setbacks and disappointments

My overconfidence has cost me; its feeling like a stress fracture in the same foot I injured before. I knew it wasn't right on the way to 17th St. Causeway, but I'd made up my mind. I was a mile shy of returning when I had to stop- and walk. A first. All the research is pointing to this...even pool running today was tough if I put too much pressure down on that foot. The pendulum is taking me to the other side of things, it seems, in many ways, with challenges unforseen. It's a blow to my tough resolve to find myself back in a fight to overcome what I thought I'd come out of, a certain plateau of function and ability. Whether its physical, emotional or spiritual, it never comes easy to me. And what most people take for granted and maybe even in me, is thinking its always there, the happiness, the capacity, the endurance to survive and strive. I know its more delicate than that. And a certain amount of luck and timing is involved. So it seems. There is only so much preparation and effort we put in to our training, before factors beyond our control changes outcomes. What happens, is a healing process. And after that, more work. It's over when we stop. But I can continue, one way or another, to find my way.

farther for fast twitching

Put a very respectable 10+ miler in this AM, to the beach, down the broadwalk and back. If increasing distance and going at it cnsistently, pushing that envelope is the key to getting those fast twitch muscle fibers into the game, then mine must have gotten notice by now! I am certainly feeling it. Sunday was 10, yesterday 8 and today 10. I could not have pulled this off before....It was amazing to pull up and over those little overpasses, to cross the intersections one by one, and to cruise home still on my feet. I once did the long loop thru Hollywood and felt I had to crawl that last mile in. One foot in front of the other; it really does work. It seems earlier is better. The heat and humidity are brutal. The sun was already high on the ocean by 7:30AM. So if I'm to stay commited to my routine, then I will need to be up and out as close to 6:30 as possible. It's gonna happen if I make it happen. I will be strong if I put the miles in. Whatever else is happening, this becomes my 'base'....and sets my confidence. Anything is possible as I keep setting those goals and realize them. Going farther, going long.

Full Circle

There is a Japanese runner whose goal is the run marathons in the slowest time possible as part of a spiritual discipline. (see Runner's World June '07) He runs many of them, takes tons of photos and aims to schmooze with as many people along the way as possible. He took his cue from the 'running monks' of Japan, which 'jogged' my memory (no pun intended) of one of my early running crossroads....I met the man who would become my first husband and father of my son in my early 20's. I had just dropped out of college and he was teaching. A reformed party boy, he was a musician who came under the mentorship of an avante garde drummer whose philosophy included a body/mind/spirit approach to art. In quick order I learned about macrobiotic nutrition, organic gardening, Edgar Cayce, meditation, the power of improvisation in many things, metaphysics in all varieties....and yes, that husband-to-be ran! He was tall, lean, intensely ethereal. His other-worldliness and commitment to his lifestyle was what gravitated me towards him. I was a walker back then. I began walking as a kid to escape the 'hot' house and discover the back trails (which still existed then) of my suburban neighborhoods. I continued to ramble long miles and was enamoured of this running phenome. It was then I learned of the running monks whose entire spiritual discipline centered around a routine of spartan diet and running mountain trails ALL DAY EVERY DAY in deep meditation.
So here I am training for what I trust will be my first marathon, reading about this little Japanese dude who runs as slow as he can in every marathon he can get to. Who embodies running monks and brings me the threads of my youth, my 'initiation' into both movement, marriage and spirituality. Even if the marriage did not last, the man I was with gave me lasting gifts. I hope he knows that. Certainly our son is the solid evidence of that, another soul with a love of movement, a glider pilot. I continued to walk for many many years. I walked away from many things, I walked through some tough times, but I never sped up until the time was right, I suppose, and something prompted my feet to lift off the ground.
I've wondered about being slow, and and the obsession with times...like everyone else I pen mine on my bibs and compare my results in my age groups. But I realize now its all coming full circle, its all about the distance. I always knew it was about going long, hanging in and watching as everything unfolds along the way. I almost missed it, lost my footing, fell out. I'm so glad to be able to say I'm still on my feet, in the race, getting stronger by the day, with my focus firmly in place.

the problem with sidewalks

I carefully mapped a new loop, a very solid 8 miler, that starts by taking me over the interstate and looping back to the regular route west and etc. I am running the same basic loop ad nauseum, and stay to the side streets as much as possible, taking to the sidewalks only when necessary. Those sidewalks watch me, hunt me and have grabbed me more than once. I've fallen and almost fallen now a handful of times. I'm getting to know every crevice and stretch of buckled sections, side curves and bumpers, swales and steps...and still when I least expect it, BOOM! Today I cruised over the overpass, the underpass and began the tricky negotiation next to the construction by the gas station when a guy on a bike headed my way just as the sidewalk began its wacky sideways dip. I side-step and catch my left foot right where a brick juts out from the concrete, bending my ankle into my foot....I feel the 'effect'...and keep running on it, no problem thinking, whew! dodged that bullet! And ran the whole 8 miles. Now I have an ice pack on it and am mad as hell....this is the first time I can remember ever traumatizing my ankles in any way and I know how delicate this can be. Apparently I have not made sufficient homage to the sidewalk gods or negotiated a workable contract. Maybe there are magnetic force fields I need to be channeling to elevate my weight just enough to hover above those buckling, mocking sections. Or specially designed shoes that scope out the landscape and sound warnings...how vigilant does a girl need to be?

We try to prepare and make so many 'informed decisions', when to run, and how and with what gear, what do we eat, drink first, during and intend to consume after, how much rest, what attitude and approach, what's our plan. Then it all comes down to a brick and a stretch of concrete. Many atheletes face much more dire consequences from all sorts of accidents and circumstances, either because of risks they take on themselves or by sheer happenstance. But each encounter with the unplanned and spontaneous is still a test of our ability to "take it in stride" and remember the distance and the goal, a much longer place, beyond anywhere we are in this world. Only our minds will limit us, only our attitude can really hold us back.
So once this ice does it job and my aggravation cools down, it will be back to the roads- and yes, those sidewalks- once more.