Sometime last week something hit me and I decided it was time to start putting more time into running, upping the mileage again. Normally I would have done this earlier in the year, but the weather here has been so uncooperative that getting outside just wasn’t at all attractive until now. My running, though, has suffered and it’s going to take some time to rebuild. I’m thinking of just restarting at a 5K distance and going from there. My running is sort of disastrous right now, and I think the only way to get over that is just to start over at Step One.

This morning I went out for a run sort of early, and it was already 50 degrees. That’s a near-perfect running temperature, for me, and it was probably the best way to start out this Monday.  If you read my post from two days ago, then I probably don’t have to say that I’ve been stressed out and worried about work all weekend, which is really no way to spend a weekend. I’m sure you agree.

And if you’re following along, I have made the first steps in handling the situation, along with defending myself, so I’m trying to move forward. I’ve received a lot of advice and the common thread seems to be just to slow down and handle one thing at a time, so that’s what I’m trying to do. The hardest part is conveying my “slowed down” tone to others while protecting myself at the same time. Lordy, I did not miss this about larger-scale work AT ALL.

It’s really tough for me to keep myself from making sweeping generalizations at this point, but I’m trying not to do that. I’m trying to see this as just a speed bump, but WOW, it is one huge friggin’ speed bump, and I think it’s going to leave a mark. I’m trying to remove myself from the initial bad feelings enough to make decisions, but it’s really tough. I might need outside intervention to keep me from reacting the way I want to right now, which is something like “fine, if that’s how it’s going to be, goodbye.” I know that doesn’t seem very adult or professional in itself, though. It turns out I take my work incredibly personally.  Aren’t we all shocked?

So I’m going to keep thinking, and keep getting advice, and keep trying to just handle one little disaster at a time. I’m probably going to need to run every morning this week.

Yesterday, for the first time since probably the beginning of the year, I felt like running here at home. I ran once, about a whole 1.5 miles, on my trip last month and it reignited that feeling in me, that feeling of actually wanting to run just for the sake of running. And then, yesterday, I felt it again. It was kind of awesome. Now, thanks to being largely uninspired for the last several months, my endurance has suffered. So, I run a couple miles right now and it feels like enough. But some day soon, when the weather warms and I can imagine being outside for more than ten minutes, that mileage will be longer. I hope.

I know just about everything I write these days leads back to one thing, my currently unemployed life, but I cannot seem to find a normal state wherein I talk about puppies and the weather right now. Instead, it’s always an extreme of either ohh, life is good! Look at me, enjoying the moment! or OH NO, OH NO, OH NO, I’m going to be living under a bridge soon! There is rarely an in-between time when I feel like I can think about, oh, I don’t know, THE FUTURE. Instead it’s all right now, right here, survival. Okay, survival is dramatic. Maybe it’s more about just getting by.

This is a funny feeling, though. One I didn’t expect. Instead of being in a bad situation, in a place in my life and career where I couldn’t think about the future due to one set of constraints, now I’m in a good place, a more free place, and yet, I still cannot get past the next couple months. I can’t plan for the fall, because I have no idea what I’ll be doing then, where I’ll be, if I’ll be getting by.

You could argue that none of us knows the answers to things like this, and you’d be right. We don’t. But the added insecurity caused by turning your life upside down takes that one step further, and so I guess I’ve learned once again that moving on to better doesn’t necessarily guarantee any degree of certainty.

Which is why when I felt like running yesterday, and then when I ran, it felt so good. Not only did I think “yes, this is good. This is how running is supposed to feel,” but it helped me remember that in time, the bigger, more pressing things in life can feel that way, too.  One day, probably sooner than later, I’ll be able to see more than two miles into the future.

I always find that winter reminds me, more than any other season, what tough people runners really can be. With the “Arctic Blast” (man, I hate that term) that has hit most of the country over the last couple weeks, I think the line between tough and stupid is kind of blurry, so let me just say right now: don’t risk your life running in below zero temperatures. Duh. But, living in Colorado, I can certainly understand that you have to deal with the winter weather if you want to run outside. You have to.

We all have our lines, and mine is about 20 degrees (F). As I get older, that number creeps up a little, and if there’s wind, pretty much all bets are off. But regardless of where your line is, you have to dress for the weather. In light of the arctic blasts that are clearing the grocery store shelves of all bread, milk, and eggs, I think talking about winter running gear is inevitable.

(Aside: Since when did a cold spell with 2-3 inches of snow require we buy out grocery stores? Exactly how long do we think we’re going to be stuck inside without staples? “OMG, stock up on the Wonderbread, honey! We could be in this house for 48 hours!” I mean, I get if there’s a foot or two of snow expected, but a couple of inches? People, come on. That is why I hate this new fun weather term “Arctic Blast.” Hello, it is called cold. Keep your door closed. You’ll be fine.)

.

There are a couple things that I cannot live without if I decide to run outside in the winter.

The first, Smartwool socks:

It has been a long week, which I haven’t been able to say in about five weeks, because, you know, most of my days now are spent trying to figure out how my house gets to be such a mess when all I do is clean it. And, well, I am spending time now looking for work. And running, believe it or not.

First, thanks to everyone that helped me out on my runner whine. Shocking to no one, this happens to me a couple times a year, like about this same time last year. Good thing I have such an inspiring way of not living in the past, and therefore can ask the Internet over and over again to help me. So thank you, Internet. I promise to only whine about this twice a year… ish.

Of course, whining about something and getting a response is the magical cure to anything and later that evening after writing that post, I sat down and figured out a nice little winter training plan. I’m giving myself a whole year to increase my endurance, and speed (not at the same time, of course). Or my whole life. Because who really cares how fast you are or how long you can run in any certain amount of time? No one, no one but you. I know myself along with a lot of other runners could stand to remember that once in a while.

That was all the good part of the week. The part that made it long was the work part. Also no surprise to anyone. Remember that work meeting I didn’t feel right about? Well after days of thinking about it, I still didn’t feel like it was the right thing. Then, the day before the meeting, the person it was scheduled with began incessantly sending emails to reschedule and relocate the meeting due to last-minute “schedule conflicts.” After the third email I said “okay, I’m listening!” (yes, aloud in my house), stopped agreeing, picked up the phone, and canceled the meeting altogether. It was the right thing to do.

While it somewhat puts me back a bit, I am grateful for two things: I am in the position to not go from one negative situation to another, with all kinds of red flags, and I can trust my gut from here on out.  There’s a quote that says something like “trust your gut, but never believe that is enough” and I totally get that feeling today. Yes, listen to your gut, but also remember that doesn’t relieve you from effort. Working away from the negative things and toward the positive is still work. I am okay with that.

This morning I woke up with a Dwight Yoakam song in my head. Who does that? I mean, Dwight Yoakam is cool. And sparkly, but still. I am sitting here getting ready to run on the treadmill (yes, I am just to wimpy for the cold. And I have a treadmill, so I should be using it. Because it is there, and it is so much better for my butt to run on it than it is to dry clothes on it).

And that’s pretty much the extent of what I have to say about running right now. I am the least exciting runner ever. Other than running a very slow half marathon (dressed as a cowgirl, nonetheless) I don’t do many exciting things in running any more. I suppose using “any more” as reference to the last few months doesn’t really make sense, but as someone who’s spent the better part of the last 8 years waiting for that next run, it is really weird to not have anything to talk about. Could it be that it’s become that much a part of my life that it’s no longer exciting, it just is?

I mean, I ran two marathons earlier this year. It’s been a big year for me. And yet, I feel like I could take it or leave it at this point. The only thing I like it for right now is that it’s helping me to counter-balance all the cookies I’ve eaten in the last 48 hours. Which is a good thing. And maybe that’s all I need for now. Just to take it for what it’s worth and not worry about how I feel. I put in about 12 miles this weekend. I can still fit into my pants. Running FTW! Right? That’s enough, isn’t it?

Then again, if anyone has any fun ways to get excited, I’d love to hear them. Keep in mind it’s below freezing here most mornings and nights right now, and that I am a wimp. Please, and thank you.

(sorry for the tiny photos)

I was all set to write a follow-up post to my Things That Saved My Running post a few days ago, but there’s something else pressing on my mind, and I’m hoping I can get some answers.  I know this whole NaBloPoMo thing is causing a lot of people to just click through posts on their readers, which is fine, but if you are a runner or another type of athlete and you stop to read anything from me this month, hopefully this will be it.

In the last year, I have known at least forty people that have finished one marathon or more. Out of those approximate forty, about half of them have been disappointed with their race in one way or another. So far, none of this is entirely out of the ordinary. What I’ve been noticing, though, is that the importance people are putting on these races and then the subsequent guilt they’re putting themselves through when the end result isn’t ideal. I think this is insane.

There, it’s said. I think long-term guilt about a race when running is not your job is insane. In fact, guilt even when it is your job is a little ridiculous as most pros will probably tell you that if you don’t move on, you never get where you need to be. But for a recreational runner, no paychecks were lost and no one’s not able to pay their mortgage because you couldn’t run your race. It is just not that significant. That is how I see it.

Now, before we get too far, let me say that I get it. I get that races are important to us and reaching a goal is important. I get that. I understand the miles, the years, the pain, the planning, the money, the everything that goes into entering one marathon. I get it. I get that it’s physically and mentally and emotionally demanding. I get that your entire life for sixteen weeks or more is built around this one day. I have put in those miles, I have spent that money. I understand. Now, I am not as fast as some of you, as MOST of you, actually, but my miles are just as long as yours.  I. Get. It.

In the last few weeks, though, I’ve heard and read so many marathon accounts wherein you’d think the runner was running her last race. You’d think that this was her one and only shot at anything in life and it’s gone. The reality is that this runner is a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer, a driver, a splinter remover, a board room presenter, a vacuum repairer, a dog walker, a toilet cleaner, a volunteer, a motivator, a friend, a lover, and so much more. This runner is not just a runner. So why a person would consider themselves a failure and hash things over dramatically for weeks on end based on a single race is beyond me.

I get that the moments and even days after the disappointing race can be tough. But even then, if you can’t appreciate the effort you just gave, and the absolute miracle that is your body being able to do those things, I think you’re doing it wrong. Running this race is only a part of your life and if you let a bad day take over all of those other things that make you you, then you are doing it all wrong.

Put another way, if you are a recreational runner that is qualifying your worth as a runner by the clock, you are doing it all wrong.

I am not trying to offend anyone, and I’m not trying to disqualify anyone’s feelings here. I am just tired of someone letting a 4:40 when they were really shooting for a 4:15 take over their life. The only person that defines you by a number is you, and that’s not fair. Just as when you let yourself be defined by that “good” number sometimes, too. I think that is also wrong.

You are neither as good or as bad as any number that any clock might read. You are fast, you are slow. You felt like you were flying, you cramped and had to stop. You trotted along with ease in your stride, you could barely breathe.  You felt free, you felt trapped. None of that is good or bad, it only is.

The parts that do matter, that don’t change no matter what the clock reads: You took care of your body. You appreciated your health. You set a goal. You worked. You worked hard. You worked hard to run another day. You got up and out on the mornings you didn’t want to. You pushed through. You joined together with others in a remarkable community. You set an example. You kept going.  These are the things that are bigger than numbers. These are the things that will always be satisfying.

These things that carry on long after the finish line is crossed, long after that medal starts collecting dust. That attachment to that day that didn’t go well?  Let it go. You are so many other things above and beyond that number.  Besides, you have to get over it… there are toilets to clean.

I’ve been teasing this for a week or so now, not purposely, I just kept thinking of other things first. But about eight weeks ago, I started running in Vibram Five Fingers.

My apologies for the iPhone photo, and for the bathtub.This is where the Vibrams go after running in the mud.

After having seen them around only a little, I became curious. You see, I’ve tried just about every possible shoe, type of shoe, fit of shoe, brand of shoe, and on and on to make running better for me again. And friends new and old to this website have probably seen no shortage of posts from me talking about my knee pain. It has become the second author of all running-related posts on this blog, it seems. So, I’ve tried it all.

Not only that but I’ve tried every other alternative to help this knee pain, too. I’ve had physical therapy, injections, massage, foam rollers, sticks, and on and on. But this isn’t a post about what I’ve done outside of shoes, so we’ll cover that later. This is a post about what goes on my feet, and how that may have been the thing leading me astray all along.

A few weeks before I decided to buy the Vibrams my brother-in-law got a pair. My brother-in-law is the king of all things new and innovative in physical activity, so this was no surprise. One day I tried on his pair and although they were a couple sizes too big, it made me realize just how much I like being barefoot. I know this is no surprise to anyone else, so I don’t know what took me so long (um, ’cause I was wearing hiking boots on the beach? No.) but it started to make sense.

The next run I did was on the treadmill, barefoot. I wanted to get started, to try it out and see how my body cooperated. One run of about 2 miles, at some pace I deemed reasonable, and I knew I was onto something.  I ran another couple weeks on the treadmill, barefoot, just to be sure, and then bought a pair of Vibrams (the KSO model).

I ran with them on the treadmill too, at first, and then graduated to the road.  All short runs, but so far so good. I was skeptical. SKEP-TI-CAL. But I kept at it.  Then, the local Fall Race Series started here, and I registered. I told myself if it was nice enough weather, I’d try them on the trail.  The first race was around 3.5 miles, much of it through a decent-sized flowing creek, but I felt okay. The shoes were fine. I had no pain while running, and I felt like I kept the best pace I could considering my fitness (less than the best). And, perhaps the biggest reward, I had absolutely no post-run pain in my knees. None.

The following two races, also difficult, rocky, messy trail races, went much the same. One was about 5 miles, there was only a couple small water crossings, and an embankment to climb up via a small rope at the end. The Vibrams did fine. The 6 mile race was really rocky, slippery shale, lots of mud, but again, the Vibrams did fine. And just as in the first race, I had NO KNEE PAIN. None during the run, none after. I started feeling like I’d found a miracle.

The last race in the Fall Series was held this past Sunday. It was 28 degrees (F) at the start line, and it had snowed about 5 inches the night before. I was not going to be going barefoot for this one. Sorry, Vibrams, but I had to break out the YakTrax. It was the right thing to do, the safe thing to do, no doubt.  But it was not the best thing for my body, because about 2 miles into the 7 mile race, my right knee was in pain. It was not happy. It was protesting the run for sure. And I knew why– first, I was in shoes. Second, I was sliding around in snow and slush. It was not good.  But it did reinforce all the weeks before, because this was the first time my knee hurt in weeks. And the first time I’d run in shoes in weeks.

A few things I think I can claim with my eight(ish) weeks of experience:

1) The Vibrams are definitely worth a try if your running has been affected by the shoes you’re wearing (or all the shoes you keep trying but don’t end up working).

2) You will get water/mud/slush in your shoes a bit.  It is not a big deal. It’s actually kind of fun, like running around when you were a kid.

3) Some people will wear these in the snow and ice. I am not one of these people.

4) You might stub your toe on a rock during a trail run. You will live. Be honest, you stub your toe in shoes too, right? It might just bleed a little more, or maybe that’s just me.

5) They very well might slow your speed. I am already slow, so there’s really no point in my analyzing that.

6) You need to build up your mileage. So far I’ve only run 8 miles in them, but I’m feeling pretty confident. I have a half marathon in a couple weeks that I’ll likely wear them for. I’ll let you know.

So there you have it. When people see me wearing these, they ask what it’s like, how it’s going, etc.  So far all I say is “okay” and “so far so good.” I’m still skeptical, but I’m running out of reasons to be. And running without pain is the best of all those reasons.

It seems alluding to a race in which one runs through water is not the right thing to do, at least not on the Internet. Little did I know that anyone would be interested in hearing how I slogged through water for about a mile and then had to run another mile thereafter with soaking wet shoes filled with creek dirt. Like I said, hilarious race director.

The race is Part One of the Fall Series held by the Pikes Peak Road Runners. The four races are considered “true cross-country” courses and every effort is made to make them so.  Because normally, you wouldn’t be caught dead running in the water of Monument Creek.  Or at least I wouldn’t. And I ask myself why every. single. year.

Here are a couple photos from the website:

Those are photos from past years, though, and hence are before this year’s lovely course change.  Maybe I’m blaming that course change too much, because we had a really wet spring and summer, which could be the cause of the high water levels, but I’ll tell you one thing for certain: my butt was wet, and I did not fall down.

I can’t lie, though, these races are a lot of fun. Sunday was especially lucky as the sun was shining and the temperatures were well above freezing; both good things when you’re soaking wet.

I just hope the next races are equally successful. I’ll be sure to share my tales of survival. For the next one, I think there’s a steep embankment we have to climb with a rope– a rope the size of dental floss. You’ll be sure to know when I’ve posted on that one because it’ll start with something like “so today I rolled down a hill with fifty people watching. Yay!”

]]> http://justrunjustlivejustbe.com/2009/10/06/running-in-water-okay-walking-in-water/feed/ 6 http://justrunjustlivejustbe.com/2009/08/17/so-heres-them-there-mountain-pictures-i-talked-about/ http://justrunjustlivejustbe.com/2009/08/17/so-heres-them-there-mountain-pictures-i-talked-about/#comments Tue, 18 Aug 2009 01:40:44 +0000 LesleyG http://justrunjustlivejustbe.com/?p=1398

Keep in mind a) I took them with my phone, and b) MY LEGS WERE ABOUT TO FALL OFF.

Thank you, and goodnight.

Aside from the whole near-collapse experience, oh my heck was it was a beautiful day.

And I know we’re only months away from when I start whining incessantly about being cold and freezing every second of the day and OMGSNOWMAKEITSTOPGETMEOUTOFHEREPLEASE, but right now, right now I love living here.

Just not so much the part where I want to cry at the end.

But other than that, me and Colorado are SO on again.

Until, like, November.