From Nightmarathons to Nightmarriages

I know, I know. I haven't blogged in, like, 8 months. There are many reasons for this, but the primary one is that I just haven't had a lot of interesting running stories to share. I mean, I guess there was that marathon in Naperville back in November. And the entire summer of training leading up to said marathon.  Oh, and did I mention that was my 10th marathon?!? That's kind of a big deal, I guess. So really, I guess my main excuse for not blogging has been laziness.  Oops. *looks ashamed*

To be fair, Naperville wasn't my best marathon (4:11 - not bad, either), but I had a lot of fun with it.  Well, except for the hills and the wind. The huge hills and relentless wind. Who knew Naperville had so many freakin' hills???

So VERY happy to be finishing after all those effing hills!

After finishing that marathon, I decided I needed a huge break from marathons. Like, I dunno, a year or six.  Oh, I'm still running (30-ish miles per week, these days), and could probably muddle my way through a half marathon.  As I say: I'm always training for something.  Even if I don't know what that something is.  But I'm taking a bit of a break from the serious training.

Besides, I don't have time for marathon training because I have another marathon-like event to prepare for instead.

A wedding.

*insert horrified scream*

As many of you already know, I am newly engaged. Cool, yo. Let's have a party!

Wedding planning is mostly pretty fun. But it's also a bit stressful. I didn't realize how stressful it was until I started seeing parallels between wedding planning and marathon training.

Last night, I had my first wedding nightmare. It was a lot like one of the nightmarathons that I tend to have before a key race.  Let's call it a nightmarriage. In my dream, I was running late for my own wedding (versus being late for a key race), I hadn't put on my dress or makeup (versus showing up naked to a race), and I hadn't booked any of the important vendors for the wedding (versus showing up to a race without having trained for it). Coincidence? I think not. Weddings and marathons, though very different things, are very similar in the amount of preparation required for a one day event, and the amount of stress they produce.

The fiance and I decided on a wedding date that is less than 6 months away, due to the availability of our preferred venue. Most wedding planning checklists are built around a 12-month timeline.  Those of you who are good at math can probably imagine we've had to seriously condense the front end of the planning timeline. In the last two weeks, we have checked off roughly 1,432 items from that ridiculous planning checklist on theknot.com.  I say it's ridiculous because it includes stuff like (I am not making this up) "Start your wedding workout routine now!" (do I have to train to be able to lift that bouquet or something?) and "Make a beauty plan!" (uh, get my hair done?)  Not to mention insanely detailed sequences of things like "Browse photos of invitations" and "Decide on invitations" and "Place order for invitations" and "Receive invitations" and "Address invitations" and "Put invitations into envelopes" and "Mail invitations" and "Wait for guests to receive invitations".  Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little bit, but for crying out loud, does there need to be a checklist item for every.little.thing??? I feel exhausted just reading the checklist!

So, as you can imagine, trying to quickly get through this checklist where half the items are marked "OVERDUE" in bright red text is a teensy bit stressful.  But no matter what the centerpieces look like (don't get me started on the ridiculousness of centerpieces), no matter what color my shoes are, and no matter how drunk Uncle Bob gets on the dance floor, at the end of that one day, only one thing matters: that I married the love of my life, and our family and friends were there to celebrate with us.

Now that we have booked the most major and important facets of our wedding day (venue, food, dress, photography, music and officiant), I am taking a big step back and giving the entire wedding industry a big middle finger. I will NOT be convinced that I need to obsess over the style of my table numbers (or table names, as is the current trend), or that I must spend thousands of dollars on decorations that will be promptly thrown away after the wedding (buh-bye $200 floral centerpieces!), or that anyone really cares whether or not we have personalized cocktail napkins (god forbid people should have to use a plain napkin to set down their sweaty beverage glasses!).

This is not meant to poo-poo on couples who do opt for these extravagances. Hey, it's your wedding and your money - do what you like. But the point is, that's not the point of a wedding. And after a whirlwind two weeks of intense wedding planning (more out of necessity than my wanting to be a control freak), I realize now that obsessing over every detail won't necessarily make for a better wedding. It certainly has no bearing on the quality of the marriage that follows.

As I'm typing this, I just received an email from theknot.com about a crazy awesome deal they are having on, you guessed it, personalized napkins! GAH! STOP IT! I will not buy your silly paper products!

This blog entry is as much a rant against the overpriced, overblown wedding industry as it is therapy for a bride caught in the middle of said wedding industry (me). Watching television shows like Four Weddings and Say Yes To The Dress makes it seem like every wedding is in some sort of competition to be the best thing since sliced bread, and that wedding gowns are supposed to cost thousands of dollars or they're not real wedding dresses.

Pffft.  I call bullsh*t.

So I'm not gonna sweat the small stuff. And we're not going to break the bank.  I'm just going to marry the man I love and have a great party with the people who are dear to us. Without personalized cocktail napkins, dammit.


Peace. Love. Train. Wed. 

Marathon Panic Attack Threat Level: Red

Um, guys?  The marathon is three days away. THREE DAYS! Do you know what this means?

CODE RED! CODE RED!!!

It means I can focus on nothing but marathon preparations: planning my marathon gear, checking marathon day weather, planning pre-marathon food, planning mid-marathon food, remembering to bring my shoes, remembering to charge my Garmin, not forgetting to set my alarm on marathon morning, cursing whatever deity decided this spring would be a great time for me to develop seasonal allergies for the first time *cough cough sniffle*, trying to get plenty of sleep, not being able to sleep due to panicking about the marathon, trying to decide whether to run with a pace group, wondering if I trained smart enough, analyzing every mile in my training log, feeling like a sloth because I am running so few miles this week, making a list of everything I need to pack, making a list of everywhere I need to be, making a list of all of my lists, and being generally obsessive.  

*takes deep, cleansing breaths*

*experiences brief moment of calm clarity*

*resumes panicking* 

CODE RED! CODE RED, PEOPLE! Out of my way! I have to pack my shoes before I forget them!!! 

*runs out of room flinging energy gels and tech socks everywhere*

Peace. Love. Train.

I Get Knocked Down, But I Get Up Again

Today, I present you with a list of things I have learned and experienced in my first 6 weeks of training for the Illinois Marathon.  I will even bullet this list to make it seem important.

• Things almost never go according to plan.
• I did not include a "Flu Week" in my original training plan.  I was made painfully aware of this oversight.
• The flu vaccine is less than 50% effective at preventing flu this season.
• It's very difficult to run when you have a 101° fever, head-to-toe muscle aches, and an overwhelming urge to never ever get out of bed.
• Never underestimate the healing power of Girl Scout Cookies. Especially the peanut butter ones. And especially the ones that magically materialize in your mailbox thanks to a sneaky and loyal friend (you know who you are).
• The first post-flu run can make an experienced runner feel like she is just learning to walk.
• It is possible to come back from illness even stronger than before.

Flu bug nastiness aside, my training for the Illinois Marathon has been going exceptionally well.

Maybe a little too well.

I mean, I know it was my plan to go for another sub-4:00 marathon.  But now that I'm actually training for it, and my training is going even better than my training for Lakefront 2011, I'm starting to get nervous. I'm actually going to have to do this. And it's going to hurt.

The last time I ran a sub-4:00 marathon (and incidentally, the only time), it was a beautiful, crisp fall day in Milwaukee, and everything, I mean everything, was on my side that day. The wind was at my back, the temperature was near perfect, the course was a net downhill (though, to be fair, there was still plenty of uphill).  I had also just been crowned the Bung Queen by Lakefront Brewery the day before the marathon.  Nothing could go wrong. I was Bung Queen, for crying out loud!  I ran the race of my life that day, and it was the most physically demanding thing I have ever done, even in perfect conditions.

But what if the stars and planets don't align this time around? What if it's 80° and pouring rain, or 20° with 25mph wind? What if I'm not crowned the Bung Queen???  What if.... what if.... what if?  Will I be well-trained enough to pull off a sub-4:00 in less-than-ideal conditions?

These are the voices in my head that could spiral out of control if I let them. But there will always be more marathons. Heck, I'm already signed up for a fall marathon.  If Illinois doesn't go according to plan, due to forces beyond my control, I'll pick myself up, dust myself off, and get back to work so I can try again in the fall. That is the beauty of running, and of life in general.

We may get knocked down, but we can always get back up again.

And admit it; now you have that song stuck in your head. You're welcome!

Peace. Love. Train.

Confessions of a Delinquent Blogger

Forgive me Michele, for I have blog-sinned. It has been 84 days since my last blog post. 

My dear friend, and only blog fan Michele (who tries to cheat in 5k races), pointed out to me today that I haven't updated my blog in, like, forever. So I am here to rectify that, and keep Michele from crying over my lack of blog posts.

I tried to tell her that I have nothing interesting to say.  I haven't been running with the FAST group, because it just doesn't fit well with my schedule.  I haven't seriously trained for anything in months. I haven't even run any races at all since October. So what should I talk about?

*scratching head*

Well, I guess I can talk about my future running plans.

My big running news for 2013 is that Marathon Evily is on her way back. I have not seriously raced a marathon since October 2011. I took a year off due to major personal life changes, and I am just now regaining my 2011 fitness levels.  I have now built my running base up to 40 miles per week, consistently, and I feel I am truly ready to begin serious marathon training again.

I am registered for the Illinois Marathon on April 27. And, as of today, I am also registered for the inaugural Naperville Marathon on November 10. That gives me two chances this year to prove my marathon prowess.     I am really hoping at least one of those will be a sub-4:00 victory.

Of course, simply hoping for a sub-4:00 really isn't enough. I'm going to have to work my ass off to get there, just like I did in 2011. My training plan for Illinois is aggressive (for me, at least), and similar in total mileage to my training for Lakefront Marathon 2011.  I figure I may as well start with what worked for me before.

I will peak at about 55 miles per week in this training cycle, barring injury or illness or total burnout. It's scary to think about running that much mileage after a year of barely being able to get in 30 miles per week. But I am in a better place now, mentally and physically, and I feel well-prepared to handle it.

Also, I have new shoes.

*squeeeeee!*

There is nothing more motivating than shiny, pretty, colorful, cushy new shoes to run in. I mean, aside from the desire to achieve one's goals, blah blah blah.

So remember, there are three important benefits of marathon training: (1) the satisfaction of achieving one's goals (2) improving one's fitness and performance, and (3) pretty new shoes. Not necessarily in that order.

Peace. Love. Train.

Oh hi! Remember me?

I'm still alive! And I'm still running!

I just have one wicked case of writer's block.

It started in August, when I wanted to blog about my experience at the Madison Mini-Marathon, but the words just wouldn't flow.  And then it snowballed with each subsequent event I participated in, because it became increasingly challenging write about multiple events in a single post without it turning into a thesis-length report that would bore everyone to tears.

I really don't want to bore anyone to tears!

But I feel like I have let you down.  And by "you", I mean all of my three loyal readers. You know who you are.  You are the few and the proud who enjoy reading about my varied and occasionally exciting running adventures, and I am sure you've felt bereft by my lack of posts recently.  Utterly bereft!

So, how I can sum up four months of running in a concise, enjoyable blog entry? Well, that's still the challenge I'm facing. But I'll give it my best shot.

...

*staring blankly at computer monitor*

...

Yeah, see what I mean?  This ain't easy.

To be brief: I ran some races, ranging from 5k to full marathon, in the last four months.

To be slightly less brief: I PR'd in the 10k distance with a time of 49:59.9.  And then the very next day, I ran a 1:59 half marathon at Fox Valley. I nearly PR'd in the 5k, running just 2 teeny tiny seconds slower than I needed for a new PR.  I also nearly PW'd (that's "personal worst", for those unfamiliar with my made-up terminology) in the marathon, when I ran-walked the uber-hilly, pitch-dark Screaming Pumpkin Marathon in costume, finishing after 1 o'clock in the morning. I am pretty sure I sleep-walked the final loop of that marathon.  Oh and did I mention that I only trained for FIVE WEEKS for that marathon?  Personal worst aside, getting to the marathon distance—without injury—in only 5 weeks of training is a major accomplishment.  I also ran a couple of fun, no-pressure events with friends.  And I am pleased with every one of those accomplishments, fast, slow and in between.

Running a 26.2 miles...  at night... in costume...  with swords.
(Photo by Steven Blanchard)

All of this brings me to the here and now, where I start to look forward to 2013 and plan my next great adventures.  So what do I want to accomplish next year? Well, I feel like I have pretty much returned to my fitness levels of 2011, with the exception of being able to run a fast marathon.  I want to run a fast marathon again. Another sub-4:00 would be really nice. And I think I'm at a point in my life where I can realistically put in the time and effort to make that a reality.

I am officially registered for the 2013 Illinois Marathon, on April 27.  That means I have a full six months to train my ass off (maybe not literally...), and do a lot of panicking and race-day planning.  When it's -20° with 25 mph winds in January and I'm whining because I don't want to do my long run in an arctic tundra, you all need to remind me that this is what I wanted. I signed up for this insanity. Voluntarily!!!

So, here goes nothing. Wish me luck!  And hopefully, I will shake this case of writer's block so I can keep you all well-updated on my progress toward my goal. Also, I can keep you well-updated on my level of panicking.

I'm going to institute a color-coded system, much like the Department of Homeland Security's threat warning system. Take this helpful government-generated graphic and replace all instances of "terrorist" with "panic". (Side note to the US Government, who is probably flagging this blog entry as we speak: Don't get your knickers in a bunch over my use of "Homeland Security" and "terrorist" in the same paragraph. I'm just a little ol' law-abiding marathon runner. The biggest threat I pose to this country is depleting the national banana supply.) Anyway, just refer to this chart as I report my current marathon-related panic attack threat level.

Current panic level: Greenish Blue.

Peace. Love. Train.

Setbacks and Comebacks

Greetings, my sweaty friends!  It has been far too long since I last blogged about my running adventures, and I'm sure all (six) of you have been utterly distraught from the lack of new SLAP content.  I apologize profusely.  You see, life has gotten in the way.  Not just in the way of blogging, but in the way of running too.

Over the last 4 months, my life has taken a complete 180° turn, and I find myself newly single, and the proud owner of a new (old) house.  It was all for the best, and I couldn't be happier with the new direction of my life, but it sure was hard to be a consistent runner through all of the stressful events of the last few months.  In fact, I failed miserably at running consistently.  The week I moved to my new (old) house, I logged a grand total of 7 miles.  And in the weeks leading up to and the first couple of weeks after the move, my mileage was not a whole lot better than that.  Packing, organizing, unpacking, more organizing... followed closely by sitting, sleeping, and being generally exhausted - all of these things took priority over running.

Shortly after I moved, I ran a couple of half-marathons as training runs:  the uber-hilly Heights Half Marathon, and the not-quite-as-hilly-but-still-hilly Lincoln Presidential Half Marathon.  I did better than I expected in the Heights Half (2:13), and much, much worse than expected in the Lincoln Half (2:16).  In both cases, I was so far off of my PR (1:54), I wondered if I would ever get my running fitness back to where it was last fall.  It was discouraging, to say the least.

I am not easily deterred, though.  After my less-than-stellar performance at the Lincoln Half, I vowed to run consistently, targeting a weekly mileage of 30 to 35.  I wouldn't worry about my pace, or about doing speedwork.  I would simply get the miles in, however slow they may be.

Fast-forward to the Illinois Half Marathon at the end of April.  When I signed up for this event many months ago, I had intended this to be an A-race, where I would attempt a new PR.  But given the circumstances of life, that goal went out the window quite some time ago.  My new goal was just to enjoy the run, and not worry about my time.

I met up with my friends Becky and Katie for dinner the night before the race, and enjoyed some delicious pasta and wine.  No SLAP race report is complete without food pictures, so here ya go:

Butternut Squash Ravioli in a Sage-Butter Reduction, aka: Very Tasty Noms

We waddled back to the hotel, stuffed with plenty of carbs for the next day's adventure.  After a night of mediocre sleep, I got up early and prepped for what I thought would be a regular ol' training run with 10,000 of my closest friends.  The weather looked ominous, and a quick look at the forecast confirmed that big rain was coming.  There were also 20 mph winds.  I definitely was not going to race this race.  I would be lucky to finish in 2:10!

I was a bit concerned that my race bib had me in starting Corral B.  That seemed awfully... elite.  I planned to place myself at the back of the corral, so that I wouldn't slow down all the faster runners.

Corral B?  That's, like, where they put the Kenyans!

My friends and I sat in the hotel lobby, waiting for the rain to pass before we made the short walk to the race start.  Just to play it safe, I decided to put on a cheap throwaway rain poncho.

It was a child's poncho.  I couldn't get the darn thing over my head.

All of my friends were in different start Corrals, so I made my way to the back of Corral B all by myself.  That was a good thing, though, as I really didn't know how slow I was going to run, and I didn't want to be pressured by, or put pressure on, someone else to run together.  Soon enough, we were off and running.

I started out way too fast.  Or at least I thought it was way too fast.  I was so concerned about slowing down faster people who might be behind me, I took off at a 9:00 pace, thinking I'd slow down after the first mile or two.  But after the first mile, I felt pretty darn good.  And after the second mile, I felt even better.  And after the 3rd mile, I seemed to be picking up my pace, and still feeling good.

I decided to run with it.  Literally.

I figured if I could just hang on to my pace and feel comfortable, then maybe I could come in just under 2 hours. I ditched the rain poncho at around Mile 3, once I had warmed up.  Not a single drop of rain fell the whole race.  Not only that, but the 20 mph wind was barely even an issue, so sheltered was the race course with trees and buildings.  I gradually stepped up my pace until I was running in the 8:30's and 8:40's - still feeling very comfortable, mind you.  I even mastered the art of drinking from a cup while running - something I had never been able to do before.  The first couple of cups ended up going either up my nose, or down my shirt, but I did eventually get the hang of it.

Only in the last mile did the running become challenging, but that's mostly because I ran the last mile in 8:05.  I crossed the finish line knowing I had broken 2 hours, but only when I stopped my Garmin did I realize by how much I had broken 2 hours.

*hitting Easy Button*  "That was easy!"

1:55:11

Shut.up.

No, that's not a PR.  But it's awfully darn close.  Only 17 seconds away, to be exact.  If I had had any idea how well I was going to run that day, I would've stepped it up a little more and gone for the PR.  But don't mistake this "coulda, woulda, shoulda" for disappointment.  I am hardly disappointed.  I am ecstatic!  After a few months of sporadic and inconsistent training, and less-than-stellar racing, I was really starting to feel discouraged.  To be able to run a near-PR half marathon without even planning to was exactly the confidence boost I needed.

But I wasn't the only one who ran well this day.  I actually lost count of the number of fellow FASTies who either set new PR's, or ran unexpectedly strong "training runs".  Becky, Katie, Brian, Yvonne, Louisa, Kristi... just to name a few.  Incredible job, runner friends!

Mis Amigas

So what does this mean for the rest of my racing calendar for 2012?  Well, I don't really know.  All I know is I'm coming back from a difficult time, and I intend to come back stronger than ever.  At the same time, I intend to enjoy running, enjoy my new house and achieve balance in my life, so I'm not going to worry too much about races and PR's and meeting aggressive goals.

*looks shifty*

At least not yet.


Peace. Love. Train.

'Tis The Season...

...for a lot of indoor running!

In less than a month, winter will officially be upon us, and already we are being subjected to crappy weather and a severe lack of daylight in good ol' Central Illinois.  Distance runners like me have two choices: (1) suck it up and run outside in the freezing cold and pitch black dark, or (2) act like wusses and run in the temperature-controlled and well-lit indoors on treadmills and tracks.

I'm a wuss and I'm proud of it.

It's not that I don't like running in the cold, but the fact that cold is often accompanied by rain, snow, sleet, ice, and a ridiculous amount of wind.  I HATE WIND!  (The fact that I typed that in all caps, bold and italics should adequately reflect my level of hatred for strong wind.)  So in order to avoid the adverse conditions of the upper Midwestern winter, I find myself running indoors a lot these days.

I'm currently in training for the Walt Disney World Goofy Challenge in January.  For those of you unfamiliar with the concept, it's a half-marathon on Saturday followed by a full marathon on Sunday...  That's right: over 39 miles in 2 days.  For fun!  My good friend, marathon training buddy, and Bad Axe Pigeon bandmate, Kristi is also engaging in this crazy endeavor with me.  Thank goodness for that, because I'm not sure I could get through the long runs without her.

Just this morning, we did a 16-mile long run on an indoor track.  On this particular track, that was 120 laps.  There's no feeling quite like being on a 120-lap run, feeling like you've already run 75, and looking at the lap counter on your watch and seeing you've only run 10.  Even with a great running buddy, an indoor long run can be mentally fatiguing.  People often ask us how we do it.

How do we combat the mental fatigue when running around in circles for hours and hours?

Well, it's not easy, but we've found that a clinically-proven combination of guided imagery and creative visualization really helps.

Will run for food/beverages.  Mmmmm...  falafel.

Peace. Love. Train.

Milwaukee's Lakefront Marathon: How I Became An Official Badass

I would just like to start off by saying that I am not declaring myself to be an official badass.  That would be presumptuous.   No, that declaration was made by my own Coach Brad, who is an expert in the field of badassology (true story).  So if Coach Brad calls someone a badass, you don't argue with him.

Now, allow me to explain how I became an official badass.  It wasn't easy.  Earning such a prestigious title never is.  But it was absolutely worth the effort.

It actually started months ago, before I even began training for the Milwaukee Lakefront Marathon.  A seed was planted in my mind, after I ran my first sub-2:00 half-marathon. A good friend and fellow marathoner (who runs really really fast) said to me, "I think you should shoot for sub-4:00 in the marathon."  At first, I laughed him off.  Ridiculous!  I just barely broke 5 hours in the marathon in January.  No way was I ready to conquer sub-4:00 in the same year!

But as much as I tried to ignore it, the seed had been planted and was starting to take root in my somewhat-competitive brain.  Maybe it wasn't that far-fetched after all.  Maybe if I trained really hard over the summer, it could be done.  Maybe if the weather on race day was just right, I would stand a chance.  So before I knew it, The Sub-4:00 Marathon had become my ultimate goal.

It's worth noting that the pace required to finish a marathon just under 4 hours is 9:09 min/mile.  Two years ago, I could barely run a 5k at this pace.  The thought of trying to cover 26 miles at this pace was positively terrifying.  I believe I had several panic attacks about it during the course of marathon training.

Fortunately, the panicking led to working hard.  I trained harder for this marathon than for any of my other previous four marathons.  When I say "harder", I don't mean I ran at a higher intensity. If anything, the vast majority of my mileage was easy to moderate in intensity.  But I ran a lot more miles than before.  Instead of peaking at 40 miles per week during training, I peaked at 56 miles.  And I averaged 45 miles per week during my training season.  It's simple: the more you run, the easier it gets.  The trick is running more without getting injured, and that's why the bulk of my mileage tended toward the easy side.  A funny thing happened, though: the more miles I ran, the faster my easy pace became. So when taper time rolled around, I was actually feeling pretty good about my ability to at least knock out a 4:15 marathon on race day.  That would still be a very substantial PR.

Fast-forward to race weekend...

The weather forecasts for race day had me a bit worried, because even though the temperature looked great (low 40's for race start, low 60's by the finish), the predicted 25 mph headwind did NOT.  Lakefront Marathon is a north-to-south point-to-point course, so the worst possible wind scenario is a strong wind out of the south.  Unfortunately, that was what they were predicting.  I remained optimistic despite this and reminded myself that weather forecasts are often a load of made-up crap.

I arrived in beautiful Milwaukee on Friday evening, where I headed immediately to the small race expo (pretty much what you'd expect from an event this size) and picked up my race packet.  Packet pick-up was well-organized, and I was in and out in a matter of minutes.  The swag was pretty decent.  I really like the race shirt, which is a gender-specific tech shirt that looks red in this picture, but is really more of an orangey-salmon color in person.  Very unique.  I also loved the custom-printed personalized race bibs.  The names were highly visible, which ended up being a very good thing for me on race day, as you will soon see.

The swag: a  tech shirt, a custom race bib, and some other random crap that I'll probably throw away.

On Saturday before the race, I had a lot of time to kill, but I couldn't very well go around sightseeing.  I needed to rest my legs and feet as much as possible.  So I walked a couple blocks to Starbucks, and a few blocks to a pizza place for lunch - just enough to keep the legs loose.  And then I decided to be a little adventurous and go on a tour of one of Milwaukee's many breweries.  I chose Lakefront Brewery after I saw that it was rated #4 on the list of Top 10 Brewery Tours in the US.  I was not disappointed.  Without going into a ton of detail, I learned a lot about beer, I got to sample some very tasty beers, and I was crowned the Bung Queen by the tour guide.

Okay, I know what you're wondering:  What did you learn about beer and what kind of beers did you sample?

Oh, and you might also be wondering what the heck a Bung Queen is.  It's not as weird as it sounds, I swear.

Okay, it's exactly as weird as it sounds.  But not in the way you think.  You see, a bung is a round wooden stopper used to plug up beer kegs after they're filled.  The hole in the barrel is known as the bung hole.  In order to insert the bung into the bung hole, in the old days, they would use a large wooden mallet known as a bung-whacker.  I swear on Prefontaine's grave, I am not making this up.  Anyway, the tour guide was so impressed with my enthusiasm on the tour, and the fact that I took approximately 3,679 pictures during the 45 minute tour, that he crowned me the Bung Queen and bestowed upon me my very own bung.  All the other people on the tour were green with envy.

Tour guide Sir Willow shows us his bung hole. The one in the keg, I mean.

After being crowned the Bung Queen, I didn't see how my weekend could possibly get any better!  But just you wait, boys and girls...

My tour was early in the afternoon on Saturday, allowing me the rest of the day to relax at the hotel and stay off my feet.  I decided to have dinner in the hotel restaurant, since they had a pasta special and it wouldn't involve walking anywhere.  At first, dinner was pretty uneventful and I just sitting there by myself worrying about the impending race...  until two women were seated at the table next to me who had Lakefront Marathon gear check bags.  Ah ha!  Fellow marathoners!  People who could possibly commiserate with me in my state of pre-marathon madness!

I sneakily inserted myself into their marathon conversation, and the three of us spent the rest of our dinner enjoying lively and relaxed conversation about running and races we've enjoyed.  Now, I don't normally weasel my way into other people's conversations but there's a special camaraderie among runners, and especially among marathoners, that allows us to be instant friends without even knowing each other's names.  And sadly, I never did catch the names of these two ladies, but I want to thank them for making my carb-loading feast much more enjoyable and taking my mind off my marathon worries.  I hope they both achieved their marathon day goals.

Later that evening, as I was getting ready for bed, I had a couple moments of "OMG, I'm running a marathon tomorrow!"  but for the most part, I felt surprisingly calm.  I set three alarms, and went to bed early.  I slept unusually well.  The first of my three alarms to go off in the morning was the clock radio, which was playing "Moves Like Jagger".  I remembered this song motivating fellow FASTie Cathy in her recent marathon PR at Fox Valley.  It had to be a good sign!  I hopped right out of bed and did a little dance as I went through my pre-race routine.  I didn't feel nervous at all.  I was cool as a cucumber.

There was shuttle bus service right from my hotel to the race start in Grafton.  I hopped on the bus at 6am and rode for what seemed like an eternity.  The man sitting next to me on the bus said "Wow, this is a really long ride.  And we have to run all the way back!"  I glared at him.  When we finally arrived at Grafton High School (which really did feel like a million miles away from downtown Milwaukee), I stepped off the bus into chilly morning air.  I could see my own breath as I made my way into the school to stay warm.

This race is fairly small, as marathons go, with only 3,000 participants (in contrast to the Chicago Marathon's 40,000 runners).  So there's no need to line up a the start an hour early.  With 15 minutes to go, I moseyed outside, and I quickly found the 4:00 pace group. I wasn't planning to run with them, but I wanted to keep them in my sights as a sort of gauge, so I settled into the crowd behind them.

There was no question about it.  It was cold.  I was used to running in 85°+ temps all summer and now it was 39°.  I had on long sleeves, mittens and a hat and I was still cold.

Brrrrr!  At the starting line, ready to go!

Before I knew it, we were off.  I wouldn't be cold for very long.  The 4:00 pace group was about 20 or 30 feet ahead of me and I felt like they had started off a little fast, so I didn't try to catch up.  I had plenty of time to catch them.  The first two miles were largely downhill, so I was able to get up to speed pretty quickly.  The first water station was less than two miles into the race, and I had already planned on skipping this water station. The 4:00 pace group, however, stopped at this water station (I assume the pace leaders are instructed to stop briefly at every water station) and I whizzed past them.

I never saw them again.

I would love to give you a mile-by-mile rundown of my marathon experience, but I actually remember very little about the later miles of the race due to the fact that it was all I could do to just keep moving forward.  So I will break the race up into four unequal segments.

The First Half:  For the most part, I felt great.  I fueled according to my plan.  I high-fived spectators, chatted with other runners, listened to the conversations going on around me, enjoyed the scenery and soaked up the sunshine.  Somewhere around Mile 6 or 7, I ditched my gloves and hat and pushed up my sleeves.  The terrain was gently rolling, mostly rural roads lined by shady trees.  I crossed the halfway point in 1:58:47, a pace of 9:03.65.

Thumbs up was my theme for the first half.

The Second Half:  After the halfway point, things started to get intense.  My breathing wasn't labored, but my legs were feeling heavy.  I was on track for sub-4:00 though, as long as I didn't slow down much, so I remained optimistic.  I started to focus less on my surroundings and more on my body and keeping it moving forward.  I was vaguely aware that the scenery was becoming less rural and more suburban.  There were large beautiful homes on tree-lined residential streets.  More spectators were out in these miles.  I got a lot of "Great job, Emily!" and "You look strong, Emily!" and "Cute skirt, Emily!" which really helped snap me out of my internally-focused state.  One foot in front of the other.  Keep moving forward.

The Last Two Miles:  In the 24th mile, the course takes a nosedive down a huge hill and onto the lakefront path.  The downhill was wonderful.  The lakefront path was not.  Oh, it was scenic and beautiful whatnot, but all the shady trees were gone and the sun was now beating down on me.  Not only that, but it had suddenly gotten windy and I was running against the wind. I could hear Coach Brad in my mind, yelling at me "Dig deep!".  The last two miles, I had to dig very deep.  They were the hardest two miles I have ever run.  I could feel my calves starting to cramp up.  I prayed they would hold out for just a few more minutes.  Just get me to the finish line, I begged of my calves.  One foot in front of the other.  Left, right, left, right, left, right.

The Last 0.2 Miles:  Finally, I could make out the finish line ahead in the distance.  It seemed so far away.  Spectators were lined up along both sides of the path, cheering loudly.  "Just 600 feet to go!" I heard one of them say.  I have never calculated run distance in feet before, and I could not, for the life of me, figure out what that was in meters.  My ability to do math was completely gone.  All I knew was that 600 feet really wasn't very far.  Not compared to the 26 miles I had already run.  Then, I saw a bright spot in the line of spectators: my good friend and fellow FASTie, Becky, who had driven up to Milwaukee that morning for the sole purpose of cheering me on at the finish line.  I mustered a smile, not because I was happy, but because she had a camera, and smiling for a camera is an uncontrollable reflex.  Then, with less than 100 feet to the finish line, I saw another bright spot in the line of spectators.  My dad reached out of the crowd and high-fived me while cheering at the top of his lungs.  After seeing two people who were so dear to me, I grew wings.  And then I flew across the finish line.

That's a look of victory and pain on my face.  It's not too far off from the Mark Remy "race face".

I was now a sub-4-hour marathoner.  I was in shock; I just couldn't believe I had really done it.

I hobbled slowly through the finish chute, and a nice man came over to me, introduced himself as "Kevin from Medical" and asked if he could walk with me for a bit.  He asked me some questions about how I felt, to which I responded "Well, I'm really tired and sore, but I'm pretty happy.  Oh, and I feel a little nauseous."  He chuckled, and I guess he decided I wasn't delirious or knocking on death's door, so he let me go collect my medal and post-race refreshments.

My legs were toast.  It took every ounce of strength I had, and then some, to hobble over to Becky, and then hobble slowly to the beer tent and then the results tent.  The beer was wonderful.  The official results printout was even more wonderful.

3:57:49.  Sweet.

Then we found my dad, who I think was pretty darn proud of me.  Indeed, he spent the rest of the afternoon telling anyone who would listen, and several people who wouldn't, that his daughter had just run a sub-4-hour marathon, and asking people if there was any sort of special "marathon discount".  The waitress at the restaurant where we later had lunch apologetically replied that there was no "marathon discount", but then she brought me out a piece of chocolate cake with a candle in it.  So, thanks to my dad, I got free cake.  You can't beat that!

Father, daughter and beer...  a trifecta of awesomeness.

I should take a moment to mention that the Lakefront Marathon was a top-notch event: well-organized, with enthusiastic volunteers, great course support and lots of great perks (free locally-brewed beer at the finish - awesome).  The course, or at least what I remember of it, was beautiful.  It's not a big-city marathon, and the streets aren't lined with spectators 5-deep the entire 26 miles, but the spectators who are out there are encouraging and energetic.  There aren't dozens of rock bands playing at every mile, but there was a really awesome old guy singing and playing an accordion in front of his house at one point.  For anyone looking for 26 miles of entertainment, this is probably not the marathon for you.  But for anyone looking for a well-organized event that caters to runners who just love to run, look no further.

I also want to take some time to mention the people who helped me achieve my goals, because I could not have done it alone.  Thanks, Chris, for planting the sub-4:00 seed in my brain so many months ago.  And thanks to all my fellow FASTies and Stashies for your encouragement and enthusiasm as I set goals over the summer and achieved them.  A special thanks to fellow FASTie Kristi for enduring so many long long runs with me, and also enduring a lot of post-run refueling at One World Cafe.  It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it, right?  And thank you to all my friends and family who cheered for me from afar and tracked my progress in the marathon on race day.  Knowing that people were tracking me was extremely motivating, and helped keep me moving forward when my legs wanted so badly to stop.  And huge thanks to Becky and my dad for being at the finish line for me and being the best cheerleaders ever.  Or is it athletic supporters?  No.  Cheerleaders.  Definitely cheerleaders.  Thanks, guys.  You all rock.

And of course, thanks to my coaches who didn't laugh at me when I told them I wanted to run a sub-4:00 marathon.  Upon learning of my 3:57 marathon, Coach Brad posted on my Facebook wall "You are an official badass in my book."  At least I think it was because of my 3:57 marathon.  He didn't really say.  Maybe it was actually because I had been crowned the Bung Queen.  Because, that's pretty badass too.

Peace. Love. Train.

Hey, can someone please shut down this blast furnace?

Gather round, kids; it's time for your semi-annual lesson in metallurgy! (Actually, I don't think I've ever given a metallurgy lesson here before, but after you read today's post, you're definitely going to want it to be a semi-annual thing. Trust me.)

As a metallurgical engineer, I've spent my fair share of time in heat treat shops, metalcasting foundries and steel mills. I find these places intensely fascinating - there's something hypnotic and awe-inspiring about glowing liquid metal and the processes by which it is produced.

Let's take steelmaking, for example. The first step in steelmaking is the chemical conversion of iron ore into a type of iron metal called pig iron. This process, known as smelting, takes place in a large chimney-like tower known as a blast furnace. Iron ore (which is basically rusty-looking rock) is fed into the top of the tower, along with coke (a coal derivative), which I assure you is neither an illegal controlled substance, nor a fizzy beverage. Very hot air, known as "blast", is blown into the bottom of the tower (at about 2200ºF), where it combines with the iron ore and coke from the top. This combination of materials, heat and oxygen produces a chemical reaction (aka, "magic") that causes the iron atoms to release from the ore as a hot liquid pig iron. The bottom of the blast furnace is tapped with a drill, the liquid pig iron pours into special rail cars to be transported to the next stage of the steelmaking process.

Blast furnaces like this one are used to convert iron ore into pig iron. They are really, really, REALLY hot. I mean, like, REALLY.

Now please wake up so I can explain why I just told you all that crap! Did you all realize that the term "sweat like a pig" has absolutely nothing to do with pigs of the animal type? It is, in fact, related to the production of pig iron in the steelmaking process. When pig iron is cool enough to be used in the next step of steelmaking, beads of condensation form on the surface. It begins to "sweat". And I'll bet you thought metallurgy had no practical application to running... just think of pig iron the next time you're pouring sweat during a hard interval workout!

It should come as no surprise that blast furnaces, and the buildings in which they are housed, are quite toasty; steelmaking is not for the faint of heart. If you don't believe me, just take a gander at this video of a blast furnace in action. Steelmaking will make anyone sweat like a pig.

But you know what else is not for the faint of heart? Running in Central Illinois in the summer heat.

Earlier this week, I went for some runs that felt exactly like running around a blast furnace. And for those who doubt my comparison... yes, I have been around a blast furnace; I know what it feels like (although I will admit I've never been compelled to run around one).

Last Saturday, my 12-mile long run was a hot, miserable slog, even at 7 o'clock in the morning. Sunday wasn't much of an improvement, although at least there was cloud cover and rain to cool me off a little bit. On Monday, my afternoon "easy" 3-mile run was anything but easy as I battled a heat index of 96°, a hot wind, and glaring sunshine. And Tuesday, at a 93º FAST run, I found my pace slipping with each consecutive 400m repeat, while my effort seemed to increase exponentially. It was only a 4 mile run, but I could not have run any farther if I wanted to. It was just ridiculous.

So after several days in a row of running in the Blast Furnace Zone, I really needed a break. The heat was dragging me down both physically and mentally.

The forecast for Wednesday called for more of the same - relentlessly hot, humid, and sunny. I wanted nothing to do with it. It was time to revisit my old friend, the indoor track. Some might say running in circles is worse than running in the searing heat. I respectfully disagree. Of course, I have logged so many miles on the indoor track, thanks to training for the indoor marathon last winter, that I have learned to find enjoyment in it.

And believe me, I enjoyed every one of my 75 laps (10 miles) around the track in relatively cool comfort. It was actually pretty warm and humid on the track, but it was much cooler than the 95º weather outside. My effort felt easy the whole time, my pace wasn't reduced to a crawl, I sweated but not like a pig, and when I was done, I felt like I could've kept going. It was exactly the boost in morale that I needed.

Mother Nature has finally given us a little break outside, and for a few days the temperatures should stay below 80º. What is it they say about the weather in Illinois? If you don't like it, just wait 5 minutes and it will change. Or 5 days, as the case may be. One minute it's a blast furnace, the next minute it's a cryogenic treatment chamber (that's another metallurgy lesson for another day... probably a day in the middle of winter).

So kids, let's sum up the steelmaking-running analogy (because there will be a quiz later): In Illinois in the summertime, we sometimes have to run in blast-furnace-like temperatures, which causes us to sweat like pigs (of the iron variety, not the animal variety).

For your homework, I expect you all to memorize the process of converting iron ore to pig iron. And I would like a 4-page typed, single-spaced essay on the history of steelmaking and how it relates to the sport of long-distance running. Extra credit for anyone who includes credible references to Jim Fixx and/or Katherine Switzer.

Who knew my engineering degree would come in handy for so much more than engineering??? I bet my parents are beaming with pride as we speak. And if they happen to be reading this, they should know they are not exempt from the quiz.

Peace. Love. Train.

So, what's next?

Alright, so I achieved my sub-5-hour marathon goal, I'm pretty much recovered from the marathon, and more importantly, from the Post-Marathon Syndrome. I had a wonderful 10 mile run this morning, even though my training plan only called for 8 miles (shhhh, don't tell my coaches!), so I think I'm ready to get back to my regular running routine.

So now what? *scratching head*

That is an excellent question, my friends. An excellent question indeed.

Well, in a nutshell, I figured I would just keep on running, maybe run some races, maybe run some new PR's, and pretty much try to have a good time doing it. But, and I know this will come as a shock to many of you, I am not doing anymore marathons in 2011. *gasp* I know, I know. Now, I didn't say I wasn't doing anymore marathons EVER. Just not this year. I want to focus my efforts on the shorter distances (half-marathon and shorter) and work on improving my speed, because I do think I have a little more speed in me. Then next year I will revisit the marathon. I have run 3 marathons (and over a dozen other shorter races) in the last 9 months and I think the ol' legs need a little break from the 20+ mile runs.

First up on the agenda are some fun races. I'm not going to worry about my time or my pace. I'm just going to run and have fun. First, there will be the triple-race weekend of the Flying Pig on April 30 - May 1. I will be running the 5k, 10k, and half-marathon events with some good friends. We are going to take our time, enjoy the awesome spectators of Cincinnati, maybe dance with Elvis, take some pictures at the top of the Big Hill (aka, Eden Park), eat a lot of bananas, and have a generally good time. Then, the following weekend (May 7), I will be heading to Indianapolis to run the Festival 500 Mini-Marathon. This race, which is the largest half-marathon in the country, has already been sold out for over a month. But I planned ahead and got spots for myself and my hubby. Several of our FAST friends will also be joining us at that event.

The Mini-Marathon allows runners to apply for entry into seeded start corrals if they meet certain requirements (based on performance in past races). Well, for the first time ever in any race, I actually qualified for a Preferred corral. I am not sure whether it's because I'm fast, or because their standards are pretty low (I would guess the latter), but after spending 45 minutes waiting to get to the starting line of this race from Corral S two years ago, I ain't complaining. Maybe this year I'll only have to wait 20 minutes to get to the start once the gun fires.

I think I will find other fun races to run in the spring months too. Last year's Lincoln Memorial Half-Marathon was really scenic and I loved the giant penny medal - I may run that one again. And I'm sure I'll find some local 5k's to run for speedwork.

But what about racing races? Yes, I plan to do that too. But not until summertime. I will race my usual summertime event - the Steamboat Classic 4-Mile - with a goal to run it under 35:00. God willing, it will be my 6th consecutive Steamboat race. And my main event for the year (besides last month's Icebreaker Marathon, that is) will be the Fox Valley Half-Marathon. I just signed up for this fabulous-sounding event last week and am planning to make this my A-race for the half-marathon distance. I feel fairly confident that I can run it under 2:10. But depending on how my training goes, I may attempt a more challenging goal. Time will tell.

So there you have it - that's what's next for this little piggy. No more marathons in 2011. And that's final. So please, I beg you, do not forward me links to really awesome-sounding marathons, because I don't need the temptation. M'kay?

Peace. Love. Train.

PMS (Post-Marathon Syndrome)

People don't like to talk about PMS - it's one of those taboo subjects that we avoid in polite conversation. But I think it's time we really take an in-depth look at this debilitating condition, as it affects so many runners like me.


Signs and Symptoms

In the first 12 to 16 hours following a marathon, symptoms are generally mild to moderate and may include fatigue, difficulty walking, and stiffness and soreness of the lower extremities. In cases involving a personal record (PR), there may also be severe smiling and excessive elation during this period, which may lessen the perceived severity of the other symptoms. From 16 to 72 hours after a marathon, symptoms often worsen and may include the following:

• Severe muscle stiffness and soreness
• Swollen pride
• Inability to descend stairs
• Inability to sit down without upper body assistance
• Excessive medal-wearing
• Excessive hunger
• Strong urge to either (a) sign up for another marathon right away or (b) never run marathons ever again; occasionally the patient may fluctuate radically between the two urges.

Causes

Post-Marathon Syndrome is caused exclusively by running marathons. There are no other known causes.


Diagnosis

If PMS is suspected based on a thorough physical examination, further testing is required to confirm the diagnosis. The most reliable test is the MRR Scan (Marathon Race Results Scan). A qualified medical professional should review the scan to determine if the patient's name is on the results list. If the patient's name does appear, the diagnosis is confirmed.


Prevention

Preventing PMS involves abstaining from marathons completely. While simple in theory, this can be exceptionally difficult for many marathoners as they may have a serious addiction to marathons and shiny medals.


Treatment

A patient suffering from PMS will recover more quickly if treated early. Early treatment options include stretching, massage, ice baths, and drinking beer. In some cases, consumption of chocolate chip cookies has also been shown to aid recovery. If PMS is not diagnosed until 16 hours or later following a marathon event, symptoms will be more difficult to treat. The most successful treatments at this stage of the illness are lying in a supine position on a sofa or bed, researching potential future marathons, the use of NSAIDs (non-steroidal anti-inflammatory medications), and drinking more beer. Additionally, purchasing professional marathon photos has also been shown to be helpful in many cases, except those in which the patient does not photograph well. In no case should the patient ever be separated from their medal. To do so could result in injury to the medical professional.


Prognosis

Most cases of PMS can be cleared in less than one week with proper treatment. More aggressive cases, usually brought on by running multiple marathons in rapid succession or by running ultra-marathons, may require a slightly longer recovery time. Mortality is low. PMS is often a recurring condition and it is likely that patients diagnosed with the condition will suffer from it multiple times in their lives. This chronic condition is known as Marathonitis. There is no known cure, but standard PMS treatments will be useful in managing flare-ups.


I hope you have found this educational and useful. Awareness is the key to helping those suffering from PMS. If someone you know is exhibiting symptoms of PMS, the best thing you can do is ask to see their medal and act really impressed. Remember, marathoners are people too.

Peace. Love. Train.

Too Busy for Madness? Never!

I don't know if you all remember, but I have a marathon coming up. You know, that whole crazy indoor marathon thing where 160 people run around in circles for a few hours? Yeah, it's this weekend. Five days from today. That's alarmingly soon, and yet, I do not feel alarmed. I probably should feel alarmed. I don't consider myself a good enough runner to not feel alarmed before attempting to run 26.2 miles. But the fact is, I've just been so busy with work and getting my personal trainer certification (that's a blog post for another day) and putting together a Hood To Coast relay team (also another blog post for another day), that I haven't had time to feel alarmed.

I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. I mean, maybe it's good that I'm not driving myself bonkers with thoughts of "what if...", or imagining injuries that aren't really there. On the other hand, a healthy dose of fear before a big race can make for a stronger performance. I should at least be a little worried about this marathon. No, I don't care that much about my time. And yes, I am doing this primarily for fun. (I sense that many of you are questioning my definition of fun. Rest assured, your concerns are valid.) But 26.2 miles is a long way whether you care about your finish time or not, and a lot can still go wrong. The last time I tried to run 26.2 miles, it didn't go at all like I planned. Given that miserable experience, shouldn't I be quaking in my Nikes with anxiety for this upcoming race?

Well, chances are, I will be before Sunday rolls around. Part of the problem is that this marathon still seems surreal to me. I mean, I haven't even calculated my target lap splits yet! And I haven't assembled my fueling supplies, packed my pre-run breakfast, or decided on my running outfit. For the love of Pete, I HAVEN'T EVEN RESEARCHED RESTAURANTS FOR MY PRE-MARATHON CARB-LOADING FEAST!!! *collective gasp from audience*

Suddenly, I feel alarmed. How could I have let all these things slide until the very last minute? Clearly, there is much to be done, and so little time left to do it. So why the hell am I sitting here typing up blog posts for you people when I should be on Yelp researching pasta restaurants in the Greater Milwaukee area, and whipping out my calculator to figure out my lap splits, and trying on different running outfits until I find the perfect one???

*flings papers and running clothes and bags of sport beans around wildly*

Out of my way, people! I'm on a mission of madness!!!

Peace. Love. Train.

A Year in Review and A Year of Goals, SLAP-style!

Happy New Year from Sweat Like A Pig! I wish you all the very best for 2011! I also hope your hangover isn't so bad that you can't read this blog post.

(A random aside: I just now realized, after authoring this blog for nearly 10 months, that Sweat Like A Pig has the acronym SLAP (I know, I'm slow). I think it's rather appropriate, don't you? I know I've been SLAP'ed into shape!)

New years often mean new goals, but not necessarily in the form of resolutions (which I honestly hate because they are so often abandoned by February). No, I mean goals for the entire year. Goals that may have several sub-goals, and take months to achieve, but are specific and realistic enough that you won't give up on them.

Though you all know me best as a super-awesome ninja-runner, I am actually an engineer by day. At my job, I am expected to set goals at the beginning of the year, and then my boss measures my performance at the end of the year based on how well I achieved those goals. I can't just say something like "Design lots of tractor parts", because (1) what constitutes "lots"? and (2) is there really any value in designing lots of tractor parts? Only if they are actually manufactured and get used on tractors! We are expected to use a very specific formula for goal-setting, known as SMART. That is, the goal should be Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Realistic, and have a well-defined Time-frame for completion. As you can see, "Design lots of tractor parts" doesn't really meet any of the SMART criteria. A more appropriate goal would be "Complete validation of a new tractor part design on 200 tractors by November 2011". And for the record (in case my boss is reading this by some strange chance), I'm not actually committing to that goal!

In the same way "Design lots of tractor parts" doesn't meet SMART goal criteria, neither do "Lose weight" or "Run a marathon" or "Get organized" or any of the other things people typically come up with for resolutions. So if you must make "resolutions", I encourage you to make them in the form of a SMART goal.

I already have a few running-related goals in mind for 2011, but today I want to look back on the accomplishments (and failures) of 2010 because that will help me figure out what I want to focus on this year. Fortunately, I have a lot of nicely-organized data and results (hey, I told you I was an engineer!).

So let's start with the summary of my Garmin data for 2010. Survey says...

I ran 1,417 miles (that's like running from my house to Yellowstone National Park!)

I ran 226 times (that's 62% of the days of 2010)

I ran for 265 hours, 48 minutes and 53 seconds (that's over 11 solid days of running!)

I burned 127,273 calories just from running (that's 1,178 Toll House Cookies!)

For the record, I did not eat 1,178 cookies. But I could have if I wanted to, and that's what matters!

Additionally, my average run speed increased from 5.1 mph in January to 5.7 mph in December, while my average heart rate dropped from 157 bpm to 155 bpm. What does this mean in plain English? It means I can run faster without having to work as hard.

My race results also show huge improvements. In 2010, I set 12 new PR's in 6 different race distances (I broke my 5k PR 4 times)! I ran a total of 18 races in 2010, which means that I PR'd in 67% of the races I ran. I also brought home 3 age-group awards, including one 1st place trophy. First place! ME!

Yes, 2010 was a very good year for running - I achieved things I never dreamed I could achieve. I owe a lot to FAST for keeping me challenged and motivated. I couldn't have done any of this without my incredible coaches and amazing teammates.

So how can I possibly top that in 2011? Well, I don't really expect to top it. 2010 was a breakthrough year - I figured out what I am truly capable of and I pushed myself to the limit. I expect improvements in 2011 to become less profound, and be fewer and farther between. But that doesn't mean I won't set new goals and keep pushing. To the contrary.

Here are a couple of goals I have right now: I would like to run a sub-25:00 5k and a sub-2:10 half-marathon. I suspect I will have plenty of chances to meet that 5k goal; there is no shortage of 5k races in this area in the warmer months. The half-marathon goal is a little trickier, as I haven't yet identified a target race (I am running the Flying Pig half and the Indy Mini-Marathon, but not planning to race them since they are on consecutive weekends). So, help me out, friends! Help me pick a good half-marathon (preferably one within driving distance of central Illinois) to meet my sub-2:10 goal!

I would also like to eat 1,178 cookies in 2011. It's a pretty lofty goal, I know, but if I work really hard, I think I can do it. I will have to eat over 3 cookies a day to reach this goal. I have not had any cookies yet today, so I'm already off to a bad start.

It's pretty likely that as the year progresses, I will come up with new goals. And that's the way it should be. One shouldn't only set goals on New Year's Day. Goal-setting should be an ongoing, never-ending activity. When you meet a goal, set a new one! If you have a SMART goal and you work hard, I have no doubt you can achieve it.

And by the way, I was kidding about the cookie-eating goal. Sort of.

Peace. Love. Train.

Random Post-Marathon Thoughts

Recovering from a marathon gives a runner a lot of extra time to think about stuff. I feel like this is a good place to write all those thoughts down. Warning: this will be random and may seem nonsensical at times. Read at your own risk. If you haven't read my Chicago race report, now's a good time to do it - it may help this post make a teeny bit more sense. Maybe. Eh, probably not. But it's worth reading anyway.

1. I distinctly remember running over two dead rats during the marathon. In two different places. Is this normal for Chicago? Were the rats already dead before the marathon, or did they get trampled to death by the elites?

2. And while we're on the subject of gross things about Chicago, what was the deal with the sewer gas smell? I'd say a good 25% of Chicago smells like sewer gas. The other 75% smells like fried food.

3. I need a redemption marathon. Not that getting a PR wasn't great. But I need to prove to myself that I can run a marathon in under 5 hours.

4. I'm worried that I'll just keep inching closer and closer to 5 hours without actually going under, so I'll be stuck in a seemingly endless schedule of marathons and all my toenails will fall off and when there are no toenails left, my fingernails will start falling off out of sympathy.

5. Charity Village is too freaking far away from the marathon start/finish area at Chicago. They should provide shuttle buses. Or roller skates!

6. I think I would enjoy being a volunteer at the Chicago Marathon next year. I bet I would be the best water-cup-passer-outer they've ever had. Maybe if I proved myself worthy, they would promote me to Gatorade-cup-passer-outer. Or the highest honor, Gu-passer-outer.

7. I ran 2 miles on Tuesday - my first post-marathon run. Was I not supposed to? Hal Higdon says no. Hal Higdon says don't even think about running until the Thursday after your marathon. Oops. Sorry, Hal.

8. You know, I'm not sure I really care that much what Hal Higdon says. He also says no races until 4 weeks after your marathon, and I'm doing a half-marathon in less than two weeks. Take that, Hal Higdon!

9. Hopefully I don't collapse in my half-marathon and have to deal with Hal Higdon standing over my broken body, waggling his finger in my face and saying "Neener neener, I told you so!"

10. I really shouldn't have smiled for all the cameras on the marathon course. I actually look like I was having fun at Mile 20. I mean just look at these pictures. It's so misleading, because I was actually having a near-death experience at that point and as I was walking into the light, I was filled with a sense of joy and peace. I wasn't joyful about the marathon, I was joyful about an eternity filled with all the cookies I could ever want.

Mile 18-ish: Giving thumbs up to Jesus as I go into the light

Mile 357 (or so it felt), walking and miserable, but still smiling for the camera. Also, that girl in the yellow shorts wearing the same shirt passed me all cheerful-like, saying "GREAT JOB! YAY OAR! You look GREAT!" and if I had had the energy, I would've stuck my foot out and tripped her.

11. I bet running through Chinatown is really cool when you're not too delirious to appreciate it. I vaguely remember some Chinese-looking buildings. And some dragons. But it's entirely possible I hallucinated these things.

12. The shoes I wore for the marathon are covered in all these nasty bits of white stuff. What is this stuff? It almost looks like little paper spit-wads. Were spectators shooting spit-wads at me??? Why would they do this?

13. I have already been researching marathons for my next 26.2. I can't decide if I want to do another one soon, or wait a year. If I do one soon, maybe I can get that sub-5:00 goal out of the way quickly and move on to other (shorter) things. If I wait a year, maybe I'll get faster so that sub-5:00 is that much easier to achieve. Or maybe I should just sit on my butt and eat cookies.

14. The Chicago Marathon medal and the official race t-shirt both leave a lot to be desired. I have half-marathon medals that are way cooler looking. And they cost way less money and time to earn. It's like the Chicago Marathon is the Gucci of marathons - even though their gear is kinda ugly, people pay a lot of money for it because it says Chicago Marathon on it. Incidentally, the medal I got from OAR was cooler (in my opinion) than the actual marathon medal.

Chicago Marathon medal - meh

OAR Medal - cool ribbon!

15. I'd like to run a race in every state. Not a marathon in every state, because that's a LOT of marathons. But a race of some distance. Preferably races with state-related themes. I wonder if there's like a Spud 7-Miler in Idaho... Or maybe a Hula Half-Marathon in Hawaii.... or perhaps a Tornado 10k in Kansas.

16. Along the marathon course, they were handing out water-soaked sponges. These sponges had been sitting in water-filled kiddie pools. I'd be lying if I said it didn't cross my mind to skip the sponges completely and just dive right into the kiddie pools.

17. I can't believe how quickly I've forgotten the pain of Chicago. Already I want to run another marathon? Am I completely insane? (That's a rhetorical question - no need to be so enthusiastic about answering it, people.)

18. OMG, so I'm sitting here Googling marathons (yes, this is how I spend my recovery time) and I think I found my next marathon! Check it out! It's the Icebreaker Indoor Marathon. That's right folks, an indoor marathon. 95 laps around an indoor track. Oh, you laugh now because it sounds ridiculous, but when you read all the awesome reviews, you'll want to run it too. Come on, you know you want to!

19. Well, I'd love to sit here and think up more random thoughts, but I gotta go figure out my training plan for my next marathon. See ya!

Peace. Love. Train.

Taper Week 2: The madness begins...

Ahhh.... taper sweet taper...

Finally, I have been given some reprieve in my training. The mileage has dropped. The intensity has decreased a little bit. Rest time between intervals has increased. Frankly, it feels wonderful.

The problem is that I have way too much time on my hands now. Instead of using this extra time for good, productive, useful things like tending the garden, or cleaning out the basement, or alphabetizing my canned goods, I've taken up less desirable pastimes such as buying way too many running shoes, and completely freaking out about my ability to run this marathon.

Yes, my friends, it has officially begun...

*begin echo-y voice* Taper Madness *end echo-y voice*

I know what you're thinking... Just how many shoes are we talking here?

Well, I've added two new pairs of running shoes to my arsenal in the last couple of weeks, including one pair of custom NikeID Lunarglides. These are the shoes I intend to wear for the marathon.



Aren't they beeeeeeeeautiful? For those not in the know, my friends call me Evily, thus the RUN EVILY personalization. There is, naturally, a long story behind that moniker, but we'll save that for another time and place. The point is, these shoes have marathon awesomeness written all over them. Not literally, of course, because "Marathon Awesomeness" doesn't fit within the 10 character maximum... but you know what I mean.

So how many pairs of running shoes does that make now, you ask? Um... a fair few... *looks sheepish*


*ahem* Please stop gaping, everyone.

In my defense, the pair in the back left corner was just retired from use last weekend, as it just hit 400 miles. Also in my defense, I got a really good sale price on several of these. And also in my defense, I tried on a pair of new Nike LunarEclipses yesterday and despite the fact that I loved them, I did not buy them. I do have some self-control, people! Geesh.

I think buying new shoes and taking inventory of my running shoe collection helps take my mind off of the more serious aspects of marathon tapering. Namely: the looming marathon. It's only nine days away now. NINE DAYS, PEOPLE!!! Do you have any idea what this means???

Um... well... it pretty much just means that the marathon is nine days away. But this is an extremely dire situation! I can't run a marathon in nine days! I haven't packed my gym bag yet! I haven't memorized the locations of the aid stations along the course! I haven't charged my Garmin! I haven't prepared my bag of Sharkies! I haven't polished the Nike swooshes on my shoes! I CANNOT POSSIBLY RUN 26.2 MILES NINE DAYS FROM NOW!!!

I don't think you all understand the gravity of the situation. Do you have any idea what 26.2 miles looks like? For those of you who do not, allow me to show you. This is the Chicago Marathon course in its entirety (you might want to sit down for this):




Now do you understand? I mean, sure, the video makes it look easy because it only takes 9 minutes from start to finish. It will take me roughly 33 times longer than that to run it!

Okay, let me get a show of hands: Who just got out their calculator and figured out how long that is?

Nerds. :-P

But I digress.... The point is, I have reached the point in Taper Madness where I spend a lot of time freaking out. I'm not sure I'll even remember how to run when I get to the starting line. I keep going through a million different "what if" scenarios in my mind. What if the weather stinks? What if it's really windy? What if I trip and fall? What if I have to stop and use the port-o-potties? What if I run out of Sharkies? What if my Garmin dies? What if I forget to set my alarm that morning? What if I show up on the wrong day? What if I forget to bring my oatmeal and banana? What if my Nike swooshes aren't shiny enough?

There are so many things to worry about. And now that I'm tapering, I have so much more time to worry about them! Nine more days of this could drive me to the brink of insanity. I'll be running 26.2 miles straight to the loony bin. I think there's only one thing that will help me through a crisis like this...

Who wants to go shopping for new running shoes with me???

Peace. Love. Train.