skies about 15 minutes before the finish, before the last downpour of the day.</td></tr>
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I've run this race four times, twice doing the half and twice doing the full distance. I love the course, I love the friendliness and appreciation for the runners displayed by the community, and I love the beautifully poignant memorial honoring the victims of the attack. When I decided to drop to the half, Marci and I decided that we would also take a different approach to the weekend. We have always stayed at the same hotel, met the same group for pre-race dinner at Zio's, been good little runners and been in our beds by 8:30 or 9:00.<br />
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And our rewards on race day have been.... mixed. The first year, I nearly broke myself before the race even started. 2011, well, yeah, we all know that story... In 2012, Marci & Robert ran the full but the rest of us ran the half in possibly the most humid conditions I've every tolerated. Last year, we had pretty decent weather, but my training was lacking and the whole day was overshadowed by the emotions of the Boston attack. So this year, we took all the "usual" and "routine" and threw it out. Instead, we got another hotel room (thanks Hilton Honors points, for the free room) overlooking the minor league ballpark. We expressed our regrets to the OKC runner group who usually hosts us for dinner and instead decided to go to the game, and eat hot dogs and ice cream out of a plastic mini helmet. We stayed up late. We had already decided we were going to have fun on the course and take selfies at every mile and sing and high-five volunteers. We wanted to have fun.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I loves me some baseball. No matter the teams or level of play. PLAY BALL! </td></tr>
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So when we woke up and saw the radar, we were a little concerned. We were waiting for the elevator when we saw the first flashes of lightning. We got to the lobby and walked out and saw the rain. Marci went back up for the ponchos (7 of them.. never mind that there were only 4 of us...). And the lightning continued. She came back downstairs and I tried to hide my feelings on my face, but I knew at that minute that we were not going to run. Not again.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, Oklahoma. Why you gotta do me like this? </td></tr>
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There is a photograph of us huddled under the awning during the 30-minute rain delay from 2011. Four of us are frantically searching Marathon.com for another May race. Marci was sitting with a ghost-white face looking like she was about to be ill. We had ZERO business running that day. And when I tried to describe that day to non-runners after the fact, I got blank stares and disbelieving shakes of the head. It was impossible to relay to people why we started, and once we started, why we didn't stop. I do remember thinking that I would never do that again. I have nothing to prove. And I had promised my husband, once the initial warnings of severe weather had surfaced on Thursday and Friday, that I would do nothing stupid.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love these girls. Every day I know them is a blessing. </td></tr>
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I run because it's fun. I run because it's relaxing, and I enjoy the running community, and I love the friendships and relationships that have developed from my involvement in it. But at the end of the day, I am not a professional athlete. I am a recreational runner, and the idea of running through hazardous weather is not something that I need to do. We were delayed by nearly 2 hours. huddled in a parking garage with hundred of other runners. Our nutrition was shot to hell - I had eaten a small sweet potato with a couple of pats of butter at 5:30.<br />
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I am looking at a 2:45 finish time with my current training levels on a perfect day in perfect conditions. With the emotional trauma of the flashbacks, and the delay, and the uncertainty of the weather and course in the next few hours, who knows what we might have been looking at. So we made the decision formally that I honestly think I had made when we stepped outside the hotel.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging out with a few hundred of my closest friends in the parking garage... </td></tr>
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We didn't know at the time whether there would be more storms, but we weren't taking that chance. Ended up, the day cleared up beautifully, but heat and humidity came out in force as soon as the sun came out. There were plenty of chances to reconsider our choice, especially as we walked back to the hotel and had to cross the route, with all the runners headed up the first overpass heading north on the route. The rain had stopped by then. But the beauty of the confidence and self-assurance that I have in my life right now, coupled with the support system that I have built, is that I don't have to second-guess my decision. I will not rationalize or try to explain my decision. I don't need to verbalize excuses. I made a call and I stand by it.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As we walked to our hotel, we saw the runners heading up the overpass. We prayed they would stay dry.</td></tr>
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I had a great weekend. I got to chat with Marci for 6 hours and catch up on all manner of things that we hadn't had a chance to chat about lately - work, family, goals, silliness. I had a fun lunch with some of my favorite people and saw some of my OK runner friends. I saw a fun AAA baseball game with my dear friend. I got to give Mark his pre-race knockout punch! This weekend was not for nothing.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of my favoritest people on the planet. </td></tr>
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Right as the first rain delay was announced, as we were making our way toward the corrals, we stopped at the Memorial. I needed a minute to go in and reflect on the reason for this race. That place is haunting to me, every time I see it, whether it is in full sunshine, rain, or in the pre-dawn hours, when the lights that illuminate the 168 chairs glow with their peaceful light. The attacks resonated with me 19 years ago, when I was pregnant with my firstborn. They still do. Every year on April 19 I think of the babies that were dropped off at their daycare and never got to be picked up. Every year on May 19, as my son grows and learns and matures into the fine adult person that he has become, I think about the babies those small chairs represent, and how they didn't get the chance to play hockey, or be in plays, or stay out too late, or move into their dorms for freshman year of college. And it rips my heart out.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Comfort, Strength, Peace, Hope and Serenity</td></tr>
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But the beauty of this race, of this city, is the perseverance, and the hope, and the healing. It draws me to the race, to that site, every year. And it always will. And after I visited the memorial, with the raindrops falling gently on the reflecting pool, I was okay with whatever happened that day. I didn't know, as I stood there between the 9:01 wall and the 9:03 wall, looking over the pool at the Survivor Tree, whether they would start the race or cancel it. And if they did start it, but I instead chose to opt out, then I was okay with it then too. I was okay with whatever we would do, or not do.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Survivor Tree </td></tr>
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I will be back next year. I'm not sure yet if I will attempt the full distance or if I will run the half. I don't know if the RedHawks will be in town and we'll get to see baby baseball players again. But I know that I will be back, and I will run this race again.<br />
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Huge congrats to all the runners who started and finished, who Ran to Remember. I did not run today, but I always remember. <br />
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UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-43488642791005780202014-04-10T21:14:00.000-06:002014-04-10T21:14:03.870-06:00Trails are the answer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
even on days when you don't really know the question... </div>
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Exciting developments and goals are brewing here. I'll be ready to share soon enough. For now, Texas, y'all.UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-82279806126382306922014-04-06T21:31:00.001-06:002014-04-06T21:31:54.491-06:00Little Dose of FIGJAMRun updates & OKC training summary will have to wait. Race day is 3 weeks out. Done a bit of adjustment to plans for the year. Made a few decisions about goals and such. But for now, know that I only ran 10 miles this week, and yet it was an incredibly fun, inspiring and rewarding week. <div><br></div><div>Because cowbell. And tacos. And FIGJAM. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlYdOsb8uydZplhyvbeEzjNb185ptY7ttzTYR1ATgI-6zFMXb5A3aRAzPlWYcTRirRbPeMFNmlwyJpGa5ed4ZTFgFvfZe3sO4DuKSmrs9bMluudDaS2tQZ-aYeFp12VWq55yPHEw/s640/blogger-image-1397378399.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlYdOsb8uydZplhyvbeEzjNb185ptY7ttzTYR1ATgI-6zFMXb5A3aRAzPlWYcTRirRbPeMFNmlwyJpGa5ed4ZTFgFvfZe3sO4DuKSmrs9bMluudDaS2tQZ-aYeFp12VWq55yPHEw/s640/blogger-image-1397378399.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEu1gcp8USl6IYn6YTqRSXciaRhZhhy4AS16dgzRBmdHLE0tfjtPyvQDog8oFmQAL8mFeprrFIMbyf6Y8sHvFdd0mGEUYjAnB1VIGuW52SJbOEFtl3XG2QLzik0iy_9S8SWFuEtw/s640/blogger-image-981017047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEu1gcp8USl6IYn6YTqRSXciaRhZhhy4AS16dgzRBmdHLE0tfjtPyvQDog8oFmQAL8mFeprrFIMbyf6Y8sHvFdd0mGEUYjAnB1VIGuW52SJbOEFtl3XG2QLzik0iy_9S8SWFuEtw/s640/blogger-image-981017047.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtgosdmiYWqbBJpPgx067KSWnRwQ_UJZUnbNb_ugAjAsw0Ueuj6UiZc06IWhllmJN6EXivqBofhZjXihorMYazDzV8wSvnEPaw1bZx1YTUOoS2TOlC83iOceg6LeqUMRy04ljtMg/s640/blogger-image-1056053397.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtgosdmiYWqbBJpPgx067KSWnRwQ_UJZUnbNb_ugAjAsw0Ueuj6UiZc06IWhllmJN6EXivqBofhZjXihorMYazDzV8wSvnEPaw1bZx1YTUOoS2TOlC83iOceg6LeqUMRy04ljtMg/s640/blogger-image-1056053397.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHPLeITFunet4yIBOx9RWcgoGVnEBH-AIyU5utcXho3JcFWYmaBtXOIEX2d9bXkclwQXNd2mLGSl8hjR6uJUUh5wZWCMLtHJgsE0P7eoCSDQupQ4YqNHIl65KkT6-yLEFQX8ihPA/s640/blogger-image--1921042734.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHPLeITFunet4yIBOx9RWcgoGVnEBH-AIyU5utcXho3JcFWYmaBtXOIEX2d9bXkclwQXNd2mLGSl8hjR6uJUUh5wZWCMLtHJgsE0P7eoCSDQupQ4YqNHIl65KkT6-yLEFQX8ihPA/s640/blogger-image--1921042734.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I have awesome friends. We have the MOST fun. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">That is all. </div><br></div><br></div>UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-47044590741178204472014-03-24T09:43:00.001-06:002014-03-24T21:08:25.092-06:00Week Six: Staying on TrackI have been bound and determined that the drop-down to the Half distance at my goal race will not derail my training. I will not allow myself to skimp on my training even though I am not running the full 26.2. I will respect the distance and the course at OKC, and I will do all that I can to prepare as best I can for this race. It's not JUST a half. I want to really show what I can do on that day and I want to be able to rely on my training and preparation to give me a strong performance on race day.<br>
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After my decision to cut back, I went to my training plan and re-evaluated it and made the appropriate revisions. I was using a hybrid of Hal Higdon's novice marathon plan, with the intention that I was treating this as a "first-time" since it had been so long since I ran a full. The basics behind that include 3-5 mile runs bookending a mid-week mid-distance run that is half the length of the long run that week, and 3-4 miles on Saturdays. I don't have any prescribed paces to hit, as the focus is just on getting the miles done. Plan the work, work the plan. In actuality, I usually end up cutting one of the shorter runs each week, just depending on my schedule, how I feel after the long run, and what the lovely Texas weather decides to throw at us that week. While I am committed to sticking to the plan as much as possible, I also am committed to having as robust of a life at the same time, which means I will not break my back at the expense of the plan. This is a part of me, not all of me. There are some weeks that I need a longer recovery, some weeks that it just doesn't happen. And that's okay. With this plan having me out 5 days a week, if I have to bail on a run, I make sure it's the shorter ones, and not the mid-week or the long run. Those two, in my experience, are the most valuable for me.<br>
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With that in mind, I didn't fret too much when I intentionally skipped my Tuesday run. I had meetings all afternoon at work that prevented me from running at lunch, and that night, I met my hubby for his birthday dinner at one of his favorite places. We have gotten much better at choosing our meals off the menu, making adjustments to the listed choices like double steamed veggies instead of rice, or asking the servers not to bring the tortilla chips so we aren't tempted. We had a great meal and a nice chat while the Nerdlet was at acting class. I did not regret skipping the run. Wednesday, I got out the door at lunch for 3 miles and then hit the Trinity Trail immediately after work for another 5 to give me 8 for the day. The highlight of this was making it all the way up the hill at Rogers street in one fell swoop, with no stopping and no walking. I had set this goal for myself a few weeks ago, and decided I wanted to be able to do this before OKC. I ran down the hill and then about a mile out and back onto the trail before I doubled back. Two undergrad girls were out running along the same route, and they started up the hill, across the street, at the same time. I took a deep breath in and just started churning up. I knew there was a little bit of a false landing about 2/3 of the way up, and that has been a convenient place for me to regroup a bit in the past. This day, for whatever reason, maybe because my legs felt good after the extra day of rest, I felt strong when I hit that point. And I decided that I could power through. It hurt. The breathing was harder than the climbing, though, and I re-focused my energy on just BREATHING. I told myself my body would do what I asked it to if I just gave it a little more oxygen. I set my legs to match my breath and dug in and just climbed. And before I knew it, I was at the top of the hill. Boom. Was it a fast run? Um... no. Was it slightly more than a power-walk, really? Maybe, but at no point in that climb did my MIND give in and say, "okay, you're MOSTLY up, you can dial it back a notch now...' That is the victory I had that day. I might have done a little dance at the top, and it really made my day when the girl behind me yelled, "Great job" as she stood there with her hands on her knees trying to catch her breath. BOO YAH!<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBrBcSC0bWM7it_ZnhUPpruQsdsV8uJRNNBO_vFlPIo0bcZyNW3wbXzrXa5c8gIpL7SQGB6csnORz6ipHenGKoin41wy3UDXogB5qG8RCV2GsyKLfpqv3A1HHsdbgZVLBBqA9ipw/s640/blogger-image-876290960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBrBcSC0bWM7it_ZnhUPpruQsdsV8uJRNNBO_vFlPIo0bcZyNW3wbXzrXa5c8gIpL7SQGB6csnORz6ipHenGKoin41wy3UDXogB5qG8RCV2GsyKLfpqv3A1HHsdbgZVLBBqA9ipw/s640/blogger-image-876290960.jpg"></a></div></div><div>
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My overall paces for that route were a few seconds faster than the last time I ran it, which I am sure is due to my effort on the hill. In general, I'm very slowly (see what I did there?) ooching my paces a little faster with each run. I'm still a long ways off, but now that I am not focusing on adding distance, I can start to think about what I can do to get that speed back over the summer. Maybe that won't be possible with the impending heat, but any gains I make during the dog days of a Texas summer will definitely pay off in the fall. And I'm willing to wait. I'm ready to experiment some with this delayed gratification thing. It's not something I do well. I'm by nature very impatient and demanding. But, I know I didn't fall out of my 9:30/mile pace overnight, so I know there will be a long road back to that. <br>
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I wrapped up this week with a solo long run at the lake on Saturday morning, then cheered myself silly at the Dallas Rock'n'Roll half with some of my favoritest people, watching some of our other favoritest people run. I had hoped to run long on Saturday, then head out to LBJ Grasslands to see my sweet friend Alicia make her dreams come true, but for various reasons, some of my own making, some out of my control, I wasn't able to make that happen (sidebar: Go read her blog. Now. She's kinda awesome, and she had a full-out Bubble of Love thing going on. Sad to have missed it, but I know I'll have another chance to see her do something spectacular, because that's how she do.). In any case, I did eke out 4 miles at the park with the hubby on Saturday night, leaving me with 9-10 miles to do on Sunday. I decided to wake up really early and take advantage of the drive to Dallas for cheer squad duty to run a loop around White Rock Lake.<br>
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It's been months since I've been out there for a run, and I think I've only every run out there by myself once. Usually, I have at least one other person out there to meet up for the loop (or longer). That lake is the scene of oh-so-many vignettes from my past running life: great deep conversations, memorable races, LOTS of laughter, and true friendships were born on those paths. It's a testament to how strong these memories are that for the whole 9 plus miles, I never once felt alone. Even in the dark on the first 1/3 of the loop, as I crossed the Mike Moore bridge, the boats, the Stone Tables. Every landmark brought back memories flooding into my brain. There's where we had the Autism satellite run. There's where we parked for that first 18-miler when Marci and Kris and Mel were training for Chicago. There's where Fi urged me to attack that hill instead of walking. This is the spot where Mellew ran out of water. There's the bridge. Another bridge. HOW MANY BRIDGES? And that time that I dragged Fi and Marci around the lake for Hottest Half, and they pushed me and pulled me and sometimes let me fall back or ahead by myself, to work through what I needed to work through, but were always there for me. How many people do you run into out there, getting their miles in, going in the opposite direction, or sometimes passing you, but all of you sharing the camaraderie of the lake? </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE8OZdrYZUbII4icZy3fni7kRZyhQBAxQXbN5ZiihmFHHlGLVy1ViTdGaRCoY0Hvmq5kAVKeB9d8rwVzlLAz2GiSpifHhRWpnTPsODj2ZGlKyEkola28bQMpkpq0w79rIN9y-p-w/s640/blogger-image--1191006060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE8OZdrYZUbII4icZy3fni7kRZyhQBAxQXbN5ZiihmFHHlGLVy1ViTdGaRCoY0Hvmq5kAVKeB9d8rwVzlLAz2GiSpifHhRWpnTPsODj2ZGlKyEkola28bQMpkpq0w79rIN9y-p-w/s640/blogger-image--1191006060.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWC_E5mrviZA0jmjRkzGbxr9bQF0KpBVTEYrRuplzUS47_p0NFvuRY169WozYU0l4YcjUCzF3eBSs6G9SzdCnEMh0yJD6DCPikg2W2vIakzZM39-hyPcRFsYvPcJk0GzSL04rU1g/s640/blogger-image-748072533.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWC_E5mrviZA0jmjRkzGbxr9bQF0KpBVTEYrRuplzUS47_p0NFvuRY169WozYU0l4YcjUCzF3eBSs6G9SzdCnEMh0yJD6DCPikg2W2vIakzZM39-hyPcRFsYvPcJk0GzSL04rU1g/s640/blogger-image-748072533.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4preu6kH86D8ktR324mt7YDzJ4Vrs84rwqKU1JuC_rZhwbuEphziGgWnZv8n0QsLIo2GKIlrLrpGwWwIwBFOg4ifmyqQLMN33GK16XuqIYwaERT6PNt9gplQBs5lEeZCehjrwyw/s640/blogger-image-314667534.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4preu6kH86D8ktR324mt7YDzJ4Vrs84rwqKU1JuC_rZhwbuEphziGgWnZv8n0QsLIo2GKIlrLrpGwWwIwBFOg4ifmyqQLMN33GK16XuqIYwaERT6PNt9gplQBs5lEeZCehjrwyw/s640/blogger-image-314667534.jpg"></a></div></div></div><div><br></div><div>Suffice it to say that while I was out there on the lake by myself, I had all kinds of company on my run. And, yes, I very often laughed out loud to myself. In any case, I ran strong all throughout, even though I spent the last four miles heading directly into the wind. I fueled with bulletproof coffee I drank on the drive in, and only at about mile 9, when I was about a quarter-mile from the car, did I feel the first twinge of hunger. My legs were strong throughout. And I had zero stomach issues. So WIN!<br>
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As soon as I got done running, I headed back to the race course and parked the car just across the street from designated cheer central. TPG and her boyfrann Robert were already there, fully prepared with cowbells, wiener costume and a great sign for Robert's sister. I froggered across the street and joined in. Soon enough, we had Katie, Team K and, for a bit, sweet half-of-LIAR Teal with us. We brought the noise, y'all. Ain't gonna lie - we put our cheer squad up against anyone for the sheer loudness and obnoxiousness. And that's just what we (okay, me, mostly me) are wearing! It was so fun to cheer the runners at the top of the hill. It was a little chilly still, and that wind was pretty rough, and they were rockstars to be out there running 13.1 in that. I kept thinking of the year I ran this race with my cousin, which had to have been the hottest March day in history. Not that I wanted mid-40s and windy, but Texas, y'all... You can't predict ball and you can't predict Texas weather!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2q6i_ohuoftXdSlcGoArGq0ZZvHdna1E8IYKUgbuACv_EJxsHHT5E3GI5VuLkcDkeZmtsJPVVPQ94JmZrMxoa3bl8h5UGXFLGNFzjzAqiCD9TCk2o2feP0oXGb1zSUAc3CifJrw/s640/blogger-image--2102668992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2q6i_ohuoftXdSlcGoArGq0ZZvHdna1E8IYKUgbuACv_EJxsHHT5E3GI5VuLkcDkeZmtsJPVVPQ94JmZrMxoa3bl8h5UGXFLGNFzjzAqiCD9TCk2o2feP0oXGb1zSUAc3CifJrw/s640/blogger-image--2102668992.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwvl1EkYSHHLjWVHJj_E2ex7cbqFmDVqpHTAyq7drahXFBgiHazKTLSZmPrZdmgkO8N277sbPhegOSVvAKyr86sVGpXtYnCkL2bI5o4kjpo4kxpuNDHTaYNuHjtP0dMonNWP0Jsg/s640/blogger-image--1514966130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwvl1EkYSHHLjWVHJj_E2ex7cbqFmDVqpHTAyq7drahXFBgiHazKTLSZmPrZdmgkO8N277sbPhegOSVvAKyr86sVGpXtYnCkL2bI5o4kjpo4kxpuNDHTaYNuHjtP0dMonNWP0Jsg/s640/blogger-image--1514966130.jpg"></a></div><br>
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All in all, I was pretty pleased with how this week went training-wise. I am even more pleased with how the week went regarding our nutrition plan. We celebrated a family birthday and I made it through a baby shower with PINK CUPCAKES and I didn't falter once. I even managed to skip the donuts brought into the office. It's becoming natural for us to eat this way, even out at happy hour & post-dinner yogurt with friends (Pinkberry has greek yogurt smoothies made with fruit and/or PB - you can ask them to skip the agave syrup and the berry puree with added sugar). I'm feeling good all around, except for my arms and wrists, which are experiencing Cowbell-Related-DOMS. Ah... such is the life of the FIGJAM cheer squad!<br>
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Week 6: 26.2 miles, including conquering the hill, weeknight run around the hood, park run with my sweet baboo and a solo run around White Rock.<br>
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</div>UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-21355126399568154592014-03-16T19:32:00.002-06:002014-03-16T19:32:14.360-06:00Week 8 & Week 7: AdaptingSo, let's start the catch-up with a Week 8 recap, shall we? A lot has happened since I ran that 15-miler two weeks ago, and it's all been adding up to a decision that I made today.<br />
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That 15-miler was an experiment, as it was the first day of a new eating plan that we are using, and I fueled that day on a cup of coffee and 2 tablespoons of grass-fed butter. That was it. That was all. Nothing more. It's called Bulletproof coffee, and it plays into a nutrition plan called No Sugar, No Grains. Essentially, the crux of this plan is to fight the insulin reactions in our bodies caused by high amount of sugar in the standard American diet by removing sugar and grains from our intake. By reducing the sugar as fuel, I'm forcing my body to become fat-adapted and better utilize fat as energy, both for general daily living and during endurance activity.<br />
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So for the past two weeks, we've been eating lots of real food, fresh food, and hardly anything pre-packaged or processed. I have struggled for years with my weight, as any of you who have followed me here will remember, and this plan has been very successful for several of my friends who have seen positive results, both in weight loss and in performance during endurance events. I knew that I couldn't continue to do the same things and expect different results, so I determined it was worth a shot to give this a try. With the support of my husband, we decided to try this as strictly as possible until Oklahoma City, and then evaluate and see what results we saw.<br />
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I thought I would be having a harder time adjusting to no sugar than my husband would, since I was/am truly addicted to sweets. I love my cookies, candy, chocolate, ice cream like nothing else. I have always had an irresistible sweet tooth. The hubby, on the other hand, prefers salty and savory snacks to anything sweet. He loves his chips, peanuts, jerky, things like that. But he also has a deadly Coke Zero addiction, plus as a Texan, an affinity for sweet iced tea. He moved away from using sugar because of the sheer amount of tea he goes through in a week, so instead has been using artificial sweeteners for years. What we have found is that I am barely missing my cookies and candy, but he is having a helluva time without his Coke Zero and sweet tea. He had serious withdrawals for the first week and only in the past week has started to feel better instead of worse. <br />
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I had a few hiccups getting used to the fueling for my runs. The bulletproof coffee worked great on my 15-miler. In fact, I ran for more than 3 hours without any other fuel, got home, drank some water, took a bath, piddled around the house and then at around 2 pm decided I should probably eat something. The coffee stuck with me that long. It was kind of shocking, especially for my first long run. I am used to running without fueling beforehand for shorter runs, so that took no adjustment. Even my longer midweek runs of 8 & 9 miles went off without a hitch with the new fueling.<br />
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Then came last week's planned 18-miler. I headed out on the first leg of 8 miles, heading south from the house, with the plan to stop at the house for more water and change directions for a 5-mile out-and-back to finish the planned mileage. This would be the longest run for me since my last 50k in November 2011. I had my bulletproof coffee while I planned out my route, then got dressed and headed out. My legs felt pretty good, despite 16 weekday miles. But two miles in, my mind just shut down. I couldn't wrap my head around spending the next 4 hours running through three towns. The Freshman was home for spring break, and while both boys were still snoozing when I left, I just felt like I wanted to be anywhere but on the road. I sucked it up and ended up with 6 miles for the day, most of it a slow walk. Again, the legs felt fine, but the mind was not in the game.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0SJoUiT8NRBAGYkToSXhT06JMFBE37i-MrfGROmk7nlmSV405QBbi2vSB0MY5zsiTzW66koG1kCC9QM3FxWwOiNZvcp1IIRmYSRn_v87l-AFv_qD7jiVTT1v_j7Di381LX3d0vQ/s640/blogger-image--648261352.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0SJoUiT8NRBAGYkToSXhT06JMFBE37i-MrfGROmk7nlmSV405QBbi2vSB0MY5zsiTzW66koG1kCC9QM3FxWwOiNZvcp1IIRmYSRn_v87l-AFv_qD7jiVTT1v_j7Di381LX3d0vQ/s400/blogger-image--648261352.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my "Not gonna happen" face. </td></tr>
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I had taken Monday off, to spend time with the kids, so I rationalized that I would try again that day. The time change completely derailed me, and I didn't get out the door until well past 9 AM. I had the coffee and butter again (three cups of coffee in 8 days - more coffee than I've had in the past 20 years!) and headed out, determined that I had to get these miles in. All was well until about mile 6, at which point my stomach decided that I would not be doing any more running that day. I managed to make it home at mile 8 and once I got settled a little bit, decided I would go ahead and try to run the other 10. I refilled my water bottle, grabbed some nuts and headed out the door, in the other direction. This time, I made it two miles out, to a nice little area at the trailhead. There are a couple of benches and a brand-new bridge. It was a beautiful morning. I checked in with my girls on our group chat, and with their encouragement, headed out further onto the trail. Without them, I would have just headed home after that little stop. But, even with them, I only could bring myself to run another half mile before I turned home. I ended up with 13 miles for the day. My rationale was that when I took Sunday and Monday mileage together, I had my 18 plus a bonus. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-NwfHMU-13VMomMzO_AEbKxXa5G-YTUIErC2o9vEqqieMgp8BKMXAV-ouf4vGPjWJ-UsVf9oAK1KfDHmGSEfCzhJQZ-zEjGOZOYb3TDN94mQdo4oHcbUcObyHf1bS7nAMj7iZw/s640/blogger-image-1843401382.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-NwfHMU-13VMomMzO_AEbKxXa5G-YTUIErC2o9vEqqieMgp8BKMXAV-ouf4vGPjWJ-UsVf9oAK1KfDHmGSEfCzhJQZ-zEjGOZOYb3TDN94mQdo4oHcbUcObyHf1bS7nAMj7iZw/s640/blogger-image-1843401382.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my "Can I be done now?" face. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-k-L1xGH_a_1A6GwtQSzzAqUqYfOccZwjwkpFsZD4gaxjx0yiXuW8n8KXwtJkGbw6SpYOtFuXu8H45rmvwv5oB1O20yHPLjDpAjq3UifmBLtt4_XMlwdYM72Z8Crs9_2p_EX-Ig/s640/blogger-image-1181788506.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have lovely views on my paved path. Thank you, City of Arlington!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-k-L1xGH_a_1A6GwtQSzzAqUqYfOccZwjwkpFsZD4gaxjx0yiXuW8n8KXwtJkGbw6SpYOtFuXu8H45rmvwv5oB1O20yHPLjDpAjq3UifmBLtt4_XMlwdYM72Z8Crs9_2p_EX-Ig/s640/blogger-image-1181788506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-k-L1xGH_a_1A6GwtQSzzAqUqYfOccZwjwkpFsZD4gaxjx0yiXuW8n8KXwtJkGbw6SpYOtFuXu8H45rmvwv5oB1O20yHPLjDpAjq3UifmBLtt4_XMlwdYM72Z8Crs9_2p_EX-Ig/s640/blogger-image-1181788506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
But I know that's not how it works. I know this. 6 + 13 does not equal 18. When I got home, I reviewed my training plan and found that I had a cutback of 13 miles scheduled for this week. I figured that I could switch out the weeks, taking the cutback a little earlier and give myself a little more recovery, and give myself one more chance to hit the 18 miles before ramping up to the first of 2 planned 20-milers. So that was the plan I went with all week.<br />
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As the week went by, I couldn't get the planned 18 miles out of my mind. My whole mantra this training cycle has been to get that day's miles done on that day. Don't worry about tomorrow's miles until tomorrow. Just plan the work and work the plan. But I couldn't follow my own advice. I fretted about it all week. I bailed on my midweek mid-distance run because not only was I tired from doubling up Sunday and Monday, but because I got in my own head. That whole "get out of my own way" thing? Yeah, I couldn't do that.<br />
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So this brings us to today. I woke up late, partly because of the stupid time change still and mostly because of the megadose of Benadryl I had to take last night. Texas weather is a bitch this time of the year, and this week it brought in crazy allergens that made me sneeze all day and filled my sinuses so much it hurt to touch my face. In any case, I woke up way later than planned to, but I got dressed, had my bulletproof coffee, and headed out. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Right before mile 6 today. Still all smiles. </td></tr>
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I felt good. Check that. I felt GREAT. Skipping a couple of the weekday runs meant my legs felt fresh and strong. I was moseying along just fine, hit the turnaround at mile 5 and stopped for a couple of photos. Just had to get home, refill the water bottle and head out in the other direction. All systems go. And then I hit mile 8. I realized that when I got home, I still had another 8 miles to go before I would be done. And on race day, I would have another 8 miles to go after that. And it suddenly dawned on me that I was tired. Not physically so much, but mentally tired. I didn't have the energy for another 8 miles. I thought about why I wanted to this full right now. I thought about why I needed to do this full right now. And the only thing I could think of was that I had committed to it. And suddenly, that wasn't enough. <br />
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At my current paces, I am looking at no faster than a 5:45 marathon on race day, and if I'm honest with myself, probably slower than that. I am still working through this nutrition plan. Training for a marathon is hard. This I know. Training for a marathon, and running a marathon, is hard enough when your heart is in it 100 percent. But when there is a doubt in your mind about the reasons for it, it ends up being a chore, not a labor of love.<br />
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Right now, I have a lot of irons in the fire that demand my attention, and I just don't have the energy required to dedicate to a full training cycle. The minute I decided that I didn't have anything to prove to anyone and allowed myself to think that I could drop to the half at OKC, I felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders. I cried about it a little, especially after talking to my Sister I Choose about it. But she and MK knew all the right things to say to me about this decision, and they were so fully supportive and encouraging, that I quickly knew that this is right call for me.<br />
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I still plan to stay on this eating plan through OKC before evaluating it and determining how feasible it is as a long-term solution for us. I still plan to run the half at OKC and hope to hit a course PR for the half there. It is one of my favorite courses, half or full, and it is always one of the highlights of my racing year. I have been working on hills in the neighborhood around work, and I plan to continue that, because hills make you STRONGAH.<br />
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I want to get back on Reveille, but with the full looming, I was looking at delaying that until after OKC, whereas now I can get my new pedals put on and do a little more riding this spring. I won't be dreading my long runs, but instead will look forward to them. The only reason I do this is because I love it. When it became a chore, it was time to re-evaluate. When I'm truly ready for a full again, if I ever am, I will know it. And there will always be races when that time comes. And if I'm not ever up to a full again, well that's okay, too. It doesn't make me any less of a runner. It doesn't make me less of a person.<br />
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So, there you go. I'm not just adapting my body to be more efficient, I'm adapting my mind as well. In the long run, this is all good.<br />
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Week 8: 22 miles, including the 6-mile "long" run and a 9-mile midweek run with two monster hills that kicked my azz but felt really good.<br />
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Week 7: 29 miles, including today's 10-miler and a Monday 13.</div>
UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-8178598666648308672014-03-12T11:15:00.002-06:002014-03-12T11:17:08.719-06:00Stay Tuned I owe you a Week 8 recap.<br />
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It's just that it's spring break and the boy is home.<br />
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And I'm on a deadline for a knitting project (please turn out like I hope!!).<br />
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And it's hard to blog when you're using both hands for knitting.<br />
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Meanwhile, here is a photo of a baseball player to tide you over.<br />
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OKAY, FINE, THAT WAS FOR ME, NOT YOU. STILL. I BELIEVE THE PROPER PHRASE HERE IS "THANK YOU!"<br />
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Also, did I mention the time change kicked me square in the azz? Even a day off on Monday didn't really help. Sheesh.<br />
<br />UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-25621640125591383662014-03-03T11:35:00.003-06:002014-03-03T11:35:58.538-06:00Week Nine: Not Made of SugarSo I'm in no danger of melting in the rain. Even if that rain is actually sleet. And snow. On Texas Independence Day. The day after it hits 82. Because Texas, y'all.<br />
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The Savant & I put off our run on Saturday until after 10, due to some crazy schedule mixup with Scouts. By the end of four tortuous (yet somehow fun) miles, we were both drenched & overheated. We ended up doing run-walk intervals & fun things like high knees & butt kicks to break up the slog. It just had gotten too hot too quickly. It was even too hot for the sunroof. Crazy. </div>
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Then today, we woke up to 33 degrees and quickly getting older. I layered up and hit the streets. By the time I hauled myself out of the house it was 28 and slightly misty, with the wind picking up. I'd wanted to do two long out-n-backs but that idea was squashed when I discovered the park fountains were turned off. Never mind that they were working yesterday; the threat of below-freezing temps meant Parks Dept workers had gone around & shut them all off. That led to me having to circle back to the house after 6 for water. </div>
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Right after I rehydrated and took time to slather lotion on my face to prevent windburn, the slight drizzle turned to sleet. We didn't get the thundersleet my neighbors to the north got, but it it was enough to make noise as it hit the ground & foliage. What to do? Take a break and wait for it to pass? Or "manlady" up & git er dun? </div>
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I'll end the suspense. </div>
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Boom. </div>
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Week 9: 32 total miles, including 15 mile long-run in mid-twenty degree temps, sleet and tiny little flurries of snow, 4 miles of intervals, an 8-mile weeknight run through the hood, and a day off to give blood. </div>
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Confidence is building, even if speed is not. </div>
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UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-61499710280689728362014-02-23T21:45:00.001-06:002014-02-23T21:52:09.515-06:00Week Ten: The Quality of the Miles<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">are often more important than the quantity. </span></div><div><br></div><div>And sometimes the quality has nothing to do with pace or distance. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1dYq1JaPwWF6ZTfj-gBS8SbOOIPs9wtyGD1kAQSnCZDeG0qfXhuvqFJHH3qrpSTC9SUhKIXRBxerb9IJdIZ8BjA-ZbNATfnYOtUF324PwohakwVhqQwN-qdz5lTh3sqUQdVcttA/s640/blogger-image-265250129.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1dYq1JaPwWF6ZTfj-gBS8SbOOIPs9wtyGD1kAQSnCZDeG0qfXhuvqFJHH3qrpSTC9SUhKIXRBxerb9IJdIZ8BjA-ZbNATfnYOtUF324PwohakwVhqQwN-qdz5lTh3sqUQdVcttA/s640/blogger-image-265250129.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMoaXrtyZFP1p5C7bNPigDZlPlJf-TiVrR5Spd-7_x-OSVnX3lWLocoJ0NRc3LUJO2RCOMN8gS5B1_mImyrTU8-YZ5R8wggvQgLrS_8nRieoROhJ12N1lTO1gwEY4RjIpd1KlknA/s640/blogger-image--650766056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU9xYo97h6Fn5N_EquHvjLB6Dpx4Xr46UaF8IVuYlvs3WnkiJIy_bslDKytFP963wBT_e9Rtv-GBO06OClKSOkOUXw3kgKxkXLjeWmoFsbD4ZlNOY8tSwXV9IiWtDRrlVt2jhWBA/s640/blogger-image-150451650.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvENxQa9D7ro09wubgzr8JFufEXkJ0aOV-9sU4gjp3zUMLnhWAggeKdlxGZq62Bcz9PcdzjsMMINO_HJrDccETnAErSDWDf6sHRzYuYuhTL6uQdKws28viylKLje82ZsORa9celw/s640/blogger-image-446371717.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvENxQa9D7ro09wubgzr8JFufEXkJ0aOV-9sU4gjp3zUMLnhWAggeKdlxGZq62Bcz9PcdzjsMMINO_HJrDccETnAErSDWDf6sHRzYuYuhTL6uQdKws28viylKLje82ZsORa9celw/s640/blogger-image-446371717.jpg"></a></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">After last week's tough long run and in preparation for Cowtown, I was glad to see I had scheduled a cutback week. I needed it and thanks to it, I felt strong and happy for today's miles, despite the heat. We ran slower than either of us planned, but we made the best of it, like we do. Some in our crew ran awesome PRs, others had a hard-fought day with results less ideal than hoped for, and others cheered and provided that key moral support. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And at the end of the day, we had fried bacon. Yes, there is such a thing, and yes, it tastes as good as you think. </div><br></div>Week 10: 18 miles, mostly walks and Cowtown. But I ran every step of that hill, so BOOM! </div>UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-8523818133058902952014-02-16T21:08:00.002-06:002014-02-16T21:20:51.113-06:00Week Eleven: Mind over MatterSome days, running is effortless and fun and rejuvenating. Like my Thursday night run this week. After a horrible couple of days of gloomy cold, fog and drizzle, the sun finally peeked through Wednesday afternoon, making for a great easy quick run around campus that evening. And the next day, I was nearly salivating by the time 5:00 PM rolled around on Thursday, with the anticipation of another run through Worth Hills, savoring the last of that day's bright sunshine. I had never been so excited about 8 miles during the week, not in recent memory at least. And it fulfilled its promise. I had a hilly course and a little stomach bubbling, but I felt strong and I ran happy. Maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophecy...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So many students enjoying the end of the day outside on campus. </td></tr>
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Last night, we went out to the Texas Motor Speedway and got chased by zombies. The "zombies" were scattered around the course and lurched toward you unexpectedly, but it was non-contact so it was just silly fun. There was a decent post-run party, and while the course measured short of an official 5k, it was a fun run where we ran against the clock to see who would survive the Zombie Apocalypse and who would succumb to the horde. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pre-race waiting for the Zombies! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We all survived! Take that, Zombies! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the zombies lurching around on the course. </td></tr>
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My sister-I-choose and Fred came out to cheer and have dinner with us after, so we ended the night with lots of laughs. And we got to see some cars zooming around the track while we ran under the tunnels off and back onto the infield, so that part was cool. I ran a lot faster than I intended to - I planned to take it somewhat easy, knowing I had a long run the next day, but I guess I got caught up in the fun and ended up averaging a lot faster than I have been running lately.<br />
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And that's where we pick up the story, this morning. It was nearly midnight by the time we got home after the race so I didn't set an alarm for my long run. I knew it would be warmer than it has been all week (THANKS TEXAS WEATHER, I HATE YOU!!) but I also knew I needed to sleep. Turns out I lingered in bed too long and hung out having breakfast with the Savant too long. By the time I got out, it was already humid and sticky. I overdressed, wearing a long-sleeved shirt that suddenly felt too tight and too suffocating after a couple of miles. I somehow ripped a hole in my shorts, so I could feel a hotspot starting to chafe on one thigh. I knew i needed to carry water, but the bottle was super heavy and clumsy and I nearly chucked it into the creek a couple of times. My mental state was dodgy from the beginning and went downhill really fast. Long story short, I salvaged 12 miles of my planned 15, but they were hard-fought, slow and very taxing mentally. I just could never get in a groove where I felt comfortable, much less hit that effortless state that I had on Thursday night. It was a struggle, and it took all the tools I had at my disposal (my power songs on my playlist, dial-a-friend text messages, and a helpful ride to the gym and an encouraging kick in the azz from my sweet baboo) to get those 12 done. It wasn't the 15 I wanted, but it was about eight more than what my mind wanted me to do.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxb8QWjfsA3XnC4PPfzHhb1QLlBbnrRUfekIWzFb10CGBfzZ3X-ya7IQRHwsMX96aTUBiDvJSHYwPprJktLNUBde8sttsRTdJlCAJ-eR9tLgweoKhiYOKZcKATtYFbHKYMrH3xpg/s640/blogger-image-1373559241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxb8QWjfsA3XnC4PPfzHhb1QLlBbnrRUfekIWzFb10CGBfzZ3X-ya7IQRHwsMX96aTUBiDvJSHYwPprJktLNUBde8sttsRTdJlCAJ-eR9tLgweoKhiYOKZcKATtYFbHKYMrH3xpg/s200/blogger-image-1373559241.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG1eSf938qN_bkPr7Qqs6RXtAnUR2Qgh9ypfA6y708PSYaCdxOeIexhDfok6l7ufodNDW_FB8WubFqhr18boSadlPM9hEjcJqafbXIJ7io46EbH4jMKb7uhyouxBa-VpFtmKwYPA/s640/blogger-image--1488870846.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG1eSf938qN_bkPr7Qqs6RXtAnUR2Qgh9ypfA6y708PSYaCdxOeIexhDfok6l7ufodNDW_FB8WubFqhr18boSadlPM9hEjcJqafbXIJ7io46EbH4jMKb7uhyouxBa-VpFtmKwYPA/s200/blogger-image--1488870846.jpg" width="150" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaQNj6nnEk3Mrr0fhFNMms2owyPvNKLMBAmCsSDp9DKtP0_GPsoo2rxUuq4gy4KPDRbOHl3A1R6v0ayC8hHWOC84jznro91Qt502TpSVMCABTPqFY9BMgZ2w6ghLoGN5ebk2U8Q/s640/blogger-image--682640515.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeaQNj6nnEk3Mrr0fhFNMms2owyPvNKLMBAmCsSDp9DKtP0_GPsoo2rxUuq4gy4KPDRbOHl3A1R6v0ayC8hHWOC84jznro91Qt502TpSVMCABTPqFY9BMgZ2w6ghLoGN5ebk2U8Q/s200/blogger-image--682640515.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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My mid-run selfies indicate my mindset. Yes, there was a full wardrobe change involved today... </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Classic case of FITYMI (Fake it til you make it): "YAY, RUNNING...." </td></tr>
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There's a lot of thoughts that run through your head when you are on a long run; you have lots of time to think. You have even more time to think when you are walking huge chunks of that long run. You think thoughts like "why am I doing this?" and "what am I trying to prove again?" and you risk spiraling down into a very Bad Place. And you think that even though you have run more than 10 marathons, and you remind yourself that you are treating this like it's your first one again, you really can't escape the knowledge that you have and the experience that you have from those marathons. You KNOW it's hard. You KNOW that 15 miles is a long way, and 20 is even longer, and 26 is even more, but it's that damn .2 that bites you hard. You KNOW that you can't control for certain things, like the weather... ahem. You know race day might be hot and humid, because the race gods don't care that hot and humid is your Kryptonite. Or it might be 30 degrees colder at mile 15 than at the start. Or it might even rain and hail and sleet on you. Anything can happen, and you can't control for some of those things.<br />
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But you also know that you CAN control for some things. You can control your nutrition and your hydration, especially in challenging conditions. You can control your attitude. You can choose to see the upside in the situation. I am not going to say I was 100 percent successful in all of this, but I salvaged more out of today than I would have before. I did question my sanity, and I can't lie, I questioned my decision to train for a full marathon again. But at the end of the hours it took me to cover 12 miles today, what wasn't up to question was my ability to fight back. I could have caved at four miles. But I didn't. Despite the overall pace, despite having to break up the run into 3 segments, I didn't cave. And I choose to see that upside in today's outing, instead of seeing the missing 3 miles. Because I know, after the races I've done and the marathons I've finished, and <b>mostly the ones that I haven't</b>, that the mental part of the training is just as critical as the physical part.<br />
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<b>Week 11</b>: 31 miles done. Included 2 hilly runs around campus after work, 1 extremely windy lunch run, the Zombie apocalypse and a 12-mile long "run."</div>
UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-61756535937765295892014-02-13T22:37:00.001-06:002014-02-13T22:37:11.223-06:008 miles Eight miles. On a weekday night. It's like I'm in marathon training or something...<br />
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I'm not getting faster, but the hills around campus are making me STRONGAH. I can tell.<br />
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I can do this. I've done it before. I can do it again. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWLlEozbh29Tjb91C9mBCezvlEuQjUA_fKH15WIAj3ORT7qvEtTmW8I02nNrM6VIb5cidsOxVMJPTlAyJYChxIz7HCS9YHLNvNlFdUA9zpKTrsbeitW0lCtTv_P48Wv1lXegIe4w/s1600/Marathon0054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWLlEozbh29Tjb91C9mBCezvlEuQjUA_fKH15WIAj3ORT7qvEtTmW8I02nNrM6VIb5cidsOxVMJPTlAyJYChxIz7HCS9YHLNvNlFdUA9zpKTrsbeitW0lCtTv_P48Wv1lXegIe4w/s1600/Marathon0054.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#TBT Dallas White Rock 2004. The boys, they're so little!!! </td></tr>
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10 years later, and I'm better than ever. I may not be faster, but I'm stronger, smarter, and I know what to expect, beginning to end.<br />
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I'm coming for you, OKC. </div>
UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-89923030585210288402014-02-09T22:40:00.001-06:002014-02-09T22:41:47.753-06:00Week 12 DONE: Will Run for ChocolateThis week's training featured cold and wind, an equipment brain blip & a great 15k, wrapped up with a foggy hike & failed picnic. <div><br></div><div>Tuesday night I had plans to conquer the hill near campus, despite chilly temps that lingered all day. By the time 5:00 pm rolled around, the sun had peeked out & although it was still cold, it was nearly perfect running weather. I changed clothes and reached into my bag for my shoes, only to realize I'd left them by the front door. Oh snap! I was frustrated at myself since I was missing out on the perfect weather. But I salvaged the day with a solid run once I got home. </div><div><br></div><div>Wednesday was colder & windier, and only got worse as the day progressed. My buddy and I both had outdoor evening runs on our schedules and we spent the afternoon trading text messages commiserating about our fate. But when push came to shove, it ended up being a great run, and I was glad to have braved the elements. <br><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX8hRuvZtz73zMofMaDEMAzkArn-TQOI2010yFPDAuwoztu2DFnqwQklHpnQ_Md_je-lOsyUbHI3fkti8we-sWfwMR1Uy0vjrJZ6ZlsKR7ovK3hp6iHo5qI0iHq3mFQR7Kc3FWcA/s640/blogger-image-591073069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX8hRuvZtz73zMofMaDEMAzkArn-TQOI2010yFPDAuwoztu2DFnqwQklHpnQ_Md_je-lOsyUbHI3fkti8we-sWfwMR1Uy0vjrJZ6ZlsKR7ovK3hp6iHo5qI0iHq3mFQR7Kc3FWcA/s640/blogger-image-591073069.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Thursday was even colder still (WHAT UP, TEXAS WEATHER!!) with snow flurries in the morning on my drive in. By the time I reached the office, the sidewalks were blanketed with beautiful puffy snow. SNOW! How exciting! Unless you had to drive in it... WHAT UP, TEXAS DRIVERS?!? But I made it to my volunteering gig in Dallas just fine, and picked up our packets for what's billed as "America's Sweetest Race," the Hot Chocolate 15k. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUHXLXWF9KT4TXT11V6eDVGKjpDD72zdjfOtzWxO1nxn_KVR3soyrT4HMsvNC7r5caFDNFplXtrCcYU2Ezdf_SQlMuSiwFzJq3tQ_fMo1ESSZco-cIsYYrIwaFXBHPQys2otGdeA/s640/blogger-image--1715447852.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUHXLXWF9KT4TXT11V6eDVGKjpDD72zdjfOtzWxO1nxn_KVR3soyrT4HMsvNC7r5caFDNFplXtrCcYU2Ezdf_SQlMuSiwFzJq3tQ_fMo1ESSZco-cIsYYrIwaFXBHPQys2otGdeA/s640/blogger-image--1715447852.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This is the 3rd year I've done this race, and it's become a tradition for me and my Sister I Choose, Marci. She ended up missing the race due to unforeseen circumstances, but I had company anyway, courtesy of my Okie friend Jedi Jen and my Sweet Baboo! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG0bgmSlo7Oa9D52mXyktiwDWnmpDXFXqiwxmSWbEHdALhxAdph-8Lca0m0ZsLQ62BD7Cha-vNu7FzdVQlg-jzQcySGj_06Bfiyrbqs8O84u1IIqYfpog7fakGYC-Wyg6u7zV5wg/s640/blogger-image--205828129.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG0bgmSlo7Oa9D52mXyktiwDWnmpDXFXqiwxmSWbEHdALhxAdph-8Lca0m0ZsLQ62BD7Cha-vNu7FzdVQlg-jzQcySGj_06Bfiyrbqs8O84u1IIqYfpog7fakGYC-Wyg6u7zV5wg/s640/blogger-image--205828129.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It was cold again, plus misty and just generally miserable if you were standing around pre-race. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">(Hey, Texas Weather: Go Home, you're drunk!!) </div><br></div><div>Jen found us pre-race and stuck with me for the whole 15k, putting up with my interval schedules, lending me her earbuds when mine suddenly died (at mile 2 no less!). Even when I made possibly the worst call ever in a race and took a shot of whiskey at mile 6, causing so much distress that I had to walk for the better part of 2 miles, she stayed at my side. I'm so grateful because having great company really makes the miles fly by. I would've been on my own without my partner in crime. Plus, we had some great conversation and I feel like I really got to know her better. Such fun!! </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrc2DG-RQiEiadJ9vFes4bMiikH3FRwlvfJFZkNJ45E3OkegImSMHfCDnyoxGZCpHruUkGe-QMYkqLmdr4xueaMqEpqINdWw3xERnIfS_kKrSrLwMFnM9FNHvaqekLrhrEXqaxaA/s640/blogger-image--1422362414.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrc2DG-RQiEiadJ9vFes4bMiikH3FRwlvfJFZkNJ45E3OkegImSMHfCDnyoxGZCpHruUkGe-QMYkqLmdr4xueaMqEpqINdWw3xERnIfS_kKrSrLwMFnM9FNHvaqekLrhrEXqaxaA/s640/blogger-image--1422362414.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>And of course, post-race we noshed on chocolate fondue and I was lucky enough to see both Elaine & DK, plus DK's daughter who had just run her longest race ever! I LOVE seeing friends at races! Makes a fun day even better. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8uUAtVAN-EwVNVPmEoYLIoZVtzl4Dp_y4VKGGwpPX7uafae_3tCe8fGWSs6JHEMlH4IWaE7ihaqY5w37ehUHg0Zp702nOxa8LS6AJMrGX3PEmysQi5GZ9XjQjrEQRa6JdAcbkg/s640/blogger-image-268921994.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8uUAtVAN-EwVNVPmEoYLIoZVtzl4Dp_y4VKGGwpPX7uafae_3tCe8fGWSs6JHEMlH4IWaE7ihaqY5w37ehUHg0Zp702nOxa8LS6AJMrGX3PEmysQi5GZ9XjQjrEQRa6JdAcbkg/s640/blogger-image-268921994.jpg"></a></div>Did I mention the chocolate??? Mmmm. </div><div><br></div><div>Sunday ended the week with a trail day, even though it wasn't as successful as our previous outings. The trail we chose was boring, with no view because of the fog. We tried another trail but it suddenly got really cold while we were having our picnic. It just wasn't as fun when we couldn't feel our fingers!! We got a few miles in though, so it wasn't a total bust. Plus we always have fun and laugh at wildly inappropriate things so it wasn't a bad day by any stretch. We ended up back at our friend's house with hot chocolate and the Olympics, too. Ended up being a nice little Sunday! </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyCdTwzJlk1DX_giaV6W6aCaxLQLse8zXUfARiz9sczU05Iqnv_IuwErm2d0I-BI9e1jO_3n-i3LRm918ef44GcMZFEL4bmBAHrAbtRGRZ4ryHZJ1kgxWg8DfT2KIVNiAc8pn2Wg/s640/blogger-image--2099860116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyCdTwzJlk1DX_giaV6W6aCaxLQLse8zXUfARiz9sczU05Iqnv_IuwErm2d0I-BI9e1jO_3n-i3LRm918ef44GcMZFEL4bmBAHrAbtRGRZ4ryHZJ1kgxWg8DfT2KIVNiAc8pn2Wg/s640/blogger-image--2099860116.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWQbhDtM1-RSQw7R2M6wOc7c6sXLparkxV7bJ9JLsLvKuoF_vTjraz7zl5sbBcNqcHCGDh2ThACbFc70KNBXOhwIYB4r_WB494bTpxAROqPoM7IgKo-ZGPlc175875UsdacWohCw/s640/blogger-image--836776167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWQbhDtM1-RSQw7R2M6wOc7c6sXLparkxV7bJ9JLsLvKuoF_vTjraz7zl5sbBcNqcHCGDh2ThACbFc70KNBXOhwIYB4r_WB494bTpxAROqPoM7IgKo-ZGPlc175875UsdacWohCw/s640/blogger-image--836776167.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>Week 12: 24.5 miles, including 7 midweek freezy miles, 15k race and chilly foggy trails! </div></div>UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-28404339208369858612014-02-02T22:49:00.000-06:002014-02-02T22:49:50.020-06:00Week 13 DONE: Back on TrackAn awful lot of thoughts run through your head when it's 33 degrees out and rainy, like whether you are crazier than the people who paid to run a race in this weather, because you're doing it for free, or whether you really are smarter because you didn't have to pay for the privilege of stepping in puddles of cold rain.<br />
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You think about how if not for the commitment to run a full marathon in 13 weeks you would be snug in your house, warm and cozy, instead of breathing fog and hoping the rain and mist doesn't turn to sleet and snow, but, then again, how much does your bad-azz quotient increase if it does? And then you think of the 168 chairs in Oklahoma City, and how the people they represent would love to run outside in the rain just one more time, and there's snow there today, shrouding the chairs, large and small, in a blanket of cold whiteness, so it's really not that bad here, along the creek,with just a fluffy red cardinal here and there breaking up the grey of the leafless trees and the cloudy skies.<br />
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You think about how things are much better today in general than they were just a few days ago, and no, all the problems in front of you aren't solved, not quite, but you are better, and you're handling it somewhat more readily, and having to explain to someone how you eat an elephant makes you remember how to eat an elephant, and for once you listen to the words coming out of your own mouth and cut the meat from the bone, and dice it into small pieces and then you pick up a fork and you start eating. And you remember that it will take a while, and there are pieces of that damn elephant that you can't eat, and that's okay, you just set that aside and you deal with it later.<br />
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And you make it through 12 miles in near solitude and you don't break down in tears and angry sobs this time and that's a good thing. But it's also okay that sometimes you do break down in tears and angry sobs and it doesn't mean anything except that sometimes you just need to release all those feelings, and the birds and the squirrels along the path don't judge. They chatter and scold you, no doubt, especially on days like today when there was not one other human on the trail, but they don't judge.<br />
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And when the rain stops, and it's just you and the trail and the wind and a bird or two along the way, you realize that it was actually a pretty damn good day for a run.<br />
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And then you can go home and hang out in your cozy warm house. And have a piece of chocolate cake.<br />
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Week 13: 31 miles, including 12-mile long run, weekday routes with hellaciously hilly streets around campus, and more crazy Texas weather.UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-86715367145873051052014-02-01T22:27:00.001-06:002014-02-01T22:27:30.781-06:00FlashbackScene: Huntsville, Texas<div><br></div><div>Stalwart runners running, hiking, sleepwalking 100 miles through the piney woods of southeast Texas, all for a belt buckle and the honor of meeting a challenge few ever think to step up to and even fewer meet. A few of us gather to cheer, to clear mud from shoes, to ask when they last peed, to force them to drink warm broth (yes, we know you had some, have more), to make up games to try to stay warm and pass the time in the wee hours of the night while our runners were out there, running, running, running. Some of us pace, some give the shirt off their back, some hang around camp for hours waiting to jump into action for the five minutes our runners come in between loops. </div><div><br></div><div>I say "our" runners, like they're our property, but it's more that they were our charges. We were not there to run the distance ourselves, but we each had a role, we each wanted a part of it, we wanted to feel connected to all the strength and determination and grit that it takes to travel 100 miles on your own power. </div><div><br></div><div>FIGJAM was officially christened that night. We had been born previously, each of us arriving at our own level of awesomeness, on our own individual journeys, but that weekend was the debut of the bright yellow shirts and the nicknames and the crystallization of this motley band of amazing people that will go any distance to support and rally and encourage and love those who dare step up to a challenge and reach into and beyond themselves to be the best they can be. </div><div><br></div><div>Congrats to those who have finished their 100 mile journey tonight, you fast bastards. To those of you still out there, into the night, keep moving, lift your feet & watch out for the gators and prisoners. Joe P is waiting at the finish with your buckle, and FIGJAM is sending you all our strength. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigXfSvP1qYVWyTOCTZhcx4onaMfUyBTWO-eVX8U7zWBHFezo719R_WK3GOWtJYZs_PERUEXSpskJXmie8Eo1Vh1kPTflK92TbqUQZtwaRywQz91RdkkF6HL9xAxfYFJeqKouGrdA/s640/blogger-image--284296917.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigXfSvP1qYVWyTOCTZhcx4onaMfUyBTWO-eVX8U7zWBHFezo719R_WK3GOWtJYZs_PERUEXSpskJXmie8Eo1Vh1kPTflK92TbqUQZtwaRywQz91RdkkF6HL9xAxfYFJeqKouGrdA/s640/blogger-image--284296917.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaqKTxcN9ml9BHd20hFUB4ARwurB0AYL0XeZOZfvkFSo5JHEf-vbIfJNszBZHwor7Moe7NIk2VsmQn46AvQTHJWfSM_RjscPXHZ3O-zTBWW2dYtFBDABYkKWif4VLYZ2L8xm8slA/s640/blogger-image-1262132675.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaqKTxcN9ml9BHd20hFUB4ARwurB0AYL0XeZOZfvkFSo5JHEf-vbIfJNszBZHwor7Moe7NIk2VsmQn46AvQTHJWfSM_RjscPXHZ3O-zTBWW2dYtFBDABYkKWif4VLYZ2L8xm8slA/s640/blogger-image-1262132675.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgejnww3SV7JkStIMSdSqZ-nxiB1eB5bv7PSbrYGM0doR6vNw8-s1qg9gBY0kR9ACIrZBNhR-8bRLeA3zlLJplABDqPxv6qRdx7QWnHHKRwSv_nr3LSFs-1x4pTSJMXhjorDtFqWA/s640/blogger-image-1301053873.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgejnww3SV7JkStIMSdSqZ-nxiB1eB5bv7PSbrYGM0doR6vNw8-s1qg9gBY0kR9ACIrZBNhR-8bRLeA3zlLJplABDqPxv6qRdx7QWnHHKRwSv_nr3LSFs-1x4pTSJMXhjorDtFqWA/s640/blogger-image-1301053873.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div>UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-67221900443411528742014-01-30T21:40:00.000-06:002014-01-30T21:47:54.796-06:00Note to SelfIt's okay to ask for help.<br />
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You don't have to do it all by yourself.<br />
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Worst-case scenario, they say no, or they can't do anything right then and there. Best-case scenario, you get some new ideas, a fresh perspective, a solution to the problem, or at the very least, a hug and a smile when you need it.<br />
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Rinse, repeat. And repeat it again, until you believe it.<br />
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Quit making things so damn hard on yourself. Things are complicated enough some days without your super-hero mindset making it harder.<br />
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ORN: 3 miles walking at lunch with a friend from work. 6.5 miles running after work around Overton Park. I ran down Ranch View Road... I'm going to have to try to run UP that street one day... Will make Gorilla Hill look like a speed bump by comparison!UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-80244452282330237402014-01-28T21:55:00.001-06:002014-01-28T21:56:50.000-06:00Overwhelmed<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">So wake me up when it's all over</span></i> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">When I'm wiser and I'm older</span></i> </blockquote>
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<i><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">All this time I was finding myself</span></i> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">And I didn't know I was lost</span></i> </blockquote>
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<i><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">I tried carrying the weight of the world</span></i> </blockquote>
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<i><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">But I only have two hands</span></i></blockquote>
-- Avicil, Wake Me Up<br />
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The wonderful thing about a bubble is that if you are inside it, when things get bumpy, you come up along the edge and it softens the blow. Even if the bubble is invisible and you forget that it's there.<br />
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Especially when you forget that it's there.<br />
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ORN: 5 miles done, right after work, in the 'hood around campus. Hella hilly, cold and brisk, but exactly what I needed. Slower than usual, but tonight's run was therapy in oh so many ways.<br />
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UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-11790924977830940422014-01-27T22:16:00.001-06:002014-01-27T22:16:41.453-06:00New WeekFresh start. New beginnings. Like Rafiki says "It's in the past, it doesn't matter..." <div><br></div><div>Or something like that. </div><div><br></div><div>There is good all around me. I need to stop worrying about things I can't control & recognize them. I know at the top of that list are friends who know just the right things to say & when the best thing is to let me verbally spew and eventually work my own way back to reason. </div><div><br></div><div>Circle of influence, Circle of concern & all that. </div><div><br></div><div>Getting a decent night's sleep will help, too. Hard to function in the daylight when you're tossing and turning and channeling Bart Simpson in his big-boy bed at 2 AM... </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk86S1J8DbQR5GPVxvwBn3a8lGyHoFXHQSoELIQa2ixvVeaPZ1sYq8rA0GpRRVB8TDVFge8l62H74eubsvJTVv6JfDC6iEWDG2xBrECWe19yMWtBBUXn_q1Z0ddgcG_I5xiDNYig/s640/blogger-image-1182118660.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk86S1J8DbQR5GPVxvwBn3a8lGyHoFXHQSoELIQa2ixvVeaPZ1sYq8rA0GpRRVB8TDVFge8l62H74eubsvJTVv6JfDC6iEWDG2xBrECWe19yMWtBBUXn_q1Z0ddgcG_I5xiDNYig/s640/blogger-image-1182118660.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I'll be getting back to more regular blogging again. It's good for my mental wellness and helps me keep things in perspective. Keeps me accountable, too, with the OKC training. Win-win. </div><div><br></div><div>For now, the couch, my sweet baboo, and a ruggedly handsome fictional writer & his detective fiancée are calling my name. </div>UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-82691417254491871532014-01-26T21:48:00.001-06:002014-01-26T21:50:04.741-06:00The love of the Game...<div>... cannot be explained. It has to be grown naturally and organically, fostered in my case by memories of watching Saturday baseball narrated by Vin Scully or Jack Buck or even Tim MCarver; by recollections of summer evenings at the ballpark, watching my brother's games and falling in love with the snap of the ball in the glove, the crack of a bat, the cheers of the crowd, and the sun dropping behind the outfield fence. There are things that can't be taught about the game, only experienced. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqCsfLU7y_wS82t7CjWbjRxmp6ut3c74nWPJEBmG-U5zxIBSTfDurwO70XXasOSj_d8jXDXrQJDEeOcg2bcCHsaKbnC6n_ZrJm79ByoVP5R2MxSokl_HFLIJHvILlL90spspQj2g/s640/blogger-image--938084458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqCsfLU7y_wS82t7CjWbjRxmp6ut3c74nWPJEBmG-U5zxIBSTfDurwO70XXasOSj_d8jXDXrQJDEeOcg2bcCHsaKbnC6n_ZrJm79ByoVP5R2MxSokl_HFLIJHvILlL90spspQj2g/s640/blogger-image--938084458.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOX9_lUpixeJpNAecJbOKxnwhefty2uHL767EZ3b6OICgF9s_yiziFb0Vw4f4UX7MmOn6t2ChmnM-QxSwh57DGEZTM0OrT-4OIEoy7rFzVRzKS-lyd1d9W_hGebGMCg1-UZQTKow/s640/blogger-image-118584073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOX9_lUpixeJpNAecJbOKxnwhefty2uHL767EZ3b6OICgF9s_yiziFb0Vw4f4UX7MmOn6t2ChmnM-QxSwh57DGEZTM0OrT-4OIEoy7rFzVRzKS-lyd1d9W_hGebGMCg1-UZQTKow/s640/blogger-image-118584073.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3fjRcdpyIs8uQTHmUdmuSRap9kfDIcMwjSkoE15qBCx22ArRERgr8o73ktDuCGn8aEnvtY5-ZyRswJttBtB1L9MjaYuORjpZfJwzBn4ZHhAus7Xa58-8-6qTygPkCyUPLRF0pJA/s640/blogger-image--1850096512.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3fjRcdpyIs8uQTHmUdmuSRap9kfDIcMwjSkoE15qBCx22ArRERgr8o73ktDuCGn8aEnvtY5-ZyRswJttBtB1L9MjaYuORjpZfJwzBn4ZHhAus7Xa58-8-6qTygPkCyUPLRF0pJA/s640/blogger-image--1850096512.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Spent Saturday at my favorite place on the planet. I'm so ready for the season. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">What it appears that I'm not ready for right now is OKC. Seven miles of training this week was all I could muster. Recovery from 3M took longer than I thought then allergies swooped in and kicked my azz. I'm revising the training plan to repeat last week's mileage & get back on track. I'm considering this a step-back week. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Balls. And not the good kind, with 108 stitches, either. Sigh. </div></div><br></div>UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-90790680916696263172014-01-23T22:08:00.001-06:002014-01-23T22:08:52.696-06:00What Doesn't Kill You<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwqIcJetleBVQsOalXBrCAHfYoCF2dwcmidF2j-KjdJuZ0dZSob3HbMVJg7xjSERWVh7z5uePdqy5s2nQarMa9QzPwUXDG8H_0aGncpXcX9q32eXNCN8tcHxLXy_tQBbMf_Fkgw/s640/blogger-image-324828815.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwqIcJetleBVQsOalXBrCAHfYoCF2dwcmidF2j-KjdJuZ0dZSob3HbMVJg7xjSERWVh7z5uePdqy5s2nQarMa9QzPwUXDG8H_0aGncpXcX9q32eXNCN8tcHxLXy_tQBbMf_Fkgw/s640/blogger-image-324828815.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Makes you STRONGAH! <div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyphenhyphenoo5JooevdszvPfgzCnjhm2qIU05VvVZxP3ookgf4PjtUn5HBawjVOD48E8VM8pJ7pHdHBCAR75VaSeRx2GSeuPMYx6bSvX_FxN8T_SN_PH_TvpqiqbSqGXwVnvTDLgxNywUrw/s640/blogger-image--1750229836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyphenhyphenoo5JooevdszvPfgzCnjhm2qIU05VvVZxP3ookgf4PjtUn5HBawjVOD48E8VM8pJ7pHdHBCAR75VaSeRx2GSeuPMYx6bSvX_FxN8T_SN_PH_TvpqiqbSqGXwVnvTDLgxNywUrw/s640/blogger-image--1750229836.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I almost quit after the first mile into the wind. Actually circled back to the house & unlocked (but didn't open) the front door, ready to call it a night. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Then I stopped, put on my big-girl panties & headed back out. I took Tuesday off because the race took more out of than I anticipated, but last night I just got lazy. I HAD to run today. So I did. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It's not the coldest I've run in. It's not the windiest. It's not the toughest. It didn't kill me. And I guaran-damn-tee it will make me STRONGAH. </div><br></div>UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-83567501996955187352014-01-19T19:08:00.001-06:002014-01-20T09:23:50.204-06:00Week 15 DONE: Precious Few<div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I had heard about this race for years & always had it on my list to do. A fast course, point to point, finishing up through the UT campus & at the state Capitol? Sign me up!! When MK decided this was going to be her birthday race, I signed up right away! An excuse to see my Freshman, combined with a road trip & Frunners couldn't be passed up. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Then, to add to the fun, the Baseball Savant decided he was ready to tackle his second half. He signed up a couple of weeks after me & was excited to see what he could do without the hamstring tightness that, um, well, hamstrung him at Thanksgiving. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">So we loaded up the Jeep, mostly with the stuff the boy left behind when we dropped him off last week, and headed down to Austin. Packet pickup was crowded but well-run, and there was a nice little expo with a few samples & the usual wares. We headed to campus to retrieve the boy, then checked into our hotel to await Team K. After a little rest time, we had a great family-style dinner, complete with pasta & cheesecake, but certainly the highlight for me was the company. My favorite men plus two if my best Frunners. Can't ask for more. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">5 AM came early, and we were up for a brisk morning and what should've been a short drive to the race site. Siri was less than cooperative so (act surprised) we got a little turned around. Still we got there in time, unless you needed to hit the portapotties. Whoops. Sorry, Team K! Hey that's why it's chip-timed, right? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I found the Savant and took a quick pic and gave him a good luck kiss, but then moved back in the corrals a bit. Even with a bum leg he's faster than me, so healthy I knew I had no chance to keep up with him. My race plan was just to take advantage of the mostly downhill course, keep up with my hydration & enjoy the day. I stuck to my routine I've been following in training of running 3-4 minutes then walking 20-30 seconds. Exact intervals are determined by my playlist, so it's usually pretty consistent unless I get a Meatloaf or Led Zeppelin song served up, in which case I want to die halfway though. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">The course was as advertised, mostly downhill, with just a couple of gradual uphills at 2-3 & mile 10. Crowd support was steady if not sparse in a few spots, but there were a few folks we saw two or three times. You gotta love the spectathlete. Makes me glad that we take time a few times a year to get our cheer on; it really makes a difference to the runners. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">One sign in particular really stuck out to me and I'm sad I didn't get a photo, but the message was clear and it was significant and I don't need a photo to remember it. It was at about mile 9 (NINE MILES!!) and it read very simply: "Precious few are able to do what you are doing." I forget this sometimes. I forget it a lot, actually. On my FB page just this weekend, I have hundreds of friends posting about their races in Houston, Louisiana, Oklahoma, and Canada, among other places. I hang with a crazy crowd that thrives on endurance events, and I need to remember that what we do is not the norm for most of the population. It's easy to think that everyone runs half marathons (or longer) to celebrate their birthday, or that all groups of friends plan out monthly races & rides as social events because that's what we do. But it's not true, and the mere act of running 13.1 miles on a perfect Sunday morning should not be taken for granted. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">The downhill course definitely took a toll on my quads but it was such a beautiful day and I couldn't help but smile throughout. I thanked the Austin police profusely, high-fived the crowd, took photos on the run. And just when my legs would start to ache, one song would end & it was time to walk a bit. Pretty soon we were at Mile 10, on the one long uphill that was actually a welcome change but a challenge nonetheless. That really was the only time in the race I felt mentally down. And then the Frunner song came on my iPod and I got enough of a burst of energy and heartwarming love from the song that it got me up & over the hill. After that, it was literally all downhill, plus I knew the boy would be waiting for me just down the street from his dorm. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Another half mile & I was at the finish! As I neared the mats I heard the Savant & Team K yell my name. So glad to be done but as usual, the pain & suffering I was feeling just minutes before dissipated the minute that medal went around my neck. Funny how that works. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I definitely would recommend this race and I hope I can do it again. Buses took us back to the car at the start, where it was tough to know there were 6000 people there only hours before. Impressive logistics. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">So there you go. Another week done, another 22 miles closer to Oklahoma City. The soreness in my legs makes me anxious for the increase in mileage but I'm just going to focus on getting through each day on the plan, and trust that the training will carry me come race say. And I'm going to be thankful that I can even attempt this, because as the sign said, precious few can.</span></div>
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UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-78595341358958970702014-01-08T21:16:00.001-06:002014-01-12T22:20:14.228-06:00Week 16 DONETexas weather really didn't want me to run this week. Really. Texas weather made me WORK this week. <div><br></div><div>Monday was 18 degrees. So cold. I was never so glad to have a rest day on Monday. I might have shared a banana split with my sweet baboo on an impromptu date during the nerdlet's Scout meeting. It was a good day to not be running. </div><div><br></div><div>Tuesday was not quite as cold but still super chilly. It was actually about the most perfect weather for me, running wise. I cranked out four effortless miles after dinner. I felt great. <br><div><br></div><div>And then Wednesday. No run on Wednesday. I was sick. Couldn't breathe. So congested. Hurt to swallow and my face ached. I hated to bail on a run so early in this training cycle but I remembered that whole balance thing. I also remembered I have a half-marathon on the schedule next weekend and didn't want to press. <div><br></div><div>So I skipped Wednesday, heavily self-medicated & dragged myself to bed. Apparently I slept restlessly and woke up still stuffy. Thursday morning was foggy, misty & wet. Miserable. Almost as miserable as I felt. Allergies were still kicking my azz. But I had packed my running clothes and during lunch I got my Thursday miles in. They were slow & ugly but they were done. And I felt better afterward. Really better. I could breathe again. </div><div><br></div><div>I could've made up Wednesday miles on Friday. But I chose dinner out with friends instead. It was a good choice. I'm not even going to pretend it wasn't. Saturday had us in Austin for the quickest trip ever. </div><div><br></div><div>Sunday was windy. Okay it wasn't windy when I first got up. But it was by the time I headed out. And not just windy, but WINDY. Crazy windy. Soul-sucking windy. Can't hear yourself think windy. And kind of hot. Hot enough that the water fountains being turned off (to avoid being frozen, thanks Texas weather) was a problem. It was a big problem. Big enough that after the third dry fountain I turned & headed home, calling it a day, with six of the scheduled 12 miles done. Honestly, that was about four miles more than I thought I'd get. </div><div><br></div><div>But all afternoon, the missing six miles were on my mind. I couldn't shake them. I knew week 16 was too early to start making deals with myself. It's one thing to miss a run if I'm sick, something else entirely to bail because it's hard. DUH. Of course it's hard. It's marathon training. Nobody is making me do this. I chose this and I need to follow through. </div><div><br></div><div>So after a long hot bath, lunch to celebrate my mom's birthday, and a nap, I put on my big-girl pants & went out for the last six miles. I chose a primarily east-west course so the wind would be minimized. I drank up throughout the afternoon, then just went out & got it done. Done. </div><div><br></div><div>Week 16: 23 miles. Crazy weather. Done. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-gwsaobu9ZgNzS6ahEPz6Scb-eXcX6I9LBZSB_RRbpLX_9eQDdUeQsiiQzGxPSXe1fZX61R-fSBQgEYQRyFySbk4KgrWEPVlXMIRuAaKBPDNpP4R936v0dhR1QQ8UwaxMaqxnA/s640/blogger-image--649762172.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-gwsaobu9ZgNzS6ahEPz6Scb-eXcX6I9LBZSB_RRbpLX_9eQDdUeQsiiQzGxPSXe1fZX61R-fSBQgEYQRyFySbk4KgrWEPVlXMIRuAaKBPDNpP4R936v0dhR1QQ8UwaxMaqxnA/s640/blogger-image--649762172.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div></div></div>UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-49744213202157209022014-01-06T21:04:00.001-06:002014-01-06T21:04:58.185-06:00Ice Cream DateSometimes, it's 2 weeks after Christmas & you need to take the tree down already... <div><br></div><div>and sometimes, it's a rest day and what you really need is to split a banana split with your favoritest man in the whole world... </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSa0l2rTNgZ2wWmu63Z35GcBf9iNAtEXgzvGD18425VmTWovbhBJriYf7f8pROJ5ZBzE37FsrCxnXrNFQT01Q_IWcaGcdNhZIwk4GqcGLEgN9k4gb0_bMxiwwd0SroeuYQRy8SKA/s640/blogger-image-1698740109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSa0l2rTNgZ2wWmu63Z35GcBf9iNAtEXgzvGD18425VmTWovbhBJriYf7f8pROJ5ZBzE37FsrCxnXrNFQT01Q_IWcaGcdNhZIwk4GqcGLEgN9k4gb0_bMxiwwd0SroeuYQRy8SKA/s640/blogger-image-1698740109.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div>So the tree will have to wait at least one more night. </div>UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-10386670960864797912014-01-05T20:23:00.001-06:002014-01-05T20:23:51.880-06:00Week 17 DONEHit all my mileage again this week, on the day they were scheduled even. Had an amazing time doing it. By the way, I've decided to count down from 18 instead of up, so that's why we jumped from Week One to Week 17. It's my blog and I can count like I want to.<br />
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I love my Frunners and my FIGJAM girls. They definitely made my weekend rich and deeply satisfying.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We jiggled our butts for 5k and a great cause, and had a blast along the way. New FIGJAM tradition! </td></tr>
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Also, please let it be known that 9.5 miles of trails at Cedar Ridge is incredibly tough on your legs, no matter what pace you do it. But the rewards are plenty. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peppermint Patty came to visit for the weekend! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who put all these hills on my trail? </td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: start;">Week 17: 25.8 miles total. Included a 5k race, a trail hike & three short weekday runs. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #4e2800; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: start;">And yes, it did cross my mind to go around the block for an extra .4 mile, but I ain't all nuts. </span></div>
UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-80851131331251831712013-12-31T11:14:00.003-06:002013-12-31T11:28:48.398-06:00New Year's GuidelinesIt's New Year's Eve. I didn't have any goals for this year, so I can't do my usual report card. And that's okay. I'm not "into" objective measures right now anyway. But while I was out running this morning, I came to the realization that instead of making resolutions for myself in 2014, I would instead come up with Guidelines. Instead of resolving myself to doing (or not doing) something, or reaching for some, let's face it, arbitrary goals, I would instead come up with guidelines for myself for the new year. Things that, if I follow them, will help my life be more full, more complete, and more satisfying than if I don't. Things that will help me to be a better version of myself. As with everything I do, these are subject to change, but right now, sitting on my couch with a cat in my lap and my Christmas tree still up, these guidelines represent priorities in my life at this moment, and represent what I think will be important to me 365 days from now.<br>
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<li>Continue to strive for balance in my life and in my recreation. I used to be so defined by labels I put on myself - mother, runner, wife - that I would crowd out other things, other possibilities. I am a mother, a wife, a runner, a friend, a daughter, a business analyst - all roles that I love and that I want to fill well. But I am none of these things exclusively. Some roles may take more energy during different timeframes throughout the year, and that's okay, but I can't let one take long-term precedence over the other roles, not at the expense of the others. </li>
<li>Shepherd my children while I help them foster their independence. They are young men now, more cognizant of cause and effect, of the consequences of their actions, of the responsibilities and privileges of being active members of our home and of society. I want to continue to nurture them while giving them freedom to make the choices that are right for them while maintaining the security of a loving family and the value that we hold important. </li>
<li>Avoid sabotaging myself, with my words and with my deeds. I know how to reach the goals that I have set forth, and I also have historically done a fine job of getting in my own way. I need to stop doing that, both mentally and physically. I need to be as supportive and encouraging to myself as I am to others. </li>
<li>Support my husband in his running and fitness goals without imposing my own. I love that he has become a runner, that he has expressed interest in racing, in pushing his own physical boundaries. I need to encourage that without pushing my own expectations on him. I have experience that I can share, and I anticipate bringing him more into the fun and happiness that I find in running. But I need to do that on his timeframe, at his comfort level, not on mine. </li>
<li>Surround myself with people who bring me joy. I am blessed with many friendships and deep meaningful relationships that make my life fuller and challenge me to reach further, think harder, and do more than I would have otherwise considered. They are a source of camaraderie, of fun, and of mutual support when things are rough. I need to continue to foster these relationships not only because of the adventures we have, but because I feel like I am living deeply when I do so. </li>
<li>Dig more deeply into my photography. I am very fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants when it comes to my camera and what I choose to capture. I would like to refresh myself on the technical aspects of photography, things I learned 25 years ago in my intro RTF classes, and learn more about new technologies. I want to explore what I can do to help me transcend from a shutterbug to a more serious artist. </li>
<li>Document things more completely. Whether it's in this blog, in a journal, or through photography, I want to keep a more permanent record of things in 2014. Time is so fleeting, and I not only want to live in the moment as they are happening, but I truly want to capture them, so that I can look back and reflect and treasure the memories that I have created. </li>
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What's on your list of things to do in 2014?<br>
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<br>UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-23974231025349033652013-12-30T07:54:00.001-06:002013-12-30T09:23:44.933-06:00Week OneOr is it Week 18? <div><br></div><div>Do you start with one and count up to race day? Or start with 18 and count down? The count down seems to make more sense... </div><div><br></div><div>In any case, the weekly runs were all hit, on the scheduled day no less, and I felt solidly capable for all of them. Which is to say at no point during any of my runs did I think to myself "oh my sweet baby Heyzeus what have I done?" That, friends and neighbors, is what we call a rousing success in these parts. </div><div><br></div><div>Plan the work, work the plan. </div><div><br></div><div>Marathon training, y'all. It's not for the weak but it's not limited to just elites either. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBzMWybhHrLM6l4ctEjI5T0YCbnxwgs7OtXLilFBKfeROnfnHx1LgSnypnIN-GNHQZp3V2-LTcXNX9clgFh14kUXBeyMS1GWgqpWhfQQbxkfb2g3ILeKAZLQiHJmPPFU6Adli40Q/s640/blogger-image--1971446289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBzMWybhHrLM6l4ctEjI5T0YCbnxwgs7OtXLilFBKfeROnfnHx1LgSnypnIN-GNHQZp3V2-LTcXNX9clgFh14kUXBeyMS1GWgqpWhfQQbxkfb2g3ILeKAZLQiHJmPPFU6Adli40Q/s640/blogger-image--1971446289.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Week 18: 31.75 miles total. Included 5k race, trail hike & park miles with my sweet baboo plus 8-mile long run. </div><br></div>UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13081919.post-67319767210643071572013-12-27T20:52:00.001-06:002013-12-27T20:52:48.255-06:00Trail Therapy<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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I didn't even know I needed it. Until I got out there. Funny how that works out. </div>
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<br />UltraMamaChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13769976707261828456noreply@blogger.com0