What a Glorious Feeling

Last night I decided to celebrate my own bad-assery and do my 9 mile "50% run" in the driving rain and 25 mph wind gusts. The decision was two-part: 1. They're predicting rain all weekend and I'm running the Hyannis Half on Sunday. May as well train for the elements. 2. It was so warm out! I couldn't resist.

I suited up while listening to the wind and rain slam against my windows and cheekily put on my capri-length tights and baseball cap, leaving the gloves at home, then headed out where three amazing things happened:

1. I had SO much fun
2. I nailed my "steady state" pace while running into a headwind
3. Another runner stopped me and asked me out on a date

It was just like out of a movie: Running in the rain, soaked through to my socks and innermost layers, feeling incredibly badass and powerful, when stopped by a guy who tells me I'm absolutely gorgeous, in incredible shape, out running in some serious weather, and would I like to have a beer with a total stranger. I was stunned and flattered, but just like in Singin' In the Rain, my Gene Kelly was shot down by his Debbie Reynolds, too. I far prefer my Donald O'Connor, who makes me laugh every day :)

When I arrived back at Crossroads, ready to indulge in a beer and some warm comfort food, I was sopping wet but in a great mood. After a few weeks of having to surrender to the treadmill, it felt great to embrace the elements and get out on the roads. And to "all the single ladies" who are trying to think outside the bar of ways to meet their Prince Charming, might I suggest going for a run in a monsoon.

So Predictable. ...Or Am I?

They say death and taxes are the only two things that are sure in life. Clearly "they" aren't predictable like me. I'd like to add to my list the following:

• I will binge eat Sour Patch Kids until my mouth is ripped up and then I can't even look at them for a year
• I will procrastinate my housework until I gross myself out with my own bathroom
• I will swear I've turned over a new leaf each year, and then put off my most hard core fundraising until I have 2 months to go before the marathon
• I will stay up a full hour later than my body wants me to each night because I'm too lazy to get off the couch and brush my teeth
• I will eat healthily for 2 weeks before I finally say "screw this" and hit the fried food with a vengeance
• I will over-train and end up with shin splints by Valentine's Day.

And yet... here I sit on my couch, far from injured, thanks to Vic. Not so predictable this year, am I?

There are less than 2 months to go until Marathon Monday and I'm feeling great. I have good runs and bad runs, but from an aerial view I'm getting stronger and fitter week-over-week and growing more excited by the moment to finally run Boston after a full healthy training season.

I'm also excited because on the fundraising front, I broke $1,000 today thanks to amazing donors like YOU, dear reader. I'm 1/3 of the way to reaching my minimum and 1/10 of the way to reaching my goal. Want to put me closer? Do it up! Waiting it out for the perfect moment? Then chew on this:

• March 13 The New Band will be playing Hajjar's in Weymouth as my first DFMC fundraiser. For a $15 suggested donation you get to rock your socks off in the name of finding a cure. What's not to love?
• March 21 Salon Acote on Newbury Street will be opening its doors on a Sunday especially for my second fundraiser. A handful of fabulous stylists will be donating their time and for a $35 suggested donation ($20 for dudes), you get a snazzy new haircut. 100% of it goes to fund cancer research. Call and make an appointment! Then why not make it a double whammy and while you're there, chop off a foot and give it to for Locks of Love?

Thanks again to you, dear reader, for sticking by me and supporting me. I'm almost there!

On Recovery Runs

I dread recovery runs. Like, DREAD them. What's odd about that to me is that most things designed to help your body recover from strenuous things are pleasant - massage, chicken soup, hot baths, tea, naps, stretching. So why is it that when you take a lovely word like "recovery" and put the word "run" next to it, the action is anything but pleasurable?

Yesterday, as usual, I found myself slogging out 5 slow, tired, achy miles around the river, cursing out Vic in my head and wondering how something so miserable could be good for me. And I think the winter plays a big part in the misery, too. Doing 5 slow, easy, achy miles on a warm summer evening doesn't sound so bad. But running slowly and painfully into a headwind in the cold? Yeah...

Every week during this run I think about how I'd recover so much better on my couch with a hot beverage. Granted, this week's run went a lot better than last, but I still didn't enjoy it. Regardless, I have faith in my plan and I'll keep doing them for as long as they show up on my calendar. So don't be fooled, dear reader. If you're new to the whole running thing and you see a "recovery run" on your schedule, now you know what you're in for.

A Post for Jeff

Jeff... Brace yourself... I made friends with the treadmill. For reals.

I've always been a hater when it comes to the dreadmill. Running hard and going nowhere, getting super red in the face, dripping sweat like a gross person, trapped in a fitness facility with no fresh air. NO THANK YOU! Until I started doing tempo work, that is.

Tonight, I actually opted for the treadmill over running outside and realized that a major shift has occurred. And I realized on my walk to Crossroads afterwards that the shift came because the treadmill finally has a real purpose: to ensure I hit my paces.

If I'm going for distance or endurance - get me the hell out of the gym and onto the open road please. But if I have to maintain a specific pace for a specific time, I've recently discovered that the treadmill is my friend; keeping me honest and making sure I do the assigned work. Paula Deen was also a good friend tonight. There's just something so satisfying about watching the Food Network while running, especially when the show you're watching specializes in deep frying and cooking with large amounts of butter and cream. As an aside, I thought it was pretty comical that 90% of the commercials that aired during Paula's show were for weight loss products :)

9 miles. 40 minutes of it at tempo (between 8:00 and 8:15 min/miles). Done and done.

The Training Tireds

Noah's family refers to that point after eating a big meal, when you're kind of sedated and punchy, as "the food stupids." I'm not sure what made me think of that and draw a comparison to how I feel now, because there really isn't one, but somehow I did. And I'd like to refer to this point in marathon training as "the training tireds." Here's how it feels:

You wake up in the morning after a solid night of interrupted sleep feeling like you'd been out all night partying. You're reaching for another latte at 2:30 every day. Your eyes get heavy during dinner - and you think there might be a repeat performance of the moment from your childhood where you face-planted in your pizza at the dinner table (AK and cousins, are you giggling?). You spend Friday and Saturday nights on the couch watching crime shows because you're too wiped to go out, and at 10:45 you make comments like "Oh wow, it's almost 11!"

The past 7 days or so have been the first week that my "training tireds" have kicked in and it also made for a few very difficult runs. Sunday I averaged a 10:05 pace on my long run, and fought to maintain it. Word on the street is that Ryan Hall was also on the course that day. I can only imagine what he thought if he ran by me in my hand-knitted hot pink mittens, with a grimace on my face, only running 10's. But last Tuesday I nailed the track work Vic gave me, and did my Thursday 50% run (half of it just a hair faster than marathon pace) on the marathon course, with the 50% part starting just after the hills ended. So I guess it's a trade-off.

It's been a difficult training season for sure, and the toughest weeks are still a good month away, but so far so good - and I'm only another pound or two away from reaching what I like to call my "fighting weight." While I still don't (and never will) agree with Kate Moss' "nothing tastes as good as skinny feels," I don't mind trading late nights and feeling tired for workouts and feeling confident in my clothes. I believe it was another DFMC teammate who last year said "I run because I love the way my ass looks in my jeans."

Dear Punxsatawney Phil,

You are a mean, evil, vicious little critter. Next year, I'm coming out there and giving you 6 more weeks of my fist in your face.

Love,
Brenda



Heading out for another sub-20 degree run into a headwind. Giddyup.

Derry's a Battlefield

Yes, it was a couple of weeks ago, but I haven't had the proper time to devote to this post until now. I started composing it in my head while I was running. So now, without further ado, the race recap from my running the Derry 16-mile Boston prep (to the tune of Love is a Battlefield).

At the start. Shoulder to shoulder we stand. Shins, calves and quads; IT bands.

All of us fearing - Derry's a battlefield.

Vic had made me go, and I made myself stay. Why do I hurt me so bad?

Those hills they suck so. Would they stand in my way? Or was it the best race I've had?

Believe me, believe me, I can't tell you why. But I signed up to run, and I stuck to my stride.

We are young. Huge hill to huge hill we ran. No promises, but demands. Derry's a battlefield.

We are strong. Friends who don't run say we're wrong. Man, did that race feel so lo-ooong.
All of us finding - Derry's a battlefield.

Not losing control, I did not turn away or give up deep inside.

But the running got old. The hills were quite insane.

There's a chance I could die.

But the last leg was closer - I could lose my mind.

And I wouldn't surrender. That finish was mine!

Blue sky, sun. No wind or snow, good to run! One last tough hill -then I'm done. Derry's is a battlefield.

2:18. No one can say I'm not strong. Running that race for so lo-oong.

All of us knowing. Derry's is a battlefield