Monday, March 31, 2014

Because I'm a Meathead: Part 1

As we have already established multiple times in my Be a Big Dog blog, I'm running this 100 miler because I'm a meathead.  It's one thing to say over and over, it's another to prove it to you with past meathead moments.  As my college friends will contest to, I never turned down a dare... we do not need to get into the details of those, just yet at least, since they don't necessarily help paint the best picture of my intelligence.  Despite that, I have decided to start a series called "Because I'm a Meathead" to hopefully build your belief in me that I'm a big enough meathead to succeed at this 100 miler.

When I worked at Gettysburg College my second duty was a strength and conditioning coach, which meant I had the wonderful opportunity of helping put together and run the off-season workout programs with most of the sports programs.  The head strength and conditioning coach, Shaun Weaver, and I would monitor the weight room while athletes would come in to complete their workouts.  The football team was one of them.  And every three weeks we would run the players through a range of tests to mark their progress, or lack their of.  One of the tests we ran was a wall sit with a 45 pound plate weight on their legs.  These "big, tough" football players would come in and barely muster a 3 minute wall sit.  The longest was 6 minutes and change. I kept telling them they weren't trying very hard.  They tried to convince me it was harder than it looked.  I told them to be a big dog.  They said they were.  As you can tell, we went around and around in circles.  Finally, when the second round of testing came, I attempted this wall sit just to show them it wasn't that hard.  First attempt, I made it 7 minutes, purely because I had to prove to them it was all about mental toughness and being a big dog.  Then, my meathead self came out and I told them that in three weeks when they tested again, I would really show them how it was done.

Awesome.  Because that's exactly what I wanted to do in three weeks.  As a 23 year old, I really wanted to be challenging 18 year olds to a wall sit while holding a 45 pound plate weight.  I mean, seriously, who wouldn't be up for that challenge?  I found a new hobby and, man, I was elated.  Thrilled.  Jumping out of my pants excited.

Fast forward three weeks.  It was testing day.  I had done no real training besides my normal lifting routine, but I wasn't worried, it was all mental toughness anyway.  The word had been spread, there were volleyballs girls, football players and couple of my soccer players there to watch.  No point in wasting anytime, so I just jumped right into it.  Sat down agains the wall, placed the 45 pound plate weight on my legs and just let the time tick.  Eight minutes in my calves started to shake.  Still it was all mental toughness.  Ten minutes in all of my legs were shaking and the thought that I could stop and still hold the "record" crossed my mind but the volleyball girls told me to get to 12 minutes.  Insert more mental toughness here.  At 12 minutes, I figured what's the difference between 12 minutes and 13 minutes? Just sixty seconds.  If someone told you you only had 60 seconds to turn on and watch tv, would you even try?  Probably, not.  That's how little time I had to make it through.  At this point a decent number of athletes had come to observe.  13 minutes turned into 14.  One more minute.  I mean 15 minutes sounds so much better than 14 minutes, don't you think?  And just like that 15 minutes hit.  I dumped the weight off my legs, slid my back down the wall into a sitting position.  I. had. crushed. the. football. wall. sit. record.

Proud moment or meathead moment?

Unfortunately, I think it's the latter.


Thursday, March 27, 2014

First Failure

Yeah, yeah, yeah.  I know when you read this post you will be thinking "seriously? you consider that failure?" but remember I'm a meathead.  That's the reason I'm running this 100 miler because why shouldn't I be able to run 100 miles?  I don't particularly enjoy running. I haven't experienced that "runners high" yet... I am waiting for it, but have not experienced it yet.  Instead, I am sticking to my mileage plan, planning my week around the amount of time I have to run, and ultimately running this 100 miler because I would be upset if I was not able to run a 100 miler.  I understand it is a physical feat that will push me to my physical and psychological limits over and over again.  I will have to sacrifice a lot in order to fully train for this race.  AND, no matter how much I train, nothing will fully prepare me for the actual race.  BUT, in my head, I just don't see why I should fail at this.  Why can't I run a 100 mile race?

So this brings me to my first failure in my training so far.  At Gustavus, the coaching staff plays different sports at noontime.  In the winter when the ice hockey rink is in we play noon-puck; there is noon-hoops; and when the indoor turf is put in (in replace of the hockey rink) or when it's nice enough outside, we play noon-time boomtime which is soccer.  We have dubbed it boomtime because when people who don't know how to play soccer play the sport they "boom" the ball.  We have played twice so far this spring, once last week and the second time was this past Tuesday.  I haven't played soccer in a while, thus, I knew I would be sore.  If you're not used to shooting a ball then your groins and hip flexors are overused and become tight.  To be honest, I shot the ball way more than I needed to, which meant my right hip flexor was feeling it going into my long run for the week.

Usually, my long runs are on the weekend.  However, this past weekend I was recruiting and coaching in Vegas and quite frankly was not going to have sufficient time to run 21 miles.  So, we altered my training program so I would be running 21 miles on Tuesday.  After boomtime.  My mileage leading up to it was minimal... Thursday I ran 7.5 miles, Friday was a day off, Saturday was a day off, Sunday I ran 4 miles, and Monday I ran 4 miles.  Then I boomed at noon on Tuesday and at 4:00pm I set off for my longest run yet of 21 miles. But I didn't make it 21 miles.  In reality, I only made it 19 miles.

Two miles in my right hip flexor/groin was hurting.  10 miles in when I met up with Hubey to run I was in a good amount of pain.  13 miles in I was performing the superman stretch on the side Old Minnesota (the main street through St. Peter).  16 miles in I thought we only had a mile to go.  17 miles in I found out we had two more miles to go and hit my first "wall" in running, which I'm very happy only lasted about 1 minute before I came around again.  18 miles in my coach said "I'm happy this is happening to you, you need to experience some adversity while running."  19 miles in we finished and I was barely able to complete a lap walking around the track I was in so much pain.

At the end of the day, my coach told me it was not a failure.  I completed my single long run for the week and even though I was two miles short, it's more important to take care of myself and avoid injury than to get so caught up on numbers.   Another runner friend tried to put it in perspective and stated "when you are running your 100 mile race, you won't be thinking, 'if only I had been able to run 2 more miles on Tuesday, March 25th, this would be so much easier.'" But in my mind, I was suppose to run 21 miles and I was unable to do so.  Failure. Failure and I are not friends, which meant I moped for an entire evening. I'm slowing getting over it, but most likely it will be my motivation going into my next long run. On the bright side, minus my hip flexor, I wasn't sore the next day, so I guess that's a small victory.


Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Another Milestone, #ImProud

Now, what you have to understand is milestones are important...especially when training for a 100 miler.  Think about it.  If you only compare your mileage and long runs to the ultimate goal of 100 miles then you'll never be close.  My longest training run is 30 miles.  That's not even a third of my actual 100 mile race.  However, 30 miles of straight running is the longest many believe you need to train in order to successfully run a 100 miler.  If you want to succeed in ultra-marathons then, as I am beginning to learn, you have to be proud of what you accomplish and remember that EVERY run counts.  All in all, when I run my first 30 miler I am going to be PROUD of what I accomplished, rather than what most people's response to me which is but you still have 70 more miles to run!!!  #it'sallaboutperspective

  My milestones so far:

1.  Five mile runs became easy; the minimum of what I run daily.
2.  I ran for more than two hours straight and didn't hit the infamous "wall".
3.  Back to Back long runs of 12 and 13 without being tired or sore.
4.  Felt strange when I had two days off in one week -- almost like I was going through running withdrawal.

After Monday, I can officially say I hit another MILESTONE.  I ran 18 miles.  It's my longest run yet, but I ran it after a 10 miler on Sunday.  I'll tell you briefly about my two and a half hour run, where you will see where I am still a naive runner trying to find my way...  It seems as though everyone here in the athletics department at Gustavus is training for some race.  As my one roommate, Dre, claims: we are all drinking the koolaid.  What's funny about that comment is that Hubey and I signed up to run our 100 miler and then KP another coworker and roommate decided to run a half marathon.  Dre laughed at us, telling us we were all drinking the koolaid.  Well, she started drinking it too as she is running her first half marathon this weekend in Washington D.C.  (GOOD LUCK DRE!)  My other roommate, KP, who is the assistant women's hockey coach here is training of for a half in June.  She's a hockey player.  Not a runner. #hockeysyndrome.  So she's easing into this running deal with long runs each week of 4-5 miles.  This week she has a long run of 6 miles.  How does this relate to my milestone you ask? Keep reading.

Monday it was gorgeous.  42 degrees and sunny.  Everyone was outside in Minnesota.  KP and I decided we were going to run together for 3.7 miles and then she would stop and I would continue on for another 14.3 miles alone.  We started out on our run and KP asked if I was tricking her into running more than 3.7 miles.  I said "no"... at which point there was a silence on her end.  I then asked, "do you want me to trick you?" and she said, "well, sort of, yeah..." So I told her I would.  The issue was, I was in fact already tricking her but didn't want to confess after her initial question.  All in all, she went from her longest run previously of 5 miles to 7.4 miles at her fastest pace yet.  #stud.  This was great because that meant I only needed to run 10.6 more miles by myself.

Before we left, I knew I was going to be running for 2.5 hours and needed to dress accordingly.  I started out with 3/4 length spandex, a very very light running shirt and a light running jacket.  After the first 400 yards I was sweating.  I had my jacket sleeves rolled up and less than a mile in I stopped to remove my light running shirt to tie around my waist.  To get a picture, 42 degrees, after the Minnesota winter we had, is absolute heaven.  We ran past my senior soccer players house, where they were outside in sports bras hanging out on lawn chairs on the 4 feet of melting snow.  So, when KP and I finished our 7 miles loop, I dropped off my jacket at the apartment and left in just a t-shirt for my remaining 11 miles.  Two miles in I realized this was a poor decision.  The clouds had rolled in, winds were picking up and the sun was setting.  Four miles in my hands were becoming very cold and I was leaving town for the countryside where there was no cover from the wind, which was by no means blowing heavily, but just enough to cause a slight wind chill.  #stpeterwind

Six miles in, with the wind chill below freezing, I was alternating putting one hand at a time down the side of my spandex to warm it up before removing it to warm the other.  Eight miles in I was running with both my hands down the sides of my spandex in attempts to regain feeling and warmth, except when a car came, when I would remove them and run like a "normal" person.  Nine miles in my arms and hands were tingling, similar to pins and needles.  Ten miles in I decided to BE A BIG DOG, picked up pace and ran the last mile and half completely normal, which meant when I returned to my apartment I needed KP to untie my shoelaces as I lacked enough dexterity in my fingers to do so on my own.  #naf

Ahh, my running naivety...it's always hard to judge what you should wear.  But, all in all, I completed my first 18 miles, and despite having to run with my hands in my spandex I ran the last 11 on my own at an 8 minute pace.  #boom


Sunday, March 2, 2014

What I've Learned from my Garage Door

It's amazing where life lessons come from.  Especially those lessons that come from where you least expect them... such as a garage door.  Honestly, what life lessons could you possibly learn from a garage door?  Most lessons a garage door teach you are common sense, for example: 1. Open the garage door before trying to drive in or out. Or 2.  Don't lie underneath a closing garage door without a safety sensor because you will be crushed.  So, what could I possibly learn from my garage door that would help me in my 100 miler training?

My first garage in Minnesota did not have an automatic door opener.  Worst decision ever.  Who in their right mind would want to get out of their car to open or close the garage door when it's -50 out?  Granted, I didn't have a choice as all the garage's at my apartment complex are manual unless you decide to add an automatic door opener yourself.  Lucky me, someone decided to move out and I snagged their garage which was closer to my apartment building AND had an automatic door opener.  Woop woop, talk about awesome, I was planning on fist pumping for a week until I realized I needed to move all my belongings from one garage to the next (about 50 yards so not far, but rather an awkward distance... do you walk your stuff over? Do you drive your stuff over?).  The killer is... it was January... in Minnesota... so it was bitterly cold.  Another character building moment.

Now, a year later, my hands are finally warmed up and I don't have to get in and out of my car every morning and evening to manually open or close my garage.  Instead, I find myself sitting in my car in the parking lot or standing right inside the building watching my garage door go rogue.  When it's in the minus degrees prior to windchill my garage door has a mind of its own.  I will press the button for it to close and it obeys.  Then when it hits the concrete floor, it opens again.  I close it again.  It opens again.  I stop it halfway up, then close it.  It opens.  I wait for it to completely open then close it.  It still opens.  I try using my Prius button to close the door.  It opens.  I use my in-hand clicker to close the door. It opens.  I get out of my car and press the button on the inside of my garage door, WHICH DEFEATS THE PURPOSE OF HAVING AN AUTOMATIC GARAGE DOOR, and it still opens.  I literally look as thought I have obsessive compulsive disorder and have to open and close my garage seven times every morning before I go to work and every evening before I return to my apartment.  Then finally, after whatever reason, my garage door stays closed.  For a while, I figured its just rebelling against the brutal Minnesota winter and putting in a request to be moved to Florida, but still, come on garage door, just be normal and let me get on with my life.

However, after tapping into my emotional intelligence and really thinking about the situation, I have realized that my garage door isn't actually going rogue.  Instead, it's taking care of me.  My garage door cares about my well-being.  It knows I'm running a 100 miler.  It knows I hate running on treadmills.  It knows I'm a meathead. And with this knowledge, it's teaching me a life lesson.

So, what is the life lesson, you ask?  When it takes 7 times to close my garage door, it's too cold to run outside.