The Waiting.

Waiting isn't fun. Waiting in line. Waiting for your order. Waiting for the light to change. Waiting sucks. By nature, we were born with an impatient gene that gets pretty pissed when it has to wait. Waiting, when you feel healthy enough to run or exercise, falls in line with the aforementioned 'not fun' definition. But I know it's the right thing to do, for now. My doctor told me not to run until Tuesday, so that's what I'm going to do. Healing takes time. Unfortunately, so does training for a marathon. The good news is, I have a little bit of time to get healthy. If I can get one or two 20 milers in before the race, I feel fairly confident that I can finish the race. Which is really the only goal I should have, considering this is my first Full. Heck, it's only going to be my second race period. So finishing should be enough. Ideally, I'd love to finish in 4:20 or better. Had my injury not taken me out, that might've been an attainable goal. I ran 18 averaging 9:45/miles, and that was with a long break to help a friend out on mile 16. But that was October 2nd. This is now. Since October 9th, which will be two weeks, I've run a total of 12 miles. And on that 12 mile run, I got hurt--because I'm stubborn. I didn't listen to my doctor. This time, I will. I'm reminded that there is plenty of time to be injured, but not a lot of time to get well for the race. So I will play it safe. I will wait. Even though it's painful.

Marathon anxiety? So soon?

I'm already freaking out about the marathon. There, I said it. Could be that the hours of running podcasts and blogs I've read have something to do with it. Too much information too soon, me thinks. The other part of the anxiety has to do with my recent Achilles injury. Will I be okay to run tomorrow, having laid out a full week? And for that matter, will this injury (or other injuries) resurface before or during the race? My Chiro, Karen, suggested I wait until Tuesday and ease back into training with short mileage runs. I'm having trouble listening to that advice. Why? Here's why: If I do zero miles this week, and I'm technically not supposed to up my mileage more than 10% per week, I run the risk of further injury by doing, let's say, 30 miles next week. 10% of zero is nothing, so no matter what I do, there's a risk. So I have to balance not playing it too safe with not being an idiot. I'll know more after I get out there and run on the Achilles. On Sunday, I was hobbling around, in pretty major pain. Today, I'm walking normally with almost zero pain. At this point, I'm itching to run. And I'm stressing a little about being off my training. Fortunately, we were only schedule to run 6 or 7 miles this week on Jason's plan (17 on Hal Higdon, woof) so I don't feel too bad about laying out. However, we've got a long run on Saturday, and missing a long run hurts the confidence. We've run this distance before (18 miles) but we've only got two runs of that distance or longer left before the taper. Which isn't much of a taper, considering we're running a 15 miler the Saturday before the race. It'll be fine. I just need to stop letting doubt creep in and put my confidence back in the Lord. He's the one who keeps healing me and getting me back into the game. So I'm thinking he wants me to run this race. Stay tuned...

The Darkness.

It's getting darker. I ran 7.5 today, most of which was on dimly lit neighborhood streets. I try to run on the street. On some streets, this is an option. On Belt Line, this is a death wish. However, Belt Line is well lit. Unlike most of where I ran today, where I could barely see the lines in the sidewalk beneath me. You start to look for the dark areas. They're not really shadows, because shadows would require some sort of light. They're just dark areas that indicate a lower part of the path where ankle sprains and foot injuries like to hang out. Light areas equal flat, and for a runner, flat is good. Cambered roads, like the ones where I run, not so good. That's why it's best to run in the middle of the road which, granted, isn't all that safe. But I've found if you hold your hand up way before the car approaches and keep holding it up, the car eventually notices you, and gives you a fraction more room. They won't let you have the middle of the road (rightly so) but they won't swipe you with a side mirror either. Somewhere in between is adequate. But going back to the less than adequate lighting today, I know it's just going to get darker. And colder. Which reminds me, I should probably by some warmer, brighter gear. And another pair of Brooks Adrenaline. Because they're the most awesome running shoes ever.

Personal Best.

I never thought I'd say this, but I just ran 18 miles. Not in one week. I ran it in 2 hours and 54 minutes. That's a 9:45/mile pace. Granted, I'm not exactly breaking any world records, but it's a personal record for me. And that's what counts. More importantly, I felt little to no knee pain during the run. After the run, well, that's a different story.

The only way to explain how I've gone from gasping for air during my first run in April (which was 5 miles, and I stopped several times) to running 18 miles some six months later is to give God the credit. When you believe that God is capable of strengthening you, amazing things happen. I now believe I can run a marathon. Would I want to run one tomorrow? No. I still need the time to prepare. As of today, I've got 61 days left. That's less than 9 weeks. The last two weeks, I'll take it easy. But for the next 5 weeks, it's going to be intense. Long runs of 15 miles or more every Saturday. And a 20 miler two weeks from now. I now believe I can do it. Of course, I'll need lots of Gatorade and Goo along the way.

13.5 & 18.

Waking up at 4:15am on a Saturday morning is pretty brutal. But when you're preparing for a 13 mile run, it's doubly brutal. I splash water on my face, roll my feet over two ice cold pint glasses to get rid of the mild plantar fasciitis, and I'm awake. As some of you know, the process of preparing for a double-digit mile run like this is pretty involved. You have to freeze Gatorade and water the night before. You set your iTunes playlist the night before. The more you can do the night before, the better. Because you don't want to have to get up any earlier than necessary. So I met the guys at 4:50, we wait for Blake who put out water for everyone, and we hit the road around 5:15. I ran 6 miles with the group, and the last 7.5 alone. My legs felt heavy at the end, but I finished in about 2 hours 15 minutes. Which is respectable. I don't really care about time at this point, I just want to be able to increase my mileage and stay injury free. If I run 11 minute miles and finish the marathon, so be it. It's my first marathon, so finishing the marathon is my primary objective. Check that, my 'only' objective. I can lower my time later. This isn't easy. But I'm enjoying it. And I'm learning anything is possible when you completely rely on God to do something. God knows I couldn't do it alone. Oh, I also played 18 holes immediately after my run. The first 6 holes on the front I was 11 over. The last 12 holes I was 10 over. It was hot. I was tired. But I tied my father-in-law on the back 9, who played as bad as I've ever seen him play. So there's that.

Hayden Hungry.

Before I started running, I ate like a bird. Now that I'm running, I'm eating like a T-Rex. If my predator eye spots food, it's a goner. I think my body is telling me to refuel. I wonder if T-Rex's body told him the same thing. He ran around all over creation on those two monster legs of his. If only his tiny arms could've done the same. I read somewhere that in order to lose 1 pound, you have to burn 3600 calories. On average, you burn 100 calories a mile, and evidently you burn just as many walking as you do running. It has something to do with the amount of pounds per step being the same, regardless of whether you run or walk. I guess that makes sense. I'll leave that to the math experts.

In April, I weighed about 180. Now, I weigh anywhere from 173-175. Here's a perfect example of how much I'm eating--while blogging about eating, I just ate a Chick-Fil-A chicken biscuit. Did I mention that I'm eating a lot? Fortunately, I've got a good stash of almonds and peanut butter crackers at my desk. Speaking of which, those need to go in my belly. Like now.

Dance Moves.

Last night, big drops of rain fell from the sky. Lots of big drops. That, coupled with the fact that everyone has their sprinkler systems set for 5:30am, could only mean one thing--mud caked sidewalks. It probably could mean more than one thing, but for now, we'll just stick to one. Most sidewalks are uneven, by nature, and when it's early, and you haven't had coffee, your percentages of slipping and falling are pretty high. Higher than usual. I don't want to brag, but this morning I incorporated some pretty sweet dance moves in an effort to keep from turning an ankle, or a knee, or some other leg part that doesn't need to be turned. The streets I run on are busy. Especially busy for a residential neighborhood. Most drivers are fairly observant and move over into the next lane when I'm running their direction. Some won't move until the last second, and others won't move, period, which sends me jumping up a curb and onto wet grass, which can lead to the aforementioned sweet dance moves. I'm thinking that maybe I should choose a different 6 mile route next time. One that doesn't induce injury or near-death scenarios.

Speaking of injury, I recently joined the ITB Syndrome Club. It's a fairly common injury, as most runners know, and it sounds like a little bit like a test I took back in elementary--the ITBS test. It stood for the Iowa Test of Basic Skills. My injury, the ITB one, does not. It stands for Illio-Tibia Band syndrome, and it is a mother. It can sideline you for up to a year. Fortunately, I caught mine early, and it only kept me out for 2 weeks. Or maybe I didn't have it to begin with--all I know is I had all the symptoms. Pain on the outside of the knee cap is the most common trait. Thank God it's going away. I tried to run on it a few weeks ago and saw the vision of completing my first marathon going down the proverbial tubes. And heck, it still may. My longest post-injury run was only 8 miles. Last time I checked, that was a lot less than 26.2. So I've got a long way to go. I'm on week 7 of Hal Higdon's Marathon Training Guide (Novice 1), which means I'm 11 weeks away from The Rock. Pray for me. In the meantime, I'll be doing the robot.