D-Day

Hello friends!  I have been so lazy lately and have not posted in quite some time.  So many things going on in my life! 

Since my last post, lots of training walks have happened and a little thing called the half marathon has come and gone.  I'm happy to say that I survived it!  Which is pretty much a miracle given that the entire week before I was battling a sinus infection, upper respiratory infection and allergies.  I am not ashamed to admit that I was absolutely terrified at the start line.  There were people EVERYWHERE!  And, honestly, I had no idea what race I was going to be doing when we started.  I knew that if I was feeling crummy I could split at mile 1 and only do a 5K or split at mile 3 and do the quarter marathon.  Somehow I found myself with a pace group that was 10 minutes better than my goal time and I was able to hang with them for the first 3 miles.  So, when I hit the split, I had my best time EVER and was feeling pretty fantastic.  I made the decision to just go for it!  I finished at 3:32:16, which I am very happy with overall!  My goal was 3:30:00, so I was only slightly off (which I blame on my potty break) and think it's a fantastic accomplishment given the fact that the evening before I could barely lift my head off the bed without getting nauseous.  I also should tell you what an amazing play list composer I am.  My music was spot on for keeping me energized and moving and I ended up only being one song short on my play list.  Never underestimate the power of some silly teenie-bopper song or sexy Adam Levine to keep your butt moving! 

Now, we're just a bit over 2 days shy of the full marathon.  <Insert music to signify my upcoming dread and fear here>  I now have all of these feelings of doubt running through my head and thoughts of how I could have probably trained harder.  Lots of thoughts of how this was really a big, fat, dumb ole idea.  One very definitive thought of "I'm never doing this again."

I've had butterflies all week.  And nightmares.  Lots of nightmares.  Have you seen that car commercial where the girl walks through the empty parking lot, all sweaty and sunburned with her medal and bib on, and gets in the car (looking like she's in a lot of pain) and has the message from her mom saying "Congratulations Amy!  You did it!"?  Well, I'm having nightmares because I'm going to be that girl.  Sweaty.  Sunburned.  And even scarier is knowing the amount of pain that is going to be coming.  The panic that has been swirling around me all week has been overwhelming. 

But, really, it comes down to this.  I did train.  I actually trained pretty well.  Yeah, I didn't follow that dumb plan down to the letter, but what I can say without a doubt is that I have walked more over the past 5 months than I ever thought I could.  It's kind of weird to now think, "Oh, I need to go for a walk.  Uh.... I'll do 10 miles.  No biggie."  When 5 months ago a normal walk would've been one, maybe two miles.  Now, we can do 10 and still say, "Huh, I don't even think I'm exerting myself."  I may actually be in the best shape that I've been in the past 5 years. 

So, I've decided today that there's a new attitude.  No more dread.  No more fear.  No more panic.  We got this.  We're ready.  Yeah, it's scary.  But, lots of things are.  One of my new favorite quotes has become, "Do one thing everyday that scares you" (Eleanor Roosevelt).  When you combine that with my other favorite quote, "Nothing is impossible, the very word itself says, I'm Possible" (Audrey Hepburn), it's a motivational recipe for success.  So, I may be scared (terrified is probably a better choice of words actually) but I'm not going to let that fear get in my head.  Life is too short and you never know what is going to happen to cause it to change in an instant.  We have to do the things we dream of now, because it may be too late if we wait.  And, what I've come to learn is that it's so much sweeter when it's the things that frighten us most or the things that no one thinks we can do.  So, here we go....it's time to push our limits :) 

The Number of the Day....8.5

This past weekend we completed a grueling 20 miles for our long training walk.

GRUELING.

Really grueling. It took me this long to be able to talk about it.

This walk proved that completing a marathon is more mental than physical. Even though physically I was in pretty bad shape and sore, mentally I was beaten and bruised.

It takes a really long time to walk 20 miles.

I'm not even sure how to recap this one. We walked for over 7 hours. I'm not sure if I've just forgotten what happened or if I blocked it from memory. Here's what I do recall...

Super cute Itzy Ritzy bags. BLS packed enough supplies to get us through days of walking. All of the supplies were organized into these very fashionable (& functional) bags.

Blisters. Lots of them. Thank goodness not on my tootsie, put poor BLS had (has)blisters on top of blisters, new blisters forming (& popping) and enough KT tape to fix a high school cross country team.

We LOVE KT tape. If I could swaddle my body in it, I would.

8.5 Miles. Why do I remember this? Well, only because we easily saw at least 5 different signs telling us that we had reached 8 or 8.5 miles. $#*@&%?!?!?!?!? It was our version of Groundhog's Day. Seriously. So confusing.

Peeing in the woods. Again. I've peed in the woods more since starting training for this marathon than I have in the past 20 years. With the exception of the multiple 8.5 Mile Markers and lack of bathrooms, I actually love the Sippo Trail. But really parks people, if you are going to have a 10 mile long trail you should really place some bathrooms besides just at the start or finish. Or at least unlock the ones you have.

Hot Dogs. I became infatuated with hot dogs at mile 8.5 (The first one). Someone was burning something and it smelled like summer and camping. Hot dogs popped in my head and remained there the rest of the day. I had 2 post walk. They were delicious.

Severe pain. With about 3.5 miles to go my right calf started cramping and I felt like I was going to throw up. In hindsight, the 2 liter hydration pack of water is an awesome asset. A bit of Gatorade would be better.

Exploding ice packs. BLS, also in severe pain, tried to pop the ice pack (it was in one of the Itzy Ritzys) to get it cold. She was either so tired or delirious that she couldn't get it to pop to turn cold. Nature Girl stomped on it (at BLS's request), but she was a little too forceful and exploded it all over Monica (from now on to only be refered to as "Elmers" ;-) LOL)! Who immediately turned into a salt-water stained mess. And because all of us were deliriously tired, we laughed like hyenas.

Almost wanting to cry. But, it would have taken too much energy and I didn't have any left.

But, we survived. There were no yay-we-did-it celebratory pictures at the end. I practically crawled to my car, hit DQ for my hot dogs, went home, took an ice bath, slathered up in icy hot, downed 2 bottles of Gatorade, 2 bottles of water and never left the couch for the rest of the day.

I actually didn't feel too horrible the next day except for a chafing issue and severe shooting pains on the top of my right foot. So, we'll call that a success. Luckily this week is a "short" walk. Which means anything less than 10 miles these days.

44 Days 20 Hours 55 Minutes 15 Seconds......

The Real "Me"

I was driving the other day and thinking about what the heck I was going to blog about next.  I feel like I’m running out of funny.  I decided I wanted to do a shout out to the amazing women that are doing the marathon with me.  They are all strong, awesome women who have busy lives with better things to do than spend 5+ hours of every weekend listening to me whine about how tired I am of walking.  But, they’re there every weekend for the long training walks and chugging out miles throughout the week, sacrificing time with kids, family and doing other things that would be a heck of a lot more fun. 

So, that is what I planned to write about, but then I read something the other day that got me all offended.  It was an advertisement for some running shoes or something talking about how walkers were lowering the integrity of marathons.  That in the past, it was a race for elite athletes, but today, there are people walking marathons, taking 7+ hours to complete one making it not really a race anymore.  So, as a soon-to-be walker of a marathon, I thought it was a disrespectful little ad and it got thinking. 

I respect marathoners.  I think they’re crazy, but I respect them.  I have a whole lot more respect now than a few months ago, honestly.  I’m not a runner.  I’ll never be a runner.  Honestly, I don’t want to be a runner.  I’ll get out of their way so they can speed past me and not be offended at all that they’re lapping me.  I may be walking a marathon, but it doesn’t mean I have any less respect for anyone involved.  It’s not like I woke up 2 days beforehand was like, “Oh, there’s a marathon this weekend?  Sounds like fun, let’s go take a really long stroll.”  I’m training.  I’m logging the miles.  Maybe not as many as I should be, but I am taking it seriously.  I’ve definitely learned that about one-third of your training is physical and the rest is really a mental game.  It’s getting out of your own head and to the start line.  I feel like I get it.  So, stick it, offensive little ad from some stupid athletic company.   

While in my offended state, balancing my love for my co-walkers and my hatred for the advertising person who spit on walkers, I started doing a little reflection. 

First of all, why the heck was I so offended by this ad? 

What does this marathon really mean to me?

Why am I doing this?

Sure, it started out sort of just as a joke.  A checkmark on the bucket list.  A great way to lose weight.  The right to buy one of those awesome 26.2 stickers for ole Mitzi.  But, somewhere along the way it become a lot more than just a really long walk and became personal…

A lot of you know that the past two years have been a big personal struggle for me.   That struggle all stemming from one of those really bad breakups that just absolutely shake you to your core.  For me, that break up was the push over the edge into depression and a full blown struggle with anxiety.  Two weeks post breakup and my not eating, not sleeping and still crying finally pushed my poor loving mother over the edge.  She had finally had enough and drug me out of my bed to the doctor, the whole time while I was hysterically crying about how I didn’t want to go and that the doctor would think I was a crazy spaz (rightfully so).  To be fair, it wasn’t quite that dramatic, but my mother was the reason I finally went to the doctor.  So, I sat in the doctor’s office being an irrational, hysterical mess, barely able to form a comprehendible sentence, which made him decide, of course, that I should be medicated.  Honestly, can’t blame him.  Actually, I should probably thank him.  But, I’m not.  Because I read my chart a year later and got all offended by the notes of “hysteria” and other things that implied I was a blubbering fool. 

Anyways….. Welcome to my world a lovely little antidepressant that dried up the tears, calmed me down and added on 25 unwanted, unnecessary, ugly pounds.  After 4 months of a love/hate relationship with this little pill, I finally had regained enough control of my emotional health and sanity to be able to say goodbye to it. 

However, the entire time I was on it, I struggled with the stigma of being on an antidepressant.  How I had become one of those people who needed it.  Even though, I truly think those not on one are the rarity these days.  And this is in no way a slap to anyone on an antidepressant.  I know they’re necessary and very important.  I believe in them.  The stigma for me was a self induced one.  I had supportive people in my life telling me it was OK.   Honestly, half the people around me are on one.  But, for me, even though I knew I needed it, having to take it made me feel like I had lost. 

It’s hard to explain the feelings to the outside world.  I know I was silly and irrational, but when you’re faced with depression or anxiety, it’s so hard to get out of it.  I felt like I had lost control of my life.  I wasn’t as strong as I thought I was.  This wasn’t me, so why was I acting liking this?   Where was the strong, independent woman that I had been?  Where was the girl who bought a house on her own in her 20s?  Where was that woman who had the guts to walk into the office one day and quit her job because she was unhappy and wanted more?  I had lost that girl.  The girl who believed she could do anything.  That girl was confident and strong.  The girl I was raised to be by an amazing, strong, single mother.  I missed that girl.  I wanted to be that girl again and it felt like I never would be.  It didn’t matter that I knew I was wrong.  It didn’t matter that everyone close to me told me I was wrong.  It’s who I had become.  And it’s who I pretended not to be.  I slapped on a smile and pretended like I was OK because I was embarrassed to be weak.  I had to be the happy, smiling person that everyone expected me to be.  And that just made the pretense all that more exhausting and kept me from healing longer. 

So, here I am today.  It’s still an internal battle of balancing who I was before with who I became to the person I want to be.  But, the emptiness I once felt is gone.  Sure, I still have those bad days when something happens and all those doubts creep back in to shake my confidence.  But, it’s temporary.  And it’s normal.  Most importantly, I realized the other day when I was walking that I truly feel like “me” (whoever that is) again, for the first time in a very long time.  I’m not sure if it’s the old Carrie returning.  I’d like to think not.  I hope that it’s a newer more improved version.  One that can take the experience of knowing that emptiness and sadness and turn it into a positive.  One that is stronger, even more confident and amazing than I was before this journey began. 

And so as I sat down to think about it, I realized that this marathon has become a lot more than just a check on the bucket list or a sticker announcing to the world that I’m marathoner or a way to drop some pesky pounds.  It’s helping me to finally, truly heal.  It’s making me strong again.  And with each step closer to the finish line, I’m one step closer to becoming the “me” that I want to be. 

GU-Gone Mad

We had an absolutely lovely weekend here in Ohio. It was perfect for a loonnnnng, torturous suppose to be 14-mile, ended up being 15-mile walk.

We are moving right along with our training. This weekend our schedule said 14 miles. Due to a gap in the trail and a lovely little loop-around in the ghetto of Massillon we logged 15 total. It was much better than my original (incorrect) plan of walking what I thought would be somewhere between 15.5 - 16 miles. I missed a gap on the map that was a 2.6 break in the trail. Let me just say that if we didn't catch that and ended up walking almost 19 miles at least one of us would have been in tears and at least one more seriously injured. Luckily, the mistake was caught well in advance and our alternate 15 mile route was planned.

The walk started off well. I had my lovely new hydration pack that I just bought the day before (on sale!). Everyone was jealous of how snazzy I looked. And even more jealous when I was able to sip and walk without digging through a bag for my water bottle. Everyone should own one. They're snazzy. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. They're just jealous.

So, we were bee-bopping along fairly smoothly for the first half of the walk. Nothing too overly exciting happening. Apparently some shady character was following us for a while. I missed him. I was in the zone. Nature Guide Jen (there, someone else has a nickname now) was pointing out creatures to us. BLS was trash-talking the geese. Geese were spitting at BLS in response to her apparent disrespect towards them. Monica was trying to break her ankle. I was sipping water from my snazzy hydration pack. We had snack-time so we could try GU. Blackberry flavored. Ummmmm....not so GUd. Not horrible. But, not good. The Cliff Energy Block gummies were waaaay better. That's our personal endorsement. Take it for what it's worth.

I think all of us were feeling pretty good right up to mile 12.5. After that things went downhill quickly. That would be shortly after we saw the "Trail Ends in 3.12) sign. I became delirious with excitement that it was almost over and was convinced the car was "right around that bend." Had to be "at the bottom of the hill." Of course, it was "right around the corner." Can I just say that those last 2.5 miles felt like 6 miles. I started to worry that somehow we parked the car at the wrong place and we were going to get to the end of the trail and be stranded. Monica and I decided to jog the last bit to the car because we were so sure it was that close. Needless to say, it wasn't and we didn't last long with the jogging. We passed a lovely older couple out for an afternoon stroll and our response to their greeting was, "How far to the end?!?!?" Luckily, the car was parked at the correct trail head, we found it before I started to cry and anyone became seriously injured.

I did feel like I had went a little doggone mad by the end of this one though. It seriously kicked my arse. I had leg pain that I've never experienced. My hydration pack, as snazzy as it is, made my back hurt like crazy. Ankles were spraining, knees were clicking, blisters were forming and hips were aching. But, I'm proud to say that after walking for 4.5 hours, burning more calories than I've probably every burned in one afternoon and logging 15 miles that we finished fairly strong, in my opinion.

On the way back to the car, we popped pain pills, day-dreamed about narcotics, giggled in awe over how we traversed Massillon, Navarre and Bolivar and tried to contain our excitement over our pending ice baths.

Ice baths. The new, exciting part of my life that I look forward to.

61 Days, 14 Hours, 5 Minutes and 40 Seconds until Race Day.....

Fickle Girl

I keep getting these emails from the Cleveland Marathon with training tips to increase your speed, improve your pace, help you have the most successful race ever, reduce your chance of injury….You get the picture right? These are things that normal people training for a marathon worry about as they prep for the big day. I, on the other hand, am not normal. I am a fickle, fickle girl.

I worry about how much I am supposed to drink on race day. I mean, I’m not running, just walking. Absolutely NO running allowed as Bucket List Sam keeps reminding us. I’m not going to be sweating as much as the speed demons, so how much should I drink? I mean, it’s a valid concern. I need to know whether I should buy one of those little water belt thingies or not. I mean, on one hand I think it will make me looks so hard core. On the other, will people laugh at me and wonder why the silly walker girl needs that when she’s barely moving?

Also, I read something about how you’re not suppose to eat anything pre-race or during the race that you haven’t tried before so you know for sure how it will….uh, affect your body. Let’s be realistic here. One, I don’t need anything else slowing me down. I am my own biggest hindrance. Two, I am a chubby girl. Ima gonna needa snack. So, now I need a dress rehearsal with my food and beverage?

But, what’s at the top of my worry list? Wardrobe. You knew it was coming, right? Coach Angie thinks it’s hilarious that I tend to coordinate my workout gear right down to my shoelaces and ponytail holder. It’s true, it happens. Honestly, it’s actually pretty easy to do because I typically only buy my workout clothes from the very best store in the world (Target) and they seem to only ever have two colors – hot pink or aqua. So, I coordinate. Big deal.

But, we have very big wardrobe concerns when it comes to this race. Apparently, in addition to not ingesting anything into your body new on race day, you’re not suppose to wear anything new on your body on race day. One word – Chafing. Something you don’t want to happen. Which brings me to the question of the difference in walking vs. running – is this as big of a concern if I’m walking and not running? Remember BLS’s words – ABSOLUTELY, repeat after me, ABSOLUTELY NO RUNNING. Common sense tells us that we absolutely do not want chafing so now we’re really going to need a dress rehearsal, aren’t we? But, this isn’t just any dress rehearsal. This is NE Ohio. We need outfits for sun/heat, dreary rain and probably just to be safe….snow.

We also have to take this important fact into consideration…there is a hunky boy doing the same, fast course, half marathon. This adds such a level of concern to my already fickle worries. What if I don’t meet him until the race and he wants to meet post-race? What if I DO meet him and then he wants to wait for me at the finish line? Hunky is going to run a 2 minute mile on this awesomely fast course, while I on the other hand will be crawling across the finish line in something more like a 4 hour-ish time frame. I’m pretty sure that while my outfit will be insanely coordinated that I’m not going to be making the best first impression when I’m sweaty, red-faced, probably crying, crawling across the finish line. I told you. I’m a fickle girl.

Walka Walka Walka

Since I’m 2.5 months late in getting this blog started, I thought this week we’d start by getting you caught up on what you’ve missed.

I don’t think I mentioned in the previous post that besides just the marathon (insert a nervous little LOL at the thought of “just the marathon”), that I’ve also thrown a half marathon and marathon relay into the mix. Half marathon comes first (May 5). It’s a flat, fast course. That excites most people. It makes me want to puke. Course environment really is not playing much of a factor at this point. I’m going to be slow. Fast course just means that I’ll probably be last. So, in preparation of that…

I’ve been walking.

Lots and lots of walking.

Seriously.

Walk. Walk. Walk.

It’s pretty much all I do. I walk before work. I walk at lunch. I walk after work. I walk outside. I walk inside. I walk in my living room to annoying walking DVDs. I went to North Carolina…walked. I went to Longboat Key...walked. I walk with friends from high school. I walk with co-workers. I walk with former co-workers. Pretty much anybody that speaks to me gets invited to walk with me. It’s annoying to everyone around me, I’m sure.

So, that’s what I’ve been doing. Walking. And complaining (sorry folks, I know I brought this on myself). Good times. I did realize the other day that walking anything less than five miles honestly no longer requires any thought or motivation. I’m on auto pilot. I can do it with my eyes closed and one arm tied behind my back. Unfortunately though, as my tolerance for distance increases, my attention span decreases. I can no longer walk alone. I can stand about 2.5 miles before I get all twitchy and bored and then every turn becomes an escape route to the car. On a positive note, I must say that my foot/leg is handling this much better than anticipated. At least my hipass is not falling off like Bucket List Sam’s. Big pat on the back for my right foot! On a negative note, that may only be because I’m constantly stretching, icing or schmearing it with icy hot. Can you develop an icy hot addiction? If so, we may be in trouble…

My Brilliant Idea

So, if you haven't heard, I'm doing the Cleveland Marathon on May 20. Exciting stuff. Scary, ridiculous, exciting stuff. What you should know about me. I am not a runner. I will not ever be a runner. I have plantar fasciitis, peroneal tendinitis and an overwhelming lack of desire which all prevent me from becoming a runner. In fact, I'm pretty sure that with a little sweet talking I could get my podiatrist to write me a life-time excuse to not be a runner. Something to look into...

So, why am I doing a marathon you ask? Well, it all started almost a year ago. Coach Angie (names will not be changed to protect the innocent) and I volunteered at the 2011 Cleveland Marathon for Girls on the Run. We were silly enough to think that there would be a ton of us coaches dragging ourselves out of bed at 4 AM to go volunteer in the cold and rain so our local GOTR organization could get a few bucks (and a free T-shirt. Do NOT ever underestimate the power of a free T-shirt). With the exception of our head GOTR person and all those close to her (I feel for you people, I really do. I work for a non-profit which basically means all those close to me get suckered into stuff like this all the time) we were the only coaches to volunteer. Newbie schmucks. It was written all over us, we get suckered into everything.

Standing in the cold, drizzling rain all morning getting mauled by speed demons for blackberry GU traumatized me. So when all these stragglers started coming through our water stand hours later and I learned there was a walking division for the marathon the skies opened up and the sun shown down on me. It was perfect! I could WALK this marathon next year! It would give me a reason for saying no to volunteering -- Yes, I have such a problem saying no to people, I'll go to crazy extremes to avoid it. I wouldn't have to see my life flash before my eyes when runners surrounded me ripping and tearing GU out of my hands (Let that be a lesson for all you speed demons out there, be nice to your GU Girl). More importantly, I could get one of those awesome 26.2 stickers for my car. Yes!

Even though I'm not a runner, I do subscribe to active.com, the subway series and all those other local racing organizations. Then I can see races that sound really cool, sign up for them and instantly be filled with regret. So, when I got the email for the Cleveland Marathon, I immediately remember the trauma from the GU, my inability to say no to volunteering and decided "I'm doing it". I post on Coach Angie's facebook wall letting her know what I'm thinking and that she's expected to participate. If you don't know Coach Angie then you should know that besides coaching little girls how to run, laughing at me when I get stuck in porta-johns and loving Cracker Barrel that she is brilliant. Because she promptly said NO. She, apparently, does not suffer from the "saying no" problem that I have. However, Bucket List Sam was stalking that day on FB, saw the post and was immediately intrigued because....well, doing a marathon is on her bucket list, of course! Sign her up! We then promptly coerced Monica and Jen into it as well. So, that's how our little foursome of insanity came to be.

Almost 2.5 months into training, almost 2.5 months late on starting the blog and 2.5 months away from race day here we are....