What I wish I had known

Look what arrived today!

5 whole days early!!!

It's like Chrismukkah in...May?!

So excited to break this little gem out of its box and take it for a run on Saturday.  Actually, it's kind of ridiculous how excited I am to do that.  Kind of similar to how excited I was to take these bad boys out for the first time on Tuesday:

Can you see them?  Are you sure??

If this wasn't all for the benefit of running, you'd think I'd turned into some sort of materialistic American or something.

But the way I look at it, my excitement about these things is way more telling of an entirely different transformation of myself: I have wholly and completely become an endurance athlete (I know, I probably could have said that 3 marathons and a half-dozen half marathons ago, but my mind can be a little slow to catch up and acknowledge things sometimes).

There are other indicators that endurance training has become an ingrained part of my life.  For instance, I have uttered the following sentences on more than one isolated occasion:

"I only have to run 11 miles this weekend."

and,

"Ice baths really aren't that bad!"

and,

"Yep, there's a spot where I should have put some BodyGlide."

The following thoughts have also begun occurring far too frequently:

I'm out of bananas! [panic] Time for an emergency trip to the grocery store.

and

I'm not ravenously hungry right now.  That's weird...

When new runners discuss with me the difficultly of finding the time to run, I have to pick my way back through the maze in my brain to a place where "finding the time to run" was a thought that occurred to me.  Because now, it seems as though my life has flipped upon itself.  Running is what I do.  It's everything else that I have to find time for.

Granted, my biggest life commitments right now are my job and my dog.  I'd imagine that in the future it could be much more difficult to make running #1, but that's a discussion for another day.

When I run my 5th marathon in 3 weeks, it will be the anniversary of my first marathon 3 short years ago and my first half marathon 4 years ago.  I can't say that my endurance running career has been very long or very accomplished, but in these years, I certainly have learned a lot about both myself and running.  The list of things that I've learned since embarking on this endurance trail would be endless, so instead of making another list today, I am go to impart upon you the one piece of advice I wish I had known from day one.  I'd like to think that this piece of advice could be made universally relevant to areas of life other than running, but it's up to you to transfer the knowledge.

Get ready for a mind-blowing tidbit of information here.

Tessa's Biggest Piece of Running Advice

Everybody has days where they just don't want to run.

Everybody.

I've done a lot of highly official research on this.  I read a lot of running blogs and running articles, and I talk to a lot of runners of all varieties.  And if there is one theme that holds true amongst them all, it's that we all have days where getting yourself out the door just seems awful.

I don't mean for this advice to be discouraging.  In fact, I think it's the opposite.  I remember being baffled by this realization during my first marathon training season, as I started having my first ever conversations with seasoned, experienced runners.  Up until then, I guess I had thought that one day I would just get to this point where running felt great and easy every single day.  Even though it didn't happen every day, I felt that each time I got home from work dreading the idea of heading out to pound the pavement again, it somehow meant that I wasn't a "real" runner.  I thought "real" runners loved to run.  All the time.

Not so.  Don’t believe a word of it.

All runners, regardless of speed or distance, experience the same highs and lows of daily life.  Some days you feel great.  And some days you don't.  Thus is life.  Who would want all the days to be great anyways?  As my absolute favorite author puts it in his new book, which I'm currently reading:

"Are you one of those people," she asked,"who think everything is beautiful?"

"No. That would mean nothing is beautiful..."

                               ~Mark Helprin, In Sunlight and in Shadow

If every run were great, then none of them would be great.  You've got to have the rough days to feel the good ones.

But here's the difference between the runner I am now, and the runner I was 4 years ago.  I, of course, often have days when I don't want to run.  But how I react to that desire to forgo the effort is different now.  Nine times out of ten, on those days when I don't want to run, I still do.  And the only time I am disappointed is that one time when I decide to succumb to the "no running today" thoughts.  When I give in.

It took a long time to train my mind and my body to put on the running shoes and kick myself out the door when my mind just wasn't feeling it.  And it was only after repeated days of deciding not to run, and then realizing that I felt even worse than I did before because I didn't get out there, that I learned how to be an endurance athlete.

Running hard and running far and running long is about running when you don't want to.  It's about running when it hurts.  Or when it sucks.  But regardless, you are still running.  Because there's an amazing thing that happens when you push past the "this sucks", "this hurts," and "I don't want to be doing this" thoughts.  There comes a point where all of a sudden, it feels right.  Again, maybe not good (not all the time), but right.  It clicks and you realize that at this moment, at this time, there is nothing that feels more right than the spinning of your feet, the rhythm of your breathing, and the jostle of your bones.

And to be honest, some of the best runs I've ever had are runs that happened on days when I just didn't want to go out there and do it.  But I did.  And it was the best remedy for whatever had been ailing me.

But also, as a little reminder: don't let all this talk about not wanting to run discourage you either.  Because most days, I want to run.  Most days, it is all I want to do to make my day complete.  I just want to acknowledge that there are some days when running is at the bottom of the list of things I'd like to do.

And that's ok.

In fact it's great.

Because those are the days that I feel the strongest.

Peak week

If my last two marathon training seasons have taught me anything, it's that my favorite part of marathon training is the highest mileage weeks.  While training for my current marathon and also while training for Goofy, I started off the seasons feeling pretty crappy.  The runs were hard, and I finished feeling like I had to push way too much just to get my legs spinning at a decent pace.

During Goofy, I blamed all the unfun runs on the fact that I was sick for pretty much the entire duration of the training season.  While I'm sure this affected it, I don't think it was the only reason.

At the beginning of my training for the Seattle RNR, I felt the same as I had for Goofy.  My legs didn't want to move fast, my lungs were working too hard, and by the end of most of my runs I was simply frustrated.

And then, just as happened in the peak weeks of training for Goofy, once I started hitting the high mileage weeks, suddenly I felt amazing.  My legs felt strong, my lungs felt clear and happy, and my mind was all in.

Being the over-analyzer that I am, I've come up with a list of very legitimate reasons why I love the few weeks of training just before the taper:

1) Miles and more miles.  There's something incredibly satisfying about seeing the mileage numbers skyrocket.  I love the feeling that comes after finishing a run in the high teens, let alone a 20 miler (as I did this past weekend).  There's a running high that comes from knowing how many miles you've clocked on those long runs that I can't quite duplicate in any other way.

2) The earlier, not-so-fun weeks are paying off.  There's a reason that all those early weeks suck.  It's because you are building up your strength and endurance to a point it hasn't been at in a while.  To a point that most people in their lives will never build up to.  Of course it sucks.  It's the kind of "this really sucks" pain and frustration that is necessary to getting better, stronger, and faster.  And then, in the peak weeks, you suddenly feel the benefits of all the hard work.

3) Strength.  Very similar to the point above.  In the peak weeks, my legs feel unstoppable.  It's like I can feel every little iota of muscle that I've built in the previous weeks.  My legs suddenly feel like they could run faster and further than they ever have before, with much less effort.

4) The adrenaline of the upcoming race is kicking in.  By the peak weeks of training, I've usually fully entered the Marathon Reality Zone.  Knowing I have this race coming up in the not too distant future is an added motivating factor in the desire to push through the miles.

5)  Brain training.  In the peak weeks, with the strength and endurance built up, it's easier to focus on the brain training aspect of marathon training.  At the end of a 20 mile run, when you know that your legs will carry you to the finish despite how much they are protesting, it comes time to start training your brain to stay positive, keep focused, and not give up.  It's the time to start training your brain to believe that you are capable of doing what you've set out to do.  For me, this is the biggest challenge of marathon training.  And during peak weeks, I am happy to tackle this challenge.

Memorial Day Weekend marked the end of my peak week of training.  Let's recap.

I started off my week back in New York with a late long run (late meaning Monday instead of Saturday) at the tail end of wedding weekend.  Leading up to the weekend, I had been really nervous about tackling a 160 minute run all on my own.  I think the longest run I'd done on my own before that was somewhere around 11 miles.  17 miles just seemed way too daunting.  I emailed my family members to see if they'd be willing to ride a bike next to me to keep me company, but most everyone was heading back towards their own homes on Monday or acting as airport taxi all day, so that was a no go.  So then I turned to Sierra, who had flown back to Rochester with me for the wedding and to see her family.  She agreed right away to tag along next to me.

I started off the run along the Erie Canal Path in Rochester at 7 am by myself.  It was peaceful and quiet with just another runner or 2 I passed along the way in the first half hour.  As I jogged under an overpass, I saw this graffiti on the side of one of the columns and couldn't help but smile:

It's hard to tell that it's the silhouette of a head under the scribbles, hair
 pulled back in a pony tail.  Somebody knows just the right way to pep
up lady runners on their way. 

After the first 40 minutes, I headed back to the parking lot to meet Sierra who then ran with me on another out and back for another 30 minutes.  When we got back to the parking lot again, we pulled the bike out of the car, and then Sierra rode along next to me for the next hour and a half.  The weather was perfect and Sierra did an excellent job of keeping me distractedly entertained.  Before I knew it we were done, I'd clocked 17.2 miles, and I felt about a hundred times better than I had on my 160 minute run just 2 weeks before.

HLMs are the best. So is fuzzy, humidity-affected curly hair.

After getting back to my parents, I immediately hopped into an ice bath to prep myself for the cross-country flight I'd have to take in the next few hours.

My sister was more than happy to help out by pouring
the ice in for me and then taking a picture.

The ice bath, my compression socks, and the amazing luck of having an empty middle seat in my row all worked together to keep my legs from seizing up painfully on my 6 hour flight back to Seattle.

The next day, Tuesday, was team practice.  It was our last interval run of the season, and I was concerned about being able to push the pace the day after my long run.  In fact, I came very close to skipping the run altogether.  But it was peak week, and amazing things happen in peak week.  Instead of feeling tired or slow, my legs felt great.  Me and running buddy James made it twice around Green Lake (5.9 miles) in 47 minutes, with an overall average pace of 7:57--a faster overall average than any of our previous intervals.  No complaining with that one.

Wednesday, I gifted myself with a well earned rest day.

Thursday, running buddy James and I set out for our typical 6+ mile Ballard loop.  We intended to take it slow and easy, but the forces of peak week, a rest day, and a stressful workday combined and, oops, this happened:

Accidental 10K PR.  Smile.

Friday was a rest day again.

And then Saturday, it was time for the 3 hour run.  In Team in Training terms, the 3 hour run is the longest run of the training season.  Each 3 hour run I've done, I've gone just a little further than the previous season.  Last season for Goofy, Erica and I just barely eked out a 20 mile run (we went a couple tenths of a mile at the end to flip the watch to 20 miles).  This time, I was hoping to pace myself correctly and try to make it to 20 miles again.  We did a good job of starting out slow, pacing through the first half, and then speeding up just enough on the second half.  In the end, I made it 20.2 miles, with a minute or 2 to spare.  And I felt great.  This continues my streak of never having a bad 3 hour run.

This means I am officially ready for 26.2 #5!

My GPS watch decided to literally crap out about 2 minutes before I crossed the TNT finish line, so I never pressed stop on the run.  When I got home to plug in the watch, I realized that it was just the face of the watch that decided to die, and my watch therefore recorded not only the 20 miles I ran, but also the 25 miles I drove to get home.  So now, according to Nike+, I have run a 45.1 mile run, the last 25 miles at about a 1 minute pace.  I am amazing.  Starting next Tuesday, I'll be a Garmin girl.  Sorry Nike.

When I tease out the first 20 miles in the splits, it looks like I kept a pace right around 8:55 for the first 10 miles (not including water stops), then upped it to about an 8:40 for the remaining miles, with a random 8:05 for mile 15 and an 8:15 final mile.  Pretty much perfect pacing for what I'd like to see myself do on race day.

And with all those amazing runs under my belt, I'm now officially in taper.  The marathon is 3 weeks away, and I feel ready to tackle that 4 hour time goal.  Now I'm just going to cross my fingers that I'll make it through the taper without any major taper tantrums.  I'm going to channel this lady when I feel the restlessness coming on:

Lucy is an expert in tapering.

That finish line will be here before I know it.

Wedding Recap: Happiness abounds

This weekend, my little brother and my beautiful new little sister tied the knot.  In my eyes (and hopefully theirs too!), it couldn't have been a more perfect weekend.

But let's, just for a moment, clear the air.  Because I know what everyone has been thinking as I discussed attending my brother's wedding over the past months.  I've seen the hesitation, the slight slip of the tongue, the questioning "younger?" look in eyes that have trouble hiding what they're thinking.

And for a moment (just a moment) I almost sunk into the trap.  I didn't write any blog posts last week because I wanted to stay out of my brain.  I was a little worried about what I'd find if I delved too deep.  But that was silly.  I should know myself better than that by now.  Because the moment I walked through my parents' front door and saw my little brother on the day before his wedding day, I felt nothing but joy.

Because here's the thing: why on earth would I allow anyone else's happiness to diminish my own?  I am happy.  I have been happy since I stepped foot in Seattle.  And the fact that my little brother now gets to celebrate a lifetime of happiness with his new wife only serves to increase my own happiness.  I live my life with the knowledge that one day I'll meet a man who will realize just how amazing I am, and he will somehow manage to sweep me off my feet.  Until that happens, I do not intend to spend my days waiting around, feeling sorry for myself.  I have learned how to live my life full of happiness just as I am, and I will never allow seeing others celebrate their own happiness to belittle mine.

But let's stop talking about me.  Because this weekend was not about me.  It was about Nathan and Annalise.  High school sweethearts who have been dating for 10 years.  And after being engaged for 3 years, it's about time we got to officially bring Annalise into our family.

The weekend was amazing for so many reasons.  But what I think I will remember the most is just how amazing my family is.  Of course, my mom and dad, brothers and sister are the best, but so is everyone else. I got to see aunts, uncles, cousins, and other relatives I haven't seen in years.  I saw my grandma, who I haven't seen since I graduated from college 7 years ago.  I got to watch my dad's side of the family interact with my mom's side of the family for the first time.  I got to meet the plethora of new family members that are joining us for the future.  And the best part of it all was, we had a blast.

I haven't seen a single picture from the weekend that didn't include ear to ear smiles.

Me and the groom on the way to the chapel.

Me and my big sis.  Nothing but smiles as my littlest
bro/ best man delivered his best man toast.

Proud ma and pa.

More big smiles with littlest bro and girlfriend doing some sort of sitting
dance that involved lots of hand waving and laughing.

The bride at post-wedding brunch, obviously prepping
for what may happen a couple years down the road...

The rehearsal dinner was full of catching up.  The reception was full of laughs.  And the ceremony was perfect.  My big sister and I played a role in the ceremony as Annalise had asked us to put together a reading.  Which brings me to the point of this post: reprinting it here for everyone to see.

It took us many hours of Sunday morning (or late Sunday evening for my sister in Sweden) FaceTime, many drafts, and many re-writes, to put together the final reading.  

Here it is, unedited:

A good author can say in a short string of words, what it’s taken a lifetime to build.  Today, we've borrowed the words of some childhood favorites to help us share our thoughts.

We’ve watched your love grow throughout the years, and the Velveteen Rabbit describes it best.

     "What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"
     "Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
     "Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
     "Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
     "Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
     "It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."
     "I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled.
     "The Boy's Uncle made me Real," he said. "That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always."

We’ve seen your relationship mature.  We know you are meant for each other, and A.A Milne explains why in Now We Are Six.

     A soul mate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks. When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves step out and we can be completely and honestly who we are; we can be loved for who we are and not for who we're pretending to be. Each unveils the best part of the other. No matter what else goes wrong around us, with that one person we're safe in our own paradise. Our soul mate is someone who shares our deepest longings, our sense of direction. When we're two balloons, and together our direction is up, chances are we've found the right person. Our soul mate is the one who makes life come to life.

Or, as Emily Elizabeth in Nathan’s favorite childhood book, Clifford The Big Red Dog, puts it:

  

     One day I gave Clifford a bath. And I combed his hair and took him to the dog show. I'd like to say Clifford won first prize...but he didn't. I don't care. You can keep all your small dogs. You can keep all your black, white, brown, and spotted dogs. I'll keep Clifford...Wouldn't you?

But we also know that love is compromise, which isn’t always easy.  We think this is best described in one of Annalise’s favorite childhood books, Where the Wild Things Are.

     And on our way... I can show you your kingdom. This is all yours. You're the owner of this world. Everything you see is yours. Oh, except that hole over there, that's Ira's. The tree's yours, but the hole is Ira's. But everything else is yours. Except for that rock over there, that's not yours. That little rock next to the big rock. But everything else in the kingdom... except for that stick. That little stick right there, that's not yours.

Love is also a risk and a leap of faith, as two little leaves show us in the book The Little Yellow Leaf.

     And then, high up on an icy branch, a scarlet flash.
     One more leaf holding tight.
     "You're here?" called the Little Yellow Leaf.
     "I am," said the Little Scarlet Leaf.
     "Like me!" said the Little Yellow Leaf.
     Neither spoke.
     Finally… "Will you?" asked the Little Scarlett Leaf.
     "I will!" said the Little Yellow Leaf.
     And one, two, three, they let go and soared. 

But the best part of it all is when you find the one that you know you can’t live without, like Pooh and Piglet.

     “Pooh” whispered Piglet.
     “Yes, Piglet” replied Pooh.
     “Nothing,” answered Piglet,
     “I just wanted to be sure of you.”

     “If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you.”

     “It’s so much more friendly with two.”

     “Pooh, promise me you won’t forget about me, ever. Not even when I am a hundred.”
     Pooh thought for a little.
     “How old shall I be then?”
     “Ninety-nine.”
     Pooh nodded. “I promise,” he said

.
     “Some people care too much, I think it’s called love.”

And after today, we get to watch as you change and grow together.  And, as with The Giving Tree, you can take comfort in knowing that you’ll always be there for each other.

     And after a long time the boy came back again.
     "I am sorry, Boy," said the tree, "but I have nothing left to give you--My apples are gone."
     "My teeth are too weak for apples," said the boy.
     "My branches are gone," said the tree. "You cannot swing on them."
     "I am too old to swing on branches," said the boy.
     "My trunk is gone," said the tree. "You cannot climb."
     "I am too tired to climb," said the boy.
     "I am sorry," sighed the tree.
     "I wish that I could give you something... but I have nothing left. I am an old stump. I am sorry..."
     "I don't need very much now," said the boy, "just a quiet place to sit and rest. I am very tired."
     "Well," said the tree, straightening herself up as much as she could, "Well, an old stump is a good for sitting and resting. Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest."
     And the boy did.
     And the tree was happy.

Congratulations Nathan and Annalise.  I can't wait to witness all the happiness that the rest of your life together will bring.

Hopefully it'll all be as fun and classy as this post-ceremony
limo bus celebration.

Wonderful Wednesday

Today: a list.

A list of all that is good.  In no particular order.  Just because.

No windy introduction necessary.

1) First grade conversations.  I don't know if they were just on a roll with unintentional humor today, or if I was simply in a more lighthearted mood than I have been lately, allowing me to acknowledge it all.  A random sampling:

First grader #1: "Ms. Kaplan, why isn't it sunny out?!?"
First grader #2: "Because Mother Nature LIES."
The sincere incredulity inherent in the first statement was only overshadowed by the emphatic anger of the second.

"Have you seen this before?": A statement made by the smallest, sweetest, most innocent-looking girl in my class to her best friend as she simultaneously raises her elbow high, holding her first up to her ear, looking cocked to punch said best friend in the face.  While the shock settles in and I prep for a mad dash across the classroom, best friend raises her fist for a bump, and they proceed to blow it up while smiling the biggest smiles I've ever seen on 7 year old princesses.

First grader at pack-up time with exasperation: "Oh, NOW the sun is out."
Ms. Kaplan: "Perfect! Just in time to go home and play outside!"
First grader: "But I'm going to go home and play video games."
Ms. Kaplan: "Or you could go home and go outside and not play video games."
First grader: "But they're so fun.  Ugh, why did they have to invent video games?"
Ms. Kaplan: "Good question."

2) A solo run.  I love running with friends.  Lately, it's all I've been doing and it's been great.  But sometimes I forget how amazingly therapeutic it can be to pound it out on a solo run.  Especially when you get home and see these mile splits:

See those pretty green numbers?  Perfect.  Negative.  Splits.

3)  Worry-free (and $$ free) lunch.  It is Teacher Appreciation Week.  At my school, PTA provides lunch for all staff all week long.  It's crazy how great it is to not have to worry about packing a lunch every morning.

4)  More sunshine.  Sunshine has become the cowbell of my life.  More cowbell please.

5)  The collective sigh over spilled milk.  A poor unfortunate kindergartner, back from a field trip, clutching a small carton of chocolate milk while standing outside amidst a crowd of teachers waiting for the buses to take off at the end of the day, drops the milk carton and it sprays in an arc across the sidewalk.  Every adult standing nearby collectively sighs, "Awwwww..." and then smiles as the child looks up, lost and forlorn.

6)  Amazing friends.  Who show their support in incredible ways.

7)  A perfectly ripe avocado.  Pure deliciousness.  For the salad I simply can't get enough of lately.

Kale, grapefruit, avocado, sunflower seeds, and a
homemade citrus/olive oil dressing.  Drool.

8)  Multitasking.  I am an amazing multitasker between the hours of 7:30 AM and 4 PM Monday through Friday.  But I typically use up all my multitasking mojo during those times.  Today, I was able to multitask at home, long after my 4 PM cutoff.

Foam rolling and taking a bath.  At the same time.

Eight good things on a pretty average day.

Even if nothing fantastic or outstanding happens, every day has something good to give.  You just have to keep your eyes open wide enough to find it.

Not a moment wasted

All that complaining about May sneaking up on me last week?  I take it back.  Bring it on.  With the week I just had, I all of a sudden find myself counting down the days to this marathon and summer vacation.  It suddenly can't come soon enough.  

But, if there's one thing I've learned from being on a team like Team in Training, it's that you shouldn't waste a minute of life waiting for something else to happen.  Not even one.  Every week I hear stories of people whose lives were cut too short or stories of those who survived and now live their lives with a new amount of zeal and appreciation.  Each story reminds me that life is fragile and can change in an instant.  So I try my best to live each moment now as if the next one might not be coming.

And this past weekend, I spent every conceivable minute possible doing exactly what I wanted to be doing.

Soaking up the sun.

This newly bloomed patch of freckles (or "sun kisses" as I like to think of
them) is evidence of the properly sun-screened exposure.  While my father
carries his freckles year-round, mine only turn up when touched by the sun.

As I've mentioned before, everything about sunshine in Seattle makes me smile.  And this weekend was no exception.

It started Friday night with a long Lucy walk followed by some solo carb-loading for my Saturday long run and an early bedtime.  I am super exciting on Fridays.

Nothing but blue skies for our Friday evening walk through Phinney Ridge.

Saturday morning, I woke up bright and early to take on a 160 minute long run with Team.  I slathered on the sunscreen, donned my purple passion t-shirt and capris (no shorts for me on long runs no matter how hot...ouch), readied my fuel belt, and headed to Matthew's Beach to meet the Team.  The weather couldn't have been more perfect for this run.  Cool in the shade, almost a little too hot in the sun, and a nice little breeze here and there.

After last week's resolution to reclaim my Queen of Negative Splits crown, I wanted to start this run off slow and easy.  Luckily, two of my faster-paced teammates were on board for this slower-paced start.  Unfortunately, my GPS watch failed to connect to satellites at the beginning of the run, so my split times were based only on the shoe pod, which is nowhere near reliable (it cut my actual distance by over a mile and who knows what it did to my pace).  But, I think we kept pretty close to a 9 min pace or just under for the first half of the run.

The second half of the run, where in past weeks I've felt like absolute crap and have gotten slower every mile, was just what I wanted this week.  I remembered to GU at all the times I wanted to, took some sport beans in between, and stopped at all the Team water stops to hydrate and refill my fuel belt.  By the time we hit our last turnaround, with about 4 miles to go, I was feeling pretty great.  Yes, my legs had the typical long run lead feeling and didn't exactly move very easily anymore, but I felt I had energy to spare.  I unintentionally picked up my pace a little (perhaps pushing my running buddies a little faster than they wanted to go, sorry!) and powered through the final miles, trying my best to ignore my aching legs.  I felt like I accomplished some great mental training for race day--the heart was in it, even though the muscles were more than ready to be done.

And in the end, we got back about 2 and a half minutes early.  So you know what that means: negative splits!  Finishing strong!  Best long run yet this season.  Confidence officially boosted.

While my watch wanted to tell me I only did 16 miles, my running buddies registered a more accurate 17+ miles.  With this great run and my great-feeling interval run from last Tuesday, I'm starting to feel a little more like a marathoner again.

After the run, we all jumped into Lake Washington up to our hips for an "ice bath."  Ice baths are MUCH more enjoyable with friends.  We should have taken a picture of the 10 of us in the water.  Oh well, next time.

And then, since the sun was shining and the weather was warm, we all hung out on the beach with our potluck breakfast, relaxing in the grass, resting our tired legs for an hour and a half.  Not a bad way to spend a Saturday morning.

When I got home, I spent just enough time indoors to shower off all the salt that coated my face, arms and legs, get cleaned up, and grab Lucy.  We dropped off my car for a much needed oil change, and then I proceeded to walk Lucy around the hills of Queen Anne for an hour while we waited.  It started off ok, but by the end, my legs were screaming at me.  They wanted to be done for the day.

But no, not a minute of sunshine to waste.  In Seattle, despite what the weatherman may say, the sunshine can disappear at any moment.  And then who knows when it'll come back.  There's a reason why we are a city full of sun-worshipers who appreciate every moment it's around.

The rest of the day consisted of margaritas on the deck of the delicious Mexican place down the block from me, more Mexican beer at a block party in Green Lake, and then an entertaining evening of watching a very theatrical and enthusiastic San Diego based rugby team sing karaoke at a bar in Queen Anne.

By the time I crashed into my bed, I couldn't keep my eyes open for more than a minute.

I gloriously slept in until 9:30 Sunday morning (I know, I definitely wasted some sunshine time there, but I don't consider my Sunday morning sleep-ins to be a waste of time).  After rolling out of bed, I took Lucy out for another long walk in the sun before heading out to Kirkland for our second Ragnar team meeting.  While we sat outside at our potluck lunch, discussing the logistics of the weekend, I somehow managed to claim the longest, most difficult leg of the race (runner #7, 21.9 miles, the last 2 legs of which are both 8+ miles and considered "very hard" according to Ragnar standards).  As MacKenzie put it, I "like a challenge."  We'll see how my legs like the challenge less than a month after my marathon.  I am secretly excited though.

From the meeting in Kirkland, I headed home to pick up Lucy and a bag of ice, and headed out to West Seattle to meet HLM Sierra in the park in front of her apartment on Beach Drive.

Not a bad view.

I spent the next 3 hours enjoying the last dregs of weekend sun with Sierra, Lucy, and Bob cat.  That's right.  Bob cat.  If you were walking/running/rollerblading/cycling along Beach Drive at any time yesterday between the hours of 4 and 7, you couldn't have missed us.  We were the two girls in sundresses stretched out on a blanket with a large dog and matching cat on a leash, a small cooler of tasty drinks, some cheesy snacks, 2 very thick books, and travel Scrabble perched between us.  We are nerds.  I am 100% ok with that.

Sierra = crazy cat lady in the park.  The looks on the faces of passersby were
priceless.

Lucy, Queen of the Sunshine, protecting us from any fly that dared come near.

Sierra and I are awesome Scrabblers.  Seriously.

I reluctantly dragged myself home at 7 to clean up from the day and begin mentally prepping for Monday.  To say it was hard to go back today would be an understatement.  The sun kept shining all day, the classroom got it's summertime afternoon stuffy heat, and after driving home from work this afternoon, my car thermometer registered this crazy number:

In Seattle.  In the beginning of May.  I swear it's not photo-shopped.

This wonderful weekend gave me a taste of what summer could be.  I relished every conceivable moment of it.  And now, my brain seems suddenly switched into summer preparedness mode.  Time to get the bike tuned up.  Time to air out the swim suits.  Time to pull out the running shorts.

But, until then, I'm not going to waste any of the time that is here now.  There is more sun to be celebrated this week.  And when the rains come again, I'll listen to the pitter patter on my window and remember that rain has a beauty of its own too.

Weekends like this remind me that every inch of every day should be a celebration of all that is good right now.  I'm going to try my best not to waste a single minute.

A much needed boost

A couple of days ago (or maybe it was weeks or even months...who knows with the speed by which time has been passing lately), I saw quote/meme/picture/whatever-the-techie-term-is inspirational thing on Facebook.  While thinking through this post today, I fully intended to go find it and post it here, but after a much too lengthy fruitless search in the never-ending depths of my newsfeed and even a half-hearted Google search, I turned up empty-handed.  Here is the closest thing I found:

Definitely on the cheesy side, but the theme is on par.

The quote I was vaguely remembering went something like this: "Disappointments are just the beginning of the unforeseen better/new/improved/full-of-opportunity/beautiful/open-doored path before you."  In case you can't tell, I totally just made that up.  But I think it sounds Facebook quotish enough (that's is a word in my dictionary, Mr. Spell Check).

By the way, Mr. Spell Check, "newsfeed," "hearted," and "doored" are also words in the dictionary of Tessa.  You can take your squiggly red lines and find someone else to harass.

I digress.  Let's get to the point here.

I've had a few disappointments lately.  Some larger than others, but disappointments nonetheless.  So when a disappointment, no matter how small, does flip itself into a positive, I can't help but smile and say, "Thanks, Universe."  Not to sound pompous, but in the balance of karma, I feel like I should have a few good things coming my way in the future.  Sometimes it's good to see them come to fruition, no matter how small.

So, let's define my negative/positive payoff this week.

The disappointment:  I've been trying, despite a packed schedule, to fit in Monday boot camps wherever I can.  For the last couple months, I've been fairly unsuccessful.  I know that strengthening is really important for running, and I've always failed at it, so I wanted to do as much as I could this time around.  I was super excited on Monday because it was going to be the first time I'd been able to make two weeks in a row of boot camp since mid-February (not exaggerating, OCD-style training log shows proof).  I packed my boot camp bag and brought it to school with me ready for 40 after-school minutes of excruciating but wonderful pain.  

So you can imagine my disappointment when a mid-afternoon staff email when out with the unfortunate subject line: "boot camp cancelled."  Boo.  Hiss.  Universe, you suck.

I took my sadface home, gave Lucy a bonus 45 minute walk, and wrote an "I suck at marathon training" blog post.

At least somebody got some enjoyment out of the day.

The unforeseen better/new/improved/full-of-opportunity/beautiful/open-doored path before me: I wasn't feeling very excited about Tuesday's Team run.  Tuesday Team practices are our "workout" runs.  We do things like hill repeats, tempos, and intervals.  Whether I've been sore from Monday boot camp, or just plain exhausted from my over-booked weekends, I've felt tired on almost every Tuesday run this season.  I have no desire to be the fastest (that's a lie) or the best (also a lie), but I'd at least appreciate a run where I feel on top of the world.  Is that too much to ask, Universe?

Apparently not.  Because it totally happened.

We did intervals on Tuesday.  The interval run consisted of a 10 minute warm up, 30 minutes of 5 minute intervals (3 mins "on" and 2 mins "off"), and then a 10 minute cool down.  I tried to start slow, keeping in mind my own advice and desire to get back to my self-designated Negative Split Queen status.  It paid off:

Not showing warm up and cool down, the interval splits.
If you try to tell me 6:54 is slower than 6:52, I will strangle
you and then point out the 2 second difference in the time
and then the mileage of the split itself.  Dead on the same.

And then Nike+ congratulated me by showing me this when I got home and plugged in the watch:

Read those little red banners at the top.  I've been logging
my runs to this website for a year and a half.  Those little
guys mean fastest EVER.

Joshua Radin is currently singing to soundtrack of my life from my computer speakers as I write:

"It's a brand new day

The sun is shining

It's brand new day

For the first time, in such a long long time

I know, I'll be ok."

I could be being over-dramatic here, but I'm taking the win and running with it (ha, pun).  At least for a little while.  I won't say I've re-earned my Queen of Negative Splits title, but I could be on my way.  We'll see after my 17 miles this coming weekend.

And now, because I am a blogger and I love to over-analyze things, let's talk about all the things that could have contributed to this amazing run:

1)  No boot camp.  My legs weren't sore.  My body wasn't tired.  I was well rested, despite the marathon nightmare I'd had the evening before.  This is pretty much the main reason why I think I killed this run.  See the whole turning a negative into a positive thing?  It works.

2)  A day at the zoo.  Tuesday was first grade field trip day.  I got to spends hours out in the sun looking at cute animals at my favorite zoo, catching up with a co-worker that I unfortunately don't get to spend much "outside of work" time with anymore.  Sunshine, animals, and good friends are all good for the soul.

3)  A running buddy.  The last couple Tuesdays, after a warm-up with some running friends, I usually am left in the dust by and/or speed ahead of everyone else for the workout portion of the run.  Pushing through hill reps, tempos, or intervals are no fun on your own.  Erica and I have always been really good at keeping each other going through these tough runs.  But, as I may have mentioned just a few times, Erica is coaching.  And therefore not running with me.  But yesterday, new fast runner friend James was feeling a little tired and stuck with me.  Even through these runs, where "conversation" isn't quite physically possible, it's still nice to have someone at your side.  For me, just having someone there makes a big difference.

4)  Any number of other factors.  Hydration.  Food.  Sleep.  Karma.  Life convergences that I am completely unaware of.

The major lesson I'm taking away from all of this?  Besides the whole turning a negative into a positive thing, I think I'm going to forgo boot camp at least until taper time.  My legs loved the rest day.  If by simply giving them a day of rest they will continue to perform as they did yesterday, I think I can make the sacrifice.

Now I'm ready to ride this high into the weekend.  I'm crossing my fingers for a long run of epic proportions.  Or maybe just one I feel good on and earn myself some negative split bonus points.  Let's not set the expectations too high here.

Let's do this, Universe.