Speed Trials

Hi Everyone.

I’m still here, I’m still alive.  Things are fine, and I scheduled a doctor’s appointment yesterday, where I was packed off for a blood test.  Nothing major, just a little run down.

So I’m takin’er sleazy in the meantime. Instead of running a 50 minute tempo run, I made a trip to Bulk Barn and made granola and faux sausages.  Instead of Sunday’s 80km bike ride, I’m going to make Perogies with a friend. And instead of worrying about my goal time for the Fall Colours 10k, I’m just going to go with the flow and know that there will be other opportunities for me to run a sub 50min 10k.

Life goes on, I guess…

Still feeling run down, I opted to turn my planned 7k run into a 7k walk.   That way, I would still cover the same distance, but just at a slower pace. I also hoped a brisk walk would boost my mood and my energy, maybe even get a little sweat-on to try to wash out any toxins that were making me feel poopy.

The walk promised to be lovely, along the Rideau Canal, on an overcast, albeit very warm, afternoon. I snapped a few pictures of the beautiful fall foliage. I was listening to some tunes on my iPod, and I was starting to feel a bit better.

But about 2/3 of the way home, something changed, and I started to feel really uneasy and anxious. I was having a hard time walking in a straight line, and instinctively I put my hand to my forehead for comfort. That’s when I felt it: a thin, viscous layer of sweat all over my forehead. I didn’t even realize I had been sweating, but as I looked at my fingertips, wet and shiny, I felt a bead of sweat pool on the edge of my eyebrow and drop heavily onto my shirt.  I tried in vain to wipe the sweat from my brow, hoping I wasn’t being too conspicuous on this widely used trail.  I reached around and wiped my hand on the back of my thighs, and felt that they were wet too. I was, in fact, sweating profusely from every pore of my body. I could feel my pants stick to my thighs as I walked, I could feel a bead of sweat run down between my boobs under my shirt, I could feel it collecting in a pool under my arms, in the crick of my elbows and the backs of my knees. I couldn’t stop it; I was hemorrhaging water from every ounce of me, and there was no discernible reason why.

I tried to walk more quickly, but lacked the energy. That’s when I started to panic. What do you when you’re still a few kilometers from home, and WALKING is unbearable? It’s not like when I’m on a run and I can slow down to a walk; I was already walking! I didn’t know what to do, so I just kept walking. I tore my earbuds out of my ears, all of sudden irritated by their very presence, and I started feeling aches and pains all over my body. My toe was throbbing, I realized, and my knee was tweaked and I couldn’t get it to snap back.  My hip also seemed out of line.  And then, my stomach joined in.

I felt that first gurgle in my belly, all too familiar to me from my days of chronic stomach upset. I had to get home. That was my only thought. I had to get home, and lock myself away from all these passersby who were seeing me in such a state. I subconsciously brushed my hair in front of my face whenever I crossed another pedestrian. The blocks seemed to stretch on for all eternity, and no matter how fast I thought I was walking, I couldn’t make any headway.

Finally, I was turning onto my street, and thankful to see the familiar entrance to my home. I walked into the house and straight into the washroom. That’s when I took a look at myself in the mirror. My face and neck were shiny with a film of salty sweat. My skin was pasty, and to my surprise and horror, it was not pink or white or even grey, it was… yellow. It was yellow, and it was frightening. I slowly peeled off every item of clothing I had on, dropping them down on the floor in a heap.  Some dropped with a plop, heavy with sweat; finally there was a little mountain of fabric that contained within it all my shame and worry. I stepped into the shower and turned the water on hot. It was so wonderful to finally feel something clean and soothing cover my skin, and wash away all the sickness from the walk. Once I was done, and clean, I turned on the faucet and ran a shallow bath. I dumped in a boat load of epsom salt, and submerged my tired and weary legs. Finally, sitting in the tub with my legs outstretched, feeling the salt tingling and relaxing the muscles, I started to relax myself, and even closed my eyes for a brief moment or two.

When I felt I could pull myself together, I got out of the tub and donned my flannel pyjamas. The ones I only wear when I’m sick or distressed. Tonight I am both.

Oooh, I want to do this so bad…

But I don’t know if I can do it. Or, I should say, I don’t know if I could do it at the group’s pace…  But if you think you can do it, check out Tall Tree’s blog, http://talltreerides.blogspot.com/, to find out all the details.

This week’s training was a little lackluster. Extenuating circumstances caused me to run shorter, slower, and with more difficulty than I had in weeks prior. Here is a little review of the week in running (and training):

Monday I had to work late, so it was a rest day from weight training (not that I’ve been doing nearly enough of that since the 30-day shred)

Tuesday I was supposed to run 6k – nice and fast – but I didn’t have it in me and only ran 4. I ran it in 19:29, which is my race pace, so I was pleased that the run was challenging but still doable and (dare I say it) comfortable.

Wednesday I hit the treadmill for my speedwork. I was supposed to crank out 10 400 m sprints (400 m at a moderate pace, followed by 400 m at a sprint, repeat 10 times) but after the 7th sprint, my legs were sore, my stomach was in knots, and my lungs were DONE, so I called it a day. My running form was starting to go, and I didn’t want to hurt my knee or anything else in an effort to squeeze in those last three sprints.

Thursday was supposed to be weight training, but I bailed. I know… I HAVE to get back into weight training. (Angelo, the weight lifting guru, helped me put together some targeted workouts, so I’m excited to give those a try).

Friday was a rest day. I LOVE rest days!!

Saturday I was supposed to run 10k, but I didn’t.  I don’t really know why, except that I was tired, and I wanted to do nothing but read my book and knit my skirt. I was supposed to go out with some friends on Saturday night, but because I knew I still had this run to do, I cut the night short and went to bed before midnight.

Sunday – Today I ran the full 10k.  I’m still feeling less-than-stellar, so my pace was a little slower than I would have liked, despite the fact that I was really huffing and puffing, and my heart rate was in the higher ranges for most of the run.

It’s a real fall day here in Ottawa. The leaves are starting to turn, the sky is overcast, and it took me the first 3km just to warm up. My run took me to Dow’s Lake, and along the Rideau Canal:

The ducks were all in a row…

And the geese were plotting their flight south for the winter.

I left the bike path and turned up Bank Street.  I then turned down Somerset and through Chinatown before heading back home. I was so happy to see the Chinese arch on Somerset:

Remember this?

And not just because it’s so beautiful and almost completed, but because it meant I only had a couple more kilometers to run!!!

In total, I ran 10km in 56:45. That’s EIGHT minutes slower than my goal time.  It’s tough knowing that I could do better, but that outside circumstances are stopping me from running my best, but at the same time, I know that running slow is better than not running at all, and that every minute I dedicate to my training is going to help me improve in my running overall. And I’ve still got another week of hard runs, and a taper week, to get into tip top shape for my race!!

I swear I’m not neglecting you!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to knitting…