I jumped into Hal Higdon’s novice-level half marathon training at week eleven, because that’s what lined up with the next 5K I’m doing. Today was either a 2 mile run or cross-training. I feel like I did both.
Now, having lived in New England my entire life, and not more than 1/2 from the ocean for all this time, you’d think I might know something about when tides go in and out. But no. For some reason, I thought the time they went low was fairly constant, but today I learned that at 5:14AM, the tide is pretty damned high at the beach. Can you say, “run in gooshy deep sliding sand?”
Today, my daughter is two.
A lot of people in the running blog community have been talking about goals lately, so I thought I’d take a whack at mine.
Because I’m still in a weight loss process, I tend to get lots of comments from coworkers. They say to me, “Hey, skinny.” Or something of that nature. I find that I say back, “Hey, fatso.” This usually goes to the thinnest people in the building. But my point is that it’s just as awkward to call someone skinny as it is to call them fat.
I dunno. Touchy? Maybe. I understand that people are trying to give me recognition for my weight loss efforts. At the same time, calling me skinny is a weird way to say it.
I ran down by the river, which is a lovely part of town. There are always loons and blue herons hanging out on big orange buoys there. This takes me past the historic Lowell Boat Shop, built by Simeone Lowell in 1793, and still turning out wooden boats by hand. This run takes me past some of the biggest homes in the town, old babes with spaceous porches and monstrous yards that upslope into a hilly forest.
My body appreciated this run. It was 42 minutes of running 4, walking 1, and splitting the difference at the end. I beat my “down” time coming “back” by 30 seconds, meaning the landmark from where I started turned up 30 seconds earlier on my way back. I had two sizable hills that I used as mental toughness practice.
After two days of waking up late (er, uh, 6:10AM), I’m back to my regular running time. I did my morning ritual:
*Fuel- two handfuls of uncooked oats and a banana.
*Friends (read blogs while food processes a bit).
So, after reading Jon’s race report, I started wondering how seasoned racers approach a 5K. Do you run balls out (as they say), and just let your body pick up the pieces later? Is the plan to have some sense of pace just like you would for a marathon, only faster? How do YOU approach it?
General comment: After running my first race one town over and then getting a ride to my second race, I’m feeling somewhat lazy about choosing the next race that’ll come before the one I told everyone would be my first race. Funny, isn’t it?
46 days ago, I decided to drink only water and green tea. I cut out a substantial diet Coke habit, as well as a formidable input of coffee. It’s been going well, and I only rarely miss the other products. I do have the occasional beer, still, but because I drink Guinness, I qualify it as food.
And now? Today, I am going to quit sugar. Sweets of all kinds, except for fruit and the energy bars. This is one of those areas where I still let in plenty of cheats, and I think I can tackle it now that I have met with so much success on the caffeine front.
I did a few dozen laps at the gym’s pool, bench pressed and rowed a little weight around, and then fudged with some hamstring and quad weights. Tonight’s workout ended up getting skipped (didn’t get home until 8-something-PM, and will make it up tomorrow). So, yeah.
On the plus, celebrated my dad’s and my daughter’s birthday all in one bang. My folks are eating much healthier foods, so we find it really exciting to go there.
First off, I did a run this morning where I kept my heart rate at-or-under 140 the whole time. Boy, what a different run that was. For one thing, it was nearly impossible to keep my rate low at the start. I had to do this weird pace that felt like my running shoes were tied together at the laces. But then, near the middle, I felt like I had enough energy not to have to walk every four minutes, and I felt like I could run at that pace forever. By the very end, my stride was getting longer and longer, and I had to keep looking at my HRM to see the 140 still there. Felt like more.
Have you done this kind of training? What did you find? Any other thoughts or ideas?