4.22.13

It's funny how even when I run solo, I feel that running erases my loneliness. My husband has been away so much with his new airline that I've been home along most of the last two weeks. It was wonderful that we were able to be together for almost 2 weeks before that. It's been a long time since we had so many consecutive days together.

Sometimes when he's home I find it hard to go out on a run. I value our time together and feel that I'm being selfish for going on a run. Lucky for me I married a man who sees how happy running makes me. He all but throws my shoes at me sometimes. He's not fooling me, I know it's so he can work on building models.

Today was my first run in 6 days. My shin splints had gotten really painful so I forced myself to take a few days off. Did BodyPump and BodyFlow back-to-back yesterday (a really good mix) and my shins felt great.  Ran 4 miles today with a little pain; I tried to concentrate on my form and luckily that seemed to really help out my shins. Add some stretching, ice and some Zensah compression sleeves and I'm not feeling any twinges. Crossing my fingers!

Weather was beautiful for a run. 52F, a little windy, clear skies. Couldn't ask for a nicer day. I saw a bluebird! Never ever saw those in Florida so I'm still very excited to see one. Unfortunately today's adventure was devoid of labs :(

I also have a new "body" goal. Instead of it being a certain target weight (which I learned is unreasonable) or a certain pant size (except for I'd like last year's shorts to fit, yo). I decided that I want to feel FIERCE. I wanna have my muscly legs and arms back and some semblance of abs. I figure the rest will fall into place. My legs are already getting nuts between all this running and BodyPump!! Fierce, yo. Fierce. <3

#RunForBoston

Today I got out and ran 4.15 miles as soon as my reserve period ended. Some people have done 26.2 miles, 2.62 miles, 26.2 minutes, 4.09 miles or 4.15 miles. I think it's all important. I've seen a lot of quotes today about how messing with runners is futile, and I agree. You're not going to find a more dedicated, persevering, resolute bunch than runners, ESPECIALLY Boston runners. I can only hope and wish and train my butt off to become one of those people eventually.

I may have overdone it in the last couple weeks, going from a post-Princess 1/2 marathon (post to come later) break back to 5 and 6 mile runs with no real buildup. The left shin pain I had been feeling has been joined by right shin pain over the last week, and today it was so painful I barely managed a 13 min/mile pace, far off my typical 11-11:30. I tried zensah calf sleeves today and while they seem to help when I'm not running, I swear they make my calves cramp up. We'll try again. Yesterday instead of taking the whole day off after 2 races this weekend, I went to a BodyPump class. Probably not the best idea. David is home tomorrow from his first trip (yay!) so I'm sure he can convince me to hang out and relax a bit ;)

I tell you what, though. Instead of complaining during my run, I yelled at myself (this MAY have been out loud and not just in my head) to get over it. I thought about Boston. I thought about the dad who was running the race yesterday only to lose his son and come *this* close to losing his other two children and his wife. I thought about the other two people to lose their lives. I thought about the people who will never be able to run on their two legs again because they lost theirs yesterday. And if I can't get over some cramps and some shin splints...

It's been since 9/11 that a terrorist attack has affected me this much. I never felt connected to any of the mass shootings. I felt horrible for the victims, of course, but I didn't feel like those incidents affected me. But I can put myself in the shoes of those people. I've been there. I've waited for friends to cross finish lines. I've looked for my family as they watched for me to cross the finish line.

I think the most important thing about #RunForBoston was that it got people out running. Instead of sitting at home watching the news, we got out and did what we love most. Maybe we still felt sad, maybe we felt happy and free. But we got out there, back on the proverbial saddle. I hope that the survivors of this attack feel that they can persevere, as well. I hope they see us all running for them. I hope it helps.

The Boston Marathon

I'm normally not the sort of person who jumps on the "I <3 X" or "Today we are all ____" bandwagon after a tragedy. But today I'm wearing one of my race shirts as suggested by many of the running groups/blogs that I follow. I guess I feel more connected, since yesterday's bombings were at not only a race, but THE race. A race every runner dreams of running. Runners are happy people. This is why we run, because it makes us happy, it changes us inside and out. I guess that makes the bombing even more inexplicable; Boston is such an apolitical event. It celebrates the strength of the human spirit in its purest form. Thousands of people run this race for charities. Many participate in wheelchairs, either their own power or with family or friends pushing them. The rest have run countless miles, made huge sacrifices and pushed their bodies and minds so that they could qualify for this race of races.

One of the amazing things about Boston is the overwhelming amount of love and support from people along the entire 26.2 mile route, who turn out to cheer on their families, friends and complete strangers. The women of Wellesley college are famous for their screaming and kisses and signs at the midpoint of the race. The wounded and killed yesterday were there for the sole purpose of showering runners with love. For me that makes it all the more heartbreaking.

I can't help but wonder if any race I run ever again will be the same. There's plenty of security at large races, and even at small, local races, a few volunteer police officers are there to provide help and protect the runners. Will we be forced to have our bags searched when we get to bag check? Will runners have to go through metal detectors now before we go to our start corrals? Will spectators, the heart and soul and backbone of even the smallest races, stop coming out of fear? Will any of us ever be able to go on a run ever again and not think about what happened yesterday? I don't know if we can, and that makes me sad and angry. I feel like the purity of running has been stripped from all of us. I hope we can turn it into something positive. And for that, I'm wearing a race shirt today.