Yesterday was my usual Thursday running club night. Now, typically I make it home from work with enough time to change, and grab my car and head back downtown for the run - but early yesterday I decided I wanted to try something a little different. I knew that I would make it home with a few minutes to spare - when typically I will do as little as possible - so I thought I would put myself to better use. I decided to run from my house to the O'Doherty's rather then take my car and set myself up for yet another parking ticket. (they are like mosquito bites, you get one, you'll get twenty)
So I laced up my kicks, donned my running gear and set out for the 2.5 mile trek to the running club meeting spot. One key problem with my plan was my clear misunderstanding that running downhill is ...well.... still running. Shit. However, I made it! and I felt really good about doing a little extra, when so far I feel like this running journey has consisted of my doing the bare minimum.
Oddly enough, after the real run (a little over 3 mile loop) took off, I actually thought "my legs are already a little tired...wonder why?" Sometimes I'm not as smart as I look... ;) Even more surprising, I actually managed to keep a fairly good pace for the Flying Irish run - enough where I thought, if only for a moment or two..."Way to go Steph!" It ended fairly well, back at O'd's in time for a cold beverage( or two...and cheese fries to share), and to hear two more of my girls, Sara and Meredith, tell their jokes and become full fledged shirted members of the Flying I.
Also, I tried a new energy gel thingy m'bob. This one is made by Clif Bars - "Razz" flavored. While it tasted a tiny bit better then the Power Bar version, it had the thickness of jam...blah. While these little things aren't nearly as bad as I try to make them sound -- I'm not yet sold on them doing anything for me....I took this one after my trot downhill and before the main event ....but who knows how I would have faired without....perhaps lying on the side of the road, but I can't be sure about that....;) All in all yesterday was about 5.5 miles of running glory for this chica!
On a more personal note, for those of you still not sold on this running thing...I have dropped a pants size since starting this journey, and haven't changed really any other aspect of my life (i.e. I still drink like a hell-hound on most weekends, and I indulge in fried food, sugar, and salt on a non-discriminatory basis) alright alright, I am conscious of what I eat and drink, so maybe that is different, but I am certainly not tied down by a diet, and I feel like I am still changing the way I look. :)
Happy Running!!
Friday, May 13, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Spring Sprang Sprung
After spending a week blaming Bloomsday for not running, I gave up with my anti-running efforts today - and set out to shake off the cobwebs and continue on my training-running journey.
The weather in Spokane has finally decided to do be Spring, and man, today was beautiful. A big blue sky and temperatures that make shorts and tees a real option (aside from the whiteness that is my legs). I knew all day that it was a running day. I map out a few different options for myself, but not sure what sort of distance I should shoot for after taking....*cough* 7 or 8 days off. ick. I decided that 3 was too short, and 7 was probably pushing it. I set up at nice 4.5 miler that took me down to a great vantage point overlooking downtown Spokane, including some hills, and flat stuff - and required nothing more then taking off from my back door.
In order to test out the "energy" shots that people talk about, I downed a Power Bar Gel thingy that was Raspberry Creme as I edged out the door. The first gulp tasted as expected, like raspberry creme, not bad! The second gulp hit me and tasted like medicine laced with raspberry crap. Eh. But I did did take off with a pretty good stride for the first couple miles. By the 3rd mile, I think what ever placebo effect that I had wore off, and I felt like normal -- mediocre. But after looping back towards home and taking in the beautiful day as I overlooked downtown, my second wind kicked in, and soon I was within striking distance of home. Even managed to make a good block sprint home.
I don't know if it was the sunshine or seeing so many people out doing the same thing as me, but today's run felt good. Happy Running!
The weather in Spokane has finally decided to do be Spring, and man, today was beautiful. A big blue sky and temperatures that make shorts and tees a real option (aside from the whiteness that is my legs). I knew all day that it was a running day. I map out a few different options for myself, but not sure what sort of distance I should shoot for after taking....*cough* 7 or 8 days off. ick. I decided that 3 was too short, and 7 was probably pushing it. I set up at nice 4.5 miler that took me down to a great vantage point overlooking downtown Spokane, including some hills, and flat stuff - and required nothing more then taking off from my back door.
In order to test out the "energy" shots that people talk about, I downed a Power Bar Gel thingy that was Raspberry Creme as I edged out the door. The first gulp tasted as expected, like raspberry creme, not bad! The second gulp hit me and tasted like medicine laced with raspberry crap. Eh. But I did did take off with a pretty good stride for the first couple miles. By the 3rd mile, I think what ever placebo effect that I had wore off, and I felt like normal -- mediocre. But after looping back towards home and taking in the beautiful day as I overlooked downtown, my second wind kicked in, and soon I was within striking distance of home. Even managed to make a good block sprint home.
I don't know if it was the sunshine or seeing so many people out doing the same thing as me, but today's run felt good. Happy Running!
Monday, May 2, 2011
A Bright Sunny Bloomsday
First and foremost, before I get into the tails of Bloomsday, I must gloat --- my wedding is 2 months from today!!!! I can’t believe how soon it is!! What a journey it has been so far!! Ok, moving on…
Bloomsday is an annual spectacle in Spokane that entices tens of thousands of folks on a 7.46 mile journey that before it ends has many asking, “Why the hell am I doing this?!?!”
This year’s race was my second bite at the Bloomsday apple, with last year being my first experience when I elected to run it ‘off the couch.’ Last year, I finished with a surprisingly decent pace of 13 minutes a mile, equating to roughly 1 hour and 38 minutes of physical exertion –and I spent the remainder of that sunny Sunday laying on a couch, feeling as if I had been hit by a freight train. Any time I chose to get up from the couch, say to retrieve food or use the bathroom, required that I roll off the couch, and proceed to gingerly to go from my hands and knees to a hunched standing position, and an awkward shuffle to my desired destination.
However you, as one of my readers, are probably aware this year’s Bloomsday took place during my half-marathon training journey, so I can honestly say I felt a bit more prepared. I genuinely had reasons to believe that I was not doomed to an afternoon of imprisonment on a couch. But, this reason also made the event that much more nerve-wracking. It meant that I was actually supposed to be one of those crazy assholes who run all of Bloomsday. Yes - the whole way, even the dreaded ¾ mile monster referred to lovingly as Doomsday hill. The week leading up to this year’s race, I had this foreboding feeling in my mind, that if I failed to do better at Bloomsday then last year, I probably was never going to be able to finish a half-marathon – especially not the one I am signed up for on June 18th. Nothing like a good fashioned sense of dread to really kick off a race.
My dread was accompanied by my knowledge that there would be witnesses to any failure. Why? Bloomsday results are published and of my friends whom I run with were signed up to run Bloomsday as well.
With all of this weighing on my mind, I committed to setting myself up for success. Saturday night involved a carbo-load dinner with other ‘Bloomies’ (aka Bloomsday participants) at an Italian restaurant, and I did not have a sip of alcohol that day. I went to bed early, and on Sunday morning got up at a reasonable time, eating a balanced breakfast of an egg, an English muffin and raspberry yogurt. Then all my girls, (plus Meredith’s fiancé) descending upon my home for the trek to the bus stop for our journey to the Bloomsday start line. The bus was loaded with Bloomies, and some Spokies, one girl actually asked “You guys really have enough energy to run that race?” Clearly this girl didn’t know me and wasn’t too observant, because at that point I was as perky and energetic as ever (a truly scary thought), as I was determined to be totally hyped and ready to kick this races ass by the time we reached downtown.
The start line of Bloomsday is a total zoo. There is not a better way to describe 50,000 runners, walkers, and strollers crammed onto a street waiting their turn to take off. Each participant is grouped into a colored category, based upon their expected finish times. The groups are then herded (yes, like cattle) to the start line on after another, with the fastest groups starting first, with the next being started a few minutes later, and so on and so forth. Our group, where we were starting, was the orange group, and approximately the fourth or fifth group off, so we were paraded forward about two blocks before we actually made it to the start-line. In fact by the time we reached the “start line”, the female winner of Bloomsday from the Elite group had already crossed the finish line, 7.46 miles away with a time of 40 minutes. Holy shit.
And then, we were off. Some folks take off like a bats out of hell --- in my mind if these folks are pretending that they probably should have been in a faster heat, but best of luck to ‘em. Me, Texie, and Sara had decided to try to stick together the whole race, so at one point I actually grabbed Texie’s hand in an effort to keep us together during the melee that was our start. And together we stayed. No,w Texie is a seasoned running vet in my mind, having ran a full marathon in a rain storm. And Sara runs long distances all the time. I figured the three of us would probably make it as far as mile 3 together. Except for one thing, they both kept letting me catch up. I tended to be the one in the back, and if didn’t catch up on my own, I found the leader (usually Texie) waiting patiently for me at the top of the next hill. The only point where we seemed to really spread out was at the dreaded Doomsday hill, which is between miles 4 and 5. Basically we decided to meet at the top. I brought up the rear, after finding that my speed walking was faster then the trot I could pull going up that bastard so I walked about ¾ of the hill. As I neared the top, I was able to get back into my running stride, and there, faithful as ever waited Texie and Sara. The remainder of the race is a fairly flat run through some neighborhoods as you snake back to the finish line. The last long stretch from approximately 6.25 to 7.25 seems to never end but eventually does when round you a corner and the finish line appears downhill from you. I was born a natural sprinter so that last dash was my only claim to glory for the entire race.
The end result? 1:19:46. Not only did I beat my time from last year, but I kicked its ass. I averaged a pace of 10 minutes and 41 seconds per mile – and I even managed that with my partial walk up Doomsday hill. Boom!
I feel really accomplished, and am confident that my half marathon may not kill me! Happy Running!
Bloomsday is an annual spectacle in Spokane that entices tens of thousands of folks on a 7.46 mile journey that before it ends has many asking, “Why the hell am I doing this?!?!”
This year’s race was my second bite at the Bloomsday apple, with last year being my first experience when I elected to run it ‘off the couch.’ Last year, I finished with a surprisingly decent pace of 13 minutes a mile, equating to roughly 1 hour and 38 minutes of physical exertion –and I spent the remainder of that sunny Sunday laying on a couch, feeling as if I had been hit by a freight train. Any time I chose to get up from the couch, say to retrieve food or use the bathroom, required that I roll off the couch, and proceed to gingerly to go from my hands and knees to a hunched standing position, and an awkward shuffle to my desired destination.
However you, as one of my readers, are probably aware this year’s Bloomsday took place during my half-marathon training journey, so I can honestly say I felt a bit more prepared. I genuinely had reasons to believe that I was not doomed to an afternoon of imprisonment on a couch. But, this reason also made the event that much more nerve-wracking. It meant that I was actually supposed to be one of those crazy assholes who run all of Bloomsday. Yes - the whole way, even the dreaded ¾ mile monster referred to lovingly as Doomsday hill. The week leading up to this year’s race, I had this foreboding feeling in my mind, that if I failed to do better at Bloomsday then last year, I probably was never going to be able to finish a half-marathon – especially not the one I am signed up for on June 18th. Nothing like a good fashioned sense of dread to really kick off a race.
My dread was accompanied by my knowledge that there would be witnesses to any failure. Why? Bloomsday results are published and of my friends whom I run with were signed up to run Bloomsday as well.
With all of this weighing on my mind, I committed to setting myself up for success. Saturday night involved a carbo-load dinner with other ‘Bloomies’ (aka Bloomsday participants) at an Italian restaurant, and I did not have a sip of alcohol that day. I went to bed early, and on Sunday morning got up at a reasonable time, eating a balanced breakfast of an egg, an English muffin and raspberry yogurt. Then all my girls, (plus Meredith’s fiancé) descending upon my home for the trek to the bus stop for our journey to the Bloomsday start line. The bus was loaded with Bloomies, and some Spokies, one girl actually asked “You guys really have enough energy to run that race?” Clearly this girl didn’t know me and wasn’t too observant, because at that point I was as perky and energetic as ever (a truly scary thought), as I was determined to be totally hyped and ready to kick this races ass by the time we reached downtown.
The start line of Bloomsday is a total zoo. There is not a better way to describe 50,000 runners, walkers, and strollers crammed onto a street waiting their turn to take off. Each participant is grouped into a colored category, based upon their expected finish times. The groups are then herded (yes, like cattle) to the start line on after another, with the fastest groups starting first, with the next being started a few minutes later, and so on and so forth. Our group, where we were starting, was the orange group, and approximately the fourth or fifth group off, so we were paraded forward about two blocks before we actually made it to the start-line. In fact by the time we reached the “start line”, the female winner of Bloomsday from the Elite group had already crossed the finish line, 7.46 miles away with a time of 40 minutes. Holy shit.
And then, we were off. Some folks take off like a bats out of hell --- in my mind if these folks are pretending that they probably should have been in a faster heat, but best of luck to ‘em. Me, Texie, and Sara had decided to try to stick together the whole race, so at one point I actually grabbed Texie’s hand in an effort to keep us together during the melee that was our start. And together we stayed. No,w Texie is a seasoned running vet in my mind, having ran a full marathon in a rain storm. And Sara runs long distances all the time. I figured the three of us would probably make it as far as mile 3 together. Except for one thing, they both kept letting me catch up. I tended to be the one in the back, and if didn’t catch up on my own, I found the leader (usually Texie) waiting patiently for me at the top of the next hill. The only point where we seemed to really spread out was at the dreaded Doomsday hill, which is between miles 4 and 5. Basically we decided to meet at the top. I brought up the rear, after finding that my speed walking was faster then the trot I could pull going up that bastard so I walked about ¾ of the hill. As I neared the top, I was able to get back into my running stride, and there, faithful as ever waited Texie and Sara. The remainder of the race is a fairly flat run through some neighborhoods as you snake back to the finish line. The last long stretch from approximately 6.25 to 7.25 seems to never end but eventually does when round you a corner and the finish line appears downhill from you. I was born a natural sprinter so that last dash was my only claim to glory for the entire race.
The end result? 1:19:46. Not only did I beat my time from last year, but I kicked its ass. I averaged a pace of 10 minutes and 41 seconds per mile – and I even managed that with my partial walk up Doomsday hill. Boom!
I feel really accomplished, and am confident that my half marathon may not kill me! Happy Running!
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