I'm not sayin' it's time to change the name of this blog or anything, but tonight there was definitely some fast running in Saratoga on my part.
I ran three miles in 25 minutes, and finished a full 5K (3.1 miles) a few seconds later. My average pace was 8:51 per mile, which is about 60 seconds faster than usual for my training runs.
Without even meaning to run fast, I kicked it up a notch tonight on the pavement, basically because I had dinner plans and I only had a limited amount of time to exercise. The adrenaline that would speed me along at a race suddenly flooded out in the anticipation of a fun, relaxing evening ahead.
25 minutes has been my 5K goal since June, but it's never really felt within reach. It was always like, "well, maybe one day when I'm a real runner, I'll run a fast 5K and finish first in my age group."
Tonight's run was the first time I've broken out of the 26th minute -- calmly, naturally and completely unexpectedly.
Now I've recovered and I'm full of home-cooked pad thai and it's time to go to bed. More running tomorrow night, hopefully, although this weather forecast from weather.com does not sound promising:
A wind driven heavy rain. Low 63F. Winds SSE at 15 to 25 mph. Chance of rain 90%. Rainfall possibly over two inches.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Natural remedies
I had an intense headache when I left work tonight and shuffled the couple of blocks home through the dark, post-rainy-day mist.
It was a stressful, 10-hour day, complete with a few of the best headache-inducing incidents possible at work: having my computer crash multiple times, getting hung up on and not drinking enough water.
Every part of me yearned to walk in my door, throw my bags down, kick off my shoes and commence a full-on night of zoning out, complete with a large dose of ibuprofen, a nice tall glass/es of pinot grigio and a lame Netflix selection.
But no.
Another part of me wanted to go running and I knew that if I did, the headache would disappear on its own. I told myself that wallowing in the pain and calories would only lead to guilt later. Plus, due to work and traveling this weekend (check later this week for a post on Boston), it had been way too long since my last run.
So I set out for the East Side in the breezy, deliciously warm and humid evening and had myself a nice 4.6 mile run.
The headache was a distant memory before I clocked mile #2. Then I was flying up Caroline Street at race pace and keeping my breathing steady and strong, slowing down to a jog at intervals when I got tired rather than walking.
I ended it by taking on the same hill that served as the course finale at the Firecracker 4 in July. Compared to almost three months ago, my endurance was much greater. I ran the hill without stopping and did not come close to hyperventilating at the top, unlike last time.
It sure helped that tonight was about 25 degrees cooler than at that race, but I felt the difference nonetheless. I've done this hill since July 4th too, in other night-time summer runs, but not at the same steady pace and not without stopping.
With mission accomplished, I jogged home and flopped on the floor for awhile, pretending to stretch.
Then, I poured myself a nice tall glass of wine.
It was a stressful, 10-hour day, complete with a few of the best headache-inducing incidents possible at work: having my computer crash multiple times, getting hung up on and not drinking enough water.
Every part of me yearned to walk in my door, throw my bags down, kick off my shoes and commence a full-on night of zoning out, complete with a large dose of ibuprofen, a nice tall glass/es of pinot grigio and a lame Netflix selection.
But no.
Another part of me wanted to go running and I knew that if I did, the headache would disappear on its own. I told myself that wallowing in the pain and calories would only lead to guilt later. Plus, due to work and traveling this weekend (check later this week for a post on Boston), it had been way too long since my last run.
So I set out for the East Side in the breezy, deliciously warm and humid evening and had myself a nice 4.6 mile run.
The headache was a distant memory before I clocked mile #2. Then I was flying up Caroline Street at race pace and keeping my breathing steady and strong, slowing down to a jog at intervals when I got tired rather than walking.
I ended it by taking on the same hill that served as the course finale at the Firecracker 4 in July. Compared to almost three months ago, my endurance was much greater. I ran the hill without stopping and did not come close to hyperventilating at the top, unlike last time.
It sure helped that tonight was about 25 degrees cooler than at that race, but I felt the difference nonetheless. I've done this hill since July 4th too, in other night-time summer runs, but not at the same steady pace and not without stopping.
With mission accomplished, I jogged home and flopped on the floor for awhile, pretending to stretch.
Then, I poured myself a nice tall glass of wine.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Self-pat on the back
I took a hiatus from the office and hitting the pavement today, and drove down to Albany to hang out with other journos from the New York State Associated Press Association.
The Saratogian is a member of the AP, and this year I was given the opportunity to join in on their annual fall meeting, which was a day-long series of talks on state reform and accountability journalism.
For my part, I was asked to speak on a three-person panel with other winners of the AP's Depth Reporting award for 2009-2010, which I received for my series of stories published in November 2009 on homelessness in Saratoga County. The panel included a Times Union reporter and a Post-Star reporter. We spent about an hour talking about our investigative reporting projects and how they were managed in newsrooms with smaller staffs and less resources than ever.
What was cool is that people seemed genuinely interested in how the homeless series came together, and how I collaborated with editors, photogs, paginators and others to turn it from vision to reality. It was nice to be recognized for all that hard work I did last fall, when I spent countless nights at Uncommon Grounds, writing until I couldn't see straight anymore, wondering if it would ever be done, and if it did get done, if it would be worth reading. Well, I guess I got my answer!
The day was also a great opportunity to meet lots of other journalists from New York and the Capital Region in particular, and one also from Jackson, Mississippi -- the supremely accomplished and engaging Jerry Mitchell. He is an investigative reporter for The Clarion-Ledger there, and he told us stories over lunch about what it was like interviewing a former Ku Klux Klan member and how his work on Civil Rights-era cold cases ultimately led to several convictions.
If you're not a journalist, this might all sound like a big bunch of nerds gabbing about the seemingly strange stuff that gets them off, but to me, it was invigorating. It reassured my faith in the value of journalism and my desire to make it my career, despite all the tough stuff about the profession, and renewed my drive (which, I hate to admit, has been slacking considerably, lately) to keep going out there and telling stories, in some form or another.
Another notable part of the day was the appearance of gubernatorial candidate (in question) Rick Lazio ... although, from the way heanswered avoided questions from the reporters and editors gathered in the room, his status as a candidate may change in a couple days.
We had a drinks-and-mingle thingy, then dinner, and ended the looong day with an awards banquet, where Saratogian folks were among those who got up to receive several awards for awesome work. It was great, but I also left feeling like I needed a new brain to hold all the stimulus in. Or maybe I just needed to come home, curl up side by side with my also-blogging boyfriend, and write about it all.
Oy, I can't wait to put on my sneakers tomorrow and blast the miles out!
The Saratogian is a member of the AP, and this year I was given the opportunity to join in on their annual fall meeting, which was a day-long series of talks on state reform and accountability journalism.
For my part, I was asked to speak on a three-person panel with other winners of the AP's Depth Reporting award for 2009-2010, which I received for my series of stories published in November 2009 on homelessness in Saratoga County. The panel included a Times Union reporter and a Post-Star reporter. We spent about an hour talking about our investigative reporting projects and how they were managed in newsrooms with smaller staffs and less resources than ever.
What was cool is that people seemed genuinely interested in how the homeless series came together, and how I collaborated with editors, photogs, paginators and others to turn it from vision to reality. It was nice to be recognized for all that hard work I did last fall, when I spent countless nights at Uncommon Grounds, writing until I couldn't see straight anymore, wondering if it would ever be done, and if it did get done, if it would be worth reading. Well, I guess I got my answer!
The day was also a great opportunity to meet lots of other journalists from New York and the Capital Region in particular, and one also from Jackson, Mississippi -- the supremely accomplished and engaging Jerry Mitchell. He is an investigative reporter for The Clarion-Ledger there, and he told us stories over lunch about what it was like interviewing a former Ku Klux Klan member and how his work on Civil Rights-era cold cases ultimately led to several convictions.
If you're not a journalist, this might all sound like a big bunch of nerds gabbing about the seemingly strange stuff that gets them off, but to me, it was invigorating. It reassured my faith in the value of journalism and my desire to make it my career, despite all the tough stuff about the profession, and renewed my drive (which, I hate to admit, has been slacking considerably, lately) to keep going out there and telling stories, in some form or another.
Another notable part of the day was the appearance of gubernatorial candidate (in question) Rick Lazio ... although, from the way he
We had a drinks-and-mingle thingy, then dinner, and ended the looong day with an awards banquet, where Saratogian folks were among those who got up to receive several awards for awesome work. It was great, but I also left feeling like I needed a new brain to hold all the stimulus in. Or maybe I just needed to come home, curl up side by side with my also-blogging boyfriend, and write about it all.
Oy, I can't wait to put on my sneakers tomorrow and blast the miles out!
Monday, September 20, 2010
Sick week lapse; next week will be better
While this week was pitiful as far as physical exercise goes, it was pretty awesome in so many other ways. There was much consumption of rich food and alcoholic beverages, being irreparably spoiled by my amour and nice presents and cards and birthday wishes. All while dealing with one hell of a cold (the only part that was not awesome).
But now that my birthday week has come to a close, my cold has mostly disappeared, and I've got a couple of writing projects and the dishes out of the way, this weekend has been about getting back into my routine. That means running at least three times a week (no excuses!), going to sleep earlier and not eating such copious amounts of pizza.
Sunday, I ran from my home, up Broadway to the state park and looped around the Avenue of the Pines/Gideon Putnam Road and back, for a total of 4.9 miles.
Saturday I did a similar route, but drove to the park and did two laps around the Ave. of Pine route for 3.78 miles.
Monday, when I was sick, I thought it would be a good idea to get outside and exercise after sleeping all day and eating almost nothing. Remember, this followed the weekend of booze and cupcakes. Well, I won't make that mistake again.
It was tough getting back into my groove again this weekend, and now I can't walk very well -- but, I caught a few minutes of that runner's high that I really missed this week when I was busy sitting on my ass.
The weather has been cooler and it was windy today, but it makes for great running. No need to buy special cold-weather gear. Yet...
However, October is full of challenging racing opportunities, and I'm probably going to need some retail therapy to get through them all:
Oct. 3: The 17th annual Pit Run on my home turf in Oneonta
Oct. 17: Saratoga National Bank Cross Country Classic 5K here in the state park
Oct. 23: The Great Pumpkin Challenge 5K to benefit Saratoga Bridges here in the state park
Oct. 31: The Hairy Gorilla Half Marathon and Squirrelly Six Mile in Voorheesville
But now that my birthday week has come to a close, my cold has mostly disappeared, and I've got a couple of writing projects and the dishes out of the way, this weekend has been about getting back into my routine. That means running at least three times a week (no excuses!), going to sleep earlier and not eating such copious amounts of pizza.
Sunday, I ran from my home, up Broadway to the state park and looped around the Avenue of the Pines/Gideon Putnam Road and back, for a total of 4.9 miles.
Saturday I did a similar route, but drove to the park and did two laps around the Ave. of Pine route for 3.78 miles.
Monday, when I was sick, I thought it would be a good idea to get outside and exercise after sleeping all day and eating almost nothing. Remember, this followed the weekend of booze and cupcakes. Well, I won't make that mistake again.
It was tough getting back into my groove again this weekend, and now I can't walk very well -- but, I caught a few minutes of that runner's high that I really missed this week when I was busy sitting on my ass.
The weather has been cooler and it was windy today, but it makes for great running. No need to buy special cold-weather gear. Yet...
However, October is full of challenging racing opportunities, and I'm probably going to need some retail therapy to get through them all:
Oct. 3: The 17th annual Pit Run on my home turf in Oneonta
Oct. 17: Saratoga National Bank Cross Country Classic 5K here in the state park
Oct. 23: The Great Pumpkin Challenge 5K to benefit Saratoga Bridges here in the state park
Oct. 31: The Hairy Gorilla Half Marathon and Squirrelly Six Mile in Voorheesville
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
I'm 25 and I'm fine
It's minutes until the stroke of midnight on my official birth day, and I am sitting on the couch wrapped in blankets, popping cough drops, blowing my nose every two seconds and drinking tea. I guess that's what I get for partying all weekend long...
It was totally worth it though. While the weekend did not include any running, I did exercise my lungs a lot while laughing my head off with a couple of the best girl friends on the planet, as we worked our way through pedicures, a pitcher of margaritas, Mexican dinner deliciousness, Sunday brunch, and shopping. Phew. That's a long list of girly stuff.
Before all the girly stuff, a whole group of wonderful friends and family members joined me in celebrating a quarter of a century with a potluck picnic in the state park, as sunshine washed over us. I attempted to use an outdoor charcoal grill and baked cupcakes from scratch (not at the same time, both for the first time in my life!) and no one has called me yet complaining of food poisoning ... it's been more than three days so I think I'm safe.
In my family, we don't usually make a big deal out of birthdays, especially now that my sisters and I are older. We always take care to mark the occasion with a couple of cards and a special dinner with Mom and Dad, maybe a cake.
But this year is different. I'm celebrating so much more than a number and a day -- I'm celebrating, with relief and pride, the end of a long, tired period of grief and the renewal of self that could have only occurred after surviving a treacherous journey and conquering my personal Kilimanjaro.
Kinda vague, I know, but hey, it's the Internet.
This sentiment I attempted to make clear in a sort of speech at my birthday gathering on Saturday. It's sad but true -- I'm a whole lot more articulate when it comes to the written word, but I hope one thing came across in my garbled burst of emotion: This fall marks a real turning point in life and an occasion to acknowledge all the unanticipated goodness that has surrounded me this year. It has come in the guise of family and friends who never wavered in their love and support no matter the circumstances, as well as personal and professional successes. For all that I am grateful.
I'll give you readers a break now from all the serious stuff. My next post will be about something fun, like, you know, slow running. And how those cupcakes are contributing to my slooow, sloow running.
It was totally worth it though. While the weekend did not include any running, I did exercise my lungs a lot while laughing my head off with a couple of the best girl friends on the planet, as we worked our way through pedicures, a pitcher of margaritas, Mexican dinner deliciousness, Sunday brunch, and shopping. Phew. That's a long list of girly stuff.
Before all the girly stuff, a whole group of wonderful friends and family members joined me in celebrating a quarter of a century with a potluck picnic in the state park, as sunshine washed over us. I attempted to use an outdoor charcoal grill and baked cupcakes from scratch (not at the same time, both for the first time in my life!) and no one has called me yet complaining of food poisoning ... it's been more than three days so I think I'm safe.
In my family, we don't usually make a big deal out of birthdays, especially now that my sisters and I are older. We always take care to mark the occasion with a couple of cards and a special dinner with Mom and Dad, maybe a cake.
But this year is different. I'm celebrating so much more than a number and a day -- I'm celebrating, with relief and pride, the end of a long, tired period of grief and the renewal of self that could have only occurred after surviving a treacherous journey and conquering my personal Kilimanjaro.
Kinda vague, I know, but hey, it's the Internet.
This sentiment I attempted to make clear in a sort of speech at my birthday gathering on Saturday. It's sad but true -- I'm a whole lot more articulate when it comes to the written word, but I hope one thing came across in my garbled burst of emotion: This fall marks a real turning point in life and an occasion to acknowledge all the unanticipated goodness that has surrounded me this year. It has come in the guise of family and friends who never wavered in their love and support no matter the circumstances, as well as personal and professional successes. For all that I am grateful.
I'll give you readers a break now from all the serious stuff. My next post will be about something fun, like, you know, slow running. And how those cupcakes are contributing to my slooow, sloow running.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
This post has nothing to do with running
So it's almost 7 pm and I'm finding myself at home, having left the newspaper office after a day of writing and with an hour to think before I head out for the night to Job #2 and don't have time to think anymore.
I've been writing, writing and writing at work, even more than usual due to some short staffing, and then when I come home late at night, I've been trying ...to write...some more... to advance my personal and professional goals. But it's a struggle. I haven't been sleeping enough. My mind is too full. Sometimes I just need to claw my way out of my head, and I don't know how.
As usual, I am feeling anxious and overwhelmed about my current workload, and frustrated by how long it's taking me to complete things, and to put my goals into action. Weekends exist only as slightly less stressful days of work, but there is always work to be done. There is no time for mental relaxation.
Any other writers out there who really loathe the process of writing but feel compelled beyond your control to do it? Like there isn't any other thing you'd feel right spending so much time on but that saps your energy completely?
I mean, I love telling people's stories through words. A good story gives me a high better than any drug could.
For the first time, recently, I admitted to myself that this whole love-hate relationship with writing thing is not something that's really going to go away. If I'm going to write for a living, I better learn how to do it well without killing myself doing it. Otherwise, I'd better become a full-time pizza delivery girl, because what else is there for me to do?
Just kidding. Sort of.
Obviously, not so much writing has been going on the blog lately, and I haven't been running much this week either. I feel rather disgusting. I think it's a summer/fall transition thing. The seasons are changing, and with them, my habits. Spring and summer is when I go out into the world to be with people, drawing inspiration from nature and letting new ideas percolate. Fall is always full of beginnings for me, putting the ideas into action and spending more time curled up at home, writing late into the night.
As my birthday comes closer, the only gift I'm asking for is to figure out how to pay for life (i.e. student loans, rent, possibly food) and still have time for myself. It would be nice if that did not involve delivering pizza to drunk people until 2:30 a.m.
And with that, I'm off to deliver pizza to drunk people until 2:30 a.m.
I've been writing, writing and writing at work, even more than usual due to some short staffing, and then when I come home late at night, I've been trying ...to write...some more... to advance my personal and professional goals. But it's a struggle. I haven't been sleeping enough. My mind is too full. Sometimes I just need to claw my way out of my head, and I don't know how.
As usual, I am feeling anxious and overwhelmed about my current workload, and frustrated by how long it's taking me to complete things, and to put my goals into action. Weekends exist only as slightly less stressful days of work, but there is always work to be done. There is no time for mental relaxation.
Any other writers out there who really loathe the process of writing but feel compelled beyond your control to do it? Like there isn't any other thing you'd feel right spending so much time on but that saps your energy completely?
I mean, I love telling people's stories through words. A good story gives me a high better than any drug could.
For the first time, recently, I admitted to myself that this whole love-hate relationship with writing thing is not something that's really going to go away. If I'm going to write for a living, I better learn how to do it well without killing myself doing it. Otherwise, I'd better become a full-time pizza delivery girl, because what else is there for me to do?
Just kidding. Sort of.
Obviously, not so much writing has been going on the blog lately, and I haven't been running much this week either. I feel rather disgusting. I think it's a summer/fall transition thing. The seasons are changing, and with them, my habits. Spring and summer is when I go out into the world to be with people, drawing inspiration from nature and letting new ideas percolate. Fall is always full of beginnings for me, putting the ideas into action and spending more time curled up at home, writing late into the night.
As my birthday comes closer, the only gift I'm asking for is to figure out how to pay for life (i.e. student loans, rent, possibly food) and still have time for myself. It would be nice if that did not involve delivering pizza to drunk people until 2:30 a.m.
And with that, I'm off to deliver pizza to drunk people until 2:30 a.m.
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