In Which I Complain

I mentally composed a blog post last night while vacuuming.

This happens frequently.  I'll think out what I want to say, and it will be masterful and eloquent.  And when it comes time to transcribe it, it's gone.  I already thought it, so my brain decided I didn't need to store it any longer, and flushed it down the toilet.

Great.

Anyway.

Burnout or self sabotage.

Something isn't working.

And that something isn't my legs.

My legs are great.

Well, my hip hurts today, but that's par for the course.  It was an eventful weekend.

Where was I?

Oh.  So, yeah, my legs are working.  Hello sub-20.

But I didn't...earn (?) that.

I mean, okay, if a way I did.  It's not like I installed robot legs or something.  I did it.  And, in a way that's earning it.  But...it didn't come from hard work.

Because I haven't been working hard.

Yes, yes, the track work.  Shit, could that alone have done it?  Because my mileage is mediocre at best.  It's not where it's supposed to be.  It's not even where I'd like it to be.  I've been skipping runs left and right.  I can't tell you the last time I did a tempo run or a pace run.

I have races all over the place this fall, and I'm not thinking about any of them.

My brain, like this post, is scattered.

Fact:  I realized I could not achieve everything I wanted, so I decided to focus on my trainer's goal, which I have neglected to post on this blog, purposefully.

Fact:  My trainer's goal for me is a sub-40 10k.

Fact:  While I have mentioned this to a few people, I have been avoiding making it public because up until last week I did not think I was capable of it.  It's a stupid goal.  It's overly ambitious for someone who has spent the better part of three years just fucking around with her running.  It's still scary to write it out now.

So, last week, magical treadmill day, and I realized I might actually have a shot at hitting this goal.

Shouldn't that be where I knuckle down and commit to my training?

That's what someone who WANTS to succeed would do.

And yet.

And yet.

Yesterday I blew off a run.  I cleaned instead.  Sure, I have excuses, all polished up like the turds they are.  I could thrust them out there into the world, but they're excuses.  I could have squeezed 5 miles out before my family came over for dinner.  But I didn't.

This morning, I was up at some goddawful hour, as I am most mornings these days, against my will.  I could be using this time to get in my mileage.  Even as I write this I'm cursing myself for not nutting up and getting out there. 

But, jesus fuck running when I first wake up sounds to be about the awfullest thing I could possible imagine.  My face is puffy and my brain is fuzzy and all I want to do is NOT be awake.  I chose, in those moments, as I do every morning, to do nothing.  To sit on the couch and futz with my phone and not run nor stretch nor do anything that might further my physical abilities.

Something isn't working.

Is it this plan?  I've talked about it before.  I tend to thrive on structure, and this plan lacks the concreteness I think I need.  But, all I have to do is set it in stone.  And yet, and yet.

I'm tempted to revert back to the half marathon plan I laid out for myself.  It had structure.  It had biking!  [ah, yes, the bike.  When I chose to focus on sub-40 alone I let both biking and any thoughts of my FOUR (!!!) half marathons vanish my brain.  Fuck.]  It mimicked training plans of yore.

It's still an option.  I can jump back in to that whenever I want.  It practically matches the loose structure of my current plan, just tightening everything up.  This run at this distance with this pace for this many middle miles.  No whining nor skipping.

There are other factors.  I've had house guests off and on for most of the last two months.  When my family is in town it's hard to plan ahead.  I've been sleeping poorly for over a month.

I don't know.

Oh.  Self sabotage.  Yes.  The whole "I'm good at most things, so if I encounter something I might NOT be good at, I just won't try.  That way, when I inevitably fail, it will be because I didn't try, not because of my actual abilities."

Yup.  Familiar with that attitude.  It plagued me in high school.  It's distinctly possible that it's happening now.

Because, fuck, what if I can't do this?  Everyone has limits.  What if I try my hardest and don't succeed?

They'll haul me off and slaughter me.

Wait, no?  Then why am I so afraid of that? 

I don't know.

I assume this is a mental trait that keeps a lot of naturally skilled people from being truly great.

NOT THAT I THINK I'M TRULY GREAT.

Right now I'm pretty average.  But I think, if I really try, I could be GOOD.

Which is exciting.

I just need to figure out how to make that work.

The problem is, I had all these thoughts last night.  And I had big plans to get in my miles this morning.  And morning came and I chose not to.  I stood in my living room and decided "I will not run this morning."

I can't nut up if I don't want to nut up.  And it's hard to want ANYTHING in the morning.

We'll see.

This isn't a new problem, or a unique problem.  I'm not special.  I'm not breaking any new ground here.

But, imagine what I could be capable of if I did what I was supposed to.  If I could up my mileage.  What would my legs do then?  And I won't know unless I DO it.

So.

We'll see, I guess.

I took this picture at the Huntington Gardens on Sunday.  They had display cases of old lightbulbs.  SO COOL.  Also, my new phone's camera is badass, yo.  Don't they look like litter terrariums of science?

Something Something Weekend Something Something Pictures

2 week total (since I pushed my long run to Monday):  42.53 miles

Meh.

Thursday:

Workout with my trainer.  Lots of stretching and high fiving.  I remember nothing.

Saturday:  Local Olympic Trials.  100m, 200m, 400m runs.  100m freestyle and breast stroke.  50m backstroke.  Managed to be slower than the Olympians on all of them.  Weird.  Forcing my friends and husband to exercise?  Awesome.

Sunday at the Huntington Gardens.  Who wants to enjoy plant life when we can sit around taking pictures to post on Facebook?

I am art.

Sunday I ran 10.4 miles.  That doesn't belong as a caption to this picture, but nothing does.  Look at it.

Yatta!

I don't want to make a big deal out of this, because it was on a treadmill, so it doesn't count/is easier.

But I ran a 5k in 19:54 last night.

!!!!



Yeah.  What?

I know running on a treadmill is easier.  I know it's not a PR until it happens in a race.

But this means I CAN do it.  Based on how I felt afterward, I am capable of laying down this speed on the pavement.  For AT LEAST 3.1 miles.  Maybe more.  Maybe...double that?

Getting too big for my britches there.  Sometimes my eyes are bigger than my legs.  Hmmmm, not the best phrasing.

Anyway.

I was supposed to do my normal eight 400m sprints with my trainer yesterday, but we had a scheduling conflict.  I could have done them on my own, but I didn't want to.  I suggested to him that I do speed work on my treadmill instead.  "What if I run at my goal pace and see how long I could hold it?"

Now, I haven't been doing any pace or tempo runs because I suck and am lazy.  So, I was aiming for a mile.  I'd done it once before, but only that far.  So anything beyond a mile would be gravy.

I warmed up by running the dog for a mile.  He's the worst running partner later.  Either he's getting slower or I'm getting faster.  Likely both.  But his ass was dragging.

I got back to the house and unfolded the treadmill.  I plugged in my speed and off I went.

I had Tom Petty crooning in my ear the whole time.  I tried not to stare at the display.

Here's the thing.  I had this fantasy.  In my fantasy I somehow magically pulled out a sub-20 5k on the treadmill.  I've already spoiled this story, but in my head it was like all my other fantasies, where I'm instantly good at something without putting in the work.  And reality always leaves me disappointed.

So I had relegated this to fantasy land, too.

A mile came and went.  My left hip felt tight, but it wasn't getting any worse, and I wasn't limping.  Those are my two rules for quitting something due to pain.  Getting worse or limping.  I was stubborn instead.  Just one more "lap."  Make it to a nice round 2 miles. 

And then I was at 2 miles.  And my hip pain went away.  My breathing was labored, but not uncontrollable.  My legs felt pretty okay.  Fuck.  If I wasn't dead yet, maybe I could do this for another 7 minutes.

So I kept going.

It wasn't a cake walk.  I wasn't singing along.  I wasn't lollygagging.

But...it wasn't the hardest I've felt like I was pushing myself, either. 

I finished with seconds to spare.

I could have gone longer.  Or faster.  I still had some juice left in me.  Not much.  Not another 20 minutes, I don't think.  But juice.

I had done it.  This was a stupid, weird, "unattainable" goal I had set for myself long before I started running seriously, back when I thought 10 minute miles were the fastest my legs would ever take me.  I used to joke to people "once I hit a sub-20 5k I'll stop running races normally and do them all in costume."  It was sort of a joke to me, like the "Doctor" in front of my name when I email people (note:  I am not a real doctor.  But I am a real Rose.  I am an actual Rose.).

Anyway.

I stumble into the house (my treadmill is in the garage), startling my mom.  "Are you okay??" she worries.  "WHOOOHOOOOO!" I am a little out of breath, but I still manage to stand up tall and throw my arms in the air.  "I just did a sub-20 5k!" I yell, a little too loud.  "That's really good!" I throw in as an afterthought before grabbing my camera to take a picture of the treadmill.

Once I get the picture I stumble back inside.  "Holy crap!  Will you take a picture of me?"  I drag my mom in to the back yard.  I want to remember this moment.  All the other stupid sweaty pictures of me are worthless if I do not capture this.  The sun is in my eyes.  My mom doesn't know how to work my camera.  I do not care.



Yatta!  I did it.  Sure, it's on a treadmill.  I don't care.  I don't even know if hitting this goal in a real race will taste as sweet.

I didn't think I had it in me.  I know, I know, people run faster than this all the time.  It's not a big deal.  But it is.  To me.  Partially because it's a goal I've been chasing, both half-assedly, then fully-assedly, for a few years.  Partially because it represents how capable I am, and how capable I can be, as long as I keep putting in the world.  Speed work, man.  I'm still working on getting in the miles overall, so that should help get me faster and longer (HAR HAR HAR perverts). 

My legs.  Dude.  I thought they were just sexy.  Apparently they're pretty awesome as well.

So, yeah.  Cool, right?

Now I just need to sign up for a real race so this can officially go in the books.

Nut Up or Shut Up

I guess I'll stop being an asshole and update my blog.

I took a three day break this weekend.  I had a friend in town, I still haven't been sleeping well, and I was sore as fuck.  Everyone wins!

Shit I did instead:

Outside the Museum of Death in Hollywood.

Monkeying around at the Old Zoo.

Griffith Park Observatory.

I am a child.

But at least my socks were appropriate.

Ethiopian food.

Hiking in Griffith Park.

And then it was Monday.  I was still tired and sore, but I had 12 miles burning a hole in my pocket.  After work I suited up and headed out.  Thankfully, there was a break in the heat, so I wasn't sweating to death.  My guts didn't get the "it's cool" memo, so I spent the middle six miles gasping in pain, clutching my stomach, and slowing to a walk every 250m or so.  Sharp, awful stomach pain.  Stabby.  And then, against my better judgement, I took a chance on a fart.  Odds were in my favor.  I should have shit my pants, but instead it was just gas.  So, yeah.  Fucking awesome.  Still hurt, but I farted my way home, at which point the gas magically cleared up.  Bodies are stupid.  But I knocked out 12.4 miles. 

And then today, I dragged my cracker ass to the gym.

Workout:

Stretches:  Inch worms, twisty lunges, single leg roman deadlifts

x4
10 chest-to-floor push ups
10 (per side) weighted split leg squats

x4
20 reverse lunges with shoulder presses at the bottom of the lunge
5 (per leg) weird things where I laid on my side and bent one leg and push pressure against my trainer's hand?  I don't know.  It sucks.

x3
20 second per leg single leg planks
15 (per leg) toe touch crunches

It was a lot of stupid stretchy stuff.  I did my best to whine, but man, I've been a bucket full of bullshit when it comes to training for the last few months.  Downer City, yo.

I need to nut up and deal with it.

No Long As Quote For A Title Today

I ran to work again yesterday.  Another 6.2 miles on the clock.

My employees are fascinated by my fitness.  "How far do you live from the office?"  "Did you really jog to work?"  "Don't you also bike to work?" "How far??"

I hope that it's inspirational, and they're not just judging me by how my fair smells all day.  So hard to get the hair feeling nice.  People with short hair have it so much easier sometimes.

The run was not great.  My calves, hips, and quads were super tight.  It wasn't the worst run I've had, not by a long shot.  It wasn't a run I'd write love letters to.  I'm sure the backpack doesn't help.  I feel like it hinders my arm swing.  I don't know if that's accurate or I'm just paranoid, but the feeling's there.

After work I walked to my trainer's apartment, because it was hot as balls and I didn't feel like running.

Workout:

Stretches:  Inch worm, torso twist lunges, scissor kicks, other awful things.

x8 (no rest between sets except what's listed)
30 seconds kettlebell high pulls
30 seconds rest
30 seconds jumping pull ups
30 seconds rest
30 seconds rope slams
30 seconds rest
30 seconds kettlebell swings
30 seconds rest

How is it possible that 30 seconds can feel like it takes forever, then the next thirty seconds can go by far too fast?  I understand time does not exist outside of our perceptions, and our perceptions are not accurate when it comes to representing lengths of time, but it's still frustrating to experience such a juxtaposition.  My arms were fucking tired!

And then my trainer stretched me out until I almost cried.  My left hip is fucking tiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.  And for once that's not a compliment.  My trainer's current theory is that my right leg has to overcompensate, and that's why I'm feeling things more in my right hip.  It's an interesting theory, but it doesn't change what I have to do:  stretch more.  FUN.



My eating has been walking a balance beam.  This is a positive change, because I am making an effort to consistently provide myself good food to fuel my body.  I'm just supplementing it with deep fried hot dog wraps and twinkies.  But I've rationalized that as long as I'm eating the good food, the shitty food won't do that much damage to me.  At least not at this stage in my life/training, when I'm in tip top shape.

To brag a little bit (well, a little bit more.  Gone are the days of livejournal pity parties.  Blogs now seem to be all about bragging.  Why else would you deem yourself worthy to tell strangers about your life?).  I'm now on day four of no caffeine.  I was up at 6:45am, so it hasn't cured my sleep issues, but it seems to be helping a little bit.  And the side effects?  Almost none.  I had a few tiny headaches on day one, but since then it's business as usual in cuerpo de rosa.  My body is a well oiled machine.  When I oil it up.  Usually it's just a machine.  And minus this muscle tightness, it's doing what I want.  Which is pretty swell.  Being 30 has yet to let me down.  Everything has come up Milhouse thus far.

Plus, the men in my life are fucking adorable.



So, since I basically bragged about shitting fine sans caffeine (what, that's not what you read between the lines?  See, that's why I'm spelling it out for you.  POOP.  POOP.  POOP.  Jesus.  Get with the program), why don't you brag about something that normal people don't brag about, but you've been itching to boast about.

Oh, I have another one:  I am super proud of myself for being able to navigate home from anywhere in the area.  Which, um, I've lived here for a long time.  This is not something that should instill pride in me.  And yet, it does.  Which speaks to my need for greater achievements in my life, I guess.

So, your turn.

“You can't think decently if you're not willing to hurt yourself” -Wittgenstein

I ran to work yesterday.  I needed to get a morning run in, and my brother needed to borrow my car.  It seemed like the logical way to do things. 

I brought two hand towels and a change of clothes.  I have to rig my backpack so it wasn't flopping everywhere.  It restricted my shoulder movements a little bit, so I should probably look in to getting a real running pack if I plan on doing this on a regular basis.

I took the long way in so I could get 6.2 miles and be done with running for the day.  I've mentioned this before, but it's weird to run a path I normally bike.  The miles do not just fly by.  They drag.  I'm sure it being morning didn't help.  It's best when I have no other choice but to run in the morning.

I got to work and was, of course, super sweaty.  I stripped down in the bathroom, ran one towel under the faucet, and gave myself a pretty thorough whore's bath.  The only thing I couldn't really get clean was my hair.  Not without sticking my head under the sink at least, which I might be willing to try in the future.  Otherwise, the hand towel did a pretty good job.  I used a second towel to dry off, and I was ready to start the day.

The run was an added boost I needed, since yesterday I cut out caffeine to try to sleep better.  I'm officially on two full weeks of shitty sleep.  First, it was just waking up early.  Then, waking up early plus waking up repeatedly throughout the night.  Good times.  I've tried a handful of things.  Seeing what sticks.  Last night I only woke up 3 or 4 times that I remember, and "slept in" past 7am.  So, I hunted down some decaf coffee, since I like the taste of coffee and the morning ritual.

The upside is, I rarely get physically addicted to things, so I had a few baby headaches yesterday, but nothing else.

After work I jogged to my trainer's house.

Workout

Stretches:  Inch worm, twisted torso lunges, single leg roman dead lifts, bridges, etc

x3
20 multiplaner lunges which 16lb sledge hammer presses
10 (per arm) sledge hammer curls
10 bowler/speed skater move

x3
30 seconds weird rope dance
30 second straight arm rope slams
30 seconds double arm rope slams
5 (per side) speed side shuffles while being held back with an exercise band

Long, deep, painful, whimpering hip stretches.

My brother picked me up post-workout, and we headed to his new house.  There is a hole in the wall nearby that makes wraps, and then deep fries them.



Holy shit that was delicious.  Afterward I ate most of a deep fried twinkie, a deep fried snickers, and a s'mores wrap.  My body got a workout, so I didn't want my arteries to feel left out.

My training schedule allows for me to run anywhere from 0-2 miles today.  My hips have been bothering me since Monday, so I am stoked to be taking a zero running day.  Go team Rose!

"Resting on your laurels is as dangerous as resting when you are walking in the snow. You doze off and die in your sleep." -- Wittgenstein

Yesterday was a track day.

I was NOT looking forward to it.  As quitting time approached at work my stomach started tying up in knots.  What a terrible feeling.  I shouldn't dread running so much.  The last two track sessions have been so mentally hard.

But, my trainer was meeting me at the track, and my brother was joining us, so I had to go.





















So I ran.

400m
77, 76, 76, 79, 79, 79, 78, 78

Halfway through I convinced myself the track was not regulation distance.  It didn't feel like regulation distance.  It would explain why I was suddenly "faster."  But, my brother jogged a lap with his GPS on, and it was on the nose.  So, there's that.



 I could have gone faster.  I know that.  I was putting up my target numbers while phoning it in.  Well, okay, not phoning it in.  But I wasn't putting in the effort I was putting in last week.  It was way less hot this week, which is why my times were better.  I should have pushed harder, but I didn't want to.  Which is not a good sign.  But my numbers were still good.  Further proof that I rest on my laurels. Something to work on. 

Time Plus Effort Equals _____________.

Week in Review:

Biked:  27.2 miles
Ran:  27.36
Total hours of exercise:  7:40

I need more biking.  I'm on the right track with my running.  And those hours don't count the assloads of stretching I've been doing.  I'm also only counting my time at the track as 10 minutes, because that's how much time I spent running.  So, my total time devoted to being fucking awesome was (well, 24 hours a day, amirite?) over 8 hours.  Which seems like a great amount of time, but also not enough?  I guess this is where things get dangerous.  I don't want to turn in to one of those people who lives and breathes exercise.  I already have this stupid blog here, so I'm more than halfway there.  But there's a fine line between enjoying doing something a lot and getting obsessed.  To be fair, I'm likely far too lazy in general, and not athletic enough specifically to get properly obsessed with running.  Maybe if I were cranking out four minute miles in high school, but then I'd have a right to be.  As it stands I'm just some 30 year old whose legs go a little bit faster than she thought, and I'd like to see where they're willing to take me.

=================

Friday:

Rest day.  It was awesome.  I only felt a little bit guilty for not running.

=================

Hello kitchen.

Saturday:

10.58 miles @ 8:41 min/miles

It was awesome.  I was up early Saturday morning, so I took advantage of it not being too hot (though it was hot as balls by the time I was done.).  I had planned on having Saturday be my shorter run, but once I got past the first mile I was loving being out there, and already doing the math on which roads to turn on so I could get over ten miles instead.  It was just what I needed.

========================

Visors make everyone look like a douche bag.  Except me.  They look awesome on me.

Sunday:

8.27 @ 8:14 min/miles

For some reason I got a bug up my ass to do this run in the middle of the day.  It was slightly less humid, so I didn't totally feel like stabbing myself in the face every time I stepped outside.  Apparently this translated in my head to "hey, moron, go running."

Well, it paid off.  The run was lovely.  I planned on only doing 6 miles, but then I decided to explore the local community college and see how their new track was progressing.  It won't be open to the public until fall of next year, which sucks, but it was a fun detour and I enjoy the whole run.  It was one of those "every mile feels easier wait holy shit every mile was faster than the last, too??" runs.

================

Which makes me wonder.  How many runs a week should be mentally hard?  Not all of them, I'm sure.  That seems like the easiest way to burn the fuck out.  But none is obviously too few.  Anything in between seems like something I should do research on.  For all I know, half my runs should be mentally hard.  Or maybe that would be enough to burn out my run loving motor.  It's probably one of those "it's different for everyone" answers, which isn't really an answer.

I guess I should start re-integrating pace/tempo runs in before these fall half marathons eat me alive.  I can feel myself getting faster.  My long runs were never comfortably in the 8s before.  But I'm not pushing myself when it comes down to the pace I want.  And all the track work and long runs isn't going to tell me how that's going to feel on race day.  I need to experience it on a semi-regular basis.

I'm still working on finding the right balance between running and biking and my schedule.  Hopefully this week will go as well as the second half of last week.

I have a date with the track with my trainer today, which will check off one of my short days, plus a mentally hard day.  That means I'll likely have to tuck a longer run in on the same day as weights.  And I haven't mapped out where to shove biking.  It's always going to be the first thing I drop.  These duathlons are fun, but I have a goal.

====================

Saturday night we went out for Korean BBQ.

Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaw.

Hot damn do I love meat.

=====================

I forgot to do any prep for eating well this week.  I prefer to bring food to work and never have to leave my desk.  I'm lazy.  Going out to get something to eat takes time and effort and crap.  Ug. 

======================

That seemed like a stupid way to end a post.  I probably should have ended with the talk about effort and crap, so you guys could chime in with how many times a week you put in a mentally tough workout, so I can feel shitty or awesome, depending on how I plan to measure up.

"One of the most difficult of the philosopher's tasks is to find out where the shoe pinches." -- Wittgenstein

After a night of almost enough sleep, Thursday ended up being a pretty good day.

I looked adorable.  I ate well.  I did not feel like lying on the floor and napping even once.  A good day, considering the rest of the week, at least.









Workout:

A series of core stretches that have been added to my list of homework:

Bridges- 30sec

Single leg bridges- 30sec each side
Both legs to the ceiling pushing heals up- 30sec
Scissor- each leg 30sec holds each side.

Inch worms across the gym
20 lunges with torso twist
20 single leg roman deadlifts

x4
10 (per side) speed skater one leg things (the last time with weights)
20 kb swings

x4
10 lunge to one legged...something, there I tried to get my upper body and lifted leg parallel to the ground
20 reverse lunges

We had a long talk about trying to fit everything in.  He chided me for the day I biked home from training and tried to immediately run.  DUH it was going to be a shitty run.  We talked about balance a social life and home life with high levels of physical activity.  He's frustrated with my desire to keep as much biking in my week as possible.  I want to be able to do everything, okay?  And I'm not ready to give up that possibility yet.  But, I probably will be soon.  I feel like if I can get back to 8-9 hours of sleep a night, everything will feel easier.

With that in mind, I hit an easy run when I got home from the gym.



3 miles @ 8:54

Each miles was faster, and each mile felt better.  It was humid out, but there was a cool breeze, and I was enjoying myself.  Let's hope that feeling holds.

There's No Crying In Speed Work

There's no crying in speed work, but yesterday I came close.

My trainer met me at the track.  It was hot.  I still haven't had a good night's sleep.  My legs have been hurting.

A recipe for success, right!

8 x 400

73, 80, 77, 80, 82, 83, 83, 83

Which would have been awesome numbers, if not for the numbers I was putting up a week ago.  But, compared to last week, I was dragging.

After at least half of the laps I felt like crying and quitting.  I almost cried 100m in to one of the laps.  I don't know what my problem was.  It was just hard.  I was having a shit time catching my breath.  My breathing was shallow and ragged and almost painful coming off of each lap.  Everything was awful.

I don't know.  Running hard is hard. 



=================

I did manage to eat well for the day.  I figured I'd document it because that's what people, do, right?  They put pictures of food on the internet?



Walnuts, strawberries, and coffee.



Water and more coffee.



Three chicken thighs, some tri tip, and steamed sweet potatoes.



Tomatoes and cucumber.



Pork rinds.



Lemonade and more water.



Frozen berries and mango.  Turkey with kale and yellow squash and a ton of olive oil.

Oh, I had another thing of water, too.  Lacking a picture of that.

By the time you read this, most of the above will have magically turned to poop.

And that's why posting pictures of food on the internet is weird.

 

In Which I Ramble About Concrete Training Plans

For the last week I've been waking up 1.5 hours earlier than I normally do, against my will.  I know most people in the world get up at or before 6:45am, but I don't.  So seven days in a row of waking up at almost exactly that time, for no reason I could figure out, was kind of awful.  And ruining my life.

The up side is, I made it to 7:30am today!  The down side is, I woke up at least 4 times that I remember and at least 7 times according to my heart rate monitor.  So it was still shittastic sleep.

I feel like this, paired with crummy eating and nervousness about living up to my trainer's running expectations, has led to the last few days of shitty or skipped runs. 

Which brings me to:

Monday: 

Biked 14.58 miles
Finally got my tires filled up properly, and what a difference that makes
Skipped running due to heat and twingy hips

Tuesday:

Biked to work
Biked to gym
Worked out with trainer (see below)
Biked home
Attempted to run
Quit 3.5 AWFUL miles in
Even the company of Sky, ranting about politics and economics and philosophy couldn't save this run

The Workout:

Warm up stretches:  Inch worm, frog walk, high knees

For time (8:15 or 8:50, I was too busy dying to listen properly):
50 wall balls
25 hanging knee raises
40 wall balls
20 hanging knee raises
30 wall balls
15 hanging knee raises
20 wall balls
10 hanging knee raises
10 wall balls
5 hanging knee raises

After I recovered from dying, we moved on.

x4
15 squat rows
10 machine incline chest presses

x3
15 (per side) low to high wood choppers

=============

Um.  So.  Yeah.

I'm taking a firm grip on my diet.  I started that yesterday, but had a frustrating go at it.  I complained to my trainer that while I was physically full, I still felt STARVING.  He made me go over everything I ate, and chided me for not getting enough fat.  I should have realized that.  For a smart person, I can be glaringly dumb sometimes.  So now I'm armed with pork rinds and walnuts, and today will be a better day.  I suggested I just drink olive oil every morning (and I'm not the first person to come up with this idea), but my trainer laughed at me.  He does that a lot.  If I didn't like him and trust him so much that would probably bother me.

I need to get my head in the game.  What game?  I don't know.  I don't have a goal race.  Well, I do have a goal race.  For a different goal.  I have a half marathon, and I have a goal time for that.  And I have a duathlon, and my goal is just to do better.  The half marathon training I can shoe horn in to my trainer's training schedule.  Fitting biking in is the problem.  Maybe I need to cycle (HAHAHAHHAHAHHAHA) the bike training.  20 miles one week, 50 the next, so I'm not always fretting about the bike, but I am laying down road.

Okay, I'm four weeks away from the second du.  I don't know if this is good or bad.  The more time I spend on the bike, the easier the bike is, so if I can keep what I'm doing, I think by default I'll have a much better ride.  But that feels too soon to start having off bike weeks.  Like last week.  With no biking.  And I've been sort of allowing biking to work to be enough.  And while it DOES get me on the road, it's lots of starting and stopping over 6 miles, which isn't going to translate well to GO GO GO for 19 miles.  I'm not sure doing longer rides on the trainer is sufficient for that either.  But I'm REALLY not sure I can squeeze some long road rides outs and not have everything fall to shit.  It's only a few hours a day, but sometimes it feels so frantic and frenzied, even though none of it is.

I think a light bulb just went off over my head.

So, when I have a lot to do at work and my desk is messy, things just get super overwhelming.  I freak out a little bit.  And then I take the time to organize my desk and write out a list of all my tasks, and it's so much easier to deal with, and not overwhelming at all.

My new training schedule is not concrete.  It's just mileage ranges each day.  Some days are 0-3 miles.  Some are 6-8 miles.  A week of mileage ranges.  Maybe do some speed work on one day.  Whatever you want!  And then the misty idea that I should be biking at some point, too.

No wonder I feel overwhelmed.  There's shit, everywhere, and it's freaking me out.  I'd probably function better if each week I nailed down what I was doing each day for that week.  As best I can.  My trainer can meet me some days for speed work, depending on his other clients.  My brother borrows my car when he game, so sometimes I have to bike to work, which I love, but my hips don't love it.  But, I think this will help.

Today is Wednesday.  I'm supposed to do 2-4 miles.  If I do speed work with my trainer today liked planned, I'll get in 2 miles of 400ms (plus rest, but that's walking, so I need to not count it).

Thursday I have a session with my trainer, and need to get 6-8 miles in.

Friday is rest day.  Fuck yeah.

Saturday is 10.5 miles.  Sunday is a max of 2 miles.  I cut yesterday's run short by 2.5-4.5 miles, so part of me feels like I should make that up on Sunday, but I don't think the legs work that way.  If I fuck up my hips while still building my base, I'm a raging moron.

Okay, I feel better.

Here is a picture of me with my bike:

Bad Run / Good Run

I skipped half my run on Thursday.  Friday was a rest day.  Saturday was supposed to be my long run, but I was lazy and my hip hurt, so I took the whole day off and pushed my long run to Sunday.

Sunday morning I was up early, but couldn't bring myself to run until around 9am.  Finally I forced myself out of the house.  I had been looking forward to this run all week, but I wasn't looking forward to it anymore.  It was already hot.  I was tired.

The whole run was awful.  Awful.  "No one ever regrets a run" is bullshit.  Fuck that whole run.  I should I quit a mile in.  It was stupid.  I hated the whole thing.  I hated running.  I questioned why I run.  I thought about quitting running all together.  My plans and goals were stupid and running was stupid and fuck it all.

4.65 miles @ 9:16

After the run I stretched everything out.  My hips aches.  My muscles were sore.  I spent a LOT of time stretching.

Around 9pm I was willing to nut up and put in the remaining miles on my "long run."



Holy shit this run was amazing.  It was everything a run should be.  It felt great.  It was easy.  Nothing hurt.  And I just kept getting faster.  If I weren't trying to not kill my legs I would have just kept going.  Hot damn.  That's why I love running.



5.19 miles @ 8:06

==============

Week In Review:

24.45 miles ran.

That's it.  I did climb on my bike once.  I don't know why.  Fucking lazy?  Pr-occupied with running?  It's a billion degrees?  I don't know.  Ug.  Ate like shit all weekend.  Haven't been sleeping enough.  I've been waking up at 6:45am on the nose every morning for almost a week.  I know most people get up at or before then, but I usually sleep for another two hours, so this is kind of ruining my life.

Life is good.  I just need to knuckle down and focus.

I Hate Coming Up With Titles

Wednesday:



Track.  My trainer invited me out so he could kick my ass, make me whine, and get some initial stats on me, to see how I progress with the whole running thing over the next 42 weeks of our plan.

400m @ 73, 76, 77, 79, 81, 79, 79, 77. 

Fastest 400m I ever ran.  Having my trainer here, shit, having him invest this much time in me in general, puts a lot of pressure on me.  This was off the clock.  He bought the books he's using just for me.  I want to do well so he doesn't think he wasted his time.

Every loop around the track I felt panicky for at least the last 100m.  I don't know if it was just discomfort, and me reacting to that.  I'm still not used to pushing hard.  I'm not used to feeling uncomfortable while running.  If I want to get faster for shorter distances I'm going to need to get used to feeling uncomfortable, I think.



=====================

Thursday:

Woke up and ran 3 miles on my treadmill.  The second mile was bothering my hips.  I slowed down for the third mile, but the hip pain wasn't going away, so I cut the run short and planned on doing the remaining three after my workout.

Workout:

x2
10 inchworms
20 single leg roman deadlifts

x4
30 seconds ring rows
30 seconds ring push ups
10 jumping squats

x3
10 (per side) raised single leg squats
10 inclined chest presses

Lots of awful, painful, helpful stretches.

My trainer chided me about:
-whining
-my diet
-taking rest when I need it

Oh, hey.  Diet.  Again.  Yup.  I need to eat better.  More complex carbs.  Planning meals out so I don't eat hummus on toast as dinner 3 nights a week.  Eating *enough*.  Getting un-lazy is tough.

My trainer also reminded me that we're ramping up this running thing fast and hard, so it's really important for me to listen to my body and take time off when I need to so I don't ruin anything.

He also told me I need to start stretch, all the time.  I fucking hate stretching.  Ug.

Being realistic, these are easy tweaks that will help me do my best out there.  Eat right for what I'm doing.  Stretch before and after I run.  Yup.  Easy.  *sigh*

And I haven't hopped on my bike this week.  Fuck.

Flip Flops Count As Minimalist Shoes, Right?

My brother recently bought a house.  He's also carless.  So, he borrows me car pretty often to make runs to Home Depot and stuff.  I have no problem with this because he's always good at making sure I have the car when I need it, and I'm pretty good at improvising.

So when he borrowed my car and dropped me off at work yesterday morning, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  I had 2 miles on my training plan (I don't know why.  It's not my job to question my plan.).  My trainer lives about 2 miles from my office.  My brother was going to pick me up after my workout.

Why is this worth writing up?



Because this moron forgot her workout shoes.

Fuck.

I had a few stupid options.  And I may have picked the stupidest one, because I jogged two miles in flip flops.

It was not as bad as I thought it would be.  Nothing hurt.  I didn't get any blisters.  I mean, it was only two miles.  I was prepared to walk if I needed to.  But, I didn't need to.

2 miles @ 8:23



My trainer walked in the gym, looked at my feet, at looked back at me like I was the dumbest person on the planet.  I explained what happened and his expression didn't change.  I guess I earned that.

The Workout

x2
10 inch worms (focusing on pushing my heels down and keeping my back arched)
20 single leg roman deadlifts

x2
20 lunges with chest twists
20 squats

x5
20 kettlebell swings (40lbs)
20 second rope slams
20 seconds rest

x3
10 rope climbs
10 chest to the floor push ups

The workout started off bad.  The inch worms were difficult.  My flexibility is always an issue, and always has been.  Keeping my back properly arch limited my range of motion so much it made me feel stupid.  And I was so frustrated I was taking it out on my trainer.

"If you want to hit your goals we're going to need to work harder" he chided me.  I nodded, but started to complain/explain (how frequently I try to pretend the latter is the former).  He cut me off.  "Do you want me to make you cry today?"  I shook my head and got back to work.

I know that sounds harsh, but it the moment, it was what needed to be said.  The rest of the workout was great.  It was exhausting, but felt good.

Once I got home and clean I threw on compression shorts and socks, because while I don't understand the science, shit feels good, yo.



Both companies have been very good to me, so I'm going to pimp them out.  Pro Compression in their new orange. Aspaeris Pivot shorts.  Both companies are super supportive of bloggers and teams who do relay races, which is pretty rad.  And both companies have, as far as I've experienced, awesome customer service and highly interactive employees.  I'm not saying you should purchase compression gear, and no one asked me to right this here today, but if you are in the market for compression stuff, both companies seem like solid small companies that are worth supporting.  /pimping

I have very low key plans for the 4th.  We have plans to hang out with our friends Marla and Andrew and make gourmet s'mores and ignore fireworks.  Trying to drive anywhere in Los Angeles the evening of the 4th sucks megaballs.  So, we're going to try to avoid that.  Thrilling shit, right?

I Did Not Crap My Pants

Why yes, my sports bra is on inside out.

BOOM, shirtless picture.  Why the fuck not.

6.5 miles on the treadmill.

8 x 400m @ 1:40 (9mph)
400m rest between (7mph for the first 4, 6.5mph for the second 4)

Plus, duh, warm up and cool down.

And then I spent 20 minutes stretching out my hamstrings so my training wouldn't yell at me.

I've done faster 400s, but never this many.  The last ones were hard.  But I could have done more.  Or done them faster.  And I will, in the weeks to come.  Exciting shit.  I'm constantly excited and thrilled by what I'm doing. 

While I'm ramping up everything else, though, I need to ramp up my stretching and my diet.  I'm pushing my legs pretty hard, so I need to take the time to roll them out and stretch them out so I don't hurt myself and fuck everything up.  And I'm so used to being able to eat how I eat and not gain weight that I'm not really focused on how I need to fuel myself to do my best.  Because I'm trying now.  And diet is probably going to be part of that.  I'll probably run better if I don't do things like forget to eat dinner.  Or have nothing but pork rinds and beef jerky for lunch.  I have some reading up to do on nutrition, but mostly I just need to nut up and not be lazy.

I either sweat a lot or shat myself, and my pants *are* brown...

This Post Is Entirely Recrap

Week:

Biked:  50.69 Miles
Ran:   25.80 Miles

==========================


Month of June:

Bike: 236.85 Miles
Ran: 92.95 Miles

====================================

Thursday:

This is why I normally blog about shit right after it happens.  What the fuck do I do with my trainer on Thursday?  I know we did some chest press stuff.  Ummmm.  I'm pretty sure he busted out the ropes?  I know we talked a lot about my running, and he gave me a very basic plan for the next 14 weeks.  We're building up mileage, and that is all.  Thankfully it works almost perfectly with the half marathon training I already sketched out.  We'll see if I can maintain my bike schedule and weights with the running and not kill myself.

After the training session I did a quick 10 miles on my bike trainer.

=====================================

Friday:

I biked to work.  I biked home.  I set up my bike trainer and biked some more.  Bike bike bike.  And, you guys?  It's getting easier.  And I'm getting faster.  And dealing with inclines and wind and shit better.  More time on the bike = better times on the bike.  Shocking, right?



======================================

Saturday:

6.2 miles in the morning.  I got a late start because mornings suck balls, so it was hot.  The run felt terrible the whole time even though my pace wasn't awful.  I did not enjoy this run.



=======================================

Sunday:



8.6 awesome fucking miles.

I knew I needed to get 8 miles in yesterday if I wanted to stay on target.  We had a pipe burst late Saturday night, so Sunday morning we still had the water turned off.  No water = no shower, and while I may be disgusting in many other ways, it was too hot and I sweat too much for me to run 8 miles and forgo a shower.  So morning running was out.

As soon as it started cooling down Sky came over to hang out.  He was not in the mood to run, and his company is too good to skip for anything, so we watched 5 or so hours of Fear Factor.  I laughed until my stomach hurt.

Sky finally left around 9pm.  I realized I never at dinner, but I couldn't push the run off any longer, so I nutted up and headed out.  Apparently I need to do more late night empty stomach runs, because it was awesome.  It was everything I want in a run.  The air felt cool.  I did not trip on uneven sidewalk and eat shit.  I felt fucking awesome.  The first 6.2 miles were faster than my previous 10k PR.  My legs love a training plan, apparently.

Very satisfying.



===========================

This type of blog entry is bad, and I should feel bad.

My old training plan says: 8 x 400m @ 1:40
My new training plan says:  5.6 - 8 miles

Totally compatible. 

============================

The 4th being on a Wednesday totally fucks up my week.  As an employee it's kind of great, but as an employer it sucks mega-balls.

I was going to try to run a 4th of July race in my creepy flag suit with my EMTs, but they're off in Utah putting out fires or something.  Why do states keep burning down?  Not cool.  Forest fires are scary as shit.  I understand that ecologically they serve a purpose, and it's near impossible to do the kind of brush clearance needed to avoid them on a large national park scale.  But, yeah.