See Adrienne Run: A Journey of 100 Miles

What's All This Then?

Greetings!

This blog has run its course, as it were. Actually three courses, but don't let that stop you from reading. Here's the skinny: I dedicated most of 2008 to running and fundraising for cancer research. On June 1, I ran the San Diego Rock n' Rock marathon. On June 21 I ran a half marathon in Anchorage, Alaska. Both of these feats were tackled with the coaching and support of The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, for which I raised $5,725. The final challenge was the New York City marathon on Nov. 2. This time I trained with "Fred's team" on behalf of Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center where I was treated successfully for Hodgkins lymphoma five years ago. I raised another $3240 (maybe more).

It was a banner year in many ways. I celebrated 5 years of health. I raised a lot of money. I earned a Team in Training triple crown for completing a triathlon, century bike ride and marathon. I was featured on a show about three first time runners in the NYC marathon, aired on NBC in New York. And ....

You can read all about my journey in sneakers below. And remember:
"A journey of 26.2 miles begins with a single shlep."

(For the back story, check out the Sept. 29th entry.)

Thursday, April 3, 2008

A Journey of 100 Miles

Full disclosure: I must correct the record. I broke the 100-mile mark at last night's practice, not on Saturday as previously reported. We regret the error. I did, however, complete my longest run to date on Saturday, 8.5 miles, which is notable.

My hill repeats last night brought certain things into stark relief. For one thing, I have to crosstrain harder, which is to say seriously and in a targeted way. I have been treating swimming as spa treatment, but it's not doing me any good if I'm not pushing it. I have to keep June 1 clearly in mind in every non-running day, even if I must threaten myself with visions of disaster. I'll reverse the visualization as I get stronger and closer to race day.

The laws of the universe dictate that what goes up, must come down. How long it will take to go up and come down is another thing. Have you ever seen shit going uphill? I was able to get away with a steady crawl on the way up because it was my first crack at hill repeats. We were working on proper form, not kill yourself effort levels. Still, I must push it a bit harder. I don't hurt enough today.

Another thing that keeps coming up is attitude. I set out for the 1.7 mile warm-up around the lower loop filled with dread. Last night it felt a little more intense than the usual "the first mile sort of sucks" feeling. I am not making life easy for myself if I show up with kneeless legs. I can't control the leg situation completely, but I can try to adjust things a bit. I can adjust my thinking in those first few hundred yards. I don't need to fight every step. I ran part of the way with the fundraising captain for the Lehman Brothers team. We were very much simpatico and that made the road a little easier to travel.

And one last thing: If I don't stop eating for a family of 6, I'm going to be sorry. I've been on a tear with hummus of all things. A few chick peas. Some tahini and garlic. Sounds benign. It isn't. If I can feel my belly flopping up and down as I shuffle, I'm carrying around too much weight. Two words: portion control.

Let's review three mantras to live and play by: Push it. Think pink. Eat less.