Testing, Testing 1, 2, 3, 4, 5K

This weekend was pretty good. Saturday, K-dog and I spent the day at the Pet Expo with our training group doing drill team demonstrations. It went fairly well, all the dogs hit their stays and recalls, and people were duly impressed. It was, however, a very long day. I had packed snacks thinking I could get through the day with oatmeal in the morning and healthy snacks throughout the day, so that I could enjoy our traditional celebratory meal at Texas Roadhouse afterward. Except that I misjudged, and I ate all my snacks before lunch, so was ravenously hungry at Texas Roadhouse and we all know what that means. But it was a lot of fun being out with the gang, so I’ll take it.

Sunday I got to sleep in, which was AMAZING. In fact I got up, made and ate oatmeal, then went back to bed. But at around 11am I called bestie to see where we were doing our run that day. The plan was to try to find an actual track to run on. The C25K plan is great, but it measures your progress by time not distance. And now that we are officially registered for this race, which will not be run on a treadmill, we figured we needed to see how our pace came through over the 3.1 miles in the real world. The most accurate way to gauge that, we thought, would be to run on a 1/4 track.

Tried the high school track–LOCKED. Tried the Junior High track–LOCKED. What? Don’t these people trust us?? Then we remembered a paved loop not too far away, but we weren’t sure of the distance, or if it were marked.

When we got to the park there was a small sign that said “Trail Distance 2512 feet.” You should have seen us smarties trying to figure that one out. But we decided that 6 laps and change would cover it.  We did not plan to try to run the whole 3 miles, since we still have 3 weeks of C25K to go, and didn’t want to screw that up. But we wanted to see if we could run/walk it in about 50 minutes, knowing we’ll shave a good amount of time off that by the end of the program.

Things we didn’t factor into our plans:

  1. Someone across the road burning a barrel of leaves. Who knew that would make breathing well in that section of the path nigh on impossible?
  2. Other people. Walkers, fine, joggers, fine. But why, father and son team, are you playing catch ON THE TRAIL when there are whole fields for you to play on. Seriously?
  3. Me being completely tired out from Saturday.

Now, don’t get me wrong, we did complete the 3 miles within our designated amount of time or thereabouts. But, guys….it was HARD. We walked a lap, then ran two, after that, we couldn’t make two laps running anymore and went on to the every other lap plan. We did consider it a successful outing for where we are in the program, but it definitely wasn’t pretty.

It’s weird how much of a mental game running is. For instance, I feel like running in a loop where I could see all of what I’d run, what I had to run, and how many laps were left was a lot harder than just running on the road and waiting for the beep to tell me when to start and stop. Knowing that I could stop “just at that sign” Made me feel like I could not possibly run a step further than that sign. But I probably could have.

Trail Sign(source)

Things we learned for 5K

  1. Need sunglasses
  2. Need snot rag of some form
  3. This is not impossible.

Do you have any tips for my first race?

Tales of Trauma from the Treadmill

It is a rare occurrence, a morning like this. My alarm goes off at 5am and I. Am. Ready. I am ready to hit the gym, ready for the day. It is going to be a good day, I just know it.

I throw my feet over the side of the bed and reach for my workout clothes. I efficiently perform the bodily contortion known as “putting on a sports bra.” Speedily I don the rest of my gym wear, grab my water bottle and head out. (picture source)

Bestie and I walk in to the gym together. It is like one of those movie scenes where the cool group walks in slo-mo. We should be in slo-mo. We have arrived.

Just thinking of all those people still snoozing makes me feel even more superior as we place our water in the holders on the treadmill and get situated.

Earbuds in, music up, C25K app on. I’m in the groove now and everyone wants to be me. Look at me running, look at my stride, my even breathing. I turn to the side to say something to bestie about what was on the TV.

SCREEEEEEEEEETCH

The side of my sneaker slides off the belt of the treadmill. Half on and half off, it literally makes that noise when a needle slides across the record and all the action stops, while I gasp and grab clumsily for a handhold. BOOM BOOM BOOM my feet clunk as I try to catch my balance and my stride again. Passerbys stare.

The rest of the day I am back to my usual non-cool, non-superior-feeling non-slo-mo self.

Hills and Valleys

This weekend was discouraging. Well, not all of it, but most especially Sunday afternoon. It was a gorgeous day and Bestie and I had planned to do our Week 6 Day 1 of Couch to 5K outside on a local paved trail. I brought the dog, which I knew might be a little rough. He can be very good, but it’s been a while since I jogged with him and it’s hard for an active dog to stay at heel on that pace and for that long without wanting to sniff here and there (which means he crosses in front of me, which means I have to try not to bite it by tripping over him) . . .but I was ready and expecting that.

(Disclaimer: this pic is not from Sunday’s run, it was much too warm
to be wearing his Christmas sweater)

We hit the paved trail and started the 5 minute warm up walk. I made the mistake of saying to Bestie “Oh, it’s intervals today, it’ll feel like cake compared to our last run,” which was the first big 20 minute run. It didn’t feel like cake. It felt like something much heavier. It felt like I was dragging a ball and chain and running up a vertical incline. I felt weak, my feet hurt. I was breathing harder. I could tell that I wasn’t picking up my feet as well because I would scrape the bottom of my sneaker when we hit a rut or a small elevation change. Now this wasn’t a completely flat course, but I wouldn’t have classified it as a hilly one either. I was ashamed at the relief I felt when we had to stop for a minute during a run so Kasey could. . .take care of some business.

I did the entire workout. I did the entire workout at a snail’s pace, but I did it.

My first go around of Couch to 5K was the winter that mom broke her feet. I was on about week 5 when it happened, I think. That time I had no treadmill available. All of my running was done out in the cold on not-always-flat terrain. I wasn’t much further along then than I am now.

I was very discouraged at how hard running outside on a gorgeous day felt. Previously I would have said I was <this> close to being ready to run that 5K. Now? I don’t know. It made me feel kind of crappy. I ran Week 6 Day 2 on the treadmill this morning, still intervals, longer. My right shin was acting up. I probably shouldn’t have run 2 days in a row, but it seemed a better option to my muscles than lifting 2 days in a row (since we ran AND lifted yesterday). But ugh! Every step was a fight, every minute was 3 minutes long. Even Ke$ha didn’t make this run any better. My body was rebelling, every time I walked my shin was fine, every time I ran, the damn thing burned like fire.

I am far from giving up. But the finish line of that 5K looks farther in the distance to me today than it did on Friday.

P.S.  Note to Self: Do not allow yourself to be given a box of Spicy Buffallo Wheat Thins on a Friday night, because you will consume the entire box all by yourself by Sunday evening. This is not a win. (Wednesday Weigh-in here we come!)

P.P.S My new running sneakers came today, so here’s hoping the shin problems will fade again.

What do you do when you are feeling discouraged or have a setback?
For the runners: Was it supposed to be that much harder to run outside?