Down, But Not Out

Since my event is only a month away, I went and talked to my Coach yesterday morning about my options. He got a good laugh at the ridiculously bulky ankle brace I've been wearing. He thought maybe adding Nike swooshes to the sides would up it's cool factor -- I think it would have been neat to at least have a few color options. I just wish it fit into my shoes like the box said it would!

Anyway, we sat and talked for awhile about where to go from here. Coach is extremely doubtful that it'll be strong enough for the full marathon. I was afraid of that, but hearing those words was like a punch to the gut. I've worked soo hard over the last four months, but all I kept thinking was that if I had just worked a little bit harder or cross-trained like I was supposed to I wouldn't be in this situation at all. While everyone's gearing up for a practice run at Cowtown next weekend, I'll be sitting at home once again wishing that my cankles were up to the challenge.

But Coach is right -- assuming my ankle continues to heal, I'll be able to run the 1/2 stronger, with less risk of re-injuring or even making it worse. There's just not enough time to pick up with training for the full. Unless I switch to the summer TEAM, which is another option.

And it's an option I go back and forth about. Sure, I could switch TEAMs so I can race the full. But then I don't get to cross the finish line and celebrate with the TEAM I've been sweating with for the last four months. The TEAM that I've grown with, and have turned into a runner with.

Before I started training, I was a couch potato with the occasional urge to do something aerobic. I wasn't overweight or completely out of shape, but I had no real desire to get up early or to do anything too competitive or athletic. Especially if it was freezing cold outside. To my first run I think I wore sweat pants, an old worn pair of Nikes, two cotton t-shirts and a hoodie. No breathable fabrics, no gloves, no watch, no breakfast, no water. Running just one mile made my heart want to leap from my chest and my legs turn to butter.

But now? I enjoy going for runs. I have cool new sneaks and running gear. I would never wear straight cotton, especially on long runs, or leave the house on chilly mornings without my gloves. I eat better, drink tons of water, and just feel better after going for a jog. I get ancy just thinking about it. For me, it's still not about how fast I'm going -- I enjoy soaking up nature and listening to some tunes.

But I know I've gotten a lot faster. And Coach has noticed the improvements too -- how I've learned to push myself just a little more each time, how I now run with my shoulders back and my eyes looking ahead (rather than hunched over and staring at my feet like before).

Yesterday, it was hard for me to think about making the switch to the half -- I'm an "all or nothing" type of person. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it's the best way to go and still finish with my TEAM. It's not about my run or how far I went, it's about the amazing experience I've had with TNT, and the thousands of dollars we've been able to raise to benefit cancer patients and their families.

I still feel a bit like I'm disappointing my donors. But, regardless of whether I cross the finish line after 13.1 miles or 26.2, I will cross it -- and the money will go to help find a cure. And, at the end of the day, isn't that what this is all about?

A Hopping Good Time

You observant folks may have noticed that the mileage on my mileage calculator has been stuck at zero for a week. Yep, it's the truth. After my not-so-great run last Saturday, I took it easy last week in hopes of calming my aching knee. I also inadvertently missed our TEAM run on Saturday due to a dear friend's mid-morning baby shower.

I traded my run this past Monday for an hour of Pilates. The deep stretch felt wonderful, and three days later my abs are still sore. Tuesday night I finally laced up my running shoes for our optional TEAM run. We met in our usual spot and did about a mile warm up to the base of a nearby hill. Our Coach placed a glove on the sidewalk about 40 feet out. Our mission? Bound or hop to the glove, jog back, then run up the hill and back, then repeat ... and repeat ... and repeat ... and repeat ...

It didn't take long before my legs began to feel like mashed potatoes. Bounds turned to bunny hops as my right knee creaked and popped. Under the soft glow of the street lamps, I silently cursed my legs for not being stronger, my lungs for not filling faster. I was at the back of the pack when a fellow TEAM member shouted a sympathetic "Good job!" as she ran past me smiling, ponytail bobbing with each graceful step.

I tasted the tears before I felt them on my cheeks. Oh my God, seriously? I didn't feel like I was crying, yet there they were. I guess it was my body's way of pushing through the frustration. Luckily, it was dark outside. Come on, in twenty minutes you can drink away your pain ... just go! And I made it. Somehow, my knee held up long enough to make it to Delaney's. Sadly, I was in no mood for anything except water, though I did try to consume an order of cheese fries the size of my face.

I made it home before the pain in my knee really kicked in, along with a side cramp that had me curled up on the couch. I stopped whining, though, after watching The Biggest Loser. It's not that I'm not having a great time or that I feel like I completely suck. In fact, I'm putting in better runs and more miles than I have ever done. I just wish I was better. Wish I was faster. Wish I could keep up with the seasoned runners. I think I'm the only "rookie" on our team doing the full marathon, and I'm definitely the only tortoise. What's that saying? Slow and steady ... is the last to finish? Something like that.

I did do a quick sprint around the neighborhood yesterday when I got home from work, and was glad to not feel any pain in my knee. Perhaps it's finally coming around to this whole running thing.