MarathonBlog

It's been a while since I posted to MarathonBlog, but there's no time like the present.

The news from NYC is that training schedules have gone to heck in a handbasket, what with our National Wedding Tour and Tasha's Olympic efforts to remove her own lungs through deep coughing. Sam, of course, has done his part by cutting four new teeth, running a fever and keeping us up at night.

Still, we did have some good cross-training days -- on Thursday, we jogged in a swimming pool, swam laps and then jogged in the pool some more. If you've never jogged in a pool, then, well, you've never jogged in a really small circle, through water, feeling silly. Judith and Jonn (the owners of said pool) had painters working at the house, and I think they thought we were nuts -- at one point, one gestured in our direction and said to the other, los hombres estan muy locos, but they could have been talking about someone else, right?

On Friday, I inadvertantly engaged in additional cross-training, when I was briefly interred in Uncle Geoffrey's Gulag and Desert Spa, and forced to haul rocks up a hill, carry large slabs of flagstone, haul at least a ton of dirt and manure, and cut dozens of stones to make a flagstone patio and staircase. And all of this in the hot desert sun (even if it was, as they say, "dry heat")! Still, that which does not kill us makes us stronger...

Speaking of getting stronger, here's three cheers for my dad, who ran 5 1/2 miles on Sunday, and who took one for the team when he lightly strained his calf muscle (but was still able to dance with Mom on Sunday night!). Way to go, Big Judah!

Events to look forward to later this week: the Run for Home Plate at Flushing Meadows Park. More details when I get them.

Flat is in the eye of the beholder. This is what Tasha and I decided on Sunday, as we ran forth and back and forth and back along Lake Raponda Road for our six+ mile run. It made us laugh to think about the reaction we'd get if people heard us call the route "flat": Lake Raponda Road is by no stretch of the imagination flat. Still, compared with our regular route in Vermont (either the five-mile loop or the seven-mile loop), there really isn't any other word for it. In any event, despite its flat-factor, Lake Raponda is still probably hillier than the Dis (as Tasha has taken to calling the marathon), which is about as flat a course as you can find; as best as I can recall, the only hills that we have to run are up and down some highway overpasses.

As for how the run went, it was an unqualified success -- our schedule called for us to warm up for 1.5 miles, run a 5K race and then cool down for 1.5 miles. To compensate for the fact that we weren't racing, we simulated a race on our own. Thus, our first leg (out) was slow, our next two legs (in and out again) were run hard, and our final leg (back in again) was at a fast walking pace. I was particularly amused by Tasha's insistence that after our warm-up jog, we had to stand around at the "starting line" for a few minutes, to simulate the experience of actually entering a 5K (I complained to the race director about the absence of a porta-potty at our starting line, but all she did was stick her tongue out at me!). In the end, though, the 5K portion of the run went really well; I thought we ran strongly and smartly. I was also very proud of Tasha -- she set a goal of 40 minutes, and finished in 38, which was two minutes faster than her 5K time a few weeks ago. Yea!

I was also proud of Dad for running four miles Sunday morning. It was particularly monumental because he did so without Mom at his side, and without someone watching over her. This was the first time since she started having seizures in February that she has been alone for any length of time; in many ways, this side-bar to the run represented something almost more wonderful than the run itself, which was no slouch (four miles in one hour: more than the average American, who is far younger than Dad, can do!). Way to go, Dad!

You go, girl! Part of the loss of momentum was your trip to California, no doubt. As for the eating right thing, I think we've both fallen off the wagon, and there's no time the present to climb back on. If you'll give me a boost onto the wagon, I'll give you a hand and pull you back up.

As for my own running, Tuesday I made a bad choice, and went to lunch with the gang instead of going to the gym. I had every intention of leaving work in time to go to the gym before I got Sam, but then something came up that had to be dealt with on Tuesday at 5:00, and there went my run. The good news was that I did get to run on Wednesday, and felt good about it...until I tried to carry Sam up the stairs from the subway, and hurt my back. I think I'm better now, though, and maybe I'll run tomorrow (if Tasha hasn't already run today, then she can run while I get us ready to go to VT; if she has, maybe we can do the opposite. Or we could go up to VT in the morning, and we could both run tonight...)

Anyway, the point is that we have to keep ourselves honest (and that's what MarathonBlog is for, ostensibly). So here's my pledge: at the very least, we're going running this weekend.

This is kind of a depressed post. I haven't been running. I haven't been eating well. I seem to have lost my momentum on this whole project. I am not quite sure what happened. Things were moving along great and then I just totally lost the groove.

No use in navel-gazing, though. The thing I need is to pick it up and move forward. Hi ho, Silver!! So: today was supposed to be a cross-training day, but since I haven't run all week, this is going to be the 20-30 minute run that I should have done yesterday. Tomorrow I'll pick up with the full schedule and carry on. We can do it. Really.

This is the first post by Judah. Tomorrow, I'm going to do a three mile run. I'm very excited. More news as events warrant.

I don't think I'm going to be able to run today, either. Between trying to get Sam and me ready to leave the house this morning, I forgot my gym bag, so running wasn't going to happen during office hours. And with Tasha in LA, and no one to look after Sam while I run (not to mention the fact that I'm driving to Vermont with him tonight), that's the ballgame. I may try to run tomorrow when I'm in Vermont, but then again, I may subscribe to the same theory as Tasha, namely that missing one run won't kill me, but doing a run Saturday and a hill run on Sunday might lead to injury, which would be bad.

Coming this weekend, by the way, may be the debut of Judah on MarathonBlog, assuming that I can get the technical stuff worked out. Stay tuned...

Okay . . . well . . . um . . . here comes the first big marathon training test.

Business travel is the killer. You would think I'd be able to find time to run, but this trip I'm not even finding time to sleep. I flew into LA late last night proudly clutching my beautiful new computer, only to find that I couldn't connect to the internet or my office anyway, anyhow, at all. I stayed up all night trying, because I really needed to get this work done. Sadly, my blackberry was also broken, having accidentally drowned in a sea of Diet Coke last night. So I was totally out of contact, and pretty darn stressed about it. At one point I did try to get some sleep, but I just couldn't do it -- I woke up after an hour basically panicked about not being able to connect. (And the fact that I was jet lagged and missed Sam and Dan and the room was about 100 degrees probably didn't help either.)

So my cross-training yesterday consisted of walking through the airport (no short walk, considering that they changed my flight departure gate from one terminal to another, but even so I'd be kidding myself to say I broke a sweat). My run today is just not going to happen. I think what I'll do is skip it, take a walk on the beach instead, and start getting myself ready for Sunday's hill work. Trying to run hard in the first week on no sleep doesn't seem wise.

I can't tell if that's a cop out or not. Time will tell, I guess. I'm just trying not too beat myself up too badly or get too down about it right now. All the books say missing one run won't be a disaster, but getting injured will . . . .

The key is not to miss another. Time to keep going and work hard. Hopefully the blog will help. And anyway, that's the ONE BRIGHT SPOT in all of this: at least I finally, after three frustrating days of work-around solutions, can connect to marathonblog again.

Depending on how you look at it, I either did or didn't cross train today. I didn't cross train in the sense that I didn't set aside time to actually cross train. Nevertheless, at the beginning of my day, I walked from Buckle My Shoe to my office (about 20 blocks, or one mile), and then at the end of my day, I did the same walk in reverse. I also lifted a thirty-odd pound stroller down two flights of steps and then back up at the end of the day, so that ought to count for something, right? Or am I just fooling myself?

On the bright side, our new computer arrived, so now I can blog from home on the actual day of training, rather than from the office the next morning.

As long as we're on the subject, here's the report on my run last night:

30 minutes total, broken down as follows: 6 minutes at 5.8 mph, followed by 1 minute at 4.0 mph. Did this four times, and ended with two minutes of walking to cool down.

While I was running, I felt like the time crawled along, even when I distracted myself by trying to decipher what Greta Van Sustern was saying on CNN (the sound was off since I didn't have my headphones) based on the screen graphics. Then, when the walk breaks came along, it seemed like the minute just flew by and it was already to time to run again! By the third repetition, however, I think I had found my stride, and when I finished, I felt great. Make that tired, but still great.

Today is a cross-training day, which makes me happy, since my legs are a bit sore.

And now for the Daily Judah Report:

Tuesday Evening: 30 Minutes on the Treadmill, 2 minutes running at 4.0, 1 minute walking at 3.0.

Way to go!

This isn't really about my training last night, which went well, all things considered. Actually, Tasha's post reminds me of something that happened last week, before the official start of marathon training, which I had forgotten about until now. I was running on Shearer Hill Rd. in Vermont, and had just finished getting up that tough hill by the pretty farm. Needless to say, I was winded, and needed some self-motivation, so I began shouting, loudly, "I am a marathoner!" over and over. Until I passed the new house being built, and four guys standing next to a bulldozer... An embarrassed silence ensued, until one of them called out as I ran past, "Me too. Good luck."

So here's an inspiration. I ran last night with my sister. She's awesome, a real rock star. She ran a mile at a 9:40 pace, with one walk break that brought her down to 10 minutes or so. I think that's cool in itself. But the great thing is that she was disappointed. It should be around 8:40 or so, she said, and she was frustrated that she had a bad run. (I think it's just the treadmills in the gym in our building, because they're harder, which incidentally is something I should keep in mind when I'm frustrated with my own slow running in that gym.) And the REALLY great thing is that after the run, she went back down to the gym to do some weight training, and then came back upstairs to do some stretching and yoga before bed.

That's just inspiring, because I didn't feel that empowered about my body at 15 and I'm glad she does. It reminds me of how empowered I was feeling before Sam was born, and I want to get back there. So that's just one more thing to think about when I'm feeling frustrated about training, which I'm sure I will several times in the next 26 weeks.

Meanwhile, yesterday's run was too slow, but nevertheless a success. I was supposed to run for 20-30 minutes at a 5.8 pace with walk breaks. Actual was 2 miles in 25:27, as follows: 4.3 for six minutes, then a 1 minute walk break. Another 6 minutes running, starting at 5.3 with a steady progression up to 5.8, one notch every minute. Then a 2 minute walk break. By that point I was really tired, but really focused on finishing out the run. So I did one 2-minute running interval, followed by a 2 minute or so walk break, then started out running again at 4.3 and went up one notch every minute until I finished the 2 miles. Not too bad considering that I finished at a run and I didn't quit when I really wanted to.

The speed will come, I have to believe. I really want to do a run - maybe Sunday - on the treadmills at NYSC to see if they feel easier. I remember from last year that the gym in our building is very disheartening for some reason. I need to keep in mind that running on the real earth always feels much faster, like flying, and that I am going to have that super-fast track star feeling when I get to the real marathon.