Hi, guys! How was your weekend?
I had a great weekend trying to stay on track with my Newport Marathon training and—better yet—doing it one better by running my long run early.
We were originally supposed to go skiing last weekend, which would have been our final ski weekend of the season, but warm conditions in the mountains and some scheduling issues down here made us dump those plans. Staying home enabled me to complete my 14-mile long run on Saturday instead of Monday, which is when my coach had me doing it on my training schedule calendar. Thank God for canceled travel plans, because running long on Saturday meant I didn’t have to start my Monday morning at 5:00 a.m. I’m an early morning runner, but not that early.
My running partner A and I ran 14 on Saturday, taking it pretty easy. We actually had a couple of long stops on the way. One (at Mile 6) because she ran into some friends, and one (at Mile 8) because we were trying to rescue a seriously injured seagull. That is not a typo.
I am not a fan of seagulls (the PNW version of a pigeon, a.k.a. rat with wings), but this one was awfully pathetic. He was dirty and smudged around his right eye, and his right leg was bloody and hanging by a thread. He sat crippled in the middle of a very busy sidewalk that runs along the waterfront, and many runners and walkers had to dodge him.
(Not our seagull.)
A is extremely compassionate and phoned the Humane Society and our city’s animal control line, but neither agency could help. Well, let me qualify that. The Humane Society said if we could manage to round up the seagull and take him to their facility, they would care for him
Images of being pecked half to death by a frightened and panicked seagull flashed through my mind. A and I looked at each other, considering probably the same thing, and decided against further efforts. I am apparently as cynical and fatalistic as A is compassionate, so I muttered something about “survival of the fittest taking care of this.” My running partner felt even worse as the seagull cocked his head and looked at us as we ran away.
These two stops on our long run didn’t do much for our time. The second attempted-animal-rescue stop (which was about 10 minutes) destroyed my hope that we would negative split the long run.
It was a successful long run, though. We finished a relatively hilly 14-mile course and my legs weren’t too tired the rest of the day, even though that was the longest I’ve run since the New York City Marathon in early November.
Sunday was a rest day. I initially wanted to run an easy 4 but when I woke up my legs felt a little blocky (hmmm… .maybe I’m not as fit as I think I am) so I ditched the long run and ate a pile of waffles. With maple syrup and strawberries. And sausage links. Yum. Pretty much the same as running, right?
Also on Sunday, my daughter and I went to Nordstrom because I need some new denim. (I would have said “jeans” but I don’t want to sound old and unfashionable. This anti-“jeans” movement is apparently a thing.) I have decided that I hate the dressing rooms at Nordstrom because they have the most unflattering lighting and they have “fat mirrors.” I do not intend to denigrate anyone’s shape or size, mind you. I am not a supermodel (what?! I know, you’re surprised to hear this), have had two kids, was a Weight Watchers devotee for a while, and look beyond weight and numbers when considering beauty. But I think every American female understands what I mean by “fat mirror.”
This is a funhouse, not a Nordstrom dressing room.
They are kind of like funhouse mirrors in that they distort you to make you look larger, but of course they’re not as obvious as the distortions made by funhouse mirrors, and therefore just make you feel unpleasant about your appearance, which you expected to be different.
Fed up, I had my daughter take pictures of me in denim (you have no idea how difficult it was for me to type that spontaneously and not say “jeans” instead) to get a more accurate representation of how they looked on me.
Yes, I know I have a panty line. Stop looking so closely.
And it worked! You know dressing room mirrors suck when photos (which supposedly add 10-20 pounds) make you look smaller.
Damn you, Nordstrom dressing rooms. You would think with all the money it charges for clothes that it would be able to upgrade to better lighting and mirrors. Harumph!
Later on Sunday we went to my niece’s birthday at the Old Spaghetti Factory.
I know this is blurry, but isn’t my niece cute? My daughter loves her, if you can’t tell.
I have a soft spot for that restaurant, even though I’m pretty sure the sauce is made in a real factory somewhere far away and comes to the restaurant on a semi-truck. Hey—I grew up going there. Anyway, we had a great time and I indulged on sourdough bread and my standard order, the Manager’s Favorite, spaghetti with half covered by meat sauce and the other by browned butter and mizithra cheese.
As we left, though, I couldn’t help but ponder: isn’t the “OId Spaghetti Factory” a crappy name for a restaurant? I mean, it sounds like they serve old spaghetti. Yuck. Also, its name makes it sound like the food you’re eating is either made in a factory or served in one. Anyway, the things I think when I’m overloaded with carbs.
This morning A and I ran an easy 5.5 run and my legs felt completely back to normal after Saturday’s long run. I felt so good afterward I actually considered going to spin class tonight, but then I thought…
So here’s how my training looks this week:
- Today (Mon.): Easy 5.5
- Tues.: Rest
- Wed.: Mile repeats (1 mi. warm-up, 5X1 mi. at 8:15-8:20 pace)
- Thurs.: Cross-train (TRX? Not quite sure yet.)
- Fri.: Easy 5
- Sat.: 14 mi. LSD (long slow distance run–not the drug)
Total miles planned for this week: 30.5
Things are getting serious around here, as Newport is less than 10 weeks away. I’ve done only about 2/3 of the speed workouts my coach has planned for me, so there will be no slacking this week. This is officially now a no-slack zone!
But old habits die hard, so wish me luck. And have a great week!