WTH Have I Been????!!!

WHERE THE HELL HAVE I BEEN??

I'VE GOT A LOT OF NERVE, SAUNTERING IN HERE AND UPDATING THE BLOG LIKE I HAVEN'T BEEN MISSING IN ACTION FOR TWO WEEKS!!!

~hangs head in shame~

I hate it when I yell at myself. Well, no. Not really. I come up with some pretty creative insults for myself.

But enough of this petty schizophrenic bickering!

I'm here! I'm still running! Race day is in 19 days!!! I'm still training! And aside from a temporary setback last week, I'm on track!

Let's see - last time I posted was May 4th. Since then, I've run a 9 miler, walked a 10 miler and jogged/walked an 11 miler. And ran a ton of little (heh, I remember when 3 miles wasn't so little) 3 and 4 mile runs. The 9 miler felt FANTASTIC. That was an excellent run, and I wanted to turn right around and run it again. The 10 and 11 milers were problematic, as I came down with a strep infection on the 14th, and haven't TOTALLY recovered from it yet. So the 10 miles on the 15th was walked. And I skipped all the little runs the week of the 17th. I got back on track on the 22nd and jogged/walked the scheduled 11 miles, which was more than I thought I could do.

Tonight, I've got 3 miles scheduled, and I can't WAIT to get to it, seeing as how this will be the first run in over a week when I can breathe through my nose.

YAY FOR NOSE BREATHING!!

In fact I'm so happy to be feeling better, I'm working my way through a bag of Twizzlers to reward my immune system.

What? It's fuel. Shut up.

I promise to be better about updating the blog. Life and job and craziness and family (sometimes crazy family) intervened. Mea culpa. Like I said, race day is 19 days away, so there will be lots of opportunities to bore you with my progress.

Aside from last week's strep setback, I've been feeling incredibly lucky to experience this process of training and challenging myself. As I was discussing with my friend Lauren, each inch, each mile I run digs the well of my potential that much deeper, and each nickel I raise helps find a cure, and supports blood cancer patients and their families. It's a pretty fantastic feeling.
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Update:
3 miles in 33 minutes! not bad for the first short run after being sick for a week!

Yeah, I Really Need To Change My Route

Yesterday was a rest day, but I was feeling SO good about Sunday, I decided to give the 8 miles another go. I knew in the back of my head that I probably wouldn't get all eight in before the sun went down, but I wanted to get out there and enjoy the beautiful sunshine and fantastic breezes. So I suited up in the lycra, and last year's Freihofer singlet.

I'm not sure I should wear that singlet again. It has a habit of riding up, and no one wants to see me run in a belly shirt. Trust me.

I set out at 7pm, along my regular route. I run in a development that has a 4 mile loop, a 2 mile loop and a 1 mile loop. Any combination of those loops will get me the mileage I want. Thing is, when you run it pretty much every day, things get familiar, and your mind wanders.

I had a great run - about 6 miles in 1:10. But my mind was wandering "oh look so and so got a new car", "that house is for sale again?" "is it the law that only volvos and bmw's are allowed on this street?"

I had a feeling that if I were focused, my time might have been better.

Nevertheless, it was a great run, and the weather totally made up for it's poor showing on Sunday!

Weekend recap

What a weekend!
We had a lot to do this Saturday, so I flipflopped the training schedule. Instead of 8 miles on Saturday, and 3 miles on Sunday, I did 3 miles on Saturday and....well, we'll get to Sunday in a minute.

Saturday dawned bright and sunny, and since it was hazmat day in our town, we loaded up the car with all the old paint cans, cleaners and small appliances we had and trekked them all over to the town garage. Then we cam home and I suited up for my 3 mile run.

It was FAIL for pace, WIN for charm.

I'm thinking about changing my running route. I run through a new development, and since I walk my dog there a lot in addition to doing the training, I've gotten to know a lot of people (by their dog's name, mostly). Since Saturday was a brilliantly sunny day, lots of people were outside, doing lawn work. And friendly waves turned into short chats and offers of water. Sweet, and neighborly, but disastrous to my time. Not that I really care about time, but I do like to keep things consistent.

Sunday was another story. It was hot, humid and sticky, and by the time my morning committments were out of the way, the sun was blazing and it was 87 degrees outside. I headed out, forgot the sunscreen, and pretty much collapsed after 4 miles. I was so incrdibly disappointed with myself.

I dragged myself home, and, after a vicious bout of self-loathing, determined to get out there after the sun went down, and finish what I started. And I did, with time to spare. So that was pretty redemptive! As I said before, anger is a great motivator for me!

Today is supposed to be a rest day, but I'm going to get out there tonight (it's cooled down a lot) and attempt those 8 miles again, all in one fell swoop. Wish me luck!

Six Weeks = Halfway There.

Today's 4 miles got itself run in 48 minutes. I'm pretty much stuck at the 12:00/mile pace, but as I said before, I'm not bothered! It gets me to the finish line in under 3 hours! And this isn't about time, or racing. It's about doing something concrete to help people who suffer from blood cancers.

I say "got itself run", because today seemed to zip by on fleet feet! I took the afternoon off from work, so the day already seemed preternaturally short. I got home at 1pm, changed into running gear and headed out the door. Forty eight minutes later I was showering, doing laundry, and then headed out the door to a late afternoon rehearsal at SUNYA (I'm ringing with the UAlbany Chorale on a few pieces for their spring concert). Then it was a quick stop at Subway for a healthy sub and out the door for another choir practice, this time church choir. I look back on the day and I hardly remember doing the running at all! I remember when four miles seemed like a Really Big Deal. Now it's a blink of an eye! Wow!

We're at the six week point. Halfway done with training. Halfway to race day. But it's not all downhill from here. It's going to get incrementally harder, week by week, til race day. I have to confess I am daunted. These long runs are a little scary. I have to keep the mindset that "you did this much mileage last week. you only need to do ONE MORE MILE than you did last week. you can do this."

It also helps to imagine Doug Moak grinning at me and saying "move your skinny butt, McShane!". Doug was an awesome motivator!

I'm also really worried about not meeting my fundraising goal, but I have faith that things will work out. It's been a real honor to train with the LLS and TNT teams, and I'm going to make sure I make all my donors proud of me!

Do Not Give Me Percoset!

Hello yet AGAIN! It's been a crazy two weeks, so here's your update.

The training is going great - I haven't slacked on the mileage, but it is getting HARD. Really hard. I'm officially out of my comfort zone. Last Sunday, I ran 7 miles in 1:24, which is a 12 min/mile pace. I'll take it, because it gets me past the half marathon finish line in under 3 hours.

But - it's the longest distance I've ever run in one fell swoop, and my body is saying stuff to me like "WTF?? You trying to kill me heah? I ain't no superman!" and "if you make me run, I'm going to make you crawl the next day". Surprisingly, there's been NO back pain in all this running. It probably helps that I sort of shuffle-run. It's really low impact.

Things have been really busy in the past 2 weeks. The Albany Pro Musica concert went great, and my little solo came off pretty well. That's saying a lot, since I am hypercritical of my singing. But I couldn't find a whole lot to hate about it, and it was well received, so a qualified and humble yay for me.

Wanna hear the latest "I'm geriatric and my body is falling apart" drama? Last Wednesday night, the 21st, I took my lovely fat dog out for a walk. She's 9 years old, a Husky/shepherd mix, and weighs close to 90 lbs. She's a biggun. She's very placid and sweet, but when she sees chipmunks, she bolts like a firecracker shoved up Speedy Gonzalez' butt. I'm usually pretty good about bracing myself and getting her back under control, but she caught me by surprise that night. Thursday morning I woke up with my shoulder pretty sore. I shrugged (ooo bad pun) it off and went about my business. Friday morning I woke up, and I couldn't lift my arm at all. That's not so good. I had a hard time styling my hair in the morning, what with the blowdryer and flat iron requiring 2 hands for operation and whatnot. So, in the interests of vanity, I booked an appointment to see a doc in my practice later that afternoon. She took a look, and said that I was presenting with the classic symptoms of a torn rotator cuff. But she wanted another opinion, so she pulled in the attending, who took a look at my sloping shoulder and said, "you need to go to the ER for x-rays. I think you have a dislocated shoulder".

Oh joy.

So I went. Great. Fat ladies screaming and people sneezing Ebola all over me for 2 hours in the waiting room while I waited to be seen. Once I got past triage, they examined me and gave me a percoset because "we're gonna twist your arm around in ways that will make you scream to take your xrays".

People. I should not have percoset. In fact, there should be a sign around my neck at all times saying, "This is Deirdre. 1) don't play Yanni around her, and 2) don't give her percoset".

When it first started to kick in, I sat there on the gurney, next to my lovely and charming fiance, giggling at *air*. Air, people. The way the bed sheet was wrinkled on the gurney was endlessly hilarious to me. The radiology tech asked me to put my things on a chair and I doubled over laughing. DO NOT GIVE ME PERCOSET.

I posted this observation to my facebook wall whilst under the influence:
"I think my fiance just told me this is all of my fault because I got the zombie feeling for eating my own hand. Or maybe the Percoset told me that. I get cindried"

DO NOT GIVE ME PERCOSET.

I also posted this little gem:
"I love Emily. I got through the ER in about 4 hours. 2 hours waiting, 2 for treatmet. My fiance came just as they brought me in. He said kits of funny things about zombies. They gave me percoset because they had to twist my arm around to take xrays. I giggled so much when it first started working that the fat lady with the giant sore on her face told me to shut up. I'm waitnf for the percoset to wear off so I can kick Mark's snarky ass."

DO NOT GIVE ME PERCOSET.

So. There you go. You all know what not to give me, right? It turned out that nothing was broken or dislocated. We're back to the torn rotator cuff theory. I feel ten thousand times better - and pretty much have full use of the arm back.

Best thing of all? It didn't impact my running at all. I did seven miles the following Sunday, 3 miles Monday, and 4 miles yesterday. Tonight is cross training - no rowing for me! The eight mile run is Saturday - I'm dreading it a little.

Here's your daily fun link. Stephen Hawking says "don't talk to aliens"
As my friend Jack says, "The average person who's been watching "V" or has seen "Independence Day" would probably give you the same advice. Seriously, this guy's supposed to be brilliant?"