Way back a year ago when I started to toy with the idea of running a marathon, I swore I would be one and done. Just to say I had done it. And I did. Then I turned around and signed up for another one, like some sort of lunatic. I know. Who does that? A crazy person, but I really wanted to run the Chicago marathon because it's a historic event, and I've lived in Chicagoland my whole life so what better way to see my city than by running through it?

This meant that the only month I didn't train for a marathon was May and that was because I had just run a marathon. This may come as a surprise to you, but that's actually really tiring. No, I take that back. This summer was great. Sure, I was running 5 days a week, but I didn't have to work. Still, there was an element of already being weary of the runs dictating my life, but I enjoyed it. Then I had to go back to work at the same time that my runs increased mileage wise and also, this has been a really tough school year. EXHAUSTED. My 4AM runs were not effortless. They hurt. I was so tired. I would lie in the dark and want to cry at the thought of getting up to run. I was super excited for taper week, then the morning after my last Saturday run, my body started to fall apart. When I got out of bed on Sunday, it hurt to step on my left foot. I iced it, stayed off of it and by Monday morning, it still hurt. It felt okay when I ran, but walking was pretty painful. I panicked about a possible stress fracture or serious strain (especially because I had just stopped taking Cipro and among other things, that can cause tendonitis), then on Wednesday morning, I stepped out of bed to knotted calves and foot pain all over. Ahh, hello plantar fasciitis flare-up. I skipped my Wednesday run (my last pre-race run) and taped my feet, along with all of my other magic tricks. It got slowly better as the week progressed, but my feet were still not 100% by race day. More than anything, the mental state that I was in drove me nuts. I felt like all of my training was for nothing because my feet and legs would not stop hurting.

All of my taper week stress aside, I trained with much of the same group that I trained with last time, plus some new people. Initially, it felt fragmented because we were all on different plans and different schedules, so I ran alone a lot. Then we got it figured out and started meeting before the actual group runs and that was great. It's rare to meet other people willing to run in the dark on a Saturday!

So, on to the actual race and surrounding events.
Chicago Marathon Expo
I've never been to an expo before a big race, but this was an event in itself. Barb went up with me, which was awesome because we spent a great afternoon together AND her head wasn't in taper fog like mine. The streamlining of the process was incredible. They scan you race ticket, then tell you which booth to go to, at which point your bib and everything is ready to be handed over. Then you get your shirt at the back of the expo and theoretically, you could leave after that... but with hundreds of running related booths to explore, who wants to do that?! I could have easily dropped hundreds of dollars there, but I kept it under $50 and only bought a Many Magnificient Miles shirt and a Goose Island commemorative pint glass. There was this incredibly tempting Northface sweatshirt with the marathon date on the sleeve and in hot pink and orange, but I told myself that I could not buy a $55 sweatshirt. Except that true to form, all I can think about now is how I should have bought that sweatshirt. Figures. After the expo, we went to Tufano's where I had delicious mushroom rigatoni. Oh, and on the way, we got stuck in a parade, which was hilarious. We also drove over part of the course and that was really cool, too. Then I hurried home and went to Luke's baseball game, where his team won the fall ball championship (a mother runner never gets to rest, right?).


Race morning
The night before the race, we took the boys to Shane's parents' house, so I went to bed pretty early. Fortunately, since my alarm was set for 3:30 because the bus was leaving at 4:55 on the dot. So early, but so worth it to ride up with my running group and avoid the nightmare that would be driving into the city on race day. Everyone was pretty subdued on the bus ride up. I mostly just spent my time quietly thinking about the race and willing my feet to stop hurting. We got up there at 5:55, two hours before the race started. It took us a good hour to navigate from the museum campus to go through security checkpoints and finally get near our corral. We staked out an area near the portapotties and watched the sun rise over Lake Shore Drive. It was still pretty cool temperature wise at this point, and I kept reminding myself to embrace the cool because I knew it would be much warmer by the time I finished. As we were in line for the last bathroom break, the National Anthem was sung, signaling that the elites were about to start. This was a very neat moment. After that, we headed into corral J, which seemed so far back yet was somehow not even the last corral.
Miles 1-10
After this, we slowly started shuffling forward bit by agonizing bit, finally crossing the start line at about 8:20. And we were off! They say that Chicago is great because the crowds keep you from going out too fast, but I still felt like I was flying. Side note: the first tunnel is disgusting because every guy in the world stops to pee on the walls and dudes, just because you can pee anywhere you want doesn't mean that you NEED to pee everywhere you want because the river of urine was nasty. I'd been warned by a few people that you can't rely on your GPS early on due to the tunnels and tall buildings, so when my GPS told me I was running 4 minute miles to start with, I figured it would straighten out eventually (spoiler alert: it didn't). The early stages of the race were through the financial district, where it was shady and cool... and the streets were packed with spectators squeezed between the high rises. I was running with my friend Susan at this point and we were laughing over our favorite signs. At mile 2 or 3, I saw my friend Megan and then Sarah shortly afterward, followed by my running coach. In every case, I only saw them because they screamed my name--there are just so many people! I did not see Shane and found out later that he was on the opposite side of the street and only knew he missed me because he ran into Sarah and she told him.
My favorite part of the early race stages was definitely Wrigleyville and Boystown. I loved high-fiving all of the Cubs fan and laughed t the signs that read: "If the Cubs can make the playoffs, you can run a marathon." Boystown was like a party, featuring an all-male baton twirling troupe that made me want to just stop and hang out. After that, we looped back around into Lincoln Park which is very pretty--and which was the start of my first half marathon four years ago. Shortly after this, we ran past a nursing home where all the residents were lined up at the windows waving. This was super cool and I waved the whole way through. At Lincoln Park, I was still feeling pretty strong and hanging with the 4:40 pace group. The female pacer was really engaging, but I lost the group when I stopped for water at mile 10. At this point, my feet and legs were starting to hurt, which was a concern because it was still early in the race. My GPS was also still way off, showing that I was 2 miles ahead of the numbers on the course and not reflecting any sort of pace. At this point, I turned it so it was just a watch because it was stressing me out more than anything. Although I don't rely hugely on my watch, I had also trained in such a way that I was used to making sure I was sticking to my average pace and I couldn't do this. This was slightly frustrating and unnerving.

Miles 11-19
This part of the race is all a blur. At some point, I looked to my right and realized my friend Reggie was running next to me. He and I ended up running together until about mile 17 when we lost each other in the crowd. He was a huge help because we walked water stops together and regrouped, then pushed each other through those huge "hit the wall miles." I knew that Sarah would be joining me at mile 20, so I was chunking the race into the number of miles left until I met Sarah. She reassured me of this at mile 17, which was enough to make me smile.

I also saw Shane and my friend Megan right after mile 17, high-fiving everyone (and almost divorcing my husband on the spot for saying, "You're almost there!"). This was a boost. Shane claims I was somewhere in this crowd.

Shortly after this, I lost Reggie in the crowd and my back started to hurt. Badly. I was out of advil and knew I would have to power through, but it was uncomfortable with every step. It was also starting to get warm. There were workers on the course spraying people down with hoses and wet sponges available, too, but the sun was full on without any shade so you didn't stay cool for long. My favorite neighborhood in this section was definitely Pilsen, a heavily Latino section of the city. It was like a huge party, complete with giant dancing puppets. My back was really hurting at this point, so I ended up on a dirty sidewalk doing a quick yoga pose to try and loosen it. In the midst of this, some woman told me I was beautiful. Chicago really does have the best spectators!

Miles 20-26
By now, my back was really hurting. I was also starting to take all sorts of food from strangers. Pretzels? Swedish fish? Orange slices? If a stranger was handing it out, I was eating it. Sarah jumped in with me shortly after mile 20, and I immediately assured her that I could not finish. She immediately assured me I would finish. At some point, I know we ran through Chinatown and even though everyone swears it's the best race party location, all I remember is this elderly Chinese man trying to cross the street in the middle of the sea of runners. That's it. I don't remember one single other part of Chinatown. My back was really hurting at this time and Sarah was encouraging me by setting minor goals, telling me I was strong and promising me there was a surprise at mile 24. I asked her if the surprise was a stretcher to wheel me off the course, in case you're wondering what sort of joyful company I was at that point in the race. At mile 24, I spotted a woman with a bag of chips and I desperately needed those chips, except that suddenly Barb appeared in front of me cheering! This was a huge surprise and a good boost, and she didn't even care that I got her all wet when I hugged her (Sarah had been dumping a lot of water on me). After this, I literally remember nothing that we ran past except that I hurt and that I was so annoyed with the massive crowds of runners. Someone told me that you can expend a lot of energy dodging and weaving at Chicago and I believe this to be true. By the end, I no longer had that energy and I think I hit a lot of people with my elbows. Sorry, other runners. The course started to get really packed with spectators at this point and right before the 2nd to last turn, they made Sarah peel off the course (we were expecting this). Right after she left, I watched security actually chase and grab a guy who wouldn't leave the course, so that was entertaining. Then all that was left was the hill up Roosevelt (GOD, what sadistic person plans a marathon that ends at a solid uphill at mile 26?). I promised myself I would not walk the hill and even though the wind was blowing directly into my face and everyone around me was walking, I powered up the hill and grimaced at the sign at the top of the hill that said 200m left. I KNEW that was only half a lap around the track, but seriously? It seemed so far away, even after turning to the left and seeing the finish line. I knew from a few peaks at the timer on my watch (the only thing still working) that I was very close to finishing under the 5 hour mark, so I really pushed it into the finish line.

And then I did it, I WAS THERE. The elation I felt at this moment was pretty high--everyone around me was cheering. I will admit that I got a little teary at this moment because the energy was just so high.

The downside to big races became quickly apparent, as I couldn't see the end to the finisher chute. I also couldn't see the medals, which was making me crazy. GIVE ME MY BLING. Finally, I got to the medals and a volunteer put one around my neck along with a congratulations (I cannot say enough about the volunteers at this race--top notch amazing). I got a Gatorade refuel drink, a bag with a bunch of chips in it and some Powerade bars, then I stopped for a beer at the Goose Island table. The only problem here was that I was too tired to put the words, "What type of beer is this?" into a sentence and I knew they had 312 OR an IPA, which I definitely didn't want, so when I said, "What is this?" The woman behind the beer table said, "Uhh... BEER?" Yeah, no kidding, lady. Fortunately the woman next to hear was a more understanding soul and said, "This is the 312" because I couldn't even process a reply. After getting my beer, I saw Reggie and found out that he finished just two minutes ahead of me. Then we began the long walk together to runner reunite, which involves stairs. STAIRS. Every single person went down them sideways, wincing.

Finally, I found Shane and Megan.


After talking for awhile, Shane, Reggie and I began the long walk back to Field Museum to meet our bus to go home. The best part about the aftermath is that it's like an episode of The Walking Dead because NO ONE can walk properly. It was painful and hilarious all at once.

So, that's that. Once again, the true lesson of the marathon is how lucky I am, from my husband and friends spending their Sunday cheering me on, to Sarah giving away her whole Sunday to not only cheer me on but to almost literally carry me for the last six miles of a race, to Barb driving into the city on a busy Sunday just to surprise me. Will I run another marathon? Hmm... yeah, probably. Will I run one this spring? NO. My body and brain need a rest! That said, although it is expensive and crowded and the weather can go any way it wants to in early October, I really, really loved Chicago. I cannot say enough how cool it was to be cheered on by perfect strangers, to have little children standing on the side of the road giving out high fives, to feel pushed through by crowd energy and excitement. Chicago is one heck of a race!

I've been wanting to run this race for a few years now, but the date never works out for me. Buckley Homestead is a living history farm near where I grew up. I spent one week every summer there for Girl Scout camp, as well as various field trips to the historical one room schoolhouse. I definitely thought this would be a neat run to do.

It is part a road run, part a trail run. The first part of the run is an out and back on a hilly country road. The crowd was small (about 150 people), so they lined us up, said "on your marks, get set… go!" and rang a cowbell. I love races like this. I probably started a little further back than I should have because I had to do a little bit of weaving at first, but I settled in pretty quickly. I've never done a five mile race before, so I wasn't quite sure how to pace myself. I also wasn't quite sure how to pace myself with it being road and trail. I knew that the trail portions would likely be harder, so I didn't want to go all out on the road. I also knew just from driving this road that there would be a big hill at the turn around point, so I didn't want to push too hard and lose it at that, too.

At mile one, my pace was somewhere around 9:27, which felt good and easily maintainable. Slower than I would be for a 5k, but it felt right for this race. After I got to the turnaround point, I started passing people who took off in the beginning, so I felt like I was definitely pacing myself well. At the three mile mark, you run back into the park. The transition from road to gravel wasn't too bad and there was a downhill right away. After that, it turns to packed dirt/mulch and you run over a bridge. Like I said, I spent so many childhood summers here as a kid that this was definitely sparking my memory. I remembered excitedly running over this bridge as a kid, and it made me smile. After this, you run up a hill and through some of the outbuildings from the original pioneer farm, then you go into the "back 40," which is all grass. I felt my legs start to struggle in the grass, but I was still passing people, so I felt like I'd made the good choice by not going all out with my pace. This part of the race was basically a little over a mile on a big grass loop. At points, there were cornfields and open meadows around me and I took this moment to marvel over what a pretty trail race it was. I was also thankful that although it was humid, it was lower temps. I could see how on a hot day, the walls created by the cornfield would make it miserably hot.

By mile 4, my legs were starting to hate the grass, especially with a couple of uphills, but I knew that I could make it through the last mile. I passed a few more people, then settled into an area where when there were turns, I wouldn't see anyone behind or in front of me. This made it really relaxing, like I was truly, honestly running my own race. After the last bit of grass, it was back to packed dirt, which was a welcome relief! The last little bit looped around the old schoolhouse, and I ran over a culvert and remembered the time that my sister tried to convince us that a child murdered lived in the culvert. Then past the outhouses, where I was always terrified that snakes lived, and finally into the home stretch (more grass!).

I finished in 47:16, 4/9 in my age group. I've never run a 5 mile race before, so this was a very easily obtained PR. That said, I'm really pleased with my time. I kept my pace consistent and dealt well with the conditions. I also, most importantly, had fun and enjoyed the run. After the race, they had tons of watermelon, cantaloupe, bagels, pretzels. I also loved that they not only had recycling stations, but they even had compost bins for the melon rinds. I usually end up taking water bottles with me after races to recycle at home (yeah, I'm that person), so it was cool to see a very eco-friendly race. Although I didn't stop at any of the water stops, there were water stops every single mile, even out in the middle of the field!

I would definitely do this race again. I loved the small friendly vibe, and I really loved the challenge posed by the race.

This is and always will be my favorite race. One, it's a half-mile from my house, meaning we can walk there. Two, it's a small race, usually capping out at about 200 participants. Three, it's laid back, like most small races. There is no technical starting line, just a starting area. You run when the firework explodes. I also love it because like I said, it's so close to my house--meaning I run those roads several times a week and could run this course with my eyes closed. I know there's a big hill at the halfway point, and I know that when the road starts to slope upward at the end that I'm almost done.
They've been doing this race for four years and I've managed to run every single year, which is pretty cool. In fact, it was the first race I ever ran, so obviously it holds a special place in my heart. While I run it, Shane usually takes the boys to playground. He also usually manages to miss me at the finish line, but this year, he swore he would get there on time.

This year was extra special because Luke wanted to run the 5k. I was a little nervous about it because although we've run 3 miles together before, we hadn't been doing it on a regular basis. Also, he was insistent that I not run with him, so I could just picture him taking a wrong turn or something crazy because I didn't know where he would be at in the crowd. In fact, I wrote his name and my cell number on his bib in permanent marker just in case. We did run the course together before the race, so I made sure that he knew the course. I also had a friend who I knew would be further back in the pack and she was going to watch out for him, too. Still, I was nervous because, you know. I'm a mom.
Luke started out the race running next to me for about 1/4 of a mile. I kept telling him he needed to fall back, otherwise he was going to crash and burn. I asked him again if he wanted me to run with him and he said, "Nope!" then fell back behind me. I was still super nervous, but tried to focus on my run. I haven't run with a watch for months and wasn't wearing one during the race, so I just tried to find a good 5k pace and settle in. I hit mile marker one at 8:50, according to the woman with a stopwatch. I still felt good, so I tried to keep my pace even. At the halfway point, there's a hill that you go up, loop around and go back down. As I was coming down the hill, I spied Luke coming up the hill. He had a super determined look on his face but managed a smile at me as I clapped and cheered for him. I couldn't believe he was that close to me and didn't know if he would be able to maintain, but seeing him relaxed me enough that I was able to just focus on finishing the run. At the two mile mark, the woman with the stop watch shouted out 17:30. I've been trying to break 28 in a 5k for awhile (and I use trying loosely here, in that it's just a goal… I haven't been doing any speed work or focused training), so I knew that if I maintained, I would most likely be able to make it.
The only thing I dislike about this race is that they don't close down the streets. I understand why because the parade starts at the same place as the 5k, so they can't exactly deny people from getting to the start of the parade--especially those in the parade who need to line up. That said, the police are very good about making sure traffic is stopped for runners; however, the exhaust fumes from the idling cars are pretty brutal. At about 2.5 miles, there's a gradual uphill that you don't notice in a car, but you definitely notice it while running. I was behind a little boy about Luke's age who was crying to his dad that he wanted to walk, but dad kept telling him that the finish line was near. I turned my head and said, "Good job, buddy! You're so close!" and got a small smile out of him. At the final push, he blew past me like I was standing still. Kids!

When I got to the final turn into the parking lot towards the finish line, I saw that the clock said 27:0x and relaxed because I knew there was NO WAY it was going to take me 50 seconds to cross the finish line. My official finish time was 27:15, which is a 5k PR for me. I ran the turkey trot two years ago at under 27, but the course was way long so my time was not at all reflected on the official time (yes, I'm still frustrated about this). My time two years ago was after coming off a rigorous half-marathon training schedule and running myself into an injury, so knowing that I can hit my goal with no speed work or training, aside from making myself get up and run five miles every morning before summer school? That is a good feeling.
And yes, Shane made it to the finish line this year. It was a good feeling to see him clapping and cheering at the end. After finishing, I grabbed a bottle of water and stood next to Shane and Tommy to catch my breath for a minute, then I headed back to find Luke. I'd just started down the sidewalk when I saw him coming and truly, I wish I'd taken my phone to capture this. He didn't see me because his face was sheer determination, arms and legs pumping. I hopped in next to him and said, "You're almost done, just around the corner!" and he kicked it in so strong that I couldn't catch him--legitimately could not catch him.

He crossed the finish line at 30:37 and hands down, I am more proud/excited about his time than mine. He was so close to a sub-30, he did way better than I expected and on so little training. He finished 5th in his age group. Aside from the boy who finished just in front of me, the other kids who beat him were 9 and 10.
After the race, he told me that he couldn't feel his legs and that halfway through, he wanted to stop and walk, but his legs just wouldn't stop moving. He's already asked me when we could run another 5k, so I registered us for Run Dirty. I think he will love a trail race!

Not to be outdone, Tommy ran the sparkler sprint for the first time. Little kids are funny because they all just fall in a perfect line and don't pass, but I loved watching him run and he loved getting a box of sparklers and a ribbon at the end.

All told, it was a perfect way to kick off our 4th of July. I am hoping next year, Shane will also run!

When I saw this one advertised, I knew I would sign up because I was going to the fest afterward. So why not? I also knew it would be a challenging course, despite being a 5k. The fairgrounds and the area surrounding the fairgrounds is hilly, so a month out, I started doing weekly hill repeats. I've been kind of lax about hills lately because I find them annoying.

The day of the race was perfect. 50 degrees, some wind, a little overcast---you couldn't ask for better running weather. And the best part? Barb was also running, which meant I had someone to chat with before the race. Shane was there, also, but it's funny to have a running buddy, too. The second best part is that instead of a t-shirt, you got a pint glass. I will use this much more than t-shirt. The race was small, only 110 people. When it comes to 5ks, I really prefer small, local 5ks. In a half marathon, if it's big, eventually you start to spread out. In a big 5k, you never spread out from the crowds of people and end up hopping around until the very end.

It was also very casual. We grouped up at the starting line, the director said, "On your marks, get set, go!" and we were off. I started out at the back of the crowd, but dodged my way to the back of the front pack pretty quickly. I wondered if this was a mistake, but I felt good, so why not? The cool thing about the course is that even though I'd just seen the course map that day, I knew exactly where it went because it was an out and back in Barb's neighborhood (past her house, actually). I liked this because I could visualize the course in my mind the entire time. Now, when Barb and I looked at the course map, it became quickly apparent that the course was going to take us on a gravel trail by her house. I've run this trail before--several times--but obviously never during a race. Gravel makes me nervous because I'm afraid I'm going to turn an ankle, so between the gravel and the hills, I could just see myself strolling across the finish line in last place.

Once I settled into my pace, I felt pretty good, although my legs were starting to protest early on in the race. Possibly at the upcoming hills. There was a short hill out of the fairgrounds, then it was across the street and into the subdivision. Now, we got to go down a really big hill, one that I sometimes do repeats on, but I knew we had to go back up it at the end, so I wasn't too excited. After going down that hill, there was a minor uphill, then we were on to the gravel path. I thought I would need to slow for the gravel, but it was pretty well packed down from all the rain we've had. I eyeballed the guy who was about 100 yards in front me and kept the same distance between us the whole time. Because of all the rain, one part of the path had water moving across it. The tall guy in front of me leapt it pretty well, but I splashed right through. It was cold. A benefit of knowing the course is that I knew that after the 1/4 mile on the gravel path, I would have to go uphill. I mentally prepared myself, but it was straight uphill on gravel and I was not feeling it, so I walked halfway up. At this point, I was at the back of the front pack where I would stay the whole time, and except for one girl pretty far back, I couldn't see any other runners. I felt like I was pretty safe to walk.
After this, I saw Barb's husband and son in her front yard. I shouted that the hill sucked, but it was really nice to see friendly faces halfway through the course. After this, we looped around and went uphill a little, then thankfully down a big, brutal hill.

When I got down a hill, I couldn't believe that we were about to loop back toward the fairgrounds. I still felt pretty good, no side stitch or anything, and it didn't seem like I was about to hit the two mile mark. Or what I assumed was the two mile mark because I didn't see any course markers out there there anywhere. After this, it was time to go back up the big hill. I made it about halfway up, then my legs started to cramp. Once again, there was no one behind me, so I figured, why not conserve my energy for the end? Although I walked part of the two hills, I started running as soon as I got to the top. After that, it was quickly back into the fairgrounds for a loop around the pond and back to the finish line. I didn't push while I was running around, but when the finish line was in sight, I could tell there was a low 28 on the screen and I wanted to end before 29. I reached down deep and pushed myself to crank forward as hard as I could. Some guy standing about 200 yards in front of the finish line shouted, "Good push!! Looking good!" which pushed me to move more. I ended up crossing at 28:32 and was the 10th female overall. Most people finished in under 40, so I feel pretty good about my place and definitely felt that if it was a flat 5k without gravel, I probably could've shaved off those 32 seconds. But for not doing any speed work and not monitoring my pace in… months? I'm thrilled with how I did. It is amazing to me how well watchless running works. I ditched my watch months ago because my feet were in a bad spot, but I'm not eager to go back to it. Last summer's 5k without a watch for two months before earned me an AG award. Last fall's half marathon without a watch earned me a 7 minute PR. I just do better without the technology weighing on my wrist. I feel better. I'm running. I don't know how fast or slow I'm running, I just know that I'm getting from point A to point B and I'm leaving all the pace obsession behind and that seems to work.

After finishing, Shane and I hung by the finish line and walked down a bit to wait for Barb to come in. I had Shane ready to get a picture of her crossing the finish line, too. The best part is that as I walked down to cheer her on, the same guy who cheered for me said, "Go Barb! Which one is Barb?" and started cheering and clapping for her, too. I love nice spectators.

Would I do this race next year? YES!! It was so much fun. Small, good crowd at the end, well organized, great swag, and a course that really made me push myself. I loved all of it.

After setting a resolution to enjoy more trail running and sign up for trail races in 2014, I jumped pretty quickly into my first official all trail race: The Ruff, Tuff and In the Buff 5k. It was sponsored by Buff Neck Gators, hence the name. No actual running in the buff, because that would've been quite cold.

When I signed up for it, I was expecting a very snowy run. I'm familiar with the trails and know they're pretty sheltered from the wind, so I knew there'd be quite a bit of piled snow. But I forgot that I lived in Indiana and Indiana weather is tricky. Sure enough, after getting somewhere around two feet of snow dumped on us, the weather warmed up and it rained. Then it cooled off a little and got icy, but not before all the rain melted about half of the snow and well, it was a mess. When I got up Saturday morning and looked at my flooded backyard, I knew it was going to be more than just a snowy trail run. And it was. There was snow, mud, ice and water flooding the trails (some great picture can be found here. At points, the water was over ankle deep and you had no choice to run through it. It was also cold. Really cold. My toes were numb before I even hit a half-mile.

Still, despite the freezing cold toes, I had a blast. I started out near the back of the pack (admittedly not a very big pack) and this is honestly not the kind of race where you can pass people. At least, not very easily. It was a double loop and for the first loop, I just fell in line behind other runners because it was slippery and hard to get used to the footing. Also, I wasn't out there to be speedy. I stopped to help up two people who slipped. I wore my watch only because I thought I would stick around afterward and run a few more miles (this is before I realized my shoes would be so waterlogged). I didn't look at it once, though. I don't even remember hearing it beep the miles, funny enough. Unlike a normal 5k where I would keep my head down and think about how I wanted to die, I took in the sights and conversed with other runners (during a 5k!). I laughed at the two young boys in front of me who splashed through the water with absolute glee and abandon. Toward the middle of the second loop, I did start passing people because there was more space and I felt a bit more sure on my footing--although I still had a few slip and slide moments where the snow would turn to water and then to ice, but despite my lack of trail shoes or anything that I probably should've had, I managed to stay upright.

I finished in just over 33 minutes, which is my slowest 5k yet, but not at all bad for a trail run in really tough conditions. I placed 4/9 in my age group. So close to that AG award, but completely okay because I wasn't out there to push it. Mostly, I just had a blast. I was cold and it was hard, really hard. I felt like I'd run much longer than a 5k because those conditions worked my entire body, but it was so much fun.

The race itself was very well-organized. It was small, maybe a little less than 100 people. There was no big back of junk and samples that I don't really want or need given. Instead, they had a table full of Buff headgear and you got to pick which one you wanted. They had portable heaters set out before and after the race, as well as hot chocolate, granola bars and bananas. For a small, inexpensive race, it was really well run and I definitely hope this happens again next year! Maybe the weather could be a little less insane, but I'm pretty sure I got to run in all elements of trail running at once. How often does that happen?

A year ago at this time, I wasn't running at all. I was counting the days since my last run. It was a number that started with two and I was going crazy, only my foot injury wasn't healing. I tried not to whine, but I'm sure I did. So when this break rolled around, I resolved to run much and often. Except that with the first week of it, I was fighting an ear infection and a sinus infection and felt so awfully run down that I didn't do much of anything, let alone running. Once I figured out what was going on, a week into it, and got to a doctor, I finally got my butt in gear.

At which point, it started to snow. Of course. I really don't like the snow. Sorry, snow lovers. That doesn't mean that you can't like the snow. I just don't. I'm made for spring, summer and flip flops. Still, I didn't let it stop me, and I went out and ran snowy trails, which were actually kind of pretty.


Albeit slippery.

Yes, that's solid ice under the snow. And yes, I need to get taller socks for winter running because the sliver of skin between my socks and tights is no good when I have to wade through knee deep snow.

The temps got colder and it snowed more. Every day that it snowed, I told Shane, "I need to go run today since I probably won't run tomorrow." I said this for five straight days in a row. My running got slower each day because the snow got deeper and my legs got more and more tired, but I averaged 22 miles last week, which I haven't done since this fall when training for a half. There is something kind of addicting about snow running. You don't have to be too concerned about your pace because you're just trying to stay upright. It's actually kind of pretty. It's really kind of cold, although I think I've figured out my perfect cold weather uniform, for anyone wondering.



Top picture: North Face Glacier 1/2 Zip
Lucy Endurance Jacket
Mizuno Breath Thermo Tights (These turn your sweat into heat--I have the Breath Thermo gloves that do the same thing, too. Magic!)
And the best ever finish line swag, a stocking cap from my fall half-marathon.
Second picture I have on the Brooks Heater Hog and the rest of my layers for the run were the same. I bought two cold weather base layers so I wouldn't have to wear the same thing constantly and do constant laundry.

Unfortunately, while this get-up is plenty warm enough in single digits or even negative single digits, it alas does not extend to feels like temps of -40, so I've been stuck inside for the past three days. My legs needed a day or two rest, but I'm ready to run today! If I had a thermal mask, I could, but I can't imagine running with something over my face. I guess I'm not THAT crazy. I have signed up for a trail run this month and next, so I'm already meeting my goal of more trail running this year… and mostly, just being a happier, more in the moment runner.

Way back in June, Barb asked if I wanted to buy her sister's bib for the Indy Monumental. They'd planned to run it together, but her sister was going to be unable to run. I told her to give me a few days to think about it, then I'd let her know. At this point, my feet were still pretty up and down. I wasn't running any more than 3 miles, my pace was all over the place and I couldn't foresee another half. Then I think I texted her back 20 minutes later and was like, You know what? I'll take it. I figured that I would start training and if my feet couldn't handle it, I wouldn't do it.
Barb told me that for $20 more I could transfer the bib from her sister's name to my name, but I was all, "Pssh. I'm cheap. And this is definitely not going to be a PR or anything." Sarah was considering doing the marathon, then decided to step down to the half so at some point, it became a kind of girls' getaway, too.

I decided to follow the TLAM Finish It half plan. I followed the Own It plan last fall and while I got a PR with it, it's also a pretty intense plan and I was definitely burned out on running by the time I was done. The Finish It plan was nice because it was somewhat more intense than some of the other lesser plans I looked at, but not so that it would kill me. And then, I'll be honest. I cut down on the week day runs. Most weeks called for 3-4 runs during the week. I only did 2. With preschool pick-up and drop off, that's all I could squeeze in. I picked the ones that I felt would be the most beneficial. I always did the long weekend runs, of course. My feet flared up a few times, but I made sure to roll them, step back if needed and always wear good shoes (Orthaheels, of course!) to work. In other words, I trained smart. Somewhere around week 7, I started to feel stronger in my running again and was seeing paces in long runs that I hadn't seen since last fall. I thought that maybe I could come close to my time last fall, which would be really cool.

Then I got up super early for a long run on a Saturday morning, with a month to go before the half. I had brunch plans with friends, so I figured I'd start out my run by doing laps around my block, then head out of my neighborhood when it got light. I do laps around my block on the mornings before work, so this is nothing new and should've been routine. On my second lap, I moved over for a car and moved right into a pothole. Normally when I roll my ankle, I can roll it back the other way, but I didn't even see this one coming. I went down, hard. Once I crawled out of the way of the car, I realized that I was hurt. I limped home crying, bleeding and swearing and realized that I wasn't going to be finishing that run. Or going to brunch. Instead I went to urgent care with a swollen ankle, where I got an unsurprising diagnosis of a sprained ankle. The doctor gave me a wrap and an air cast to wear and told me that maybe I could run again in a week, but that it would more likely be two weeks (meaning that I would miss the last two double digit runs of the training plan). I was optimistic about a week, but he was right about the two weeks. I'm not going to lie that it was incredibly defeating to be at a point where I felt like my foot issues were almost all the way cleared up, only to go and sprain my ankle. I knew it was temporary, but come on. So, I gave up on any thoughts I had of a good half marathon time and just wanted to run it and finish it without hurting myself. I did my first run a week and a half after spraining my ankle and it was in a lot of pain the next day. I let myself rest for four more days, realizing that I should've just waited until the weekend. Then I headed out for what was supposed to be 8 miles but ended up being 7.5 when my left knee and legs seized up. My ankle wasn't so bad, but my legs and knee were a mess, I can only assume from off-loading weight from my right ankle. It was painful. I didn't have much hope, but I pushed through the last two weeks of the training plan. I did feel better and better with each run, although my left knee and calves continued to bother me. I just got better at ignoring them.

The day before the race, Barb, Sarah and I headed down to Indy around 11, stopped for lunch, then went to the expo. I'd been dealing with a migraine since the day before (because why not?), but I found an amazing doctor at the expo who specializes in ART and he did some incredible maneuvers on my neck and shoulders that really helped. After that, we went to the mall where we all proceeded to go broke at lululemon, Athleta and Lucy (which may be my new favorite store). We ate dinner at Cheesecake Factory, where we shared a divine pumpkin pecan cheesecake for dessert, then we headed to Barb's brother's house, where we were staying for the night (he was also running the half). I seriously slept like a rock. I'm thanking the ART guy for this.

The weather on race day was perfect. Mid-40s at the start. I decided awhile ago that I wasn't going to run with a watch. When I ran the 5k in July, I also didn't use a watch and I really liked doing that. I've become good at running by feel and through most of this training, I've ignored the pace on my watch and don't even look at it until the very end of my run. It's not something I care about or need to know anymore. I knew that it took us a few minutes to cross the start line, so even the split clocks at each mile were meaningless to me. I found my pace, settled in and just kept going. I could tell somewhat where my pace was because I was hanging pretty close to the 4:00 pace group for the marathon, but otherwise, I was blissfully unaware. And for the most part, I felt good. I was loving the course. The spectators were amazing. There were a lot of funny signs, a lot of people high fiving and little kids and strangers cheering you on. I haven't ever run a half marathon with crowd support like this and I think it made a huge difference in my motivation.
Normally, my game plan for a half is that I run without stopping until mile 6, then I stop for water, stretch if I need to and run again until mile 9 or whenever the next water stop is. However, when I reached mile 6 on Saturday, I thought, "You know what? I still feel good. I don't feel like I need water." So I kept running. There were water stops every mile, so I knew that if I got thirsty, I could stop. I was in such a good stride and such a good place that I didn't want to stop, which is not something that has ever happened to me during a half marathon before. I was with a group of people who just kept running, too, and this was definitely a huge help. But mostly, I felt strong. Occasionally, my breathing would get a little out of control, but I was able to get it back under control. The miles seemed like they were passing by quickly because there was so much to look at and take in. I didn't really start to struggle until mile 11 or 12 and by then, I was SO close that there was no way that I was stopping for a drink. I realized that if I pushed through, I could tell myself (and anyone who will listen, hi!) that I ran the whole entire half marathon without stopping once. 2+ hours of non-stop running without slowing one single time, after this last year of injuries and wondering if I'd ever run another half again. I'm not going to lie, I started to tear up a little when I got to mile 12, but that might also be because my knee and ankle were starting to kill me.

Finally, we were almost to the end and all the spectators were cheering (seriously, best crowd ever) and saying things like, "Just two more turns, you're almost there!" and the finish line literally right around the last turn, which was awesome. Because how much does it suck when you come into that home stretch only to have the finish line be SO far away? The time on the clock said 2:09 when I crossed, which was already a PR, but I was more focused on the fact that I'd forgotten how to walk and I was seriously crashing into people left and right while trying to navigate my way through the crowd to get to where we'd all agreed to meet post-race. I found Sarah and discovered that she also PRd, then she looked up my official time (apparently she'd been trying to look me up to see what my projected finish was but couldn't remember Barb's sister's last name, because remember, I was too cheap to switch the bib?), which was 2:06:14. A six minute PR! About ten minutes later, Barb came up with a huge smile and announced a nine minute PR, so basically, this was a magic day for the three of us--none of whom set out to PR or followed a strict training schedule. It was just one of those days, one of those races where everything fell into line. Numbers and paces don't mean everything to me or much at all to be honest, but this one feels pretty good.

I don't normally run with my phone on me, but this morning, I ran on very sparsely populated country roads so I tucked it into my back pocket for safety reasons. I figured that since I had it on me, I would snap a few photos and actually update my blog for once. I didn't start taking photos until the second half of my run, figuring that if I took photos during the first four miles, I would never finish.

I've only ever done this route once. It was the last long run before my first half marathon and it was miserable. One, it was hillier than I realized and way back then, I used to avoid hills. I didn't realize that hills made you a stronger runner, even if they seemed miserable at the time, so I died on all the hills that day. Two, I got freaked out because a car pulled ahead of me and stopped, so I had to alter my route and run toward the nearest house and that threw me off. It's a really pretty, somewhat challenging route, though, so I wanted to try it again.

It starts out hilly for the first mile. A lot of up and down hills, which can be kind of scary on a country road because there aren't shoulders and some of them are blind hills. Fortunately, I saw a grand total of two cars, so I didn't have much to worry about.


After the first mile, it's just flat but there's still no shoulder and the uneven road prevents a challenge. My hips were feeling it.


I saw lots of horses

and pretty views.



I haven't run this far in months, so I just took it slow and steady. My feet are a little sore right now, but they aren't too bad. I am hopeful that I can keep these longer runs up because I miss them. I do notice they're harder on my body than they used to be, but I'm also not used to them anymore. 8 miles today felt much easier than 7 miles last week, though, so I have hope that I'll get there.

Every so often, people google search and find the sesamoiditis post that I wrote in January and ask for an update, so I suppose I should give one. In terms of sesamoiditis issues with my feet, I would say they're about 97% healed, which is AMAZING considering where I was back in the winter. Running in the Altras really helped my sesamoids. I actually wore nothing but the Altra Intuitions for months, whether it was running in them or wearing them to work. It severely limited my wardrobe, but it was the only thing that didn't leave my feet in crippling pain. Unfortunately, when my sesamoids were at their worst, I developed a secondary case of plantar fasciitis from offloading weight and walking funny. Were it not for that, I feel like I could've kept running in the Altras, but a side effect of zero drop shoes is that your calves get tight as you're adjusting to them. Tight calves irritate plantar fasciitis, so as the shoes were helping my sesamoids, my heels were getting worse. I tried to run again in my old Brooks and they felt great on my heels, but my sesamoids flared up again. Basically, I needed a Frankenstein's monster concoction between my old shoes and my new shoes where I could attach the front of my Altras to the back of my Brooks, but that wasn't an option. A whole lot of google searching later and I came across some good things on Neutral New Balance shoes. Happily, they were only $49 on Amazon, so I figured I would give them a shot.
Fortunately, they've worked really well. They've got less of a drop, which is good for sesamoiditis, but they still have a slightly built up heel so my plantar fasciitis doesn't get completely painful. Every so often, I'll step down funny and feel a flare up in my sesamoids. The plantar fasciitis is kind of on-going battle in that I have to roll my feet out and ice them all the time, but I'm still able to run. And really, the fact that I'm this far healed from the sesamoiditis is amazing to me because back in December, I could hardly walk because the pain was so crippling. So yes, there IS hope that if you're suffering from this, you can and will heal and run again!

*Alternate title: The time I ditched my Garmin for a month and learned to love running again (most days).
**Alternate title two: The one time I didn't obsess over my pace and won an age group award (caveat, it was a small 5k).
***Alternate title three: The one time I blogged about something other than books.

Because I have a foot injury that will not die (really, I'm rolling my feet on a stupid foot roller as I'm typing this), running is kind of a struggle these days still. I've learned that I'm going to have to accept that while my feet might not hurt during a run, I will have hot spots after I run or that sometimes during a run, I'll hit a spot on the pavement wrong and pain will flare up my foot. That's always fun. I have hope that this won't last forever and truthfully, they are better than they were six months ago. I need to remember that. It's just that way back in December, I had no idea that my feet would still hurt like they do somedays and that kind of sucks.

The biggest struggle has been comparing myself to myself. To where I was before I was injured to now. Before my injury, I was at my peak--running faster and further than I'd ever run, setting PRs at every distance. I expected that following my half-marathon PR, I'd knock out a bunch of 5k and 10k PRs. I didn't expect this setback, but life happens and I've done my best to accept that. Still, there are times when it's hard when I'm struggling to run at a pace that would've been so easy before. I knew that I was rebuilding, but I'm also only human and I missed when those paces were easy.

So I decided to ditch my watch for the entire month of June and just run. I mapped out all the routes between 2 and 4ish miles from my front door and back to my neighborhood. I tried my best to not look at the clock when I left because I knew that if I did, I would try and figure out my pace. I didn't stress if I had to walk or if I got stopped by traffic. I just ran. The more I did it, the more in-tune with my body I became. On one run, I could tell that I was pushing it when I stopped for traffic and my heart and feet were pounding harder than usual. Before, I would've known instantly by looking at my watch and I maybe would've backed off. This time, I just ran and felt pretty good doing it.

When June ended, I found that I had no desire to put my watch back on, even though I was signed up for our local 4th of July 5k. This is the third year our town has done this race, and I've run it every year. The first time was my first 5k and last year was my first official sub-30. I almost didn't sign up this year because I haven't done a race since the Turkey Trot when I was robbed of my super awesome 5k PR and also, I've been running sporadic amounts each week and definitely not doing any sort of speed training, plus that whole thing where I could very well be running 12 minute miles and have no idea (which is not to knock anyone who runs 12 minute miles because a mile is a mile and every single mile counts, no matter how the minutes). However, Luke really wanted to do the kids' run, so it seemed like I shouldn't break tradition. Another tradition is that every year, Shane takes the boys to the playground (the start and finish is at the elementary school) and they always just miss me at the finish line. I cautioned him that this would likely be my slowest 5k yet, so to take at least 30 minutes playing.

I left my Garmin at home, gathering dust. I felt a little smug when everyone around me started their watches at the start of the race and I could just start running. I settled in to a pretty steady pace, knowing that the first mile is a gradual downhill with a steep hill at the halfway point and since it's out and back, the end is a gradual uphill. Nothing major, but enough that it's slightly annoying and I didn't really want to push. Truthfully, I was just enjoying myself because it was the first race ever where I wasn't staring at my watch. Because I started out so steady, I ended up passing a lot of people throughout the race who didn't start off so steadily. A woman near me had a watch or phone or SOMETHING that was emitting a loud noise every quarter-mile or so and that was driving me nuts and wrecking my relative calm. At mile 1, a volunteer was shouting out split times and I thought about covering my ears, but then realized that would make me look nuts. My split for mile 1 was 9:01, which would've panicked me if I'd seen it on my watch, I think, and momentarily panicked me when she said it out loud, but I told myself that I felt fine before she said it and that I needed to keep feeling fine. After mile 1, the course turns into a neighborhood, where you go up a steep hill, then turn around and go back out. Into the neighborhood, I passed a 10 year old girl who used to go to Luke's sitter who was walking at the time--I took the chance to pat her back and tell her how well she was doing. I saw her next when I was going down the hill and she was going up. She was running again, so I clapped and cheered for her. After that, it was back out of the neighborhood when I saw the girl's mom. She cheered for me and I said, "Emma's going up the hill!"

As I was approaching mile 2, a little boy ahead of me pulled aside and started walking, but as every runner passed him he said, "Good job!" and all I could think was, "Some parent trained him right." As I got to mile 2, the same volunteer was shouting out split times and mine was consistent with the same pace, even with the hill. I took a cup of water because a cute little girl handed it to me, but I kept running with it and just splashed it down my front. I knew that the last mile of the race was all road and sun and I would need to cool down. At this point, the woman with the constant loud watch/phone/whatever device was STILL near me and I started thinking, "I wish I had my watch so I could throw it at her." At this point, I started to pull ahead to get away from her noise and I caught up with a little boy who any time I would try and pass him would kick it in and surge forward. It made a fun game for me for the last mile. I would push, he would surge. This kid was a machine. When we got to the last little bit, where the finish line was just around the corner, he started to fall back and I knew I could pass him, but I said, "Come on... we're almost there, don't let me catch you now!" and he took off like a SHOT. He definitely has a future as a sprinter.

My official time was 28:19. While not my 5k PR, it's a course PR of over 1:30 and honestly, my funnest 5k. I was just in the moment. I chatted with people on the course, I encouraged other runners and I just enjoyed every moment. I wasn't going all out, but I pushed myself. Oh, and in true tradition, the only one clapping for me as I came across the finish line was one of the first grade teachers that I know. As I slowed down through the chute, I saw Shane and the boys scrambling up the sidewalk in the distance--ahh, well. There's always next year. When I checked the official results list because I wasn't quite sure what time the clock read as I came across, I saw that I was listed 3rd in my age group. Fortunately, #4 in my age group was right behind me, so I was happy to learn that there were more than 3 people in my age group. It is a small race, but there were 15 people total in my age group, so while it was a small field, it wasn't as small as I originally feared. Before awards, the kids lined up for the Sparkler Sprint.


(Luke is in the red shirt and grey shorts.)
Unfortunately, in typical kid fashion the little boy lined up like a serious sprinter tripped and fell and Luke tripped and rolled over him. Amazingly, Luke jumped right back up and despite then being at the back of the pack, managed to pass all but two kids and end up third in the shoot.

After the race, he told me how much fun it was to pass people. I don't want to push my kids into running just because I like it, but I think this one might be my runner.

After the kids' race, they gave out awards and I got to wear my medal for about one minute before Tommy stole it. Still, it was an exciting minute where I got to pretend to be a fast runner. Small races are awesome.


I'm not sure where I go from here, but I don't feel like I'm too eager to pick up my Garmin again. I wasn't hitting these paces a month ago. Obviously this month of running without a watch was good for my body, and I've learned to listen to it better without the watch. At some point, I'd like to train for something longer if my feet will let me. Can I do that without a watch? I guess that'll be a new adventure!

Week 4 was good to me because I actually completed every single run. I know! I'm as amazed as anyone, believe me. I did have to run four days in a row, thanks to snow and ice last Monday morning (I am so, so sick of this never-ending winter) but my feet held up much better than I thought. I was definitely ready to rest by the weekend, though.

The high of my week was the 6 mile long run on Friday. I didn't have huge expectations for this, because I haven't gone this far since November. Plus, this was day four of running and my calves were starting to feel it. So when I headed out, I told myself that I wouldn't look at my watch until the end of my run and would just enjoy running in the sunshine since I was off work. I did just that and although the last two miles were pretty rough, as there were four hills in the last mile and I was pretty much DONE, I was pleasantly surprised when my watch read 58:04 after it beeped in six miles. My 10k PR was 58 minutes and some change during my last half marathon and before I realized that I was injured, my plan was to get an official sub-60 10k PR. Being able to maintain that pace without having run 6 miles in so long gives me confidence that with a little more training or even just some race day adrenaline, I can still try for that 10k PR again soon.

The low has just been running in the dark. It's been a huge struggle. It's not so much the dark as it is the cold, actually. Winter doesn't want to let go and it's so exhausting to face cold and wind every single morning. I'm tired, my legs aren't moving very quickly and I just don't want to wear gloves and a headband anymore. I'm thankful that this week is spring break, so I have a slight reprieve from getting up at 4:30 (but not from running in the cold).

In things that are only exciting to runners, Keli got new shoes, causing us to have a discussion about the difference in drop between her old shoes and her new shoes. I currently run in Altra Intuitions, which are zero drop shoes. I chose them more for the shape of the toe box to help me get over my foot injury than for the zero drop, but I've discovered that I do actually enjoy the zero drop. My calves were a bit more sore at first, but once they adjusted, they weren't anymore sore than normal. I feel like it has improved my gait because I can feel my feet strike the ground a bit better than with old shoes. Don't get me wrong--I'm not saying that you should switch to zero drop shoes. I'd still be running in Brooks Adrenaline with a 12mm drop. That said, these shoes have been amazing for me and I would recommend checking them out if you're thinking of switching or if you've been dealing with any foot problems. They've been amazing for mine.

And like I said last week, COULD WINTER JUST PLEASE GO AWAY?

Week 3. Week 3 was a doozy. Or a wash. Or a complete and utter disaster. Whatever you'd like to call it. If you missed it last week, Keli and I were profiled on Another Mother Runner, which was the highlight of our life because Dimity and SBS are such huge inspirations. But as we both talked about in our posts last week, ever since we were contacted about the profile, everything has gone catastrophically wrong. I've held it together pretty well--until week 3.

My high point was also my low point (and was also my only run of the week, GAH). Week 3 had a fun workout scheduled for Monday and I'm not going to lie. When I see things like this, I think, "I work on my feet all day... CHECK" and move on. I'm awful. I will do something over the summer, but during the school year, I am lazy. On Tuesday, I decided to get the speed work out of the way. It called for a mile warm-up, 6x400s, and a mile cool-down. Okay, I would prefer to do these on a track, but in my neighborhood in the dark would have to work. Unfortunately, the weather has yet to acknowledge that it's spring and it was 5 degrees with wind gusts of 25mph. In short, it was absolutely miserable. Because I run these on the flattest stretch in my neighborhood, back and forth, I did half of them directly into the wind. By the last 400 (into the wind, naturally), I was running at what would've been a pre-injury mile for me. I finished the cool-down mile with my face stinging from the cold and stood under the hot shower for as long as I could without being late for work. It was miserable.

In the midst of this, the stomach flu was circulating through my house. My husband was sick Monday and I was doing my hopeful thoughts of, "I am going to miss this one, yes I AM." I was at work for an hour before my stomach started rumbling and I felt chilled. Well, of course I felt chilled. It was really cold when I was running. And maybe my stomach was just disturbed from running that morning. It became apparent that I was lying to myself after awhile, though I did manage to make it through the day of work. I got home as quickly as I could and was about to crawl into bed when the sitter called and said that my youngest had thrown up. I went to get him, wondering why I didn't get to be sick alone. We came back home and passed out together. Now, confusingly enough, my feet felt fine when I got into bed, but after two hours of sleeping, my feet cramped up and by the next day, my plantar fasciitis had flared up and my sesamoids were sore. I have no idea how the stomach flu caused my feet to start to hurt again, but somehow, these things happen to me. My friend Sarah, who is super smart and an amazing runner, suggested that it was probably dehydration and my mom thought that maybe the virus ache settled in the most recently injured part of my body. I think my feet are just jerks. At any rate, between my feet and dehydration from the stomach flu, I didn't manage to get another run in last week and that's pitiful. I thought I'd get back on track today, but I woke up to this.

You can't tell, but there's a layer of ice on the street. Come ON.

What we had in common last week was how tough it was, although Keli managed to get out and get some amazing runs in this weekend, but we were also talking about some things that we do differently. Typically, it's much colder for me in the mornings than it is for Keli, but that doesn't necessarily mean that she's running in 70s in the morning. I like to imagine that she is because lately, I've felt like I live in the frozen tundra.
That said, we've found that even though it's colder for me, I run with less layers than she does. Unless it's really, really cold (single digits or below zero), I wear a long-sleeved tech tee and Danskin slim sculpt pants. I also wear Mizuno Breath Thermo Run Glove but my hands usually get so warm that I take them off and toss them in my driveway by the end of the first lap. I also wear the Mizuno Breath Thermo Headband . I do keep that on through the whole run and it is excellent for keep my head warm without being too hot. Otherwise, I don't wear anything else. I can't stand to have a ton of things on me, so I won't wear hats or extra layers. I do have a pair of Mizuno Running Women's Breath Thermo Layered Tight but they're pretty heavy, so I only wear them if it's really cold. The Danskin pants that I wear are thin and don't add any extra warmth. Obviously I'm not a layering person and prefer to start out my runs a little cold instead of overheating! The Mizuno line is great for winter running because it turns sweat into heat. I have no idea how it works, but it does.

Now, let's hope that winter actually goes away now, because honestly, I'd like to put the gloves and headband away!

So week one is actually week two for me because as I said in last week's post, I started this whole thing a week earlier than Keli, not actually planning on following the whole training until I decided to do it virtually with Keli. Funny enough, I figured I'd end up needing to repeat a week somewhere along the line so I'd end up back on track. Well, it turns out that I'll be repeating week two this week, so you know. Let's hope that doesn't happen again. But more on that later!

My running week actually started out really strong and I would count that as the high point of my training last week. I hit some good paces and managed to run progressive runs twice, where each mile was faster than the last. I don't look at my watch in the dark, so I was running these entirely by feel and was just trying to keep my pace up and not fizzle out at the end. The 2x1 tempo run was also pretty strong, as I kept my paces under 9 minute miles--even though a car pulled out of a driveway when I was in the last tenth of a mile of my last tempo mile. That was maddening! Otherwise, I felt great and was doing that thing where I was all, "IN YOUR FACE, INJURY."

As so often happens with this ridiculous injury recovery came the low point. After two days of being on my feet constantly for ISTEPs, my feet were nagging at me. I could tell they didn't feel right, but I was able to run with them mostly feeling okay Thursday morning. However, after a day of teaching on my feet all day Friday, they were pretty much shot. I could feel that my heels were starting the beginnings of plantar fasciitis for the billionth time and when I woke up Saturday morning, stepping down killed my feet. So I stretched and rolled my calves and iced and skipped my Saturday run, which is really not what I wanted to do... but I've learned to baby feet. I would like to stop babying my feet someday soon, but it seems like the slightest disturbance throws them off. I'm starting to feel like they won't fully heal until summer. It's never running that bothers them, always working! After a few days of rest and not working, they feel much better... but I feel like it's a constant teeter totter. I already wear orthotics all day at work and sitting really isn't an option most days, so I'm not really sure what else to do. Knock it off, feet!

I'm sure this week's challenge will be running with the time change. Granted, it always looks like this when I begin AND end my run, so the time change doesn't affect me in terms of light.

But losing that hour of sleep is going to be tough.
A few people have asked me about running the morning. I also frequently get asked about in real life when I mention how I early I run, so I thought I'd cover a few of the things that *always* come up...

Don't you feel unsafe?
No, not really. Or rather, no less safe than any time than I'm running alone. I live in the back of a quiet subdivision, so I do laps around my block. It takes 3.5 laps around my block to get to a mile. There are two hills on my block. They aren't huge hills, but I hate them most mornings. Does this get tedious? A little, but it helps me feel safe because I am never very far from my house. Aside from an occasional neighbor starting a car, I don't see anyone. Truthfully, I've felt less safe running on a wooded bike trail in the middle of the afternoon. The only time I get freaked out is when it's windy and garbage day, because the wind rustles garbage bags creepily. Yesterday morning, I did almost stumble over a possum and that startled me a bit. Mainly because I thought it was a cat, until I saw the disgusting tail. Otherwise, I don't get freaked out by much. Although I will admit that when I line up at the end of someone's driveway to do speedwork, I do always wonder if they're peeking out a window ready to call the police on me for creeping around the neighborhood in the dark.

Okay, but aren't you exhausted by noon?
No more than usual. I get up at 4:30 to run, which is an hour earlier than my usual alarm, so I'm not losing that much sleep. Truthfully, I feel more energized than I do on days when I don't run. Running wakes me up, plus running at the end of a workday is beyond exhausting, so knowing that I get to leave school as soon as I'm done teaching helps keep me going.

Still, I couldn't get up that early!
Are you sure? I didn't think I could, either, and I started doing it during half marathon training because it was too hot in the afternoons to really push myself. The first few times were rough, but after awhile, my body acclimated. Truthfully, I prefer running at 8 or 9 in the morning, but because I work full-time, that isn't an option. So if you're having a hard time fitting a work out into your day, don't discount the morning. You might be surprised. There's a good feeling about knowing that you have your run done before most of the world is even out of bed. Now if I could just get my feet to agree with that...

As I'm recovering from an injury, I'm starting to get burned out on running with no training plan. I haven't had a training plan to follow since I ran my half on November 11th. While I'd planned on stepping back some, that's a very long time for me to go without a training plan. And while I'm certainly rebuilding and have a ways to go, I've started to feel a little antsy with absolutely nothing to follow. At the same time, I don't really feel ready to jump into anything. I don't feel like I'm quite there with my distances. My speed sucks, so I'm not really going to be banging out a PR at any distance any time soon. So I've been increasing my runs by a mile each week and while that's great and all, it's not necessarily fun and I was starting to feel burned out. Last week, I thought, "What if I just do the first week in the Train Like a Mother: How to Get Across Any Finish Line - and Not Lose Your Family, Job, or Sanity 5k Own It Plan?" I didn't have any intention to continue with the plan, I just needed something to break up the monotony for a week. It worked. It was hard and the 400s nearly killed me, but it worked and it made me feel like a stronger runner for that week.

Then Keli texted me that she was going to do the AMR Virtual 5k. Back when I started running almost two years ago, Keli was my running inspiration. She kicked my butt in so many ways. When she came to visit me in October of 2011, we ran together and all I saw was the back of her for 4-5 miles because she was so fast! Then her half marathon training got derailed because she became pregnant. Then she had a giant baby and never gets to sleep, so she's looking for a way to get back on track. I mentioned that I'd just done week 1 of the 5k Own It plan, so what if we kept doing it together and at the end, ran a virtual 5k together? I mean, sure, I'm a week ahead, but you know how it is... somewhere I'll miss a few days or I'll need to repeat a long run, so this is perfect. Even more perfect is the fact that Keli did the math and figured that she'd be done on the weekend of May 11th. She already found a 5k on that weekend--and I already have a 5k scheduled that weekend, one that means a lot to me. The epilepsy 5k is that weekend and we'll be running and walking for Team Tommy again. Could it BE any more perfect? I don't think so.

Keli and I tend to be on the same wavelength a lot, so it's no surprise that we ended up on the same wavelength here. For example, we both own this same Old Navy skirt. I had no idea that she had it and vice versa, but we end up wearing it on the same day more often than not. Although I suspect that living in the south and not in the cold, harsh north, she gets more wear out of hers than I do.


I do most of my runs at 4:30 in the morning, because that's when my feet feel best. I also do this because if I don't run at 4:30, my next time is not until after work... and truthfully, I have little to no energy at that time of day. Keli figured that she could run at 5:30 her time, which would be 4:30 my time, so I can work on keeping her accountable (and I will, so watch out, K!).

To keep ourselves accountable to all of you, we'll blog about our training each week. Or the way we got angry at each other when we didn't want to do a run. Maybe there will be a screenshot. If you came over here from Keli's blog because you don't know me, here's a little bit about me:
Name: Erin
Age: 30
Location: Chicagoland
Favorite Running Music: I actually don't run to music. I stopped listening to music months ago when I realized that listening to music slowed down my pace. I don't really miss it! Also, because I run in the dark, I cut it out for safety reasons, but I've gone without it for so long that I don't even bother with it in the daylight.
Running Favorites: Garmin Forerunner 405 Wireless GPS-Enabled Sport Watch with USB ANT Stick and Heart Rate Monitor (Black) I don't leave home without it. Except that one time that it wasn't charged and that was tragic. Although I make a habit of not looking at it more than once every mile (unless I'm doing speedwork), I still couldn't live without it.
adidas Women's Perfect Rib Tank, Super Cyan, Medium These are the best running tanks. Long enough to be comfortable, but wicking and cool. I own them in several different colors. I think Keli does, too!
Running not so Favorites: Sesamoiditis. Yeah. Foot injuries are dumb.
Running shorts that creep up. Is there anything worse?!

The only way this could be better is if we could actually travel those 679 miles and run a 5k together in May. Sigh. I can dream, right?

I'm afraid to say this because I firmly believe in jinxing myself. Well, I don't really BELIEVE in myself, but have you ever noticed how it really seems to happen? At any rate, I want to tell you that my feet are almost really healed from the sesamoiditis that's been plaguing me since NOVEMBER. November was ages ago, wasn't it? Samoiditis is a jerk of a lingering injury, which is why I'm afraid to talk about it. It might hear me. I want to say that I'm fully healed, but we'll go with 97%. Sometimes I step down funny and feel a stabbing pain shoot up my foot that reminds me that I'm not really fully healed--or that I could easily reinjure them. I also haven't worn anything other than running shoes with orthotics in them since December, so who knows what might happen if I decide to walk on the wild side and wear real people shoes? I have an education conference one week from today where I have to wear professional dress, so I guess I'll find out. Gulp. My feet also still ache in funny ways at the end of the day. A few weeks, the outer tendon on my foot was so sore that I took a few days off from running to let it heal. My arches are blistered from new running socks creating friction against my orthotics. They don't appear to want to heal. In short, my feet are delicate flowers.

Still, they're better. Much better than I thought they would ever be. There was a dark time in injury land when I was googling sesamoiditis and I was convinced that they would never heal. I lived inside my head and I hated all runners. I couldn't believe that I went from my absolute peak running condition, I mean stronger than I have EVER been to THIS injured mess that could barely walk. Because of the wind, because of shoes with too small of a toe box. I did everything right with training! I was so prepared for that half marathon and then I was brought down by something out of my control. People do dumb things running wise all the time and they don't get injured. WHY ME? I told you it was a dark time.

Every now and then, the thought, "I wonder where I'd be if I didn't get injured" crops up. It's an ugly one. I was faster than ever before I got injured. Although I planned on scaling back distance for awhile, I didn't plan on scaling back the speedwork and well, that thought is ugly and mean. It also serves no purpose because you can't change anything.
I was injured. I took three weeks off. I got a stomach bug and a sinus infection during those three weeks and lost six pounds, so I was even weaker when I went back to running. And when I did come back, I was still pretty injured, so I wasn't able to to jump right back in when I wanted to. Then I switched zero drop shoes and had to ease into those, so it was a whole lot of taking it slow. That's okay. It really is. It just isn't where I thought I would be in March.

Little by little, I'm making strides (pun intended). Saturday, I went out for a five mile run and it was hard. Five miles used to be nothing. When I was training for my half marathon, it was a warm up for 15 miles. I went out too fast in the first mile, but by mile 2, I'd settled into what felt like a comfortable pace. When mile 3 beeped, I looked at my watch and saw that my pace was 9:33. That used to be my comfortable, not pushing it pace during half marathon training! Granted, back then, I would've gone much faster on a five mile run, but that's okay. At mile 4, I was pushing back into our neighborhood strong at 9:30 and I felt good. I had a few traffic stops and did stop to catch my breath during those moments, so I can't admit that it was a straight out run, but I only stopped long enough to not get hit by cars and had no traffic stops in the last mile and a half. I felt good and pushed it up to 9:20 toward the end, even with two hills. Today I ran 4 progressive miles (meaning that each one was faster than the last), with the last mile at a 9:13. It was dark and I was tired, but I managed to push myself faster and faster with each mile, even though I was so exhausted by the end. There are still times when I'm struggling and I see my pace in the 10s, which I didn't used to see at all, but that's okay because like Barb said, I can't compare peak training to rebuilding. There are also times when I am out of breath and gasping by mile 1. I don't know what happens these times, but I know that my body isn't just quite there yet. It's strange how you can run consistently for almost two years and never miss more than two days in a row, but you take three weeks off in a row and scale back... and suddenly, you forget how to put one foot in front of another.

Alternately titled, Sesamoiditis can suck it.

I thought I should write this post because in the last two and a half months, I've spent a lot of time googling bruised sesamoids and sesamoiditis and most of what I found was horribly depressing. People only write about worst case scenarios on the internet, have you noticed? And while my injury isn't all the way healed yet, it at least feels better enough that I feel the need to write something to balance out all the "I've had sesamoiditis for 6 years and had to stop running, THERE IS NO HOPE" posts that I found. If you're here because you're a regular reader of my blog, you can feel free to skip this post. Or you can read more to learn why I've had such crazy eyes over not running much lately. But if you're here because you googled sesamoiditis, hi. I'm sorry. Sesamoids are jerks, aren't they? Did you even know that they existed before you injured yours? I didn't. Granted, I'd sometimes wear heels and have a sore spot on the ball of my feet or run hill repeats and feel a little sore the next day, but ice and rest usually cleared it up.
And then I ran a half marathon with 50 mph wind gusts in shoes with a smaller than usual toe box. My gait was off, way off. I could feel it and kept correcting it, but it was impossible in the wind to keep it normal. I could feel my feet slapping the pavement and knew it wasn't good, but there wasn't anything I could. By the end of the half, the balls of my feet felt like I'd just walked across hot sand. Still, I figured that if I iced them all day at work the next day they'd be fine. Only they didn't get better, they got worse. The tricky thing was that it only hurt when I walked, not when I ran. I kept running moderately for about two weeks because I figured that if it wasn't hurting when I ran, everything had to be fine. In hindsight, I realize this is silly, but runners don't always think straight.

The frustrating thing was that I ran this half marathon in better shape than I'd always been. I trained for a PR. In the course of my training, I ran 13 miles twice. I ran a 14 miles once. I ran 15 miles. I was fine the day after each of these runs, but there were no wind gusts and I ran them in different shoes (before the half, I wore out the Brooks Adrenaline 11s that I'd always run in. The 12s didn't work for me because a seam caused a hot spot. I tried Mizunos and the high ankles rubbled my ankle bone. I finally settled on Nike Lunarglides, which seemed to work.). I expected that I would finish this half, take a day off to rest, then continue running faster than I'd ever run before and PRing more distances. I wasn't ready to give that up, so I was stubborn. Even with the wind gusts that day, I still PRd by 13 minutes. Two weeks after the half, though, I had to admit that it wasn't going to clear up on its own. The area over my sesamoids was visibly swollen. When I stepped down, a sharp pain shot up my foot. Every single time I stepped down, which I fondly referred to as the stabbing pain of doom. I couldn't even touch that area of my foot. If you're reading this and it sounds familiar, please call a podiatrist. It's not going to magically get better on its own. Trust me.

By some magical grace, my xrays showed no fracture or break, although one did show a shadow of an old injury or the start of a fracture. The doctor believed that it was the heavy wind and gait that led to the injury, although he mentioned that my feet have two things that can also contribute to sesamoiditis: high arches and a long second toe. So while it was the wind, my sesamoids are also more prone to injury because of the design of my feet. The doctor also mentioned that he really thought minimalist shoes would be more beneficial than stability shoes. I promptly ignored him because let's be honest here. My feet hurt so badly at this point that I wanted to wrap them in bubble wrap, tie pillows to the bottom and pay someone to carry me around. So the thought running in shoes with less cushion was not one that I could entertain at the time. He put me on anti-inflammatories, gave me a topical gel, instructed me to soak in hot water and epsom salts twice a day and told me that I could continue to run because there no sign of a break or fracture and because I told him it didn't hurt when I ran and I made an appointment to return in a week.

I kept running for a few days, then realized that although my feet didn't hurt when I ran and although everything I read was consistent with the doctor, I was tired of how badly they hurt the rest of the time, so I stopped running. This was hard. The anti-inflammatories helped the visible swelling, but they didn't help the pain any. After a week of rest, my sesamoids didn't feel any better, so my doctor did cortisone shots and fitted me for custom orthotics. I know there's a lot of controversy about whether or not cortisone shots are helpful or harmful, but I was willing to try. I will say that it was probably more painful than natural childbirth, which maybe someone could've warned me about?! His hope with the orthotics was that they would support my arches enough that some of the pressure would be removed from my sesamoids allowing them to heal. After another week of rest, plus the cortisone, my sesamoids felt better. Only, I managed to give myself plantar fasciitis from walking funny to take the weight off my sesamoids. That's funny, universe. After another week of rest, I saw my doctor to get the orthotics. He gave me instructions on how to break them in and told me when I would be able to run in them. I talked to him about the PF and he said that the orthotics should knock it out (and they did), but if they didn't, I needed to get in to see him right away. My feet are just a barrel of fun, basically. In anticipation of easing back into running, I'd bought new shoes, Brooks Adrenaline 13s. The reviews I'd read online said that they were much more like my beloved 11s than the 12s, so they were kind of my hope to be kind to my feet. Note that I was still ignoring the doctor.

After spending a few days breaking in the orthotics, I started running. Slowly. My 13s felt just like my 11s. Only my feet started to hurt again. I can't tell you how upsetting this was. I could feel it as I was running, could literally feel the pressure on my sesamoids when my feet would hit the pavement, even with the orthotics. I wanted to cry. I pictured myself clearing out my dresser full of running clothes and donating it to Goodwill because that was it. I was done. My feet weren't going to heal. Then I remembered what my doctor said about minimalist shoes. I started doing google searches. I learned that most stability shoes have a flex groove right beneath the sesamoid--sure enough, my shoes did. That's why I felt pressure when I ran, because a deeper flex groove leads to more forefoot flexion and more pressure in the area of the sesamoid. Exactly what I DIDN'T need and exactly what my doctor kept trying to tell me. Oops. I wasn't set to see my doctor for another two weeks and I didn't want to wait to discuss shoes with him, but I remember Dimity from Another Mother Runner blogging about Altra shoes before and how they were supposed to help with forefoot pain. A few google searches later and yes, they come highly recommended for people with sesamoiditis. I quibbled a little bit before ordering because man, my allegiance to stability shoes is hard to break, but I looked at my feet which were well on their way to stabbing pains of doom again and hit order on a pair of Altra Intuitions (bonus: they come in pink). I anxiously waited two days for them to arrive, then rushed home and took them out for a mile run. Because they're zero drop shoes, you do have to transition slowly into them. The site recommends switching off with your old shoes, but because my old shoes are hurting me, I haven't been doing that. Because my three weeks without running left me horribly out of shape (which is unfair because I've run for two years straight without any more than 2 consecutive rest days), taking it slow is no problem. What's great about the Altras is that they're foot shaped. The toe box is much bigger than a normal shoe, so it allows your toes to spread out. After two weeks in them, I can tell that my toes have naturally spread out. When my sesamoiditis was really bad, one of the things that relieved it was to pull my toes apart, so it makes sense that this would help. The bottom of the shoe maps the bones of the foot. No flexed grooves. No extra pressure on my sesamoids. My orthotics fit easily into the shoes, too, so I've been wearing them with the orthotics just fine. I've been slowly uppping my mileage to no extra pain, which is a huge relief.

I do still have some lingering pain and I imagine it'll be awhile before that finally leaves, but it's much better. I can press on the actual sesamoid bone to no pain. All I have left is soreness on the inside of my upper forefoot that I feel when I step down. That's it. I've been relieving that with kt tape, which I would recommend to anyone dealing with this. If you want to keep running on bruised sesamoids, this is a great way to deal with it. I apologize in advance for posting a picture of my feet on blog because feet are gross, but this is the best way I could explain.

First, wrap kt tape *tight* around your upper forefoot. I wrap all the way around to make sure it's tight and stays in place. Then take the second piece and run it down the side of your foot. This doesn't need to be as tight, but make sure it covers the sesamoid, too. This is the best way that I've found to relieve the pain. Moleskin works, too, but I don't think that it promotes healing as well as kt tape.

There's a whole lot of hindsight in this post. If only I'd run my half marathon in shoes with a wider toebox. If only I'd run my half marathon on a day without insane wind gusts. If only I'd gone to the doctor sooner. If only I'd not been so stubborn and LISTENED to the doctor sooner, but in writing this, I hope that I can help someone. Even if you don't have sesamoiditis but you're considering making a shoe switch, I would really encourage you to check out Altras. They're great shoes. I obviously never thought I'd be singing the praises of zero drop shoes, but well. Here I am. I explained to a friend that stability shoes worked really well for pre-injury me, but they workedh horribly for post-injury me. If only I'd admitted to that sooner! I'm hoping that someday soon, I can come back and tell you about how my feet don't hurt AT ALL. That would be really wonderful.