Running Music & Great Wall Marathon Swag Bag Contest

Big B on the Road is insane enough to be running a marathon on the Great Wall of China. I've just started reading his blog based on a Twitter tip from Runners Lounge, so I'm just speculating when I say this is his first marathon. Great Wall for your first time sounds both cool and, as I said before, slightly crazy. Though I suppose not so much more crazy than running a marathon, which I also have done and intend to do again.

Anyway. To go along with this, he's looking for some new music for his iPod, and giving some stuff away. Basically, go to his blog and suggest your favourite running song for a chance to win some cool stuff from his marathon. But even if you don't win that great prize, there are (as of this writing) 24 songs you can add to your own running playlist. And who couldn't use some new tunes?

The worst race map ever

I was so confused by the race map that came with my race packet. I walked all over Blackpool the day before the marathon, and felt more equipped to read and understand it, but I still got it wrong. Here's the actual race path I ran - starting from red and ending with purple (ROYGP, with apologies to my first grade teacher). Water stops, as best I can remember them, in blue.

Lemonade

I realised that my race report may have given a rather dejected impression of my race. I'm still working on an objective Blackpool Marathon review, but in the meantime I thought it would be good to reiterate how extraordinarily pleased I am about my marathon.

In some ways, even, the hurdles that Blackpool (or Crappool as Bill has christened it!) threw at me make me even more proud of myself. It would have been great to have cheering throngs spurring me on for 5 hours - and the marathon would be no less of an accomplishment had they been there. But...

One of the reasons I decided to run a marathon was to strengthen my inner resolve. And the stretch of the race where I was running past chip shops and drunken stags and holiday-making families, weaving around them on the pavement, completely alone in the race - at that moment, the only thing moving me forward was that inner resolve.

Another reason I wanted to run a marathon was that I'm a starter, not really a finisher. I get excited about new things, new projects, new hobbies, new obsessions rather easily. But seeing them through to the end - that's something I wish I did better. My training log exemplifies this pattern. But I'd committed myself to this marathon. Everyone I knew, and everyone on the internet, knew I was doing it. I had to get myself to the starting line. And once there, and moving forward, no matter how much I wanted to stop and how loud the refrain in my head saying "you don't have to do this," there was the feeling that I'd be letting down myself and everyone who cheered me to the starting line if I stopped for no reason, so I kept asking myself "why are you going to quit? Just because you're tired? That's no reason. Tired goes away but imagine how good you'll feel at the end." And I kept going until I finished.

Dick Beardsley once said that when you cross the finish line of the marathon, it will change your life forever. I didn't believe it when I was on the pre-crossing side - it's just a race, it isn't as if I'm getting shot at or delivering babies in war-torn countries or even sitting down to lunch with the homeless guys on my block. I believe it now. I'm not about to become one of those "sunshine and butterflies" unrealistically optimistic/annoying people. I'm not going to stop dropping the f-bomb in polite company. I'll probably still have trouble finishing things that I start. But I've proven that I can do something incredibly difficult all on my own, and the next time, when I run a marathon with screaming hordes of cheering fans and 50,000 of my closest friends, and it's still tough, I'll always know that I did it once without those things, and I can dig within myself to improve.

5 ways to make your first marathon better than mine

1. Choose a big-city or beginner-friendly marathon. I explicitly chose a small marathon like Blackpool, because I didn’t want to run my first in London where I’d be shoulder-to-shoulder the whole time, and I stand by that decision. But if I had my first to do over, I’d run one that had more support for the average-to-slow runner. It’s obnoxious to have them open the road before you’re finished, especially because I was honest in my application as to the time I expected to finish in and I think it’s the responsibility of the race organisers to get a permit for at least the length of time the registered runners expect to be on the course. It detracts a bit from the sense of accomplishment when the race team looks like they’d rather be washing their cats than waiting for a 5+ hour marathoner. I know I’m not elite, but I don’t think my time is anything to be ashamed of.
2. Do not, under any circumstances, lose your Body Glide or other body lubricant of choice the week before the marathon. Enough said.
3. If you’re travelling, bring your own breakfast from home. I suspect this is England-specific, because things close so early here, but really I’d recommend it for everyone – it would have been a huge load off my mind and I think might have resulted in a sub-5-hour finish for me.
4. Bring supporters who love and understand you. I don’t know that I could have done this without Meg. She met me along the course, and gave me bananas, and told me repeatedly how proud she was of me and how great I was doing, even when it was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other. She didn’t take it personally when I snapped at her in my glycogen-depleted state.
5. Expect to have times when you don’t think you can do this. At my lowest, I reminded myself that “it’s just the wall, it’s normal, and you’re going to be ok.” When I could rationalise it like that, it was easier to keep going forward.
   

Race report

Pre-race: Friday night we packed up. I was really antsy. I bought two bags of Percy Pigs for the weekend and taped 5 20p coins to one bag for toilet stops along the race course, planning for the second to go in my post-race kit (insert foreshadowing times two here). We took the train from London to Blackpool on Saturday. Once we arrived, we dropped our things at the Warwick Holiday Flats. Honestly, I could have chosen better for a place to stay, but when I was making my selection I was looking for a place my sister’s boyfriend could join us at and a place our dog could go as well. Plus, I didn’t want to spend a ton of money. Neither my sister’s boyfriend or the dog came along, and I think it would have been a good investment to spend a little more money to have a place with a bed that, to quote Meg, didn’t have a bed that “felt like £34/night.” But it was clean, and convenient, and what more can a girl ask for?

Next we went for a walk in search of the race expo. As you should all know by now, my sense of direction leaves a little something to be desired. I was completely convinced that the race headquarters was south of our home for the weekend. We walked a good part of the promenade, and asked a couple of people where the Hilton hotel was. The first people we asked were the little old ladies volunteering at the lifeboat museum. They didn’t really understand my American accent, or weren’t sure where the Hilton was, or something, so they vaguely pointed north but I didn’t really believe them. We started walking north, though, and then asked one of the horse & carriage drivers. He also said north, and said, walk, and then walk some more, and then walk some more, and you can’t miss it. I think he was angling for a fare to the hotel, but whatever – I’m about to run a marathon – how far can it be? Anyway we walked north about a mile, and lo and behold, there it was!

Race expo: a little disappointing. It was maybe an hour before closing, and they seemed pretty ready to pack up. One set of tables, with things for sale in plastic tubs and no one staffing it. One lady handing out bags for your kit. A couple people offering pre-race massages for a donation. A few more stuffing race bags. The end. I get my kit bag, and we leave. I was glad we found the hotel/race start/finish, but otherwise a totally miss-able experience. Dinner at Tiramisu on the recommendation of both the internet and our hotel proprietor – delicious. I suspect this is the nicest restaurant in Blackpool, a town which is home of fried fried. We then attempted to buy something resembling healthy for breakfast. All the big stores were closed, and the off-licenses specialised in beer, cigarettes, and lotto tickets – if you’re lucky you can get some crisps. Home again – having walked a good portion of Blackpool, I feel much better equipped to analyse the race map and try to understand it but we’re still confused.

Race morning: No breakfast to be found. No grocery stores open – most people here were coming home from the bars as we were getting up at 6:30am. I arrive at the race at 7:30 hoping someone there will be selling something other than Lucozade bars. No dice. I dig the Percy Pigs out of my post-race kit bag and eat them. I drop off my kit bag and Meg asks me how it’s organised – will I have to dig through piles of bags to find mine? I say that by the time I finish I suspect there won’t be that much digging to do. We wander around. The race commentator is talking to or about most of the people who walk by, especially if they’ve got a big contingent of supporters or are wearing shirts that say which charity they’re running for. I have neither. He ignores us. Slightly before 9 it’s time to line up.

Race: I find a couple women who are talking about planning for 12 minute miles and line up near them. There are 1900 people here, around 700 (actualyy 502) for the marathon and the rest for the half marathon. Maybe 5 wheelchair participants between the two events. They set up at the front. The race commentator says the gun will go twice – once for the wheelchair racers and once for the rest of us. I faintly hear the gun go off and assume the wheelchair racers have started. We start shuffling forward. I think that we’re just getting up to the mat for the start. Suddenly people in front of us are jogging and I realise we’re off.

Mile 1 is at a 10:30 pace. Too fast, but it feels comfortable at the time, and I’m staying with my companions and most of the back of the pack. (In retrospect, I’m glad I adopted this strategy – I think I would have quit if I’d been last from the very first mile.) Mile 2 finds my left foot going numb, but I’m determined to run the first 3 miles before breaking into the planned run-walk so I do. Around the 2 mile mark I see Meg before she sees me and I run up and give her a slightly sweaty kiss and she takes a photo of me way too close. At mile 3 I stop to retie my shoe and walk the first minute of the next mile.

For the first 10 miles I’m walking 1 minute out of every mile, eating a Percy Pig during this minute, and doing 11:30 miles or so. Then the lack of breakfast starts to get me. At the halfway point I call Meg, say “I’m at the halfway and fading – can you get me a banana?” I see her at mile 15 or so. She brings me a banana and a big water. I think I snapped at her. Apparently someone behind me commented on what a great support she is. The racers are thinning out, but I’m definitely still in it. I get her to take my phone out of my back pocket because my lower back is really hurting and I don’t want to have anything there that isn’t absolutely necessary.

My iPod has 4+ hours of unique songs on it, plus my book. I’ve listened to OAR’s Old Man Time about 7 times at this point, and several other songs (including more OAR) are in heavy rotation. This is already irritating so I try out the book. That lasts about a half hour before I need the beat again, and put my iPod back on “shuffle” so I can listen to the same 6 songs over and over. (I’m looking at my playlist now, and there are songs on there I KNOW I didn’t hear, and lots that I heard over and over and over.)

The run-walk strategy means I am constantly running past people and then being passed by them, so I see my 12-minute-mile companions quite a bit but in general we don’t run together much. From the crappy pre-race map I knew that this was a two-lap marathon, but I didn’t really realise how disheartening it would be to be lapped.

I make the first turn on the second lap, and the traffic cops drive by saying they’re going to open the road again. I say something unrepeatable in front of a family with 5 kids under 8. I’m sure the parents were less than impressed – sorry. I pass a woman going the other way who is shuffling worse than I am, and I shout to her “Hang in there, we’re going to finish this!” Some crazy drunken stag weekend guys repeat this at me. I ignore them, mostly because I don’t have the energy to give them the finger. The race marshals are encouraging me to run in the road as it’s easier on the feet but the cops are telling me I have to run on the “pavement” (sidewalk). I’m hitting the wall hard, and walking as much as I’m running. Miserable. Wondering why I’m doing this, and if I can do it. There’s no one from the race around – hardly any race officials and I’m just shuffling past the holiday-makers by myself. Lots of people who have already finished are walking back. Some of them cheer me on, most think I’m just jogging off an earlier finish and ignore me.

Mile 19 – I see Meg. I’m walking. She gives me another banana and asks how I’m doing. I say that everything hurts. She says “do you want to keep going?” I snap, “I’m going to finish.” I suspect she could have outwalked me at this point, but I made it pretty clear I didn’t want her to walk with me, taking off at a shuffle until I can’t pick my feet up any more and walk some more. I think I was probably the last racer at this point, and the marshals look bored and I have to ask where to go several times. I finish my (second bag of) Percy Pigs somewhere in here and drop the empty bag – the one that I had taped my toilet money to. This will come back to haunt me around mile 23. My hamstrings and lower back are really cramping up and I have to stop to stretch a couple of times.

I’m off the road and onto the sea wall now, which I know from reading previous years’ race reports is often the toughest part for people because it’s about 3 miles of concrete in each direction. Race officials or cops or Red Cross people or someone keep driving by, checking out my race number – I can only assume this is so they can radio back to the finish line as to how many people are still out there and how much longer they’ll all have to hang out. I think they were saying things to me but I was inside my head and with my headphones on so I would mostly just smile and keep slogging away. Part of me hopes they’ll make me stop and say I’m doing too badly to keep going, because everything hurts and I don’t know how much longer I can do this but I am too tough quit without someone to be angry at about it.

Mile 21 or so I start to rally but I also start to have to pee. I realise I’ve thrown out my toilet-opening coins. I consider ducking behind any number of structures but am afraid to stop moving forward. I consider peeing on the run, but don’t really want to piss myself for a 5+ hour marathon. I catch up with a guy that I think is walking off his already-finished marathon, but somewhere around mile 23 I realise he’s still slogging through it with me. I pass a couple guys who are walking, and fading faster than I am. I haven’t seen shuffling lady for a while. My original race companions see me about to make the second turn of the second lap and give me a shout. I’m getting hungry. I’m walking about half the time and leapfrogging with the guy I thought had already finished.

At mile 25 I start running/jogging/shuffling more than I’m walking again but I’ve lost the guy – he’s still in my sights but when I walked up a hill he got away from me and I know I can’t catch him at this point since we’re on roughly the same pace. At mile 26 I “sprint,” but have started this too soon and have to slow down from 26.05-26.15. I manage to run across the finish line, and Meg is there, cheering her head off for me.

The race officials look bored, but give me a “congratulations” anyway. I get a medal. The guy who cuts your chip off has moved up to just after the finish mat and I’m not really ready to stop moving forward at this point so when he tells me to stand still I almost bowl him over before steadying myself on his shoulders and bracing myself so he can lean down and cut my chip off. The race commentator has gone home – apparently he was there until his buddy finished at 4-½ hours and then he left. I get water and a t-shirt and some Lucozade and a bag full of snacks. Meg tells me that I got the second-to-last medal – apparently they didn’t order enough and they were going to have to give a couple of people 2 half-marathon medals or give them the option to wait 3 months to have more sent to them. She tried to get the officials to give her one, but they wouldn’t because I “can’t get one unless I finish.” Meg tells them they don’t know me, and that I will finish even if I’m crawling across the line. The race officials promise that if it’s close I’ll get one and they’ll make someone else wait. Good thing, because I think I might have killed someone at that point if I didn’t get my medal right then.

We walk back to the race headquarters. I manage to make my way up the stairs to the portable toilets. We go inside and I get my kit bag – I was right, there’s no digging to be done because there are only 3 other kit bags waiting. I’ve lost all shame and change my clothes in public. I put on the shirt from my favourite sushi place and my medal and a pair of pyjama pants and flip-flops. Meg takes pictures. We shuffle back to our hotel where I shower and find every single place on me that’s chafed.

I eat a bunch of snacks and we take the tram down to Pleasure Beach where we ride the tallest and fastest roller coaster in Europe and stop in the casino for a very delicious beer. We try to find someplace decent for dinner but everything is deep-fried grease. Finally we go to a local Italian chain-type place. I finish my pasta and say, I don’t think I want dessert, but Meg says she’s ordering some for me anyway and we order the toffee & brownie sundae for 2 to share and it’s all I can do not to slurp up the melted ice cream out of the bottom of the bowl. A half an hour later we’re trying to watch a movie and I’m asleep by 10.

Photos:



*This race report was heavily edited by Meg, because she has a better memory of what happened when than I do.

I did it!

Still working on the race report (4 pages and counting...feel free to skip that post!) but I did it. Bit of a slog but I finished in 5:26:48.

Lazy Blogging

Elite Feet has given me 10 more reasons to know I can finish the marathon. Bill has agreed to "run" with me, even though he had a fabulous Boston run and is suffering through the post-race shuffle. I'm planning for a 5 to 5.5 hour finish, so I suspect he'll be ok. Oh, and I promise to bring (and wear) sunscreen, even though it looks like rain.

I'm leaving in the morning, and depending on the wireless service in my hotel may not be able to post until I get back on Monday. So - thanks for all your well wishes, and I'll see you when I can say "I'm a marathoner."

When to run?

Juls wrote a post that describes how I'm feeling about running these days. Slow Poke too. Must be going around these days.

I like to run. I enjoy it when I get out there. But the waking up at 6, I could do without. And by the time I get home from work, I'm pretty well done for the day and no real interest in going out to run. Plus, if Meg is home I feel guilty leaving to run especially as that means we often don't eat until 9. I'm going to try today to run after work.

Banksy Prepares Me

Cathy from JogBlog let me know about a new Banksy near me. Apparently she found out about it from LondonJogger but I can't seem to find it on her blog so I'll have to take the word of Cathy and my recollection that I read it there too. Considering its proximity to my house it's kind of embarassing I haven't seen it yet, so in preparation for the marathon next week (!) I made sure I went by it today on my run. I took a picture but am too dumb to figure out how to get it off my phone so check out JogBlog for a photo. It's covered in plastic now to protect it from the idiots who want to re-graffiti this piece of street art. Stupid Garmin runs out of batteries less than one mile in so I estimate a run and I accidentally turn west when I mean east at the canal and get to the Islington tunnel and get irritated at my idiocy and run around for a while until I feel like I've gotten a good run in and then I go home. Maybe 7 miles? Maybe an hour and a half? Who knows. Who cares? I'm feeling as ready as I can be.

Good luck tomorrow to Bill and everyone else running Boston. I'll be cheering you from afar!

Local flavor

So, I'm in NYC this weekend (got to be here for work next week, wanted to visit with friends). I went for a run yesterday morning, but I really couldn't get into it. I walked rather more than I should have, wishing I had a book to listen to. On the way back, I was following a couple of guys and letting them pace me, which was awesome - when I started following them they were running my nice slow pace but slowly picked it up and I stayed with them for a couple of miles. It got me excited about the marathon; here's hoping there's someone planning a 5-5:30 marathon to run with me! I ended up running for about an hour and a half - not too bad.

Then we went out to sushi with a bunch of friends at our favorite place. We used to live near by and got to know these guys. Then we moved to another neighborhood, and didn't go as regularly, but they always remember us. They remembered that we'd moved to London when we came in last night, and asked how things are going. Meg told them about my marathon plans, and they came out after we left and gave me a T-shirt for the marathon! I won't wear it to run in but will bring it to wear right after and will take a picture and send it to them.

My friend ran the London marathon this morning in 5:27. Congrats, Anna!

Just a little concerned...

I had planned a nice 18-ish mile run for this weekend. Meg was leaving, so I decided to do it Sunday rather than run for 4 hours while she was still around on Saturday. Unfortunately Saturday night I suddenly had an attack of plantar fasciitis that is leaving me hobbling around (there's a red inflammation and I can feel the strings of the tendon through my skin - not a good thing, especially when it comes on all sudden like this). And I woke up to the most snow London has seen all winter.

So I didn't run. The marathon is now 3 weeks away, and the longest run I've done is 13.1 miles. I am a little concerned, because I've never practiced hitting the wall, or running for anything approximating 6 hours. I'm seriously contemplating calling in sick one day to run. But I would need to do it tomorrow, which isn't really an option, so that I can do 18-20 on Saturday in NYC. Which I will do, come hell or high water.

My friend is running the London marathon this weekend, and she's had ITB troubles that have capped her longest run at about 11 miles. I'm counting on her to show me it can be done. Of course, the beauty of a massive marathon like London is that even if she walks the whole thing she's unlikely to be last, whereas a small marathon like Blackpool leaves me with the distinct probability of the sweeper cars following me for 26 miles. Oh well. DFL>DNF>DNS, right?

Fooled me!

We got letter from the government agency that regulates gas meters saying they needed to replace something or other and needed access to our house. I got my boss to agree to a work at home day. I stayed home. I worked from my couch. About 3pm, I hadn't heard from them, so I called up the government agency. Apparently the engineer "couldn't find" our street, or our house, or his own ass, or something. So he wasn't coming. But of course now, it was the middle of the work day and I didn't really feel like I could just up and leave to go for a run. Grrrrrrr. Maybe it was just an elaborate April Fools joke.

So, at 5:30, I finally got dressed and took off. I decided that I'd take advantage of the basically unlimited time I had at my disposal (can we all celebrate Summer Time together?) and do an 8 mile run today and 2 shorter runs later in the week. I also decided to explore Regent's Canal west from my house (I've seen the east part when running the Limehouse route and also at then end of my long run last weekend). A really nice place to run, except for the bit where the canal goes into a tunnel you can't run and I had to figure out where to go without a good map and it turned out to be right through the busiest part of my neighborhood during the evening rush hour. Anyway, overall a great run including a couple of extra "quick" miles in the middle, and I'm feeling like I might be able to do the marathon. (I did notice a bit of runners brain in the shower after when I was trying to figure the equivalent marathon time and determined that I would have run a 9+ hour marathon, which didn't make any sense as I was faster than Saturday when I determined that I'd run at an <6 hour marathon pace. Oh, wait, 90*3 is not 360 but 180. Duh.)

In other news, I have noticed that my most popular post has to do with running bras, so I promise I'll post another review of the winners and losers soon. It's a subject that's near and dear to my heart, as a well-endowed lady who likes to run. Apparently I'm not the only one.

The longest one

Yes, I promised a rededication. And ... well ... there was a missed run in there. And a dog waking up in the middle of the night that led to a second missed run. So: I think, given my current pace, 6 miles before work is the longest I can do, and next week I'll take the scheduled 8 miles down to 6 so I can do it. Unfortunately, 5:15 is just not a time that my body will tolerate.

Anyway, I did my longest ever run today-13.1 miles! [Yes, it's 4 weeks from the marathon and the longest I've ever run is a half. It'll just have to be ok.] I felt pretty good, but the IT band was a bit sore by the end. Out to the marshes, both of them, then back along the canal. Honestly I can't tell you what I thought about, but I listened to The Brief History of the Dead, which was great company, but I need new headphones as only the right one works anymore. I tripped at mile 2 and almost quit but didn't. I decided at about mile 11 that I would just run home and however far that was would be far enough. I was what turned out later to be about 2 miles from home and getting sore and dehydrated and without any more money, and I saw the bus. Not my bus, but I thought this one went by my house, and it came before I could check the map [on Saturdays you take what you can get] so I got on. Unfortunately it obviously didn't go by my house and I think I would have been home faster if I'd just kept running. I was, however, able to turn up the pace a (very little) bit for the last half mile, and (a little) more for the last 1/10, so I wasn't totally knackered.

Clothing news: the new favourite bra still kicks ass. My underwear, not so much. Major chafage. I think the next installment of the Double D review has got to be on good running drawers.
The good news is that I feel pretty good tonight, and I think I'll be ok at the marathon. Meg made a lovely dinner which I scarfed down, I'm drinking wine and not getting totally trashed, and I'm still contemplating a run tomorrow to practice the "run when f*ing exhausted" thing. We'll see. 2 long runs left, and a taper, and then the marathon.

Running errands

My last 3 runs have been of the "I'll run to X that I have to do anyway" variety. It's been a great motivator for me. From the trip to the ATM, to the camping store on my long run well over a week ago, to my attempt to buy new knitting needles today that provided the impetus for me to get off my cozy couch and out into the hail/snow/rain/cold, these have been good ways to ensure I run even when I might not exactly want to. Which is good - because the marathon is now 5 weeks away, and the last month has been less than ideal in the training department. But 5 weeks is long enough to make a difference (I hope) but short enough to make me focus, so I'm re-dedicating myself to the training: 3 weeks of hard training and 2 weeks to taper. I think the 16 week training program was too long for me, and although I'm already thinking about the next couple of races I want to run, I think I'm planning to do a shorter program. I'm planning a 10k with my office in early July, so my tentative plan is to take a month after the marathon to recover, run when I feel like it, etc, then take 8 weeks to get myself ready to run a <1 hour 10k - from a 11-12 min/mile base, I think this is feasible, right?

Today's run featured quite a bit of the mantra, and a lot of time thinking about why I run, who I run for, etc, and a small bit of running "with" all my blogger friends. I had quite a long conversation with Marathon Dude Bill, in particular.

Apologies that I haven't kept up with everyone lately - I've felt guilty about my lack of running and that's translated into guilt about reading about running. But I'm back on the roads, and online.

It just takes one

Neither Meg nor I had any money in our wallets last night, and our housekeeper was coming today. So I said I'd run to the bank in the morning to get cash - not quite 4 miles which was my scheduled run for the first run of this week. And the alarm went off, and I contemplated not running as I have for the last several days, and then I remembered that we needed cash. And I made it out the door. Not a great run, but I'm feeling more inspired to do the training somehow.

In other news, I'm also inspired by someone else running his first marathon this spring.

Finally, thanks for all your comments and continuing support even when I'm not running, or blogging, as regularly as I should be.

Week 8: I'm (mostly) still out there

No, I haven't disappeared. Things at work are insanely busy, and I don't even have time to think about my running, let alone blog about it (or keep up with the rest of you - I'm coming back, I swear!). I am mostly still running, though I cut my long run short today for a reason you gents don't want to know about. Next week should be better, I hope! In the meantime, I'm having an amazing Roasted Carrot Soup for dinner tonight (no, that's not my CSA but I did get end-of-season carrots in my box this week).

Week 8, Day 1: Breaking in

After far too long lazing about, I got back on the road this morning. I was also breaking in my new shoes, which I bought in the interest of alternating to give my feet/legs a breather, reducing the incidence of blisters, and making my shoes last a bit longer. I set out for the Islington 4-mile course I usually use, but you may recall I haven't actually run this course properly in quite some time. I actually forgot that I had done it for 4 miles before, and so I'd had the park in my head as a turn-around point, but when I got there, I was only at 1.6 so very clearly not to halfway. I carried on, winding my way through Hackney (my favourite borough!) without managing to get lost though at some point I stopped to look at the map and pushed what I thought was "stop" on the Garmin and it said "timer started" so somewhere in there I'd run for a while without either timing or following myself along. I'll try to recreate the lost miles somewhere and add my true total distance and route but in the meantime I'll just go with the reported time and distance. 4.2 miles, 47:32. But then I finished well over 4 miles and was still most of a mile from home, and in the interest of not overdoing it today and needing to rest/recover too much the rest of the week considering I'm 8 weeks out and took most of a week off, I decided to just walk home.

Which brings me to a thought on the training plan I'm using. It's a nice gradual increase, and considering it's designed to take you from barely able to run 3 miles to a marathon in 16 weeks, I see the wisdom of the approach, but there are NO CUTBACK WEEKS. I don't think I need it physically - the mileage is pretty low, overall - but the mental break is nice too and I think that's why I took last week off - because there wasn't a prescribed method for kicking back a bit. Lesson for next marathon.

Week 7, Day 4: The best laid plans...

I planned to run 12 or so miles yesterday, but thanks to the suprise extra snow that started falling at 2am Thursday/Friday and didn't stop until around 5pm Friday, I bagged that plan in favor of a (hopefully) less snowy Saturday. When I went to buy new running shoes, there was a sale on hats and gloves, so I grabbed some. Saturday arrived clear and chilly. I pulled my running clothes out of my suitcase and discovered I'd only brought capri pants. Definitely glad I had my new hat and gloves. Then I discovered that Big G was out of batteries (again! Didn't I just charge it?) - this has got to stop. Luckily, NYC is kind of my home turf, so I have a pretty good idea how far things are and I'm not concerned about getting lost. Off into the cold go I. Big thank you to the folks from NYC Parks who, with 2 notable exceptions, had the East River Path completely clear. It took me a few miles to warm up, but after a while I relaxed into it and got into something of a groove. Around 30th St, I found myself 6 inches deep in icy water, and facing a dead end that meant I had to backtrack through the icy water. I forgot that the path goes up 1st Avenue here. I was feeling pretty good, running 4 songs and walking 1, though after about 1 minute I felt ready to run again - but I enforced the loger walk to ensure I'd make it through the whole run. While running up 1st Ave, I found myself behind a couple of cuties and I have to admit I sped up a bit to not get dusted by them, especially as we got back onto the path. They turned around at 79th, and I was on my own again. At 85th, the Parks Department fell down on the job again, and I was in the cold water again. Luckily the socks I was wearing were pretty wicking, and my feet didn't stay wet for long. Around here there was also a big hill, where the kids were all out sledding - pretty cute. I had intented to run to 120th, but at 96th my right IT band was starting to hurt, so I turned around and retraced my steps to my friend's apartment. Total distance: 10.7 miles. I can't wait to get back to London where it doesn't snow, and my sweetie is, and I can run with some regularity.

A pause to get my bearings

We went to Paris last weekend to meet some friends. I got up on Saturday morning intending to run 12 miles on the Champs-Elysees and next to the Seine. I've never been to Paris before, but I had my handy tracking device with me and thought I would be fine. But Meg rolled over and expressed concern for me and her fear that I would get lost, and that's a really hard thing to argue against considering my track record. So, off to the fitness centre. I really don't like the treadmill anymore, and this fitness centre wasn't great - no TVs, and the treadmill was facing a huge mirror, so I was looking at the prospect of 12 miles with nothing except my increasingly sweaty face and body to look at. After a half hour, I'd had enough. I slipped over to the bike and did another half hour, and called it a day. We walked and walked all over Paris, and I managed to come home without gaining weight, I think, so I'll call that one a draw. This week I've been traveling like a crazy person and completely exhausted, so much so that I'm having trouble remembering where I am and what day it is, so I have not been running at all. I'm off to NY for a short visit tonight, and since I have no real plans I'm going to run 12 miles tomorrow and a short run on Sunday before I come home, and get back on track next week.

Week 7, Day 3: Mama said there'd be days like this

Forgot to charge Big G. Got the "battery low" beep as I headed out. Looked down when I went to cross the street and it had turned off. (That's one of my biggest gripes - there's basically no warning between low battery and no battery...Garmin, are you listening?) OK, whatever, just run. Think maybe I've turned down the wrong street and won't be getting to the park I'm aiming at, so turn up a decent looking street. Check out my location on a bus map, discover my north/south has gotten screwed up but I'm still headed in the right direction. Turn towards home. Come upstairs. Check out the map. Discover I was actually almost to the park when I turned. Calculate that I cheated myself (AGAIN!) out of my total distance. In the end, though, it's what you do every day that matters, not what you do on any one day. I am a marathoner. 3.5 miles, unknown time.