Oh crap. This always happens. I sign up for a big race months ahead of time and then go about my training and in my mind the race remains a speck in the future, getting nearer, but never actually arriving. Oh yeah, I’d think often, that ultra marathon I signed up for, it’s in July sometime. I said that for months: Oh yeah, that ultra marathon. It’s coming up sometime in July. And look at that. Here we are. It’s July and I’m one week away from running the Siskiyou Out and Back 50k.

HOLY SHOTBLOCKS, readers! It’s time to begin pre-race panicking. Just look at the facts:

#1 The course description reads like this:  The courses meander along the Pacific Crest Trail with breathtaking views of Mt. Shasta, Mt. McLoughlin , and the Siskiyou and Cascade mountain ranges. The total course elevation gain for the 50K is approximately 4,200 ft.

Please note how casually they throw around the idea of 4,200 feet of elevation gain.

#2: It’s 50k! That’s long no matter how you cut it.

#3. There are fewer than 200 runners

#4. The course starts at a ski lodge at 6,500 feet.  Meaning not only will it be steep, but I’ll be starting at a much higher elevation than usual and I’ll have less oxygen to help me get up the 4,200 feet of elevation gain.

So of course I’m nervous. Really nervous. I’m trying to remain relaxed and realize that I’ve trained hard. I’m trying to remember that it’s about the experience. I’m trying to remember that when I signed up for the race I said “ohh, that sounds like fun.”

Ask me next Saturday at Mile 22 if I’m still having fun.

Dear Phil, (My Garmin Forerunner 405),

Did you know, Phil, that we’ve been together for more than a year? I remember the first day I saw you. So strapping. So strong. So smart. It seemed like a perfect match. But in the past year we’ve had our ups and our downs. Sometimes you’d quit on me during a run. Sometimes you’d fail to communicate. It was frustrating. So I need to tell you something, Phil. Something big:

Phil, I’ve been seeing someone else.

His name is James (James Dean, actually). And he is. . .well, I just have to say it: He’s hot. He’s fast. And he’s strong.

Meet James Dean: The Cannondale CADD9 Frame

What I’m saying Phil, is that our relationship will no longer be exclusive (to running). You’ll need to adapt and change modes. Will you stick with me? It seems like a yes so far. During our first ride together (all three of us, James, you and me – kind of awkward, I know!) you  were on target, happily beeping away at every mile. You were so accurate. So timely. So interested in what James was doing.

You know, Phil, now that I think about it.  Maybe you actually prefer James the Road Bike? I can see why you’d be attracted to him. He’s sophisticated and precise just like you.  During our ride on Friday it seemed like you were more accurate on distance and speed.  Is it easier to triangulate on open, mostly straight roads? It certainly must be easier than trying to track me through dense forests and up switchbacks.  Maybe you just find James just as hot and awesome to work with as I do. It’s possible.

So Phil, go out with James. Have fun beeping the mile splits as we ride along, but don’t forget – We’re runners first.

Current Shoe Rotation

You know you’re a runner when your running shoes take up a significant portion of your closet space…

For Most Road Runs: Mizuno Elixirs

For Other Road Runs and Dry Easy Trails: Saucony Pro Grid Tangents (2 pairs)

For Track Workouts: Saucony Fastwitch

For Nasty Badass Trails: Adidas AdiZero XT

So here is how it went down. Friday evening I was wrapping up my first week at the office and was totally pooped. I wanted nothing more than to crawl home and sleep my way through the weekend. However, it’s clear that I do not excel in lazying around my apartment for extended periods of time so when one of  my running friends called me up and reminded me that there was a 1/2 marathon I should consider, I was already halfway convinced that it was a good idea. Then he reminded me of the following salient points:

#1: It was free, as in absolutely no entry fee

#2: It started at a brewery

#3: It finished at a brewery

#4: And I wouldn’t even have to drive

Well, with that kind of a setup, how could I say no?  So this morning I woke up bright and early, put on some dirty running clothes and ran the White Salmon Half Marathon, A.K.A The Free 1/2 Marathon, A.K.A The Summer Solstice Brewery Trail Half, A.K.A That One Race in the Gorge, You Know, The Free One.

Prerace: I figured this would be excellent training for a ridiculous trail race I’ll be running in just a few weeks (holy crap, I can’t believe it’s that soon). My carpool buddy and I arrived at the scene about 20 minutes before the start to find runner-looking types milling around. I jumped out, beelined to the restroom, grabbed a cup of coffee that was available to the runners and got myself race ready. Shoes. Bodyglide. Hat. Check. Check. Check. I strapped on Phil (Garmin 405) and wandered back to the runners.

Even as a free event, there wasn’t much of a crowd. I think maybe 60 runners tops.  The race director, who couldn’t have been more pleasant, lead the way to a squiggly chalk line on the road that spelled”Start!” We lined up. He said the course would be well-marked. I wondered aloud what the course was like and someone responded, “Steep!” Well, OK, I thought, let’s see what steep looks like. And that was about all the information I got.

Start of the White Salmon 1/2 Marathon: photo by Bob Lynes

Race: Then we were off! From the get go I could see this race was going to be dominated by a core pack of strong women. We started conservatively and I spent the first couple of miles chatting with Mandy from my trail running group. She is a fierce and fit runner.  We hit the singletrack that rolled for a bit before climbing a series of steep switchbacks. I passed the lead woman about that point and she hooked on to the back of the front group. There was one guy up ahead and that was it. We really were a strong group of women out there! I was impressed!

The three of us powered up the inclines. I tripped and fell hard. Mandy jumped ahead and put on the gas. I followed close behind. Within another mile, Mandy had dropped me and I had  put a significant gap between myself and the third place girl. The inclines were steep and difficult, but I felt strong. I later heard there was about 22oo feet of elevation climbing and that was mostly accomplished in the first half. I would believe it. There were some steep hills to climb! But it was worth it.This was one of the most stunning trails I have ever run. Just check it out:

Beautiful Single Track - Photo by Bob Lynes

In the last half mile I took a wrong turn and lost about 2 or 3 minutes of time. I had to backtrack up a hill but I was able to finish strong and quick and ended up placing third overall (!!!) and second in womens. In fact, women took 5 of the top 7 spots in the race. Way to go, girls!!!

Results:

Time: 1:54:55

Third Place Overall

Second Place Woman

Yesterday was my first day at my new (dream) job. It was fantastic, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was the new kid in school. During lunch I chatted about office workflow, schedules and upcoming projects with another producer. In the conversation she mentioned that the studio director and she were both impressed with my ultra running and that was part of what convinced them to bring me in for an interview (yes, running is on my resume). So while I was definitely qualified and am a great match for this job, I have running to thank for getting me in the door.

Obligatory Running Notes:

Ran 79 miles last week and feel great

Participated in a clothing optional 5k dash/streak. Finished second overall (first place female) and confirmed  that while clothing won’t make you faster it certainly provides dignity

Completed track workout that consisted of 16×400 repeats with 20-30 seconds rest in between. I highly recommend this workout. It’s fantastic.

]]> http://heatherdaniel.org/2009/06/16/new-work-funny-comment/feed/ 6 heatherdaniel http://heatherdaniel.org/2009/06/10/long-run-bonk/ http://heatherdaniel.org/2009/06/10/long-run-bonk/#comments Wed, 10 Jun 2009 19:11:04 +0000 heatherdaniel http://heatherdaniel.org/?p=849 ]]>

I am currently wrapping up a quick visit to Sacramento to spend time with my family.  I arrived Friday evening and have been eating and drinking non-stop.  My dad grilled steak. My older brother made blue cheese burgers and grilled zucchini that made my taste buds weep with joy.  And my mom knows that I cannot say no to frosting and has tempted me with all manner of baked goodies.

Basically it’s been one big feast of food since I arrived. I can only hope that all my running is helping to balance it out.

Right now I am preparing for a beast of a trail race (more on that later) and I’ve been mostly sticking to trail work. However, while in Sacramento I decided to do a long run on a local bike trail. My dad worked out a plan for me: from the house, down a long non-descript street and around Natomas Lake would make 20 miles and change. It would be perfect for a long Sunday run. As I drank my coffee Sunday morning I realized I’d  failed to pack my hand held water bottle. No worries I thought. I’d just hit up the water fountains on the bike trail. That ought to be fine. Famous last word, right? It did not turn out to be fine. It turned out to be a mini-disaster.

It began like a normal long run.  I felt little slow and creaky at first, but soon my miles splits were dropping into the sub 8-minute range. 7:20, 7:15, 7:30, 7:33. . .  and they stayed pretty steady, hovering between 7:30-7:40. Perfect. Perky. Unflappable. On the bike trail, I hit three water fountains all within a mile of each other. I took small gulps at each as the sun was climbing higher. I even ate some Luna Moons at the third water fountain before crossing to the opposite side of the lake. Things seemed to be going so well. Miles 6- 10 were textbook. But then something curious happened:

Mile 11. No water fountain to be seen

Mile 12. Still no water fountain

Mile 13: Still no water fountain. It’s been six miles since my last sip of water.  Did I mention it was toasty hot?

Mile 14: I’m still feeling O.K. but I’d dearly love a drink just about now.

Sadly, each mile ticked by and none of them produced a magical water fountain. I couldn’t eat because I didn’t have water. My mile splits were steady but my legs were not as responsive. My mouth was sticky. My skin baked.

Finally the lap around the lake complete, I headed toward the house.  It was only three or so miles to the front door, but first I had to trudge up Heart Attack Hill (so named by my dad because it’s steep and there’s a fire station should you require CPR upon reaching the summit). About half way up my legs just kind of puttered out. I was still moving, but I was no longer running. It would be a stretch to say I was jogging. I had simply run out of fuel. I crested Heart Attack Hill and knew that it was only another 1/2 mile to a gas station. More importantly, I was pretty sure that the gas station had a convenience store. Thank the running gods!

Has there ever been a longer mile? I staggered, salt-crusted, red-faced and nasty, into the air conditioned cool of the mini-mart. I grabbed a Fruit Punch Gatorade and plunked $2 on the counter. Would I like my receipt? I feebly shook my head, I was too busy trying to rip the plastic seal off the bottle. Would I like my four pennies back? No, no I would not. I staggered back into the sunlight where I gulped the Gatorade furiously. I ingested half contents in one fell swoop and had to hold back from drinking the rest. No need to risk a side cramp.

I began to shuffle in the direction of my parents house, concentrating only on survival. I feel like absolute crap. I was SO tired. SO thirsty. SO hot! But after a few more minutes things seemed less dire. The electrolytes kicked in. My sweat production picked up and so did my pace. Gatorade, you were awesome!

Lesson Learned: Don’t forget the hand-held water bottle!

Confession: I have been unemployed for the better part of six weeks now.  I wasn’t sure how I could casually write about joblessness without breaking down in tears or being smooshed under the weight of  self-pity.  To back track,  my position as an Associate Web Producer at a Portland-area ad agency was eliminated along with my paycheck. The layoff was unexpected and it left me terrified.  I sobbed for a few hours, went for a run to clear my head and then biked  back to the office to pick up a few personal belongings.

I never made it back to the office that day. A car collided with my bike only a few blocks from my apartment.  First laid off and then hit by a car. On the same day. As I skidded across the pavement my first thought was, “!@#*&%!, This is the WORST !@#%^! Day EVER!!” It was closely followed by a second very real worry, ” My Legs!”  That I might be both unemployed AND unable to run evoked a true panic.  Let’s be honest. Finding yourself  sans job in this economy in a town with the second highest unemployment rate in the country may be… I don’t know…  a bit of a bummer, but being struck by a car mere days before a major marathon felt a whole lot scarier. Luckily, Stella, my road bike, took the majority of the impact and  I was able to race in the Eugene Marathon (time of 3:07 and fourth place woman) only ten days later. I do not suggest adding car/bike collisions into a pre-race taper program. It’s just not a good plan.

So. for the last six weeks I’ve been diligently, nervously, and apprehensively following every job lead, every whiff of opportunity and running, running, running when I couldn’t stare at my computer screen any longer. It was tough. Very tough.

All of that changed this week. This week was a true roller coaster.

Monday: I had run a intense hill workout with Trail Factor the day before:  about 12 miles of fire lane work that left my legs burning and weak. But I struck out on a 19 mile trail run on Monday for a back-t0-back long workout. I finished the day much as I had started it. Exhausted. Unemployed. Unsure of my future.

Tuesday: I started track practice but suffered a mysterious and sudden hamstring cramp. I was forced to cut the workout short and left to wonder if all the trail hills had left me a bit too tired. I iced my unemployed hamstring that evening and prepped for the following morning’s interview. I was excited about the meeting, but my cranky crampy hamstring cautioned me against getting my hopes up. It was a big deal to even be invited back for a second interview. Similar to a race situation, I calmed my nerves by laying out my clothes and packing my bag the night before. The only difference? I didn’t need Body Glide or a bib number for the interview.

Wednesday: BIG DAY! At the conclusion of the interview that I thought went well, I inquired when I might hear back from them. “Very soon” was the only reply. Oh no. Oh no! Oh no! So not a good sign. I calmed my fears with wine and a friend that night and tried my best not to fret. Between the stress of the interview and fretting about it that afternoon I decided to forgo an afternoon run. My hamstring agreed that it was probably a good idea.

Thursday: Discovered that two glasses of wine is really my limit. I awoke with a thick dry mouth and a foggy head. But there was a message in my inbox inquiring f I could come into the office to discuss next steps. I danced. I clapped my hands. I yelled, “Woohooo!!” at my houseplant. Then I immediately downed a cup of coffee, tied my shoelaces and squeezed in 10 miles. That afternoon’s interview was fabulous and it ended with a job offer. I felt like pumping my fist up in the air and screaming. It felt like I had won the lottery. This isn’t just a job. This is the job I truly want! I celebrated with at home by watching Hulu in pajama pants

Friday: I woke up in the middle of the night and pulled out the offer again just to make sure I hadn’t hallucinated it all. I woke again so I could meet up with the 650 club (named such because we meet at 6:50 in the morning) to run about six miles of trails. I tacked on another three or four to round it out. I dropped off the signed offer, met the rest of the team  at the office, and flew to Sacramento that evening.

Saturday: Today. On vacation and totally not stressed. Running in my hometown always feels a little strange. The roads seem deserted in comparison to the busy Portland streets and the air seems drier. I ran six miles this morning and another five in the afternoon.

Summary: 68.7 miles running this week

Details about the job: I couldn’t be more excited. I will be an Associate Producer for an ambitious Interactive Design Studio. They specialize in interactive displays and physical installations for museums. Their work is compelling, interesting and fits my personality. Who would have thought that what seemed like such a terrible string of bad luck would turn into such a great opportunity. I can’t wait to get started.

Compression Socks at my Local running store: $35-$60

Homemade Compression Socks: $0

Happy Legs: Priceless

How to Make Your Own Compression Socks (for free!)

DIY Compression Socks: For the Serious(ly Nerdy) Runner

Step 1: Run yourself to exhaustion. I found that running 13 miles of hills on Sunday and 19 miles this morning to be superbly effective

Step 2: Find a pair of tight arm warmers and put them on your legs. I find that my Pearl Izumi nylon pair work great

Step 3: Find an old pair of nylon dress socks and cut the toes off

Step 4: Slip the dress socks over the arm warmers. I doubled mine up around the calves

Step 5: Admire your thrifty creativeness with a glass of water and a blog post

Compression Sock = A cooler version of a diabetic walking sock

Just a quick review of last week

Monday: Memorial Day Recovery Run that morphed into a 8-mile tempo at a 7 min/mile pace!

Tuesday: Track Workout: started with a 2.5 mile warmup. 4×400, 4×300, 6×200 all with full recoveries and a 2.5 mile cool down, made for about 10 miles. As a side note, this time last year I was running about a 92 or 93 second 400. On Tuesday I ran four 400’s at a very consistent 84 second pace. Just two days after a 20k trail race. I was most proud that none of the repeats varied by more than a second. I was able to maintain a great, do-able pace for the entire workout. Now that’s progress. Or so I like to think.

Wednesday: A  great track practice deserves to be celebrated, no?  And what better way to celebrate than with beer and friends.  I am not usually a beer drinker, but given my current economic situation and the $1 PBR special I opted for a gluten-filled pint.  Beers were consumed at a steady rate. In fact my beer drinking was almost as impressive as my track performance earlier in the evening. Maybe I’m becoming a fast runner and a fast drinker?  I awoke Wednesday morning hating life.  I trooped through a 10-mile run and vowed never to be had by $1 PBR specials again. Ugh. $1PBR, you are so not worth it.

Thursday: Eight miles in the morning with my awesome running partner followed by a big cup of coffee. I added another  3.4 miles in the afternoon. The second run was a complete wash. I had originally planned a 5-mile hill climb, but whether the race on Sunday finally caught up to me, or the beer wasn’t finished doing its dirty work, I cut the run short (something I don’t do at all) and staggered back to my apartment.

Friday: I met up with trail runners at 6:50 AM for a quick run in the forest. It was the first time the group has met up during the week and I was happy and surprised to see five other runners. But I should specificy that they were five men. Five very very fast men. I contented myself to let them go and get in 6.2 miles (10k) before breakfast. I ran another four miles that evening

Saturday: By Saturday I was feeling exhausted. Totally and completely exhausted. I woke up early and got in 5 miles. I spent the rest of the day drinking water and massaging my legs.

= 65.4 miles

This wasn’t the biggest training week for me, volume-wise, but it was a challenge. I recently “invested” in a very used fixed-gear bike to get around town. For those of you unfamiliar with bikes, a fixed gear basically means you have only one gear and you don’t get to back pedal. My fixed gear happens to be a monster of a bike and riding up the Broadway Bridge with that thing feels like gigantic victory. Between the miles I put on the bike and the miles on the trails, I was one tired cookie at the end of the week.

Total miles for May: 256.9

Oh dear. I’ve been meaning to write something meaningful in the last couple of days, but the words just wouldn’t come. So here it is; Saturday afternoon and I’m finally ready to get down to the business of running, or more specifically, writing about running.

Last Sunday’s trail race had left me understandably tired. But it was Sunday night’s lemon chiffon cake with extra frosting and some gluten-free beer and the white wine with my parents that really did me in. Delicious. But in all seriousness, Lemon Chiffon Cake with Extra Frosting, you are so dangerous! My goal for Monday was to flush out my legs with a conservative recovery run. No need to get all fancy, right? Just get the miles in a be done. My legs, however, had different plans.  After a warm-up mile my quads told me to pick up the pace. Perhaps my quads run better on lemon cake? Maybe my glutes appreciated the gluten-free beer?  I cannot guess, but the recovery run,  slated to be a three-mile shuffle,  turned into a  quick eight-miler at a sub seven pace. Not too shabby, right?

So, I  there I was, rolling down the riverfront, fueled on lemon frosting fumes, when I spotted another fast runner a few hundred meters ahead. He was fast. Not impossibly fast, but, you know, quick and runner-ly  I studied him for a second and then…  CLICK! My brain switched gears. The easy-run mode turned off and I was thrown into competitive-I-think-I-can-pass-this guy gear. (please tell me you do this too!)  My shoulders straightened. My arms began to drive a little harder and my stride picked up accordingly. “I so have this guy,” I thought.

Then I did a double take.

I knew this guy. He looked very similar to one of the guys who works at the running store.  As a quick aside I would like to add that I do not know ALL the runners in Portland. Nor am I acquainted with ALL the Portland running store employees. . .  maybe just an important few.  Anyway, I backed off a hair, and contemplated whether it was silly to try and pass the nice running store guy. The Competitive Heather in me threw that thought aside as ridiculous and urged my quads to quit dilly-dallying. So I ran to catch him.

Just as I was closing in on his shoulder, Runner Store Stan peeled off to the left and off the path.  I wanted to shout: Come back! I was just about to catch you!

The Competitve Heather  inside me frowned. She really wanted to pass him, poor girl.

I continued my run and reflected on how quickly that competitive attitude surfaced. I wouldn’t describe myself as such, but I recognize my stubbornly competitive traits: If there is a runner in front that I can probably pass, I’ll do it. If there’s a runner behind me that threatens to pass, I’ll speed up. During track practice, I try my hardest to stay with the fast group. Whatever the siutation,  there is something inside me that feels obligated to prove that I’m not just out jogging. There is something that wants to show just how fast I can go. That competitive something doesn’t care that was Memorial Day, that I had raced the day before and that not everyone needs to prove themselves on EVERY run.

Team Trail Factor (awesome jerseys)

Wow. What a great day for a race! The sky was blue, the single track dry, and the competition fierce.

Distance: 20k (12.2 miles)

Time: 1:32:10 – average 7:32 minutes/mile

Place: Second place woman, eighth overall

Details: This past week my legs have felt fatigued and I was worried whether I’d bonk during the race. It was a disconcerting thought. As an added pressure, I was slated to race with my teammates from Trail Factor (the group of notoriously fast and badass trail runners).  It’s one thing to bonk anonymously, and it quite another thing to bonk in front of your friends. My first goal was to not embarrass myself and run respectably. My second goal, assuming I didn’t crash and burn, was to use the race as a training tool. I have some big off-road races coming up this summer and I figured that this will be a good warm up for speedy trail races and uphill climbing.

Race: The course was an out and back on a beautiful winding single track.  With about 950 of elevation gain in the first half, it was a challenging race, but not impossible. The 20k’ers and 50k’ers started at the same time. There were quite a few Trail Factor members in both and our team was looking to do well. Ruben aimed to defend his title in the 50k (he won it last year) while Mallory and I were looking to secure top spots in the 20k. Looking around at the field of runners it seemed like there could be some stiff competition.

Out Portion of the Race: The start gun sounded and a few hundred trail runners took off.  Mallory is an awesome hill runner (actually, she is just an awesome runner, period) and she hopped up the inclines like it was nothing. I brought up the rear of the lead pack and within only a few miles the runners had winnowed significantly.  Ruben was already out of sight. Mallory was ahead of me by a few hundred meters, and there was no one behind me. The single track rolled and I felt better than I had all week. I prayed that the feeling would stay with me. The miles rolled by and we went up and up and up. Did the course desciption say it was only 950 feet of climbing, because it felt like so much more.

Back Portion of the Race: Just before the turn around, there is a steep, short section of trail to hammer up. It wasn’t long, but it sure was steep! I ran up, grabbed a cup of water from the aid station at the top. Another Trail Factor team member was volunteering at the aid station. “Alright, Heather, now you gotta go chase her!” I gave a thumbs up and powered back down. The trail on the way back was significantly more difficult. There were many runners to dodge on the single track as they made their way up and I made my way back. Many of them shouted “Whoa, looking good Trail Factor!” “Way to go, looking strong.”In races where there aren’t many spectators, I love hearing this kind of support from other runners. I soon passed Julie, another TF girl who yelled “Woo woo Trail Factor!!”  While our group may not be big, we are certainly an enthusiastic crowd. I kept running and kept hearing great comments from other runners. It felt great to be racing on the trails and the conditions were fast and perfect.

Summary: I would have liked to caught up with Mallory, but it wasn’t in the cards. I raced hard and finished in a great time. Mallory took first and set a new course record. I came in three minutes behind her and my time also beat the previous course record by over two minutes. Huzzah! I’ll take it! I can’t believe it was only a year ago that I ran my first trail race. It seemed impossibly difficult at the time and not something that I’d ever be good at. Now I am running with some great trail runners and doing a pretty good job in the races!

A few hours later, after many of the other participants had packed up and gone home, I rang a cowbell as TF Ruben came floating in to clench first place in the 50k. What, you might ask, do you get for running 31 miles faster than anyone else in that race? You get a coffee mug… and a matching coaster.

Geez, I should have done the 50k. All I got was a t-shirt!

50 k gentlemen

Today I contracted a bad case of Slow-itis. I didn’t even see it coming. You KNOW what I’m talking about, right? Just when you think you’ve got this running thing down, you’ll  go out for a run and it is just SLOW. So slow. And you can’t figure out why, on that day, your body decides to reject your past training and manages to stay in putt-putt mode for the entire workout.

Please, tell me I’m not the only one to fall victim to Unplaned Slow-itis.

Situation: I woke up this morning with cramps in my hamstrings. YEEEOUUUCH!!! I’m no stranger to the muscular seizures that can invade feet and calves,  but I rarely experience hamstring cramps of such intensity.  I stuck my legs up and vigorously pointed and flexed my foot, rubbed my legs and said nasty things until the pain stopped. It is not the ideal way to start the day.

After stumbling around my apartment and peeking out the window, I decided to delay the morning’s run.  My legs felt distinctly heavy and a little swollen (result of this weekend’s trail running perhaps?). I hoped some coffee would help.

Finally, when  I couldn’t procrastinate a moment longer, I laced up, left the apartment and crossed the street. Somehow crossing the street mentally commits me to the run. I started Phil and began running. Within the first block I knew it. I could feel it. I felt slow. Horribly, horrendously, awfully SLOW.  Today, for whatever reason, my legs decided that they only had one speed. Efforts to convince, cajole, bribe or threaten them to run faster would be futile. I had contracted a case of slow-itis.

I sighed and wondered why one day we can feel like running superstars and on other days we can feel like our legs are filled with putty and are incapable of more than a shuffle. Why is that? And why can’t we anticipate it better?

I had a few options: I could stop and turn around. I could fight it and see if I would snap out of it, or I could accept my situation and make the best of it.

So, I thought, if I’m going to have a slow day, I’m going to have the best damn slow day ever.

The slow-itis and I made it through 12 miles. I only freaked out a teensy tiny bit when I saw a mile split appear on Phil (Garmin 405) that started with the number 10.  What? No, did it really take me over ten minutes to run that last mile? Granted. I was going up a VERY steep uphill climb in the woods with lots of switchbacks and we all know that Phil isn’t very accurate in switchbacks in Forest Park. But still, STILL (!!) It is hard not to feel inadquete. Instead I just concentrated on what I could do, even while running slow. I reviewed my stride. I thought about efficient way to manage hilly trails. I relaxed my shoulders.

It wasn’t a bad run, but it left a funny taste in my mouth, if that makes sense. It wasn’t satsifying  and it wasn’t easy. It was just annoying. I just hope my case of Slow-itis clears up quickly. I don’t care for it one bit.