Pool Cues

So today it was lashing rain. While I've never been one to back away from dramatic weather to go for a run, even if I had gone out, it would have been a short run and the amount of rain and leaves and puddles would have made it not worth it for the few miles I would have done. Plus (and this is probably TMI, men, skip ahead) I had two weeks of PMS that finally ended today. Sometimes when I have PMS it just kills my running. I have to stop like, every mile because of rolling cramps and exhaustion. It's AWFUL.

So I went to the pool.

I'm a lousy swimmer.

I can swim to like, not die, but that's pretty much it. I've never been a big fan of putting my face in the water to do the crawlstroke (or is it called freestyle now? nothing to me feels free about it). My breathing gets all wonky. I can't really dive. I feel like I'm too old to take lessons to make me a better swimmer. Maybe I'll get there some day. After all, I come from a long line of swimmers. It's yet another thing I don't understand about my family.

Where was I?

Oh yes. The pool.

So when I go to the pool, I water run.

I'm sure people at the pool probably think I can't swim. Upon arriving (in my bikini from Target, by the way; I still haven't gotten around to getting A Real Swimsuit), I walk over to the flotation belts. I pick out a small and cinch it around my waist. I then walk into the shallow end and bounce out to the deep end, where, for anywhere from 30-60 minutes, I "run" in the deep end of the pool. Or, as Rita, my 76-year old friend who I met at the pool, calls it, "Pedaling in the pool."

And when a 76-year-old woman calls out your pool form, the thought "Maybe I should be a better swimmer" crosses your mind.

Sometimes I mix it up. I do running-type lunges. Or sort of an elliptical/cross-country ski move. I also do intervals: One minute really hard, 15 sec of rest, then another minute really hard. Repeat 5-10 times. This helps the time go by faster. It's something.

Don't laugh. This past March I blew out my hamstring. It's why I missed Boston 2011 (which STILL burns me!). I took to the pool. I pedaled my ass off in the pool. I gradually got back to running, but still used the pool. In July I qualified for Boston.

Days when I'm sore or whatever, I go to the pool. And, sad to say, it helps. I'm sad to say it because I want to be running exclusively, but I can't seem to be able to. I have long, lovely stretches of consistency that are occasionally blown by a Big Deal (e.g., appendicitis).

Obviously my body likes the pool (see: genes), but my brain likes the run.

There are some strange people at the pool. There are strange people at any fitness facility, though. And I'm probably one of the strange people. In fact, I'm sure of it ("that woman in her 30s  who comes in with the bikini who can't swim, right?").

There are the two men who lean on the ledge in the deep end and talk shit about politics for an hour. They don't actually swim. They just talk. It's like Meet the Press: Waterbound.

There is the man, with the pointy beard, who prances in the shallow end with what looks like a harmonica.

There is the TERRIFYING water aerobics teacher, who is a presence and doesn't need to be miked. The few times I've been in there and the class overlaps with my time in the pool is frightening. One time I messed up the schedule and walked in to "USE YOUR NOODLES, LADIES!"

3 x Monday

The past three Mondays, I have rolled my ankle on my runs. What is up with me? But things happen in threes, right? Though each time it's gotten progressively not as bad. So either I'm rolling it less, recovering better, or burying myself further and further in denial.

Also, the wind was everywhere.

I'm waiting for the day when a 5-mile run isn't going to feel like a longer one. When an 8-mile run is just a usual run and not something with a lot of effort. I think I'm still recovering from the appendectomy and being out for close to a month, and a few other issues that I'm having a hard time getting past.

Hopefully time will make things smoother. It has to, right? I'm too young for this getting older shit.

I am also preparing a big fundraising blitz. I'm multi-tasking like it's my job. As I type this, I'm preparing a big email via Facebook to spam my friends about donating, listening to a conference call with my charity, typing this blog, and giving attention to Bean, who is sitting on my lap, purring. I feel weird about getting in touch with people who I haven't in years, but...hey, there you go. I did this in 2005 when I fundraised for my first marathon with Team in Training, and I raised $3,800.

So I know I can do this. I just need to remember how. And fuck shyness.

Right?

Here's my fundraising link again.

I was thinking that tomorrow was going to be a pool day, but I'm going to wake up in the morning and then decide. If I don't go to the pool I'll do a shortish but hilly run.

One last thing: I see weird things on my runs sometimes. On my route home, someone had dumped a big pile of black beans on a slope in front of a house. There's your hill of beans.

Forecast: Wind EVERYWHERE

I do a 4-mile loop on some easy days. Actually, it's more of a lollypop than a loop, so mile 4 is mile 1 in the opposite direction.

The headwind was EVERYWHERE. 

How does that HAPPEN?

My fundraising is at 8%. Slow and steady.

This weekend has been...kind of humbling, at best. Saturday, I did my long run: 8 miles. Today's recovery run: 4 miles. 

I remember when 8 miles was an easy run. Yesterday's 8-miler felt more like an 18 miler. I stopped a lot. Out of breath. Tired. I couldn't blame the wind. 

It's so hard when you're used to performing at a certain level and your body betrays you.

This is nothing new.

I should be grateful that I can be out there at all, I know. And running, for me, continues to be a roller coaster. What I will say is this: I am enjoying the ride indeed.

Fundraising Link

I'll put this elsewhere on the blog, and frequently, but donate here.

First Post

I've tried various blogs before and they've never stuck. This one has a better chance, because it's somewhat temporary. It will serve a function, and then it will end. So yes, my first post is about my last post.

Why I'm writing this blog: In 2010, I qualified to run Boston 2011. You can read about that here. I trained my ass off, and tore my hamstring with six weeks to go until Boston. I couldn't run. I thought I could defer, but I was wrong. In July 2011, I re-qualified for Boston. Want to read about that race? It's here.

But even though I qualified, I didn't get under enough to make it into Boston 2012. I blame the heat, but it's a moot point.

I deserved a second chance to run Boston. A Boston mulligan, if you will.

I was fortunate enough to snag a charity spot for the 2012 Running for Cover Team, benefitting the Melanoma Foundation of New England. I'm pretty excited about this. I have a family history of melanoma, so it's a cause I am close to.

I'm also pretty nervous about this.

My first marathon (I've run five), I ran to benefit Team in Training. I had never run more than five miles before that. I had never fundraised before that. I accomplished both my running and financial goals.

But there's a part of me that worries I won't meet the financial target (I have to raise $4,000). Or that something else with my body will go wrong before next April, 2012. I actually kind of hate talking about my marathon training because I always feel like I'm going to jinx it.

I will be training very conservatively for this. I kind of don't care about my time. I don't expect to PR, and I'm not sure I even want to (though who kicks a PR out of bed, right?). I don't want to embarrass myself, though.

Though I've run five marathons and two qualifiers, I've also had setbacks. Many setbacks. Probably more setbacks than races.

Three weeks ago, I had an emergency appendectomy. That went fine, but it was several weeks off running. Then one of my first days back, I twisted my ankle pretty hard. I've done it once more since.

See why I'm superstitious?

In this blog I'll talk about my experience training and fundraising. That's about it. If you're my friend, I'm on Facebook. If you want the abbreviated version, I'm on Twitter. And once I get my fundraising page set up, I'll post that, too.