So, this little slow goin' guy is about how I felt last week starting off my base building. Like I was trudging through solid ground. Like my sneaks had been dipped in concrete, and I was told to run that way. I got in 7 miles last week, and they say the first mile back is always the hardest. I tend to disagree, it's the second one for me. I have so much adrenaline pumping in my veins, that I go off at the shot like I am Kenyan. I usually round out that first mile at 9.15.00-9.30.00 feeling amazing. Like 'Hey running hiatus of five months, you ain't got nuthin' on me!' Then lap three, of 8.75 of my second mile, the burning in my chest is such that it tastes like my saliva is pure metal. Every swallow makes me think I have got to be swallowing saliva with blood, that is how metallic it tastes. Like iron filled blood. With that taste in my throat I slow down, way down. I go from my shot out the gate 9.15.00 mpm (minute per mile), to a dribble out the honey bear plastic jar that is 3 months old and crystallized, 17.42.00 mpm. Whew, that is pathetic, for me. Even when I was at my heaviest weight (which was WHO-GE), I could maintain at least 11.30.00 mpm. This makes me feel like I have failed. But, I have admitted and realized that I mentally do this to myself, and I know how to fix it. Keep running and just get better. Just get faster. Just keep setting those goals and PR's (personal records), and obliterate them. Oh yeah, and the hard truth I heard today, "You just gotta run more races." Hearing that can instantly put me in a funk. You just don't understand what race day does to someone who would rather quit than fail. Race day makes you feel like....well, I haven't been able to quite pin down the description of the feeling yet, I just know it is worse than acid reflux.
Worried that last weeks attempt at base building has set the bar for this week, only because you hear that week two is harder on you physically and mentally than week one. I attack this week with mother running vengeance. I am attacking with all my arsenal. Core, weights, rolling, and stretching. What you gotta understand is this, in the past as I have dropped some serious weight (85 pounds if you must know), I have gotten faster. With that comes IT-Band issues. In non-runners terminology: a whole lotta pain while running on the outside of your knee that can go all the way up into your boo-hoo-tay. The remedy: Stretch it, roll it (very painful by the way to roll it), stretch it, strengthen it, stretch it, and stretch it. So, my base building, and then training will be somewhat different form all the others. This time, my plan of attack is to hit with all my guns, and running when I want to run, even if I already have.
Which leads me to today. A I lay in bed contemplating whether or not to lay there for the full snooze and I remember that it was foretasted to be frigid yet again this morning. Which means I had to warm up the car, to get to the Y, to run on the dreadmill, for ONLY 2 miles. I know, 2 measly little miles. I am going to drive 1.5 miles to run 2. But, by the time you warm up when running in the freezer, your just about to finish mile 2. No point in suffering, hit the dreadmill. These 2 miles were not like what others have said. "Getting back into it is gonna be hell. Especially week two." Well, in your hellish week two face! I didn't consume mouthfuls of metallic, bloody, saliva. I ran. I sweat. I finished my measly miles, went home (my car was still warm when I pulled away), and showered. I returned to the Y again at 7:30 p.m. for my daughter to partake in cardio-kickboxing. Which was humorous, only because the instructor was roughly 300 pounds, and 50+ years of age. I said to my daughter "Have fun, sweat a lot." and I turned around headed back up the stairs, and right to the dreadmill for another round. This time, I was going to make it complicated. I walked for 3/10ths of mile one to warm up, increasing my incline to 12, thus raising my HR enough to warm up quickly. I lower the incline to 0, put my speed at 5.7 (roughly a 10.30.00 mpm) and begin my second run for the day, because I wanted to. This turns into a battle of my mind. I increase the incline 5, 9, 4, 10, 3, 11, 2, 12, 1, 13, while running a 10.30.00 mpm. I am sweating so badly I decide now is a good time to check my HR....170! Sweet. After 1 mile of doing this to myself, I slow down to a 12.00.00 mpm and bring my HR down to 130, and I begin mile 2 with a 10.00.00 mpm. At the 2.25 marker I bump up my speed to 9.45.00ish mpm. At 2.5 I bump it to 9.30.00ish. I continue doing this until I am sprinting a 7.50.00ish mpm. I finish at 3.2 miles completed. I am a sweaty mess, and I realize that I am wearing cotton underwear, because my intentions when coming back to the Y tonight were to chill on the bike and look at a magazine and not even break a sweat. It just so happens I was wearing an Under Armour tee, and running pants, along with the chaffing enemy. But instead, I pulled a double today. Who does that? I will tell you who. A mother-runner. A mother-runner whose measly miles don't feel so measly anymore. They feel a little bit more mother-runner-ish, like "Yeah, I ran today, TWICE." But, I will reflect on how those non-measly feeling miles are really feeling tomorrow, while doing a plank.
*this weeks miles are no longer 9, but now set for 12ish?
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