Providence...

Last week after my less than stellar performance in Portland, I was seriously doubting whether I had the where with all to run yet another half marathon in 4 weeks.  Those mental demons came calling in huge way (especially along I95 at midnight in CT with a screaming hip):  I've got an old body, and pounding on it doesn't make it any younger. I'm never, ever going to win a race, so what's the point. Really? And what is it exactly I'm trying to prove?

All week, I tried brushing them aside.  I continued along my typical training (3-4 days, 3-4 miles each time), even throwing some hills into the mix, but meh.  But the mojo just wasn't there.

And then Friday night came. And with it, the Olympic opening ceremonies.  I confess--I LOVE the Olympics.  I love what they stand for, and I love watching ALL the events (except beach volleyball and the ribbon gymnastics--don't quite get that one). I love that athletes work their hearts out for their one shot, and most go home disappointed empty-handed.  I scratched out 'disappointed' because really, are they disappointed?  Maybe, if the medal podium was in sight and they flubbed up, yep, I'd say disappointed, but I'm betting most go in aiming for a personal best, and they know that even that personal best is unlikely to get them a medal.  But they show up anyways. For the honor of representing their country, for the challenge of competing against the best in the world in their sport, and maybe even for the fun of it.

I'll never win any medals with my running, but I do enjoy the challenge, and I still find running lots of fun.  So keeping that in mind, I was determined to not skip my Sunday's long run (10 miles), and I decided that instead of going it alone, I'd get out there with the Sunday group at my local Fleet Feet. I've always found this group to be slightly intimidating--Fleet Feet does plenty of 3 mile runs--but this group runs 6-10+ miles and most are training for one event or another.  They are experienced and fast. I showed up anyways.  And found myself running in tandem with two other men and one other woman.  The three of them needed 14 for their run, so after 8, I split off to head back to the store (two miles to go) while they went off for another 6 (!).  I finished strong at 10.67 miles in 1h54.  That was all I needed.

I'll be in Providence, all laced up and ready to go in a speed-appropriate coral and with a great game plan that will see me through successfully to the end of the race.  

The Olympics is inspiring in more ways than one.  Several winter games ago, the Yarn Harlot held what she called the Knit Olympics, in which knitters picked a project to start and complete within the timeframe of the games.  I LOVE challenges like this, and since I spend too much time in front of the TV anyways during the games, it was a great way to get a sweater out of it.  The Knit Olympics were a one-time deal, but I still challenge myself to the same thing every two years--knit a sweater within the two weeks.  For London, Bedford is my project. And after one day of viewing, here's where I am:

This is a scary project for me because I'm not sure I have enough yarn.  And I don't have a back-up.  This was hand-spun yarn I bought in Vermont last fall at the Vermont Sheep & Wool.  I have 5 skeins, and I'm hoping there are at least 300 yards per skein, which should give me enough. Even if it's 250, i'll be ok.  maybe.  

So, if the stars are aligned (and the weather cools down), I'll be driving to Providence on August 19, run my race well, and wrap myself up in Bedford for the drive home. And that sounds just about perfect to me...

Taper

"Taper"

This has become a private joke between a coworker and myself.  His goal: to run half marathons in all 50 states before he's 40.  Since I'm beyond 40, I eschewed any sort of goal, but somehow I've still gotten all caught up in this running habit.

So Sunday, coworker will be in Chicago to check Illinois off his list, and I'll be in Maine, just because it's beautiful, my brother lives there, and I need to pick up Thing 2 from his house. 

"Taper"

Does not mean go out for Happy Hour that starts at 11am on the day before a race (as we did in Phoenix).

"Taper"

Since our races are on Sunday, that means we should both be "tapering" now.  Honestly, I think I've been tapering since my boot came off May 31.  Which makes me slightly nervous--having trained for (and then pulled out of) the NJ Half Marathon, I now know what being in good form for a race is all about.  And I'm not there.  But I'm "tapering" anyways.  However, I spoke to my sister last night (she's running with me), and it appears as though she's been "tapering" for quite a while as well.

This will be interesting. 

So good to be home

I live in a state (NJ) that has a lot NOT going for it--from it's lack of its own media market (being sandwiched between NY and Phily) to the trainwreck aka The Jersey Shore, my state is often maligned. 

The one thing going for NJ, though, is its runners greet each other. This morning I headed out for my 3 mile loop, and every runner and cyclist I passed on the way either nodded, waved, or called out 'good morning.'  Not the case in Indianapolis.  Which I found so strange.  The service people there were uber-nice--friendly with advice and good cheer.  The runners, though?  Different story. Nobody waved or nodded or said 'good morning.' NOBODY.  Maybe because it was a running trail and these folks were all so expert?  Or it's a city therefore people appreciate their anonimity? I'm not quite sure of the reason, but I've got to say, although I'm not a fan of superficial greetings, I do appreciate the early morning comraderie of the wave of the hand, or nod of the head.  It's a bit of a boost at 6am.

So good to be home amongst my peeps!

Not Knitting,

not running, 

but OMG, so much fun!

 

Musings on Juneathon, and so much more

We're back from Vacationland, and for me, just in time to re-pack my suitcase for Indianapolis (!). The washing machine's spinning at full blast, and I've got a few minutes to sit back and recollect on my Juneathon effort.

I LOVED JUNEATHON! So much fun.  Coming off an injury (boot came off on May 31), I wasn't sure how much I'd be able to participate with regards to the running, but I figured the Juneathon obligation would keep me motivated and happy with body weight and kettlebell workouts.  And it did.  Particpating also made me realize that almost every runner experiences some sort of injury that keeps them out of the game for a bit.  I am a newer runner, so this first injury felt like a slap in the face.  Now I realize that it's not a deal breaker, and it gives you ample time to sample other activities under the guise of "cross training." So thanks HennieMavis and others for bringing that truth home for me.

I also gained a HUGE amount of respect for all the Juneathoners who put up with their completely craptastic weather--so much so that on my 2nd workout in Maine, I didn't even bother to hurry home when the skies opened up.  I vow to keep my mouth shut about the weather until Janathon--only then may I have something to complain about.

I am also so impressed with everyone's effort--from jogblog who organizes the entire project, to all the -athoners who are diligent and serious runners (random ultra newbie!), but who also can poke fun at themselves (like linswoo!), and who are all really entertaining and interesting writers (so many I can't even begin to mention and link...).  It's been a real pleasure to read everyone else's blog posts.  As a result of Juneathon, I now have more running blogs in my reader than knitting blogs.  

While I know my NJ friends will be glad to have me stop talking about Juneathon and relating all the great posts, I think I will miss this "festival" a lot.  So thanks to all the Juneathoners who made this past month so enjoyable--I can't wait til January!