Monday Wrap Up: The Social Diet

You guys, it's taper time! That time of year when you are insatiably hungry despite running fewer miles per week than you have in 4 months, have phantom pains you're sure are signs of kidney failure, and are thrilled your long run is "only" 16 miles for the week!

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 59. As you might imagine, I was furious to discover this, and it took a lot of restraint not to just run one more damn mile. That's my highest weekly mileage ever, for what it's worth.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: Nil. I thought about having a Buckler NA at dinner on Saturday night, but remembered how, on New Year's Eve, desperately clamoring to have something with which to toast at midnight, TG and I grabbed the last two beers available, which turned out to be Becks NA, which turned out to be awful. Thankfully, it hasn't seemed to have deleterious consequences on our 2014.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: N/A

In the spirit of spring and wedding season and coming to terms with turning 30, some of my girlfriends decided to begin a "Social Diet."  The thinking is that the "social" aspect not only makes each of us more accountable than we would be if the only being who knew we washed down a box of Girl Scout cookies with a bottle of sauvignon blanc were our cats, but that if you engage in a social diet with people with whom you actually do socialize, your social activities may also be healthier. We're a group who loves to catch up over a meal and a couple bottles of wine, so being able to say "hey let's go for a walk instead!" should help with our collective health. Everyone set personal goals for themselves from the start, ranging from weight loss to exercise frequency to experience in the kitchen, and we're tracking our progress against them through Memorial Day (which seems impossibly far away right now). We're all using My Fitness Pal to keep tabs on what we're up to, and sharing it with each other, hence the "social" part. 

From the get-go, I was given a "pass" on participating, because monkeying around with diet and exercise isn't something I can commit to in the throes of marathon season. But, in the spirit of health, and in deference to FOMO, I joined the band wagon. My goals included:

1) Be mindful of what it is I'm eating. I'm absolutely guilty of thinking that if the furnace is hot enough, it'll burn anything. I try to eat a salad a few days a week, but try less to avoid Doritos, Diet Coke, and "dinner" made up entirely of cheese and crackers.

2) Cook more. Honestly, cooking consistently even once per week would constitute "more." But this will help achieve goal numero uno as well. I have yet to find a recipe on Epicurious that involves Diet Dr. Pepper as an ingredient, so chances are, if I'm making it myself, it's going to have ingredients that are better for me.

I was concerned about having SMART goals, because I too have attended professional development workshops and am familiar with workplace jargon, so for those purposes, I'm aiming to track my meals in My Fitness Pal to get a better idea of what I am eating, both in terms of whole foods and on a nutrient level; and cook once per week. Here's what happened in week one:

My Fitness Pal gives you a daily calorie allotment, based on your lifestyle, height, weight, and weight loss goals, if any. For me, that calorie allotment is 1,780. Any exercise you do bumps that number up (this means I double log runs, since I use DailyMile as shown above to track my training). Under absolutely no circumstances would I be able to stick to my calorie allotment without exercise. On Saturday, for example, I consumed 3,200 calories.  My dinner alone was close to that 1,780 number.  That's without alcohol.  Saturday I also ran 21 miles, so I ended up under my calorie goal, but I have no idea how people who don't exercise don't also starve to death.

Pasta, scallops, olive oil, all reasonable choices.  And also, 6 cookies... 

I did manage to cook exactly once last week.  That's not even counting Sunday morning's toast with jam.  So, twice!

Other things I've learned:
- the tomato soup I've had for lunch approximately everyday since Thanksgiving has close to a full day's allotment of sodium in it
- a cupcake from Magnolia Bakery has 400 calories. Each and every one of those calories is delicious
- when I start drinking again, I'm totally screwed

On a more serious note, I think the notion of a social diet can really only work if you're a) doing it with people who are genuinely supportive of one another's goals, and b) a person who doesn't get caught in the comparison trap.  I'm lucky that A is absolutely true in this case, but B is something with which I've struggled before.  It's easy to avoid in this case, because it happens that none of the other participants are currently training for a marathon, but I'll be interested to see how I feel once my race is done, when I'll have no legitimate reason to eat 3200 calories, and no desire to run for 3 hours at a time.  

Ever participate in a "social diet?"  Do you track your food intake?  Do you know the Petit Ecolier cookies, of which I ate 6 on Saturday?  If you do, do you understand why I eat them 6 at a time?

Tuesday Wrap Up: Sober Thoughts

It's happened again. For the next month, the most scandalous intoxicant the pass my lips will be caffeine. And Cadbury Cream Eggs, I guess. Until Boston, I'm off the sauce.

Last week happened to be particularly stressful at work, and I was surprised to find how strongly I craved a beer when I got home after a long day. I'm not in the habit of drinking to forget my problems, but I realized I have come to associate having a beer with unwinding. Drinking is also a pretty big component of most social contracts. People are skeptical if you don't join them in raising your glass, like "can I trust this person?" Even something as seemingly straightforward as figuring out what to have for dinner is, if not impeded, then certainly impacted, by sobriety: ordinarily, I might suggest to TG that we meet for a drink after work to figure out what we want to eat, or that we wait at the bar for a table at a restaurant. But he feels guilty if I watch him have a beer, and neither one of us wants to belly up to the bar and say "Two Diet Cokes, please." And don't even get me started on the relationship between watching sports and alcohol.

Look at all the deep thoughts I have when my judgment isn't clouded by hops!

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 55. I did another set of Yasso 800s on Friday morning, this time running 6x800 at 3:07, 3:08, 3:14, 3:12, 3:10, and 3:10, and while I was super psyched with my performance - particularly my ability to reign in the pace after I started out too fast - I also knew 800s are not kind to quads. Saturday's workout was 10 miles with 4 at GMP, after which I had a sneaking suspicion Sunday's 22 miler was going to be a doozy. But for once, I tried to take the "slow" part of "long, slow distance" to heart, and, what do you know? I didn't feel demoralized and exhausted as I had the week before. It was a real "trust the training" moment for me, to realize that long runs are slow specifically to prevent the type of fatigue of which I'd just been complaining the week before. And it only took me 17 marathons to make that connection.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: A big, fat goose egg. It's been awhile since I've gone dry before a race, but with a lofty goal on a tough course ahead of me, I figured cutting the booze would help me sleep better, eat better, and maybe even drop a couple of pounds. And then last night I had steak-for-two with mashed potatoes and creamed spinach. But I sure slept like a baby!

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: n/a

One week until the taper. Cheers to th- Goddamnit, sobriety ruins everything.

F*%k That Friday: March Madness

Relax, I’m not a terrorist.  Like any good American, I like sports, and REALLY like gambling, so the idea of March Madness is a-okay by me.  Hell, I won my pool last year, and considering the championship game was played the day I returned from Connemara, it sure was nice to have that extra $500 to put towards retail therapy while I recovered from a stress fracture. 

But I’m at a point in my life where I simply cannot handle any more anxiety.  I live in perpetual fear that I’ll be responsible for some catastrophic financial shortcoming at work, I almost talked myself out of speedwork this morning because I was so nervous at the prospect of not hitting my paces, and I burst into tears when Dorito pooped in my bed on Wednesday because it was a sure sign I’m an unfit pet parent.

(For perspective: my most recent work dilemma has been finding 500 gift bags large enough to fit bottles of shampoo, I nailed my 800s at the track, and Dorito does hate me, but that’s because he’s a cat and they are spiteful little beasts regardless of who their pet parents are.  My life is not so bad.)

I love filling out my March Madness bracket every year, carefully considering each school based on records, injuries, coaches, and whether or not I have an ex-boyfriend who went there, and I’m happy to fork over $20 with the hope that it is returned in spades.  But holy shit, once the games start, I cannot handle the anxiety.  Under any other circumstance, I give zero fucks about whether or not St. Joe’s beats Uconn, but during March Madness, it’s as though my life depended on it (good thing my life didn’t actually depend on that one…).  I had never even heard of Creighton until this season, but I have them in the Elite 8.  DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH PRESSURE THAT IS?  Can I really be expected to take on the same tasks as the President of the United States?! (We have the same Final Four, and I filled my bracket out a day before he did, for the record.).

#Izzoforlife.  I actually don't have them winning.  Don't tell my brother-in-law. Or the president.

Could I have abstained from participating in a pool this year, and continued to watch college basketball for the love of the game?  Of course not, because I don't love college basketball, I love the NFL, and since I can't watch that for another 5 months, I might as well do something to make college basketball interesting.  But I'm not happy about it.  March Madness?  F*%k That!

Monday Wrap Up: On Consistency

This season, I've really been struggling with consistency.  I'll have a crazy-intense week of successful training, banging out speed work and long runs and putting up big (for me) mileage numbers one week, only to fall of the wagon the next.  And while some semblance of "on-off" is how training plans are made, that's not what I'm intentionally striving for.

Consistency didn't use to be a problem for me at all, but one of the handy things about having a blog is that you can look back at past seasons, and when I did, I realized this has been something I've struggled with for several seasons now.  After all, people don't wind up with stress fractures when they've been training consistently.  For both Boston 2014 and Hamptons 2013 (aka the great crash-and-burn), I've switched to a new training plan, and if I'm being honest, it is too aggressive for where I am, not just physically, but in regards to where I am in my life. 6 days of running, up to 60 miles a week isn't sustainable for me right now. But instead of doing what is sustainable (up to 50 miles, 5 runs a week), I burn out after one week, take a week to recover, and repeat the cycle ad nauseam.

But it's not just physical exhaustion, as I said.  I mean, yes, I'm tired on Sunday night and Monday mornings after my long runs, but by Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, I'm physically capable of quality workouts.  So then, it's also my motivation, and whatever else is in my brain, that's diminished, and for me, that's what's taking longer to be replenished.  And with two hard weeks to go before the taper, I want to figure out how to address that ASAP.

I got to TG's for dinner last night, frustrated with how drained I was feeling after my long run, both physically and otherwise, and we got to talking about why that might be. He pointed out that went out 6 nights last week.  That's not to say we were pounding beers all week, but we were out, awake past bedtime, which makes waking up to run in the dark all the more difficult.  Moreover, as TG pointed out, even if you get home at a reasonable hour, aren't drinking your face off, etc etc, just going out and being social amps you up, and requires you to be "on," draining your emotional battery.  Handsome AND smart, that one.

Page over at Twenty-Six and Then Some wrote a post recently about a holistic approach to training, one that incorporates structural, chemical, and mental health and fitness.  Like Page, I need to remember that that third piece is just as important as the first two.  

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 32.  I've run 20+ miles for the last 4 Sundays (which also could explain my fatigue).  For 3 of those runs, my stomach gave me terrible trouble throughout, so for yesterday's run, I decided NOT to eat my traditional toast with peanut butter, and went with a bagel.  I had no issues during the run, which is devastating, because peanut butter is basically a staple of the runner diet.  I did still have plenty of stomach ish following my run, so maybe next week I'll have oatmeal. 

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: 15.  4 of those were in Abbe and Baker's apartment, but only 3 were with Abbe and Baker.  I'm tasked with checking up on their cat friend this week, and so I did so on Saturday.  Only I locked myself in the apartment, and had to drink their beers while I waited for my friend Ryan to get me out.  It was a survival situation, really.

I ran there, so I was sweaty. Long haired cats and sweat don't mix.

Percentage of Runs Last Week During Which I Got a Bloody Nose: 67.  That was weird.  That red line under my right eye in the photo above is actually remnants of my bloody nose.  You're welcome.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: Yuengling, Negra Modelo, Bud Light, Guinness, Bell's Midwestern Pale Ale, Bell's Oarsman Ale (this is vile), and Snapperhead IPA

Thursday Wrap Up: Better Late Than Never

I was going to write this on Sunday night and it was going to be all about how last week everything came together and I felt like such a bad ass and was in a really great place with training and ready to kick ass for these final 6 weeks!  And then daylight savings hit and now it’s dark again until after 7:30am, which makes getting out of bed all but impossible, so this week hasn’t been the greatest.  But first, last week.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 54.  My first 50+ mile week of the year, and so many of those miles were really quality workouts!  I was psyched with my Yasso 800s performance, and followed that up with a 10 mile Goal Marathon Pace run on Saturday afternoon.  As it turns out, it was supposed to be 10 easy miles, according to Training Peaks, but I struggle with memory and reading comprehension, so I ran it at an average pace of 7:22.  And felt it.  Sunday’s 22 miles were unpleasant as a result, but in the “this sucked but I did it and that counts for something” kind of way.  Also, I do not recommend running 22 miles entirely in Central Park.

I ran those red lines two or three times each.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: I have no idea, last week was like 11 days ago at this point.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: Smuttynose Old Brown Dog Ale, Bronx Pale Ale, Magic Hat Elder Betty (wishful thinking with the warm weather over the weekend…), Founders Pale Ale, Kodiak Brown Ale, and probably Bud Lights.

Number of Nephews Born Last Week:  1. His name is Bruce, and I love him.  But there are creeps on the internet, so you don’t get to see him. Trust me when I tell you he’s stinking adorable.

Instead of Bruce, here is me, toasting Bruce.

As for this week, today is Thursday, and it’s the first time I’ve run.  Which is a shame, since on Tuesday and Wednesday, it was 60 degrees.  This morning, it was 17 degrees, with 25mph winds.  Incidently, this morning was also the first time my Garmin 10 failed to find satellites, which was a neat trick to play on me while I stood in a cold, windy, dark alley alone at 6:30 in the morning.  I ended up using it in the (world’s most expensive) stopwatch mode.  Luckily, having spent 22 miles on foot in the Park on Sunday, I’m quite confident in my mileage estimations.

The Icy Ring of Doom

This morning, I headed to the East 8^th Street track to run 800s, my first track workout of the season.  I hit a few bumps along the way.  First, it didn't seem that my Garmin 10 had the capacity to track laps that were not miles (it does – go to Run Options -> Laps -> Lap key).  Then once I got to the track and took my customary lap to look for puddles, potholes, and other obstacles, I realized that the inside, oh, 5 lanes of the first turn were totally iced over.  Enterprising athletes had worn a singletrack path through the ice in lane 6, however, and it seemed like, if I were careful, I could still reasonably complete 800s if I made them more like 810s.  Close enough.

I've been making a concerted effort not to work myself into too much of a panic over my workouts this season, and it’s worked out pretty well.  Last weekend, for example, instead of carefully monitoring my food intake and getting to bed early only to toss and turn, thinking “oh my God, 20 miles is so far, it’s going to take forever, what if I can’t do it?,” I drank 6 beers, went to bed at midnight, and set off on my run without having gone to the bathroom (that last part I can’t recommend, truthfully, but otherwise the system worked well).  I tried to harness the same carefree mindset this morning, and when I toed the line for my first 800, I thought “just run and see what happens.”

And without a tremendous amount of pain or a visit to the puke threshold, 3:13 was what happened.  I recovered for 400 and tried again, repeating my track mantra in my head, because I am a supreme loser (“Long. Tall. Smooth. Strong.”  Mostly I use it for the rhythm, not the words, which means that occasionally I’ll catch myself repeating “Long. Slow. Smooth. Strong.” over and over, which isn't the most motivating mantra for speed work.)  3:14. And again.  3:16.

I was feeling pretty tired, but determined not to fall off the wagon for the fourth and final 800.  I hit the line and took off, when I was quickly confronted with a jogger ahead of me going in the same direction, and a walker coming towards me.  And a singletrack path surrounded by ice.  Sucking in to make yourself as narrow as possible while also breathing hard enough to sustain the effort of running 800s is no easy feat, but somehow I was able to squeeze by the jogger just as the walker stepped to one side to let me pass.  It was like pairs ice dancing, but a threesome, with one participant being a short, overweight man in a grey sweatsuit.  That I did not fall on my ass while dodging these people is a miracle, and even if I’d ran a 10 minute final 800, I would have deemed it a success.  But I didn't.  I ran a 3:12, the fastest of the four.

So, day one at the track is complete, my splits were right on target, and I don’t have any new injuries to show for it.  That said, there is a reason why track & field is a Summer Olympic sport.

I know I should commiserate, but this makes me laugh every single time.

Monday Wrap Up: Always on the Move

As you may have noticed, I travel kind of a lot.  Between work trips and personal travel, I’ve been out of town 4 of the last 5 weekends.  This has had a couple of implications on my training.  Some of them aren’t great:

•           I’m tired. I met my dad for breakfast on Friday before I skipped town, and he told me I looked the most tired I have ever looked.  And that’s with the recent addition to my skin care regimen of anti-aging rohypnol .  Or retinol.  Whichever isn’t the date rape drug.
•           I don’t do my laundry promptly.  Or more accurately, the man who does my laundry doesn’t do it promptly.  I’ve been out of town so often that I only have occasion to drop off my laundry every two weeks.  This has resulted in some questionable fashion choices, and also a $25 bill for wash and fold the last time I picked it up.
•           My hip hurts.  I have every confidence my recent hip pain is as a result of sitting in a car/plane with such regularity.
•           I skip runs.  I’m way better about getting my runs in when I’m traveling for business, but on personal trips, it’s hard to say “I’m so glad I came to visit you/decided to go on a trip with you!  Now I’m going to leave to go run.”   

That said, travel isn’t entirely detrimental to my training.  In the past 5 weeks, I’ve gotten to explore Chicago, Atlanta, New Hampshire, and Virginia by foot, which rules.  In fact, yesterday’s 20 miler on the Washington and Old Dominion Trail in Northern Virginia may have been my best 20 miler ever (aside from the part where I nearly impaled my ass cheeks on a rose bush when I ducked off the trail to go to the bathroom at mile 16).

For this run, I ran the first 5 miles very easy and then thought to myself “well you would spend less time away from the friends you’re here visiting if you ran faster.”  So I did.  I aimed to increase my speed about 20 seconds per mile for the next 5 miles, and another 20 seconds for the 5 miles after that, and then cool down for the last 5 miles.  Here’s what happened:

 

Not perfect, but I’m quite pleased with the results, and I had a ton of gas left in the tank (hence the GMP final mile).  My hip felt fine throughout, and while I spent my Sunday night eating pizza in sweatpants with my cat while talking shit about celebrities’ poor Oscar fashion choices, I felt slightly less pathetic than that sounds for having gotten such a great run in.

Best of all, I have no more trips planned until Boston.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 40.  I nixed speedwork last week to give my hip a chance to recover. 

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: 14.

Types of Beers Consumed: Bell’s Smitten Gold Rye Ale, Brooklyn Lager, Miller Lite, Yuengling, Goose Island 312, Schneider Weisse, Sapporo, and Asahi.  So multicultural!