OK, I got a minute....

It has been almost a year since my last 5k. I truly love a longer distance race like a half or full marathon so much more, but since participating in the S3 (explosive training) program at my gym, I decided to see if all the hard work paid off. When I first signed up for this training a couple of months ago, I noticed my long distances were suffering because my legs were so fatigued due to the excessive hamstring and glutes conditioning exercises. The trainers insisted my sprints and quick runs would improve, and that I would find a new way to utilize my legs when I get to the point that I am "breathing blood" in a race. Apparently my "quick twitch" muscles will get more active and "propel" me better toward the finish line. And eventually the long distances came back to me better than ever.
Now I am not your typical runner, I am of a bigger build...only been running consistently for about two years....I do a lot of weight training and other disciplines (I am doing a triathlon in June). I overpronate and my gait isn't as efficient as I would like. But despite these setbacks, I love to run and I won't allow the negative to invade my "zen" when I am on the road with the wind at my back. I will concede that the suicide sprints in S3 replaced my intervals, the relays were my "repeats", and the sledding we do on the field and in the gym replaced my "fastest paced" short runs. To make a long story short, I am not fast. I will never be fast, but I had it in my mind that if I could get to a place where I could maintain the sidestitch and the panic for 3.1 miles, then I certainly can wipe 15 minutes off my marathon times. This is logic to me. Please don't laugh:).
My best 5k in a race was 27:50, my best 5K on the treadmill was 26:and change. I wanted a 26:15 this weekend. I chose a local 5K that was on the small side, and the route is actually on the streets I run every week. I looked at the previous year's results, and I came to the conclusion I could have a slim chance of obtaining third place if I really put myself into this thing. I went to bed early the night before, and I set my alarm for well over an hour before my husband and I would have to leave for the race. I wanted to make sure I didn't have any GI issues, and I need to fuel up and hydrate so food and water wouldn't be scapegoats for me later when I wanted to rationalize my poor performance. My husband and I ran 2 and a half miles to the race site (which, in retrospect, supports my theory that I always do better in a race...no matter the distance...with a short warm-up run) and we took our places at the start.
I purposely downloaded the fastest songs on my iPod whether I liked them or not, and put a key song at the end of the playlist. The key song would be my warning that I wasn't going to achieve my goal. I had all the music timed out perfectly (comes back to bite me in the butt, but I digress). I would not wear my Garmin, I would not look at times, and in fact, I was going to try to avoid visualizing the mile markers (yeah, right).
The race starts and I take off like a wild woman, elbowing my way through the slower folks (although I am the one usually being elbowed). My husband disappears from my view, because he is on his way to a PR. "You are too fast," I tell myself. This is where my brain gets multiple personality disorder--"Slow Down" "NO! I can't!" "Yes, you can--just ask your legs, they will agree with me." "No, my legs feel just fine." "Are you sure"? "We HATE this song, fast forward to the next song." "No, I don't even want to waste the energy lifting up my arm and pushing the button." "This gum sucks, spit it out." "NO! I am not stopping for water, I need this gum." And it continued like this until mile 2.5, where my husband warned me not to look at the finish (I am running parallel to it and I have to cross a huge field and then one lap around a track to reach it). What do I do? I look at it. The finish line is so far away, that the brilliance from the sun would take a gazillion light years just to cast a small shadow on it.
It is at this point I knew I was going too fast, but I couldn't slow down. I had a big cramp in my side and sweat was pouring into my eyes. I remembered one of the S3 trainers saying to pull strength from the hamstrings and glutes. He said runners have overdeveloped quadriceps and that could be an undoing in a situation such as a 5K. So I focused on swinging my pelvis more and pulling from my behind. It worked. I am on the field headed for a hill that I had to climb to get to the actual track. A lady I passed before caught me in the lane next to mine. She looked to be about my age--I thought I was kissing third place good-bye. I was concentrating so hard on keeping it together for the race, I didn't really notice anyone else. My husband was on the side waving at me, but at this point I couldn't muster up the energy to even acknowledge his presence.
Then I saw it. I saw the time clock. I couldn't believe my eyes. I thought it was a mistake. 25:00? Me???? I was yards away and I had to have it. I just fight back my urge to vomit and I lengthen my stride. I am getting closer. I am there. I hear the "beep" crossing the mat, and my husband yelling, "25:32". Really? Did I really just do that? I am heaving, hands on knees...the lady who passed me up comes over and says, "Thanks for giving me that final push." I tell her, "Good race". I get some water and cheer on the other runners coming in. My husband wants to stay for the results, so we wait. We talk to other runners, I get a banana. I congratulate a 12-year-old girl who beat me by 20 seconds. My husband goes to look for the results, and this woman comes up to me and engages me in conversation. He returns with a big grin on his face. He is holding one finger up. I scream, "YOU GOT FIRST PLACE???"...."No," he says, "You do; I got third." I said, "No way!" He insists it is true.
The closest I have ever come to placing in a race was maybe 6th or 7th. I never expected first. BUT, in fairness, it was a small race...and my age division was just very kind to me that fair Saturday morning. I am COVETING my new 5k time. I don't feel that slow anymore. I received a gold medal and news that I beat the second place winner by just three seconds.
I had the best run home. I am shooting for 24 next time.

I DID IT!!! A PR AND A GOLD MEDAL

I actually want to dedicate a portion of this blog entry to that S3 class which has had me at personal odds from DAY ONE. I guess if you stay with it, it pays off...and pay off it did. This slow long distance runner participated in her first 5k in almost a year--and not only received a PR, but I got first place in my age division. Shaved better than 2 minutes off my personal best, and if I didn't have guests...I would say more....promise to do it tomorrow. I am on cloud nine.

Carrying on the Tradition

I spoke with my father yesterday. We were trying to coordinate times for his visit today, and he made mention that some of us never had the luxury of "sleeping in" and "not having to worry about our children getting off to school in the morning." He is referring a telephone call several weeks ago when he and my mother called to wish one of my children a happy birthday before she departed for school in the morning. I was half-asleep when I answered the phone and I know I sounded otherwise groggy. Mind you, my children all are very independent and get themselves dressed, fed and off to school in the morning. They have a system, and it works. And it allows me to "sleep in" until 7:30.

I told him they are good kids, and that they have an "ecosystem" within the house. Everyone knows what chores belong to whom, and that it is expected to be done before that child leaves for school in the morning (not the afternoon chores, but the simple morning chores such as making lunch and doing ponytails, etc.). He asked how I was able to do that, and I simply replied that the children were held accountable and they knew their personal responsibilities. He lamented why he couldn't ever have my brother and I to adhere to any such "system", and that I was a "lucky" person. Memory is short--my bother and I got ourselves off to school just fine, thank you. Way after my parents left for work. I then said that my youngest son was a bear, and a very difficult child to deal with whereupon he exhaled and said, "GOOD." "Good?" I replied. "How can you wish such a thing on me?" I am thinking how he could wish such a thing on anyone. He thinks I was a terrible child. I was oppositional and defiant. I was disobedient and irresponsible. I take ownership of that, absolutely. But I am also of the school of thought that children are very much the reflection of their environments and the embodiment of the examples set before them.

I refuse to blame myself for some of the behaviors my parents have assigned to me. I take personal responsibility when my own children misbehave or if they indicate a negative thought process or behavior. I am their role model, after all. But what gets me is, how you can still hold a grudge against a 38-year-old mom of six kids--4 of whom are schoolaged and all 4 on the A/B honor roll--when she is a responsible, loving mother? Why do my parents still bring up the same old shit, and feel the need to remind others of it? Don't they realize this is a direct reflection of thier own parenting skills? Still, they insist it is a genetic thing...that they had no input.

This "vagrant" young lady...Navy veteran, Registered Nurse, Happy Mother, Efficient Mother...

I have that 5K tomorrow. For once it would be nice to be a winner. But I bet if I bring home a medal, my parents would simply say, "You are going to ruin your knees."

They have never been to one of my marathons. They have never been there for any of my races.

I promise as long as I am on this earth, that I will be there for each and every one of my childrens' accomplishments if feasibly possible...and that I will at least be on the phone for them.

I am so ashamed that at my age, I still would love the support of my parents in this way. I need to learn and let it go.

Pathetic.

Possible 5K to Consider

There is a 5k this Sunday near my neighborhood, and I searched the results from last year. Turns out I would have placed second in my age division, so I am considering the challenge this time around. Hopefully no big guns turn out, and I may get a potholder or something, lol!! My 5k time hasn't been a focus since before my last two marathons, but I think I can rally. We shall see. I have been working so hard on the multi-disciplines, that it's been nearly a year since I competed in a 5k.

I ran a modest 3.31 today with a slower than average pace and still had energy to spare for lats, chest, shoulders and back. Finished with some good hamstring exercises and quads. Life is good.

Thankfully the weather has been cool, inseasonably so. I am considering swimming in the late afternoon and churning out a mile.

Oh, by the way...I splurged last night and had a little ice cream cake. I am going to hell, lol!

FRUSTRATION and WHAT TO DO?????

S3 kicked my ass today. We pushed a sled across the field outside, and LORD HAVE MERCY what a buttkicker! Then we had to relay medicine balls and use bands around our ankles to go across the field, only to sprint to the beginning and do it all over again 2 more times. Then we had some repetitions in the weight room with pull ups, presses, triceps and biceps...now I don't know if I really want to quit this class~~~what do I do? I was literally breathing blood and my heart got pumping; I couldn't even speak at times. And this is an ANAEROBIC CLASS! If they implement more of this type of training, there is no way in the world I wouldn't be ripped. I m going to have to throw it by the man and see what he says. Another hundred bucks of personal training, and I don't know if he wants to swing that...especially when he thinks I can do it all on my own, anyhow. But I do love the class atmosphere. It is organized and fast paced, and there is no room for distraction.

The only thing that seems to be lagging a little is my running; I know I am not logging the miles that I usually do, but I don't have any long distance races coming up...so why sweat it?

Too Good To Be True?

I did it. I surpassed hubby's expectations (and mine). You think you know yourself pretty well--but I never give myself enough credit for certain things. I completed a swim mile, and it was easy as pie. I just felt like, "Is that it?". Bob was amazed, he said; "See? See how the running has conditioned you?"

Truth is, I was always a good swimmer. I just never treated it as a long distance activity. So I am at week two, with only 30 laps to complete slowly...and I cranked out 36 with the last four a sprint and WOOHOO WOOT! Well shit peoples! I live in Florida, practically grew up on the beach. So I did the swim mile, hopped on the bike for 5...then a quick 8 minute mile sprint running. It's good! It isn't impossible! Now I am feeling competitive. I have to squelch that.

It is such a shame that at 38, I found something I truly like. What would have been the options had I been younger?

Busy day today, feeling like I am 18 again--no shit. I would love to spread the love about fitness.

Chocolate Pudding, Triceps and a "Shout Out" to Soleslide for reading my blog

And never forget Johnny:). I am on day one of this miserable nutrition plan and already I an HATING IT. I already know I can't follow it perfectly--that would require me not to use my artificial sweetener in my coffee and the obliteration of my precious cottage cheese (yeah buddy, try and pry that from my cold, dead hands). I did really well today, and my triceps are literally trembling like scared little girls after my afternoon workout. I am DETERMINED to get stronger. I just don't want to be that Athena placing in my category, I want to be that woman placing...period.

My husband made chocolate and vanilla pudding tarts topped with fresh berries tonight. ***SIGH*** Now he is on my shit list because I can't indulge. I am following this thing through, I assure you. Your girl is out for a 10 miler tomorrow. The mission is, "NO SUFFERING OR WANTING TO QUIT". Translated, "pace yourself, or you will blow your wad and be a pussy."

I have to make this short and simple---I am putting highlights in my hair for the long journey back to my blondeness. The brunette was fun for a change, but it really isn't me.

OH! Before I head out--please pray for my Lindsay's soccer coach. He kept her on the bench for 75% of her game today for no good reason. Lucky her stepdad was there and not me--cooler heads wouldn't have prevailed. Nobody puts Lindsay in the corner!