It's only natural that a bit of a down post would follow such a cheerful one.
To be fair, I'm using a little bit of artistic license to help inspire the blogging, but it was still a pretty mediocre week in terms of workouts.
We started out with thunderstorms in the forecast for Tuesday and Wednesday, meaning I chose to drive to work rather than bike. (Safety second, not being cold and wet first.) I never stop being surprised by how guilty I feel when I drive someplace that I generally bike to.
At least on Thursday, I felt confident enough in the weather forecast/my ability to persuade some nice guy to rescue me via car, if need be, to start biking again. And holy moly did it feel great to be chilled by a damp cold wind as I flew downhill that day.
I had a similar struggle-and-redemption story in my running. Given that it was overcast, cool and wet, and that a cold virus was still lurking in my sinuses, I didn't really want to run.
Tuesday, I went on an easy three-miler without issue, but I got lazy afterwards and didn't complete my foam-roll regimen. You better believe I felt it the next day, when I mustered the ambition to get ready for a tempo run.
"Expect rain to end by 11:45 a.m.," said the forecasting website as I warmed up around noon. Liar.
A gentle rain began to fall as I ran a mile away from my apartment. It picked up when I got to where I intended to cross the street, so I could eventually head south, and I tried to wait for the light to change.
But the crosswalk light was elusive, and my patience finite, and the skies ever-gloomier. Forget it, I thought, I'll just head back to the apartment and maybe cross there.
You know what those 30 to 60 seconds resulted in? My being that much farther away from the apartment when the hail hit. Emphasis on hit. Poor arms.
By the time I got back inside, dried off and did my complete round of stretching, the rain had stopped. Go fly a kite, Mother Nature and weather.com.
To make up for the 10 minutes of tempo running I didn't do, though, I did a short hilly run on Friday, when sunshine and dry weather returned to Des Moines.
Oh, the euphoria of running in pleasant weather after you've completed what you feared would be a brutal work shift, without having a meltdown, in time to have a friend-filled Friday night!
Showing posts with label foam roller. Show all posts
Showing posts with label foam roller. Show all posts
Sunday, April 12, 2015
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Report from the sports masseuse's table
So, this post is mostly to help me remember the key points of today's sports massage and to remember the long-term value of the expense.
First: the issue. Tenderness in my right hip tends to crop up during the later part of half marathon training cycles, then fades away once I cut back on running.
It's been happening for a few half marathons now, but this time it's much earlier in the training cycle. And I've got a masseuse whose prices are totally reasonable, so I figured maybe it was time to get this issue figured out.
What Jake ended up targeting most was my TFL, which goes across the hip and hooks up to the IT band.
My understanding is, when that's tight, it makes a lot of other things tight — the IT band, the outside of the quad, parts of the glutes, the knee. Its tightness could also be coming from tightness in the lower back, all of which combines to pull the right hip up instead of keeping it level with the left.
I walked out feeing much more supple in my lower body; Jake said to wait a day or two to run, which I was planning on doing anyways based on my personal sked.
Here's what I learned and need to apply at home: Roll my hip over a lacrosse ball. Keep foam rolling the IT band and quads.
Stretch all tight muscles by flexing the opposing muscle (oh how I hope I can remember this if I get one of my every-few-years in-the-middle-of-a-sleep-cycle charley horse).
Do the series of stretches that we ended with, during which my flexibility was praised (OK, that's not helpful to anyone else reading this, but I got to work in some self-promotion, which is nice).
And so back to the comment about remembering the long-term value of the expense. I don't mean that as, I'm broke and/or massages are absurdly expensive.
What I mean is that I should think of them as preventive care rather than treats/rewards — more like the equivalent of spending more money on healthier options (compared with cheap, processed foods) than the equivalent of splurging on dinner out instead of eating at home.
First: the issue. Tenderness in my right hip tends to crop up during the later part of half marathon training cycles, then fades away once I cut back on running.
It's been happening for a few half marathons now, but this time it's much earlier in the training cycle. And I've got a masseuse whose prices are totally reasonable, so I figured maybe it was time to get this issue figured out.
What Jake ended up targeting most was my TFL, which goes across the hip and hooks up to the IT band.
My understanding is, when that's tight, it makes a lot of other things tight — the IT band, the outside of the quad, parts of the glutes, the knee. Its tightness could also be coming from tightness in the lower back, all of which combines to pull the right hip up instead of keeping it level with the left.
I walked out feeing much more supple in my lower body; Jake said to wait a day or two to run, which I was planning on doing anyways based on my personal sked.
Here's what I learned and need to apply at home: Roll my hip over a lacrosse ball. Keep foam rolling the IT band and quads.
Stretch all tight muscles by flexing the opposing muscle (oh how I hope I can remember this if I get one of my every-few-years in-the-middle-of-a-sleep-cycle charley horse).
Do the series of stretches that we ended with, during which my flexibility was praised (OK, that's not helpful to anyone else reading this, but I got to work in some self-promotion, which is nice).
And so back to the comment about remembering the long-term value of the expense. I don't mean that as, I'm broke and/or massages are absurdly expensive.
What I mean is that I should think of them as preventive care rather than treats/rewards — more like the equivalent of spending more money on healthier options (compared with cheap, processed foods) than the equivalent of splurging on dinner out instead of eating at home.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Scratch those second-quarter goals
I recently had a pretty crappy run — definitely the worst one since my 5K dud or since any possibility of spring first emerged.
Because it was such a slog, I had plenty of time to re-evaluate some life choices and arrive at a few decisions.
These weren't the kind of decisions I spontaneously, angrily make while frustrated by a tough run ("I quit running!" being the most frequent). These were the culmination of a month's worth of observations.
The first big one is, my goal-setting has been far more ambitious than my goal-attempting.
It's obvious that some second-quarter goals were just not working out for me — namely "regain mental strength" (that one required a plan, more than just saying it) and "do 10 stair repeats in 10 minutes."
That latter goal was part of another big problem. My half-marathon training plan had too many pieces beyond the necessary runs: strength yoga, mobility, core, stairs.
Each workout seemed so overwhelming, time- and energywise, when I looked at my fridge.
I'm not denying the value of strength training, but realistically, some of these were just too complicated for me to follow through consistently.
So for the rest of the month, I'm settling for consistent stretching and foam rolling, with a few planks tossed in there. It's taper time anyway; hopefully I remember to keep it simple in a few months when I next work on a training plan.
As for next month ... I might not run at all.
That sounds extreme, I know. I could also quite easily do it: The temperature and humidity are both rising, and RAGBRAI is approaching far faster than I've gotten bike miles in.
Plus, if this month is any indication, trying to run and bike will just end up with my being frustrated that both are difficult.
I may amend it to allow for short, social runs, but at the same time, my friends who run are also doing RAGBRAI. There won't be much peer pressure, if at all.
And finally, I think I've finally committed to giving up on the spring half marathon for good.
Assuming no injuries between now and Saturday, this will be the third consecutive year I've done a spring half, and each time, the weather has dealt a different sort of wild card.
The unpredictability of Midwest spring might not bother me as much if I had less riding on its whims, like training for a 10K instead of a half marathon.
Because it was such a slog, I had plenty of time to re-evaluate some life choices and arrive at a few decisions.
These weren't the kind of decisions I spontaneously, angrily make while frustrated by a tough run ("I quit running!" being the most frequent). These were the culmination of a month's worth of observations.
The first big one is, my goal-setting has been far more ambitious than my goal-attempting.
It's obvious that some second-quarter goals were just not working out for me — namely "regain mental strength" (that one required a plan, more than just saying it) and "do 10 stair repeats in 10 minutes."
That latter goal was part of another big problem. My half-marathon training plan had too many pieces beyond the necessary runs: strength yoga, mobility, core, stairs.
Each workout seemed so overwhelming, time- and energywise, when I looked at my fridge.
I'm not denying the value of strength training, but realistically, some of these were just too complicated for me to follow through consistently.
So for the rest of the month, I'm settling for consistent stretching and foam rolling, with a few planks tossed in there. It's taper time anyway; hopefully I remember to keep it simple in a few months when I next work on a training plan.
As for next month ... I might not run at all.
That sounds extreme, I know. I could also quite easily do it: The temperature and humidity are both rising, and RAGBRAI is approaching far faster than I've gotten bike miles in.
Plus, if this month is any indication, trying to run and bike will just end up with my being frustrated that both are difficult.
I may amend it to allow for short, social runs, but at the same time, my friends who run are also doing RAGBRAI. There won't be much peer pressure, if at all.
And finally, I think I've finally committed to giving up on the spring half marathon for good.
Assuming no injuries between now and Saturday, this will be the third consecutive year I've done a spring half, and each time, the weather has dealt a different sort of wild card.
The unpredictability of Midwest spring might not bother me as much if I had less riding on its whims, like training for a 10K instead of a half marathon.
Monday, February 3, 2014
5K training starts this week!
My 5K training plan starts this week, and I'm pretty excited about it because:
1. I love the discipline of a training schedule that has an external culmination (the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick 5K). I *could* train and not race, but then I'm less likely to stick to the training schedule.
2. The temperatures this week look chilly. Not dangerously cold, but lazy cold — as in, someone without a gym membership or a treadmill would be inclined to do something else.
3. This weekend, I went to Bacon Fest, then a Super Bowl party that featured an entire dessert table and a nacho bar. (I do have to say: Bacon Fest's lingering guilt and grease overdose held me back a bit at the Super Bowl buffet.)
4. Sadly, last year's Friendly Sons partner Regina will not be able to join me, but Cory and I will be having a 5K rematch. Even if I lose, I could still claim a small personal victory if I go sub-24:00, or even sub-24:09, because there are plenty of 5Ks in the fall.
5. Another friend, Annah, has expressed interest in doing a St. Patrick's 5K, and while of course bar options abound — and she should do them, if she is so inclined! — she's been building up her endurance from ground zero, so I have high hopes that I will have positively peer-pressured another person.
Truth be told, I'm also a little ambivalent about training season's start because:
1. I haven't been pushing myself, except to not walk all of every hill. That extends to my lack of strength training since fall (seriously). I've been counting a foam-rolling session as a big victory.
2. The temperatures this week look chilly. Making crafts out of race souvenirs, reading running blogs and writing my own running blog sound more appealing.
But don't worry, this isn't going to become a whiny post. I know that once I get into the swing of training, I'll get used to all the drawbacks, and that taking the first step is the toughest.
1. I love the discipline of a training schedule that has an external culmination (the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick 5K). I *could* train and not race, but then I'm less likely to stick to the training schedule.
2. The temperatures this week look chilly. Not dangerously cold, but lazy cold — as in, someone without a gym membership or a treadmill would be inclined to do something else.
3. This weekend, I went to Bacon Fest, then a Super Bowl party that featured an entire dessert table and a nacho bar. (I do have to say: Bacon Fest's lingering guilt and grease overdose held me back a bit at the Super Bowl buffet.)
4. Sadly, last year's Friendly Sons partner Regina will not be able to join me, but Cory and I will be having a 5K rematch. Even if I lose, I could still claim a small personal victory if I go sub-24:00, or even sub-24:09, because there are plenty of 5Ks in the fall.
5. Another friend, Annah, has expressed interest in doing a St. Patrick's 5K, and while of course bar options abound — and she should do them, if she is so inclined! — she's been building up her endurance from ground zero, so I have high hopes that I will have positively peer-pressured another person.
Truth be told, I'm also a little ambivalent about training season's start because:
1. I haven't been pushing myself, except to not walk all of every hill. That extends to my lack of strength training since fall (seriously). I've been counting a foam-rolling session as a big victory.
2. The temperatures this week look chilly. Making crafts out of race souvenirs, reading running blogs and writing my own running blog sound more appealing.
But don't worry, this isn't going to become a whiny post. I know that once I get into the swing of training, I'll get used to all the drawbacks, and that taking the first step is the toughest.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Recovering from hibernation and from that first run after
My brain is happy to report that hibernation ended Sunday. My muscles are now, finally, no longer annoyed to share that same news.
I lucked out majorly by picking Sunday as the day to quit plowing through holiday leftovers and move off the couch: Highs in the mid-40s called for shorts in January!
We went for an easy route, with no shame. The out-and-back from my place to Salisbury House and back was about 3.25 miles, with only short, slight hills. (We did have to leap over puddles quite a bit, though, so — sarcasm — we're not total slackers.)
Based on Cory's criticism of his own first post-hibernation run and my own experiences returning to running, I'd expected to suffer quite a bit. For me, though, the misery didn't hit until later.
I was a dutiful runner and made sure to stretch afterward, but that didn't prevent the stiffness in my upper lower body and the soreness around my shins/ankles.
However, I was lazy and didn't use the foam roller until Tuesday — um, for the first time since sometime in November — and holy moly was that a punishment. Surprisingly, it was my quads and not my IT bands that suffered the most (IT band was second-most painful).
The best part of course was re-realizing how much pleasant/chatty I feel on days that I run. Too bad that doesn't linger like the aches in unused muscles do.
I lucked out majorly by picking Sunday as the day to quit plowing through holiday leftovers and move off the couch: Highs in the mid-40s called for shorts in January!
We went for an easy route, with no shame. The out-and-back from my place to Salisbury House and back was about 3.25 miles, with only short, slight hills. (We did have to leap over puddles quite a bit, though, so — sarcasm — we're not total slackers.)
Based on Cory's criticism of his own first post-hibernation run and my own experiences returning to running, I'd expected to suffer quite a bit. For me, though, the misery didn't hit until later.
I was a dutiful runner and made sure to stretch afterward, but that didn't prevent the stiffness in my upper lower body and the soreness around my shins/ankles.
However, I was lazy and didn't use the foam roller until Tuesday — um, for the first time since sometime in November — and holy moly was that a punishment. Surprisingly, it was my quads and not my IT bands that suffered the most (IT band was second-most painful).
The best part of course was re-realizing how much pleasant/chatty I feel on days that I run. Too bad that doesn't linger like the aches in unused muscles do.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Hibernation arrived at a good time
It's tough to maintain a running blog when one is not actually running, but rather than use this platform to yammer on about my personal life, I'm going to use my personal life as a backdrop to why now is a good time for me not to run:
* The historic cold blast arrived barely a week after the Holiday Running Streak ended. The six-day difference between the 2012 and 2013 streaks saved my buns ... or my whole body ... or my streak's existence ... or whatever it would've cost to hop along to a friend's gym on a guest pass ... or the people in the skywalk from seeing a weirdo run a mile through the skywalk.
* Post-holiday parties — friends who felt bad they didn't spend enough time at my place over New Year's made a return visit.
Because I made them wait an extra 30 minutes to see me to finish off the streak on New Year's Day, I luxuriated in NOT making them accommodate a hobby they respect my interest in but would really rather never participate in.
* Our household grew! A 9-year-old tabby named Ringo has moved in, and it's taking him a few days to adjust.
* I was mentally and physically tired of running, while my muscles had just about had it with my limited stretching/nonexistent foam rolling.
Though I have to be honest and point out two reasons hibernation came at a bad time:
* The latest issue of Runner's World arrived recently, so not only do I feel guilty about not running, but I also feel guilty that I haven't used my spare time to even read about running.
* The historic cold blast arrived barely a week after the Holiday Running Streak ended. The six-day difference between the 2012 and 2013 streaks saved my buns ... or my whole body ... or my streak's existence ... or whatever it would've cost to hop along to a friend's gym on a guest pass ... or the people in the skywalk from seeing a weirdo run a mile through the skywalk.
* Post-holiday parties — friends who felt bad they didn't spend enough time at my place over New Year's made a return visit.
Because I made them wait an extra 30 minutes to see me to finish off the streak on New Year's Day, I luxuriated in NOT making them accommodate a hobby they respect my interest in but would really rather never participate in.
* Our household grew! A 9-year-old tabby named Ringo has moved in, and it's taking him a few days to adjust.
 |
| An excuse to post cat pictures? Guilty as charged, and unashamed. |
Though I have to be honest and point out two reasons hibernation came at a bad time:
* The latest issue of Runner's World arrived recently, so not only do I feel guilty about not running, but I also feel guilty that I haven't used my spare time to even read about running.
* Holiday leftovers.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Resolutions for the rest of the year
The post-PR buzz has officially faded into a mild case of burnout.
It's nothing serious or new to runners — it's been an ambitious, busy year, and I've completed the last of my big events for the year. Now what?
Part of me wants to just spend the rest of the year on the couch, but the rest of me thinks that's a bad idea. So we're striking a compromise.
In three weeks, I've got the Living History Farms race, so aimless, mindless, directionless running won't fly. (I'll just end up running three miles a few times a week.) But because it's an adventure more than a race, I just need to make sure I still have functional muscles.
The compromise: run three times a week at minimum, without concern for time/speed, and add one or two days of cross-training. Also, I'm inspired enough by a recent post on Competitor.com about taking care of the little things to declare I'll foam roll more often.
After Living History, it's couch time until Thanksgiving, when the Runner's World Holiday Running Streak begins.
As amazing as hibernation sounds, I'm going to delay it until 2014 because I enjoyed the challenge last year. It gave me something different to focus on/strive for, and like it was designed to do, it kept me moving during prime eating season.
Tentative plans for the run streak are to have three one-mile days, and then to set an upper limit (I'm thinking four or five) for the other days.
And on Jan. 2, I will give up running for at least a week, if not two. Last year, that was easy because I caught a nasty sinus infection; this year, it might be easy because my lease runs out Dec. 31 and I intend to move and adopt a second cat.
But who knows. If we have a beautiful nonwinter like we did in 2011-12, laziness might turn out to be tough after all.
It's nothing serious or new to runners — it's been an ambitious, busy year, and I've completed the last of my big events for the year. Now what?
Part of me wants to just spend the rest of the year on the couch, but the rest of me thinks that's a bad idea. So we're striking a compromise.
In three weeks, I've got the Living History Farms race, so aimless, mindless, directionless running won't fly. (I'll just end up running three miles a few times a week.) But because it's an adventure more than a race, I just need to make sure I still have functional muscles.
The compromise: run three times a week at minimum, without concern for time/speed, and add one or two days of cross-training. Also, I'm inspired enough by a recent post on Competitor.com about taking care of the little things to declare I'll foam roll more often.
After Living History, it's couch time until Thanksgiving, when the Runner's World Holiday Running Streak begins.
As amazing as hibernation sounds, I'm going to delay it until 2014 because I enjoyed the challenge last year. It gave me something different to focus on/strive for, and like it was designed to do, it kept me moving during prime eating season.
Tentative plans for the run streak are to have three one-mile days, and then to set an upper limit (I'm thinking four or five) for the other days.
And on Jan. 2, I will give up running for at least a week, if not two. Last year, that was easy because I caught a nasty sinus infection; this year, it might be easy because my lease runs out Dec. 31 and I intend to move and adopt a second cat.
But who knows. If we have a beautiful nonwinter like we did in 2011-12, laziness might turn out to be tough after all.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
When a runner becomes a rider
Once upon a time — 2007 and 2008 — the only exercise I got was through biking. (Before that ... well, let's not go there.)
Obviously, that changed. Here I am in May 2013, having spent basically all of my workout energy from fall 2011 through last month running — then suddenly flipping the switch to biking.
Two consecutive days of longer rides does not constitute a complete lifestyle change, but there are definitely some differences in post-ride life from post-run life.
* First of all, I'm hungry right away and not nearly as thirsty. It makes more sense intuitively, though it is less convenient — instead of happily taking time to stretch, change clothes, use the bathroom, pester the cat, etc., I just want to bury my head in the fridge.
* Much more helpful is how not sore and achy I've felt. My legs and back did complain a little bit during rides, yet when the foam roller came out, almost nothing felt knotty.
Let me repeat that: Almost nothing felt knotty. It's the only time so far I've rolled my IT band without grimacing, or wondered how to pile more weight onto the backs of my thighs to really work my quads.
OK, my glutes were still tender, and my calves did have a tight spot or two ... and the inner thigh exercise was finally worth the incredibly awkward and unnatural positioning. Otherwise, I would probably be able to put the foam roller on the high shelf of the closet and forget it was there until fall.
* Sometimes it can be hard to find a comfortable position besides reclining after a run. After a ride, everything except sitting on the bike seat seems perfectly cushy and cozy. Climbing back on the day after a 50-miler, on the other hand ...
* And finally, there are the odd sunburn spots. That's not to say I don't burn, or burn in weird places, while running — I do. (Except when real winter arrives in Iowa.) They're just different than the weird places I've already burnt myself while riding.
Before Monday, back when it was cooler and required more clothing, I'd only burned my face/neck around my helmet and sunglasses. It looked super-hip.
Far more awesome, though, is the "tramp stamp" sunburn I got from a shirt that slid up as I leaned over for, oh, two-plus hours. It goes about two-thirds of the way across my waist and is just about a centimeter high, but wow is that skin pink against the ghostly white of the rest of me.
Distant runners-up to the tramp stamp are the two splotches on the insides of my wrists, right where I rotate my arms about 45 degrees to hold on to the handlebars. Like a watch tan line, except only an inch wide.
So, if the first two real days of RAGBRAI training are any indication, I shouldn't worry about the eating/drinking while riding, or the demands it'll make on my muscles — only whether I can dip myself in a vat of sunscreen at each and every stop.
Obviously, that changed. Here I am in May 2013, having spent basically all of my workout energy from fall 2011 through last month running — then suddenly flipping the switch to biking.
Two consecutive days of longer rides does not constitute a complete lifestyle change, but there are definitely some differences in post-ride life from post-run life.
* First of all, I'm hungry right away and not nearly as thirsty. It makes more sense intuitively, though it is less convenient — instead of happily taking time to stretch, change clothes, use the bathroom, pester the cat, etc., I just want to bury my head in the fridge.
* Much more helpful is how not sore and achy I've felt. My legs and back did complain a little bit during rides, yet when the foam roller came out, almost nothing felt knotty.
Let me repeat that: Almost nothing felt knotty. It's the only time so far I've rolled my IT band without grimacing, or wondered how to pile more weight onto the backs of my thighs to really work my quads.
OK, my glutes were still tender, and my calves did have a tight spot or two ... and the inner thigh exercise was finally worth the incredibly awkward and unnatural positioning. Otherwise, I would probably be able to put the foam roller on the high shelf of the closet and forget it was there until fall.
* Sometimes it can be hard to find a comfortable position besides reclining after a run. After a ride, everything except sitting on the bike seat seems perfectly cushy and cozy. Climbing back on the day after a 50-miler, on the other hand ...
* And finally, there are the odd sunburn spots. That's not to say I don't burn, or burn in weird places, while running — I do. (Except when real winter arrives in Iowa.) They're just different than the weird places I've already burnt myself while riding.
Before Monday, back when it was cooler and required more clothing, I'd only burned my face/neck around my helmet and sunglasses. It looked super-hip.
Far more awesome, though, is the "tramp stamp" sunburn I got from a shirt that slid up as I leaned over for, oh, two-plus hours. It goes about two-thirds of the way across my waist and is just about a centimeter high, but wow is that skin pink against the ghostly white of the rest of me.
Distant runners-up to the tramp stamp are the two splotches on the insides of my wrists, right where I rotate my arms about 45 degrees to hold on to the handlebars. Like a watch tan line, except only an inch wide.
So, if the first two real days of RAGBRAI training are any indication, I shouldn't worry about the eating/drinking while riding, or the demands it'll make on my muscles — only whether I can dip myself in a vat of sunscreen at each and every stop.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
The last workout before race day
Today was my last run before Sunday's half marathon.
That meant that I put on one outfit, set aside another for race day — and dumped all the rest, including the long-sleeved shirts and tights, into the laundry basket.
(I have many reasons to look forward to the race, and one of those is washing a somewhat overdue load of workout clothes. And once those are washed, I have a strong hunch that the winter clothes will stay clean for a loooooong time.)
The good news is that because Sunday's still forecast to be sunny and pleasant, I can wear my favorite running outfit — pink T-shirt, black shorts and the newest pair of Balega socks — and also, as a co-worker pointed out, not succumb to the temptation of bundling up because of how cold waiting can get.
Judging from the easy three-miler and post-run foam rolling, my taper is doing exactly what it should do.
I didn't even really try that hard during the run — OK, on that long, steady upward slope, I did have to try — and still kept a 9:36 pace.
When I stretched, it felt nice but not massage-nice, like it does when I'm fatigued, and when I used the foam roller, only the most finicky of spots complained. Which then prompted me to realize that my muscles haven't ached in a few days.
So I'm physically ready. All that's left is to pick up my packet, find my way to the start line without parking illegally and not mentally freak out over the idea that I'm going to run 13.1 miles at a time I'm almost always still in bed, with the last mile or so being a hill.
No big deal, right?
That meant that I put on one outfit, set aside another for race day — and dumped all the rest, including the long-sleeved shirts and tights, into the laundry basket.
(I have many reasons to look forward to the race, and one of those is washing a somewhat overdue load of workout clothes. And once those are washed, I have a strong hunch that the winter clothes will stay clean for a loooooong time.)
The good news is that because Sunday's still forecast to be sunny and pleasant, I can wear my favorite running outfit — pink T-shirt, black shorts and the newest pair of Balega socks — and also, as a co-worker pointed out, not succumb to the temptation of bundling up because of how cold waiting can get.
Judging from the easy three-miler and post-run foam rolling, my taper is doing exactly what it should do.
I didn't even really try that hard during the run — OK, on that long, steady upward slope, I did have to try — and still kept a 9:36 pace.
When I stretched, it felt nice but not massage-nice, like it does when I'm fatigued, and when I used the foam roller, only the most finicky of spots complained. Which then prompted me to realize that my muscles haven't ached in a few days.
So I'm physically ready. All that's left is to pick up my packet, find my way to the start line without parking illegally and not mentally freak out over the idea that I'm going to run 13.1 miles at a time I'm almost always still in bed, with the last mile or so being a hill.
No big deal, right?
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Cleaning is more dangerous than running
When this winter first started — seems so long ago — I had a co-worker look at me in disbelief when I mentioned having run despite the recent snow.
"You ran in the snow? I would be terrified to. I'd be waiting to wipe out."
In his defense, he dislikes running no matter what conditions, and he also works closely with a Texas transplant who's experiencing his very first Midwest winter ... and has several bruises to remember it by.
At the time, I admitted to a scary slip, during which my flailing arms made contact with the side of a garage, but insisted that my worst running spills had taken place in perfectly mild weather conditions.
I maintain that stance, after cleaning my apartment Sunday night and going on a run Monday morning before the rec paths were completely cleared of snow.
The minor injuries I sustained during the cleaning frenzy:
* A bruised instep on my left foot. This came from stepping on the vacuum cleaner's plug in bare feet, and resulted in the most pain I've experienced since introducing my IT band to the foam roller.
Wait, that's not totally true; the IT band stops feeling tender once I'm done rolling, while the instep was tender to the point of not putting all my weight on it for several hours after that.
* A stiff lower back. I'd thought that the cat's litterbox was growing empty enough where it would be easy to just toss all the old stuff and replace it with fresh, clean sand. And maybe I would've been right, if I hadn't poured the entire contents into a half-full garbage bag.
I could barely lift the whole thing out of the garbage can, and I'm not sure what miracle allowed me to raise it high enough to put into the Dumpster. (Yes, I know, "lift with your legs, not your back.") Fortunately, the bag didn't tear at any point, and I woke up with more foot tenderness than back soreness.
In contrast, during the 10 miles I ran, mostly on snowy paved surfaces, I only suffered a few startled lurches when one foot landed off the path and one foot remained on it. (The snow helped the path blend into the grass.)
Maybe once or twice my shoes didn't quite get traction on an icy uphill slog, and I definitely splashed through a shallow puddle once — so shallow, though, that the absorbent part of my shoes were in the clear.
Still, the worst that happened the entire time? My skin is probably windburned. But I put lotion on it after my shower, which I always do, and it felt normal a few hours later.
Which leads me to the conclusion in the title of this post. I won't give up cleaning, because I'm a neat freak, but for those of you who hate vacuuming and taking out the trash, feel free to use my stories as justification for avoiding those chores.
"You ran in the snow? I would be terrified to. I'd be waiting to wipe out."
In his defense, he dislikes running no matter what conditions, and he also works closely with a Texas transplant who's experiencing his very first Midwest winter ... and has several bruises to remember it by.
At the time, I admitted to a scary slip, during which my flailing arms made contact with the side of a garage, but insisted that my worst running spills had taken place in perfectly mild weather conditions.
I maintain that stance, after cleaning my apartment Sunday night and going on a run Monday morning before the rec paths were completely cleared of snow.
The minor injuries I sustained during the cleaning frenzy:
* A bruised instep on my left foot. This came from stepping on the vacuum cleaner's plug in bare feet, and resulted in the most pain I've experienced since introducing my IT band to the foam roller.
Wait, that's not totally true; the IT band stops feeling tender once I'm done rolling, while the instep was tender to the point of not putting all my weight on it for several hours after that.
* A stiff lower back. I'd thought that the cat's litterbox was growing empty enough where it would be easy to just toss all the old stuff and replace it with fresh, clean sand. And maybe I would've been right, if I hadn't poured the entire contents into a half-full garbage bag.
I could barely lift the whole thing out of the garbage can, and I'm not sure what miracle allowed me to raise it high enough to put into the Dumpster. (Yes, I know, "lift with your legs, not your back.") Fortunately, the bag didn't tear at any point, and I woke up with more foot tenderness than back soreness.
In contrast, during the 10 miles I ran, mostly on snowy paved surfaces, I only suffered a few startled lurches when one foot landed off the path and one foot remained on it. (The snow helped the path blend into the grass.)
Maybe once or twice my shoes didn't quite get traction on an icy uphill slog, and I definitely splashed through a shallow puddle once — so shallow, though, that the absorbent part of my shoes were in the clear.
Still, the worst that happened the entire time? My skin is probably windburned. But I put lotion on it after my shower, which I always do, and it felt normal a few hours later.
Which leads me to the conclusion in the title of this post. I won't give up cleaning, because I'm a neat freak, but for those of you who hate vacuuming and taking out the trash, feel free to use my stories as justification for avoiding those chores.
Monday, March 18, 2013
Three additions to my long run routine
I incorporated three suggestions from various sources into my long run effort last Friday: 9 miles in 1:25:37, for a 9:30 pace. What they were, and how they went:
1. A new breathing method. I'd just read an article about rhythmic breathing the day before in the latest issue of Runner's World. The idea is that if you alternate which foot you land on as you inhale, rather than having it be the same one, you'll split the total impact of landing rather than concentrating it all on one foot.
That means you have to inhale longer than you exhale, or as I internalized it, "in-two-three out-two, in-two-three out-two." Seemed complicated -- I wasn't the star student of my marching band -- and a little silly. Like when the yoga instructor would insist that you inhale during one half of the pose and exhale on the other half.
Yet just like yoga breathing, rhythmic breathing seemed to work. I don't know why I decided to try it, but for about 75 percent of the run, I made the effort, and for about 66 percent of the run, I was successful in doing it.
As the article author promised, it helped get me in my zone and, more importantly for me, it kept me from speeding up too much: Faster strides meant shorter inhalation and even shorter exhalation. And afterward, I noticed that my right bunion, which has been crabby, was much quieter than it had been.
Hmm ...
2. Energy gels. A friend/co-worker/half-Ironman was the latest to remind me that you can't just run a half marathon on water and expect to keep your energy up.
So I picked up a few energy gels at Scheels and tried out the Clif chocolate-flavored one around mile 5.5 ... after which I kept close to gas stations and fast-food restaurants, in case of emergency. (Fortunately, all I had was one isolated incident of acid reflux around the eight-mile mark.)
It's tough to truly compare my two most recent long runs -- one gel-free, one with gel -- because the terrain and weather always play heavily into how I feel. For instance, the miles leading up to the last one were much better on the eight-miler, thanks to some wind, hills and traffic stops on the nine-miler; the final mile of the niner was flat and therefore infinitely smoother than the eight-miler's last one.
But the gel didn't cause me to throw up (or do worse!), so I'll keep practicing with them. Gotta get better at tearing off the top and eating as I go.
3. Foam rollers. I passed a sales associate at Scheels carrying the roller I was about to buy, and her eyes lit up. "YOU'RE GOING TO LOVE THAT!" she exclaimed. It was weird, yet encouraging.
And accurate. I can throw out the packaging, because there's no way I'm returning it. How can something that causes pain -- like, I literally groaned a few times while using it -- also cause me such joy? Why did I repeat the movements on my glutes and IT band despite the discomfort it inflicted on me during the first time?
Because, hours of sitting later, I was hardly stiff from running nine miles, and the spots that were sore had been neglected by the foam roller.
This isn't the first running trend I've been years behind on -- as you saw in the first two chunks -- but my God, it's the one I'm angriest about missing.
1. A new breathing method. I'd just read an article about rhythmic breathing the day before in the latest issue of Runner's World. The idea is that if you alternate which foot you land on as you inhale, rather than having it be the same one, you'll split the total impact of landing rather than concentrating it all on one foot.
That means you have to inhale longer than you exhale, or as I internalized it, "in-two-three out-two, in-two-three out-two." Seemed complicated -- I wasn't the star student of my marching band -- and a little silly. Like when the yoga instructor would insist that you inhale during one half of the pose and exhale on the other half.
Yet just like yoga breathing, rhythmic breathing seemed to work. I don't know why I decided to try it, but for about 75 percent of the run, I made the effort, and for about 66 percent of the run, I was successful in doing it.
As the article author promised, it helped get me in my zone and, more importantly for me, it kept me from speeding up too much: Faster strides meant shorter inhalation and even shorter exhalation. And afterward, I noticed that my right bunion, which has been crabby, was much quieter than it had been.
Hmm ...
2. Energy gels. A friend/co-worker/half-Ironman was the latest to remind me that you can't just run a half marathon on water and expect to keep your energy up.
So I picked up a few energy gels at Scheels and tried out the Clif chocolate-flavored one around mile 5.5 ... after which I kept close to gas stations and fast-food restaurants, in case of emergency. (Fortunately, all I had was one isolated incident of acid reflux around the eight-mile mark.)
It's tough to truly compare my two most recent long runs -- one gel-free, one with gel -- because the terrain and weather always play heavily into how I feel. For instance, the miles leading up to the last one were much better on the eight-miler, thanks to some wind, hills and traffic stops on the nine-miler; the final mile of the niner was flat and therefore infinitely smoother than the eight-miler's last one.
But the gel didn't cause me to throw up (or do worse!), so I'll keep practicing with them. Gotta get better at tearing off the top and eating as I go.
3. Foam rollers. I passed a sales associate at Scheels carrying the roller I was about to buy, and her eyes lit up. "YOU'RE GOING TO LOVE THAT!" she exclaimed. It was weird, yet encouraging.
And accurate. I can throw out the packaging, because there's no way I'm returning it. How can something that causes pain -- like, I literally groaned a few times while using it -- also cause me such joy? Why did I repeat the movements on my glutes and IT band despite the discomfort it inflicted on me during the first time?
Because, hours of sitting later, I was hardly stiff from running nine miles, and the spots that were sore had been neglected by the foam roller.
This isn't the first running trend I've been years behind on -- as you saw in the first two chunks -- but my God, it's the one I'm angriest about missing.
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