52 Weeks, 52 Runs. No. 26: (Jet) lagging behind

Apologies for the extended absence. Can someone please invent a time machine? …

I had really been looking forward to writing this post. Last week, I officially hit the halfway point in my 52 Weeks, 52 Runs challenge. Hooray! I figured I would spend the next 300 words excitedly recounting my experiences and proclaiming how far I had come. (Nothing like a little proclaiming between friends.) But instead, on the illustrious occasion of my halfaversary, any excitement I may have had gave way to a feeling that I am Right. Back. Where. I. Started.

Lest you think I am a total drama queen, allow me to explain. I ran the five-mile Squantum 5 on Thursday night. It was very, very hot and there were hills. I was suffering from horrible jet lag, having flown in from Australia a couple of nights before and gone straight back to work. I had done very little exercise the previous two weeks thanks to travel and family obligations. (I squeezed in five miles, but they weren’t quality miles.)

Squantum 5 Road Race

Best start sign ever.

You know what happens when you combine jet lag, heat, hills, and a lack of preparation?

You come fourth last.

As in only three people are slower than you.

As in almost everyone is already on their second beer at the party tent before you’ve even managed to put a toenail across the finish line.

Squantum 5 Road Race

I’m the shadowy figure taking a photo. I thought I’d have no trouble keeping up with the woman in front with the knee brace, who looked to be pretty hobbled as she started running. But nooooo.

It was tough for me to get my head around this turn of events. I’m not fast by any means, but I’m usually somewhere about three-quarters into the pack; I have even been known to be in the middle on a good day.

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A woman walks into a barre… Adventures in adult ballet

Like many girls, I took dancing from a very early age. I experienced the gamut of beginners ballet, from dressing up in a bunny outfit and hopping around the stage to donning a tutu (handmade by my amazing mum) and taking graded exams. I didn’t suck.

Ballet

Mum-made tutu!

When I was about nine, my teacher handed me a book and told me to learn it. Inside was a collection of terms like battement tendu and port de bras. I took one look at it and decided to hang up my ballet shoes. I wanted to dance, not learn bloody French. (Thinking back, it may have not been the wisest decision. But I was nine, what the heck did I know?)

Many, many, many years later, I started to wonder what it would be like to take lessons again. I figured it would be an amazing strength workout. And I’d kill to have the poise – and legs – of a dancer.

You call this beginners?

My first foray back into ballet was a disaster. Arriving at an alleged “beginners” class, I found a bevy of skinny young things limbering up in pink ballet skirts and cardigans, their hair expertly bunned, their feet perfectly turned out. Beginners in what universe? It was humiliating – and I couldn’t walk properly for a week.

Eighteen months later, having finally gotten over the trauma, and because I am a masochist, I decided to give ballet another shot. I recently started a 10-week adult course in Harvard Square. I thought it would nicely complement my run training.

There are few endeavors in life in which staring at yourself for two hours in a giant mirror is not only perfectly acceptable but encouraged. And there’s nothing like staring at yourself in a giant mirror for two hours to make you realize you now totally and utterly suck.

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High society: The Mt. Washington Road Race

I have a guest blogger this week while I am in Australia! My hubby and partner-in-running-adventures did the Mt. Washington Road Race last weekend. That’s UPHILL for 7.6 miles. Gives me asthma just thinking about it. Here’s his take … 

Heading into this past weekend, in the tradition of Stride and Joy, I had The Fear. Actually, a double dose of The Fear.

The first dose came from having to be the guest blogger. How could I live up to the exacting standards of Stride and Joy? I wanted to take flight. The second dose came from having to run “Only One Hill.” That’s the catchphrase of the Mt. Washington Road Race. I wanted to take flight again. Preferably aboard a small helicopter. That’s a saner way to the top.

Well, in the true character of this blog, there was to be no running away … but there would be cursing.

Mt. Washington Road Race

This sign should say you may also not appreciate this “running experience.”

This was the 52nd running of the Mt. Washington Road Race. I “won” the right to run via a lottery that opened in March. It seemed so easy: enter your details, input the credit card info (no charge unless you won) and click submit. No sweat. Then I received a “congratulations” email. Oh crap. What did I do?!!

Inclined to train

So, how to train? I live at sea level and my nearest hill takes a mere 30 seconds to get to the top. Move to Colorado! Tempting indeed, for that’s where the top finishers of this race hail from. They’ve got the altitude and attitude on their side. They don’t hold the course record though; that honor belongs to a Kiwi. There are lots of hills in New Zealand, but I like to think that some of his training involved running away from the Orcs from the Lord of the Rings movies. Or the walking trees. They are scary. An argument for clear felling forests if ever there was one.

Well, without a quick way to move to Colorado and in the absence of a build-your-own Orc kit, it was off to the treadmill to train.

The incline of the auto road is between 12 and 20 degrees. That fierce sounding 20 is only at the last part … you know, to the finish line, because the rest of the “hill” just wasn’t enough.

So on the treadmill, I cranked the incline up to 12 and pressed start … crikey … this was going to involve some change of pace. But at least now I knew: slow and steady would finish the race.

Rise and shine

Mt. Washington Road Race

On the up and up.

Race day arrived, and what a morning it was. One of the volunteers said he had never seen weather so good. All week, I had been watching the conditions. A few weeks before, it had snowed. A few days earlier, there were 60mph winds. Today, though, it was clear from top to bottom. I hoped it would last.

In order to “run” up the mountain, you had to have organized a ride down in advance. This was facilitated via a forum on the Mt. Washington Road Race website. After picking up my bib, I met Roy, the guy whose car I would ride my weary bones down in. Roy is a veteran of this peak. He’s also 73 years old and has done the run twice. There was also a bloke who was 92. Now if they could do it, I had no excuse but to head to the start line.

Mt. Washington Road Race

That’s not a hill … THAT’s a hill!

The canon fired and we were off. In taunting fashion, the race started downhill, across a flat bit and then began to climb and climb and f**kin’ climb. I told you there would be cursing.

A woman I had spoken to prior to the race, also a veteran of the mountain, told me to just keep running, and I tried my best to do that. I made it over half way, in fact I even ran in place at a water stop just to keep the rhythm, but then looking at my pace I realized on certain steep areas, I could do just as well power walking and so over the last half, it was a run/walk. More of the former, I am proud to say.

As for the running part, it was easier to run on my toes, and here’s where my new Newton Running shoes worked their miracle. They have series of “energy return” ribs that create a block just to the front of the arch of the foot. This block made it so much easier to run the peak as I never had to land flat on my feet and it helped me spring off every time. Newtons, of course, come from Colorado. I am seeing a pattern here.

Mt. Washington Road Race

The clouds roll in at the finish.

The best part of finishing the race, apart from not having to run up hill any more, was the blankets. Fleece blankets. Made in New Hampshire! None of that space blanket malarkey for us “mountain folk.” They came in handy too, as shortly after the finish, the clouds rolled in and it cooled.

As for the time to complete the 7.6-mile course, someone had posted on the forum that it would be around your half-marathon time and that’s exactly what it was.

Would I do it again? Hell yes! Next time though, I will be running all the way to the top … powered by anything that Colorado will offer. Coors beer maybe.

Mt. Washington Road RaceThe event: Mt. Washington Road Race
The location:
Mt. Washington, NH
The date: June 16, 2012
Hubby’s time: 1.41.16 (pace: 13.20)
The T-shirt: Blue tech shirt
The aftermath: Turkey dinner with all the fixins

52 Weeks, 52 Runs. No. 25: Too hot by half

One very overdue post. Better late than never, eh?

Endurance, you are dead to me. You abandon me right when I need you, like when it’s 82 degrees and I’m running up a hill and it feels as though my head is about to pop off.

This pretty much sums up the run I did the weekend before last (before I had to unexpectedly return to Australia), the Halfway 5K, in Canton, MA – No. 25 in my 52 Weeks, 52 Runs challenge. (And yes, I’m disappointed that we didn’t time this one to fall at No. 26, halfway into the challenge. That would have been clever, no?)

It was a splendid day for a 5K. Maybe a little too splendid. (When someone says “it’s a perfect day for a run,” I die a little inside. These perfect days usually mean cloud-less skies, piercing sun, and soaring temperatures. Which for me means one thing: sweaty beet-face.)

Halfway 5K

A gorgeous day for it.

Notwithstanding my ridiculous intolerance to heat, I was thrilled that the organizers of the Halfway had won the weather lottery, as it no doubt helped them attract about 1,200 runners to their cause: Cops for Kids With Cancer, which is a wonderful organization that sports a truly awesome logo.

The turnout was all the more impressive given that this was an inaugural run. We turned up expecting your typical smallish neighborhood event – with a Vita Coco stand, perhaps (there is always a Vita Coco stand) – but this was nothing of the sort. There were freshly grilled turkey tips! And offerings of Sam Adams beer! And cups of free coffee! And frozen yogurt popsicles! And can you tell I love this kind of stuff?!

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I see wheezing in my future: Training update #1

My apologies for the blog-silence this week. I had to jump on a plane back to Australia for family reasons, which has thrown everything off. I’d like to think I’m going to do some half-marathon training while I am here, but seeing as I am in the early throes of jet-lag hell, I don’t know how that’s going to go.

But I did manage to do a decent amount of activity the week before last, so I’ll just pretend for the moment that I’m (kind of, sort of, who am I kidding) on track for the Lululemon SeaWheeze Half. I’ll post about last weekend’s 5K tomorrow. I promise.

Tackle box training update (June 4-11):

Monday: Power yoga Two-hour ballet class.
Tuesday:
Tempo Run: 1 mile warm up/ 2 miles tempo/ 1 mile cool down
Nothing. Oh wait, I guess the technical term is “rest.”
Wednesday
: Rest or flow yoga Nothing. So tired from yesterday’s rest that I needed more.
Thursday:
Easy run 2.5 miles Strength and stride class at the YMCA. Nothing easy about it.
Friday:
Rest.
Saturday:
Long run 5 miles Rest.
Sunday: 
Yin yoga or optional run Halfway 5K in Canton, MA (great fun), plus 6 x 60-second hill intervals (torture).
Monday: Tempo Run: 1 mile warm up/ 2 miles tempo/ 1 mile cool down 2.5-mile run plus 2-mile jog/walk.

As you can see, the schedule has already been tossed out the window. But my goal is to focus on the cumulative effort. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.