Monday, August 31, 2009

I will not quit on Day 3 when Day 2 was a rest day.

I'm working to psych myself up for tomorrow's early rising to run, because I will not quit on Day 3 when Day 2 was a rest day.

Here's what I've got so far:

Day 2 was a rest day, so don't quit, you moron.

As I type this, there is a young woman roughly 15 years younger than me who is running across the United States. Just to inspire others to achieve their goals. She's sleeping in stranger's houses, on their sofas and guest beds and probably even their camp cots and aero beds, to help other people. She can get her ass out of bed to run 17 miles in the middle of nowhere, Kansas, I can get my ass out of bed to run at the track.

Pain is temporary. Pride lasts forever.

What else do I have to do on a Tuesday morning? At least if I lose sleep, I'll be tired tomorrow night. Did I mention I have chronic insomnia? And that it's exacerbated by prednisone? And that I'm currently taking prednisone?

My hip hurts. Get up from your desk chair and stretch, moron.

Sunrise is at roughly 6:30 a.m. tomorrow. My rise will be at roughly 6:30 a.m. tomorrow. I have a flashlight.

There will be chocolate milk and egg mcblankies. (Blankies is my last name, which I'm not posting here since I strive to some semblance of privacy.)

I can have one of the good sugar cookies tomorrow when I get in to work, if I get my butt out of bed at o'dark thirty and RUN.

No one will send me on a cruise to Mexico if I quit on Day 3 after Day 2 was a rest day.

--the CilleyGirl

To sleep, to run; perchance to die: Days 1 and 2.

Good morning, thank you, and welcome to the part of my world where I will run. Or die trying.

As some of you may know from my other blog, in 2009 one of my new year resolutions was to run a 5K by the end of the summer.

Next week is Labor Day, the official end of summer. If you had to pick.

I have not yet made my goal.

Like any other runner (I hope), my training has had obstacles. A busy summer work schedule capped off by working 19 consecutive days without a break. A summer where Cilleyland underwent several heat waves. A good stretch of training cut brutally short by, of all things, my painful understanding of what happens when you tie your shoes too tight.

So, a new training plan goes into effect as of yesterday. I'm following a training plan contained in a book written by a non-marathon runner who went from recliner to marathon in four months. The book suggests journaling about your journey, let's see how it goes.

My main challenges? Heck, there's really only one: my brain. My stupid, hedonistic, procrastinating brain. Bastard.

Here's where we are so far.

Day 1: The training starts with a Sunday, which I like. Mondays always seem set up to fail, don't they? Because they're Mondays. It's weird to start on a Tuesday, by Wednesday what's the point, at Thursday your week is almost done, who wants to start a training program on Friday, and now it's Saturday but there's stuff to get done so Sunday it is.

I'm doing the runners training plan. I could do the walkers, but (a) I walk really slow (seriously slow) and (b) I can run. So, I'm going to run. Or die trying. On Sunday, I had to run (consider that synonymous with run/walk until further notice, probably characterized by a notice that I'm in the ER) for 35 minutes. I usually do my running for 45 minutes, not counting the 10 minute walk each way to the track, so easy stuff.

Did I mention my evil brain?

I've ran like maybe four times this month, once for a race. I run better at races, mostly because I live in fear of being last. Particularly when the other racers are pushing double wide strollers (hate them!) or are under the age of 10. On the track, I don't have that motivation of not being last. It's just me. Listening to my iPod and my evil brain. My mantra that day was a mix of "I can, I will, I'm able" and "I get chocolate milk and scrambled eggs after this." With the exception of two laps that I did run (not consecutively, however), I walked most of this 35 minutes. In my excuse, I am a couple of days into treatment for a sinus infection and I should have used my inhaler prior to running. I did get chocolate milk and scrambled eggs after my run. And an upset stomach and a headache.

But I did it.

Lessons learned today: Leave the shoes alone (I still have tying issues). Eat before you run or you will have no energy to combat the evil voice in your head. For a while, I let not my aching legs dictate my run but my bellybutton. Until my stomach started to hurt. Then I let my right elbow lead the way, but my right elbow is fairly disinterested in this process.

Day 2: Day 2 is a rest day on the schedule, which I can do with both feet tied behind my back. My goal today was to get up earlier than I usually do to have a smoothie for breakfast. I got up, but not as early as I hoped (15 minutes after). The smoothie was a little disappointing; no discernible peach taste whatsoever. My stomach is still not happy, which may or may not be because of the smoothie.

Preview: Tomorrow I think I run 35 minutes again. The trick will be getting out the door by 6:30 a.m. to do so. Wish me luck.

Scary idea: If I run a marathon, will you send me on a cruise? I figure if two thousand people send me a dollar each, that will pay for the cruise. Provided I survive.

the CilleyGirl