Pushing through

I woke up today feeling absolutely terrible. I had the chills but my forehead felt hot to the touch. A consultation with the thermometer told me that I really should stay home and try to kick the sickness before it got worse, but at this point I can't take a day off. AP tests are coming, and the season is just starting to pick up aped. Thus, I trucked it through a monotonous but stressful day of school and continued on to track. Surprisingly, I was consistently 15 seconds under pace, and this was sustainable for the full three thousand intervals we did. The four hundreds hurt, as well as the two hundreds, but I attribute that to the ibuprofen sapping the water from my body and making my head pound. All in all, it was a day to simply tough it out, which proved to be achievable. To make up for this discomfort, I had some homemade twix bars. Here's the recipe (courtesy of ME... Yup, it's original!)

 Ingredients
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup brown sugar
1 1/2 sticks butter
2 eggs
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla
2 cups plus 2 tbsp flour
1 can sweetened condensed milk
1/4 cup brown sugar
3-4 tbsp milk
1/2 cup sugar
1 tbsp cocoa powder
1 cup chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Beat sugars and butter. Add eggs one at a time, until mixture is smooth. Beat in soda, salt, and vanilla. Fold in flour. Press dough into ungreased 19x9 inch pan and bake for 12 minutes or until edges are brown. Meannwhile, simmer sweetened condensed milk and brown sugar, bringing just to a boil until sugar dissolves. Continue cooking but do not burn, until mixture thickens, about 5 minutes. Set aside to cool. Microwave milk and sugar one minute until sugar is dissolved. Allow to cool, whisking in cocoa until smooth. Once cooled to a warm but not hot temperature, pour over the chocolate chips, attiring to melt. Pour Carmel mixture over cooled cookie bars and freeze for 10 minutes to set. Then top with the chocolate mixture and let cool to set. Enjoy!

It really is insane

The tv seems riddled with these new infomercials about something called Insanity. With the new fitness craze, I tend to judge each program as a temporary solution to a mid life crisis. This may sound incredibly judgemental, but try marching in place for an hour and listening to a Lulu Lemon-clad woman tell you to feel the burn and you might get a bit cynical too. Why have I even had this experience? During my recovery from a stress fracture I did a couple to get back in the swing of things, but then decided I'd be better off spending my time elsewhere. However, with all the hype I've seen concerning the Insanity workouts, I was curious. I love infomercials, as nerdy as that sounds. They're actually pretty entertaining, especially the Magic Bullet. I came across the Insanity program while flipping through channels and heard a claim that it was the hardest workout a man had completed. He looked pretty fit, six pack abs popping out of a forty-year old stomach. A little grody to see, but it backed up his statements about the workout. My family was discussing the new craze at dinner, and my mom knew a man who'd really succeeded using the program. I was curious purely because I wondered if it really was that hard. My mom started trash talking the whole craze and implying it would be no problem for someone seasoned in pilates and running. Naturally, we decided to try it when we got the chance. I got the opportunity this morning and couldn't pass it up, despite the fact it was a rest day. I excused it as a light effort to loosen up my body post-race and work on some strength to prevent injury. It couldn't be that difficult... Psych. Twenty minutes in I was sweating and had pitied my heart rate through the roof. As I hopped around gritting my teeth and listening to Shaun T growl at me to move faster, I realized that this workout truly is insane. Reconsidering even participating in it, I knew that I should probably stop both to notnupset my track training and to maintain any semblance of dignity, but at that point, it was too late. Completing the dang thing was a pride issue, and I would not be defeated. When the circuits finally came to an end, I was both relieved and oddly proud. I could see how this program would catch on with a group of people really seeking to get fit. And what's more, it was really fun. Yes, I felt goofy flailing around, but it was really entertaining. If I weren't running track, I would definitely try to complete the program just to say that I did. As it is, I think I'm going to incorperate some insanity into my pre-Nordic season training. If you're not in a sport or on a team at the moment, I would definitely suggest giving Insanity a try. You'll be pleasantly surprised at how difficult it is, and love the sense of accomplishment afterwards. And, like running, it really is insane.

Yet another miserable meet inspired many complaints about the track season.  Ideally, I would have woken up, run a nice, relaxing pace through the sheltering foliage of my favorite park, and continued home to steam up my bathroom mirror with a scalding shower. As luck would have it, I got to spend a good five hours in a public gym dreading the inevitably painful two mile.  Icy cold rain battered our team as we cheered on our runners, but our yells were initially compromised as they were carried by the wind.  The first half was in all honesty pretty miserable, and I couldn't help but dread running eight laps in the chilling dampness.  I can admit it, I actually really live the 3200.  It's a better length for me than the mile, merely because I like to keep a strong pace for a longer time rather than feeling the pressure of a shorter race.  Today, however, I was in a really funky state.  For some reason, I have been putting myself under the impression that this was my one and only chance to prove myself in the two mile.  Though we have plenty more meets, I psyched myself into believing I had one chance and one chance only.  In the poor conditions, I was mortified that I wouldn't have the chance I'd hoped for.  On the one hand, I wanted to race in order to have a chance at all.  On the other, what if the conditions ruined my race and I absolutely choked?  With this confusion spinning in my head, girls packing up to leave the meet early because of the weather, and complaints all around, I finally broke down.  I'm embarrassed to say there were even some tears.  What my coach told me, however, is that I need to look in the direction I want to go.  My nordic coach gave me the same advice, albeit on a more literal level.  Universally, though, the self-fulfilling prophesy is all too common-- once we start to believe something, we limit ourselves to our expectations.  I found this very similar to the lesson from The Art of Racing in the Rain: that which you manifest is before you.  If you yourself believe in your own limitations, or expect the worst, chances are you will comply with being limited or accept the worst.  With that, my coach told me to make a choice about my race.  I could either put the confusion and stress behind me and focus on lap after lap, or I could dwell on the elements out of my control and allow my race to follow that mentality down the drain.  As we set out for our warm up, I decided on the former.  I can't tell if it was the switch in my mindset or if the weather truly let up, but as we went out onto the track to race the wind seemed lighter, the rain seemed softer, and the gray skies weren't quite so crushing.  It was crazy how much my experience resembled the philosophy of both my coaches.

It ended up being a PR, which was very satisfying.  to celebrate, I came home and had some delicious brownies a la mode.  Here's the recipe, if anyone's interested! (Courtesy Alton Brown)

Ingredients

• Soft butter, for greasing the pan
• Flour, for dusting the buttered pan
• 4 large eggs
• 1 cup sugar, sifted
• 1 cup brown sugar, sifted
• 8 ounces melted butter
• 11/4 cups cocoa, sifted
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 1/2 cup flour, sifted
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

Directions

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees F. Butter and flour an 8-inch square pan.

In a mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, beat the eggs at medium speed until fluffy and light yellow. Add both sugars. Add remaining ingredients, and mix to combine.

Pour the batter into a greased and floured 8-inch square pan and bake for 45 minutes. Check for doneness with the tried-and-true toothpick method: a toothpick inserted into the center of the pan should come out clean. When it's done, remove to a rack to cool. Resist the temptation to cut into it until it's mostly cool.

Stimulating conversation

The girls on my team never cease to amaze me. Coming out of the doldrums of this week, I finally felt motivated to run these past two days. Typical of my team, they have managed to get me into the spirit again, and not because of intense motivational talks or inspiring quips-- no, they have reinvigorated my drive to participate just through their quirky ways. I've always loved easy runs where I can settle in and listen to the wide range of topics swirling around me. It's so relaxing to listen to someone else's problems as opposed to ruminating on my own. To make it even more fun, the girls never fail to make me laugh. Interestingly, but not surprising, we settled onto the topic of quantum physics today and he theory of the universe, matter, time, and a slough of other abstract but enticingly mind-blowing concepts. I let myself settle into the middle of the pack, soaking up the information the seniors let fall back on my ears. It was actually one of the most stimulating conversations vie been privy to in the last couple months, including school lectures. While I'm not going to summarize each of the complex points made, the point is that having a group, or even just a single running buddy, can make the experience of running invigorating as opposed to draining. On another note, I have begun to try to invigorate myself for saturday's race. In addition to baking and looking up inspirational running quotes, which I'm now receiving daily from runnersworld.com, I made myself a new race day playlist. For your listening pleasure, here are the songs I've selected. 1) Shake It Out (Florence + the Machin>e 2) Winner (not sure of the artist) 3) Call Me Maybe (Carly Rae Jepsen) 4) Jailer (Asa) 5) Payphone (Maroon 5) 6) feel So Close (Calvin Harris) 7) Stronger (Kanye) 8) Better With the Lights Off (New Boyz) 9) Blackout 10) young, Wild, and Free. While these may not be super intense songs, they're songs that put me in a calm but motivated mood to race. On a side note, I never run to music because no matter what it interferes with my pace.

Double the fun

After sleeping off my mediocre race, I feel that my mentality has shifted.  It's happened before: that small switch in outlook that tints the world in new colors, ultimately throwing it both out of whack and into clarity.  Eventually, this novel perception wears off and things revert to a seemingly normal state, but that tiny alteration permanently remodels the way we live our lives.  As I fell asleep last night, I kept thinking about the way I had run my race.  For the most part, my splits were even and I felt comfortably strong.  This would be good in a workout, but it is not the way to run a race.  Complacency leaves no room for victory.  However... I have decided that in a mile race, while I will still run it as a race, I will regard it afterwards as a workout.  This means no guilt, self-deprecation, or wallowing in disappointment.  Traditionally I allow myself 24 hours after a race to feel either elation or depression, but in the midst of my limited time for moping, I had a realization.  Similar to what my coach said to me yesterday, and what my CC coach repeated all year, I must have a short memory.  My big revelation, however, is that I can choose an attitude for myself that shortens my memory and makes it work for my own benefit as opposed to dragging me down.  It sounds complicated, but here is my reasoning.  There are a couple of options for dealing with races. During the race, all bets are off.  However, especially for the mile, I have the ability to go into each race with a mindset of my choice.  I could decide that since it's an open JV race, it really doesn't mean much and I shouldn't try, but that's not who I am.  On the other hand, I am having trouble pushing myself to the brink life I did during CC.  My solution, since the mile is not my event of choice, is to use it in retrospect to shape my two mile.  This means examining how I felt during the race, the pace I was running, and committing it to memory.  Then I can assess if I could repeat that race for the second mile of a two mile.  Running a slightly faster mile will ultimately be helpful in my two mile.  Thus, while these miles are important, I can see them as training, while puts me in a better mental state concerning my season as a whole.  As my coach told me, I can't get fed up with training because I'm not seeing results.  This choice in how I regard my mile races will ultimately take the pressure I put on myself away from destructive self-criticism and put it towards achieving goals in the race I love.  To celebrate this, I made myself some cookies.  Here's the recipe, you really should try them.  They're great for celebrating a new outlook, but a new perspective isn't necessary to enjoy them!

Chocolate Brownie Cookies (Courtesy Allrecipes.com)

Ingredients

• 2/3 cup shortening
• 1 1/2 cups packed brown sugar
• 1 tablespoon water
• 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
• 2 eggs
• 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/3 cup baking cocoa
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon baking soda
• 2 cups semisweet chocolate chips
• 1/2 cup chopped walnuts or pecans

Directions

1. In a large mixing bowl, cream shortening, sugar, water and vanilla. Beat in eggs. Combine flour, cocoa, salt and baking soda; gradually add to creamed mixture and beat just until blended. Stir in chocolate chips and nuts if desired. Drop by rounded teaspoonfuls 2 in. apart on ungreased baking sheets. Bake at 375 degrees F for 7-9 minutes; do not overbake. Cool 2 minutes before removing to wire racks.

A little bit longer

To say I'm disappointed in my race just scratches the surface. I've been in the doldrums now for a number of days, stressing about AP tests, plateauing races, and just general inadequacy. I know this is silly, since theree is no way I can excel at so many different things withoutnfinally bursting my seams, but no matter how hard I try I can't seem to take these high expectations off of my own shoulders. I'm a perfectionist, so when I do mediocre to poor work in any area it's a real struggle. And lately, there has been a bit too much mediocrity. There seems to be a mental barrier whenever I run the mile. I. Cant quite grasp the idea of running as fast as possible for four laps. Really, I should be able to cut off at least 10 seconds from my mile time, but I can't seem to break the mental fear of pain. There are shackles around my mind that command my legs to cool off, save themselves for the sixth and seventh laps that never come. In all, it's been a huge frustration. Sensing my anxiety, my coach talked to me for a while about my race and season after I cooled down. I felt jittery, like I just wanted to run away during the whole conversation. It wasn't because I wa scared, or bored, or even just preoccupied. No, I rralized that the complex emotions running throughnme in the wake of the adrenaline were all tingednwith embarrassment. I so desperately want to be good, and flopping under my own dreams is really a test of self confidence. I think my coach realized this; her main message was to continue training like I have been and be patient enough to see results. She stressed the importance of staying mentally tough, and the fact that it would make me a better runner in the long run. Though these are the kind of typical words any teacher or coach or even a parent may say, she really had a point. Running is a completely mental sport. While propelling each foot forward in the heat of the moment plays a big part, it's also important to remember that mindset outsid eof races is important. Yes, you may plateau. Yes, some races will just not go your way. And yes, some days you will be sore, stiff, tired, bored, discouraged, self-deprecating... But the true athlete will conquer these negative thoughts not only in the intensity of the race but daily. It's easy to stay motivated hen you feel on top of the world. It's more difficult, butnalso more rewarding, to stay strong in the long months of a plateau.

A couple of favorites

Due the insane amount of work I have to do before tomorrow, I decided to simply round up a couple of my favorite training related sites! Here's a quick overview. Mapmyrun.com- this site provides a tool to find the mileage of your run. Just click the map to create your route and the site will tell you how far you've run. While it may not be precise to the extent of a gps watch, it is a great free alternative. Runnersworld.com- this online counterpart the magazine has great archives on just about anything running related. It's one downfall is that it's geared more towards road racing adults. Webmd.com- yes, I frequent this site. It has great info on staying healthy, which is integral to running well. I use the symptom checker if I have a nagging pain, check out the benefits of supplements, and look up any other health concerns. Flotrack.com- geared towards the high intensity, very competitive running community and it's fans. It's inspiring and interesting to see the results and stories of high profile runners. Bonus: it also allows you to track your mikes, speeds, and workouts! beantownbaker.com, smittenkitchen.com, foodnetwork.com, and bakingbites.com- of course, running necessitates tasty food. Poke around these sites food inspiration tom cook something amazing to fuel your next run! That's all vie got for tonight! Happy running, and surfing!

Mothers' day, a little early

I wasn't supposed to run this morning, but when I got up and saw the partially clear skies and my mother sitting at our kitchen table clad in running shorts I didn't really have a choice. I love running with my mom, especially on what she calls "old lady runs." While these are by no means slogs, they are not my usual pace. Which I really enjoy. My mom was the person that first got me into running. When I signed up for middle school track in eighth grade, she took me on my first 20-minute run in Phoenix, AZ during our spring break. In the dry heat she pulled me along, probably not even 2 miles, in the hopes of preparing me. From that day, our next big milestone together was when she asked me to run her usual six-mile lake loop with her. I will admit to anxiety dreams about being left behind the night prior to this momentous occasion. Gradually, it became our ritual to run together when I didn't have practice. Running with my mom gives me an hour out of my day to really connect with her. Since we've had this opportunity to talk and just be together for a small bit of our busy lives, I feel that she's become more than just a caretaker, provider, and protector; she is now a mentor, therapist, and my best friend. Usually we fall into step with excessive chatter and by the end of the run I feel caught up on her life and content she's up to speed with mine, but today we ran predominantly in silence. All I could hear were her light footfalls and measured breathing, which was actually really comforting. I remember a run we did in Costa Rica during a family vacation: every morning we got up just before sunrise to escape some of the oppressive heat and humidity, however I inevitably dripped in sweat by the second minute. The dirt road was riddled with pools of soft mud and water-filled potholes, making the trek both treacherous and necessarily engaging, shutting down most chatter. We ran next to oversized, prehistoric-looking foliage with only the sound of dripping water and waking birds around us. As I weaved in and out of the obstacle course a chorus of barks shattered our silence. It literally sounded like a pack of wolves was fighting to the death less than 800 meters from where we were standing. To this day we laugh about how I instinctively positional myself behind my mom, ready to literally jump into her arms. Yes, I regret my intrinsic selfishness and willingness to sacrifice one of the people I love most in this world, but I have to honestly admit that it was my automatic response to the perception of danger. After the initial shock and fear we realized the sound was merely the morning wakeup call of the howler monkeys. To this day, though, I remember the way the peace was broken on that run, and the atmosphere this morning flashed me back. It says something about the relationship we have, though. It is she that I depend on when something goes wrong. I feel more secure with her running next to me, as cheesy as that may sound. It's funny to look at the difference running together has made in our relationship. Though she now encourages me to speed up for the last two miles of our runs together, leaving her behind, we still have a common ground on which we can connect. Running with my mom, even just once or twice a week, allows us to talk, listen, and learn about what's important to each other. She'll give me an honest opinion that I can count on to be in my best interest. I attribute a lot of the closeness I have with my mom with our ability to run together. Some women pass on jewelry, recipes, or traditions to their daughters. Mine has given me her time and imparted me with a passion that I value as much as any inheritance.

I rock at climbing!

Sorry for the cheesy title, but I couldn't resist. I'm branching out to a similar but novel subject because, while an eight mile run is enjoyable, it's not exactly exciting. My morning thus far has consisted of a nice, long, easy run, which really wasn't very interesting. I found it very relaxing, though, to run through the budding trees and past the now-thawed ponds on my regular route. The air is still crisp when I walk out the door but it no longer nips at my face while I'm running. It also isn't too humid yet. The water in the atmosphere is not yet dense enough to stick to my skin and mingle with sweat, so I can run without having the sticky mixture coat my body in an unattractive sheen. It's no longer too cold and not yet too hot; perfect weather for running. But, while the weather may be conducive to my sport of choice, I recently experienced another activity that has me intrigued. Last night I went indoor rock climbing! While I've been before, this was much more fun, intense, and engaging than the previous times. I also realized for the first time that rock climbing is an amazing form of cross training! It may not work exactly the same muscles as running, but it engages just about every muscle on your body, down to your fingers. I didn't even know I had muscles there... In addition it actually elevated my heart rate. Upon reaching the top in one of my many rainbow routes (the easiest way to the top, using all the handholds instead of limiting yourself to one color) I found that my pulse was over 150 beats per minute. This means that I'm reaching target heart rate-- climbing is a legitimate workout! Strength training, a cardio element, and good deal of stretching and problem solving. Even more importantly, though, it was the most fun Friday night I've had in a long time! I went with an experienced friend. She used to be on a team, is incredibly strong and nimble, and was really into the whole activity. We started out on some very easy walls (for her, I should clarify) and then she encouraged me to try a color coded path. As I mentioned before, a specific color of tape marks each hold, and if you limit yourself to one it gets much more difficult. I accepted the challenge, though, preparerd to get stuck halfway up and have to repel, defeated, to the floor. As I started to climb, however, my competitive drive took over. My fingers and triceps were already fatigued, the handholds seemed far to small to gain any purchase, and my breathing was heavy, but with every movement I made up the wall I grew more determined to conquer the synthetic rock. I could feel bruises blooming on my knees from my increasingly scrappy tactics. I came to the point, about five feet below the top, where I could find no foothold or handhold to make the final stretch passable save for one distant knob that my left hand could barely reach. In the heat of the moment, it was an immediate decision. If I held on to my current position much longer my muscles would give out and I'd be forced to come down defeated, but the hold seemed just out of reach. I decided it was do or die... So I jumped for it. In my mind, I was like spiderman. I gracefully leaped for this elusive object, grabbed hold, and swung my body powerfully up to the top. In reality, I'm pretty sure I looked like an absolute spazz. Yes, I got my hand on the hold, but proceeded to smack my knees into the uneven wall to reach another nonexistent foothold. From there I did a sad rendition of a pull up, complete with feet frantically kicking to take some of the weight off my biceps, and thrust my hand out to touch the top before falling back into my harness. It may not have been pretty, but the point was that I did it. There is something so fulfilling about reaching the top, and knowing that I mastered my body reminded me of the powerful mentality I have during a good interval workout. The outlook I had on climbing, as well as the physical aspect, was akin to racing. I would suggest, if you've never rock climbed before, that you try it out. It was a super fun activity as well as a great way to get some physical activity other than running. Come to think of it, it would be an amazing way to train for Nordic... Either way, my experience with it hopefully made me physically stronger and definitely challenged both my physical and mental capacity.

Competition driving us all

It was interesting to see the competitive spirit of the distance squad emerge today. Friday fun day in no way limited our drive to win. In fact, the dodgeball game and relay races seemed to heighten our prideful streak. A non-competitor in any coordination rlated sport, I stood in the outfield kicking grass and hoping to avoid the ball while simultaneously watching other d-squaders throwing up their hands when we made an error. Occasionally I would throw out the expected trash talk or yell at the ref (the rather biased mid distance coach...) but otherwise was content to contemplate the competitive drive so present in distance runners. As I said before, we are a different breed, and that fact is evident whenever we step up to compete. Despite the surprising intensity of Friday fun day, it really was an enjoyable practice. My relay team was goofy but in all ways superior to the others: our somersaulting, leapfrogging, and wheelbarrow racing brought us to victory multiple times (if you don't catch the vein of sarcasm, it should be noted that the Up Dawg team didn't actually win). However, two hours of laughter and casual competition was exactly what the doctor ordered after my disappointment of a race, and the girls on my team put me in a great mood for the weekend. We gave all grown so much closer within just the first few weeks of practice. These girls continue to make my day, and can even put a positive spin on Friday running. With that, I will conclude this short Friday post. Have a great weekend, and remember, make good choices!

In the presence of greatness

Race day did not go at all as planned. Upon waking up I felt a tension all over that I knew was not a good omen. There's a productive level of anxiety, and then there's the nervousness that incapacitated. My nerves were through the roof; I even had racing dreams last night. The reason for this rampant do stress? I was going to run the 1600. Though four laps is far less daunting than eight, I always get much more distressed over fast, short races than long, endurance ones. Cross country is far less intimidating for me than track merely because in a 4k I can settle into my pace for a while. Either way, the adrenaline coursing through me caused random anxiety attacks the entire day. My heart rate would soar and my breathing would increase despite the fact that I was seated, in class, learning about something completely independent of running. This stress did nothing to help me come the firing of the gun, however. I hung back, afraid to push. It too hard and die on the third lap. In addition, the open 1600 was a mass of rhythmic bodies all stepping to their own beat, thus getting a position in the first 400 was nigh on impossible. All in all, this imperfect buildup and start coupled with my own poor racing mindset gave me much less than the pr I was hoping for. I did, however, get to experience one of the most impressive mile races, albeit in the form of another, much faster girl. I was able to live vicariously through her 5:04 1600, during which she looked effortlessly lithe and powerful. Even just stepping up to the line it was evident that she had complete confidence in her superiority. Having won the state CC meet three years and counting, she has something to brag about, but this was the first up close insight I'd had into her completely cool mindset. She took off from the line and the pack seemed hesitant to follow, though three brave souls ventured out behind her in a halfhearted attempt to keep up. Within 300 meters she had completely broken away and proceeded to widen the gap with each downfall of her carefully outstretched leg. I don't mean to sound worshipful, but there's an awe I feel whenever I witness greatness, and this girl inspired that admiration as much as anyone I've ever seen. She finished at least half a lap in front of any competition, completing her stupefying performance with a powerful kick. What is it that makes this girl so much faster than the rest of us? I believe genetics play a nigh role, as well Asa training, but I also think she has the pure mindset of a competitor. I've seen it in some girls on my team, but never as much as this small blond speed demon. She had the will to win and her complete confidence intimidated her competition to the point that they no longer even posed a threat. It's amazing, almost funny, to witness that level of intensity. I just kept thinking to myself, this girl is incredible. She is everything I imagine a winner to be, and she knows she can outperform anyone if she really wants to. That is the character of a champion. It was amazing to see that mentality in action.

In the face of adversity

I thought my workout was bad. Not a fan of anything under an 800, I was dismayed to learn that we were running 400s today. Eight 400s at mile race pace intimidated me merely because I almost always fall behind. While I can hang with faster groups for endurance work, my longer legs work against me in anything speed related. As vie said before, I simply don't know how to move my body that way. At one point during a rest period, ER even joked about my seemingly slow motion stride. I've even had a hurdler friend tell me it's entertaining to watch me "try to run fast.". That's about as insulting as you can get, but I don't hold it against him because it is so unquestionably true. So, to me, this workout was one of the worse options. After practice, however, we heard a story that stomped out any remnants of self-pity. Because she is in town this weekend, a paraolympic athlete asked to train on our track. In addition to training in close proximity, she asked to speak to our track team. A motivational speaker as well as an athlete, she had a very intriguing message. After a boating accident in her youth, her foot was amputated. Years later, she is training as a track runner and bound for London this summer. Her entire outlook was persevering and she showed no semblance of self-pity. Looking at her from the knees up as I waled into the gym, I would have had no idea she had a disability. Hearing her times (about 13 seconds in a 100 and 28 seconds in a 200) completely floored me. This woman was by no means compromised by adversity. It made me reconsider my attitude towards challenges. In comparison to my workout attitude today, her overall perspective was to look at training as an opportunity. It's easy for me to embrace this same productive mindet when I'm running "my type" of workouts (endurance oriented), but it's much more difficult to stay mentally engaged when I'm feeling inadequate in speed workouts. She, however, seemed to see the opportunity of merely being able to work out, and therefore had the drive to train at the intensity of an olympic athlete thirty hours a week. Furthermore, it reminded me what a blessing it is to have an intact body. While she was amazingly successful even in spite of her challenges, I also began contemplating how lucky I am to have my own body completely functional. Though I may joke about wanting to skip a workout or not run a race, the truth is that I love the sport. If it were ever taken away from me I would be crushed. If something were to happen to inhibit my running, I can only hope I'd be as dedicated and strong as she was and continues to be. Having her speak to us after struggling to push myself today was the perfect mental wakeup call. It's important to remember what a privilege it is to compete.

A bit of nostalgia

I've always loved a good rain.  I love the way the sky shakes and drops fall systematically onto the roof, creating a comforting beat that reminds me I'm inside and warm.  I woke up this morning in a darkness indicative of cloudy skies.  I didn't even lift my blinds before resetting my alarm 30 minutes later and withdrawing again into the thick, hazy world of sleep.  The skies were still gray when I finally reemerged and I was pleased I'd compromised my walk to school in favor of an extra bit of rest.  Still, without my usual morning walk to pick me up I felt bleary.  This carried on into the afternoon, at which point I began dreading a hard workout.

There are some days where my body just doesn't feel fast.  I would blame it on lactic acid but I know in reality that has little to do with it.  The truth is, some days I just want to lay in my bed with a good book in stead of pushing myself to achieve greatness.  Thankfully my coach eased up on us for a day with a 40 minute run topped off with some quick speed work.

As we plodded down the path around a nearby lake I felt the familiar pangs of nostalgia.  I occasionally get this feeling-- unidentifiable yearning for the way things were.  I rarely know what it is I'm missing, only that I want the simple contentment I remember from my younger years.  It may sound a bit like a mid-life crisis, but it's easily curable.  Whenever I feel this abstract desire I know I need to bake.

So, finally, here is a recipe post!  I don't know if anyone else ever experiences brief nostalgia, but this banana bread recipe is perfect to satisfy it.

Moist Banana Bread (Courtesy Grandma Schad)
1 c sugar
2 large eggs
3 ripe bananas, mashed
1 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 package vanilla or banana instant pudding mix
3 tbsp milk
1/2 c vegetable oil
1 1/4 c flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 c chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Grease two medium loaf pans.  Beat first eight ingredients until combined. Fold in flour, soda and powder.  Fold in chocolate chips and pour batter into prepared pans.  Bake for 35 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center of loaf comes out clean.

In the moment

Yesterday morning I had planned to run with sme of my teammates. We were assigned an easy 50 minute run, a nice cap to a hard week. I woke up at 6:30, as always, and stumbled downstairs to watch TV until our 10:00 rendezvous. There was a lot on my mind as I mindlessly watched the Magic Bullet infomercial, putting off thinking about some of the things that had been weighing on me. At 9:15 I got a call canceling our run because of conflicts, and suddenly I had absolutely no structure. Structure is how I run, how I train. I decide what I'm going to do hours if not days in advance. I have specific routes that I could run with my eyes closed and exact miles and times that I'm used to running, but in that instant I had absolutely no plan. It was... liberating. I quickly put on my typical running clothes, complete with my favorite cut muscle tee, and proceeded to stand in my kitchen with a vacant expression, attempting to decide where to run. Sunlight poured in from outside, bouncing off the red walls and warming everything it touched. I felt so tranquil in that moment, undecided about my run but enjoying just the feeling of the light. Then it dawned on me: Why shouldn't I hold on to this feeling and just run? I didn't need a destination, I could just decide as I went, follow my curiosity, embrace the freedom running gives me. With that, I was out the door and pounding the pavement. One foot followed the other as I ran down street after street, taking turns I'd never taken before, plodding through park and past beautiful houses. I'd decide on a direction and destination, reach it, and move on to the next. It was a playful run, not confined by speed or time or distance, only dictated by my own whims and willingness to keep going. Fifty minutes came and went and I was still running. There was no way I'd even be home in sixty; I was very far from home. Embracing this predicament I just kept running in the general direction of my house but continued to take whichever turns suited my fancy. I wasn't thinking about anything. This run was meant to clear my head, not confuse it. Upon reaching my driveway I had clarity and it felt like I'd left worry on the side of the road four miles back. I mapped my run and found I'd gone much farther and faster than I'd planned. 9 miles in less than 75 minutes was a respectable run for not having been planned. This was so atypical of me. My type A ways usually shut down relaxed disorganization, but I think it's important to remmember that we need to let ourselves go every now and then. Break the rules and expectations we've placed on ourselves and just enjoy the moment. This run did that for me. It reminded me that not every day has to be focused on performance-- sometimes it's best just to run for the sake of running and do what feels good in the moment.

Getting left behind

There must be a time in a parent's life when they ralize that however hard they try to hold on, their child will ultimately move on without them. This bittersweet moment of parting pulls at their heart but also assures them that there is something greater in stored. Though they may not be able to experience it with their child, the great opportunities of the world still exist like a ripe piece of fruit waiting to be harvested. I have never been a parent and don't plan on becoming one anytime soon, but I realized yesterday how maternal I feel about my team. This comes out in many ways, including when I borrow out clothes daily to those who have forgotten a sports bra, t- shirt, socks... I'm also a good three inches taller than almost all of my teammates, which only reinforces this connection. As a member of my team I'm invested in it's success. Before a race i try to encourage my team, stay in a good mindset, and support the other girls-- especially when I'm not racing with them. Seeing one of my teammates succeed elated me as well, and we all take part in celebration of a PR. Likewise, comforting eachother after a poor performance is another responsibility. Yesterday, part of the team went to the U of M track meet to compete. It was a limited entry meet and we only had three spots in the 3200, so I wasn't able to go. This was a very weird experience for me-- though I've been unable to race in selective meets before, this was the first one to truly make me question myself. I likened it to the way a parent would suffer from an empty nest. Both happy for my teammates and frustrated at being left behind, I had to reconsider both myself and my attitude. Initially I had not wanted to have to race this week, but upon learning that I was not among those going to the U I had a change of heart: I desperately wanted to be fast enough to deserve to go. I knew that based on times it was predictable and necessary, but that didn't alleviate the pang of inadequacy. It's slightly demoralizing to be assigned an easy run and some 200s for practice while the faster girls get to go compete. After this paltry workout, however, my dinner was interrupted by a call from McKenzie. From the meet she and a couple of other girls yelled into the phone at me. Though I couldn't hear much of the conversation, their wishes that I were there and even a request for a pep talk made me reconsider the position I was in. Though I wasn't racing, it didn't mean I wasn't part of the team. With this realization I was able to put aside my mixed feelings of rejection, jealousy, and inadequacy and embrace the role my team wanted me to play. Like a mother sending her kids off I had to be supportive, encouraging, and focused on the other girls. Even after their races it was important to chose to be supportive as opposed to jealous. It was a humbling experience that deflated my engorged ego as well as inspired me to stay committed to training in the hopes of earning a spot next time. It reminded me that though I'm not there yet, there is something more in store. And until I reach that goal, I will always have the ability to support my team.

Getting all buddy-buddy

They say misery loves company. For runners, this is especially true. It turns out that many people rely on running buddies, but not just for motivation! A running buddy can act as a friend, coach, cheerleader, or just a partner in misery. Running alongside a teammate, I listen to their breathing, the pounding of their feet, the rustle of their clothes. It's oddly comforting to know that I'm not the only one out there; there is someone else that is pushing themselves just as hard with the same goal. We are all working for the elation of a personal record, the thrill of crossing the finish line and knowing that we left it all on the track. This common goal unties polar opposites in a fusion of sweaty bodies. We all seem to meld together into one pulsing mass of swift feet and pumping arms-- each individual gives a part of themselves when running with another in order to achieve the strength of the group. With this sacrifice comes a responsibility. As a teammate and member of a pack, I know I hold a tiny piece of my fellow runners with me. Just as I have given myself to the group, so have they, and I am responsible to them as long as we run together. In my experiences, running with a group improves my attitude, execution, confidence, and contentment. When embarking on a run or workout with the team I can rely on their presence to hold me accountable to completing it. Though I would finish a run regardless of company, knowing I am being observed encourages me to put in the extra ounce of effort to make each day strong. I even enjoy many of the runs because of our crazy antics and interesting conversations. More importantly (for my training, at least) is the fact that my pack executes a pace much better than I would on my own. During out endurance workout yesterday my group maintained a great pace throughout the tempo portion of the run. I relaxed and let Bridgit lead me for the middle mile, measuring my steps and breathing to hers. With McKenzie next to us, our three sum held eachother accountable with periodic gasps of support. Finally, completing a workout with a pack reinforces my self confidence; knowing I can keep pace with my teammates in workouts gives me confidence to try to stick with them in races. It also pleases me to know that I put as much effort into it as they did. There are so many benefits to pack running that I could never express. Truly, one must run in a pack to see the effect the group can have on an individual runner. It's an incredible experience. More than merely making running enjoyable, buddies can be an integral part in success.

If I were a boy...

I think I could understand How it feels to love a girl.... Just kidding, but I am actually wondering about what life would be like as a boy. I'm not talking about wearing cargo shorts, roughhousing with friends, or even experiencing locker room shenanigans-- even as a girl I have experienced all that. No, what I'm curious about is how being a boy would affect my speed. We ran on the track this afternoon. Every time we have a track workout the boys team seems to be right there, up close and personal, watching and critiquing us as we run lap after lap. Running on the hot track my hair is always a mess, I'm covered by a sheen of perspiration, and I tend to grimace during intervals. This was no exception. Today's workout consisted of a continuous procession of a 1200 (decreasing in pace), then a tempo run for about 1.25 miles, held at the pace of the last portion of the 1200, then another 1200, which got progressively faster. It's an endurance session that I personally love, but it wreaks havoc on my already less than glamorous appearance. To make matters worse, part of the boys team was sharing the track with us, though thankfully not the distance team. After our workout, Molly commented on how we hate when the boys watch us work out but they enjoy it when we see them. For Molly, this isn't a big issue-- she's a 5:11 miler who can run as fast as many of the boys. But for many of us, as my other friend Halle pointed out, working out in front of physically superior boys is just humiliating. Though some of the anxiety stems from appearance, much of it, for me personally, revolves around feeling slow in comparison. The slower boys can still run as fast as I can. This makes me feel inadequate no matter how I try to spin it. The frustrating part is that I am at a natural disadvantage when comparing myself to boys; all girls are. We are composed of more fat than boys, have less testosterone, and, to put it bluntly, we have child bearing hips. I try to remember this when I start to measure myself against boys, but it isn't always easy. To give you an idea of the true difference between boys' and girls' natural ability, I found a conversion factor. Supposedly boys are 12% faster than girls of comparable ability. Thus, to figure out a comparable boys time for a given girls time, divide by 1.12. This is not completely accurate, but it is interesting. It helps give a little perspective when finishing the sentence, "if I were a boy...". In addition, I would like to comment that I believe in a girl's ability as much as a boy's. We are mentally strong and amazingly dedicated, and the girls on my teams have proven that time and time again. So while it is an interesting question, my personal opinion is that I'm proud and content to be a girl, whatever the disadvantages.

Stop playing with your balls!

In the midst of our recovery run, my friend and teammate Bridgit turned to men and quipped, "Other sports just play with balls; running takes balls." None but a runner can understand how true this is. Notnonly arenthe workouts literally a pain, but recovery days aren't a walk in the park, either. I woke up today with sore inner thighs, knowing that I would have to run through any discomfort. The chorus of complaints about aching body parts picked up when I got to the locker room: everything from tight hamstrings to tired calves and even cramping biceps. Yes, all of these pains nag a runner day in and day out, especially in the height of training. Muscle soreness stems from muscles adapting to stress. It used to be believed that lactic acid buildup caused soreness, but in reality this has little to do with the actual process that creates soreness. When they are worked beyond their normal load, muscles break and rebuild themselves stronger than before. The process is actually on a very small scale within sarcomeres, or tiny units of muscle, multiplied thousands of times throughout the muscle. This usually takes at least eight hours to occur, thus morning-after soreness is common. I've even read that muscles reach their most tender stage two days after a workout, so it's better to take two hard days and then two easy days to maximize benefits. I haven't tried this, so I'm skeptical, but at some time I'll try being the guinea pig and report on how it goes. Though sore muscles go with running like peanut butter with jelly, there are a couple ways to recuperate. I take ice baths frequently, which seem to help. They also do a lot to prevent injuries. Compression also helps. If you don't have compression sleeves, wearing snug knee highs to bed os an alternative! Pure rest also helps, obviously, but it's often not a viable option when training. Foam rollers feel very good, even painfully good, on tired and tight muscles as well. Muscle recovery is natural, however, so don't fret about a bit of pain. Personally, I love the feeling because it reminds me that I pushed myself. And remember, contrary to popular belief, running takes more balls than any other sport... So don't let a little soreness stop you!

Follow your heart

This day was full of illusion. The watery sunlight that filtered through the school windows lulled me into expecting a warm, easy run. Though in the back of my head I knew we'd go hard, a workout seemed intangible on such a picturesque day. But with shapely white clouds dotting the baby blue sky the true temperature was a real disappointment. As I stepped outside I was dismayed to feel a nipping breeze reminiscent of the late days of October, not the usual misty warmth of April. Already surprised by the weather, I was also subject to a surprising workout. Full of anything from 1200s to 200s, it wasn't just the random combination of distances and speeds that threw me off. No, I was also confused by my own pacing. Usually I can more or less hit a pace just by feel, but today everything seemed either slower, faster, or both. The hardest intervals felt too neutral while the more relaxed intervals pushed the pace too far. I would like to blame the whipping wind that hit with a menace every time I rounded the first curve. I could even blame my teammates for poor pacing since for the most part we ran in packs. However, I don't believe either of these was really the case; I think the combination of conditions and lack of pace practice thus far combined to compromise my ability to just speed. Naturally, this got me thinking about a dependable gauge for effort, no matter the day. Though splits can be helpful they aren't very flexible, and though running by pure feel is, it leaves too much room for interpretation. This is why I personally like using heart rate as a gauge in situations that require a bit of flexibility. You've probably heard of VO2 max, lactate threshold, and other terminology for different heart rate zones, but truly knowing what they mean and how they're used can help you tailor workouts to your specific speed. Here's a website I found detailing the importance of training at each level... http://www.3-fitness.com/tarticles/zones.htm While this is by no means a complete analysis of heart rates, it does provide the basic framework for heart rate based training. As well as helping to dictate training, testing your resting heart rate after waking each morning can alert you to problems in your body. If it's especially high it could signal oncoming sickness or overtraining. My advice is to begin to pay attention to your heart rate in any situation. It's not necessary to micromanage it, but keeping an eye out for irregularities, as well as using it to adapt workouts, can give an unbiased appraisal of your conditions. Runners are generally dependent on numbers. Add heart rate to your repertoire to add another dimension to your training!

Raining on my parade

It's drizzling out. It's the damp kind of weather that seeps into your bones and envelops you in a cocoon of wet, cold air. No matter how many layers you wear the moisture curls through them right down to your skin, so the best bet is to camp out inside with a mug of cocoa and a good book. But there's that pesky little nudge from the inside to get out and run. I woke up this morning and felt like rolling over and closing my eyes again. When I realized I didn't have to get up and run immediately before going to nannying (my spring break job), I was absolutely elated. And with all this relief came a new pang of exhaustion, so I gave in and closed my eyes for another hour. Big mistake, because while I was sleeping the clouds rolled in. A cold drizzle is even more detrimental to my motivation than being tired. I can shake off sleep pretty quickly but I really hate to be cold. And that's exactly what I was in for this morning. I had planned to run with a teammate today; we had a long run scheduled and we love to use our runs to talk and catch up. However, when I lifted my shades to get a temperature gauge I was dismayed to see the skies and wet cement. In my years of running I've learned that this weather translates into wet and cold runs... I wasn't looking forward to it. We drove down to the chain of lakes and got out to run. The wind and water poked at us as we set off and i braced myself for a thoroughly unenjoyable run. As we got in our groove, though, the weather started to slip my mind, my arms relaxed, and I felt my grimace morph into a smile. We chatted about our breaks, school, our families, clothes. I forgot I was outside and running until we rounded the final corner into a wall of wind. Honestly, at that point I just wanted to throw the towel in and retreat into my bed. What would it hurt to stop and walk or even hitchhike back to the car? My thighs were numb and I forgot the bit of enjoyment I'd experienced. But with a teammate running beside me I couldn't very well cop out, so I gritted my teeth and keep moving. When we finally got to the car I piled in, grateful for the refuge from the wind. Looking back on it, though, it really wasn't that bad. And extra ten minutes of minor discomfort in exchange for the satisfaction of finishing a run. Had I not had company I may have settled with an unfinished run. It showed me how much a running buddy can keep me motivated. Though most days I run because I want to, there are the occasional runs that are strictly completed out of necessity. Obedience, raw and unattractive, is necessary in order to truly stick to a training plan. Sometimes you have to do things that you don't want to, so you quit complaining and just do it. Loving the sport is part of it, and a big part, but to complete your training you must learn to give your best on every day, not just the good ones. This is the true meaning of dedication. Too often we forget it, and I'm glad that today I was reminded.

Get the gear

A major component of many sports is equipment. Those who have are set apart from those who have not by their ability to perform. While it isn't the main factor in achieving greatness, it does play a role. Running, however, is accessible to anyone with shoes and willpower. During my run today I contemplated the importance of good shoes when running. Are they truly influential, or do we merely use them because they feel good and look cool? They certainly feel much better than walking around barefoot, but the natural running craze sweeping the nation challenges the necessity of shoes whatsoever. I, personally, don't buy into the hype, but it is an interesting perspective. So, in the middle of my difficult but boring tempo run, I set out to answer for myself they answer to a couple of questions. First, why do I even wear shoes? This may seem like a no-brained; sticks, glass, rocks, even just the discomfort of pavement slapping against my skin prompts me to want some sort of barrier. Interestingly, not everyone feels the same-- I saw a man running completely barefoot around a lake the other day-- but for the sake of sanity, we're going to say that some sort of sole is necessary. The answer I found was that shoes keep my body working in the right way. They cushion landings, support my bones, ligaments, and tendons,and encourage the right form. I think (and this is an unprofessional musing) that wearing shoes lets my feet and legs relax a bit and leave some of the physics to shoe technology. The second conundrum is how will wearing a different shoe affect me? Can a shoe really make me go faster? I've run in a couple different shoes now and have fun ally found my fit. While I don't think a particular shoe will automatically make me faster, I do think each affect how I run and thus affect my overall performance. A cushioning shoe keeps the pounding from wearing me down too far, allowing me to keep training strong. A different amount of support can change my stride and strike zone. These all ultimately affect my speed, albeit in an indirect way. The most direct influence my shoes have, however, is mental. Certain shoes make me feel fast, especially new shoes. I lace up a pair of pristine white beauties and feel the unbroken fabric around my feet and instantly am ready to push the pace. The same goes for racing spikes; the second they're snug around my toes I'm resdy for the gun to go off. I don't think I'm alone when I say that some shoes can just feel fast. Therefore, they usually make me run fast. The ultimate question, one that I still don't have an answer to, is how much of a role shoes play in determining performance. I'll continue to mull this over... During my first race with my new spikes! Yes, all this thought about shoes gave me the itch for new ones. I went out and bought some new Nike distance spikes for this track season. They're really fast-looking, so hopefully they'll make me feel speedy. If you're thinking about buying new shoes, here are a couple of my favorites. - the Asics cumulus, which is now the nimbus, is what vie found to be my personal favorite. Enough cushioning, but not too much to slow me down. This shoe cured my string of injuries, plus it now comes in a cool purple and gray-- it doesn't show dirt! - the Saucony ride treated me well. It felt fast, but I needed a bit more cushioning. If you don't, I would suggest this shoe. - any type of Newtons! They're comfy, promote good striking, and look hot. Happy shopping!

To hill with it

Hills are one of the more contentious training aspects vie come across. Should I run steep hills, long hills, should I run hills at all..? The different coaches I have run for each have a different philosophy. With my first cross country coach we ran hills weekly. Long, steep, thigh burning hills. The problem was that one these intervals it was difficult to maintain speed and power, which is ultimately the goal of hill work. Thus, the second approach. My track coach believes in periodic (once every two weeks or so at the beginning of the season) workouts on very steep hills with about 1 minute intervals. Though those allows for more speed, the question still remains as to whether this type of workout, with around 10 intervals, is enough. Personally, always inclined to take distance over intensity, I'm not convinced. So, finally, we come to my final coach's perspective. This Olympic trials runner believes in very short fifteen second hill sprints after a different workout. When I first experienced this in practice, I was immediately taken by it. Maybe it's because of how I run, but I'd rather do a longer workout with acme speed work to top it off than simply a hard speed day. Weird as I am, I feel like running for pure speed isn't the most worthwhile use of my time. Which is why today I ran my gills post-run. Yes, I admit it, I abridged my spring break workouts. I was supposed to take the second approach today but just couldn't bring myself to. Instead I ran my usual run, 6 miles, not at a slow pace, then proceeded to the hill a couple blocks down. I feel the need to mention that this hill is no gradual incline. It's about 100 meters, at least a 15 degree incline, and moderately public. People looked at me even more awkwardly than usual. All that aside, I am just curious about the responsibility an athlete has to their coach. The relationship between coach and team is complex and based on trust. If an athlete believes their training is ineffective, do they have the right to change it themselves? Do they have the responsibility? Or is it inherent in the law of competitive sports that the trainee listen to the trainer at all costs? I'm inclined to think it's a little of both. The player has to submit unquestioningly to the authority of the coach, but they do need to take control of their own training. They have the right and responsibility to do what they can to improve themselves because they know their blades and strengths and weaknesses more than anyone. And, if their authority is surpassed, what's a coach to do? With that, I'd like to open up the discussion. Where do you stand on coaching philosophy? Also, for anyone interested, I have a new favorite post-run snack: Greek yogurt with fruit of any kind and topped with whole grain cereal. This covers protein and carbs to replenish glycogen stores and repair muscles. It also tastes great!

Running from the outside

I can proudly say I've stayed diligent in my Spring Break workouts! The same cannot be said, however, for the blog. I lament to report that the 7-year-old I'm relying on to send me poctures of our cake hasn't quite come through yet, though I oppose I can't be very disappointed there. Nevetheless, vie continued to bake and run, I just haven't had time to post about it! Thus, I'm trying to make up for lost time. Yesterday's workout was quite the success. I did about three sub-seven minute miles including minute long race pace pickups every fourth minute. I'm always surprised at the amount of endurance I have, but also dismayed at my own lack of speed. I think I'd be much better if we had a 10k race in stead of these shorter 1-2 mile races. Even a 5k helps because settling in is a bit more acceptable. Either way, I worked on my speed after my typical hour run today, pacing out 100 meters (based on strides) down my street. This is yet another reason people judge runners. Whenever we do anything but a steady run in a straight line they get confused; even if it's a simple fartlek run (literally translated to "speed play") they condemn our inconsistent pacing. Now, sprinting 100's down the road is much more unconventional, earning stares and the ill-concealed confusion of onlookers. It takes a runner to know a runner. With that, I'm going to open this subject up for debate. Do outsiders really see our sport as borderline insane? Ive opened a poll to explore this. And what is their reaction when they catch a glimpse of ournworld? I know that I, personally, have grown tired of the conventional, "run, Forrest, run!" cheer. What are your thoughts?

Remorse of the restful

I regret to report that the cake was destroyed before I got a chance to document it!  Not to worry, because with family friends visiting who share an interest in food, we will surely have something tasty whipped up by tonight.  I hope to have some pictures and/or recipes up soon!  Meanwhile, it was another Sunday of rest/.  I feel so unfulfilled on rest days.  Lately I've even had feelings of guilt while running.  This is what I contemplated as I stretched my tight muscles today.  These feelings of guilt and yearning for my regular run were not out of character but nevertheless I was surprised.

It's been rather odd.  On easy runs I feel that I should be pushing myself harder or doing a workout.  However, I know this isn't the case.  Easy runs and recovery days are one of the most crucial parts of training.  Muscles that have been broken need to be repaired, so repeatedly punishing them with no recovery time is detrimental to improvement.  I even recently read an article advocating two rest days between two days of hard running.  

Though we all know the importance of rest (or, at least, we should) my competitive drive often gets the best of me.  I find myself pushing the pace on easy runs just for the feeling of speed and the satisfaction that comes afterwards.  The contentment of having worked muscles is addictive, but it's a dangerous drug.  I read another article about how we workout to race, not race our workouts.  Often on my teams we have issues with this, including, as I've mentioned, my own tendencies.  Especially in hard workouts it is counterproductive to push yourself to race people you know are faster in the hopes of boosting your pride.  Sticking with your own personal pacing is a much better bet; internalizing a pace and effort level can help with even splits, helping the body stay strong throughout the whole race.  Workouts are about time, while racing is about competition.  Too often we act like it's the reverse.  

Therefore I have a challenge.  In this upcoming week, I myself (and anyone reading, if you;d like) will focus on completing each workout for its intended purpose.  I'll report back to see how it's affected the psychology of my runs.  It seems like an opportunity to liberate myself from the stress of hard workouts and the remorse of easy runs.  Because running is a mental sport and training the mind is as important as training the body.  Happy running!