3:59:43.
That says it all. And doesn't say enough.
With this marathon, I admit that I do not have what it takes to get to 3:45.
I do have what it takes to kill myself to get under 4 hours, though.
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Sunday, April 12, 2015
Spring Break (our Stride)
2016 is rapidly approaching. I started training for the Newport Marathon with Jean. This was going to be The One. We followed an advanced marathoner's training schedule that had us running three 20 milers within 18 weeks and a maximum weekly mileage of 54 miles. Lots of miles. We ran an 18 miler the week before the 20 miler and it felt like garbage the last 8 miles. But the week afterwards, we ran the 20 and I still can't stop thinking about how wonderful and powerful we felt. The last mile we clocked an 8 minute/mile pace. So the program was really working well and we were hitting all our benchmarks for pace workouts. And then Spring Break hit. I sent this as a letter to family. For the record, it is below:
First of all, Briton went to Poland on the 19th, for 11 days on a last-minute work assignment. "We'll be fine," I told him. "Have fun! Don't email or worry about us. Tell us all your stories when you get back!"
The first Saturday of his absence, I ran 20 miles in the morning. A great workout; left me very confident about the upcoming marathon. I hadn't worked any shifts this month so I pulled a 12 hour night shift that night.
Halfway through the shift, my right foot started KILLING me (that bone spur one) -- So I limped around the rest of the shift and all the next day. After work I drove to Heidi's to take a quick nap. I paid her kids to watch ours, including getting them ready for church the next day. That was a good move. We stumbled through the rest of Sunday and got a good night's rest that night.
On Monday I took the kids to the pool. Miles launched himself off the edge, into my arms, but I was too close and he ended up landing his chin squarely on my forehead. Bone on bone. He was gushing blood, I was seeing stars. I take him out of the pool with the little girly ducklings trailing behind me and ask the lifeguard for some first aid and she says, "I can't leave my post." ("What the...?!"). I carried the bloody, crying kid to the office where they bandaged him up and had me fill out an incident report while I'm thinking, "I don't even know where to take Miles for stitches." We have new insurance with Kaiser this year. Oh, to have a cell phone to expedite matters! Instead, we drive home, feeling some sense of URGENCY (not life and death, but, seriously), but needing to call the insurance company for advice on where to go. The verdict was "hospital" because it was late in the afternoon, he might need conscious sedation, etc, etc. 6 stitches. Poor bubba. Miles is totally fine. And extremely cute under the influence of Versed.
On Tuesday I hobbled (on account of residual foot pain) through 14 miles. Wednesday I ran 6. I had a salad for lunch. At 3 p.m., all the sudden I got this sharp, sharp pain in my lower abdomen. The thing is -- this has happened three or four times since last August and goes away within 24 hours. So I was all, like, "Here we go again." Luckily, I'd already started packing up for the camping trip we were going on with the Bruno's and another family the next day. A few loose ends -- like, making The Stew, --- but since we weren't leaving until Thursday afternoon I thought I'd be feeling better soon enough to finish all that stuff.
Except I don't feel better. I drag Syd to gymnastics. Throw up in the bathroom a few times. The pain gets worse; it does subside at times -- like taking a hot bath helped take the edge off, but then it'd come back. I kept throwing up that salad for the rest of the afternoon and night. Until it was just dry heaves and spittle. Too much detail???. That night, I waved helplessly at the kitchen and told the kids to eat cereal for dinner and could the older kids get Miles ready for bed? I stumbled back to bed, moaning and groaning like a cow in labor. I can hear the kids giggling while they get Miles' jammies on. They even brushed his teeth. That was huge blessing -- that is, the kids, this whole time, were being very cooperative (letting them watch a lot of Octonauts probably helped). Talmage even played with Clara and held off on teasing. Miracles.
In the morning, things still weren't better. I'd been up and down all night and was so tired. But I still needed to make the stew! The babysitter came over at 5:30 am, because I was supposed to have a cross-training workout at the gym and by the time I figured this wasn't going to let up, it was too late to cancel. So she came over and I apologized for the mess and explained I was sick, so I wasn't going to workout, but maybe I'd just dash to Winco real quick-like since she was here (and she's probably thinking, "I got up at 5-freakin' a.m. so this crazy lady can go to the store?!?!?!?!"). So there I am, at 5:30 in the morning, not dashing, but stumbling through Winco, picking up stew meat and potatoes. When I got home, Gillian had cleaned up the kitchen. Golden babysitter. And very gracious.
I went back to bed, thinking the stew could wait a few more hours. I had Talmage, "Peel 12 carrots!" Next thing I know, he's chopping them up with a chef knife and I'm thinking, he's going to lose a finger! Stew put on hold again. Around 1 p.m., I couldn't take the pain anymore. I called Michelle Jacobsen to see if Trevon could come over to give me a blessing (since I knew he had taken Spring Break off work) -- That was so wonderful, because I was finally able to stop hyperventilating. And then, Briton CALLED from Poland. He NEVER calls me from work, let alone from Poland. But later, he told me he just had a feeling he needed to call. Totally guided by the Spirit. Michelle had been trying to convince me to go to the hospital, but I was thinking "This always goes away; I don't want to over-react and feel foolish." But hearing Briton say, "Go!" was what I needed to hear.
The kids were worried that the camping trip was going to be cancelled. I called Heidi to give her a status update and she just matter of factly, without batting an eye, said, "We got it figured out." Heather came and picked up the kids and drove them to Silver Falls and was their surrogate mother for the next four days. And Mike, one of the other camping dad's hadn't left yet, so he just picked up hot dogs for everyone for the night I was supposed to provide the stew.
So Michelle takes me to the hospital. They gave me some pain meds that helped a lot; took me for a CT Scan and could tell right away that it was appendicitis (btw, IV contrast makes you feel like you peed your pants, but you don't, it just FEELS like it. Super weird). So they took that sucker out around 6:30 p.m. I spent the night in the hospital. I'd come in with a fever of 102.8 and it took a while to go down. And one episode of hypotension -- blood pressure went down to 74 over something. I was taking vigorous notes on how the nurse was caring for me so I could be a better nurse. She was so top-notch. I kept thinking, "Oh!!! So that's how you do it!!!!" I didn't tell anyone I was a nurse. Except the registrar who remembered me from when Miles came in on Monday. But I told her to keep it a secret. We were real buddies by that time.
Now I'm recovering, but the marathon training is trashed. But, I'm looking at it as an honorable discharge, and I'll try to get into the St. George marathon or somewhere and blast that Boston Qualifier. It's such a relief not to have that pain (I think I have a very low tolerance for pain) and if my previous lower abdominal stuff was related to this struggling appendix, and now it's gone -- well, happy day I will never feel that again. I have a new appreciation for "that my bowels may function properly"; and "health in the navel...". Heidi is keeping my kids until this afternoon. Briton comes home tomorrow afternoon. Sydney spent the night at Sonya's. She didn't want to go to Heidi's "different church." [wry grin]. It should be a low-key day. And I'm feeling so much better. I've even pooped.
You know, some weeks end up being so weird. It's not like I sat down at the beginning of spring break and was like, "Well, on Monday let's take Miles to the ER and on Thursday, why don't I go in and get my appendix removed?" I totally know where to go now, for medical care, within the Kaiser system. Who needs a cell phone? Oh! And I made that stew, finally, on Saturday morning so Heidi could feed it to the troops when they got home from camping.
There were soooo many blessings throughout this ordeal. I really felt like God was aware of me and helped me through it via the help of good friends. From Briton being inspired to call, to the comfort of a priesthood blessing and a reassurance that I would be okay; to all the time Michelle and Alisha spent with me. To Heidi and Heather taking my kids camping, for heaven's sake! Where, I hear, they had a wonderful time. It was even a blessing that it all went down when it did -- instead of a day or two later, while we would have been in the middle of nowhere. I have felt very loved. Not that I didn't feel loved before -- but if you don't feel loved, you should get appendicitis.
First of all, Briton went to Poland on the 19th, for 11 days on a last-minute work assignment. "We'll be fine," I told him. "Have fun! Don't email or worry about us. Tell us all your stories when you get back!"
The first Saturday of his absence, I ran 20 miles in the morning. A great workout; left me very confident about the upcoming marathon. I hadn't worked any shifts this month so I pulled a 12 hour night shift that night.
Halfway through the shift, my right foot started KILLING me (that bone spur one) -- So I limped around the rest of the shift and all the next day. After work I drove to Heidi's to take a quick nap. I paid her kids to watch ours, including getting them ready for church the next day. That was a good move. We stumbled through the rest of Sunday and got a good night's rest that night.
On Monday I took the kids to the pool. Miles launched himself off the edge, into my arms, but I was too close and he ended up landing his chin squarely on my forehead. Bone on bone. He was gushing blood, I was seeing stars. I take him out of the pool with the little girly ducklings trailing behind me and ask the lifeguard for some first aid and she says, "I can't leave my post." ("What the...?!"). I carried the bloody, crying kid to the office where they bandaged him up and had me fill out an incident report while I'm thinking, "I don't even know where to take Miles for stitches." We have new insurance with Kaiser this year. Oh, to have a cell phone to expedite matters! Instead, we drive home, feeling some sense of URGENCY (not life and death, but, seriously), but needing to call the insurance company for advice on where to go. The verdict was "hospital" because it was late in the afternoon, he might need conscious sedation, etc, etc. 6 stitches. Poor bubba. Miles is totally fine. And extremely cute under the influence of Versed.
On Tuesday I hobbled (on account of residual foot pain) through 14 miles. Wednesday I ran 6. I had a salad for lunch. At 3 p.m., all the sudden I got this sharp, sharp pain in my lower abdomen. The thing is -- this has happened three or four times since last August and goes away within 24 hours. So I was all, like, "Here we go again." Luckily, I'd already started packing up for the camping trip we were going on with the Bruno's and another family the next day. A few loose ends -- like, making The Stew, --- but since we weren't leaving until Thursday afternoon I thought I'd be feeling better soon enough to finish all that stuff.
Except I don't feel better. I drag Syd to gymnastics. Throw up in the bathroom a few times. The pain gets worse; it does subside at times -- like taking a hot bath helped take the edge off, but then it'd come back. I kept throwing up that salad for the rest of the afternoon and night. Until it was just dry heaves and spittle. Too much detail???. That night, I waved helplessly at the kitchen and told the kids to eat cereal for dinner and could the older kids get Miles ready for bed? I stumbled back to bed, moaning and groaning like a cow in labor. I can hear the kids giggling while they get Miles' jammies on. They even brushed his teeth. That was huge blessing -- that is, the kids, this whole time, were being very cooperative (letting them watch a lot of Octonauts probably helped). Talmage even played with Clara and held off on teasing. Miracles.
In the morning, things still weren't better. I'd been up and down all night and was so tired. But I still needed to make the stew! The babysitter came over at 5:30 am, because I was supposed to have a cross-training workout at the gym and by the time I figured this wasn't going to let up, it was too late to cancel. So she came over and I apologized for the mess and explained I was sick, so I wasn't going to workout, but maybe I'd just dash to Winco real quick-like since she was here (and she's probably thinking, "I got up at 5-freakin' a.m. so this crazy lady can go to the store?!?!?!?!"). So there I am, at 5:30 in the morning, not dashing, but stumbling through Winco, picking up stew meat and potatoes. When I got home, Gillian had cleaned up the kitchen. Golden babysitter. And very gracious.
I went back to bed, thinking the stew could wait a few more hours. I had Talmage, "Peel 12 carrots!" Next thing I know, he's chopping them up with a chef knife and I'm thinking, he's going to lose a finger! Stew put on hold again. Around 1 p.m., I couldn't take the pain anymore. I called Michelle Jacobsen to see if Trevon could come over to give me a blessing (since I knew he had taken Spring Break off work) -- That was so wonderful, because I was finally able to stop hyperventilating. And then, Briton CALLED from Poland. He NEVER calls me from work, let alone from Poland. But later, he told me he just had a feeling he needed to call. Totally guided by the Spirit. Michelle had been trying to convince me to go to the hospital, but I was thinking "This always goes away; I don't want to over-react and feel foolish." But hearing Briton say, "Go!" was what I needed to hear.
The kids were worried that the camping trip was going to be cancelled. I called Heidi to give her a status update and she just matter of factly, without batting an eye, said, "We got it figured out." Heather came and picked up the kids and drove them to Silver Falls and was their surrogate mother for the next four days. And Mike, one of the other camping dad's hadn't left yet, so he just picked up hot dogs for everyone for the night I was supposed to provide the stew.
So Michelle takes me to the hospital. They gave me some pain meds that helped a lot; took me for a CT Scan and could tell right away that it was appendicitis (btw, IV contrast makes you feel like you peed your pants, but you don't, it just FEELS like it. Super weird). So they took that sucker out around 6:30 p.m. I spent the night in the hospital. I'd come in with a fever of 102.8 and it took a while to go down. And one episode of hypotension -- blood pressure went down to 74 over something. I was taking vigorous notes on how the nurse was caring for me so I could be a better nurse. She was so top-notch. I kept thinking, "Oh!!! So that's how you do it!!!!" I didn't tell anyone I was a nurse. Except the registrar who remembered me from when Miles came in on Monday. But I told her to keep it a secret. We were real buddies by that time.
Now I'm recovering, but the marathon training is trashed. But, I'm looking at it as an honorable discharge, and I'll try to get into the St. George marathon or somewhere and blast that Boston Qualifier. It's such a relief not to have that pain (I think I have a very low tolerance for pain) and if my previous lower abdominal stuff was related to this struggling appendix, and now it's gone -- well, happy day I will never feel that again. I have a new appreciation for "that my bowels may function properly"; and "health in the navel...". Heidi is keeping my kids until this afternoon. Briton comes home tomorrow afternoon. Sydney spent the night at Sonya's. She didn't want to go to Heidi's "different church." [wry grin]. It should be a low-key day. And I'm feeling so much better. I've even pooped.
You know, some weeks end up being so weird. It's not like I sat down at the beginning of spring break and was like, "Well, on Monday let's take Miles to the ER and on Thursday, why don't I go in and get my appendix removed?" I totally know where to go now, for medical care, within the Kaiser system. Who needs a cell phone? Oh! And I made that stew, finally, on Saturday morning so Heidi could feed it to the troops when they got home from camping.
There were soooo many blessings throughout this ordeal. I really felt like God was aware of me and helped me through it via the help of good friends. From Briton being inspired to call, to the comfort of a priesthood blessing and a reassurance that I would be okay; to all the time Michelle and Alisha spent with me. To Heidi and Heather taking my kids camping, for heaven's sake! Where, I hear, they had a wonderful time. It was even a blessing that it all went down when it did -- instead of a day or two later, while we would have been in the middle of nowhere. I have felt very loved. Not that I didn't feel loved before -- but if you don't feel loved, you should get appendicitis.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Insanity
Well, there was that little miserable race last September that needs recording in the annals of history on this little corner of the internet.
Ran the Oregon Marathon and got my worst time ever. It wasn't because of the torrential downpour the entire time or the lack of course support, tho' those factors didn't help. I definitely didn't train up as well as I should have. I think I lost my respect for the distance somewhere along the line.
I'm starting this year working on building strength and speed. I'm into "month two" of the Insanity program. This is a home workout video. It's a kick in the pants to do it with the kids. Several times the whole family has gotten into it (except for one or two kids who sit on the couch and watch. What the ...?!?!?) -- Miles even kicks up his feet for high knees, raises his hands for jumping jacks, and crouches on the floor like he's Tough Stuff doing "push ups". If nothing else, it's a good influence on the kids. It's particularly effective for "getting the lead out" in the late afternoon. They fight less when they're pooped. So, I've got huge muscles now and as soon as I get my gumption up, I'll hit the track for sprints or whatever. Is the plan.
Race schedule for this year is the Luckython (maybe, not for sure) and a 1/2 marathon in Utah in July (probably). Is my commitment super obvious?
Ran the Oregon Marathon and got my worst time ever. It wasn't because of the torrential downpour the entire time or the lack of course support, tho' those factors didn't help. I definitely didn't train up as well as I should have. I think I lost my respect for the distance somewhere along the line.
I'm starting this year working on building strength and speed. I'm into "month two" of the Insanity program. This is a home workout video. It's a kick in the pants to do it with the kids. Several times the whole family has gotten into it (except for one or two kids who sit on the couch and watch. What the ...?!?!?) -- Miles even kicks up his feet for high knees, raises his hands for jumping jacks, and crouches on the floor like he's Tough Stuff doing "push ups". If nothing else, it's a good influence on the kids. It's particularly effective for "getting the lead out" in the late afternoon. They fight less when they're pooped. So, I've got huge muscles now and as soon as I get my gumption up, I'll hit the track for sprints or whatever. Is the plan.
Race schedule for this year is the Luckython (maybe, not for sure) and a 1/2 marathon in Utah in July (probably). Is my commitment super obvious?
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Helvetia Half Marathon
First major milestone: check.
I didn't follow Hal Higdon's training program as religiously as I should have -- i.e. the race was a little more painful than it could have been. It was revelatory that my finish time was only 2 minutes slower than when I ran it in 2011 -- when I thought I was at peak fitness. This makes me wonder if I'm even capable of hitting an 8:30 min/mile ever.
But I'm still holding the course. Time will tell. Brit and I registered to run the Oregon Marathon on September 28. My goal is to run it in under 4 hours. i.e. a 3:59.
Back to Helvetia. I love that run -- the countryside course and the hamburgers at the finish. This year one of the YW ran the 1/2 -- on the same day she graduated. It was a cool day for her. A few of the other YW ran/walked the 10K, as well. We all got to run for free -- a perk from helping out at Hippie Chick.
I didn't follow Hal Higdon's training program as religiously as I should have -- i.e. the race was a little more painful than it could have been. It was revelatory that my finish time was only 2 minutes slower than when I ran it in 2011 -- when I thought I was at peak fitness. This makes me wonder if I'm even capable of hitting an 8:30 min/mile ever.
But I'm still holding the course. Time will tell. Brit and I registered to run the Oregon Marathon on September 28. My goal is to run it in under 4 hours. i.e. a 3:59.
Back to Helvetia. I love that run -- the countryside course and the hamburgers at the finish. This year one of the YW ran the 1/2 -- on the same day she graduated. It was a cool day for her. A few of the other YW ran/walked the 10K, as well. We all got to run for free -- a perk from helping out at Hippie Chick.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Stats
I've been informed that link to my Garmin webpage doesn't work if you don't have my loggin. So here are some other stats that might be even more interesting ....
Boston, Bust: 40 1/2 inches
(I'm not bragging).
Waist: 33 (larger than Briton's, but I've still managed to keep the same shoe size as him. Now I'm bragging).
Bicep: 11 (not muscle, though. so bicep might be misleading).
Hips: 38 1/2
Body fat: 31.6%
BMI, according to the device thingy at the gym: 26.4 (overweight).
Weight: 142. pounds, that is. in case you were thinking kilograms.
Gobbler: 3. Inches, that is. Not 3 gobblers. There are only 2.
I think what these numbers tell you is that I am shaped like this:
O
Boston, Bust: 40 1/2 inches
(I'm not bragging).
Waist: 33 (larger than Briton's, but I've still managed to keep the same shoe size as him. Now I'm bragging).
Bicep: 11 (not muscle, though. so bicep might be misleading).
Hips: 38 1/2
Body fat: 31.6%
BMI, according to the device thingy at the gym: 26.4 (overweight).
Weight: 142. pounds, that is. in case you were thinking kilograms.
Gobbler: 3. Inches, that is. Not 3 gobblers. There are only 2.
I think what these numbers tell you is that I am shaped like this:
O
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Garmin and Go!
Well, well. Look who has a fancy Garmin. Briton (er, Santa) noticed how jazzed I got recording my mileage in 2011, so he thought a Garmin would be a good motivator for Boston. He done gone and thought correctly. It is a very cool tool. A Garmin-user can log onto the Garmin website and upload all the info from their runs. I really like seeing the actual mileage I run, as I'm running. I also like seeing my pace. The mile split beep is my new favorite sound (YES! I hear it TWO times now, per run!!!!). But most funnest of ever is thinking that a satellite up in outer space is watching my every movement. Sometimes I make a quick dart to the left or right. See that, satellite??? I say. When I upload the info, my exact run is right there on the map -- step for step. Pretty nifty. Oh? And did I hear you complain that it's not for you because you want to know your elevation gain and loss and average mile pace? Ha. It does that, too. That's just the whipping cream on top. I mean, the Gu on top.
Since I plan to post other measurements here, I have no shame in showing you this link. I will disclaim, however, that I walked the first five minutes and overall ran a tad slower on account of pushing Clara in the jogging stroller. She knows how to smell the roses -- we admired every fire hydrant and the abundant geese population on the pond. It was fun to share the road with her.
But seriously, a 10:51 mile and I need to get it down to a 8:35 mile. A dubious journey.
Since I plan to post other measurements here, I have no shame in showing you this link. I will disclaim, however, that I walked the first five minutes and overall ran a tad slower on account of pushing Clara in the jogging stroller. She knows how to smell the roses -- we admired every fire hydrant and the abundant geese population on the pond. It was fun to share the road with her.
But seriously, a 10:51 mile and I need to get it down to a 8:35 mile. A dubious journey.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Rave Run
"Rave Run" is a little bit of an elevated description at this point (no pun on the pic intended). Last month Brit and I (and Miles) marked our anniversary in Yachats, OR. We walked around a short trail and caught this view. The run (by which I mean, I was more "huffling" than running) - was along the shoreline just north of this view. The crashing waves were beautiful. By the way, I learned that all that white, bubbly, foam is sign of a healthy ocean.
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