Music to my feet

I have my own personal soundtrack.  I don't mean a playlist or an Ipod – my soundtrack is entirely self-contained .   I have been known to share it with the populace through humming and steering wheel drumming  if I am in a particularly good mood.   Saturday morning, I was in a very good mood.  We ran our last distance workout - 4.5 miles.

I have repeated that several times over the last few days, just testing out the general sound of it.  4.5 miles.  4.5 miles.  4.5 Miles.  Can you hear the backbeat, people?   This is Chariots of Fire, Eye of the Tiger and the Theme from Rocky in a glorious twisted mash up.   This is longer than the race that will cap my second NOBO outing on April 9^th.  It is longer than the distance from my house to downtown.  It is longer than I have ever run. 

It was, in fact, longer than many of us Nobo-ers had ever run.  Hands shot up and waved high when Natalie asked who had just bested their personal distance record.  Many of us had both hands up as if we could underline the magnitude of the accomplishment with the fortitude of the arm waving.  Two weeks shy of the race; we had just completed the distance.    

This is not the end of training, not at all.  We will reduce distance as we change up our intervals and work on endurance.  We will tackle Laurel Hill one more time before we meet it during the race.   We will remind each other to stretch and hydrate and stretch some more.   Natalie, ever ready to help, made sure I met someone on Saturday who could give me hydration tips for running in warmer weather.   Critical information if the race is on an 80 degree day instead of Saturday's lovely 50 degrees.

The importance of NOBO and the group that shows up each week really can't be overestimated.  Mary, Diane, Geneva, Felicia, Natalie, Jessica, Hazel and Loretta are just a few of the people who have looked me in the eye and told me that I could do this.   They are just a handful of the folks who have clapped as I walked, hobbled, ran, trudged or even sprinted into the parking lot at the end of a run.   In a nod to the outer music of the inner world, Natalie has been known to park her car and play "running" music as we arrive to warm up for a run.  

The last time I ran a race, my son made me a playlist and handed me his Ipod.  He had carefully crafted the mix to have slower and faster songs so I could lean into the music when my legs wanted me to stop or my heart needed a break.   He hit my favorites in the middle so I could use their energy to boost my own.   He realized, perhaps even more than I did, that distraction is often half the battle for me in running and that music replaces conversation when the run is a race and not my usual social event.

I don't know if I'll use the Ipod this time.  My own soundtrack, championship music all of it set to a 4/5 beat, is pretty loud these days. 

Good news in the end

I woke up late this morning.  This is not an excuse so much as an explanation.

 I woke up late and headed out the door to the run on autopilot.  A small voice in the back of my head reminded me that we had a trail run coming up.  I knew something was supposed to be different this morning, so I figured it was the trail run that was clicking in the background.  Proud of myself for remembering a detail on autopilot, I pulled into the parking lot two minutes after we were supposed to be running.  

I pulled into the parking lot and noticed….that it was empty.  It turns out that the trail run is Wednesday.  After sitting in the car feeling like an idiot for a few minutes, I realized that I had an opportunity in front of me. 

I could go home!  I could go out to breakfast by myself or read the paper.   There was absolutely no way I could make it to NOBO in time to join the group, so I was annoyed with myself but off the hook.   I could soak in the tub for an hour.  I could paint my toenails.  I had an unexpected hour available just for me.  The very possibilities made me giddy.

I went running. 

I smiled at the dog walking crew by the entrance gate, pulled on my Elmos cap and started jogging.   I've been paying attention to my stride and my heart rate lately.  Wednesday's workout was a challenging pleasure because I started at the back of the pack and planned to stay there.   As rising temperatures push my particular system buttons, I'm learning how important it is for me to travel slowly.   This morning, by myself, I was acutely aware of the various body cues I was receiving. 

First, I breathe really loudly.  I apologize to everyone I've ever run behind because it must sound like a truck is hanging on your heels.   I was jogging up a hill on the loop and I swear that I got a nod of recognition from the English bulldog panting his way down the hill in the other direction. 

Second, I am incapable of controlling my own speed.  This might explain the occasionally tense expression that crosses my passenger's faces when I drive on an open highway.  If there is nothing in front of me, I just keeping moving more and more quickly trying to get to whatever destination I'm headed toward.  This is a little foolish when running in a loop since most circles are well, circular.  I can go faster but it just gets me where I already am but much more tired and with sore feet.     There were several points during the run where I ran myself into stadium surround sound level of panting, requiring longer recovery intervals simply because I couldn't seem to move slowly.  

Third, I run better wearing a hat.  Don't ask me why.   It makes no sense, causes me to sweat more and is unnecessary while running on trails in the shady woods.   Maybe it's the Mardi Mask effect; I'm looser if I think I'm less identifiable.  Other people go to Vegas, I put on a hat.

Aside from the body cues, I heard quite a bit from the voices in my head.   I had the requisite chorus of negatives telling me to slow down, stop running and reminding me that I could have been READING.  But this time, I also had a large contingent of cheerleaders in there.  I was running, by choice, alone on a Saturday morning.   There was my favorite mentor, Felicia, who ran with me last week when my leg was cramping because she said, correctly, "If I leave you, you will start walking."  There was Neena, one of the Trail goddesses, who won't let anyone quit.   Natalie was all over that trail with me as was my friend Mary, who ran on Wednesday at the back of the pack with me and made me believe that she liked the slower pace.  

 I thought about having conversations with some of the NOBO crew where we  seem to talk more about what isn't working for us than on what is.  It's true.  We are acutely aware of what isn't going the way we want.  We tend to track that progress toward goal very tightly.  And yet…there we are, week in and week out, accomplishing things. 

I know that this is my last NOBO session for a while.  The increasing heat is causing me some problems with dehydration.  My right leg needs me to spend some time working on those weakened muscles if I'm going to avoid longer term problems.   Still, today was an unexpected gift.  I could see the shape of my running life in between NOBO-ing.  I finished the loop and remembered to stretch, realizing that we are awfully close to the end of this program.   The good news?  No matter what happens on April 9^th, a large part of this race is already run.

Wednesday

By all reasonable accounts, I shouldn't have gone running on Wednesday.  My daughter was sick.  My son was slammed with homework.  My husband is leaving in a few days for a two month trip.  I had a meeting with someone who was only in town for a week.  I shouldn't have gone running.  

Saturday's workout reduced me to tears.  My legs hurt.  My chest was on fire.  We completed the loop only to discover that we had missed a turn and only run 2 of the planned 3 mile route. How do you miss an entire mile?  What had felt manageable last NOBO just felt hard and depressing.  I shouldn't have gone running. 

I tried to run by myself on Monday.  I couldn't even get through a two minute interval without needing to stop and breathe.  I couldn't seem to regulate my speed so that I could sustain the pace at a manageable level.  I shouldn't have gone running.

It was raining and I didn't have a waterproof jacket, or my spy belt or a water bottle.  I definitely shouldn't have gone running.

I went running.

I went running and it felt pretty damn good. 

The first mile was challenging. The second mile was kind of exhilarating.  Mile three was somewhat peaceful.  When I rounded the corner and headed down the last stretch, I was almost dancing.  I felt a little like a drunk karaoke singer – It might have been embarrassing for everyone else but I felt like the real deal. 

I remembered the body adjustment suggested by the Chi running coach and discovered that gravity can actually be a force for good.  I started focusing on my arm motion and discovered that apparently my arms thought that I was trying to fly.  I'd been crossing my arms across my body and then swinging them out looking no doubt like a cross between a bad tae bo instructor and a bird recently evicted from its next.  Once I began swinging my arms in line with my body, I found a little boost to my speed.  Go chi running!

When I started NOBO, I did it for me.  It wasn't about my family or my job.  It wasn't about meeting someone else's expectations.   It became more than running.  It became more than the first race. 

I definitely shouldn't have gone running on Wednesday but I'm really glad that I did.