Running. Lifting.Blogging. and LiviNG lIFE IN THE hAWKEYE sTATE!!!

CATCH ME IF YOU CAN

CATCH ME IF YOU CAN

    Catchy title, right?! And it would have made a whole lot more sense if this post was just about yesterday's run and how fan-freaking-tastic it was. But, noooooo, I was "too busy" to put out a post dedicated solely to that epic run. So, here we are trying to cram two completely opposite runs into one post that will make like zero sense. Oh, and did I mention this might be the last post until December 26th?! Good grief, I now totally understand where Charlie Brown was coming from. Okay, back to the topic of running and phrases/mantras that get you through during even the toughest of times. Or, if you're anything like me, make the really super great runs that much more fun and laughable.

    The first few runs after that nine miler were tough, like omg running sucks, I suck, why do I do this for "fun" tough. And yesterday was leg day...so going into that run I really didn't want to push too hard. At the same time, I knew I wanted to run a minimum of 7 miles, since I had kept the previous runs fairly short. So, off I went with little thought as too how far I would go (for sure) and just how ready my legs were to push the pace. It's also worth noting that this was the final run where I listened to my T-Swift "PRs" playlist jam packed with all of the bad ass music from her latest album. Anyhow, I didn't take long, maybe half a mile in, for me to know that my legs were more than ready to go for a PR. Like, there was no point in even trying to pace myself for the first few miles, because my legs and my brain had other plans. And I was just along for the ride.

    I was going and going and no matter how fast I ran, my legs didn't seem phased by it one bit. And mentally, I never felt like I couldn't keep that pace up for the entire time or like I wanted to quit and take a break lying in the grass somewhere. Even the hills felt more manageable than usual. I apologize that this post isn't super detailed...but things honestly just kind of went by in a blur for the first 3-4 miles. That's how focused/ in the zone I was. I just wanted to drop some major time off my 10K time and prove that yes I still knew how to run fast and no I wouldn't suddenly forget how to do that if I had to take 4 days in a row off from running for an upcoming vacation to an undisclosed location. Anyhow, as I was speeding along for my first trip down main street the phrase, "Catch me if you can" just randomly popped into my head. Out of the blue, no rhyme or reason. I must have been deliriously high from how fast I was running or maybe it was just the my recent T-Swift obsession.

    Either way, from the moment that phrase crossed my mind it was game on for the rest of my run. I didn't care what started hurting or if there were any surprises along the way, that PR would be mine. And before I knew it I was barreling across the railroad tracks and on my way home. That last 1.5 was crazy intense. I was really focused on using my arms and lengthening out my strides...because at that point my legs were finally starting to feel tired from how fast/hard I had pushed them from the very start. The last mile of my 7 mile run yesterday was by far my proudest moment so far of running over break. I hammered out a freaking 8:36 minute mile. Like who does that during the last mile of their long run?! Usually, not me, but here I was doing it and having fun at the same time.

    I ran a 57:15 10K yesterday...smashing my previous PR my more than a minute. And I had a brutal leg day after, so today's run was destined to suck. Like, I went in fully expecting to be running like 9:50 to 10:00 miles. And I was perfectly okay with that after yesterday's performance. And, within a mile or so, I knew I would be driving the struggle bus for the whole damn run. My right calf hurt SO FREAKING BAD, and my left hip didn't feel much better. Today was also the first run since I've been home that I decided to tempt fate by just putting my whole music library on shuffle (which is pretty much equivalent to playing Russian roulette). And I'll tell you, there were soo many times during that my first lap around town that I was ready to throw in the towel. I felt pukey. There was sweat and snot flying everywhere. I almost tripped over my own feet and face planted half way through. I missed my T-Swift jams. The list goes on and on.

    That last stretch between main street and my house was the worst. I was dragging ass and it took every ounce of energy for me to keep my arms moving in time with my legs to resemble something that looked like running. If there were ever perfect conditions for me to fall down and decide that getting up to finish the run wasn't even worth it...today was the day. However, looking back, I should have realized that I couldn't be running that slow..or else my Garmin would have been beeping at me constantly. Anyhow, by the time I pressed stop on my running watch I was completely expecting to see a disappointing pace. Well, I about broke out into a happy dance right there along the darkened road. My average pace this morning was 9:19 for 6.54 miles. WHAT THE WHAT? And every step of those miles felt like running through quick sand. Does this mean I'm actually in the best running shape of my life and could run a full marathon tomorrow? I'll let you random people of the Internet be the judge of that. But, damn, this just goes to show that you should never count yourself out. As long as you continue to put in 100% effort the majority of the time and never stop believing in yourself, anything is possible. Even making 9:19 miles feel like 10:00 miles.

    Tomorrow, will be my last outside run for for awhile. Friday, will be my first treadmill run of break and last run until Wednesday. For four whole days my life won't revolve around working out or tracking everything I eat into MyFitnessPal. Oh, and I may or may not take a break from caffeine. If not a break, then a serious decrease in my dose, since I'll probably only be able to have it when/whereever we eat breakfast at. Good Grief. This vacation is going to be something else. Cross your fingers (and toes) that I still remember what "working out" is when I get back.
   
LAS VEGAS // BETTING ON YOURSELF

LAS VEGAS // BETTING ON YOURSELF

HALF MARATHON TRAINING

HALF MARATHON TRAINING