It’s The Climb

April 23rd, 2010

While in Arizona last week, my husband and one of his (our) best friends, Z, climbed a mountain.

Camelback Mountain, to be exact. See how it looks like a camel’s back? Kinda? I know: It’s not Mt. Everest, and the trail from beginning to end is only just over a mile, but in some places it’s incredibly steep.

From the City of Phoenix website:

Summit Trail (Echo Canyon)
Length: 1.2 miles one way
Elevation gain: 1,264 feet (summit is 2,704 feet)
Difficulty: Strenuous and difficult

This is a very strenuous trail recommended only for experienced hikers. The trail ascends through some spectacular sandstone rock formations and offers unparalleled views from the summit of the greater Phoenix area.

Note that we are not experienced hikers. In fact, I’ve hiked less than five times in my life. I love it, and I have a decent level of fitness at this point in my life, but I’m definitely not experienced. My husband and Z are the same way: In pretty good shape, but also not experienced at hiking.

We started our day by going out for breakfast. Z and his wife (who unfortunately was stuck working that day) love breakfast more than anyone else I know, and they make it their mission to seek out the best diners wherever they happen to be.

As previously stated, I ate like a javelina (aka: wild, desert boar) while on vacation, and this delicious breakfast was no exception. I ate more than any one person should eat… and then I went for a “strenuous and difficult” hike. Who does that?

I knew we were going hiking – and that we were hiking Camelback Mountain which is viewable from basically everywhere in the city because of its size – but for some reason, I still didn’t realize how challenging it would be. None of us did. By contrast, the hike we did in January of South Mountain was (literally) a walk in the park. I think we were all expecting something similar to that, and therefore, we were ill-prepared for this hike.

First, there was that huge breakfast immediately prior to the hike. Plus, I was wearing a hat that was too tight and giving me a headache; I actually took the hat off not long into the hike and left it on the side of the trail to pick up on the return trip. The other problem was that we had two waterbottles, which, don’t get me wrong was better than nothing, but had I known what this was like, I would have wanted a Camelbak (aptly named, eh?) that allows you to sip through a straw the water that you’re carrying on your back, freeing your hands so you can more easily hoist yourself up on the rocks.

I know that it seems like I’m setting up a bunch of excuses to explain why we didn’t reach the summit, but we did! We stopped quite a bit along the way, and made a lot of incredulous remarks like, “Are you freaking kidding me?!” and “Holy shit – it just keeps going!” and “#$%&!”, but we finished.

Actually, we were about to turn back – mostly because my husband’s knees were really aching – and then I asked a cute couple coming down how much further it was to the top. They said it was “less than 5 minutes” from where we were, and that was all we needed to hear to push through to the top.

We were all so glad we did, too: It was amazing at the top! Beautiful vistas all around. And a lot of people resting and taking in the view.

Interestingly, I was more in awe of some of the people we saw than the view. There was a couple in their late twenties/early thirties who timed themselves. It took them only 33 minutes to reach the top. It took us over an hour. Crazy.

The way back down was super fun! It was still challenging, but it was a very different kind of challenge.

I feel like I could really be good at hiking. I thoroughly enjoy it, and frankly, under the circumstances, I think I did a great job (would have been much better with a smaller breakfast…). I’d love to be one of those people who climbs mountains like this regularly – and works to better their time with each ascent!

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In a Split Second

April 20th, 2010

After my mini-vacation, I eased my way out of my food coma and back into physical activity with my Monday night Hip Hop class.

I was having a great time, even though after the first 20 minutes I was completely lost and had a hard time keeping up. I have to say, I’m a little surprised at how utterly terrible I am at hip hop. I’m not delusional or anything – I didn’t think I’d be great – but I have rhythm from playing various musical instruments in my day, and I have pretty good balance and coordination (now) thanks to Kung Fu, so I thought I’d be better than I am. Oh well. Moving on…

One of the moves in the routine we were taught last night involved this sort of ‘squat thrust’, but you know, with swag. I did it a few times without issue, and then as we were running through it again with about 10 minutes left in class, my pants split.

That’s right: Once again, I split my damn pants in front of a room full of people.

To be more accurate, they were shorts. Long, black shorts. And I was wearing light pink underwear – not black on black like the last time, unfortunately. Also, this split was not in the crotch, but in the ass. When I eventually got home and surveyed the damage, I found a split about 6 inches long from top to bottom right along the seam, and then another 4 inches across in the middle. Very weird. Very huge.

Ok, so at the end of the routine, everyone goes into their squat, and I hear &  feel my pants split and immediately stand back up. Thankfully, I’m in the back of the room, so I don’t think anyone saw what happened. Of course, they all saw me standing while they were on the floor… and then they saw me quickly tell my friend what happened and run from the room… sideways.

I changed my shoes and left in a hurry. A quick reprieve in the elevator allowed me to get a feel for how extensive the damage was, and I could tell it was bad. I then left the building and walked (ran!) the 2 blocks to my car holding my purse behind my back. I’m so sly…

Embarrassing? Yes, of course. But here’s the amazing difference between this event and the last: Even though it would be easy for me to get upset and blame myself for my vacation gluttony, I didn’t think that for a second. I simply blamed the pants for being old and worn out. I was embarrassed because my ass was hanging out, but not because I have a fat ass. Big difference.

The changes in my attitude and self confidence (and, of course, the size of my ass) in the last few years are amazing. And events like this only serve to solidify that fact, rather than send me on a downward spiral.

Of course, now I need some new long shorts that are workout appropriate… and reinforced in the buttocks so as to contain all my swagger.

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Gluttony

April 19th, 2010

My husband and I recently returned from a mini-vacation to Arizona. He won a big award at work (yay!), and his company flew him and “a guest” out for a banquet*. Since we have friends there, as well, we decided to stay a few extra days.

Much fun was had by all. However, the four days we were away were detrimental to both my eating habits and my half marathon training.

I didn’t run a single time we were gone. This means I missed 2 mid-week runs, and Sunday’s long run. I would have done the long run today, but I got terribly sick last night after getting back home, and – though I’m much better today – I was definitely not up for running 11 miles. Or any miles…

I have a sneaking suspicion that getting sick was my body’s way of telling me it was unhappy with the food I had been giving it. Obviously we ate out a lot – that’s what you do on vacation – but I didn’t even try to make good, healthy decisions. I ordered whatever I wanted, and then ate the entire thing. Every single time.

I don’t know why I was going so crazy with the food. It was like I couldn’t help myself. I gorged myself over and over again, to the point of feeling bloated and gross. And then I did the exact same thing at the next meal.

It bothers me that I could go so ridiculously overboard – and for so many days in a row. I’ve overindulged before, but typically that’s for a meal or a day, not 4 straight days. AND without much** exercise!

I’m happy to report that at least I’m back on track today. It feels good to eat food not prepared by a restaurant. I didn’t run today, but I went to hip hop, and that was good. Mostly.***

*This banquet required that I buy a fancy dress. More on that later.

**We did climb the to the top of Camelback Mountain on Friday, which was both difficult and tons of fun. Photos and story to come!

***More to come on that later, too.

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Ten miles? Check.

April 10th, 2010

My run this morning was fantastic. FANTASTIC.

It was challenging (obviously), and toward the end I was really tired, but overall, I felt great.

I ran with two other girls: Friend #1 and M-Cat. Both are training for their first half marathon like me, but theirs isn’t until the end of May, whereas mine is May 2. That means I’m a few weeks ahead of them in training. As you know, 9 miles is the furthest I’ve run. That also happens to be the longest run for Friend #1, though she hasn’t run that far since the fall. M-Cat’s furthest run was 6 miles, and she has a knee that’s been giving her problems, so this was an ambitious outing for her, but she was willing to try it!

We set off running from M-Cat’s house at 9:06. It was a beautiful day – lucky, considering we’re in Buffalo and there was actually snow yesterday (Snow! In April!) – the blue sky was perfectly clear, the sun was out, there wasn’t much wind, and it was a great temperature, not too hot or cold. Beautiful morning for a run.

The girls told me to set the pace since it was “my” run. I started out a bit slower than I usually go, and they were both happy with that. I was afraid of going too fast since in my 9-mile run last week, I was out of energy after 6 miles.We ran out five miles, then turned around and ran back. At the halfway point, I was still feeling pretty good, and started thinking maybe I should speed up. M-Cat’s knee was starting to give her troubles though, and I didn’t want her to push harder than necessary.

Around Mile 7, we all put on our headphones to help us with the final three miles. Unfortunately, M-Cat’s knee had enough at Mile 8 and she had to bow out of the final two miles. She called in her back-up plan (aka: husband) who came and picked her up, while Friend #1 and I continued on.

We picked up the pace a bit, and I could really tell the difference. It felt good for a few minutes, and then the excess energy expenditure started to catch up to me… not to mention the fact that I had already run eight and a half miles. At about 9 miles, I told Friend #1 I had to slow down a little, knowing I wouldn’t be able to finish the final mile at that speed. She was happy to do so. (Incidentally, she didn’t seem tired at all – she was actually TEXTING at one point! Machine!)

It’s usually said that the first mile is the hardest. I agree, but only for shorter runs. On longer runs, the last mile is the hardest for me, so mile 9 was tough even at the slower pace. Friend #1 could tell that I was having problems (probably from my loud grunt) and told me that our finish line was “just around that corner.” That you could “see my car shimmering in the sun.”

I searched and searched for that damn car. It was nowhere to be seen. I swear she lied to me. It was another 3 or 4 minutes before I could see the car. Her vision can’t be that much better than mine! True or not, though, it worked: Thinking that it was so close kept me moving. SHE kept me moving. In fact, she asked me afterward if I thought I would have finished without walking if I was on my own. I’d love to say that I would have, but I’m not sure that’s the case. Maybe, but I was damn tired in that last mile. But now I know I can do it, so there’s that :)

I felt so good when I crossed the threshold of M-Cat’s driveway (at 11:03, 1:57:ish after our start), who immediately came out with big cups of water for us – so nice. Of course, as is pretty standard for me, the good feeling was replaced by a feeling of sickness. The sickness subsided once I was in the car for a few minutes, and went away completely within the hour.

Then I was just back to feeling good. Sore, yes. But still good!

I feel so proud of myself… of all three of us! M-Cat feels a bit disappointed that she couldn’t do all 10 with us, but her 8 was a HUGE accomplishment for her. Two miles further than her previous longest distance – and with a bum knee! Crazy. And now she knows she really has to get that knee looked at by a doctor, so that’s an added bonus.

Friend #1 kicked some serious butt, too. She said she probably could have gone at a slightly faster pace, but we were just concerned with finishing, and not overly concerned with how long it took. I’m glad I didn’t push to go at a faster pace even though I felt like I could go faster at times because it was so hard at the end that I may not have finished at a faster pace. It was a good call.

And now it’s time to go to bed, knowing I did an amazing thing today. Ten miles. Wow.

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Gearing Up!

April 9th, 2010

It’s almost midnight on the eve of my first double-digit run. I have to leave my parent’s house (where I’m staying this weekend) at 8:30am to meet Friend #1 at her place. We’ll then drive to M-Cat’s house and set out on our 10-mile run from there: Five out, five back. All flat. Or so I’m told, at least…

I’m actually looking forward to this! I’m nervous, of course, but I’m reasonably confident I’ll be able to keep up with my friends. I believe I’ll have the advantage since I’ve been training on hills and this place is flat. Suckers :)

I feel like a kid the night before the first day of school. So much excitement and anxiety. Who knows what the day will bring?! I should be sleeping, but my goosebumps are keeping me awake.

Details tomorrow. Wish me luck!

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Psyched

April 8th, 2010

You could say that Sunday’s run psyched me out. More than a little.

Monday is an off day, but Tuesday is supposed to be five miles. Well, this past Tuesday, I simply wasn’t up for it. So for the first time in over a month, I skipped my run with no plan for a making it up.

Yesterday, I was still wallowing in self pity and – once again – wasn’t up for getting back on the proverbial horse. Even with everyone’s support and encouragement, both in the comments on my last post and from a few folks in person (THANK YOU!), I just couldn’t bring myself to get out there again.

And then my husband said something that struck a chord: Even though I knew I wasn’t “giving up” he pointed out that people rarely choose to give up. Rather, they put off whatever it is they want to do one day. And then another day. And then before you know it, they’ve given up.

I knew he was right. I don’t necessarily think if I skipped one more day I would have stopped training for this half marathon altogether, but it’s a slippery slope, and I didn’t want to cross that line. Plus, I knew that with each run I skipped, 1) I would feel worse about myself and 2) it would be that much harder to get back into it when I eventually did run again.

So I did my best to psych myself up, rather than out. I went for a 5-mile run at 9pm and spent the hour thinking about all of the encouragement and wonderful advice I’ve received recently. I shortened my stride and slowed my pace (a la Rachel). I cranked up the motivational tunes when it got particularly difficult. I considered how far I’ve come and how it’s truly not the end of the world if I do have to walk, but did my damnedest to push past those feelings, since – for the most part – it’s a mental thing not a physical thing at this point. I got in the “zone”, so to speak.

I ran all five miles. Slowly, but without walking. I felt much better when I returned home than before I left. So, as per usual, I was glad I did it… even though every fiber of my being was screaming “No! Stay on the couch in your jammies!” Now I’m back on track, with just one run missed this week. Not too bad, considering.

Saturday is the epic 10-miler. My first double-digit run ever. And I can do it.

I can do it… I can do it… I can do it…

See? I’m getting psyched!

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What Was I Thinking?

April 5th, 2010

Longest run to date yesterday: 9 miles.

It was completely unfun.

I wish I had enjoyed it more. Or that I didn’t have to walk a WHOLE  BUNCH during the last 3 miles. Or that when I was done I didn’t feel ill and sore all over.

But that’s not the case. I was miserable most of the time, and for no reason that I can pinpoint like in other runs that weren’t my best. There were hills, but they were all very doable hills that I’ve conquered over and over again. I didn’t eat a butt-load of terrible food that day. I wasn’t dehydrated or overtired or underprepared.

I just felt tired and weak. I got a few cramps in the final third of the run, and that certainly didn’t help. (I really need to try some of those core workouts from Runner’s World recommended by a commenter last week…)

When I got home, I took a shower and then a two-hour long nap. I wasn’t sleepy; the nap was accidental. The kind of nap that just happens after a period of laying in bed because you can’t force your body to move anymore and there’s nothing else to do but sleep.

What really worries me is not this one run, because – really – it’s just that: ONE run. It’s the next bunch of runs. I’m supposed to do ten miles with Friend #1 and one of her friends (the one I ran with at last year’s Turkey Trot) on Saturday. What if I can’t do it?

The week after that it’s 11. Then 12. Then the half marathon, which I really want to be able to complete without having to walk.

Am I being unrealistic? According to all sources, this is a totally reasonable goal. Maybe – for me – it’s not realistic. Maybe I need more time. Maybe I’ll simply never be a distance runner.

I don’t know…

Maybe this is just too ambitious of a goal for me right now. I’m not sure I can do it.

I don’t intend to give up based on one bad run. Or even 5. But man am I feeling more than a little discouraged.

Now accepting words of encouragement. Go.

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Bad Food = Bad Workout

April 3rd, 2010

Neither my husband nor I had to work on Friday. We had a lovely morning together, walking around our neighborhood to run some errands and get breakfast.

A BIG breakfast.

Too much food. Delicious, greasy food. Enough food to hold us over until about 3pm. When we went out for lunch.

A BIG lunch.

Too much food. Delicious, salty food. Enough food to hold us over until after 9pm. You know you ate too much for lunch when you’re still not hungry at 9pm…

Regardless of my cuisine carelessness, I had to run 5 miles that day. I was waiting for the food to settle before going out, but at 7, I had to reevaluate that plan, as the day’s food was still churning and the sun was preparing to go down. So I went out anyway.

It was a terrible run. I felt bloated and gross the entire time. I had a cramp for the first 3 miles. My overall pace was more than a minute slower than usual. I wanted it to end before it even started.

Learn from my mistakes, folks: Bad food = Bad workout.

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Chilled to the Bone

March 28th, 2010

No beating around the bush: Today I successfully ran 8.5 miles :)

I went back to the park I ran in yesterday and did the 2-mile-long trail twice (out & back, out & back), plus a little extra around the parking lot for that extra half a mile. It was so flat – I was so happy.

Except that it rained… the entire time. It started out as just more than a sprinkle and then got steadily more intense. And it was cold. There weren’t many people out today, but there were a few, and you could tell by looking at them they were all super hard core. You know – like me.

My husband was among those super hard core folks. He’s not big into running (especially 8.5 miles!) but he enjoys a good bike ride, so he took his bike. He would ride off on one of the side trails and then come back to see where I was and give me some encouragement. Let me tell you: It was so nice to see his smiling face coming at me every half-mile or so. He has a bell on his bike, too, so often I’d hear a bell ringing behind me and I knew I’d soon be greeted by him. So nice!

After a while, he rode beside me and we talked. It was a great way to spend a morning. Except for that darn, cold rain.

About halfway into my run I had to go to the bathroom. Like, wouldn’t make it the entire way if I didn’t go. Luckily there were porta-potties dotted along the trail. I reluctantly (for a multitude of reasons…) used one and learned how incredibly difficult it is to get wet Tek gear back into place after taking it off. (A lesson also learned today by fellow blogger, Krissie, who ran her first half marathon this morning! Woo hoo!)

I also went through 7 tissues. And when I say “went through” I mean that I used each of them at least three times. So gross. At least I could imagine they were only wet from the rain, though!

Besides the 2 minutes in the bathroom, I ran the entire thing without too much difficulty (total time: approximately 98 minutes). In fact, most of the discomfort came when I stopped running. I was so very cold. I brought a sweatshirt to change into in the car, and exchanged my socks and sneakers (which were soaked from about the 5th step to the end) for flip flops, but I still had so many wet clothes on that I couldn’t warm up. Until I took a very hot shower after getting home. At least I didn’t have to operate a motor vehicle while so cold; my husband handled that. Such a good husband!

The other post-run difficulty is that of soreness. Considering I was sore before starting, though, I can’t say that I’m surprised.

But I ran 8.5 miles today! It’s worth every sore muscle I have to be able to say that.

Next week: 9!

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J-Roc for The Win!

March 27th, 2010

At the conclusion of my scheduled runs this week, I had run just over 22 miles. Saturday is a long Kung Fu day (8:30 – 11, with a lot of breaks), but it didn’t stop there: My old running buddy, J-Roc, was finally ready to run again following his winter hiatus, so of course I jumped at the chance!

Prior to this afternoon, J-Roc hadn’t run since we ran the ZooZilla 5k together back in October. He often gets pain in his ankles and feet when he runs – even with the new running shoes. He decided to get out there again and see what happened.

I didn’t think it would be a long run since he hasn’t run in roughly 5 months, and the furthest he had run before that was 5k. So even though it was my ‘rest day’ for running, I was more than happy to run with him.

We went to a park and ran the 2-mile trail… there and back. It was fabulous! It’s been a while since I ran for fun, rather than for training. And J-Roc ran the entire thing! I’m still amazed, really. He’s still got it :)

The trail was flat (a rarity in this city!) so I’m planning on going back for my 8.5 tomorrow. After last week’s struggles, I need to successfully complete that run without walking, and if it’s flat, I don’t think it will be a problem.

Hopefully, J-Roc won’t be in pain tomorrow so we can run together regularly again. It’s so different running with someone – better!

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