I realized this morning after stepping on the scale that I hadn't posted a progress report on the nutrition aspect of my marathon training for a while.
Here are the high--and low--lights:
1) My weight has remained steady to a teensy bit lower. This morning it was 129.4 pounds, putting my BMI at a "normal" 20.3 (see chart here; I am 5' 7"). I'm glad I haven't gained any weight as I've been training (I know this can happen), but I'm also not much closer to my "racing weight" projected at 120 pounds than I was two months ago. Oh well. I'll focus more on that (and on whether or not it's realistic or healthy for me to try to get that low) for my Houston training cycle. I haven't weighed that little since high school.
2) I have a body fat feature on my scale. This morning it put me at 22.0%. According to one chart, this lands me in the "fitness" category. That sounds good, until you look one set up and see that there's also an "athlete" category for women with a range of 14-20%. "Athlete" sounds much more like "Boston Marathon qualifier" than "fitness" does (fitness makes me think of aerobics VHS tapes from the 80s). But losing 2 percentage points of fat may be as tough for me as getting down to 120 pounds.
I think there are two reasons I'm still sort of marshmallow-like despite my increasing miles: a) I stopped my weight training class three weeks ago (and before that missed a bunch due to my kidney infection and some kid-related issues) and b) I've fallen off the no-sugar bandwagon--not in a huge way--I've definitely been worse--but wine, pastries and chocolate have crept back into my diet.
Taking care of business on those two fronts, starting now for the sugar and starting after the Top of Utah Marathon for the strength training, may help with that body fat percentage.
3) I got the lab tests back for the blood draw my doctor ordered up in an effort to help me get to the root of my poop issues on some runs. These tests were all normal: no celiac disease, thyroid issues or anything else out of the ordinary. So now I'm waiting to hear back on some stool tests (sorry to be graphic!). I really don't expect those to be out of the ordinary either. I think I just have to be careful with dairy and nuts, and just generally eat really bland food, for about two days ahead of long runs.
Any other diet thoughts out there? Anyone else find the nutrition side of running so much less interesting (and therefore so much more difficult to get a handle on) than things like tempo runs, intervals and pace charts?
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Race Report: The Colorado Relay
So there I am, finished with my first leg (a 3-miler up Boreas Pass), using my friend Patty's foam roller in the gravel next to the trail on top of the pass as we wait for Patty's hand-off to our next guy, Ron. The view is stunning. I'm feeling good. Our team is running well ahead of schedule.
It was in that idyllic moment that I looked down and realized I'd put my hand in something's poop. What did I do about it? I got out the paper towels and the hand sanitizer and wiped that stuff off. Then, when Patty arrived, I assured her the stuff had not in fact gotten on her roller. And then we moved on. That's how you roll in a big 200-mile relay.
Relays are full of moments like this. Here are some other funny moments:
--The Leg 1 runner who finished wearing nothing but his shoes, race number and a white jock strap. Let's just say I'm glad I didn't have to put that number on.
--Watching Ron try to hoist his leg up onto onto our van's bumper for a hamstring stretch after he finished his last run.
--The male team at Copper Mountain who were all wearing slightly pornographic superhero costumes. It reminded me the Chippendales in American flag undies.
--Me getting passed as I cruised down to Vail from Vail Pass by a male ultrarunner who looked like the old children's Bible renditions of Jesus: no body fat, flowing brown hair, no shirt (or body fat). I thought I was going fast before he passed me. After he passed me, I wondered if the altitude was starting to get to me. Was I hallucinating? (It was too early for hallucinations!) Would it next be a Greek god or a book character who glided by me?
--Tim's characterization of his walk from the van to the restaurant in Carbondale after we were ALL finished as "leg 31" of the race. Tim made many such remarks over the course of our group's 30 or so hours together.
--Four of the five of us ordering alcoholic beverages (three Bloody Marys and a screwdriver) at that same breakfast at 7 a.m. I stuck with chai--I was worried about falling asleep at the wheel on my drive back later that day.
--All five of us sleeping in the van at the finish line in Snowmass as we waited for our compadres in the second van to arrive. It probably looked like a van filled with dormant zombies.
--Me using the decidedly leaning port-a-john under the Snowmass ski lift. I seriously thought it was going to tumble down the mountain with me in it.
And there were some really beautiful moments too. I saw three shooting stars, Orion (my favorite constellation) and the rising crescent moon. The fixed stars were beautiful too. I hadn't seen the Milky Way since going camping last summer with my family. It's especially amazing when you're running in a canyon by the Colorado River and the only light other than those stars is coming from your headlamp.
My team was amazing and welcoming, especially considering I was trying to fill some big shoes. Elizabeth, my friend who couldn't make it, is the paragon of optimism and unflagging enthusiasm. She's someone you want in your van in the middle of the night when everyone's tired and starting to get punchy. But the other folks made me feel right at home.
What about the running? That was great too. I did the short but intense 3-mile run I already mentioned, up Boreas Pass. Then I did the 9-mile Vail Pass descent where I saw Jesus. Here's a picture of the bike trail I ran on. It's actually on the I-70 shoulder for a brief while:
In addition to the divine sighting, the adventure of this run was increased because my crampy stomach forced a stop under the I-70 overpass. Luckily I had TP and had been-there, done-that.
My third leg was the magical starlight one, too short at 2.88 miles, in Glenwood Canyon. Here's a picture of what that looks like in the daytime:
Those were my three official legs. But they totaled only just under 15 miles, and my training plan for the Top of Utah Marathon called for a slow steady 22 miler. So (after asking his permission) I jumped in with my teammate Ron (who used to be Dan's boss) for his third leg, a seven-miler between Glenwood Springs and Carbondale. It was just the ticket (though I ended up behind Ron for most of it--he was speedy, and I figured the team wasn't depending on me for this one, so I just tried to stick to my prescribed training pace). And it was on this run that I saw Orion and the crescent moon coming up just ahead of the sun. I'm so glad I did it.
I'm so glad I did the whole thing. If you've never done a relay like this one (or Hood to Coast, which a lot of my blogging buddies did this past weekend), I heartily recommend it. You'll come away with new friends if you're jumping in with people you don't know, and your old friendships will be stronger. You'll have more confidence in your abilities as a runner (10,000 feet isn't a trivial altitude to run at!). You'll see beautiful things and find your perspective softening (I was reminded that there are many many fun things to do in running that have nothing to do with the Boston Marathon).
How am I feeling? Sore quads (Vail Pass), a little tired (but the sleep wasn't too bad considering, and when I got home last night I slept like a rock) and very inspired. I'm hoping my fabulous husband can join this team next year. I certainly owe him. THANK YOU, Dan, for taking care of the kids all weekend so I could do this. (I'll hopefully post some more pictures as my teammates send them out.)
Meanwhile, all of you out there say a prayer for my friend Elizabeth's mom. Elizabeth, thanks to you too! It'll be you next year, flying down Vail Pass behind Jesus.
 |
| Here's the view of a section of my first leg, though this picture was taken later in the day. |
 |
| Our van was parked across from the old boxcar. How that thing got up that pass I'll never know! |
Relays are full of moments like this. Here are some other funny moments:
--The Leg 1 runner who finished wearing nothing but his shoes, race number and a white jock strap. Let's just say I'm glad I didn't have to put that number on.
--Watching Ron try to hoist his leg up onto onto our van's bumper for a hamstring stretch after he finished his last run.
--The male team at Copper Mountain who were all wearing slightly pornographic superhero costumes. It reminded me the Chippendales in American flag undies.
--Me getting passed as I cruised down to Vail from Vail Pass by a male ultrarunner who looked like the old children's Bible renditions of Jesus: no body fat, flowing brown hair, no shirt (or body fat). I thought I was going fast before he passed me. After he passed me, I wondered if the altitude was starting to get to me. Was I hallucinating? (It was too early for hallucinations!) Would it next be a Greek god or a book character who glided by me?
--Tim's characterization of his walk from the van to the restaurant in Carbondale after we were ALL finished as "leg 31" of the race. Tim made many such remarks over the course of our group's 30 or so hours together.
--Four of the five of us ordering alcoholic beverages (three Bloody Marys and a screwdriver) at that same breakfast at 7 a.m. I stuck with chai--I was worried about falling asleep at the wheel on my drive back later that day.
--All five of us sleeping in the van at the finish line in Snowmass as we waited for our compadres in the second van to arrive. It probably looked like a van filled with dormant zombies.
--Me using the decidedly leaning port-a-john under the Snowmass ski lift. I seriously thought it was going to tumble down the mountain with me in it.
And there were some really beautiful moments too. I saw three shooting stars, Orion (my favorite constellation) and the rising crescent moon. The fixed stars were beautiful too. I hadn't seen the Milky Way since going camping last summer with my family. It's especially amazing when you're running in a canyon by the Colorado River and the only light other than those stars is coming from your headlamp.
My team was amazing and welcoming, especially considering I was trying to fill some big shoes. Elizabeth, my friend who couldn't make it, is the paragon of optimism and unflagging enthusiasm. She's someone you want in your van in the middle of the night when everyone's tired and starting to get punchy. But the other folks made me feel right at home.
What about the running? That was great too. I did the short but intense 3-mile run I already mentioned, up Boreas Pass. Then I did the 9-mile Vail Pass descent where I saw Jesus. Here's a picture of the bike trail I ran on. It's actually on the I-70 shoulder for a brief while:
 |
| Interstate on the left; bike path on the right. But there was another section where I was literally on the shoulder. |
My third leg was the magical starlight one, too short at 2.88 miles, in Glenwood Canyon. Here's a picture of what that looks like in the daytime:
Those were my three official legs. But they totaled only just under 15 miles, and my training plan for the Top of Utah Marathon called for a slow steady 22 miler. So (after asking his permission) I jumped in with my teammate Ron (who used to be Dan's boss) for his third leg, a seven-miler between Glenwood Springs and Carbondale. It was just the ticket (though I ended up behind Ron for most of it--he was speedy, and I figured the team wasn't depending on me for this one, so I just tried to stick to my prescribed training pace). And it was on this run that I saw Orion and the crescent moon coming up just ahead of the sun. I'm so glad I did it.
I'm so glad I did the whole thing. If you've never done a relay like this one (or Hood to Coast, which a lot of my blogging buddies did this past weekend), I heartily recommend it. You'll come away with new friends if you're jumping in with people you don't know, and your old friendships will be stronger. You'll have more confidence in your abilities as a runner (10,000 feet isn't a trivial altitude to run at!). You'll see beautiful things and find your perspective softening (I was reminded that there are many many fun things to do in running that have nothing to do with the Boston Marathon).
How am I feeling? Sore quads (Vail Pass), a little tired (but the sleep wasn't too bad considering, and when I got home last night I slept like a rock) and very inspired. I'm hoping my fabulous husband can join this team next year. I certainly owe him. THANK YOU, Dan, for taking care of the kids all weekend so I could do this. (I'll hopefully post some more pictures as my teammates send them out.)
Meanwhile, all of you out there say a prayer for my friend Elizabeth's mom. Elizabeth, thanks to you too! It'll be you next year, flying down Vail Pass behind Jesus.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
We Interrupt Our Regularly Scheduled Training...
So it looks like I'm doing a relay this weekend!
Yeah, I know. Outta the blue for me too.
Here's how it came about: my friend Elizabeth, who is a former co-worker of my husband, Dan, and like us the parent of boy/girl twins, runs this relay every year. (In 2005, I was actually on her team and had a wonderful, magical horizon-expanding time.) She was all set to do it again this year. But her mom has become ill and is in the hospital, and Elizabeth doesn't want to leave her. Another example of how my awesome friends put the really important things first....
Last night she put a plea up on Facebook asking for someone to fill in. I posted how I wish I could. Well, after talking with Dan and my kids' school, it turns out I can. So tonight I'm heading to Breckenridge, where the nearly 200-mile course begins tomorrow at 6 a.m.
I'm in Van A and am Runner 2, which Elizabeth tells me is the third-easiest assignment of the ten. The three legs I'm running look like this:
Leg 2: 3.04 miles, starts at 10,350 feet, gains 444 feet; despite the short length, I think this one will be the hardest; it's on something called Boreas Pass Rd.; says it all!
Leg 12: 8.97 miles, starts at 10,500 feet, but DROPS almost 2,000 feet, to 8700; could be hard on the quads
Leg 22: 2.88 miles, starts at 5840 feet (oxygen!), shows a tiny elevation loss of 56 feet
I can definitely handle the distance (totals a little less than 15 miles), and I know from my last time doing this that it will be an amazingly fun 24 hours. But what I'd like advice on is how to make this so it approximates as closely as possible the 22 miles I have scheduled for my Top of Utah Marathon training this weekend.
Right now I'm leaning toward adding another three to five miles to make it twenty total. This would entail tacking 1.5-2 miles at the end of each leg. Or I could just go for a five-mile run on Saturday after the team finishes. Does anyone out there have an opinion on this?
And while I have no regrets about this, there are some things I know I need to avoid to make this work FOR my training:
1. Sleep deprivation--I can't avoid this completely; it's a 24-hour relay! But I do plan to take naps. Elizabeth has said one of the other team members has lined up a condo, so there should be a place to grab a quality nap at one point. I'll also bring my sleeping bag in case other chances arise. I'm actually more concerned about getting back on track next week. I don't handle sleep loss well and I do have kids, a job etc., plus a church volunteer obligation that I have to get up super early for on Sunday.
2. Injury--that downhill leg....I just need to be careful. And I owned a headlamp at one point, but I'm not sure where it is. Best be looking for that this afternoon! Or expecting to borrow someone's.....
3. Illness--with sleep deprivation comes cold susceptibility. Do me a favor and remind me to wash my hands lots over the next week!
Wow! What an adventure is ahead! ANY advice you can share with me, either in comment form or email (terzahbecker@gmail.com) will be appreciated. I'm psyched to fill in for my friend (and so sorry she's missing such a fun weekend), but I'm also keeping my eyes on the Boston prize and on my marathon in just three weeks.
Back to our regular program for a tempo run update: I ran 10 miles this morning, with 6 at tempo pace. I nailed it! Here's how it broke down:
Mile 1 & 2 (warm-up miles): 12:18 and 9:45 (I start slooooow on these kinds of runs)
Mile 3: 8:23
Mile 4: 8:18
Mile 5: 8:13
Mile 6: 8:13
Mile 7: 8:03
Mile 8: 7:55
Miles 9 & 10 (cool-down miles): 10:02 and 9:22 (I sped up a bit when I should have been slowing down because I was having a bathroom emergency)
Happy about that run. :^)
Yeah, I know. Outta the blue for me too.
Here's how it came about: my friend Elizabeth, who is a former co-worker of my husband, Dan, and like us the parent of boy/girl twins, runs this relay every year. (In 2005, I was actually on her team and had a wonderful, magical horizon-expanding time.) She was all set to do it again this year. But her mom has become ill and is in the hospital, and Elizabeth doesn't want to leave her. Another example of how my awesome friends put the really important things first....
Last night she put a plea up on Facebook asking for someone to fill in. I posted how I wish I could. Well, after talking with Dan and my kids' school, it turns out I can. So tonight I'm heading to Breckenridge, where the nearly 200-mile course begins tomorrow at 6 a.m.
I'm in Van A and am Runner 2, which Elizabeth tells me is the third-easiest assignment of the ten. The three legs I'm running look like this:
Leg 2: 3.04 miles, starts at 10,350 feet, gains 444 feet; despite the short length, I think this one will be the hardest; it's on something called Boreas Pass Rd.; says it all!
Leg 12: 8.97 miles, starts at 10,500 feet, but DROPS almost 2,000 feet, to 8700; could be hard on the quads
Leg 22: 2.88 miles, starts at 5840 feet (oxygen!), shows a tiny elevation loss of 56 feet
I can definitely handle the distance (totals a little less than 15 miles), and I know from my last time doing this that it will be an amazingly fun 24 hours. But what I'd like advice on is how to make this so it approximates as closely as possible the 22 miles I have scheduled for my Top of Utah Marathon training this weekend.
Right now I'm leaning toward adding another three to five miles to make it twenty total. This would entail tacking 1.5-2 miles at the end of each leg. Or I could just go for a five-mile run on Saturday after the team finishes. Does anyone out there have an opinion on this?
And while I have no regrets about this, there are some things I know I need to avoid to make this work FOR my training:
1. Sleep deprivation--I can't avoid this completely; it's a 24-hour relay! But I do plan to take naps. Elizabeth has said one of the other team members has lined up a condo, so there should be a place to grab a quality nap at one point. I'll also bring my sleeping bag in case other chances arise. I'm actually more concerned about getting back on track next week. I don't handle sleep loss well and I do have kids, a job etc., plus a church volunteer obligation that I have to get up super early for on Sunday.
2. Injury--that downhill leg....I just need to be careful. And I owned a headlamp at one point, but I'm not sure where it is. Best be looking for that this afternoon! Or expecting to borrow someone's.....
3. Illness--with sleep deprivation comes cold susceptibility. Do me a favor and remind me to wash my hands lots over the next week!
Wow! What an adventure is ahead! ANY advice you can share with me, either in comment form or email (terzahbecker@gmail.com) will be appreciated. I'm psyched to fill in for my friend (and so sorry she's missing such a fun weekend), but I'm also keeping my eyes on the Boston prize and on my marathon in just three weeks.
Back to our regular program for a tempo run update: I ran 10 miles this morning, with 6 at tempo pace. I nailed it! Here's how it broke down:
Mile 1 & 2 (warm-up miles): 12:18 and 9:45 (I start slooooow on these kinds of runs)
Mile 3: 8:23
Mile 4: 8:18
Mile 5: 8:13
Mile 6: 8:13
Mile 7: 8:03
Mile 8: 7:55
Miles 9 & 10 (cool-down miles): 10:02 and 9:22 (I sped up a bit when I should have been slowing down because I was having a bathroom emergency)
Happy about that run. :^)
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Long Run Lessons
This morning's run was a "medium long run" of 90 minutes. I got it done with little trouble, running 9.2 miles. The mornings are getting later and cooler here (though the days are still friggin' hot--all over 90 lately). I had streetlights with me until just after 6 a.m., where a month ago they were out by 5:45. I also saw lots of other runners, whereas I've been all alone out there for most of the summer. I guess everyone's gearing up for a fall race! It's exciting!
I left the iPod at home. I am getting more comfortable running without it for longer distances, and I like to save it for when it's really needed. This got me thinking about my gear plan for the race in a month. Here are some things I've learned on my long runs the last few weeks:
1. My sunglasses (cheapie plastic ones from Walgreens) start to irritate my ears and pinch my head after about 10 miles. I figure I won't need them for the first part of Top of Utah, though, since it's 18 miles mostly in a canyon and starts early enough that the canyon should be shaded. So I will put them on top of my head (I don't even notice them when they're on my hat) and put them on when we emerge into the sunlight later.
2. A few weeks back I won some Yurbud earphones from Erin at See Mom Run Far (thanks, Erin!). During Sunday's fast finish long run, I wore them for the first time. I have a slight phobia of having things stuck in my ears. It's irrational, left over from childhood when I had lots of ear infections and had painful things done to my ears in an effort to figure out why they kept clogging up, had tubes inserted at age nine and then spent the next four years up to age 13 putting silly putty in my ears to keep water out of them. This is why I've been wearing old-school over-the-ear phones for the last two years (and it's also why I'll never do a triathlon; water in my ears wigs me out, and I'm a weak swimmer because of this).
But like the sunglasses, my old headphones start to bug my ears on long distance runs. Erin swears by her Yurbuds, as do other runners, so I gave them a shot. And they worked great on Sunday. It felt a bit uncomfortable to me to stuff them into my ear canal, but I gritted my teeth and did it. Once they were in I was fine. I don't turn my iPod on until the part of the run or race where I need a little juice, but I inserted the Yurbuds prior to the starting gun and just kept the music off until I was ready to start speeding up. The sound quality was awesome (maybe a little too good for solo runs near busy streets--it was hard to hear the cars), and the buds stayed put. Thumbs up on those for the race!
3. I noticed a lot of runners in the half-marathon I ran on Sunday wearing their Camelbaks and water belts in the race. To me, the beauty of a race is that you don't have to do that. That's what aid stations are for. That said, I've been doing my long runs with a Camelbak that I bought from a co-worker, and it's by far the best hydration solution for me. I hate belts (I feel like a cow with a belt sloshing water on my already wide hips), I'm not organized enough to stash water bottles on a 20-mile route and I don't like hand-held bottles much either, so the Camelbak was my last resort solution. Fortunately it's been perfect.
My unit holds 70 ounces of water and also has pockets for my phone, some fuel (more on that below), money and keys. I fill it with ice and then water ahead of a long one and generally finish most of it before I get home. The hose doesn't bounce too much on my shoulder but is right there when I need it. I won't wear my Camelbak in the marathon, but I'm sure glad I've had it this summer for long runs.
4. For fueling....Cliff Shot Bloks....they are working for me on the run! And a simple breakfast on race morning is a big help. Specifically, plain eggs with salt in some form, plus a bland cereal like Special K, do the trick (no dairy until after the race). After the race, I drink chocolate milk as soon as possible and eat what I can stomach (yogurt, cereal and fruit usually go down well but not much else). I'm not usually hungry for a big meal until several hours later (and then I'm really hungry, usually for fish tacos with extra salsa!).
I'm still having mild poop issues (this morning I had to stop once, and after Sunday's run I had to go straight from the finish line to the Port-a-Jon), but they've eased off a lot when I'm super careful about what I eat the day before a long run (which I wasn't this weekend thanks to a bridge date with my husband Saturday night where spicy Chex mix and chocolate were consumed and my book club meeting last night, where the wine and cheese were available in generous amounts). I did see my doctor about the poop issues and am still waiting for the results of some lab and blood tests. I really doubt they will find anything wrong with me, but it's worth a shot.
I also experimented with salt packets during my 20 miler a week ago. I'm definitely a salty sweater, though I don't know that it's ever been a problem. Eating a salt packet during the 20 miler didn't hurt, though I'm not sure it helped either. I'll bring salt along for this Saturday's 22 miler too. Hmm, maybe the salt thing is why I crave salsa so much when I finally do get hungry post-long-run....
5. Clothing: I've been lucky and have had very little chafing during long runs. For Top of Utah, I'll probably go sleeveless in a navy blue Go Lite top (much as I fear the sight of my un-toned arms in the tortured race photos that are sure to be taken that day), either my Asics capris or my Nike shorts and thin socks. I plan to head to Goodwill to pick up some cheap sweatpants for the chilly pre-dawn wait for the race to start.
I'm still suffering from that nasty blister I got on Sunday, but the neuroma pad seems to be intact in my shoe. I'm not really sure why I got the blister now. The shoes are the same ones I've had for two months, and it wasn't like I was trying out new socks. Should I take the pad out? My neuroma hasn't bothered me in the least since March, but I do fear removing the pad could make it flare up again....
In my mind, I'm already packing my gear for Top of Utah. This is good. Things are starting to gel, in both my body and mind. Part of me wishes I could feel this way forever: healthy, strong, fit, like I could run and run and never stop. I know staying in this happy state is not possible indefinitely (I'm already hearing about colds and infections starting to ping around, and I'm worried they will soon arrive at my library or my kids' school). But the things I can control I'm doing a better job with. Fingers crossed!
Now...off for a pre-work nap... :^)
I left the iPod at home. I am getting more comfortable running without it for longer distances, and I like to save it for when it's really needed. This got me thinking about my gear plan for the race in a month. Here are some things I've learned on my long runs the last few weeks:
1. My sunglasses (cheapie plastic ones from Walgreens) start to irritate my ears and pinch my head after about 10 miles. I figure I won't need them for the first part of Top of Utah, though, since it's 18 miles mostly in a canyon and starts early enough that the canyon should be shaded. So I will put them on top of my head (I don't even notice them when they're on my hat) and put them on when we emerge into the sunlight later.
2. A few weeks back I won some Yurbud earphones from Erin at See Mom Run Far (thanks, Erin!). During Sunday's fast finish long run, I wore them for the first time. I have a slight phobia of having things stuck in my ears. It's irrational, left over from childhood when I had lots of ear infections and had painful things done to my ears in an effort to figure out why they kept clogging up, had tubes inserted at age nine and then spent the next four years up to age 13 putting silly putty in my ears to keep water out of them. This is why I've been wearing old-school over-the-ear phones for the last two years (and it's also why I'll never do a triathlon; water in my ears wigs me out, and I'm a weak swimmer because of this).
But like the sunglasses, my old headphones start to bug my ears on long distance runs. Erin swears by her Yurbuds, as do other runners, so I gave them a shot. And they worked great on Sunday. It felt a bit uncomfortable to me to stuff them into my ear canal, but I gritted my teeth and did it. Once they were in I was fine. I don't turn my iPod on until the part of the run or race where I need a little juice, but I inserted the Yurbuds prior to the starting gun and just kept the music off until I was ready to start speeding up. The sound quality was awesome (maybe a little too good for solo runs near busy streets--it was hard to hear the cars), and the buds stayed put. Thumbs up on those for the race!
3. I noticed a lot of runners in the half-marathon I ran on Sunday wearing their Camelbaks and water belts in the race. To me, the beauty of a race is that you don't have to do that. That's what aid stations are for. That said, I've been doing my long runs with a Camelbak that I bought from a co-worker, and it's by far the best hydration solution for me. I hate belts (I feel like a cow with a belt sloshing water on my already wide hips), I'm not organized enough to stash water bottles on a 20-mile route and I don't like hand-held bottles much either, so the Camelbak was my last resort solution. Fortunately it's been perfect.
My unit holds 70 ounces of water and also has pockets for my phone, some fuel (more on that below), money and keys. I fill it with ice and then water ahead of a long one and generally finish most of it before I get home. The hose doesn't bounce too much on my shoulder but is right there when I need it. I won't wear my Camelbak in the marathon, but I'm sure glad I've had it this summer for long runs.
4. For fueling....Cliff Shot Bloks....they are working for me on the run! And a simple breakfast on race morning is a big help. Specifically, plain eggs with salt in some form, plus a bland cereal like Special K, do the trick (no dairy until after the race). After the race, I drink chocolate milk as soon as possible and eat what I can stomach (yogurt, cereal and fruit usually go down well but not much else). I'm not usually hungry for a big meal until several hours later (and then I'm really hungry, usually for fish tacos with extra salsa!).
I'm still having mild poop issues (this morning I had to stop once, and after Sunday's run I had to go straight from the finish line to the Port-a-Jon), but they've eased off a lot when I'm super careful about what I eat the day before a long run (which I wasn't this weekend thanks to a bridge date with my husband Saturday night where spicy Chex mix and chocolate were consumed and my book club meeting last night, where the wine and cheese were available in generous amounts). I did see my doctor about the poop issues and am still waiting for the results of some lab and blood tests. I really doubt they will find anything wrong with me, but it's worth a shot.
I also experimented with salt packets during my 20 miler a week ago. I'm definitely a salty sweater, though I don't know that it's ever been a problem. Eating a salt packet during the 20 miler didn't hurt, though I'm not sure it helped either. I'll bring salt along for this Saturday's 22 miler too. Hmm, maybe the salt thing is why I crave salsa so much when I finally do get hungry post-long-run....
5. Clothing: I've been lucky and have had very little chafing during long runs. For Top of Utah, I'll probably go sleeveless in a navy blue Go Lite top (much as I fear the sight of my un-toned arms in the tortured race photos that are sure to be taken that day), either my Asics capris or my Nike shorts and thin socks. I plan to head to Goodwill to pick up some cheap sweatpants for the chilly pre-dawn wait for the race to start.
I'm still suffering from that nasty blister I got on Sunday, but the neuroma pad seems to be intact in my shoe. I'm not really sure why I got the blister now. The shoes are the same ones I've had for two months, and it wasn't like I was trying out new socks. Should I take the pad out? My neuroma hasn't bothered me in the least since March, but I do fear removing the pad could make it flare up again....
In my mind, I'm already packing my gear for Top of Utah. This is good. Things are starting to gel, in both my body and mind. Part of me wishes I could feel this way forever: healthy, strong, fit, like I could run and run and never stop. I know staying in this happy state is not possible indefinitely (I'm already hearing about colds and infections starting to ping around, and I'm worried they will soon arrive at my library or my kids' school). But the things I can control I'm doing a better job with. Fingers crossed!
Now...off for a pre-work nap... :^)
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