Re-building, part deux

Over the past week and a half, I've run in driving rain, 80 degree heat, and windy, chilly "cold for Southern California" temps of 30 degrees. While the weather has varied, the runs have one thing in common: they all felt kind of hard, although I've been running slower than I did last year (read: when I was in better shape).

So I've found myself almost dreading the run. It doesn't help that I'm taking boot camp twice a week, which gives my lower body and core a tiring workout.

So last night, on Christmas Eve, I thought, "the hell with it," and ran the prescribed 6 miles nice and easy. Really easy. Like 10:00 to 10:20/mile pace. And you know what? It was blissful. I enjoyed looking at all the holiday lights in my neighborhood, listening to my even breathing, and feeling the air rush in and out of my lungs.

I gotta do that more often.

Happy Holidays, everyone.

Building the Base

Brick by brick, I'm re-building my running base. And boy, is it ever hard work. Not just physically, although, it can be murder just running an easy 6-miler when your quads and hams are screaming from boot camp the day before.

It's almost more difficult mentally. Going from one run a week (at best) to three or four runs plus two sessions of boot camp a week is tough. When that alarm goes off at 5 a.m., sometimes I'm raring to go. Most times, I have to talk myself into getting up. And when I don't get up at 5 a.m., that means a run in the dark after work. When all I want to do is to relax and grab a drink with friends or hang out with my SO and dog.

But if this were easy, everyone would be doing it. And even just the measly 2 1/2 weeks of hard work is starting to pay off: I've lost 2.6 lbs. Woohoo!

You gotta celebrate the little things in life.

One step forward, one step down

So there I was, walking to my office this afternoon on a cool late afternoon. Minding my own business. When I turned a corner in my high-heeled black boots and BAM, twisted my right ankle and fell down hard, with all my weight on my left knee.

My first thought -- well, after $#*^@! --  was, "Am I going to be able to run 6 miles tomorrow morning?"

The answer? No way. I couldn't put any weight on my left leg for a few minutes and just stayed on the ground, massaging my right ankle. Now I can limp around. I am such a freaking klutz, sometimes. I've fallen here and here in races.

Methinks running is not in the near future. Definitely not tomorrow. But maybe I'll be in good enough shape for my long run on Saturday .... wishful thinking?

Crunching the Numbers

After running for four months with my Garmin 305, I finally installed the device's software and uploaded a season's worth of runs onto my computer.

One thing I've realized: I usually don't wait long enough for the satellites to pick up my Garmin before I start running. I'm not exactly a patient person, alas. Garmin doesn't start tracking my run until after I've already logged a half-mile. Which means that Garmin undertracks my mileage.That also means that the first mile of my runs read abnormally slow: 13 to 14:00/mile instead of 9:30/mile or so.

Does this happen to anyone else?

Qualifying for Boston. Take Two.

After being derailed by a sprained ankle back in January 2008 and then by a decidedly lackluster running regimen, I've decided to get back on track.

My aim: Qualifying for Boston in 2010. At the OC Marathon next May 2.

There. I've said it.

Time to make it happen.

I signed up several weeks ago for a marathon training program: The Sole Runners. We meet every Saturday in San Pedro, by the beach. Most everyone is less experienced and slower than me. Hmmm. The jury is still out on this one, but I may have just wasted $150 on this program.

Started boot camp last week. Love it. Of more which, later.

I stopped blogging last year b/c it was too much work. So I'm keeping this very low-key for now. That way, I don't have to edit (too much) what I write. Or feel guilty if I don't write every day.

Off to bed. It's 1:31 a.m. and I have to log 5 miles tomorrow in the rain.

Alas, no Mai Tais on the Lake

IMG_2499
Originally uploaded by bexdc

At least not tonight. E. and I wanted to take a short cruise this evening on Lake Tahoe - much like our Tahoe Relay team, the Band of Outsiders, did a few weeks ago (that's me and Br. relaxing on the boat). But because of the 4th of July holiday weekend, all the cruises are full. Alas.

In other news: I used my heart-rate monitor for the first time today. I ran between 4.5 and 5 miles at 7,000 ft. altitude at noon, in about 80 degree heat. I should have started earlier, but what the hey.

And despite taking it easy on the hilly course, my average heart rate was 167 beats/minute. Hmmm. Kind of high. According to conventional wisdom, that's between 85 percent and 90 percent of effort. It didn't feel like it, though.

My Garmin 50 uses a foot pod to calibrate distance and mile-pace. And I see that I need to re-calibrate it to my stride length. Because it says I ran 6.3 miles in 42:39. Which is something crazy -- like 6:47/mile.

I wish.

Not to Be: Firecracker 10K Race

Path and blue sky
Originally uploaded by don33c

So my coach wanted me to run a 10K on July 4 wearing a heart-rate monitor. She wants to better gauge my fitness level to create a custom training plan for me.

But the Firecracker 10K Fun Run that was supposed to be held today in Carson City, NV - the only July 4 race within a two-hour radius of our cabin at Lake Tahoe - got downgraded on Tuesday to a "fun run", after the race director flaked out. Which probably meant no heart-rate info. But I tried, anyway.

What happened:

6:45 AM: We stumble out of bed and head to the fun run, about 1 hour away. The run was to start at 8 AM, but we knew there would only be 30-40 runners max, so parking and getting to the race start wouldn't be a problem.

7:15 AM: We get stuck behind a bunch of cars unloading families heading to the lakefront for about 10 minutes. Also inadvertently got caught in a July 4th parade route, but luckily it was still early in the day, so the wait was only a few minutes for that.

Meanwhile, I strap on my heart-rate monitor, which I've never used before, and try to pair the monitor to my running watch (I use a Garmin 50). Am unsuccessful. I pull out the Garmin 50 instructions. And find that they are in French. I laugh and try to read the instruction manual with my high-school French. Still unsuccessful.

7:25 AM: Still 25 miles away from the race start, we get stuck again - for 40 MINUTES - in a half-mile long stretch of traffic composed of cars towing boats - they were all waiting to get into the parking lot for a local marina. Damn Independence Day traffic. We were on a very curvy 2-lane road and didn't want to drive blindly into oncoming cars to beat the traffic jam.

After 20 minutes, I get out of the car and jog 1/4 mile to see what the hell was the hold-up. A couple of teenage girls in an SUV yell, "Whooo-hooo!" as I run past. I smile and wave. I look at the traffic jam at the mouth of the marina parking lot, shake my head, and jog back to the car.

On the way back, a car full of chubby 20-something men, who were already drinking beer, snicker and laugh as I run by. I stifle the urge to stop, stick my face into the passenger window, and say, "Why don't you get your fat asses out of the car and work off some of that blubber?"

8:10 AM: We get to a straight stretch of road, veer around the holiday traffic and speed towards the fun run. Which had already started.

8:40 AM: After driving past strip malls and into the Nevada desert, past a state prison and a reclamation plant, we arrive at the race start. Where there was no start/finish line, runners, refreshments, etc. The fun run was in a park of desert scrub and the trail was made up of loose gravel and sand.

Only a couple of guys, one of whom was from the Fleet Feet store, were there. He says that only 3 other runners showed up. As he was talking, 2 runners run in - the first had already come and gone. Fleet Feet guy adds there are no mile markers either on the route, either. Then he thanks us for coming, gives me and my husband very cool Pearl Izumi lightweight sweat-wicking shirts, and drives off.

8:50 AM: Now alone, we head out on the run. It's about 85 degrees already and the sun blazes high overhead. We trudge through the sand at an easy 9:30 pace. There are no other runners, just a couple of folks walking their dogs. By the second loop, we encounter no other people - the dog-walkers had come and gone.

9:15 AM: The air is very still and it's gotten hotter. It felt like we were on a mini Bataan Death March. Sand gets into my shoes. Parched, we run out of water. Several large birds sit in one of the few trees on the trail. They stare at us implacably. At first I think they were vultures, but then see they are hawks. I should be comforted by this information. But I'm not.

9:35 AM: At 45 minutes, out throats dusty and sweat stinging our eyes, we said, "The hell with this," and stop.

On the upside: I signed up a moment ago for a 10K to be held next Sunday, at the beach in LA. I can gather my heart-rate monitor information at this race. And sea breezes beat desert heat hands-down. I'm just hoping the race director doesn't freak out at the last minute.

Happy 4th of July, everybody!