Running Report: Today I Learned A Valuable Lesson About Kegal Exercises

Mama ran a half today.  It was good.  I kept up the training after my last half-marathon, and decided to take the running a little more seriously the past five or so weeks.  By no coincidence, this timing correlated with the "cooler" metro DC temperatures.  The summer is just so dang hot and humid, I CANNOT get the training going very well June through August.   There is a fairly significant running community around here.  In the spring and fall, one has their choice of more than a half a dozen area road races, ranging in distance from a 5k to marathon.  On weekends, the trails and sidewalks are packed with runners preparing for their respective races, and I always tell myself, if these guys can do it, so can I.  But you know what?  I can't.  Not really.  Not in summer.  I hate every step in that icky, sticky humidity.  Nonetheless, I plodded along, and when the temperature dropped to 85 degrees in September, I welcomed it with some extra mileage and intensity. 

I did everything right.  I ate extra healthy this past week, including a pasta and veggie early dinner yesterday.  I jogged an easy three miles with a couple 100 meter strides, and hydrated all day.  I went to bed at a decent time, and woke up early enough to eat a little breakfast and get the blood pumping.  Drinking my coffee this morning, I felt pretty good.  I was aiming to run under 1:50; not my best ever, but I thought reasonable.  My plan was to use this race as a means to gauge a goal time for a spring marathon.  Mark dropped me off at the start, and I immediately made a beeline for the port-a-pots, and joined a long line of runners also waiting to empty the tank, so to speak.  Then it was time to head to the the starting line.  As the national anthem was sung, I realized that I again had to pee.  I think this happens to a lot of people.  When you're running have you ever noticed that once you get going, the initial urge to pee goes away?  I don't know where the pee goes.  Maybe you sweat it out.  Maybe it recirculates back into your kidneys.  I dunno, but it often goes away.  Or at least, it used to go away.  Post-pregnancy, this phenomonen has occured less and less.  Nonetheless, I was hoping for the magic pee removal this time, because I definitely didn't have time to go.

Well, as you've probably guessed by now, there was no such luck.  By the time I reached the first set of on-course port-a-pots 2.5 miles in, I had already peed a little (a lot) in my pants.  If you haven't had a baby, you probably think this is gross.  I know I certainly would.  But if you have had a baby, you know exactly what I'm talking about.  And if you are going to have a baby, this is just a little nugget to look forward to.  A little bit of bouncing causes a leak in the dam, and a lot of bouncing, especially combined with a raging river, really strains the flood gates.  Luckily, they hadn't completely broken, so I stopped to potty as soon as I could.  At one of three stalls.  Three.  Thousands of runners, the first potty stop, and there were three stalls.  Of course, I had to wait in a line. 

After taking care of business, I continued on course.  My running watchhad paused after I stopped moving and waited in line, but picked back up once I was back on pace.  The finish was tough and into the wind, but my unofficial time via Garmin watchwas 1:48:16.  My second best!  But, I knew I had lost some valuable time in line for the potty, and as it turns out, the diversion cost me more than three and a half minutes.  So, my official time was not as good as I had hoped, but I can say with certainty that running workouts won't be the only exercises I do as I prepare for my next race.

One of the few circumstances where it is acceptable to be drinking a beer before 9:30 AM

Typical

This morning Bitty and I spent an hour and a half and visited three stores in search of a rain cover for the jogging stroller.  I had to get my run in with the baby today--I slept too late to run by myself in the morning, and I have Jesus class this evening.  The gal at REI finally found one in the back room--the name-brand expensive one,of course, not the cheaper knock-off.Fifty-five bucks for that thing.  Ridic.  

We got home and after I fed Bitty some lunch I got the stroller out of the closet and took it outside, just as the clouds parted and the sky became dry.  I hate irony.

And you know I'm only taking Jesus classes so I can drink wine at church on Sundays.

Group Exercise

The weather has been in the low 90s more than usual this summer, and in Virginia that means it is niiiiiiiiiiiice.  I've been trying to get outside to run with the baby often, and the dogs have made it clear that they don't appreciate being left behind.

Taking pity upon them I decided to bring them along.  I think the story is best told in pictures, so I have taken the liberty of making a photographic recreation for your viewing pleasure.

Oh boy, it's a lovely day, I think I'll go for a run.  Let me get out the stroller. 

Can we come too?

 Ok, the dogs can come.  Let me get all situated....

And they push past me to run out the front door as I'm taking the baby out to the stroller.

Stop.  Wait.  Come back.



Immediately they began  sprinting around our "front yard," ready to accost any living creature in sight.  Our dogs do not listen to me whatsoever, so I lured them by telling them we were going to go bye-bye on a car ride.

Riley thinks his role is pressing the gas pedal

Falls for it every time



Before I know it I'm running with two dogs and a jogging stroller . . .

It was rough at first.....this one had the poop, the other one had to pee.  Then this one had to poop some more.  Eventually we fell into our stride.  But then Riley got tired.

Riley rode like this a mile and a half.  I am not joking.

So how is your summer going?

I'm Going To Complain and You're Going to Listen To It

I have a big pet peeve when it comes to running in the neighborhood. 

Before I even became pregnant, I used to stew over the moms with strollers who hogged the sidewalks. 

I'm talking about when there is oncoming traffic, I didn't expect people to have eyes in the back of their heads and see me approaching from behind during my runs.  I wondered if this would change when   I   became a mom pushing a stroller.

It hasn't.  Yesterday I was doing a pace workout when I came head on to a mom (and a dad) pushing a stoller---a BOB Revolution, identical to the one I have.  This mother made no attempt to slide one way or the other, she kept plowing down the middle of the sidewalk, clearly expecting me to move. 

And that's what really gets under my skin.  Just because you have a baby in a stroller does not give you sidewalk ownership.  It may seem easier for a single person to move onto the grass than for you, with your stroller, to slightly incovienence your trajectory, but you know what?  It's rude. 

I guess I don't mind as much when I'm out for a recovery jog, but when I'm running fast  trying to run my version of fast, I don't want to run in the grass because it's uneven and it throws off my workout and I've sprained my ankle too many times to risk the hidden bumps and pits in the landscaping.  I'm not saying you have to get totally out of the way, but at least make an attempt, for Christ's sake. It's the thought that counts.   Plus, SO MANY strollers are made for a little off roading, a little bumpy grass action isn't going to hurt a bit. 

I get the "it's a big stroller" thing.  I have a big-a** stroller too, remember?  And lately, I usually have two dogs with me.  And I have no issue moving on to my side of the sidewalk when someone is coming. 

So, since this is my blog, I'm going to give some unsolicited advice---when you're out strolling the neighborhood, move your ass over.  It's the polite thing to do. 

That is all. 

Probably Only Runners Will Care About This

"Are you still running that race next weekend?"  Mark asked me the weekend before Mother's Day.

"Yes, why wouldn't I?"  I replied.

"I haven't seen you run at all this week."

True.  I hadn't been out for a run since the last weekend, and when I did my "long run" of a mere 6.5 miles.  I remember when that used to be the weekday standard workout.  Those were the days.  I took this as a cue that I'd better lace up and forced myself to trudge through nine and a half.  It was raining.  Why, oh why, did I sign up for this?  Like New Coke or a Donovan McNabb Redskins jersey or french-rolled jeans...it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Race day arrived and five minutes before the gun went off I found myself staring at the starting line...in my car.  I planned to arrive an hour early, but Lucy, the big bad dog, was just so darn cuddly that morning that I couldn't get out of bed, and left 45 minutes later than I had intended.  So I put the pedal to the metal and 50 minutes before starting time I was just two and a half miles from the race.  I felt relieved--I really hate rushing around before a race, and now I would most definitely have enough time to get parked and settled.  Then, with the exit ramp in my sight, the traffic STOPPED.  Moving at a pace that rivals my grandma's, I eventually approached the crowd of runners, but still hadn't parked the car.  I was frustrated, but still not too anxious, because I thought surely all of these other people in this traffic would be late the begin the race, too.

Not so.   Apparently these people were all runners' chauffeurs, because I was the only one getting out of the car wearing a race number.  I hurried to the starting line and crossed just as the MC announced "One minute! The starting mat will be picked up in one minute!"

Phew, I made it across in time.  I looked around and I saw volunteers picking up cones and "no parking" signs from the road side and piling them into vehicles.  I was actually chasing the slow poke van that scoops up participants who cannot keep the minimum race pace (which happens to be 16 minute miles).  And then I had a terrible thought--what if the water aid stations would be packed up by the time I reached them?  The only thing that I was running with was the visor on my head and a shoe walletcontaining my car key on my laces.  I picked up the pace out of sheer panic.

I ran alone for the first mile before I encountered any other runners.  Well, they were walkers, actually.  It made me feel better that I wouldn't be lost and forgotten about.  By mile two, I was among quite a few other participants.  I relaxed and started to take it in.  The back of the pack is really quite enjoyable, I thought, so much more laid back and the intensity keyed way down.  I saw runners jogging against the flow, returning to check on slower-paced friends, before speeding ahead again.  I saw so many running the race in memory of a lost loved one, or in dedication to an friend or family member who was ill.  I saw costumed runners and I even saw a guy skip roping the entire race!  From their front porch, several dogs "cheered" on the runners.  Jogging for enjoyment rather than to "PR" allowed me to take in the scenery and enjoy the crowd--and especially read the posters.  My favorites included Don't stop, people are watching!  and Smile if you're not wearing underwear.  The most amusing was It's not sweat, it's liquid AWESOME! 


I finished the race in 2:02:29, which wayyyyyy exceeded my expectations.  Running sporadically and averaging 15 miles a week is not usually the way you want to prepare, so I was just hoping to finish in under 2:20.  By the end, I was pretty spent and just wanted to go home.  I headed towards the car, thinking about nothing but collapsing on to the couch when I got home.  Soon I realized that I didn't actually know where the car was, after all.  The race began and finished at a fairgrounds, and thousands of cars were parked in identical grassy fields.  I wandered on tired legs for nearly an hour, pressing the panic button on my key before finally hearing the car alarm call out to me "Here I am!"  


Checking this race off the to-do list, I returned home and naturally logged on to my favorite local race website---What's next?

I Am In Over My Head

Tomorrow I am running in the national half marathon relay with two other friends from work.  Two of us run five miles and one person runs three.  I'm running the middle leg, which happens to be five miles mostly uphill.  I am so not ready.  For example, today I ran 2.5 miles and stopped to walk twice.

Back when I agreed to do this, I was having fairly decent workouts and running between 4-5 miles three or four times a week.  And then I went back to dumb work and any shadow of an exercise routine went to hell due to (a) no time and (b) no energy.  I can either run obscenely early or run ridiculously late (meaning 8:00 which is late when you're waking up at 4:00 AM).

Anyway, I am pretty worried that I am going to get scooped up in the little go-cart that collects the slowpokes who can't keep the minimum course pace.  I ran a PR at this half marathon last year.  Wow do things change.

Resolutions

I usually don't make New Year's resolutions, but this year, I am desperately in need of the old classic, the standby. . . I need to get into shape and lose the baby lbs.  MILF training, as I like to call it.  Plus, my sister, Jessica, is getting married in Cozumel in June, and right now, all this is not a pretty sight in a bikini.

About four weeks after having Bitty, I felt pretty good , so I thought that I would start a little before the new year and see just how out of shape I am.  My first run was 3 miles, and took me fifty minutes.  Yes, that's right...5-0.  I think most people can probably walk faster than that pace.  And worse, I could barely move the next two days.  I've got my work cut out for me.

The good thing about having the physical fitness of a three-toed sloth is that improvement happens fast.  Within a few workouts, I ran five miles of intervals!  And then...I did nothing for the next seven days.

I am in need of some more intense motivation.  Today I registered for a half-marathon in Frederick on Mother's Day weekend.  That leaves me four months to work up to 13 miles.  It's not going to be pretty, I am just hoping to haul my butt across the finish line.

But, I know I need more than an impending race for a kick in the a**.  It would be too easy to just, say, not go.  Which is why I am proclaiming it right here in writing for all the world to see, and I added the daily mile tracker widget on the side bar.  Now everybody knows it.  I'm going to have to do this just to save face.

And just one more piece of motivation--I saw someone else do this on their blog and I'm going to copy the idea.  I figure that if I list my past race times, it will be a good reminder of the climb back to pre-pregnancy fitness.

So there it is, my 2011 mission statement.  We'll see how it goes...

 

Rubbing It In

Damn you, Runner's World.  You arrived again today just to tease me.  Someday you will be relevant again.