If I've had any doubts lately about getting back on the pavement in a timely manner, and running the next race, what with the solid mass of pain in my calf, they're all gone now. And so is the mass of pain.
Maybe I just needed to do yoga and run five miles the next day!
Yes, five. That's what I ran Wednesday night after work. It was a first for me and a sign that I'm on the right track to getting ready for the six mile trail run on Halloween.
Warming up properly is what makes all the difference in sustaining the long run, but warming up is hard to do when you've been sitting at a desk all day and just want to get out there and start running.
What occurred to me last night is that I need to stretch and jog/walk about one mile/10 minutes, whichever comes first, to fully warm up. Then everything shifts into running mode. Last night was made easier by the perfect weather, and even a light spray of rain fell when I was getting super heated on the way back to Broadway. Plus, there was no traffic on the east side and smooth streets all the way.
It was definitely a workout I'd like to repeat soon.
Coming up next, according to my whiteboard, is a short recovery run tonight after work, Saturday morning yoga, and possibly some track practice Sunday at the SUNY campus when I head to Oneonta to hang out with the fam.
Unrelated to running but also a big first for me, here's some good news I received last week.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Autumn, yoga and birthdays on the brain
It's getting to be that time of year again, when the dregs of summer are wasting away and we're on the brink of the fall. It's getting darker earlier, the humidity has vanished, and saddest of all, I have to sleep in pants again.
All of this, plus the leaves gathering on the sidewalk, my birthday plans in the making and the multitude of back-to-school stories I will be writing at work is getting me thinking about running and autumn and how they will go together.
There will be new, water-repellent gear to shop for, the ability to fly down Broadway again, when the tourons leave (thanks to Mariah for that awesome term) and the big decision I am mulling over: whether to run outside straight through the end of the year or reup my membership at the YMCA for the colder months. Come to think about it, I will probably reup at the Y no matter what, just for the yoga and cardio classes, and the steam room.
The adjustment to running through the changing seasons has already begun to take hold, like this weekend, when I had to work my run around the pouring rain that went on for two days. The lack of heat and late light is also lessening my desire to run at night when I get home from work, so an alternative is going to have to be found, and soon.
Saturday I felt so physically off before leaving the house for my run that I actually considered just going to the Y and paying the one-time use fee to use the treadmill for the workout. My legs felt like bricks, my head was fuzzy and I couldn't muster any happy running energy. What the heck, body?
But I ran through Skidmore College anyway, a much wiser choice than paying for the gym or just flopping on the floor at home. The pavement on the campus is springy and smooth, there is little traffic, and the hills were a new experience for me, and something I've been wanting to work on.
Unfortunately, my left calf didn't want to work, and it didn't like the hills at all. Since then, it has been a stiff, sore pain for the last couple days.
Sunday I rested, Monday I begged a leg massage out of my companion (he threw in a gourmet, home-cooked dinner too, yum!) and today, I left work early and blissfully walked straight to yoga.
When I sat down on my mat in the studio, my first thought was "Ahh, I'm home." This thought stayed with me throughout the class. I felt like I could spend 90 minutes every day after work in the yoga studio.
My goal is to make yoga practice a more regular part of my week, in addition to running. They work so well together -- the yoga opening up the joints, strengthening the core and training the mind to stay calm and focused, all amazing techniques that lend themselves to better running. And obviously, there is the benefit of helping heal and prevent injuries by keeping the muscles limber.
It's also that time of year when half of the people I know have birthdays, including moi, so there is some celebrating to be done and some cake to be had.
Look for another post soon, maybe about cake. I love cake.
All of this, plus the leaves gathering on the sidewalk, my birthday plans in the making and the multitude of back-to-school stories I will be writing at work is getting me thinking about running and autumn and how they will go together.
There will be new, water-repellent gear to shop for, the ability to fly down Broadway again, when the tourons leave (thanks to Mariah for that awesome term) and the big decision I am mulling over: whether to run outside straight through the end of the year or reup my membership at the YMCA for the colder months. Come to think about it, I will probably reup at the Y no matter what, just for the yoga and cardio classes, and the steam room.
The adjustment to running through the changing seasons has already begun to take hold, like this weekend, when I had to work my run around the pouring rain that went on for two days. The lack of heat and late light is also lessening my desire to run at night when I get home from work, so an alternative is going to have to be found, and soon.
Saturday I felt so physically off before leaving the house for my run that I actually considered just going to the Y and paying the one-time use fee to use the treadmill for the workout. My legs felt like bricks, my head was fuzzy and I couldn't muster any happy running energy. What the heck, body?
But I ran through Skidmore College anyway, a much wiser choice than paying for the gym or just flopping on the floor at home. The pavement on the campus is springy and smooth, there is little traffic, and the hills were a new experience for me, and something I've been wanting to work on.
Unfortunately, my left calf didn't want to work, and it didn't like the hills at all. Since then, it has been a stiff, sore pain for the last couple days.
Sunday I rested, Monday I begged a leg massage out of my companion (he threw in a gourmet, home-cooked dinner too, yum!) and today, I left work early and blissfully walked straight to yoga.
When I sat down on my mat in the studio, my first thought was "Ahh, I'm home." This thought stayed with me throughout the class. I felt like I could spend 90 minutes every day after work in the yoga studio.
My goal is to make yoga practice a more regular part of my week, in addition to running. They work so well together -- the yoga opening up the joints, strengthening the core and training the mind to stay calm and focused, all amazing techniques that lend themselves to better running. And obviously, there is the benefit of helping heal and prevent injuries by keeping the muscles limber.
It's also that time of year when half of the people I know have birthdays, including moi, so there is some celebrating to be done and some cake to be had.
Look for another post soon, maybe about cake. I love cake.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Rest Tuesdays & A Racing Gorilla
Ever since I started using a white board to schedule my workouts a few weeks ago, I've noticed that Tuesdays have had a habit of falling through the cracks.
Most other days (except Fridays which are reserved for working two jobs back to back) I have been successfully finding ways to fit in running, and it is making me incredibly happy.
Like last night, for example, I multitasked to the extreme, dropping off a load of laundry at Cudney's and heading down South Broadway for a nice 3.48 mile loop around the east side while my car sat in the parking lot and my clothes got washed. I ran back to Cudney's, flipped the wash, headed to the grocery store while clothes dried, came back to pick em up and went home -- successfully minimizing my fuel usage and maximizing the time I had to get it all done.
It's ok, I know I'm a big dork. But it's the little things in life!
Tonight there was no such productivity, or there was in a different sense -- sleep productivity. After stuffing my face with organic vegetables and rice/bean deliciousness for dinner at Four Seasons, I waddled home to ... fall asleep with a bloated stomach for three hours, eliminating any chance for an early evening run.
So Tuesday was again a bust, but no matter. I'm looking forward to having two days off this week (!!!!), Thursday and Saturday, and will spend a couple hours combining yoga and long runs those days, in addition to a shorter run after work Wednesday night.
There are still, unfortunately, three weeks left of racing season here in Spa City, but as much as I'm looking forward to the Great Exodus, I'm already mourning the approaching end of summer. It's a good thing there are so many races happening in the area this fall. One I'm giddily excited just thinking about is this event, which I found on the Saratoga Stryders site tonight and am planning to do (the six-mile version, by the way): The Hairy Gorilla Half Marathon and Squirrelly Six Mile.
Another in October is the Saratoga Bridges Great Pumpkin Challenge.
Costume ideas are welcome.
 |
| The whiteboard. A place to record triumphs and failures. YBB, by the way, is a DVD workout of yoga and strength training. |
Most other days (except Fridays which are reserved for working two jobs back to back) I have been successfully finding ways to fit in running, and it is making me incredibly happy.
Like last night, for example, I multitasked to the extreme, dropping off a load of laundry at Cudney's and heading down South Broadway for a nice 3.48 mile loop around the east side while my car sat in the parking lot and my clothes got washed. I ran back to Cudney's, flipped the wash, headed to the grocery store while clothes dried, came back to pick em up and went home -- successfully minimizing my fuel usage and maximizing the time I had to get it all done.
It's ok, I know I'm a big dork. But it's the little things in life!
Tonight there was no such productivity, or there was in a different sense -- sleep productivity. After stuffing my face with organic vegetables and rice/bean deliciousness for dinner at Four Seasons, I waddled home to ... fall asleep with a bloated stomach for three hours, eliminating any chance for an early evening run.
So Tuesday was again a bust, but no matter. I'm looking forward to having two days off this week (!!!!), Thursday and Saturday, and will spend a couple hours combining yoga and long runs those days, in addition to a shorter run after work Wednesday night.
There are still, unfortunately, three weeks left of racing season here in Spa City, but as much as I'm looking forward to the Great Exodus, I'm already mourning the approaching end of summer. It's a good thing there are so many races happening in the area this fall. One I'm giddily excited just thinking about is this event, which I found on the Saratoga Stryders site tonight and am planning to do (the six-mile version, by the way): The Hairy Gorilla Half Marathon and Squirrelly Six Mile.
Another in October is the Saratoga Bridges Great Pumpkin Challenge.
Costume ideas are welcome.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Kickin' it in Brooklyn
This weekend was about three and a half days long, and a real treat. It didn't end until today around noon.
Things did not start out well on Saturday though -- I overslept and barely made it to the race on time. It took every ounce of determination I had to actually run it, because I knew I wasn't feeling it the moment I got to the start. I eeked out the 3.1 miles in 27:22, a passable time, I guess, but not an enjoyable experience on three hours' sleep and an upset stomach. Never. Again. working until 3 a.m. the night before an 8 a.m. race.
I took a long, mid-day nap to sleep off the disappointment and my overactive nerves. Later, I consumed about a gallon of coffee between back-to-back trips to Uncommon Grounds and Saratoga Coffee Traders, where I sat around wallowing in my melancholy and doing some real -- as in, income-generating -- writing.
Things turned around on Sunday, when I hopped in the car with my companion and took a somewhat spontaneous trip to Brooklyn. On the way there, I got to sit in a lawn chair on the side of the road in Connecticut for a couple of hours, watching lots of men with muscular, shaved legs pass me by. If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't ask.
In Brooklyn on Monday, my companion led us to JackRabbit, an awesome triathlon store in Park Slope. I got professionally fitted for the first time for a new pair of running shoes -- thanks to Todd the manager for all the help.
The fun just kept on coming in the form of Mexican deliciousness, barbecue deliciousness, a drink with friends at the incredible Zombie Hut, and a long walk across the Brooklyn Bridge and exploring the city with my very expert guide. Not necessarily in that order.
Things did not start out well on Saturday though -- I overslept and barely made it to the race on time. It took every ounce of determination I had to actually run it, because I knew I wasn't feeling it the moment I got to the start. I eeked out the 3.1 miles in 27:22, a passable time, I guess, but not an enjoyable experience on three hours' sleep and an upset stomach. Never. Again. working until 3 a.m. the night before an 8 a.m. race.
I took a long, mid-day nap to sleep off the disappointment and my overactive nerves. Later, I consumed about a gallon of coffee between back-to-back trips to Uncommon Grounds and Saratoga Coffee Traders, where I sat around wallowing in my melancholy and doing some real -- as in, income-generating -- writing.
Things turned around on Sunday, when I hopped in the car with my companion and took a somewhat spontaneous trip to Brooklyn. On the way there, I got to sit in a lawn chair on the side of the road in Connecticut for a couple of hours, watching lots of men with muscular, shaved legs pass me by. If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't ask.
In Brooklyn on Monday, my companion led us to JackRabbit, an awesome triathlon store in Park Slope. I got professionally fitted for the first time for a new pair of running shoes -- thanks to Todd the manager for all the help.
I also learned what pronation means and learned that my ankles pronate pretty severely. Hmm ... years of dancing on pointe shoes might have something to do with that. But the new shoes should help a lot.
 |
| 151 7th Avenue (between Carroll St. and Garfield Pl.) (718) 636-9000 Brooklyn, NY 11215 |
 |
They're called "Mizuno Wave Inspire 6" and they put my battered Nike Airs to shame. You had a good run NAs, but your time had come. Mizunos are ready to run!   |
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Insomnia
It's t-minus four hours until the 5K. I got home from job #2 a little while ago and wasted some time wandering around the apartment, moving things here and there.
I've filled my water bottle. I've set my alarm clock. My clothes and gear are laid out, I've studied the route and I even remembered to hydrate tonight.
And I may or may not have eaten three greasy chicken wings at work.
All that is left is to ... have a panic attack. How is it that I only have one clean sock right now?
I haven't raced in a month and my ankle is still on the fence about whether it's going to be cool tomorrow and let me run at full capacity or if it's going to be a jerk and put me in pain. My stomach is starting to knot up.
The good news is that I fulfilled all my training goals this week and I really enjoyed my runs. Three workouts totaled 11.65 miles and the race will make the weekly total 14.75 miles -- a record for one week.
Tomorrow, or should I say, today, the weather is supposed to be clear and cool and the roads of the route are straight and smooth.
26 (minutes) is the magic number. Here's hopin' ...
I've filled my water bottle. I've set my alarm clock. My clothes and gear are laid out, I've studied the route and I even remembered to hydrate tonight.
And I may or may not have eaten three greasy chicken wings at work.
All that is left is to ... have a panic attack. How is it that I only have one clean sock right now?
I haven't raced in a month and my ankle is still on the fence about whether it's going to be cool tomorrow and let me run at full capacity or if it's going to be a jerk and put me in pain. My stomach is starting to knot up.
The good news is that I fulfilled all my training goals this week and I really enjoyed my runs. Three workouts totaled 11.65 miles and the race will make the weekly total 14.75 miles -- a record for one week.
Tomorrow, or should I say, today, the weather is supposed to be clear and cool and the roads of the route are straight and smooth.
26 (minutes) is the magic number. Here's hopin' ...
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Night owl/early bird
Today I did something that was previously, as in six months ago previously, unthinkable: I woke up on a non-weekend day and went for a run in the daylight, before work, before doing almost anything else. In short, I started my work day with exercise, instead of ending it with exercise.
Now, this may sound unextraordinary to many of you early risers and jump-out-of-bed-at-the-crack-of-dawn getters-done, but to me, it is truly a feat. (Or possibly just a freak occurrence, so I don't mind if you stop reading this now and go back to Facebook.)
With the exception of a short stint as a school photographer in Tacoma, Washington in 2007, when I regularly rose at 5:30 a.m. or earlier each day to drive long distances and face gaggles of elementary school children as they lined up for their fall portraits, I have always been a staunch nocturnal being.
Thank goodness for 24-hour supermarkets, laundromats and gas stations. If not for them and their late-night services, I might never have a fridge full of food, clean clothing or a tankful of gas. Now if only the liquor stores would follow suit ...
I admire you greatly, you jump-out-of-bed-at-the-crack-of-dawn people, I really do. You complete a laundry list of tasks, and may even find the time to exercise, in the hours between when the sun rises and the time(s) I hit snooze.
And sure, I'd love to join the ranks of my family, friends and colleagues who operate on what Western society considers a "normal" wake/work/sleep schedule, both because life is more convenient that way, and so you'll all stop pestering me about my damn habits.
But the unpredictable routine of a 20-something journalista and pizza delivery girl by night does NOT bode well for this long-sought-after aspiration.
For example, one day I might enjoy a luscious lie-in until 11 a.m. and be scheduled to arrive at the newspaper at 3 p.m. for a night of copy-editing, which ends at 11:30 p.m. or midnight (like tonight. As an added bonus tonight, work on the copy desk included a round trip, 60 miles, to Troy, where we produce the paper when our Saratoga computer system fails, as it has all freakin' week. Yay, Citrix.) Then, for example, I'll get home in time to sleep a few hours before getting up at 7 a.m. to report on a school event that starts at 8. Or, I'll work a 10 p.m. to 3 a.m. shift on a Friday at job #2, then struggle to get to the newspaper before noon for the occasional Saturday shift. Throw in eating, showering, running, blogging, freelancing, keeping up with family and an attempt to have a social life, and I might as well not sleep at all.
When I am forced to rise early -- and when I must, I do -- my body does NOT cooperate well. My legs will take me to the place I'm supposed to be, and my eyes will be (half) open, but my brain is still sleeping. And if I haven't had time to down some coffee, forget it. For your own sake, just don't try to talk to me before 9 a.m. Sorry to say, I will not be a very pleasant or a very productive person at this hour, and many of my beloved family and friends can feel free to vouch for me on this in the comment section below.
However, I find that running has been gradually, slightly, changing all of that.
Case in point: When I ran the Firecracker 4 race on July 4th, I was excitedly recapping the experience over dinner to my sister Maureen later that same day. Sitting in on the conversation, eating his barbecued ribs contentedly, was my most favorite early riser, an easy-going and kind-hearted person who may be less accustomed to -- although he is quickly learning about (and I hope, learning tolove tolerate?) -- my sleeping habits, than my family, who have understood for years now that calling me or asking me to do anything important before 10 a.m. is pointless.
So, I told Maureen that I had voluntarily -- in fact, eagerly -- risen at 7 a.m. on that day, a Sunday, to prepare for the 8 a.m. race.
Her mouth went agape.
Aghast, she turned to my good-looking, rib-eating companion and warned him, "You know she doesn't do that, right?"
"I know," he replied, with a smile and some degree of complacency.
But, fantastically enough, I have done that. And though I'm not about to give up night running and all of its magic (more on that in another post) I will continue to do that for races -- Saturday is the Fasig-Tipton 5K at 8 a.m., which I'm planning to participate in -- and, with any luck, for the occasional pre-work workout. Because running tired and early is better than not running at all.
Now, this may sound unextraordinary to many of you early risers and jump-out-of-bed-at-the-crack-of-dawn getters-done, but to me, it is truly a feat. (Or possibly just a freak occurrence, so I don't mind if you stop reading this now and go back to Facebook.)
With the exception of a short stint as a school photographer in Tacoma, Washington in 2007, when I regularly rose at 5:30 a.m. or earlier each day to drive long distances and face gaggles of elementary school children as they lined up for their fall portraits, I have always been a staunch nocturnal being.
Thank goodness for 24-hour supermarkets, laundromats and gas stations. If not for them and their late-night services, I might never have a fridge full of food, clean clothing or a tankful of gas. Now if only the liquor stores would follow suit ...
I admire you greatly, you jump-out-of-bed-at-the-crack-of-dawn people, I really do. You complete a laundry list of tasks, and may even find the time to exercise, in the hours between when the sun rises and the time(s) I hit snooze.
And sure, I'd love to join the ranks of my family, friends and colleagues who operate on what Western society considers a "normal" wake/work/sleep schedule, both because life is more convenient that way, and so you'll all stop pestering me about my damn habits.
But the unpredictable routine of a 20-something journalista and pizza delivery girl by night does NOT bode well for this long-sought-after aspiration.
For example, one day I might enjoy a luscious lie-in until 11 a.m. and be scheduled to arrive at the newspaper at 3 p.m. for a night of copy-editing, which ends at 11:30 p.m. or midnight (like tonight. As an added bonus tonight, work on the copy desk included a round trip, 60 miles, to Troy, where we produce the paper when our Saratoga computer system fails, as it has all freakin' week. Yay, Citrix.) Then, for example, I'll get home in time to sleep a few hours before getting up at 7 a.m. to report on a school event that starts at 8. Or, I'll work a 10 p.m. to 3 a.m. shift on a Friday at job #2, then struggle to get to the newspaper before noon for the occasional Saturday shift. Throw in eating, showering, running, blogging, freelancing, keeping up with family and an attempt to have a social life, and I might as well not sleep at all.
When I am forced to rise early -- and when I must, I do -- my body does NOT cooperate well. My legs will take me to the place I'm supposed to be, and my eyes will be (half) open, but my brain is still sleeping. And if I haven't had time to down some coffee, forget it. For your own sake, just don't try to talk to me before 9 a.m. Sorry to say, I will not be a very pleasant or a very productive person at this hour, and many of my beloved family and friends can feel free to vouch for me on this in the comment section below.
However, I find that running has been gradually, slightly, changing all of that.
Case in point: When I ran the Firecracker 4 race on July 4th, I was excitedly recapping the experience over dinner to my sister Maureen later that same day. Sitting in on the conversation, eating his barbecued ribs contentedly, was my most favorite early riser, an easy-going and kind-hearted person who may be less accustomed to -- although he is quickly learning about (and I hope, learning to
So, I told Maureen that I had voluntarily -- in fact, eagerly -- risen at 7 a.m. on that day, a Sunday, to prepare for the 8 a.m. race.
Her mouth went agape.
Aghast, she turned to my good-looking, rib-eating companion and warned him, "You know she doesn't do that, right?"
"I know," he replied, with a smile and some degree of complacency.
But, fantastically enough, I have done that. And though I'm not about to give up night running and all of its magic (more on that in another post) I will continue to do that for races -- Saturday is the Fasig-Tipton 5K at 8 a.m., which I'm planning to participate in -- and, with any luck, for the occasional pre-work workout. Because running tired and early is better than not running at all.
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