Ready to rock you

Two great things about today:

1)  It's the last day of March

2)  My college education didn't go to waste

Let's discuss #1 first.  Hey March?  Yeah, don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.  Goodbye and good riddance!  I've been hurting - sometimes emotionally, all the time physically - for your entire duration, and I'm soooo over it.  I can't be 100% angry with you though...I completed my first marathon while you were here, and it was a truly remarkable experience and one I will never forget.  For that, I sincerely thank you.  But as for the rest of your bullshit, however, take a hike!

Moving on to #2.  I haven't practiced as an athletic trainer since my first daughter was born,  7+ years ago.  And even then, it was in a physical therapy clinic, and my injury assessment skills were hardly ever put to use.  At the recommendation of my fellow Bomber, Jackie, I saw an orthopedist today, whose specialty is in running and overuse injuries.  Granted, he works for the Children's Hospital and primarily sees kids, but I figured I'm child-sized anyway, so let's give him a shot.  I was relieved when Dr. Brenner confirmed my self-diagnosis of IT Band Syndrome, as it meant he didn't believe there was something more sinister going on with my left leg (although ask any runner and they'll tell you IT band issues are as sinister as the devil himself!).  He assured me that my self-treatment had been right on track and that I should keep on keepin' on, along with starting physical therapy.  Everything but the "let's hold off on running until I see you again in 5 weeks" part sounded great.  

I was expecting to hear that I shouldn't run for a certain number of weeks, so this didn't come as a complete surprise.  I was mentally prepared to take more time off, and I was even thinking about my plan of attack while I was sitting in the waiting room.  I will approach the next few weeks of rehab just as I approached my race training...with focus, determination, and dedication.  I know there will be good days and bad days, but as long as I'm making overall progress toward the goal of getting this leg healthy, so be it.  I am happy to put in the work, and I have assembled an all-star team of medical support to guide me along the way.  Rehab, I'm ready to rock you.  Let's do this thing.

Like the deserts miss the rain

"I know I feel more like myself when I run, even if it's only a few miles, or at least I feel like the self I like best."  ~Bart Yasso

I'm missing my Saturday long runs.  A lot.  Even the rainy ones.  There's something about finishing a 10+ mile run before most people are done with their pancakes and bacon that makes me feel like I can do anything.  And eat anything.  Like pancakes and bacon.  

I still got up early this morning to get my sweat on.  I did the P90X3 Warrior workout, which was really fun.  So fun I did it again this afternoon, hoping to offset a few of the beers I intend to consume this evening.  

Thankfully, I have really enjoyed this past week of P90X3.  I think it may take a little time to tweak the program to suit my needs and abilities, but there was only one workout this week that seemed pretty much impossible to modify to accommodate my gimp status.  It feels great to try something new, and I look forward to seeing the improvements that will eventually come with sticking with the program.  

I'm also looking forward to seeing the orthopedist on Monday.  Is that weird?  I guess I'm just eager to get the ball rolling on getting better.  I've had less pain the past couple of days, but that's not enough to convince me I'm well on my way.  I still have some swelling where the IT band crosses the knee, and that needs to scram:

                                            

Nice, normal right knee

 

Gimpy, defective left knee.  

It's not a tumuh!

Maybe I'm hoping for a timeline too...with rest and hard work on the rehab front, I should be running in x number of weeks.  Having an end date to my runner envy might make this a little more manageable.  Not sure if I'll get one, but a girl can dream, right?  I'm ready to resume beast mode and...

...even if it takes all damn spring.

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low

Seriously.  Don't do it.  With the exception of that little marathon on the 16th, I haven't run in three weeks, and let me tell ya...if provoked, I will cut you.  

In all seriousness, this hiatus has been tougher on me than I thought it would be.  I thought I'd really enjoy a little time off of pounding the pavement, all the while shifting my focus to rehabbing this knee and hip.  But even with today's temps and winds both in the 30s, I had some serious runner envy when Ryan got some miles in after work today.  And the calendar says it's spring, which means there should be some ideal running conditions approaching...at this point, I'm just hoping to lace up before the heat and humidity of summer set in.  

Mentally, it's been interesting going from the excitement, anticipation and countless other emotions of preparing for the race to...to what???  I feel almost void of emotion now, aside from the crankiness I'm experiencing as my endorphin levels plummet due to lack of exercise. It feels as though I've been stripped of my hard earned title of "runner," and it's really bringing me down.   

So what have I been doing since Shamrock, you ask?  Stretching.  Foam rolling.  Pouting.  Lots of pouting.  I started P90X3 this week, which was something I was really looking forward to taking on after the marathon.  Tony Horton has been a major influence on my life for the past 7 1/2 years with P90X and P90X2, and I couldn't wait to bring it again now that - ironically enough - I wasn't afraid of getting injured by trying something new.  The first day was a great workout...just too short.  My buddy Tony condensed his kick ass workouts into 30 minutes to appeal to people who have a hard time fitting a whole hour of exercise into their day.  Personally, I like my daily hour of sweat, and will most likely do some of those videos twice, back to back.  This knee made it painfully obvious that I'm not ready for the agility stuff yet, but I'm trying to remain hopeful that I won't be sidelined too long.  

I have an appointment with an orthopedist next week, and I'm excited to get this healing process started.  The amount of pain I still have right now is really throwing me off...I thought for sure the time off of running and TLC over the past ten days would have calmed this sucker down, but I guess it has other plans.  My main concern right now is the potential for weight gain with my drastically reduced activity levels.  My appetite hasn't gotten the message yet, so each day has been a concerted effort to make good choices.  The weather doesn't feel like it, but the calendar says Memorial Day is just two months away...this body will be bikini ready!

Now, I am well aware that there are people in the world - and in my life even - who have actual problems.  Like real, grown-up problems.  I am incredibly fortunate that a nagging injury is the biggest source of stress in my life right now.  I am digging deep to channel that tough girl who ran that marathon just ten days ago so she can tell me to suck it up.  This knee will not hurt forever.  I will run again soon.  Every little thing is gonna be alright.  

Freeze Frame

We are now three days post-Shamrock, and I'm feeling better with each passing day.  I can ambulate with the normal gait pattern of a human instead of a pirate, and going up and down stairs doesn't involve the mustering of courage it did on Monday or even yesterday.  Aside from the IT band pain that ebbs and flows right along with the levels of ibuprofen in my bloodstream, my body feels good.  My battle scars of delayed onset muscle soreness are fading, and I'm ready to get my sweat on.  Sadly, I will be putting running on hold indefinitely until we get these issues with my left leg sorted out, but I'm excited about getting back to my usual early morning workouts with my GBFL (gym buddy for life, of course) Ryan, and our fearless leader, Mr. Tony Horton.  Bring it!!!  

Now, I know that in my race recap, I talked about things like being in pain, fighting the wind, and hitting a wall, but I promise you I enjoyed myself during this race.  I followed some silly advice from Kristy at Breath of Sunshine that had absolutely nothing to do with running.  She told me to smile and wave at the race photographers on the course.  This tidbit of advice jived well with my "fake it til ya make it" approach to this race, so I figured I'd give it a shot.  

 I have no idea where this was taken, but thumbs up, dude:

Double fisting some GUs before turning onto Shore Drive, around mile 16...what a GUber!!!

 Southbound on Atlantic, somewhere between miles 22 and 25

On the boardwalk, with King Neptune's dolphins in the blur over my right shoulder - probably around mile 26.1

I just like smiling.  Smiling's my favorite.  Not only did it give me something to do during the race, but Kristy was right when she said it would really lift my spirits.  Thank you, Kristy!!!

But it wasn't all fun and games.  The paparazzi did manage to catch a shot of me with more of a game face on:

Either the Secret Service was following me closely, or that guy was about to murder me!  

The finish line shots are evidence of how relieved I was to cross that finish line:

And this one shows all the celebration I could muster:

I was a bit giddy (delirious?) posing for the final photo with my coveted medal:

I've never been one to buy any of the official race photos (hence the photos of the photos on my computer screen I just shared with you!), but I may drop some major hints to Ryan about these...Mother's Day isn't all that far away, right?  I haven't ruled out running another marathon, but there's just something special about your first time... 

Day 52: May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground

Yesterday's task:  26.2 miles
Yesterday's weather:  mid 40s, 15- 20 mph northeast winds with higher gusts

Yesterday's outcome:  26.2 miles in 3:54:32 (8:57 min/mile pace)

Today's task:  Walk half a block to the bus stop...and back!

Today's outcome:  Mission accomplished

My body wouldn't let me sleep past 4:45am today.  I think it was trying to tell me to get up and stretch my battered legs, so I listened.  Bending isn't something my left leg wants to do today, so I scooted down the stairs on my butt.  It hung on for 26.2 miles yesterday, so it deserved to be rewarded with a little coddling.  The rest of my body feels about as sore as I expected.  And I'm really hungry.  

So here it is, the post I've been waiting 16 weeks to write, the Shamrock Marathon race recap!

I was in bed by about 9pm the night before the race, unsure if nerves would keep me up most of the night.  I woke up at 11:30, 2, 3, and 4.  By 4:40, there was no going back to sleep, but I let my body lie in bed to conserve every ounce of energy for the day ahead.  I felt more excited than I did nervous, and I think it's because I decided to follow everyone's advice and remove all pressure to perform "well" and instead focus on finishing and enjoying the race.  I got suited up, and wrote my mother-in-law's initials and a shamrock on my hand for good luck:

We found a great parking spot on 23rd Street, and on the hotels on Atlantic Avenue, I could see the glow of what turned out to be a gorgeous sunrise.  We had plenty of time, so I played tourist in my own city to get a snapshot:

We made the short walk up to the start, fighting a stiff northeast wind along the way.  The thought of running about 11 miles of the race into that wind was sickening, but there wasn't a whole lot I could do about it.  We did plenty of training runs in high winds, so I'd just have to suck it up.  We stretched in front of the Hilton, where we were protected from the wind a bit, and I used their warm, clean bathroom several times within 30 minutes.  Race time approached so quickly, and it was all too soon time to get to the start (the touristy pics continued until I turned in my phone with my dry bag):

I kissed Ryan good bye and good luck, and made my way into Corral 2.  The horn went off, and there was no turning back.  What have I done???

Within a half mile, I could feel my IT band start to act up.  By mile 2, it had ramped up to the stabbing pain I had come to know and loathe for the past few weeks.  The longest run I had done since the 20 miler was 6 miles, and I experienced the same exact thing.  I remembered that it never loosened up or got better by the time I hit 6 miles, but it never got worse either.  It never got to the point where I thought I simply couldn't go on, and I just had to wish and hope that it would be the same way for this race.  I heard Peggy's voice in my head...she would never rate her pain level higher than a 5 out of 10, and she would always say "it won't last forever" when she was experiencing her worst abdominal pains.  Any time my brain went back to my knee pain, I told myself it wouldn't last forever.  Carry on.  

The race course took us through two military bases, which was both inspiring and depressing at the same time.  There were young men and women from the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, and National Guard out there cheering for us, and I took high 5s from any one of them who stuck out their hand.  I felt like a piece of shit having them out there supporting and encouraging me through a stupid race, when I'm not out there encouraging them on the front lines.  I did not feel worthy of their cheers, but I so appreciated them and drew from their energy as we went into the wind.  Carry on.

Going up and over the bridge at Rudee Inlet for the second time was a relief...no more hills!  Chugging up the bridge wasn't too terrible, but going back down left my ITB screaming for mercy.  But the downhill didn't last forever and it was back around Rudee Loop and onto the windy boardwalk for a little over a mile.  Carry on.

Around mile 11, I was wondering why I didn't just sign up for the half.  Those miles had seemed to go by relatively quickly, and in just 2.1 miles, I could have been drinking beers and jamming with the Dublin 5.  Oh well.  15.2 to go.  Carry on.

Just before the halfway point, I saw the Raftery/Horbal cheering party for the second time in the race.  They were holding hilarious signs that I will try to get pics of and share with you at some point.  Apparently, in the 8 or so miles between then and when I saw them first, they were able to eat brunch at Waterman's.  Jealous.  I got a few high fives from them, which gave me the mojo I needed to face the second half of this beast of a race.  Carry on.

At around mile 14 heading north on Atlantic, the leaders were starting to fly south to the finish.  I think normally this would be a bit disheartening, knowing how much distance I still had to cover to get where they were, but they were passing people who were still walking the half marathon course...people who had an hour and a half and a 13.1 mile head start, so I didn't feel so bad about the position I was in!  Carry on.

Somewhere around mile 16, I realized my left leg was no longer hurting.  At all.  Earlier, I had felt the pain move from the IT band to the patellar tendon, then up in my left hip instead.  Either the cold wind I had been running into for 10 miles had numbed it all, or it simply needed 16 friggin' miles to work itself loose.  Either way, I was ecstatic.  Carry on.  

Making the turn onto Shore Drive was such a relief.  We were sheltered from the wind for a few miles, and I could almost taste the home stretch coming.  A DJ along the course fittingly played Kanye's "Stronger" as I passed him, and I, along with several others ahead of me, clapped and fist pumped for his choice in songs.  Carry on.

The stretch of Shore Drive before turning onto Fort Story was a lot longer than I remembered it being.  I was starting to get passed by a number of people, but I didn't care.  I was running my own race and remembered the advice I was given during the 20 miler...think of 20 miles as being halfway there, and make sure you have enough left in your tank when you hit 20.  After turning onto the base, I started feeling a bit wall-ish.  My mind wasn't all that clear, and my legs felt tired.  Not a good time to head back into the wind, which had picked up to a steady 20 mph, with gusts around 30 mph coming right off the Chesapeake Bay and into my face.  Even my hands were exhausted...I had the hardest time opening my fourth and final GU because my left fingers couldn't seem to hold it tightly enough to rip the top off.   I felt an overwhelming desire to walk, but told myself I had to make it to 20 miles before I could.  I had run 20 before, I had to do it again.  I hit 20 and didn't feel any worse, so I told myself to get to 21 before walking.  I was feeling hungry...the kind of hunger that a packet of GU just can't satiate...and like a desert oasis, there were the Marines handing out snacks.  I grabbed half a banana from a huge man in camo and scarfed it down.  I passed a few photographers at that point, so I'm sure there will be pictures surfacing of me with a half eaten GU in one hand and a banana in the other.  Awesome.  Carry on.

I don't know if it was the banana kicking in or the sight of the gate leaving Fort Story that did it, but by mile 21, I was feeling refreshed.  I got really excited around mile 23, feeling the wind at my back and counting down the numbered streets along Atlantic Avenue.  I grabbed a small cup of jelly beans from a lovely north end resident at mile 24, and she told me just 2.2 to go.  I could have shrieked with joy.  At mile 25, the race clock said 3:44, and barring disaster in the next 1.2, I was going to finish this thing in under 4 hours.  I saw a few guys head over to the side of the road to work out cramps, and I tried to offer them some encouragement while at the same time praying the running gods didn't have the same fate in store for me.  The final turn onto the boardwalk at 37th Street met me with another strong gust of wind, but the crowd was going nuts, the cowbells were ringing, and the flags leading up to the finish were flapping in the "breeze."  I locked eyes with a spectator who I think was Bob, the guy I ran most of my 20 miler with a few weeks ago.  I wanted so badly to make him proud.  Carry on.  

The sight of the 26 mile flag was glorious.  But not quite as glorious as seeing my parents and my girls standing right near it.  I waved frantically, hoping my dad would see me in time to get the girls' attention.  He did even better, and was able to capture a little video footage as I passed:

Just a few yards shy of the finish, I heard my neighbor Michelle screaming my name.  I'm sure her poor kids hate me for being the reason they were out in the cold wind, but it was so great to have them there.  I crossed the finish line and felt happy.  Just happy.  I thought I'd be a puddle of emotions, but happiness reigned.  I made my way down the chute, collecting bananas, Gatorade, cookies, pretzels, and my huge honkin' medal:



I could barely speak to thank the volunteers who congratulated me, but I'm hoping my smile showed them how grateful I was for them.  As I posed for the post race pics, the photographer asked how I felt.  I had no words to answer her with.  I was exhausted and hurting and could barely speak, but I felt incredible.  It was such a bizzarre feeling.  I continued down the boardwalk to collect my dry gear from the truck.  As I approached, I managed to drop a few of my goodies onto the ground.  In that instant, I found another way that this race was like pregnancy...the thought of bending down to pick my snacks up off the floor was almost too much to bear.  I sighed heavily, and made my way down, thankful to have gotten back up as well.  Carry on.

I found Ryan stretching beside his dry gear truck and was reunited with the rest of my family shortly after that.  

It meant so much to me to have them there - and at mile 26, no less - to watch their parents do something that was challenging and down right scary.  I know they don't understand the enormity of what we did, but I hope they will someday.  Somehow, we made it across the finish line, despite illness (our own, but more importantly Ryan's mother's), injury, and every curve ball Mother Nature threw our way.  


Ready to get warmed up and out of the wind, I dipped into the changing tent to put on some cozy pants and a jacket.  From there, we hit the post-race party for some hot Murphy's Irish stew and cold Yuengling beer:



I spotted Bart Yasso nearby, chased him down and gave him a big hug.  He seemed genuinely excited for me, and I thanked him for the advice he gave me just two days before to enjoy this experience.  The enjoyment continued as we listened to a few 80s hits from the Deloreans together (that's Bart in blue on the left):

Ryan and I finished our second bowl of Irish stew and decided to head back home.  Then it hit us:

Those six blocks felt like 60, but we made it back to the car and were on our way home.  We made a pit stop at the grocery store to stock up on essentials:

All in all, it was an incredible experience.  I am incredibly thankful to everyone who has offered support and encouragement throughout the past 16 weeks, and especially those who braved the elements to come out and cheer for us yesterday.  You truly kept me going when I needed it most.  The million dollar question...will I run another marathon?  I can't definitively say yes, but I can't say no either.  We'll find out in time.  Until then, I'll just have to carry on.  

Day 51: Dick Clark's Shamrockin' Eve

So here we are, a little more than 12 hours before my first marathon.  Somehow, it feels as though my nerves are subsiding a bit, and I'm wondering how I'll be feeling tomorrow morning when I wake up.  It's been a fun-filled Shamrock weekend so far, and here's the play-by-play:

FRIDAY

The Fancying of the race shirts, as is tradition:

Managed to hit the expo by myself since I wanted to stick around and hear Bart Yasso speak.  Forgot to get pics of all the fun props they have around the Convention Center, but they don't look as fun without my little leprechauns in them anyway.  I went around and got race bibs and t-shirts for the whole family, then was amused, entertained, inspired, and motivated by Mr. Yasso.  He spoke of a woman who planned her chemotherapy around her race schedule, which really put this whole IT band nonsense into perspective for me.  After he spoke of the power of running and the running community, he stuck around for a book signing and photo ops, which I took full advantage of:

During his Q&A session, I asked him what his one piece of advice would be for a first time marathoner.  He basically said to enjoy it.  Don't put the pressure of finishing in a certain time on yourself because that will take away from the joy of this experience.  His advice is an echo of the advice I've been given by so many seasoned marathoners, so I'm thinking it's something I really need to do!  And I'll have you know that Bart Yasso is jealous of me.  Yes, this man who has run over 1200 races on all seven continents, is jealous of me.  Why?  Because I'm guaranteed a PR tomorrow!!!  

On the way home from the expo, I passed one of the water/potty stations for tomorrow's race and thought maybe I should pull over and puke there:

After a good dinner and putting the girls to bed, I kept the distraction going with a little rainbow looming (the girls had good luck bracelets, so I needed one too!) and college hoops:

Apparently, Syracuse went 25-0 to start the season because I didn't watch any of their games.  I promise I won't watch them for the rest of the season.  

SATURDAY

Today we were up and at 'em to get to the oceanfront to cheer for some people we knew running the 8k.  This included some get pumped music in the car:

We saw the Mayor of Virginia Beach, some friends from preschool and elementary school, and our neighbor Michelle, who Sham-ROCKED her first 8k!

The pre-race festivities included some live music, which my girls can't get enough of:

A photo op with Leprechaun Bob:

A Silly Shamrock contest, where some of the staff at Brynn's school took home first prize with their green minion costumes:

And of course, showing off their Fancy for a few pics:

I ran with Camryn during her Leprechaun Dash, and I loved every second of it.  The kid is a natural with her long stride and arm action.  I can't wait to see the pics from the race photographers, because I'm sure she was grinning from ear to ear.  

Ryan ran the final mile with Brynn, and led her to a PR that was 40 seconds faster than her time from last year.  That's my girl!

My parents were kind enough to take the girls back to their house from the race today, leaving Ryan and me with an entire afternoon to carb load, hydrate, and rest.  It was gorgeous outside, so we spent every bit of the afternoon out back on the deck.

Strawberries with Nutella and Greek yogurt dip...fuel of champions!

We spent a lot of time on our feet this morning for the girls' races, so I made sure I got off my feet for a while this afternoon:

This evening was spent eating more carbs:

And getting my race gear and dry bag items together:

I still haven't decided if I'll be wearing shorts or pants...Mother Nature is going to keep me guessing until the very last minute tomorrow!  It's supposed to be in the 40s, but pretty windy and feeling more like it's in the 30s.  I'd rather wear my shorts because they passed the 20 mile test with flying colors, and also because my pants have no pockets for my GU.  It'll be a game time decision, I suppose.  

The rest of tonight will include a long, hot shower and early to bed.  Probably a few compulsive checks of the alarm clock first though.  I can't believe this is really happening tomorrow, but I'm going to heed the advice of those who have been there, done that.  I'm going to take it all in and enjoy the celebration of life that is a marathon.  I will smile for the cameras, even if it hurts.  I will be grateful I am healthy and that I live in a time and place where I can do insane things like this for fun.  Boy, am I

  

Day 50: It's the final countdown

That song is in your head now, isn't it?  You're welcome.  

The Shamrock Marathon is four days away.  That's not even a whole hand to count with.  The race week jitters are in full effect...I'm washing my hands, drinking water, and checking the weather forecast with obsessive compulsion.  Emails and Facebook posts by J&A Racing and other Shamrockers give me chills.  I've been nauseous most of the week, which is either the manifestation of pure dread, or just rot gut from the plethora of pills I've been popping.

I've been spending some time on Pinterest each night, reading any and every article related to surviving your first marathon.  I got my hands on a copy of the running documentary, "Spirit of the Marathon," which I plan to watch sometime between now and Sunday.  I'll be going to listen to running legend Bart Yasso speak at the Shamrock expo Friday night, ready to absorb every word he says.  I'm in Psych Yourself Up Mode, and this is where you come in.

I've mentioned a few times that I feel so many similarities between training for a marathon and preparing for the birth of a child.  There's excitement, of course, and there's nervousness, anxiety, and the feeling of "Oh my God, how am I going to do this???"  When you're having a baby, your family and friends throw you a shower to celebrate how far you've come.  And quite often, they give you advice on how to get through the home stretch and beyond.  So I've decided to throw myself a little virtual shower of sorts, and you're all invited.  There will be no crustless finger sandwiches, boozeless punch, or gift registries (although if you'd like to buy me some new running gear, I certainly won't stop you!).  All I ask is that you leave a few words of advice and/or encouragement to help me get to that finish line.  Share an experience, words of wisdom, or just a funny meme that will make me laugh.  Basically, anything that will keep me from going off the rails on this crazy train.  

And if you have any desire at all to come out on Sunday and be a spectator, click on this link for all of the race info, including a course map.