Conquering the dreadmill

It's every runners worst dream: motivation is diminishing and the cold is only making it harder to drag your ass out of bed.

Then it appears, the single tredmill covered in dust in a corner. They offer many things, but inspiration and an exciting view just isn't one of them.

Sadly, when the cold arrived and my workload grew mountainous, it became hard to run; to find the time to head outdoors and breathe. But down the hall from my boyfriends apartment, is a small home gym. Completely equipped with a single tredmill, small incline plane and as many weights as one could possibly need.

I am back. My athletic, motivated, get-up-off-the-couch-no-matter-what-the-weather self, has returned. While the indoor gym is not the best solution, it is providing an outlet for my energy and gives me a chance to de-stress in a safe and healthy environment. I've been pre-occupied, as my readers may have noticed, and became swamped with work — completely unable to function as there was no way to get away from it. But here it is, black and a little clunky in a small, closet of a room.

Lately, for the past two weeks, I have started exercising for 30 minutes to an hour every day. The workouts vary slightly each day, just to keep things interesting. Music blares in the background from a specially chosen playlist of upbeat and fun songs that will keep my energy pumping.

Here's how the workout usually goes:

Tredmill: 2 x 15 minutes high intensity.

Squats: 2 x 20 (don't wanna be too sore)

Crunches on incline plane: 4 x 20 (surprising how little the amount is but how sore you'll be the next day)

and

Push ups: 2 x 20 (I have a messed up rotor cuff and am not supposed to do push ups)

The push ups are interesting, normally I wouldn't do them as they damage my shoulder but I've added an interesting twist. In the gym is a small weighted ball, similar to a balance ball but smaller than a medicine ball. Putting one hand on it, and the other on the ground, I'll do one push up; then while in plank position, roll it to the other hand, procede to do another push up with the second hand on the ball and first on the ground. It's quite a balancing act.

We'll see how this workout goes, I've just signed up for a Resolution Run with Tri and Run Sports on January 1. That'll be the test for the tredmill workout. This is one race that I will not miss.

Back at it...kinda

I'm sorry everyone, I've been gone for way too long from the sport of running. While excuses are a pain and not necessary, I've been swamped with work and have been in the newsroom for a minimum of 12 hours a day.

But enough of that. I have been away from the running world for the past two and a half weeks and because of it, I wasn't able to train for a race yesterday.

After Nov. 15 when I ran the Fat Ass Trail Run, I felt so good that I immediately registered for the Egg Nog Jog. The Egg Nog Jog didn't cost anything, simply a donation to Coats for Kids was sufficient. I didn't mind giving up the $5 that I had put forward, but I was disappointed with the lack of training I had done.

It's amazing how quickly your life can become derailed when work begins to pile up. It's not even piling up because of procrastination. It's all just being handed to me and needs to be done in a short period of time.

But yesterday, when I was supposed to be at my Egg Nog Jog, I hopped on a tredmill and ran for the first time. I only did 20 minutes on the tred mill but it made me feel like I was actually doing something. Along with that, I did a few squats with weights and an ab workout.

To continue my renewed love of running, I went again today. It's been extremely cold lately and I haven't the time to get out first thing in the morning, it's too dark, cold and unsafe to go out. Luckily, in my boyfriend's place, there is a tredmill that rarely gets used.

Last night, I searched the internet for different tredmill workouts that would give me a challenging work out and make it possible for me to begin running out doors again when it warms up. I found, frog in a boiling pot.

Yes, frog in a boiling pot. Something about adding .5 to your level of speed every 2 minutes. Apparently, the person will adjust to the speed after one minute, become comfortable with it, and soon be running at a pace they never thought possible.

I decided to try this theory out this morning. Starting at a normal walk, about speed 3.0 and escalated up to a 6. It's interesting how each tredmill changes what speed their levels actually run at. Some tredmills I can run at level 10, others like the one this morning, I was booking it at level 6.

It felt good, amazing to be running at that speed and feeling like the only person in the world at that very moment.

After working up to level 6, I slowly lowered the levels back down to 3.5, took a drinking break while continueing. After a short refresher, I went straight back up to 6 for another couple minutes.

Once that was finished, I had worked up quite a sweat, and went directly to some ab exercises.

I look forward to doing it all again tomorrow.

Recovery Run

Today was my recovery run, as my muscles have been complaining non-stop for the past couple of days. It's no wonder really, just a nuisance that after 14.5K they would be upset with me for the exercise.

Instead of laying back and resting, I went for a recovery run. 4.5K along a relatively flat, paved track beside the water. It's beautiful really, but repetitive and can get very boring after the first lap. The scenery never changes, so I only run there when I'm absolutely desperate.

I started out, cold and shivering but stubborn to run. My gloves, I have found, are a huge staple in making a great run. If my hands are cold, then that is all I will think of throughout the run. It becomes tedious and unenjoyable. Thanks for buying them Dad!

I wanted to start out quickly, but not so quickly that I would burn out before the end. I was probably 30 seconds slower than I ran with the group last night. It was a nice brisk pace, pushing the envelope a little but not enough to inflame my lungs. Looking at the calm water beside me, I realized I left my water bottle in the car... and that I had to pee.

I'm a little disappointed with myself. My running is enjoyable, I love it. But I find that I become winded to easily, no matter what pace I go out at. I know it is partially due to my lung infection, but I should be healing by now.

I made it halfway, feeling confident I continued on, completely the second half of the figure eight track.

I stopped quickly, a little fearful. The running track surrounds a dog park, it is fenced in and a good distance from the track, but in the middle of it nonetheless. A medium sized dog barked wildly at the fence, jumping up and down while snarling at something on my side. It seemed to be looking at me. It would jump, put its paws on the fence and come very close to vaulting completely over. I tried to avert my eyes, taking a walking break and continue along. It was acting savagely due to a squirrel on a nearby tree.

I had finished the second half by now, and was approaching my car. Grabbing the water bottle left behind, I took a deep swig before throwing the bottle violently to the ground. The water was disgusting! The worst I have ever had, tasting as it smelled, like fecal matter. I sprayed the water over the ground and headed back to the track. The figure eight I had just completed measures to 3K, not quite enough for my liking. So, I did half of another loop.

My grand total for the night was 4.5K in 30 minutes, which is really good for me. I felt 100% better than I had when I first started and was glowing because I had pushed my limping self out for a 30 minute run, when others would have rested.

Oh wow.

Today was the first day after running that Fat Ass that I was actually up and walking around the entire day. Yesterday didn't count, I was in bed most of the day. But today, I was fully active. I awoke this morning and felt like a cripple.

My legs had stiffened more than I had thought they would and it was a surprise to nearly fall getting out of bed. Stretching briefly, I felt better, still crippled, but better. I slept in, having no time for a shower and raced off to school.

I couldn't leave the newsroom until 4:30, and I had to meet the running group at 5:30. This left no time for dinner. I drove as fast as legally possible to my boyfriends where dinner was waiting, scarfed down some food and bolted out the door again. I felt terrible for dine and dashing, but it had to be done.

I was nervous going to the running group, I hadn't been there since September. It was a different time, new people and darker sky. It started out rocky, unsure of which path the group would choose to take. My calves were screaming, they were not completely happy with the running that was about to take place.

The group broke into three groups: a slower group, a faster/longer group and my group. An older woman ran with me, and she matched my brisk pace easily, even pushing the envelope a little. We ran with the faster/longer group until our halfway mark, when they decided to branch off and go further.

My lungs were screaming almost as loudly as my sore muscles were. I had to stop more often than made me happy, but we finished with a great time.

The route we chose had three hills, well four but one was tiny. We crossed two bridges, forcing us to a brisk walk to conquer them. I was too weak to give the hills a thorough beating, and it didn't help that I forgot my water for the night. It completely slipped my mind.

Magically we made good time, running 7K in 45 minutes which is a PR for me.

Recovery run tomorrow night.

The Day after...dun dun dunn

As my blog yesterday will attest to, I just ran the Fat Ass Trail Run of 2009. I had a feeling that today would be a wreck, but I had no idea it would be anything like this.

My lung infection flared up yesterday during the race, causing me to take my medicine to get rid of the infection. The medicine is extremely high-dosage, high in codeine and makes me a little loopy, so I usually don't take it unless necessary.

Yesterday, I felt it was necessary as I could not breathe. There is only a couple of doses left in the bottle, so I figured it would be okay and that my reaction wouldn't be too terrible.

I couldn't get to bed until three this morning, and only managed to sleep for two hours. It felt like I was on crack, my entire body was shaking, I felt like there were creepy-crawling things all over me and I just felt itchy. Besides the fact that I was exhausted, it was like I had had twenty cups of coffee. I was wired.

This morning I awoke from my, short nap, and felt okay. So I got dressed, checked some emails and fell directly back into bed. It was like I was drunk, or had been drunk.

The effects I had from the run yesterday were minimal, my hips were a little sore. Feet a little tender and calves a little clenched, but everything else was fine. I should be up and running today, if I hadn't taken that damn medicine.

From now on I'm going to do this my way. I like to take care of things, the natural way, not taking medication and putting unnatural things into my body. Clearly, I would've been better off my way.

Fat Ass Trail Run

Let me start off by apologizing now for the stress that will invariably come from reading this post.

In September, very early September I signed up for a race called the Fat Ass Trail Run. There are 3 divisions, 7.5K, 17.5K and the 25K. The race took place today, Nov 15, on the Batawa Ski Hill. I knew the race would be tough, so I signed up for the 7.5K which would still be the longest I have ever raced. Upon registering, I was informed that the race actually goes up the ski hill and is considered one of the toughest races in November.

Honestly, I thought I would have tons of time to prepare for the event. But as I stated a few blogs back, I fell ill and my training came to a sudden and screeching halt. While I am not taking my medication regularly anymore, my lung infection is still causing many problems.

This morning I awoke with the mantra, "It doesn't matter how quickly you finish, or whether you even run the entire thing. Just finish." I have run a handful of times in the past two weeks, and have not improved my air capacity. With this in mind, I knew that I would finish, I'm too proud not to finish. I'm too proud to not run even though I'll be in terrible shape during, after and for the next day.

It was foggy when I awoke, though warm. I put on my usual running attire, leggings and a long-sleeved pink base layer shirt. My trail running shoes fit beautifully this morning.

Arriving at the Batawa Ski Hill chalet, the buidling was packed with runners, stretching and preparing for whichever race they signed on for. The mentality was calm, rather than the usual chaos I have experienced at other races.

The race began at 10, when we all packed into the driveway of the chalet and ran behind a four-wheeler. The four-wheeler guided us down the road, away from the ski hill for half a kilometre before looping back around. Then the race truly began and I already felt like dying. Though I physically felt fine, my lungs just could not get me the air that I required. Disappointed but not giving up, I walked/ jogged slowly up the steep incline of the ski hill. My calves burned, shoulder stiffening and breathing ragged. I wasn't sure if I was going to make it, and yet only 1.5K in.

I made it to the first checkpoint, running slowly along the beautiful hilltop trail. It was just like i was running at Goodrich Loomis, where I usually run.

A man passed me, going in the opposite direction. Concerned, I stopped and asked if he was injured, as he had a pained expression. He had gone out too fast and his heart monitor began going off. He didn't finish the race and went back to the chalet.

The next obstacle was going downhill, you had to go snail slow, carefully placing each foot so you didn't slide on something loose beneath the blanket of leaves. A marker on the side of the hill proclaimed 'Tuck and Roll."

A woman slid down the hill accidentally, rolling her ankle.

The next area of the course was a grassy field, turned swampland. The area must have been 20ft by 50ft of thick, murky water with a muddy bottom. The water wasn’t deep, just not something i wanted to go through with the race to finish.

A path had been cut in tall grass following the outskirts of the ‘puddle’. Others had gone that way, so that way I went. It didn’t work out. I ended up with soaked feet and mud surrounding my ankles. Finally on dry land, I shook both feet, sending fans of water in either direction.

I started to cough. The coughing came hard, as I hadn’t pushed my lungs like this while still having the infection.

Before I continue, I should say one thing. My mother had been thoughtful, and bought me pre-mixed, high protein drinks called Boost. The vanilla flavour really isn’t that bad, but for someone who is potentially lactose-intolerant, they weren’t great.

The coughing turned violent, the violent turned into vomiting. All over the tall grass I spewed, retasting the Boost that I really didn’t like in the first place. Luckily I had gotten it off the track, and continued on.

I came to the second checkpoint, and was informed that I was not last. I was so relieved, and awestruck. Looking back, I couldn’t see anyone behind me, they must have been moving at a glacial speed.

I thought about asking him whether or not I was on the right path, I hadn't seen any signs dividing the course amongst the three lengths and was worried that I was actually doing the longer ones. It definitely felt like I had done 15K instead of 5K. I was on the correct path, I caught up with one woman, who appeared to be just as slow as I was. She said she did the run last year and it was the same course, we weren't lost.

I stayed with her the rest of the run, my lungs were on fire and breathing very laboured, with her rolled ankle we made a great pair. She was great company, seeing as we only had another kilometre to go, at most, she was very knowledgeable about the course. It was sparsly marked through this last part and with her leading the way, it went quickly.

The final leg of the race was downhill, as it only made sense that the beginning was climbing the monstrous ski hill. I always like to make a hard ending on the races I do, no matter how rough of shape I am in. Running down the ski hill and curving toward the chalet I could hear my younger cousin yelling "Go, go, go" from the finish line. I have been trying to expose her to the non-competitive side of running, the side that encourages friendships to be formed and walking through races. The side that is for pure enjoyment.

I ended the race, weazing and jello-legged in 70 minutes. While 7.5K in 70 minutes is not a good time, 7.5K up a ski hill, with a severe lung infection, and having not run in the past two weeks, 70 minutes felt amazing.

My goal had been to finish under 90 minutes, and I had done that. Next year, under 60.

Run ending with a grocery bag filled with mushrooms.

My run this afternoon had been scheduled to be with my cousin, but after calling her house, I decided to go alone. I didn't mind, with my lung infection lingering about, I feel wimpy having to stop constantly to stop my throat from closing in. I know, it's not a wimpy reason, but having to stop so many times sucks.

It was the perfect time of the day to run, besides first thing in the morning, the sun was halfway done the sky, just above the peaks of the trees.

I bundled up, putting on two shirts with my leggings and gloves. The air hurt going through my throat, feeling like a huge ice clump that stopped my breathing before it could start. During my short walking breaks, placing my gloved hair before my mouth and nose helped to warm the air before I inhaled it, this helped me recover quicker.

I feel that I am recovering, my lung infection is still there, but I was able to run more than my last attempt. It actually felt like my best run yet, 4K and only had to stop 5 times due to my coughing.

It was muddy and cold, though the one perk was that the strenuous uphill sections, were dry as a bone... err dirt path.

Finishing the run I felt amazing, rejuvenated by the first decent run since falling ill.

Walking back to my car, an elderly couple was ahead of me. Running up to them, I began chatting with the couple and found that they had walked a small trail in the conservation area to collect wild mushrooms. They ended up with an entire grocery bag of mushrooms.