Spooky Seven Miles

HALLELUJAH! I FINALLY GOT A REAL RUN IN!

And it was just what I needed to kick these blues to the curb. I know I just wrote a big old long serious post about how much running helps me, but SERIOUSLY! Almost as soon as I started running I could feel the release throughout my entire being. Ahhh!

This is where I defeated the dementors that have been chasing me for the last several days. My patronus was bright and strong.

And then as I began to pound out my seven miles, a different sort of tension began to build. I was running on the same trail I ran on with my running group on Saturday. Only on Saturday it was almost crowded and fully lit and quite welcoming.

Tonight was different. I wasn't able to start running until 5:30 pm so it was starting to get dark and was almost completely dark by the time I finished. Initially, I was very pleased about finding unpaved trails that paralleled the river away from the surrounding neighborhoods. If I squinted a bit, I could almost imagine I was out in the woods instead of in the middle of a huge city.

And then I started passing by several men, either running themselves, walking, or just loafing around. It didn't help that most of them were dressed in black. And that it was only men I saw. I was the only female on the entire 7 miles.

Taking the road less traveled...That is until I got too scared.

I got so spooked that I pulled out my ear buds just so I could hear if someone was running up behind me. I moved to the paved trails and I kept glancing around making sure I was alone. Every time I approached another person I made mental notes of their clothing, hair, build. You know...the details I would need to give the police in case I wasn't just pushed into the nearby river and left for dead.

*shudder*

I probably should have just abandoned the run and gone home, but I needed it so badly. For training and for mental soothing.

I don't think I'll be running that path, that late in the day, that alone, again. And maybe it's time to start carrying some pepper spray or a rape whistle. 

P.S. As I finished my 7 miles, I remembered a blog post on a blog I really loved to follow several years ago. The writer was a free spirit who thrilled to run miles and miles just for the pure love of running. I just didn't get her back then. (I do now.) I remember, vividly, reading a post where she did a 7 mile run one afternoon, just as part of her day. No big deal. "Just 7 miles". I remember thinking, "That is so unhealthy. I think she has a problem. How is that humanly possible?"

It's always good when you can laugh at yourself.

P.P.S. I broke in my new shoes and belt tonight. All is well. The marathon training may continue.

Speaking of Shoes: Altra Torrin Giveaway!

Since I went shoe shopping just yesterday, shoes are definitely fresh on my mind.

I'm fairly new to running; I've only been running fairly consistently for about 18 months. This is the first winter I have ran through. I wimped out last winter. It was just too darn cold and slippery. Brrr!

I bought my first pair of shoes on my first visit to a REAL running store last year. The guy watched me run for a few seconds (literally, only a few seconds) and diagnosed me as an "over-pronater". This means my foot tends to roll the wrong way. He suggested I try the Brooks Adrenaline that comes with a stabilizing thingamabobber that will help with over-pronation. I was inclined to follow his advice and promptly purchased my first pair of REAL running shoes.

These shoes have served me well over the last several months. They carried me, injury-free, through my first half marathon and all the training leading up to it. And they've gotten me well on my way to my first full marathon.

But they're getting worn out. I've noticed the bottoms of my feet are really taking a pounding the higher my mileage gets. There just doesn't seem to be the sole support there that there once was. Time for new shoes!

Actually PAST time for new shoes. I've been putting it off because it's just so darn painful to fork over 100 plus dollars for shoes that can only be worn when you exercise. I know it's a good and necessary thing if you want to run comfortably and injury-free. It just hurts!

At the shoe store yesterday, I asked the clerk about Altras. I've heard lots of good things about them from my online running group. They heart Altras! In fact one of them (and her husband) works with the company. I'm such a newb to the whole running scene that I don't know what all the shoe terms even mean. I just know that a lot of people really dig these Altras. Even the clerk that helped me yesterday was wearing some.

He was a big fan, but he still scared me away from making my first Altra purchase yesterday. Something about not "switching horses mid-stream" and "sticking with what has worked for you". Meaning it may not be a good idea to try a new shoe style in the middle of marathon training. Plus they didn't even have my size. (Just call me "Tawanda, Amazon Woman".)

So I walked out of the store with another pair of Brooks Adrenaline. Same size, different color. Green!

BUT I really want to try those Altras! Which I am going to as soon as I have another $100 to spend on shoes. Or when I win THIS giveaway! Free Altra Torrins?! Yes please! Because really, when am I going to have a spare $100 sitting around?

I'm thinking maybe I'll run my September marathon with Altras. Compare and contrast!

Marathon Mom Massacre

Being in desperate need of new shoes and a hydration belt, I ventured to a running store in the valley. Since we are a one-car family, the only times I have a vehicle to go on such trips are when Joe is out of town. This means I have a car, but I also have little ones in tow. On this particular trip I had four year old, Elle, and two year old, Cee.

Previous to the running store, we had stopped at Target to go through the exciting ritual of picking out some new panties for two year old Cee who is bound and determined to NOT wear her diaper. Ugh. But that's another story. Just as a preface to this story, new panties were fresh in my two young girls' minds.

As soon as we walked in to the running store, which is small in square footage, Cee loaded her diaper. Only I didn't catch on to this until I had removed my bag, sweatshirt, and shoes so I could be fitted for new running shoes. It finally dawned on me that that bad smell was MY child.

As I was realizing this, my four year old was animatedly telling anyone who would listen how her little sister was going to be wearing "big girl panties". It was cute, if not a tad embarrassing that she wouldn't stop saying "panties" to complete strangers.

When the shoe guy went to the back to look for my size (which is embarrassingly large as it is), I seized the opportunity to take my two year old out to the car to change her. She was stinkin' up the whole joint and I was starting to worry that now-informed fellow patrons were wondering if it was the aforementioned "big girl panties" that were soiled instead of the diaper she was (most fortuitously) wearing.

Dashing back in the store I resumed my shoe fitting whilst simultaneously trying to help two little girls behave in a store full of bright colored clothes, gel packets, and a working treadmill. While I talked "zero drop" with the clerk, Cee dug through my bag, pulling out various items. I asked her to put it all back, which she did, except for...a clear Ziploc bag crammed full of tampons and pads. Something I didn't notice, but that the young male clerk did.

Cue flaming red cheeks. Because ya' know, I'm sure he's NEVER seen a tampon before. *rolls eyes*

By that point, I was pretty flustered and ready to purchase just about anything the clerk suggested I should. A few minutes later I walked out with a pair of shoes ($110), a hydration belt ($45), two little girls, and a lost ability to look anyone straight in the eye.

By the time I got back home I had realized how idiotic it was to spend $45 on a "belt". 

Now I just have to work up the nerve to walk back in that store. Which just may be worth $45 to me after all.

The Terror of Ten Miles

Last Saturday I ran ten miles.

If my training schedule hadn't said "10" I would definitely have quit at 7. Those last three miles were t.o.u.g.h. My legs, especially my calves, and the bottoms of my feet were not happy with me. My entire body just felt tired. It was pretty miserable. Towards Mile 9 I found myself talking out loud to...myself.

You can do it! You can do this! Just move. Keep going forward. You can do this, girl!

And I did do it, but instead of feeling proud of my accomplishment, I felt fear.

If I'm struggling this bad to get through ten miles and hurting this bad for the entire day after, how in the world am I going to make it through 26.2 miles? Heck! How am I going to make it through the 11 that I need to run next Saturday?

It's disheartening to let that fear settle in and eat at your confidence. But my hope is that with a bit of education and some new "toys" I can overcome some of the struggles I had with this run.

It's time to bite the bullet and shell out some cash for new shoes and a hydration belt. I've only ever bought one pair of running shoes from a real running store where they watched me run and advised me to buy a certain type of shoe. (I guess I "over pronate"?) That was just last year and it cost me over a $100 as well as some respect from my husband.

He is so not fond of my favorite hobby. The time and money spent on training, gear, and races drive him nuts. It's going to be hard to convince him it's already time to buy more shoes. And then even more money on a "fancy fanny pack". He's going to be thrilled.

Oh and then it's also time to delve into the world of mid-run nutrition.

Shudder.

It's very overwhelming to me. Shouldn't running be simple? Why do I need to learn biochemistry and sell my first born just to run, or at least run comfortably? I guess I'm kind of a lazy runner. I don't want to put much work into it beyond moving my legs.