17 Miles Like a (Crying) Boss

This past Saturday, Sarah and I went out to Ft. Wilderness to do our 17-mile marathon training run.  She's way faster than I am, and I was grateful she was willing to run at my slow-poke pace.  All in all, the run went really well.  The weather was great, so was the conversation, and I'm walking with no major leg issues.

So why bother with a blog post?

I made some stupid mistakes (not) planning for this run, and this is where I document stupid mistakes.  Except stupid relationship mistakes.  No one gets to learn from them but me.  But I digress...

I have to start by saying I started fighting off a cold last Tuesday, and was sick enough Thursday to take Nyquil before bed.  Friday, I made chicken soup for dinner.

Mistake 1: chicken soup and a chunk of bread isn't exactly enough fuel.  I had trouble at a 5K a few months back after a light dinner and not enough breakfast, and actually suspected Friday night that soup for dinner would come back to haunt me.

I also didn't really get a whole heck of a lot of sleep on Friday night, but I think it was plenty to get me through.

Saturday as soon as we set out, I could tell that my lungs weren't at 100%.  I thought I was doing a pretty good job of keeping a slow enough pace, but my first mile was under 13 minutes.  That's been my story in the past few half marathons too.

My plan was to have a Gu every 5 miles, but I only had 2 at the house so I switched that to a handful of Craisins at 3, 9, and 15 and Gu at 6 and 12.  I packed water and a water/gatorade blend.  I carried water in tiny bottles, and drank the gatorade when I got back to the car at 7 and 13.  Had I had a god enough dinner last night and maybe an extra granola bar in the morning, I think I would've been ok.

Our last 4-mile stint was pretty much where my wheels fell off.  By mile 14, I was getting pretty weepy and whiny.  Sarah was amazing about talking non-stop about whatever could get a reaction from me.  I managed to hit most of the intervals, and rallied a little bit in the last mile after she gave me one of her little energy chew things.

So, you know, fuel.  It's still an issue for me, but at least not as bad as the time I almost died in the gym training for the 10-miler!

Also, another "I thought we were past this" problem that came back to haunt me: squished toes!  I've been in "man shoes" for my past four pairs -- one Brooks Glycerin 10, two pairs of Glycerin 11, and I recently moved into a pair of Glycerin 12.  This pair actually a size smaller.  The gal who fitted me said that the smaller size was more appropriate for me, and plus they were out of the size I usually wear.  This is the first time I've run more than five miles straight in the new pair, and they definitely gave me some trouble.  I thought I was getting a "sock wedgie" after eight miles, so I stopped and readjusted.  Five miles later, I had to stop again.  Sarah told me to loosen the laces all the way down, and I did.  About a mile later, I realized my foot felt WAY better.

Sarah said she always ties her shoes looser for long runs, and I've heard that from other people before.  It's never been a concern for me before, because the last few pairs were apparently too big.  So I'm going to assume that loose laces will save me.  The Space Coast Half is two weeks away (minus a day), and I think I'll know after that whether it does the trick.  If not, I'll buy a pair one size bigger and keep these for shorter runs.  I love them - they are light, they hug my feet, and they are basically PSU blue - and I'm not ready to give up on them.

As my RunKeeper rolled over to 17.00 miles, I choked back a sob.  I was overwhelmed by exhaustion, pain, pride, and happiness and just couldn't process it all at once.  Despite the pain - or maybe because of it - I feel good about the marathon.  I pretty much went 10 miles on feet that hurt worse than they have in two years.  If I can mitigate that by half, and can somehow get it to hold off until mile 16 on race day, then I know I'll be able to last.

This marathon thing.  Wow, they weren't kidding when they said it's a mental game.  There's also a major reason this isn't a thing normal people EVER want to do.  I was running (and walking) for 4 hours and 9 minutes straight.  And that's just a training run!  I have 9.2 miles more to add!  And I only have one more long training run (plus a few half marathons) between now and then!

55 days to go...

Man Feet

Today's 8-mile run turned into a 5-mile run/walk followed by a 3 mile hobble.  The blisters came back in force, despite new socks, body glide, and a whole week out of the gym due to an upper-respiratory infection.  I was furious with my feet, in tears more from frustration than pain (but also pain).  I knew the problem was my shoes.  After 5 miles, my feet would swell and my toes were basically curled over each other because there wasn't enough room in the shoe.  And so, everything after mile 5 was an exercise in will power rather than running power.

So we went back to the shoe store.  I brought my shoes (carried them - today was definitely a flip flop day) and got help immediately, despite the store's 20% off sale causing huge crowds.  The guy who helped me measured my foot and immediately noticed that my right foot is wider than the left.  My response: "that explains all the blisters on my right foot!"  He measured me again, cocked his head to the side and asked that question every gal dreams someday she'll hear: "are you opposed to a men's shoe?"

Sigh...I said I'd be willing to give it a shot, secretly hoping that he'd go back and find something pink and sparkly.  Instead, he returned with 2 pairs of Brooks (what I currently have).  The first pair was black and red.  Mostly black.  I put them on and walked the store, grudgingly admitting that they were comfortable.  I tried the second pair, which were gray and bright blue (I told Scott hot pink laces would make them fabulous).  Even these were tighter in the toes than I wanted to go.  So he put me back in the ugly black and red pair and told me to go out and jog a little while on the sidewalk.  I went out and jogged 1/2 block, came back, and accepted my fate.  "The ugly shoes are perfect."  I had plenty of space to spread out my toes, and the rest of the shoe fit my foot perfectly.

Since my left (slightly narrower) foot has barely had any blisters, I am hopeful that the new wider shoe will eventually allow my right foot to heal and I won't have this kind of problem again.

In case you're wondering what sort of damage causes a girl to give up all of her pride and buy the ugliest shoes she's ever seen, I'm including a picture of the bottom of my foot after the jump.  (there's no blood, just callouses and blisters)

What the Eff?

So you know that interview I had on Monday? The one that I wore my brand new super coordinated suit and painful heeled shoes that even now my feet feel as if they were crushed? The one that I woke up early for? The one with someone other than the person that I was supposed to interview with?

It turns out that interview didn't count for anything.

Yeah.

That face you're making? I've been making it for the past 12 hours.

I woke up today to multiple calendar requests on my work e-mail and a voicemail. When I spoke to the secretary to reschedule and asked if it was a do-over from the first interview, she said yes and then got kind of snippy and said "*I'm* the one doing the interviews, and I discussed it with [the guy I interviewed with] and I need to bring you all in again."

If I were interviewing for a position within that immediate work unit, I would have said "no thank you" and moved on. If this was going to be the case, then they should have called us all that day and rescheduled us. I really feel like there's either some sort of power struggle going on, or there's some other untold story, but I'm really not as enthusiastic this time around. And I have yet to hear anything that sounds like an apology for the inconvenience and the emotional roller coaster.

And since the interview is in the same place, and the same major players work there, I decided I needed to get another suit. I got the brown one with the teal shirt that I tried on before. No time to screw around and try on a bunch of stuff, and luckily I had tried on 3/4 of the mall in my last excursion. This time we were in, out, and to Pay Less for a pair of brown shoes in about 40 minutes. I'm not in love with the outfit, but whatever. At this point, I'm just ready for it to be over.

(this time, I will print out a resume though...)

In Other News...

I had rehearsal tonight, rehearsal tomorrow, work Friday and Saturday, and then rehearsals Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and shows Weds, Thurs, and Friday. My throat still hurts. And I have PMS now, which doesn't bode well for next week.

My eyes are just fine. I still wore my glasses on Monday for my "just kidding" interview, but was back in contacts on Tuesday when we went to see WALL-E. I'm still taking them out at night, but I'm fine. The redness is gone. Even Scott has stopped worrying about them!

Speaking of WALL-E, I loved it. The only thing that stopped me from instantly proclaiming it my new Pixar favorite was the fact that that WALL-E had a pet cockroach on Earth. That ate Twinkies. Every time the thing skittered up a wall, I shuddered. Oh - and it got smashed twice and came back to life. See? Pixar understands how roaches just... never... die! Otherwise, I totally loved it. It's definitely in my top 3 with Finding Nemo and Monsters Inc. I'll have to re-evaluate after I've seen it 100 times.

$100 Well Spent

Scott and I hit the outlet mall today. I was in desperate need of new sneakers (the old ones are stained and now holey, leaving me with just the pink hi-tops, which just don't go with capri pants), and was hoping to pick up some more cheap t-shirts from the Old Navy Outlet.

Well, the new sneakers I ended up with were maybe my 6th choice style-wise. I'm still on that pink kick, and these have blue accents instead. But they were the only ones in my size and width. And they are Nike, which has always been ok for me in the past. And they were *gasp* $50! Oy, that's a lot of money. On the bright side, they'll probably last me for 5 years because I never wear them!

And then the unthinkable happened: everything at the O.N. store was 60% off. EVERYTHING MUST GO! Yep - they were clearing out. Luckily, I managed to get some of the solid color fitted tees that I like so much. The choices were pretty picked-over, but I managed to get a new white one, a pinkish-mauve, and a brown v-neck (just like the one I was wearing today). I also got a polo shirt, a tank top, and a pair of casual pants. Grand total: $30. Woo!!! I asked the guy why they were closing, and he said they are turning the outlet store into a regular Old Navy. That's ok with me - they have good sales sometimes too.

After the outlets, we went over to Target and bought a whole bunch of random stuff including Puffs tissues in Halloween boxes, lighter fluid, gum, and a pink dress on clearance for $9! The dress is really really cool. It may not look like it on the hanger, but it's contemporary (which so rarely happens to me - I tend to buy clothes from the Old Navy Outlet!), and so cute and flirty. I thought I could put my white cardigan over it for work, but I tried that on and instantly broke into song, "summer lovin had me a blast, summer lovin happened so fast..." But aside from that, wow! Check out the kick-ass pleats on the bust:

That same pleating repeats at the bottom of the waistband, and the skirt poofs out when I spin around. And in case you were wondering, the dress is more the color of the first picture.

I'll make sure to get a couple of pictures when I wear it the first time (hmm... maybe next week?). Sure, I have to go strapless. Sure, I have fat arms that are better suited for sleeves. But every girl needs to let her inner diva out once in a while. Right?!?

Confession

I hate Crocs. I really think that they are the ugliest, most ridiculous fad of the past decade. Whoever came up with giant multi-colored rubber shoes - and whoever popularized it - should be severely punished.

But yesterday Scott and I were talking online (which is what we do when we're not together) and I ended up on the Crocs website trying to prove a point about how ugly they are. That's when I found these and these and these and even these, and thought they were actually pretty nice.

I'll be off now to dress for the inevitable arrival of the fashion police. I suspect they will take me away for some time to detox my brain.

What Is He Wearing This Time?

Mom asked if I was still going to see Dr. Ponytail. Well, the short answer is yes. The longer answer is "yes, because I would like to go through life showing the inside of my hoo hoo to as few people as possible." Besides, he's really nice. And I love his black scrubs and goofy Converse sneakers.

Well my last office visit was July 3, and the whole office was decked out in red white and blue. And rather than wearing his usual black scrubs, Dr. Ponytail was wearing this ridiculous American flag button-down shirt (like you'd see at a chili cook-off only with the US flag instead of the Texas flag). I mentioned this to Scott, and he asked if the good doctor had flag-pattern Converse to match.

No... not quite...

His Converse sneakers du jour were covered with a $100 bill pattern. I guess the picture of Ben Franklin tied it all together with the holiday?

(I'm sorry for the crappy picture, but this is the ONLY one a google search and a Photobucket search turned up.)

A Jamie Thing

I'm sure everyone out there has things happen to them and they just think, "this could only happen to me!" Right? I'm not the only one, am I? Anyway, this is one example of something I'm sure must have happened to someone else, but I just can't imagine it.

I got a blister on my foot from walking around the mall the other day. I was wearing my green sparkly flip flops, which I don't recall having issues with before, but I haven't worn them for a while. Surprisingly, I managed to catch the blister when it was the size of a pea (or "freaking huge!") and still hadn't popped. Scott had band aids in his car and I was back in business.

Yesterday we were running out the door to get to the dentist and I grabbed one of those little circle band aids and slapped it over my still-intact blister. Fast forward past the trip to the dentist (which took all of 10 minutes), past the trip to Walgreens (for antibiotics - a last-ditch effort to not crack open my tooth), and past lunch at the pizza place (mmm...calzone...). We got back into the car and I discovered the crisis forming on my foot.

The band aid had repositioned itself and the adhesive was now covering the blister. All of it. And it was stuck!

Well, in the process of cutting off all of the bandage that wasn't stuck to my tender skin, I ended up popping the blister. Damn. And since the blister popped, I was no longer able to stick to my original plan of soaking the foot in soapy water. So instead, I spent a half hour continuously wiping the opposite edge of the band aid with a wet and soapy paper towel. Eventually I got all of it off. And it's already starting to heal (but still ugly and tender). I guess I'll be sticking with regular band aids for the duration of this process.

Oh well... anyone want a pair of green sparkly flip flops?

Walk a Mile in Dress Shoes

I don't wear heels. I own heels, but wear them less than once a month. They are "interview shoes," not worth mutilating my feet for on a daily basis. There's a lot of walking potential in my day-to-day work, and it's never a good idea to do that much walking in heels... or in stocking feet.

Anyway, I do still wear dress shoes - ones without laces or thick soles. And that makes things interesting when I decide to go out and walk during my lunch break. I have an hour for lunch, and last night I was dining alone (darn Scott for working!), and decided to go walk around the lot during the second half of my break.

There I was, keeping quite a pace to Pump It! by the Black Eyed Peas, Walk Away by Kelly Clarkson, and some other up-tempo songs (oh how I LOVE this MP3 player!), walking up and down the rows of the parking lot, and the only time I could even tell I was wearing dress shoes was inbetween songs when I could hear the click click click of my shoes on the pavement.

I was out for about 20 minutes, and I have no idea how far I walked, but I'd guess somewhere around 1.2ish miles. How fun! But this morning my feet are a little sore. So I'm going to throw an old pair of sneakers in my trunk so that the next time I get the walking bug I'll be able to go forth and conquer the lot without inflicting permanent damage on my joints.

Anyway, I guess I'm not recommending that anyone walk a mile in my shoes... not even me.