Saturday, January 28, 2012

Persevere, Bitches!

If Thursday's Run Club left me feeling like a bit of a Rock Star (and it did), then today's long run has left me feeling like a One-Hit-Wonder on a K-Tel cassette underneath the seat of some assmonkey's bitchin' camero.

Jesus, today's run was hard.

I was scheduled to put in 1.5 hours today. In my mind, I thought I'd (minimally) hit the 8 mile mark and possibly, 8.2 miles.  That would put me at an 11-minute mile (or a little less), which would be good pacing for a long run and more importantly, for a long run outside. 

It wasn't exactly this bad. But close. No, not really.
I know the athletes at Kona deal with, like, 470 mph headwinds in 6,000 degree farenheit temps for 10 to 14 hours until they finish the 140.6 mile race.  I had 14 mph winds in 30 degrees F for a whole 1.5 hours (that's 90 minutes, people!).  I couldn't find an online "Shitty Weather Calculator" so my conversion of Kona awful to Chicago awful is just a guess, but I'm fairly certain that today, Chicago is way shittier.

The best part of the run (once again) was seeing Husband and kids in the car -- oddly enough, at almost the exact spot I saw them a few weeks ago when the long run was only 40 or 50 minutes -- and having them beep and yell and give me some encouraging fist pumps, like I had just thrown some 'bows, cut off Desiree Devila and was making my way across the Boston finish line.

It was almost exactly like that, too. I had 30 minutes to go and was, at that time, running a 12-minute mile.

Little Guy told me I looked like a man, baby.

It took me 6 minutes longer to reach the same distance I did last week on the indoor track. That freaked me out a bit, so for the last 14 minutes of the run, I pushed it a little more, or as much as I could given the deceptively slick sidewalks and wind.  In the end, I completed my run -- no stops -- in 1:30:10, and logged 7.93 miles. That's about an 11.22 min/mile, almost a minute slower than my average pace last week on the indoor track.

Both my left and right groin are in agonizing pain. I feel like someone screwed my hips in too tight. And my lower back, which has been yelping for the past three weeks, is yelping much more loudly. 

I staggered upstairs as soon as I reached my goal.  Husband immediately asked me how it went. So I started to tell him. It was really hard to move my mouth -- everything was pretty cold. And since I had forgotten to take in any water (which I drug around in that dumb fuel belt for 1.5 hours), I was a little dizzy.  Husband told me I sounded like Dick Clark, post-stroke. The Daughter told me I smelled. Little Guy said, "Good work, Mommy" and then reminded me that I looked like a man.

It's hard to not run as fast or as far as you thought you could. It can fuck with your confidence, especially when you know that the long runs are just going to get longer and longer.  So I had to figure out what my 'wins' were for this less-than-awesome run to and from Evanston.

Win #1: I didn't stop. Not when I became aware of my hip/groin/back pain. Not when I was pretty much at my house, but still had 14 minutes to go, so I ran around it and away from it to just complete the distance. I. Didn't. Stop.

Win #2: Last year, I stopped running outside in mid-October, after my first-ever 13.1. I didn't run outside again until one or two weeks before my second 13.1: 98% of my half-marathon training was done on the inside track. I've got to think that hitting the real pavement -- in the cold and in the wind -- is going to help my speed and stamina when I'm running in 55 or 60 degree F weather for my first 26.2 in May.  

Right?
Win #3: I kept my head in the game (this is kind of like Win #1).  At about 50 minutes, I had to cross the street, and the sign at the crosswalk read "WALK". I thought that could have been God's way of telling me to stop with the running bullshit and enjoy a leisurely walk for a bit.  But then, I remembered that the high of completing the run would last longer than the 40-second relief I'd get for stopping the run. My brain put the benefits of stopping or persevering on the scales and persevering won. That's cool. The me from last year totally would have stopped.

Win #4: I'm done!!! It's 12:35 pm and I don't have to do anything for the rest of the day (other than knit for a minimum of 42 minutes, and possibly shower, so Daughter will stop bitching). 

Next week, I'm up to an hour fifty. 

Yikes.

3 comments:

  1. And I thought my 7 miles in 1:02 was good.

    You ran farther than me, longer than me, and in conditions that made my run look like a springtime stroll.

    You are fucking Hardcore to the bone - if anyone says different, punch them in the neck. (I recall you prefer heart-punching, but neck just seems to go with the Hardcore image, don't ya think?)

    My kids think post-run, sweaty me is awesome - I'm not allowed to go near the Wife until after the shower, though. She's proud of me, but it's from-a-distance proud.

    My hour and a half run is next weekend - the 1:50 is two weeks after that. I know if you can persevere, so can I.

    Sincerely,
    One of the Bitches.

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  2. I would take your 7 in 62 minutes in heartbeat, you speedy summabitch!

    Also, I'm a Chicagoan -- we love the punches in da-troat! It's cheap, but it gets the job done!

    Lastly ... you live in Canada. I've never been, but I imagine that running outside means hurdling 12' snow drifts and wandering moose.

    You've got moose, right?

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  3. Just as pets - they are not used for training up here. (You could hurdle them, but the antlers are a bitch.)

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