If you wanted to support me...

I just figured out my splits and locations, as close as I am likely to figuring them out. And here they are:
18 - 12:06:22 Turning onto Willamette from the St. John's Bridge
19 - 12:23:25 Willamette Blvd at Macrum Ave
20 - 12:40:24 Willamette Blvd just south of UofP
21 - 12:57:22 Saratoga & Willamette Blvd.
22 - 1:14:20 Detoured most likely onto Interstate Ave
23 - 1:30:49 Somewhere on Interstate
24 - 1:48:15 N. Interstate at Tillamook
25 - 2:04:53 On Front Ave coming to the Finish Line
26 - 2:21:52 On Salmon at First

a map of the route is here: www.portlandmarathon.org/info/map6.gif, and the flash movie is here: www.portlandmarathon.org/info/course.html.

please come cheer me on if you're here in Portland!

other excitement

Oh, and did you hear? Mt. St. Helens might blow again, in the next couple days? Wouldn't that make a memorable marathon? I guess I better go get a breathing mask, just in case, now!

3 days

Three days! I'm about to jump out of my skin!

By the way, that, to my right, is what I plan to wear to the marathon. In spite of the horrible lighting, the hat is white—and if I can help not wearing it, I won't be!

It's getting really hard now. Yesterday at work I got all stressed out, and contemplated my options. Usually, I could: go for a walk, go for a bike ride, go to the gym and lift heavy things or do the rowing or cross-country machine. I could: go for a hamburger and french fries with my darling. I could: drink a beer or a margarita, or two. But, I can't do any of those things right now! So I was left with dark chocolate. And giving some much needed attention to an old web project.

Today, I'm going to a fancy lunch with my coworkers. (A full report will be posted tonight on my other blog). I've decided that, if they have the tempura-ed green beans they are famous for on the menu, I must have them, avoidance of fried food or not. One must know where to be flexible.

In related news, I have not dyed my hair yet. I was about to do it last night when my darling pointed out that going out with the CEO with purple hair might not be appropriate. (Thank you!!)

I'm still stuck on this sending-out-emails thing, this time on telling people where to cheer me on. The problem is the route.

For slower participants after 12:00 noon an alternative certified route will be used for the last 4 miles of the course for reasons of safety.

But what is that alternative certified route? I know it involves Interstate Ave, but I don't know where we cut over to Interstate, and obviously, I don't know where the mile markers hit. So, how am I supposed to say, I'm going to be here at this time? Ack!

Thanks for all the well-wishing by the way! I need it!

4 days

I don't know how my sweetie can live with me. I don't know how my coworkers can stand me. All I can think about is the marathon, and I am just good for absolutely nothing else.

I didn't bike in this morning. I'm not sure if that's good or bad.

Last night, I was busy thinking about how crummy my knees felt, and thinking that perhaps the bicycling was going to be the ruin of my marathon. This morning, I read several posts in the forum about how this week, every little ache and pain becomes magnified into this awful, horrible thing that (you believe) will keep you from marathoning or marathoning well—but in fact, everything is going to be fine once you get yourself to the starting line. It's good advice for life in general.

Since I'm tapering, and I can't do anything to make the time move any faster, I'm obsessed with what I can do in the meantime. Like, for example, dying my hair. I decided a while back that I would dye my hair purple for the marathon. Once I bought the hair dye, I started to have second thoughts—what if it was permanent? am I, at 41, going to look ridiculous with purple hair? What if it ruins my 6-month old highlights and lowlights? Maybe I should just do streaks— but how stupid will that look?

(I need to just channel Clementine Kruczynski!)

This looms large for another reason, too. I've decided I am going to send out an email to friends in town that will have my expected times at expected mileposts and what I'll look like, so if people want to come cheer me on, particularly in my hour of need (miles 20-26), they can do so. Of course, I could take a picture of my PFit shirt and link to my skort and say I'll have purple hair and nails, and a grey hydration backpack... or I could take some pictures. And make it into a Flash movie (never mind that I've never done anything in Flash, but I've done video editing—how hard can it be?). Oh yeah, and send it all out by Friday. Do you hear the maniacal laughter?

I guess it's good to keep busy...

Comments, anyone?

I just had a dear friend mention to me that she might comment on my blog if she didn't have to become a Blogger member. Yikes! I just went into the settings and have reset this. Anyone can now comment. Please be nice. Or be funny... Thanks.

Failing Bridge

I just learned that Lance Armstrong got hit by a car, and then did a triathalon three days later. (I'm not worthy!)

I was running tremendously late this morning, so I decided to bike part of the way, and take MAX the rest. The route goes through the neighborhood, past the collision of gentification and poverty and black middle-class and drug wars--shack next to restored Craftsman next to modest, well-kept house. Coming home last night, I had passed a lot of cats--and a lot of female persons holding cats like babies. But the neighborhood seemed devoid of cats this am.

I'll cut to the chase--the best part of the ride was crossing the Failing Bridge, as it used to be called (now it's the Failing Ped. Bridge), named for Mayor Failing of Albina, which was incorporated into Portland in the early part of last century. The Failing Bridge does look like a particularly pathetic pedestrian bridge over I-5, though riding across it is fine--it's plenty substantial. To make things even better, I got up the ramp without stopping or walking, and I very quickly caught the MAX.

I'm still reading Mike Magnuson's Heft on wheels: a fieldguide to doing a 180. I just got to the part where he's riding with his cycling group and can't keep up, and someone remarks that he's too slow to ride with the group, which spurs all kinds of self-improvement. Honestly, it makes me feel a little hopeless. Here's this guy--my age, my weight--who has been cycling all of his life--and he can't keep up with the group. And here I am, finding it hard to ride up very slight inclines. Yikes.

The weird thing is, I do like it. I wish that I wasn't so publically demonstrating my lack of bicycling prowess on a practically daily basis, but I'm still compelled to do it. When I'm not thinking about the marathon, I'm thinking about how I could put my old bike on rollers. Have I lost my mind?

No changes

5 days. 5 days. 5 days.

I have my splits printed out, and attached to my monitor. That's really about it for stuff that I'm doing, other than just always thinking about the marathon.

The rule of thumb for marathons is: change nothing. I, surprise surprise, am being driven slowly insane by the thought of changing nothing, so I am making two diet changes this week.

1. No alcohol.


2. No deep fried food.

Part of this is about treating my body like the precision instrument it is. Part of this is about hoping to not gain weight during the taper. There should be another part, but I think it's really just the two.

I am well-hydrated. I am a sleep athlete....

I'm not as strong as I thought

Okay, I just went to the gym to find out if I could bench press 120 lbs, and the answer is: no. So much for that idea...

6 days

... 'til the marathon! 6 days!!

I biked in today and it really was very pleasant. Just a nice quiet Portland morning, full of people walking dogs and cats walking themselves, and not many cars. Then I went to the gym and did my upperbody work, which brings me to a question:

In the Portland Marathon, you can sign up for Clydesdale and Bonnydale if you meet those criteria (eg, are not skinny-skinny). An option within that is the Pump and Run, where you bench press a certain amount of weight (in my case, 120 lbs) at the Expo. So... is there any benefit at all to doing the Pump and Run? I looked at last year's results, which were broken down by age and weight--and saw nothing about the Pump and Run whatsoever. Or is this just for your own personal bragging rights (which is nothing to cough at!)?

Anyways, I couldn't remember the number of pounds, so I did do the bench press but only at 60 lbs. Can I do 120? Does it matter?

Hood to Coast

An amusing (and by the sounds of things, true) story about running the Hood to Coast relay by Portland pop-culture dude/tte M.E. Russell can be found here:

splits

This morning as I was drinking my coffee, I saw a post on the PFit forum about making a wristband with your marathon pace. It included a link to an application on Marathon Guide that created a very elegant wristband -- but of course, that wristband doesn't take into account the St. John's Bridge at mile 17.

So I decided to find the splits generator at the Portland Marathon site, which isn't as pretty as Marathon Guide's, but would be more realistic. The link is really hard to find. On it, it has you enter your goal time and three recent race performances.

The rule of thumb I've heard of is twice your half-marathon pace plus 10 or 15 minutes. This puts me at a little over 8 hours, which I just can't bear. So I decided to put in the unrealistic goal of 7 hours 45 minutes. I entered a couple three race times, and hit the submit form button, and it came up with the goal times, and the predicted times. I fully expected the predicted times to be, well, at least 15 minutes later than the goal times--but in fact, it was 10 minutes earlier--7:35. By golly!

If I input the time for my 21 miler--7:25. Oh my gosh, that's way too good to be true. Of course, we will see what happens--and perhaps if I can manage to start out slowly, I can end fast. That's my goal.

I just want to go out and run around. I am going to look for an appropriate halloween costume for the dog and hope that wears me out a little.

saturday

The last session of PFit for this year. I haven't been sad, because I feel like it will go on, in different forms, until next year. And it will. I walked 5 miles as a sprint, in 78 minutes (15.6 minute/miles), and felt great during and afterwards.

On the way home, I was laundry-listing all the stuff I could do--bike downtown to take pictures, jog with the dog, bicycle over to the Polish Festival--something, anything, go-go-go! For the last couple weekends, I didn't have a free moment, and now, I just want to move because I know I shouldn't.

In a moment between meetings yesterday, I decided to see if there was a Detroit marathon, and of course there is, and it's coming right up. I immediately started thinking about how much fun it would be to do the Detroit Marathon, until I read the finer print that the finish line closes under 7 hours from the start. Maybe next year I can do a marathon under 7 hours, but this year, I'll be happy to finish under 8. They offer a half-marathon as well (which is sold out for this year). Maybe next year! Yeah, next year in Detroit!

rest day

It's Friday, and it feels like Friday. I am so ready for the week to be over. The marathon is 9 days away. Tomorrow, I'll walk 5 miles. All I can think about is the marathon.

Part of it is this impatience for the marathon to be over. I'm not supposed to change anything before or on marathon day -- of course, suddenly, I want to take up jogging, I want to do speedwork, I want to start running stairs. I feel like, in a way, that everything is on hold.

I need suggestions. I've heard that you should try to make yourself look distinctive in a large event like this (Portland is expecting 9000-10,000 runners and walkers) -- so what does that mean? Should I personalize my shirt? Decorate my hydration backpack? Create sharpie tattoos? What do you do?

it all helps

I ended up taking a shower and washing my hair right before bed last night. I woke up this morning and caught a glance of myself as I was passing to the toilet -- I looked like Lyle Lovett! My hair was a sculpted, curly mess on top of my head. I rather liked it -- but today is a dress-up day for work so I smashed it all down.

Well, after a friend and a complete stranger telling me I needed to get my seat adjusted, I finally took it to heart. As I was pathetically pedalling down a flat section of street, working way too hard, I jumped off the bike and took a look at the seat post (I'm sure there's a technical term for this, but I'm not there yet) -- low and behold, adjustable! So I cranked it up about an inch. That helped! But it still wasn't where it should be. So I brought it up another half an inch, and voila, me and my bike seem to be less at odds.

That said, the steel bridge bike/ped path was up, so I took the Esplanade over to the Hawthorne Bridge, and I did end up getting almost to the top of a ramp and then walking. But, I am hopeful that soon I will post about bicycling and not include the word pathetic.

My upper body has felt different since I've been biking. Like, tighter. Right now, my right arm pleasantly aches, and I can actually see some muscle definition. I have some thigh and back acheyness too, which pleases me. My hot shower this morning felt so good!

so much for optimism

You know, sometimes my optimism just makes me sick!!

I had a long work day, productive but vaguely stressful. I didn't do my upperbody workout, and I almost didn't ride home. I left work about an hour late, and thought, 'I think I have a good excuse to take the train home'.

So I go to the train stop about two blocks away from work and wait. It's 5:27, the train is supposed to be there at 5:27, there's no train in sight. So I take this as a message from providence and start biking home. Maybe I'll just catch the train from Rose Quarter, yeah. So, I do better on the ramp than I have, but I still don't make it up in one fell swoop, and I'm almost hit twice while I'm in the bike lane. I think about the fact that I'm 41, way overweight, and swearing like a sailor at cars -- doesn't look good, does it?

So, I stop (again) at the train stop. There are about 7 gazillion people waiting there, perhaps a 1/4 of them with bicycles. Anyways, for some reason, there are crossing guards at this train stop, so I ask how late the train is (it's now 5:57). Oh, the crossing guard doesn't know, but he'd like to chat about the bike, and gosh, I need to get that seat raised tout suite cuz that just can't be comfortable. Another crossing guard admits that it's been well over 45 minutes since the last train, but I could take the #1, and, oh—there it is, it's driving by. Then, we hear that there's some hold up and the train will be another couple minutes.

Another call from providence saying, VJ, get your lazy butt in gear. So I start riding home. First, uphill through the crowds going to the circus, and past the one sad, pathetic guy who's protesting, sorta, with a handwritten cardboard sign. Then finally into the neighborhood, and up the multitude of little pathetic hills. I'm not sure when I made it home. I ate, watched a TiVOed Daily Show and now I need to shower.

It's getting better. I have to hold onto that hope. I just wish it was getting better faster. I wish I had more stamina, more power. All things in time, I suppose.

a good ride

I've spent way too much space bellyaching about how hard the bike commute is... This morning, the commute in was beautiful. It felt good. I was out early enough that I didn't have a lot of traffic to contend with, and while it wasn't effortless or anywhere near it, it felt doable. Achievable.

Maybe that's the brilliance of the bike commute challenge -- it's taken 12 days of commuting for me to actually feel comfortable. My sense of competition has kept me coming back. This morning I thought in terms of myself as a bike commuter, as in, I need rain gear so I can continue biking in.

The ride back home is getting better too. I rode more hills and walked less.

Kittens Hailed As Key To Marathon Success

KITTENS - worshiped in many lands as the spirit animal of running and walking, they inspire, protect, and most of all love...albeit in a rather aloof way. Maybe "aloof" is the wrong word. COMPLETE! We have three adorable kittens to give away. They are playful, box/house trained, and most of all, come from a long line of marathoners... Good luck to everyone next week. (These companions would surely distract you from the taper jitters...they know no taper.)

- from the PFit forum

The last couple days have been a blur. Work's been crazed and chaotic and I've let it invade the rest of my life. Bicycle riding, however, brings me back to the present. Be here now. Watch for cars and car doors and cats. Try to make it up this pathetic little hill without panting. Say hi to other cyclists.

I'm seeing some small victories. It's getting easier -- not as fast as I'd like, but still. Today I dressed in old pants to come into work, rather than the bike skort or running shorts that I usually wear, and I felt like people were expecting less of me. Or maybe I was expecting less of me.

Yesterday I came part of the way home on the MAX train. I stood next to a bike messenger type with a flock of seagulls haircut. Nice bike, natch. I noticed a round donut-like bike lock on his bike frame so I asked him about it. He took it out of its holster and flipped it open in one fluid motion. Cool! It also has the kyptonite style circular lock, and may be as easy to open without a key. But it sure was cool looking.

Deadline met

What a relief. I just finished the mockups I have to present at work tomorrow. This was cutting it entirely too close, but I suspect this whole process is going to be a bunch of "hurry up & waits". I unfortunately caffeine-loaded this afternoon to ward off my post-race nap (well, okay, there was a post-race nap) drowsiness, and now, of course, I'm wide awake.

I can't believe the marathon is in two weeks. I can't believe it!

Yesterday, we had our second-to-last PFit session. We walked 7 miles, which was just so thoroughly pleasant. It's funny to realize that six months ago, 7 miles was a long way and it would be a big deal to walk it. Hell, just a couple years ago, I did the 5K walk at Race for the Cure with my sweetie, and we bagged it at the two-thirds point because we were tired and hungry.

There is this ease I'm particularly aware of after the PFit walk/runs where I just feel like I can chat with anyone there. I'm not terrifically outgoing, so this is kinda a big deal. There has been this bonding -- the group keeps getting smaller and smaller -- and it's obvious who is there every week. Perhaps part of this is because the marathon is looming large for so many of us -- and while we can talk to our friends and loved ones about it, they just don't know and can't know what this means. Why is this so important? I don't need to explain it to my PFit acquaintances.

As M. and I inhaled our post-walk breakfast this morning (nothing like a little race to make you hungry like a bear), we chatted about what races we walked to do this fall and winter. I'm already thinking about destination marathons, and I tried to pique her interest. She was a little more guarded -- "would you let me run my first marathon, please, before we start talking about the next one?" It's true -- maybe I'll hate that distance. It could happen.

Race for the Cure Stats

Komen Race for the Cure 5K Coed run
September 19, 2004
Portland, Oregon
3.1 miles
49:15
15.89 minute/mile pace

I'm really pleased.

My sweetie and I went out carousing last night -- we went to see American Beer. Rogue Brewery was pouring some of their own, so we had a couple American Ambers while watching the movie. The movie was definitely indie -- the sound was badly mastered, some parts were dark -- but really amusing. I drank a ton of water hoping to be in reasonably good shape for today. And it seems to have worked, in spite of some really really intense unpleasant dreams (the stalker-killer, the semi-automatic Jesus, and my sweetie sleeps with somebody else -- ack!)

We had a tremendously slow start (who knows how many thousands of participants, not organized by time at all), and I, in turn, started out too fast and was unable to get my heart rate below 72% for the first mile. The first mile was the only mile marked (argh!), so I managed to slow down and relax for the next mile or so, and picked it up once we were crossing the Burnside Bridge back into downtown. I passed lots of people, and had the requisite response. At least once in every fun run, I'll pass a young person who will then freak out that they were passed by a fat walker. They will then start running, and run for about 10 ft, and then stop so they are ahead of me again. This may happen several times. I almost invariably pass them again and cross the finish line in front of them, and I certainly did this time.

I wore my Run Against Bush shirt, and got no comments at all during or before the race. I thought, maybe this was just crass to be wearing a political t-shirt. But coming through the shute, everyone complimented me on the shirt.

After the race, I met up with M. and one of her friends to do the 5K women's walk. We did a 30 minute mile pace, mostly because it was so very crowded and bottle-necked. It's unpleasant to walk that slow!

There were tons of survivors there. That was cool and scary at the same time. I walked in celebration of my mom, an acquaintance, and two coworkers.

Now I'm tired. Unfortunately, my work still waits.

where's my endorphin rush?

I'm feeling a bit under the weather. I did my weight-training this am (no bike commute, however), and usually I'm feeling great about 10 minutes into it. Not today. I never did get my endorphin rush. Today's a rest day, so I shouldn't really seek out my rush somewhere else. Not that I really have the energy to.

Well, if I can't be doing it, I could at least be reading it, right? I'm still working on Slow Burn, Heft on Wheels, and Runner's world Complete Book of Women's Running, and keeping up with my favorite blogs and forums. And in a forum, I learned about the Zeitgeist Half Marathon:

Enjoy a scenic walk or run through the rolling hills of northwest Boise. The course features paved and dirt roads, six aid stations with water, Gatorade and 8 chances to sit down and relax in your own private privy.

After the half marathon recover with a bottle of Gatorade or Crystal Cascade bottled water...

I gotta appreciate a sense of humor! It sounds like a great event, if a little chilly (maybe I need to stock up on winter clothes...).

dreaming of walking

Bicycling is kicking my ass. That's good, I'm sure -- a different set of muscles, an opportunity to develop more heart and lung capacity, and a twice daily exercise in humility.

I met up with M. for dinner last night. We went to a popular Lebanese restaurant, completely full, elbow to elbow, of bohemians, punk rockers, and office folk -- an unusual mix. It was great to just hang with her and talk about training (or lack thereof this week), about the marathon (17 days away), about sport drink options, and about the Race for the Cure, which is Sunday. We're both doing the 5K Coed run, and then doing the 5K womens' walk afterwards. It was very cute -- she asked me if I wanted to run at the beginning with her. Someday, someday, I'll be ready for that -- but not now. Walking it will be enough for me this time.

Portland Marathon has changed its course sport drink -- we trained on Powerade, as they've been the sport drink in recent memory -- but now it's Ultima. M. gave me a packet to mix up -- she really did not care for it. Oh, I can't wait to try it (not).

As we were eating a meal that seemed to almost entirely consist of pita bread, we started chatting about the fact that we're supposed to taper food-wise as well as exercise-wise. Yeah, right! I think that in honor of the taper, I will give up my favorite carbohydrate of all -- beer. It's gonna hurt, I know it.

This morning, I was a slow starter. The time ticked by and I was still on the couch, no closer to riding the bike to work. By the time I finished my morning chores, I could have easily made an excuse not to ride in. But then, before I knew it, me and the bike were out in the street.

I'm coordinating my office's Bike Commute Challenge (BCC) so I feel I need to set a good example. But the way the Challenge page is set up, the people with the most rides are at the top, the people with the least, down at the bottom. In that sense, it really is a competition.

One of the folks who rides regularly to work asked to be removed from the BCC yesterday. He was feeling like it was all about competition, and he didn't want to play. Mind you, he has made a miraculous transformation in the last six months or so -- going from non-athlete to someone who bike commutes over Mt. Tabor, and regularly rides half-centuries on the weekends. He carries himself differently, more powerfully. I was disappointed that he wanted out.

For me, part of it is logging that trip in the morning. I love stats. But the challenge of it, for me, is actually doing the ride. It's physically a challenge. I'm sure I look labored and outrageously slow and fat, because I am. I should hate the time I'm on the bike -- particularly, the time that I'm going home over one little tiny completely-humiliating hill after another-- but for some reason, I don't.

Still, I can't wait for the weekend -- when I can walk! Seven miles Saturday, then a fast, and then a slow 5K on Sunday. Wuhoo!

2 Portland biking notes

1. Portland has these cool bicycle traffic light changing thingees. Essentially, you line up the bike on the line (with the little bike image on it), and it's like pressing the walk button -- you get the signal. There's a special bike traffic light coming off the east side of the Steele Bridge that is activated when a bike lines up on it. This morning, I got the left hand signal -- on Broadway! -- immediately.


2. In honor of Bike Commute Challenge month (or maybe it's just a coincidence), Portland Police do enforce the "no bicycling on sidewalks downtown" law. The ticket is $300+.

more biking, more of the time.

It seems like biking is consuming me. Forever, or at least the last 5 months, I've been walking, walking, walking. Now, between the BCC and tapering for the marathon, I feel like I haven't been walking at all. It's rather making me crazy. Especially since I'm at least a competent walker. Bicycling is a whole 'nother thing.

Last night I rode home. Passed a pedestrian/bicycle accident -- of course, the bicyclist was hysterical but untouched and the pedestrian appeared to have lost an eye. It made me think of Chrissie's aunt, who was paralyzed after being hit by a bicycle while she was walking. It's scary stuff.

I then succeeded in getting halfway up the ramp after the Steel Bridge. This is pathetic, but it's a great accomplishment for me. I then rode home very slowly through the neighborhood.

I passed a couple of punk rock girls on their bikes. I knew they would pass me when they turned onto my street -- that goes without saying. But my heart is always gladdened by the sight of punk rock girls. (Which suddenly makes me think of the Kids in the Hall sketch, He's hip, he's cool, he's 45. Anyways.) So, they do pass me, of course, and hammer up a hill, and that's when I realized that one of them had a prosthetic leg. I need to quit my whining!

Tuesday

I must be recovering a bit, because I feel stronger and more energetic today. The bike ride in wasn't a piece of cake, but it was better. I've noticed a couple things about my bike riding: 1) I feel really nervous about getting out of the saddle and standing to climb or do whatever -- I feel really unstable; and 2) my crotch hurts like hell at the 25 minute point. It stops hurting when I get off the bike, but still. So today, I tried standing on the pedals every now and again. The trust isn't there yet -- but my crotch didn't hurt at all when I got into work.

I was reading Adventure Cyclist (well, I can dream, can't I?) yesterday and cracked up when I read this:

"You'll see a bountiful offering of saddles. Consider yourself lucky if the stock saddle is the one you like most. And remember, almost everyone agrees that (a) the more you ride, the the skinnier the saddle you want, and (b) fatter saddles sell better. Don't expect me to fix this disconnect."
--John Schubert, March 2003, How to Buy a Touring Bike

I, of course, have a big ole saddle on my new bike. Is this true? Cyclists, please tell! (is this my excuse to go to Terry and get a new saddle?)

My walk for today was just 20 minutes, and I ended up walking around downtown. I was very pleasant, a nice morning, and I always enjoy people watching, checking out the older buildings and the like. I saw a lot of women wearing beautiful shoes. I felt a pang of longing -- I wish I could wear pretty shoes. I had decent legs -- wouldn't they look nice in heels? The thing is, girly shoes, flat or heels, kill my feet. I can't wear them. Well, I can -- I'm just so uncomfortable that I'm sure the expression on my face ruins the effect of my pretty feet. I thought of a blog entry in Fit Notes (sorry, can't find the permalink here):

No matter what shoes I wear, if they’re not laced-up athletic shoes, they tear holes into my feet in minutes. I see women walking around in all kinds of dress shoes, flat and otherwise, and they look perfectly comfortable. How do they do it? Is there something wrong with my feet?
July 22, 2004: Danger: Shoes

It set me to thinking. Could a person train to wear girly shoes? In high school and college, I adored heels and wore them often, until I decided that looking unstable wasn't sexy. They weren't painful then. Maybe I could adapt a marathon training program for wearing them -- slowly ratcheting up the time spent in them?

I wish the marathon would hurry up and get here!

Monday

It's Monday, and I think I'm finally feeling the Saturday walk. I'm tired, and not really feeling very inspired. I biked in, and actually rode up all the hills -- it's getting better. Perhaps this biking thing will feel good at some point!

The Bicycle Transporation Alliance sent me a couple Bike Commute Challenge posters to put up here at work -- they are beautiful. Hopefully this will encourage more people to participate than my silly emails.

The most exciting thing that has happened today is another sighting of the Pants On Fire Mobile, which is supposed to be in Portland through the 25th. A bunch of us ran down the stairs and out to the curb to watch the supreme monstrosity go by. It just warms my heart.

I ran into my coworker this morning, and so I made my confession about not saying hi. She seemed bummed that I hadn't said hi (which was nice), and we had a good conversation about blisters and pacing ourselves. I always expect my coworkers to not like me for whatever reason, and I'm always a bit shocked when they in fact do seem to like me.

I learned something sad today about the marathon. Basically, if you aren't at mile 22 by 12 noon, you'll be diverted to the "walker-friendly course". It's the difference between coming down the middle of Greeley, a small nice road, closed to traffic, and coming down Interstate Ave, a big ugly strip, on the sidewalk. To make that cut-off, I'd have to walk a 13.6 minute/mile. I might possibly be able to do that -- on a 5K if some of the PFit folks were pacing me -- but not on a marathon. Sheesh! To make matters worse, the MAX train, our mass-transit, comes down Interstate, and it will be taunting me, I know it.

I was also excited to see that Jayne has posted another race report, this time for the Chicago Triathlon/Team Clydesdale World Games V where she set a world record for her age/weight class! Her race reports (and dining logs -- hey, a woman after my heart) are up at http://www.slowfattriathlete.com/ -- there's a link from the home frame (sorry!) to the Chicago report, and the rest can be found in the 2004 Race Season.

Resources for fat chick athletes

Are you female and out of the S-L clothing continuum? Me too. Finding workout clothes is a pain. It's a catch-22 -- you're too big to wear cute workout gear and you're too big because you're not working out. Anyways, here's a list that I wish I would have had when I started out.

Sport bras for the overly-endowed: Enell Sport Bras.
You put one on, and you can just forget about your breasts, because they will be subdued. I can do any sort of aerobic activity and my breasts don't move. It's brilliant. It's worth it to check local sports shops and bra stores so you can see how it feels before purchasing, because I'm told some women don't care for them. Indeed, it took both the bra fitter and I to get it on the first time. And yes, it's more expensive than buying a sport bra at Target. Everything here is more expensive than Target. Damn it.

Stylin' clothes: Terry Precision Cycling.
Terry carries plus sizes, and many of their "normal" sized womens' gear come in XXL. They carry my favorite thing of all, the walking skort (they call it the Player), which combines an unpadded bike short with a wrap around skirt -- and three pockets, big enough for kleenex, gel, iPod. First of all, they're cute. Second, they're modest -- no advertising your beer belly or your tube of lipstick. And third of all -- pockets, brothers and sisters. Pockets! Oh, and did I mention they have tops? Cute tops?

More stylin' clothes: Team Estrogen.
Hanna pointed them out as a local favorite. I had somehow missed that they carry plus sizes, but of course, they do. Nice selection as well, though it does favor cyclists.

An other option for clothes: Junonia.
My complaint here is that they do have a lot of "active styles" and a whole lot of it is cotton. Yuck.

Last options: checking out chain sporting goods stores for their men's XXL sizes. I was able to get a couple pairs of Brooks running shorts for cheap.

Where do you buy workout clothes? Share the wealth!

I can't wait for the marathon

So, yesterday, I did 21 miles and thought it was gonna kill me. Today I can't wait to do the marathon. Oh my gosh, I've lost my tiny mind!

I actually feel remarkably good today, physically and mentally. It was a nice cool day, and I rode my bike into work, which was really pleasant. When I got downtown a couple blocks from my building, I saw the Pants-On-Fire-Mobile slowly driving by. Too cool!

I can't wait to do the marathon partially because I want to know if I'm going to like that distance. Maybe I'll hate it. But I loved 19 miles. And I love the idea of having an excuse to travel other places.

Oh. In the spirit of full-disclosure about seeing my coworker yesterday... We had emailed each other on Friday, also known as the day before my 21 mile death march, and I had sent her this obnoxiously cheerful email about blisters and walking routes. I mean, I was little Mary sunshine.

And I was so not little Mary sunshine yesterday at 15 miles when I saw her, all perky in her street shoes and clothes. I was definitely not perky -- I had run out of water and sport drink, I was tired and in pain, and while I was wearing my most cheerful walking skort, I probably had my own black cloud on a string.

I thought about how I had said that you need to put the blister pads on your feet when you first start to feel the hot spot, and I thought about the fact that I had about 5 hot spots that I had been aware of for about 7 miles at that point. (And I had blister pads in my pack). I thought about the fact that I was wearing a Portland Marathon training shirt, and that perhaps that had jinxed me -- why had I tempted fate? And I was afraid she'd pass me, which she did -- here I was, having trained for months, to be passed by someone who had started training last month? Well, yes. I reminded myself that weight does make a difference in speed, and she weighs at least 100# less than me. And, that I had been walking 15 miles at that point. And, who am I kidding, I'm just not all that fast.

I'm not the only one who had my butt thoroughly kicked by the 21 miler. A big thread has developed on the PFit forum about who was the most miserable. The strange thing is that everyone can't wait for the marathon.

I did 21 miles!

I did it! I did it!

Now, five hours after finishing it, I can't believe that I did finish it, and I can't believe I don't feel worse for the wear.

My goal was to finish in under 6 hours. I had set up my Garmin to do a virtual training partner, but I had set it up to go too fast, so it was constantly chirping at me.

It all started off innocently enough. Cool, humid morning, starting before sunrise. By the time we got to McCall Waterfront Park, I was walking with B. and K., who are excellent pacesetters for me. Unfortunately, on the Esplanade, they stopped to visit the porta-potties, and I continued on. And decided to pass some people. And then decided to throw in some hip-swivel. By the time I came off the Sellwood Bridge, I knew that I was tapped, and it was too late to do anything about it. I came back by the starting point, and it was a party -- the fast runners were standing around, a juice company was there handing out juice, and there was a table with snacks. I went on. At that point, it was 3 hours, 10 minutes -- it didn't look like I was going to make my 6 hour goal -- how was I going to do negative splits when I was already feeling so bad?

I ran into J., a racewalker who was finishing up, who suggested a different route. I don't know if that point I looked like death -- but I'm glad she suggested it. By the time I hit Tom McCall the second time, I was basically trudging, having to remind myself to keep good form. By the time I was on the Esplanade, I was having a fight with myself to say affirmations ("I will finish strong"; "I show good form"; I feel good and strong"...) and not just keep complaining about how I felt, how I wanted to quit, etc. My feet had been feeling like hamburger for a long while and I had various places on my feet that were hot spots. My hamstrings felt strung.

I'm ashamed to say that I saw a coworker out walking, and I was relieved when she didn't see, or recognize me. I'm sure at that point I looked like death -- I sure felt that way. I was having a hard time keeping my heart rate below 78%, and even though I was moving very slow, I felt like I was sprinting.

I did feel like quitting -- a lot. But I also couldn't face the thought of not finishing. This was a benchmark, the last long walk before the marathon. I had told a lot of people that I was planning to do this 21 miles. And worse yet, I had missed Diamanda Galas last night, so I could get a good night's sleep (ha!). I had to finish!

I made it to the beginning of the Springwater Corridor, and then headed back via the Hawthorne Bridge and Riverplace, as J. had suggested. By the time I made it to Springwater, I was out of water -- I had gone through my 3/4 full 100 oz. bladder. On the Hawthorne Bridge, I sprinted to try to avoid a crazy man with a golf club who was shouting his fool head off. Once I got off the bridge, I sat down to make a phone call.

My sweetie had driven me in in the morning and was planning to pick me up, when I called him. He had loaned me his cellphone... Now, I can count on one hand the number of times I've used a cellphone, and here I was, delirious, unable to figure out how to turn the damn thing on. I went into the Riverplace Hotel and a young woman there was kind enough to show me how it works.

I got some gatorade, and was unable to open the bottle. I went into a washroom and both stalls were full with mothers and their children. Oh dear God. I just forged on.

In the home stretch on Moody, someone checked up on me, and offered to get me a ride. I refused, though I asked her to come back and check on me again. I ran into one of the leaders, and he offered a ride too, but at that point, I had to finish. And I did.

The woman who had checked up on me was with my sweetie when I came into the parking lot -- and they were both cheering. She ran up and put a "medal" over my head -- a piece of yarn with a cardboard diamond saying PortlandFit 21 miles. I thought I might burst into tears -- that was far cooler than any medal I've received so far.

I was shocked to look at the time. I had made my negative split, somehow, and I was in under 6 hours. Oh my gosh!

The ice bath felt ridiculously good, and after a nap, I ache, but I feel much better than I expected. My arms and hamstrings ache.

5:51 (351)
21 miles
16.71/mile

If I am able to maintain that pace for the marathon:
-->437.9 7:18 minutes

in defense of the slow

It's bad enough with the stuff you hear in your head: you're too slow to be competing, you're too fat to be in technical fiber clothing, walking isn't real athleticism-- as well as the discomfort and pain of feet that feel like hamburger, of being far too aware of your hamstrings, of feeling the chafing of your hydration pack, or the seam of your shorts, or where you forgot to bodyglide. That's bad enough.

Then there's Walking the Walk, in this month's Runner's World. I learned about this from Marshall's Walking Distance. Over all, the article was balanced, but it comes as a rude shock to read some of the hurtful comments that some runners make.

Yes, I am an amateur, a hobbyist -- but I've been as serious in my training as any runner. I get the distance in on the weekends, I walk seriously 4 days a week, and I cross-train to build my endurance. I work out at the gym to build my core strength, and to enhance my upper body strength. I haven't missed a Saturday walk since the beginning of June.

I'm out there when it's hot and when it's cold and when it's wet. I've gone from couch potato to dedicated walker -- and I'm not strolling! How dare someone say that walking a marathon is a "cop-out for an underachieving society".

Yes, I know someone who walked the marathon without training for it, and I know people who do marathons as a bit of a lark -- but isn't that also the case with runners?

In the events that I've done, I've not had a runner, or a spectator, make a cruel remark. Heaven knows they could have, especially in the beginning. I'm pleased by how supportive runners have been. And because I've been protected, it's just a shock how vehemently some runners feel about walkers.

Cathie Nagle made this comment, and it ran true for me: "If the faster runners have a problem, I suspect a deeper prejudice or discrimination against overweight or out-of-shape people. If that's the case, shame on you. I for one applaud anyone who toes the starting line, especially those people who take six to eight hours."

I'm hoping to do the marathon in 7.5 hours. That would be a fifteen minutes off my half-marathon times, so for me, if I can make that, it'll be a great achievement. Yeah, it'll be slow, but it'll be fast for me, and that's what counts.

rest days

We made a quick trip up to Tacoma last night. I, in my usual optimism, expected that I'd be swimming in the motel pool, working out in the motel Fitness Center, and relaxing in the motel spa. In actuality, we ate a lot of really bad motel restaurant food, and did nothing at all.

I have the 21 mile walk looming on Saturday, and today is a rest day. Tomorrow is too. The thought of it drives me nuts. I can't ride my bike (and I can't tell you how obsessive I've been, thinking about how I can add more trips to work on my bike so my score will be higher!), not that it would be practical anyways, as I have an appointment late in the afternoon, and it drives me nuts. I can't do my 126 minutes of walking--not that I've succeeded in doing it all week. Yikes. I'm looking forward to after the marathon when I can walk all I please (of course, by then it will be dark in the morning and the evenings, hurrah). What's a girl to do?

The first official ride home

Well, I made my first official full commute today -- using the bike to go to work and back home again. I had a nice ride in, quiet and slow. I saw Sara's car at the gym -- that always warms my heart -- and ran into Hanna on Tom McCall Waterfront Park. And, I didn't walk anything on the way there. Woo hoo! 27 minutes! 3 miles.

On lunch, we walked for an hour, to Jill's apartment and back. We were moving pretty good, and it was lovely outside. I figured out yesterday that I need to do 126 minutes of walking to make my 15,000 desired steps. Of course, I didn't do any more than the single hour, but that's a goal I'll be working towards.

Riding home was tough. I walked the bike A LOT, and rode very slowly on the last mile or so. Traffic was crazy, lots of cars, lots of bikes. By the time I got home, I was fully soaked with sweat, and totally in the middle of an endorphin rush (which I didn't realize until I sat down for a few minutes). 35 minutes. It's hard on my ego to walk my bike up hills, and to move so slowly -- at least with walking, I can tell myself I am a long distance walker. And, all the cyclists I saw easily weighed a hundred pounds less than me -- I'm sure it's easier to propel the bike when there's less weight involved.

I wanted to walk after dinner, but it's already dark. I'm glad the temperatures are getting cooler, but the whole shortening day thing is a bit much.

I am currently reading Slow Burn, which is supposed to be about long slow distance running, but so far it's been a lot of positive thinking, your thoughts are shaping your reality stuff. While I do believe that, my hooey button gets pressed very quickly with that sort of groovy talk, and I have a hard time reading more than a couple pages at a time.

Marathon pace

I need to do the first 21 miles of the marathon at a 16.66 minute mile or better if I want to not get caught at the cut off. Supposably, walkers who are slow and don't make it to Greeley by 1pm marathon day will be diverted to a different course. (I need to find out if that's still the case, or if they did that in years past). I was planning to do at least an 18 minute mile pace (so I can finish under 8 hours), depending on heat, how I'm feeling, all that, but I'll need really to do better yet.

A 16.66 minute mile pace will still put me in 7 hours 16 minutes.

I'll have to try for that in the 21 miler this Saturday. Yow!

This long weekend has been awfully short

I don't know where the three days went. Oh, Saturday, as usual, was lost to walking and sleep and eating. Sunday turned into a vaccuum cleaner buying extravaganza, where we bought an outrageously expensive Dyson. It's great, I love it. To celebrate, we played on all the exercise equipment in the store, the store in question being Sears. After being used to gym threadmills and exerbikes and the like, the home equipment is tremendously unsteady, even when new. The weirdest one was the Gazelle -- I had seen the infomercials, I had thought it might be cool -- until I tried it out.

Oh, and I found out an acquaintance has cancer. I've been in shock and denial.

Today, we tried to get the missing part that we had bought the vaccuum for, and experienced the Sears customer service ethic. Now, it might just be the Portland Sears customer service ethic, which I really hope, because it sucks rather severely, and I have experienced it multiple times with large appliances. We came in, brought the extra part that doesn't work at all with our Dyson, and asked for the pet hair attachment. Oh, you have to return the entire vaccuum, there's no other way to do it. So, two hours and a half hours later, we walk out with the floor model of the pet hair attachment after watching the salesman open two boxes, after multiple chats with the manager, including one where he ended a call with fuck you.

What's really frustrating is that we had a great saleslady when we bought it, who demonstrated all the possibilities, talked about her own experience, yaddayaddayadda -- very compelling. She was a pro. And even though we were on the other side of town, we decided to buy it from her because she had spent time with us, thoughtfully answered questions, and seemed interested in getting us a quality product. When we had to return the vaccuum, she lost the commission. The guy who ran interference this a.m. was kind enough to let us know that it was not a small commission either. The manager said that we shouldn't worry about her commission (along with a dig towards his own staff), which angered us further.

Sigh. Anyways, it was an exhausting experience.

I had planned all weekend that Monday I was going to ride my bike to the gym, do my upper body workout, and ride home. By the time I actually made it on the bike, the laundry list included also getting my 15,000 steps in. So, I rode in -- it was sunny and beautiful, and the Esplanade was full of people. The river was particularly attractive, so I stayed out bike riding for a little while longer.

Then into the gym. I did my upperbody stuff, which felt great and tough (I've missed a week of sessions), and then in a fit of insanity, I got on the treadmill and did an hour and a half. I learned that I do about 119 steps a minute -- which partially explains how slow I am. I tried hiking the speed up to a 15 minute mile, and found that my heart rate monitor (HRM) was showing really high percentages (like, out of fat burning and into anaerobic work). Oh, and then while I was trying to count steps, I tripped and almost fell off the treadmill.

But what was very cool was that I was wearing my HRM, and the treadmill read out was showing my heart rate -- it was automatically reading it!

Then it was time to get back onto the bike and ride back home, all uphill. Oh boy! Of course, my heart rate was very high at the end of the treadmill because of the whole 15 minute/mile step counting and tripping episode, which wasn't a very good thing, because it never dropped in the 40 minutes coming home. I did walk the bike up some hills, but I rode a lot of it. Slowly. And I felt exhausted when I got home. My sweetie asked me, did I feel exhilarated? Um, no, not really.

Now it's time for bed, with work waiting tomorrow, and I just feel ripped off. I don't feel like I've had a long weekend. Oh well, get over it, VJ!

11 miles

I had a really nice walk on Saturday. 11 miles was the plan. It was cool and overcast. We started at 6 a.m. -- before it was light out! I met up with my fav. walking pal, J., who goes much faster than I do -- but yesterday she took mercy on me, and we went slower than she'd like, and faster than I'd like. It was a good compromise. We went up Terwilliger Parkway to the Chart House, a very nice, serious hill, and then back down, a lap around the Duniway Track, which is the most luxurious track imaginable. Then down by Old Spaghetti Factory, down the Willamette Greenway to Willamette Park, and back. J. called it good at 8 miles, but I went to finish it up, and I was amazed at how many people I was able to pass. In the end, I did 10.93 miles at a 17.29 mile, which is nothing to write home about, but it felt good.

Strangely enough, the Garmin called last weeks route, which was exactly the same, 12 miles. I did a 15.25 mile then. I don't know what to think.

Friday night

I still haven't ridden the bike home from work. It would involve some hills, and as we've noted before, I'm not so good with the bike and hills. So, tonight we went to the usual pasta joint, and then went back to work to retrieve the bike.

The bike spends the day in the parking structure beneath the building, one steep floor beneath the ground floor, in the company of many other bikes. Getting the bike into the structure is easy, but getting it back out again is nothing but heartache. I was determined, however, that I was going to ride it out for once. So, I geared it down and began circling the garage, waiting for the SUV at the booth to move so I could triumphantly ride up the steep ramp! And I circled, and I circled, and finally after a few minutes, the SUV pulled away, and so I started pedalling hard, going up the ramp, and damn it, about 3/4 of the way up, there was the SUV, just sitting there! And so I stopped, and walked the bike the rest of the way up the ramp.

I don't want to tell you how long it took me to stop sweating from the effort. This is really new to me.

Friday, finally

This morning as I was drinking my coffee, I kept hearing what sounded like buses driving up in front of the house. We are just off a bus route, but the sounds of buses are fairly faint unless you're listening for them. Not this morning. Imagine my surprise when I was taking the bike out the front door, and -- whoosh! -- there goes a #4. The public transit site says nothing about it, naturally.

I kept thinking about going back to bed, or taking the bus, or something. I really wasn't into the idea of riding the bike in this morning, or doing my morning workout (which is still undone), but I finally did get myself out the door and made it to work in record time: 25 minutes.

It's gray and overcast and chilly this morning -- I had meant to bring a jacket, but I forgot to put it on and once I got outside I decided to do without, rather than go back in and be 5 minutes later. My goal this morning was just to get to work ASAP, so I did not wear the heart monitor. I also decided to ride more of the bike routes. So I cut over to Vancouver Street, and low and behold, no bike route. I followed another cyclist down. I hung back at the lights, keeping up my cadence so I could take off quickly, and that worked out well. I really felt like a reasonable cyclist until I got downtown and then the line of men on bikes started passing me. Some other cyclists said hi to me though, which was nice.

It will be very pleasant to be walking again tomorrow, to be back in my comfort zone. 11 miles, not much.

addicted to the HRM

I'm totally addicted to my heart rate monitor. I wear it almost every time I do anything involving exercise. Including riding my bike into work this morning.

I know I must be tired or dehydrated or maybe just recovering from our 30K (18.something miles), but my heart rate has been a little elevated this week, and it was hard keeping my heart rate below 75% on the ride in. And real bike riders know this, but I'm just learning it: you find hills where you had no idea, as a walker, that there were hills. It's all very interesting.

Riding the bike is such a different activity than walking. When I'm walking, I'm constantly thinking about form -- am I standing up straight, am I going heel to toe, and lately, am I maintaining the hip wiggle (don't laugh, it's hard!)? -- and strategy. Bike riding, well, anything goes.

So, I rejoice in the downhills, and I watch as people pass me -- it seems like the same guy, over and over again. That's okay -- I'm doing what I'm doing. I'm barely aware of the river as I ride along it. I don't recognize anyone, but the street people, who seem a bit more beneficient when I'm on my bike.

I thought a bit about my teenage years, when I trained for a century on a single-speed Free Spirit. I wasn't fast then either. I didn't know nothing about nothing. I just liked to ride. I hope to get back to that.

I finished Slow Fat Triathlete this morning. Now I'm in the period of mourning that comes after finishing a good book. Mind you, I have a pile of walking books on the table waiting for me, and I bet there are some good ones there. Also, marathon and ultra training books. But will they be as witty and warm as SFT? Unlikely.

Jinx

I ended up staying home sick today. It's a rest day for walking, but I had been planning to ride my bike into work for the Bike Commute Challenge which began today. It's also a upper-body weightlifting day. No such luck. So I spent the day sleeping, which I must have needed. Disappointing though -- where's my endorphin rush?

I had a great training day on Saturday -- 12 miles, the first 4.5 miles straight up hill -- and I ended up with a 15:25 pace, incredible for me. But since then I've felt run down, and the humidity and warmth hasn't helped any. I did about 2 hours of slow walking both Monday and Tuesday, each time feeling like I was just dragging myself.

One very cool thing happened yesterday afternoon -- I got my Portland Marathon training shirt. It's even prettier than it looks on the website, and it's made of a nice technical fiber fabric. Woohoo! My coworkers seemed to think I had already walked the marathon, and that this was my finisher's prize.