Oops, I Ran Through Shower Time

 It seems Texas weather pulled a fast one on us Texans again.  While I was running in 70* weather a few days ago, this greeted us today.  It isn't really all that cold, but the wind has a way of cutting to the bone and making it feel so much colder than even the wind chill claims.

I actually briefly thought about doing a run outside, heading due north into the wind, and then turning around and letting the wind blow me home.  Ultimately, heading to the gym and the treadmill won out.  It was time to mix things up with the hill function anyway.

I didn't get much sleep last night, an occurrence that's becoming all too frequent lately.  I really wasn't feeling all that inspired today, but I forced myself to go.  Lately my days at work have been so incredibly busy that running after a 12 hour shift of chaos hasn't really been an option.  Since I work 3 days a week, every day off has to have a run or I just don't get enough runs in.

When I started my workout, I started at a walking pace.  It's something I rarely do, but my legs were so cold that I was worried I'd hurt myself.  And since I was running for time rather than distance it felt amenable.

What I didn't expect was how utterly fantastic I felt.  I had planned on a 3-3.5 mile run using the hill program on the treadmill.  When 3 miles passed, and 3.5 miles approached I didn't want to stop.  I felt so, so good.  So I extended the workout to an hour, and let things roll.

As you can see, I went just a bit further than intended.  This is either the farthest I've ever run, or nearly so.  The crazy thing is that I felt like I could keep going indefinitely.  The stupid treadmills at my gym will only allow 1 hour workouts, after which you have to reprogram the thing all over to get started again.

It's probably a good thing though, because what I hadn't thought about was the fact that I had calculated out enough time to get my run in, return home, shower, and have time to go pick my son up from pre-K.  Except I ran straight through shower time.  So I ended up going directly from the gym to get my son.

You should have seen all the wrinkled noses and sideways glances I got from the Mommy Mafia.  Like I didn't already know that I was on the damp and smelly side of things.

I know that today's run was a reward for all the runs that I've struggled through, and bad days where I felt like I was dragging around a boat anchor.  We all get these amazing runs from time to time.  But I sincerely hope that maybe this is a sign of things to come as a result in my new direction in diet and attitude.  I mean I've had really great runs in the past, but I haven't ever run an extra 2.5 miles...

When was the last time you had a inexplicably fantastic run?

Debut: Garmin

As you can see, considering the temperature today here in Texas, (need I remind you it's January!) I couldn't find any excuse not to finally get out and run with the Garmin Forerunner 220 my wife got me for Christmas.  After dropping a few subtle hints (a text message with a link may or may not have been sent) she managed to find me one.  And even though these were apparently hot items and hard to find, she managed to find me a red and black one, (for which I'm thankful since the other choice was white and purple).

Anyway, today was the day, and I happily planned out my route.  I got dressed in running clothes, and laced up.  I grabbed my Garmin and when I started to strap it on, it wouldn't turn on.

Aaaahhh!

I traced to cord back to the computer, and of course it was unplugged.

Now I'm not blaming anyone in particular, but there are two little monsters under 5' tall, that have in the past week hidden my glasses, my everyday watch (under the bed of course, because it glows in the dark!), and the remote shutter release for my dSLR.  But I'm not one to point fingers.

So I did what any self-respecting runner would do.  I started cussing.

Loudly.

A lot.

Then grabbed my phone, and went for a run anyway using my trusty iPhone and RunKeeper app.

It was a good run, and I enjoyed it.  The temperature was balmy, the breeze was perfect.  And a 5k slipped past under my feet.

And now here I sit blogging about it, and the Garmin lies next to me.  Mocking me with its 100% charge plastered boldly across its face.  I've seen less smirk on my 14 year old daughter's face.

Mr. Garmin, we are not off on the best foot here.

Interval Boost

I decided to just head home after work last night.  It had been a rough day, I was tired, and I was hoping to get to bed early.  I had planned an interval workout yesterday, then take today as a rest day, an easy run tomorrow, and then the Rahr Oktoberfest 5K on Saturday.  Instead, I counted yesterday as a rest day, then got up and ran my interval workout before work this morning.

Last week when I ran my interval workout I found myself feeling so strong by the end of the 5th fast interval, I just pushed straight through to the end of the workout without taking a rest interval. That kind of clued me in that maybe I better step up my paces.

So this morning I did just that.  I ran 1/4 mile intervals for 3 miles.  I increased my slow interval pace from 10:43 to 10:21, then I ran my first two fast intervals at a 9:05 pace, then the 3rd at 8:57, 4th at 8:49, 5th at 8:42, and last at 8:34.  Overall average pace for the 3 miles was 9:37.

I didn't have the issue of feeling too strong at the end of my 5th interval this time.  In fact I had push to make it through the 6th.  Which is exactly what I was looking for. 

Here's to getting stronger and faster.

What's your favorite interval workout?

Hour to Hour

It's funny the ups and downs we experience just within a few hours.

Yesterday I ran a 5K in under 30 minutes for the first time.  3.13 miles in 30:00, a 9:35 pace.  It was a great feeling.

And hour and a half later I was reading a rejection letter from TCU's Nurse Anesthesia program. 

It's only been the focus of my life since August 2008.  So no, not really a big deal.

I don't know what else to say about that right now.

Back at work today feeling extremely trapped and demoralized.  This job is now a stepping stone to...well I don't know anymore.

Hope you're having a better day than me.

Peaceful

If only every day, every run could be so magnificently refreshing. 

Here in Texas, the summer heat finally broke with a day of rainstorms that beat back the dogs of summer on Friday.  This morning the temperature is 64* at 0440 when I roll out of bed and tug on my running shoes.

When I step out the front door, the cool northern breeze nearly takes my breath away as it tickles its cool tendrils against my skin.  An unexpected prickle of goosebumps flickers across my body.  I greedily suck in a deep breath of the marvelously cool air and set off down the street.

The morning is quiet save for the occasional breeze creaking the summer-dried cedar fences.  I pass and startle a possum who in turn gives me a baleful glare as it scurries away from the edge of the road.  As I turn onto the sidewalk of the more major cross street, a car approaches and has the courtesy to move to the inside lane as it passes.  And then I am alone with my run again.

Glancing back over my shoulder I spy Orion in the southwestern morning sky, and I'm sure he gives me a curt nod of approval.  As my patron constellation of unending endurance and perseverance as he chases his quarry relentlessly across the sky, I often look to the heavens for him.  During the winter months, he flashes by in the late evenings.  But during the summer months I only greet him when I rise before the sun itself to run.

Knee-high heads of grass gone to seed line the sidewalk on both sides, neglected and uncut, as I stride my way up the gradual hill that rises before me.  I skim the edges of the grass tunnel that opens in front of me, letting the tips brush lightly against my outside leg as I slip by, granted safe passage within the path the sentinel grass heads stand watch over.  I smile to myself because I know that I will be passing this way again soon and then it will be a gradual downhill and I'll be pushing the pace through to the end. 

A stray dog pants his hello as he marks time with me for a few strides before he jovially returns to his resting spot beneath a gnarled cedar tree, his pale blue eyes luminescent against his brown fur.  I'll see him again soon too.

Even the two sets of high voltage transmission lines I travel under are eerily silent this morning.  Normally in the heat they buzz and arc, chattering amongst themselves and making the hair on my legs and arms stand on end with their disapproving comments.

As I pass from the residential areas and approach a major city intersection with gas stations and strip malls, the first hints of the impending morning become apparent.  Delivery trucks idle roughly outside the convenience stores, laden with their bottled diabetes, waiting to refuel the mother-ship.  In & Out, Kwik Stop, Run In--they all have such purposeful names.

RunKeeper whispers in my ear, and I abruptly turn heel and head back towards home at the 2 mile mark.  I'm 100 feet short of the intersection, and I wonder why I didn't just travel to the junction before turning back.

I invite Mr. Blue-eyed-Brown Dog to breakfast as I pass by again.  And he smiles his toothy smile agreeably, but returns to wait patiently under his tree to witness what else will pass by his particular part of the universe.  Maybe he's waiting for a better offer.

I concentrate on keeping my cadence up on the downhills instead of falling into ragged lope.  I'm sure my pace is greatly increased with this strategy, but my perceived effort isn't any more than running uphill the other direction.  The downhills cease to be a chance to recover, and instead present as opportunities to bank pace.  Indeed looking at my splits, this is my fastest split by over :40 secs/mile.  I'm slowly learning to use my body to attack the run, rather than merely holding on for dear life, hoping to survive.  More than banking seconds toward my pace, I'm banking experience for my runs and races I've yet to attempt.

As I turn up the steeper hill towards my home, I glance at RunKeeper, and try to determine if I'll have to skirt the cul-de-sac halfway up the street to make sure I'll make 4 miles by my driveway.  The remaining distance before me seems much shorter than the distance left according to RunKeeper. I'm surprised to see that I turn over 4.01 miles as I coast into my driveway.  This disparity only highlights the fear and trepidation that--even now--holds me hostage.  The corner to my driveway is not far by sight.  0.15 miles remaining feels much farther.  But they are the same.  The difference is merely gazing at the goal rather than the work left to get there.

Inside again, I sit on the ottoman at the end of our bed, the fan blowing cool air over me.  I listen to the rhythmic breathing of my 7 year old daughter who came in last night in the fog of a nightmare.  Her insouciant breathing speaks to the safety she feels in our bed.  And I'm glad for that.

In fact, in this moment I'm...grateful.

It's hard for me to be content, sometimes, when I let the world dictate my demeanor.  But for now--this fleeting instant--I am peaceful.

And it all started with a run on a cool Autumn morning.

Here's the song that Pandora chose for me to contemplate to at the end of my run.  One of my (if not my absolute) favorite artists--Gregory Alan Isakov.  Hope you enjoy.

Positive and Negative

I've been avoiding writing for the last few days because I didn't really have much to say that didn't have a negative cast to it.  Maybe a short post with both positive and negative will help push me past.

Negative:

(Skip down to positive if you'd like to avoid my negativity.)

It's been hard for me to read some running blogs and see how cavalier some people are about their running.  They laugh off missed workouts, mention just in passing their runs like they're no big deal, and describe their spur-of-the-moment runs with whoever happens to come calling that day.  All at paces that I can merely dream of at this point.  I know runners aren't supposed to compare themselves with other runners--that the only person we're in competition with is ourselves. I'm pretty sure I'm not upset about their distances or pace--those will come with time, effort, and patience. I'm not scared of the hard work. I guess what needles me is their attitude.

But I just work so hard.

I push, and push to the very edge of what I can do right now, to the brink of injury.  I plan my workouts out, put them into our combined calendar weeks in advance.  I run at 5 am to beat the heat.  I run at 8:30 at night after the kids are in bed instead of spending time with my wife.  I run after 12 hour shifts at work--I run on my days off.  I run instead of taking naps. I know there are many of you out there who do the same and I love and respect your efforts.

In reward for my hard work, I improve every time I run.

Something that I am tremendously grateful for.

But it's like they're laughing in the face of my hard work and dedication when I read about some runners doubling, even tripling my runs at paces 4, or even 5 minutes per mile faster, and giggling about it just being an easy/recovery run or saying, "I ran this so much faster than I meant to."

Oops.

I just wish people were more respectful(?), appreciative(?), reverent(?) of their ability...

I don't even really know what I wish people were like.

I just know it's frustrating me lately.

Positive:

So today I picked up my race packet for my 5k on Saturday.  The packet pickup happened to be at my gym.  As I passed by the table on my way to the treadmills, the girl manning the packet table asked me if I was there to pick up.  Maybe, just maybe, I resemble a runner?  It was fun to grab my stuff, and to hear her tell me to have a good workout.  Maybe, just maybe, I resemble someone who works out?

Anyway, I'm getting excited.  I'm worrying a bit about getting there on time as my wife works the night before (we're both nurses, but she works nights).  Although she's leaving work early for me just to get home to stay with the kids while I go run my race, I'm worried it won't be early enough.  I will likely get to the race site about 20-25 minutes before the 5k start time.  Maybe it will be better that way since I'll have that much less time to be overwhelmed and nervous like I usually am in new situations with lots of people and apparent disorganization and chaos.  I plan to be dressed, pottied, stretched, fed, hydrated, freaked out, by the time my wife gets home so that I can bolt out the door.

Am I maybe obsessing
if I've checked the forecast for Saturday morning every morning and night for the last week?

Today I ran an interval workout that I've been successful with previously (1/4 mile intervals at 11:20 pace and 9:40 pace for 3 miles) to end on a high note for my last workout before the race.  It was a good workout.  I felt like I was attacking the faster intervals and the last couple I started early, ended late, and pushed the pace.  (See, even now I keep thinking about my successful workout and realizing it's somebody else's warm up or cool down. Bad negative thoughts!  Bad!  Sit!  Stay!)

I'll take the day off tomorrow and hydrate.  I hope that leads to a successful race.  Kind of just trying to feel my way through prepping for for race day--I'm bound to make a mistake, but I guess I'll just chalk it up to a learning experience.

Oh, and I'm down 35 lbs now (well, 34.8) in almost exactly 2 months.  Hoping to hit 240 lbs on the nose by next Thursday in time for my CRNA school interview.  Going to require no hiccups in my diet for the next 7 days, and consistent workouts, but I think I'll nail it.

Today was a good day to run...

Turns out today was a good day to run.

I was worried.

Last night I went to bed with a tweaked knee.

That's what will happen when you have to move a 396.7 lb patient that refuses to even attempt to assist, all by your lonesome.  How does something like that happen?  Well, aside from the lack of impulse control and personal responsibility that allows somebody to become 400 lbs in the first place (and subsequently experience all the health conditions that come along with being morbidly obese), when your unit is 2 complete nurses below proper staffing levels, there just isn't anyone to help.  Add one part unfair impatience and over demanding ignorance on the part of the patient and family, and yours truly is set up for an injury.

So yes, I did single handedly move 400 lbs of dead weight.  (I don't have superhero strength, I'm just a nurse.)  And I sure did limp out of the room with a tweaked knee.

Two months ago I would have chalked it up to a normal day at work and gone on without complaint.  But yesterday, I ended up limping directly to the break room to compose myself.

You see, there was this despair that welled up inside me.  What if it was a permanent injury?  What would happen to all the progress that I've made?  Would my new found love for running simply go to the wayside? 

And then came the anger.  Anger at administration that continually puts patient safety, my safety, my license and livelihood on the line, day after day.  I mean, if something untoward happened, I'd be hung out dry; left holding the bag while the hospital churned on, business as usual.  How unfair.

Then, most concerning, came the contempt.  Contempt for the patient in the bed that allowed himself to get in that condition.  For demanding so much of others when he's obviously unwilling to hold himself to the same standard.

But as a nurse, I am not afforded the luxury of being judgmental.  I am good at what I do because I remain impartial--a champion for the needs of the patient.  I am to be the patient's biggest (and often only) advocate in navigating the frightful healthcare system we have in this country.

So yeah.  Not a red letter day for me.

(Wow, sorry.  Didn't expect for all that to come boiling over.)

This morning I woke up gratefully and thankfully pain and tweak free.

I had planned an interval workout for today, and since by 9 am it was already 90* out, I opted for the treadmill.  Actually intervals on the treadmill make a lot of sense for me since it offers complete control over pace, distance, and time.

I ended up running 1/4 mile @11:30 pace, then 1/4 mile @9:40 pace, alternating back and forth (as intervals are apt to do) for 3 miles.  Then, as I was ending on a fast interval, I just continued on to complete the 5k since that's the distance on my mind these days.  So I ended up 3.11 miles in 32:41--a perfectly snappy time for me.

At the end I felt spent, but not obliterated.  And, of course, basking in that immediate post-run glow.  All the despair, anger, and contempt from yesterday was left splattered in sweaty drops on the treadmill, and wiped away with a handi-wipe.

Today was a good day to run.

Mama said there'd be days like this.

I set my alarm for 5 am this morning to run. It went off to the tune of thunder and flashes of lightning, so I reset it for 6. When it went off again I just turned it off. At 8:30 I finally dragged myself out of bed, but it was time to head out to grandma's house to retrieve our children. On a whim I stuck my shoes and a pair of shorts in the car, just in case.

By the time we arrived at grandma's house, the sun still hadn't come out from behind the morning rain clouds, so I laced up and headed out.

I was running along a Farm to Market road out in the country.  While there was relatively little traffic, what traffic there was was barreling along at 60 mph on a narrow road with no shoulders.

I was a tad anxious I'd soon become a Texas hood ornament.

I couldn't get settled into a pace, and every time I looked down I was running 9 minute miles--way faster than I could sustain for very long.

The morning rains had served to create stifling humidity, and the temp had risen into the 80s.

My trip outbound went fairly well, although it had a few more hills than I was used to. When I turned around and started back though, I realized the breath of a breeze I'd been enjoying would now be at my back, and no longer discernable.

At about 2 miles, I ended up walking for a bit, and tried a few times to restart before it finally stuck.

I managed to finish 5k, and stay under a 12 min pace, barely...

I know not every workout can be amazing, so I'm hoping today was the day for a bad workout for me.

Neon Peacocks

Friday night wasn't a good night sleepwise. For some inexplicable reason my diaphragm decided it had been far too long since my last bout with hiccups.

Clearly the best time for a fit of hiccups is at 0230 am...for the next 3 hours.

My neck and stomach muscles are still sore. Hiccups are a heck of a core workout in case you were wondering. One set of 3 hours of hiccups is plenty.

Needless to say, my planned long run for Saturday morning was questionable at best based on the perceived effort of just assembling breakfast for the kids and myself. (In fact I forgot about my oatmeal until I went to make lunch!)

I decided that Saturday was a perfect rest day. And I was perfectly content to go runless.

I even valiantly resisted testing my new shoes.

Until 2000 or so (8pm for you non hospital/military folks).

Everyone knows the best time for a shakedown run in new shoes requires completely upsetting bedtime routines. And laundry.

Armed with pure inconvenience, I ran 2.25 miles of one minute intervals alternating 12:00 pace with 9:50 min pace. My idea was to teach my body to regroup while continuing on running. No walking allowed.

At least that was the idea.

Either way, my new shoes were light and comfy, and as an added bonus they caused me to run like I was drunk on the treadmill.

Plus they are a super bright shade of red/pink that I catch out of the corner of my eye causing me to think I'm being chased by a neon peacock.

My feet/ankles/knees are a little tired as a result of transitioning to minimalist shoes, but no pain. Tomorrow morning I'm running the 5k course again

In my very jealous older shoes.

It Was a Dark & Stormy Night...

The blizzard winds kicked up the 3-4 feet of snow when I set out on the course that was uphill both ways.  Did I mention I was barefoot?

Ok, ok.  Maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration.

Regardless of the hyperbole, today was my first run outside in nearly 3 years.  The last time I ran outside (Turkey Trot 2010)  I don't really recall it being a particularly pleasant experience.

I got up at 5am to make sure I had plenty of time to run and make it back home in time for 1st day of school festivities.  I went to try out the certified 5k course that the hospital put together for the upcoming race.

Initially when I started running, I had a bad feeling about how things were going to go.  I felt all gangly and out of sync, and the ground felt really hard.  I was having to keep an eagle eye on Runkeeper because I kept surging up to a pace that there's no way I was going to be able to sustain.  About 5 minutes in though, I settled in--I started feeling relaxed and no longer had to constantly check my phone for pace info.

I'll admit that a 12 min pace feels a lot slower in person than it does on the treadmill.  I foresee running outside seriously propelling me forward in pace and distance.

Well, somehow I managed to make a wrong turn on a closed loop course and only ended up running 2.77 miles(??) at an 11:38 pace (with each mile split getting faster), but no matter.  I felt really good.  And next week, or maybe even later this week I'll head back out there and run the full course.

I was surprised how quickly my run went.  Compared to the treadmill this run seemed to fly by.  And it was nice being able to see landmarks, and my progress towards them.

I'm going to refrain from running outside for the next couple of days to make sure that my feet and legs are going to transition without pain.  And I may hit the treadmill this afternoon to finish off a few treadmill miles.

Overall it was very nice experience.

Even if the blowing snow made it hard to see my bare feet as I ran uphill both ways...

Each in front of the other...

Today when I started my workout, I felt terrible.  My knees hurt, I couldn't get into a smooth rhythm, even my belly bouncing hurt--something that I haven't even noticed before (yes I still have a belly, unfortunately, even after 28 lbs gone).  I thought back to my moment of clarity a few weeks ago, and forced myself onward with the promise to myself that if I truly didn't feel good, I would stop before I hurt myself.  About 5 minutes in, I felt right as rain.

So I kept going.

As each mile ticked by I picked up the pace.  The loose workout I had in mind was a moderately paced 5k, but as I planned each increase in speed, I wondered if I might just push past that goal.  It was an effective strategy, because I ran 4 miles today.  Yet another half mile past my previous best last week.  The workout broke down like this:

Mile 1:  12:00 pace (5.0 mph)
Mile 2:  11:06 pace (5.4 mph)
Mile 3:  10:43 pace (5.6 mph)
Mile 4:  10:00 pace (6.0 mph)

Total time:  43:43
Avg pace:  10:56 pace

I think.

I figured that out based on what speeds I set the treadmill for...and then did the math.  Let me know if it looks wrong.

It was tough.  Not going to lie, especially pushing myself at 10 min pace for the last mile.  But my wife finished up her workout and came to check on me at just the right time, about 4 minutes left, so that was a boost for me at just the right time.

Anyway, forced day off tomorrow because of work.  Then a late evening run on Sunday after work.  Tough work schedule this week getting in the way of my workouts.  Work 2, off 1, work 2, off 1, work 2.  But then a few days off.

My work is putting on a 5k and a half marathon on Saturday, September 14th.  I'm contemplating running the 5k...

Without Fear, right?

Forward

“Go back?" he thought. "No good at all! Go sideways? Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!" So up he got, and trotted along with his little sword held in front of him and one hand feeling the wall, and his heart all of a patter and a pitter.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

Yesterday was supposed to be a rest day, but I ended up going to the gym and spending some time on the elliptical machine next to my wife to give her some moral support.  (Her lower back has been making it difficult for her to exercise the way she wants.  I ended up spending about 30 minutes there, and at a higher pace than I intended, so much for recovery.

Today I scheduled myself for a long(er) run, and I was feeling ambitious.  I set the treadmill for 3.5 miles, but I was feeling so good that about 20 minutes in I changed the time to an hour, for 5 miles.  I firmly believed that I'd finish all 5 miles--right up to the 3 mile mark.  For the first time I think I kind of hit a wall.  I was feeling good, and then, I wasn't.  Sheepishly I turned the time back to the 3.5 mile mark and held on to the end.

Usually post run, I'm able to recover fairly quickly.  By the time I get my treadmill wiped clean I'm back to normal breathing (although still sweating like crazy!) and my heart rate has dropped into the low 100s.  This time though, I had to be careful walking down the stairs to the main floor of the gym--legs were just a tad bit rubbery still. And I was just wiped out, sitting down in a chair in a daze.

At first I was disappointed in myself, but then I realized that a) a month ago I was running a mere 15 minutes at a time, b) a week ago my long run was 2.5 miles.

I just want so much more, and I want it now!

But I need to just pick up my little sword and let my heart pitter patter a bit.  And maybe, just maybe, enjoy the ride run.

“It was being a runner that mattered, not how fast or how far I could run. The joy was in the act of running and in the journey, not in the destination. We have a better chance of seeing where we are when we stop trying to get somewhere else. We can enjoy every moment of movement, as long as where we are is as good as where we'd like to be. That's not to say that you need to be satisfied forever with where you are today. But you need to honor what you've accomplished, rather than thinking of what's left to be done.” ― John Bingham, No Need for Speed:  A Beginner's Guide to the Joy of Running.

Another "mile"stone.

I had to work the last three days, so I've been away from the gym.

I'm an ICU nurse, and that means working 12 hour shifts.  I know that everyone struggles with the same issue of trying to fit their runs into their busy lives; it's probably one the top "excuses" out there.  But for me, running after work means making a conscious choice to not see my children that day.  I leave before they get up, and if I run, they are in bed by the time I get home--especially as we taper summer bedtimes down in preparation for school coming up.

For my first 2 work days this week, I chose to come home.  On my 3rd day though, I chose the gym since I'll be spending the rest of the week with the kids.

But I will tell you, throughout all three days I found myself looking forward to my run.  In fact, I lusted after it.  I noticed I was crabby on the first two days of work, and looking back I wonder if it was because I wasn't going to the gym?  Could 5 weeks of running leave me that addicted?

Either way, by the end of my (very busy) shift yesterday, I was fit to be tied to get off the unit, and to the gym.  I was a little worried that I might have built things up too much, and sent my wife a text:  "I sure hope this run goes well since I've been looking forward to it for 3 days!"

Once I got on the treadmill (towel safely tucked into the cup-holder this time) and started running, I felt the tiredness in my legs and feet melting away into warm fuzziness.

It felt so good.

And I couldn't help but smile.

I was only jogging along at my base 5 mph, and I could tell--I kept bumping against the treadmill rail.  I made the decision to stay at that pace because I wanted this to be a longer run, and I didn't want to burn myself out too quickly.

Anyway, I ended up running a full 5K, which is a good half mile further than I've run continuously to date.

I know that on the spectrum of runners and runs floating out here on the blogosphere, it's an insignificant distance and pace.  And I feel a little silly trumpeting it as an accomplishment here on my blog.  But it was another small victory for me, and I plan to use this "mile"stone as a "stepping" stone to greater times and distances.

Do you remember your first 5K experience?

Mental Toughness

As in, I don't have any.

I was just settling into my run today, 10 minutes in and contemplating turning up the pace.

Then, disaster.

My towel fell off the treadmill and got sucked up into the belt, wedging itself against the frame.

That shrieking, tortured howling sound you heard at the gym today?

That was me, riding a quickly dying treadmill.

I hopped off and tried to see if it would just tug free, but alas the towel had declared its unending love for the treadmill and refused to be coaxed out.

I went and notified the front desk, and then showed the employee of the year which treadmill.

"Welp, there's your problem...there's a towel stuck in the belt."

Uhh....yep.

By this time I selected another treadmill and tried to resurrect my workout. But when I restarted, I felt awful. I made it another 10 minutes and then bailed.

Maybe it's a step forward--in the past I wouldn't have even gotten back on.

Still, I don't feel good about it.

I'm pretty sure it was all in my mind, something I need to get a handle on if ever I'm to become a true runner.

In Failure...Victory

Yeesh, if that doesn't sound counter-intuitive, then I don't know what does.

All I know is that I have two small victories to celebrate and claim for my own today.

Failure/Victory #1:  A couple of days ago I sent Dorothy Beal over at Mile Posts an email after reading her Meet Mile Posts page and seeing the massive, massive growth she's experienced as a runner in both pace and distance.  I was curious to understand (she's a running coach too) if anybody can experience growth like that, or if it's a matter of being genetically blessed.

A day or two later she sent me an email letting me know that she'd actually turned my question into a full on blog post.  I was at first surprised, and then very grateful that someone so rooted into the running world would still take the time for beginning runners like me.  You'll have to read her post to gather all the details, but one of the numerous big takeaways for me was the introduction of some speed work.

Well, it turns out I had unwittingly done just that very thing this past Sunday.  As I approached being able to run for 30 minutes straight at 5 mph, I thought I'd test myself at the pace I'd previously been able to sustain myself for 30 minutes--6 mph.  My plan was to run a mile at 6 mph, interspersed with walking enough to recover, and then repeat that as many times as I could.

Well, it was a miserable failure--it went horribly.

I wasn't able to run an entire mile at 6 mph.

And in fact, I was only able to run at 6 mph for 1/2 mile at a time, and then that required 4-5 minutes of walking to recover.  I was able to repeat the 1/2 mile runs only 3 times--ending my workout right about at the 30 minute mark.  So same time, less mileage because of more walking.

I had 3 days rest before I ran again because of work (I work 12 hours, and on my feet most of that) and then we entertained out of town company for a day.

Today I awoke with a food hangover after blowing my calories at a steakhouse with company last night.  It took a bit to get myself motivated to get to the gym, but after I got myself in the right frame of mind I could hardly wait to get going.

I started off at my usual 5 mph pace, and it felt...slow.  I kept bumping into the front of the treadmill.  I shrugged it off and settled in for a 30 minute plod run.  I started Pandora and blanked my mind.

The first realization I had that this might be a different kind of day was when I first looked down and half of my planned workout was already gone.  I was sweating for sure.  But I always sweat.  My breathing was well controlled, my legs felt good, and I didn't feel...tired.

I chugged on for another 5 minutes and realized it still felt too slow.  So I turned up the pace to 5.5 mph.  And 7 minutes later I was working harder, but I still felt good.  So I turned it up to 6 mph, and finished out my run, hitting my 2.5 mile planned distance a good 1 1/2 minutes early.  So I ran until time ended.  And then I walked a minute of my cool down, and then turned the treadmill back up to 4.5 mph and loped out the rest of my cool down, recovering nicely, while I ran.

Now, I don't know for sure that one session of "speed work" would make a such a huge difference.  Maybe it was 3 days rest.

All I know is something changed, and even if it was just the encouragement of a strong voice over the internet...I'll take it.

Gratefully.

Victory #2:  The needle that broke the haystack in getting me started back on the nutritional straight & narrow happened to be advice from a friend.  I have a pretty important interview coming up on Sept. 19.  The outcome could truly change my and my family's world.  In a strategy session with a friend he mentioned the only thing he would suggest for me to work on would be to drop a little weight if possible.

I totally agreed with his assessment, and had been flirting with the idea anyway.

I set a modest goal of dropping from 277.8 lbs to 260 lbs over the course of about 9 weeks.

Today, 4 weeks later, I nailed my goal.  260 lbs.  Then I had to pee and I weighed in again at 259.8.

Hellllloooo 250's!

I think I'll set my new goal at 245 lbs by Sept 19.  I don't know if I'll be able to do it, but it really doesn't matter at this point.

With the way I'm feeling now--so much better--I've already started winning.

Run Report 8/1/13

In keeping with yesterday's push, I ran 25 minutes today.

And for today, that was enough.

It was a good workout. I spent a great deal of that time with my heart rate up, and worked up a decent sweat. I felt good throughout, never out of control or in pain.

I think a corollary to yesterday's "aha" moment is the understanding that there will be days that I push myself, searching for those limits in effort to break down those barriers. And there will be days that I just need a good solid, joyful workout. The last thing I want is an injury.

Today was just a good solid, joyful workout.

I feel good.

Shift: Self

But for a stark realization, today's post would have begun, "I didn't feel very good when I started running today...".

In fact, as I climbed the last of the stairs at the gym, I found myself slipping into my old fearful mindset.  You see, today I was to increase my running time from 17 minutes to 19 minutes, and as I stepped onto the cardio floor to head to a treadmill, my mind thought about that two whole extra minutes.  And I thought about how tired I was at 17 minutes on my last run, and how grateful I was to stop.  Out of fear, I was already giving myself permission to give up when 17 minutes ticked by on the treadmill.

It was then that it truly hit me.

It really is a mindset.

And my mindset was setting me up to fail, simply by giving myself an "out" when things started to get uncomfortable.  I had already decided that I wasn't going to be able to stretch myself, or move forward.

And in that crystal moment of clarity a small seed of reckless joy germinated somewhere deep within me.

It's a tender shoot, and I'll have to guard it carefully.  Negativity, especially fueled by the force of habit, is a powerfully destructive thing.

I don't think I've uncovered the cheat code to the mystery of life here.  In truth, most of you experienced runners are likely thinking, "Well...duh?"

But for me it represents a paradigm shift in my thinking.  A whole new world awaits.

My run today?

Well, my split for today was supposed to be 19 minutes.

I ran 25.

And I could have, would have, should have kept running.

What an amazing feeling.

Run Report 7/28/13

17 minutes at 5 mph on the treadmill.  Please don't laugh at my small time and turtle pace--it's only my 2nd week back running.

I didn't feel particularly good when I started running, and I knew I was in trouble when I looked down for my first time check and realized I had only been running for 2 minutes.  I suspect that my body is beginning to understand that I'm serious about the nutrition/running thing this time around, and has decided to pitch a tantrum in its bid to remain lazily corpulent.

"But that's OK, good sir.  I will drag your screaming, whiny ass from here into next week for next week's runs.  You may try and make this difficult for me, but I will prevail.  And believe you me, as the pounds fall away, have no doubt that I will be pushing you.  So you may as well just get on board, buster."

Such was the pep talk I gave myself as I pushed through and completed my time. 

Of course I started at 15 minutes two weeks ago, and 17 minutes was my gradual increase for this past week.  This coming week I'll move to 19 minutes.  Once I reach 30 minutes straight, I will then start increasing my speed gradually, by 0.2 mph/week until I reach 6 mph.  Then begin again slowly increasing the time.  At some point I hope to be doing enough treadmill work that I can transition to running outdoors some as well.  But I don't know when that will be.

It's slower than I'd like to advance, but I am determined to make this stick this time around. 

And I am positive this early foundation will be critical to success.

At this point I deeply dislike running, but I love the feeling afterward. 

And I'm loving the results on the scale of the combination of nutrition and exercise programs.