Running at Home; My old Home

Being home for Thanksgiving, I have been running in Michigan. These runs have lead me to a few realizations:

1. On Wednesday I ran on the treadmill because it was raining and snowing like cats and dogs. This treadmill is probably over 20 years old. It was purchased for my Papa when he got emphysema and needed to exercise. He passed away when I was 8. I was moving on that thing; or so I thought. I had covered up the screen with my shirt, so I wasn't focusing on time. When my 40 mins was up, I figured I had to have hit the 4 miles I was aiming for. The screen said 2.8. I was horrified. I was huffing and puffing and figured there was no way I had run only 2.8 miles. Eventually I gave up being upset, and figured it was either just old and didn't keep distance very well, or maybe I just don't gauge myself very well. Then, I woke up Thursday morning. I thought my hips were going to fall off. Oh. My. God. They were killing me. I totally have a love-hate relationship with running, but that morning, I realized I have a complete hate with the treadmill.

2. On Friday and today I ran on the streets. So much better. But, it has not gotten above about 30 degrees any of the days I've been here. It is COLD. While I've got all the warm clothes, base layers, etc, etc, I am not a fan of the cold.

3. Finally, today, I ran in my neighborhood that I grew up in. It is a 1.1 mile loop, with two courts off the sides to get a little more in. I was looking to run about 2.5 miles, which I did. As I ran, fighting the bitter cold wind and air temperature, what kept me going was memories. I would look around at the homes that I had trick-or-treated at. The ones with the best candy. Or the place where we used to get "sliver rocks", aka shale, and break them up into pieces and ride our bikes with them in huge bags back and forth. And the place where I flipped over my handle bars on my bike trying to ride no handed and busted up my face and needed many stitches to fix it. those memories got me through the run today. I usually have a hard time thinking about anything other than the pain that I'm feeling in my lungs, or my desire to be done with the run, but today, I could go somewhere else.

At Christmas I will come home again, and at that time it might be much too cold for me to run outside. We will see. I might be resorting to that treadmill again. But, I know if I do, that there are lots of places and memories to keep working on.

Turkey? Before Thanskgiving

Sports always came easy for me. Always. As a child, everyone would tell me how good I was at whatever sport I chose to participate in, and it was what kept me going. It felt good. Six months ago, when I made the decision (I'm still deciding whether it was smart or very stupid!) to run a half marathon in January, I found a sport which came extremely difficult for me. It has been an uphill battle all the way.

With just about two months to go until the Miami Half Marathon, I have hit this extreme wall. I think it is a mental block. I can't get beyond 6 miles on my long runs. I can run up to 6 miles, but about the time I hit the turn around point or where I know a 6 mile run would be in the middle, I start to go downhill. The last two days, I have realized that I am running too fast. Yesterday I did a 3.5 miler in 8:44 minute miles, which is WAY faster than I should be. It didn't feel that fast; AT ALL. Then today, I did 5.8 miles, my long run, which should be close to race pace of 10:15ish at 9:49 and that was with 2 1 minute walk breaks, which means I was running much faster when I was actually running. I have no ability to pace myself.

So, this week, I am going to spend some time planning out pacing for my runs and trying to actually hit those marks. Maybe getting faster means I should lower my expectations, but until I can get beyond this 6 mile block, I think I need to slow down and actually run the mileage. Amidst my trip home to Michigan, Thanksgiving, and all the rest this week, that is going to be my goal. If I am going to do this, then I am going to do it full throttle. I don't do things half assed. Ever.

On a totally separate note, when I was coming up the street, almost home, I had to take a slight detour into my complex. Never in a million years did I expect to see what I saw; three wild turkeys, smack in the middle of the sidewalk on my way home. It was crazy. They were looking a little scary, so after stopping for about 15 seconds to see if they'd move, I decided it was safer to make a right turn and take the cut through. I guess it is almost Thanksgiving after all. They were probably safer there than elsewhere.