Done! My first half-marathon (Blue & Grey Half)

Merry Christmas! My gift to you (or myself?) - this long-awaited recap of The Race. I figure that almost a month later is plenty of time to have gotten myself situated and found the right words for this one. You be the judge.

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I still can't exactly believe that I ran a half-marathon.

New hot pink laces, because, duh, pink makes everything better.

That seems like such a huge deal, yet, at the same time, not a huge deal at all. My brain is thinking “SERIOUSLY?!” but simultaneously, “no big!” 13.1 miles – done.

When Suzann and I first started talking about doing a half before the end of 2012, in June or July-ish, we had a lot of contributing factors to finding the right race: it needed to be close(ish), it needed to be on a Sunday (she teaches on Saturday mornings), it needed to be early enough in December that it wasn’t -36 degrees. It seemed unlikely that we would find just the right race, and that was ok… I don’t think we were too convinced that we could do it yet (speaking for myself for sure, here – I was pretty sure there was no way I could run 13.1 miles in just a few months). Lo and behold, though, I stumbled across a link for the VA Runner Blue & Gray – a half-marathon, in Fredericksburg, VA (just down 95 from us), 2^nd weekend in December, on Sunday. It was meant to be. We started planning on doing it – running longer runs, talking about “our half,” but FYI, we never actually SIGNED UP for the race until… 5 weeks out? It wasn’t real yet, we weren’t committed… until one fateful afternoon as we sat eating lunch at Panera, and we got a burst of dedication and registered on the spot. On my phone. Fees paid, no reimbursement. We were running a half-marathon.

Keep in mind that this was in the midst of my injury saga – I wasn’t running fully yet; in fact, I wasn’t even cleared to resume exercise fully yet. The longest I’d run in weeks was 3 or 4 miles – my longest training (11 miles) had been done in September (and stayed my longest training; the most I did up till race day was 7 ½). Nonetheless, I was in. I knew I could do it.

Suz and I decided to stay in a hotel in Fredericksburg the night before the race – it just seemed easier to give ourselves a relaxing night than try to fight our way down 95 at 4 AM and pray we didn’t hit any traffic or anything. Instead, we spent Saturday evening having dinner, wandering the mall, and eating Sweet Frog (our fave!) before getting into bed early. I couldn’t have asked for a better pre-race experience – we were relaxed, happy, and just 5 minutes from the race start. It was perfect!

We woke up on Sunday and we were both wide-awake, energetic, ready to go. We were completely unsure about the weather. We’d both packed for just about anything: rain, cold, warm, whatever. The forecast was for drizzle all day, 100% chance, but the temperature was supposed to be in the 50s. Granted, at 6:30 AM, it was only in the 30s, but when we got out there, it wasn’t raining, just overcast. Perfect! We dressed in our layers, ate hard boiled eggs and drank coffee, and danced around the hotel room. I’d requested late checkout, so we didn’t have to pack anything up, and we got ourselves to the VA Runner parking lot, where the race was starting, at about 7:20. We had ten minutes till kickoff. That wasn’t exactly the way we planned it (time flew while we were getting ready!) but it turned out for the best – we didn’t leave ourselves much time to get nervous or anxious. We were just heading out for a regular long run. Normal.

Blooper - but I kind of love it.

Pre-race nerves. We can do this!

The gun sounded and off we went – I’d like to give a major shout-out to the “Shuffle” feature on my iPhone for knowing that I needed to start the race with a little Britney Spears. I am unashamed and very vocal about my love of Miss Spears, and no less that 1/3 of my race-day playlist was comprised of her music. I started off my first half marathon listening to some great tunes, and I knew it was going to be a good day.

Miles 1-6 were relatively uneventful. Suz and I puttered along, chatting and occasionally checking our Garmins. As it turned out, we both felt that we dressed perfectly for the weather – just enough clothing, the right layers, etc. I ate some Sports Beans around mile 3.5 and 6, aiming for every 3 miles as I’d planned, purely because I wanted to maintain my sugar levels, not because I was feeling off or anything. I didn’t want to risk having my sugar drop and blowing the whole thing, so I just went with a few beans every few miles. We walked through the water stations, having a few sips and taking it easy, which I felt was really helpful for me. I felt totally ON – I don’t know how to describe it, but everything about the race just felt right.

Miles 7-8 was where I started thinking “OK, I’m ready to be done.” Too bad we still had 5 miles to go… There wasn’t really anything wrong, I just started to get bored. Is that weird? My mind was wandering and I was thinking about all the things I needed to do to get ready for Christmas and such. I had a little mental battle about how much longer I still had to run, but got it together after a few minutes. I started feeling a little pain in the arch of my right foot – not sure what that was about, but it continued for the rest of the race, then immediately ended and I haven’t felt it since. It was a nagging irritation, though.

Suz decided to slow down just a tad, and I was feeling a fresh burst of energy, so she encouraged me to go on ahead. I picked up the pace by just a bit, and ran the rest of the race alone. Miles 9-10, I tried to really concentrate on my breathing, speed, overall status - I knew I'd push too hard if I wasn't careful. In hindsight, perhaps I should have just stayed at her pace, because I really could have used the company and support during those second-half miles. What’s done is done, though.

Special shout-out now to Mike, the guy that I accidentally paced myself with exactly for Mile 11, who chatted with me for a good ten minutes about a variety of things. He was a savior, because I really needed a friend right about then. He was running his first race in 15+ years, and getting ready for a St. Patrick’s Day marathon. He was awesome! His friendliness could not have come at a better time. (Side note – I ran into him after the race, and thanked him profusely for letting me run with him and chat with him. That felt good!)

Mile 12 was some sort of sick joke: it was uphill. No, really, uphill. And it was hard. The race course info on the website had mentioned this tiny factoid, but I was seriously not ready for the 90-degree vertical incline of this mile (slight exaggeration, perhaps, but trust me) (but really - the description on the race website says, "Mile 12 goes back up from 50 to 250 feet on what is known as hospitalization hill. This is the same hill as part of the USMC Historic Half where the runner in 2009 had the heart attack." Oh, OKAY. Sure.). Anyway. I tried to very, very gently jog it, but it just wasn’t happening. I ended up doing a walk/jog alternate thing, and probably walked ½ a mile. Not my proudest moment, but it had to happen. My knees were starting to ache, and I just had to give myself a few moments of rest. The last mile and a half were pretty torturous – everything hurt, but I was SO CLOSE. iPhone Shuffle to the rescue AGAIN – the last song that I listened to, as I pushed my way through Mile 13, was Britney Spears. Seriously, how did it know?! I started mentally repeating my go-to mantra: “I can do anything for five more minutes. I can do anything for one more mile. I can do anything for half a mile.” And I did.

Crossing the finish line was the most amazing moment. As I came around the final corner and heard people cheering and clapping, I decided that this was it, and I pulled all my energy from I-don’t-know-where and sprinted the last .2 of a mile. I pushed myself so hard in those final few seconds (and pretty much felt like throwing up immediately after) but it felt so good to cross that line. It was over. I’d run my first half marathon. I expected to have lots of *~*EMOTIONS!~*~ but really, I was exhausted, and all I wanted was water (which took me an obnoxiously long amount of time to find). Not so much in the way of feelings – I was just done, and that was that.

Suz was just a few minutes behind me, and we found each other and hugged and laughed and collapsed onto the sidewalk before asking a nice man to take our picture. Necessary.

Finishers! So thrilled.

Best. Beer. Ever.

We did a little shopping at VA Runner (hello new hot pink compression sleeves and Brooks running jacket, happy birthday to me!), and got our 13.1 magnets, which you better believe were immediately applied to our cars.  

The moment where we remembered that we had late check-out at the hotel and could therefore shower before driving home was amazing. Such good planners!

When Suz finally dropped me off at home later that afternoon, I proceeded to inhale a Five Guys burger provided by my sister and take a three-hour nap. Both very, very well deserved.

Nap partner.

Originally, way back when, I set my personal goal to run this race in under two hours. Then I got injured, and couldn't run, and blah blah blah. My goal shifted its way to "just finish the race!" but I held onto a glimmer of hope that I could do it in under 2 hours and 10 minutes, which would be a pace of 10:00 minutes/mile(ish). That seemed doable. Well, ladies and gents, I am pleased to present my official time:

2:09:56.

Boo-ya.

Obviously, I have my goal for the next half - I'm determined to shave at least a few minutes off of that. I'm pretty sure that, had Mile 12 not been so ridiculously hard, I would have done a lot better. But I'm still pretty proud of that! 

I’m giving myself some time off from running – just until after the holidays, because I think that I need a mental break. This is a bit odd, given that I wasn’t running very much before the race due to my injury, but it just felt like I needed to take some time and say “enough for now.” I’ve literally run two miles since the race, and they were on the treadmill at Gold’s one day when I got there too late for the class I wanted to take. Come January, though, I’m raring to go – after all, have to put all the running-related gifts that I got for Christmas to good use!

Race Recap: Wicked 10K

Yesterday, I had one of my worst runs ever. I was cleared by my chiropractor on Thursday to “jump back into it,” and I took his word for all it was worth – yesterday Suz & I decided to do seven miles, easily my longest run in months. We are officially signed up for our half-marathon on December 9, meaning we are just over a month away, and we (I) have got to get back into training mode and get back into shape. So, off we went. And it was awful. We were doing an out-and-back, and the out actually felt really good. Nothing was hurting too badly, my breathing was ok, the temperature was good. Once we turned around, though, it was all downhill from there (except it was mostly uphill… issues). My legs were tired, I couldn’t breathe, my back hurt. I actually slowed down to walk up a few hills because my body was just saying no. Suz was fantastic, as usual (you’re the best, friend!), pep-talking me and staying slow with me and encouraging me to lay down on the path and stretch like a maniac. We finished a little over seven miles in a little over an hour, and I proved to myself that my endurance is shoddy and my body is in desperate need of some conditioning before December 9. Eeeeek. Previous goal: half in under two hours. New goal: finish half. Blerg. My body feels awful today – everything is sore. Back to Square One.

So, since yesterday was so horrible, I figured that it was as good a time as any to write my Race Recap for the Wicked 10k! (Also, because the race was weeks ago, and as I have another race this weekend, I’m about to be miserably behind. But that is neither here nor there.) The best way to come off a horrible run is to remember a great one, right?...

Race Recap

I can easily say that the Wicked 10k was one of my favorite,  favorite, favorite races/runs to-date. It was my first J & A race, and I was blown away by how organized everything was, how simple it was, and how generous they were. I don’t think I have one single complaint about this race!

My sister and I headed to Virginia Beach on Friday night, amidst many warnings about the impending hurricane that was due to make landfall that weekend. Hurricane, schmurricane – we had a race to run! Nat & I signed up for the Wicked 10K in the early summer – we had been looking forward to it for months, and nothing was going to stand in our way! Key note: this race was sponsored by Blue Moon, and one of the incentives was free beer for all finishers. Done and done. Not even my old-woman back… my doctor had recommended that I take it very easy, listen to my body, and not push myself. As badly as I wanted to race this one, I knew that I couldn’t. I had to make the healthy choice. And so I headed into the weekend resigned to that fact.

Nat and I got to VB 15 minutes before the expo closed and raced in to pick up our packets. It was actually a breeze (insert hurricane jokes, starting immediately…), and we got our numbers, tech tees, and “I’m 21 so I can drink beer after the race” wristbands in just a few minutes. We met up with Nat’s OUR (better, Lush??) friend, Lauren, and chowed down on pizza (pre-race fuel! Or that’s how we justified it) before crashing for the night at our rather-sketchy hotel. 

Waking up on Saturday morning was actually easy – we all got ready pretty quick and were feeling good. The Wicked 10k is a Halloween-themed race, and costumes are encouraged. We had no idea how seriously people take this – we saw some AMAZING costumes… that must have been hell to run in. It’s a big deal, though, and we were wishing we’d been more prepared! Nat brought the mouse ears that she’d made for another costume, and we painted whiskers on our face, dressed in black and grey, and went as mice. It didn’t work out too well, though, because the gale-force winds (hurricane, remember?) kept knocking the ears off our heads, long before the race even started. So the ears went into the backpack, and we looked like normal runners… with whiskers. Don’t judge.

Pre-Race Mice

The start of the race was so smooth – corrals were released every 90 seconds, and it put a good distance between groups so that everyone wasn’t right on top of each other at the beginning. We actually ran over the starting line, and we felt good.

Lost the ears already... oh well. Ready to go!

BFFs

The original idea was to run two miles, walk two, and run the last two, and then alter the plan depending on how I/we felt. We ended up just running and slowing to walk whenever we needed a break, and I didn’t really keep track, but I think we probably ran 2/3 and walked 1/3, just not as specifically as we’d originally intended. We went at a nice, slow place, enjoying the live music along the race path, interacting with spectators (special shout-out to the people we got paper cups of Natty Light from… they were amazing), and not trying to push ourselves at all. Honestly, I don’t even think I got out of breath during this race. The course was completely flat (being at the beach will do that) and it was such an easy run. The only hard part was, again, the gale-force winds. The wind actually slowed up to a walk at some points, because it was blowing so strong against us! The really bad part was when we were actually on the boardwalk – the wind was blowing the sand around, and it was hitting our faces, legs, and arms. Any skin that wasn’t covered was being exfoliated – who knew there were spa benefits to this race? HA.

Angry ocean mid-run... hurricane on the way!

Still a beautiful backdrop for a run... even if the sand was scraping my skin off!

Action shot!

Gorgeous. Calm before the storm.

We picked up the pace a bit as we neared the finish line, and all three of us crossed together. Even the finish line was organized – there were so many volunteers, and they had everyone lined up handing out water, bananas, power bars, and medals. There was no mad rush for tents of food or anything – you just kept walking down the boardwalk, taking things as they were handed to you. SO EASY. Loved it.

I went straight to the medical tent to get iced and wrapped, and Nat and Lauren went and picked up our backpack. It took about five minutes to get taken care of in the med tent, and I’m really thankful for that – I know that being able to get ice on my back so quickly definitely helped with how good I felt afterwards. I was a little bit sore, but it was more about being sore from running than actual pain in my back. Hooray!

The three of us made our way back to the Convention Center, where the “After Party” was being held. Originally, it was supposed to be under big tents on the beach, but due to the impending hurricane, J & A made the decision to move the party indoors well in advance. I will say, that was another thing that I thought was fantastic about this race – the communication was excellent. There were regular emails before the race with information and emails the day before discussing how the weather was going to affect the race. I didn’t have to search for info or wonder what was going on – J & A was completely upfront and connected the whole time. So great! I'm looking into the other J & A races, because there is really something to be said for a well-organized race. It was such a nice event overall that I'd really love to do another of their races - my experience this time definitely bodes well for the future.
At the Convention Center, we cashed in our tickets for bread bowls of chili and those coveted Blue Moons… beers never tasted so good! 

Done! 10k Finishers

Feeling so good! Happy to be done & pain-free

Me and my big little sister <3

Little lush finished, too

We ate and enjoyed the warmth and the music for a bit before going back to the hotel for showers and cleaning up. Natalie and I were on the road home by about 12:30 PM, full, tired, and happy. A stop at Chipotle right before we got home was possibly the best decision of the entire weekend. We’d had an absolute blast, and couldn’t stop talking about how much fun we’d had and what a great race it was. 

We will definitely be signing up for the 2013 Wicked 10k, and we’re already brainstorming costume ideas. Now that we know how seriously people take that part of it, we are determined to do better! And, obviously, we are hoping for some better weather next year… We are very glad that Hurricane Sandy didn’t interfere with our fun at all (especially given what happened in the next few days).  I had so much fun with Nat and Lauren, I had a great (slow) race, I finished my first official 10k, and I got my first race medal! I loved doing this race with my sister, too. She is my original run buddy, my original racing partner; we have so much fun together when we do things like that, and I was glad that we got to experience this one together. As I said before… not sure I have one single complaint about that race. Can’t wait for 2013!

Pretty sweet, no? Love it!

Activ-ain't

Considering the fact that I consider myself a bit of a fitness fanatic (I know, I know, that's still weird to me, too), it's been decidedly quiet around these parts re: the topic of fitness lately. And personally, I hate it.

This back issue is the first "major" injury that I've ever had to deal with, outside of shin splints. This is the first time I've ever found myself truly sidelined from an injury. This is the first time I've been told, "do not do anything." I know that, in the grand scheme of things, this little back twinge is hardly a "major" injury, but for someone who's just never experienced anything like this, it is really changing my perspective. My perspective is currently coming from the couch. Humph.

And seriously, truly - this is killing me. I am not good at being injured. I am not good at being patient and resting and healing and sitting around doing nothing. Honestly, it's been fun to make some dinners that require more effort in the evenings, and spend more time with C watching TV (my couch-potato status gave us plenty of time to watch all of Season 1 of Homeland!) and snuggling my cat. But I am so over it. I want to be in the gym. I want to go to yoga and BodyPump and my abs class. I want to run. I want my normal routine back.

I know that if I push too soon or jump in too fast, I'm going to hurt myself again, and probably worse. I know that I need to be gentle and take my time and blah blah blah. But when I'm sitting on the couch feeling squishy because I had a week of FIVE REST DAYS (blerg), I tend to forget those things and just feel like I want to jump up and put on my tennis shoes and run. I haven't been this inactive in years. Seriously - years. Ever since that first day in January 2010 that my mom and I signed up for Gold's, I've been religiously, fanatically going to the gym and getting in workouts every single time I possibly can. This couch-potato person is who I used to be, not who I am now. I'm getting antsy. I'm looking in the mirror and can practically see my muscle definition evaporating (dramatic, perhaps, but it's cool). I was feeling good a few months ago. Now I feel squishy.

I'm going to have to start back at square one, and I'm not looking forward to it. That means light weights and short runs. That means gentle classes and easing back into what I used to be doing. It means listening and taking those rest days that I need and continuing to be BFFs with my ice pack (we've gotten to know each other reallll good). It means I have to be patient (not something I'm good at). 

Feeling a bit like Debbie Downer today, but I needed to get this off my chest. And I figure that, if I write it all down, I have to stick to this plan of healing and working my way back into my old routine. Once the words are out there on the page, it has to happen, right? Whether I like it or not.

I do not like it, Sam-I-am.

Here's baby otters, to make up for the Moaning Myrtle post today:

[google images]

How to Get Out of Running a Race You Really Want to Run

Alternately titled, "I'm Too Stubborn for My Own Damn Good."

Follow these steps carefully:

1. Sign up for a race (for example, the Wicked 10K) months in advance (at least four. maybe five).
2. Injure your back, approximately two months before the race.
3. Ignore that injury, and continue exercising strenuously (for ideas, try lifting heavier weights than usual or running 11 miles...... just suggestions).
4. Complain a lot about said injury.
5. Finally see a chiropractor, who promptly tells you to ice your back 3-4 times daily and refrain from strenuous activity anything (like weight-lifting, or running) but the elliptical.
6. Rejoice in the glory that is being pain-free and gush about your chiropractor.
7. Ignore the chiropractor's advice - instead, ice one time daily and go for three runs.
8. Be confused when not only does your back hurt again, but it hurts worse.
9. See chiropractor again. He promptly yells at you for ignoring his advice and undoing the amazing work that he did on your back.
10. Decide to listen to chiropractor (he is a medical professional, after all) and finally start icing and stop exercising.
11. Heal - very, very slowly. Definitely not in time for your race. Which you could have run, had you:
1. Taken it easier when your back first started hurting.
2. See a doctor sooner.
3. Taken the doctor's advice.
4. Not been so freaking stubborn.
12. Be very, very sad about the fact that you will probably have to walk most of this race because there is an ice-cube's-chance-in-hell likelihood that the chiropractor will clear you to run 10k this weekend.

This is clearly a hypothetical suggestion, because obviously I would never be the person so dumb as to do all of these things. This is a horrible plan. Who would do these things??

Anyone else going to be at the Wicked 10K this weekend?? Wave to me as you run by. I'll be the crying dumb sad girl.

The Man Who Changed My Life

It wasn’t my father. It wasn’t my husband. In fact, it was a complete stranger – but our very short interaction did, in fact, change my life.

Before you start thinking that some deep, profound event occurred, let me set you straight – I finally saw a chiropractor. >>cue angels singing<<

Just like that.
[source]

I’ve mentioned before that my lower back has been bothering me, to the point that I’ve been taking some time off from the gym and going a bit easy in my workouts (minus the 11-mile run on Sunday, but that’s neither here nor there). I don’t like it – I prefer to stick to my regular, do-something-every day routine, but I also like to be able to do things like put on pants or get out of bed without feeling like an old woman. So, I’ve been trying to listen to my body.

I rested.

I stretched.

I foam-rolled.

I took walks.

I iced.

I heated.

I got a massage.

I tried everything I could think of, and it didn’t seem like anything was making an ounce of difference. The pain wasn’t severe or constant, but it was regular and just enough to be irritating – and just enough to have me changing up my routine. Finally, yesterday, when I was getting up from my chair at my desk and it still just ached, I decided to bite the bullet and find a doctor. (I hate going to the doctor. I’d really rather not – I’d rather just let nature run its course. But nature was not working this time around.)

So, I started calling doctors recommended by my insurance company until I found one that said the magic words: “we can see you today!” (OK, really, I called three – one was closed for the week, one wasn’t open yet, and the third had an after-work appointment available. You win! Done and done.)

When I got to the office, I handed over my new patient paperwork, and the doctor took me back immediately (seriously, that’s awesome. Awesome!). I explained where my pain was and what the circumstances were, and he had me sit down and he looked at and felt my back. Within seconds, he said “Yep! Your SI joint is all out of whack.” Well now - that, sir, sounds completely accurate. It’s basically exactly what I thought it was – I was misaligned. My right SI joint had sort of rotated and popped out of place, and the result was that it was pushing on the surrounding ligaments and causing swelling, hence the pain. Makes sense to me!

The offending joints.
[source]

In order to alleviate the pain, everything needed to be manipulated back into place. After some electro-pulse-therapy nonsense (to loosen and fatigue my back muscles) and ten minutes with a heating pad, the doctor gave me a good stretch and then popped my hips back into place. It was basically the best back-crack of my life. It took minutes. And I immediately felt better! WHY DIDN’T I DO THIS WEEKS AGO!? Seriously – could have saved myself a lot of pain and effort…. Lesson learned. I was advised to take the night off and ice my lower back a few times to get the swelling down, and ice it a few more times today, then come back into the office tomorrow to make sure that everything has stayed in place. I’m clear to do some light cardio tonight (elliptical, most likely, so that I’m not putting pressure on anything) and can do whatever upper-body weight-lifting I like. After that, go with it until the pain goes away, but it should clear up quickly now that there isn’t pressure and swelling where there shouldn’t be. 

The doctor was super nice and funny (he informed me that if I’d waited much longer, my hips would just keep rotating until my “butt was in the front” – ha) and explained what was going on with my body in a way that completely made sense. He was laid back, the office was nice and clean, and the receptionist was really sweet and totally on top of things (she had my insurance all figured out in seconds). Oh, and like I said – they got me in for an appointment same-day and made my return appointment in about two seconds. All in all, a fantastic find – I’m really pleased! (If you live in the NoVa area and want his name, let me know!) I just wish I’d gone sooner.

Best indicator that things are already getting better: I put on pants pain-free this morning. Success! (Granted, I’d rather just not being wearing pants, but that’s another thing that’s frowned upon in the work place… sigh.)

Giving Myself Permission to Quit the #RWRunStreak

Alternatively, this post could be titled “Your Body is Talking… Are You Listening?” Part/Section/Version/Round 2. It seems like perhaps that’s becoming a theme around here – be on the lookout for a weekly column titled “YBITARL?”! (Joking. Hopefully that is not necessary.)

For some background information, Runner’s World is currently hosting a challenge on their website called the Runner’s World RunStreak, or #RWRunStreak on Twitter. The challenge is to run 1+ miles per day, every day from Memorial Day to the Fourth of July. I, along with some of my runner girlfriends, decided to participate, and I hit the roads hard. I take a challenge very seriously – so much so, in fact, that I got up at 4:45 AM one day to get my run in, because I knew I wouldn’t have any other time during the day. To put it lightly, I am not a morning person. That’s how intent I’ve been on successfully participating in #RWRunStreak. What can I say? I’m competitive.

But last week, a problem arose. The words that no runner wants to hear – the dreaded SS: shin splints. The nasty pain in my shins came back with a vengeance, and let me tell you, it ain’t been pretty. Every step I've taken lately hurts. My shins ache. My muscles are tight. It's not good. And I recognize it.

More background: When I was in high school, I was on the dance team at school, and took five studio dance classes at a time.

Throwback! Crappy picture-of-a-picture, sorry. I'm on the left!

It was intense, and I developed some pretty nasty shin splints. There reached a point during my junior year of high school when I could not walk from class to class without debilitating pain in my shins, and a few doctor visits and a bone scan later, the doctor told me what was pretty obvious: I had heavily overdone it, and was causing myself serious damage. That, combined with other factors, led to my decision to quit the dance team for my senior year of high school. It was a tough decision. However, my shins healed, and I’ve never really felt that pain again.

Until last week. I mentioned that on Wednesday, I had the worst run of my life. Part of what made it so was my having to stop approximately every half mile. It wasn’t because I was out of breath or anything like that, it was because my shins were screaming at me. The pain was awful, and, honestly, I probably shouldn’t have finished the run. I should have gone home. But I didn’t - bad Lindsay. I felt a bit better the next day, and went out for my run with my running partner (Hi Suzann!) after my class at the gym. My shins felt OK, much better than the day before, but still not great. That night, in the shower, I found myself having a serious conversation with myself. I knew that I needed a break. I knew that I needed a few days off running, to let my shins recover a little, and I know that I need my rest days.

So I convinced myself that it was OK to quit the #RWRunStreak. It was not easy. I have mentioned before that I have a very, very hard time giving myself a break. I don’t like to quit, and I don’t like to leave things that I’ve started unfinished. However, I do not need to win this.

Here’s why: I started running, and exercising in general, really, because it makes me feel good. I like it. I enjoy myself when I’m doing it, and I enjoy being healthy and fit. There is absolutely no reason that I should be in pain while I do it. If the whole point is for the benefits, and if I am sitting at home icing my shins and wincing every time I go up and down the steps, I’m not getting benefits – I’m injuring myself. For no reason whatsoever. I am no longer on a team. I do not have to win. I can take a break and let my body recover when it needs to. It should not hurt; it should be fun! And so, I didn’t run. On Friday, I went to yoga, which I’d been missing badly. On Saturday morning, I took BodyPump, and it felt good. I skipped the runs both days, I stretched my shins and calves, and I took it a little bit easy. 

On Sunday morning, I headed out for an early-morning run with Suzann, and we ended up doing 9 miles. Nine! We had a great time – it was hot and humid even though we were out by 7:30 AM, and it wasn’t easy, but it was enjoyable time spent with a friend. For me, that’s what running is supposed to be. It isn’t supposed to be pushing myself to do one single painful mile because a hashtag is compelling me to and because I don’t know when to stop. I would so much rather be able to go out for a long, happy run with a friend, than do one painful mile every day for a month.  I want to be able to run races. I want to run the races I'm registered for this year, and I want to complete my first half next year. If I'm going to do those things, I have to take the necessary breaks and rest & recovery days that I need. I realized in the shower on Thursday night that, if I continue with the Run Streak, I probably won’t be able to do my best in the 5K I’m registered for at the end of June, because I will be too worn out and in too much pain. And to me, that just isn’t worth it.

Happy running - aka what it should always be like!

And with that, I gave myself permission to quit. It was a good run (pun intended!) but it’s not for me – I’ll be running on my own schedule, and my own terms, with legs and shins that don’t hurt. I’m unhappy about it, but c’est la vie. Again, my body is talking to me, and I know I need to listen. (The ol’ body is getting pretty bossy, actually – or maybe I’m just becoming a better listener.) I do not have to win this competition. But I’m pretty sure that, in the long run, this is the winning decision. See ya, #RWRunStreak. It was good while it lasted.

On the DL*

Well, friends, it's happened - every fitness enthusiast's biggest fear: I'm on the IR.

On Friday evening, I decided to partake in a nice, relaxing yoga class, as the day had been pretty emotionally draining. The class was hard, but I got through it with no problems. When I got home, though, I noticed that my arm was feeling really tight and sore. As the night wore on, it just got worse - it seems that I've damaged my tricep somehow! I'm not sure if it's pulled or strained or what, but I tell ya - it hurts like hell. It's amazing to me how you never really realize just how much you use a certain muscle until it hurts you to use it - it seems like every single thing I do just makes my arm hurt more! It's now Monday, and I'm still feeling pretty incapacitated. Looks like I'm not going to be able to make it to my weight-lifting class tonight, that's for sure. Boo. Instead, I'll be the one on the couch with the ibuprofen and IcyHot. Joy.

Handicapped. Sad.

Arm injury aside, I did get out for a great run on Saturday morning! My girlfriend, Lizzy, was in town for the weekend (she's finishing up law school in Philadelphia!) and asked if I wanted to go for a run with her. We recruited Caity, too, and headed out together. The girls told me they thought they could do three or four miles pretty easily, but we pushed each other a couple times to just "go a little further," and we ended up doing over five miles! I was really pleased, and I think the girls were, too. We're running a local 5k together next weekend, and this was a great practice run. If we can do five, we can easily do three! I have no problem running by myself, but everything is better with friends. We had a great time running and chatting and laughing together, and I can't wait to do it again next weekend!

*Disabled List... not the down-low! ha.