July 10 - 16

Sun - 6 miles total with 4.13 mile race
Mon - 6 miles, evening run, really really hot
Tue - 0 miles
Wed - 6 miles lunchbreak
Thur - 6 miles in the morning, omg my sis arrives today!!!
Fri - 8:30am spin class with my sis - it was killer
Sat - 6 miles + core and foam rolling. Got a new timex watch which I'm really excited about - my old one was almost 6 years old and the velcro strap had seen better days, to say the least.
Total: 30

Going on vacation this week so hoping to get some long leisurely runs in as well as some general relaxation.

I'm Not Crazy...

Proof that running really is responsible for turning me into a positive, calm, life-loving fool:

http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/07/06/why-exercise-makes-us-feel-good/?ref=health

July 3 - 9

Sun - 7 miles + core and some weights and foam rolling - I really can't believe that piece of foam's ability to  inflict serious amounts of pain
Mon - 6 miles + foam rolling - didn't hurt any less
Tue - 0 miles, skipped track - tired, tired, tired.
Wed - 2nd PT session in the am: lots of lunges, squats, core, weights, etc. Meant to run in the evening, but it was hot and I was tired - I hope I'm not getting lazy.
Thur - 6 miles am, why don't I run in the morning more often? It's such a wonderfully amazing way to start the day.
Fri - 0 miles, bbq preparation
Sat - 6 miles am + foam rolling: Sangria seemed like a better idea last night than it did when I woke up this morning
Total: 25

Not many miles for the week, but I'll excuse it because, really, who cares. Am I getting lazy?

I can't believe I displayed such a bad attitude (above) on my beloved blog this morning. I'll blame it on the sangria. Of course I care how many miles I run a week, isn't that what this blog is all about??

Squantam 5 Miler: I Like Doing This

After doing weights on Wednesday I was unsure as to whether I wanted to run this race or not, and hadn't made a firm decision until about 1:00 yesterday afternoon when my boss came to my desk to say that the weather outside was absolutely perfect and that I would be crazy not to go. I agreed with her and started getting excited about the race. I rode down to Quincy with Zani, Doug, and Deb, and we arrived with enough time to register, warm-up, stretch, and do some striders before the start. I started out at a pretty quick pace with Zani and Tom, but before we even hit the 1 mile mark I started chasing the women ahead of me. On the first hill I passed 2 women that had been ahead of me for the first mile and a half or so, and I then proceeded to chase down 2 other women throughout the hilly section. One was a 14 year old girl who was tall and thin and looked made to run, and the other was a strong looking woman about my height probably in her mid-thirties. I caught the (relatively) older woman first and, not content to be passed, she ran with me until we caught the younger girl.  As soon as we caught up to her I pulled away from both of them, exchanging breathless pleasantries (gasp, good, gasp, job girls, gasp) in the process. I was feeling good at that point, and right afterwards I passed the halfway point of the race. The course continued along the water for a bit and we were running into the wind when I started to feel tired/ lazy, having felt like I had done what I wanted to do in passing the two women ahead of me. I instinctively knew, however, that the older of the two women I had just passed would be back to get me. I glimpsed her out of the corner of my eye during a turn probably 1.5 miles from the finish. She passed me with about 1 mile to go, and I spent the rest of the race trying to stay with her, all the while knowing that I wasn't going to be able to pass her again. I knew that we were the 2nd and 3rd women, so I was happy enough with that to just hang on for the finish. It was a painful race for me - I was feeling pain in my hip and my legs were tired and sore; towards the end I was ready to throw in the towel and call it a day. I kept thinking, "wait a minute, I like doing this? This is what I love to do? What's wrong with me??!!" I was able to run through it, though, with my usual inner dialogue of, "relax, stay strong, calm down, you got it, relax..." I finished in 33:47 with an average pace of 6:45, which I'm pleased with. The post-race party was out of control with free beer, hot dogs, a band, fireworks over Boston, of which we had a beautiful view from where we were on the marina, and lots of crazy runners. We spoke with a man who was the 20th person in the world to run a marathon on every continent. He was the kind of person who uses running as a means by which to live every moment of his life to the fullest. He told stories of staying up drinking shots until 3:00am, only to wake up two hours later to run a marathon. It may have been the beer, or the post-race high, or the beautiful view of my new city, which I am falling in love with, but it felt like things could not get any better than this. We raised our drinks to "extreme physical pain" or something like that, and, while I had planned on getting home early to do laundry (I can be pretty lame, sometimes), we stayed out until 10:30 celebrating. I got home an hour later and grabbed my journal to write down, through my drunken haze, "the best part of life is the part that involves running." I like doing this. This is what I love to do.