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.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
The Treadmill and I
So many people hate running on treadmills, but I don't mind it so much and I think the reason is pretty lame. I think it is easier than running outdoors. Physically. Not mentally. You agree? My husband hates the treadmill, but he's also a foot taller than me, which makes running on a treadmill difficult when your stride is loooong. He also says that he gets bored so fast and prefers to run outdoors. I can see his point. I have come up with all sorts of mind games to play while I run indoors and I'll list some of them below.
My most recent run earlier this week was on the treadmill at the gym. I'm itching to run outside, but that day, we were being smothered with 18 inches of brand new snow. All signs of spring went out the window and I realized the treadmill and I would be together a while longer. This was my second run in a week. I fell off the running... working out all together... bandwagon for a while and am getting back on.
My goal: 4 miles.
I was going to run 4 miles whether my legs, lungs and mind liked it or not. I tend to start runs at 5.5 with zero incline... nice and flat for this girl. I get 2 minutes in and I'm bored to death. I bump the speed up to 6.0, 6.5 and 7.0, but then I crash. I crash fast. I never get past 3 miles when I let my mind get the best of me. I needed to break the habit, so 4 miles it was. I turned on my iPod, put my water bottle in the holder, put my sweat towel on the right hand railing and off I went. I forced myself to keep the 5.5 speed for all 4 miles. Because I kept a nice, steady pace, I felt great when I finished... so much so that I went back to old habits and put the speed up to 7.0 (FAST in my book) and ran until my vision became slightly blurry and got to 4.15 miles. With a cooldown walk, I ended my workout at 4.33 miles and felt fantastic. I may have been dripping sweat and my face was probably as red as the red tshirt I was wearing, but as my husband often reminds me: you're at the gym - you're supposed to look like this! Plus, its a sign that I worked hard, which makes me feel good about the experience too.
The mind games I played with myself to accomplish these 4 miles:
1. Don't look at the mileage on the treadmill. I don't put towels over the numbers like some people do because I like to glance down every once in a while and see how I'm doing.
2. Keep an eye on my husband, who was in the weight room area the entire time I ran, and pretend he's been checking me out the entire time. I like to think he thinks I look good when I run. True or not, I'm sticking to this theory.
3. Don't think about running. My thoughts that day consisted of these things: grocery shopping list, picking up our son from daycare and how fun that is, what I was going to make for dinner, remembering how awesome I felt finishing the half marathon, what I would write on this blog and of course, the theory in number 2 above.
4. Push through 30 more seconds when you think you can't go one second further. If I can get past 30 more seconds, I can do another 30 seconds. When I run outside, I use street lights, signs, houses, trees, anything I can to say that if I can get to that spot, I pushed through. Pushing through gives me confidence and also builds my physical running ability, so win win!
5. Talk yourself up. I pushed past those 30 seconds over and over. Yes!!! I rock!! I don't care how well people are working out around me, but if I beat a goal or a challenge I put in front of myself, I let myself know how awesome I think that is. Positive reinforcement, people.
I had a great run that day. I felt energetic and happy afterwards. I did this 4 mile run to prove to myself that I can push past 3 miles again (I haven't run past 3 since the half last summer). It is a mental milestone for me. I did it! My legs, lungs and mind beat the treadmill.
My most recent run earlier this week was on the treadmill at the gym. I'm itching to run outside, but that day, we were being smothered with 18 inches of brand new snow. All signs of spring went out the window and I realized the treadmill and I would be together a while longer. This was my second run in a week. I fell off the running... working out all together... bandwagon for a while and am getting back on.
My goal: 4 miles.
I was going to run 4 miles whether my legs, lungs and mind liked it or not. I tend to start runs at 5.5 with zero incline... nice and flat for this girl. I get 2 minutes in and I'm bored to death. I bump the speed up to 6.0, 6.5 and 7.0, but then I crash. I crash fast. I never get past 3 miles when I let my mind get the best of me. I needed to break the habit, so 4 miles it was. I turned on my iPod, put my water bottle in the holder, put my sweat towel on the right hand railing and off I went. I forced myself to keep the 5.5 speed for all 4 miles. Because I kept a nice, steady pace, I felt great when I finished... so much so that I went back to old habits and put the speed up to 7.0 (FAST in my book) and ran until my vision became slightly blurry and got to 4.15 miles. With a cooldown walk, I ended my workout at 4.33 miles and felt fantastic. I may have been dripping sweat and my face was probably as red as the red tshirt I was wearing, but as my husband often reminds me: you're at the gym - you're supposed to look like this! Plus, its a sign that I worked hard, which makes me feel good about the experience too.
The mind games I played with myself to accomplish these 4 miles:
1. Don't look at the mileage on the treadmill. I don't put towels over the numbers like some people do because I like to glance down every once in a while and see how I'm doing.
2. Keep an eye on my husband, who was in the weight room area the entire time I ran, and pretend he's been checking me out the entire time. I like to think he thinks I look good when I run. True or not, I'm sticking to this theory.
3. Don't think about running. My thoughts that day consisted of these things: grocery shopping list, picking up our son from daycare and how fun that is, what I was going to make for dinner, remembering how awesome I felt finishing the half marathon, what I would write on this blog and of course, the theory in number 2 above.
4. Push through 30 more seconds when you think you can't go one second further. If I can get past 30 more seconds, I can do another 30 seconds. When I run outside, I use street lights, signs, houses, trees, anything I can to say that if I can get to that spot, I pushed through. Pushing through gives me confidence and also builds my physical running ability, so win win!
5. Talk yourself up. I pushed past those 30 seconds over and over. Yes!!! I rock!! I don't care how well people are working out around me, but if I beat a goal or a challenge I put in front of myself, I let myself know how awesome I think that is. Positive reinforcement, people.
I had a great run that day. I felt energetic and happy afterwards. I did this 4 mile run to prove to myself that I can push past 3 miles again (I haven't run past 3 since the half last summer). It is a mental milestone for me. I did it! My legs, lungs and mind beat the treadmill.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Half Marathon 2010
The run that brought sanity back to my life.
Aside from giving birth and adjusting to life as a new mother, training for the half marathon may have been the next most difficult thing I have done. It was about 3 months after I gave birth to my son and I felt like I was never going to get back in shape. I felt chubby and drained. Between multiple middle of the night feedings, returning to a full-time job after 12 weeks of maternity leave and trying to figure out how continuing my wife role fit in to this new life, I had no energy left to take care of my physical self. In those first couple months post-baby, I struggled to ever feel rested, rarely laughed at my husband's jokes and stressed myself out so much the first week back to work that I made myself vomit in a second floor bathroom. Life with a newborn.
Something had to change, so I started talking to a friend of mine who I thought would probably run a race with me since we had run one together in the past. I didn't want to run a 5K. It had to be something very, very challenging for myself. The half marathon. My friend was game almost immediately! The night came when we both agreed to sign up for the Minneapolis Half Marathon. We texted back and forth.
Me: Did you sign up yet?
Her: No, did you? I'm SO nervous.
Me: No, but I'm SO nervous too!
Her: Okay, I'm going to sign up right now. You better do it too!
Me: Okay, I'm going to sign up. Text me when you're done.
Her: Just signed up... WHAT HAVE WE DONE?!?!
Me: I don't know!!!! I'm freaking out!
Her: Bri, we can do this! We are so going to do this.
Me: We totally are! Okay, now I'm excited!
Her: Me too!
No joke. That's about how the text conversation went. We signed up and had roughly 4 months to train. The next week, I ran on the treadmill at the gym. I think I ran 1.5 miles. It was my second or third time running since having the baby and my doctor warned me about working out too much and not letting my body adjust slowly. My doctor was right and I injured my knee. Too much too soon. I was so disappointed that running 1.5 miles caused an injury. I'd rather run through an injury than lay on the couch recuperating, but I could barely walk up and down the stairs without being in pain, so it was necessary for me to take time off. Three weeks later, my knee finally felt normal again. I did a couple 1 mile runs for a week just to get the feel of it. No pain!
My friend and I tried for weeks to get together for training runs. We had a couple scheduled and something always came up. We never did one run together in preparation for this race. She ended up training with her husband and he signed up for the race himself, which I thought was a fantastic idea. If he's going to put the miles in, he might as well run the actual race! She would email me reports about their runs, what their times were and how she felt. I learned from her emails that they would be running a faster pace than me and as the race approached, we decided that on race day they would run at their pace and I would run mine. Sure, we signed up together, but finishing the race was both of our goals... however we got there.
Not only was it impossible to find time to run with my friend, but it was nearly impossible for me to find time to run all by myself. Being a working, nursing mom only allowed for short windows of time where I could sneak in a run. My baby was still nursing every 3-4 hours during this time and I had to nurse him (or pump... gahh... the pump) right before every run, be back, stretch, and shower up before it was time to nurse again. And then find something to eat before bed. I found it difficult and mentally challenging to add another activity into my day, but I knew I had to do it. Every time I came back from a run, I felt amazing. I could feel my body getting stronger. My stomach chub was diminishing. My knees felt solid.
I also felt amazing because it was time I needed to just be me. All day long, I played the role of mom, wife and employee. I didn't have a chance to just be me and be alone. I didn't have time in the day to listen to my own thoughts or to just not think at all. Nobody talked to me, nobody spit up on me, nobody emailed me. It was just me. A lot of new moms, and probably experienced moms, must feel this way too. There was so much on my plate, so many expectations and it was increasily stressful to juggle it all.
Most of my training runs took place along the Mississippi River in St. Paul in the spring and eventually the start of summer. The path curves and bends in all the right places. There are little hills here and there and there are houses that line the boulevard that I can only dream about living in someday. It was a great path to have my me time on. Usually, because of my son's nursing schedule, I ran right after work around 6 PM. My favorite time of day. You know how the sun turns orange as its coming down and makes everything look richer? Perfect. Running was my escape. Whether it was 1 mile or 7 miles.
As it turns out, 7 miles was the longest run I did in preparing for the race. Rookie mistake, right? For a few days before the race, I couldn't get it out of my head that 7 wasn't enough and that I wouldn't be able to finish the race. All along, my goal was to just finish. If I had to walk, I would walk, but I was going to finish that race. I kept telling myself that and the nerves subsided.
Race morning: My alarm went off at 5 AM. I got dressed in my favorite running gear, struggled to put down a small amount of oatmeal and then very much struggled to eat a banana. After a brief stomach ache, it was time to nurse the baby, get in the car and go downtown. Our son is an eater. He never refuses food and back when he was just nursing, it was the same. 6 AM: THE BABY WON'T NURSE! Panic mode sets in. He won't eat. He HAS to eat! The pump isn't ready to go. I have to wash pump parts. Hurry. Hurry. Hurrrrrrrry! Maybe the baby could sense my anxiety and wanted nothing to do with me. Thank God for electric pumps. I turned that sucker on high and we were driving downtown in no time.
Don't ask me how, but I found my friend and her husband among the crowd of thousands almost immediately after my husband dropped me off and gave me a good luck kiss. The race started and we were off! Within the first minute or so, I told my friends to just go on and enjoy the race. I was determined to set a good pace for myself from the start and I could tell I was going to be slower than them. We said goodbye and good luck. I put in my earbuds and started a podcast from The Parent Experiment. During training, I found that I ran longer distances better when listening to something I could engage in rather than listening to music. Try it sometime!
Miles 1, 2, 3 and 4 went by and when I saw mile markers for 5 and 6, I felt so happy. I was a little nervous about approaching mile markers 7 and 8 because I knew that would be the farthest I had run up to that point. At about 7.5 miles, I noticed a giant pink sign that said "Go Bri!" It was my mom, dad and sisters! They took pictures of me as I ran (Oh, those are beautiful...) and gave me high-fives as I passed by them. Both of my sisters had run half marathons before me, so it was encouraging to me to have them there cheering me on. My dad jumped onto the road and ran with me for about a half mile. He told me that my husband and baby boy were down the road a bit more. I was so excited! I finally spotted them and stopped to take a picture with my baby at mile 8. I felt determined and strong. My family being there to support me meant the world to me. I swallowed the raspberry energy goo after leaving my family and wow, that sat like a rock in my stomach. The feeling went away fast and I was going on miles 9, 10 and 11.
The end was near. I could taste it. I rounded a corner and in front of me was the most giant hill I have ever seen. It may have looked bigger that day than it would to me now. My knees were starting to burn, my tank top was sweaty and my two sports bras (nursing mom, remember) were starting to feel tight and misplaced. I started into a walk-run thing going up the hill and then all of the sudden, mile marker 13 appeared. I could hear the man's voice over the speakers announcing people's names as they crossed the finish line. Right then, I decided to run, not limp or jog, but run across the finish line. Right before I crossed, I heard someone call out my name. It was my friend and her husband! They had finished 15 minutes ahead of me and were waiting to see me cross. I think I managed to do my best wave while doing an all out sprint.
"Brianna from St. Paul... congratulations on finishing" the announcer man said.
I did it!!! I did it!!!! I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I saw my family waiting for me and a woman put a finisher's medal around my neck. That woman had no idea how much that medal meant to me. My family hugged me and congratulated me. I kissed my baby snoozing in his stroller. I ate orange slices and a sugar cookie.
I didn't do this race for anyone else, but myself. I finished a stronger, happier, more confident wife, mother, and employee (working out = more energy = higher productivity, right?!). But most of all, I found myself again. It was truly an amazing day. That afternoon, I told my family I wanted to run another half because I had such a fun time and gained so much from the experience.
I did it!
Aside from giving birth and adjusting to life as a new mother, training for the half marathon may have been the next most difficult thing I have done. It was about 3 months after I gave birth to my son and I felt like I was never going to get back in shape. I felt chubby and drained. Between multiple middle of the night feedings, returning to a full-time job after 12 weeks of maternity leave and trying to figure out how continuing my wife role fit in to this new life, I had no energy left to take care of my physical self. In those first couple months post-baby, I struggled to ever feel rested, rarely laughed at my husband's jokes and stressed myself out so much the first week back to work that I made myself vomit in a second floor bathroom. Life with a newborn.
Something had to change, so I started talking to a friend of mine who I thought would probably run a race with me since we had run one together in the past. I didn't want to run a 5K. It had to be something very, very challenging for myself. The half marathon. My friend was game almost immediately! The night came when we both agreed to sign up for the Minneapolis Half Marathon. We texted back and forth.
Me: Did you sign up yet?
Her: No, did you? I'm SO nervous.
Me: No, but I'm SO nervous too!
Her: Okay, I'm going to sign up right now. You better do it too!
Me: Okay, I'm going to sign up. Text me when you're done.
Her: Just signed up... WHAT HAVE WE DONE?!?!
Me: I don't know!!!! I'm freaking out!
Her: Bri, we can do this! We are so going to do this.
Me: We totally are! Okay, now I'm excited!
Her: Me too!
No joke. That's about how the text conversation went. We signed up and had roughly 4 months to train. The next week, I ran on the treadmill at the gym. I think I ran 1.5 miles. It was my second or third time running since having the baby and my doctor warned me about working out too much and not letting my body adjust slowly. My doctor was right and I injured my knee. Too much too soon. I was so disappointed that running 1.5 miles caused an injury. I'd rather run through an injury than lay on the couch recuperating, but I could barely walk up and down the stairs without being in pain, so it was necessary for me to take time off. Three weeks later, my knee finally felt normal again. I did a couple 1 mile runs for a week just to get the feel of it. No pain!
My friend and I tried for weeks to get together for training runs. We had a couple scheduled and something always came up. We never did one run together in preparation for this race. She ended up training with her husband and he signed up for the race himself, which I thought was a fantastic idea. If he's going to put the miles in, he might as well run the actual race! She would email me reports about their runs, what their times were and how she felt. I learned from her emails that they would be running a faster pace than me and as the race approached, we decided that on race day they would run at their pace and I would run mine. Sure, we signed up together, but finishing the race was both of our goals... however we got there.
Not only was it impossible to find time to run with my friend, but it was nearly impossible for me to find time to run all by myself. Being a working, nursing mom only allowed for short windows of time where I could sneak in a run. My baby was still nursing every 3-4 hours during this time and I had to nurse him (or pump... gahh... the pump) right before every run, be back, stretch, and shower up before it was time to nurse again. And then find something to eat before bed. I found it difficult and mentally challenging to add another activity into my day, but I knew I had to do it. Every time I came back from a run, I felt amazing. I could feel my body getting stronger. My stomach chub was diminishing. My knees felt solid.
I also felt amazing because it was time I needed to just be me. All day long, I played the role of mom, wife and employee. I didn't have a chance to just be me and be alone. I didn't have time in the day to listen to my own thoughts or to just not think at all. Nobody talked to me, nobody spit up on me, nobody emailed me. It was just me. A lot of new moms, and probably experienced moms, must feel this way too. There was so much on my plate, so many expectations and it was increasily stressful to juggle it all.
Most of my training runs took place along the Mississippi River in St. Paul in the spring and eventually the start of summer. The path curves and bends in all the right places. There are little hills here and there and there are houses that line the boulevard that I can only dream about living in someday. It was a great path to have my me time on. Usually, because of my son's nursing schedule, I ran right after work around 6 PM. My favorite time of day. You know how the sun turns orange as its coming down and makes everything look richer? Perfect. Running was my escape. Whether it was 1 mile or 7 miles.
As it turns out, 7 miles was the longest run I did in preparing for the race. Rookie mistake, right? For a few days before the race, I couldn't get it out of my head that 7 wasn't enough and that I wouldn't be able to finish the race. All along, my goal was to just finish. If I had to walk, I would walk, but I was going to finish that race. I kept telling myself that and the nerves subsided.
Race morning: My alarm went off at 5 AM. I got dressed in my favorite running gear, struggled to put down a small amount of oatmeal and then very much struggled to eat a banana. After a brief stomach ache, it was time to nurse the baby, get in the car and go downtown. Our son is an eater. He never refuses food and back when he was just nursing, it was the same. 6 AM: THE BABY WON'T NURSE! Panic mode sets in. He won't eat. He HAS to eat! The pump isn't ready to go. I have to wash pump parts. Hurry. Hurry. Hurrrrrrrry! Maybe the baby could sense my anxiety and wanted nothing to do with me. Thank God for electric pumps. I turned that sucker on high and we were driving downtown in no time.
Don't ask me how, but I found my friend and her husband among the crowd of thousands almost immediately after my husband dropped me off and gave me a good luck kiss. The race started and we were off! Within the first minute or so, I told my friends to just go on and enjoy the race. I was determined to set a good pace for myself from the start and I could tell I was going to be slower than them. We said goodbye and good luck. I put in my earbuds and started a podcast from The Parent Experiment. During training, I found that I ran longer distances better when listening to something I could engage in rather than listening to music. Try it sometime!
Miles 1, 2, 3 and 4 went by and when I saw mile markers for 5 and 6, I felt so happy. I was a little nervous about approaching mile markers 7 and 8 because I knew that would be the farthest I had run up to that point. At about 7.5 miles, I noticed a giant pink sign that said "Go Bri!" It was my mom, dad and sisters! They took pictures of me as I ran (Oh, those are beautiful...) and gave me high-fives as I passed by them. Both of my sisters had run half marathons before me, so it was encouraging to me to have them there cheering me on. My dad jumped onto the road and ran with me for about a half mile. He told me that my husband and baby boy were down the road a bit more. I was so excited! I finally spotted them and stopped to take a picture with my baby at mile 8. I felt determined and strong. My family being there to support me meant the world to me. I swallowed the raspberry energy goo after leaving my family and wow, that sat like a rock in my stomach. The feeling went away fast and I was going on miles 9, 10 and 11.
The end was near. I could taste it. I rounded a corner and in front of me was the most giant hill I have ever seen. It may have looked bigger that day than it would to me now. My knees were starting to burn, my tank top was sweaty and my two sports bras (nursing mom, remember) were starting to feel tight and misplaced. I started into a walk-run thing going up the hill and then all of the sudden, mile marker 13 appeared. I could hear the man's voice over the speakers announcing people's names as they crossed the finish line. Right then, I decided to run, not limp or jog, but run across the finish line. Right before I crossed, I heard someone call out my name. It was my friend and her husband! They had finished 15 minutes ahead of me and were waiting to see me cross. I think I managed to do my best wave while doing an all out sprint.
"Brianna from St. Paul... congratulations on finishing" the announcer man said.
I did it!!! I did it!!!! I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I saw my family waiting for me and a woman put a finisher's medal around my neck. That woman had no idea how much that medal meant to me. My family hugged me and congratulated me. I kissed my baby snoozing in his stroller. I ate orange slices and a sugar cookie.
I didn't do this race for anyone else, but myself. I finished a stronger, happier, more confident wife, mother, and employee (working out = more energy = higher productivity, right?!). But most of all, I found myself again. It was truly an amazing day. That afternoon, I told my family I wanted to run another half because I had such a fun time and gained so much from the experience.
I did it!
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