I do it, and I do it big. Here's to not forgetting about it.

Posts tagged ‘Training’

Sweetly Sucking

I apologize if the title offends your sensibilities, but what is going to follow isn’t dirty. Unless you are the type to think that a sorry run is dirty. Then this is definitely NSFW.

I told y’all yesterday that I was going to run today. I had a conference session to attend at 7 am (okay fine, the session was breakfast, but it IS the most important meal session of the day) and would have had to be hitting the pavement by 5 to make it, in the dark, in an unfamiliar area. Nope. I bid my running shoes farewell until 6 PM.

As I was lacing up, I was tempering my expectations for the following reasons:

A. I am typically a morning runner on fresh feet.

B. The weather is starting to warm-up.

C. PMS is definitely not an acronym for Peak Maximum Speed.

I had run the same “day” on my app 10 days ago. I figured it wouldn’t be as good for the above listed reasons. Lemme tell you something. I was right. Damn right. My pace kept slowing, and slowing, and sloooowwwing. I checked my watch and you know how it goes. When you end up looking down and only one minute has passed since you last checked? Tough day.

A tough day is not a bad day! I showed up. I didn’t quit, even though I passed my hotel room with 20 minutes to go. I did take a walk break of about 30 seconds but I dug deep and ran faster when my app calmly asked. I stretched like a champ afterward.

Loving the journey, even when it sucks, is sweet!


How Joanie got her groove back

It’s Saturday and I skipped my weigh-in. First skip of 2018. Rut roh.

I was recently having a venting fest with a good friend and she was lamenting that it was difficult for her to get motivated to take healthful steps in her life. I opined that I think momentum often brings about motivation and not the reverse and am currently experiencing that phenomenon myself. You know whose fault it is? My Grandma. And husband. And the school district.

1. Grandma’s birthday party


2. Wedding anniversary


3. Spring Break

I suppose that the term “Spring Break” isn’t short for “Spring Break from your meal plan” but it may as well be, amirite?

Understanding the problem here is key, y’all –

There. Is. No. Problem.

It is tempting to view these things as interruptions, but all of them are wonderful. Celebrating my Grandma’s long life (and may God bless her with many more!), my short (thus far) marriage, and an entirely too short break from y’alls children are all blessings. However, with the break in my routine has come a break in my momentum. Without the momentum, it is difficult to adjust my vision to see all the good things happening, and thus I become unmotivated. Even after only a week, getting back into my groove feels like a heavy lift.

I am proud of myself. I ran yesterday and have a work out planned for today. I’m at a conference and I have brought meals with me. I promise to report my weight next Saturday because I want to monitor my progress wholly. I don’t expect any loss until the end of the month because of where I am in my cycle, but I am determined to love myself and celebrate making good choices for my body.

My not always steady beat is groovy again. Thanks be to God.

Faith on the Run: Pre-Race Report

I have a 5k tomorrow! While I am confident I can complete the distance, I don’t know how I will feel while doing it or how my time will be.

This feeling is absolutely exhilarating.

2018 has been a year to reset thus far. I am humbled to have been able to find a rhythm with work and working out by using a meal planning service. I am finally making visible progress with my trainer and working out on my own in the mornings again. I know that this could change at any time, but while I have this I know it is something to be cherished. I started Couch to 5k again and completed 7 of the 8 weeks, and have only ‘come up short’ because my trainer suggested that I rest my ankle this week because I will not really progress prior to the race.

I am most happy because this year feels very much like the beginning of my running journey in 2013. At the time, I started with a pair of old sneakers in my closet and nothing but my app – no Garmin, no fancy shoes fitted for my running gait – I was just a girl who only ran after ice cream trucks and away from large dogs trying to lose weight. I have worked hard to simply do my best and not obsess over beating previous times and/or intervals, and am blessed to report that upon looking at the data, I appear to be improving without driving myself nuts.

I love that the anticipation of each training run has inspired both excitement and apprehension. The ability to put one foot in front of the other is a gift to be celebrated. Only the Lord knows how much longer I will have not just the ability to run, but to improve. I want so much to be a good steward of my blessings.

God built us to move forward, both literally and spiritually toward Him. The last 32.5 years have been a bit of a zig zag pattern for me, but tomorrow, I get to lace up and enjoy another new beginning, and Lord willing, another triumphant finish.

Pay to Play: Race Report

I don’t know about y’all, but there are times when I simply cannot persuade myself to make time to run. I make all sorts of excuses – fatigue won’t allow me to do my best, or I could be spending time with those family people or working, etc. So I did what any girl on a Friday would do to get my feet back on the pavement. Registered for a 5k scheduled for Saturday. 

I prepared myself quickly and quietly so as not to wake Lil One or Adonis. The race site was a nearby familiar one – I did most of my marathon training around this particular lake. Knowing that my race registration would help to benefit victims of human trafficking was even more motivating to me. It is funny how we get wrapped up in these questions about our value and self-worth, taking for granted the freedom we have to be able to spend even one moment to reflect, when there are so many who lack just that – freedom. I told myself that when the horn went off, I was going to run for anyone who can’t. No time for self-pity OR self-flaggelation! 

I really was not sure what it meant to pace myself when it started; rather, I didn’t know what it would look like today. My marathon pace was 13:26 and I have a tough time with perspective – sometimes a 13 minute pace feels like a 9 minute pace and I’m just slow no matter what, you know? Gahhhh! Focus! Just. Run. 

And so I did. I would be lying if I told you I didn’t look at my Garmin, but it WAS a race and I did want to do my best by maintaining whatever pace I could. When I got tired, I thought of the freedom I had to be there that morning. As I turned toward the finish, I lamented that the course appeared to be .1m short, but no matter. I went and I did it AND my pace was 10:14! 

Who. Is. This. 

The only explanation I have for such a speedy performance is the fact that I’ve been getting sufficient sleep and eating very cleanly, because the only runs I’ve been doing have been with the girls training for their first 5k or with Adonis, running and walking for our half-marathon relay. Lesson: problems can be solved by clean eating, sleep, and money! 

Who am I? Race Report

E Major

That’s the key of my alarm that went off in its futile attempt to wake me at 4:30 this morning. 

E Major, but louder. 

I groaned. 4:39. ‘I’m not ready for this race…’ I shut off the alarm. 

My thoughts.

Decidedly louder and less harmonious than my alarm, my thoughts of potential regret are what finally got me out of bed at 4:45. Well, that and Adonis pounding on my door. My fabulous future hubs made me breakfast as I prepared for the half-marathon ahead of me. 

Though I was armed with my bib holder and best running lipstick, I was plagued with doubt. My longest continuous run in my current training cycle was 8.5 miles. I was worried about both my mental and physical stamina. In my previous post I wrote regarding my grand expectations for this race. Knowing how far I have fallen from my 2014 peak kinda bums me out. I hadn’t run a half-marathon since the last leg of my half-ironman. My piano teacher always told me that the reason for practicing is not just for skill building but for building confidence. The guilt that comes with not practicing is enough to sap the most talented of confidence. 

As I walked to get my bib, I stared at the finish line. My eyes started to tear. The half-marathon distance has always moved me. I know that I cannot take any of the approximately 30,000 steps that are between me and a finisher’s medal alone. Though on my feet, I am forced to my proverbial knees in a way that I don’t so tangibly feel for shorter distances. 

I took in the crowd. I overheard conversations between other runners. “I’m running with the 1:40 pacer!” Heh. I was trying to decide what a reasonable goal was for me. “Beat the balloon lady?” I thought to myself. I had been thinking this week that considering how underprepared I am I should be happy with 3 hours or less. I searched for the 3 hour pacer. “13:43 min mile,” his sign read. I figured I would be safe but I was not sure if I would be bored. I saw the 2:45 pacer. “12:35.” I walked over to him and told him I wanted to run with him. He smiled and recommended that I keep him in my “rearview mirror” to ensure that I finish in a time I wanted. 

I took a selfie at the starting line and made a face in an attempt to reflect my emotions… 

 I think that captured my Jessie Spano-like state of split emotions. I mean, I did have the morbid curiosity to show up today. Could be fun. 

The horn went off, and off I went. It was good to be moving in the cold weather. I checked my watch. “11:30.” I turned to see if Billy the Pacer was in my rearview mirror. BTP was sho ’nuff in my blind spot! What the hell?! Forever the good student, I sped up. I wasn’t feeling as drained as I thought I might. Yes, I know I still had 13 of 13.1 miles to go. I smiled as we made our first turn. I felt my calves greet me hello. It is here that I am making a public service announcement for all pensive runners – do NOT reflect on the meaning of life before a race instead of warming up. Do them at the same time. I shrugged and kept going. 

I observed the people around me. BTP was talking to a chick who was running her first half. A man was running in memory of a 15 year old who died last month. Some old dude left me in the dust. I grinned. I was moving forward. 

I greeted new people I would encounter. “Good morning!” “You seem happy,” one man responded. “I am!” I said. “I’m alive.” And it was true. Had I had the breath, I would have elaborated that I was alive and could run. My brain had clicked into performance mode and I was freely running without analyzing my preparation or thinking of what would come after the finish. Not even second breakfast was on my mind as I made my way through 13.1 miles. All I was thinking of was the moment, of my current journey, of the blessing of this particular experience. 

I reached mile 7. I thought to myself, “Great! I can do that again.” My knees were angry. At the perfect time, I read a sign that read, “Pain is temporary. Pride is forever.” Race volunteers are a big deal. I thanked God and I thanked the volunteers as I passed them. I checked for BTP. I lost him. Whoops. I shrugged. I ran some more. 

By mile 10, I was starting to warm up. I removed my hat. 10.5 – removed my gloves. 11.5 – damn. I really don’t feel like removing my jacket but it’s hot now. I removed my watch and phone from my sleeve, grabbed both by my teeth, and tried to simultaneously run and disrobe. Almost landed on my face. My youthful lack of wisdom was compensated by my youthful balance. Winning. 

Once I looked at my watch again, I thought to myself, heh. Positive splits. Who cares. I’m a positive girl. This finish line is happening today. No Monday morning quarterbacking until tomorrow. I smiled and waved for the race paparazzi. I turned the final corner and saw Mom, who ran with me to the finish line. 

I want to say that I don’t think I could be more proud of myself than I am. I am not worried about anyone who would shudder at the thought of being proud of a 2:41:01 finish time. I fear that someone could read about my concrete goal for the day and think, “Shut up! I would be lucky to finish with the balloon lady. Or finish at all.” I think it is important to note that awesome is relative. I gave 100% today. My goal, in time, is to make MY 100% better. I can’t do anyone else’s 100% because I am Joan. I can’t be anyone else, and it is good to have a day where I am thankful that I am no one else. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. 

That’s who I am. 

Just put tape on it 

I missed a workout tonight, and I’m only sorry I missed it because I have to make it up tomorrow. It turns out if I want to run faster, I have to run faster. As much as I’d like to run from the facts (heh), there are people in my life who will not let me. 

I wish I wanted to do all my training. In fact, lately, I find myself not wanting to do much, training only because I know I must. I don’t even find the wedding dress business to be sufficient motivation. Why can’t I be more like 3M (pictured above), who has a solution – a way of mending or taping any problem – for everything? Even when she b*****s it’s oozing with potential and positivity! She knows it’s going to be hard and she is still excited about it. Many can be envious of her speed, including me, but if I could take anything of hers it would be her enthusiasm. Is there an enthusiasm workshop somewhere? Gah. I hear Blonde Oprah’s high-pitched voice but I can’t make out what it’s saying.

I don’t just want to train and get better! I want to like it! 

The During The Race Report

The race started 2 minutes ago, and I’m not sure how it’s going. 

“Lady J,” you say. “I have so many questions.” Hit me. 

1. I know you aren’t obsessed with fast finish times, but um – isn’t blogging during a race unorthodox, even for you? 


2. So – isn’t this slowing you down? And how could you not know how your race is going? 

Breaking news: the race is going well! Check out my Superman! 

 That’s right, y’all. Adonis is running the first half of our ten mile relay! Just like I tell my babies – I need you to read carefully. I never said I started the race. He seemed to be in good spirits a mile and change into the race. 

In about half an hour, Captain America (that’s me!) will take over for the second half. I’m nervous because my left Achilles is really bugging me today AND I’m getting a wish fulfilled today! When I first started running, I wished to myself that I would do a relay with the man I was going to marry and he would be waiting for me at the finish line, just like he will be at the altar! So I’ve got all kinds of mariposas in my tummy as I wait for him. 

*puts phone away to finish blogging later* 

Mommy got a picture of me waiting to high five Superman…

and the exchange! 

Off I went! 

My goal was to maintain an 11 minute mile pace. I set my watch to yell at me if I went outside 10:30 or 11:30. I also monitored my HR, as I was hoping that it wouldn’t skyrocket as it had during the 10k last month. I now know my cussing threshold is 180, so I was trying to keep everything at 175 or below. I walked through the water stops and that seemed to help. 

I am pleased to report that I finished maintaining a 10:58 pace and my max HR was 180! My average was 169, which was down from 176 for an 11:44 10k pace just a month ago! I suppose there was no cussing on this course because by the time I hit 180 I could see the finish line, where Adonis was waiting for me…

By the way, he’s still a jackass. He has run exactly two times in the last month, has never run more than a 5k until today, and it took him just 5 more minutes than I did to finish his leg. I suppose I shall let him off the hook since he helped to fulfill his sappy fiancée’s dreams the way he usually does! Jerk. 💞

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