on the iPod: "We Found Love" -- Power Girl
It had been eight days since i'd last ran when Mrs. Murie and I headed out for a 13 miler on Saturday morning. Eight days that seemed more like 80. Because of a pretty substantial head cold that had been lingering for more than a couple of weeks, I had to bail on last weekend's training run. I didn't want to, but it had to be done. Those eight days away from running was the longest time that I can remember going without lacing up.
Feeling much better, it didn't take more than 100 yards before the hiatus was a mere blip on my memory and I was once again going stride for stride in preparation for tackling my third marathon. Despite the extremely mild winter that Northwest Arkansas continues to enjoy, gloves and a hat were in order as the mercury registered in the upper 20's. With the sun shining down and the air crisp and cold, one could argue that another weekend tailor-made for distance running was here. God must be a runner, and he must like training in the winter. Indeed.
As i've opined before, Mrs. Murie is the planner of our group. Especially when it comes to getting in whatever mileage is needed on any given Saturday. She usually emails me starting around Wednesday in preparation for that weekend, and we'll banter back and forth electronically until we've devised a route and time. It's a process that i've grown to love, as we both give and take a bit: I like to go early, she likes to sleep in. I prefer to run toward Dickson Street, she's a fan of heading out to Lake Fayetteville. I tend to wear as little gear as possible, she layers up. She always has some sort of protein on hand and money for water, I'm never prepared. Yes, it's fair to say that ours is a friendship based in mutual respect, but it's more than that as well. It's also a deep and passionate love for distance running.
Against my better judgement, but within the spirit of compromise, I agreed to a minor deviation from our usual route. We've both been told that the Nashville course is deceptively hilly, and to that end we've both also committed ourselves to deliberately throwing in extra hill work in an effort to be prepared. So when Mrs. Murie emailed that she wanted to run Wilson Park not only once, but twice, I reluctantly agreed as the sickening feeling in my stomach grew. I knew that this was gonna hurt. I knew that this was gonna kick my ass.
And it did.
Oh yes, there would be consequences for these added inclines, and my upper legs were the casualty. My left thigh started cramping in mile 9. My right thigh started cramping in mile 10. By mile 11 I was ready to throw in the towel and walk shamefully back to Starbucks like a little girl. And if I would have been alone I probably would have done it. But I couldn't let Mrs. Murie down in only this fourth week of training, so I laced up my Big Boy shoes and kept going despite the cramps. And just for the record, leg cramps suck. So Mrs. Murie doesn't know it yet, but we're going to have a Come To Jesus Meeting about our hill strategy for this marathon training thing. All whining and pouting aside, it feels sooooo good to be training again. It makes me happy.
On a somewhat related note, I've got a new carb supplement that is now my go-to for anything over 10 miles. I found it for the first time at an aid station in the middle of Dallas White Rock last month and instantly fell in love. Coffee flavored gel! WOOT! A quick history of my carb consumption: two years ago when all this distance running started, I would eat a peanut-butter protein bar before leaving the house. I wasn't necessarily brand-loyal, but I do remember buying the Power Bars fairly frequently. They were like chewing on styrofoam. The Luna bars were mildly more palatable, but they were marketed toward women and I didn't want to turn in my Man Card every time I had to buy more, so I stuck with Power Bar. Then Mrs. Pugh and Mrs. Murie turned me on to Gu Chomps, which are pretty much a giant-sized gummy bear. These things pretty much rocked my face off for quite some time, but they tended to get stuck in my teeth and made me thirsty. Not good. So then I found vanilla-flavored Power Gel and never looked back. I know plenty of runners that bitch about the texture of gels, but I liken it to something comparable to a thick pudding. And the advent of this new coffee-flavor seals the deal. It even has the perfect name. See below...
On another somewhat related note, in the midst of trying to find a good trail to run while in Little Rock this week, I tweeted at Leah Thorvilson. A native Arkansan and elite runner who lives and trains in our capital city, she recently placed 55th in the Olympic Marathon Trials in Houston. I sent the tweet on a whim, and then thought better of the idea, not wanted to come off as some weirdo creeper. But she graciously tweeted back and for about 10 minutes I felt proud that such an amazing athlete responded. I was smitten. I also saw the image below that she had tweeted out and got a good laugh.
Next weekend we're slated for a 10 miler. I'd rather be going 14 or 15, but the training plan says 10, so I suppose that's what we'll do. Somehow i'm going to have to talk Mrs. Murie into laying off the hill work for a week or two until my thighs have time to heal. I think she'll go for it, especially if I cave a little bit so she can sleep in. It's all about give and take. And doing anything it takes for a good run.
No comments:
Post a Comment