Yesterday I came up with my training plan. I'm a visual planner. I love lists. I carry around a bright pink notebook that is full of lists. Idea lists, grocery lists, menu lists, to do lists, thought lists, the list goes on and on. (haha Get it? I just made a punny!)
I like my workout schedule/plan to be written out on it's own calendar. I have one calendar hanging for family events, appointments, that sort of thing. I then have another calendar hanging, or rather blank monthly calendars printed from the computer with my work outs scrawled on the days. I love seeing exactly what I have planned for myself that day, as well as the next day. I can look forward to rest days, and prep myself for the big, long days.
As I was writing out my future millage, it was a blessing to see it all laid out. 26.2 miles is a long way to carry your own body. My plan spans over 21 weeks, and lines up perfectly with the half marathon I'm registered for in January. Back when I registered, I wanted to do a race as soon as we arrived in Wisconsin. I wanted to get involved with the running community, hopefully make friends, and stay active. Now that I'm thinking about it, I feel like the biggest fool for wanting to do intense training through the holiday season, while in the middle of our first move with two kids. I mean, honestly. What was I thinking?
Anyway, so I had my schedule all written out and it seemed doable. The first day I'd only run for 35 minutes, and the weeks to follow would prepare me for the 26.2 mile Trailbreaker Marathon on April 6th. And then I stopped looking at the first couple months and got lost in the "long" days where I saw where I had written, 20 miles, 22 miles, 24 miles, Race day." Uhhhhh... I must be INSANE.
Here's a secret. I don't even love running. Some days I don't even like it. Occasionally, ok RARELY, I find my sweet spot, where my breathing, pace, and strides are all intertwined and coordinated. That's the time where I am completely whole. It's hard to describe, but I can think and am totally consumed within myself. It's almost like the relaxing cool down part of a yoga session. I love that. Unfortunately, most runs I'm huffing and puffing and resemble a seal or walrus trying to run on land.
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| Me when I run. No not the cute lady, the lump passed out on the dock. Yup, that's more like it. |
I don't run because I love it. When I did the Halloween Half a few weeks ago, both legs were cramped, I walked more than I wanted to, and probably looked like someone who had escaped from a hospital, still attached to an IV. But I crossed the finish line. I know I sound like a complete weenie describing this, and it's probably true, but I was amazed that my body carried itself for those 13.1 miles.
I have always been fascinated with the human body. I think it's incredible that a heart can pump and circulate blood through the tiniest tunnels throughout the entire body. I am in awe of all the the body does and all that it can do. It's amazing to me. That's why I run. I love accomplishing hard things and learning what my own body is capable of. While I might have been cursing and whining through the last few miles of the half marathon, and was no where near first, the overwhelming satisfaction and amazement still came after crossing that line. After that moment, despite not having control over my lower body for the next couple days, I wanted more.
I had been thinking for a while that completing a marathon should be on my bucket list. I have a big list of "I want to someday's" and a small list of "I've done's). If my body could endure that much butt-kicking, I must have my imaginary limits set way too low. Everyone has limits, but perhaps we don't find out what those limits REALLY are.
Last night I came up with my morning routine plan. (Yes, I did write it in my pink notebook, although the list consisted of only three items.) My plan was to wake up at 5:30. I even created an alarm on my phone called. "JUST DO IT!!". Then I allowed myself 15 minutes to get dressed and grab something to eat before 5:45 when I'd read scriptures. What better boost could I give myself in the morning than a spiritual one? I could eat my breakfast and read for 15 minutes before 6:00 when I had to be out the door, on the way to the gym to do my run. I'd prefer to run outside, but no woman in their right mind would go running alone in the dark. Plus, it's freezing outside.
Here's how this morning went. The alarm went off at 5:30 and alarmed me. (Another punny.) I quickly shut it off to make it stop, didn't even bother to read the, "JUST DO IT!!" saying I had purposely entitled the alarm, and ducked back under the blankets to warm up and ultimately fall back asleep. Luckily, Ross had his alarm set for 6:30. I jumped out of bed, got dressed, grabbed my phone and earphones and ran to the car.
I had an amazing run. Since it was only a 35 minute run, I wasn't afraid to jump up the speed, blast the music and just go. Not gonna lie, I took an unintentional long break from running since the half, and had only run a couple times since then. I ended my run with a determined grimace on my face, just sort of grunting out loud, and near barfing point. Once I got myself under control, that runner's high that everyone loves so much kicked in and I was feeling great. Then I rushed off to the grocery store to get the weekly shopping done without the two kiddos. (Which is in fact, the greatest reward EVER.)
Gratefully, I figured out 5:30 is a bit too ambitious, and I should be able to get everything done in the morning that I'd like before I run, so I can rise and shine at 6 instead. Which will still require some determination to actually get me out of the warm bed.
Marathon Training Day 1: Success. I can say I'm proud of how my run went this morning, and it feels REALLY good to be back at it. Hopefully the rest of this week will follow suit.
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