Biker Babes and Running Divas

I would like to say up front that I don't want to offend anyone here with my judgements...But yesterday I realized I will never truly be a cyclist. Runners are friendlier--at least while out on the road. Simply put. For a somewhat (ok, very) social girl like myself, that's important.

I am relegated to the bike right now while my foot heels up -- it's a great way to keep up my cardio and aerobic capacities so I won't be starting back from scratch when I get the go-ahead to run again later in June. Yesterday I felt my heel was doing well enough that I could take the bike off the trainer I have set up in my sunroom. I'm fortunate enough to live very close to miles and miles of bike/run paths. So I unhooked the bike and headed outside.

My neighborhood is filled with hills, but I no longer fear those--even on a bike. I got going on an uphill climb within my first half mile and passed a group of walkers--probably out on their lunch break. I smiled and said hello--and they kindly returned my greeting.

Kept going. And going. Eventually passed another cyclist. Again, I smiled and said hello. Nothing. Oh, well, I thought, maybe he was in his "zone." A mile later, I passed another cyclist. Again with the hellos. Again--NOTHING. What the heck???

In total, I passed probably 8 to 10 other cyclists and 6 or 7 more runners after that initial group. I nearly got run over by one group of cyclists not adhering to the single-file-stay-to-the-right rule, but he did at least smile and say, "Oh, sorry 'bout that!" as he ran me off the path and thankfully onto a flat grassy area.

At the end of my ride, nice as it was to be outside, I really missed being a runner. Why is it runners seem more friendly to me? Is it because we're going slower than a bike so we have the time to say hello? Is it because we're not constantly looking for curbs, holes, and more at higher speeds? (Ok, as a runner, I DO look for those things as I don't like twisted ankles...) Is it just because I'm really missing being a runner so I'm looking for something negative in everything else?

I do enjoy cycling now--I never thought I would enjoy it this much when I really started incorporating it into my running training 6 months ago. I love the run more. But I wonder what I'd be like as a triathlete? : ) How are those swimmers?

Excuse Me, Does This Boot Come in Black?

Well, my big race for the year has come and gone--longest distance for the year, that is. We had our 25K Riverbank Run here in Grand Rapids on May 10. If ever you've wanted to travel for a race--this one is worth it. It's reportedly the largest 25K race in the U.S.--drawing elite athletes from all over the world. This year 2008 Olympian and fellow Michigander Brian Sell ran the race and took 1st place. Pretty cool. www.53riverbankrun.com

The day was beautiful--no winds, blue skies, great crowds. Temperature-wise, it was about 10 degrees warmer at the start than they'd predicted (it was 46 degrees), but we were still dressed fine. Jeanine, Annie, and I all ran the 25K, Chris ran the 5K, Andrea cheered us all on (she's 9 months pregnant--she deserves a break!). They added a 10K race on, as well, so we did have a few friends who were running that.

My left heel had been bothering me since our March 5K--the Irish Jig. I taped it up as always, laced up my shoes, and tried to tell myself it was fine. The tape didn't feel as supportive as usual, but I thought I was just second-guessing myself with race day nerves.

The race started--I couldn't find Jeanine or Annie, so I ran with two Riverbank Road Warriors (a program I trained with this year). We made sure to pace ourselves early so we didn't go out too fast--a problem I used to have on race day. Our first mile--9:53. Beautiful. I was hoping to average 10:30 minute miles overall. We brought it down a notch, but not too much, keeping up our conversation and just enjoying the run. It worked well for the first 7 miles. My 7 mile average -- 10:20 per mile. I have been able to negative split on longer runs, so I was pretty excited at that point. I told the gal I was running with to go on and I'd catch up--I wanted to slow a bit at that point to prepare for the hilly portion of the race and ease up on my foot.

Big mistake. When I slowed down, my arch seized up. My heel felt like someone shot a bullet through it. My achilles started pulling. I could barely put weight on it. I kept going, knowing I had no desire to be walking through the split mat at mile 7.87. But it was hard. I could see on my Garmin that my 1 mile lap time was starting to wane. Significantly. I kept trying to hobble between running and walking.

I got to The Hill and forced myself to run up it--I was trained to run the hills--no way was I walking it. So I pushed up it trying to focus my mind on the music I could hear from the crowd and not on the pain in my foot. I got to the top and started whispering a mantra of less-than-ladylike words. Another Road Warrior came up behind me and asked if I was ok. "Fine," I said, "keep going--you're doing great!" He walked with me for a bit--he was having a tough run himself. I'm sure he was surprised by my quiet cursing, as usually I'm the enthusiastic rah-rah runner of the bunch.

I started seeking out any grass or gravel I could find. One word of wisdom--do not run on bigger pepples and rocks if the bottom of your foot is in agony. Makes it worse.

Long story somewhat shortened--I ended up walking the majority of the last 6 miles of the race. I still ended up crossing the finish line with time to spare for a medal, which considering the 6 mile walk, was impressive, I suppose, but I was pretty depressed for the rest of the weekend. I had trained so well and so hard for this race. My time sucked-- 3:05:07 for 15.5 miles. EGADS! It was not the finish line experience I needed back (I raced this one in 2003 and got injured the past two years trying again for it). But I did get my finish medal (which, oddly, is much lighter weight than my 2003 medal, even though the design is still the same!)

I saw my orthopaedic doctor four days later--that actually made me feel somewhat better about my lousy time. When the P.A. showed me the x-ray--I saw a very nasty heel spur and a bone chip--yes, somewhere along the line bone had chipped off from a tug-of-war match with a tight tendon. Plantar fasciitis is bad enough, but add those other two to the mix, along with bursitis to give the spur something to dig into...OUCH. The P.A. had also run the race--she was surprised I made it to the finish line considering the foot. There is still a chance there is a stress fracture, so for the next month I am in a giant steel-gray aircast--aka The Storm Trooper Boot. Why can't they make these in black or brown? Or lighter weight? This thing weighs in at 3 pounds!

One positive thing? I have a good shot at getting that "most improved" award, presuming this heals up ok for me to do a half-marathon in the fall.

Am I a runner?

No, I am not. I am a jogger. And I'm ok with that. Today was the "big" run for my Sole Sisters and I, they running a 25k and I running a 5k. I use the term "running" loosely, because my pace is no match to theirs. I really don't even keep track of my pace, other than to be able to converse with them about it. Today, I had planned to at least try to beat my time from last year. But I was running with a friend who struggles with running, and I opted to stick with her instead. And ya know what? I really enjoyed myself today. When she walked, I jogged slowly next to her. Instead of looking at the ground, and searching out the openings to be able to move ahead, I looked around and enjoyed the crowd cheering us on, the beautifully georgeous weather, the U.S. Marine corp group running in formation, chanting their songs as they passed. I really had a fun time! I ran with my friend through mile 2. That was where the "big" hill is that her and I have discussed the past year that we needed to get through (this year it didn't really seem nearly so big!), and I really felt I wanted to be with her as we ran up it, and cheer with her at the end of it. It was a great feeling. After that, she wanted to walk again, and said I could go on, so I opened up and just ran. While that felt good too, I wasn't attentive to my time. Truth be told, I still haven't checked my time. So I think I'm really just a jogger. But, man, I sure did enjoy the jog today a lot more than I would have a run. And I'm ok with that.

Why I eat

At a recent gathering of the Sole Sisters, the topic of eating came up. One of the girls was lamenting how she was unable to meet her daily caloric needs with her running, not able to eat enough. My jaw just dropped. I asked her how that was possible. How could she not eat enough? She said she just wasn’t hungry. Huh?? Since when does being hungry have to be the motivator to eat? (Yes, I know this is an issue I need to work on. :)) She didn’t appear to understand where I was coming from, so I’m writing this to offer some insight to her.

Why do I eat?

• I eat because… it’s 8 a.m. and I’m “supposed” to have breakfast.
• I eat because… it’s 9 a.m. and I’m cleaning up the kids breakfast dishes and there’s two bites of oatmeal from the 2-year-old, and one bite of peanut butter toast from the 4-year-old, and, ummm…yum! Can’t waste that!
• I eat because… it’s 10 a.m. and the kids are asking for something to eat, and some apple slices magically slip into my mouth.
• I eat because… it’s 11:30 a.m. and I’m making the kids lunches and peanut butter is my absolute biggest weakness, so how can I help having a teaspoon or two?
• I eat because… it’s 12 noon and it’s “time” for me to eat lunch now.
• I eat because… it’s 12:30 p.m. and I’m cleaning up the kids lunch plates, and there’s a couple bites of p.b.&j. sandwich left, and did you read about me and peanut butter?
• I eat because… it’s 1:30 p.m. and the kids are asking for a snack, and the pretzels/peanuts/teddy grahams sound nice and crunchy and just a little won’t hurt.
• I eat because… it’s 2 p.m. and I’m so tired I could fall asleep if I sit down so I need some energy food.
• I eat because it’s 2:30 p.m. and the 2-year-old just came in from the sandbox and put her sandy hand in the ½ full jar of peanut butter. Then when she realized she was going to get in trouble, she ran to hide behind the couch in the family room and stuck her peanut-buttery-sandy hands all over it. Oh I need some chocolate!!
• I eat because… it’s 4 p.m. and my 6-year-old just got home from school and it is yet another snack time, and now I AM actually hungry, and cheese and crackers and grapes sound yummy.
• I eat because… it’s 6 p.m. – dinnertime. Of course, dinner is always really tasty because it’s something that sounds good to me, or that I haven’t had in a while, and while I do make my dinners healthy, that doesn’t help when you overeat because it tastes so good.
• I eat because… it’s 9 p.m. and the kids are all in bed and I could actually eat something without having to share it with 3 others’ little hands.

With all these opportunities, I don’t understand, how does my Sole Sister NOT eat?!