Clients and running and sports bras, oh CRAP!

Just like children and husbands, clients seem to have the uncanny ability to have a CRISIS that needs my attention RIGHT NOW every time I am getting ready to run. And that is a neat trick since all of my clients are on the other side of the COUNTRY. How do they know? Is there an online service that sends out an urgent text? "She's already got her shoes on, someone stop her!!"

Today's schedule was a delicate, perfect balance of mom stuff, work stuff and running stuff. Kids to school, work, pick up new running shoes (so my toenails will stop FALLING. RIGHT. OFF.), work some more, run, pick up kids, more work, panic over what's for dinner... And so on.

I made it all the way to Time to Run. Today was slated for 10 miles, so it's not like I can just slap this onto my day after the kids are in bed, it takes me too long to run any significant distance because of, well... Donuts. And cake. And... But I digress.

I had already loaded the water belt and changed into running gear, which every woman knows involves the fun Smash-The-Bewbs sports bra routine. It's just like How to put on a sports bra by Anna Lefler - she knows the drill. I was strapping on my sports watch when The Panicked Client call came.

Being the good little gal that I am, I trotted back upstairs to help out. At which point "a quick email" became an hour and a half of handholding, and here I sit. Didn't even get to try a new GU flavor.

Runless.

Again.

GU Experiment Day 1: Chocolate Outrage

Eight miles today, warm and sunny and omiGOD the headwind. Since this is my first day trying out GU, I decided not to get too crazy and went with just one packet. I also paid attention and fueled up with a bagel about an hour before I ran.

Opening the GU was not the challenge I expected -- I was thinking along the lines of a fast food ketchup packet, which is my own personal nightmare. I did, however, stick the opened packet in my mouth and ZIP! slid it out fast. Felt like I gave the corner of my mouth a paper cut.

Flavor: Chocolate Outrage tasted pretty good, but very sweet and I'm not into super-sweet. (If only they made a steak-and-potatoes GU!) I think this may not be a go-to flavor for me just because the taste of warm chocolate ooze was not very appealing on a hot run. Also, this is the one GU selected for this grand experiment that contains caffeine. I felt like my pulse was racing for a little bit, maybe 10 minutes after I GU'd. I blame the caffeine.

Impact: I ate/applied/ingested (what is the correct verb here?) the GU in mile 5. This was only an 8-mile run instead of 10 (where the original bonk occurred), but I do think I was in better shape -- in terms of how I felt -- than on Sunday when I was struggling. Again, I did feel my heart racing a bit, but that went away soon enough.

Post-run: I refueled with carbs when I got home and guzzled some G2, which is standard post-run activity for me. The only thing different today was the GU, so the GU gets the blame for what happened next: massive digestive trauma about 30mins post-run. At the risk of getting repetitive, I blame the caffeine.

Up next are Strawberry Banana GU and Lemon Sublime GU, neither of which have the dreaded caffeine. Since I'm doing 10 miles on Sunday, I'll try two during the run and see what happens. Fingers crossed that this helps the bonk!

GU to the rescue?

Still obsessing over Sunday's 10-mile bonk, I wasted 15 minutes fondling GU packets at the running store last night.

I read on Runner's World that you should have GU or something for any runs over one hour. Based on the tone of the info, everyone over the age of 2 knew this already and I am officially a dummy. Anyway, I'm planning to try the following flavors this week:

Chocolate Outrage

Lemon Sublime

Strawberry Banana

Hopefully after tomorrow's 8 miles I can report back on the taste and the effectiveness of these things. Crossing my fingers that they don't cause projectile vomiting - a real buzz-killer for a runner's endorphin high.

Meanwhile, I have signed up for this 10K just because I must have a Tshirt that says "Hog Jog." Poetry!

Worst Run Ever

Nope, no hail and no creepazoids on Sunday's long run, and still it was the Worst Freakin' Run of this whole half marathon training thing.

[insert adult tantrum and whine fest here]

The weather was great - sunny and 70 - so I set off for 10 miles. For the first 6.5 miles, no worries. Then I realized that I was almost out of water, which is weird because I always carry a full bottle and only drink a little. By mile 8 it was clear that I was about to "bonk" on this run. I just had nothing left. And then... the worst possible thing happens...

I had to walk.

No, not a quick few strides, but a full on, muscles aching, I-got-nuthin', out-and-out WALK. For like a MILE. I did manage to shuffle along for the final mile but the damage was done. My average per-mile pace for this run was horrible. I'm already dreading when I have to go this distance again. Next Sunday. Yeesh.

Because I have a little crazy, I've spent the last 24 hours obsessing about this. Why did it happen, what can I do differently, didn't I look like a total dumbass walking down the road?!? All I can come up with is fueling. I had a bowl of shredded wheat for breakfast and some soup for lunch, then ran around 1:30. Maybe I need more carbs before I run. This is usually a non-issue for me because of all the carbs found in donuts. See, I knew that limiting my donut intake was a bad idea!

Also, the empty water bottle could be a Clue. I can't carry more water, but maybe I need to hydrate better before the runs. And so, gentle reader, there is a bottle of G2 on my desk right now.

Right next to the donut.

Oh, yeah... Running!

To atone for my Twilight rant, we'll get back to that running thing!

Running for donuts is going well. I still eat donuts but my long run is up to 9 miles... 10 on Sunday! Some runs are better than others but I really think now it is just mental. I left today for a 7-mile tempo run and spent the first three miles in my head thinking about this sucky headwind and oh great now it's starting to rain and I bet I have to take a bunch of walk breaks.

Well, that sucky headwind became a lovely tailwind after the turnaround - very nice! The rain was light and at least I wasn't pelted by monster hailstones. No walk breaks whatsoever, now that I've mastered the Art of Drinking While Running, also known as Slobbering While Running, and I feel great.

I am beginning to suspect that somewhere in the psyche of every runner is a number. It's the number of the miles after which we think surely we can go no further without messing up or hitting that mystical wall. My number is six. Anything over six miles and my inner voice (who sounds a lot like Mrs. Carmichael, my elementary bus driver who yelled a lot and banged on the roof of the bus) goes to work, telling me this is too hard, what was I thinking, blah blah blah.

Sometimes I listen to Mrs. Carmichael, but not as often as I have in years past. I have three half marathons under my size-XL belt and I am determined to PR this May.

The only real downside is my poor toenails. They are taking a beating no matter what I do (bigger shoes, better socks, nothing works). If only they would just get bruised and turn purple or black, that would be a snap -- dark nail polish to the rescue. But, no. My piggies look just fine and then suddenly three or four toenails will just... Fall. Right. Off. Leaving me with a little nub of a nail 'til that grows in all the way and we start all over.

So, no pedicures for me. Who would want to touch these nasties? And as soon as I get a nice coat of polish on, a few nails fall off and it looks, well, nasty. This running thing is working out great for every single body part except the poor toenails.

On the bright side: at least my butt is back up where it is supposed to be!

Dear Bella, Sharpen a Stake and Help Out!

The Twilight saga of forbidden teenage vampire werewolf psycho love has descended on my home with no relief in sight. My teenage daughter, Hank, is crazy for Twilight. Thankfully she is Team Jacob, which means we spend more time looking at this:

and less time looking at this:

(Clearly this vampire's inability to eat cheeseburgers and drink milkshakes has negatively impacted his physique. Someone get this kid a donut!)

Scrawny, glittery vamps aside, here's why the Twilight series (all of the books and, so far, all of the movies -- I'm an equal opportunity hater here) really makes me nuts: Bella.

This girl is the worst romantic heroine EVER. At any given moment, Bella is:

Afraid of vampires.

Afraid of werewolves.

Afraid of getting older.

Fainting with fear.

Sick with fear.

Screaming in fear WHEN SHE IS SLEEPING.

Are we seeing a theme yet? Oh, and one time she isn't really afraid but she sits and stares out her window despondently for six freakin' months.

She doesn't fight back. Doesn't stand firm. Just runs around afraid until someone else saves her from the bad guy, bad gal or, just as likely, from her own stupid self.

The scene that really chaps me is the first werewolf fight, where she makes one wolf mad and another wolf (Jacob) comes to her rescue. The wolves fight while Bella cringes in the background, watching (fearfully, of course). That garage where she spent so much time with Jacob and those stupid motorcycles is RIGHT THERE. Instead of sitting on her behind watching Jacob take on the big bad wolf to protect her, she had plenty of time to go grab a wrench or crowbar so she could wade into that fight and take a few swings herself.

I spend an inordinate amount of time teaching Hank and her younger sister, Abner, about standing up for themselves and being strong. We've been studying martial arts for almost 3 years and these girls are that close to a black belt. They are confidant young ladies (without being brats, there is a difference!) and know their own worth. They're glorious, strong young women and then we show them the "it" story of the year:

Bella The Fearful.

Yeesh.

P.S. I remember taking Hank and Abner to see the movie "Shark Boy and Lava Girl" years ago. That Jacob hunk was the kid who played Shark Boy. I'm pretty sure that my admiration of Jacob's bare chest makes me a dirty old lady.