Saturday 20: Tour de Roswell

I couldn't motivate for this run.

It was my last 20 miler before I taper for the GA ING marathon that is on March 29th. I don't have huge goals for the marathon. Sure, I'd love a pr but I am running it because I want to be one of those people that run it every year. Like those that have run the Peachtree every year except I will be way cooler than them because the ING marathon is 20 miles longer. Also, I keep hoping that eventually this will be a good marathon. Practice makes perfect, right?

I had planned to run 21 on Friday. My East Cobb loop from my house. But my calf muscles were being very uncooperative; tight, heavy, needed a rest day. It happens. I could have run through it but my Dad said he would watch the kids Saturday morning so why have an uncomfortable run if you don't have to I figured? I like running to feel good and it just wasn't feeling good for me Friday. I was bummed though because I do like to stick to my plans.

The past few weeks I have had some fantastic, near epic runs. Like I mentioned in a previous post, the running has been good. Very good. I also knew that I was pushing hard and that it wouldn't last. But i could see the taper looming so I just wanted to keep pushing as hard as could until then. But this week my body pushed back and pretty much told me to f-off Friday morning. I wasn't surprised but it did bum me out.

After last Friday's 24 mile run with Kate I ran again Saturday morning. Just a short run on treadmill before yoga but the 7:39 pace I average was pretty aggressive for me the day after a long hard run. Then I did yoga. And then I did yoga on Sunday too. Then I drank lots of beer because it snowed and that is what you do when it snows in Atlanta. I think it is like how in Key West they hunker down in the bars when a hurricane hits and drink themselves under the table.

Then Monday I decided to switch my usual 12 mile run to Wed and do my treadmill intervals instead because it was cold and windy and I knew I would get enough cold on my bike ride Tuesday. This was a mistake and I knew it would be. But nevertheless I got my treadmill intervals done. My calves were fatigued and I ended up bailing on the cool down portion of the workout and cutting out a mile and half.

Tuesday was the 47 mile bike ride to the Capitol and back. I definitely pushed too hard on the ride back. I was just thinking about what I was capable of that day not what else I had planned for the week. Also, since I've only been riding like once a month the past few months, really a 47 bike ride is a long ride for me. It is hard effort and I just forgot to think about it that way.

Wednesday I ran in the Alps on Brett's long run route. Just kidding but that is how it felt. I thought I ran on hills but apparently Woodstock is hillier than East Cobb or Roswell. I cried uncle after 11 miles. I swear the entire run felt harder than any of my 24 miles I ran last Friday. Lesson in hubris for sure.

Thursday I did an easy 6 miles on my tiny hills and then an hour of yoga. I thought that was a pretty good recovery day but I found out Friday morning it wasn't enough. So I bailed on Friday's run getting in only 3 miles for the day. It happens.

So Saturday I was gung ho and determined. But my run did not start out stellar. Again my calves were saying, no please, no running today. I thought about listening to them but then decided they needed to HTFU and I hobbled on my way. Around 6 miles they got with the program and the run was went great, easy even.

But when it was going poorly at the start I decided that I would just treat it as a run around Roswell and take pictures with my camera phone. So here is my photo journey. Sorry the photos are kinda crappy. It was cloudy, misty even for the first 2 hours, so the light was really bad. Plus, my phone sucks. Not to mention, I was running.

The road ahead. This was the start of my run when I knew it was going to hurt a little and I was trying not to be mad about it.
Goats at the end of the first mile. They are cute but boy do they stink! I took this picture for my friend Anne and my friend Neal. Anne because I know she likes the goats and Neal because he says stuff like; "I don't think I can come to yoga on Saturday. I need to take my dad to the goat sale."

Mile 2. Starting to feel better for the moment because I get to run down a long hill. Yippy for downhills.

Stopping to cross. See the cyclists (probably Roswell Bikes group) heading out to do the North of 92 loop of the Roswell 40 (or mile high ride).
Then I didn't take pictures for a few miles because I was having the I think I am going to bail argument with myself.

But then I got to run down a big hill and then up an even longer hill and my calves gave up the ghost and got with the program. I rewarded myself with a Gu and some water at Texaco. I didn't take any pictures there either because there were lots of day laborers hanging around and they were already looking at me like I was crazy.

Canton St. Mile 6ish. Feeling great now! Bad hills are done! Finally decided that I will see this run through.

Naylor Hall on Canton Street. My friend Elizabeth grew up in this house so I always think about her and playing there whenever I run past it. Now it is a place people rent to have their weddings at.

Trail at Roswell Area Park. Trail one of two on my route.
I run here a lot when my kids have gymnastics.

Church that I like. Mile 9 or so. Blurry because I was running. I wanted a picture but I had just passed a couple with a jogging stroller and didn't want to have pass them again so I snapped it as I went by.
I hate this part of the run. I try to cut as much off as I can by running through Blessed Trinity's campus but still gotta do my time on 92. I also call it the foresake it or bake on it road or-- depending on the time of year-- the wind tunnel. It was both on Saturday.
Isn't it ugly?

This is back in the neighborhoods I run through. Miles 12, 13 and part of 14--or something like that.
Right behind me is a friend of mine from high school's old house but if I were to go down this driveway I would be standing at the end of the lake that my parent's house is on. In the summer, when I do this run and it is 90 degrees, I often think that I could just swim the 1/4 mile down lake and be done. It takes me less than 6 minutes to swim a 1/4 mile and at this point I have an hour left of my run. Even if I cut it short I still have to run almost 3 miles to get back to my parent's house where my car is parked. So sometimes I am tempted but haven't done it yet. The lake creeps me out. And besides, what would I do with my shoes?


Back out on 92 waiting on the light to change. I need to run down to the Leita Thompson park to add on some miles.
The Leita Thompson Trail. This is picture isn't from Saturday but one of the trail from last year. The pictures I took of the trail Saturday were all too dark.

And this is--usually-- the best part of the run. I save it for last even though technically the uneven terrain and hills and turns make it the hardest part of the run. But it is the most fun part.

After I run on the trail I head back on 92 and then back towards my parent's house where they have either bought my kids McDonald's or given them too many cookies and as much Coke as they want. It will be hard to keep up with them for the rest of the day.

Just a few more miles to go. . .

I have to run down this hill and then back up to add on a few more miles so I get to 20 today.

As I start down the hill I pass my friend Shannon. I see her too late to get a picture. She is training for the ING half and the Country Music marathon. I think that she looks good.

Instantly I regret that I didn't look happier when we passed. I am in a sour mood about the hill because I should have, and usually do, run the extra miles at the Leita but the fountains were not turned on and it was getting hot so I had detour and make an extra and unplanned stop at CVS to use their fountain. Buggers! Blasted thirst.

Finally, the last mile.

This is not T-Pain's house.

Neither is this one. But he does have a house that is off this street. I am just not sure which one it is.

Yeah! Almost done. Starting to sprint now!

Now it is taper time. Again! I can't believe it. 3 weeks until I get to do the Tour de Atlanta.

P.S. I am going to see The Pogues live tonight! Been almost 20 years since I have seen them live. So excited! They are my favorite band.

Dinner a la Taper

Sure sign that I am in the throes of the ugliness that is a taper is a dinner menu such as this:

Pulled BBQ Pork Tenderloin Sandwiches (slow simmered all day long, so, so good)

Roasted Sweet Potatoes (with butter, cinnamon and maple syrup)

Homemade Mac n Cheese Florentine (read lots of butter and cheese and oh, yeah, a little spinach)

Magic Hat number 9

I think I gained weight just preparing this meal. And I don't think the calories I burned from my 6 mile run and 2200 yd swim can even touch it. Things are not going to be looking pretty at the start line of the S.C half iron man. And by things I mean my bulging gut and big fat ass.

Reassuring Pats

Disclaimer: this is the pre marathon post of self doubt.
This weekend was a tremendous and inspiring racing weekend. Charlie, who will also be running the Country Music Marathon this Saturday ran a new half marathon PR. Sprinting in at 1:27! Then Sunday I was glued to my laptop watching the woman's Olympic Trials. Magdalena ran such an incredible race I hated to not see her just run away with it but to watch Deena masterfully, and effortlessly-- I should add-- show us how a marathon is done was equally awesome. But I have to say when I saw Blake Russell coming down that final stretch and could clearly see the moment on her face when she realized that she had made the team. Well, that made me cry I was so happy for her. I have no doubts that both Deena and Magdalena were equally proud and happy for their Olympic teams spots but I saw and felt Blake's pride and overwhelming joy as she crossed the finish line. Congrats to all the women. I think they all ran an amazing race and are going to, like the men, represent the USA well in Beijing.

And today as I watched the elites finish Boston I was further captured by the spirit of the marathon. I want to race tomorrow! No. Not really because I am grateful for the rest and a few more days of prep.


The bubble of inspiration seems to be diminishing though and doubt is creeping in. I am worried that it has been too long since I ran a run over 20 miles. Yes. Right. I know. It has been 22 days. And right. I know. I ran an awesome 18 miler 10 days ago. 15 miler 5 days ago and then there was that fabulous run I did Saturday that I pushed to that "comfortably hard" pace for the entire 10 miles. I have Yoga'd myself silly. Been ridiculous in the pool and I have lifted weights and have been amazed by my strength gains. I feel stronger than I did the week going into ING and sense, I might have the energy to be really powerful on Saturday. But then again, I don't know. . .

I feel like I have not been training. I don't feel worn out, tired, or beaten down. Clearly, something is missing.

I am beginning to imagine injury. There is none but nevertheless as I sit here typing I am icing various points on my leg--calf, Achilles, hamstring, foot. I worry about sickness too. I swallow. Sore throat? No. I sniff hard. Sinuses clogged? Nope. Very suspicious. Once, when I was 22, I went to the doctor--an internist who specialized in infectious diseases-- because I hadn't been sick--at all, not even a cold--in 2 years. I told him I thought I might have a disease that was killing all the other diseases. I could see he was trying hard not laugh since I was dead serious. He ran a bunch of tests and was equally serious when he gave me the results and then patted me on the back and assured me that I was the healthiest person he had ever seen. Sigh, I think I might need to see him again. I sure could use a reassuring pat on the back now.

See? Taper madness has really set in. The dreams have even started. Last night I dreamed the ridiculous shoe dream. The one where I run a race in totally inappropriate shoes. Last night it was my high heel stiletto Cheetah clogs. I am sure tonight I dream I end up missing the start or run the wrong course or run all the way to the Mississippi even.

We won't even discuss the food. Okay, maybe we will. Butter. Why oh why do I love the bread and butter in the taper? Crusty french bread and salted butter. Oh. My. God. I am fat. I am not even going to bother wearing jeans this week. Skirts and dresses only.

And seriously, we will not discuss the amount of 420 I consumed at the Sweetwater Earth Day fest yesterday. But I will show you Carmella's Christo like installation that she did for Earth Day fest, which let's face it, is really just an excuse to get drunk in a park (and for some, I guess get high). Please note the boys in the hammock in the tree.
Wait. Need a better picture?

Walking the Line

When I was in 4th grade my best friend Catherine and I use to roam the woods that backed up to our neighborhood. Those woods also backed up to Dodgen Middle School. And in those woods, off the school's back parking lot, were cables strung between some pine trees. There were three, about 3-4 feet off the ground and about 10 feet long.

Catherine and I assumed they were for practicing walking on a tight wire. We imagined that once you got to middle school instead of having to do square dancing you got to learn circus tricks. Obviously this did not prove the case as I went to Dodgen for 6th and 7th grade and we never once used them for anything. We were still doing the same old square dancing and four square crap that we had done in elementary school. I can only assume--since I moved before 8th grade- that maybe it was in 8th grade then that you got learn circus tricks.

At any rate, Catherine and I used the cables to play on and we would pretend--what else? That we were tightrope walkers. I have to admit, we were pretty good. Though sometimes we did use the sticks we balanced with to keep us from falling over.

I think it is unfortunate that we never got to put our tight rope walking skills to use. Not that I am planning on joining the circus--especially after the spectacle I made of myself last Sunday in Yoga. Let's just leave it that I will definitely not be sending my resume to Cirque du Soleil.

Nevertheless, I do find myself walking a thin line-- spanning the tightrope, if you will, between the Georgia ING marathon and the Country Music Marathon while I try to juggle recovery, training and a taper. And yes, absolutely that is a nod Johnny Cash. Now I am not a fan of county music but I do love me some Johnny Cash. Wait I think we need a song break. (I love to run to this song, BTW. The freight train rhythm helps me keep an even pace.)

Alrighty then! I am officially signed up. And I am so excited. Fishstick signed up for the half and my old friend Chris has graciously offered us up his guest room. Not to mention I found a $15 off coupon for the marathon--so how could I not do it? Besides, the one and only time I've been to Nashville I had a blast. It was all just too tempting for me to turn the opportunity down. Also, it should be said that since I am looking for a job my commitment to marathoning in the future is tenuous and is probably going to take some hit once I find said job. So, who knows this could be my last hurrah--I hope not, but you never know. . .

So the Stick and I will be rolling into Nashville on Friday the 25th. We will be eating at Chris's restaurant Germantown Cafe. He has promised me a tasty pre race meal and I encourage everyone who doing the marathon to have your pre race meal here too. Or if you can't make it for dinner Friday go enjoy dinner there Saturday night before the concert. And if you live in Nashville already you better go eat there sometime because the menu looks freaking delicious and I know Chris will take good care of you.

Currently I have no goal for this race. Well, okay that isn't true. I should say my only expectation is to finish but of course my goal is to Pr. I don't expect to but I will definitely aim to.

Last week was a great week. This week? Not so much. I knew I would be tired but I completely underestimated how tired. The fatigue could be due to the ridiculously high record pollen counts we've had this week but certainly that is only partially to blame. I'll admit, maybe I did too much last week. But honestly I am happy with how it went. The way I see it, fatigue is an aspect of hard training. Injury though is another thing. And when you push your body when it should be recovering injury is a very real risk. Luckily, all my week did was make me tired. So this week I recovered ( or am recovering). Considering that this week was the kid's spring break it is better that I pushed the envelop with my body last week since I knew I would not have the time for such training this week. So it is working out. Again, see, with the optimism. Such a bright and shiny spot in the universe am I.

And at CMM in two weeks I will get to found out how well I walked the line. Bring it on!

Visited Expo

Went to Expo today with my brother-in-law Wes. He was picking up Pookie's number. We had lots of fun.

Expo is great this year!

If you have kids you should bring them because they have bounce houses and other fun stuff. Wes and I even saw a bar (probably not for kids) but sadly did not partake. We also got lots of great swag. I even bought a new skirt because it had strategically placed pockets and one with, get this, a zipper! I know. It doesn't take much to get me all hot-- just some pockets for GU, dry wick material and a zipper. I made Wes buy Pookie one too. Wes, for a guy-- wait, I'm sorry-- for a straight guy, is really fun to shop with. Thanks for being my escort.

I saw tons of people: Big Peachites who I totally harassed. My friend Dee Dee and all her girlfriends (they are doing the half) and told me about a new restaurant on Holcomb Bridge that not only has tacos (mmm, tacos. . .) but also a mechanical bull on the last Thursday of every month. I am so there! I even met a reader of my blog. I am so sorry I totally spaced on what you said your name was because I was so shocked that people not only read my blog but recognize me from it. Very cool and it definitely made my day and it was super to meet you. Good luck! Heck, good luck to everyone!

And a special thanks to all the people at Big Peach. I know you guys are all working so hard at this Expo and helping make this race come together and most of you are planning on running the half. Well, except for super Kate. She's doing the full. She said she would probably "take it easy and cruise in around 3 hours." Go super Kate!!!! You are awesome. I hope you nab first GA woman and get a cool prize.

And after being downtown and trying to navigate away from the dome and seeing all the damage the tornado did to Atlanta I have made a minor adjustment to my race day outfit:
Good luck, rest up and enjoy the race!

Still Life with Burnt Toast and Side of Butter

It is an intriguing and brilliant piece that serves as a visual conceit on the marathon taper. Clearly what we are seeing here is the work of a master. It is apparent that the artist is paying homage to the classic Flemish still life tradition however the sober imagery of severely burnt toast suggests the gloom that permeates postmodern still lifes.

The image of burnt toast never fails to rattle the soul. It is a meal wasted; carbs rendered inedible. To a marathoner in the taper for who "carbo loading" is the very essence of being there is nothing more macabre than a wasted carb loaded meal: Even one as simple as buttered toast.

Admittedly burnt toast is a very tired symbol. So over used in both painting and literature that it has evolved as a modern cliche for "burn out". However in this particular taper piece the artist has in some sense "reinvented the wheel" by using the burnt toast to be representative of the leg muscles rather than the runner as a whole.

More specifically, the burnt toast is referring to the lower calf muscles. You can tell this is the intention because the toast is cut on the diagonal rather than left whole or simply halved. Clearly this diagonal cut is symbolizing the angles of a well developed calf. And the fact that there are two pieces of toast, both equally burnt, suggests the "burn out" is severe. This is supported by the darkness of the toast. Aside from the black and deep sepia color, the exaggeration of the toastedness is additionally depicted with visible brush strokes and heavy handed paint on the toast whereas in other areas of the painting there is a lighter touch. The effect is genius as the viewer can see, almost taste, how unpalatable the toast is. It is that burnt.

The image of the butter certainly holds a special place in the postmodern still life pantheon. The artist's choice of butter as a spread is referring to the appetite that rages in the marathon taper.

Butter, long revered as a symbol of fat, is communicating the potential weight gain that is a direct result of marathon tapering. It is also telling of how the body is so "freaked out" that there just might be another 4 hour run looming in the near future that the body is desperate for nutrients, calories, fat. Certainly, the butter depicted here is a nod to survival instinct and to the human body's anthropological need to hoard fat. Not to mention the tapering marathoner's appetite-- for who this meal was prepared-- is probably completely out of control. At first glance it does appear that the butter speaks nothing of the water retention that is wrecking havoc on the marathoner's usually chiseled physique; but upon closer examination we can only assume that the butter used here is of the salted variety.


Finally we would be remiss if we did not touch briefly on the artist's choice of a still life to depict the madness and despair that so often punctuates the marathon taper. Without a doubt this is very telling of the workouts embodied in the marathon taper: Like a still life they are inanimate, artificial and mundane. . .

Blah, blah blah. . .
Uhm, soooooo . . . .this week has sucked.

I am as burnt and stale as a piece of toast.

Oh yeah, and I am getting fat. . . mmm, butter.

I won't bother with the specifics of the breakdown cause it ain't pretty but here are the totals:
Running: (hangs head in mortal shame) 30 miles O.M.G.
Cycling: 42 miles
Swimming: 3 miles
Walking/hiking: 2.5 miles
Moving on. With the emphasis on the "moving" and the(being)"on" parts.

Still managed to be streaking.

Carmella has strep throat.

I need a job.

Mystery Reader

Just like there is a peak in training there is a peak in the taper and I think I have hit the the height of it for sure. Just riding the crest of taper madness for one more day.

Yesterday I rushed around getting stuff together as we leave later today for our weekend in the mountains: tons of laundry--though still not packed--almost, payroll, shopping, and made lasagna (yes from "scratch")for tonight's dinner. Not entirely certain this will prove the best pre race dinner ever but I generally have a pretty tough tummy so hopefully I won't suffer GI issues tomorrow.

Later this morning I am the Mystery Reader for Carmella's class. I anguished at the library yesterday trying to decide what book to read. I ended up picking this book. I worried it might be too scary for first graders but I ran it by Carmella's teacher and she thought it was wonderful and said she also had the Old Lady who Swallowed the Fly that I could read too--instead of Earl the Squirrel.

So in my madness I decided that I would go one step further and make cupcakes as a surprise treat. I have never made cupcakes before so I was little worried but I they turned out alright. For this I did use a mix. I can definitely cook just not the best baker. You have to be more exact with measurements when baking and exactness is not my strong point--nor is following directions.

Okay, Martha Stewart I am not and if you can't tell I decorated the cupcakes with spiderwebs and made little flies out of craisons and green icing. Ryan was making fun of me and said the kids wouldn't be able to tell what they were--much less care. But I told him that my artistic ability was about that of a first grader so I happen to think they will be able to tell.

Okay, going to pack and then off to the race!

Bored

Sigh, boring taper workouts. Time to fold laundry, time to make fancy yummy dinners, time to wipe counters and scrub bathrooms; time to do all the housewifely things that I really do not love--time I would rather be spending doing hardcore workouts.

Yesterday, though not ass kicking, was nice on the bike. Easy. Little annoying because Greenway was packed. Apparently other parents do not find it necessary to scream at their kids to "Get to right! Get over! Biker coming through!" And said kids that do not scoot look petrified when you yell "Hey! Pay attention! Don't hit me!" Cause, like I don't know if they know left from right. So calling out "On your left!" is just confusing to them. Then their parents make eye contact and offer a sheepish grin as apology. Whatever, fine with me. So be it if it has to be me who teaches your kids trail etiquette. My goal is not to wreck. So be it if I gotta be the bitch on the bike who is the trail compliance officer. There are clearly posted rules and I am obeying and so can you. And yes, I do have some anger issues. But see, I look so non-threatening. And I think that is what is so confusing. Grrr.
But yeah, it was a nice bike. Almost 25 miles in an hour 24. Easy peasy.

Today the kids had no school. Teacher workday or something. Steph had work meeting. No bikie with my girlie. So I gymed it. Again, easy peasy. Treadmill run. Purposely reigned myself in so as to not screw myself for the Chickamauga marathon that will be taking names and kicking my ass on Saturday. I had intentions to practice marathon pace--8 minute miles-- but it that feels too slow on the treadmill. So it was 7:50 pace for first mile. Hit 2 miles in 14:50. 5k in 22:20 and 4 miles in 29:20. Finished the whole 5.25 miles in 38 minutes. Even still, I think 8 minute miles for 26.2 miles is going to be very hard for me. I know how it will go down: first half split: 1:40. Second half split: 2 hours. Joe? I will be channeling you. Mr. Thank you very much I ran a negative split 3:30 marathon in an Iron man. Hello hero. Promise me it wasn't as easy as you made it look.

Yeah, okay. I am a teensy bit jealous.

So what.

Anyway, I spent sometime on the mat stretching. Man. I am tight. Ridiculous. I am thinking I should devote a little time each day to some stretching. Thought about lifting some weights but figured nothing but hunger would come out of it so I decided to swim.

Changed for the pool. Thought about the 10 x100's in 2 minutes but since I had no Steph to motivate me I just swam solid for 30 minutes. I lost count around 600 meters. We'll call it a mile but I am sure it was a little over. Changed and collected kids.

We did our errands. The kids were soooooooooooo good at the grocery store. I actually got compliments on how cute and well behaved my kids were--moi--my kids--Carmella--and--Beau--from several people. I kept looking around thinking surely they are not talking to moi. Totally weird. Hey, maybe we've finally turned "that corner." You know, the corner that people keep assuring me that Beau will turn. Seriously, I am sure it was just a fluke. Wait, is there a full moon tonight? Are there cameras on me or something? I'm suspicious now.

Then more cleaning, boring house-wifely stuff, more laundry folding (just so you know I could fold for everyday for 2 hours and there would still be more to fold, put away. Gag. Who are these people and where do they find the time to dirty so many clothes?). Then a long walk with dog and kids on bike. Then playing with kids and all the neighborhood kids (we apparently are that house, you know the one where kids migrate, multiply) in the yard.

So this is what people do when they don't run/bike/swim for 2+ hours a day. Huh. You know. This isn't so bad. . .

P.S. I heart italics

Yasso's got nothing on Carmella

So here I find myself yet again in the taper madness. I know I say it every time but man, I hate the taper. I feel fat and out of sorts. You know, I happen to like my training regime-- okay, no, maybe not the peak training regime. Wait, you know what? Yeah, I do like that. I just don't feel like I've accomplished anything if I don't feel completely dead on my feet. I suppose that might be a tad masochist but I really do like that heavy leg-I-can't-make-quick-movements feeling I get after hardcore workouts. I also like the short but hard workouts that jazz you up. What I don't like is how I feel all sluggish and thick in the head during the taper.

So Chickamauga will be my 4th marathon and even though I've done a dozen half marathons and a triathlon I am still trying to figure out how to taper. I figure eventually I'll hit on the magic formula but until then I continue to struggle through this trial and error taper approach.

Regardless of all that I do know that during the taper-- wait, more specifically, a week out from your A race-- is not the time to try new workouts. But nonetheless I found one. Tried it, did it, whatever. I really can't take credit for it since it wasn't planned; it just sort of happened.

Yesterday I decided since I had 8 days until the marathon squeezing in one last 16 miler wouldn't hurt--might even help. I didn't run it hard, just took it easy and enjoyed myself with an 8:40ish pace.It was a nice run on a nice day.

The kids have been all about their bikes lately so I promised them I would take the to the Greenway trail for a ride after school. I debated riding or running along with them. I decided I should run since I just bought new shoes for the marathon and need to break them in a little. I coerced Lala to come with me despite her complaints of old lady back problems. We took puppy girl Lola too. I figured I could easy jog along with the kids. I was thinking it would be walking with a little running. Not even a workout.

Uhm,. Okay. How come no one told me that when you take the training wheels off your kids' bike they are really fast?

Holy Mother of God did Lala, Lola and I get a workout.

Carmella took off as soon as she hit the trail. I was like what! Wait! I was flat out sprinting to keep up with her. No kidding. Lucky for me Carmella stopped right around the half mile mark. I caught my breath while she graciously waited on Lala and Beau. When they caught up I told Lala that she was on Beau duty. Lala was breathing hard but nodded that she understood.

Then Carmella was off again. I sprinted after her, dragging puppy girl with me. Again Carmella stopped at the half mile mark and waited on me. Once she had Beau and Lala in her sight she was off again. By a mile and half I was dripping in sweat. Carmella in contrast wasn't even breathing heavy. Whose idea was it again to take her training wheels away? Oh right, mine. What the hell was I thinking?

By the time we reached the 2 mile mark Lola was about dead. Carmella waited until Lala and Beau caught up and I handed Lola off to Lala. Puppy girl was dead weight. I've got to get that Husky in shape. She is good for the long but she has no endurance speed.

At the 2 mile we turned back and Carmella continued on with her version of Yasso 800s and I just tried my best to keep up. I was not really planning another speed workout before the race--you know thinking I was good having raced a half marathon 14 days out-- but nevertheless I got one in. And maybe next time if I don't run 16 miles in the morning before Carmella 800's they won't seem so difficult.

So here is how last week worked out:
Sunday: No workout. I had planned a recovery run but decided I needed a full day rest.

Monday: I was really surprised to find myself sore and still tired from (I guess) the half on Saturday. My workout felt really hard. I did my usual 5 mile recovery. Maybe I ran it faster since I brought Lola for all 5 miles. Around the midpoint of the run I tripped and since I have Lola tethered to my waist I went superman like flying and then she drug me through the dirt for a few feet. I was surprised to find that only my pride was hurt. I was dirty and totally embarrassed. Thankfully I was only a spectacle to the cars driving by.
After my run Steph invited me to a swim. Her knee was bothering her so no bitches bike ride. Dissappointing but probably just as well. I did ride my bike to the Aquatic center--not quite 5 miles--to meet her. I am so stupid but I am still trying to figure out how to dress myself for the bike. It was pretty windy and I was hot, then cold, then hot, so I was glad that it was a short, albeit uphill ride. At least, I figured home would be downhill.

We hit the pool and did a 400m warm up and then we did my 10x100's in 2 minutes workout. On paper this workout doesn't seem so hard but it really kicks my ass. The goal is to do a 100 in a minute 30, rest 30 and repeat. Inevitably I blow my wad by doing the first 3-4 100's in a minute 20 and then drag through the next few. By the 6th or 7th 100 I am ready to quit but Steph is totally not a quitter so we got it done. I think all my 100's came in under a minute 30 but they were hard fought. We did a 500 cool down and then got cold and called it a day. Then I rode back home and was very cold. I swear I spent the rest of the day trying to get warm. Yes, I know it was in the 60's.

Tuesday: So sore in the arms and very tired. No workout. At least I don't remember one.

Wednesday: Only had time for a quick 6 miles.

Thursday: Another easy 6 miles after I dropped kids at school. Then Ryan made me go to work with him. I hacked away at shrubbery for a few hours with a machete. Not fun.

Friday: Arms totally sore from machete workout. 16 miles at an 8:40ish pace. 8 Carmella 800's at what felt like faster than 5k pace but admittedly may not have been since I am sure I was tired from the 16 I ran in the morning.

Saturday: Took the kids to ride their bikes again at the Greenway. Carmella and I had a conversation how she was to take it slow. I ran behind her and in front of Beau. We got in just over 4 miles in around 34 minutes. It was nice and easy and I only had to sprint a few times. This jogging along while they ride might be just the ticket. However I feel like crazy mom yelling for my 4 year old to "Pedal Hard! Keep up!" Some people walking on the trail were giving me dirty looks. Whatever. They have no idea that I have spent the last 4 years chasing Beau around.

The Totals:
Run: 41 miles
Bike: 10 miles
Swim: 1900 meters.

The ways in which I screw myself

Okay, here's the real deal: I am trying daily--pretty much every second of the day-- to distract myself from the devastation of the drought.

Okay, I know that sounds sarcastic but I am not joking.

Really, I cry a little everyday.

Seriously.

You'd cry too if your bills were piling up and you weren't sure you could pay them-- or the 8 employees you had-- because your business, your livelihood was going to pot because of a lack of rain; because of a water ban.

A level 4 drought.

And yeah, you would be pretty annoyed about all those people in Alabama who are sucking our water out but don't have a water ban like we do. There is no outdoor watering here, ever. And you see, that is a pretty big problem for those of us in the "green industry". It's a big problem because we don't really make any money if stuff doesn't grow and people don't want us to plant flowers or mow their lawn. And who can blame them because really? Who wants to pay someone to cut a dead lawn or pay for flowers and landscaping that is just going to die? So, go ahead, call me petty but if us landscapers in GA have to go broke because of our diminishing water supply then so do those in Alabama if it is our water that they are using to water their lawns.

And don't even get me started on the Floridians and theirs mussels. Because, really? You know what? The ecosystem I'm most immediately concerned about are named Carmella and Beau I am little more worried about keeping the shell over their heads than what the hell happens to a bunch of way too fragile mussels in some drying up river. My kids? Way cuter and worth more to this world than a bunch of mussels. So call me selfish (not shellfish, mind you), I totally don't care that I am not seeing the "bigger picture."

Selfish and petty is what happens when climate change fucks with you so personally. You start thinking really small, not globally. At all.

Honestly, this pain and suffering from the drought isn't new for us-- like it is for most Georgians. Ryan and I have been keenly aware of how much it sucks when you can't water your lawn--never mind that our drinking water may soon dry up. It was bad in the spring and we weathered it but we thought surely hurricane season would drop a ton a rain and fall planting season would be good--as it always has been--for us. But fall is worse than spring. So, yeah, like I have been saying for the past 6 months; the landscaping business is the wrong one to be in. Insurance? Now there is the one to be in. Or so it seems, since a good chunk of our change goes there.

Truthfully. I am devastated daily.

And being in the taper and not getting my recommended daily dose of endorphins is making me feel totally crazy.

I have been way down this week. Way down. Like, I've been thinking I should download some Bob Mould on to my ipod so far down. These little 4 and 6 miles runs aren't cutting it. Today I promised Steph I would ride with her but then I bailed because I felt I could squeeze a 16 miler in today before my half marathon on Saturday.

I need to give HUGE props to Steph. I think everyone deserves to have a friend like Steph. This morning when I set out on my run it was in the high 50s--prefect running weather. That is until it started raining before I even hit the half mile mark. By the 5th mile of steady rain I was ready to quit. I pulled out my phone to call Ryan to see if he was home and would come get me since I've already had my long run in the rain. I felt I had nothing to gain but misery by plodding ahead. But before I could call I saw I had a text from Steph.

She said the icky weather was trying to foil her bike and she wished I was there. Sheesh! How could I quit my run after I bailed on her and she was still riding in the cold and icky weather? I tried my best to hang but after another few miles I was too cold and my shoes were too wet. I called Ryan and he picked me up right as I hit 10 miles.

Guilt. Sadness. Anxiety-- plagued me all day. I really needed to feel good--even if it was just for a second and was about nothing-- so I went to the gym. The air conditioning hasn't been working too well there lately so it has been way hot but tonight they had a giant fan out pointing right on the treadmills.

It was so nice. The wind on my back. The whole time.

I surprised myself with a great treadmill run. I wasn't expecting much since I had already run 10 and they weren't an easy 10 since I had gone out with the plan of 16 miles at marathon pace. Despite the rain and misery I still finished the 10 in just under an hour 24.

My 5k on the mill came in at 21:38. I slowed it down thinking that would be it but then I rallied and ran it out to the 10K. I finished in 44:07. Now, I feel all giddy from the endorphin flood.

Not to worry though, I am sure at 4 am I will wake up--like I have every single day this past week--stricken with anxiety about our business situation; that really I can't do anything about but nonetheless pray and hope and wish and dream that everything will be okay. And tonight when I wake up inexplicably in the middle night I can add to my worry list the wonder of if maybe I screwed myself out of a PR this weekend because of my treadmill fun tonight.

Yeah, I know, who cares.

The weight of the world on your shoulders? Come on. Who doesn't have that?

And yes, no need to point out the obvious: I know how damn frivolous my running seems in light of our current situation but running right now is the only thing that is keeping me sane. Yes, I love my kids--little spots of happiness-- but everyone knows small children are not exactly what keeps one sane. God love them but more often than not they are known to do the opposite. So yeah, the running, it helps me be all chipper and prevents me from transferring my stress onto them. Everyone else though? Watch out.

You know, if I could just figure out how to make all this running and fitness crap pay the bills then we'd be golden. And then it would actually be a real bonafide--something to worry about, whine about, bitch about and lose sleep over--problem when I screw myself by running too hard before a race. Right?

Tao of Pooh. Oh Bother.

For those that don't know my familial nickname as a child was "Pooh"--as in Winnie the Pooh. But only Aunt Boo stills calls me "Pooh."

I have 21 days until the Chickamauga Marathon.
I have the Silver Comet half marathon next Saturday.
Uhm, so yeah, I guess I am in the taper.

Ready or not I better be trained.

I am a little disappointed in my running mpw totals this training go around. For the most part they were in the mid 50 range but I was hoping/planning for them to be in the 60 mpw range.

Didn't work out that way.

And so, I worry that I am a little under trained.

But maybe not.

For my first marathon I think I only peaked at 40 mpw. For OBX and ING I did hit the 70 mpw range a few times but I also struggled (read hobble) a lot with over training injuries. Right now I feel pretty good but I also feel like maybe it has been too easy, like I didn't work hard enough. Like yeah, I know I can do 26.2 miles but I don't know if I can do 26.2 miles faster or even as fast as I have done.

So I worry.
I fret. That what if I have already peaked and now I am on the downhill spiral into slow, and next thing you know I'll be doing a half marathon with a walking stick?

So yeah, I am not too optimistic about a PR at Chickamauga or at Silver Comet. But ever the optimistic pessimist I am still hoping and aiming for a sub 3:40 nonetheless. And aiming for sub 1:40 at Silver Comet.

Okay. For shits, giggles and reassuring pats I need to do a check list real quick, bear with me:

So we have speed work, right?
Almost every week at least one run on the treadmill in the 5K-8 mile range @7-7:30 pace.
About 8 or so 12-16 milers.
And then there are the 5 long runs: The 21 miler, the 20 miler, the 23 miler, the 24 miler and the 21 miler (in the rain, ugh!)

I'm good, right? No? Yes?

What I am worried about: I have no runs at projected marathon pace. All my mid length and long runs are all about 45 seconds to a minute 15 slower than marathon goal pace (8 minute miles). Maybe recovery runs were at marathon pace. I don't know since I run those however I feel like.

SEE! I've been too lackadaisical about all this.

Oh, and then there has been my cheating heart doing all that biking and swimming.

Self sabotage?

I don't know. I don't know.

Okay, shaking it off;

Whatever.
Doesn't matter.
What will be will be come race day.
I will run.
And there might be terrible hills.
There might be horrible heat
Or humidity,
Or cold,
Or rain.
And, I've tried my best to prepare for all these possibilities.
But race day has always proven three things to me:
That there is magic.
That there is unexpected obstacles.
That no matter--however, whatever--I get through it. I get it done.

"Oh, bother," says Pooh.

I'll get it done this time too.

But really? I still hope that the planets will align and it will be that perfect race.
But no matter.
When I am done with it? I will still be happy however it all goes down just because I am done.
That's the beauty of 26.2.
Just finishing it makes you proud; even if it sucked ass the whole time.

So my last week of training finished up like this--no not ideal but it is what it is and I did my best:

Sunday: 6 miles general aerobic run. Then 2 cool down with dog. Puppy girl is lazy except when she sees another person or dog. Otherwise I pretty much have to drag her.

Monday: So fun. 5 or so miles easy. 36 rocking bike miles on the greenway. 20 minutes weights and then 1 mile swim.

Tuesday: Work day. No fitness.

Wednesday: Sad day where I bailed on my mid length run. Bad. Bad. Bad. 3 miles run of shame. Blech.

Thursday: 8 miles: 6 rolling and then 2 easy with slow puppy girl. And then 7 hours of hard landscaping labor hell. Dirt. Yuck. I'm a princess and I do not like yard work or dirt.

Friday: 21 unspectacular disappointing miles. First 8 or so miles was in the pouring rain. Then the next 6 or so I was getting splashed by the water on the roads and the humidity was just yucky and then the last bit was just bleck. Finished in 3 hours and eight minutes. I wanted to quit every single second of it. Then I had to go help set up for the garage sale.

Saturday: Did a garage sale. Mentally and physically draining. Had optimistically thought I could rally afterwards for a run but after all day on my feet and haggling I just wanted to crawl into bed. Which is pretty much what I did. But fabulously enough I got rid of stuff and made dollars--so, absolutely worth it.

Le totales:
Sie Run: 45 miles
Sie Bicyclie: 36
Sie Swim: 1 mile
mwah.
Now? Le taper.

On having no Gojo and being all squirelly . . .

Shrug.

Like shit. It happens.

And, I guess this is how it happens:

I had an awesome workout on Monday.

So fabulous and fun I would call it a playout, not a workout at all: 5 mile run, 36 mile bike (at the Greenway, with my ipod-- 126 minutes of music joy. I am totally living in the past of it--it was that delicious), and then 20 minutes upper body weights, and a 1 mile swim. So yeah, about as much time as my 24 miler took me last Thursday.

I think maybe I kicked it a little too hard.

But hey, I was having fun.

And really, if I think about it, I've had some spectacular workouts lately: 24 mile run 6 days ago, double 5k's (and weights) 5 days ago, a bike/run brick 4 days ago, 8 miles 3 days ago. . .

And so, I suppose, I really shouldn't be surprised that when I went out for my planned 16 miler today I had no mojo to get my gojo go go a going. I ran a total of 3 miles and said; screw it. Okay, really, to quote my buddy Stephan,I said "Fuck this." (You need to know my nose was all crinkled up when I said it because that is how he does it.)

At the time I thought I might rally and make it to the gym for a speed workout and a swim but no, instead I am enjoying, very much, some Dogfish Head Indian Brown Ale and Harpoon Oktoberfest. I heart beer. No beer diet for this chica.

Shrug.

So what if the beer it isn't stoking my gojo but just maybe it is my mojo, er uhm , if you know what I am saying. Wink wink, nudge nudge.

I don't know what is up with me. There is no physical reason I couldn't/didn't suck it up and do my run. I have no sore muscles and I have run much further when I have been sadder/sorer/tireder/stressed etc. There is, of course, the fact that I had no Espresso Love Gu's to which absolutely I am addicted to. But that is silly. Right? I use to run 16 miles with just water so that's no excuse.

And, admittedly I am a bit bothered by the recent attacks on female joggers. Very close to home. But seriously, I run 20+ mile runs so I am bound to be close to some of these attacks even if they don't happen right next door. So not much of an excuse either.

So maybe my mojo is off because we are so poor and everyone but the IRS knows it. Please rain, please rain, please rain. And yes, it is more than the just the drought that is making it impossible to be in the landscaping business. But I am use to things sucking, so. . .

Really, there is no excuse.

I just bailed. Plain and simple. I am totally unapologetic about it.

Oh, and, by the way, tomorrow I am going to work with Ryan.

You read that right: Moi. Work. Ryan.

That's right. My princess ass will be out pulling the deadheads and planting the pansies and getting myself elbow deep and personal with roly-polys and worms.

But hopefully the beer and hard labor will get me outta my funk and on the straight for my last 20 miler (this Friday) before I embark on the dreaded taper.

Oh, and I am having a garage sale again this weekend too. So please, wish me unburdening of my junk and money in my pockets.

Hope everyone had a better run/bike/swim than I did today.

PS: Sorry Lala for all the unlady-like cussing.

On Getting Phat (or is it just fat?)

Sigh.

I so hate the taper.

I feel all squirrelly and out of sorts and I worry that this decrease in exercise is going to make me balloon to unseemly proportions.

Really I should be welcoming the opportunity to allow my body to recover a little and build itself up considering the continual abuse I put it through but I don't. At all. I hate it.

And instead I worry that I am getting fat; fatter by the second and it is all I can do to keep myself away from the gym, truncate my workouts, or at least lower the intensity.

And while I am sitting idly by, watching my waist get wider, my skin look thicker, I am also astounded that with this lack of exercise comes all this time. Really, I don't know why I am surprised about that because it seems obvious enough but I am honestly surprised by all the time I have when I am not working out.

Now, you'd think I would put all that time to good use--like catch up on laundry, organize my closet, or clean out the kitchen cabinets-- but I don't. Instead I sit around eating and fretting over getting fat and wishing my race was here so I can hurry up and start training for my next goal.

I am such an idiot.

So here is how my taper is going this week:
Sunday: I had planned to run at least 6 maybe 10 miles but I got outside for my 2 mile warm up jog with Lola and it was so muggy and already 88 degrees so my 2 mile warm up because my run. So 2 miles. Then I did my 10 minute open water swim in the creepy lake.

Monday: 25 miles on the bike at around a 17-18mph pace.

Tuesday: This kicked ass: 8.2 miles on the treadmill in an hour. But what I most proud of is the 7 miles that came in at 49 minutes and 48 seconds. You can see that it doesn't take much for me to impress myself. I'm easy like that--a slut for myself, a sure thing.

Wednesday: Again with the treadmill: a 5k in 21:51 and then jogged it out to the 5 mile in under 40 minutes. Walked another 5 minutes just to cool down. I was not impressed with myself but just happy that I got it done as it took a little convincing my legs that they could run. I guess I impressed myself too much the day before. I guess that is what you call . . . well, never mind. Not polite. Let's just say I was little worried that I had wasted myself with my little run on Tuesday.

So I have brick (bike/run) planned today, and I want to get in this week another 4-5 mile run (this time easy) and a mile swim. I plan to do nothing on Saturday.

So my totals for this week should be something like 20 miles for the run, 45 for the bike and a mile or so for the swim. That is okay for a taper I think.

What's next?
Cranking up the miles.
Yeah baby! Marathon training officially starts next week. . .

Peachtree Prep: Tapering, uh, sort of . . .

I was remiss about posting my totals last week. I've been in a pseudo taper. I think I have mentioned before that the taper is hard for me--it just feels wrong or like I'm not doing my homework. Dumb, I know. But that is how the taper makes me feel--less bright, dimmer. Like I am losing my edge and this is based on the ridiculous and laughable notion that I have edges.

Anyway, here is how last week shaped up:

Sunday: 25 mile bike ride. I rode down by the river (pancake flat) and up Eves Road (long, long big hill) and into Martin's landing (rolling hills). It was really hard and I can't remember what the avg mph was I am thinking it was either 15 or 17. Ugh, I am so slow. I want to be fast! Swam 800 meters.

Monday: 7 miles on the treadmill in 52 minutes and change. Ladder workout.

Tuesday: 22 miles in an hour on the gym bike. Hill workout on a level 10. I did some arm weights. It has been awhile since I've lifted a weight. So boring and it made me ridiculously hungry the rest of the day.

Wednesday: Gym Brick; 13 miles in 36 minutes on the bike (hill workout, level 8) and then a 5 mile run on the treadmill 36 minutes and 42 seconds. 800 meter swim in the afternoon.

Thursday: 13 mile run. I am so slow outside--mostly on purpose. I am trying to keep up the habit and the endurance but since often I can't run until 10 am it is hot and humid as hell. Not to mention there are lots of hills here--another reason I don't push the pace and just let it be what it is. Thursday was in the low 80's and the first part of my run was very shady so it wasn't too bad. I stopped around the 7 mile mark to get some Gatorade. Downed about half of it, tossed it and ran on. It was getting really steamy. I probably would have been wise to keep the leftover Gatorade but I hate carrying stuff in my hands while I run. I planned on stopping at Caribou around the 11 mile for some water. So I figured 4 miles was no biggie. By the time I reached Caribou I was hot and starting to feel thirsty.I was ready for my water break. Imagine my dismay to find that the Caribou had closed. Gone. Those last 2 miles home were rough. I was fine but not having that 2nd water stop really ruined my run.

Friday: 10k on the treadmill in 47 minutes. 12 easy miles on the bike in 35 minutes.

Saturday: My plan had been a short run and swim but Beau was sick so we stayed home. I really needed a day off. It had been over 2 weeks since I took a complete day off.

Week Totals:
Bike: 72 miles
Run: 31 miles (this is the taper part)
Swim: 1600 meters (this is just sad. I have been bad about getting in the pool)

And this week:
Sunday: 10 miles. I don't even bring a watch anymore because it upsets me to see how slow I am. Ignorance is bliss.

Monday: 4 miles out and back out side--uphill, downhill, uphill, downhill. Easy peasy. Then 13 miles on the bike through Steph's ridiculously hilly hood and connecting hoods. Running and riding through there give me a clue as to why her legs look as awesome as they do.

Today, Tuesday: Original plan was rest day but I don't think I can do it. So I thought I would just swim but I never just swim so now I am thinking maybe bike too at the gym. . . We'll see.

Tomorrow: Peachtree! Good luck all. Have a Happy, Safe, 4th!

Pretty Things on a Shelf

I.
A Faberge egg—
More than itself, an opalescent hidden life that never begs.
Then maybe a geode--split and revealing millions of dazzling crystals--
A hidden mystery of complex and beautiful design
Juxtaposed in a menagerie of frivolity.

Scattered in shapes and sizes
Photographs of smiling family, friends, and
Laughing children framed in glided wood and shining glass.
Happy waltzing families, as Tolstoy once told,
Really are not all happy in the same way.

Left off center a delicate flower
Cut down in full glory bloom.
Maybe a lily in an heirloom vase
Or perhaps an exotic orchid
Set upon the shelf, equally doomed.

Spined out flat
A tattered antique diary of Anais Nin.
Confessions fictionalized in a misbehaved, romantic and eroticised life.
Or maybe some darker tale of reveling sadness, lost dreams, wasted ambition--
The Bell Jar or The Sun Also Rises.
Whichever, whatever--confessions or roman a clef—
It is bound and forgotten in old leather
With water stains on the cover,
Flaking title on weathered spine.

II.
On a dark shelf in a secret corridor
With buried echoes of mourning,
The divided chambers of my heart implode.
Breathless now and out of miles and broken walks
Comes the sadness; splintering out of despair,
From the weight and this pain of loving you.

Like Isis in the underworld
Trying to find the pieces to make Osiris whole again,
Or as Artemis running over punishing hill chasing not deer or wild boar
But to save Horus and Iphigenia
From the fragments of tomorrow, yesterday and today--
I go on and on and on, running.

The cherry blossoms cut the brilliance of the morning that rushes past me.
I watch as a hawk swoops down to catch its prey--
An unaware mouse shuttled off to its doom.
On and on and on I run.
Pounding out the miles and broken walks until
the salt I taste is no longer sweat but tears.

On and on and on I run and the miles fall away.
I put my dark things back on the secret shelf and lock them
In the furthermost quarter of my heart.
I run until I come home happy,
Loving you all again, and place myself
Like pretty things on a shelf.


* The photograph is a self portrait and is old. It was my very freshman attempt in the darkroom trying to do an Ulesman. The poem is new, I wrote it this morning after my run. I am sure it could use a million edits and paring down but I doubt I'll ever get around to it.

Póg Mo Thóin

That is Gaelic for "kiss my ass" and it is directed at the wind.

It was bitterly windy on my run this morning. It didn't get me down though. I buoyed on my run with happy thoughts as I remembered that last night I dreamt of Behan and he told of his life's philosophies. I took them as my own and kept that light inside of me because I am going, no matter which way the wind is blowing . . .

Okay, maybe whiskey or 15 pints of beer is not entirely recommended during the taper but it is St. Patrick's Day and I am going to embrace my quarter Irishness (and my Irish man who will drink the whiskey) drink a few beers and thoroughly enjoy the day.

And not just because of the beer or my soon to be drunk Irish man but because I get to listen to Shane and Pogues all day long. I love the Pogues. So this is my Ode to the Pogues and all things Pogalicious on St Paddy's Day Post. So happy St. Patrick's Day and I hope you all are out celebrating the Irish and the punch drunkenness that goes with it.
Here is more to help you toss it back and dance a jig:


This is my kick it in song when I am running. Does that trick every time:

Taper Methodology by Nat: Cookies, Kids, Wagon and Dog workouts

Follow these tips and you too will find yourself stronger come race day!

Sorry about the lack of posts. I have been way too busy these past few days eating cookies to blog much. Plus I was thinking that maybe my consumption--aside from a little embarrassing-- might be a tad boring. But the good news is that we have broken into the last box of Samoas. Tagalongs and Thin mints still remain but those I have no problem resisting so the posts about the cookies should be waning soon enough.

I admit it. I am no good at the taper. I never know what to do and training pretty much falls apart. Basically I just cut out the long run the last 2 weeks before a marathon and just do the runs I like to do at a comfortable pace or whatever the hell I feel like doing. I did go look at my Advance Marathoning book for Petey's suggested taper and yeah, well, I'm not going to do that. So here is how I have tapered so far this week:

Sunday: 2 1/2 mile walk with the kids and Lola. I know that doesn't sound like much or worth mentioning as a workout but I count it because when I go for a walk with the kids I end up carrying Beau on my shoulders for part of it while Lola pulls me in every direction. I "wear" her via a leash wrapped around my waist so I am hands free for the kids but my whole body gets twisted and tossed around as a result. It really is quite a workout since I am always so exhausted after one of these outings, physically and mentally.

Monday: 6 miles in 48 minutes

Tuesday: 10 miles in 81 minutes. In the afternoon I pulled the kids in the wagon-- little over a mile but it was hard as shit. See how when you are mom your training is a little less traditional? I am thinking that in that last 5k of the marathon when I am running up some hill on Peachtree I will be reminded of trying to run up the hill in front of my house while Beau and Parker scream at me to go faster and I will remember how I survived, preserved and conquered that hill. Peachtree? Well, let's just say that I happen to think the marathon will prove easier. I'll let you know how this comparison plays out.

Wednesday: 10 miles in 88 minutes in the morning. Did the elliptical for 35 minutes at the gym in the afternoon. Thought about doing weights but didn't. And here is an example where the thought does not count.

Thursday: 6 miles in 52 minutes.

Friday: 5k in 21:09 on the treadmill. I think that is the fastest I have ever done a 5K. It felt great and probably should have been faster. I really think in a race I could get that under 21 minutes. I started running on the mill at 7:45 pace but it takes a while for it to get there so I lose time. Then I pushed the pace through the run and finished at 6:15 pace. So a negative split. Then I ran 2 more miles and finished the whole run in 38:22 so not a negative split there but that was just cool down. Did a few weights and found that I have grown weaker. The 15lb dumb bells felt heavy after just a few reps. Generally I can get through a couple of sets before they even remotely feel heavy. Sometimes this happens because I am just worn out but I think yesterday it was because have been bad about doing weights lately and really am weaker. Whatever the reason--tired or muscle loss-- I don't really care as I can get my upper body strength back after the marathon fast enough. However, I am looking leaner up top so maybe I don't want it back. I like looking like a weakling. Last summer my sister commented on my "guns" and asked if I was "tossing Ryan around." Who wants to look like they can toss their husband across the room?

Saturday: I don't know yet. I am going to finish my coffee and call Lala and Pop and see if they will watch the kids so I can go do a 7 or 10 mile run. If not I guess I will go torture myself on the treadmill for a shorter distance and maybe try the weights again. Or maybe I'll go real crazy and do a yoga class. What I do know is that I will be eating a Samoa or two before I do anything else. They seem to be helping.

PS. Good luck Charlie!

More on Nat getting Fat

Funny--not funny ha ha but funny peculiar-- how the only thing tapering is my running and caloric burn.

My waistline?

It is in a reverse taper.

So, yes, those damn Girl Scout cookies arrived. The neighbor girl had come by in January on a day I had done a long run. On a day that willpower and worries of getting fat were far from my mind.

I asked, maybe a little too eagerly, when they would arrive. March, she said. And I don't know why I was thinking they would get here before the taper. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Neighbor girl called last week asking when she could deliver them. I returned her call and left a vague message that I am home most days in the afternoon but sometimes I am not so she should call before she comes by. Then I made an effort to not be home and not answer the phone.

That bought me 6 days.

But yesterday was such a nice day so Beau and Parker (Parker's Mom and I carpool now--her morning, me afternoon-- and he is over here now twice a week for a play date) walked up to the school get Carmella and her friend Abby, who was also coming over for a play date.

And when I say we walked I should clarify and explain that I walked and pulled Beau and Parker the 1/2 mile, uphill, to the school in the wagon and then back home. All the while they yelled at me to go faster! I did the best I could but running up hill pulling a wagon with what, I don't know, 80lbs? Ain't all that easy.

On the way home we ran into neighbor girl who asked if we would be home today.

Yes.

Can she bring the cookies by?

Sigh, if you must. I mean, absolutely!

So she brought the cookies. And I, of course, immediately tore into one of the 3 boxes of Samoas. And after inhaling 3 cookies I remembered the children in my backyard.

I called them all in and thrust 3 cookies in each of their dirty little hands. They all looked at me baffled and disbelieving their good fortune. I could tell from their stunned silence and side ways glances that in each of their little minds they were wondering if this possibly could be the same woman who only 30 minutes before brought them a snack of apples, carrots, pretzels and peanut butter finger sandwiches. Testing if I really was still Miss Nat they all asked for another juice box. I told them that was too much sugar and gave them all water. Quickly, almost too quickly, they all readily accepted the water and scattered outside to inhale their cookies on the swing set before I could come to my senses and snatch them back. Watching them, I had another cookie.

One box of Samoas almost gone. Two to go.

The really sad thing about all this is that I am trying to control what I eat . . . and failing miserably. It seems like the more I think about not eating the more I end up eating. This is why I never diet because dieting means I gain weight.

So yesterday I was off to a good start:
Breakfast: Bowl of Uncle Sam's cereal with skim milk. Coffee. Couple glasses of water. Glass of OJ. Most days I have a cookie or 2 after breakfast but yesterday I was good and refrained.

Ran 10 miles.

Lunch: An orange, cottage cheese and lots of pretzels. Green tea. More water. (And yes, I do spend much of my day peeing.) Oh yeah, the chocolate chip cookie I skipped at breakfast I had now.

Generally for lunch I have something pretty substantial like a bowl of pasta with veggies and shrimp or a salad with grilled chicken or rice and beans with cheese and tomatoes but in the taper I trying to go lighter, trying to eat less. . .

After lunch I had to go get the boys. I got them ice cream on the way home. I had to. Why? Well, they screamed. And yes, I totally regret having just last week taught them the "I scream and you scream for ice cream" song. They took it much too literally. But they were good on our post office and bank errands. I was good too and had no ice cream.

See how I was strong and resisted temptation there?

See how I was doing okay until the cookies came? It is the cookies fault.

Dinner: Spaghetti with turkey sausage, bread and a salad. Not terrible but not great. Oh yeah, and red wine. I don't even try to cut out my wine.

And today, you ask?

Well, same as yesterday's breakfast but I did have a Samoa. Someone has to eat them you know.