Coffee Milk Week 10: Push It (Real Good)

And here we are, with our weekly installment of holy shit, Rae's still running.  And likes to talk about it.  What else is new.  I apologize in advance for wasting 5 minutes of your day, but hey, I appreciate the fan club.  I'll remember you when I'm famous for god knows what.

This was a step back week for me, which means little except the volume of the long run was decreased slightly.  Most standard plans give you an actual recovery week, Hanson posits you are a tough idiot  badass and don't need one.  While I felt a little off a few weeks ago, this week I was raring to go after my long run success of week 9.  On the books for the week included back to back 10 milers at an 8:50 pace, 3 easy runs, and a 7-8 mile tempo run.

I learned a few things during this 7 day stretch, namely that I fail at nailing a long run pace outside, regardless of whether or not I run solo.  My 10 milers clocked in at an 8:19 pace and an 8:18 pace respectively, a good 30 seconds plus faster than prescribed.   This is why I treadmill run (reason zillion) - I can control the pace. But when the temps are in the mid 30s and sunny in February, you pull on your tights and get outside.  I'm just really glad I don't really train with the Hanson brothers, as their philosophy is to dole out push ups to runners that complete the runs faster than the pace prescribed.  Looks like I owe them about 400 push ups.  Yikes.

My tempo run also clocked in at a faster than prescribed pace, but thankfully I have runner's ego to blame for that one.  My plan asked for 7-8 miles at an 8:10 pace.  I did this run with The Banter, a local triathlete who bosses me around at the pool (don't kid yourself, I ask for it and basically seek him out for said bossiness). 

The Banter doesn't do selfies, so I had to improvise.

Despite our repertoire of  99% sarcasm, we actually push each other pretty well and I'm glad to have him as a training partner and friend.  We did 7 miles together for a shared tempo run and hit the overall pace well, though the four middle miles clocked in at 7:31, 7:35, 7:25 and 7:15 - all of which are either at my mile repeat pace or slightly faster.  Whoops.  Never underestimate the power of not looking like a wuss during a tempo run - he kicked my ass and it was great! This was an awesome boost for me, as I have a 5 mile race coming up and would love to smash a 7:30 pace overall. I also think I need to revisit my speed work paces - clearly I am not giving myself enough credit!

The rest of the weeks runs were pretty spot on - I still can't find recovery pace like they want me to, but aim for a 9 minute mile, which seems like a good compromise (actual recovery pace - 9:15).  I got in two good swims and two good bikes, which helped with the recovery and tri-base.  I even did some yoga (or someone stole my garmin and uploaded the stats.  I'm gonna go with that).

Week 10 mileage:

Running: 48.6 (WTF is that)
Biking: 30
Swimming: 4900 yd

Up next is a pretty heavy duty week - mile repeats, two 8 mile tempo runs, and a 16 mile long run (where we will not attempt to break my half PR again...and I so am not crossing my fingers behind my back).

6 weeks till show time...getting excited!

Coffee Milk Week 9: Walkin on Sunshine

I swear, training for a marathon (or any other endurance event) is like being in a long term relationship.  There are periods of time where it seems to be the best thing in your life - you can't stop smiling, the world is made up of unicorns and rainbows, and people start sending you hate mail based off of the happy bullshit you post online.

Then the world turns, and its the biggest pain in the ass on the planet.  Everything is wrong.  You just can't even.  You don't post this crap online, because, hey, who needs to see that you had a shitty day and are consoling yourself with a bag of M&Ms and a glass of wine.  And you look for the closest victim to unleash your bitchiness on (who usually is your significant other...unless he's the problem, then god help him :-P)

But no, this is not about Greg.  I swear.  Ahem.  This is about running.  Last week seemed to be my "meh" week, where I seriously started to reconsider everything related to running, especially doing it fast.  While I got everything done, running 10 miles at an 8:45 pace was a ginormous chore, leading that nasty logic mode of my brain to question how I expect to hold an 8:05-8:30 pace for 26.2 miles (I always calculate based off 26.5, as no one runs a perfect marathon...to go under 3:45 I need to run an 8:30 pace, to BQ, I need under 3:35, which is an 8:05 pace).  While I intend to go for the former this marathon, I have absolutely no qualm about taking the latter :-D.

Then, the cyclical nature of coming off a back week intervened this week.  I nailed my tempo run, even with a bathroom stop. (8 miles at 8:05).  I slayed my half mile repeats (currently at 7:15 pace - I need to re evaluate this).  And my long run.  Oh, my long run.

I've blogged about my runs with the Irondequoit Bay Runners before - a great group of (mostly) guys who are serious runners - training for Boston, running a sub 1:30 half, or a 4:30 half ironman.  You know, simple goals like that.  I wish they would get ambitious.  I've run with them a few times, at the behest of my friend Ken, who is an ageless wonder that seems to get faster as he ages up (and also happens to be a great guy).  The loop they run is 14 miles, has 800 feet elevation gain, most of which lives in 2 steep hills in the last 3 miles.  The first time I ran it with them, I hit my 13.1 mark in 1:48, which was a minute faster than my half marathon race PR.  The second time, amidst black ice, we hit the half marathon mark in 1:47.  These crazy guys, while running much faster than I really should for a long run (these are usually done one to two minutes slower than race pace - Hansons method calls for a bit faster - my long run pace is 8:45).

I've used the IBR guys to help pace me every other week, lest I burn out.  Sunday called for 15 miles.  Friday, I managed to jack up my calf swimming (don't ask) so I ditched my run for a bike ride Saturday and compressioned and soaked the shit out of it.  Sunday dawned a beautiful 20 degrees with light winds at 7am - perfect February weather when you live in NY.  I met up with Ken, Kevin, and a new runner (to me) Jeff to start our trek round the bay.  I ran out of gu's, so I stole my son's Mario fruit snacks (which were delish).  I made the tactical error of telling these speed demons I needed 15 instead of 14, so they planned for an extra out and back in Webster at mile 6 (thereby killing my bailing proclivities).  And we were off.  I have to say, when you find yourself running faster than your mile repeat time (that would be a 7:25) 3 miles into a long run, you should either pray, start drinking, or tactically cover up your garmin.  I admit to the first one, amidst a ton of bad jokes (these poor guys - I don't know how they put up with me.)  As we trekked on, Ken and I pulled ahead about mile 8, and I noticed at mile 9 I was going to go under 8 minute miles for 10 miles - something I had never done before.  Sure enough, we hit 10 miles in 1:18 and change, and I noticed Ken starting to strategically check his watch.  I reminded him the goal was not to break my half PR every week, and he smirked at me.  I started doing mental math and realized not only was he trying to break my PR - he was trying to get me under 1:45.  We had a good laugh about that, as the hills hit.

And managed to hit mile 13 not in 1:45.  Or 1:44.   But in 1:43:14.  I just broke my friggin half PR (from 2 weeks ago) by 4 minutes.  Oh my freaking god.  I swear I proposed to Ken right out by the bay.  It was super romantic.  Then I remembered I was married and also, quite gross looking (and smelling) after almost 2 hours of effort.  Which one mattered more, I'll never tell.  I'm pretty sure we postponed ay wedding planning....but he still wins the prize for making my day!

With that high in the bag, we finished out our run with the goal of doing 15 miles in under 2 hours, and even with the steepest hill on the route at mile 14, we handily finished 15.1 miles in 1:59:21, with a pace of 7:54.

I can't even begin to explain to you what this run did to me. I actually felt I could keep going and bag in 11 more miles in 95 minutes, which is giving me very, very dangerous thoughts.  Boston thoughts. I also can't even believe that we averaged a 7:52 pace for a half marathon - a race I never believed I would go under an 8 minute mile...on a hilly course, nonetheless.It's a crazy feeling.  For years, I have enjoyed running, and in the last few years, embraced it with a passion that brings me to run nearly every day.  But there's a big difference between what I thought I could do and what I am actually doing now.  It's surreal to be called "fast" or a "bad ass" by people that I consider  to be both.  To be asked to help pace someone that I think is way too fast for me.  To be included with the "big dogs" and not feel as though I don't belong, or am holding them back.

And while it's still scary as shit, its exhilarating.  And so damn exciting.  I am so amped for this race season, I practically dance every time I think about it.  (Which no one wants to see, so I keep that to my own space most of the time).

So week 9, thank you for bringing the faith back.  I promise to remember you when I invariably hit the struggle bus at least one more time in the next 7 weeks...and to reread this post when I hit taper.

But for now, I think I'll give my pal Des(i Linden) a call.  See what she's got planned for a long run this week and all.

(I crack myself up).

Week 9 Mileage:

Running: 51.2
Swimming: 3.5
Biking: 35

Also...asking for a friend...if you PR on a training run....does that legit count as a new PR?  (Strava says I did it....just sayin). 

Coffee Milk Week 8: Flying Solo

Well, I'm halfway there.  And oddly enough, this post wasn't graced with a Bon Jovi title.  I may have just lost my Geneseo alumni badge with that one.  Oops.

After last weeks karmic b*tch slap, I'm happy to say that this week calmed down somewhat in terms of life.  Work is absolutely nuts, but thankfully the powers that be have actually been letting me do my job, which is both exhausting and exhilarating.  We managed to healthify up the house by the end of the week, thank god.  And the somewhat sophomoric drama I got involved with in my inner circle....well I walked away from that.  At times I do remember that I'm a grown ass adult (ok, I know.  I went too far).

While my personal life seemed to chill the f*ck out, my training seemed to take a nosedive.  Figures.  I have realized that I run my best when I'm riled up....angry, exuberant, miserable....any intense feeling manifests itsef into a terrific run.  The status quo?  Not so much.  Before I get all introspective (its a damn mess in there, no one wants that), I also could chalk it up to the midway point of training.  I'm 8 weeks in to a 16 week plan - its time for those niggles, self doubt, and the lack of scary beginnings but no real clarity for the end goal in sight.  It doesn't help that my "pacer" that wanted to help me PR backed out of the race - she has a new job in NYC and can't train enough to do the race.  While travelling solo to a marathon and sherpa'ing myself is really no big deal, it was somewhat of a let down after the last two months of thinking we were doing this together to know that I'm flying solo.  So right now I'm systematically plotting to kidnap someone in my vicinity to race this sucker with me...or do the the half....or drive my sorry ass home...  who I think might be dumb enough to fall for my shenanigans.  Watch out, it might be you.

In spite of myself, my step back week wasn't too bad.

Week 8 Mileage:

43 running
3.5 swimming
20 biking

I had a few niggles toward the end of the week in my ankle, which I'm keeping an eye on.  My weekday runs felt kind of flat - while I hit my paces, my garmin flashed the "unproductive" status for training effort, which to me, is basically a damn accusatory monkey in the corner, judging me on every move I make.  Since I'm not that bright, I grudgingly cut down a few workouts, stretched more, and ate more chocolate to console myself.

On the bright side, my "long run" of 10 miles felt super easy, and I rewarded my post run high by whipping out my credit card and making some very important purchases pre race.  A hotel to stay at (good call, Rae - cars are not that great of an idea).  A new pair of sneaks.  A hot pink running visor.  A hot pink sports bra with a butterfly skull (I'm such a bad ass).  And just for shits and giggles, a new tri team. 
I've been doing quite a bit of swimming and running with members of the Grim Reapers Fitness Northeast (GRFNE) and they seem, for the most part, to be pretty awesome guys.  Somehow, I was under the impression that these fast as hell dudes were, in fact, a male club made of men who just liked hot pink.  When my fellow exercisers called me a dumb ass corrected me on my wrong assumption, I happily signed up for sarcasm, happy hours, and workouts with fast people that scare the shit out of me super fun people.  While I've only met seven or eight of them, I'm pretty confident this was the right choice and that 2019 is gonna be a blast.  Plus their kit is hot pink.  And while I have no idea why that's my tri color (oh wait yes I do) the cool kit cinched the deal.

I'm gonna pretend that I can get away with buying the singlet for now to run a marathon in.  I'll deal with the fact that in order to be part of this tri team they might in fact expect me to ride a bike at some point this year.

Ahh, my poor bike, who continues to stare at me as from a corner as I pump out speed workouts on the treadmill, silently and consistently reminding me that one day, I will learn to ride her without fear.  I've started checking out books online such as "Riding for Dummies", and "You've done 3 ironmans, you moron, perhaps you should learn to not be afraid to ride your damned bike?"  I'm considering buying the latter.

Until then, I might need to add this to my workout inspo wall to remind me to live my best life, even if it means conquering the two wheeled beast:

"We don't beat the Grim Reaper by living longer, we beat the Reaper by living well and living fully, for the Reaper will come for all of us.  The question is what do we do between the time we are born and the time he shows up.  It's too late to do all the tings that you're gonna kinda get around to".
-Randy Pausch (His book was epic. Totally recommend)

2019 is the year.  THE year.  To fly in the face of fear and make a leap.  Even if it results in failure, it's better to have gone for it then to always wonder "what if".  I refuse to make this the year of wondering what might have been.  Who's with me?  (No, seriously.  Anyone want to do a road trip to Rhode Island with me in April?? I have crappy 80s music and an extra bed!)

Coffee Milk Weeks 6 and 7: Permanent Vacation

And just like that, my great intentions of blogging go by the wayside.  Whoops.  I won't anger my few devoted readers by throwing out excuses about *cough* vacation, but I do admit there were a few palm trees that got in the way of posting week 6.  Lest you throw too much hate mail my way, week 7 made up for it with enough karmic ferocity that I almost regret my vacation.  Almost.

Ok, I lied.  Jamaica was epic, amazing, and there were only a few reasons I even came back.  Like the ones I birthed.  And maybe one more.  I'll leave that one vague and get on with the running part.

Week 6:  Running Miles - 48

We left for Jamaica on Saturday, so most of my week was spent on the dreadmill or the sleeted streets of the Roc.  I managed to secure a few legit runs, stayed on course, and took a rest day for our travels, saving one easy 7 miler for Sunday.  It was a pretty low key week, with the biggest challenge being the swing from a 10 degree 7 mile tempo run done in layers to an 85 degree beach run in a sports bra and shorts.  Yep, it was a real first world problem.

I also met a new man on vacation, which may in fact belong in the romance section of my blog (HAH, that;s a good one) - a wonderful, mature French man in his 50s who sidled up to me and requested a few one on one dates in a very suave french style.  Mon Dieu.  We got sweaty together a few times and had a very delicious, short lived fling.

On the roads.  During some tempo runs.  You see, the M dot tattoo happens to be some sort of magnet for us crazy runners -when we see one, it acts as a homing beacon to attract a fellow nut job that's also on a 6:30 morning run during vacation at a friggin beach.  In my case, it was a very nice man named Pascal from Montreal, who chatted with me through 24.5 miles over 4 days about Ironman Mont Tremblant (now on my to do list for 2020), Norseman (on my holy shit that's incredible but I may die list) and about everything in life in between.  We hit that sweet spot of running camaraderie that allowed for a similar pace, easy chatter, and since he was staying on the luxury side of the resort I got to do some extra exploring of how the other half lives.  Wins all around.

The took up week 6 and most of week 7 training until we got back early Thursday, where it seemed karma decided to throat punch me for daring to take 5 days on the beach.  First, there was a snow (errr, cold) day.  (We seriously never got these in the 80s and 90s....just sayin).  Then Rob got sick and stayed home.  Then Greg got sick.  Then I had a massively ridiculous high school drama with some friends.  Then work...well, I won't get into that.  Suffice to say it's great to be needed, but....not so much.  Job security, right? To top it off, we had to have a parent teacher conference for my histrionic older child, which, to be fair, after the last 5 days, I'm feeling him totally.

In spite of all of that, I'm healthy (knock on wood), kicked it at my tempo and speed runs in week 7, and hit a mileage high for the week:

Week 7:  Running Miles - 52

Also of note, I joined the Irondequoit Bay Runners for another edition of 14 miles "Round the Bay" in black ice on Sunday - with two guys I never could keep up with in a sane reality.  Ken (middle) does a great job of hanging with me and I hope I didn't slow Matt Speedster Kellman down too much (left) but these two running paragons of mine have given some hope to my lofty goals for 2019 - we held an 8:12 pace for 14 miles, even while doing some ice dancing.  Score.  According to Garmin, I PRed the half again at 1:47 and change, but I also might have slipped it a 10 spot to lie to me after the crappy few days post vacation.

Hey, you do what you gotta.

8 weeks till show time - lets keep it up.

*Post Note - The lack of mention of biking was not an error in this post.  And no, I don't want to talk about it.  For swimming, I got in some lovely open water swims, along with a new speed record for 100 yards at the local Y in a last minute "race" prior to vacation.  Greg said he wasn't working that hard.  I demand a rematch.  Either way, the sweet rewards were worth the effort.*