dashing through the...sun

For the past month I meant to get around to writing a blog specifically about running during this years epic snow storm. I even went as far to come up with the title 'dashing through the snow' and did mental outlines at various points. Turns out it was not to be, and I find myself writing now that things have thawed out, despite the chill of late winter the sun is shining and melting the remaining snow piles down to dirty city streams and crunchy ice layers.

I am entering the second phase of marathon training and things are going well. I managed to run as best I could during the month of February, and counted myself lucky that I live just a few blocks from my gym -- at points I felt like I was working out more than I would have without the snow fall. Jess and I ran the annual Spring Thaw, and I saw an improvement in my time from last year which I was pleased about, but I was short of the pace I need to qualify for Boston this year. It made me realize that though the goal of qualifing is a good one, and it helps me amp up and stay on track there is the possibility that it will not happen this race. It threw me for a loop, but this is all part of the training process, all part of setting an ambitious goal. I have made peace with the fact that though I am still striving to achieve a 3:40 marathon I will be ok if I fall short. 3:40 is a stars align type of a goal, more realistically I seek to improve my time from last years marathon and truth be told finishing another marathon, despite any adverse circumstances will be something to celebrate.

Watching the Olympics brought up a lot of 'what if I don't make it' feelings for me, seeing atheletes at the top of their sport, with so much riding on this one competition falling short -- well it made me feel scared about my own chances of achieving my goal / dream. Perspective. It's hard to keep sometimes, and a balancing act of pushing myself, motivating myself and resting and letting go. I do care about the result. If I didn't care about the result, the goal wouldn't motivate me, but at certain point, with all the motivation that the goal provides it's imperative to let go and let God. Running gives me joy and pleasure (and yes, pain too), it focuses me, provides me with an outlet as well as a link to a higher state of being. The goal is important but less so for a single moment of achievement then the way it enriches the journey.

A Fine Balance

It's an all to familiar feeling the ache of a quad muscle, the days later reminder of too much, too fast, too steep. This weekend's long run featured a punishing hill which I knew would be a challenge, somehow when you are are out doing a run anything seems possible. It's not until the next day when over-doing-it comes home to roost.

I often feel this way after a race so the feeling is not foreign to me but during training it's a signal of doing too much. Over extending during training taxes the body and makes it harder to hit the next week's workouts. I strive to do just enough to increase my fitness without crossing the line to wearing myself out. The balancing act is one of the hardest things about marathon training. Still, I do the best that I can with a moving target the shifting terrain, my fitness level, even chemical differences in my body from day to day.

So, I took a complete rest day yesterday and plan to a short recovery run this evening. I usually do speed work on Monday but have decided to hold off until my muscles feel 100%. As with other aspects of life intensity must be interspersed with relaxation or burnout follows. I am listening to my body and healing so that I can run another day.

Inflow and Outflow

I am not sure how much I've chronicled this on the blog, but I have taken up hooping. Much like when I started to run it's an activity that just feels right to me, a discovery of a passion that has been untapped for a long, long time. I used to spend hours twirling the hoop around my waist when I was a kid, loving it's rhythm, the circularity of it all, the blend of concentration and mindlessness.

In hooping, around the waist there is a way that feels more comfortable, a favored direction which is the inflow and a more awkward direction which is outflow. Cultivating both is important in hooping -- to achieve balance and strength.

I like the concept of inflow and outflow, as it expands to include many things from the concrete breathing in and out to the broader theory of an essential self and a shadow self. Inflow feels right and natural and it's a satisfying place to rest, while outflow feels different, precarious, it takes more concentration, more exaggerated movements, more risks.

In terms of running, keeping this idea in mind helps me with balance. Believe it or not it is more difficult for my to reign in my distance and/or speed then to expand on it, it's hard for me to take it easy. I feel my prospects of success overall are demonstrated on each run, so I tend to go for the gusto and find myself sorely disappointed when I don't measure up -- this is one of the psychological issues I hope to ease this go round. Inflow and outflow, surrendering to ease and embracing challenge, this will help me to maintain balance in my journey to the finish line and beyond.

Preparing

Last night over some seriously delicious takeout from Piccolo Forno (pizza with a fresh egg in the middle, yes please) my running partner and I plotted out our training for the Pittsburgh marathon. It made me realize just how easy I've been taking it, and that's a good thing because I believe this training will take a good portion of what I have physically and mentally. Well rested and healthy I have more resources to draw from.

Keeping in mind that we never follow a training plan 100% it is stil quitel daunting. I have been running about 4 times a week, no serious distance, and doing cross training another two days a week. I had it in my mind that marathon training entailed just a simple amp up of a long weekend run, perhaps a bit of speed. I hadn't considered that what I consider 'long' now is 8 miles, not the significant two hour run slated for next weekend.

I know this is not an easy endeavor, after all this will be my 3rd marathon, so I'm a bit past the novice phase when it comes to training. Still, I feel as though I blocked out how difficult it would be, vaguely remembering long run fatigue and sore muscles and little else.

I am anxious and a bit scared, and I plan to use that energy to propel myself forward. Work it out week by week, run by run, mile by mile. Tackling the plan one day at a time, and playing close attention to the signals my body sends, making sure to balance my efforts with good quality rest and nourishment. I'm ready to do this, shaky as I may feel, next week starts the journey.

Endings, Beginnings, and the Year Ahead

As 2009 winds down I am taking a bit of a break from my usual running schedule. Partly due to circumstance, wind, snow, and ice and limited access to a tread mill and partly just to give myself a respite before full training begins for the 2010 Pittsburgh Marathon.

I have no complaints and quite a few successes in terms of running this past year. I made my goal of a sub 4 hour marathon. I completed a smattering of 5k races over the summer, and managed to get my time under 24 minutes. I sustained no major injuries and recovered well from all of my various races.

I took some time in the past week to ice skate, practice some pretty intense yoga -- which opened me up and also reminded me how much running shape does not correlate to every sport shape. My endurance and aerobic capacity carry me through, but the next day(s) my under used muscles scream. It reminds me both to consider my limitations and to work on my well rounded-ness, something difficult to do during marathon training but certainly possible in small ways.

2010 brings new goals and challenges, challenges that are both exciting and fear inducing. I am dedicating this year to the spirit of trust, building up trust in myself, my abilities, in those I love, and more widely in the provisions of the universe.

I wish everyone a happy and healthy New Year, that the year ahead is filled with love and a spirit of adventure, treasuring the journey as much as the destination. Peace.

Warmth from Within

Last night I went out on a solo run, I was in the mood to run outside despite the frigid temperature and early darkness, I wanted to do some distance without having to face the monotony of an hour on the treadmill. I dressed carefully, layering, adding a little extra to guard against the wind the chilled me to the bone on my bike ride home. I picked up my ipod which I haven't used in a while and found the battery dead. Dead. Just great! Well, I used to run all the time solo without it, so I decided to head off with only my thoughts to distract me.

I stepped out the door and it was indeed cold, yet those first few strides activated me. There is something thrilling about running in the dark and the cold, a sense of conquering and overcoming the elements. I decided on a route around my neighborhood, sticking with major roads for light and safety. I found myself craving a jaunt through Riverview as well, so I worked out a way to incorporate the park. After my initial climb up Brighton I got into a groove, I felt my blood flowing and warming my extremities, I felt the freedom of simply being and being on the run, without music or conversation. Moving myself through the silence of the dark.

My run last night reacquainted me with what I fell in love with about running in the first place. Heart pumping, legs stretching forward, the sky open above me, relatively few souls around, I felt connected to myself and my environment. Creating warmth from within, each stride a heart opener.

Opening

In this season of training-less-ness I have taken to practicing yoga. Now, I am not exactly a stranger to yoga, I have taken the odd class or workshop, but I have always stopped short of committing to a regular practice. I found every excuse, money, patience, time, 'I need to be active, the pace of yoga is too slow' I would say, but really it came down to fear. Would I be able to keep up with the class? I lived with the anxiety of doing it wrong and the anxiety of needing help, adjustment. Better to just avoid it, eh? After all, it was not as if I was neglecting my physical health.

I am not quite sure what gave me that final push -- but I decided to go, to a class at the local Y. It was a hot summer day. It turned out the usual teacher was away on vacation, which was fortuitous -- she did not know I was a new student and I could blend in, any awkwardness disguised by the new situation all around. I arrived at class dry mouthed and nervous -- but I left the class with a renewed sense of calm and well being. As trite as it sounds, the very thing I was so resistant too was the very thing I needed.

Now, missing yoga sets my week into an unbalanced state. I am learning, slowly, and learning to work with my bodies quirks, appreciate my certain grace-less-ness, and with that and in that the strength of my body and my spirit. Letting go, piece by piece, of that sense of perfection, of worth in perfection, letting go of my facade and feeding that energy into my body into my practice. I still run fast, work on speed but yoga allows me to open and stretch myself, little by little, sometimes imperceptibly. I am learning that I need not fear the quiet and calm.