Well, it's been a week. I'm pretty much back to normal, physically, and have been for a couple of days. I still have pain in my left quad, but that was there for a while before so I'm pretty sure it will take a while to get better.
Psychologically? I still feel really good about how I did in the marathon. I've gone through in my head what I could have done better, or differently.... But I can't go back in time, and so it makes no sense to do the coulda-woulda-shoulda game.
I've spent this last week catching up - catching up on sleep, and things that needed to be done like mailing thank you cards, and with spending time with those I love. That's the weirdest thing right now - the amount of time I have to do other things.
Next week, I'm going to start going to the Y again. Not sure if I'll do any running this next week, to try to give my poor leg a little more rest maybe. But I struggle with what I'm going to do next. I like having a big goal to work towards - it gives a reason to why I do something. I also want to try more new things, but am unsure where to start, what to do.
I can't become complacent, procrastinate. I need to keep moving forward.
I have over 500 miles under my feet so far this year - how many more will I be able to go?
Saturday, June 28, 2014
Monday, June 23, 2014
And it's over
I am still a jumble of emotions today, two days after mostly running Grandma's Marathon. I feel like I need to put something down now so I don't forget some details.
The day started out cool and foggy, just like last year. The temperature was ideal. The humidity, not so much. I could tell when the humidity went down in that I was able to breathe more freely, and my steps were lighter and without as much effort. It wasn't very often that this happened, unfortunately.
I got a ride to the starting point with friends instead of taking the bus. This was pretty nice because it was way more comfortable and a lot less stressful. Plus I was with friends, so that was pretty cool too. Here's a picture of us before we head out on our way to Two Harbors:
The area at the starting line was, to me, surprisingly large. There were plenty of port-o-potties so I didn't have to wait too long to get in and out. For how much space there was at the beginning I was amazed at how cramped it felt. The music at the starting line... left much to be desired. It wasn't the kind of pump-you-up music that I remember from the half in the previous years.
And then there was the race itself. I started out way, WAY too fast - the first 5-6 miles were at sub-8:30 pace. It wasn't that hard, but the extra effort at the beginning, when I was supposed to build up to a faster pace, really sapped my strength later on. The humidity did a number on me, but it wasn't as emotionally draining as it was last year. Probably because my cheerleader Ben stayed with me through the half way point. Which really helped me keep going.
Starting at Mile 15 I walked through the aid stations, just to make sure I was hydrating well and to give my poor, old, achy body a rest. Once in town, it was easier to get through between the aid stations but it was by no means easy at all. My body hit a wall around Mile 22, where the pain was just so intense I had to will myself to continue on.
I think the highlight of the race was when I saw my wonderful husband and The Boy on Superior Street. I knew about where they were going to be standing, so I started scanning the sidewalk when I got close. I started to panic when I didn't see them and didn't see them. And then, there they were. I'm starting to tear up right now just thinking about it. I know I would have started crying then if I had any tears in me, but there wasn't any. I stopped and gave The Boy a hug, and I think I said something like "This hurts so bad!" with a catch in my voice (little did I know Aaron was recording me coming up to them - but I should have guessed he would). Aaron told me he was proud of me and that I could do it, so I continued on, stopping to walk for a little bit a half block later because I couldn't catch my breath because I wanted to cry so much.
The last 2-plus miles were a blur, and then I saw my boys at the corner to the final stretch, which was a surprise because I totally forgot they were going to do that. I got my finisher's medal, and my shirt, and a flower, which was really nice and made me almost cry again. I quick got my gear bag and went to meet my cheering squad and then to go home.
Yesterday, the pain was pretty intense. My whole body ached. The refreshed chafing on my left arm was so tender I didn't want to move that side of my body. I had two strange blisters, one on each foot, but those didn't bother me too much. Stairs continue to be especially hard, in that my left quad is very VERY angry with me. And my right hip.
And how am I feeling about how I did? I am so proud that I finished, that I pushed through when all I wanted to do was curl up and die. I finished a lot slower than I thought I would, but then again I didn't really comprehend before the physical toll running 26.2 miles puts on your body. Now I know, and I feel so happy with just finishing.
But will I do it again? Not for a very long time, if at all. I am no spring chicken, and the time commitment it takes to train for a marathon is so insane. But I rose up to the challenge that I set for myself, and I was successful, and NO ONE can take that away from me.
The day started out cool and foggy, just like last year. The temperature was ideal. The humidity, not so much. I could tell when the humidity went down in that I was able to breathe more freely, and my steps were lighter and without as much effort. It wasn't very often that this happened, unfortunately.
I got a ride to the starting point with friends instead of taking the bus. This was pretty nice because it was way more comfortable and a lot less stressful. Plus I was with friends, so that was pretty cool too. Here's a picture of us before we head out on our way to Two Harbors:
We're looking way too happy considering what comes next
The area at the starting line was, to me, surprisingly large. There were plenty of port-o-potties so I didn't have to wait too long to get in and out. For how much space there was at the beginning I was amazed at how cramped it felt. The music at the starting line... left much to be desired. It wasn't the kind of pump-you-up music that I remember from the half in the previous years.
And then there was the race itself. I started out way, WAY too fast - the first 5-6 miles were at sub-8:30 pace. It wasn't that hard, but the extra effort at the beginning, when I was supposed to build up to a faster pace, really sapped my strength later on. The humidity did a number on me, but it wasn't as emotionally draining as it was last year. Probably because my cheerleader Ben stayed with me through the half way point. Which really helped me keep going.
Starting at Mile 15 I walked through the aid stations, just to make sure I was hydrating well and to give my poor, old, achy body a rest. Once in town, it was easier to get through between the aid stations but it was by no means easy at all. My body hit a wall around Mile 22, where the pain was just so intense I had to will myself to continue on.
I think the highlight of the race was when I saw my wonderful husband and The Boy on Superior Street. I knew about where they were going to be standing, so I started scanning the sidewalk when I got close. I started to panic when I didn't see them and didn't see them. And then, there they were. I'm starting to tear up right now just thinking about it. I know I would have started crying then if I had any tears in me, but there wasn't any. I stopped and gave The Boy a hug, and I think I said something like "This hurts so bad!" with a catch in my voice (little did I know Aaron was recording me coming up to them - but I should have guessed he would). Aaron told me he was proud of me and that I could do it, so I continued on, stopping to walk for a little bit a half block later because I couldn't catch my breath because I wanted to cry so much.
The last 2-plus miles were a blur, and then I saw my boys at the corner to the final stretch, which was a surprise because I totally forgot they were going to do that. I got my finisher's medal, and my shirt, and a flower, which was really nice and made me almost cry again. I quick got my gear bag and went to meet my cheering squad and then to go home.
Yesterday, the pain was pretty intense. My whole body ached. The refreshed chafing on my left arm was so tender I didn't want to move that side of my body. I had two strange blisters, one on each foot, but those didn't bother me too much. Stairs continue to be especially hard, in that my left quad is very VERY angry with me. And my right hip.
And how am I feeling about how I did? I am so proud that I finished, that I pushed through when all I wanted to do was curl up and die. I finished a lot slower than I thought I would, but then again I didn't really comprehend before the physical toll running 26.2 miles puts on your body. Now I know, and I feel so happy with just finishing.
But will I do it again? Not for a very long time, if at all. I am no spring chicken, and the time commitment it takes to train for a marathon is so insane. But I rose up to the challenge that I set for myself, and I was successful, and NO ONE can take that away from me.
The Boy with the medal. He is very proud of his mama.
Saturday's Run
On Saturday, I ran my first full marathon, 26.2 miles, in 4:12:48. And now I need another nap.
Friday, June 20, 2014
T-minus
So, it is less than a day before the start of my first full marathon. And I am feeling... kind of excited, scared, anxious. Not too achy, which is nice. My sinuses are still a bit congested, but not completely horrible.
The last group run was on Tuesday. It was rather bittersweet. It is nice that I will now (in theory) have more time to do things other than running. But at the same time I am definitely going to miss the people and support that I got from the group. Especially my three amigos - Ben, Cassie and Mae. I don't think I would have made it this far without them.
Another pretty amazing thing happened on Tuesday at running group as well. Well, amazing for me that is... I volunteered to be interviewed for a segment on a local TV station about my training for the marathon! Historically, I would not have even thought about doing something like that - putting myself out there for pretty much the whole world to see. But now... now, I am embracing things that make me cringe, and it was actually kinda fun. And the head of my department at work saw it on TV and was like "Nice interview last night" and not even in a snotty way! For now, the story is still online:
http://www.fox21online.com/sports/feature/great-outdoors/runners-are-ready-go-grandmas-marathon
So today I took the day off from work, and I will be relaxing and trying to not get all crazy. But I got this - even if I don't meet my pie-in-the-sky goal I will finish, and finish strong. I will have challenged myself to something bigger physically than I have ever done before and succeeded. I will have completed this first leg of my journey that started the same day as this blog, on September 1, 2013. And I WILL be amazing.
The last group run was on Tuesday. It was rather bittersweet. It is nice that I will now (in theory) have more time to do things other than running. But at the same time I am definitely going to miss the people and support that I got from the group. Especially my three amigos - Ben, Cassie and Mae. I don't think I would have made it this far without them.
Another pretty amazing thing happened on Tuesday at running group as well. Well, amazing for me that is... I volunteered to be interviewed for a segment on a local TV station about my training for the marathon! Historically, I would not have even thought about doing something like that - putting myself out there for pretty much the whole world to see. But now... now, I am embracing things that make me cringe, and it was actually kinda fun. And the head of my department at work saw it on TV and was like "Nice interview last night" and not even in a snotty way! For now, the story is still online:
http://www.fox21online.com/sports/feature/great-outdoors/runners-are-ready-go-grandmas-marathon
So today I took the day off from work, and I will be relaxing and trying to not get all crazy. But I got this - even if I don't meet my pie-in-the-sky goal I will finish, and finish strong. I will have challenged myself to something bigger physically than I have ever done before and succeeded. I will have completed this first leg of my journey that started the same day as this blog, on September 1, 2013. And I WILL be amazing.
Hell yes!
Tuesday's Run
Went to the canal, spit for good luck, then had a yummy beer. This run was just what my soul needed. I ran 2.74 miles in 23:53, an average pace of 8:44. I am ready.Sunday, June 15, 2014
Anticipation
And, so, with less than a week to go, I am starting to feel the pressure. The need and desire to kick butt and take names on Saturday at what will be the biggest physical challenge I have ever attempted to undertake.
And I am so scared I feel like I'm going to vomit. And I still have this week to go through before the big day.
It is kinda hard to put into words why I am feeling so scared. I guess I can tell the story about last year and running the half marathon during Grandma's weekend.
Last year I also trained with the DRC marathon/half marathon training group. It was the first time I trained with anyone else - I had always done it alone with a bit of success. But with the group... my training was consistent. I was motivated to do more. I had the support of great people to push me along. I was getting stronger and faster. I won a 10k race, which was completely amazing.
And then there was race day. I felt the same fear and anxiousness last year as I do right now. I was in a worse place emotionally then, feeling like a complete failure and that I wouldn't be able to finish as fast as I wanted, or maybe even at all. I put on a happy face, though, and tried to will my way into a better frame of mind. It didn't work.
This depression from a race was, and is, just weird to me. Running has been my solitude, my mental and physical release, the thing that has helped me stay sane. But for some reason I am putting so much pressure on myself, that the very thing that I have come to love is causing me so much heartache and despair.
At the race I started out well, if not a little fast. It was really foggy and cool out, decent running weather (I don't do well in heat). I don't know how far I went before I started feeling like I couldn't catch my breath. Each step was a labor, oxygen not being able to get into my lungs and to my legs to move me forward. I started thinking about how it was true, that I was a failure and that there was no way I'd be able to achieve my goal. I started slowing down. I'm pretty sure I was close to tears at times. Some part of me compelled me to continue even though I didn't want to go on.
And then I finished. Slower than I had wanted. I felt defeated. I felt like a failure. I PR'd by over 12 minutes, but I felt like it was a sham. I was not tired. I felt like I did after a training run. I didn't leave it all out there.
And I was a mess for a while after that.
And now, this year, today, I'm starting to feel the way I did last year. Like a failure. Like I won't achieve my goals. Like I'm useless. And I don't know if I'll be able to snap out of it. Add to that a left quad that just won't get better and now a right ankle that is a bit achy....
Part of me wants it to be a week from now, so that it will be all over. Another part of me doesn't want today to end.
I am living in the anticipation of what will be.
And I am so scared I feel like I'm going to vomit. And I still have this week to go through before the big day.
It is kinda hard to put into words why I am feeling so scared. I guess I can tell the story about last year and running the half marathon during Grandma's weekend.
Last year I also trained with the DRC marathon/half marathon training group. It was the first time I trained with anyone else - I had always done it alone with a bit of success. But with the group... my training was consistent. I was motivated to do more. I had the support of great people to push me along. I was getting stronger and faster. I won a 10k race, which was completely amazing.
And then there was race day. I felt the same fear and anxiousness last year as I do right now. I was in a worse place emotionally then, feeling like a complete failure and that I wouldn't be able to finish as fast as I wanted, or maybe even at all. I put on a happy face, though, and tried to will my way into a better frame of mind. It didn't work.
This depression from a race was, and is, just weird to me. Running has been my solitude, my mental and physical release, the thing that has helped me stay sane. But for some reason I am putting so much pressure on myself, that the very thing that I have come to love is causing me so much heartache and despair.
At the race I started out well, if not a little fast. It was really foggy and cool out, decent running weather (I don't do well in heat). I don't know how far I went before I started feeling like I couldn't catch my breath. Each step was a labor, oxygen not being able to get into my lungs and to my legs to move me forward. I started thinking about how it was true, that I was a failure and that there was no way I'd be able to achieve my goal. I started slowing down. I'm pretty sure I was close to tears at times. Some part of me compelled me to continue even though I didn't want to go on.
And then I finished. Slower than I had wanted. I felt defeated. I felt like a failure. I PR'd by over 12 minutes, but I felt like it was a sham. I was not tired. I felt like I did after a training run. I didn't leave it all out there.
And I was a mess for a while after that.
And now, this year, today, I'm starting to feel the way I did last year. Like a failure. Like I won't achieve my goals. Like I'm useless. And I don't know if I'll be able to snap out of it. Add to that a left quad that just won't get better and now a right ankle that is a bit achy....
Part of me wants it to be a week from now, so that it will be all over. Another part of me doesn't want today to end.
I am living in the anticipation of what will be.
Thursday's Run
Another easy, taper run. It was very windy and cool, with a rain starting towards the end. I went 4.12 miles in 37:41, for an average pace of 9:09.Saturday's Run
The last Saturday training run is along the end of the race course, from the store to the finish line. It's helpful for people that are doing the race for the first time, to see where they need to go on that day. For me, it put a knot in my stomach thinking by the time I get to DRC that I will have gone almost 24 miles. 24 miles. With over 2 more to go. On Saturday I ran 3.84 miles in 32:26, for an average pace of 8:27.Thursday, June 12, 2014
Oh, the horror!
This post is going to be all about running. No other whimsical musings, not wedding/family talk - just running. Because for the next 9 days, that is pretty much all my life will be about.
*excuse me while I go find a place to hide and hyperventilate a little bit*
Alright, back to matters at hand. Now, when I say this post is going to be all about running, it will be in fact about something that I have not had to deal with up to this point in my running life. Something that is so horribly painful and disgusting that I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.
That's right - I'm talking about chafing.
You see, this spring I've been having a little bit of tenderness on the inner portion of my upper arms after long runs. I figure it's due to the fact that my guns have gotten a bit bigger and more defined with all the lifting I've been doing, and while running they are now rubbing against the seams of my tank tops. It was no big deal, just a little tenderness that would be completely gone the next day. That is, until last Saturday.
Oh, Saturday. My last long run before the marathon - 16 miles. No biggie, been there, done that. The weather, however, was not cooperating. Downpour rain when we went out. I've never been one to run in the rain, but I needed to get this last run in, especially since I missed to 20 miler the week before. So out I went.
Apparently, even with wearing tech clothes, the constant motion of my wet clothes against my fragile, pale skin was not a good thing. Pretty much every place there was a seam my skin was rubbed raw. My stomach. My right leg near my knee where the shorts ended. Under my right boob. Along my left collar bone. But, worst of all, are my poor arms.
Both arms, but more so my left than right, look like I was attacked by some crazed lunatic with 60 grit sandpaper. There was no blood initially, but man did my arms sting when I started sweating from cleaning house Saturday afternoon.
And there's no relief. Putting on deodorant - pain. Sweating - pain. Wearing a shirt - pain. Putting on lotion - pain. And to make matters worse, after Tuesday's run my left arm was rubbed so raw that it did start bleeding.
So, now I am wearing a ginormous band aid on my owie to try to get it to heal quickly and not be in extreme pain every time I think about moving. And I will now be slathering myself, everywhere, with Body Glide in 9 days so that, no matter the weather, I will not have to endure this agony every again.
The things I do to myself. But in the end it will be all worth it.
I hope.
*excuse me while I go find a place to hide and hyperventilate a little bit*
Alright, back to matters at hand. Now, when I say this post is going to be all about running, it will be in fact about something that I have not had to deal with up to this point in my running life. Something that is so horribly painful and disgusting that I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.
That's right - I'm talking about chafing.
You see, this spring I've been having a little bit of tenderness on the inner portion of my upper arms after long runs. I figure it's due to the fact that my guns have gotten a bit bigger and more defined with all the lifting I've been doing, and while running they are now rubbing against the seams of my tank tops. It was no big deal, just a little tenderness that would be completely gone the next day. That is, until last Saturday.
Oh, Saturday. My last long run before the marathon - 16 miles. No biggie, been there, done that. The weather, however, was not cooperating. Downpour rain when we went out. I've never been one to run in the rain, but I needed to get this last run in, especially since I missed to 20 miler the week before. So out I went.
Apparently, even with wearing tech clothes, the constant motion of my wet clothes against my fragile, pale skin was not a good thing. Pretty much every place there was a seam my skin was rubbed raw. My stomach. My right leg near my knee where the shorts ended. Under my right boob. Along my left collar bone. But, worst of all, are my poor arms.
Both arms, but more so my left than right, look like I was attacked by some crazed lunatic with 60 grit sandpaper. There was no blood initially, but man did my arms sting when I started sweating from cleaning house Saturday afternoon.
And there's no relief. Putting on deodorant - pain. Sweating - pain. Wearing a shirt - pain. Putting on lotion - pain. And to make matters worse, after Tuesday's run my left arm was rubbed so raw that it did start bleeding.
So, now I am wearing a ginormous band aid on my owie to try to get it to heal quickly and not be in extreme pain every time I think about moving. And I will now be slathering myself, everywhere, with Body Glide in 9 days so that, no matter the weather, I will not have to endure this agony every again.
The things I do to myself. But in the end it will be all worth it.
I hope.
Saturday's Run
The final long run. The subject of this post. 15.92 miles in 2:20:02. Average pace 8:48. Not too shabby.Tuesday's Run
And now the beginning of the taper. My left quad has been bugging me since the last hell Martin Road run, which seems like it was forever ago. And Tuesday was no exception. I just hope whatever this nagging ache is will be gone soon. The run was to be 6 miles easy. I ran 5.83 miles in 51:57, for an average pace of 8:55.Friday, June 6, 2014
Thank you for your patience
Holy cow. I did not realize that I haven't put up a post since May 25. Well, I kinda did, but it honestly doesn't feel like it's been that long.
So here I am. Miss me?
If you, my humble reader, didn't know, I got married last weekend. On May 31. 5/31. Yes, it was done on purpose. And how was it, you ask? It was awesome. Do you think I'd say otherwise?
The day started out with rain. Torrential rain. I was staying at my friend, and maid of honor's, house. Which has a steel roof. So once the rain started I was up with no possibility of getting back to sleep. Which is fine, because I wanted to go for a run in the morning to wish my fellow running group peoples good luck on their long run. That Saturday was supposed to be my last 20 mile run before the marathon and for obvious reasons I had to not do it. I wasn't happy about that, but in this instance getting married was WAY more important than running. And, of course, it rained while I was out on my run so I got pretty wet.
After hearing a lot of "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be getting married?" statements, I went back to Inga's, showered, ate breakfast, and then went to get my hair all did. And, man, did the hair person do an AMAZING job! I don't know how many times I heard that day how cool, beautiful, awesome, etc. my hair looked. I felt so pretty. Everything was going right on schedule too, which was really nice because I hate being late.
After hair it was back to Inga's to get dressed and eat lunch before heading up to Gooseberry Falls State Park. I should have known something was up when I had issues zipping up my dress when I put it on. And, no, it's not because I had stress-binge-ate too much in the previous weeks. But the zipper went up, and I thought nothing of it.
Flash forward to eating lunch. While inhaling my grilled cheese sandwich, I realized I hadn't put my shoes on yet. Grab shoes, put on, bend over to buckle - RRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPP! Oh shit. The zipper had pulled apart. In a panic I went upstairs to try to get the zipper to go down again so I could zip it back up. After way too long and Inga using a pliers, we realized the zipper was toast and we had to resort to Plan B. Why didn't this happen one of the billion times I had tried on my dress previously, I will never know. But the flash decision was to sew the zipper shut because there was no way a new zipper was going to go in on time.
So, there I was, close to bawling my eyes out, cursing the stupid dress and for being too fat and for my dumb luck and wanting to crawl into a hole and die.... And my two amazing friends Inga and Kris talked me down from the ledge and reassured me that everything was going to be OK. The only problem was that there was only one Inga to do the sewing, and it was taking a long time to make each stitch (the fabric was really nice, zipper - not so much). Kris called in the cavalry, name of Christine, and with a beer in my hand, two lovely women with needles, and an hour and a half, I was officially sewn into my wedding dress. And, of course, there's a picture to prove it:
So here I am. Miss me?
If you, my humble reader, didn't know, I got married last weekend. On May 31. 5/31. Yes, it was done on purpose. And how was it, you ask? It was awesome. Do you think I'd say otherwise?
The day started out with rain. Torrential rain. I was staying at my friend, and maid of honor's, house. Which has a steel roof. So once the rain started I was up with no possibility of getting back to sleep. Which is fine, because I wanted to go for a run in the morning to wish my fellow running group peoples good luck on their long run. That Saturday was supposed to be my last 20 mile run before the marathon and for obvious reasons I had to not do it. I wasn't happy about that, but in this instance getting married was WAY more important than running. And, of course, it rained while I was out on my run so I got pretty wet.
After hearing a lot of "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be getting married?" statements, I went back to Inga's, showered, ate breakfast, and then went to get my hair all did. And, man, did the hair person do an AMAZING job! I don't know how many times I heard that day how cool, beautiful, awesome, etc. my hair looked. I felt so pretty. Everything was going right on schedule too, which was really nice because I hate being late.
After hair it was back to Inga's to get dressed and eat lunch before heading up to Gooseberry Falls State Park. I should have known something was up when I had issues zipping up my dress when I put it on. And, no, it's not because I had stress-binge-ate too much in the previous weeks. But the zipper went up, and I thought nothing of it.
Flash forward to eating lunch. While inhaling my grilled cheese sandwich, I realized I hadn't put my shoes on yet. Grab shoes, put on, bend over to buckle - RRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPP! Oh shit. The zipper had pulled apart. In a panic I went upstairs to try to get the zipper to go down again so I could zip it back up. After way too long and Inga using a pliers, we realized the zipper was toast and we had to resort to Plan B. Why didn't this happen one of the billion times I had tried on my dress previously, I will never know. But the flash decision was to sew the zipper shut because there was no way a new zipper was going to go in on time.
So, there I was, close to bawling my eyes out, cursing the stupid dress and for being too fat and for my dumb luck and wanting to crawl into a hole and die.... And my two amazing friends Inga and Kris talked me down from the ledge and reassured me that everything was going to be OK. The only problem was that there was only one Inga to do the sewing, and it was taking a long time to make each stitch (the fabric was really nice, zipper - not so much). Kris called in the cavalry, name of Christine, and with a beer in my hand, two lovely women with needles, and an hour and a half, I was officially sewn into my wedding dress. And, of course, there's a picture to prove it:
Yes, I am smiling in this picture. I owe these two people so much.
I was late to my own wedding, not like they were going to start without me or something. And Aaron.... he was so handsome, like a dream, so understanding and caring...
The rain held out until after the ceremony was over thankfully. We got some amazing pictures (and I've only seen a few of them) and had a good time with our family and friends. Dinner at Valentini's was AMAZING (if you're in Duluth you NEED to go there - amazing Italian food). The cake was so good too. And then there was the pub crawl...
Instead of a traditional reception we invited our friends and family to join us on a microbrewery pub crawl down Superior Street in Duluth. And it was so much fun. The highlight of the night was the special small batch beer that the brew master at Carmody's made especially for us - Wedding Night Porter. It was a cherry-vanilla-cardamom porter that tasted of heaven.
I know there was more that I could write about, but this has gone on long enough. Suffice it to say that Saturday, May 31, 2014 was a day that I will always remember, and was quite possibly the perfect wedding day for us.
And so I am now Mrs. Erin Abramson. Which is just perfect.
May 27 Run
Since there are quite a few of these, I'm going to just do a quick summary of what went down. This day was a time trial, and my left quad was not happy with me after the long hilly run the previous Saturday. 6.01 miles in 50:39, for an average pace of 8:26.May 29 Run
6 mile easy run in preparation of the (supposed to be) 20 mile run on Saturday. 6 miles, 53:22, average pace of 8:54.Wedding Day Run
Ran from Inga's house to Brighton Beach to say hi and bye to my running peeps. Oh, and I wore my new running shoes, which are so awesome and comfy. 5.71 miles, 51:14, average pace of 8:58.Tuesday's Run
This was a goal pace workout of 2 miles goal pace, 3 minutes jogging x 3. Running friend Ben and I ended up cutting the last 2 mile goal pace short because we were extremely hot and dehydrated. 6.21 miles, 55:17, average 8:54 pace.Thursday's Run
Did not happen. It was supposed to be hill repeats on 7 Bridges Road, but I came down with some sinus-head-cold thing after the wedding, which by Thursday had morphed into a chest cold. And I was not about to run up and down a hill, in the rain, not being able to breathe. So I didn't run. So be it.
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