Taper Panic

Early this morning, I was on the bus headed to work.

A majority of the time I doze off on the bus. I welcome the bus ride most days. It breaks apart my work like and home life. I catch up on social media, emails, maybe even read up on the government shut down.

Today I was wide awake and my mind was racing. Here's what it was thinking -

A pain has developed down the left side of my neck which has my sleep schedule in flux. 

After the first few days of the pain, I went to my massage therapist. He worked through the problem area and checked my alignment. The suggestions - stand up straight. No more purse on the shoulder. Stay away from caffeine and sugar. And possibly try - seeing a chiropractor or a muscle relaxer. 

The first two recommendations are easy. Staying away from caffeine and sugar is pretty challenging, but I'm trying to reduce as much as possible. Then there's the chiro and muscle relaxers. I'm reluctant to do either. 

When I was a kid, I was always the tallest one in the class. It remained that way until high school when finally some of the basketball and football players were taller.  Being tall at a young age has it's pros and cons. One con being that for whatever reason, if you are tall, you're almost automatically on the scoliosis watch list. 

Did anyone else have that in middle school or junior high? I don't remember if they ever explained what it was to us, but rather that we had a screening. I'd had my hearing and vision checked at school and nothing bad had happened. But the scoliosis screen was different. After being reviewed in a makeshift exam room covered by sheet partitions in the gym, I was given a colored slip. I remember bring the only one in my class who got one.

 I was officially on the watch list.

In 5th or 6th grade, I was pretty sure scoliosis meant death. Why am I the only messed up one? This is what I get for being tall? I didn't even ask to be tall. 

For years there after, I was checked and screened regarding the spine. And I hated every minute of it. That is, up until it ended (as in, the screening stopped). Then I was free. 

Every time I see a chiropractor's office set up for a free screening, I think back to middle school. Certainly they will find something wrong with me. Then I'll have adjustment appointments for life. 

But I trust my massage therapist. So I guess I should do it. 

Then there's muscle relaxers. I know they have their purpose and some people swear by them. I'm more focused on getting to the source of the pain than masking the pain. I don't think it's the solution for me.

Especially not when I have a race Sunday.

Hope it magically goes away by then.

In Between Races

This year, I'm mixing things up.

I waiver between thinking my change of pace is completely awesome or completely and utterly dumb.

I've registered for two marathons...14 days apart.

The Chicago Marathon is this Sunday, October 13th. I'm proud to say this is my hometown marathon. 

When I first started training for a marathon, my goal was to run Chicago once. I was inspired to run Chicago after watching my uncle run the race while I was in high school. Talk about a memory that has lasted nearly a lifetime.

I've thought about not running Chicago. I could, per say, run a marathon somewhere else. Maybe another big city marathon. But the thing that always brings me back is what a great, I mean fantastic, race Chicago is. How can I not run Chicago when it's so damn convenient? 

It would be like me telling you I don't like the new Trader Joe's location in Evanston. It has everything every other TJ's has but its in my backyard. No more traveling to Lakeview or Glenview for my Orange Chicken, Mango Salsa, Cookie Butter and everything else uniquely Trader Joe's that I now cannot live without. Location is key. Being in my car less makes me happy. Big win for TJ's Evanston (even if your parking lot is sort of a nightmare).

No really, Chicago truly is an outstanding race.  One in which I am lucky enough to sleep in my own bed the night before, jump on the same train I take often to work and can navigate downtown better than any other city. Huge pluses, er stars. 

So when Chicago's registration opened in February, I was one of the lucky few who got in without registration issues. Chicago Marathon #6 was confirmed. 

A number of weeks later, registration for the Marine Corps Marathon opened. This was the race I had my eyes on this year. Though the registration process proved challenging, I had a registration confirmation before the race sold out. 

And then, back in March, suddenly I had two marathons two weeks apart. 

So, to the question everyone is asking me - How are you training in between?

Well, that's a great question. One in which I've done maybe a half hour of research on so far. My first source was Hal Higdon. Hal's the man. His training programs have gotten me through five marathons and probably two dozen halves, so if he says he has a plan for two marathons two weeks part, I'm just going to go with it. One day, after my thirty minutes of research concluded, I wrote down the run schedule on a napkin and pinned it to my cork board in my office. Very official. 

I've talked with a few friends who've done multiple marathons in a condensed period, including my friend George, a man who knocks out two marathons in two states in a weekend on a regular basis. The wisdom passed along to me so far has been to pick one race as my goal race.  The other is just for fun. What if goal race and fun effort are the same? I'm trying to wrap my head around that. 

My plan thus far goes something like this. Run Chicago. Don't die. Don't get sick. Don't get injured. Run a smart race (mainly this means listen to your body - my body doesn't like heat). Drink beer after crossing finish line and start honing in on best recovery practices for 13 days. Go for a long massage the next day. Maybe another before boarding the plane to DC. Drink lots of fluids. Stretch. Try to jog it out like Hal instructed. Attend a moderate yoga class (tone down the arm balances or inversions at The Lab if needed). Eat a lot and anything I want, cause, I just bought myself two more weeks of it. 

The end. 

Let's see how this works (or doesn't). 

70 Miles To Go

Last Saturday, Jeff and I ran together in the last few miles of our 12 mile run.

This past weekend was the first weekend of our taper period before the Chicago Marathon.

We're enjoying the taper with some nerves as this will be first of two taper periods - We'll run the Marine Corps Marathon in DC two weeks after the Chicago Marathon.

We kept conversation going as we were both a bit sluggish and sore from a 20 mile run the weekend before.

One memorable conversation went like this -

Jeff: "From what I can figure, we only have about 70 miles to go."

Me: "70?"

Jeff: "Yeah, Chicago and Marine Corps are 52, 8 next weekend, 8 the weekend in between, then a four miler somewhere in there."

Me: "Sounds about right. The scary thing is we're doing this all in the next 28 days."

Jeff: "Yeah, but it's going to be fun."

Yes, Jeff. Yes it is.

Chicago Marathon 2012 - Race Preparation

Unofficially I've been preparing for the marathon 2012 since the day after marathon 2011.

The mild winter allowed me to keep my weekly mileage up in what are typically low mileage months. I ran a number of races in the spring, leading up to a good base once marathon training officially started in early June.

In the last 18 weeks, I've spent roughly 70 hours training or racing and another 50 hours in the yoga studio. That's not counting Ragnar Relay, because, well, it should be it's own thing.

And there's marathoners who dedicate significantly more time than that.

All for one day. Not even a full day.

A morning. One morning in October.

 Normally I find myself obsessing about the weather or my nutrition strategy during the taper. This year I tried to remain calm. In the end, maybe a bit too calm.

When Brian, Kim and I headed to the Expo on Friday. We walked throughout the Expo - a hundred thousand square foot utopia of all things running. I managed to spend a mere $8 on Gu and forgot to pick up Spectator Guides for my family and friends. Not my normal expo strategy.

Then it was off to dinner where we had delicious pasta and a few glasses of wine. (Wine less than two days before race day?)

But I did do some things right. I hydrated and ate well in the week leading up to the race. I logged good hours of sleep. I felt ready.

That is, until Saturday night.

Shortly after my Mom came over, I started going through my pre-race ritual - laying out the outfit, pinning the bib number onto the shirt, etc.

I looked all over the condo and couldn't find Dave's famous cowbell sign. He always has that big yellow sign. So I made a new one. 

Then I couldn't find duct tape to attach my name to my shirt. I searched high and low for it. Just before walking out the door to CVS to buy some, I looked one last time in a place I'd checked six times before and finally found it.

Oh boy, it's going to be a long night.

I went through the marathon check list, sealed up my participant bag and went to bed.

In a few short hours I'd wake up and head downtown for my fifth marathon.

The Last Long Run

Friday night we celebrated my Uncle's birthday. He's the one that inspired me to run a marathon.

This weekend is my last long run before the marathon. A measly 8 miles.

Though I normally try to stick to Saturday morning training runs with the exception of vacation or races, 8 miles could wait until Sunday.

I went out after lunch this afternoon. It's so rare that I run on a weekend afternoon. I took notice of everything that seemed out of place.

More traffic on Sheridan. Cars blaring music as they wait in traffic. Kids on bikes. College kids with backpacks, anxiously attending to their smart phones.

Then onto the path where couples were walking together, some dogs ran without leashes, runners passed by and cyclists whizzed by.

A pick up basketball game was in full swing at the court north of Foster. Some visited Foster Avenue beach for what could be the last warm Sunday of the season.

Soccer games were held for all ages with varied field sizes - pint sized for the little tykes and regulation for the adults. A band performed before a game held around Wilson. Groups gathered for barbeques. Kids rode their bikes and ran up Cricket Hill. Mobile ice cream carts strolled by.

I turned around at Irving to head back north. The golf course seemed quiet today. I imagined many would be patrons were busy watching the Ryder Cup.

I took notice of fall colors coming out in the trees' leaves. In some ways, I can't believe I'm at this point in training, week 17, again. Each year these 17 weeks seem to go by faster.

This coming Sunday will be the fifth time I've stood in the start corral for the Chicago Marathon. Though I've done the same race four times so far, each year has been drastically different from the other.

I'm sure this year will be it's own story as well.

Running in Circles

I don't like running in circles.

Or the sight of tracks.

Every time I see a track, it reminds me of high school. I'm taken back to tennis practice. We did a lot of running. We ran to warm up. We ran drills. Anytime you lost in a practice game, you ran. Anytime you were goofing around, you ran. Each time you had to run, you'd set down your racquet, run through the parking lot, and onto the track. Each time this happened, you knew you were in for a least a half mile.

In our sophomore year, our school built a field house and we had a winter Track team. Since we had spent a lot of time running during summer and fall, my friends and I thought that it made sense to check out what track had to offer.

Which was, of course, even more running. Warm ups, speed work outs, strength conditioning, running over hurdles, running in your approach over the high jump bar. Lots and lots of running.

I drive by my high school and look at the area where the tennis courts were, the parking lot, the field house and the track and I cringe.

So needless to say, I don't spend lots of time doing track work outs.

However, you have those days where it makes the most sense.

Maybe you're pressed for time and need to do a quick, efficient work out.

Maybe your friend Kim A. has convinced you to do a mock Bootcamp class.

Or maybe you're fending off an injury and think the cushy track a few blocks from your place would be a good alternative to hitting the concrete jungle.

On Wednesday, a new pair of shoes arrived at my place. They are the pair of shoes I'll run the marathon in. As a runner, it's awfully hard to resist a new pair of shoes.

Since I was leery about my the inflamed soleus, I took the track approach. An easy jog.

The track by my house is smaller than a quarter mile. I'm grateful to have one so close when I need it, but running around it more than four times for a mile is complete torture. It seems to take forever to get to a mile. I'm already getting bored. I stop a few times along the way to stretch out. I try to focus on my playlist or the college kids playing Frisbee. I finally hit three miles and head home.

Hopefully tomorrow I can go back on the road.

Mission: Go to Ethnic Market. Buy Gatorade.

It's four days before the Marathon.

My achilles is on the mend, but my mind's driving me crazy.

Hello taper madness.

I get home from work and I decide a nice walk to the ethnic market in my neighborhood will do me some good. It's about a mile from my place and has fresh, reasonably priced produce. Actually the market has a lot more than that, but most of the dry goods are in languages I can't read (though I know enough Spanish to know it's not in Spanish), so don't tend to go down the aisles.

I have a long list of veggies we need for a recipe. The recipe calls for veggies, chicken and lots of pasta. Perfect for a Friday dinner before the marathon.

I walk around the market with my basket and get red peppers, broccoli, cucumbers, carrots and romaine lettuce. I'm even able to find the market's homemade salsa which is marked in English for the dumb patrons like me.

I start to walk over to the check out line when I remember one last thing on my grocery list: Gatorade. I wanted to make sure I made a better effort to drink more Gatorade in the few days leading up to the race.

Does the ethnic market carry Gatorade? I saw Coke and Pepsi on the way in, so there's hope. I walk down the narrow aisles, the ones I usually avoid, until I come upon a rather large selection of Gatorade. I wasn't anticipating having so many choices, so it takes me awhile to decide what flavors of Gatorade I want. Meanwhile, people who can read the language on the packages other than Gatorade stroll past me with their carts.

Eventually I pony up to the register with 4 - 32 oz bottles of Gatorade and a bunch of produce. What a strange combination the check out girl must have thought.

I pay her all in singles, which likely got her off the thought of produce and Gatorade.

The Country Music Half Marathon Pack Job

It's Wednesday at 9:30pm.

60 hours from now, I will be finished with the Country Music Half Marathon.

There's not a lot of time, and there's lots to do.

Maybe I should be panicking.

The race is 450+ miles from Chicago and we're at the travel mercy of O'Hare airport.

Destination races are fun, right?

I printed off the confirmation email for the race. The Competitior Group must think I still live with my parents. That's cool. I can run this race as Laura from Mokena.

Then I was on the phone with Kim determining how we're getting to the airport. Our flight is early Friday. I'm still looking for the confirmation email from the airline.

I am in the process of packing. That is, if you can call an empty suitcase with four packets of Gu, a empty fuel belt, running shorts, four packets of oatmeal and a hat thrown on top of it packing. What a random list of crap. Pretty amazing I am thinking of Gu and oatmeal before I'm thinking of other essentials like running shoes or socks. Then again, depending on how well you know me, you know 'I gotta eat!'

This is only my second destination race. My first was this race two years ago. I enjoyed it enough to do it again, but first I had to give myself two years to forget about the hills.

Packing isn't coming along so well since I'm blogging and making up a list for stuff I need to do when I get back. This is part of my OCD while tapering. Tapering for a full will take control of your life for two weeks. A half, well, maybe you can get away with just a few days. I've been worried all day that I'm not hydrating enough, so I know that the taper mentality has certainly set in.

Here's the course map:

Looks like a tangled web of insanity. And it looks really hilly. Somehow.

This race is a half marathon and a full marathon. I'm running the first 11 with the big boys and then I'm taking a sharp right and wusing out. And I'm completely ok with that.

I looked up my time from last year 2:22:something-or-other. Do seconds really matter anyway? If I can do a sub 2:25, I'll call this race a success.  And even if it's not sub 2:25, it's still a success because I had fun, I ran, went on a vacation, and I wasn't sitting on my couch eating (insert favorite Easter candy).

Taper Madness

Less than five days to race day, and already, I can't focus.

Well, I can't focus on work or things to do around my condo, or anything I would normally be consumed with.

No.

Instead, I am focusing on things like -

Checking multiple weather websites at various times in the day.
Newsflash: They haven't changed...today.

My boss said he didn't feel well this morning. Am I going to catch his cold?

Reading the Marathon website and runner participant guide...again.
You never know, I could have missed something.

Varying degrees of positive and negative thoughts.
For example, "Training went really well. I can do this. [Then I think] I sprained my ankle just over a week ago, what am I doing?!?"
Scenarios like this go on and on.

Hoarding race day gear.
I've checked that my clothes and clean and that I have enough Gu.
I'm sure I'll check it all again...tomorrow.

Hazards appeared on my normal lunch time run to Buckingham Fountain.
None of them are new - cracks in the asphalt, cyclists, crosswalks - but today they are all safety issues.

Suddenly I have a quite vivid account of the last few miles of the race last year. They were hard. This experience is tough. Why am I doing this to myself again? How can anyone love inflicting pain on themselves?

Even with those thoughts, the pros still outweigh the cons, and I can' t wait.

I'm ready for you...Wednesday.