Boston Victims Still Need Our Help.

It’s been a month since the Boston Marathon. And although I still do not plan on doing a race re-cap or writing much about my experience here, I do find myself thinking more and more about what running and racing means to me, and to contemporary society. I was already defensive about running, and the Boston Marathon was already a hugely symbolic, personal, and meaningful event that I care very much about, but now, on top of all of these things, I’ll not take my ability to run, my freedom to train, and the easy access to racing opportunities for granted.

And although I now feel a little more at ease developing and talking  about my personal running goals for the rest of the year, those injured at Boston are barely even getting started on their own, changed, life paths.

The One Fund Boston has collected just over 30 million dollars, which sounds like it might be enough. But it’s not even close. If you really think about the life-time health-care costs (including mental health, PT, adaptive technologies, environmental renovations and so on), for any one person injured on April 15th you can probably imagine that just that individual might need $30-million over the course of their life, specifically if you consider that a great many of those injured are very young.

If you are a runner, know a runner, aspire to run, enjoy sports, or belive in our ability to congregate peacefully and without fear, then please contribute to THE ONE FUND or to one of the individual funds set up to help victims (and their families) of the Boston Marathon bombing.

The Go Fund Me website has a page (Believe in Boston) where you can scroll through all of the different funds set up via their site, many of these are groups or individual fund-raising efforts that will then go to other group funds, or families and so on. I tend to prefer to know exactly where my donation will go and prefer to directly contribute to the individual or family. It’s entirely up to you! Here are just a few options:

• Martin Richard’s family: http://richardfamilyfund.org/
• A Scholarship Fund in memory of Lu Lingzi: https://www.bu.edu/alumni-forms/forms/lu-lingzi-fund/
• Jacqui Webb, Paul & JP Norden (both brother’s lost a leg, and Jacqui sustained extensive shrapnel injuries) :http://www.gofundme.com/2mwd0c
• Jeff Bauman (lost both legs): http://www.gofundme.com/BucksforBauman
• Patrick Downes and Jessica Kensky: https://www.giveforward.com/fundraiser/ygf1/helpforpatandjess
• Mery Daniel: http://www.gofundme.com/MeryDaniel
• John Odom: http://www.gofundme.com/2mwtuc
• James “Bim” Costello: http://www.gofundme.com/bimstrong
• Krystle M. Campbell Memorial Fund 25 Park St. Medford, MA 02155

If you know of a person or fund that needs help, leave a link the comments below!

*AB

First Midwest Half Marathon (my perspective)

I think getting a race re-cap posted in under 7 days is a new record. For worst blogger. Wuh-wuh-wuh.

Run bud and snappy dresser Meredith, with me in my BAA colors. I feel guilty for enjoying that people even know what they stand for now.

Last Sunday was my third half marathon this year. That sounds prolific to me, maybe even excessive. Regardless, I’m hoping to bag at least 3 or 4 more races at the distance this year. I think consistently nailing the half is one of the (many) keys to really whittling down my marathon time and sharpening that performance. Also, practicing how to recover while doing some serial racing will hopefully set me up for a successful (or at least not disastrous) fall when I attempt 3 marathons in 3 months. (I’ve updated my race schedule, so if you have no idea what I’m talking about, check out that page)

I was expecting a very poor performance, and to be in a good amount of pain. But I ran far faster and with more consistent splits than I thought I’d be able (1:31:47  finish. The course measured about .10mi long, so this was shockingly close to my PR). And my discomfort was way less than I expected. This race experience was far more challenging mentally than physically.

This Half, in Palos Heights, had several features that make it a great race in my (rather selective) opinion. First, and please forgive my self-indulgence, was that there were race photographers placed much as they are at any other race (at 3/4 the distance, the finish, post-finish etc) but because of the relatively small field (about 1,500 runners) and my particular pacing, there was plenty of space between myself and other runners at most points, and so I have several pictures taken where I actually look like I might be a competitive runner rather than a sardine in a running kit! I’m going to order prints for the first time in ages! (erm. next pay check)

Here’s a nice finishing sequence for you:

My friend Cindy shot a video clip of my finish as well, and my form looks incredibly stiff! And all the on-course photos confirmed that I was basically running like my knee’s can’t bend. Mostly I think that was a fatigue symptom and also from my efforts to guard my psoas injury and not trigger any stitches and cramps. I was mostly successful on that front.

I’m hoping to run both Boston and Eugene next spring, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to do the 2014 installment of this race, but I really want to! This course is perfectly designed for a PR if I were fit for it (and I’d argue, for anyone). Which right now I am not, my body is in a very strange place: mildly injured on two accounts, not exactly de-conditioned, but also not totally “recovered”, and yet not feeling hard training runs…I’m not super clear even on what to do right now. So a lot of snap judgements are being made day-to-day. Case in point: This week I’ve done the following: swim, yoga, total body class, spin, run…who am I? I’ve also done a lot of pity-party throwing with cider and lots of decidedly not training friendly foods.

But I digress, back to Palos, the course is out and back, which I love because I get a real boost both on the way out (seeing the top runners) and the way back (seeing everyone else). There are several rolling hills that are just enough of a challenge that you see people begin to drop off  just before the turn around. To date, all my PR’s, for every distance, are on hills, and most of my “podium” finishes are also from hilly courses. Now, Palos doesn’t technically qualify as hilly, which is why I think people probably struggled. If you’re expecting flat terrain, you’re probably not strategizing appropriately for the inclines and declines when they do arrive, and also, especially as you get tired, it can be really hard to switch gears in terms of stride length and cadence to keep an even effort of hills if you haven’t been practicing. Both Meredith (see photo at top of post) and I love hills, and seem to sort of intuitively know how to tackle them. It’s admittedly really satisfying to pass people on hills who previously blew past you on the flats.

I tried to make it all instagram-hipstery. Like? I think the ribbons are pretty excellent. Photo credit: Action Sports Images

I hinted above that it was an emotional race. That might actually be an exaggeration, mostly I just could not focus, I couldn’t seem to block out intrusive thoughts about Boston, and everything that has come with it.

This is very unusual for me. The major appeal of running, and most definitely racing, is that when I’m doing it, there is nothing else. It’s the very definition of mindfulness, and escapism. Two things I typically really, really, suck at. Truly.

I actually did have a race plan: I was settled that I’d run a 7:45 pace (this is where I am usually most comfortable for a long run) and just slow down if it hurt.

As we were walking over to the start area we passed a few police SWAT (I think) officers (?) carrying military grade rifles. They looked EXACTLY like the men that were so kind to me when I needed to get out of my hotel room the morning after the Boston Marathon but was totally not OK being alone. At that time, seeing the uniforms, and even the weapons, was a comfort. It seemed to bring a level of order and sense to total chaos and confusion. But last Sunday morning, seeing them made me unbearably angry.

Military level security does not belong at road races. It made me feel like I should be expecting another terrible event like that on Patriots Day. And that infuriates me.

I understand that race directors are obligated now to increase security. And I understand that I am likely in a minority of people so passionately defensive of running that we don’t want the symbolism of the increased security measures to be there. I understand that, but it doesn’t change my reaction to it.

The national anthem was awesome, a high school girl I believe, I was grateful I was wearing sunglasses. And from the start to mile 5 I couldn’t stop thinking about those SWAT officers.  (I’m actually not 100% I using the right designation, but it conjures the accurate image)

I started the race still enraged, and it showed. My first mile split was a 6:36 which is somewhere extremely close to my 10k PR pace. Whoops. Mile 2 was 6 seconds slower….and mile 3  just under 7 minutes. At that point I had somewhat of a rhythm, and nothing hurt yet, so I decided to try to focus on keeping it there. I think I succeeded in focusing for about 2 seconds out of every 10.

At mile 5, I stopped thinking about Boston, and about how betrayed I felt running had been, and just thought about stopping. I was miserable, I didn’t have an ounce of desire to run, and I just wanted to stop, sit down, and eventually wander back to the start. Then I remembered that my friend was waiting for me, and she as going to interview me for a project for a class she’s taking.

And the symbolism hit me. I thought about how giving up because I felt heartbroken, which was because of the increased security, which was because of the terror attack…would be the exact opposite of what I stand for.

So I decided that to take another moment of running for granted, or to waste even another second of the opportunity to race, and soak up the race atmosphere (which I love!) would make me a complete fool. And although I could tell that my body would not be able to go any faster, I began to do what I would normally do in a race, I started to try to pick people off.

Once I saw the lead woman go by on her back half of the course, I counted each additional woman, and at the turn around I counted myself as number 20. I decided to try to get to 15th place for the finish. Sighting and then catching up to  the women in front of me took patience, which was exactly the type of project I needed to keep my mind off of ANYTHING else, and on running.

I finished as the 17th woman. And 100% smitten with running again.

I had worried briefly at mile 9 that at the finish there would be a heavy law enforcement presence again. I was relieved when I saw none. About 20minutes later someone pointed out to me two snipers positioned on rooftops, and facing the finishing area. My heart went right back down to my toes, and I was again devastated, and felt hopeless, and thought I might just scrap my summer running plans and join a masters swim team.

By the time I got to a Monday morning recovery run, those precious 7 miles, where I was committed to running, and only running, and taking down a course and a few competitors piece by piece, kept coming back to me. And I feel so relieved. Those moments of hard work, of joy, of success, are way more powerful than anything else. And that is how it should be.

Between Boston, and this race, I’d only gone running 4 times, with 4 additional failed attempts. And each mile felt endless. Monday morning I finally ran 8 miles that felt like they took an appropriate amount of time. That is to say, it flew by.

So in the end, racing is still a symbol of all that it is to be free, and it is still a sanctuary. Just don’t look to the rooftops.

*Annabelle

Transitioning from Boston

Pre-Boston, my plan for post-Boston had been to take 10 days mostly off of running to recover, and put together a killer training program that would span from the 11th day after Boston and carry me through my last planned event for 2013: The Catalina Eco Marathon on November 9th (FYI, that’s the day after my birthday, feel free to send gifts). I have only completed a few uncomfortable runs, and have barely thought about what my training for the next 6 months is going to look like. One run worth noting, however, was the back half of a friend’s marathon, the week after Boston.

My motivation to run, even a little, took a sharp nose-dive two and a half weeks ago. I recognized it for what it was, which was, I think, equal parts:

1. a bizarre “injury” to my right side…
2. legitimate post-PR need for rest
3. a conflagration of conflicting emotions that were a bit slow to take shape regarding the events post-marathon in Boston
4. frustration when I realized how big my goals are and how limited my resources seem (and the profound guilt at thinking that way, see #3)

The 3rd point has taken a lot of forms, but the one related to running is that it has seemed foolish to focus at all on my very self-indulgent, self-interested running goals, amidst what has happened.

I spent some time last weekend speaking with a friend who was writing an article that focuses on having ran the Boston Marathon and coping with the stark change in tone that occurred during the experience. It was a hugely therapeutic exercise that made me realize I’ve been avoiding blogging, planning my training, reading blogs/articles, and indulging in all things running, because admitting how important it is to me is uncomfortable given the recent context.

Although this is a personal blog, I still don’t want to re-count my experience in Boston here (it’s not going to add anything to what others have already written), but people have been so kind to inquire so I’ll say this: I felt safe the entire time and  was surrounded by friends. The way the bombing has affected me, personally, has nothing to do with running (Except that I will not be posting a race re-cap) and doesn’t belong in this format.

I will say this piece though: I am very disappointed in the general attitude amongst running-bloggers that it’s important to “move-on” quickly. Within 8 hours of the bombing in Boston I saw posts mentioning moving on and focusing back on your goals and training. I think that is OK, for some people, but to pressure everyone to do the same is not.

Being “Boston Strong” doesn’t mean to push ahead with aggressive defiance, it’s ok to be shaken.

If terrorism didn’t make us self-reflect, didn’t scare us, and didn’t throw us off our game for a while, then we would call it something else, and we’d be changed fundamentally, and in a way that reduces freedom.

Running is perhaps the ultimate expression of freedom.Very often my motivator to get out there when I’m not feeling like it, is to remind myself how amazingly fortunate I am to have not only the capacity to make such a choice, but the freedom to execute that choice.

So please, stop telling me that I am “entitled to celebrate” my PR.

I know that I am.

I just don’t want to.

On a happier note, although jumping right into training again hasn’t panned out, I did, last weekend make a list of the things that would help me move up another “level” in racing. I’ve got two items crossed off already: I am currently “shopping” a few chiropractor, and with help from some former colleagues, I got a membership to the kick-assingest gyms in Chicago (slight bias there). This morning marked my first swim workout in years. Which, as you can see, I was thrilled about.

Flattering picture, isn’t it?

I’m running this Sunday in Palos (First Midwest Half Marathon). Back in March I was planning on a PR effort, and to break 1:30, however, it appears I can’t maintain my marathon pace (so certainly not Half pace) for more than a mile without some pain, so I’ll be running just to soak up the environment, and the energy.

*AB

The Punk Syndrome

I’m a bit out to sea in regards to my running and training plans at the moment.

But here’s a peek at a documentary I am chomping at the bit to see. If the video doesn’t load click here.

*AB

“…Hopkinton…will be a lovefest such as running has never seen…”

That (title), an edited quote from Amby Burfoot’s brief article on the Runner’s World website today. There are many great pieces being published on the internet every hour, and I still find myself devouring every one. This one holds tremendous weight because as Amby (who won the Boston Marathon in 1968, and is editor-at-large for Runner’s World Magazine) points out, that this was not an attack on runners, it was an attack on people congregating in celebration on the public sidewalks of a major city.

We runners tend to wax poetic about training, racing, and the running community. It’s usually a practice that is embraced only by our training partners and our closest and most loyal supporters, those who (with an occasional sigh or roll of the eyes) put up with our bizarre habits, constant self-criticism, and tireless sense of betterment.

If runners are a sub-culture, then Boston Marathon runners and spectators, are a fiercely close and loyal family. One of my training buddies, and closest friends, was at work in Chicago when everything went to chaos on Monday, she was there with us last year, and she felt the floor drop away until she knew we were all safe. She described her feelings on Tuesday as I think a lot of us feel, like someone broke into our homes when we were sleeping, and took everything.

The following quote was part of a status update on The Science of Sport’s Facebook page on Tuesday:

“I believe the price of admission into running self-selects people who can hear an explosion at the end of a gruelling test of endurance, turn and keep on running straight into the debris with no regard for safety or trembling legs. Images like this will be the outcome of this barbaric act, and it will unite runners in their common qualities of courage and perseverance”

-from a FaceBook follower, Quill McWilliams

I’m already grateful we took a very last-minute group picture as we were leaving the athletes village on Monday morning.

The weather on Monday was beautiful, and a lot of people posted new PR’s. We didn’t feel exactly right doing it, but we sheepishly took a few photos when we were able leave our meet-up spot on Monday evening. We had to be strategic to not have Metro SWAT officers (agents?) in the photos.

I’m sharing these pictures because like everything else, they come with so many conflicting emotions. It’s impossible to know what is appropriate, what is selfish, what is helpful, what is normal, what is an overreaction…

You try to focus on work or other things you’d normally do three days after a marathon and you feel guilty for not keeping vigilant watch over your friends, family, and the news. Then, you turn to tracking all the news and social media, and you feel guilty for not doing work, or whatever else needs to be seen to. You get compulsively anger when people crack a simple joke, and you’re angry at yourself when you laugh.

At this point things are moving very fast, and yet very slow. For those wanting to help it is my thought that the best thing you can do is contribute to The One Fund Boston. Information here. Don’t buy items on eBay that say they’ll contribute, and don’t donate to any other grassroots efforts, not because they’re a definite scam, but because they might be, and because the charity business can be tricky and even with the purest of intentions, sometimes money doesn’t go where it’s intended.

On the other side of this, there are going to be a lot of people who need medical and mental health services, not to mention things that are long-term such as prosthetics and other technologies. Knowing the running community as intimately as I do, and having taken so much from it in just the past two years, I have every confidence that those directly harmed in Monday’s inexorable and despicable act will want for nothing, because they have millions of runners behind them, and there is not a more driven population anywhere.

Every year (for the past 25 yrs) the BAA offers somewhere around 2,500 entries to charity runners. The Boston Marathon event raises more than 16 million US dollars for a variety of charities. Something I haven’t heard echoed in the media yet, is that many of the runners who were halted from finishing, were there as charity entrants, and each had raised a minimum of $4,000. It was these runners for whom the crowds on Boylston street were cheering.

Just chew on that for a minute.

There really isn’t much beyond the symbolic gestures of support that we can do right now, but we  can contribute funds so that the victims of Monday’s tragedy, our biggest fans, our family, want for nothing, and feel as loved and cared for as I did on Monday afternoon, both as congratulatory messages poured in first, and then as panicked inquiries came soon after.

Adidas is producing shirts , they are the official partner of the BAA and proceeds of the shirts will go to The One Fund Boston. Click on the image to purchase a shirt from Adidas. (it appears they are selling out, I’d bet they do another production round)

New Balance has announced they’ll donate from sales of this year’s Boston limited edition shoe.

Running stores all over the country are holding “Runners for Boston” events on Monday evening, the 22nd, and they will all be either taking cash donations, selling shirts and donating the proceeds, or both.

I’ll be at the Fleet Feet Old Town event in Chicago. Click here for information.

Also here is more information on ways to show your support for Boston.

Or, of course, you can go to www.onefundboston.org and make a cash donation.

*AB

Boston, my heart.

I’m waiting for a flight back to Chicago now and just want to take a moment say thank you to everyone for your check-ins yesterday. I was and still am deeply moved by how actively, and how many concerned people there were.

I’ve had many conflicting, confusing, intense, and unpredictable, even irrational emotions and strands of thought over the past 24 hrs. Which actually fairly accurately follows the typical emotional trend I’ve experienced while running each and every marathon so far.

Normally by now I’d have my splits for every mile memorized and compared them with where I was on the course, what was going on around me, and how I was feeling. At this point I have seen my 5k splits from the web, but haven’t looked at my garmin data. I just feel sad, defenseless, and have no idea how I’ll feel in another five minutes.

I tend to operate in defense mode when it comes to running. A great many of the positive aspects of my life either have come directly from running or have been made better because of its wide reaching effects.

So whenever people criticize, trivialize, minimize, or underestimate what this sport is, I get hot-headed.

In this situation I feel only disbelief. And heartache.

I just can’t wait to be home.

I walked around the back bay for about and hour this morning. It was a military zone, and until about 9:30am, a ghost-town. I had my Marathon jacket on and three different local residents approached me and asked if I was ok and had everything I needed. I walked and chatted with one women, about the same age as my own parents for a few blocks. We were both teary eyed.

As I made my way through an ID checkpoint to go back to my hotel, it really looked like a movie scene, all the uniforms and guns. People were taking pictures everywhere. That felt wrong to me. But yet I can’t tear myself away from the news casts and articles.

I bought a copy of the Boston Globe, but didn’t read it. I’ll put it in my training log with my bib. A motivator for tough days during training next winter.

In the moments between the sadness and frustration I’m feeling overwhelmed with love for this sport, the people it inspires, and the community it engenders.

My body is going back to Chicago, but my heart will remain in Boston.

*AB

Packing a suitcase is harder than running a marathon.

In 16 hours or so I’ll be in Boston, and I am finally feeling simply excited. Not nervous, not scared or worried, not doubtful, just excited.

I had to make some accommodation changes yesterday, my hotel roommate injured her hip and can’t run. My heart breaks for her, I was devastated when I had to bail on Boston in 2011, and that was still many weeks out, to have to back off in the final week…I can’t even…I know she’ll recover and nail it next year!

Anyway, we worked this all out, but I panicked. The thought of staying alone seemed just unbearable (I know, tiny violin). So I called my sister-in-running Lee Ann, who has, graciously as always, solved all my problems.

It’s not the first time she’s come to my rescue. She’s also saved me from myself at Karaoke:

I’ve mostly finished packing but have gone through the same debate as last year: travel very light with only running gear and lounge clothes, or attempt to dress like a free-range human for at least part of the trip. I’ve unpacked and repacked several times, and now have no idea what is in that suitcase.

The little girls helped:

Early this morning Penelope and I went over my race-strategy…well, not really, mostly we just looked at the course pictures and day-dreamed about a perfect run. That’s sufficient at this point I think.

I have also spent the required time playing with and photographing my race-day get up.

Fits well, doesn’t it?

There are several higher quality things I could use your time (and mine) posting about, but right now I just want to be self-interested and happily and on my way to Bean Town.

I’m not bringing a computer with me, just my phone. I’m sure I’ll post something, but I have no plans for what or when. Follow me on Twitter, Instagram (all are @fluencysfolly) or Facebook.

If you’re racing anywhere this weekend (or in Boston), may the course be with you, and the wind ever at your back!

*AB

 

Gear!

The theme for the 30 Days To Boston Photo Challenge today is GEAR. I could post many pictures for this one…here’s a few. There’s nothing minimalist about most runners I know.

I skipped several days of this challenge for lack of creative lightning strikes…and the fact that I did exactly 30 minutes of cross training over the past 17 weeks, and all of those minutes were last week. And cross training was the theme for 2 different photo challenge days. I was set up!

This is an old picture from a rainy/snowy week:

Most used and best gear-gift ever received:

Garmin Forerunner 305! Yes, it’s an old model. It’s also the BEST model.

*AB

Take your head out of your arse and put it back in the clouds.

I sincerely apologize for my radio silence. But now that we’re officially a week out (less, if you want to be precise) from the start of the Boston Marathon. I promise you I will be present and transparent, as I usually (compulsively) am.

Thank you so much to those who have reached out via email, comments, and social media to check in on the status of my (runner’s) body, and offered words of wisdom and encouragement. You make me feel like this:

If you would like to track my race next Monday you can set it up via text (as indicated below) or click on the image below to sign up via email.  I won’t know you’re tracking me unless you tell me, so let me know! Last year at Boston as well as Chicago, knowing that people were following along with my progress was a tremendous help in keeping a positive and focused mindset when things got rough.

Speaking of a positive and focused mindset, I’ve not had one since the week after the Cary March Madness Half (read about it here). Very quickly post-race I went from a confirmed knowledge that my training plan was showing some seriously desirable results, to panicking and obsessing that my fitness had peaked too early and now the marathon would be a total slog.

Yes, I’m a brat. Go ahead and take a second to mutter comments in that direction.

My foot isn’t any better other than the swelling having gone down. My plan called for around 55 miles last week and I clocked 25 plus a lot of sulking. I ran 6 miles tonight, and they were slow and uncomfortable, my foot/ankle/soul wasn’t painful at all until after I stopped but I just have no rhythm and I feel like this is a new body, not the one I was training with all winter.

Again: wah-wah-wah!

I’m having a complete shoe crisis, because I bought a pair of excellent new kicks (Brooks Pure Flow 2), but now I’m worried that the former model (Brooks Flow: a fine shoe, but maybe I put too many miles on them real fast) is actually what might have caused this issue, and so now wonder if I should pick up a new pair of  Mizuno Wave Riders (which is what the bulk of my mileage was done with), and race in those next Monday. I love the Brooks Pure Flows, but I haven’t been running in the low drop shoe’s as much this year as I did last, and though I can certainly endure the marathon in them, I fear I’ll develop an injury that will then need 6 weeks to recover…or the injury is from overused Wave Riders…

The outside tongue is attached…why are all shoes not built this way?

Ach! The conflict!

Advice is very welcomed, If I’m going to go buy shoes (again) it has to be tomorrow after work (Tuesday).

But, back to what I really want to say. There are plenty of possible disasters regarding next Monday that I can mull over, but it’s time to work on my dreaming again.

I’d always rather set a potentially too high goal and joyously strive for it, than to be so caught up in limitations that I end up swirling around, miserable, and stagnant, which is where I’ve been for the last 10 days. And it stinks.

(Except at work: I’ve been extremely productive there…coping mechanisms are amazing.)

So back in the clouds I go! And I am going to keep running over my perfect race in my mind, and picture running a 3:15 at Boston.

Also, not sure if anyone else noticed but Shalane and Kara clearly want me to join their ranks, because their uniforms for Boston look very much like something I would race in:

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Yesterday my friend Erin (who KILLED the Shamrock Shuffle in 31:10!!!) reminded me that right after the race pictured above, a woman said to me “I love your costume”.

Yup.

Not a costume.

Other than day-dreaming about keeping up with the pro-elites, I started plugging away at the list of items I need to pack for Boston tonight. Which rendered my first sincere swell of genuine excitement for the trip, and race day. I was even tempted to get my suitcase out.

My last pair of cheap glasses broke a few weeks ago after 6 years of sweat!

Did I share yet my gel epiphany from a few weeks ago? It’s hilarious and self-effacing (humiliating), you all will love it.

And with that, before I make this lumbering post more awkward than it is, have a great day and dream-on friends!

*AB

Hypocondraisis is normal during taper. But I didn’t start tapering yet!

I owe you all a race report from Saturday’s 10k…hopefully this will suffice, I really don’t excel at writing race reports. But I am really good at sharing the potentially comedic and definitely woe-is-me-first-world-problem elements of my (running) life. So consider that fair warning and let the whining commence.

Here’s a picture of the kids mile before the Fast Cat events to hook you. I love watching kids fun runs, it’s just like watching a marathon:

All the runners start full of smiles and enthusiasm, and at the end at least half are in hysterical tears.

Last week I had a touch of a cold, or something. It came, it sucked for a couple of days and it passed. I had a great tempo run, and a great “YASSO”-esque workout.

Then, before the 10k Saturday morning I woke up annoyingly early to follow my normal pre-race routine. 5am, drank my usual glass of water, brushed my teeth, gagged inexplicably, and threw up in the sink. Twice.

Like I said, totally normal routine.

I ate a cashew almond bar and tried not to throw up inside old blue while driving the hour out to Plainfield.

I shrugged off my body’s bizzare antics and did a 2 mile warm up and kept my little heart set on trying to break 40 minutes. I was right on target too!

For the first mile.

Then I felt a lot of tension in my hip flexors, so I shortened my stride and picked up my feet. Then I got a side stitch so I slowed down and focused on my breathing. Then the lower part of my abdominal muscles (yah, I don’t know either( started to cramp)…

This routine continued up until the last 800 meters. Which is when I decided to speed up for the finish thinking I could salvage a high 40:++ time. Nope.

I’m not sure if anyone was taking pictures at the end there, but I sure hope so, because they will be amazing. I Quasimoto’ed my way down the last quarter-mile, with my right hand grasping my side so hard I’m surprised my obliques aren’t bruised.

I had such severe abdominal muscle spasms that I probably looked ridiculously dramatic when I finished and crouched over. For a quick second I actually thought I had fractured a rib.

I recovered enough after about 5 minutes to hobble my way through a one-mile cool-down. Taking deep breaths was not an option.

I have DOMS from the whole ordeal.

I felt really uncomfortable and continued to have random but far less intense muscle spasms all weekend. Of course, I asked a random and very obliging stranger to take a post race picture:

I assumed the route of my problems was a lack of core strength/endurance and a lack of flexibility.

The next day before my long run, I did some half-pigeoning and pulled out an old anatomy book.

I concluded that my issue has to do with my right psoas. But I know neither the precipitating factors, nor what to do about it.

I managed to run a reasonably comfortable 15 miles on Sunday.

Then on Monday (yesterday), while at work I grew suspicious of my left foot.

For about a week now I’ve thought I had an irritated spot, or bruise, from either a pair of work shoes, or hitting it randomly (it happens. frequently). I took off the old trouser sock and found some swelling.

I then poked, prodded, did some internet “researching” and had a very lengthy text session with Marron. Conclusion: a bit of peroneal tendonitis. This is probably from either lacing my shoes too tightly, wearing the 4mm Brooks pure-Flows too much too soon (unlikely: i’ve peppered in use of other low-drops and I’ve only used them a handful of times), or from wearing shoes that are too worn (my wave riders have something like 800 miles on them…but they look great, it’s so confusing!). I am not totally convinced that any one of these things is the cause…but self-diagnosis is not really an exact science anyway.

I’m not in any acute pain. It really does just feel like a bruise, and a little stiff. And I pretty unclear on the judgement call of running when there is swelling (even this small amount) present.

Boston is less than two weeks away. Which presents another decision-making challenge. I basically have until Friday to get in my last two quality workouts (6x1mi repeats, and a 10mi tempo/MGP), then I have to start my taper…because that would be 10 days out.

I know that very often you can train through tendonitis, and two weeks is a very short amount of time. I also know that sometimes it only takes one hard workout, or one mile too many to turn a niggling discomfort into a full-blown side-lining injury.

All this “knowing” has made staying in an anxiety-free zone very tough, and making a firm decision and a plan to follow even harder. So for now I’m chosing the middle road.

Last night instead of running I went for a stroll with my little family:

And tonight instead of running I am going to go to a blogger event at Road Runner Sports.

Hopefully tomorrow the tenderness and swelling will be gone, and my core area won’t be sore anymore, and then I’ll go for a run.

My training has gone so well all winter that I feel really silly to be so worked up and complaining, and worried. But that’s the pull of the Boston Marathon, it makes you want perfection.

*AB

P.S. for those interested my 10k time was 41:22, good enough for second place….I got totally taken to school by a blazing 14-year-old runner.