Plan, plan plan… Location, location, location…

Friday evening I got together with one of my PRGs (Personal Running Gurus) and we had a talk about goals and running plans and reality and limitations and starting all over all over again and how much closer I/we are to that last part than any speed/pace goals I/we might have tucked away in our mind/s.

For as much as I want to get to certain speed/pace goals (as does HCRP), there are three very real realities in our lives:
A) We simply did not run consistently pretty much any of last year.
(There’s nothing parenthetical about this, but I’m establishing a pattern here.)

B) We’re not getting any younger.
(HCRP hit 50 last July, I’m pushing it so hard I could knock it on its butt. And will in one month and two days!)

C) We are asking our bodies to carry more weight than they can hit those pace goals carrying.
(Such an evasive way to say “We’re overweight”.)

After consultation with my PRG (who is also an RRCA Certified Running Coach, one of many in Memphis) we have three goals and A Plan.
A) Develop consistency in running and cross training.
(The accountability of partnering with a friend in the 2,015 in 2015 program along with my PRG Coach Friend having an idea what I’m supposed to be doing will help.)

B) Train smart. And we now have a smart training plan.
(My/Our plan had us way over-training and barreling full-speed ahead – pun fully intended – towards injury.)

C) Clean up our diet and drop weight.
(This part I have more than ample knowledge to do, it’s the execution that’s my weakness.)

So that’s what the first six months of 2015 are focused on The Three Cs: Consistency, Commitment, Clean Eating!

Sundays are Short, Easy Run Days.
Sundays are supposed to be Short, Easy Run Days.
Yesterday we managed the “Short” part. We (and by “we” I mean “me” because I picked where we ran) did not manage the “Easy” part.
Memphis has a gajillion miles of running trails and bike paths both paved and unpaved. I am far more comfortable road running (Read: On pavement). I don’t like tripping over things. I hate snakes. And the idea of ticks falling out of trees onto my head freaks me smooth out. But seeing as how I’m closing in on my very own shiny, new, AARP Membership in the next 30 days; and having recently read an article (that I can’t remember the source of, because Pushing Fifty Brain) that talked about the benefits of off road trail running for AARP Membership Eligible runners (snakes and ticks notwithstanding) I decided we needed to run “off road”  ish. 

Aaaaanyway… With the concepts of that article pinging in my brain, and looking to change some things up in our running routine, I picked a gravel road/trail course for our “Easy” run Sunday afternoon.
I chose poorly.
I forgot about two things: The Hills and The Construction Detours.
The Hills part should speak for itself.
SFP is the largest park in our area and is currently undergoing a major enhancement project part of which impacts (albeit minimally given the scope of this whole thing) some of the running and cycling trails. So as we got to the point where a detour was inevitable we needed to run a good half mile further before turning around to get in the three miles we’d set out to run. Our options were: Run back and forth up and down the freakin’ mother of a hill; or turn off and run on the “mountain bike trail” before turning around and heading back.
Now, which one of these do you think I went with?
All those who guessed “mountain bike trail” run right up here to the front of the class and get your Gold Star.
Yep.
We went there, did that.
This did not make for an “Easy” run.
But we did it.
The takeaway from that little adventure: Having a plan is good, knowing where you’re going is even better!

Oh, hi! You’re still here?

Well, well, well…  It’s been long enough since I’ve been here that I’m having to completely re-learn the toolbar at the top of this little window.  That’s fun.  Honestly, the first thing that came to mind when I started thinking (a week ago) “I really need to get back to blogging” was that part at the end of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off when he comes down the hall saying “You’re still here?  It’s over.  Go home.”  Only don’t go home, it isn’t over.  I’m just getting started all over again again.

It’s also been long enough since I’ve run consistently that I’m having to re-learn some of that.  Not the least of which are The Two Cs of Running (and everything): Consistency and Commitment.

I have no excuses or explanations for what happened to me with running in 2014.  I just didn’t.  Well, I did.  I ran a total of 192 miles for the year.  An average of 1.9 miles per day only without any consistency.  At. All.  But that was then and this is now and I am committed to consistency. I am an overall better version of myself when I run consistently, and I like being that person.

Plus 2015 is somewhat of a watershed year for me.  I turn 50 this year!  And I really am ‘exclamation point excited’ about it. I’m getting a bicycle for my birthday.  One of those nifty cruiser bikes with a basket on the handlebars that I can ride up and down the Greenline just for fun. And to overcome an adulthood aversion to cycling.
No, I won’t be registering for any triathlons.  Ever.  I have no desire to do that. I admire triathletes, I have friends who are triathletes, I don’t need to join that particular club.

I do have some running goals for the year.
I’d like to get my 5K and 10K pace down to a consistent 10 minute mile.
I’d like to get my half marathon time down to 2:30:00.
Towards that end I’m going to sit down with a running coach and work out a training program.  This will provide both guidance and accountability.

I’m also going to get my Race Director Certification through RRCA.  This will require time management more than anything else.  Okay, it will require me not talking myself out of it or coming up with half a dozen excuses not to.  So I’m putting it “Out There” here.  Feel free to nag.  Step One is funding the registration fee. I’d like to be registered and started on this by my birthday (February 21st).

And coming here at least weekly is another part of accountability for me.
I love writing/blogging, and frankly I’ve missed it.  I’ve missed having Stats to track and seeing how many people read a given post and where they’re from. In order to have that I have to write.  And because this is a blog about my adventures in running there have to be such adventures in order to blog.

I’ve also entered the Run The Edge 2,015 in 2015 Challenge with one of my running friends and HCRP. Actually I entered it because of Renee (running friend).  Were it not for her I would have blown the whole idea off.  So Thanks Renee!

So for those who’ve stuck around waiting to see if/when I was ever going to post again: Thank you!  I’m back. And I’m glad you’re still here.

Three Year Runniversary

In about a month it will be three years since I first laced up my Asics and stood in a parking lot with several hundred other women wondering what in blue blazes I was getting myself into taking part in our local running club’s Women’s Running Training Program. I was convinced of two things: 1) I was out of my mind; and 2) I was going to die. Clearly I was wrong on one of those two counts.

The Training Program is ramping up again, and for the third year I’m volunteering as a Coach with the Beginning Runners group. Earlier today a young friend I’ve known for a long, long time tagged me in a post on Facebook showing her registration confirmation for the program. And truth be told, I got puddled up. I am so proud of her for stepping out of her fear and putting herself ‘out there’ doing this in a group and in public.
She’s pretty convinced she’s out of her mind.
And she’s afraid she’s going to pass out, fail, or worst of all quit.
I’ve promised her she won’t pass out or fail and she’s given me permission to nag her so she doesn’t quit. Thus proving that she’s out of her mind. Never give me permission to nag! I’m good at it. I have references.
Me? I’m proud of her! Couldn’t be more full of maternal pride if she were my own child doing this.

Every year I’ve been a volunteer coach it has served a couple of purposes.
First, if my own running has faltered or I’ve begun to ‘fall out of love’ with it knowing this is coming up kicks me back into the groove.
Second, it puts me back into what my RYL (Running/Yoga/Life) Mentor calls “Beginner’s Mind”. I get that little excited/nervous flutter in my stomach. I get excited about running and all things running all over again. I start inventorying the answers to beginner questions in my mind, and in that process I ask them of myself.
How are my shoes?
How’s my running bra?
Am I eating to sufficiently fuel the maching?
Am I adequately hydrating for those hot, steamy, Memphis afternoon runs?
Have I lost my mind?

In encouraging my young friend I linked her to the beginning of this blog so she could see where I was early on in this and while I was there I scanned through some of the posts there and stopped when I came across this statement, made about three weeks shy of my own Graduation 5K: I have never, ever in my life stuck with any sort of exercise plan/program this consistently for this long! And it stopped me in my tracks. Because I am still sticking with it!
Oh there have been occasional lapses, but I’ve never quit or stopped. I’ve always come back to it, always begun again all over again.

And much of the credit for that goes to the very thing that got me started in the first place. A few weeks ago I was deliberating with RYL Mentor whether or not I was going to continue coaching with the Beginners, move to coaching with the Intermediates, or register as a participant for the Advanced training to up my own game. My personal jury was still out on the decision a bit. Until the email went out asking coaches to sign up and I decided to give it one more year and I found myself clicking the link and signing up. And today, when my young Rockstar friend tagged me in that post I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be. My heart is with the Beginning Runners, and there’s a tiny bit of selfishness in that.

The butterflies are marching and I’m excited for both of us.
On Monday, July 7th when we start that first Run With Coaches it will be a beginnig for her and an amazing continuation of a beginnig for me.
Three years.
Who saw that coming?!

The Incredible, Amazing, Self-Repairing Want To

After months of worrying about it, sporadic efforts, and vacillating between “I’m going to fix this!” and “Screw it, I’ll just quit!” and finally deciding to let things Just Be until they started Just Be-ing something else, something clicked and I’m back to loving running.

Seriously.
*poof*
Just like that.
It started with a Memorial Day Race that we do not just because it’s a race put on by our favorite running store, but because it honors those men and women from our area who have made the ultimate sacrifice in service to our country.  I knew the running of the race part was going to be ugly because I hadn’t really been running, and even with an 8am start time it was going to be warm and m-u-g-g-y.  It’s late May in Memphis and “Muggy” is this city’s middle name!  But it wasn’t quite as ugly as I’d expected and – once I could breathe like a normal human being – I didn’t feel all that bad.
Of course having the store staff cheering us on by name, and the Patriot Guard Riders who came out to honor the latest name added to the existing 1,575 names on the memorial wall cheering us on telling us how awesome we were it was hard to feel bad about being out there in any way.

HCRP ended up at the Ortho Doc looking into some knee pain he’s been experiencing recently.  No damage or injury, but it’s possible he’s beginning to develop a bit of arthritis in his knee.  Not a game stopper, just requires some care and adaptation.  Anyway, we blew off running Wednesday.
Correction.
I blew off running Wednesday.  He had a note from his doctor.
Thursday came and I packed my gym bag, took it to work, and spent the day alternately adoring and glaring at it.  Around 3:30 I decided “I’m just not feeling this today, I don’t see it happening.”  Then I thought about some of the races coming up on our calendar – some of our favorites in this area – and decided “No, I’m going to run!”
And so it went for the next 90 minutes.
Back and forth.
“Running!”
“Nope. Not running.”
Forth and back.
HCRP got there and was visibly limping so it was clear that running wasn’t in his best interests, which was the precise moment I decided “I’m running!”

We run together.  Always have since I started the Women’s Running Program three years ago and told him “You’re doing these runs with me during the week!”  Unfortunately because we run together and “always have” when one of us is ill, injured, or ‘just not feeling it’ it is far too easy for the other to “sit this one out” with them.
Awww…
Such devotion!
Such love!
Such a load of crap!
And so I laced up my Asics and hit the Greenline for a couple (and a half, there was ‘and a half’) miles that felt really, really good!  AND felt good at a pace that was a full 30 seconds  per mile faster than my old reliable 12:00 minute per mile standby pace.
By myself!
I’m so accustomed to having HCRP just off my left shoulder that I think part of my brain had come to believe I ‘couldn’t’ run alone. I’m not sure why, and honestly I’m not inclined to give it too much mental space or energy.  The thought/belief was there, and now it’s not.  I actually enjoyed the solitude.

Yesterday morning we (HCRP’s knee is improving!  Yay!) headed out for another run.  He kept it short (2 miles) and I resisted the urge to increase mileage too quickly and only went out for 3.  And again, my pace was quicker than it’s been in the past and everything felt good.
I’m doing some things differently – basing my intervals on distance and not time and increasing the distance of the run intervals – which will bring the goals I had for this year to reality.

But more important than pace or time or distance is that I’m already looking forward to Monday’s run!

My Give A Dang* is fine, it’s my Want To that’s busted

First and foremost, let’s dispense with the titular earworms:
Give A Dang*
Want To
I really only like one of those songs.
And you, in the corner, stop snickering at ‘titular’. It’s a grown-up word. Look it up!

I want to run.
That’s a lie.
I want to want to run.

I pack gym bags.  Several days a week.
I actually manage to run about once a week, which I end up enjoying once I get past the griping thighs and burning lungs. I’m even (somehow) running a full 30 seconds per mile less than my standard pace.
And after every one of those runs I turn to HCRP and say “This is the last time we skip runs!” Which is generally followed closely by “And we have got to cross-train!”
I’ve even resorted to platitudes like “No excuses!” and “Were gonna ‘Just Do It’!”
I have not (yet) resorted to “No pain, no gain”.

We’re volunteering for races with our running club.
Cheering on other runners, admiring finish times I will never aspire to.
Talking running out the wazoo.
Speaking of my wazoo, it has somehow managed not to grow exponentially in direct opposition to the number of miles I’m not logging.  Not sure how that’s not happening.
(If you understood those last couple sentences, you might want to get your head examined.)

My running friends are running.  And then some!
My Tri-ing friends are tri-ing as Tri-Season is upon us.
And I envy them all the joy they get from the miles.

Me?
I’m just not feelin’ it.
I want to feel it.
I’ve even tried that whole ‘fake it til you make it’ thing through not one, but two half-marathons I was woefully under-trained for.
But I’m just not there.
The list of Races We Must Do This Year isn’t enough to get me excited.  Regardless how close (next week!) the first of them may be.  I suddenly find myself completely capable of registering and either skipping it or volunteering to work it with “Hey, they got my money for their cause and I got my shirt” as my lovely parting gift/consolation prize.

One of my BFF/RMs (Running Mentor) has even offered to coach me, she being a Certified Coach and everything.

*sighs*
Tomorrow my BFF/RM and I are getting back into our weekly yoga practice. That had to take a back seat to a greater need that had her completely gone (as in out of town) for six months.
But she’s back now.  And so is Friday Yoga Time.
Maybe that will help.
Keeping up with (or trying to) her fit-tabulousness could motivate a manatee!

WRWM is starting up again in July and HCRP and I are committed to being Volunteer Coaches again. And I have two months to get my tail – along with my legs and lungs – into “Why yes, yes I have in fact done this before” condition.

Thankfully, in addition to the return of BFF/RM, one of my ‘nother Favorite People and Running Gurus put some words on my screen this very day that said more about me than they did her. Even though I’m pretty sure she believes they were All About Her.

I also want to write. Maybe not about running, just in general.
But definitely I definitely want to write about running here.
Only it’s hard to write about something you’re not doing.

At least for me it is.

Maybe if you build the Give A Dang, the Want To will come . . .

*Edited for the sake of my mother, in case she ever reads this.

It’s only a goal if it’s your own

Assuming you know the story of My First MaraNot (if not go back and catch up, I’ll wait) . . .

Okay, now that we all know the story, there’s one line in there that turns out to be not-quite-so-true for me. When I said (repeatedly) and wrote (just the one time) “And, I still have a marathon to run!”, well, it turns out I didn’t really mean it. Okay I meant it in that ‘All the Kool Kids are saying/doing it!’ kinda way. But it turns out it wasn’t really so much a part of My Truth after all.

Those of you who are diehard, driven, The Goal is The Goal kind of folks might want to stop reading right now before you get to the ‘throwing up in your mouth a little’ part. Unless you already have and in that case: I apologize. Here’s a breath mint.

To say that I have been ambivalent about running for the past two months is an understatement of epic proportions. As I was sharing with my Sole Sister/RYL (Running/Yoga/Life) Mentor Tonia there was a day a couple weeks ago when I was sitting at my desk glaring at my gym bag when the thought “I’m just going to quit running” walked purposefully through my mind.
Followed by complete and utter silence.
There was no immediate outcry from The Parts of Me That Lurve Running.
There was nothing.
No argument.
No “But you’ve got Nashville coming up!”
Nada.
Zip.
Infinity x Zero = Crickets.
And that was the moment I realized that there was something seriously wrong.

The problem wasn’t running. I <3 Running! Really, I do!
I wrote more about running than my husband on Valentine’s Day!
If that’s not proof I don’t know what is.
But somewhere between Friday morning when I typed out that cherubic little missive to my sport of choice, and Saturday afternoon when Tonia texted me asking “Can you talk?” (or words to that effect) I realized that The Problem was The Goal.
Not MY Goal.
Rather the goal I picked up and took home that really wasn’t mine.

Here’s the deal. (Yes, I say that in actual conversation. Frequently.)
When St. Jude was cancelled I was upset.
Correction I was hurt.
Corrected correction I was hurt and disappointed.
Correcting the corrected correction: I was hurt and disappointed and angry.
I was robbed!
I’d spent six months of my life training to run that marathon and now It Wasn’t Happening!
Oh sure, I could have gone out on No-Longer-Race-Day and run the course – hundreds of people did and they had a blast!  But we had other things to take care of.
The next week there was very well put together Make Up Marathon I could have taken part of.  And I just couldn’t get into it.
I did neither of those things.
Because I spent six months of my life training to run That Marathon.
Nothing else.
Not the Run It Anyway Marathon, not the Make-Up Marathon, not even one of the three races we were given the opportunity to transfer our registrations to.
That Marathon.
The 2013 Memphis St. Jude Marathon.
And It Didn’t Happen.
Not because I couldn’t do it or because I didn’t feel like it.
The event simply didn’t happen.  (For completely valid reasons.)

In all, 100%, complete, total honesty my first reaction was “Okay, well, it isn’t meant to be.” And I was okay with that.
Until everyone around me started saying (to be encouraging and supportive) “So you’ll Find Another Marathon to do? Right? Right!! Yay Julianne! Ewe can dew eet!”
And because I didn’t want to be A Quitter, and because I didn’t want to let everyone else down, I Found Another Marathon! And I registered and I set up a training plan based on the one we’d used before and even with having to have one of my 2,000 parts forcibly evicted (removed, surgically, it was my gallbladder, not my brain) I had more than enough time to recover and train and Run My Marathon in April!
Only that wasn’t ‘My Marathon’.
It was Everybody Else’s Marathon.
I had been perfectly okay releasing my Marathon Dream to “Eh, it happens!” and move forward to my stated goals for 2014 that centered around reducing my times in shorter races and embracing my Inner Halfer.
But I said I was Running A Marathon!
And Everybody expected me to Run A Marathon.
Many of my running buddies dove headlong into the next closest-on-the-calendar Marathon and did it! Others opted to get into trail running, and some into really long trail running. I admire each and every one of them for what they’ve done.  Especially those really long trail running people.  (They’re crazy, but it’s that admirable kind of crazy.)  Sometimes admiration is the sincerest form of flattery, not imitation.
And when I finally said, out loud, to Tonia “I really don’t think I want to train for and run a marathon, any marathon” I felt like the weight of the expectation of a thousand expectated expectations were lifted from my shoulders.

Because here’s the thing: Nobody – not one person runner or non-runner – ever said to me “Okay Julianne I/we expect you to run another marathon or you will be dead to me/us!”
Nobody threatened to take away my Asics or all the miles I’d put in training or the fact that I love running or even the really cute skirt I’d bought Just For That Race if I didn’t find some other marathon to run.
*I* did that to me.
*I* put that expectation of an expectation on me. And them. But mostly on me. On their behalf. Wasn’t that good of me?

There’s nothing wrong with saying “Okay, that race didn’t happen” and taking that as the answer to “Is it part of my journey?”.
Funny thing is that when I blurted all of that out to Tonia her answer was “If it isn’t your passion – don’t do it!”. And when I shared with my ‘nother running friend Tracie on Sunday she said “If you’re not going to enjoy it – why do it?”
Yet another reason I <3 <3 <3 Runners!
We’re big fans of that whole “It’s your race!” concept in and out of our Asics. Or Brooks. Or whatever fits your footfall.

So I’m running in Nashville (and I’m still raising money as a St. Jude Hero, as is HCRP) but I’ll be running the Half. HCRP hasn’t fully made up his mind yet, and whatever he chooses to do is his race.

Won’t you be my Valentine?

Dear Running,
What to say?
I know I’ve been distant and aloof these past couple months.
Oh, I’ve flirted with you here and there.
Those quickies on the treadmill.
That long weekend in New Orleans that wasn’t everything it could have been. By the way, thanks for doing your part there even though I didn’t do mine getting ready and all.
But really, we both know my heart hasn’t been in it.
And truth be told, I haven’t missed you. Much.

Because I love being part of The Kook Kids Klub, I’ve kept up the facade that we’re still A Thing. But you and I? We know what’s been up between us. Or hasn’t.  Thanks for not blowing my cover.

And really, it hasn’t been you, it’s been all me babe.
I got my feelings hurt when that Big Date we had planned back in December fell through. That wasn’t you or me. It was that witch Winter Weather. But I let disappointment turn into a long-term pout and I took it out on you with that whole silent treatment thing.

Of course having one of my 2,000 parts decide to stop doing that voodoo it (used to) do so well and having to be evicted didn’t help. But I’ve been over that for weeks now.

I do still love you.
I promise.

I’ve got too much invested in this relationship to back out now.
And we’ve got that whole Spring Prom thing planned in Nashville at the end of April! I know you’ll be there and I have no intention of standing you up.
I’ve just needed my space.  Okay maybe not “needed” but I took it anyway.

But this morning I woke up truly and fully missing you.
Everything about you.
The sweat.
The time and distance with nothing but the two of us.
The caring about a time on a clock at a finish line and wanting to make it something different. 
The Zone. That mile or so when it feels like my feet aren’t even touching the ground and I Could Do This Forever.
And yes, even that first sucktastic mile or so when I have to remind the legs and the lungs that yes they’ve done this before.
Yeah, I woke up missing that too.

So I guess what I’m saying is it’s time we got back together.
For real now. No more treadmill flirtations or half-hearted weekend getaways.
It’s time for me to come back to you. You’re right where you’ve always been: under my laces, on the streets. Thanks for that.
See you tomorrow morning!