I never considered myself to be a runner. What running meant to me is a quick way to drop pounds, to clear my head and to get somewhere if I had no other modes of transportation. In college, I was a rower until the sport proved to be too expensive and time consuming taking on a cult status; I needed to find a new addiction. Running seemed to be an easier transition. Easy as in all you had to do was throw on some running shoes, open your door and hit the ground running. Just simply running wasn't enough for me, the sport started to become a healthy obsession. I worked hard at being a follower in the running circuit: bought Runners World, switched running shoes every 6 months, ate gu, wore the fuel belt, spandex became second skin, and raced every other weekend. I played the part of a runner well. I felt like I got some street cred. graduating from a 10k to a half marathon.
Deep down, I'm a "competitive jogger". What that means is my shuffle is a jog-faster than speed walking, but not running full steam ahead. And I only compete with myself because everyone in my running heat is out of my league. Being surrounded by serious runners where the fastest time earned respect, I felt left out and injured myself for trying to catch up. Long runs with my serious running group had me get lost in Jamaica Plain, which led to my GPS (Boyfriend) to dictate directions via cellphone his comfy reclining chair at home to direct me back to my car.
Reflecting on my running craze made me lose focus on why I took it up in the first place, that at the end of a run no matter what distance, I ran for health. Running reminded me of how alive I felt; whether it was elation from completing 10 miles or pain for accomplishing 16 miles. With the Boston Marathon training, it has forced me to re-evaluate everything I do from proper running posture, clothes, and now to suitable fuel for my body. I don't always eat the appropriate foods that my body needs to build muscle and keep me satiated all day.
This Girl Loves to Eat
Anyone that really knows me or my family, knows that we probably descended from a great line of champion eaters. My waif of a sister can put away an ice cream cake, that serves 10 people, in one sitting. My brother could hold his own against any Spikes hot dog champion. Both gross, yet impressive. See that girl in the background, she just witnessed me put away a plateful of bratwurst at the Bohemian Beer Garden in Queens, NY.
After a long day of work/gym, I turn into a cookie monster by raiding my cabinets and refrigerator to nosh on any convenient snack. From wrapper to mouth, I gain instant gratification then feel too full to eat an adequate dinner.
Tempo Runs
Last night, running in the dark on black ice would surely lead me to the hospital, so I jumped on the treadmill for an hour of tempo running. I did the classic tempo: 15-minute warmup, followed by 20 minutes at a slightly challenging pace, then a 15-minute cool down. I am going to try and do this twice a week and track my progress. This is to improve my speed for any race distance. Coach Rick Muhr's mantra is, "Get comfortable feeling uncomfortable" and tempo runs help me push myself out of my comfort zone.
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