Forced Rest

I’m not even sure where to begin.

I guess we could start with how my gym routine had been going.

Lackluster. The theme of last week.

We all know when it’s time to take a few days off. When you need more than just the obligatory rest day of the week. A break of a few days. Maybe because your body is showing signs of exhaustion. Maybe because your motivation is nonexistent.

I was going through all of that. However, by being a creature of habit, admitting it wasn’t likely.

Then Friday happened.

That Amy carries herself with such grace and poise. Said no one ever.

Clumsy. Accident-prone. Hot mess.

I pretend these things are “endearing”. “Adorable”.

Don’t tell me otherwise.

So when we called Friday a “night in” and changed into lounge pants and hurry down the steep hardwood stairs in my apartment?

How I made it 18 months without doing it is beyond me. But you can imagine the spectacle that happened to cause 3 matching bruises, one for each stair, that my backside slammed into in one spectacularly grand motion.

I’m personally partial to the bruise on my booty. It’s a prettier shade of purple than the rest.

At least a cracked tailbone didn’t occur like the last time I flew down stairs in socks.

Win?

Maybe. My lower back seems to have gotten the worst of it. Needless to say, I haven’t seen the inside of my gym since last week. Nor have I lifted anything heavier than my work bag.

Whether I like it or not, it seems to be this is the chosen week for a break from exercise.

I’m a little perturbed I wasn’t allowed to make this choice on my own, or just taken 2-3 days instead of 4-5. But it’s time to stop dwelling on it.

At least, since it’s the holidays, I have plenty to do.

And now that I’m in two book clubs, hilariously since I can barely keep up with one, there’s that.

And all the friends I can meet up with for foodie dates with awesome bloggie peeps. Especially awesome peeps who live in my neck of the woods and our meetups (although a rare occasion) are nonstop gab fests.

Got adventurous and went with the Healthy Parm with chicken and quinoa. A possible new favorite…

Now that I think about it, that extra hourish of sleep in the morning has been nice…

Don’t feel bad for me just yet.

Now if this stretches into next week…

… someone may lose their head…

30 Degree Swings

Seriously kids… how gorgeous was it where you were this weekend?

Yesterday, November 10th, it was almost 70 degrees.

And here I thought I wouldn’t get to run outside again until March.

After passing out on the sofa at maybe 10pm Saturday night (party animal!), my neck was completely screwed, but the rest of me felt more refreshed than I’ve felt in a long time on a Sunday morning.

Out the door I went.

Running through the neighborhoods and the lakefront is way better than my routine during the week in the winter months when I usually take to the treadmill. Because instead of just staring stupidly at the crappy videos playing on one of the generic music stations at the gym, I’m actually thinking about stuff.

Important stuff. Like recent news headlines. Or what to wear next weekend.

Or today, where I did think about the two things mentioned above (I’m so indecisive on boot decisions…), but also what I’ll miss as it slowly becomes frozen and buried under snow.

Ok… so I won’t miss the random homeless guy peeing in a bush at an intersection. But the other things- like how pretty the lake is, the amazing skyline that slowly unfolds before me, or the random art that shows up around every other turn.

Ooooohhhhhh prettttyyy colorrrrsssss….

4 miles done. 4 miles that reminded me I’ve slacked since the last half marathon and I’m already somewhat ruined by my lazy treadmill runs. But 4 miles, nonetheless.

Today is supposed to be approximately 30 degrees cooler than the weekend. I’ve prepared by breaking out the extra comforter and sexy sweatpants. The roommate and I have reclaimed our crock pot after it being held hostage for 8 months at a friend’s house (still bitter). We’ve stocked up on pasta and wine.

We’ve entered hibernation mode. But that’s ok. I’m ready for it. There’s always the liquor store down the street in case I run out of wine.

Bring it on, Chicago.

Hot Chocolate Chicago 15k: From the Other Side

Being up at 4:00 on a Sunday morning was rough. But since my presence was necessary at 5:30 down in Grant Park, you do what you’ve got to do.

It’s all for the runners.

And the chocolate. If we’re being honest.

I was volunteering at the Hot Chocolate 15k/5k, and what do you know? They put my group in the fondue tent.

Dream. Come. True. Or so I thought.

This was a 15k I’ve ran the last two years. And to be honest, I didn’t particularly enjoy it either time. Simply put, I’m not a cold weather runner and the race is way too big for my liking.

Or for anyone’s liking, from what it sounds like. Races that grow beyond their capacity quickly become disorganized disasters. But because I’m a fan of chocolate and everything it stands for, why not take myself out of the equation and be part of the solution by volunteering for it?

Well. Here’s why.

It all started when Google told me the brown line would be running at 4:30 in the morning. It wasn’t. So I had no choice but to run the mile to the red line train in hopes of not being late.

The red line runs all night, which is quite obvious. Because it smells like pee.

Funny thing about that, though- I made it to the stop just in time to witness last call at the 5:00 bars. This means I took the red line, which smells like pee, with a bunch of drunken club-goers who got an additional hour of party time due to daylight savings.

Serenity now.

When I finally made it downtown. I’ve been to races early. But this was just eerie.

Got to the volunteer race tent easily enough. Could not find where to go after that. Asked around. Waited. Asked some more. Finally found a girl who was also working in the fondue tent and we realized the rest of those volunteers had managed to group up without being announced and walk away without us.

So we get to the tent and get our assignments. And do nothing for an hour until the race ends.

The crowds came. In masses. People shouting. No one knows where things should go. Shortages of everything- help, food, containers…

Then, the unthinkable happens. I was in the first line to run out of fondue.

When the name of the race is the “Hot Chocolate” race, DO NOT be in the line that runs out of chocolate. Just don’t.

People raged. Which is fair. I would have, too. But I can’t make more appear out of thin air, either. I was not the one in charge to go pick up the chocolate. I believe RAM Racing was. BIG FAIL.

It may be time to disassociate myself from this race from here on out. Not impressive on either side of the spectrum. I love a lot of RAM events (Bucktown… still cool in my book). But this one is officially too big. A shame, too, because it’s a “first race” for a lot of people. Not a great introduction into the racing community.

And no… I didn’t walk away with any chocolate.

Instead, I just walked away tired. And lacking caffeine.

Win some, lose some.

It’s always interesting to be on the other side of a race. And for the runners who thanked us for being there? It’s very much appreciated.

But man… that sucked.

Moving on…

In all honesty, I’m glad it’s Monday. Rarely is that said. But when I have dinner plans and movie night. Not with the same person.

What can I say? I’m popular…

Happy Hour Happenings

I’m not quite sure what it is, but whenever there is a need to share important information, a happy hour seems to be one of the favorite ways to do it.

Who can resist drink specials and bar food?

Anyway, I haven’t been able to join Lauren and her Team Challenge group for their weekly runs recently. And since that’s the time we use to gossip while the rest of the group logs hard-core mileage, we decided maybe we should just call it what it is and sit on our butts to chat instead. And eat pizza. Obvi.

Lauren said she was picky. And then proceeded to list off my favorite toppings as the ones she’d eat. Black olives, mushrooms, and pepperoni. Love.

Storytelling is way easier that way.

Which reminds me, I believe we’d both like to publicly apologize to the people in the booth behind us. You had no warning of the things you’d overhear. It wasn’t fair.

Anyway, after all the pizza and garlic knots (um… yum), it only seemed fair to get physical activity in this morning.

Which, after half-priced bottles, isn’t always the greatest. But then again, if I continue to have dates and happy hours every day of the week, I’m just going to have to suck it up and deal.

Being a social butterfly. It’s like totally super hard. #firstworldproblems

So yes, I had my first run this morning since the half marathon. 4.9 miles outside because this randomly warm weather will never last and I’m determined to take advantage of it as much as possible.

It feels weird to not have a race in the pipeline. But since I’m still seemingly motivated to get up before 5:00 to do something productive, I’m just going to enjoy the lack of stress from not having an end goal.

Freeballin’ it, ya’ll.

We’ll see how long it lasts.

And being as how I can’t seem to connect one thought to another in this post, and figuring out a way to eloquently wrap this up is not going to happen, I should just quit while I’m ahead and consider scheduling in a few nap times over the weekend.

K, bye.

ZOOMA Great Lakes Half Marathon: The Neverending Hill

The most well-deserved after-race medal/award I’ve ever earned.

Truth.

This last weekend, us ZOOMA ambassadors reunited, along with a few more awesome Chicago bloggers/runners in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. Our weekend had finally come- The ZOOMA Great Lakes Half Marathon.

We rented a lake house, officially dubbed the party house, and had ourselves a good time.The house was amazing and we easily fit 14 ladies comfortably for the night.

All we had to do was supply the food.

ssshhh… don’t tell the rest of the healthy living bloggers we may have had more candy than vegetables on site…

If only we didn’t have such a rude 5:00 wakeup call.

Twinsies! Or at least until I became a total baby and decided I was too cold to not dress in layers…

I hope you like bagels and peanut butter… because that’s what you’re eating…

Luckily for me, our breakfast was what I normally eat for prerace. Sometimes it’s awesome us bloggers can be so cliché with our peanut butter.

Because it was a point-to-point race, we met up at the Abbey Resort to get shuttled out to the start line.

Kelly was super pumped we were the cool kids on the back of the bus. Or at least we were self-proclaimed to be. Still counts.

Two hours after waking up, the sun finally starts to rise. So many things wrong with that sentence…

The view was lovely, but the temps were not as nice. We all shivered and shuddered until the start. I opted to keep my long sleeves on- something to be thankful for every time there was a brisk breeze.

So how was the race you ask?

Well.

We were warned about the hills. But even the warnings were not enough to prepare me for what was about to happen.

Turn the first corner, oh hey- a hill.
Congrats, you’ve hit mile marker 2.  Go run up a hill.
You’ve been running on a flat surface for a quarter mile. This is too long, so go run up a hill.
You just finished a subtle incline for a mile. Go run a steep hill.

I truthfully believe I was running uphill for 75% of the race.

The worst was near the end- mile 11. At that point, I was just keeping my head down to avoid the soul crushing inclines ahead of me. But at that particular spot, I looked up. Not one person was running up the hill. It was THAT steep. I attempted my arm-pumping, look like I’m running but in all actuality am barely moving, run. For about 20 feet. Screw this, I’m walking.

I would have cried, but it’s dangerous to dehydrate yourself like that in a race.

So after the half mile from hell (I don’t think it was this long, but that’s what it felt like), we ran a little longer and turned around. To go back down it.

Now, I’ll go ahead and say my love of the stair machine at the gym probably saved my life going up those hills (because we all know I wasn’t training for them on the treadmill). But the downhill? It was so steep. And it took so much energy to slow myself down as I was barreling down, that every time my foot hit the road, my body got a shock to the system. Everything vibrated. With every step.

“This is going to hurt sooooo bad tomorrow.”

But that was about the end of it. Which was good. I was taking a beating. My endurance somehow held up. But my joints weren’t going to take much more.

2:00:04.

10th in my age group. A small race, but I feel it important to throw that out there, anyway.

Some of the ambassadors post race. Smiling. Because it was over. Whew!

And with that, I finished my 5th half marathon.

Check out the sweet compression socks. It’s how a lot of us ambassadors were able to see each other in the distance. And they kept us warm. Duh.

Thank goodness there was wine at the post race. That’s all I have to say about that.

And thank goodness my parents were there to take me to lunch afterwards.

Because I wanted to eat EVERYTHING.

A local brew called Spotted Cow to go with my turkey burger. Because I like diversity.

Oh and more food…

Why yes, the tree of broccoli was quite delicious with my mahi mahi. Thanks for asking.

So yeah. That was my ZOOMA experience. Not my best race time. But not my worst. And with all the hills? I’ll take it.

Plus, I got to see my parents and hang with a bunch of pretty awesome girls for the weekend.

Wine. Jewelry. And a solid girls weekend.

Worth it.

Now excuse me as me and my sore thighs limp on out the door to work…

Laters.

It’s important to mention I ran today.

I ran today.

8 miles. Normally, the week before a half marathon, I do at least 10-11.

But I’ll take what I can get.  And I’ll remember saying this as I struggle through the course in Lake Geneva.

If I don’t, and start to whine, remind me of this.

At least it was outside. The threat of rain and the last lingering hints of my cold had me accepting the idea of doing it all on the treadmill.

But I’m often wreckless and if I mentally wanted to make it past 5-6 miles, it was going to have be to be outside.

And maybe I haven’t done all that hill training as originally discussed, but let’s pretend the wind going on outside is a comparable alternative.

It was horrifically gloomy, but weirdly peaceful. Way better than having to dodge bikers and runners at every turn during the summer.

Anyway… the entire 8 miles let me know that next week won’t be easy, but should be manageable.

It even helped a little that I ran into Meghan- another ZOOMA ambassador!

It must have been a sign.

8 miles. Done.

It’ll have to do.

To wrap up this post, I feel it’s time to say something about my Cardinals.

We just don’t give up, do we?

I will be the first to admit, what is going on right now is a total surprise to me. We’ve done decent all season, but always in the background. I wasn’t planning to watch a playoffs run. Guess I’ll have to rearrange my schedule, eh?

Happy Flight!

Firefly 5k Chicago

I’ve ran races in the evening before. Not a problem.

But in the dark?

Considering my track record of being the biggest klutz of all time, I must have been concussed when signing up for this thing. It’s the only explanation.

Actually, there’s another one.

It was my roommate’s first 5k. And what better race to start out with than one that requires glow sticks?

Totally brings me back to high school. My friends and I thought they were so cool to wear on road trips (because there are SO MANY PEOPLE to see you while driving on a gravel road in the middle of nowhere). Or thrown in a Bacardi bottle because it was preeeetttttyyyy.

Now that I think about it, that was really dangerous. What if the glow stick leaked? I’m sure there’s something on the package about not digesting the contents inside the tube.

I was living on the edge and didn’t even realize it.

Wait… something shiny… what?

Oh yes… So the Firefly 5k…

I absolutely love how creative organizations are getting with theme races. Undie Dash… Elvis is Alive… and now this?

It makes the race a little more fun. Plus, I really like wearing obnoxious colors.

Bailey’s reasoning behind wanting to try a 5k was basically “there’s no reason why I can’t” and I’m so proud of her because she rocked it!

Especially since it was a rough course. Definitely not an “in it to win it” kind of race. Because you will hurt yourself.

Word to the wise? This would be a good street race. The random holes or loose gravel in the trail were seriously dangerous. Because the only warning you got was if the person in front of you said something as they almost sprain their ankle or bite it.

Plus, my legs still are kind of angry at me for last weekend’s half marathon.

And I really just wanted to see Bailey finish. So we ran it together. The whole way. No stopping. I felt like such a proud lil’ mama.

I don’t know my official time. Because, for some reason, it’s not in the results. Which is weird and mildly annoying. My chip must have been defective? However, since Bailey and I were together, I’ll assume it would have also been just over 31 minutes.

Yeah. Her first 5k in 31 minutes. Nailed it!

(Oh and we still have the blinking arm bands. Who wants to go rage?!?!)

Clearly we had to go out and celebrate afterwards.

You’d think we’d be tired. But you’d be thinking wrong.

Our victory outting lasted until the wee hours of the morning and ended with a lil’ party at our pad at 3:30 in the morning.

So you can understand why I’m a wee bit tired still on this Monday morning. The marking of a good weekend.

Carry on…

Next Focus

I tend to have a lot to say after running a half marathon.

Race recap. Post Race indulgences.

Etc. Etc.

Now what?

Well. I’m not in the clear just yet- when it comes to training, anyway.

There’s still ZOOMA going down next month in Lake Geneva.

(Click HERE to sign up and use the promo “GLAMB1” for a discount on registration!)

No lie- I hesitated when first approached with the opportunity to be an ambassador. Mostly because I have a tendency to suffer serious burnout.

However, I currently feel awesome and am still pretty excited about a mini-destination race. And yes- crossing state borders makes this a “destination”. I don’t travel much.

My only real concern is the course itself.

Us Chicago kids are completely spoiled and I’ll be the first to admit it.

Our courses are flat. Flat. And, dependent on where the race is, even more flat.

Hence my nonexcitement after the Go! St. Louis Half in 2011. Even long gradual inclines give me something to whine about.

So….

The rest of this week is still me doing what I want- which may include a half-assed workout here or there. I only took one official day of rest, and my first run post race was Tuesday night. Nothing exciting or crazy. It was approximately two very slow miles.

Next week? That’s when we get back into the swing of things. And take on a new challenge in training.

Remember how I’m not a big fan of speed intervals? I have a feeling they’ll be a cake walk compared to the hill workouts coming my way. They’ll have to be created on the treadmill due to lack of resources in Chicago (did I not mention how flat this city is?), which makes it worse for my attention span.

But how are we supposed to grow as human beings without a little challenge here and there?

Right?
Right.

But that can wait until next week. I earned my lazy workouts this week and shall enjoy them accordingly.

Happy Thursday!

Done

About now is probably the time to look back on the latest training cycle and discuss how ready I am for the half marathon this weekend.

Well. I’m not.

My summer was busy and time slipped away. This probably explains my decision to not train for a half last fall. Can’t believe I forgot how hard it is to fit in a long run when all I really want to do it sit on a patio with some Lagunitas.

However, it wasn’t all so bad. My running was pretty consistent. I managed to fake an interest in free weights once or twice a week. And I even accomplished a few long runs during the week- versus skipping them entirely.

Sure, I’ll finish and do fine. Physically I’m up for it. Mentally, I’m not quite ready. But that’s why I employ my ipod to distract such negative thoughts. Will I PR like I hoped at the beginning of training? That’s up for debate.

Conditions are forecasted to be perfect. It’s supposed to be a beautiful day for it on Sunday. A couple of my cousins are running it, too. And there are big plans for breakfast with the family and a dinner out with this girl.

Good things are going down on Sunday. I can’t complain. Even if it’s not my fastest.

But anyway, yesterday was my last run and I made it an early morning 4-miler.

Felt fabulous the entire time. Really, there’s no other way to put it. I mean… I guess there could be complaining done about the music video stations at the gym and how they should never ever include slow songs. But that seems to be a first world problem. So I won’t go there right now.

It was a great way to officially end this round of training.

Hopefully on Sunday, the next 9 will go just as easily.

In the meantime?

Loading up on protein and carbs.

Chicken sausage and peppers sautéed with a little soy sauce. My addiction of the week.

Putting up my feet the next two days.

Maybe enjoying a movie or two.

This is the easy part of training. Holla’.

Happy weekend, ya’ll.

In ZOOMA news…

There’s a new giveaway on the ZOOMA blog! Go check it out!

Long Run Repeated

At some point over Laura’s weekend visit, we danced ourselves silly and uncomfortably sore.

High heels, although worn only one night out of the two, were a poor choice.

Especially since I ended up breaking the right heel off of said high heels. And no, we won’t get into the how or why behind it. Just know it happened and move on with your day. K, thanks.

Anyway. The shins have felt better, but they’ve improved significantly since the weekend. No reason to not be running.

And because I’ll be on my way out of town and off to celebrate a wedding and labor day, there wasn’t much choice but to pull yet another mid-week run of 10(ish) miles. Because it’s much harder than you think it is to convince friends you’re staying with to go on a 10-mile run with you super early on a Saturday morning.

I don’t get it, either.

But it is what it is and I chugged along the lakefront much like I did the week before. Not my ideal circumstances, but not a horrible experience, either. It seems to be my best, and fastest, few miles are between 7 and 9. A promising sign, since that used to be about the time I’d hit the wall.

The only incident? When I slow-motion ran into a couple on the sidewalk.

Generally, there’s plenty of room for passing.
Generally, people aren’t swaying back and forth, creating a human wall.
Generally, when I sweetly say “I’m sorry, excuse me” in advance, they hear me.
Generally, people don’t turn in complete surprise and jump to the same side as I do when I realize they were oblivious to absolutely everything around them.

I was practically at a stop even before I reached them because I knew I wasn’t getting by. It was like a dance to get out of each other’s way.

And because we seemed to be on the same wavelength with our movements, I just sorta… fell into her. Slow motion.

Strange. Awkward. Embarrassing.

So there was that.

Because I can’t get through even one day without at least one awkward encounter.

After that, I just picked up my dignity, brushed it off, and ran the rest of my 10.1 miles in peace.

Guess it coulda been worse.

And in ZOOMA news…

There’s a facebook contest going on! We’re looking for your ugliest race photos!

We’ve all got them. I don’t think I actually have a good one, now that I think about it.

Anyway, if you post your best one on the ZOOMA facebook page, you’ve got a chance to win an awesome prize pack when they randomly select a winner!

Or, you can just go and look at the ugly pics for entertainment purposes. There’s that, too… 

Laters!