Crash and Recovery

The unusually warm weather persists. Yesterday I started at 9AM, too late for the 20 miles I had as a goal. The 10 to Cooper City and Publix rest stop was steady but challenging. The entire time I tried to establish a sense of whether to turn and go back or go long as planned. It felt forced; I made a deal with myself and I wanted to see it through- I wanted to see my total miles for the week above 50. And besides, I still needed to break the 18+ mile mark. I thought of Josh's advise to 'sleep' the first half of the marathon. So I tried not to think too much for what I knew brought me to about mile 13. Well on my way back east on Taft, it's a dark tunnel of tough sidewalk blocks until University, my legs and feet already sore. And those were the easy miles. From University to 441, I tried to distract myself through the easier neighborhood streets, as I snake my way further on, but a hitch in my left hip began, which seemed to slide into my ankle and foot. It was at this point I began to take walk breaks. Walking, however, is not running. And I had not previously had to walk at this point before. SIGH. From 441 home I honestly don't remember much. I know I walked a good bit of the last few miles. I had to chunk everything down to single blocks, counting the numbers down. I know it was slightly more than the 18+ because I didn't cut the same corners. But if it was 19, or a bit more, it still took me a solid 5 hours. Barely walking the steps home; crashed on the floor, ate until I couldn't eat anymore; my brain seemed on a strange fuzzy shock of recovery...

Which brings me to today. Thanks, again, to Dave, who said, hey, just do a few easy miles and see how you feel. It's probably nothing serious, just beat up by the distance and etc etc. I wasn't going to run at all. I was seriously thinking of quitting the marathon. How can I shame myself by running 20 miles and having to tank out? If I even get that far.....I puttered and pouted all day. Called the 'support team', and by mid-afternoon felt that familiar tug, the push from my belly and feet, the need to be out on the road...but before I left I took my time relacing my shoes, and thinking about the run. Easy miles, slow and steady. Short, nothing fancy. I thought I'd go to the park and do some drills while I was at it, but as I passed it by, an antiques show was underway; I kept going. The cool brisk breeze was a perfect compliment to the warmth of the sun. So even though it was midday it felt fine, wonderful, full of sunlight and ease. I took Park over to the Emerald Hills stretch feeling amazingly strong. Nothing hurt. I worked on my gait, my rhythm and form.
Until I hit Thomas and the stretch back, I stayed consistent, and then felt some sluggishness hit. Altogether, maybe 6+ miles, and I'm glad I did it. Good to know nothing is wrong with my feet, etc, except that I took a pounding yesterday.

I've been taking quite a beating from the Powers that Be, it feels like, as they stack up the pressure and make sure I pay attention to what I say and do and think.
I'm not usually so disciplined; my creative nature loves to mentally roam all over the place. Running appeals to me because it is pure movement anywhere I want to go in space. It mirrors what I love best inside myself, a completely free space, without constraints. Suddenly it seems everyone is invested in how I'm thinking; and I feel I must get it right- whatever 'right' is. Meanwhile, I note my own rebelliousness as a means of trying to stay free, to recover my own thoughts, ideas and opinions, no matter who you are....

Recovery is regaining a sense of balance. So after 19 or so torturous miles, I can run today and feel a bit of hope come back. It's fast coming up on '08, the hearing, the marathon....and whatever else the Universe has in store. I never realized how deep I'd have to go to swing between the extremes of faith and despair without giving up, until, I suppose, I find that tipping point where whatever distance I've gone, I can still stand on my feet and claim the space with honor, ease and self-respect.

So quiet and alone

The run over the interstate, across major roads and into the neighborhoods had an eerie silence to it...which only happens a few times a year when most folks are snug within their cocoons of comfort or discomfort, depending. After 10 miles yesterday, I did 8 today, with a good kick at the end, and a few sections of hitting a higher push on the pace. I've been eating more, and maybe it accounts for the endurance. But my sleep is disturbed again, and I'm just trying to run out the nervousness, fear and anxieties before I head back to work tomorrow.
Dave offers lots of support from Urban Shaman. Very practical, yet elusive as is all change-advise. My strategy was to try to attain some emotional distance from everything, but I don't think there was quite enough time....after getting past the unveiling and family, it wasn't much until the real world comes flaming back into my head.
December is coming to a crashing close. Somewhere on a church billboard I saw the xmas message "Share the Gift". I had to stop and think about the gift, past the personage, and the sharing. And how to find a root to it all, to get deeper than the social networks that I've lost. I shared time with the sky, the atmosphere filled with light today. I followed my feet around the loop of streets until I passed the park, closed up tight. I barely hobbled to the corner where I came to a stop and felt my heart pound in my chest. My legs and feet are sore. My heart is frayed at the edges. I know this is a time when the burden of loneliness is difficult to take, but as long as I'm moving, it seems easier. It's just when I stop that the undeniable reality of silence comes.
For those who carry the Joy, I salute you and thank you. May you carry me through, those who love me, as I carry others through their suffering and pain.
Let's share the gift- of hope.

It was just a 30K after all

The crisp, cool night of Solstice was invigorating. Best laid plans were just that, laid to bed. The week, with it's heights and furrows, constantly tripping me up, was over, at work. I needed and wanted nothing more than to vegetate blissfully on my living room floor. So after some drills, fresh air and a sauna, that's what I did last night, a feign attempt to leech the crappiness out of my system from The System, trying to pollute me once again....

So I slept, long, restless, and I dreamed, of....not sure what. But when I got up, I wanted to follow that cold air out into the day, on my feet, and see what could happen. I thought for sure, going really long, past Douglas and my Publix outpost, might bring me into a 20-ish range. There wasn't a cloud in the sky when I took off; it was an ideal day for a long run.

I've worked out some packing, a hydration belt with just 2 bottles, extra cash, a bar and gatorade/protein powder. I feel like a packhorse, and I don't like it; the shorter runs I don't take a thing, and I prefer being completely unencumbered. I also wore the clothes I consider racing in. So I had all this optimism and hope, and I took it on gallantly.

It wasn't a bad run. It was pretty brutal there somewhere past the midpoint, but as usual, something always resolves towards the end, no matter how far that end might be; peculiar. Anyhow, the problem is, I checked everything on my e-map; I barely made a 30k....and the point when it became difficult was- big surprise- mile 13, what would be the halfway point. Every wincing dragging limping crazed footfall was still miles and miles short of what I would have to be doing....how do I physically keep moving for an entire half marathon feeling like I'm on my last legs??? 5 hours, yeaa, right. More like 6+ and that's generous. For the first time I had to walk through the possible scenario of not being able to finish....in some fashion...and could I accept that, after all this work and anticipation.

Seems I am always over-anticipating myself; I have such vision of everything. The details of getting there are so mundane, but necessary, yes I know. It all seems natural and easy at first then suddenly limitations and boundaries are everywhere. What felt like limitless potential and possibility devolves into necessity; the Mother who does indeed invent our lives. It's necessary to try, I suppose. I just don't know any other way. I've quit a lot of things in life. I understand the risk of walking away and what's at stake. I have remade and redefined my path; I am more nimble in my head than ever on my real feet. It's all an arteface of something anyway. Who am I on the road? Just some girl running. No one knows me. I have no obligation except to keep moving forward; no one bothers me, I'm just traveling through.

I hope I finish. I don't know if I want anyone there. I have to accept any possibility, in public if they are. Difficult call. I am a month out now, and there are more hurdles to come. If I keep my shit together, head level, and just focus on the swing, the move, the rhythm, maybe I can stay up, keep on, come through.

Trying to Stay on my Feet

It would appear that the Powers that Be are throwing obstacles in my path this week, as I find out about work-related challenges that are serious enough to cause lost sleep and nightmares. I am a person prone to emotional bleed; the intensity of my inner life can be easily thrown off balance by the turmoil of conflict directed at me. As a counselor I am learning to deflect the hurt and pain of my clients, knowing it is energy blocked about others, not me. But this time, it is my superiors who are on the hunt. And what was my honest efforts to achieve a greater stability, clarity and unity in my work has now been redefined in an adversarial way by others. It never ceases to amaze me how this works. And the casualties it causes. Very real harm is done by those who take positions against others without cause. Follow Tibet. Follow any of the political hot spots. Power, control and authority at other's expense. It's a very sad state of affairs.

The sun was throwing slow moving shafts of morning light through the sheafs of gray clouds, spitting drizzly little showers now and then as I rounded out my 8 miles. It was good to be out, on my feet and away. I took no music today and found in my head the images of my dear friends CeeCee, Vitae, and Shari who magically connected yesterday, a time when I needed to hear from those I love. My spiritual family. The nightmare I had lumbered around in the back of my head and occasionally tried throwing me off my stride. I got really fatigued coming off 56th. But somewhere in that last mile or so I found that little nook of peace, away from traffic, tucking into my own lonely heart, and letting my feet take me home.

It's hard to remember this is going somewhere without Fear nipping at my heels. I try to stay focused on everything happening as if nothing is wrong. The cougar I dreamt about, who is stalking me, better beware. Maybe I am stalking him. I might be running him down.

It Wasn't Pretty

Saturday got away from me; so Sunday had to be a long run worth logging. In the end, it was somewhere around 18 miles, looping extra long across 95, before turning west to head all the way to Cooper City. I took a break at the Publix there at the corner of Douglas and Sheridan and I was already spent. I'd gotten caught in a squall on the last stretch in and was soaked through; my feet were squishy with water, my visor was no protection from rain washing down my hair, I was cold, my legs hurt....and I still needed to go all the way back. With the extra beginning loop this was a 10 mile mark. Discouragement was all I could feel. I tried to remember what it was like running the Half last year, standing in the chute in the dark, in the pouring rain....but by mile 10 I was almost home....this time 10 miles would be more towards the beginning than the end, and here I was, dog tired.....

By the time I headed out, the rain had passed, leaving gusty gray streaks of clouds in its wake, puddles in the sidewalks, drifts of water from the passing cars....I kept trying to find the gait that would dampen the discomfort as I came to Sheridan and University and decided to go all the way long, and find the cut to Arthur which would make it the longer loop. By doing so, I gain a long straight stretch to 441 in a quiet neighborhood where traffic and sidewalks are not the issue; finding that stride, that gait that takes me beyond discomfort and pain is. I battled with myself; I became at once angry, discouraged, immensely fatigued; I wanted to quit then and there, hitch-hike home and toss my shoes away. I wouldn't accept that after all this time, at mile...whatever...I was still feeling like this...how could I ever run past the distance of a half-marathon without tanking? It just did not seem remotely possible.

I took every portion from that point on in small bits. At University and Taft I had to walk to 58th...Once I got back onto Thomas and the last long straight stretch, I tried to forget about everything, to find the long vision that would bring me home.
Strangely, it was probably the last mile, maybe less that I found a groove...a few strides or pushes where something seemed okay, to meld with the road. I like to think it relates to the horse coming into the barn, and the instinctive anticipation of the end of a long journey. Every run seems to have this animal feeling towards the end, the pleasure of completion, of coming in from the Big Trip. By then, rounding up Park, and stopping to a walk by the apartments, I could hardly move....
I kept thinking its just 6 more, but nahhh....its EIGHT PLUS more....8 is what I do on my week-day runs...8 is a regular day. Add that to yesterday, to survival, squalls, cold, fatigue, despair; and THAT is the MARATHON...

I am suddenly scared....I want to quit. I received the E-card for registration last week, and I see my name and number. It doesn't seem remotely possible that when I line up with other runners, I can legitimately wish for the finish. How can I get my optimism back? In time??

Tough Runs

Despite a beautiful morning, lovely breeze to soften the early sun and motivation to get it right, I dragged my sorry ass the entire 8 miles today....without a clue as to why. It frustrates me to no end when this happens, even when I realize I have ramped up my overall mileage, as well as increased my caseload at work etc. It still escapes me what specific factors influence a good run versus a tough one. David gave me much needed inspiration, so cool. But its my own feet that must take the burden of the journey one mile at a time, one step even, one heartbeat, on the hope of completing the effort.

Is it just the fear? I had nightmares last night. I'm irritable and edgy. The dialogue in my head is full of gunk. There is plenty of light, but they're carnivale; they seem charactatures of promise, and I wonder if it will all pan out as promised.
What is certain about any of it anyway? I make a commitment to show up. But anything is possible, including failure. If there is hope of redemption, I have to take it on faith. Hard work, hard work- and more hard work. That's all I have, for now.

Key Biscayne, Bill Baggs and the Rickenbacker

After taking Friday as a rest day, I acted on impulse and packed my gear for the long loop on Key Biscayne. From the bottom of Bill Baggs State Park to the entrance of Key Biscayne its a 16 mile loop. And it was a beautiful day! I started a little after 9 AM, with enough of a breeze to offset warmish temps. As I drove the route in, I tried to scope out my run, where the construction would constrict me, and how to navigate the bike paths coming up to the first bridge. I felt just fine as I cruised through the small, enchanted downtown of Key Biscayne, with its pictureque bus stops and well-heeled shoppers, rounding up to the highway where all I can work with is the bike path. I decided it was prudent to have them come at me instead of from behind; so I ran on the left side and had the view of both traffic and cyclists as they came down the road. The advantage was having full knowledge of how much room to let loose, and when to make way. The stretch up to the marina was uneventful, and I felt strong. The first bridge, which is long and shallow, gave me my first glimpse of open water, and reminded me of why I love to run here....and on I went heading for the Rickenbacker.

I figure it must be about 6-7 miles in when I hit that massive bridge; I can see it from a distance as it hovers up and over the water like a great hovering bird, and each time I see it I wonder how to conquer it. By the time it arrives, I mentally fall into the rhythm which will move me up and up -and up until I can see the top and open sky....the way down is just as taxing, staying on the gait, trying to keep my legs from flying out from under me as I take to the rest of the straight-away and the entrance gates....

Turning back, it's apparent my legs are pooped. I try an easy loping to give myself rest, but I have the Rickenbacker once more, a punishing climb, then a stop after I cruise another mile to the frozen lemonade stand. I cannot run distance without calories; the frozen lemonade gives me sugar, the sourness to clear my dryness and the cold when I'm overheated. I slurped it as I loped another stretch, and discarded it as I hit the second bridge. On the other side was the highway stretch to the city....running the bike path, focusing on my gait, it was a brutal run....my legs felt leaden, heavy, my feet hurt...its not my endurance, its my body that causes the problems....I don't seem to run out of oxygen or gas, I have to contend with the aches and pains in my legs.....

I make a mental note....I am 12-14 miles....this is so much less than the marathon distance I begin to feel the deep abiding fear that nags at me, that I will not be able to complete.....I need to get back to my car and know there is only one way it will happen, so I knuckle in to my pace, my gait and keep going, through the main city blocks, out the other side and there, gratefully, is the entrance to Bill Baggs. It was a strangely long mile into the park and to the car. When I tried to stop, it was difficult, and I almost couldn't walk for a minute....I had to loosen my legs for a while by walking in the parking lot....and even then, I felt run over by trucks....

So by doing this long loop on Saturday, I haven't one planned for today, Sunday, my regular day. I mapped out long loops between now and 1/27, to get between 15-22 miles....I'm not sure what I'll run today....feel like I need to get out and do something.

Not sure what factors to consider; weather is unseasonably warm. I'm working long hours (translation: sitting long hours at a time). I've been having fluctuations in diet, eating lots, eating less, hungry all the time. Aches and pains in general, especially neck and shoulders, increasing. I have a call into a sports massage therapist. I hope this helps.

I suppose its natural to become faint-hearted when there's nothing to depend on in previous experience. I remember last year preparing for the half, and feeling it was just as impossible. But it's still difficult to run 13; I've NEVER run beyond 18 (in the 30K)....so I am truly in unknown territory....

There are many people, young people, old people, men and women, running first marathons. They are not extraordinary by most standards, except for believing in the potential of their abilities and love of taking a good risk. What is so different about me? I am definitely out to prove something to myself. It's the biggest physical challenge of my life. Where my intellectual skills may have gotten me through very serious challenges in my life, what I learn in this pursuit is how strong I really can be, both physically and mentally. Emotionally, I have created a buffer with the world that comes from the satisfaction in my own efforts. I am pleased with myself, proud of myself. There may be no one tracking or mapping or cheering me on day by day, but I have my supporters, and I am just grateful that when it comes down to it, I am able to feel the great freedom of every run.

Running for fun, for fulfillment, for peace.

Website

http://www.riccirobson.com/index.html

For any professional inquires, please take a look at my website. And thanks to my dear Sandy for all her hard work putting it together!

Wise words

In our concern for others, we worry less about ourselves. When we worry less about ourselves an experience of our own suffering is less intense."
-- Dalai Lama.

First December Long Run

While winter storms blast the midwest, unseasonably warm temps bring an unusual challenge for training this time of year. For the first long run of December, I cope with 80+ degrees, and head west, past University to Douglas Rd and the sign for Cooper City. And though it felt like the ends of the earth, according to the mapmyfitness site, it was, altogether, a 14 mile loop. Of course I cut the initial corner by jumping right on to Park Rd, but still, I was pretty amazed....after every long run I ask myself, can you go an additional 5, 10, 12 miles??

I felt strong to Douglas. I stopped at a Publix to refuel, and on the way back struggled to get my gait back all the way to John Williams Park, the next stop. But when I hit Thomas St. and the straight stretch home, I found it, the magical groove when whatever discomfort suffered seems to dissipate into the back of my awareness, and the rhythm of the run has a momentum of its own. The day was gorgeous; a little hot, yes, but crystal clear, with a small breeze kicking up in my face, each block passing me by in a blur of numbers counting down, taking the last turn with just enough energy for a kick home.

December is the last month to train hard. I want to sustain my 50+ weekly mileage and increase the Sunday runs. I figure if I keep going west, I can add miles easily, looping back the way I came. The traffic is sparse and I have stores to stop if I need them. It may still take me a ridiculously long time, but I still need to prove to myself I can stay on my feet for many hours. I even found a new way to lace my shoes which relieves pressure off the tops of my feet, and this was an incremental and enormous help. By Jan. I want to log a 20 miler and be ready to taper by mid month. I am trying to figure out how to gauge my expectations; too high, and I will be in for a hard fall. Too low and I might undertrain, and miscalculate my own resources. My running companions will be instrumental in helping me with this; they seem to understand the experience as only someone successful in running marathons can do.

It feels like a long ways, that 14 miles. Almost double, and I make it 26. I picture trying to do that loop twice, and how to make my feet rise and fall, rise and fall. I've done the 30k, so I can go longer, but I'm feeling intimidated by all this distance all of a sudden. Where am I going? I need to be careful, when out there, not to get lost, so close to the end.