BATHING WITH THE FISHES

Me, Shawna and Rosaura hanging in the parking lot afterwards

This week saw me trying to return to routine after a lovely break in Hawaii.  While the rest of the country and Europe was dealing with terrible weather and the Beast from the East, we did have a cold snap and a small ice storm to contend with, even if it was still delightfully sunny by mid day, which meant tights and gloves.  After four weeks of build it was time for a challenging 18 miler - not sure why but 18 just sounds scarier than 16 even though it is a paltry two miles more.  In most training cycles you throw in a couple of 20 milers and a couple of 18's so this was about to get real and there was a degree of apprehension on Thursday night.

Shawna and I had a guest appearance from the always peppy Rosaura, who was trying to get in 20 miles for her Boston training schedule, but as she is somewhat faster we were treated with her glorious pirouettes and spent time with her on 'guu' stops and those brief moments when you stop to complain about the bits that hurt.  There comes a time when you can no longer converse anyway - in the last 6 miles you are not feeling too chatty or expansive.   I have always felt that distance running is an exercise in learned discomfort and I enjoy clicking off the miles by switching my little hand held water bottle from one hand to the next alternating miles as a form of counting and for mental variety.  It is amazing how much we get used to small habits.  For instance I realized I really don't enjoy carrying it in my left hand - my right hand is just that tad bit stronger and bigger.  Like yoga classes where they force you to change the clasp of your hands or the cross of your legs, switching to another side of your body for something as simple as carrying water requires some mental effort and accommodation.  It is interesting to notice how reluctant we are to do so in situations of mild stress.  Like parking our car in the exact same spot when we go to work or the grocery store, it is or mind and body's way of creating less work and being lazy.  On longer runs it also pays to get awfully interested in the little things, like how you are landing that foot that has the sore ridge of hard skin on the little toe, or why that left hip is feeling like its not extending as much as the other side, just to keep your mind from wandering to how much you would rather be home on your couch eating a tray of donuts and drinking coffee.

18 felt hard, and it was sobering and briefly depressing to remember I would still have another 8 miles left of the marathon.  Instead at mile 15 I started thinking, if I feel like this at Blackfriars when all those runners are in the dark underpass weeping, weeing and rolled up in a ball of pain, I would actually be quite happy as I knew I could do this for three more miles - the re-framing was helpful and meant the three of us all finished at a much better clip than the rest of the run. Positive attitude does indeed produce a negative split.

Reflective of my impending dotage I am doing my best on recovery so ran a nice cold bath and plunked in an entire tray of ice from the freezer in it, sadly once I got in I realized it was around 60f and not nearly cold enough to be useful, just cold enough to be a bit miserable.  I dripped my way back to the kitchen with the dog regarding me with some degree of curiosity, only to find there were only a few ice packs.  There was also a temptingly large pack of King Crab Claws and a six pack of steelhead salmon, but sanity took over and I drew the line at bathing with dinner.


7 weeks to go and a drop down week to 14 miles before the next big push - March is going to be lots of running, better get that ice machine cranking!