Yesss.

Running Log:
Today: 4 miles
Yesterday: 5.5 miles, 100-meter stride-outs
Tomorrow: fartlek 1-2-3-2-1

I had an awesome run last night. A-w-e-s-o-m-e. I felt great mentally. Physically, I was hurting a little in the beginning, but after a couple miles I felt SO good. Sigh.

I didn't go out until almost 9 o'clock, which I thought would be scary because, hi, I don't like the dark. Or strangers. Or strangers in the dark. But it was actually really good. I weaved in and out through the city, across four of the main bridges and through campus. I brought my cell phone in my iPod arm band, just in case (since I DON'T have an iPod).

I left for my run after a two-hour phone conversation with The Fiance - and let me tell you, talking on the phone is not something we do very well. But last night we had a really good conversation, and I felt great afterward - which made the run that much better.

During the last stretch of the 5.5-mile run, I still felt strong, so I added in the 100-meter stride outs. All with NO shin pain. Well, a little shin pain in the beginning, but it subsided. And for extra entertainment, I got howled at by a girl in a passing car, some guy quacked "AFLAC" as he drove past, and an out-of-towner at a bar celebrating "The World's Greatest Aviation Celebration" took my picture as I ran past. Yes, good day, sir. Fancy a girl covered in sweat?

Bizarre.

So when I got home, I tried the whole soaking-in-a-tub-of-ice-cold-water thing, and it felt goooood. A little chilly, but my legs loved it. Then I iced my shins, hopped into bed and watched another episode of Dawson's Creek.

FABULOUS.

Not working according to plan.

Running Log:
Today: 6 miles, repeat 100s
Yesterday: REST
Tomorrow: 4 miles

So I didn't run last night. Instead, I iced my sore shins and watched four episodes of Dawson's Creek on DVD. Hmm. Fun.

I'm frustrated as Hell about my shins. The pain goes away just long enough to get in some really good runs, and then it comes back with a vengeance. So I'm going to attempt what was supposed to be yesterday's workout today, and see what happens. But it looks like rain, which isn't much of a shocker since it's been raining EVERY DAY. And I hear it's supposed to get hot again.

Seriously. This is not my week.

Running zen?

I came across this link in another running blog today, and found it interesting. I don't know if I buy into it, and it's a little cheesy, but it's worth reading.

Read about the Zen of Running here.

Crap.

Running Log:
Today: 6 miles, 100-meter repeats
Yesterday: 3.1 miles
Tomorrow: 4 miles

So, I'll just chalk last night's run up to my being a horrendous runner. Or something. I tried going out for a run at about 6:00, only to be met by severe storm clouds about three blocks into the little jaunt. So I turned around and went home. And ate. And tried again an hour later.

Bad idea.

My belly was still full, so for the entirety of my 3.1-mile run, I wanted to throw up. Also my shins hurt. And that mixed with my complete inability to have motivation for anything as of late made for the shittiest run ever. I made it through, though. Barely. And not without wanting to vomit.

And now my shins hurt. DAMMIT.

Other than ALL OF THAT, the run itself wasn't terrible. Well, the scenery, anyway. It had just stormed, so the ground was full of puddles and the air had cooled - which was nice. Everyone was outside catching their last few moments of fresh air before dark. And because it was near dark, the street lights were on and most of the neighborhoods were pretty still. So that was nice.

Now if only my legs weren't absolute pieces of worthless crap. I might have to take a rest day today, and resume the training schedule tomorrow. We'll see.

Couples inspiration.

We met another couple Saturday night who are training for a March marathon in Atlanta. It was exciting to chat with them a little bit about their training - it's the first marathon for both of them.

It's always so much more exciting to talk to others who are going through the same thing, or who have gone through it already, than it is to sit and ponder it in my head. And imagine how awful it will be. And how badly I wish I didn't have to drag myself through 26.2 miles again.

But it's motivational to hear the excitement in other people. I recently read the LiveJournal of a fellow blogger who trained for the Chicago Marathon in 2004. I loved reading it, and re-living the experience with her. So hopefully others can get a little motivation from this. Or hopefully I can look back on this after Marathon #2, and remember why I decided to do it. Again.

Not too shabby.

Running Log:
Today: 4 miles
Yesterday: 7 miles
Tomorrow: 6 miles

So the weekend was full of good running. Sort of. Saturday's three-ish miles went alright. It was hot. I hate running in heat. We ran the route through the park, along the lake, which I generally enjoy, just not in the middle of the day when the sun is beating down. But at least we got it checked off our list.

Yesterday, however, was good. It was hot. It was 7 miles. But we both felt good. We did it in pretty good time, too: an hour and eight minutes, just under 10-minute miles. We ran the trail for this one because it's easier on the legs. So far my shins are behaving. After work today I've got a solo four-miler, so here's to hoping it's nice and cool outside.

Red shoelaces.

So The Fiance got a pair of red shoelaces in the mail last week. They came from New Balance, and were a "congratulations on signing up for your first marathon" gift. (And I wonder where mine were last year?)

So they're red. They say "New Balance" and "LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon" along both sides in bold, black letters. The point of these laces, apparently, is that the New Balance crew will be at the finish line of the marathon, and if they "spot" you wearing your red shoelaces, you receive a prize, of sorts.

In the spirit of sharing, he gave me a lace. So now we both have a red shoelace laced into our right shoe. I'm pretty sure this means we're going to win. The marathon, that is.

I'm extremely superstitious, and believe in good luck charms and all that business, so I have a good feeling about these red shoelaces.

Diary of a first marathon.

This is the article that was published in the local newspaper, that I may or may not work for, after A.J. and I finished the Chicago Marathon in 2005. It's been mildly edited to protect the innocent. Or something.

I still get goosebumps reading it. And remembering.

It took four hours and 48 minutes, but they made it
By Krista and A.J.
of (local newspaper)

Staffers A.J. and Krista ran their first marathon—the Chicago Marathon—on Sunday, October 9. Here’s the account of their 26.2-mile journey:

MILE 1
Krista: So, this is great. The crowd is wild; I'd totally run a marathon again. And why are men jogging off the course to relieve themselves already? Good thing I can hold it.
A.J.: I'm the Energizer Bunny and I'm going to conquer this city! You should feel the adrenaline in this huge mass of people.

MILE 2
Krista: One down, 25 to go! I can't believe I'm doing this. And I also can't believe I'm going to be running for at least another four hours. Oh well, I feel like I could go forever.
A.J.: They love us, they really love us! Thanks to our iron-on letters spelling out our names across powder blue tank tops, it feels like the whole city is urging us on.

MILE 3
Krista: People are cheering our names! That's awesome! I knew it was a good idea to put our names on our tank tops. We're so fashionable. That's what this is about, right?
A.J.: The weather is perfect, my fellow runners are friendly, and everyone's chattering. I've never felt better!

MILE 4
Krista: This is fun. I'm actually having fun running a marathon. Unless tragedy strikes, I'd totally do this again. I think.
A.J.: Already mile four? I can handle this … I think I'll register for next year's run after the race. Chicago: You're the best.

MILE 5
Krista: We are completely on target with our time. I guess 18 weeks of training paid off.
A.J.: I thought by now the mass of runners would spread out, but we're either passing or getting passed by folks left and right. It's definitely close quarters.

MILE 6
Krista: Funny that my shirt reads "Krista," yet people keep yelling Kristin, Kristi, or Kristina. Oh well, it's the spirit that counts. Spectators are awesome.
A.J.: About a quarter of the way there, and we're both going strong. We trained 18 weeks for this.

MILE 7
Krista: Nice, less than 20 miles to go. That just seems unnatural to me. Who runs that far?
A.J.: You should see this city. I feel like we're running circles around the Sears Tower. We turn a corner, and there it is. We cross a bridge, and it's off in the distance.

MILE 8
Krista: I really can't get over how good I feel. I think I can actually pull this off. Hey buddy, the name is Krista.
A.J.: The signs, the spectators, the camaraderie. We're just soaking it all in as we tour this enormous city on foot.

MILE 9
Krista: Only one more mile until our first "milestone"—10 miles. I could go for some Gatorade.
A.J.: We just passed Wrigleyville ... though I didn't notice the stadium anywhere.

MILE 10
Krista: Success! Ten miles down, another ten to go. Then, of course, that nasty 6.2 miles. I should start paying attention to the scenery.
A.J.: We decided to break the marathon into three runs, to make it feel like it's less than 26.2 miles. So, two 10-milers and a 6.2-mile run were our divisions.

MILE 11
Krista: I bet the Kenyans are finishing right about now. Lucky.
A.J.: Bring it on, Chicago! We're going to conquer you!

MILE 12
Krista: Are the miles getting longer? I wish the sun would go away. At least the breeze helps—and the crowd, if they would start getting my name right.
A.J.: So, this is the distance of one of our favorite local runs. It helps to put these miles into perspective by recalling our training runs.

MILE 13
Krista: Oh sweet halfway point. Wait, I have to run this distance all over again? OK. Just smile and breathe, or so I'm told.
A.J.: In all the miles we've logged building up to this day, I've never experienced a side cramp. Well, here's a big one. I feel like I can't even stand up straight. If you'd asked me a mile ago, I would have said I'll whip this marathon. Now, I can't handle the pain.

MILE 14
Krista: Smiling ... breathing ... I might still have a handle on this.
A.J.: OK. The cramp is almost completely gone. A ton of stretching mid-stride and deep breaths brought me through it nearly unscathed. I hadn't anticipated that!

MILE 15
Krista: OK the miles really are getting longer. I just need to make it five more miles. Once I'm past the 20-mile mark, the end is so close.
A.J.: We're running alongside the Eisenhower Expressway, right toward the Sears Tower. Is that building everywhere in this city?

MILE 16
Krista: Ten more miles to go. Can I do this? I can do this. Wait, can I? I think I might just stick to half-marathons after this.
A.J.: I'm taking it easy with the hydration. Small sips should keep me sustained through the rest of the run.

MILE 17
Krista: So that "wall" they speak of, I think I'm about to hit it. At least the spectators are starting to call me by the right name.
A.J.: So, this is Little Italy. That reminds me: I could go for a dish of pasta right about now.

MILE 18
Krista: Did that guy just say I'm almost there? Almost where? The end? I'm sure. Eight miles is hardly almost there. Yeah, keep drinking your coffee and waving.
A.J.: Oh, PowerGel, where for art thou PowerGel? The little packets of semi-gross, goopy carbohydrates and calories are waiting for us somewhere in this mile.

MILE 19
Krista: Almost there ... almost there ... almost there ...
A.J.: The cheerleading teams stationed along the course have been handing out strings of beads. I just handed mine off to a guy riding his bike. In return, he lifted his sweatshirt in true Mardi Gras fashion. Any other day, that would have been funny. Today, I hardly registered the humor.

MILE 20
Krista: Seriously. Six more miles? Just keep putting one leg in front of the other.
A.J.: Well, this is as far as we've run in our marathon preparation. From here on out, it's uncharted territory.

MILE 21
Krista: What was I thinking?! Where's my mom? Dad?
A.J.: This is getting rough. But at least we're done with our second "mini-run" of the day. All that remains is 6.2 miles. We can do it.

MILE 22
Krista: Must have more water… and Gatorade… and more water. I don't think I can do this.
A.J.: I can't decide if I appreciate the spectators yelling encouragement or if I want to tackle them. They look so at ease clutching their Starbucks cups and snuggled in cozy sweaters and jeans.

MILE 23
Krista: Ha! Only three more miles? Is that what you said, guy over there with the warm coat and stupid encouragement sign? You run it then. Stupid spectators.
A.J.: Whose stupid idea was this marathon? The signs proclaiming all us marathoners as "crazy" were right.

MILE 24
Krista: Must finish. Almost there. Do I feel a second wind coming?
A.J.: A girl stopped us at a water station to tell us she just vomited and didn't think she could make it any further. She was white as a ghost. You couldn't force me to quit now.

MILE 25
Krista: I'm still moving. My muscles might burst, but I'm still going. I don't know if I should cry, throw up or pass out.
A.J.: OK. just bear down. I can barely feel it anymore, anyway. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Don't stop now!

MILE 26.2
Krista: I can see it. The end. I'm about to finish the Chicago Marathon. I actually did it. Oh, here come the tears ...
A.J.: The finish line: The most beautiful sight we'll ever see. The announcer proclaims "You have just finished the Chicago Marathon." Tears flow as Krista and I, hand-in-hand, cross that finish line. We did it!

I've got three months. And one day.

Running Log:
Today: 4 miles
Yesterday: 10-minute warmup, fartlek 1-2-3-2-1, 10 minute cooldown
Tomorrow: 7 miles

Because I need public scrutiny, and motivation to get my butt onto the pavement (or grass, trail), I need this blog to keep track of the next three months of training. We, the Fiance and I, are signed up for the Chicago Marathon on Oct. 22. I ran it last year. It was amazing(ly hard), and needed to do it again (because I yearn for masochism). He needed a goal. A big goal. And what better (ridiculous) goal than to run 26.2 miles?

Exactly.

We'll be trekking four miles this evening. It's cool out, should be nice. Remind me of that when I'm done, and my shin hurts, and I want to hurt whoever is within close proximity.

Until next time...