For the love of all things holy....if this heat doesn't break...

I spoke with a good friend of mine who has run a marathon before. I joked with her that the next time (if there is a next time) I lose my mind and decide this is a good idea, I will train in the winter for a spring marathon.

She reminded me that she did just that. She trained all winter for the Disney Marathon, which takes place in January. She said that day in Disney was so hot she ended up walking part of that marathon.

I don't think she has any idea what a relief it was to hear her say that. This friend of mine is a true athlete. I look to her as an athletic role model, of sorts. If she had to walk part of the marathon, then it's okay to do that! I no longer feel this insane pressure!

The week is good and hot, but I manage to run the prescribed mileage for the week. I don't think I've taken a hot shower in weeks because it's too damn hot for hot water and cold just feels so good when you have sweated your nipples off of your breasts.

I even planned to start my Saturday run at 6:30 to beat more of the heat and not hold everyone up. Only ten miles. No problem, right?

Sweet Jesus and all his disciples.

I can honestly say I have never sweated through my clothes. Ever. I mean, all the way through. My shorts, my underwear, sports bra, t-shirt. In fact, I was able to wring the sweat out of my t-shirt. It was such an uncomfortable run, I don't even know what else to say.

I knew I could run the ten miles, but at one point I realized that my run is as fast as my walk and what am I doing killing myself? I joked with our walkers that I was keeping pace with them. On any other day, that would be sad. One of them mentioned that today shouldn't be about time, but about getting through the distance. Amen.

So at about mile 8, I walked. What was the difference? In fact, I think when I started to walk, I was able to pick up my pace a bit.

And I have a bone to pick with those folks who don't sweat. What the hell is wrong with you!? How is this even possible? How is it that I look as though I've been in a rainstorm and you are ready for a nice breakfast and a spot of tea? Tell me! I dislike all of you non-sweaters!

Now that I've calmed just a bit, I am ready to put this long run behind me and move to next week. Hey, that's what you have to do. Keep moving along. I've made the commitment and I intend to finish.

Twelve Miles...Can it be done?

After my ten mile debacle, I was understandably nervous. The heat broke a bit but it is still hotter than hell and more humid than anything. I sweat sitting and dread running because of the heat and humidity.

But once I am armed with my Gatorade and towel and get moving, I find my groove and love it.

I have also discovered my new favorite five mile route. There are a few rolling hills in the first 2.5 miles, which may as well be Mt. Everest to me, but then it flattens out on this quiet, quiet street. I saw deer crossing the road! I saw a baby skunk that I managed to avoid. That would certainly have sucked if I got sprayed by a damn skunk in the heat and humidity while I was running.

Saturday arrived and I was ready. It was already humid in the morning. I wasn't sure if I would get through 12, but I was certainly ready to try.

....

I have resigned myself to the fact that if I have to walk some of this marathon because I couldn't run in the heat, so be it. I was exhausted by the end. The heat and sun were killing me. I was going to run out to five and back and then out to one and back since the route from zero to one is shaded and breezy. I got as far as seven miles and talked to the coaches. Ron ran with me - or rather walked with me. It turns out that when the weather is like this, my running is the equivalent of other people's walking. And in this weather, I don't care. It bothered me last year and it bothered me in Africa. It no longer bothers me. I know that when the humidity is lower, I can actually run. I know that my body is able. That is good. But I cannot fight genetics. Nor will I even try.

The coach asked if I could run/walk the last five miles. I said I thought I could. I gave myself permission to walk for .2 miles and then run the other .8 of the mile. I did that for three more miles and called it a day because I thought I might die.

So I ran, sort of, ten miles. And I am happy with that. I will keep doing this and keep trudging along. Cancer doesn't take a break, nor will I!

WTF, with this humidity and heat?!

We were warned by the meteorologists that this week would be incredibly hot and humid. They weren't kidding! We had days when it reached in excess of 90 degrees with a heat index that made it feel over 100.

And I had to run.

Perhaps next time I should train in winter.

This week I have to figure out how to run 3, 5, 3, 3 miles from Monday through Thursday so that I can run ten miles this weekend.

Um, right.

Actually, the runs during the week weren't so bad. I discovered that if I run in the evening, it is cooler and I am able to do it. I was armed with my Gatorade and my towel. I tucked my towel into my shorts. I am sure I looked like an ass, but I didn't care. I had some running to do.

But my company, Wild Mountain Organics, was participating in a show this weekend, so my long run would have to be on Saturday. I ran three days and took Thursday off. Then I tried to run on Friday...in the morning.

STUPID!

My goal was to run out five miles and return. I got to four and thought I better turn around. I could easily add two miles at the end once I recharged at home with more Gatorade.

I turned around and ran another mile. Then I had to stop. My body was overheating! I was rather frightened, actually. I had to walk three more miles back and said, screw the other two.

I was disappointed that I only ran five miles, walked three and abandoned the last two, but it was better than nothing. Or was it? We shall see.

I am very nervous about trying to run 12 next weekend. Egads!

This heat was oppressive! I am lucky I managed to run at all.

And it is only July. What does August bring?

Ooops, Monday...

My friend was in town this week. We went to Toronto on Monday and I missed my three mile run. I was going to add a mile to each of the next days, but decided against it. I don't want to get hurt. I should be okay.

Training went well this week. I love this! I ache and am tired when I am finished, but I am injury free (knock on wood) and enjoy getting out, listening to music and running.

Now I am trying to pay attention to my diet as well. I notice that when I eat like crap, I feel like crap, and my run isn't as good. Summer is the perfect time to concentrate on eating well with all the fresh fruit and vegetables available. And our garden is looking good. We have lettuce and radishes. Yummy!

Even without my three mile Monday run, I am able to muscle through the Saturday eight mile run. I take my bottle of Gatorade with me. I like to sip as I run. The trainer comments that I don't need to bring my own drink because they provide it, but I need it before and after the three mile mark. I need to hydrate and replenish!

Since we were to run eight miles, our run consisted of an out and back to the four mile mark. See how clever we are to figure that out? At mile three, we have beverages and encouragement. And when I had three miles left, I said, hey, only three miles to go.

And I meant it. Only three miles to go and I felt good. Ron, a former Team In Training member and current mentor, was on the run with us. He was encouraging. I told him to try yoga because it helps and he kept encouraging me telling me that no matter how fast I was running, I was still out there making a difference. Sometimes that's all you need.

And Shiela is one of our more seasoned runners. I think she is in her 70's and ran her first marathon when she was in her 60's. She is often on the trail with us. She inspires me. If she can do it, so can I.

I told Ron that my mantra becomes, you can do anything for a mile. He liked that I was able to break it up into smaller increments. He thought that would help.

So far so good.

And I've run eight miles! Woo hoo!

What happens when you follow the schedule?

I am following the schedule to a tee. I will not add/delete miles. I am determined to do this. It also helps that I am actually liking all this running. I thought I would be someone who would get bored because I need to jazz up my workout routine. I didn't think I could run five days a week and be fine with that.

I do toss yoga into the mix. That has helped immeasurably. Each Friday and Sunday I will toss in my Ashtanga yoga practice to maintain my flexibility. This seemed to help last year when I was injured, and I am determined to get through the training injury free so I need to take care of myself.

I am nervous about running seven miles today since I figuratively fell on my face last week trying to run six. But I ran the entire program this week - 2.5, 4.5, 2.5, 3 miles Monday through Thursday - so I should be fine.

And I was. I couldn't believe it! I was exhausted when I was finished, don't get me wrong, but I felt awesome. I was able to run seven without much trouble. And the walkers did not pace me!

I then went to visit my friend who has a cottage on Lake Erie. The water was cold enough to offer incredible relief for my aching legs. I did the run, but I rued the run.

Follow the schedule

Turns out there is a reason they have a schedule. You will not be able to complete the long runs, nor the marathon, if you don't follow the schedule. That two weeks in Africa messed up my training. And this week, recovering from the trip itself and the traveling home, messed everything up. Running six miles should not have been the issue it was.

I ran to the three mile mark with our group. I thought I might die getting to three. My body was screaming for me to stop. I told it (okay, sorta told it) that if it got to mile four, I could walk the last two miles.

It did and I did.

Then I was passed in the last stretch by the two folks training to WALK the marathon.

And I said I would stick to the schedule and make the long runs from now on.

Hey, whatever motivates.

I have returned from Africa!

I returned yesterday from Africa. I thought I might run last night, but after traveling for nearly two days, that didn't seem like a good idea. I haven't run since last week. In fact, it's been a week. And I've only had one long run. I feel behind.

The weather is certainly cooperating with me. It is chilly and I love it! I am not sweating before I've even left my house. Thank the Lord!

I have to run 2 miles today and am ready for it. Looking at my schedule for the week, I realize I should run 4 tomorrow, 2.5 on Wednesday and then 3 on Thursday. Having not run the correct schedule yet, I think I need to modify the workout. I choose to run 2 today, 3 tomorrow, 2 on Wednesday and 3 on Thursday.

There is not a soul on the road as I take one of my usual routes. And I do not need an escort. I may run all by myself! Of course, I had to run out to get a new IPod Shuffle since mine stopped working while I was in Uganda, but I am ready to go.

There are no hecklers. I am in the clear and free of any and all distractions. I also realize why I truly enjoy running. I am able to look around and appreciate my neighborhood. This is so much more important having returned from Africa. I see beautiful houses on my tree-lined street. I also see well manicured lawns and lawns that have grass longer than it should be. I also see fabulous flower gardens and gardens that could use a good weeding. Of course, my garden could use a good weeding.

I listen to my wonderful music and take in the scenery and solitude. Two miles passed in no time.

Ah, running!

Day Five

Godfrey is still sick and I need to run today. I couldn’t yesterday because we couldn’t find him and I could not run with Gerald again. Today, Lindsay, one of the leaders of our group, finds a student for me. She just ran a bit with him and she promised me that he didn’t talk. Sold - you’re hired!

Lindsay also offered to run along for a minute or so to get some pictures for this blog and my fundraising Web site. I agree because I want people to see Africa and me running here. In addition to my escort, Charles, I have about 10 other kids wanting to run as well as another student, Lauren. Lauren ran in high school, so she is quite fast and quite good. After my pictures have been taken, Lauren and I run. Today is 15 minutes our and 15 back. No hills. Several students from the school run with me out of town. Town doesn’t seem so bad today. Either people are getting used to me or they just don’t care. I also think it was a holiday. Perhaps people were doing other things. I don’t know.

Turns out, Charles and his buddies do indeed talk.

“Professor, are you tired?”

“Yes, I am.”

“We should stop.”

“No, I am training. I run when I am tired. That’s what happens.”

A few minutes later…..

“Professor, are you tired?”

“Yes.”

“We should turn around, then.”

“No, I have 4 more minutes before I turn.”

Then we turn. And it continues.

“Professor, are you tired?”

Sweet Jesus, seriously? “Yes.”

Then my escort finds a bicycle and starts riding around me, behind me, in front of me, and then disappears. I am left with Sahid who has borrowed Lindsay’s IPod. He is quiet, running with me enjoying the music. I like him. He gives me space and is quiet. He should run with me again.

Today was incredibly difficult. It was so beastly hot and running in the early evening didn’t help. There were a few times I thought I might not be able to run this relatively short distance. I felt like a wimp. I also didn’t like the constant questions. But I had to say to myself, cancer doesn’t take a day off. If I had leukemia or lymphoma, could I just say, today is much to hot to have cancer? No. So I ran. And I finished. And I stretched. And I complained. And I showered. I felt pretty good.

Day Four

I didn’t get a chance to run this weekend even though I wanted to run on Saturday. I did play football (soccer) with the tots so I got some physical activity. I am trying to find Godfrey, my escort, and he is nowhere to be found. Instead, Young Fred (one of our hosts) asks one of the students, Gerald, to run with me. He is going to run in flip flops even though I asked him if he wanted to find some sneakers. Kids here don’t always have the option of having appropriate shoes to wear. In fact, I think many of them would prefer to be barefoot most of the time.

This should be an easy 2 mile run. I didn’t bring my schedule with me and don’t have access to the internet without wanting to kill myself (I am very impatient when it comes to inefficiency and the internet here is very inefficient. In fact, it is downright unreliable and after dealing with it for 2 years, I have decided I will not and will wait until I return to the States before I check email. People know where I am and I put the “I am in Africa” return email on my work account.). I am going by memory, which is horribly unreliable, but some is better than none. I do know the long runs so I won’t screw that up. But I am still guessing as to the distance. It will be nice to return to a marked path at home. And tree-lined streets.

Kids follow me each day as I run through town and off onto one path or another. I know there is a sizable hill on this path, but I assume that I will turn before I hit it. Oh no. And Gerald does not stop talking. I am not a talker, particularly not here. It is a struggle for me to run let alone try to carry on a conversation. And I am trying to listen to my IPod. I don’t have the volume loud enough that I can’t hear him, but I don’t want to talk!

We start to climb this hill. I am struggling and slow down considerably. Gerald starts to walk next to me, but then I think he feels bad and starts to shuffle. I don’t know which is worse. Luckily, the turn around is not too far up the hill.

Once again, when I turn, the stragglers stop following me. I must run on their route home and they run with me and laugh. Then they walk the rest of the way while I turn around.

“Professor, do you have bananas in America?” Gerald asks.

“Yes.”

“Professor, do you have cows in America?”

“Yes.”

“Professor, do you have chickens in America?”

For the love of all things holy, “yes.”

“Professor, do you have goats in America?”

Please shut up, “yes.”

At this point I am ready to turn and say “shut the hell up,” but I can’t get myself to do that. Not only are the questions inane, they are driving me nuts because they are one after the other and I just want to finish my run in peace. I wish I could run without an escort. And what an escort this is. A 5’5”, 14 year-old. What help will he offer? Again, I could protect him.

I think he is taking his role a bit too seriously, also. He is running so close to me our arms touch. I try to run in front and off to the side, hoping he will run behind me, but he just runs to the side and touches again. I don’t know why I don’t have the heart to tell him to move the hell over. I think he is excited to run with the ‘professor.’

Perhaps his talking and arm nudging made me run faster. I felt pretty good after the run and thankful it is over.

Day Three

Normally our long run is on Saturday, but the weather is milder today and it is actually cooler. I decide I should probably take advantage of this. Keep in mind that cooler is still damn hot but I take what I can get. I am worried that I may not be able to run the entire 50 minutes I believe it should take me to run about 4 miles. I am still determined to do it, but I want to make sure I pay attention to the signals my body is sending me and if I start to overheat, I need to back down, walk or stop. I have my water bottle with grape Propel to help me through.

Godfrey is my escort again. I enjoy running with him because I can wear my IPod and he doesn’t talk to me. I feel rude, but at the same time grateful. I am motivated by my music and the fact that I am training in Africa because I am trying to raise money for and awareness of Leukemia and Lymphoma.

Running through town is painful. I have to keep telling myself to ignore them. They have no idea why I am doing this and I don’t think they would understand anyway. It still bothers me that I am ridiculed as being the fat white girl trying to run and not running very fast. Again, I am not trying to win the marathon; I want to finish.

We had taken this particular route earlier in the day when we went to visit the Wajinja stone - a stone that is known for its spiritual powers. Many Uganda make a pilgrimage to this stone for rituals. It is quite a cool stone and a serene environment. I would love to just hang out there by myself with a picnic basket full of wine and cheese thinking about the world and my place in it.

I had forgotten that there was a mammoth hill on this route. Either that, or I didn’t expect to reach it. Sure enough. It is at the end of my 26 minutes out, but I still have about 2 minutes to get up the beast. It is a struggle. I am sweating and panting - quite tired. I drink my water and try to control my breathing.

Then we can turn around. Going downhill is much, much better. Until a giant truck full of people drives by. They stop and yell to me and to Godfrey. I don’t know what they are saying, but it doesn’t sound nice. In fact, I am scared just a bit. The truck must have 20 people in it and I am alone with a man I could probably take if I had to. I didn’t feel safe.

Turns out they were essentially saying “run faster fat white person.” I asked Godfrey when we returned. He said that they had never seen a white person as big as me trying to run. I asked if my big he meant tall and he said no. It is getting a bit more than frustrating. I have to remind myself yet again why I am doing this and then remember that this is a completely different culture and that this is acceptable here no matter how insulting and demoralizing it would be in the U.S.

I also have to remind myself that I have another week of running in Africa and then I can return to my streets in my hometown where people aren’t going to harass me and I won’t have to run on such extreme conditions.

The truck rumbles past us after I tell Godfrey that I don’t like the truck and that it makes me nervous. He must have told them to move on because they did. Or they had their fill of mocking me.

Back in town, I am starting to feel angry and good, if that makes sense. I am almost at the end of the run. I am still doing fine. I want to pass out and die, but that’s how I usually feel, so I take that as a good sign since I didn’t want to do it sooner. The trust is in town with the same people, it seems, and they turn around. I want to scream something at them, but don’t.

I want to save my energy because I do not want Godfrey to mock me in town as he did the other day. I find a good, upbeat song on my IPod and pick up my pace. It damn near kills me, but I am determined to get through town going at a reasonable pace that should shut everyone up. And I like the challenge.

Of course, once I get out of town, I have to slow to a crawl for the last stretch. And then I am finished. I have run about 4 miles in the heat of Africa and I still feel pretty damn good. I am quite proud of myself. Go me! Perhaps I can do this after all.

Day Two

My plan wasn’t to run consecutive day, but why not? If I can, I should and will. Today a nice breeze is blowing so I think running out 15 minute and back should be fine. We decide on a different route, but it still stars and ends in town. I think that if I listen to my IPod Shuffle, it will help. I don’t speak to Godfrey when I’m running, primarily because I have a hard time running and speaking, so what will it hurt? I hate town. I am getting tired of being ridiculed. I have to keep saying to myself that I am at least doing it and doing it for a good cause otherwise I might curl up into the fetal position and go to my happy place. Not a bad place my happy place. It’s colder there. Kids follow me again giggling and running. After 15 minutes, we turn and lose our children as we did yesterday. Going through town, Godfrey falls in step behind me. I glance around and see that he is walking and looking at those in town. I am embarrassed and a bit upset. I pick up my pace as much as I can and try to get out of town. The not really neon BPS sign can’t come too soon. I stop and stretch. Then I call Godfrey on his walking. He laughs and feels a bit embarrassed himself that he was caught. It’s hard to be mad at him. He is my running partner and protector. But I want to smack him anyway.

Day One

I have no odometer to measure so I must rely on time to gauge my distance. Normally, I run two miles in 12 minutes each, but the heat here is prohibitive so I figure I will do it at 13 minutes/per mile. I am to be accompanied because a Muzungo running attracts attention. We don’t want attention. We also must vary our route each day so people in town don’t try to mug the Muzungo. That would be bad.

Evidently people don’t run as slowly as I do. I am mocked as we run through town. They yell “run faster, faster,” then cackle out a laugh as I pass. I also have a crew of students running with me as we run the 13 minutes out before we turn around. They giggle as they run close enough to my heels to trip me or to get kicked by my large Muzungo size 11 running shoes. I don’t like them behind and beside me but I don’t have the heart to deprive them of the fun of mocking me. I say it’s time to turn and they continue on their way home.

I turn to return to the school. I am hot, sticky and sweaty. Thank God I have my water with Propel in it. My saving grace. And who knew I liked grape? Once again I am mocked through town and Godfrey, the school’s headmaster assigned to ensure my safety, says something in Lugandan. It can’t be complementary. The white sign welcoming folks to BPS is my start and finish and today it is like a beacon signaling that I may stop, catch my breath and stretch. And perhaps curl in a ball and die. Day one, finished.

Corning Wineglass Marathon - October 3, 2010

I am now training for the Wine Glass Marathon in Corning, New York on October 3. Training begins on Memorial Day. I am in Uganda, Africa for the first two weeks so I must train in Africa. I work with several students with a group we founded three years ago - Embrace It Africa. We started as a way to help a small rural community in southern Uganda by offering a government-registered microloan program called the Mikwano Financial Agency, and offering support to the Bethlehem Parents School (BPS) and Orphanage. We continue to grow. For more information, visit our Web site at www.embraceitafrica.org.

Corning, NY Wine Glass Marathon

Hello! Pauline is back and running.
Pauline is still as slow as she ever was, but she doesn't care.
Pauline is not sure why she is writing in the third person and will stop now.

I am back and excited to be running again. You cannot imagine how frustrating it was not to be able to run the marathon I had worked hard for. Granted, I still had quite a distance to go to be ready for that marathon, but I was pretty proud of myself. I now no longer feel as though I might not be able to do it.

The Finger Lakes chapter of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society is not training for the Marine Corp Marathon this year so I will be training for the Corning, NY Wine Glass Marathon.

[As an aside, sometimes when I type marathon - I type marathong. Not sure why nor am I sure what that means. Draw your own conclusions.]

In keeping with the chaos that is often my life, training begins while I am in Africa. Visitors in Africa don't run recreationally, as a rule. People like me don't run unless we are being chased. Of course, I should be thankful that I run more slowly than most. My hosts might mistake it for a brisk walk and not bother worrying about me.

I will have my first two longs runs (4 and 5 miles) on Saturdays that I am in Africa. We shall see if I can do that! I plan to write for this blog while I am there, but won't be able to post until I am home. Internet is sporadic and frustrating and I don't bother with it because it causes me stress.

Check back. I have successfully recovered from my surgery and am back on the run!

Alas, I will try next year....

Hello,
It has been quite some time since I posted anything about my training. Let me explain why....

I struggled with a pinched nerve in my left foot. That settled down and I was pain free.

Then I hurt the hell out of my right foot. It was so bad, it was suspected that I had a stress fracture. After a nuclear diagnostic bone scan, it was decided I did not have a stress fracture. It must be a very bad case of tendinitis.

Then that cleared up and I was able to run.

Hooray!

Then the abdominal pain. This was completely unrelated to running. God only knows why now it decided to be a problem.

The abdominal pain sent me to the emergency room via ambulance. After a CT scan and fabulous pain meds, it was decided that I had a bowel obstruction that required emergency surgery.

About 27 staples and an 8" surgical incision later, it was decided that the only place I am running to is the loo.

The good news is that any funds that I have raised thus far may be transferred to the race next year. And I have every intention of running this race next year.

I ran 12 miles. That was the farthest I had gotten. And that is the most I have ever run. It felt good.

I was told by my surgeon that I am not to run until November 3. I cannot do any sort of ab work until Thanksgiving. I am counting the days.

Tomorrow is three weeks since surgery.

Sunday is the day I am supposed to be running the marathon.

There must be some reason I was not meant to run this year. But I will not give up. I will begin training the minute I can run again.

Perhaps I can train for the Thanksgiving Turkey Trot in Buffalo.

I am injured!

I suppose it had to happen. All of my good luck had to come to an end.

Okay, so I don't believe in good luck.

All of my hard work was paying off.

And then it happened.

I injured myself.

It happened three weeks ago. I was so upset I didn't blog. I know, that defeats the purpose of a blog, in many ways. I don't care. It's my blog and I'll blog or not blog if I want to. And I will bitch or not bitch if I want to. And you will read or not read if you want to. (But I would like you to continue reading.)

I thought it would be a nice change of scenery. I had several meetings on the St. Bonaventure University campus. I thought it would be nice to run on the Allegheny River Trail. This trail is so incredibly scenic - snaking its way alongside the Allegheny River. I love water and love to run near it.

I got to mile 1.5 and felt something off in my heel. At first I thought it was a muscle pull that I could run through. Um, no. I then thought I could walk it off. I walked up to the two mile marker and then turned around. Tried to run and failed. I limped the two miles back to my car.

I got in touch with our coaches and our trainer. I tried to run on it the next day and failed. Then I was to rest it. I missed the 10 mile long run.

Then I missed the 12 mile run and another 10 mile long run.

And many runs in between.

I would try to run while and would get to one mile. Sometimes, on really good days, I would get to three miles. I couldn't break the three mile barrier. I was getting frustrated.

It made me more frustrated when two different podiatrists told me they didn't think anything was wrong and that I could run on it. One thought it was a pinched nerve. Another thought I could work through it. I return to my regular podiatrist in a few weeks for a follow up. Perhaps I need new orthotics.

Perhaps I need a lobotomy.

What possessed me to think I could do this?

Of course, this isn't the kind of thinking I normally do. I am generally optimistic. But it has been three weeks since I have been able to do any sort of substantial running. Thank God I can ride my bike and do yoga so I have some sort of cross-training to count on. Because this running thing isn't working out so well.

Over the weekend I downloaded the map of the race course. I was thrilled! I will get to run by all the major monuments in DC as well as along the Potomac River. I did notice that if you haven't reached mile 19 by a certain time, you will be asked to get on the straggler bus for transport to the end of the race. I guess they have to open the road. The race pace is a 14 minute mile. I am slow, but I can do better than a 14 minute mile.

When I can run.

Now I am more determined. All of my naysaying and pessimism have been tossed away. I am going to finish this race. And I am not going to ride the straggler bus. And I am going to run through our nation's capital proud that I can run at all. And I am going to see all of the leukemia and lymphoma patients and their families cheering us on and I am going to be prompted to go a little faster so that I finish.

And I will finish.

And then yesterday I ran four miles. A small victory, to be sure, but I broke my three mile barrier.

And today I am going to my yoga class because I miss my fellow yogis. And tomorrow I am going to try to run five miles. Five pain free miles.

And then I am going to the Erie County Fair (booth number 149 in the Agricenter) to sell my lotions and lip balms and other products.

And I am going to sweat my breasts right off my chest.

I am going to go faster if it kills me....

Today I have to run three miles. And I am determined to go faster if it kills me.

I figure I can start to pick up the pace on the shorter runs. They won't hurt me.

I run the first mile in 11 minutes 45 seconds. For those keeping track, that's a record for me. Yes, it's still slow, but it's a personal best, so bite me.

I run the second mile in 12 minutes. That's pretty damn good.

The third mile in 12 minutes, 45 seconds. That means that I ran about an average of 12 minutes a mile for the three mile duration.

That's the best I've done! I am so proud of me!

Of course, when I finished, I thought I was going to have a heart attack.

But I did it!

And I also sent my checks off to be counted! Thank you again to everyone who has supported me so far!

The injuries are starting....

I call them injuries, but they are really minor problems. I had to ice my foot yesterday because I felt plantar fasciitis returning. If anyone has ever had this problem, you know you want to nip it in the bud toot sweet. It hurts like a mother........ if left unchecked.

I also have two blisters, one on each foot. I pop those, as instructed. But they still hurt.

Thank God I get to rest today. And rest I do.

Oh Boy!

Eight miles truly kicked my ass. It was such a perfect day for a run. It was cool, there was dew on the ground, and there were enough slugs/snails on the running trail to serve as a parade of sorts. A parade to remind me how pitifully slow I run.

I think there were points in the run in which it could not be said I was running. But I managed to pass all of the snails! Go me!

I also passed two dead snakes and two dead toads/frogs. Oh boy, am I on a roll!

At about the one mile to go mark, I was greeted by one of our coaches. She had been running with another group (a faster group) and wanted to come back to help me get back. We talked while I ran....

...And she walked.

That's right. I was upset when Ellen walked beside me for that brief moment. But I didn't seem to care that Katie was walking next to me. Truth be told, she was not sauntering. She was walking at a pretty good clip, as walking goes. But she was walking.

And I was so damn tired, I just wanted that last mile to end. I did pick it up for the last tenth. For some reason I always find some energy in my reserves. God only knows how.

Katie did keep reassuring me that I was doing fine. I shouldn't worry about running slowly, etc. Thank you for that!

What am I going to do when I have to run ten miles next week?

Rest Day

Thank you to my mom for supporting my cause.

And thank you for this rest day.

I am nervous about running eight miles tomorrow. The seven miles I ran last week represented the longest distance I have ever run. That will grow each week now.

Eight miles. I hope I can do it.