August brings with it a heady humidity, the sounds of crickets of the night, and the beginning of an earlier nightfall. It's a heavy month drawing summer to a close, contrasting with the lightness of Spring, August is the culmination of growth, wildflowers, tomatoes, corn, all offered up in the fading light.
Running in August proves challenging, in terms of heat and humidity. It calls for short distance and not the long hauls of early spring, fall, and winter, yet even at a short distance I can find myself dehydrated, spent.
Last week I started to increase my overall mileage with my sights set on the Ikea Half Marathon a few weeks into September. I have been working on my speed pretty consistently but have been missing the distance, so I decided to work some more miles into my routine. This hasn't come easy, especially with the demands of speed work and steps. I continue though, because I know I will adapt, I know sooner rather than later I will be gliding along 13.1 miles and be glad for the work of it now. Sometimes when I push myself beyond my limits of tolerance, beyond what's comfortable the world comes into a brighter focus. The pop of a black eyed susan along the path, the brilliant yellow against a see of faded out greens and browns reminds me for all the pain, fatigue, struggle there is and will always be beauty and strength within and without.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Small Steps
The process of change, of strengthening and quickening is an interesting animal. Perhaps animal is the wrong word -- what I mean is that it's rarely a linear progression from point a to point b. You get out there, log the miles, tough out a hard speed workout and some days you still seem to be going backwards, and some days it feels completely effortless.
This past weekend I ran the Run for Roch, which was a challenging, hilly 5k in scenic Mt. Washington. I haven't been up to Mt. Washington in ages -- the view really is spectacular, and it was wonderful to start and end things overlooking the city. I pushed through all the hills, despite the feeling that I was going to puke after mile one, and almost stopping to walk on the daunting McArdle ascent and made it through ok. I came in at a respectable 24:04 -- which for me is a personal record.
Still, the progress I am making feels like it's moving at snails pace. Even though speed isn't strong suit I struggle with my internal brat who throws a fit that increasing my speed isn't easier -- even though it hasn't been long since I began this shift in focus. It helps to put thing in perspective, it helps to realize that we don't always have big, long gains, that their is no perfect end result, that sometimes frustration is as vital a part of the training process as success. If this was easy, it would be easy and not as worthwhile of a pursuit. So I will stay here, and continue my work even when it feels futile, even when there are a million things I'd rather be doing, when I feel like I'm moving backwards instead of forwards. I do it because the choice is between staying static or growing, and I choose growth, no matter how messy the process.
This past weekend I ran the Run for Roch, which was a challenging, hilly 5k in scenic Mt. Washington. I haven't been up to Mt. Washington in ages -- the view really is spectacular, and it was wonderful to start and end things overlooking the city. I pushed through all the hills, despite the feeling that I was going to puke after mile one, and almost stopping to walk on the daunting McArdle ascent and made it through ok. I came in at a respectable 24:04 -- which for me is a personal record.
Still, the progress I am making feels like it's moving at snails pace. Even though speed isn't strong suit I struggle with my internal brat who throws a fit that increasing my speed isn't easier -- even though it hasn't been long since I began this shift in focus. It helps to put thing in perspective, it helps to realize that we don't always have big, long gains, that their is no perfect end result, that sometimes frustration is as vital a part of the training process as success. If this was easy, it would be easy and not as worthwhile of a pursuit. So I will stay here, and continue my work even when it feels futile, even when there are a million things I'd rather be doing, when I feel like I'm moving backwards instead of forwards. I do it because the choice is between staying static or growing, and I choose growth, no matter how messy the process.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Ascending
A couple of months ago, in an attempt to train up for the Rachel Carson challenge I started climbing the stairs in the University of Pittsburgh's Cathedral of Learning. Apparently this is a popular activity for athletes of all strips, particularly in the winter months when Pittsburgh's weather ravages even the most hardy.
For those who aren't familiar the Cathedral of Learning is a gothic cathedral on Pitt's campus that houses classrooms, labs, and the like, 42 stories of fun:
Now, suffice to say the summer is not the most popular month for stair climbers, the building offers little ventilation and the conditions outside beg even the most sedentary to come out and play. Still, there is something that calls to be about the steps, the challenge of 36 flights, the sense of accomplishment when I get to the top, the sweat proliferation, perhaps a bit of pure insanity. Needless to say I, along with several like minded partners in crime, have made it a Wednesday night standing plan. While it's tough, and not the most convenient, I can feel myself getting stronger week after week.
Besides the physical, this workout has had an effect on my psyche as well, with elevators and stairs making almost nightly appearances in my dreams. I believe it's one of those situations where the act of ascending stairs connects me to a more ethereal form of ascension or growth. The practice of going up, step by step, until I reach the top and returning to the bottom just to ascend again serves as a moving meditation. Bringing myself to the Cathedral, week after week forges a connection between my body and spirit, the literal manifestation of bringing myself to a place of ascension.
For those who aren't familiar the Cathedral of Learning is a gothic cathedral on Pitt's campus that houses classrooms, labs, and the like, 42 stories of fun:
Now, suffice to say the summer is not the most popular month for stair climbers, the building offers little ventilation and the conditions outside beg even the most sedentary to come out and play. Still, there is something that calls to be about the steps, the challenge of 36 flights, the sense of accomplishment when I get to the top, the sweat proliferation, perhaps a bit of pure insanity. Needless to say I, along with several like minded partners in crime, have made it a Wednesday night standing plan. While it's tough, and not the most convenient, I can feel myself getting stronger week after week.
Besides the physical, this workout has had an effect on my psyche as well, with elevators and stairs making almost nightly appearances in my dreams. I believe it's one of those situations where the act of ascending stairs connects me to a more ethereal form of ascension or growth. The practice of going up, step by step, until I reach the top and returning to the bottom just to ascend again serves as a moving meditation. Bringing myself to the Cathedral, week after week forges a connection between my body and spirit, the literal manifestation of bringing myself to a place of ascension.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Summer of Speed
Though I seldom sit still I am far from speedy. Constant motion is a part of my nature, blame it on being high strung, high metabolism, an unnatural zest for life --- whatever and no matter what I can attribute it to to it is there. It's one of the reasons running comes so naturally, as a way to channel this energy and exhaust myself to a comfortable resting point. I run relatively quickly for someone of my stature but I am by no means a sprinter. Not only am I not built for it in a physical sense, my mind and will have followed suit. I just don't like to run fast.
After a successful marathon and months upon months of training I took some time off. I still run and am running, but am far from logging 30+ mile weeks. Rest is a vital part of any training program and a necessary part of the cycle. Summer being the season of the 5k, I gravitated towards running these shorter races, not out of any propensity for running them but rather out of the desire to be among my 'people'. I love the excitement of race day or evening, the nerves, the first steps into the groove, the volunteers enthusiastically handing out paper cups of water, the last push at the end, the kitschy door prizes - it all makes it worth the torment of running short and fast.
For some reason pushing myself to my limit endurance wise is an entirely different animal then pushing myself to my limit speed wise, and I'm not sure why that is, it just is. Yet, I know that as in most pursuits, the practice you most avoid is often the one that you most need, that will push you to the next level. So this summer, I have decided to focus on my speed, with the goal of shaving a minute off of my 5k PR. It's been slow going (hah!) , or slow on the uptake, one of the reasons I am writing here in an attempt to keep myself honest. Here's to a speedy rest of the summer.
After a successful marathon and months upon months of training I took some time off. I still run and am running, but am far from logging 30+ mile weeks. Rest is a vital part of any training program and a necessary part of the cycle. Summer being the season of the 5k, I gravitated towards running these shorter races, not out of any propensity for running them but rather out of the desire to be among my 'people'. I love the excitement of race day or evening, the nerves, the first steps into the groove, the volunteers enthusiastically handing out paper cups of water, the last push at the end, the kitschy door prizes - it all makes it worth the torment of running short and fast.
For some reason pushing myself to my limit endurance wise is an entirely different animal then pushing myself to my limit speed wise, and I'm not sure why that is, it just is. Yet, I know that as in most pursuits, the practice you most avoid is often the one that you most need, that will push you to the next level. So this summer, I have decided to focus on my speed, with the goal of shaving a minute off of my 5k PR. It's been slow going (hah!) , or slow on the uptake, one of the reasons I am writing here in an attempt to keep myself honest. Here's to a speedy rest of the summer.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Diversifying
I have been away from this blog for a bit, due in part to an increased workload and in part to a break from all things running. Sometimes it's good to just take a break, rest, and regroup, and that's what I've been doing for the past month.
Coming off this marathon free of injury, it took me a lot less time to get back on the trail (or the road as the case may be). I have been logging runs of an hour or less, getting back in touch with what makes me want to run in the first place -- drops of dew resting on my eyelashes during an early morning run, the feeling of strength after a fast burst, and simply the time alone with my thoughts.
I am planning to do the Rachel Carson challenge next weekend, which is 34 miles of the Rachel Carson trail in one day. It sold out this year before I registered, so I am planning to try for stand by and hope I get in. I feel somewhat unprepared for this endeavor, I know I have the endurance but worry about my overall strength, especially when it comes to extreme uphill and downhill climbs. I started climbing the stairs at the Cathedral of Learning in preparation, which is quite the workout. I also have been trying to get out on my bike more often, in addition to the actual training hikes.
So I am planning to take the challenge as it comes, and use it as a springboard for my next endeavor. The warmth of summer brings so many possibilities, long days, sunshine, and hours to melt by the side of the pool. I plan to squeeze as much as I can from these heady, fleeting months, and come out stronger than ever.
Coming off this marathon free of injury, it took me a lot less time to get back on the trail (or the road as the case may be). I have been logging runs of an hour or less, getting back in touch with what makes me want to run in the first place -- drops of dew resting on my eyelashes during an early morning run, the feeling of strength after a fast burst, and simply the time alone with my thoughts.
I am planning to do the Rachel Carson challenge next weekend, which is 34 miles of the Rachel Carson trail in one day. It sold out this year before I registered, so I am planning to try for stand by and hope I get in. I feel somewhat unprepared for this endeavor, I know I have the endurance but worry about my overall strength, especially when it comes to extreme uphill and downhill climbs. I started climbing the stairs at the Cathedral of Learning in preparation, which is quite the workout. I also have been trying to get out on my bike more often, in addition to the actual training hikes.
So I am planning to take the challenge as it comes, and use it as a springboard for my next endeavor. The warmth of summer brings so many possibilities, long days, sunshine, and hours to melt by the side of the pool. I plan to squeeze as much as I can from these heady, fleeting months, and come out stronger than ever.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Bouncing Back
A week and a few days out from running the marathon, I'm feeling pretty much like my old self (sans heavy training that is). I was careful this time around to take it extremely easy in the hours following the marathon, as well as the days following. I did not rock an ice bath after running, a spray of cold in the shower was all I could take.
The pain has faded gradually, and I have managed a few easy runs in the past week. My body feels relatively good, I detect no signs of injury though my body is definitely in a weakened state. The biggest side effect running the marathon seems to be a sudden spike in my nervous energy. I am so used to running regularly that the sudden lack of activity has left a void. I am starting to fill it with biking, swimming, and on the home front baking and organizing. Using this recovery time to round things out.
Mentally I am evening out as well. The day after I hit a tremendous low, which also happened to me after the Atlanta marathon. I thought, the first time it happened, that it was due to the stress of traveling, not getting proper rest, but it happened the same way at home, in bed, with a significant difference in stress level. It leads me to believe that it comes from a chemical / hormonal place, which makes sense considering what builds up in the course of a marathon. I felt tremendously broken down and weepy, a sharp emotional weakness. The worst passed in a few hours but it took me, and is taking me a while to get my equilibrium back, as much as I feel good and successful, I have lost the routine and endorphins of training. I remind myself that this is as much a part of the process as all those miles I logged, and sometimes slowing down and takings easy can be as hard as putting forth my full physical effort.
I am using this time to rest, review, round out, and plan for what's next, taking the time to savor my accomplishment.
The pain has faded gradually, and I have managed a few easy runs in the past week. My body feels relatively good, I detect no signs of injury though my body is definitely in a weakened state. The biggest side effect running the marathon seems to be a sudden spike in my nervous energy. I am so used to running regularly that the sudden lack of activity has left a void. I am starting to fill it with biking, swimming, and on the home front baking and organizing. Using this recovery time to round things out.
Mentally I am evening out as well. The day after I hit a tremendous low, which also happened to me after the Atlanta marathon. I thought, the first time it happened, that it was due to the stress of traveling, not getting proper rest, but it happened the same way at home, in bed, with a significant difference in stress level. It leads me to believe that it comes from a chemical / hormonal place, which makes sense considering what builds up in the course of a marathon. I felt tremendously broken down and weepy, a sharp emotional weakness. The worst passed in a few hours but it took me, and is taking me a while to get my equilibrium back, as much as I feel good and successful, I have lost the routine and endorphins of training. I remind myself that this is as much a part of the process as all those miles I logged, and sometimes slowing down and takings easy can be as hard as putting forth my full physical effort.
I am using this time to rest, review, round out, and plan for what's next, taking the time to savor my accomplishment.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Pittsburgh Marathon '09
It has been a little less than a week since I ran the Pittsburgh marathon, and I've spent it resting and recovering. I can proudly say that I accomplished my goal of a sub-four hour marathon, coming in at 3:58:02, with a smile on my face and extreme fatigue in my legs. I did it!
Marathon weekend began with a visit from one of my oldest, nearest and dearest friends Paki, who flew in for the occasion from Chicago. We went to high school together and have remained in touch since then, which includes a summer he couch surfed at my place in Atlanta which managed to strengthen our bond immeasurably. Needless to say, he's the type of guy you want around when you are pushing yourself to the limit and not quite sure what's going to happen, not only is he an excellent support system, he's also great at taking photos (coming soon to this blog).
I met up with my running buddy and her sister, who came in from LA, on Saturday morning to collect our packets and check out the expo. There's something about an expo combined with previous pre race jitters that just makes me want to shop, shop, shop. I came away with a new pair of Race Ready shorts, more GU than a reasonable person needs, and a sweet Pittsburgh marathon t-shirt. We reconveined later for a shared night before dinner -- full of tasty foraged morels, pasta, veggies, and some fancy Klondikes for dessert.
I headed to bed early that night, though my nerves did not ease me into a gentle sleep. I woke up before my alarm at 5:06 am, ready to fuel up and prepare for the day. I made Paki and I a hearty breakfast of oatmeal with raisins and toasted pecans, along with coffee and a banana to charge up my potassium stores. My best friend who ran the half met us at my place and together we made our way around the road closures to the start.
There's nothing like the prerace atmosphere -- folks collective nerves gathered together on the City streets. I felt a mixture of disbelief, excitement, and terror, was I really about to do this?
We were able to meet up with everyone we planned to - saying goodbye 10 minutes before the race start to find a place in the sea of runners. We settled into the 8:30 pace group, right in front of two women who were sponsored by Dunkin Donuts, I'm not sure how they got that gig, but it sounds like a good one to me. I contained my nervousness and tried to remain calm and focused, and before I knew it, we were off.
The race started on Smallman, in the Strip District, which is probably one of the widest streets in Pittsburgh. This made for a very smooth start as we didn't have to bob and weave through a bunch of folks to reach a comfortable pace. The group we were in seemed about right and we road the adrenaline until we got into a groove, passing through the familiar streets of Lower Lawrenceville.
After Lawrenceville and bit more of the Strip we turned into the Northside, where I live and do a good bit of training. I was thrilled to run through my 'hood, that is until I tripped over someone's errant hydration bottle and hit the pavement. Everyone around me let out a gasp (including me, I believe). Luckily it left me with a road rash and little else, I brushed myself off and continued, a little brush burn was not going to slow me down. We headed out into Manchester, which turned out to be the most desolate stretch. It was early and not an incredibly populous residential area to begin with. I turned inward and used some energy for the first major grade onto the West End Bridge.
The Southside was burgeoning with people, bands and lots of loud cheerers. The sudden flurry of activity caused me to become disoriented, and perhaps speed up, and I hit my first real low point of the race. I hung in, sucking down a Gu and just focusing on getting through. It was rough, but by the time I got to Oakland I felt better, and ready to tackle the only major hill on the course. A light rain began to fall, which I saw as a gift, cooling my way up the hill. I made it up and got a push from the accomplishment which stayed with me until Shadyside.
I met up with my friends Heather and Nat around mile 15 and picked up some more Gu, which I really needed at that point, Jess' sister met us about a quarter mile from there with more, and I happily stored it away for the tough miles ahead. Things began to get a little hazy at this point, as we both dug in and dug deep. We ran down Penn, rounding the corner in Regent Square to lots of cheers and some fab homemade signs.
We continued on, through Homewood and lot of folks cheering us on from their doorways -- I really enjoyed spectators who pumped up the jam from there cars, homespun entertainment on the fly is always appreciated. Coming up through East Liberty and into Highland Park I really began to feel the burn on my quads. I could still run, but every footfall caused me pain. I focused on just keeping going, the pain I felt was nothing to sideline me, just the natural result of the 20 miles I ran at a decent pace.
One of my favorite moments of the race was right after the Taza D'Oro party in Highland Park. There was a jazz band playing, and as I rounded the corner I heard 'It's Ellen Maddock, give it up for Ellen Maddock' which made me smile from ear to ear. I went to church growing up with one of the performers, and he not only recognized me, but called me out, hearing my name and all the applause at that point was second to none.
I kept on trucking, finally making it to Bloomfield and the downhill -- which is the promised land for many runners. I struggled, as it was downhill and I could feel the impact with every stride. I took the hill slow and steady trying to just hang on until the flats of the Strip and the finish.
I made it with the cheering on of good friends (complete with pom-poms) in Bloomfield and again at mile 25. I focused and tried to ignore the pain and before I knew it I was rounding the corner to the finish and tearing up. The crowd was simply amazing, and a huge smile broke out on my face when I saw that I was going to make it in under four hours. Amazing.
I hobbled through the exit chute, gathering sustenance and waited for Jess -- she came through not too soon after -- we got our photo taken and then went off to find our people. I was met by a group of friends and my brother, and was somewhat overwhelmed with flowers and a beautiful 26.2 necklace which was a gift from some of my nearest and dearest. After lots of hugs, changing into dry clothes and bandaging of a pretty nasty blister, I parted ways with Jess and her crew onto home, a shower, and food.
There's not much I would do to change this race experience. It was wonderful. I pushed myself pretty hard, and used everything I had, which is exactly what I set out to do. I plan on savoring the feeling of accomplishment for a good while, taking it easy, and then setting my sights on what's next. I am ready.
Marathon weekend began with a visit from one of my oldest, nearest and dearest friends Paki, who flew in for the occasion from Chicago. We went to high school together and have remained in touch since then, which includes a summer he couch surfed at my place in Atlanta which managed to strengthen our bond immeasurably. Needless to say, he's the type of guy you want around when you are pushing yourself to the limit and not quite sure what's going to happen, not only is he an excellent support system, he's also great at taking photos (coming soon to this blog).
I met up with my running buddy and her sister, who came in from LA, on Saturday morning to collect our packets and check out the expo. There's something about an expo combined with previous pre race jitters that just makes me want to shop, shop, shop. I came away with a new pair of Race Ready shorts, more GU than a reasonable person needs, and a sweet Pittsburgh marathon t-shirt. We reconveined later for a shared night before dinner -- full of tasty foraged morels, pasta, veggies, and some fancy Klondikes for dessert.
I headed to bed early that night, though my nerves did not ease me into a gentle sleep. I woke up before my alarm at 5:06 am, ready to fuel up and prepare for the day. I made Paki and I a hearty breakfast of oatmeal with raisins and toasted pecans, along with coffee and a banana to charge up my potassium stores. My best friend who ran the half met us at my place and together we made our way around the road closures to the start.
There's nothing like the prerace atmosphere -- folks collective nerves gathered together on the City streets. I felt a mixture of disbelief, excitement, and terror, was I really about to do this?
We were able to meet up with everyone we planned to - saying goodbye 10 minutes before the race start to find a place in the sea of runners. We settled into the 8:30 pace group, right in front of two women who were sponsored by Dunkin Donuts, I'm not sure how they got that gig, but it sounds like a good one to me. I contained my nervousness and tried to remain calm and focused, and before I knew it, we were off.
The race started on Smallman, in the Strip District, which is probably one of the widest streets in Pittsburgh. This made for a very smooth start as we didn't have to bob and weave through a bunch of folks to reach a comfortable pace. The group we were in seemed about right and we road the adrenaline until we got into a groove, passing through the familiar streets of Lower Lawrenceville.
After Lawrenceville and bit more of the Strip we turned into the Northside, where I live and do a good bit of training. I was thrilled to run through my 'hood, that is until I tripped over someone's errant hydration bottle and hit the pavement. Everyone around me let out a gasp (including me, I believe). Luckily it left me with a road rash and little else, I brushed myself off and continued, a little brush burn was not going to slow me down. We headed out into Manchester, which turned out to be the most desolate stretch. It was early and not an incredibly populous residential area to begin with. I turned inward and used some energy for the first major grade onto the West End Bridge.
The Southside was burgeoning with people, bands and lots of loud cheerers. The sudden flurry of activity caused me to become disoriented, and perhaps speed up, and I hit my first real low point of the race. I hung in, sucking down a Gu and just focusing on getting through. It was rough, but by the time I got to Oakland I felt better, and ready to tackle the only major hill on the course. A light rain began to fall, which I saw as a gift, cooling my way up the hill. I made it up and got a push from the accomplishment which stayed with me until Shadyside.
I met up with my friends Heather and Nat around mile 15 and picked up some more Gu, which I really needed at that point, Jess' sister met us about a quarter mile from there with more, and I happily stored it away for the tough miles ahead. Things began to get a little hazy at this point, as we both dug in and dug deep. We ran down Penn, rounding the corner in Regent Square to lots of cheers and some fab homemade signs.
We continued on, through Homewood and lot of folks cheering us on from their doorways -- I really enjoyed spectators who pumped up the jam from there cars, homespun entertainment on the fly is always appreciated. Coming up through East Liberty and into Highland Park I really began to feel the burn on my quads. I could still run, but every footfall caused me pain. I focused on just keeping going, the pain I felt was nothing to sideline me, just the natural result of the 20 miles I ran at a decent pace.
One of my favorite moments of the race was right after the Taza D'Oro party in Highland Park. There was a jazz band playing, and as I rounded the corner I heard 'It's Ellen Maddock, give it up for Ellen Maddock' which made me smile from ear to ear. I went to church growing up with one of the performers, and he not only recognized me, but called me out, hearing my name and all the applause at that point was second to none.
I kept on trucking, finally making it to Bloomfield and the downhill -- which is the promised land for many runners. I struggled, as it was downhill and I could feel the impact with every stride. I took the hill slow and steady trying to just hang on until the flats of the Strip and the finish.
I made it with the cheering on of good friends (complete with pom-poms) in Bloomfield and again at mile 25. I focused and tried to ignore the pain and before I knew it I was rounding the corner to the finish and tearing up. The crowd was simply amazing, and a huge smile broke out on my face when I saw that I was going to make it in under four hours. Amazing.
I hobbled through the exit chute, gathering sustenance and waited for Jess -- she came through not too soon after -- we got our photo taken and then went off to find our people. I was met by a group of friends and my brother, and was somewhat overwhelmed with flowers and a beautiful 26.2 necklace which was a gift from some of my nearest and dearest. After lots of hugs, changing into dry clothes and bandaging of a pretty nasty blister, I parted ways with Jess and her crew onto home, a shower, and food.
There's not much I would do to change this race experience. It was wonderful. I pushed myself pretty hard, and used everything I had, which is exactly what I set out to do. I plan on savoring the feeling of accomplishment for a good while, taking it easy, and then setting my sights on what's next. I am ready.
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