Panama

Another Sunday- 12 miles on the trails.  I ran 30 miles again this week, and it is probably time to up the weekly mileage a little for next week.  My run was an up and down one today- my knees were handling the downhills much better, but my emotions weren't completely on track.  

I thought about my 5k yesterday.  A girl in a skort beat me.  The course was long by about 25-30 seconds or so, the temperature suddenly dropped in the very gray afternoon, and the flags were horizontal due to the horrendous head winds downtown.  It was not a good day to run a 5k.  I was hoping to see some continuing improvement in my running.  After all, I have done my speedwork and have been honest with the intervals.  Mile 1 was fine, and I actually probably went out a little too slow.  But, after seeing all of the people go crazy in the first mile, I really tried to make sure I didn't go out to fast, and I passed a good handful of people at the mile 1 marker.  At about mile 1.5ish, we turned up the hill and into the wind.  I realize there is a girl ahead of me that is wearing shorts over tights (come to find out it was a skort) and I was gaining on her.  But then I wasn't.  It was all I could do to fight the wind.  I got to Riverside Drive, my favorite street for hammering the pace, but I couldn't hammer.  I just put my head down and tried to keep moving forward.  When I realized not only would I not be faster, but I was significantly slower, I tried to stay positive and work on anything- anything at all.  Light on my feet.  Keep the arm swing cadence going.  Anything.  The 3.1 beep went off way before the finish line, and then forever later I was done.  And I noticed that the shorts/tights combo was actually a skort/tights combo, and I could have at least made it a race if I ran even close to what I ran a month ago.  And a year ago she would not have even been close to me.  As it was, though, I had a new PW in hand for 2009.  At least I got a tempo run in, because that is really what the 5k turned out to be for me.  Sweet.  

Thank goodness for Joy, snuggled in her warm car around the corner.  Being the friend that she is, she thought she would pick me up post race for some coffee.  So, Saturday evening coffee club it was.  I begged her to please figure out what I need to do to get my running back.  We talked about our goals for the upcoming season.  And we even talked about breeding-don't ask.  

So, today on my long run I felt mostly frustrated.  I am frustrated my body isn't responding.  I am frustrated that despite doing everything I was asked to do last year, I got slower.  Thank goodness I had a good first Ironman, the redeeming result in a year of poor ones.  I refuse to let 2009 be the same.  In 2007, I knew when I raced that my race would be a good one- at least the best that I could offer.  2008, I never knew what the day would bring when I stepped up to the line.  

I was feeling mighty sorry for myself on my long run.  I am a pathetic runner.  My grandfather is back in the ICU on a ventilator.  So, now I am an old, "never was" runner about to lose her grandfather.  Around mile 9 it turned into- I am an old, pathetic runner about to lose her grandfather that still doesn't have kids and hasn't graduated from school.  It just kept getting worse.  

But then- Panama came on.  You know, Van Halen?  The song you hear at the starting line of Ironman Florida?  If you didn't notice, you really missed out, because it is really awesome getting ready to swim 2.4 miles in the ocean with Panama blaring into your ears.  I immediately felt better.  I finished an Ironman this year- what an accomplishment.  And you know those other goals?  I am going to get there too.  And NO, I am not waiting until I am older to qualify for Boston because the time is easier.  I am not copping out or giving up on my goals.  And, the only person that needs to believe that I can do it is ME.  

Why stop at Panama?  I let it roll over to Poundcake, another awesome Van Halen song.  I looked down at my garmin and realized that I was just a little quicker than my usual very slow pace on the trails.  Things aren't so bad after all.  I got home and cried a little bit in the shower over Pop Pop.  I know the realism of death and I have a lot of acceptance of the situation, (and who knows what will happen in the next week).  I think it would go against nature if a grandkid didn't cry over her Pop Pop, though.         

Out of the shower- I asked Dave.  Is this it?  Am I done as an athlete?  Have I really reached my potential somewhere in the past?  He laughed and said not even close.  He has been trained well, don't you think? :)