Why You Don't Run In Church

Angie is one of my best friends, who I have been very close to since the first day of kindergarten. (She now lives along the Eastern shore with a husband and two babies). Growing up, we were both very good girls. However, one could probably argue that I was the instigator in most of our adventures. Our 20+ mile walk from her house to my house? My idea. Chasing the boys around the playground in elementary school? Guilty. Running blindfolded in the church? That was probably a great game I thought up, as well.

The first mistake is that Angie's church had a gymnasium. We grew up in a little town where churches kept their doors unlocked and no one bothered them. So one Saturday afternoon, an innocent game of basketball turned into an adventure in the sanctuary.

It started out as a simple "trust game", the kind where one person is blindfolded, and the other guides them around, tells them where to step, and what to do. After a few minutes, we ended upstairs in the Sunday School rooms. Right outside the Sunday School rooms was the sanctuary.

My first mistake was thinking that I knew what I was doing when I really didn't (a mistake I still make quite often). I was blindfolded, Angie was leading me. My second mistake was thinking I was funnier than I really am (another mistake I still make). Angie's instructions? Keep walking. My interpretation? Maggie-you-are-going-down-the-middle-aisle-so-you-have-plenty-of-room. Not true. I start running, thinking I'm funny and this is cool and isn't this great, and I hear Angie running behind me. And I felt the wall.

The moments after the impact are shady, at best. My first thought that I remember was "Thank God the cartilage didn't bust up into my brain and kill me". But a trip to the doctor's office later confirmed that yes, my nose was indeed broken, and no, nose cartilage can't be jammed up into your brain and kill you.

Fast forward to present day. For the most part, the breaking of my nose does not hinder my routine. And the small piece of bone you can feel on the side of my nose makes for a great conversation piece (again, here's me thinking I'm funnier than I am). The downside to having a unique nose bridge? I don't breathe through my nose very easily. I am a mouth breather.

Ted always says I make him feel tired. I sound like I'm dying long before I actually am, and if I allow myself, will actually feel like I am. I like to think it's part of my secret, a way to psyche out the competition...no one sees the huffer-and-puffer at Mile One as being a true threat. Little do they realize...hahaha. Broad Street is mine! :-)

Revolutions and Revalations

It surprises me what my body is capable of.

Ted, Dave, and I did the Revolutionary 5-mile run this past weekend at Valley Forge. Described as a "challenging" course (meaning "hard"), we prepared ourselves by incorporating hills into our daily runs, which isn't hard to do, where we live.

I felt as though I was flying through most of the race, regardless of the terrain. I pushed through parts where I previously would have taken a breather. I passed people that previously would have passed me. And I even lost half a lung at the water stop by trying to drink and run at the same time.

At the end, I felt I truly had given my all. But I don't recall when I improved that much, or when hills had been not quite the big deal they once were.

Overall, the race was great. The support was surprising for the location, which was nice. The Health Expo, which was after the race instead of the day before at packet pick-up, was a pretty good deal. Alot of free stuff, and after that race, I don't think anyone had any questions about whether they should take something or not...everyone felt like they earned it.

I've realized I'm capable of so much more than I was giving myself credit for. Phrases I used to use to give myself an automatic out (i.e. "I am not a hill runner", "I am not a fast runner") are slowly slipping from my vocabulary. I've learned I can push myself and succeed, and a little hard work goes a long way.

Fuel In, Fuel Out

Every runner, for the most part, understands the concept of fueling the body. It's general health class knowledge that what you put into your body is ultimately what is going to generate your energy level for the next few hours.

Ted and I are in desperate need of a trip to the grocery store. That is why last night, our pre-run fuel-in dinner consisted of greasy cheeseburgers and baked beans. It was only a 4-mile run, but not even 50 feet into it, I felt the wrath of the grill raking through my body.

The run itself was terrible. As great and as easy as the 10 miles was on Saturday, this 4 was the opposite end of the spectrum. We grumbled through it, we whined, we pitied each other, we half-heatedly encouraged one another. The wind was also a huge factor in the run, and the only thing worse than running up the hill on 2nd Street in town is running up the hill with wind hitting you in the face, and a group of firemen standing outside the fire hall (and you know you can't stop or even appear to be the least bit tired).

But despite how terrible we felt, despite how horrible the wind was, and despite how absolutely embarrassing the final time turned out to be, I was glad we went. I still felt good, and it really drove home the saying that you always return feeling much better than you left.

Is "being prepared" enough?

I can't imagine training for months, hard work, long runs, countless blisters--only to run the 26.2 miles in this weather! It really drives home the fact that you can be as prepared as you want to be--but on race day, you are ultimately at the mercy of Weather and the Elements (sounds like a bad rock band, doesn't it?). Good luck to everyone running Boston today. That ivy wreath will be well-deserved--even more so than normal!

On my own home front, Ted and I did a long run Saturday morning, which was almost literally the calm before the storm. Saturday morning was beautiful--it was sunny, warm, and we ran in pants and T-shirts. There were no signs of the looming storm and it felt like the start to a beautiful weekend. We did 10 miles, with hills incorporated in it. It was my first 10 without walking. Ted's first 10 ever. It felt good.

The run was my favorite kind--slow, steady, scenic. I had mapped out a new route and we ran it...it was on back roads where neither of us had been before, and it was adventurous. It was the kind of run I felt convinced marathon training will be easy if it is anything like this, that I could have gone on forever. We averaged about 10:30 minute miles, not great, but steady, so I can't complain. I'm hoping Broad Street will be a bit quicker of a pace--with the smooth course and race-day adrenalin both playing for us.

I had packed the post-it note with the directions for the run in my windbreaker pocket, but stowed my windbreaker about 2 miles into the run when it got too warm for it. I stuffed it behind a bush at a local elementary school, and was about a block away when I realized the post-it note was still in the pocket. We decided to wing it, and figured we wouldn't get lost, but just off track, at very worst. We were fine.

The rest of the weekend was spent painting the bathroom. This week will probably be a lighter week of running, with the Valley Forge 5-mile coming up next weekend. It will be the first race of the season--I'm looking forward to it!

Changing Seasons!?

I think I'm being outrun.

Ted, Dave, and I ran in Valley Forge over the weekend. We are gearing up for the Revolutionary Run on the 22nd, and decided to run the trails in the park, just to get an idea to what the course may be like (after comparing the map, and what we ran, I don't think we followed the course at all). Dave pulled away pretty early, like he always does (the kid is a machine, I tell you). Ted pulled away shortly after and I never could catch him.

That's when I came to the realization just how much maintenance my body needs to keep a certain fitness level. Ted can do one short run between long runs and be good to go. I need at least two, one of which occurs within 48 hours of the other. I was proud of where he's gotten...far way from the days last summer of complaining and whining after two miles. I was proud, had a sense of ownership, and encouraged him.

And I was annoyed.

Then I was annoyed that I was annoyed. I was jealous that he could do that, I was ashamed that I couldn't, I was nostalgic for the days that I could, and I wanted desperately to be up there with him.

Which made me decide that I needed to step it up, that Ted had raised the bar and I was going to need to work a bit harder to be on his level.

However, there is one small difficulty to doing this. Being a creature of habit, I fall very quickly into a routine and have trouble breaking this. My routine? Running in the evenings and sleeping in the mornings. That is why Monday morning's alarm clock was met with a reset, and the un-spring-like temperatures didn't help (to keep with today's entry title, I think seasons are slowly changing and in the future we'll be swimming on Christmas and the Aussies down under will be building the snowmen).

Last night Ted and I ran a short, easy 4-miler. We didn't eat before we ran, just came home from work and left. I had a great run. Ted's was shaky. He kept the pace good, but he said he was sore and felt tired through it. And I realized how different our running styles are. I've gotten accustomed to running at night, but my body still responds best to not eating much before a run, where Ted seems to do best running within a few hours after eating a meal.

So maybe I'm not being outrun after all. Maybe I've just discovered how our bodies respond differently, and what we each need to do separately to have the best run together. And we're both realizing that what works for him to run, doesn't work for me, and vice versa.

Or maybe I just need to wait and see how the runs this week and the weekend work for us.

Body vs. Brain

Runnersworld.com recently had a poll posted on their website that went a little something like this:

During long runs, what gives out first--your body or your brain?

The results when I looked were almost even, with body leading brain by something like 53% to 48%, or something along those lines. I had initially voted "Brain", but then really got to thinking about the response.

Does my "brain" go first during a long run? At what point does it decide it's done motivating me and begins to make me focus on the coffee at home, or the pool waiting, or the list of chores I have to accomplish that evening? Or does the body really go first, sending the signal to my brain that it is done, which causes the brain to think of alternative activities I could be doing at that very moment? Screw the chicken or the egg--the real question is the body or the brain?

I've come to the conclusion that the brain and the body are really a conspiracy teamed up against my will. My will has a go get 'em attitude and if will alone were a factor, I would already have marathon after marathon under my belt. The will makes me forget the pain my body experiences, and the doubt my brain chips in, when it comes to training. At this very point in time, all I remember about Broad Street last year and the Philly Half this past November is the excitement, the fun I had, and the overwhelming sense of pride at completing the races. That is my will--screaming "Let's do that again!"

Now that training is underway, my body and my brain are beginning to see how far they can push the envelope. I think the two tag team...one day my body decides to be sore and tired and uncooperative. The next, my brain decides to issue an "I need something cozy and comfortable" alert. And between the two, my will hardly stands a chance.

Until it relies back on how race day feels.

At least my body and my brain let the will have its moment in the sun...and at least, as much as they may fight, at the end of the day, the will does win the battle.