The course is buried under 18″-20″ of snow and is criss-crossed by dozens of downed trees, so the race director made the tough decision to cancel. On the bright side, I’m guaranteed entry into next year’s event. I’ve really enjoyed my training, so while I’m disappointed to not be attempting my first ultra next week, I’m not too upset. I’ll use this good base to carry me through my March marathon.
You know the smell of a freshly mopped floor that was cleaned with lemon Pine-Sol? Pretty nice as a floor smell, not so nice as a food smell.
When I opened my first pack of Limeade Honey Stinger Energy Chews, the strong chemical-based cleaner smell sent me reeling. I’d committed to a whole box of ten packs after spotting these usually expensive chews on a deals site. Gulp.
I steeled myself for a taste commensurate with the nasty artificial citrus smell, and was pleasantly surprised by a mild, inoffensive artificial citrus flavor, somewhere between green gummy bears and Sierra Mist.
The surface of the chews is slightly sticky. Not sticky enough for all ten chews to tumble out of the foil packet in one gelatinous clump, but sticky enough for two chews to stick together, or for fingers to pick up fibers or stick together after handling them. Sticky fingers during a run, especially a gloved run, feel gross.
Texture-wise, Honey Stinger Limeade Energy Chews are similar to fresh, soft gummy bears or gummy worms. They are easy to bite through and aren’t so dense that they stick to teeth much.
I’m not a coffee drinker and I cut out soda after having been a religious Diet Coke drinker, so I’m now fairly susceptible to caffeine’s effects. Black Cherry Clif Shot Bloks give me a nice jolt of energy to get me ready to lace up in the morning, or to spur me on in the middle of a long run. These…are not Clif Shot Bloks. The 32 mg of caffeine in Limeade Honey Stinger Energy Chews can’t hold a candle to the mighty 100 mg of caffeine in a pack Black Cherry Clif Shot Bloks (50 mg/serving). They gave me no discernible energy bump. Admittedly, the slight mental and physical boost of pausing for a snack with these was the same as with any other snack, not worse, but if I’m going to stop for a snack, I want that energy boost too.
Over a few weeks, I worked my way through the entire box in order to give these a fair shake and not waste my purchase.
-Gluten-free — matters to some people
-32 mg caffeine from green tea
-Inoffensive taste — not so good that you’ll be sneaking these between workouts
-160 calories per pack — these could work for a short race or workout
-Easy to chew
-Not enough caffeine
Overall, 4/10. I just don’t like my running nutrition to remind me of hospitals.
I like to think that I’m a well-rounded, reasonably interesting person. I read contemporary literature as well as classic literature (I’m currently tackling Moby Dick a second time, hoping to get something different out of it now that I’m a bit older). I read non-fiction books. I like to have in-depth discussions about books. I watch all sorts of TV shows, such as: Breaking Bad, Chopped, Myth Busters, Family Guy, and Jeopardy. I’m a long-suffering fan of Washington DC’s NFL team. I play slowpitch and fastpitch softball. I work out at a Crossfit-type gym and a conventional gym. I’m in a healthy relationship. I have a dog. I like to travel. I love trying new restaurants.
And oh yeah, I run.
Despite having all of those other interests/hobbies/things going on, running is one of the top things I think about, at least when I’m not running. When I’m running, I either go headphone-free and do some quality thinking about other things, or I get lost in my audiobook. But when I’m not running, the ticker tape in my brain is often RUNNING RUNNING RUNNING.
With a solid 10″ of snow on the ground in the DC metro area, today was a snow day for me, which means lots of thinking about running, and because I’m not able to treadmill, no actual running.
So to stave off total cabin fever madness, I’m dipping my toe into the online running community to see if it’s as warm and welcoming as the in-person running community can be. I’ve created a Twitter account and a YouTube account, so starting soon you can connect with me in both of those places via @HopeTheRunner and HopeAgainstHopeRunning.
Discipline means understanding and respecting the difference between what you want now and what you want most.
In the wee hours of the morning, sometimes I think I want to sleep more than I want to get up and run. My sleepy animal brain may not know it, but I really ultimately want to run. So I do.
If it hurts to walk, and it hurts to run, then run.
Solid advice I read somewhere from an ultrarunner.
Often enough, courage will save a man, if his courage holds.
This one got me through the 2013 Marine Corps Marathon. It was handwritten on the back of the shirt of someone in front of me. Knowing that I had the New York Marathon the very next week, I was facing a lot more than 26.2 miles that day and courage got me through.
Each new day is another chance to be great.
I doubt that this is original to me, but it’s less a quote and more of a description of the way I feel each afternoon when I start dreaming about the next morning’s run.
Look at how far you’ve come, not how far you have left to go.
It’s easy to feel defeated at mile 18 of a marathon.There are eight punishing miles left. But those miles are only going to be tough because of the 18 already behind you. Focus on that accomplishment and let it inspire you to finish the race. The first 18 miles probably seemed impossible at some point, too.
Don’t tell people your plans. Show them your results.
Translation: shut up and get to work.
I love Nature Valley granola bars, but sometimes it seems like I need a bowl and a spoon to eat one. Upon the first bite, the bar basically shatters into little oat-y shards and crumbs. Not very convenient for on the go! This afternoon, I’ve been too busy to come up for air, but the Hungry Monster (a cousin of the Taper Monster) started growling, so I grabbed a Nature Valley Oats ‘n Honey bar from my office’s vending machine and scurried back to my desk. Both bars in the pack disappeared in about five chomps. Gone in the blink of an eye. Or so I thought. I was too intently focused on my work task to realize that I’d left behind the crumbs — fully another bite of sweet, crunchy goodness! Finding that secret last bite might not seem like much, but it put a smile on my face.
One of my favorite feelings is the soreness and contented tired feeling after intense physical exertion. Tough gym workouts and long runs are my usual source of post-exercise bliss. It’s only a blissful feeling on the day of the exercise; if the soreness and fatigue extends into the next day, it ceases to be satisfying and starts being inconvenient and uncomfortable.
Today I woke up feeling like I was old enough to be Methuselah’s mother: I was so creaky that lowering myself onto the toilet was a real chore.
Rather than wallow in my aches and pains, I resolved to drive them away with a short run on the treadmill. Bracing myself with a hand on each bannister, I limped downstairs. For the uninitiated, this probably does sound like a literal descent into madness — another run less than 24 hours after clocking 21 miles and growing prodigious blisters? Well, the blisters receded quickly as a result of not messing with them. But non-intervention won’t cure sore, lactic acid-laden limbs.
Last week I received my Brooks Transcends. I’m surprised I hadn’t heard the initial buzz about these shoes because I have a lot of love for Brooks running shoes and these are really up my alley. I saw an ad for them and immediately thought, There’s my next marathon shoe. It was as though I’d dreamed them into life: a pumped up version of my beloved Brooks Glycerin 11s, the shoes that helped me not just break 2:00 in the half marathon the first time ever (and the first time I wore the Glycerin 11s for more longer than about 5k at a stretch), but absolutely crush it — my time in that pivotal race was sub-1:55. I generally like cushioning over the long haul. And for recovery days.
Today was certainly a recovery day and a great opportunity to bust out these boat-bottomed behemoths. The sole of the Brooks Transcend under the arch is so wide that I had a hard time standing with the shoes clear of the treadmill belt so it could start. That sole and midsole geometry looks a little weird, but the eye-popping colors keep this shoe from looking like a therapy or geriatric model. Check out the pictures at the bottom of this post to get an idea of what I’m talking about.
Frankly, I don’t really care what the sole looks like since it feels like marshmallowy clouds beneath my feet. For the second mile of my very brief shamble, I eased the treadmill up to 6:40/mile pace and the shoe responded gamely — I didn’t feel weighed down by the Transcend and my turnover rate increased on pace with the belt, unencumbered. The full contact sole felt buttery smooth under foot. I’m accustomed to this type of shoe and this type of feel from Brooks and I love it. The Transcend does feel like a plusher, more cushioned Glycerin 11. I’m eager to see how these feel on a long run.
This morning’s short run purged some, but not all of my soreness. I’m still stiff, but no longer zombie-like. I surprised myself by upping the speed from a modest 8:20/mph after the first mile — what I had thought would be a death march wasn’t so bad after all. Thanks to this morning’s effort, I’ll be feeling worlds better tomorrow and I’ll be able throw myself into a more fun workout.
This week I cut my mileage in half in order to taper for my upcoming (and my first-ever) 50k race. Distance is my game; the first three miles of a run are often a slog for me but I positively float later, so as my mileage has dropped down to about five or less daily miles, and with multiple rest days, my spirits have plummeted as well.
Aching to put some real ache in my muscles, I leapt at the chance to join my trail running club for an informal group run. I aspire to roll-with-the-punches, laid-back, awesome trail runner status, but I’ve only ever run trails in races, never just for the simple joy of it, so I can’t rightly call myself a real trail runner. I can’t even grow a bushy mountain man beard to help my trail cred.
The planned route for this weekend was about six miles. I decided I’d run to and from the start, about five miles each way, to give myself a solid 16 mile workout and get the long run gorilla off my back.
Funny thing about plans when you’re trail running: you can’t depend on them working out.
When I woke up this morning, I felt like crap on a cracker. Yesterday’s BFit workout involved 150 air squats and 100 kettlebell swings that left my quads and lower back feeling like they’d been hit by a train. Walking was a struggle,
let alone running. Looking at the outside temperature, a bracing 28 degrees, didn’t inspire visions of a fun romp outdoors. Somehow, I talked myself into lacing up anyway.
The hilly miles en route to the group run meet up spot were murder on my already torched quads. An incredibly steep downhill descent the length of a city block further stressed my already fatigued braking muscles. The nearly five miles to the meet up location were tough and slow — so slow that I missed the appointed start time despite having left ample slack time based on my usual speed, but luckily the group hadn’t left yet.
The run itself was an adventure: we clambered over large rocks, scuttled beneath a low bridge like gnarled old trolls, and even hopped a fence. Everyone was friendly and smiling. Trail running is all joy. At one point, the run leader told us that we could up the mileage to seven if we took a small detour. More run, more joy, right? After some grumbling about not having brought water, and about having been lied to too many times on trail runs, the group agreed to tack on the extra distance. It wound up being closer to eight, rather than seven miles. We stopped a few times during the run to let stragglers catch up, so although it was by no means a walk in the park, it wasn’t overly challenging.
Nonetheless, when it was through, I knew that my quads were not up to the punishment of reversing the hilly route back. So rather than run about five hilly miles, I opted to run about eight miles on a flat, paved trail.
I’d eaten a Clif Builder’s Bar before I laced up, then a pack of caffeinated Clif Shot Bloks during the wooded trail portion of my run, for a total of less than 500 calories. Those had been burned off miles and miles ago — my stomach growled ferociously on the way back. I was wearing lugged trail shoes on pavement, with socks I’d worn before, but never in those shoes, and big blisters were growing on the balls of my feet. I drank every drop of water in my hydration pack and thirsted for more. The final miles of this run were far from physically comfortable, but I at peace. Not only that, but I was having the time of my life. I was on a long run, and the taper monster was calmed, at least for the time being.