Quit Your Bellyachin’

The other day, I wrote about how my stomach was upset during my run.  Since then, it’s been running hot and cold.  Pepto helps but doesn’t solve the problem.  I’ve essentially narrowed down the culprit to the Augmentin my doctor put me on.  Couple that with the sinus infection that still hasn’t gone away (read: runny nose, sinus pain and pressure), and I’m a hot mess.

Fortunately, I thought I had turned a corner.  Yesterday I spent the day at home, relaxing and making a delicious dinner of roast pork, brown rice, and broccoli that I actually really enjoyed (meaning I could eat it and keep it down).  I went to bed early and woke up feeling rested and a little nervous; after all, today’s run was 20 miles.  You probably remember the last 20 miler we had (for which I was also sick) where I only ran about 14.  But hearing Christopher McDougall talk really helped me feel better about my training, so I was actually looking forward to today’s run.

My stomach, though, felt differently.

We met at our normal meeting spot, got our race packets, and headed out.  We ran our first mile in silence as a tribute to the people we were running for, but also as a way for us to think about how far we’ve come in the months we’ve been training together.  We continued up Kelly Drive, stopping at the Falls Bridge to get some water, and then continuing to Ridge Avenue, where we turned around and headed back to the Bridge.  This was a total of almost six miles, and I was feeling OK.  My legs and feet felt fine, but my stomach was a different story.   After getting some water, we headed over the Falls Bridge to Martin Luther King Drive, and that’s when the pyrotechnics started.  I spent the next 4 or so miles alternating between running, walking, throwing up, and dry heaving. Everyone else had run ahead of me, and MLK Drive is always kind of empty, so I was all by myself sans iPod.  And to make matters worse, I was so thirsty but the jerks who run the city decided to dismantle the water fountains, so I ran almost five miles without any kind of liquid refreshment.  Suffice it to say that those last four miles were the loneliest, most frustrating miles.  I knew I wasn’t going to make it another ten, so I called it a day.

Upon my return, I spoke to one of the coaches who suggested I email Brian, the head running coach, since I haven’t made it to 20 miles yet.  I was thinking that I might be able to fit in 20 on Wednesday, but that might be cutting it close–the marathon is two weeks from today!  I sent Brian an email a little while ago, but he’s running a marathon today, so I’m not sure when I’ll hear back from him.  I’m also biding my time because I need to call my doctor tomorrow morning.  I’ve been on this stupid antibiotic for a week now and I still have all kinds of pressure and I’m literally sick to my stomach.  My pharmacist(s) think she’ll prescribe something else.  For the sake of my stomach and my sinuses, I hope she does.  I need this cleared up ASAP so I can focus on my training.

The weird thing about today’s run is that while I am disappointed, I actually feel OK about the way things went.  Sure, I wanted to run 20, but guess what?  I ran 10 while my stomach was doing flips and back handsprings and standing back tucks.  Take my stomach out of the equation and I’m pretty sure I could have run farther.  Here’s hoping that this confidence continues and my doctor comes through!

Born To Run

I just started reading Christopher McDougall’s novel Born To Run when I got word that he would be appearing at the Treddyfrin Public Library.  Even though I was only about fifty pages in, I decided I’d make the trek out to the Main Line to hear him speak.

And, boy, am I glad I did!

Here’s some background on the book: the author, Christopher McDougall, is a runner plagued by injury.  His doctors advise him to give it up, which he does (sort of).  While traveling for a story he’s writing, he learns about the Tarahumara, a tribe of people living deep in the canyons of Mexico.  This tribe lives very primitively, much like people did thousands of years ago,  have no history of cancer or heart disease and can easily run distances of 50+ miles without the latest footwear, energy gels, moisture-wicking clothes, or heart rate monitors. The biggest difference, though, between runners like me and runners like them is simple–they enjoy running.  Yep.  They have fun.

I told my friend Brian this and he said that the idea of running being fun is insane.  “The only fun part [of running] is beating your time or your distance.”  His mindset proves Chris’s point and reinforces what the Tarahumara have that we don’t.  At the lecture tonight, Chris talked about how when we’re little, no one could stop us.  All we do is run, and we have fun every second we can.  But at some point, things that used to be fun become work.  Think about it–we don’t play anymore; we work out.  As kids, we do so many things that are healthy based solely on our instincts, but as we grow, we lose sight of those things, and that’s why we get injured.

I think there’s a lot of credence in thinking that we stop listening to our instincts as we get older.  Kids know when to stop eating because they’re satisfied, but parents encourage them to eat more or they won’t get dessert, etc.  After awhile, kids stop listening to their bodies and do what their parents/friends/babysitters tell them.  Kids know when to stop playing and rest.  And kids know how to have fun.  When I started training, I was having fun, but I am definitely not having fun now.  Training has become a chore I have to do.  When I was little, I would go outside and play because I could.  Big difference there.

So my new goal is to get back into the mindset that running is fun.  Because you know what?  It is!  I love the feeling of freedom when I leave my house, when I get to be alone and I don’t have to worry about work, or annoying people, or bills, or a number of other things.  I love the feeling of going fast.  I love the feeling after I climb a big hill.  Heck, I love the feeling after a run, when my body thanks me for pushing it.  And Cole Hamels, if you’re reading this, you should remember that, too.  Baseball is fun.  So just chill, get out there, pitch the ball, and have fun!

Clearly, Chris’s lecture had an effect on me, and I really thought about what to say when I met him.  I stood in line for about fifteen minutes while he signed books and chatted with members of the audience.  I decided to come clean.  I told him I had just started the book today, but that hearing him talk made me feel so much better.  I told him that I was training for Philly, and that for the last two weeks, I’ve really been thinking that I can’t do this.  I had a bad run that I let get to me and now I’m not sure what I’m doing, but that all his talk about having fun really hit home.  I mean, it’s so simple!  Have fun!

In his talk, he said that according to the experts, you peak as a marathoner at age 27.  Legally, you can run your first marathon at age 19, and after your peak, you slowly decline until age 68.  That means that a 19 year old and a 68 year old run roughly the same speed!  Nuts!  I told him–tongue in cheek, mind you– it’s a shame I just learned that because I missed my peak.    He said, “Well, Kate, I have some bad news.  You’re not gonna win the marathon.”  Darn!  There go my hopes!  “But, you are gonna have fun.  Just calm down, relax, and have fun.  And if takes you seven hours, it takes you seven hours.  I mean, hey!  You still did it!”  In fact, he autographed the book as such:

To Kate–
Have a blast in Philly!  And when in doubt…relax!
Chris McDougall

And, if this wasn’t enough, The Universe has some tips in the same vein for me this week as well.  Today, it told me the following:

The thing that’s totally different between children and adults, Kate, is that children have the ability to spontaneously use their imagination to forget what’s bothering them and be inspired by every pony, feather, or bug that crosses their path.

Oh, yeah… you’re like that.

It’s easy,
The Universe

And two days ago, it told me:

Kate, if you think on it long enough, you’ll know.

You just will.

Works for me,
The Universe

So I’m going to head off to bed, hoping that Chris’s words will penetrate my subconscious and help me get out of my head.

Some Advice For Cole Hamels

Warning: Discussion of Bodily Functions Ahead

I wrote recently about Cole Hamels and his struggles this season.  I’m not going to pretend to know exactly what he’s going through.  I mean, he’s 25 years old, under enormous pressure to perform, and living in the shadow of the fantastic season he had last year.  What I do understand is the idea of living in your own head and being the only thing holding you back from success.  That’s how I’ve felt for about two weeks, and it’s horrible.  I can’t imagine feeling this way for months, which I’m sure he has.

So you know what I did today to combat my feelings of inadequacy and fear?  I put on my shoes and went for a run.  I set out to run anywhere between 4 and 8 miles, depending on how I felt.  Ever since that stupid cold I had a few weeks ago, I’ve had nagging sinus pain/headaches.  I went to the doctor and got an antibiotic, which hasn’t really kicked in yet.  But I decided I needed to get out there anyway, headache be darned.

I ran my normal route on Kelly Drive, wearing my new Race Ready Skirt (more on that to follow), looking at ominous skies.  About a quarter mile into my run, I immediately regretted not wearing a hat or visor, because that’s when the rain started.  It didn’t rain hard, but I was running right into it, which isn’t fun.   But I felt OK, except for my full bladder and iffy stomach.  I stopped about 2.25 miles in to use the port-o-potty.

Now, we all know how disgusting port-o-potties are, so my goal was to get in and out quickly.  I accomplished that, but as I left, my stomach went from iffy to definite.  I had a decision to make–throw up inside the port-o-potty (ew ew ew!) or in the trash can (ew ew ew!).  I opted for the port-o-potty.  Stupid runny nose and stupid antibiotics have been making my stomach flip and turn.

I had the distinct feeling that my stomach wasn’t done, so I had a decision to make–walk home or run home?  Walking might be a little easier on my stomach, but running would get me home sooner.

I opted for running.

My run back was uneventful, and I promptly downed some Pepto.  To be honest, my stomach isn’t totally right, but it’s feeling better.  I’m hoping it gets much better in the next hour, because I want to go see Christopher McDougall speak.  I just started reading his book Born to Run and am fascinated by these distance runners he studies.  Veggie soup and bread, here I come!

Anyway, my advice for Cole Hamels is simple: relax.  Spend your offeason with your baby and wife, but don’t neglect your workouts.  And stop thinking about what you’re doing so much and just pitch.  I know it’s easier said than done, but if I can get out of my head for a little bit, I’m sure you can, too.  Just chill, dude.  You got this.

Oh, and the skirt is AWESOME!  I carried my phone, my keys, and a GU with me and I wasn’t worried about losing anything.  It did take me a little bit (maybe a mile?) to get used to the extra weight around my waist, but I can’t say enough good things about my skirt!

This Is How Cole Hamels Must Feel

Let’s harken back to a simpler time: October of 2008.  The Phillies won the World Series, due mainly in part to the mastery of Cole Hamels.  In his five postseason starts, Cole went 4-0 with a 1.80 ERA.  He was named World Series MVP (after also winning the MVP in the NLCS), and Philadelphia embraced the flip flop wearing, highlight getting, downward facing dog-ging guy.

But now it’s November of 2009, and things are completely different.  Cole struggled a lot this year, going 10-11 with with a 4.32 ERA.  In the postseason, he became the number two (or three) starter, and for good reason: his record is 1-2 and his ERA is a whopping 7.58.  In fact, CBSsports.com is reporting that Cole “can’t wait for it to end.”

I realize this isn’t a Phillies blog, but my point is very simple: Cole has lost his confidence.  In every start he’s made in the postseason, he has been really good for a few innings, but then he allows a bad call or a hit to get to him, and he falters.  Last year, he wanted the ball in every tight spot.  This year, he has been tentative, unsure, and even willing to give up the ball and let someone else come in.

It dawned on me this morning that Cole and I aren’t so different.  Sure, I’m not married to a former Playmate, I don’t have a changeup that, when it’s on, is sick, and I didn’t name my first child Caleb, but I, too, have lost my confidence.  I feel like I haven’t played well at a Frisbee game since Sectionals back in September.  I’m not sure what I’m doing out there.  And that’s how I feel about marathon training.  Last week’s run really got into my head and I am completely doubting my ability to finish this marathon.  I tried to do an easy five miler on Thursday but my calf was bothering me.  Work has been keeping me from running regularly.

I think what I need is a kick in the butt, so feel free to leave me some comments telling me to stop being a baby.

Disappointed

Actually, to say I was “disappointed” with today’s run would be an understatement.

Let me start by saying that I acknowledge that a cold isn’t the worst thing in the world.  I mean, obviously.   But the worst part about them is that they just make you feel like you can’t get out of bed but that you really have no place to be in bed so you have to get up and go to work and act like a productive member of society.  Sneaky little suckers.

So I started feeling the cold on Wednesday.  I drank lots of water, took lots of vitamin C, and rested.  Last night, I even indulged in a little Nyquil, but I still woke up this morning feeling congested and having a hard time breathing.  Coupled with that is the email I got from my running coach, Brian, earlier this week that said he didn’t want us running for more than four hours because it would impede our ability to recover and go on our scheduled runs this week.  I finished 18 miles in 4:04 so I was going into this run already feeling defeated, which I know is silly, but I couldn’t help.

We met at 8 a.m. (yay!) at Valley Forge (boo!).  We were supposed to run one hilly 5 mile loop, 10 flat miles, and one more 5 mile hilly loop.  I knew I wasn’t going to make it on account of the cold and the time limit, so I made my goal to finish 15 miles.

Well, that didn’t work.  I was having problems breathing (duh), I was blowing my nose every few miles, and my sinuses were killing me.   I felt OK from my waist down but I knew I wasn’t going to pull it out.  I turned around before I got out to no man’s land and finished the run by myself, feeling defeated.  I talked to Brian before I got back to the beginning and he told me to take it easy, to drink a lot of fluids, and that I’ll have another shot and getting in the 20.

Unfortunately, this run has really left me questioning my ability to run the marathon.  Maybe I’m just not a marathoner.  I really enjoyed the first 12 miles of the run but the last 1-2 were really difficult.  Maybe I should try to run more halfs and give up on this pipe dream of a whole marathon.  I mean, obviously I’m going to do my best with this one, but maybe this will be my first and last marathon.  Runner’s World had a quiz about a year ago to help you figure out what kind of race suits you best.  I was right on the edge between a half and a full.

I don’t know.  Maybe this isn’t my destiny.

I’m Alive, I Assure You

You might be wondering where I’ve been for the past week or so.  Well, work has been keeping me busy and unfortunately, been keeping me from running.  Last Thursday, my friends and I went out to watch Game 1 of the NLCS which ended in a Phils win on my birthday.  Woo!

I was supposed to run 12 miles on Saturday morning, but I completely overslept.  I’m pretty sure I heard my alarm go off, but I guess I hit off instead of snooze because I woke up really confused (and with a really full bladder) at about 9:30.  I hadn’t slept that long or that late in some time, so I guess my body really was telling me something.  I decided to get my run in on Monday instead, and my plan was to tackle the hills at Valley Forge.  That kinda worked; I ran 5 really hilly miles instead of 12 flat ones.  That’s probably not good, but it’s still something.

I definitely have some kind of cold/congestion issue going on, which is making sleeping harder than it should be.  My plan right now is to hydrate, take some vitamin C, and rest because I’m trying to prepare myself mentally and physically for Sunday’s 20 miler in Valley Forge.  Yikes!

Oh, and in case you hadn’t heard, the Phils won the National League last night and are off to their second consecutive World Series.  One blogger commenter summed up my feelings really well:

“You follow sports hoping that one day you’ll be rewarded and get to root for a team like these Phillies.”

Still Recovering

I was still kinda sore yesterday from Sunday’s long run.  I thought about running, but decided against it.  Instead, I was invited to watch the Phillies game at a friend’s house.  He happens to live a mile away from me, so I walked there and back.  I honestly thought about driving but decided against it, thinking that my legs needed the exercise.

And the walk really did me a lot of good.

And guess what else?  The Phillies won.  In the top of the 9th.  With two outs.  God, I love this team.  And if you want a picture to cheer you up, go here.  It cracks me up.

I took today off, though I was a lot more active during the day than I have been.  Tomorrow night is Frisbee and Thursday remains to be seen.  Playoff baseball may interfere with my training…

Just Keep Swimming

Clearly I’ve been MIA for a little while.  Last week’s tournament was fun but exhausting, and this week has been kind of busy, what with Phillies playoff action and all.  But that’s another blog altogether.

My chiropractor pointed out to me this week that the marathon is just six weeks away.  It’s really time to buckle down now and get myself together.  Yesterday, I did my best to get my eating back under control.  I made myself some really healthy pasta and vegetarian chili and I’m trying to avoid caloric beverages and sweets (though that’s always pretty hard, to be honest).  Yesterday, I spent the day relaxing in my apartment, cooking, catching up on TV I missed (gotta love Hulu), and resting up for today’s 18 miler.

I set my alarm for 5:30, but I don’t know how much I slept.  Once again, I was nervous about the run–both the time (would I oversleep?) and the length (18?  Yikes!).  Before I got out of bed, I visualized myself completing the run successfully and pain free (ha!).  I made myself some peanut butter toast, drank some water, and headed out.

This week’s was once again at Forbidden Drive, which is definitely my favorite place to run.  Yesterday, I went to my running store to buy GU and I got to talking with one of the employees (who are all runners, which I think is awesome).  He told me that the biggest problem he encountered when he ran his marathon is going out too fast.  I kept this in the back of my mind as I set out today, knowing I’d be running for about four hours.  In fact, Brian, our head running coach, told us not to run for over 4 hours because we’d be doing our bodies more harm than good.  (We ran in 4:04, for the record.)

My new mental trick to break down the run into smaller, more mangeable increments.  I normally try to tackle a few miles at a time and I trick myself into thinking that it’s “only another 3 miles.”  I mean, I can run 3 miles under normal circumstances.  Using my mental trick, the first 12 miles were pretty much pain free.  But somewhere between miles 12 and 13 I could feel the pain creeping in.  My piriformis was starting to hurt and, surprisingly, my ankles were hurting a little as well.  Plus, the blisters on the insides of my feet were coming back.  However, wWhen we got to the water stop 13 miles in, my friend Amy pointed out that we had just run a half marathon.  I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.  I was feeling OK and thought the next five miles would be pretty easy.

Um.

“Easy” definitely wasn’t the best word.  Miles 14 and 15 weren’t bad.  Amy and I talked about books and authors, so that was interesting and kept my mind off the pain I was feeling.  However, miles 16-18 were really rough.  Amy and I were running by ourselves (our friends had run ahead) and I literally could not think coherently.  I knew that talking about something–ANYTHING–would have made those miles pass by faster, but my brain could not put any thoughts together.  I looked for familiar landmarks–the bridge telling us we had a mile, the street telling us we had a half mile, the last little hill we run up before we get back to the gazebo–and kept saying things like, “Ok, we can do this” and/or “Just keep swimming!” Sure enough, we came over the crest of the hill and saw the gazebo, and I literally almost cried.  I drank some water, “stretched”, and sent a bunch of my friends a text message that said, “That run kicked my sorry butt.  I am seriously doubting my ability to make it up to my apartment.  Please check in to make sure I’m alive.”  I knew it was a little dramatic, but I could barely move when I finished.

I borrowed some money off my fabulous best friend and stopped at the store to buy my bag of ice, breakfast sandwich, and bottle of chocolate milk.  The ice bath was pretty much just how I remembered it, and the subsequent shower felt really good.  So now I’m sitting on my couch in my pajamas, rehydrating and watching the Eagles.   It feels like a pretty successful day!

In other news, some of my friends are thinking about getting tattoos after the marathon.  Actually, I’m pretty sure they’ve moved from “thinking about” to “getting” and they asked me to join them.  I am not a tattoo person, but I have recently been thinking about one.  Amy said she wants to get something that will remind her that if she puts her mind to it, she can do anything.  I really like that philosophy and am open to any suggestions you have, loyal reader.

A Week Off and A Long Weekend

I decided to take it easy this week because of this nagging lower back pain.  I had a game on Wednesday night that ended up getting canceled (long story) and I took it easy at last night’s practice.

This weekend, my team will be playing at Regionals.  Yay!  We’re leaving tonight around 5:30 and we have four games tomorrow with the possibililty of three on Sunday.  We only have 12 people going, so I should be getting a lot of playing time, which means that I probably won’t run my 12 miles.   But I think it will all even out.

If you’d like to keep track of how my team does on Regionals, you can follow us on Twitter.  If you’d like to learn more about our team, visit our team’s website.

Last Night’s Dream

Last night, I dreamt about the marathon for the first time, which, quite frankly, is a little surprising.  I’m sure it’s the first of many, and hopefully the others will be as easy to figure out as this one.

The Dream: I ran the marathon.  It took me much longer than I had planned (over 5 hours!), but I had no pain.  Coincidentally, it finished at my house.  And by “my house,” I mean the one I grew up in but moved out of in 1996. For the record, the marathon does no where close to that neighborhood.   The only other person I saw running the marathon was someone named Liz who coordinated our last Frisbee tournament.  She finished well ahead of me.

When I arrived home, I found my mom and sister arguing in the kitchen.  It then dawned on me that I had run the entire marathon without seeing any of my friends or family there to support me, which really hurt.  I mean, I’m not running the marathon for accolades, but I expected someone to come cheer for me.  I asked them where they were, and they said that they didn’t realize the marathon was that day.  Maybe I gave them the wrong day?  I got really angry and told them of course it was today!  I’ve been talking about it for months!  Then I realized that no one had been cheering my name AT ALL (my plan in real life is to write my name in duct tape on my purple TNT pinny), and I looked down to realize I wasn’t wearing th purple pinny.  I was really confused, and Bridget and my mom were looking at me like I had about ten heads.

And then I woke up.

The Meaning: I’m not one of those people who thinks every dream means something, but I do believe that sometimes, dreams are your mind’s way of telling you something.  And I think this one is telling me that as much as I keep telling people that they don’t have to worry about coming out to watch, there is a part of me that really wants friends and family there to cheer me on.  Part of me thinks that’s really selfish–I’m not running this marathon to have people cheer.  But at the same time, it would be nice…

Well, I’m not really gonna worry myself with that.  I’m going to stretch, eat well, and train hard.  I’m going to raise money for a good cause.  I’m going to focus on completing the marathon.  But, if you live in or around Philly and you’re not doing anything on November 22nd, you’ll know where to find me.