Self Improvement

I've spent a lot of time the past couple of weeks thinking about how I'm going to train for whatever race comes next while hopefully 1) enjoying myself; and 2) not feeling like crap in the middle of the race, and I've come to a few conclusions as to how I'm going to accomplish this. Here they are:

1) Get a watch. Ever since I started this whole running thing, I have been anti-watch. At first it was because I just simply wanted to finish a marathon, I didn't need to be bogged down with the details of how long it was going to take me. And then, after I had finished the marathon and I started working on getting faster this summer, I still wasn't interested in a watch. I didn't want to become obsessed with speed and time. I just wanted to run and enjoy it, and hopefully be faster in the process. It worked at first. But the more I run, the more I realize that I have absolutely no concept of how fast I'm going. Which is just fine and dandy when running loops around the river, but not so awesome for running races. My little problem of starting too fast could be easily helped if I had a watch to tell me to slow down a bit, not to mention, if I wear a watch to train, I would actually know what too slow and too fast for me are. I realize these are things I probably should have figured out a long long time ago...

2) Have a training schedule. Running as far as you want, as fast as you want ,whenever you feel like it is fun and certainly has its merits, but there's something to be said for having some sort of plan to all of those miles. I followed a training schedule (sort of) for the marathon last year and I was in good shape for those 26 miles, I did not follow any sort of training schedule for my races this summer and, well... some of them were good, some of them were bad. Sure, not every race you train for is going to go well, but actually training for said races seems to be the first step. I think I would probably benefit from having a little structure to my training and being accountable for some runs. Of course, I'll still go on my city-wandering runs, but (and this is another place where the watch could come in handy) maybe, just maybe, having some sort of plan for mileage may be helpful.

3) Buy some new running clothes. Because everything is a little more fun in new clothes :)

4) Attitude adjusment. I have got to stop beating myself up everytime I have a bad run or race, which is easier said than done. I expect a lot of myself, and hopefully, with a little preparation, I'll be able live up to it. But all the preparation and training in the world can't prevent bad runs and disappointment from happening sometimes. So, I'm going to try to shift from expecting myself to do better to having goals for improvement. A goal is just that, a goal. Sometimes you achieve it, sometimes you don't, but in the end, if you did all you could do, you can still be proud. Sure, there will still be times when I'm disappointed in my performance, but hopefully with a little attitude adjustment I won't take it so hard and I'll be able to grow from it. Hopefully.

5) Eat healthier. By no means does this translate to "Go on a diet." But, that being said, food is fuel and this is especially true for runners. What you eat can have a huge impact on your performance. I will be the first to admit that I don't have a particularly healthy diet. I love pizza and cookies and brownies and ice cream (I tend to lean toward the sweets end of the food spectrum), but I can't help but think that perhaps my running might benefit if I included some, oh, I don't know, fruits and vegetables into my baked goods filled meals. Interestingly enough, I went to the doctor not to long ago and I told her about the muscle cramping I had had during the BAA Half, as well as the sometimes extreme fatigue I feel in my legs during runs or even just walking, and the first thing she asked me was what I eat. When I told her a typical day's meals, she asked if I took a vitamin (apparently my food intake wasn't exactly nutrient rich). So, while I am usually one to rebel against any and all advice about taking care of myself (I'm not so sure why I'm so contrary when it comes to this) I think I actually might take the good doc's advice on this one.

So, while these all seem like great ways to help me out with my running, it's really easy for me to sit here and say I'm going to do all of this stuff. The not so easy is me actually doing it all, and the jury is still out on how well I actually follow through. I am determined, though, to have my next big race (which right now looks to be the Miami Half in January) be a good one. But of course, if it's not, that attitude adjustment that I'm going to give myself sure will come in handy...

I'm a little bit country...

I spent this past weekend visiting some of my family out in the Berkshires in Western Massachusetts. For anyone that doesn't know, that means that I spent my weekend basically in the middle of nowhere. While I'm usually a city person, sometimes I desperately need to escape Boston, and a visit out to the Berkshires for some family, good food and beautiful surroundings usually does the trick. When I'm out there I typically consider it a break from all things everyday life, which includes running, but this past weekend, on a beautifully warmish-cool Saturday morning, the roads called to me and I felt obligated to answer. I chose one of the flatter roads around the area- and when I say flatter, I really mean not mountainous, because that's how most of the roads there are- and I just ran. I ran through corn fields and cow pastures, past beautiful homes and majestic mountain tops. It began to mist a bit and I couldn't help but be reminded of the race this past summer in Stowe, one of my best races all year. The scenery was remarkably similar (with the absence of all the other runners and only 5 cows, no bonus horses) and the weather felt exactly the same. And, in addition to these similarities, just like at Stowe, my legs felt like they could run forever. Perhaps this running in the country thing suits me...

Krazy gives her legs a rest from running: Day 1

Tonight, on my first day of rest from running, I went for a run. Bad idea? Maybe. But, man, did it feel great.

I don't know if this is an issue for everyone else as much as it is for me, but my mind is in constant battle with my body when it comes to running. When my body feels good, my head is elsewhere. When my head really needs a good run, my legs won't cooperate. It's only on the rare occasion that my head and my body come together, and it's on those occasions that my best runs happen. Well, tonight, my head really needed a good mind clearing run, and it pleaded with my legs to please, please cooperate... and, in a surprising turn of events, my legs happily obliged.

It was a beautiful night for a run, my ipod was on fire, and it felt as though my feet were barely touching the ground as I cruised around the river. My quad is already letting me know that running may not have been the best idea I've ever had, but the peace that I felt for that 40 or so minutes was well worth any aches and pains that I will end up suffering. It was exactly the kind of run that I've missed, and exactly what I needed to forget about Sunday's race. I can rest my legs tomorrow.

The BAA Half (I don't have it in me to come up with a witty title)

The BAA Half Marathon was this past Sunday.  It was... umm... not my best race.  On the one hand, it wasn't entirely surprising to me that it was a tough one (I didn't exactly train to run 13 miles).  So, given that, I know I should just be happy that I finished and lived to tell about it.  But the thing that did me in wasn't the distance.  I actually felt pretty okay with the 13 miles.  What kept me from coming even close to beating my last half marathon time was my own stupid legs.  Well, just one of them... the left one, the left thigh to be exact.  It cramped up on every single even marginal incline after about mile 4.  It was a hilly course.  It was not fun.  

In addition to the fact that the whole thing was extremely painful, I can't think of many things that are more frustrating than having your own body sabotage you.  When I ran Falmouth and had a bad race, I, of course, was frustrated with the fact that it didn't go well, but I also felt pretty horrible from the very beginning of the race which allowed me to adjust my goal from running for a time to simply just making it to the finish line.  The thing about the race on Sunday was that I actually felt great.  My body felt good.  My legs felt fresh.  I woke up feeling ready to run.  The weather was cool and crisp.  Everything was lined up for me to have a good day.  And for the first four miles, I did.  And then, somewhere during mile 4 or so, on the slightest of inclines, what seemed to be all of the muscles in my left thigh seized up simultaneously into one big, painful, impossible to ignore knot.  I walked for a few steps, allowed the cramp to release, and continued on my way, a little shaken up, but still feeling ok.  I approached the next hill and started up, and my leg cramped up again.  And that's when I knew it was going to be a long race.  But, unlike at Falmouth, other than my left leg, I still felt remarkably good which made it hard for me to adjust.

So, the race wasn't great.  I was pretty unhappy with myself by the time I finally finished.  Though I hadn't really trained for the distance, I had worked hard all summer to get faster and stronger and when the time came to put all of that hard work to use, my body failed me.  It was the ultimate disappointment.

I've spent the past two days thinking about the race... I've had bad races and bad runs before, but for some reason this one has really stuck with me.  Maybe it's because this is one of the first times that I've had a running goal that was ambitious, but I also felt like was really within my reach.  I know I could have beaten my previous half marathon time.  I just know that I had that in me.  I felt like I have gotten to be a better runner over this summer and I think that I wanted the half marathon to be my proof of that.  And while I know somewhere inside me that's it's only one race, and bad races happen, and one bad race doesn't negate all of the work that I've done to improve my running, in the aftermath of a disappointing race, it's been hard to convince myself that that's all true.

Needless to say, I'm a bit disenchanted with running right now.  Maybe I should take a break from it.  In fact, that was my original plan.  Once the half was over I was going to find something other than running to do for a bit, give my legs a rest for a few weeks, give myself a chance to miss running so maybe it wouldn't seem like such a chore.  It seemed like a great idea... well, until the half was actually over and I was faced with the reality that I had just imposed a break on myself from the thing that has enhanced my life in more ways than I can even count.  I had finally accepted the fact that I have, indeed, become a runner... if I'm not running, what am I going to do?? 

That being said, I do think I owe my legs a break, which I will give them.  My leg muscle cramping I'm sure was a cry for rest from my overworked legs.  But, aside from that little break, I'm going to keep running... not for speed or miles or time or any goal, but just for fun, to clear my head, to get outside and enjoy the fall in Boston- the reasons I used to go for a run, and why I started to enjoy doing it in the first place.  I think once running is fun for me again, I'll be able to get back into training and trying to improve again.  I do know that I've become a better runner already, and I know that the half marathon this weekend is not the be all and end all indicator of how far I've come (or not come) as a runner.  

If anything, the half actually has shown me how far I've come as a person.  A year ago, I, first of all, would not have dreamed of running 13 miles, but, more importantly, I would have mercilessly punished myself for the race that I ran on Sunday- mentally and physically.  Yes, I'm disappointed in my race, and yes, I've thought a lot about it the past couple of days, but the difference is I haven't been analyzing what went wrong during the race in order to punish myself, I have been thinking about my race in order to figure out how I can use it to be better- and not just better at running, but better at handling my disappointment and turning it into something positive.  That is something that my former, non-running self would have never even considered.

So, in the end, no, the BAA Half was not all that I dreamed that it would be, it was not the race I had wanted to run, and I certainly would not want to relive it.  But, despite my initial feelings of disappointment in my run, I'm not disappointed in myself.  I had a hard run but I finished the race.  I have tried to get everything positive out of the experience that I can (and written the longest blog entry ever in the process... sorry) and now I'm moving on.  Marathon training isn't too far off...

Here we go again...

Woohoo! I am a DFMC team member again. Yes, that's right, I now have the opportunity to spend countless hours running the Newton hills on cold, dark Thursday nights, to wake up at the crack of dawn on a frigid Saturday morning in January to run 15 miles, to spend my weekend afternoons crafting and editing fundraising emails, to run around in endless circles at the Tufts indoor track, and, at the end of it all, run 26.2 hilly miles into Boston. Yay!!

Receiving my acceptance via email this year was decidedly less exciting than last. Last year, I distinctly remember coming home from work, dropping my gigantic bag on the floor of my bedroom, tossing my jacket on my bed and walking over to my computer to check my email, expecting to have nothing more than a few emails from Banana Republic and JCrew touting whatever sale they happened to be having that week. I had given up on my application to DFMC the week before. Stopped running (not that I had been running a lot to begin with, but it had been a start), stopped expectantly checking my email, started thinking of other things that I could do for the winter. But then, there it was, "Lauren Krzynowek, welcome to the Dana-Farber 2008 Marathon Challenge 2008 invitational roster!" I remember laughing, and dancing around my apartment, calling my dad, and running upstairs to tell my neighbors (Ashley wasn't home, so I needed to tell someone). No one could believe that I had actually applied to run a marathon... in fact, they couldn't even believe that I had any desire to run a marathon in the first place. Regardless of their doubts, I was beyond excited.

Looking back, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. No idea. I've said it a million times, the DFMC experience is life changing. But on that day, when I received that email, I thought I was just going to do a little bit more running for the next few months... how wrong I was. I was in for a lot of hard work, a lot of tired mornings, a lot of frustration, and a lot of tears. Not to mention a lot of laughter, a lot of beers, a lot of smiles and a LOT of great friends.

This year, my acceptance email from the DFMC office didn't quite provoke any dance moves, but that's certainly not to say that I'm not excited. Quite the contrary, actually. I have been looking forward to the DFMC season starting up again since I was forced (by social conventions) to take off my shiny, new, blue and yellow medal and return to life as normal on April 22. I recognize that, from the outside, it seems a bit crazy to apply to do all of the hard work (running and otherwise) that DFMC requires, and it probably seems even crazier to apply to do it all a second time, knowing what is in store for me, but I loved every minute of my DFMC experience last year. And while I, of course, am dreading certain things that I didn't know any better than to be excited for last year (20 milers, cold mornings, track workouts), I'm excited to experience all of these things now as a DFMC veteran. So, bring on the training season, DFMC! Bring on the cold butts and the peanut m&m's and the running in circles and the runner's meetings and the hills! It's good to be back...

Speed is relative... and I'm relatively faster

A wise man named Jack Fultz once told me that speed is relative. I, being not so wise, laughed at this, thinking it merely a ploy to make slower runners like me feel not so crappy about their not so speedy running capabilities. Well, maybe it is a ploy, but, regardless, I took it upon myself this summer to become relatively faster, and, believe it or not, it sort of worked! And, something I learned about being relatively faster is that running becomes relatively more fun the faster you get. Yes, you read that right, I said running was fun. I ran a race this past Thursday night and it was actually fun. And I don't just mean the after party was fun (that's a given). I mean the bobbing and weaving, heavy breathing, sweaty, heart pounding, legs screaming, "left foot, right foot, repeat," act of running was FUN! Yes, dear readers, it has finally happened, I believe I have officially lost my mind.

This past Thursday was the last in a 5 part race series on the Charles River. One Thursday a month for the duration of the summer, runners gathered at the Marsh Post near the Elliot Bridge in Cambridge, and ran in a big, overcrowded, clump for 4.2 miles around the river until reaching their final destination... free beer. The races were something I really looked forward to each month. A great chance to get a run in, and then hang out with friends, listen to a cover band, and drink some Harpoon underneath a starry sky. All summer I have used these runs as a sort of gauge for my progress on "Project Run Faster" (I just decided that's what I'm going to call my quest for speed). Each race, I made it my goal to cut just a little bit off of my time from the previous race. Overall, I was pretty successful at doing this, though some races were more difficult than others.

This last race, I had the pleasure of running with Tyler (no, I didn't get THAT much faster... he was taking this one easy because he had another race the next day). As we ran through the inevitable clusterfuck at the beginning of the race, I was feeling pretty good. The air was cool and clear, my favorite weather to run in, and my legs were feeling very energetic. While I normally feel anxious for the first mile or so of a race- even these small, familiar races- this time I felt calm and relaxed. We joked around, Tyler made monkey noises and quacked at the ducks, and during parts of the run when I could feel my legs start to get a little bit tired, I turned my concentration towards whatever it was that Tyler and I were talking about and just kept running. As we made the last turn, just before the final mile of the race, Tyler asked me, "Ok Krazy, what do you have left for the last mile?" which I knew meant that I was supposed to turn up the speed, but at that moment, I wasn't quite sure that my legs had anything left in them. "I'll let you know in a minute," I responded back, hoping that maybe by the time a minute went by either I would be a little less tired or he would have forgotten that he asked in the first place. After a minute, maybe a little more, I decided that, this being the last race of the summer, I was going to finish with everything that I had left. I picked up the pace a little and heard Tyler just behind me, encouraging me to pass people. You know in the movie Seabiscuit, the one about the race horse, how all it takes for Seabiscuit to kick butt in a race is for him to see the eyes of the horse that he is running against, and then he just takes off. Well, that's sort of how I felt on Thursday. After I passed one person in that final mile, that was really all I needed to forget the heavy feeling in my legs, and I ran as fast as I could through to the finish. When I got to the finish line, I was more than surprised to see that the clock said 37:25. 37 minutes, 25 seconds, which I quickly realized in my head meant that I had done two (relatively) incredible things : 1) I had run under 9 minute miles, and 2) I had run 2 minutes faster in this race than I had in the last one. (HUGE thanks to Tyler for making me run (relatively) fast... I wouldn't have done it myself). And the most miraculous part of it all is that, despite feeling tired, I had fun the whole time, and finished with a smile. (another huge thanks to Ty for that one too)

So maybe it's not that running relatively faster makes it more fun... maybe it's that all the fun people are fast, so when you can finally keep up with them (or can convince them to run relatively slower with you), running is a whole lot more enjoyable. Whatever it is, my final summer race was all I could have ever asked for it to be. Next up- I look to continue the success of "Project Run Faster" at the BAA Half Marathon in October... I'm pretty sure Tyler's not going to be willing to run this one with me, so I'm going to have to figure out a way to entertain myself for 13 miles... or find someone else who will make monkey noises during the race...

Life Lessons at the Falmouth Road Race

This past weekend I, along with several friends, went down to the Cape and ran the Falmouth Road Race.   After a fantastic day at our friend Steve's house exploring, fishing and enjoying an absolutely beautiful day in Brewster, we all woke up early for a long and traffic-full drive to Falmouth.  For anyone who doesn't know, the Falmouth Road Race is huge, and runs along some of the most scenic seven miles of the Cape Cod coast line.  After all of the great things I had heard about the race, and on the heels of two races that I had run very well, I was really excited for this one.  When I woke up the morning of the race, though, I was acutely aware of the fact that the feeling I had had the morning before the race in Stowe, that "I'm Ready" feeling, was not quite there.  It wasn't that I was unprepared, or that I didn't want to run, I just didn't quite feel right.  

Anyways, I started the race, and I knew after 3 miles that this was not going to be my day.  I felt so awful that I had to walk for a little bit, and, as I walked, I started to contemplate my options.  I could, 1) just keep running at a respectable pace until I passed out- which, honestly, I don't think was far from happening at that point; 2) slow down my pace and focus on just getting through the next mile and a half (there was a Dana-Farber cheering section at mile 5.5 where some friends were); or 3) walk the rest of the race, which honestly I don't think I would have allowed myself to do anyways, but I considered it.  I decided to go with option number 2 and I told myself that if I just jogged the next mile and a half, I would be okay.  The first mile went by quickly, but the half a mile after that seemed more like 10.  As I got to the DF cheering section though, I heard my friend Lindsey yell out "Go Lauren," and I decided to keep trucking along for the next mile and a half to the finish.  That last mile and a half sucked, to say the least, saved only by the cheering crowd and the light breeze that broke up the brutal heat every once and a while.  There was a monster hill in the last half mile, and I willed my legs to do their best attempt at a run up the entire thing.  On the downhill to the finish, I didn't even have it in me to speed up, I just focused my sights on the finish line and forced my body to carry me to it.

When I crossed the finish line, all I wanted to do was cry.  I don't know if it was because I was so tired, or if I was disappointed in my run, or if they were tears of joy that I had even finished the race at all, perhaps it was a combination of all three, but when I found my friends waiting after I had finished, it was all I could do to hold back the tears.  After getting some food and cooling down a bit, we got to talking about having bad races and the best way to use your feelings from that in some constructive way.  I have to say that I've typically been one of those "Beat yourself up over it" types.  I take all of the frustration and disappointment from a badly played game, or a badly run race, and I berate myself with it until I'm more frustrated and disappointed, and then I use those feelings to force myself to get better at whatever it is that started the frustration and disappointment to begin with.  It's a viscous cycle, and one that isn't exactly constructive, as I usually end up burning myself out when forcing myself to get better.  While it may seem obvious that this is not the best way to handle things, it has taken me nearly 25 years to come to this realization.  I think that years of basketball and soccer coaches in my youth, yelling and having us do drills until our legs nearly fell off whenever we made a mistake, firmly embedded this response to disappointment into my head.  But now, I think I'm finally starting to get it.

In the car yesterday, my friend Angie mentioned that she had read something that said when you have a bad run, you should write down all of the things that went badly about it, and then draw a circle and write all of the things that were in your control on the inside of the circle, and all of the things that were out of your control on the outside.  The idea seemed silly to me yesterday when I was still stewing over my bad race, but now that I've had some time to think about it, it makes perfect sense.  While I didn't literally write or draw anything, it's easy for me to see that I don't think there was much I could have done to fix yesterday's race.  I was prepared to run seven miles, even seven hilly miles; I was prepared to run in the heat, I have been doing it all summer; I was ready in pretty much any way I could have been, it just wasn't my day.  So, instead of locking myself in the gym for the rest of the week, and running my legs to death around the river to beat them into submission, I'm just going to continue running and training like I have been, and enjoying it like I have been.  I'm not going to let one race that didn't quite go my way throw everything off track.  There will always be more races...