Speed is Relative

I recently had occasion to cease criticism of myself for a few minutes and give myself credit for the incredible amount of work I've done to get to this point. The occasion was this article about Jennifer Love Hewitt running the LA Rock 'n' Roll Half Marathon in 3:09. Not only did Jennifer run with her boyfriend, she was paced by Deena Kastor (American record holder and Olympic medalist). And my first thought was: I beat Jennifer Love Hewitt AND Deena Kastor with my lightning fast time of 2:43! Some people might obsess on the fact that Deena Kastor was very pregnant. Just let me have my moment! I always agonize over my speed and find myself apologizing to people for being so slow. As if they care how fast or slow I am, as long as they can continue eating cans of Pringles in front of the television. On a related topic, do you ever feel guilty about binging while watching The Biggest Loser? I usually don't even eat while it's on because I can feel the guilt from Bob and Jillian being transmitted over the airwaves. I should probably do sit ups during commercial breaks or something.

OK back to the original topic: I beat myself up for being "slow" and I think, "If I can do it anyone can do it." I'm starting to realize that may not be true. Yes, I was finisher 2387 at the Women's Half but there were 997 women (and some men, but that's another story) behind me. And I'm pretty sure they were trying their best and not just letting me "win." A 12:30 or 12:00 minute mile pace may be slow for some people but considering I never thought I would be a runner, it's pretty fast for me. And I know there are some women out there now thinking they will never be able to run because it's just too hard. I used to be that woman. Ten years ago I even wrote, "walking is all I'm capable of." And I was ten years younger, with springier knees and joints that didn't crack upon rising from the dinner table. I've decided it's all mental. A lot of people live by the Henry Ford quote: 

If you think you can do a thing or think you can't do a thing, you're right.

Now Henry Ford may have had some other issues (Nazi ties anyone) but this quote pretty much sums it up. If I think I can never run, I never will. And I like to think some day I will run like a gazelle through the savanna. I picture myself being that elegant now but I think if I ever saw a video of my running form it would be a different story. But I still strive for that. I know I will get faster and I know that every "slow" step I take brings me closer to that point. I am a runner (no matter what Pearl Izumi says). And I am fast.

Half Marathon Recovery

You (the generic you, who might be interested in anything I have to say) will be happy to know I am still running. Sometimes I run faster than I ever thought possible. And then I die a little during my one minute walk break. But no matter, it's interval training at its finest and soon I will be super, extra speedy. In the two weeks following my half marathon I followed the recovery program from Marathoning for Mortals. They also have a walk/run program for the half so I'm following it for PF Chang's in January. The two weeks of recovery included walking at first and then shorter runs. I did progress to a 7 mile run last week and let's just say it was hovering above horrible. I like running in the cold but it feels like my legs are frozen chopsticks sometimes and they won't be lifted above shuffling. But the recovery period was super. Looking forward to doing it again.

Other Things Responsible for My Super Recovery:

Ice bath and massage day of the race

Continuing to exercise after the race and not allowing myself to take a six month time off

Volunteering for an Ironman.

Volunteering for the Ironman was perhaps key in my psychological recovery. I figure I cannot whine about 13.1 miles around people doing a marathon AFTER a 2.4 mile swim AND 112 mile bike ride. It was so inspiring to see all kinds of people (not just skinny little stick people) completing the distance. But I don't know if it made me want to do one or vow to never do one. Not in the near future anyway. An actual conversation with one of the participants:

Him: Do you know if soda settles your stomach?
Me: I've heard on good authority, from the only person I actually know who's completed an Ironman, that it helps.
Him: I feel like I need to throw up.
Me: Well, um, just throw up then. It's probably better, right?
Him: I've been trying to throw up for the last hour.
Me: (in my head) OK, good luck with that.

So you see, volunteering at an Ironman offers both highs and lows. Next year I'm going to volunteer early so I can actually see the Elites finish. I was an hour or so too late this time. Plus next year I'll try not to poke a snippy high school girl in the eye. Note to self: volunteer at an aid station with less teenage help. Because if you have to hear a 16 year old constantly yelling for volunteers to "back up" you tend to get a little jaded with the youth of today. Sorry for the tangent. Moral of story: volunteer at a race you think you would never do and it really puts your life in perspective. Especially when you see a woman with a prosthetic leg come by three times and know she will complete the race with one good leg while you moan and whinge about how much your arm hurts from pouring water into cups.