Brutal, Absolutely Brutal

Actually, ass-kicking is a more accurate description for today's 12-miler.

My high hopes of a good run were shot after I stepped out on the balcony this morning.

Damn, it was hot!

But, like the optimistic fool that I am I thought it would be better than it turned out.

It was disappointing. Even after the first 5 miles, when I typically start to feel loose, I was feeling horribly. I just could not get into my rhythm or rid my conscience of the self-doubting thoughts. I think around mile 8 I settled into a shuffle. And I shuffled, did some more shuffling, sweat, wondered how much further I had to go, stopped for water at every stop available, doused my head in water which resulted in a nice stream of salt right in the eye, and made the last loop around the dreaded soccer fields.

I managed to get through the mileage, not gracefully, but I got through. All I can say is that the mind does amazing things when you're battling yourself to get through 12 miles.

After today's run I'm starting to re-evaluate this whole marathon thing. I've done it once before and I can do it again. This time though, I don't want to force it and risk being hurt again. I can't afford to go through another 6 months of physical therapy like I did last time.

I'll make the decision after my 20-miler. If I pass on KC, I'll keep training through the winter until the Austin marathon [my first marathon] in February. It's flat and fast...much like Chicago [and I have a friend there so it would be a relatively cheap trip].

Enter optimistic Taylor. I guess there's something to be said for getting through 12 miles in 90 degree heat. If I can do it during the hottest month of summer, I have to hope that I can do that 2 times + 2.2 more miles in October.

After the run Barb, Rego and I headed to Einstein's for breakfast where I had the do-I-get-sick-or-eat feeling. I ate. Got home. Hopped into a soothing ice bath. This time I upgraded to a medium size bag of ice from White Hen. Then, my favorite part of a tough workout, I nestled into my warm blankets for an hour nap.

I woke up--a bit stiff, but excited for the afternoon ahead of us. My wonderful boyfriend of 3.5 years, Jacob, has a fascination with flying and airplanes. Last week I bought him a 1 hour flight lesson in which I could tag along as he took off and maneuvered the plan all by himself. It was pretty sweet!

We flew right along the Lake where I could pick out the beginning and end points of my run. Despite my disappointment, as I traced the path of my run, I had nothing but respect for the distance I covered today.

Now, I'm snuggled up with my warm blankets, relaxing music, and drinking a glass of Ravenswood Merlot. I'm gonna sleep well tonight!

Nike+iPod

I've been doing a lot of reading up on the Nike+iPod collaboration, specifically as it relates to the technology used to track mileage, pace, and calories. The device seems legit and based on my test run last night, I think this little gadget will become my new best friend.

Luckily, I already have a nano so all I needed to purchase was the sensor that attaches to your shoe that sends a signal to a sensor attached to the nano. The sensors all together were only $30. I didn't splurge for the Nike shoes that have a spot notched out in the soles to hold the sensor. Instead, I figured out a way to rig it to my shoes. That is, with a sturdy piece of tape...for now [I'm the modern day MacGyver]. I'm betting someone will come out with a holder of some sorts that you can clip to shoes other than Nike. That way all runners can enjoy the benefits of the new technology without being forced into buying the Nike shoes.

All in all, I give it a 9 on a 10 point scale. I tested the accuracy on a 1.4 mile treadmill run...but by the time I got everything configured my accuracy was shot. The real test will be tomorrow on our 12-miler where I know the miles are accurate.

At the end of 1.4 miles, nano said I finished in 8:56 averaging a 6 minute 30 second pace. Yes, really. Now, I was running fast...but I don't think that fast. That's Kenyan fast. So, again, while I don't know if that's completely accurate...we'll test it tomorrow.

After my workout I synched it back up to my computer as I would do if I were wanting to upload more songs to the nano. My workout information was sent directly to nikeplus.com where I can keep track of every run, set and track goals, and compete with other runners using the same device.

Wish me luck on the 12-miler tomorrow--I'm not so confident about how it will go. I know I sound bi-polar with about every other run being either fantastic or horrible...nothing in the middle. But really, how can a 5 or 6-miler be more difficult than a 10-miler? Can someone explain that to me?

A KC-tastic Run

This weekend Barb, Rego, and I ran with the folks on the KC TNT team. Take the kids out of the city and make them run in a swampy jungle and they don't know what to do.

We were all more than apprehensive about the 10-miler because of the oppressive Kansas heat...so we stayed hydrated the whole day while in Lawrence with Free State beers, Boulevard and greasy fried pickles at Jefferson's.

Man, I really miss campus and the wonderful town of Lawrence. Rock Chalk Jayhawk!




Sorry, needed to insert the obligatory Jayhawk and Lawrence tangent.

To our surprise the path seemed much cooler than the cemented and sunny path in Chicago. As we ran the stretches of tree and swamp lined path we got a nice cool breeze from the moisture coming off of the trees [have I ever told you I HATE

the word m-o-i-s-t? Even typing it gives me the creeps].

At any rate, it was one of those runs that make up for all of the painful, wish-the-end were here, runs that happen far too often. One of those runs where I solve all of the world's problems, wish I could keep going but I don't have any more time, runs. And most importantly, it was the run that for the first time in the past 9 weeks of training reconfirmed why I'm training for and will run this marathon. Get the point? Running really is the cheapest therapy I can find!

As the years away from college pass, I've found it very hard to receive feedback on, well, really anything. In school you have mid-terms, finals, teacher conferences, internships, and papers to give you feedback on how you're doing. Unfortunately, you don't have constant assessments like that in a professional setting. Running has served as my bar of measurement. Will I push myself to reach that next mile, or will I be satisfied with the average 3 miles? Running is such a definite answer. You either make it as far as you had hoped, or you fall short. No gray areas.

Saturday definitely surpassed my hopes for a good run. So much so that when Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl" came on I shouted the chorus at the top of my lungs. Rego played along in the sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-ti-da part. I know, lame...but fun.

There My Goes Taylor-Logic Again

My Taylor-logic that a good 4-miler is better than an bad 6-miler seems to have bitten me in the arse...because I had an AWFUL 6-miler on Sunday.

Like a bad TNT-er I skipped the Saturday run, but for good reason. Jacob and I had to move Saturday and a run would have only complicated a busy day of moving. The move went very well, the two of us moved everything and were settled in our new apt by 5:30.

Sunday I decided to make up the mileage...though after enjoying a morning of sleeping in. I didn't anticipate how hot it was going to be Sunday or I would have headed out earlier than 10:30. Seriously, I was sweating before I even started running [and I don't glow or glisten like the other cute runner girls on the path...I sweat]. Hey, by reading this blog you get the right of full disclosure, and I'll give it to ya.

As you can guess, the run was horrible...probably the worst on record. My legs were a bit sore from moving for 7 hours the day before so I was going at the speed of a snail. Every water stop I could find, I stopped...but not even 10 yards I needed more and the 1/2 bowl of cherrios didn't provide nearly enough sustenance.

And, to top it all off my water bottle was stolen. Before heading out I hid it under the TNT meeting spot so that I would have a nice water stop before finishing my last 2 miles. Oh silly Taylor, why would you think it would be safe there?!? That's right. Someone stole my 1/2 full water bottle...and on the Wilson lake front path. Can you believe that?! I was in desperate need of water by the time I hit the meet-up spot and then realizing I didn't have any water really miffed me.

I headed back to the train as parched as the Mohave [yea, I know the Mohave doesn't get parched but it's the best analogy I have at 4 on a Tuesday]. By the time I got back to my apt I couldn't decide whether I needed to eat or get sick. I'm not a yacker, but I felt like I was going to lose it. For the record, I ate, hopped in an ice bath [those actually help, I thought it was some masochistic thing runners liked to do], and took a nice long nap.

The end.

P.S. This weekend OOSG, Running Jayhawk and I are running with the KC team since we'll be in the area for a wedding. It's a 10-miler and let's just say, I'm beyond nervous.

My First Marathon

While I did forgo the mid-week speed workout last week for finishing up some things at work, I still went out for a nice 4-miler. It was a great run, only 4 miles, but still a great run to log. That's better than a horrible 6-miler, right? I love Taylor-logic; the right I give myself to rationalize most anything.

A few weekends ago as we were cleaning the apartment in preparation for our move this weekend, I ran [pun intended] across my first pair of marathon shoes. Yes, I still keep them for sentimental purposes. How could I scrap something
so easily when it represents so much of who I am today? Those shoes represents the mental, physical, and emotional limits I thought I never could reach.


To say they're beat up is a vast understatement.

Which leads me to the story I've been keeping from you. The story of my first marathon in 2004 in Austin, Texas.

I don't know when the idea came to me, but for as far back as I can remember, it's been a lifetime goal of mine to complete a marathon. You know the go skydiving, travel to all 7 continents, own a winery...type of goals. It never dawned on me that starting with a 10K, then 20K, then working up to running a marathon would be a good idea. Instead I jumped right in, as I do with most things.

It was my last semester of college...and it was a pretty slow one. I was still very involved, but only took about 11 hours of coursework, which lent itself very well to training for a marathon. Two other roomies and best friends jumped on board and we were all off training for our first marathon.

The five month training program spanned the winter months in Kansas, so a lot of my runs were spent on el treadmillo at the student rec center. And, well, let's be honest, I was a runner only in the sense that I would only run outside if the conditions were perfect. And by perfect I mean, 0% wind, 0% humidity, 100% blue sky and 0% hills. I know, high maintenance.

Around mid January I began experiencing pain in my right hip while running. Knowing that the marathon was only a month away, I feared that a doctor might tell me to halt my dreams of completing the marathon. So being the hard-head I am, I ran through the pain by overcompensating in my left leg stride. The longest run, a 20-miler, was one of the less than perfect days to run outside. So, I ran it all on a treadmill. Three and a half hours later and 3 quarters into the Super Bowl, I was finished...and so was my hip. I decided to see a chiropractor for a few quick fixes before I ran.

Long story short, I ran the marathon injured and did finish, though, with an out of place hip, a strained SI (back) muscle, and in 5 hours. My goal was #1 to finish and #2 to do it in at least 4 hr 30 min. After all, P. Diddy did it in 4h 15m and Oprah in 4h 30m. It didn’t occur to me these star moguls had professional trainers, nutritionists and all the free time in the world to train. Since then, I’ve felt the need to redeem myself and show that marathon what I can really do....uninjured. All I can think of is how much I want to run down that final .2 mile stretch with a huge smile on my face and not a look of pain in my eyes. It’s sick and twisted, I know...but redemption will be mine.

So, that's the goal for the KC marathon. Finish uninjured and still smiling.

This is a picture of me and my two roomies post marathon. That's definitely a smile of pain.