Just One Marathon

List-less

Sometimes I really question my decision-making skills. Like today, I was trying to decide whether to run at lunch. In my head, I made a list of “reasons to run” and “reasons not to run”. It went something like this.

 

Reasons to Run

• I missed my 30K run yesterday because I was doing the hockey mom thing at an out-of-town tournament
• I am just three weeks away from running Around the Bay
• I actually have the time today
• I remembered all my running gear
• A good run would improve my mood and increase my energy level

Reasons NOT to Run

• I forgot my iPod

Easy decision right? Skip the run! You can’t run on a treadmill without an iPod.

In fact, the only run I made this afternoon was to the store for a candy fix. I’m thinking I need some new decision-making techniques. Here’s a motivator -- photos of me taken during the first half of last fall’s marathon and during the last 10K of the same race.

Here’s how I want to look when I’m running Around the Bay:

 
(Me during the first half of the Wineglass) 

Here’s how I don’t want to look (or feel):

 
(Me just a couple of hundred metres from the end. Kill me now.)

 

Yup, it's working. I'm feelng more motivated already.

In My Head, I Am Blogging

… and also running.

In real life, I haven’t written a post since recounting my tale of woe from the Wineglass Marathon in October. Since then, I’ve stopped sighing. Mostly. Unfortunately, I’ve also stopped running for the last three weeks.

I was feeling quite guilty about it, but then I gave this latest bout of laziness a name: a hiatus. That makes it sound well planned and strategic. And the guilt? Gone. I’m not slacking. I’m on a running hiatus. See how good that sounds?

Of course, there’s no hiatus from the real world. Houses must be clean, laundry folded, Christmas gifts purchased, meals prepared, university papers written and all the other demands of daily life attended to. Also, at work, they frown on the spontaneous hiatus. So one must also go into the office. Still, not running frees up a lot of time. In my case, it frees up at least 4 hours and 17 minutes over the course of 42 kilometres. Sigh.

Anyways, I can feel the pressure to run building. Any day now, I will sign up for a race (I’ve got lots of ideas). Then, I will start worrying about how on earth I’m going to complete the race. Then I will run. It’s that simple.

But for now: hiatus. I love that word.

Bright Lights, Long Run

Here is how it happens.

You see other runners on the road and think bitter, angry thoughts. They’re all, like: “Look at me – it’s 5 p.m., raining and cold and I’m out on my run. Enjoy your commute home, slacker!” You hate them.  Your own short runs start to get harder and your pace slows. You persevere, but you feel like you’re logging meaningless junk miles.

 

Then a day comes when everything goes right. You have time to run, you feel healthy and strong, and all you need to do is put on your shoes and step out the door. But you procrastinate, finding one thing or another to do (fold the laundry, answer the phone check your e-mail) while your window of running time gets smaller and smaller. That’s when you realize you’ve lost it: the will to run.

 

Now you’re at the crossroads. You spent years and years as a non-runner. You remember how much free time you had back then, how good it felt to laze around all Sunday morning or spend your lunch hour eating with friends, or be tucked warm in bed on a cold weekday morning. Those were good times.

 

But you also remember how you used to run out of energy part-way through the day. How stairs made you huff and puff. And how envious you were of ordinary people who set and achieved what seemed to be incredible athletic goals (Run a marathon! Complete a triathalon! Ski the Rockies!). You also know how hard you’ve worked to make yourself as a runner, and how easy it would be to make yourself a non-runner once again.

So, you lace up your shoes and venture out, telling yourself you’ll just run for 30 minutes, and see how it goes. You can even walk, if you want. The first 5K are awful … you really pay for weeks of low mileage. Then you notice that you’re half-way to a 10K run. The sky is blue, the air crisp and cool and the world full of shiny, happy people playing with their children raking leaves, walking hand-in-hand. For a few minutes, you actually forget you’re running. At 7K, you start to set goals for yourself – your next distance, a new time goal, an upcoming race. At 10K, you mentally compose a blog post about your experience and decide to get all Jay McInerneyand write it in the second person. You hope this won’t be too annoying.

 

Before you know it, you’ve run 12K (when’s the last time you actually ran longer than you intended?) and you know that the runner inside you has emerged again. And you vow not to let her go back into hiding.

Possibly the Lamest Excuse Ever For Skipping a Run

In my short running career, I have dredged up some pretty pathetic reasons for avoiding a run: tiredness, forgotten running gear, work.

But today … and I say this proudly … I feel I scraped the bottom of the barrel. I didn’t run today because I pulled a muscle in my arm playing ball hockey with my son in the basement. Yup, it’s true. I can’t run with a sore bicep. What if I need to lift a really full water bottle to my lips? Or fast forward through a particularly uninspiring song on my iPod? Or wave to a really good looking runner passing in the other direction? No, it’s not worth the risk.

So, I’ll just take it easy. Maybe give the arm muscle a light workout tonight -- lifting utensils and wine glasses and, if I’m feeling up to it, using the TV clicker. Just take it one day at a time.

What about you? What’s the worst excuse you’ve ever used for avoiding a workout? I’m throwing down the gauntlet – can you outdo me?

Why Running is Like a Box of Chocolates

I wonder if every runner vacillates between two extreme feelings about running. I know I do. Last Sunday I ran 17K and hated every minute of it. Seriously. In fact, that was my mantra for the entire 90-minutes: “I hate running. I hate running. I hate running.”

This Sunday, I ran 14K and felt fantastic. Never mind that I cut my toe and bled through my slush-drenched shoes. The weather was mild, the roads were bare, the route was beautiful and my new hat held my ear-bud in place so that it never popped out once. It was a transcendent experience (not the bloody toes, but the run itself).

Okay, I know what you’re expecting me to say – that my attitude made the difference. Nahhh. It’s just that this morning, everything went great, while last week, everything went to hell. I guess that’s one reason I don’t quit running – because ya never know what you’re gonna get.

Borrowed Inspiration

The big running funk continues. Head cold. Work stress. Over-programmed children. Pick an excuse – I got ‘em all. So, in true Reluctant Runner fashion, I’m giving up. Taking the week off. Instead, I’ll read about other runners.

Fortunately, two of my favorite running bloggers just finished big events and posted very inspiring reports. I feel about race reports the way I used to feel about watching the TV show “Birth Stories”. It’s like experiencing the whole glorious event minus the pain. See for yourself:

§         Vanilla is, to my mind, the funniest running blogger out there. Here’s how he describes his state of mind at the halfway point of the Denver Half-Marathon: “By mile 7, I wasn’t paying attention to my MP3 player, I wasn’t thinking about how cold or tired I was. I was simply weighing the pros and cons of peeing my pants.” Want to know what he decided? Check out the race report at his blog, Half-Fast.

§         How can you not love a blogger who feels almost as passionate about dirty martinis as running? P.O.M. (stands for “Pieces of Me”), is the Bridget Jones of running bloggers (if Bridget was from California and, y’know, a real person): funny, honest and human. Last Sunday, she ran her first marathon and posted her uplifting report.

Scheduled end to my running holiday: Sunday. I’ll report back then, bright-eyed, full of renewed enthusiasm, etc., etc.

Runner's Low

People talk a lot about the benefits of exercise, but no one ever talks about the many advantages of a life of sloth. This week, in the middle of a post-race, sleep-deprived, head-cold-induced funk, I got to thinking about all the wonderful things I miss about not running. Stuff like:

·   Spending lunches eating, shopping, reading and talking to friends, instead of skulking out of the office for a quick run.

·   Sleeping in on both days of the weekend.

·   Staying inside when it’s cold/raining/snowing/sweltering.

·   Feeling like a day without exercise is normal.

Yup, it’s a crap week here in Reluctant Runner land. A long, hard run would probably put my head right, but I just can’t seem to bring myself to take the cure quite yet. Could it be I’m enjoying my little pity party? Care to join me?