Splits

0.5 "Man, my legs are heavy today. I should have had more water this morning. I wonder if I'll warm up enough to justify this tank top. Shoot, kids playing basketball up there. Posture!"

1.0 "I love those cement geese. I'm surprised I hit 1.0 so soon. I thought it was at the end of the block. Huh. That extra half block really makes a difference. I'm doing ok- that was a 10:40 minute mile. I've got some pacing room."

1.5 "Ok. Ok. Halfway already. The wind is going to suck when I turn this corner, but the straight lines will be good for my brain. Turn up the music with all this traffic. Posture!!"

2.0 "One left. That last half-mile went really fast. If I had to, I could walk home in plenty of time. But no walking. I've got plenty of gas in the tank. 10:20 wasn't bad. That was a fast mile. I'm ok with that time."

2.5 "That's it. Cool down 1/2 mile. Right? Slow down. Slow it. Down. The hard part is over. Now cool down. Anna, slow down. You're not going to make it if you keep pushing. And you deserve the cool down."

3.0 "Ok. Done. Whew! The right leg is pretty sore. I've got to walk this out. Turn the right foot out? Does that feel better? Yeah. Turn it out. And breathe. And, done. Good sweat. Need more water. Gotta drink more water. Good run. There's the house."

One Week Out

One Fund Boston 

I was going to cry more.
But then I ran.

I was going to read "news" online.
But then I ran.

I was going to post something to Facebook.
But then I ran.

I was going to let myself feel pity.
But then I ran.

I was going to feel disappointed, depressed, angry, and hurt.
But then I ran.

But then I ran
And my Mind cleared.

Then I ran
And some (but not all) of the weight seemed to lift.

Then I ran
And I remembered that we always run.

Then I ran
And I kept running.

This is a good article.

Overheard: Moments before falling asleep

Him: Come over here.
Me: No. You come here. You're closer to me than I am to you.
[insert 15 minutes of uncontrollable laughter]

Entropy

Things fall apart. It's just how the universe works. Something whole breaks down into smaller pieces, and those pieces tend to scatter. And then, all of the sudden, you look up and wonder where the plan went. I mean, there was a plan. It may even have been a good, solid, plan. But... it's fallen apart. 

(I feel like I've written about this a LOT already, but here's another go at it)

So... now what? Now, refocus. Remember your goal. Or even... narrow your goal. Let's take, for example, the following:

Goals 

To run a 5k. 

To lose weight. 

To be healthy. 

To fit into the little black dress in the back of my closet. 

Focus/reality check

To run a 5k on May 12th.

"Losing weight" will happen if I dedicate myself to running.

By running, I'm already being healthy.

That black dress already technically fits. I just don't like the way I look in it. 

[Will I ever really like the way I look? Maybe not. Something to consider.]

Plan

There are 4 weeks until May 12th. A good 5k training plan will look like this:

Yes, this is sub-titled "A to 5k". I can't take credit for it.

I'm not saying that we've put all the pieces back together like they were- but maybe we've managed to stick together all the multi-colored scraps of play-doh that were left on the table into a very fun looking ball. 

Sigh. It's a mom-metaphor. A Momaphor. You heard it here first. 

Shoe Shopping with Women

Scene: A shoe store. Every sales person inside is beautiful, fit, and dressed to impress. This store is exclusive. When you walk in you are greeted with a handshake and walked around with a personal guide who answers every question you could ever think of.

Is this a boutique in New York?

A fashionable shop on the Magnificent Mile in Chicago?

Nope. This is your local, family-owned running store. The staff are all trained to analyze your gait, your feet, the wear patterns on your old shoes, factor in how many miles a week you run, and your racing/running goals for the next six months.

Here's the kicker (heh heh)... it doesn't matter what the shoes look like. I know! Right??? Women are buying shoes every 6 months (or 500 miles, whichever comes first) with almost NO regard to color or style.

"Does this come in any color other than yellow and grey?"
"No."
"That's ok. I'll buy that grey jacket over there to match."

And then... and THEN?? They put the shoes on (with their jeans and whatever top they have on from work) and go outside and take an easy jog up and down the sidewalk. It looks so weird. But it's so cool.

Getting fitted for your first pair of running shoes is akin to buying your first training bra: a little uncomfortable, but a sign to the world that you want to be taken seriously.

Giant shout-outs to the local shops I frequent in my area:

Runner's High N Tri

Dick Pond Athletics

Go. Now.

I love this guy. If you don't have a subscription to Runner's World magazine, put your shoes on, get in your car, drive to your nearest bookstore, and pay the $5.00 for the May issue. Then read his article on runners' relationships with pain.

You can thank me later.

Like a Boss

A photo for Stephan

Want to up your badassery levels for the day?


1. Go online and find a sled hill near your house.
2. Put your shoes on.
3. Run to it.
4. Run up it.
5. Run down it.
6. Repeat as necessary.
7. Run home.



Note: On Facebook I gave gigantic shoutouts to Ali K. for highlighting my blog on her own blog. I'm still walking on clouds thinking that more than my mom reads the blog. It really inspires me to keep looking around my world for fun things to write about.

And if you didn't click on that link, click on this one to check out all the fun Ali has with running and racing and compression socks. I bought lime green socks yesterday with her in mind.