Two weeks

In two weeks, I will have to decide if I will continue on with MCM training or defer until next year. (One other option: Transfer to the MCM 10K.) These two weeks are crucial for me. I need to give my mind a reset and see if I can turn this training around.

Like the past nine months, it will be a challenge.

This morning, two hours before I was supposed to wake up for my 16-miler, I was wide awake. I read for about an hour, then began thinking about the run. I had zero desire to go. Zero motivation. So I canceled it. Slept through the 5 a.m. alarm. When I was awoken by the sun around 8 a.m., I wasn't disappointed in myself -- I still had zero desire to strap on my water-filled CamelBak and head out for a five-hour run/walk. But it was a beautiful day, and I DID have a desire to be outside running. So I walked to the high school track and did three miles.

Yep. Three miles instead of 16. But I was glad I got outside and didn't fall in to the "all or nothing" mentality that typically defines me.

I've been thinking about this lack of motivation recently. As much as I am trying, trying, trying, I admit I'm not giving 100 percent. This recent horoscope hit home:

"You're not doing all you can to ensure the outcome that you most desire -- but why? It's a good day to examine your motives very carefully."

One thing that I'm sure has been holding me back (physically, yes, but mostly mentally) is my weight. I stopped eating the junk that my office gives out for free every day (for the first week or two of our free-snack program, I succumbed to M&Ms and Famous Amos cookies and a bunch of crap; for the past month and a half, I have not touched the bad stuff). But I still am eating a lot of bread/carbs -- and too much dried mango at work -- and not really tracking my calories. When I DO track myself and choose Sweetgreen salads over Chipotle burrito bowls, I not only feel better physically but I am much more motivated during my runs. Even if the weight isn't down, I'm more inclined to run longer, more often, better because my mind believes I can.

And as many people tell me, and I have experienced, so much of long-distance running is mental. I have put in the miles, and I should be able to go farther, but when I get that nagging voice in my mind telling me I can't do it, it usually stops me cold.

So I've decided to see what happens this week, and hopefully next, if I focus on my diet and small runs. See if I can flip that switch in my brain. It's really the last tool I have in my toolbox -- and a critical one.

Keeping that chin up

Blog rewind: Let me start by backing up two weeks and telling you about that 14-miler. It was brutal, but I did it. That’s thanks especially to my friend Lori and her son, Jack, who planned to meet me at Georgetown’s waterfront park afterward. The plan to meet up with them ensured that I got myself out to the Capital Crescent trail (an old favorite path of mine) and had enough time to finish.

The beginning was hard. I was exhausted, could barely pick up my legs and my CamelBak (I bought one to help keep me hydrated on long runs) was so heavy. But I kept telling myself that the beginning is always hard for me. It takes me a good two-three miles to warm up. So I kept on. When I hit the turnaround point at Mile 7, I was feeling good. But right before mile 12, oof – it became brutal. It was getting hot, the sun was intense, and I was feeling really nauseated and woozy. The last two miles seemed to last forever, and I wondered if I was even capable of finishing them on two legs. At one point, I stopped and stood against a railing until the nausea passed. It took me more than 40 minutes to do those last two miles, I was dragging so much.

But what a feeling of accomplishment when I finished. It had been about six years since I had gone that far.

That week was rough at work – I was filling in for a colleague and worked long days and didn’t run once. Not even on Sunday.

Last week at work was also bad. I stayed late nearly every night and worked till 1:30 a.m. on Wednesday to finish a photo gallery for Jon Stewart’s last show. The next night was the GOP debate, and I stayed until 3:30 a.m. Needless to say, with the exception of some speedwork on Tuesday, I didn’t get out to run. (The speedwork was good, though my foot began to hurt toward the end.)

On Sunday, the plan was to do 16 miles. My foot was hurting a bit and I worried about getting too far out and not being able to get back. So I only went to mile 5 and turned around then, finishing with 10. I was so tired. When I got home I fell into bed and slept solid. 

Today, Wednesday, I went out to do speedwork ... only to find that the track was closed again. It had reopened to my delight last week but here it was shuttered once more! So I went out on to the hilly Custis Trail and tried to run as fast as I could. I was impressed with my speed and endurance -- until I looked at my watch and saw how insanely slow I had been going. It was frustrating to say the least.

How am I feeling mentally? That’s been … interesting. Of course, the realistic part of me still worries and believes 100 percent that I’m incapable of meeting the time limit for MCM. But even if that IS the case, I have reason to push on. Two of them, actually:

1. That girl in the picture I posted last month. When I think about her – when I imagine her saying what’s coming out of my mouth (I can’t do it – I’m too slow – what if I can’t finish? – I should give up), I want to shake her and lift up her chin and tell her NO—you can do ANYTHING. You just keep trying, OK? What will be, will be, but don’t give up.

2. An answer to an important question I recently posed. I wrote to an old coach of mine asking if it was even capable of a person my size to even run a 14-15-minute-mile, to even finish the MCM. He wrote back and told me it was possible but that it would require a lot of hard work. Days later, I came across a Runner’s World story about a woman who is my weight and runs marathons and ultra-marathons. She finished MCM at least three times. She runs at an 11-13-minute mile. She makes no apologies for her weight. She is amazing. And she gives me hope that it’s possible.

So with those two people as my inspiration, I continue on.

Something

I'll write more later, but for now, I at least wanted to give a small update: Yesterday, I completed 14 miles. The beginning and end (especially) were rough but I did it. And I'll take it.

It's something!

Looking for a ray of hope

Nagging thought on today's beyond-pathetic 3-miler:

You should know by now that just because you want something really bad, doesn't mean you can make it happen.

Why I keep pursuing this dream -- that is so clearly beyond my capabilities -- is beyond me.

Making the connection

I often think about this little girl with a round face, chubby arms and sad eyes. I see how she struggles in her life, and I so desperately want to help her.

I want her to be happy.

I want the daily teasings about her weight -- from friends and family -- to stop.

I'd love to see one of her many young crushes reciprocated.

It's not her fault she's overweight -- she's 8 years old, for crying out loud. It's not like you can blame this little girl for her body, for the excess weight.

Unlike me.

I'm 40 years old. I can blame myself for my body. I can blame myself for not being good enough to be in a relationship. I can blame myself for not eating better, for allowing myself to succumb to bad feelings. I should have more self-discipline. I should be more diligent about exercising. I should drink more water. I had my chance when I lost 150 pounds and I blew it. I am to blame for my many failures in weight-loss.

For this little girl, I have sympathy and empathy. For myself, not so much. I don't feel like I deserve it.

The thing is? That little girl is me.

When I see this photo of myself from my First Holy Communion, I feel horrible for the girl in the picture. I wish I could turn back time and give her a happier life. I wish she didn't have to sit on the school bus and endure daily taunting. I wish she hadn't been bribed by family members to lose weight. I wish she didn't have to feel so ashamed of something she had no control over.

But when I look in the mirror, or fail to finish a run, I am consumed with self-hatred.

I must learn to make the connection -- that she is me, and if I love her, I need to love myself. If I can find empathy for her, I should for myself as well. Why it's so hard, I have no idea. But I keep this photo on my wall so I can see it every day and try.

Setback dominoes

The setbacks, they just keep on coming.

It started with the cough -- the bugger of an illness that made me stop my walking streak. It lasted for more than three weeks. As I expected, once that streak ended, it was hard to find the motivation to pick it back up. Streaks like that aren't easy to do, and knowing that my foot pain was likely caused by overuse, I wasn't very motivated to begin again.

And with the lack of exercise came the overeating. It's a part of my history: All or nothing.

Then, after my vacation (where I took my running shoes and clothes but couldn't find a do-able path), I headed out to my neighborhood track for a long run only to find a sign that said the track was closed until Aug. 22 (INSERT PANIC HERE). Seeing that sign made my heart sink -- and then race with anxiety. The track was less than half a mile away from my home and was what helped me keep up my training. What was I going to do? The Custis Trail, while also close, was just too hilly for me to get in a solid run.

The rest of the week was a disaster -- I was filling in for folks on vacation and had to be at work at 8 a.m., sometimes not getting home until 9:30 p.m. Then I worked a solid 7:30 a.m. to 1:30 a.m. Saturday shift. (That's not a typo: It was an 18-hour workday.) The next morning, there was no way I was going to try to go for a long run. My immune system was already compromised from the lack of sleep. I could not get sick again.

All this past week I have found myself in a massive depression (mixed with some serious anxiety). I know the culprit: No running + free endless snacks at work. I was eating too much sugar/preservatives, was under stress at work and had no outlet to get rid of it.

On Friday, it took every ounce of energy I had to drive out to another high school track my friends had told me about. I did two laps before the rain came pouring down. (Normally rain doesn't bother me, but in this case, I was wearing my glasses and didn't have a hat.)

I returned today, Sunday, for what I hoped would be my long run. I was supposed to do 15 miles. I was sapped. It took everything I had to get to 10 miles, and most of it was walking. Get this: For the first two miles, I felt pain in my shins. What?! All this training had gotten me to a point where shin splints weren't an issue; I take a month off and I'm back to square one? Then my foot/toes began to ache. I thought the running/walking break I had taken had healed my feet. Apparently not.

What does this mean? I wish I knew. I can't help but see these series of setbacks as a sign that I shouldn't be doing this. Then I think of that song on my iPod: "You're an overcomer. Stay in the fight till the final round."

So I'm trying to look at this practically. I plan on adjusting my training schedule to build in more time before I try 15 again. And I need to get back to remembering the mantra "Live every day with intention" -- by planning my walks/runs better, committing to rolling my legs and strengthening my muscles, and having a solid plan for eating so I don't succumb to the sugary snacks.

As you know, that's easier said than done. But the only other choice I have is to quit and that's not an option right now. This fight's not over.

This past week, as I have wallowed in self-pity and battled anxiety, I searched hard for motivation -- I skimmed through my marathon books, flipped through Runner's World, etc. But unlike in the past, these writings weren't inspiring me. Every morning when my alarm would go off, I'd shut it off without a second thought.

Then yesterday, I was going through photos from the past year to get prints made, and I came across the shots of me walking the Turkey Trot, running in the snow, posing after those 10-milers, smiling on the track. And I remembered how much I had gone through to get to this point.

I was looking outside of myself for motivation while it was inside me all along.

Bummers and blessings

So. That cough of mine got pretty bad. It lasted nearly three weeks, and in the middle of it, I was sent home from work when I couldn't stop coughing and had a hard time catching my breath. I remember being in bed at 4 p.m. on that Thursday thinking, "But what about the streak?" I knew there was no way I could get out of bed and go walking, and when it hit me that I would have to end the streak, I was devastated.

The streak ended at 211 days.

I'm super proud of it. Yes, I wanted to do a whole year, but I had to be smart. And by taking three weeks off of running (and more than a week off of daily walking), I was able to give my feet a chance to heal along with my lungs.

But, as you can image, I've been fretting about falling behind in my training. So today's run was going to be super important. It would be the first day back on the track since my 10K in mid-May and my first attempt at running since the cough, and I really needed to get in at least 12-13 miles to feel good about where I am at.

I was blessed with a beautiful day -- truly perfect weather. And my first few steps at running actually felt great. I coughed a bit during those first few miles but soon hit a stride. And, I'll be darned, I was able to complete 13 miles this morning -- and without pain in my toes.

I thanked God over and over again.

And I thanked Jill. A year ago today, Jill passed way from breast cancer. She's strongly been on my mind over the past few days. When her song came on my iPod at mile 7, I was tired but was able to run the whole song (as I will forever try to do whenever it comes on). And what that taught me/proved was that I can do anything if I just put my mind to it. While I thought I couldn't run a step more during the prior mile, I proved that I indeed could. All because of Jill.

I miss her so much it hurts. Jill was always encouraging me in my running, always asking how it was going. Before my race at UNC, as I was standing at the Bell Tower getting ready to run, I pulled up the last email I had received from Jill. It was written April 22, 2014, a little more than a month before her death.

This is how it ended:

"thank you so much for your love and prayers.  miss you.  hope you are still running.  I think of you often and am so proud of all that you have accomplished in that arena.  it is not easy to keep up the motivation, I remember. love, jill"

I remember when I got that email feeling embarrassed that I hadn't run in quite awhile, that I had nothing positive about that to report back to Jill. So now, every step I take closer to getting back into a real running routine, I think of her and compose little notes in my head to her. The day before that race at UNC, Edgar posted video to my Facebook page of their four kids cheering "Run, Diana, Run."

And so I do.

Where did May go?

Oh my gosh, I can't believe I haven't written in so long. I need a do-over for May. Seriously. The month is almost over and I don't have much to show for it.

May started great -- I was running before work and feeling awesome doing it. I even ran 6 miles on a Thursday, which I need to be doing more of (longer distances during the week). Then I ran a 10K in Jacksonville last Saturday. It wasn't my best, but it was still pretty good.

But this past week has wiped me out. I have come down with a chest cold -- a horrible cough that won't quit. I've still dragged myself out to do a mile during these days, but I'm telling you, I'm not sure it's been worth it. The mile has left me in a fit of coughs that takes awhile to recover from. I still need to go out and do today's. Hoping it will be better. But that will explain the string of 1-mile minimums below.

I'm now at 208 days straight of at least a mile.

But I'm super behind in my training. I'm supposed to be up to 13 miles, and the longest I've done is 10 -- a month ago. So here's hoping I can beat this cold and get back out there soon. I can't let this bring me down.

(P.S. I will say that as I walked around the track yesterday at dusk, at what must have been a 25-minute-mile pace, blowing my nose every few minutes, I thought to myself "Well, no one can say you give up easily!")

182 days until the MCM: 1 mile

181 days until the MCM: 1.5 miles

180 days until the MCM: 1 mile

179 days until the MCM: 1.5 miles

178 days until the MCM: 1.5 miles

177 days until the MCM: 1.5 miles

176 days until the MCM: 1+ 1 miles

175 days until the MCM: 3 miles

174 days until the MCM: 1.5 miles

173 days until the MCM: 3 miles

172 days until the MCM: 1.5 miles

171 days until the MCM: 2 miles

170 days until the MCM: 1 + 1 miles

169 days until the MCM: 3 miles

168 days until the MCM: 1 mile

167 days until the MCM: 3 miles

166 days until the MCM: 1 mile

165 days until the MCM: 6 miles

164 days until the MCM: 1 mile

163 days until the MCM: 6 miles

162 days until the MCM: 1 mile

161 days until the MCM: 1.5 miles

160 days until the MCM: 1 mile

159 days until the MCM: 1 mile 

158 days until the MCM: 1 mile

157 days until the MCM: 1 mile

156 days until the MCM: 1 mile

155 days until the MCM: 1 mile

Revelation

It hit me one day this week. I don't remember when it was or what caused the revelation, but once I had it, a sense of peace washed over me.

It's about the journey, not the destination.

(So perhaps this blog's name should really be "Journey to the Finish Line"?)

As you may know, I've been feeling anxious lately about the MCM: It's only six months away! I haven't lost enough weight! I haven't been able to maintain a 15-minute-mile pace for 10 miles, let alone 26.2! I can't do this! Why did I ever think I could do this?!

But then, this week, I remembered what I had always told people with regard to the Marine Corps Marathon: I want to do the race, yes, but I'm most looking forward to training for the race. Doing those long runs on the weekends. Taking those wonderful "I just ran 15 miles" naps. Feeling my body get stronger. Coming up with longer and longer playlists to get me through longer and longer runs.

Recently, after two beautiful 10-mile races, I found myself grumbling that I'm not fast enough and who am I kidding? But that's ridiculous. I should instead be thanking God that I am where I am, that I'm back on my feet and able to run/walk any distance at all. I should be out there absorbing the sun and embracing the day and feeling the accomplishment, no matter how small it may seem. If I'm not, then why am I doing this?

Worrying about my speed and my progress will only sully this journey. It's not like I'm not pushing myself. I am. And that's all I can do. The rest will come, or it won't, but it really shouldn't matter.

What does matter is this twisty and turn-y and exciting and unpredictable journey I'm on.

Bring it.

Progress -- but not where I need to be

Well.

The past week has been eye-opening, but I'm afraid that it hasn't been the good kind of eye-opening.

The first 10-miler, in Chapel Hill, was really nice. It was a beautiful day, in a beautiful place, and I felt my friend Jill's presence so much.

Here's my favorite photo, from before the race. It was so peaceful in the stadium, and I could picture Jill in her band uniform playing during those UNC football games.

We were required to maintain a 15-minute per mile pace or be moved to the sidewalk. I was able to keep it up until about mile 5, but right around then, a few minutes behind, I was moved. It was OK -- I actually was with another runner who was super nice and supportive. My pace slowed in the last five miles (I was super tired), and I finished at about 2:42, which was a 16:16 pace. I then spent about an hour stretching in Kenan Stadium, as I was truly spent.

This week, I missed the last 5K in the Friday night series because of work/a missed train, but it was probably for the best. My right hip was hurting me. And my left foot has been in pain during some runs/walks. So I prepped for today's 10-miler instead and hoped for the best.

The cool thing about the Parkway Classic is that they have an early start option for those who can't maintain a 15-minute mile. So I took it. Unfortunately, they changed the process this year and it turned out that because I had signed up for the early start, I had to stick with the bicyclist for the first four miles, and he would only go at an 18-minute mile pace. So I wasn't even able to try to go faster until we were moved to the road with the rest of the runners.

The road, alas, was concrete, and while my IT band and hip seemed fine, my lower back hurt a bit and my foot, well, it was in a lot of pain.

I was able to run the last six miles at around a 15:30 pace, ending up with an average of 16:30 or so.

But as I sat on the waterfront with my medal afterward, I couldn't help but be a bit sad, worrying about the aches and pains, and realizing that I'm just not where I need to be in my training. I am definitely proud of how far I have come in the past six months. I'm a lot faster than I was, 35 pounds lighter and up to 10 miles in my distance. But I am still carrying too much weight on these runs and I'm starting to feel more pains than I'd like. I'm also not able to keep a 15-minute mile pace for 10 miles -- so how am I going to do it for 26.2?

I got my MCM training shirt in the mail this week and was super excited. But then a Facebook post came across noting the "six months until the race" and I kind of freaked out.

Can I do this? Should I even keep trying? I know I want this desperately, but with that six-month clock now ticking down, I am honestly more than a bit scared.

I'm also a little worried about this streak, which has hit 180 days. It may be causing me more problems than it's worth. A friend thinks the foot pain is a contusion from overuse. But if I stop the streak, I'm so afraid I will never get back.

A lot to think about.

192 days until the MCM: 1 mile

191 days until the MCM: 10 miles

190 days until the MCM: 1 mile

189 days until the MCM: 2.5 miles

188 days until the MCM: 1.5 miles

187 days until the MCM: 2.5 miles

186 days until the MCM: 1 mile

185 days until the MCM: 1 mile

184 days until the MCM: 2.5 miles

183 days until the MCM: 10 miles