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Around The Bay 30K: Training Week 1

runningshoes Monday

Today was supposed to be a rest day, but I figured that since the weather forecast was calling for minus a gazillion degrees on Tuesday, I would run on Monday anyway. With the roads being impossible to run on, I gritted my teeth and headed for the gym for what was supposed to be a 6K tempo run. I only managed 5K: I had not run for an entire month, and I was getting over a cold. I wasn’t all broke up about the lost kilometre. In the grand scheme of things it’s really not going to matter. What’s more important is that I ran.

What I was supposed to do: Rest
What I did: 5K in 30:21
How I felt: Like I’d been kicked in the rear-end by a pissed-off buffalo

 

Tuesday

Today Environment Canada warned that anyone going outside could start to feel the effects of hypothermia within ten minutes. We didn’t even send the kids to school, partly because the school buses were canceled. Fortunately I did today’s run yesterday – not only was it impossible to run outside, it wasn’t even possible to navigate the icy roads in order to get to the gym.

What I was supposed to do: 6K tempo run
What I did: Rest
How I felt: Cold – even the central heating wasn’t enough to ward off the chill

 

Wednesday

I hate days like this. Things were more normal – the kids went to school and we ventured out of the house – but all of this staying indoors because of the weather has thrown off my schedule. Being holed up in the house has made me run short of groceries and fall behind on errands, so I didn’t have time to go to the gym today. Boo-hiss.

What I was supposed to do: Stationary bike and weights
What I did: Sweet eff-all. At least where exercise is concerned
How I felt: Guilty. Probably a throwback to my Catholic school education.

 

Thursday

I was frantically busy today. My son’s birthday party is on Saturday, and as usual I have left everything to the 99th hour. By now I was supposed to have everything purchased and the cake made and ready for icing. I haven’t bought a single thing, including the cake ingredients. But my training runs are not going to do themselves, so I forced myself to include a trip to the gym in my jam-packed day. Another run on the treadmill – there is still too much ice to be safe, and I am kind of partial to having all of my bones intact.

What I was supposed to do: 5K easy run
What I did: 5K run on the treadmill – quite an intense one
How I felt: Much better, although my calf muscles felt appropriately tight after the workout.

 

Friday

Today’s trip to the gym wasn’t going to happen, not with this birthday party tomorrow. I made the cake, assembled gift bags, organized prizes, bought a pinata. I told myself that I would find time for my workout, but that was never a realistic prospect.

What I was supposed to do: Treadmill warmup and weights
What I did: Nothing exercise-related, unless you count running around like a chicken without a head.
How I felt: A little panicky. Missing workouts does that to me.

 

Saturday

Designated rest day today, although since I missed yesterday’s workout, that doesn’t really mean anything. Hosting a tribe of hyperactive eight-year-olds feels like the most exhausting workout in the world, though. It was a bloody marvelous day that I will write about later in the week.

What I was supposed to do: Rest
What I did: I didn’t exercise, but I definitely didn’t rest
How I felt: Exhausted

 

Sunday

Yesterday was a lot warmer. The temperature managed to claw its way up to plus seven degrees Celsius. I had high hopes that this would thaw the ice enough to allow an outdoor run, but that wasn’t to be. A lot of the ice did melt, but there was so much to begin with that there are still sheets of it all over the place. If anything, an outdoor run is even more impossible: now I would be combining skating with puddle jumping – not a good combination. I had no choice but to head to the gym again, and to grit my teeth for 14K on the treadmill. That is a long time to spend on a lab rat machine, and I came very close to giving up several times after I hit the 10K mark. But by breaking it up into tiny little chunks, I got through it. This was an excellent test of my mental strength.

What I was supposed to do: 14K
What I did: 14.37K in ninety minutes
How I felt: The fact that I actually saw this run through to completion made me feel awesome. So Week One is in the bag. I missed a couple of workouts but I got in all of my scheduled runs. Hopefully Week Two will see some outdoor action.

This is an original post by Kirsten Doyle. Photo credit to the author.

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Race Report: Angus Glen Ten-Miler

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I had a tough choice for  today’s blog post. On the one hand, today’s prompt for the Health Activist Writers Month Challenge calls for poetry. On the other hand, I have not yet written a race report for last weekend’s race.

My attempts at writing poetry are painful. So was last weekend’s race.

See? Tough choice.

In the end, I decided that in writing poetry, I’d be inflicting pain on those who I expect to read it. Whereas, if I write the race report, others can simply laugh at my pain without actually experiencing it.

There were a lot of challenges going into last weekend’s race, not the least of which was the fact that I was undertrained. There were other factors counting against me as well, like the weather, the fact that this race was on a golf course riddled with hills, and the fact that I was expecting myself to run 16km on my least favourite day of the month. I’ll spare you the details, but on certain days, some women experience what I will euphemistically call “discomfort” while running.

I was determined to do it, though. For one thing, I already had to blow off a race not long ago because of an injury. And for another thing, the Angus Glen Ten-Miler is one of the more expensive races. If I was going to pay a lofty registration fee, I might as well have the pain to show for it at the end.

And so I stood at the start line with absolutely no goal other than to finish. I placed myself in the last corral, because let’s face it, I wasn’t going to be a speed demon. As I waited for race to start, I did what I often do at start lines: I looked around trying to spot people who looked like they might be in worse shape than me. Not very sportsmanlike, I know, but some days, we all take what we can get to make ourselves feel less bad.

The race started, and the first couple of kilometres came and went without incident. I set out at a reasonable pace and loosened up nicely. Fortunately, the rain abated, and I was able to enjoy about ten minutes of quite nice running conditions before the wind showed up and kept me company for the rest of the run.

Along with the wind came the hills. I had known that there would be hills on this course, and I had done what I thought was adequate hill training, but nothing could have prepared me for that elevation profile. The uphills and downhills alike were brutal, and by the time I reached the halfway point, my quads were absolutely shredded.

Just as I started to question whether I would be able to finish this race, I encountered a line of Porta-potties. I never ever make pitstops during races. They are races, after all, and the whole point of racing is to get the finish line as fast as possible. This time, though, I knew that I was not going to come close to a personal best. There seemed little point in adding the discomfort of a full bladder to my already long list of woes. So I went in, did what I had to, and resumed the run feeling just as sore, but at least a little more comfortable.

The second half of the race was just plain ugly, but strangely enough I felt that I was accomplishing something really fantastic. This feeling came from the fact that I was going purely on mental strength. This was unquestionably a case of mind over matter, and come hell or high water, my mind was going to win.

After what felt like an eternity, I found myself with 500m to go. I had long since resigned myself to the fact that the finishing kick I pride myself on would not happen, but I had been wrong! As my body started to pick up on the finish line excitement ahead of me, I felt that familiar surge of energy that always happens at the end of a race. Lord alone knows where that energy came from, but it coursed through my legs, and I sprinted across the finish line.

Technically, this was my worst-ever ten-miler. But I still feel that this was one of my greatest races. If I can run ten miles without adequate training on an exceptionally hilly course with high winds, while not feeling well, then I can do anything. I have this strange sense that this race has set me up for a phenomenal season, more so than a personal best time would have. Because this race was a true test of mental endurance, and in crossing the finish line, I passed the test.

At the end of the day, the race was well worth the high registration fee. The swag was really good. The race kit included some very nice things, and instead of getting yet another ill-fitting technical T-shirt, I got a very nice fleece-lined running jacket. I also like the finisher’s medal a lot (and this one will count as one of my favourites because of how hard I worked for it), and a full sit-down lunch was provided at the end.

I might run this race again. In fact, I’m pretty sure I will. I have a new nemesis, and I am determined to conquer it.

(Photo credit: Kirsten Doyle)