Cuz this is thriller

With so much going through my head about the past couple of weeks, I'm not quite sure where to begin.  Where we left off seems to be a good place.  The week before last, it seemed as though I was coming to my first bump in the road since my full blown return to running.  My mileage was starting to creep up and my pace was starting to quicken.  I was feeling strong and confident, especially coming off of a great race the last weekend in September.  My IT band started nagging me a little again the following week, which really started to chip away at the confidence I was building.  Trying hard not to panic, I simply stepped back a little.  I ran smart, listening to my body and cutting back distance and speed when I felt it necessary to do so.  I had a few races on my calendar, and while I am not putting pressure on myself to knock them out of the park, I do want to do as well as I can and (most importantly) feel good while running.  

This past week, I switched up my training plan to account for Saturday's Wicked 10k.  Instead of 6 x 800s, I did the 6 x 400s the plan usually has me do the week of a race.  I was nervous going into them because I was hurting a bit the week before.  I was also super busy that day and was just trying to get the run over with so I could get on with my day.  Not the best mentality to have going into a run, but it happens.  I managed to complete those 400s with a great deal of consistency and absolutely no pain, so chalk one up in the win column.  

Tuesday's original task:  6 x 800s @3:26, 90 sec RI
Tuesday's modified task:  6 x 400s @1:41, 90 sec RI

Tuesday's outcome:  1.4 mile w/u, 1:31, 1:29, 1:27, 1:27, 1:30, 1:28 (90 sec RI), 1.4 mile c/d 

Last week was also a recovery week for P90X, which means lots of yoga, stretching, and core work.  My knee was feeling much better all week, but I still wasn't as excited as I felt I should have been for what is quite possibly my favorite J&A race.  Silly as it is, the problem was my clothes.  It's a Halloween themed race, and I had nothing to wear.  I'm not the person who is willing to risk major discomfort during a race for the sake of a costume, but I do still want to bring an element of fun to what I'm wearing.  And I had nothing.  I popped into every store I could think of while on Fancy Fonts errands last week, and kept striking out.  Until Thursday morning.  

I had to go to Kohls to make an exchange before Camryn went to school, and I was really close to buying a comfy black hoodie so I would just be decked out in all black and maybe paint a spider web on my face or something.  Camryn insisted on heading over to the shoe department to try on the Twinkle Toes she doesn't know Santa will be bringing her for Christmas, and as we walked by the juniors' section, I remembered that's where I found the ninja turtle shirt I got for last year's Wicked and took a quick look around.  Low and friggin' behold, they had this:



I mean, does that shirt have my name written all over it or what???  The fact that it has the same spooky font I've used on pumpkin after pumpkin was a sweet little bonus.  I forked over my $8 and smiled the rest of the day.  

Finding just the right race day outfit was the boost I needed going into Thursday's easy 3 miles.  I felt energized and had a great run.  It was pretty cool out that day and I was able to wear long sleeves, so I brought my phone and ear buds along for the short, easy run, running the cord down through my sleeve to keep it from bouncing all over the place.  The music may have gotten me a little more amped than I would have liked to be for what was supposed to be easy, but it was a great run and it was fun to see my splits.

Thursday's original task:  1-2-1-2-1 @7:41
Thursday's modified task:  3 miles easy

Thursday's outcome:  8:33, 8:07, 7:33

The quicker pace did feel easy, which brought me back to feeling strong and confident after a so-so week the week before.  I was race ready for sure!

Then it was Friday.  And Friday was a slap in the face.  My knee hurt all day long.  Not a ton, but enough to let doubt creep right back into my head.  A similar thing happened the day before the Neptune 8k in September...my low back had this little nagging twinge all day long, making me wonder if the race was a good idea, and it was happening again now before the Wicked.  Not cool.  I did the only thing I knew how to do:

I fired up my glutes.

I fired up my adductors (while standing at the stove, cooking dinner - multitasking like a boss!).

I foam rolled.

I did lots of self-talk to try to convince myself that it was just the running gods having a little fun with me, trying to psych me out and see what I'm really made of.  Yeah, that had to be it.  I hit up the race expo with the kiddos, which always gets me pumped for a race.  I loved collecting four race numbers and four bags of goodies (one for each Fancy family member), and the girls loved the spooky stuff (and free candy) they had scattered around the convention center:

Since it would be an early morning, we laid out our race gear and got to bed early.



We were up long before the Saturday morning sun, and I was pleasantly surprised to have no sign of knee discomfort whatsoever.  I was incredibly thankful, but if you're listening, running gods, I could do without the race-day-eve psych out!!!  Knowing I wouldn't come anywhere close to a 10k PR, I was about as relaxed as I've ever been going into a race.  I had my whole family with me, and I was going to enjoy the fun atmosphere of the crazy costumes that filled the streets of Virginia Beach that morning.  It sure as hell beat the queasy feeling I usually have before races!


Pre-race selfie by Sara

I crossed the start and just ran.  I felt like I was keeping a quick, but comfortable pace, but I was also trying to get ahead of a guy who would be dragging a string of beer cans behind him for 6.2 miles.  Since I missed the 1 mile marker, I decided not to look at my watch until I hit #2.  Once I got to #2, I looked down at my watch and saw 14:45.



I felt like I should back off a little, but I'm still having a hard time backing off some but not too much.  So I just kept going.  I stuck with a guy dressed like this:



and tried to feed off the energy of people yelling "Run, Forrest, Run!"  every hundred feet or so.  But that got a little irritating after a while.  Once we got back onto Atlantic, the smells of the restaurants cooking up breakfast started to nauseate me (what a friggin' head case I was!) and I tried to just look ahead to keep my focus.  I ended up being shoulder to shoulder with another girl for what seemed like an eternity, and I thought I should try to stick with her.  Shortly after mile 4, I could feel myself getting tired in a hurry.  That girl started pulling ahead by a few feet, and for a brief second, I told myself to let her go.  But then something took over me.  I don't know...



...but I was not letting that girl go!  I stuck with her, and somewhere after we turned onto the seemingly endless boardwalk, I passed her.  I knew she wasn't far behind and I'd have to maintain my pace if I wanted to edge her out, and who knew what kind of kick she'd have at the end (I was assuming I'd have very little left in me!).  Just past mile 5 is where the stitch in my side kicked in, and I spent the next mile plus grunting and groaning and begging for the mercy of the finish line.  Remembering Kristy's keen advice to smile for the cameras, I did my best:


And there's my girl behind me in white!

But then there's this one:


Dear God, make me a bird.  So I can fly fah.  Fah fah away from heah.  

As I approached the finish, DMB's "Halloween" was just starting to play and MC Bobby Fresh (aka Leprechaun Bob) pronounced Psimas correctly for the first time in J&A Racing history.  I crossed the finish line feeling like I had arrived (instead of Karen Puhsimas, Karen Seeeemas, Karen Pissmass, or any other variation of my tricky last name).  I stopped my watch, looked down at it, and would have cartwheeled if I had anything left in me.  

46:10.  

Just 6 seconds over my 10k PR of 46:04 from last year's Wicked.  Thinking I'd be more in the neighborhood of 48 minutes, I couldn't help but grin from ear to ear.  

I gave myself a minute to catch my breath and collect my finish line goodies before turning around to try to find that #198 I tried so hard to stay with for the second half of the race.  Once I found her, we both looked at each other, shaking our heads.  We high fived and ended up thanking each other...turns out I was pushing her just as much as she was pushing me, leaving me to wonder how each of us would have done without the other.  God, I love racing!!!  Knowing I wasn't chasing a PR, chasing this girl (because I had no idea I had 11 years and a few age brackets on her!) was the driving force of this hard-fought finish.  I am grateful for her and will certainly keep an eye out for her in future races.  

We had some time to hang out on the beach and enjoy a beverage or two before the girls' Monster Mile fun run kicked off.  It was a picture perfect October day in Virginia Beach, and I had a great time soaking it up with some friends.


Jennie Phaneuf and Karen Psimas.  We're in competition for bragging rights of the Most Often Mispronounced Last Name in America.

Before I could finish beverage #2, it was time to line up for the kids' run.  Camryn had a game time change of heart and wanted to run with me instead of Daddy ("I'm just a little bit nervous because I've never done a Monster Mile before."), and I was more than happy to pace the slower kid.  I had the greatest time running with her, even when she was totally distracted by the Thriller dancers a few blocks before the finish line.  She really kicked it into high gear at the end, and I couldn't be more proud of her.  

It was her first ever mile run, and her little legs carried her across the finish line in 12:10.  She was quick to spot the volunteer holding the pumpkin bucket full of candy just past the finish line, and she couldn't wait to get home and hang her new medal with the others on her bedroom doorknob.

Ryan ran with Brynn, and he said she ran her little tail off.  She was huffing and puffing, but she wasn't stopping.  I wish I could have run with them both because Brynn's intensity and game face totally crack me up.  I'm glad the marathonfoto.com photographers caught it on film though:

She's a fierce little Frankenstein!

Such a great day for my little family, and I'm starting to like these annual Wicked family photos we've been getting:

But just like any other fall Saturday morning, we had a soccer game to dash off to.  We made the long trek back to the car and I checked my phone for our preliminary results.  Much like after the Neptune 8k, I was shocked by what I found out:

2nd place in my age group?!?!  Woohoo!!!  Last year's PR had me placing 12th, so this just goes to show that placing is more about who shows up that day than your own personal performance.  But since this was my 2nd fastest 10k, I think a 2nd place award is simply perfect.  From what I've heard, there were lots of issues with the timing of this race, so if it ends up changing and I get bumped to say, 20th place instead, that's just fine by me.  I showed up and I ran hard and I'm happy happy happy!

I woke up yesterday morning feeling sore.  Like soooooooooore.  My calves felt tight before I even got out of bed, and each passing hour of the day revealed a new muscle group that was sore from yesterday's effort.  Normally I would beat myself up over missing a PR by just 1 second per mile, but the soreness that encompassed every inch of my body was proof I gave it everything I had.  



We took a nice long bike ride and park hopped all afternoon yesterday to get some blood flowing to my achy legs, and the day and the company couldn't have been prettier.

We capped off a great weekend with dinner with some fun friends and some more foam rolling and massage for my legs.  I'm giving myself one more rest day from running, then getting back at it tomorrow because guess what...it's race week again!!!  I'm so excited to get to race again in a 5k this weekend (for free, no less!), and I'm hoping to draw from my experience at the Wicked to dig deep and fight to the finish.  Once again, I firmly believe a PR is out of reach right now, but I'll make like Tony Horton and 

Whisper to a scream

Even if it's not as flat and toned as you'd like it to be, you should always trust your gut.  Last week, when faced with a tempo run totaling 7 miles, my gut told me, "That might be a bit much.  Maybe cut it to 5."  I didn't listen.  In fact, I stuck with the 7 miles on my training plan AND pushed a jogging stroller at the windy oceanfront.  If I were my gut, I would have punished me with raging diarrhea or projectile vomiting.  But I'm not my gut.  It seems my gut is far more evil.  My gut went for the jugular, or in my case, the IT band.  

I felt fine - correction:  my knee felt fine - during and right after that run, but it made its discourse known the following day.  Luckily, I had Thursday and Friday off from running and could rest and rehab before my Saturday long run of a whopping 6 miles.  By Saturday morning, I physically felt fine.  Mentally, not so much.  The fear had returned.  I was so scared my knee was going to hurt during this run, and I hated feeling that way.  I tossed my time goal aside and just ran what I felt like running.  I paid no attention to my watch, but I could feel myself speeding up and backing off a few times during those 6 miles.  And it never hurt.  Oh thank heaven!  I might make this a regular thing...wear a watch for my Saturday runs but never look at it until I get home.  

Saturday's task:  6 miles @8:11

Saturday's result:  6.1 miles @8:01

We spent the rest of Saturday enjoying a gorgeous summer-like day at the oceanfront, riding bikes at playing on the playgrounds on the beach.

 80 degrees and sunny means a boardwalk full of beach cruisers

Just like the view I had riding my bike when I was growing up...NOT!!!

Why should the kids be the only ones enjoying the playground's amenities?  When it comes to handstands, I abide by a strict use it or lose it policy.

Over the course of the weekend, I made sure to give my hip and knee the attention they were craving.  I stretched, I foam rolled, I massaged.  I went into Monday's intervals feeling pretty good, but still having that bit of fear lurking just beneath the surface.  

Monday's task:  10 x 400m @1:41

Monday's outcome:  1:32, 1:29, 1:30, 1:30, 1:32, 1:31, 1:34, 1:32

In case you're counting, that was 8 x 400m instead of 10.  My knee was starting to whisper to me on the seventh one, so I quit while I was ahead after the eighth.  Didn't want that whisper to turn into a scream, and I still had almost a mile and a half  left to get home.  I was really excited about the consistency of those 400s, and the fact that I was well under my target pace for all of them was icing on the cake.  No need to push through two more sprints to satisfy my need to check a box.

Even though I trusted my gut on Monday and cut my workout a little short, I still paid for it on Tuesday.  My knee ached with everyday activities, and my mind was starting to go back to that dark place that being injured takes you.  My confidence was being crushed, and I knew I had to dial it back a little with my training program.  Not exactly what I hoped to be doing right now, but very necessary.  I had planned to run again on Wednesday, but my knee was still talking to me and I decided against it.  Once again, I stretched, foam rolled, massaged, and ran through my rehab exercises a few times...firing up those glutes and quads always gives me relief, and yesterday was no different.  I went to bed last night feeling hopeful I could get in some miles today.

I woke up pain free today and didn't feel so much as a twinge of pain all morning, so I threw Jude in the stroller and headed out for a run after Camryn went to school.  I knew the stroller would slow me down, which is exactly what I needed to do today.  I was nervous starting out, but the uneasiness subsided with each passing mile with no pain.  What was supposed to be a tempo run turned into a slow progression, but I finished happy and gained a little confidence that Saturday's run will be ok too.  

Just in case the ol' ITB needed a reminder that running makes us happy.  

Jude gave me a big clap with his man hands and a "YAAAAAAAAY!"  when we got home.  My sentiments exactly.  

Today's task:  1 mile easy, 4 miles @7:56, 1 mile easy

Today's outcome:  9:19, 8:59, 8:34, 8:26

So it wasn't the sub-8 average I was supposed to run today (heck, it was barely a sub-9!), but it was 4 happy miles that didn't hurt.  I'd rather be slow than sitting!!!

You can go with this or you can go with that

Before I go to bed each night, I mentally plan how I'll fit in my workout(s) the following day.  Last night, I made the decision to skip Plyometrics early morning and run on fresh legs after Camryn went to school.  I'd have my nephew with me and would have to drag him along (well, push him along) for the 7 miles on my training plan, but for some reason I thought I was up for the challenge*.

*I believe the farthest I've ever pushed a jogging stroller was 6 miles, which is why I had no reservations about skipping Plyometrics.

Camryn got on the bus, and the thought of pushing a stroller for 7 miles around the neighborhood was less than appealing, so I threw the kid and the stroller in the car and headed toward the oceanfront.  I parked by the boat ramp, did my old lady warm-up, and off we went.  I knew the wind would be tough, but that's the price I was willing to pay for not getting up early to go solo.  

Pushing the stroller over the bridge at Rudee Inlet was something new to me, and I could feel my calves digging in to get the job done.  I also used the hand brake for the first time since acquiring the stroller almost 8 years ago (ahhhh sweet, flat Virginia Beach!).  Realizing I wouldn't go far without a potty stop, I headed back south after crossing the bridge to use the restroom at 2nd Street.  Knowing I wouldn't be turning around until I hit the end of the boardwalk was a little daunting, but it was so beautiful outside that I figured I'd just enjoy the sunshine and salty air and not think about the distance too much.  

Today's task:  Tempo run of 7 miles, alternating between an easy pace and 7:41.

I'll let the numbers set up the story:

Mile 1 - It's been a goal of mine to start out slower on these training runs, and 8:51 is right on track.  Yay.

Mile 2 - Either my potty stop screwed up my app or I am the fastest woman alive.  I think it's the former.

Mile 3 - Feeling like I'm becoming more consistent with feeling an easy pace.

Mile 4 - Keeping good form and feeling my pace is tricky when pushing a stroller, so I was thrilled to see that this mile was right on target.  I'm guessing Mile 2's pace was similar to this one.

Mile 5 - I hit the end of the boardwalk and turned around to run south at some point during mile.  With winds out of the southwest, I was working hard to push that stroller.

Mile 6 - Miserable.  Well, the first half was ok but the second half was tough.  It felt like an all out effort to keep forward momentum going, and my breathing was suffering greatly.  I had no choice but to slow down a good deal for the last 1/4 mile.  

Mile 7 - After guzzling some water at the fountain outside Waterman's (where I really would have rather guzzled an orange crush), I headed back to my car.  By this point, my shorts were eating up my inner thighs and my legs were spent.  Pushing the stroller up the bridge was a killer, and once my app told me I hit 7 miles, I walked the rest of the way back to the car (maybe another 1/4 mile).  So glad that was over!

When I got back to the car, I realized my car keys had fallen off the stroller at some point.  Greeeeeeeat.  I headed back toward the oceanfront, hoping against hope they were nearby and not at, say, 39th Street!  Hope turned into despair when I asked a lady walking toward me if she had seen any keys along the way and she said no.  But the running gods must have wanted me to cool down just a little longer because not too far up the street, my keys were sitting right in the middle of the sidewalk.  Yesssss.  

So, I'm not sure why I thought pushing a jogging stroller 7 miles in the midday sun on a windy day would be more enjoyable than just getting my ass out of bed at 5:15am to go it alone, but despite some nasty chafing and a few moments of panic over lost keys, I guess in some ways it was.  

       Before

After

  

Don't stop believin'

Coming off an exciting performance last weekend, I knew the week to follow would be tricky.  I would somehow have to balance the enthusiasm and confidence I took away from that race with still being smart about my running.  My first run of the week was intervals, and I started the workout with legs that felt a bit heavy and tired.  Since I've been working hard to regain the ability to feel my pace, I decided to just run hard - but not all out - and see what time showed up on my watch. 

Tuesday's task:  4 x 1000m @4:20 (1 mi w/u and c/d, 400m RI)

Tuesday's outcome:  4:21, 4:07, 4:10, 4:17

The first 1000 felt great, and after walking the 400m rest interval, I attacked the next 1000.  It definitely felt harder, so I was glad to see that show up in the numbers on the clock, but was a little annoyed with myself for the big discrepancy.  I was happy that I now had some wiggle room to slow down a little, which I did, but not as much as I should have.  I tend to talk to myself a lot when I run, especially when things get tough, and I was trying my best to convince myself I had one more good 1000 left in my legs.  I caught my breath during that last rest interval, then stared down the path toward the end of that last 1000. Somewhere around 400m, it felt as though the wheels were about to come off.  My form felt loosey goosey, and I had to really focus on keeping my core tight and using my arms efficiently as opposed to flailing them helplessly. I could feel myself slow down to regain good form, but I finished strong and somehow still just under my target pace.  I ended that run with a nice easy cool down, feeling like I had pushed with appropriate intensity, recognized when my form was starting to fall apart, and made the necessary adjustments to stay on track.  

Thursday's run was a tempo, and with the girls having a half day of school, I made the executive decision to push Camryn in the stroller before she got on the bus.  I was pretty certain I wouldn't be able to hit my target pace, but I would base this run on effort instead of time...anyone who has ever pushed a jogging stroller knows how much effort it takes!

Thursday's task: 1 mi easy, 3 mi @7:41, 1 mi easy

Thursday's outcome:  9:17, 7:52, 7:50, 7:48, 8:47*

*Pushing the stroller means having the luxury of my phone without the hassle of holding it.  Love being able to see my splits!

The old me would have run before the sun to avoid pushing the stroller and risk not hitting my pace.   The new and improved version is making early morning strength training just as important as my run and understanding that a good, solid effort is just as good as being on target with time goals, and getting Camryn out in the fresh air was a nice little bonus.  The relative consistency of that tempo run is a reassuring sign that I'm starting to get the hang of this running thing again. 

By Thursday night, my body felt worn out.  Although it's still be a struggle to get up most mornings (my poor snooze button), I feel myself looking forward to Friday yoga more than ever.  And to think when we first started P90X, Ryan and I would skip yoga every week!  I love yoga any day of the week, but it seems that doing it on Fridays helps ease all the tension that has built during the week's tough strength and speed sessions and makes my body feel ready to tackle Saturday's long run.  

Speaking of Saturday's long run, this past week was a post-injury first for me - 7 miles.  Gasp!  I felt excited and of course a little nervous to attempt a distance I haven't done in months.  My training plan called for an 8:11 pace, but I decided to run however I felt like running, pace be damned.  I wore my watch only to see if I'd be able to feel my pace when all was said and done, and I didn't look at it once during those 7 miles.  I had a feeling I would end up in the neighborhood of 8:30, and when I got back home and stopped my watch, I saw this:

It took me an hour and twelve minutes to run 7 miles???  That put me at a 10+ minute pace!  I know I've struggled with feeling my pace lately, but that certainly did not feel like 10+.  I had 11+ minutes on the watch from a previous run...did I forget to reset?  I could have sworn I reset the dang watch, but subtracting 11 minutes would have made more sense.  I stretched for a solid 15 minutes after that run, all the while trying to figure out if I really ran 2 minutes/mile slower than my training plan called for.  Was my brain so disconnected from my body that I couldn't tell I was running 2 minutes/mile slower during that run???  I was in a state of disbelief, wondering what on earth just happened, and then the light bulb turned on.  See that 1 in the top right corner of the display?  Yeah, that's an hour.  The rest is minutes and seconds.  So my time was really 1:01:12.  My pace was really 8:37.  And all was right with the world.  

I am excited about the growth I'm noticing within myself as a runner.  While I still like to be aware of the numbers, it's more to see if my body and my brain are in sync than it is about going faster than I did the last time.  Just a few months ago, I couldn't run one minute and twelve seconds without pain, and now I'm running over an hour and feeling great.  I'm thrilled to be gradually adding on some distance to my long runs, and I'm grateful my body has responded well so far.  Staying healthy and actually enjoying my runs are my top priorities.

After the morning I had today when nothing seemed to go my way, I was concerned I may not be in line with my priorities - for no good reason, I was certain my luck with the intervals I had planned would be as lousy as the rest of the morning.  It was a picture perfect day, but there were bad omens everywhere I looked.  A dead bunny on the side of the road.  A 1/4 mile stretch that literally smelled like shit.  An ambulance coming my way.  Two vultures on a rooftop, staring down at me and making the most terrifying noises.  I managed to convince myself they were distant relatives of those magpies that swoop and peck people's heads in Australia and were ready to have their way with my skull.  Once I got past them with head still attached to my neck, I finally saw a good omen...at least a half dozen bluebirds flying around the crepe myrtles I was running past.  Now clearly I have a bit of a fear of birds (totally justifiable, in my humble opinion!), but these brightly hued little critters reminded me of Peggy and brought a smile to my face.  

Today's task:  1600 @7:08, 1200 @5:15, 800 @3:26, 400 @1:41 (1 mile w/u, 1 mile c/d, 400m RI)

Today's outcome:  1600 @6:41, 122 @5:05, 800 @3:17, 400 @1:53* (walked 400 RI)

*Not sure why the 400 was so far off when I came in under on all the other distances, but it was still a solid run and I'll take it!  

This week's tempo is a doozie - 7 miles total, alternating between slow and fast every mile.  I haven't decided when or where I'll do it, but I'm excited to see if these legs are up for the challenge.