Training for a half and summer goals

Summers are gorgeous in this area, and it seems like everyone has come out of hibernation and laced up their shoes.  Running culture is pretty prominent here, and I am constantly hearing my coworkers talk about their race schedules and how they are training for their next event.  They are using apps, books, online coaches, etc.  My company blog has even started a "Get Fit Series".

And everyone once in a while, someone will stop by my cubicle and say, "I heard you're running Wineglass!  How is training going?"

Cue the crickets.

The truth is that I'm not really training.  I'm not following any plan.  I just run when I can, and I trust that by the time Wineglass rolls around, I'll be fit enough to finish.

Body running amok

I've always prided myself on having a very strong immune system.  During college, I got sick once, maybe twice.  And if I did get sick, I just denied, denied, denied until it went away so I couldn't remember if I was ever sick in the first place.

This has not been the case this week.

One of my favorite sitcoms to air was Dharma and Greg and this episode describes my situation to a T.

Ok, so I don't have gout.  But in the last week, I've had 5 migraines, 2 sore throats, a cough, a runny nose, a 24-hour fever, 2 cases of pinkeye, 1 puffy foot tendon, a persistent case of the hiccups, some mystery face bruises, and approximately -100,000 hairs on my head.  Not to mention I was just sick little over a month ago.  All minor things, but this is coming from someone who worked in an ER in the midst of flu season without even catching a sniffle.

I'm getting worried, not because being sick is so terrible, but because I think that I brought this illness onto myself.

Being proud

I am done with the semester!  I can't even express how relieved I am, because it has been a very hard semester.  I was a straight-A student right up until I graduated high school, and even though I got a "B" here and there in college I finished my first (very tough) degree with honors.  One would expect college 2.0 would be pretty effortless for me.

Not the case.  Last week, I went into one of finals feeling adequately prepared.  When I looked at the test, it was like it was in a foreign language.  I don't know what was going on with my brain (anxiety attack, maybe?), but I couldn't understand a thing.  I turned in the final three hours later and begged my professor not to fail me.*

Yeah, I'm one of those students who always leaves a test thinking that "I failed" when I probably got B.  Only this time, I was pretty sure I actually failed, as in F.

And yet, I can't regret what I did this semester.  I put in 100%, and while it's frustrating to get such mediocre results, I know I could not have possibly put more effort than I did.  Maybe I took on too much.  Maybe I'm getting too old to compete with the youngsters (I'm only 22, but if you're 18, enjoy it while you can cause it all goes downhill from there).  In any case, I'm proud of everything I did, even if I don't have anything to show for it.

Another thing I'm proud of?  My run last night.

6.1 miles.  8:54 min/mile.

It was long.  It was fast.  And I didn't feel like I was going to die afterwards.  I probably could have gone a couple extra miles, but it was already 7:00 pm  and I was hungry.

Honestly, I don't always love running, but I love seeing these achievements.  Not everyone can run 6 miles, especially the girl who couldn't run the mile in gym class.  Now if only that could get me into graduate school...

*I didn't fail!  Now, wish me luck in organic chemistry...

"You look like a bagel."

That's what my mom said to me today.

I was trying on some dresses from her closet, and she made a comment about how she didn't understand why I still had some belly fat even though I'd been running more.  I mentioned that I thought it was because I had eaten a bagel earlier in the day, and that I was bloated (I think I have issues with gluten).  She laughed, saying, "You look like a bagel."

And people wonder why I moved out of her house...

Even though I told her multiple times, my mom doesn't understand that she hurts people with the things that she says.  Whenever I tell her I was hurt by something she said, she refuses to listen, and somehow ends up blaming me for being too sensitive and restricting her freedom of speech.  But, if I could talk to her, these are the things that I wish I could say:

Just keep running...

As if you haven't heard me complain enough...this has been a very tough winter.  And just when everyone thought it was over, it snowed earlier this week, at the end of April.  My new policy is if there is no snow on the ground, I must make every effort to get out and run, because who knows when the next time will be?

Luckily, today was a lovely day.  High 40s, a little windy, but very bright.  I put on my technical jacket and running tights and went to the canal.

7:53 and 70 degrees

Do you see that 2 mile split?  7:53.  What?!  I did that?  Excuse me while I take a moment...

No more races?

I'm getting to a point where I love running.  I love having that time to myself to forget about the million things I worry about at any given time, to be able to zone out, learn something new on my favorite podcast, and see what my body can do.  That being said, I don't think I love racing.  Granted, I've only run three.  But, while I feel like a lot of people run to race, I just run to run.  For now, I think I might hold off on the races, and these are some reasons why: