Hello wall, my name is Kiersten

The first 15 miles of the marathon I felt great. I had to be there extra early because the half marathon my roommate was running started an hour earlier. So I sat in Starbucks, reading the NY Times, and munching my mini-wheats. I started with the 4:15 pace group, but it felt too slow. There were a couple other women who felt the same way, so we took off together. We ran a 9:15-9:30 pace and it felt easy. We ran through the military base and through a gauntlet of soliders. They were all hoo-raying and slapping us five. They we looped back through the center of Virgina Beach and ran down the board-walk. It was lined with people cheering. I felt like a rock-star. Then came mile 16. We headed back out of the downtown on a long straight run. It was now 10 am, and the sun was blistering. There was no shade, and we were away from the seabreeze. My poor body, acclimated to the cold after a winter of long runs in the slow and below zero temperatures started dying. At mile 18 I threw up, and then proceeded to continue to throw up and dry heave all the way to the finish. My muscles started seizing and I was dizzy. I realized I lost a goo. We still hadn't turned around and headed back towards the finish. I dropped down to running 5 minutes and walking 1. Then running 4, and then 3. Then I walked half a mile. I was still only at mile 20. My four hour marathon was gone. I felt terrible. So terrible I considered quitting. But deep down, I knew how mad at myself I would be. I could always walk to the finish. Except walking was taking FOREVER. So I started running again. 1 minute of walking, and 1 minute of running. I finished in 4:24. I collected my finishers medal, my hat, my shirt, a bottle of water, and a banana. I limped to the beach and collapsed crying. I couldn't get up. I couldn't take a sip of water or a bit of my banana without heaving. I didn't even get my free yingling. After an hour my wonderful friends drove the car as close to the finish, and I dragged myself to it, then concentrated on not throwing up in their backseat. When we got to the hotel, I fell onto the bed and slept for 2 hours. Finally 7 hours after finishing I managed to eat an Italian ice. This race broke me.

It's time!

Today was my last run before the race. A short, east 45 minute run. And at the end I was tired. Which leaves me asking, how am I going to run 21 more miles on Sunday?

Freak Out Week

I am now less than a week away from the marathon. This is probably my least favorite week ever. It's too late to get any more training in, so all I can do is question whether or not I did enough training. And I can't even go for a nice long run to calm myself down. Also, the left side of my body is not happy. My foot is still bruised and swollen from where I tripped over a giant metal spike in the dark last week. All because I had to race my boyfriend to the car so he couldn't open the door for me. (Don't ask me why??). Next my left calf is as hard and tight as a rock, despite copious amounts of stretching and foam rolling. And then my left hip doesn't seem to want to stay located when I put any amount of pressure on it. This happens sometimes. But why is it happening now?

snot rockets

Let me preface this by saying that I am not against snot rockets while running outside. In fact, I have allergies and a chronically drippy nose, so I frequently resort to the method for clearing my head. But only when outside, and only after checking to make sure I'm not going to hit anyone.

This morning at the gym, the guy next to me on the elliptical was blowing snot rockets into his hands, wiping it on his sweatshirt, and then placing his snotty hands back on the elliptical. NOT OK AT ALL.

International Women's Month

I missed International Women's Day on Monday without even noticing, which is a statement about the level of attention the day gets in this country. When I lived in Italy. March 8th was a real holiday: women stopped each other on the street, women were given flowers, women met in large groups for dinner, where they were given free drinks. At first this made me feel a little strange because I don't think that just because of my sex I should be treated specially. Yet, the more I thought about it, the more I liked it. Women should celebrate themselves and the women around them. I am grateful to all the women who came before and broke the path. Without women like Susan B Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton I would not be able to vote. Without women like Katherine Switzer I wouldn't be able to run in official marathons. Without women like my Mom I wouldn't know that women can do it all (raise a family, have a career, fix a flat tire, grill a steak, drive a boat). So this is my challenge for all you women out there- what are you going to do to raise the bar?

Restoration

Ever year we I go up to Sugarloaf with my Mom and her "band." They play guitar and fiddle. It's a whole weekend of nothing but skiing, eating, and music. I wasn't feeling well (probably the result of a warm turkey sandwich I ate out of desperation on the plane home Thursday), but I didn't want to miss the weekend. Saturday, I went downhill skiing. They had gotten 36 inches of snow the weekend before and conditions were as good as they ever get. It was an intense day of skiing. I was skiing with family friends, who are avid back country skiers, and we met up with a group of their friends, one of whom was a fellow Olympian. We were skiing all the double diamonds, and we were doing them fast. By the time I hiked to my car at 4 pm I was exhausted. But the good, I've pushed myself to the absolute limit exhausted.

Sunday morning, we got up early and went cross country skiing. Normally, cross country skiing is a consolation prize for me, when I don't have the time or money to go downhill. But exhausted and still feeling sick, I found it to be exactly what I wanted. It was the perfect temperature to be comfortable, but no so warm that the snow was mushy. The sun was warm, and the trails had just been groomed. I had a waltz that we played the night before playing in my head, and I was skate skiing at an easy pace to the beat. There was no one else around. Just me, the soft woosh of my skis, fresh air in my lungs, and the trees. Perfection. Restoration.

pain in the butt

Marathon training is progressing. I've gotten in two 20 milers, and so I guess it's time to start tapering (and by tapering I mean skiing every weekend instead of long runs!). I feel pretty good. Last year, I was incredibly sore for about 4 days after 20 milers. Now, I've got my recovery down to the point where I can work-out the next day. I usually aim for a class at the gym or the elliptical to give my running specific aches and pains a day off. The only thing I'm worried about is this persistent pain. I've had IT band and hip issues before, but this is different. It's not on the side of my hip, it's right smack in the middle of the right side of my butt. I was walking around the house last night holding on to it- which I admit looked pretty strange- and I got some good teasing from the roomies. I've been stretching and foam rolling like a fiend, but nothing seems to reach this particular ache. Not a huge deal, just a pain in the butt!

Dubai

I'm in Dubai for work this, and while I love how exotic the city feels, I am not loving the running here. The "gym" at the hotel, is a crappy treadmill and a crappier elliptical. The worst part is that there is no AC, and I, being acclimated to running outside all winter, am instantly a giant sweaty mess. After 4 days, my body and mind were rebelling at the thought of another run inside.

So I decided to venture outside. The city is amazingly safe- so I wasn't worried about running outside by myself in the very early morning. However, I was worried about the traffic (it's terrible) and about the cultural appropriateness of running in shorts and a tank-top in a Muslim country. The traffic wasn't so bad- there are sidewalks everywhere. I did spend a fair amount of time waiting at stop lights, but I didn't have any close calls. The clothing was another matter. Maybe it was all in my head. The whole time I was running I felt so aware of my body. This isn't a place when men leer and cat call, like when I ran in Italy. It is a place of silent disapproval. This makes it difficult to tell if it is just me being paranoid, or if I'm truly being offending people.

I also struggle with how much I should care about this. I don't agree with the idea that women should be covered all the time. But, I am a guest here, and as a guest I should be respectful of my hosts.

Split Personality

Last week I got to indulge both sides of my personality. I spent the Monday-Thursday in Las Vegas for work. I was staying at a nice hotel, eating FANTASTIC meals, drinking fancy Starbucks lattes, and running strict interval workouts on the strip. I wore suits and makeup and sipped martinis.

Then Friday-Sunday I drove up to Utah to go skiing. I stayed in a tiny one room cabin, wore the same clothes for 3 days, ate nothing but peanut butter and jelly and Honey Bunches of Oats, and had no TV or internet. I was a ski hermit. I was the first one on lift every morning and the last one off. The skiing was glorious- fresh powder and bright sunshine. Something about the mountain in Utah even made me ski differently. Instead of bombing down the hill as fast as possible, I slowed down, I was playful. I skied in and out of the woods, dove into deep piles of powder.

It still seems strange to me that I could be so happy in two places so different.

New Year

I rang in the New Year in a low key, but very me, way. I went up to NH and spent the day Nordic skiing with my Dad, step-mom, and little sister. It's rare that all of us are together for an entire day. We got up early and we skiing by 10. It was a great day. About 25 degrees and snowing lightly. It was my first time out on my xc skis this season. I forget that I love that feeling of gliding. I did about 4.5 hours and at least 10 miles, and unlike after a long run I didn't feel pounded to death. We all went out to a nice dinner. Then, my sister and I spent the next 2 days downhill skiing. It snowed for 3 straight days. Eat, sleep, ski in the fresh snow. Life doesn't get any better.

Now I'm having a hard time adjusting to the real world. Early mornings, work, and long marathon training runs. Which makes me ask myself, why did I decide to do another marathon if I dread the training this much?

I feel good

Marathon training has officially started. Last weekend I did 13 miles, and this weekend I did 15. Despite the fact that I dread my long runs beforehand, when I'm actually running I feel great. On Christmas I did 15 miles around Southport at a 9:05 pace. I didn't walk a single hill. Which is pretty amazing if you've seen the island: it's hilly! Last year I was excited for my training, but then by the end of every run I'm just dead. So now I just need to find a way to drum up some excitement before the run. I'm thinking a training buddy is the key. Anyone interested?

cortisone and my next marathon

After having persistent heel pain for more than 8 months, I finally went to a specialist on Tuesday. He agreed that it's probably plantar fasciitis, and gave me a cortisone shot. It hurt. 3 days later and it still hurts.

Also on Tuesday, I decided that even if I don't get a spot in Boston, I will run a marathon this spring. Probably Virginia Beach in March. That means I need to start doing some serious running.

It occurred to me that I night as I was trying to sleep, that maybe I'm a little crazy. I have this running injury that just won't heal, and here I am planning my next marathon. What lengths will I go to in order to keep running?

Isn't this a running blog?

Warning, this post will not wax poetic about the joys of running. Nope, today I'm going to talk about how much more I love skiing than running. Yesterday was my first day on the slopes. I went alone. It was cold and windy. There were only 3 top to bottom runs open. I loved every minute of it. Putting on my boots (and snow pants, and jacket, and head sock, and helmet, and goggles, and gloves- running does require way less gear I will give it that) I was practically giddy.

At the top of the mountain before my first run I looked out over the White Mountains of New Hampshire and savored the view for a few seconds, and then I was done savoring. I was there to move, not to stand still and enjoy the scenery. I ski fast. My first run, and every run after that, I had a huge smile on my face, as I sped down the mountain. I love making big swooping turns, getting way over on my edges. It is the closest I'll ever get to flying. When I'm skiing, I get this intense happiness that I rarely get anywhere else.

I was trying to figure out what it is that I love so much. The speed and the motion for sure, but I think it's more. When I'm skiing I don't have time to think. I am going so fast that it requires complete concentration. I'm the type of person whose mind never shuts off. So those few minutes of downhill are like a vacation for my brain. I arrive in the bottom with a racing heart, a frozen face, and a refreshed mind. Ski on.

Snowy and nasty and great

So I woke up this morning to find 4-5 inches of fresh snow. Much better than the rain and sleet that was forcast (although that is here now). I briefly considered the elliptical, but ]just couldn't bring myself to shut myself in the dark basement. I pulled on my Yak Trax, my reflective vest, and I was out the door.

Nothing had been plowed yet, and the snow was wet so it kept caking up in my Yak Trax. The snow was also piling up on top of my head and melting down my neck. So between the funny drag, stop foot motion I had to do every few steps, and the crazy head shaking to shake the snow off, I'm sure I looked pretty funny. Of course all the drivers thought I was crazy anyway, just for running in the snow.

I tried to stay on the side streets and sidewalks, but there were a few times where I had to run on the shoulder of the road. That was the only unpleasant part, because every time a car went by I got sprayed with cold, dirty slush.

Despite the fact that I was sliding all over, and threw in 6 hill repeats on a long hill, I still managed a sub 10 min. mile pace.

Of course today was the easy day- it was the day with fresh fluffy power, and few people on the roads. It's the next few runs that will be nasty as the rain and sleet that followed the snow will turn the roads and sidewalks into a icy mess. And based on the fact that not even the roads were plowed today, I'm not holding my breath that they'll plow the sidewalks.

The cold that won't let go

I've now been sick for 3 weeks. I have my appetite back (darn), but not my energy. When my alarm goes off I actually consider not getting out of bed (that never happens), and then the whole workout feels hard. Wednesday my lungs were burning and I felt like I was running a 5:10 pace. Then I looked at my Garmin- actual pace was 9:57. Even Zumba felt hard last night. I've slept so much that I now lie awake at night, had so many fluids I have to go to the bathroom every 10 minutes, and eaten so my fruit that the acid from the citrus is eating away my mouth. And I'm still not better. Grrrrrr