Cat Motivation in the Morning

The one thing harder than to start training for my first marathon, is training after a nasty cold. I feel physically weak, and it does not help with the whole mental attitude either.

I wake in the middle of the night feeling hungry. Apparently dinner is not satisfying enough. It is 1am and I really want to just go back to bed and sleep in.

My alarm goes off at 6am and I try to hit the snooze button. My brain wars between not having enough sleep and finding the motivation to just get out of bed.

My cat makes the decision for me. He nuzzles me for a moment then agilely leaps to the floor. For some reason my body instinctively follows, albeit not as gracefully. Standing beside my warm bed I seriously contemplate diving back in and resetting my alarm clock. Instead I force my feet toward the chair with my laid out winter weather running clothes and mindlessly dress myself as my kitty rubs against my leg looking for his morning breakfast.

I shuffle to the kitchen and grab kitty's food first. He is so demanding. I pull out some Greek yogurt, pumpkin flax granola, and a little honey. Kitty eyes me suspiciously, as if he knows I am dragging and do not want to head out the door.

My hat and mittens are on and I am out the door. It is cold out, but not unbearable. Still dark outside, and a light covering of snow is on the ground. A little traction on the slippery sidewalks I muse. In my revised running plan this run is just a feeler, about two miles. Just enough to see if I am really over this nasty cold.

I take it easy the first half mile or so. At first I am not as self conscious about hocking luggies.

"A mass of mucous and saliva that is forcefully ejected from the mouth onto a person or object. "

Not very ladylike behavior, but I am stuffed up. Pretty sure by body wants to expel that crude in an efficient manner, and it is still dark out. Who is going to catch me?

Until a turn and see an older gentleman coming outside of his house bundled up in a hunting parka. I shrug unapologetically and continue on. If he wants to scold me, he has to catch me. Which may not be as hard as it sounds since I am still fairly sluggish.

A mile out I can feel how the inactivity is affecting my muscles. Even after a short run they are strained. I run around a small block and double back.

I pass the hunting parka man who is now walking down the block. I smile and nod, he just stares impassively. Grumpy.

My pace picks up a bit as my muscles warm. Still strained, but feels lighter too. They need the release after a sleepless night. Sprinting the final stretch I stop my watch and am amazed my pace was clocked at 6'44/mi those last few meters. There is still some energy in the tank. That is good news.

Overall, I run 2.4 miles in 21:01. A 8'44/mi pace. Not terrible considering I am hocking up more luggies into the snow bank as I enter my kitchen to finish my breakfast and make lunch.

I discover that grilling chicken breasts that have marinated all night is soothing after a short trip outside. Kitty jumps on the counter and eyeballs me, I get some too, right?

Pull out the kitty treat jar and he relaxes. Darn him and his cute little pouty face. But he deserves something, he motivated me to get out of bed after all. He commandeers his prize and runs from the room to terrorize his little kitty sister. I'll sneak her a treat later for putting up with him.

I pour some chocolate milk into a cup. After all, my bed was calling, but I ran instead. Treat for me too.

That time I was on a treadmill

When I go to the gym, it is not uncommon for me to hit the treadmill for a little while beforehand and warm up before starting on my strength training circuit. I say that as if I have this stringent training plan, which I don't, but I do have a nicely compartmentalized regimen that makes me feel slightly more productive with my workouts.

On such a day, I pick out a treadmill, noting the variance of spaces between individuals and machines. Heaven forbid I pick one right next to another person, even though there is one open next to it. You only pick a machine directly next to another person if a) There are no other options, or b) The guy on that machine is so hot you have to be closer in order to ogle him properly. The non-existent, yet very existent rules of the gym are prevalent.

Of course the treadmill that is an acceptable distance from the next gym member, also does not have its television working. In theory, this is probably for the best. Sometimes a reminder to unplug and go al natural is beneficial for this desk bound employee.

I do take the liberty of pulling out the "Whole Living" magazine to peruse through. Inside I stumble upon an article talking about mantras. It lists the usual benefits and reasons behind using a mantra, most of this is self-explanatory. They do quote Kara Goucher and her race mantra:

"I always have a power word that brings me back to my center and focus. For the marathon it is courage. To be courageous to hang in for the long haul, to be courageous to run my own race, to be courageous to believe in myself."

I like this. If I was not so squeamish about tattoos, I would even go so far as have "be courageous" branded onto my arm.

In middle school I had my own mantra when I ran particularly hard (for a 12 year old) workouts:

"If it were easy, everyone would do it."

I would chant this in my head as the coach yelled on to continue with 200m and 400m sprints. It sounds slightly elitist, like "I am so much better than you because you could never complete this workout." When in reality it was my young mind reminding me that I signed up for this gig, and I have to see it through to the end.

But there is no end. I am running on a treadmill more then a decade later still trying to find the right words to give my inner voice. My own mantra.

So while I will not be adding any tattoos to my body any time soon, I think I can borrow Kara's saying, "Be Courageous".

I say all this now, because I am contemplating signing up for my first ever full marathon. I know I can bring myself to take the journey mentally, but I want to believe I can get there physically as well. If I push that submit button, I have a feeling I will be relying upon a lot of internal mantras over the next six months.

The Final Countdown

A little less than 48 hours from the Fox Cities Half Marathon. It is slightly bittersweet because my goal was to run the full marathon this year, but an injury is an injury. Have to treat it with some respect and be thankful everything is healed up.

Nonetheless, the gauntlet has been drawn, and I am ready to get out there. Short training run tonight with my new apprentice and then some weights, and tomorrow off. Excited to check out the expo when I pick up my bib.

"Nothing is impossible, the word itself says ''I'm possible''"

~Audrey Hepburn

powermix :: you gotta be

"you gotta be tough, you gotta be stronger"

Des'ree knew what she was singing about. If this pulls up on my ipod -- yeah, I'm gonna sing to it. Days like today I need that kind of motivation. It was a rest day, only 30 minutes of cross-training. I pumped up my bike tires and took it for a 6.5 mile spin around town. Only stopped once to say "hi" to some friends taking their kids out for a walk.

The hard part for me is that on these light days, I do not walk into the house sweaty and gritty. My muscles are not entirely fatigued after a harsh workout. Sometimes I dread those intense sessions, but most times I crave them.

6.5 miles is not that far to bike. Sure I kept the tempo up for the half hour it took to complete, but it was not the cruel workout that leaves you feeling satisfied with its completion.

It is the kind of workout where "you gotta be wiser" and remember that my muscles need that day for recovery. At the end of the day where I am sitting back after doing some laundry, eating some left over chili--Homer Simpson drool moment--and getting ready to head to bed in anticipation for an early wake up, I need to remind myself to feel good about what I did today.

One step closer to being ready for the September half marathon. One step closer to my personal goal.

P.S. Diary, I need a better bike seat. The one I have kind of hurts my bum.

todays inspiration :: my butt is big

On this Monday I celebrate my squishy bum. Any advertisement that says, "It's a border collie that herds skinny women..." when referring to a well endowed caboose is after my heart.

Today I have eight miles scheduled. I had to split them up due to my work schedule, so the first 4.5 miles happened this morning. Thinking about mapping out a route by the 'Y' for the last 3.5 and throwing in a half hour of swimming to work out the kinks in my body. Maybe hit the whirlpool and relax my muscles. Especially my bum, that little bugger definitely deserves a little TLC.

In celebration of my derrière, not only will I attempt to find as many ways to say butt as possible, but I think a little workout is in order. I firm rump is a happy rump after all.

todays inspiration

My rump stayed glued to the couch pretty much all day. My motivation could be compared to Richard Simmons using a flat iron; neither one was happening. Technically this was suppose to be my rest day during the week, but I don't think it was meant to be that much rest.

Tomorrow is a new day, and I have a light three mile run scheduled. Early bed tonight and early to rise tomorrow and beat the humidity.

To give myself some motivation I will remind myself of my first half marathon where a rather generously sized man passed me in the last mile. He wore a plain white t-shirt and scribbled on the back in black sharpie reminding fellow racers that if he could do it, anyone could do it:

"My half marathon is your half marathon plus 100 lbs"