I set a new personal record today for walking the 10k. I shaved about 3/4 of a minute per mile off my record time, which I set mid-July at the Smith Rock Sunrise Classic. I also looked back at my time last year for this event - which was with a friend and the early stages of getting fit - and I bit off a huge chunk of time from that: I finished 24 minutes earlier today than I did just a year ago. Things are looking up.
And that's a great number of funds raised for Write Around Portland. I'm leaving my donation widget up on my website, The Writing Vein, for another month so people can still donate if they find some extra cash lying around and they want to give it to an awesome cause.
Thanks, everyone! For being you, for being Write Around Portland, for the financial support to the organization and the personal support to those of us who participated in our various ways in the event.
Showing posts with label walking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label walking. Show all posts
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
tip #101
In these last few days leading up to the marathon and Mayor's Walk, we are tapering off training. We are resting and doing the things we need to do to be in optimal condition to go our chosen distance.
Here is one simple tip I learned from friends at a relay this summer. And it's the perfect week of event thing to do: trim your toenails! That's right. Trim them right down to avoid blistering, bruising, and potential loss of nails.
Here is one simple tip I learned from friends at a relay this summer. And it's the perfect week of event thing to do: trim your toenails! That's right. Trim them right down to avoid blistering, bruising, and potential loss of nails.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Perspective
A friend was planning to do the Mayor's Walk with me on October 4th. Unfortunately, she had outpatient surgery, which resulted in about 20 stitches, and the doctor telling her it wouldn't be a good idea. The stitches come out just before the event.
My friend was bummed. We did the event together last year - the first time either of us had participated. We were looking forward to doing it together this year - 12 months of fitness training and miles walking/paddling/biking/elipticalling (I know, that's not a word!). She felt badly that I might have to do it without a walking partner; I told her it was fine, I would use it as my pace training that day.
She laughed. She reminded me that last year we stood there at the start on the bluff near UofP, with our eyes toward downtown and nearly cried. It looked so far; it was drizzly; it was only our second event and it was an overwhelming site. Now here I am saying "it's my pace training for the week."
Things do change. With training and persistence, things improve. And it's important to look at my accomplishments sometimes, too. It's too easy for me to look at what didn't go as planned, e.g. "darn, I only did 17.5 minute miles today; what happened?" or "wow, I didn't stretch enough and my right shin and big toe are so cramped." Those may be true. But it's also true that, while completing the 10k at 2 hours and 9 minutes last year was great - this year I'm aiming to complete it in under 1 hr 42 minutes.
Keeping perspective is important. And friends can help do that.
My friend was bummed. We did the event together last year - the first time either of us had participated. We were looking forward to doing it together this year - 12 months of fitness training and miles walking/paddling/biking/elipticalling (I know, that's not a word!). She felt badly that I might have to do it without a walking partner; I told her it was fine, I would use it as my pace training that day.
She laughed. She reminded me that last year we stood there at the start on the bluff near UofP, with our eyes toward downtown and nearly cried. It looked so far; it was drizzly; it was only our second event and it was an overwhelming site. Now here I am saying "it's my pace training for the week."
Things do change. With training and persistence, things improve. And it's important to look at my accomplishments sometimes, too. It's too easy for me to look at what didn't go as planned, e.g. "darn, I only did 17.5 minute miles today; what happened?" or "wow, I didn't stretch enough and my right shin and big toe are so cramped." Those may be true. But it's also true that, while completing the 10k at 2 hours and 9 minutes last year was great - this year I'm aiming to complete it in under 1 hr 42 minutes.
Keeping perspective is important. And friends can help do that.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
training matters
I know training is important. But some days I just don't want to get out the door. Or I realize I didn't leave enough time to warm-up and stretch and then do the training and have enough time to get back, shower, change and get to work on time.
Then I think, that's okay, I'll skip the stretching. I'm doing pretty well and it'll be okay. Or, I'll cut the warm-up short or - if I'm only scheduled to do 5k, well, it's just 5k, I don't need to warm up.
My body generally reminds me a few minutes in that I need to do these things. Gently if I listen the first time; loudly a couple hours or one day later if I ignore it. So I've learned to listen to my body.
And I've learned to listen to those around me. A friend was recently talking about a walk she did and how she realized a ways into it that she needed to do some more training before doing a half marathon. She's in good shape but more achey than I am and with a couple other issues after our walk because she's not training.
I notice. My training is definitely decreasing my hurts and increasing my speed of recovery from tired or achey muscles. I can do this. I am doing this.
.
Then I think, that's okay, I'll skip the stretching. I'm doing pretty well and it'll be okay. Or, I'll cut the warm-up short or - if I'm only scheduled to do 5k, well, it's just 5k, I don't need to warm up.
My body generally reminds me a few minutes in that I need to do these things. Gently if I listen the first time; loudly a couple hours or one day later if I ignore it. So I've learned to listen to my body.
And I've learned to listen to those around me. A friend was recently talking about a walk she did and how she realized a ways into it that she needed to do some more training before doing a half marathon. She's in good shape but more achey than I am and with a couple other issues after our walk because she's not training.
I notice. My training is definitely decreasing my hurts and increasing my speed of recovery from tired or achey muscles. I can do this. I am doing this.
.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
All in the Timing
This morning I participated in the Komen Race for the Cure. A small group of friends and I decided to do the Women's 5k Untimed Run.
Remember, me, the walker? And I just said I did the run? What we really did is that, out of the 7 of us, 2 were going to run, 3 of us are in training for the half-marathon, and the other 2 were planning to walk.
It was a brilliant plan and it worked. We started near the back of that event's pack - with the slower runners (over 10-minute miles). Our original plan was to to all run across the start line and then the walkers to slow to our walking pace (either training or regular walking) after a block or two.
Luckily, the start was so slow that everyone except those in the very front were fast walking across the start once you got there. Even the smaller pack of runners were starting out walking due to the number of participants.
So - the deal with the few seconds is this. I kept up a pretty good pace, although I know that one of the two I was walking with was slowing her pace for us. After we did the up and over the bridge, loop up on Naito to make it the full 10k and then headed back for the finish line, I saw the timer coming into view.
I was pretty bummed when I got close enough to see the numbers and not just the red glow on a black rectangle. I could see that I was going to cross that finish line at about 49 minutes and that was slower than my recent times of similar length. I computed the numbers in my head. Bummer. Too slow.
Without going into the convoluted math I do in my head (round here and approximate there to make it easy to compute) - the actual numbers came out better when I had a calculator. It's funny - because I keep forgetting that knocking off .1 or .2 of a mile to make it easier to divide, or ignoring the true seconds and rounding up - it all works against me when I'm looking at pace.
What went as a disappointing approximately 17-minute miles to an acceptable actual calculation of 15.2-minute miles showed me that, yet again, seconds do count.
The little pieces of time, the actual measurements, each step, counts.
Just like each $5 or $10 or whatever amount our friends, family, co-workers can drop in our hands or put on our FirstGiving pages counts for Write Around Portland.
Remember, me, the walker? And I just said I did the run? What we really did is that, out of the 7 of us, 2 were going to run, 3 of us are in training for the half-marathon, and the other 2 were planning to walk.
It was a brilliant plan and it worked. We started near the back of that event's pack - with the slower runners (over 10-minute miles). Our original plan was to to all run across the start line and then the walkers to slow to our walking pace (either training or regular walking) after a block or two.
Luckily, the start was so slow that everyone except those in the very front were fast walking across the start once you got there. Even the smaller pack of runners were starting out walking due to the number of participants.
So - the deal with the few seconds is this. I kept up a pretty good pace, although I know that one of the two I was walking with was slowing her pace for us. After we did the up and over the bridge, loop up on Naito to make it the full 10k and then headed back for the finish line, I saw the timer coming into view.
I was pretty bummed when I got close enough to see the numbers and not just the red glow on a black rectangle. I could see that I was going to cross that finish line at about 49 minutes and that was slower than my recent times of similar length. I computed the numbers in my head. Bummer. Too slow.
Without going into the convoluted math I do in my head (round here and approximate there to make it easy to compute) - the actual numbers came out better when I had a calculator. It's funny - because I keep forgetting that knocking off .1 or .2 of a mile to make it easier to divide, or ignoring the true seconds and rounding up - it all works against me when I'm looking at pace.
What went as a disappointing approximately 17-minute miles to an acceptable actual calculation of 15.2-minute miles showed me that, yet again, seconds do count.
The little pieces of time, the actual measurements, each step, counts.
Just like each $5 or $10 or whatever amount our friends, family, co-workers can drop in our hands or put on our FirstGiving pages counts for Write Around Portland.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
inspiration is a two-way happening
Last week I took my distance training day off - on the advice of my doctor because of pain in my Achilles tendon; but still. I took it off. I did a one-mile stroll with a friend the next day. Then I missed my pace training 2 days later; same reason. I did the 4 miles of the pace training, but at regular speed - not speedy speed. That was this last Monday.
On Tuesday I did my strength training and regular walking (several short brisk-ish walks totalling an hour scattered in between my jobs).
Then it was Wednesday and time for my hill training (in preparation for the half marathon in Seattle; I don't need it for the Portland Mayor's Walk!). I was concerned about my heel and feeling a little frustrated about missing the distance day and not doing the pace training. And doubting myself. Not wanting to do it - up and down the hill to Mt Tabor several times.
I distracted myself by checking my email. Which turned out to be the perfect anecdote to my funk. There was the following email from my dragon boat / half-marathon walking / whitewater rafting friend :
I went out with a smile and walked up and down the hill. And without any pain in my foot but with a renewed sense of "I can do this."
Thank you, Karen, for your perfectly timed counter-insprational note. And I did feel better for having done it.
On Tuesday I did my strength training and regular walking (several short brisk-ish walks totalling an hour scattered in between my jobs).
Then it was Wednesday and time for my hill training (in preparation for the half marathon in Seattle; I don't need it for the Portland Mayor's Walk!). I was concerned about my heel and feeling a little frustrated about missing the distance day and not doing the pace training. And doubting myself. Not wanting to do it - up and down the hill to Mt Tabor several times.
I distracted myself by checking my email. Which turned out to be the perfect anecdote to my funk. There was the following email from my dragon boat / half-marathon walking / whitewater rafting friend :
Hi Dot... every now and then I check in on your writing [on your website, The Writing Vein] ... and I love reading what you write! I also just wanted to tell you that it inspired me because I'm getting to the point where I think about going out for a run/walk or walk and I don't want to... but you remind me that I will feel better if I go and do it. Thank you for that!...oh, and she's a MissFit Alliance Race for the Cure teammate, too.
I was just going to go do the 1/2 Marathon without training but think I'd better get out there and get my feet in condition!
Don't forget the Race for the Cure on the 20th!
I went out with a smile and walked up and down the hill. And without any pain in my foot but with a renewed sense of "I can do this."
Thank you, Karen, for your perfectly timed counter-insprational note. And I did feel better for having done it.
Friday, September 4, 2009
walking around for write around
I will be walking the 10k Mayor's Walk in the Portland Marathon. I am a walker, not a runner - and I'm fine with that. I am not a race walker, I am a walker who is increasing her pace little by little, with a current goal of doing under 17 minute miles in a half marathon in November. And I'm okay with that, too.
I read Loren's post with a knowing nod about what keeps you going when you don't feel like it. I am just coming out of one of those stretches where I've had to drag myself out the door to go for the 5-mile pace building training walk, or the 8-mile distance building walk, or to walk up and down the hill to Mt Tabor 5 - 7 times. And that's been okay, too.
So what does keep me going?
Sometimes it's noticing how I'm feeling - like the time two weeks ago when I took a day off due to fatigue, and it was the day after my training day off. I was feeling frustrated and overwhelmed. So on the third day I set out on my training walk and I'd gone only a fraction of the miles I had to go and that cloud of doom lifted and I thought, ahhhh. Recognizing that my body has become used to the daily routine. Easier and cheaper than another therapy appointment or anti-depression medication *grin*. Or it's my partner telling me I've become a little crabby and wouldn't a walk feel good? And I know she's right. And it does.
Sometimes I keep going because I've signed up for some events and rallied others to join me on events I haven't signed up for yet. An example is that Sunday I thought, there is no way I can do that 8 miles today and then I remembered that, after the Mayor's Walk, my next event is the half-marathon in Seattle in November. Which now feels not so far away; and I'm out the door with shoes laced and my Camelbak full with a package of Stingers in my pocket.
The same is true of writing. If I go too long without being actively engaged in the writing process, I get cranky. I start feeling bottled up. Stuck. And sometimes I have to completely close that internal critic's eye and just write. I keep myself enrolled in a "Lit Star Training" course with Ariel Gore so that writing is kept on my list of things to do, with weekly assignments and peer feedback. And I find submission deadlines to give me an end-point or a reason to keep revising.
I write because I have something to say.
I walk because I feel better when I do and because I don't want to lose the muscle I've gained or gain the weight I've lost.
I walk and I write because sometimes I find myself smiling for no apparent reason, except that it feels good to be alive and I have something to look forward to. Or maybe I have a kayak tucked in the back of my car. Or snowshoes in the closet waiting for the snow to fall.
Or I find myself halfway up the four flights of stairs to Write Around Portland to pick up my facilitator's bag and realize I didn't even consider taking the elevator.
I read Loren's post with a knowing nod about what keeps you going when you don't feel like it. I am just coming out of one of those stretches where I've had to drag myself out the door to go for the 5-mile pace building training walk, or the 8-mile distance building walk, or to walk up and down the hill to Mt Tabor 5 - 7 times. And that's been okay, too.
So what does keep me going?
Sometimes it's noticing how I'm feeling - like the time two weeks ago when I took a day off due to fatigue, and it was the day after my training day off. I was feeling frustrated and overwhelmed. So on the third day I set out on my training walk and I'd gone only a fraction of the miles I had to go and that cloud of doom lifted and I thought, ahhhh. Recognizing that my body has become used to the daily routine. Easier and cheaper than another therapy appointment or anti-depression medication *grin*. Or it's my partner telling me I've become a little crabby and wouldn't a walk feel good? And I know she's right. And it does.
Sometimes I keep going because I've signed up for some events and rallied others to join me on events I haven't signed up for yet. An example is that Sunday I thought, there is no way I can do that 8 miles today and then I remembered that, after the Mayor's Walk, my next event is the half-marathon in Seattle in November. Which now feels not so far away; and I'm out the door with shoes laced and my Camelbak full with a package of Stingers in my pocket.
The same is true of writing. If I go too long without being actively engaged in the writing process, I get cranky. I start feeling bottled up. Stuck. And sometimes I have to completely close that internal critic's eye and just write. I keep myself enrolled in a "Lit Star Training" course with Ariel Gore so that writing is kept on my list of things to do, with weekly assignments and peer feedback. And I find submission deadlines to give me an end-point or a reason to keep revising.
I write because I have something to say.
I walk because I feel better when I do and because I don't want to lose the muscle I've gained or gain the weight I've lost.
I walk and I write because sometimes I find myself smiling for no apparent reason, except that it feels good to be alive and I have something to look forward to. Or maybe I have a kayak tucked in the back of my car. Or snowshoes in the closet waiting for the snow to fall.
Or I find myself halfway up the four flights of stairs to Write Around Portland to pick up my facilitator's bag and realize I didn't even consider taking the elevator.
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