I run for Oiselle

I’ve talked before about how much I love Oiselle. I can’t help it–I just can’t resist a company that was founded by a woman, makes a great product, and remains committed to its ideals. That’s why I’m proud to say that I’m a Team Oiselle athlete. To quote from the Oiselle athletes page,

The women who represent Oiselle are strong, resilient, inspiring runners whose healthy, pure love of the run can’t be ignored. Our team is a versatile group of women with different backgrounds, accomplishments and goals, all striving to run with all their strength, heart and talent.

This is a team of incredibly accomplished female runners. When I hear about their PRs and goals, I can’t help but look around and wonder how I managed to find my way into the group. Then I remind myself that I’m also aspiring to run with all my strength, heart, and talent. Speed, PRs, and accomplishments are secondary to love of the sport, and fortunately, I have plenty of that.

This weekend I’m running the Brooklyn half-marathon, which will be my first race as part of the Team. I’m looking forward to putting on my Oiselle singlet and distance shorts and run my little heart out. I hope I can make my team proud!

Junk Miles

Junk For the Punks^ - NARA - 533966

Junk For the Punks^ - NARA - 533966 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’ve been thinking a lot about junk miles, or junk mileage (whatever you prefer to call it) lately. I’m not sure why it’s on my mind–maybe because I haven’t really been running according to any sort of schedule lately and as a result none of my runs haven’t had an assigned “purpose”. On Friday, I didn’t feel like running but I knew that I’d feel good if I did, so I decided to play by the 10-minute rule. I ended up doing 2.6 miles. Do they fall into the category of junk mileage?

The idea behind junk miles is that they don’t really move you toward a specific goal. They aren’t long runs, they’re not speed work, they’re not tempo training, they’re just a few miles that you may throw into your week somewhere in order to hit a mileage goal. So if I run 20 miles one week, and 12 of those miles were done during my long run, the other 8 are just sort of, well, junk, right?

Wrong. There’s no such thing as junk mileage. How could  it possibly exist? Even if you don’t set yourself up so that each run has a specific function, that doesn’t mean that the miles themselves aren’t beneficial. Trying to argue that any non-specific, easy mileage you do is junk is like saying that it would be the same as doing no mileage at all. After all, junk is pointless. It has no purpose. Junk mileage would have to fit that definition.

Some people argue that when you’re running high mileage weeks, you inevitably have junk runs. They’re the runs you do to fit a few extra miles in, or “shake it out”. I’ve thought a lot about this, and ultimately I just find it confusing. As long as you’re running, you’re moving forward both literally and figuratively. If you’re adding a short run to your week to increase your mileage volume, that run is still going to play a role in improving your overall performance. Even if you think of it as a “recovery run”*, you’re spending time on your feet and helping your body to adapt to working through fatigue and stress. No junk there. Additionally, if you really think the miles you’re running are junk, then why run them?

It boils down to the fact that every run has a purpose. It’s not necessary to push yourself over the top every single time you lace up your shoes and hit the pavement. In fact, doing so is pretty likely to lead to overtraining and plateauing. A short run of 2-3 miles at an easy pace isn’t a waste of time, or just something you do to hit a certain number of miles in a week, it’s a valuable way to spend time on your feet and ensure that you continue to challenge yourself and improve as a runner.

*For more about the myth of the recovery run, I recommend this extremely informative article by Matt Fitzgerald.

 

Are You Calling Me a Liar?

Truth or Consequences

Truth or Consequences (Photo credit: kxlly)

A couple weeks ago, a friend of a friend hooked me up with a sports psychologist-in-training. She’s working on getting her clinical hours completed, so she’s started counseling. Because I have awesome connections was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time, I’ve started meeting with her for an hour, once a week. It’s been eye-opening. I mean, I knew I had some baggage when it came to running in general, and setting and achieving goals in particular. She was able to identify this about me within the first ten or so minutes of our speaking.

During our second session, we talked about the runner I see myself as being versus the runner I really am. In what may come as a shock (or not, if you’re really paying attention), when I envision myself as a runner, I am much more committed, consistent, and capable than I really am. The thing is that it’s not a question of confidence, it’s more a question of denial. I set my goals and establish my expectations based on what the ideal runner should be doing (according to me, anyway) instead of what’s going to help me to progress and move forward at the right pace. The result is that I end up stuck in a pattern of setting high expectations and then feeling discouraged when I can’t meet them. The trick is that in order to break that pattern, I have to be honest with myself and accept the runner I am right now.

After that major revelation, I started to wonder if I could apply the same principle to other parts of my life. Was I trying to lie to myself about other things, or was running the exception? The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I am a complete and total liar! Okay, maybe not liar, since that implies intentional and even malicious deception–let’s say I am truth-averse. I am completely and totally truth-averse! Examples of my truth-aversion:

  • I am not hungry right now [said over my growling stomach], I just ate [lunch, three hours ago].*
  • Why do I always feel so thirsty? I drink plenty of water!
  • Yeah, I eat really well most of the time [which means I am heavily reliant on bread and dairy, with vegetables and fruit being mostly secondary and sometimes completely omitted]
  • I am not tired [even though I don't have the energy to do anything]!
  • I do yoga regularly [I can't remember the last time I did yoga more than once a week, and I certainly can't remember the last time I did it even once a week for several weeks in a row]

Erm. It’s a little bit embarrassing to admit all that, which is probably why this is the first time I’ve really let myself do it. But I’m pretty sure that if I keep on living the life of someone I’m not, I’m going to remain pretty unhappy. I think it’s time to start being honest, and accepting that it’s okay to make decisions based on what’s actually true instead of what I wish were true. It’s a pretty radical idea, I know, but I’m going to try it. Don’t even try to stop me.

 

*I should note that I’m sitting here writing this thirsty and hungry.

 

The Rut Returns

Sitting here at my computer, I’m realizing that it could be worthwhile for me to start keep track of the times when I feel like I’ve fallen into a rut. Is there a pattern? Am I in a rut so often that what I think of as a rut is actually my normal?

Maybe I should start tracking from here. Note to self: it’s April 16. I’m in a rut.

I started reading this article to see if it would have any useful tips, but I don’t really feel like it applies to what I’m feeling. I don’t feel depressed, I just feel kind of indifferent to a lot of things. There are things I’m unhappy about, and there are a lot of things I wish I were doing differently, but at the same time, I’m not doing them.

The good news is that this rut is slightly different from my previous ones in that I’m still running regularly. I may be in a bit of a mileage rut, stuck at 20-25 miles a week when I’d like to increase that a bit more, but overall I can’t really complain. In the past, my running has gone out the window the minute the rut has set in.

This is usually the point at which I declare my intention to take on some sort of challenge in an attempt to artificially move beyond whatever it is that’s holding me back. I always figure that some degree of accountability will help me to stick with the challenge, and it never does. I drop the challenge almost as soon as I set out to do it, and then I end up dwelling on the fact that I’ve failed yet again to bust out of my rut and make any sort of positive change.

Instead of trying to provide myself with some sort of artificial sense of accomplishment and forward movement, this time around I’m just going to see what happens if I just accept the rut for what it is. Maybe it will take me to some sort of natural resolution; maybe it will help me to develop a more narrow view of what I want to be doing in place of being in a rut; maybe it won’t provide me with any insight whatsoever. All I know is that the things I’ve tried in the past have failed, and that might mean it’s time to try something new.

So I’ll be here, hanging in my rut. Feel free to drop in and keep me company any time you like.

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I said, “Brr, it’s cold in here!”

Ordinary hexagonal dendrite snowflake, highly ...

Ordinary hexagonal dendrite snowflake, highly magnified. Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Let’s go from talking about shorts and warm weather to talking about the post-run deep freeze phenomenon! The weather’s been all over the place lately, so I feel like my blog topics might as well be, too. There’s something zen in there, right? Being in harmony with nature?

A couple weeks ago, putting on shorts triggered all kinds of unhappy body image demons for me; yesterday, they let me off the hook as far as emotional pain is concerned, and I wish I could say the same for physical pain. To be fair, I can’t put all the blame on my shorts, especially since I’m the one who forgot to put on Body Glide before heading out for a long run. My inner left thigh is still a very, very angry red color and the pain is not something I will soon forget. As you can imagine, I was incredibly relieved to be able to wear a pair of capris on my run this morning. Was I totally pain free? No. Did I at least feel better than I did at the end of my run yesterday? Yes.

Unfortunately, wearing capris on a run is, in my case, a sign that the temperature has dropped (usually into the 40s although I do sometimes wear them when it’s in the 50s. Capris are my favorite), and when the temperature outside drops, the temperature in my body seems to go with it. Whenever it’s on the cool side, I have to be extra careful about how long I spend exposed to the elements once I’ve stopped running. Not long after I finish running, my lips begin to turn a rather disturbing shade (unless you enjoy looking like a corpse), my skin gets covered in goosebumps, and my body starts shivering convulsively. I’ve gotten used to it at this point, but as I sit here describing it, I realize it sounds a little bit scary. On days when it’s cold, my post-run routine includes taking a hot shower and piling on layers of warm, dry clothing. If I can, I’ll get under a few blankets. Sometimes I’ll drink some tea as well. It can take a couple hours for the chills to go away.

Is this normal?

Honestly, I have no idea. Judging by the fact that I was approached by a race volunteer after my first marathon and told I should probably get medical attention because I looked hypothermic, I sort of think it might not be. But apparently it’s not that far from normal, so that’s comforting, right? The Internet is surprisingly deficient when it comes to the relationship between exercise and body temperature; however, I was able to find an article (albeit a short one) that offers an explanation as to what causes the body temperature drop:

After you stop exercising, the rate at which your body produces heat decreases, while the mechanisms you use to dissipate heat remain in operation until your core temperature returns to its normal level. Your core temperature doesn’t drop below normal levels, however, unless another health condition is involved. Normal resting core temperatures can range from 97.7 to 99.5 degrees Fahrenheit. It may take a little time before elevated temperature during exercise returns to normal.

I’m not doctor, but this seems plausible. On the other hand, I want to believe that a drop in body temperature is 100% normal and absolutely nothing to worry about–I mean, who wants to find out that there’s something wrong with them? Not me, anyway. Is it possible that since I’m normally pretty cold (it’s not unusual for my hands and feet to feel cold as ice, even in the summer) I’m just more susceptible to chills after a run?

Oddly enough once it gets warm out, I feel like I never stop sweating during and after a run. It’s entirely possible that my body just likes living on the edge, and I’ll always be a woman of extremes. It would be nice if those extremes didn’t involve either chattering teeth or dripping sweat, though.

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