Filed under: The Race, Training Runs | Tags: days off, dreams, gu, long run, marathon, nerves, Rest Days, running, shoes, short run, Taper
I purchased new shorts and a lovely blue lightweight tech shirt for the race. I tried the shorts out on my last “long” run – eight miles – and, disappointingly, they rode up a little. Most shorts do that when I run, but with a predicted temperature of seventy-three degrees (most runners dress for temperatures twenty degrees warmer than the actual, so do the math on that one), I’m going to go with my capris. I don’t want to be picking cloth away from myself for nearly five hours.
My Asics should be broken in enough. I was thinking of using my Guides, but I’ve done my last three weeks of running in these shoes, so Asics it will be.
I’m having anxiety dreams: I fly to the wrong city. I wake up too late. I get injured at the start of the course. I’ve forgotten my running sneakers.
Lists are beginning to form in my mind: Gu packets. Shoes and clothes. Body glide. Ibuprofen. Socks. Ponytail holders. Headband. (I can’t find my stupid headband!) Course map for friends and family. Watch. Sunblock. Camera.
There are other things I can’t control that I must make myself stop worrying about. Weather’s a big one. I haven’t run in hot weather at all. Worse than that, though, is the idea of a race cancellation. The ten-day weather forecast predicts scattered thundershowers all weekend. I’ve seen those Midwestern storms, and I’ve seen that lightning. It’s out of my hands, I know, but please, please let there be decent weather. I don’t know what I would do if these nine months were all for nothing.
I’ve gotten myself worked up, though, so it’s time to calm down. That’s what the Taper is for: recovery, relaxation, mental preparation. You hardly run, you eat a lot, you try not to obsess.
Six days.
Filed under: Rest Days | Tags: apparel, days off, good advice, injuries, long run, nerves, Rest Days, running, winter
URD stands for Unscheduled Rest Day, which is what today is. While most of the aches and pains from the 17-miler quickly dissipated, my heel flared up in a fury and did not cease hurting until today. I took it easy this week, though I did do the scheduled track intervals on Wednesday. I cross-trained hard on Tuesday and Friday, did an easy 6.5-miler on the treadmill on Thursday, and took yesterday as my scheduled rest day. This morning, my heel felt blessedly fine, and it still feels fine even after a full work day. The plan was to run for about two and a half hours tonight, not watching the miles, just getting in the time at an easy pace. It was Mandy’s suggestion, and I think it was a good one.
I actually feel really good about taking off today, though. I’ve been pushing myself extremely hard, and to be honest, I’ve been quite frightened this week that I overdid it already. Today is the first day I’ve felt good and rested in quite a while, so I’m going to take advantage of that, catch up on a few chores, and wake up fresh tomorrow.
I also bit the bullet and bought a running jacket. With the weather in the single digits, even two base layers and a pullover aren’t cutting it. It kinda hurt my wallet, but at least I’ll have no excuse to press the snooze button tomorrow morning.
Filed under: Dealing, Rest Days, Training Runs | Tags: days off, off day, Rest Days, running, sick
…I’ll go for more than a month without getting sick or injured. Sadly, I was struck down with my annual Fall head cold shortly after my hilly jaunt in DC. It took all of my energy just to play my instrument, and running was out of the question. I was woozy, sniffly, drippy, coughy…really, just a big pile of Gross.
I’m visiting my parents between performances, and I’m finally feeling up to running again. Woke up at 11 AM, ate a big bowl of oatmeal with milk, and am looking forward to running four or five miles before the day is out. Here’s hoping it goes well.
Filed under: Inspiration, Rest Days, Training Runs | Tags: healing, Inspiration, marathon, Rest Days, running
Look, this link is amazing:
Not only did this guy run his first marathon to heal himself, but he raised money to heal others, as well. There are a lot of people running for charity out there. Perhaps I should jump on this excellent bandwagon. I have almost nine months until the Pig; think how much dough I could raise!
If you haven’t noticed, today was another Rest Day. Technically, I should have done some crosstraining, but my stupid bike seat is stuck down, and the last time I took it for a ride, I came back with disturbingly uncomfortable knees. Eventually I would like to add swimming to the regime, but that will require a new bathingsuit and a gym membership. That being said, it’s sort of do-what-you-can time around here on the non-running days.
Tomorrow is my last four-miler. Next week, the “short runs” become fivers, and Saturday morning will bring seven miles and a number of hills. Bring on the Gatoraide.
Filed under: Dealing, Rest Days | Tags: beginners, cross country, days off, good advice, healing, injuries, memories, Rest Days, Runners' World, running, sadness, struggle
I’ve been told that runners look forward to rest days. They can prop themselves up on the couch and give their tired feet a break. And best of all, it’s guilt-free. A six-mile run burns about 600 calories, give or take, depending on the difficulty of the run.
Furthermore, rest days are vital to the beginning runner’s health. Your muscles need time to build their strength, and if the body hasn’t been conditioned to the constant impact of knees to feet to asphalt, it can literally fall apart.
When I first started running longer distances, about three years ago, I got so excited about what I thought my body could do that I upped my mileage from one to 6.5 in a matter of four weeks. I shouldn’t have been surprised when a visit to the doctor confirmed an injured Achilles tendon. I stopped running for almost half a year. It was, pun intended, completely lame. (groan)
Anyway, the Rest Day. The rejuvenation day. The healing day. The day when muscles, torn and beat up from a hard week’s pounding, knit themselves together slowly, invisibly. For people with broken hearts, they’re the torture day.
I’ve already begun to look toward running as a means of escape. It’s weird, considering where I came from. When I was in the fifth grade, my mom signed me up, without asking me, for cross country. I freakin’ hated it. Sports like softball or martial arts I could understand, but running? It accomplished nothing! You do some crummy loop around a field and you end up right back where you started, except you’re sweating, sunburnt, and you feel like you’re going to hack up a lung. And if you were me in fifth grade, you’d also be the last one to cross the finish line, every single time, and you’d have a killer side stitch.
Why is it so totally different now? Even before he left, I began to find joy in running, in watching my body accomplish something almost superhuman. I liked watching my calf muscles turn into hard, sculpted hills beneath my skin. I loved that I could go distances, using only my legs, that most people used cars to cover. I loved the thrilling post-run rush. I loved the days when the wall broke, and I felt, in the cool joy of evening, as if I were flying.
But running’s also really, really hard. Not gonna lie. And perhaps it’s for this reason that I find rest days so difficult to get through. On workout days, I can replace emotional pain with physical exertion. Instead of “Get through the day,” it’s “Get to the next street sign. Made it. Get to the next water stop. Made it.” There’s something tangible to accomplish when you run, whereas there’s nothing tangible about getting through emotional trauma. There are no mile posts. No street signs. No water stops. No assigned route. And worst of all, there are obstacles everywhere, and you step into them all the time, without any warning. Memories. Photos you forgot to throw away. Big pits full of anger, fear, and doubt.
When I first started posting on the Runners’ World Beginner’s Forum, a wonderful guy named Brad, who began running for the same reason I’m running now, gave me this advice: One foot in front of the other. It’s still the best advice I’ve heard yet. So. You and I. Let’s get through this rest day, and all its ups and downs and in betweens, until we can run again tomorrow. One foot in front of the other.
