Competing Against Myself

"You move from doing things to show other people you could, to where you do things to look into yourself, into your soul, and see who you are and what you're all about."
- Scott Weber

New Training Schedule

Well, guys, I have some news... I originally signed up to run the Avenue of the Giants Half Marathon on May 2nd, but there has been a change of plans. I will still be doing that race, but officially switched my fundraising event so that now I will be running the FULL San Diego Marathon June 6th. Oh, yes, I figured that if I was going to do this, I might as well go all the way!

With that in mind, I looked at what I was doing halfway through my training for the Silicon Valley Marathon last year and compared it to where I am now. I was really shocked by how “behind” I seem to be in my mileage! It's time to take things up a notch and start doing some serious training.

One of my Team in Training buddies helped me come up with a new running schedule--and suggested I get rid of cross-training all together. Here’s what it looks like now:

Monday: tempo run (1-mile warmup at 8:30-ish, 3-miles sub-8:00, 1-mile cooldown at 8:30-ish)

Tuesday: buddy run, 6 miles at comfortable pace

Wednesday: 6 miles, however I feel like running it as long as I do the distance (add fartleks? sounds dirty, but it's actually Swedish for "speed play")

Thursday: track—-aggressive VO2 max workout (or 22 mins in tempo pace)

Friday: rest/yoga (must force myself to do more yoga!)

Sat: long run starting at 10-miles and increasing one mile a week, capping at 16 miles

Sun: easy 5 miles or weight training

My goal was originally to do a half marathon, and then do a full marathon in the fall and try to qualify for Boston. Now, I’m thinking of just doing the full San Diego—not aiming to go sub 3:40, but at least just beating my PR of 3:59:02 (I think it’s a little late in the game and I’m not fit/fast enough to try to qualify—plus, San Diego isn’t exactly flat).

We shall see...!

Just get it done

Some call them “challenges,” some call them “hills,” I call them mountains of evil and despair.

Does it ever get easier to do hill workouts? Will I ever be able to run up a decent-sized hill and not feel my heart trying to pound its way out through my mouth? You would think that after living in San Francisco for 9 months, I would be used to them by now. Instead, I find myself zigzagging during my runs, expertly avoiding every hilly street—even if that means running farther. I now know which streets to avoid (Divisadero heading south, pretty much all of Hyde Street), and which streets are pretty much flat all the way through (Polk, Van Ness, etc.). But just as I learned where to run and where not to run, I started running with Team In Training, where hills are part of the deal. And there’s no avoiding them.

This Saturday we did our group run in the beautiful Tennessee Valley (in Marin). I woke up insanely early for a Saturday—even earlier because I had to walk Mr. Quade and Sascha before I left—and got a ride from Tiff, one of my great teammates. My legs still hadn’t recovered from my 50-minute, 6.5 mile run on Wednesday where I had attempted to increase my lactic acid threshold—in other words, run really hard for 5-minute intervals. It felt great when I was doing it, but not so much the next day. Oh, did I mention there was a track workout the following night too? My quads were so sore, I groaned whenever I got up or sat down. My co-workers tease me incessantly for sounding like an old lady, and Jeff rolls his eyes whenever I start whining about how I’m “soooooo tired, so so so so tiiiirrrreeeedddd.”

Anyhow, I digress…

We started an easy run in the early morning chill, surrounded by bright green hills partly covered in fog. The trails were muddy and slippery, but I had smartly worn an old pair of running shoes and didn’t mind getting dirty. Mid-way through our run, the light drizzle that had been following us from the start turned into pouring rain, which actually felt great against my hot face. We ran all the way to the beach, and even posed for a picture with the turbulent sea behind us (a tsunami warning had been issued for that weekend). So far, so good, right?

Well, things changed pretty fast. I stepped on a puddle and my feet got completely soaked, which seemed to add about 10lbs to my legs. The rain was relentless. The trails got muddier. I stopped noticing the beautiful surroundings and had to focus on my breathing. I started falling behind. I told myself it didn’t matter, I wasn’t going to kill myself trying to keep up with the rest of the group. Some days, the best you can do is just show up. Get through it. Just get it done.

And then came the hills… hill after hill after endless hill, or so it seemed. Tiff was running next to me and it felt good to have company in my misery. We were both so tired, we even stopped our constant chatting in order to get enough air into our lungs. It seemed that we couldn’t get enough. The last hill was so ridiculously steep, I found myself literally getting angry at it, furious in fact. What the hell was that hill doing there and why couldn’t I breathe?

Going back down should have felt like a relief, but I didn’t have much left in me at that point. Tiff was silent next to me and we kept bumping elbows, both so tired we could barely run in a straight line.

Somehow we made our way back to the rest of the group. It felt like I was the last one to finish. I felt like a failure, like my body had let me down. It only lasted a minute, until (always the eternal optimist) I reminded myself that, hey, at least I had legs that could carry me, albeit too slowly, up any hill. At least I was out there, surrounded by great people, testing my limits.

On the ride back with Tiff and Rachel, we resumed our loud chatting and soon the pain was forgotten. All that was left were our muddy shoes and the promise of a long, long nap.