I thought spring was here for good. Nope. Wrong. All our grass appeared over the weekend and then it snowed making our roof, deck, yard, driveway, and work parking lot covered in a heavy snow mess. Oh the nerve. And since I'm not a fan of running in the cold or on icy streets, I headed back to the treadmill. I am just longing to run in 80 degree weather with the sun blasting it's hot rays down on me (side note: I always wear sunscreen now when outside in the summertime. My wonderful sister-in-law is a dermatologist and supplies us with never ending amounts of sunscreen. I even have one bottle that is 85 SPF. It took her a while to convince me that being pale was better than having a nice summer glow, but I know in 30 years I will appreciate her perseverance with me.).
Last night, I went to the gym at 8 PM. I had just put my son down for the night, sat down to catch up on all things important on my iPhone (Facebook and Iowa Girl Eats), and nearly fell asleep for the night. Get up and get to the gym. Do it. Yawn. Just get up and go change. Yawwwwn. One, two, three... okay, I'm up. I put on my tempos and that red shirt that I'm apparently addicted to running in lately. For me, getting dressed for the gym is quite possibly the hardest part of the workout. Just getting the motivation to take the first step is the hardest. But once I'm dressed I'm good to go.
I started my run out at a nice 5.5 mph. I can tell my lungs and legs are getting in better shape because bumping the speed up to 6.0 doesn't feel taxing anymore. I love feeling like I'm improving. Before I knew it, I was at one mile. Then two. I started to get bored and honestly, I was pretty tired after four of the five days of work this week. I started speeding up. I made it all the way to 8.5 mph. At first I thought I couldn't control my legs, but all was okay.
When my lungs started to burn, and it didn't take that long, I had a realization: the soccer season starts in just over a month. I have to be able to run as fast as I possibly can for an entire game in about 6 weeks. Four years ago, I joined a women's soccer team. I joined with my friend who also ran the half-marathon. At the time, the team consisted of women just out of high school, women the same age as my mom, and all of us in between. I hadn't even touched a soccer ball since the last game I played my senior year of high school, so starting to play in my mid-20's was a little difficult. I forgot how fast-paced soccer was and how much sprinting was involved. I played for two summers, took one off because I was very pregnant, took last summer off because, well, I just couldn't get it together with nursing, working, mothering... yeah, you read that post... but this summer I will make my return.
My position of choice is right defender. I played defense in high school and never thought of myself as anything else. The second summer playing soccer, I had the chance to try playing mid-field and forward. Now those positions are exciting! I finally scored my first goal and had a celebratory DQ treat afterwards with my biggest fan, my husband. Two of my favorite things about soccer: speed and aggressive play. I prefer sprints over distance and I love running down an opponent. I love having green grass and mud smashed into my shin guards and scrapes on my knees at the end of the game. (To my future opponents: Please don't throw elbows until after Memorial Day weekend... I can't get bruises before my matron of honor duties are over. My sister will thank you. Thanks!) I haven't played in two years and I'm a little nervous about my ability to compete. Let's just make one thing clear... we're considered recreational, but we're serious competitors! Do not mess with "Club America." I want to do well. I want to be able to run down those opponents on game one and finish the game without puking behind the goal post.
I ran at 8.5 for a couple of 45 second stretches. On my second stretch, suddenly my legs stopped moving, but I thought I was still running. Um, what's going on? Am I passing out right now? Am I about to be that girl who falls flat on her face because she had the treadmill going faster than she could handle? Oh dear, I don't want a treadmill burn on my face! Then I looked down. I had accidentally pulled the emergency stop cord, which leads me to believe that I must've looked like a complete idiot with flailing arms right before pulling the cord. I had NO idea that the cord came out. After a good laugh, I restarted the machine and did two more 45 second sprints.
I finished up completely dripping in sweat. Awesome run. I am convinced that with a few more sprint training runs, I will be right on my way to scoring my second goal this summer. Bring on the DQ lemon lime arctic rush!
Friday, March 25, 2011
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Holy Hills
Spring!!!! Today I ran to breathe and experience the fresh outside spring air! I love it!! Was this the loooongest winter on record? I think it might have been... according to me at least. The sunshine was drawing me outside, so as soon as my son went down for a nap, I headed to the great outdoors hoping to accomplish a good run. And, I think I did.
My husband, son and I moved into this neighborhood about 7 months ago and I didn't run outside very much before the first snowfall last year. I wasn't quite sure where to run today and where I needed to go to get a few miles in. Some of you are thinking "map it out ahead of time." Ha. Okay. Right. Actually, that is what I should do. We only moved roughly 7 miles from where we used to live (city to suburb), so I plan to go back to those running routes hopefully once a week this summer. Those were my half marathon training routes. Loved them. Huge, mature trees, old mansions, the river, the Minneapolis skyline only a few miles off in the distance. It was the best.
Today's run was suburban residential. I passed about 100 mailboxes, mini-vans plastered with the area's school decals whizzed by me and a friendly neighbor was walking his dog. It was different, but good. I ran through a new development behind our neighborhood. The houses are what we like to call "the next step up" and maybe someday we can buy one of them. Maybe. I turned a corner and exited the new development. The next neighborhood was about 20 steps up from "the next step up." Wow. I will never have the need for a 5,000 square foot home and I would never want to be responsible for maintaining the cleanliness of a home that big. But they're fun to look at. And imagine the Christmas parties you could host!
I left that neighborhood as a sparkling BMW entered the street. And then... there it was. A huge hill.
I was glad, but annoyed at the same time. Glad because I knew I needed to push my running self as this was my first outdoor run in MONTHS and we all know I always leave the incline on the treadmill at a nice round zero. I was annoyed because I knew it was be painful. I huffed and puffed up the hill. I got to the top. Woohoo. When I got up there, the hill went way back down to the end of the street. My plan was to run all the way down and then loop back on the same path all the way back home. Okay, back up the hill. I can do it. And enter a horrible, horrible wind. Cold, cold wind. I hate running in cold weather, so when earlier the wind was to my back and the sun was shining down on my very pale skin, it felt like a warm May or June day outside. And then I turned into the wind. Bleh. I quickly put myself in the mindset that the more hills I run up and the stronger the wind is in my face, the easier the hills will feel on the next run and the wind won't seem as strong.
I did it. I ran my cold legs back up that hill and all the way home. If I had to guess, I'd say it was about 2.5 miles. I may get around to checking it out online, but I think this run was more about putting my outdoor legs back on and getting up those hills. Good day in the neighborhood.
My husband, son and I moved into this neighborhood about 7 months ago and I didn't run outside very much before the first snowfall last year. I wasn't quite sure where to run today and where I needed to go to get a few miles in. Some of you are thinking "map it out ahead of time." Ha. Okay. Right. Actually, that is what I should do. We only moved roughly 7 miles from where we used to live (city to suburb), so I plan to go back to those running routes hopefully once a week this summer. Those were my half marathon training routes. Loved them. Huge, mature trees, old mansions, the river, the Minneapolis skyline only a few miles off in the distance. It was the best.
Today's run was suburban residential. I passed about 100 mailboxes, mini-vans plastered with the area's school decals whizzed by me and a friendly neighbor was walking his dog. It was different, but good. I ran through a new development behind our neighborhood. The houses are what we like to call "the next step up" and maybe someday we can buy one of them. Maybe. I turned a corner and exited the new development. The next neighborhood was about 20 steps up from "the next step up." Wow. I will never have the need for a 5,000 square foot home and I would never want to be responsible for maintaining the cleanliness of a home that big. But they're fun to look at. And imagine the Christmas parties you could host!
I left that neighborhood as a sparkling BMW entered the street. And then... there it was. A huge hill.
I was glad, but annoyed at the same time. Glad because I knew I needed to push my running self as this was my first outdoor run in MONTHS and we all know I always leave the incline on the treadmill at a nice round zero. I was annoyed because I knew it was be painful. I huffed and puffed up the hill. I got to the top. Woohoo. When I got up there, the hill went way back down to the end of the street. My plan was to run all the way down and then loop back on the same path all the way back home. Okay, back up the hill. I can do it. And enter a horrible, horrible wind. Cold, cold wind. I hate running in cold weather, so when earlier the wind was to my back and the sun was shining down on my very pale skin, it felt like a warm May or June day outside. And then I turned into the wind. Bleh. I quickly put myself in the mindset that the more hills I run up and the stronger the wind is in my face, the easier the hills will feel on the next run and the wind won't seem as strong.
I did it. I ran my cold legs back up that hill and all the way home. If I had to guess, I'd say it was about 2.5 miles. I may get around to checking it out online, but I think this run was more about putting my outdoor legs back on and getting up those hills. Good day in the neighborhood.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Or Not
Well, crap. I ran 4 miles. Not 5. I tried my hardest. I think. I could really go on and on with excuses... we left work later than normal, I couldn't stop kissing my baby's adorable cheeks and that delayed me getting to the gym, I had to get home on time.... but I won't go there. I should be proud of 4 miles and I am. It's just a little annoying that I wanted to do five and didn't get there. Next time.
The run tonight felt good though. I hopped on one of the few treadmills left in the entire cardio area. I wouldn't say that I really had the choice machine. Everyone in the south metro goes to the gym at 5:45. I knew this, but I still like going at this time of day - just after work, not enough time to get cozy and stuck at home, but early enough to get home and relax before bed. I will not tell you what time I go to bed though. It's too embarrassing.
On my left was an older fellow drenched in sweat. On my right was a young guy who was also drenched in sweat. His what I assume to be girlfriend came up and talked with him for a bit similar to how I go and bug my husband while he's working out sometimes. Yes, ladies, he is mine. Back off. Heh heh. In front of me was this crazy guy. He was doing sprint intervals like a mad man. I have to think he was training for an upcoming soccer season (me too... more on that later!) the way he was working the speedometer. The highest I saw it go - yes, of course I was looking - was 11.1 mph. Just seeing that number took my breath away. I was hoping nobody looked at mine and saw 5.5 and laughed hysterically at my slow speed, but incredibly sweaty shirt. I blame the extra sweat on a packed gym. The hot, sticky air just seems to hang there. Ish.
Eventually, young sweaty guy on my right left and a girl about my age took his place. She was wearing a hot pink top and started her run pretty fast. She didn't stop. She kept going. Oh man, now I have to keep going too. I was so curious to see how fast she was running. I finally got the nerve to glance just long enough to see her speed: 6.3 mph. Oh. Come. On! Are you serious? Is everyone going faster than me? I think I saw her glance over at my treadmill too. I wanted to turn to her and say, "Yes, 5.5. You're better than me. Go away." But just as my bad attitude almost got the best of me, she quit! When she left briefly to get a cleaning cloth to wipe down the treadmill, I looked again to see how far she went. 3.77 miles. I was on 3.97. And then I went to 4. YES! I win! I win!
I am ridiculous. I know this. But these are my distractions. Maybe if she hadn't stopped I would have run 5. No, I'll quit blaming all these other people. I'll get 5 sooner or later.
The run tonight felt good though. I hopped on one of the few treadmills left in the entire cardio area. I wouldn't say that I really had the choice machine. Everyone in the south metro goes to the gym at 5:45. I knew this, but I still like going at this time of day - just after work, not enough time to get cozy and stuck at home, but early enough to get home and relax before bed. I will not tell you what time I go to bed though. It's too embarrassing.
On my left was an older fellow drenched in sweat. On my right was a young guy who was also drenched in sweat. His what I assume to be girlfriend came up and talked with him for a bit similar to how I go and bug my husband while he's working out sometimes. Yes, ladies, he is mine. Back off. Heh heh. In front of me was this crazy guy. He was doing sprint intervals like a mad man. I have to think he was training for an upcoming soccer season (me too... more on that later!) the way he was working the speedometer. The highest I saw it go - yes, of course I was looking - was 11.1 mph. Just seeing that number took my breath away. I was hoping nobody looked at mine and saw 5.5 and laughed hysterically at my slow speed, but incredibly sweaty shirt. I blame the extra sweat on a packed gym. The hot, sticky air just seems to hang there. Ish.
Eventually, young sweaty guy on my right left and a girl about my age took his place. She was wearing a hot pink top and started her run pretty fast. She didn't stop. She kept going. Oh man, now I have to keep going too. I was so curious to see how fast she was running. I finally got the nerve to glance just long enough to see her speed: 6.3 mph. Oh. Come. On! Are you serious? Is everyone going faster than me? I think I saw her glance over at my treadmill too. I wanted to turn to her and say, "Yes, 5.5. You're better than me. Go away." But just as my bad attitude almost got the best of me, she quit! When she left briefly to get a cleaning cloth to wipe down the treadmill, I looked again to see how far she went. 3.77 miles. I was on 3.97. And then I went to 4. YES! I win! I win!
I am ridiculous. I know this. But these are my distractions. Maybe if she hadn't stopped I would have run 5. No, I'll quit blaming all these other people. I'll get 5 sooner or later.
Five
The workday is almost over, although today is dragging by so slowly that it feels like it should have ended hours ago. That's okay though. After we leave work to pick up our son from daycare, I'm hitting the gym. Five miles. It'll be the most busy time of day, but I'm motivated right now. I even rolled down my socks so my sock lines fade away by the time I get there and wear my Nike tempo shorts (hmm... which pair: black and hot pink, black and white, or black and teal?). I love these shorts! I even play soccer in them. Love them. And I'm not so much a shorts person in general.
Anyway, I'll let you know how it goes. I have to be home at a certain time so that my husband can leave for his playoff basketball game. I have no choice but to keep the run going at a good pace tonight.
Anyway, I'll let you know how it goes. I have to be home at a certain time so that my husband can leave for his playoff basketball game. I have no choice but to keep the run going at a good pace tonight.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Work + Play + Sleep... oh and then run!
Fridays come and I think "ahhhhh the weekend is finally here!" Sigh of relief. But then I remember that all week long while my husband I were working at our day jobs, the rest of our life goes on the backburner. It is really challenging to be a mom and work full-time. As much as I hated my job the weeks following my return from maternity leave, I've come to appreciate the adult interaction and love the education our son is receiving at his daycare center.
I hated my job after returning to work for a few reasons. First, 2 weeks before I actually gave birth (I worked up until the night I went into labor... I'm so sorry to all my co-workers who had to look at my extremely swollen face those last couple weeks... uff dah), my department announced a major reorganization. I was so disappointed when I found out that everything about my job as I knew it would change. I was feeling confident in my role on my team and a shake-up was not what a 38 week swollen-faced pregnant lady wanted. So, the next day, my new boss held a meeting to do introductions. Mine went a little something like this:
Hello, I'm Brianna. I'm having a baby in two weeks... hopefully sooner... and I've never done this type of work before.
I think I came across less than pleasant. Fortunately, I wasn't the only pregnant person on the team, so I had sympathy coming from the other girl at least. My first week back to work after maternity leave was a little rocky. I returned to a new director, a new manager, a new team where I only knew one person (the other pregnant girl actually and she was still on maternity leave for another couple weeks after me! How dare she!), and I also knew absolutely nothing about the type of work I'd be doing. I had just dropped my son off at daycare for the first time and this shake-up is what I had to return to. I hated it.
It has been a little over a year since that first day back. I have a much different attitude towards my job now. Working outside the home gives me an opportunity to continue challenging myself professionally, but it also allows my son to have a wonderful learning experience at daycare. He started at 13 weeks old dressed in little button-up jammies and drank many, many ounces of pumped breast milk throughout the day. Now at 16 months, he has group time, eats lunch with the other kids at a table, sleeps on a cot, eats with a spoon, dances, reorganizes the furniture, waves goodbye to his friends when we pick him up in the afternoon and makes us the cutest little gifts for all holidays. I love it. He's 16 months old and he has a room full of little friends. Adorable.
The challenge comes when we work all day, eat dinner, play for an hour, and then put the little guy to bed for the night. He plays so hard all day that he crashes at 7. He'll spin in circles for 15 minutes laughing his head off and then WAHHHH...... cranky. Time for bed. Lights out until 5 AM. There is no time for anything else. None. Work. Play. Sleep. Repeat. Five times. Friday... ahhhhh, sigh of relief. But not really.
Weekend: laundry laundry laundry, sweep, vacuum, dishes, grocery shop, see family, see friends, reconnect with my husband, get a haircut, get the oil changed, RUN.
It is ridiculously hard for me to find time to workout. I only have one kid. It should be easy, right? I know people who have 7 kids who find time to run. Get it together and just go do it. Your life isn't that insane. That's what I have to tell myself. But it feels insane sometimes.
I had the chance to go run tonight. It's Sunday night at 6:45 PM. Our evening opened up last minute and I asked my husband if he'd put the little guy to bed so I could go to the gym. He always says yes. I changed into my new knee-length running pants and a t-shirt (the same red t-shirt from that 4 mile run). On the 10 minute drive over the gym through the snow, I went back and forth between wanting to do another longer run or do a fast run and get the whole thing overwith. I still had to grocery shop after the gym. It wasn't until I got on the treadmill until I decided to do a fast 2 mile run.
This run kind of sucked. I'm not going to lie. I don't think I was totally mentally prepared for it and I had left my iPod at home. All I had was my phone, so I listened to some random Pandora station that didn't really do it for me. My feet kind of hurt and so did my calves. My lungs felt like they were working pretty hard, but not because I was really pushing myself. They were screaming to have me quit. I got to 1.55 miles and I turned the speed up to 6.5, which I will remind you is fast for me. Not an all-out sprint, but pretty fast. I ran for a minute and thought "holy crap, I'm going to die... I want to stop." I didn't. Thirty more seconds. I did it. Thirty more seconds. Done. Fifteen seconds. 1.85 miles. Seriously? Already? Nice. Okay, 30 more seconds. Whew... dripping sweat here. I hope the lady behind me is gone now because I probably look really awkward right about now. 1.95 miles. I'm so going to get to 2 miles. I'm. Almost. There. YES! 2 miles! Cooldown.
My run completely turned around. I was just not into the run at first, but finishing strong totally made my night. I left and headed over to Cub to grocery shop at 8 PM. I felt good... hungry, but good. I needed that time to just decompress from the busy weekend. Sure, I was doing my weekend chore (I secretly like grocery shopping. I just wish I could go not on the weekend or in the evening when so many others are there too.), but the run and being out alone kind of helps prep me for the week. I have my meals planned out and have enough pineapple to keep my son happy all week. Favorite food of all time.
Random post. I fit the run in this weekend among everything else on the to-do list. I needed it. And it felt great.
I hated my job after returning to work for a few reasons. First, 2 weeks before I actually gave birth (I worked up until the night I went into labor... I'm so sorry to all my co-workers who had to look at my extremely swollen face those last couple weeks... uff dah), my department announced a major reorganization. I was so disappointed when I found out that everything about my job as I knew it would change. I was feeling confident in my role on my team and a shake-up was not what a 38 week swollen-faced pregnant lady wanted. So, the next day, my new boss held a meeting to do introductions. Mine went a little something like this:
Hello, I'm Brianna. I'm having a baby in two weeks... hopefully sooner... and I've never done this type of work before.
I think I came across less than pleasant. Fortunately, I wasn't the only pregnant person on the team, so I had sympathy coming from the other girl at least. My first week back to work after maternity leave was a little rocky. I returned to a new director, a new manager, a new team where I only knew one person (the other pregnant girl actually and she was still on maternity leave for another couple weeks after me! How dare she!), and I also knew absolutely nothing about the type of work I'd be doing. I had just dropped my son off at daycare for the first time and this shake-up is what I had to return to. I hated it.
It has been a little over a year since that first day back. I have a much different attitude towards my job now. Working outside the home gives me an opportunity to continue challenging myself professionally, but it also allows my son to have a wonderful learning experience at daycare. He started at 13 weeks old dressed in little button-up jammies and drank many, many ounces of pumped breast milk throughout the day. Now at 16 months, he has group time, eats lunch with the other kids at a table, sleeps on a cot, eats with a spoon, dances, reorganizes the furniture, waves goodbye to his friends when we pick him up in the afternoon and makes us the cutest little gifts for all holidays. I love it. He's 16 months old and he has a room full of little friends. Adorable.
The challenge comes when we work all day, eat dinner, play for an hour, and then put the little guy to bed for the night. He plays so hard all day that he crashes at 7. He'll spin in circles for 15 minutes laughing his head off and then WAHHHH...... cranky. Time for bed. Lights out until 5 AM. There is no time for anything else. None. Work. Play. Sleep. Repeat. Five times. Friday... ahhhhh, sigh of relief. But not really.
Weekend: laundry laundry laundry, sweep, vacuum, dishes, grocery shop, see family, see friends, reconnect with my husband, get a haircut, get the oil changed, RUN.
It is ridiculously hard for me to find time to workout. I only have one kid. It should be easy, right? I know people who have 7 kids who find time to run. Get it together and just go do it. Your life isn't that insane. That's what I have to tell myself. But it feels insane sometimes.
I had the chance to go run tonight. It's Sunday night at 6:45 PM. Our evening opened up last minute and I asked my husband if he'd put the little guy to bed so I could go to the gym. He always says yes. I changed into my new knee-length running pants and a t-shirt (the same red t-shirt from that 4 mile run). On the 10 minute drive over the gym through the snow, I went back and forth between wanting to do another longer run or do a fast run and get the whole thing overwith. I still had to grocery shop after the gym. It wasn't until I got on the treadmill until I decided to do a fast 2 mile run.
This run kind of sucked. I'm not going to lie. I don't think I was totally mentally prepared for it and I had left my iPod at home. All I had was my phone, so I listened to some random Pandora station that didn't really do it for me. My feet kind of hurt and so did my calves. My lungs felt like they were working pretty hard, but not because I was really pushing myself. They were screaming to have me quit. I got to 1.55 miles and I turned the speed up to 6.5, which I will remind you is fast for me. Not an all-out sprint, but pretty fast. I ran for a minute and thought "holy crap, I'm going to die... I want to stop." I didn't. Thirty more seconds. I did it. Thirty more seconds. Done. Fifteen seconds. 1.85 miles. Seriously? Already? Nice. Okay, 30 more seconds. Whew... dripping sweat here. I hope the lady behind me is gone now because I probably look really awkward right about now. 1.95 miles. I'm so going to get to 2 miles. I'm. Almost. There. YES! 2 miles! Cooldown.
My run completely turned around. I was just not into the run at first, but finishing strong totally made my night. I left and headed over to Cub to grocery shop at 8 PM. I felt good... hungry, but good. I needed that time to just decompress from the busy weekend. Sure, I was doing my weekend chore (I secretly like grocery shopping. I just wish I could go not on the weekend or in the evening when so many others are there too.), but the run and being out alone kind of helps prep me for the week. I have my meals planned out and have enough pineapple to keep my son happy all week. Favorite food of all time.
Random post. I fit the run in this weekend among everything else on the to-do list. I needed it. And it felt great.
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