We're doing more than running here.

In the weeks post Masochist I've been shifting back and forth between no desire at all to run and some of the best, most fulfilling runs I've had all year. I can't really say I've been 'training', it's more of just surviving but occasionally it still gets the best of me.

Two weeks after Masochist I went to Richmond with my sister, Erin, to partake in her first marathon experience. I took her out too fast in retrospect in my first attempt at crewing and pacing but did my best to encourage her through to the end. The pounding of pavement and the rain did a wonder on my feet but the experience was worth the torment, I learned a lot about myself and learned at least a thing or two about those of us who 'race' even if our only prize is an intangible reward.

Burnout Approaching

The following Wednesday we had a great turnout for our weekly group trail run. And yet it was at the conclusion of this run, perhaps because I still couldn't catch Brenton, Todd and Sam for the second week in a row, that I realized that maybe I don't really work hard enough, that I only put in as much as I absolutely need to most of the time. Later in the week Todd told me I was a 'sandbagger' and that my training was pathetic, he didn't use that particular word rather he used a whole slew of them, but the meaning was the same. So on Saturday when we went to the Hellgate training run I tried to push a little harder from the start, by the time we had reached Camping Gap I was growing tired, by the end of the run I had experienced my first bonk in months. The cruel thoughts returned, why do I even run long distance, do I even really know? The thought depressed me a tad and instead of changing my ways or getting serious I decided it was time to switch to Taper mode for Hellgate. Not a logical step perhaps but it's where I ended nonetheless.

Giblet Jog

Thursday, Thanksgiving Day, we went to Altavista so that Bailey could run her first 5k. The steps that got us there were a mix of procrastination, price increases, lack of drive, guilt and permission. I waited too long to sign up for the Turkey Trot, the prices increased and I decided that I really didn't feel much like running fast even for a 5k but Bailey had wanted to do the Turkey Trot kids mile, I couldn't stomach $25 for her to run a mile so I asked her if she'd like to run a 5k to which she responded "But I'm not seven." I told her because I was her mother I could grant her special permission. She said sign her up without hesitation. I hesitated, but still signed her up.

Photo Courtesy the Altavista Journal

The night before the run she was so excited and giddy but Thursday morning found her quiet. We started in the cold and she ran a little ways but then she had to walk. When we passed by the rest of the family cheering for us on the sidelines she was still somewhat smiling but not long after we ran by them she fell apart. Tears and words of quitting poured out of her small body and I was worried. Other runners, other mothers looked over at us with a hint of sympathy to both our causes. I started to wonder if I should let her quit, if I should call Todd in for back-up. She cried that she was cold, I gave her my vest, she cried that it was too big. She cried that she had to pee, I asked if she could wait, she wailed that she could not, I took her into the woods. She reminded me of myself and it both frightened me and made my heart laugh.

Then I started to think. Bailey's a lover of stories so I began to tell her a story, The Paper Bag Princess. She stopped crying but kept moving. After the first story she set into my crying that it was cold and still too far to go, I asked her if she would like to sing Christmas carols. She rather impolitely told me no. I set in telling her the story of Little Red Riding Hood but even with my many elaborations the story was over far too quickly. Then I began telling her The Princess Bride. When she caught on she started to correct my retelling of the story, she started to skip. My heart skipped a beat, having nothing to do with the running, I realized we're doing more than just running here. About this time I caught sight of the finish line and I asked her if she'd like to run it in from there to which she said she would. She finished her first 5k and I was one very proud mom.

Research, Fear, and Everything Else

Over the past few days I've ran very little but have started in on my usual pre-very-large-race ordeal. In other words, I'm becoming more and more fun for my dear spouse.

I've read Aaron's summary of the race and read it again, soon I believe I'll know it by heart. I've scanned the elevation profile until it made me nauseous and then I put it away. I've checked the weather and pulled out my old ski gear. I've went shopping both on-line and at The Aid Station for cold and wet gear, but I've yet to buy anything because then I would have to stop worrying about that aspect of the race. I've penned some ten hundred words down in my little composition books aggrandizing just how difficult this race is going to be if the weather is unfavorable.  Last year's finish is apparently not exchangeable for any confidence that I'll finish this go round, especially following Jeremy's declaration that last year's sissy weather makes last year's race almost unqualified to be called Hellgate.

For some reason though, all of those steps are necessary for me to move forward. Truth is I am a pessimist with just a tad bit of hope that something good may happen, because every now and again something good does happen.

Well, I'm off to read more Hellgate race reports and summaries.

For now,
Alexis