New York, New York

I've been in a little bit of a funk these last few days with my exercising.  I've been lacking motivation - I just want to lay in bed when the early alarm goes off.  I don't want to run or exercise.

The mind is a fickle thing.  How is that one day you are are raring to go and the next you could care less?

I skipped my Tuesday run this week - I just couldn't for the life of me get out of bed.  I ran 3 miles of hills yesterday, dragging my sorry rear up and down the inclines, including Hilda.  Today I woke up at 5:30am without the alarm and after 30 minutes of trying to talk myself out of getting up, I finally rolled out of bed.

I sleepily put on my running skirt and shoes and headed out the door, with my playlist set to shuffle.

The second song made my heart and mind wake up.

Frank Sinatra and his famous New York New York.

Verrazano Bridge, the start of the NYC Marathon

I remembered why I have to run 4 miles today.  I'm running the New York City Marathon in 115 days!

All of a sudden, I had a spring in my step and a smile on my face!  I felt lighter and much happier. And most importantly, happier running.

I don't know why my mind does this to me.  I know it happens to everyone, this lack of motivation. My goal seems far away - 115 days - but it's not that far away at all.  That's the thing with marathon training - it takes time!  I can't just wake up and run a marathon.  It takes days and days of miles and miles.  It's easy to lose track of the goal when you are weeks away from the race.  But you need to keep building your endurance and strength.

Frank made me realize that this morning.  That I'll have good days and bad, but as long as I keep hitting the pavement, my goal will be reached.

It really is all about putting one foot in front of the other.
On my pink miles!

Run Up and Down. Repeat 7 times. Then go see Hilda.

3 months post op and I am finally feeling normal again.  And that means training again!  The New York City Marathon is just 4 months away, and I'm getting my rear end in gear.

I'm back to running 4-5 days a week, and I'm also running hills again.  Hill repeats had always intimidated me.  When I read about other mother runners running them, I always thought that hills were for real runners, not me.

Well, hello, I'm a real runner! And hill repeats are now one of my favorite things.

Except for Hilda.

I have a hill route that I run - it's just up and down my rural country road.  I run three miles - three different hills.  Two hills I run twice and one I run three times.

And then there's Hilda.

There is this hill right before my driveway. For lack of imagination, I've named her Hilda.

 OK so that looks pretty pathetic.  Hilda doesn't look bad at all!  

But pictures just aren't conveying the feeling I get 

when I stand at the bottom and look up.

And then she continues around the corner, and heads upward some more.

She's not an exceptionally long hill.  Or steep hill.  But I have a fear of Hilda.

I don't know what it is.  I've avoided running up her for the last 2.5 years.  She is certainly steeper than what I normally run.  But there is no reason why I can't just crank on up the slope.

So I did just that this morning.  I said to myself - get your rear end up that hill.  Is Hilda stronger than you?  No, Ma'am, she is not.  I ran up the Queensboro Bridge in the NYC Marathon last year for crying out loud! I'm going to let a little hill defeat me?

So up I went.

I almost made it to the top without collapsing.  My Garmin beeped 3 miles (Done!) before I reached the top.  How's that for a lame excuse to quit Hilda?

But she's not going anywhere.  Hilda will still be there next week.  And the week after that.  And the marathon after that.  I'll be racing up Hilda before I know it.

And the good thing is that my driveway is right at the top of Hilda.  So I can just collapse on my own turf when I'm done with her.

On the Road Again

The last month or so has had me off my game. 

In January I developed a cough.  A really bad cough.  It started out with flu like symptoms which sent me to bed for three straight days - which never happens.  With 3 sons, I don't get much down time - but I was not well.  Then the cough started.

And continued.  And continued.

It lasted 7 weeks.  And not just an occasional cough.  No, it was one of those double over, red face, can't catch my breath coughs.  A round of anitbiotics and perscription cough medicine didn't do very much.  So I just had to wait for it to go away.

I tried to keep running through the cough.  But that was incredibly hard.  Running for six miles, coughing, or even just running for 3 miles, coughing, is not a good thing to do.  I couldn't get a good deep breath at all.  I was pretty miserable.

The cough put me off my normal routine.  Writing and running and exercising.  So my 30 minutes of exercise everyday didn't quite work out as planned over the last few weeks!  I missed about 7 days total where I didn't get any exercise - not even walking the dog.

But that's OK.  I forgive myself!  So now I'm getting my groove back.

I went for a fabulous run this morning.  4 miles, fog along the side of the road, quiet, cool.  It was wonderful.  I felt strong, energized and healthy!  I could get a deep breath without having a coughing fit.  I ran up hills that I normally walk up. 

It always amazes me how a run can just totally transform you.  I can head out grumpy, mad, angry about whatever, but return home refreshed and happy.

I'm so glad to have my lungs back! 

And my legs too - I've got one month to get ready for the NYC Half Marathon on March 18.  I was hoping for a personal best for the 13.1.  But that might not happen - which is ok. 

My goal now is just to run through Times Square, smiling, in a pink tutu!