Marathon Training in July

So, marathon training. That’s still happening. I’ve been meaning to update more regularly but I’m always so busy with something else, like watching four seasons of Archer and live-tweeting Sharknado 2.

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Seriously. Did anyone watch that? It was all I dreamed it could be and more.

Anyway, things have been going pretty well on the running front, all things considered. My calf issue was over until it wasn’t. On my 14-miler a few weeks ago, I jumped a curb and felt a little twinge again. The pain wasn’t terrible and I didn’t need to stop but it also didn’t feel good. So, I pushed August’s calf raking to last week and things seem to be back to normal. I also had the massage therapist work on my shoulder because that pain has been back since I started wearing my CamelBak again. Whoever said running is free can kiss my ass because this crap is expensive. That massage was $25 short of a new pair of running shoes. Luckily, I just don’t know what to do with it all.

money

The only thing that makes me feel better about dropping money I don’t have is that the massage was good. Really good. And so, so helpful. Usually I go to massage therapists and think hub’s massages are 10x better. This guy is worth it, so I guess I don’t feel like it was wasted.

I also did a Crossfit workout a couple weeks ago, on a Monday, that made me crazy sore all week long. In case you’re looking for a workout that will make you think twice about wanting to stand up or sit down or stand idlely.

4 rounds:

  • 400m on the rower
  • 50 squats with the bar (45lbs)
  • 25 forward lunges
  • 25 backward lunges
  • 25 stiff-leg dead lifts with the bar (45lbs)

I swear my trainer told me he was going “lighter” before he gave me this workout since we weren’t using any significant weight. I could barely move for two days and I was still sore by my run on Saturday. I think my trainer feels bad because I’ve been getting some easier workouts since that one which I have been more than okay with.

Last weekend was supposed to be a 16-miler but Brad wasn’t able to run. I suppose I could have run on my own but I’m not that motivated so I slept in. I didn’t even know what to do with my Friday night.

booze

Oh, right. Yes I did.

We changed our 16-miler to this weekend and next weekend’s 10-miler is now 18 so we won’t have a drop in mileage for a few weeks. High mileage = 3am wake-ups to beat the sun because we usually walk a mile or more of all our long runs. #noshame

Since I’m not on Daily Mile anymore, I’m tracking my shoe mileage on a note app on my phone. That’s working pretty well.

Yes, I’m a spoiled brat with three pairs of running shoes. I’m hoping I won’t need to buy new ones until after this running season because I hate changing shoes in the middle of training.

This time around, I’m also tracking all my runs and paces with a calendar to check my improvement over the months and to be able to look back and do it again if I kill this race. (The c’s are crossfit days.)

That’s assuming I’ll run another marathon after this year which is unlikely because…

I skipped a few runs because of calf pain and unexpected schedule changes. I used to beat myself up over missing runs and now I couldn’t care less. I’m following my plan about 85% and I think it’s making training way more enjoyable this time around.

A Decent Run and a Good Cause

I mentioned that marathon training started last weekend. I met up for my first long run with my training bud, Brad, on Saturday. I guess the run went ok for my first 10-miler in three months. My shoulder was hurting again (it’s been a year since that’s bothered me), my calf ached for miles 5-10 because of all the uneven pavement and brick, it was face-of-the-sun hot, and the humidity made breathing suck but, I didn’t wish for actual death so I’m going to consider that one a win.

Since my calf is still the bain of my existence, my Crossfit trainer recommended a massage guy to me that “rakes” calves. I don’t know what “raking” calves means and I’m scared to look it up. Raking anything sounds terrible.

I finally made an appointment, which I’ve put off for a month because I know it’s going to hurt and I’m a big baby. Why can’t problems just disappear if you ignore them? I would rather get a pap smear if that tells you how much I don’t want this “massage” but I would also rather not limp the marathon. So, I sucked it up. I’m tempted to live tweet the massage so we can see what new swear words I invent.

You probably know by now that I’m running Chicago in support of the American Heart Association. Well, I’m also supporting another charity event – the Taste of the Nation Orlando – which raises money for the Share our Strength’s efforts to end childhood hunger. This is the same event that Michelle and I supported last year.

Back in the days of long hair and new boobs. This year I’ll support them with short hair and old boobs.

This is also the event in which I ate and drank my face off and posed with food.

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Ok, that’s all events but this one has all sorts of different food and drinks from awesome restaurants in the Orlando area. Plus, everything that is left over is donated so nothing is wasted.

Taste of the Nation Orlando is running its final discount code. So if you’re in the Orlando area, you’d like to support a great cause, and want to test the limits of your stomach and liver with me, you can get $10 off your ticket through the 11th. (Buy tickets with this link.)

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The deets:

2014 TASTE OF THE NATION ORLANDO
WHEN:
Saturday, August 9, 2014
6:45 p.m. – 10:00 p.m.

WHERE:
Orlando World Center Marriott
8701 World Center Dr., Orlando

Now, who knows what raking calves is and what am I in for?

I’m Sorry Sugar

I have been super busy lately. Busy watching TV and neglecting social obligations! (High five?) Well, neglecting this blog for sure. It even went down for a few days when my web host’s server was hacked. But no one noticed – including myself until well into day 2.  Anyway, it’s back up so I can tell you the important things like how I finished season 2 of Orange is the New Black. Hubs made me stay up until 2am on a school night just to watch the last three episodes. If there’s anything I love more than TV, it’s sleep. So trust me when I say that was not my choice.

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And because animals falling asleep are adorable.

I need a duck and a meercat.

I loved season 2 as much as season 1 but I think it took 3-4 episodes to get going. Those first episodes didn’t have any direction, which really bothered me, because my entertainment bar is set too high apparently.

Then I finished season 2 of Orphan Black. On demand is a beautiful thing. I didn’t really care for the finale, but then again I didn’t really care for the season 1 finale either. It’s still a great show and you should watch it so we can talk about it.

Now I’m moving on to season 8 of Weeds. Where have I been that I didn’t know Weeds ended two years ago?

After Weeds, I will be out of shows to watch so I’ll either need to find something new or do something with my life.

Last weekend, hubs threw a pool party at the house for his work peeps because he’s an appreciative guy like that. He set up the whole thing, cleaned the house for weeks, picked up some BBQ catering, and spent the whole party making frozen pina coladas and margaritas for everyone. I did nothing. Ok, I helped in the only department in which I am useful – booze and desserts. I made this s’mores dessert.

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It was delicious and just so bad for you. You could feel a future heart attack with every bite. I did use fat free Cool Whip, so I guess it was kinda healthy. Plus, Cool Whip is basically dairy and dairy has protein, which is good for you. Logic.

I also made these “swimming pool” blue-raspberry Jell-O shots with coconut vodka.

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I know. Adorable. But it doesn’t end there. I also made these giant “beach” Jell-O shots.

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I’m quite the hostess. It’s true.

The sweets kept on coming as people arrived. My friend, Jamie, made boozy pudding pops with Kahlua that were pretty amazing and these roasted s’mores shots. I repeat, roasted. s’mores. shots.

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Basically I ate sugar all day long. I’m not proud. Well, I kinda am proud because it was impressive, but no. It was bad news. It made me reasses my eating habits because the party was not a one-time thing. I eat a lot of crap. So after the party, I decided to quit sugar.

I know.

I know.

Sugar is the the reason I exist so don’t think I’m happy about it. It’s only been 8 days and I want to make it to 30, which is like a year in Paula time. So we’ll see. I’ll write more on my complete misery without sugar in a week or so. The good news is my work twin, Cheyanne, quit sugar with me so it makes my heart happy to know she is miserable too.

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I’m definitely drunk there.

Oh and lastly, marathon training officially started Saturday with a hot 10-miler and an early wake-up. I will miss my sleep-ins and leisurely runs at the gym while watching bad TBS movies. Now that training started, I’ll be updating my FB page a little more than usual with running bitching updates since the blogging thing seems to happen once a week these days.

 

 

Four More Sleeps

I reached my fundraising goal, guys.

Feels

I have the feels. All of them. Relief that I made my goal when I wasn’t so sure I could going into the fundraising thing for the first time. Happiness that I might be helping someone out in need. Gratitude that so many people in my life were willing to give. ALL THE FEELS. There is no way I’ll run this race without crying. I can already tell I’m going to be a hot mess. So thank you all who donated again. I swear I’ll stop thanking you at some point. Maybe. Probably not.

It’s almost June so that means I have exactly four Saturdays left to sleep in until marathon training starts.

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I’m trying my hardest to make them count by drinking as much as possible so I’m unable to get out of bed. It’s the little goals.

I’m actually looking forward to training this time around. I say this having not run in humidity in a year, so plan on that perspective changing.  My runs lately have been short and all sorts of crappy because I have this giant knot in my left calf that hurts like a bitch. I told my trainer about it (I thought it was a pulled muscle) and he worked it out as best he could while dealing with all my squirming and complaining.

pain

I legit broke a sweat while he was “massaging” my calf. I use the term massage lightly because the next day, I had a 3-inch long bruise on my calf from his thumb. The good news is, it’s 70% better but I need it to be 100% before I start this long run business back up otherwise it’s just going to get worse. It’s getting better way too slowly for my taste so now I’m icing and stretching and foam rolling. All the things I hate.

I can’t remember if I mentioned this or not, but I’ll be doing all my training with my friend, Brad, this time around.

I met Brad in my running group a few years ago and he ran the Savannah Rock n Roll marathon (my first) with Michelle and I. We’re pace twins and we both have no problem walking if the other one is dying, so we’re a good training match. If you’re wondering why I don’t train with Michelle – it’s because she needs to do her long runs on Sunday because of her hub’s work schedule and mass quantity of children, and Saturday runs work better with my schedule. It’s not because I hate her.

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Anyway, Brad and I have one goal for marathon training this year: not gaining weight. So we’ll see how that goes. I’ll try to remind myself that burgers for every meal on days I run over 10 miles isn’t a good plan.

Speaking of that goal, my work is trying to kill me with delicious food and desserts. We had a Memorial Day potluck. Who does that?

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Well, I did. But besides that. (Stole that pic from Michelle.)

I’ve never worked at a place that has so many damn potlucks. My last job had one a year, at Thanksgiving. I have been at my current job for eight months and we have had EIGHT potlucks. A breast cancer awareness potluck (not kidding) and then one for Thanksgiving, Christmas, two going away potlucks, one baby shower potluck, and one team potluck. Even when I avoid them, the leftovers are in the kitchen afterwards. And don’t even suggest using “self-control” and “not eating the food in the kitchen” because that isn’t a thing in which I’m capable.

In addition to the potlucks, we have breakfast on Friday, birthday cake once a month, and random donut bringer-inners. I can’t win this fight.

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Getting Faster

It was nice pretending this was a vacation blog for awhile, but it’s time to get back to some running stuff mmkay? I’m taking some time off for the next two months before marathon training starts, so the most I’m running are three milers. Nothing really to report there. But a bunch of you asked what I did differently to PR my last three races since I’ve been so good about not PRing crap for three years. So I thought I’d share my deep, dark secrets.

Oh, and when I say a bunch of you asked, I mean one.

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I didn’t follow a plan, I just changed a few things that I thought could use improvement. I all but gave up on PRs, so I didn’t really expect these things to work. In any case, here they are:

1. I ran outside more and on the treadmill less.

I know a lot of you hate the treadmill but I love it. I like AC and I like nearby toilets to poop in and I like TVs in front of my face. So as much as I hate running outside, I swapped one (sometimes two) treadmill runs a week for an outside run. Not for speed. Just for more outside running.

2. I added one tempo run a week – on the treadmill.

My speed runs were sporadic at best so I made sure I did one  a week. I ran all my tempos on the treadmill so I could keep my pace consistent. I ran one warm-up mile (always a 10:00 pace) and three miles at a faster pace (usually a 8:50). I picked a faster pace that was challenging but not so hard that I needed to walk. Some weeks it was easy and others I could barely make it though.

3. I was uncomfortable during all three races.

None of the races were easy, even at the beginning. I feel like, in order for me to PR a race, I’m going to hate the during part. I know it’s not like that for everyone. Some people feel omg amazing the entire time. Some people can’t believe they magically got so fast when they were just running the race “for fun.” That’s not me. I’m putting in a lot of effort the entire time and it sucks until I cross the finish line and see my finish time. And then it’s amazing.

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I did the first two things for two months and it worked somehow. Not really crazy or complicated, which I like, so I’ll make sure to add it to my training plan for Chicago.

Out of Retirement

You might remember my friend and former blogger, Melissa.

She lives in DC and wrote Hungry, Healthy, Happy for awhile. We met through our blogs, decided to take our online stalking relationship to real life stalking and the rest is history.

Well, Melissa just finished her first marathon and because I’m selfish and wanted to hear all about it, I asked her if she wanted to guest post. She totally fell for it. I don’t normally accept guest posts. In fact, this is my first one. Probably my last one. But I love hearing about this kind of stuff and I was thinking you might too.

So without further adieu…

Out of blogging retirement to tell you all about my marathon?!?! Yes, please! After all, the only real way to validate my achievement is to toot my own horn via the internet, amirite? ;)

So, those of you who read my little old blog back in the day may remember the following chain of events:

  1. Run a 20 minute PR in the half marathon (1:34:38) to my complete and total shock. Qualify for the NYC Marathon.
  2. Train for a different marathon (because NYC couldn’t possibly be my first <eye roll>). Become horribly, debilitatingly injured to the point that I could barely walk. Cease marathon training. Avoid the doctor because: uninsured.
  3. Rest and (sort of) heal injury. Train for NYC Marathon.
  4. NYC Marathon cancelled due to devastation caused by Hurricane Sandy.
  5. Be salty about NYC Marathon cancellation.
  6. Run Richmond Marathon the following weekend only to have my bastard knees soul-crushingly give out about 8 miles in. Fight through until mile 20. Hobble off the course feeling extra super sorry for myself.
  7. Continue to feel sorry for myself and not run again for 4 months.
  8. Run another (slower) half. Get injured again.
  9. Get insurance. Go to PT. Have my body beat into submission so it will work as designed.
  10. Be HEALED!

The PT really worked. I got back to running in November of last year and joined P and Michelle (among many lovely others!) for the Celebration Half Marathon in January. When I mentioned to my co-worker that I was thinking of running the DC Rock n’ Roll Half in March, he asked, “Why not the full?” I didn’t have a good answer, so I signed up. Seemed like a well-thought-out plan.

I proceeded to tell myself my goal was simply to finish–not for time, not for glory, just for the achievement of actually RUNNING A MARATHON (<–yes, that requires all caps in my world). Running a marathon is a pretty sweet accomplishment, and I wanted to be part of that club.

If you followed me in the past, you know I was militant about my training. This time? I was so un-me, it was mildly baffling. I made a training plan, but if I missed a workout, I didn’t really think about it. (It was a long, cold winter, yo.) I slowed down my runs to 9ish minute mile pace (instead of the 8 minute insanity that likely caused all my injuries) and did exactly 2 speed workouts. Not 2 speed workouts per week. Two speed workouts TOTAL.

HOWEVER–in typical Melissa fashion, I fell. A lot. Well, twice. Once on the ice just one mile in to my 18 miler. I got up and finished the run, then went to urgent care for a pretty seriously sprained right arm. It was really fun not being able to feed myself or fasten my bra for the two weeks following that. The second fall, sweet baby Roo (that would be my dog) got under my feet, and I fell on my face. Because I have no shame and needed to be coddled, I took selfies of my scraped fat lip and posted them on Instagram. The world needs to see that kind of thing. I also tore my favorite running tights and made mincemeat of my knee in that fall. I actually had to sit down and put my head between my legs because I was seeing spots and thought I might pass out. So that was super fun. Oh, and that happened just a week before marathon day. Naturally, I went out the next day and blew through 11 miles like I had something to prove. I know that if you don’t post it on Instagram, it didn’t happen, but I took a picture of my Garmin, which is almost the same. Also, running fast miles less than a week before my race might not have been the smartest move, but since when do runners do smart things?

Roo sees me taking selfies and needs to get in on it. I understand.

After serious taper crazies (I have never had so much nervous energy in my life), I woke up on race morning completely terrified but also strangely ready. I was able to meet up with Steph, an old friend from Michigan and my training partner, before the race, and seeing her calmed my nerves a tiny bit. I still felt like I was going to throw up, but felt better that a friendly face was nearby to hold my hair back.

When my corral finally set off, I was so cold/nervous that my teeth were chattering. I know–I’m not dramatic at all. But after about a half mile, I settled in and just felt excited that I was RUNNING A MARATHON.  I tried not to run too fast and reminded myself that my primary goal was to FINISH. Still, I did have a secondary goal in mind of finishing in 3:45–Chicago qualifying time–so there was a fair amount of people dodging going on. In general, though, I tried to enjoy the energy and not lose sight of the fact that we were running along the National Mall, which in itself is pretty cool.

About 6 miles in came a killer hill. I’d run it before and knew it was coming, but we’re talking at least a quarter mile of steep incline, so I basically hated my life for those three minutes. There was a ton of crowd support, though, so that ensured I wouldn’t wuss out and walk or anything. Around mile 8, I spotted a co-worker who’d come out to cheer me on, so that made me pretty happy, and shortly after that, I caught up with the 3:40 pacers. While I said my primary goal was to finish, and my secondary goal was to qualify for Chicago, my tertiary goal (I’m so annoying) was 3:40. Or–more specifically 3:38. I have no idea why I picked that number, but I wanted it. I wasn’t going to be heartbroken if I didn’t hit it, but I knew I could, and I was going to try for it.

Mike and Tim, the pace group leaders, introduced themselves and made me introduce myself to the group (Melissa, from Michigan, Project Manager, first time marathoner). Now, I have never been a particularly social runner–or person, if we’re being honest. I’m a little shy and usually feel awkward and like I’m talking too loudly and saying stupid things. But this group felt different–safer somehow. They were supportive and interesting and actually super helpful. Mike and Tim told us when to ease up on the pace, gave us tips about the course, and were generally entertaining throughout. Miles 8-20 flew by. I’m not even exaggerating. I was smiling obnoxiously the whole time.

I also saw my parents a few times and a couple other co-workers who’d come out to cheer, which was the best. I got so excited when I saw them, and it was really nice to have people there for me–I’ve never had that before, and I was surprised at how much it helped! I also pointed out to my spectators that I was “running with the fast people!!!” I am so embarrassing.

About mile 21, we headed out to a long and lonely loop around a park, and my legs started to get tired. I kept up the pace, but I started to feel a new kind of pain around my upper thighs that I’d not experienced before. This is where it got pretty mental, and I really had to talk myself through. The pacers were about 20 yards ahead of me, so I told myself to run my own race. That I knew it was going to be hard. That if I wanted to hit my goal, I was going to have to work for it. That I could slow down, make it easier, still finish in 3:45, but I wanted that 3:38, so I kept pushing.

Then, it got hilly. I was displeased. After 3 rolling hills, I figured we had to be leveling out. Nope. Another hill loomed a half mile ahead as I crested what I had hoped was the last hill, and a rather loud expletive escaped. Pretty sure I just shouted what everyone else was thinking. While the hills were probably good for my body because they forced me to change pace, they were not good for my mind, which didn’t want a challenge at that point. I wanted to be done.

But even though I was tired and even though the pacers were closer to 40 yards ahead by now, my Garmin told me I was still running in the 8:–teens, which was PLENTY fast for me. And while the last few miles should’ve felt long and endless, they weren’t. Before I knew it, I was rounding the bend to the stadium with the finish in sight. My Garmin clocked the course about a half mile long (running through a tunnel confused it), so it was just slightly infuriating when I thought I should be done, but still had a half mile to go. When I realized where the actual finish was, though, and how close I was to it, I bolted. I have never been so happy to see a finish line in my life. Evidence: last mile: 7:21. I may have been a tiny bit excited. I saw my parents as I entered the chute, too, which made me even more excited, if that’s possible. I think I yelled to them, “I RAN A MARATHON!!!!” So much cheese.

 

When I crossed the finish line, I was handed my medal. I saw my pace group leaders right away and went over to them to give them hugs and fall all over myself with gratitude to them for helping me through. Mike took my medal from me and put it around my neck and told me I’d earned it. I kind of got all weepy, but recovered quickly when he revealed that he was actually a Secret Service Agent. I guess that makes sense given the horrific events in Boston last year and the fact that we were in the Nation’s Capitol and all, but still. Took me right off guard. Oh, and his name wasn’t Mike, either. Heh.

Official finish: 3:38:06.

What’s next? Not sure. If I never run another marathon, I will always be happy with the one I did run. The fact that I did it is enough. Reaching my goal is the icing on the cake, and honestly, I don’t know that I can top this experience. And after several (ahem, three) false starts in the marathon distance, I’m just so freaking proud of myself that I finally finished one.

That Time I Didn’t Totally Hate Running

My work had an ugly sweater contest yesterday. I came in third!

(If you follow me on Instagram, you’ve already seen this.)

That’s not a sweater. It’s a t-shirt. This is Florida people. Don’t go thinking we own actual sweaters around here. I had a hard time deciding between this shirt and the one that said “Merry Christmas Bitches!” Obviously, I chose the more work appropriate holiday humping shirt and it paid off handsomely. And by handsomely, I mean not at all because I didn’t get jack for third place.

I didn’t let the lack of a (deserved, if you ask me) prize get me down because my new Mizuno Wave Rider 17s came in the mail!

So pretty! So shimmery!

I went for a four mile run and the jury is still out on if I like them. The ankles are comfortable but the top of the shoe is really tight, which I’m not sure I like. They also might be a touch too narrow, but that could be in my head because the blood blister on the bottom of my pinky toe (from my last race) is aggravated by running in general.

I’m going to loosen the laces for my next run and see how it goes. I may or may not return them for the wide version. I’m a little apprehensive because I’m afraid they’ll be too wide. #neverhappy

Anyway, I’d like these shoes to work out for me. They’re light, cute, and make me feel like prancing. Also, I don’t want to go around presuming they are magical or anything but…

I’ve never had an outside run where most of my miles were in the eights. Usually I hate running outside. It almost never goes well and I’m miserable, but yesterday wasn’t so bad. Well, my face was covered by at least 40 gnats at the end, which was disgusting. I don’t want to think about how many made it in my mouth. That is probably #6 on my list of why I hate running outside. I’ll go ahead and answer the question you’re probably already thinking besides, “how could a runner hate running outside?”

Reasons I Hate Outside Running

  1. Humidity
  2. Heat
  3. Lack of available bathrooms to poop in
  4. I have to carry water or run a boring loop with water fountains
  5. I might get shot
  6. At least 40 gnats in my face

So what I’m saying is, either the shoes are powered 9:00 minute mile cheetahs or I became amazing within one week.

I’ll keep you updated on that answer.

Five for Friday

1. I went for a run last night. This was my view.

That means my run was not on my beloved treadmill, but outside in the land of gnat clouds. The temperature was in the low 60s (that’s our cool front) when I started and everyone on the path was already in winter jackets and long sleeves. Florida is hilarious when it dips below 72F. There is no reason for any of us to own a quilted winter jacket.

2. I ran five miles. I didn’t feel omgamazing but I felt alright and this is how it went.

I know it’s only five miles (no walking! hive five), but I couldn’t even get one mile like that during my race. Apparently I’m not meant to run races but boring mile loops around a lake.

3. I got my first Christmas card in the mail. (From this girl who just changed her blog name. You know you’re gonna have to change that again in 10 years right?)

There are several things I like about how this was addressed. Probably the first being that all our last names are Hamm. There’s something delightful and disgusting about the name Pants Hamm.

4. Last weekend, we went to see Steve Byrne at the Improv with a bunch of friends and got to meet him after the show.

He’s on a show called Sullivan and Son on TBS that we don’t watch, so we had no idea who he was but we had a good time and Steve was a nice guy. Some of his routine was a little too offensive for me (and I am really hard to offend) but other than that, worth seeing.

5. Hubs and I watched Winter’s Bone last night.

Yeah, I know it’s old. I have a lot of catching up to do. Anyway, I bought the movie on super sale and have been meaning to watch it for awhile now.

I’m going to sum it up quickly so you don’t have to watch it.

*Spoiler Alert*

*You’ll thank me later*

Jennifer Lawrence is dirt poor and raises her two younger siblings because her mom is crazy and her dad’s in jail for cooking meth. Dad jumps bail and disappears “mysteriously.” (It’s not really mysterious.) The dad’s debt threatens to take the family house so she has to find him. She walks from house to house asking people where her dad is while wearing a sweet deer sweater.

Alright, so that happens for about an hour. Oh, and it’s cold out. I guess that’s why it’s called Winter’s Bone because there’s no other explanation. Although, no one ever seems really cold in the movie so I question the temperature.

Anyway, after asking enough people, she finds her dad. He’s dead in the water (literally) and she has to chop his hands off to prove it (best not to ask).  Finally, she gets to keep the house. Then she makes her siblings feel like crap unintentionally.

The end.

When I say nothing really happened in this movie, I am not exagerrating. However, this is what is written on the back of the box.

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Hubs mentioned that we did technically have pulses during the movie. So they got us there.

A New Attitude

I already forgot about that race that shall not be mentioned. Amazing what a few days and a lot of beer can do. Thanks, beer.

I’m already formulating a plan for my next race in January. I’d tell you what that plan is but then I won’t follow through because, well, I’m a quitter. That’s why part of this new plan (that I will tell you about) involves an attitude adjustment.

Once my mental state goes downhill, it’s over for me. I can’t get it back. I read all these blog posts about how people tough it out and dig deep during a race, and I wish that was me, but it’s not. This basically means that I’m the least competitive person you’ll ever meet because I give up so easily. I find it really easy to stop caring.

So if you like to beat your friends in races – or in anything really – I’m the girl you want to hang around. I’d be like the old lady that Finnick carried on his back in Catching Fire, except I’d be completely able to walk and 30 years younger.

If I was a dog, I’d be this dog.

So, goal #1: Attitude adjustment

I’ve had several people tell me that I get inside of my head too much when I race. Not sure how I’m going to go about fixing that but I guess I have a month to figure it out. So here’s to not being a poopy pants anymore. Also, here’s to not actually pooping my pants anymore. Why not go for two goals?

I’m already excited about my next race, so I think that helps. Plus, you know my attitude is starting to change when this doesn’t get me down:

stats

Pretty sweet place there.

What do you do to keep up your morale during a race? (If you tell me you repeat mantras, I’m going to delete your comment. haha. Just kidding. Maybe.)

Shoe Drama

Shoe drama. I gots it.

I’m sure some of you knew this post was coming. Running shoes and I have always had a dicey relationship. I think I’ve found the perfect shoe but then it gets discontinued. Or I seem to find something wrong with the shoe, even if there might not really be anything wrong at all. Like my Brooks Ghost 5, for example. They are probably the shoes I should stick with because they never gave me a problem, they wear right in the middle which may mean I’m heel striking less, and they even lasted a crazy 700 miles.

I just can’t stand the sight of them.

Ugh. Denim blue. The worst. Those are dying to be worn with some khaki Bermuda shorts and a fanny pack. (Sorry, to those who wear these. I’m sure you look beautiful in them. Especially this girl.)

Lately, I’ve been alternating between the Brooks Glycerine 12’s and the Mizuno Wave Creation 14s. The Glycerines feel good and I like the look of them a lot.

But man, the flexibility is not there. They feel so stiff after six or seven miles like I’m in a pair of clodhoppers, so I’m hyper-aware they are on my feet. Do people still use the word clodhoppers? We should bring that back into common rotation. Try it. ;-)

The Wave Creations are decent, but they wear on the inner heel so I’m probably heel striking more. They make my feet look more gigantic than they already are but they’re cute so I forgive them.

Also, after about 11 miles, I feel like I need more padding in the forefront of the foot. These aren’t anywhere close to minimalists, so I’m not sure what that’s all about because I never had that issue during the two years I wore the 12s.

So basically, I can run shorter distances in both the Brooks and the Mizunos fine but they will not do for marathon training. So, I’m going to do what I do best: buy shoes I don’t really need right now but have convinced myself that I do.

Say hi to the Mizuno Wave Rider 17s (and to your mother) for me.

I can’t decide which color. Help!

I wore the 15s for awhile but they were a bit too narrow and rubbed on my pinky toe to the point where I was limping after a race. I’m willing to give the 17s a chance since they were completely redesigned and are freakin’ adorable. Adorable is important. When you look like I do after a race, it’s important to keep something looking good.

The 17s go on sale on December 4, so expect me to be bitching about them around the 18th. If they don’t work out, I’m giving up and going back to the Brooks Ghosts. Hopefully the 6’s didn’t change too much from the 5’s because I need this vicious cycle to end so I can go back to spending my money on less important things like rent and electricity.