Oh. Em. Gee.

You might think this post is a about the monstrous hills we climbed today on our hill-training run. But it's not, because I missed out on that fun event. Let me tell you why...

Staci is a fitness beast. And I say this with as much love as possible. She is involved in a lot of different things that keep her fit and excited about life. I, on the other hand, really like my couch. I love to run, but even joining a gym was a huge feat for me. But Staci often challenges me to think about other things, do better and try things I wouldn't normally try. Last Monday at our athletic training class, she was talking about hot yoga. She has mentioned it a few times before and my interests have always been raised. Now please note, they are only raised a wee bit and I move on, because I honestly can't even think about adding another thing to "do." We train on M/W/F with AT class and we run Tues/Thurs/Sat - something has to give, right? Wrong.

Staci invited me along to try hot yoga last Monday. I silently cheered when the class was canceled (don't scowl at me Staci!). Fast forward to yesterday. After AT class, I told Staci that if I was able to drink enough water (I have slight dehydration issues - more on that later), that I would go to hot yoga with her. All on my own terms. I wanted to at least try it. She told me to drink enough water and she would pick me up around 6:45.

I wasn't really sure what to expect. I certainly didn't expect to sweat from EVERY PORE IN MY BODY. Or to be assisted by touch. While everyone was excelling at a yoga head stand (I REPEAT, THEY WERE STANDING ON THEIR HEADS), I was just trying to get in the right form to even attempt something like that. Note, I didn't WANT to attempt standing on my head. I was new. I had an out, right? That's when the instructor came by and grabbed my legs. She just grabbed them... and then I felt a lot of pressure on my forearms and in my head. It hit me halfway through that she was trying to help me stand on my head. Processing that wasn't easy. Which is when I let out a few loud "OMGs and HOLY CRAPs." It wasn't bad, I just didn't expect it. When someone has personal space issues - knowledge of what is to come is slightly important. Especially when that regards touch and complicated yoga movements. But I digress...

After we finished, I felt kind of weird. I did drink a lot of water throughout the day yesterday and I drank quite a bit of water and Crystal Light lemonade (sugar + water = good) after the class. I was unusually tired when I got home so in between hydration, I found myself falling asleep. I also ate a peanut butter sandwich somewhere in the mix. Suddenly it was 11:30 p.m. and my body began to revolt. This is the only pleasant way to explain it and because you have better things to envision - I'll leave it at that.

I haven't been to the ER due to physical sport activity in roughly two years, and last night I felt closer than ever. Normally, I wait entirely too late to make a call - mostly in denial that I can take care of it myself. I hate inconveniencing friends. Late night phone calls can rattle you for the next 24-hours, but I sucked in my pride and called Staci. At that point, I thought the ER would be where I spent the rest of the night... but the first treatment option is always Gatorade/Powerade. She brought me two 32 oz. bottles and sat with me while I drank the first one. I knew if I could keep it down, I would be okay. Stages of dehydration are pretty terrible, in case you want to know. Dry heaving, cramping hands, unregulated body temperature and the list goes on. It's not fun and it's so hard to communicate how terrible you feel. Needless to say, I am more than grateful for Staci - and the girls went on our hill-training run without me. I was actually looking forward to this route, and I'm still a little bummed.

So - lesson learned. No more hot yoga for this girl - at least not in the midst of training for a half-marathon. Or ever.

Pajamas.

Today has been a walk-in-the-door-immediately-put-on-pajamas kind of day…you know the kind. I really don’t have those often; even bad-ish days usually result in a mere kicking-off-of-the-shoes upon entering the house. My immediate thought is to hark back to the foggy (literally and metaphorically) beginning of said day. It was still dark. And foggy. And drizzly. And thanks to a poorly (aka – not at all) thought out commitment that I made a few of the longest short weeks back, I dragged myself out of bed to meet up for our 4 mile hill *yes…hill…it’s s’posed to be flat here but the Evil Mastermind referenced in previous posts but who will not be named here…yet…found some* run at 5:50. In the morning.

I am a night person, and have witnesses to the fact. So how did I wind up in this crew of crazy women who have made this strange kind of torture a regular commitment, only to have the ultimate goal of a butt-kicking “final” torture-test?  (Note: final is in quotes because I have sneaky suspicions about how final it will really be with this particular party…).

In all honesty, I’m really not sure. I know that the Stellar Schemester and Evil Mastermind also known as one of my favorite people and dear friend, Staci Cox, threw it oh so casually into a conversation at some point maybe over lunch and I may have said I’d think about it. The next thing I remember (again, vaguely) is a conversation on New Year’s Eve walking around New Orleans where I brought up that I was thinking I’d join the AT class that all three of the other ladies in this plot already participate in, and Staci was like “great! So you’re in for the half-marathon too, right?” (really I am taking liberties with the verbage here…I mostly remember this beautiful, perfect day walking around NOLA w/friends, completely unaware what I was about to sign up for) and feeling inspired at the moment, I’m like “Sure!” (It can’t be that bad, right? In my head…)

Fast forward to today: week 3, day 1 of training. And previously referenced pajama-inducing day.  But I’m thinking a little more about today…and it was just a LONG day period. We had a lot of exciting and busy things going on at work, I think my brain was going a million miles a minute most of the day, lots of different things to do and deal with. And I didn’t get sleepy, or slow, or slide into a deep coma…not once. I had coffee, but not excessive amounts. So really, I don’t think this morning was to blame for the pajamas. I think that just kind of came with the territory of the day. I think the run, and having that little time of camaraderie and “woo-hoo we can do this!” with some really awesome people (sans one who was out and definitely missed but still included in “awesome people”!), both old and newish-to-me, was more what helped me through today. So I’m grateful, and excited, and I think this is good. And even though we all kind of moan and groan about our Crafty Captain, I’m pretty sure we all secretly (or not so secretly), feel the same way.  So Nashville, bring on your hills, here we come!

Samantha said it...

"You just wait for the stories" she said, in her first entry Oh dear.

I like to think that's where I come in. Not that we all won't have fantastic stories to share, but I like to think I'll be "that girl" that shares it all. Maybe my entries should come with a ratings warning? All I'm saying is brace yourselves.

Why am I doing this? Because Staci asked me to. And yes, if she asked me to jump off a cliff I most likely would - it's just that kind of friendship.

You can read our "conversation" if you can call sly-trickery: conversing by following the link above, but you should know that the start of all this being-healthy-challenging-myself-crazy-hooplah for me begins a few months ago. I was painting a friend's kitchen with (you guessed it) Staci and a few other ladies, listening to them converse about the Spartan Race we were all signed up for [gasp]. Yes folks, it is as awful as it sounds.

By the end of the evening I was convinced to sign up for a Versus Strength and Conditioning Athletic Training class after my soon-to-be coach sent me the link to this blog written by a woman who addresses the differences between the Spartan Race and the Warrior Dash (a topic from the evening's discussions). I knew if I didn't start doing something other than running walk-jogging on my own time, I wouldn't survive the race.

So, the next week I began my new training with Versus AT and after my very first class...

"I made it back to the bathroom but couldn't decide what I needed to do when I got there (vomit, sit, poop, cry...)" 

-Excerpt provided by tcktales

And that's where I pick up the stories that will accompany this hell half-marathon training. Vowel movements, as my grandmother refers to them and we too shall henceforth, are very real-and-completely-within-the-confines-of-appropriate-runners'-conversation-topics.

Our poor AT class didn't realize just how close I decided we had become the morning after Just-4-Kicks first experience implementing hills. If I told you I was "moving quick" up and down those beasts, mountains, hills but I'm not referring to my feet would you catch my drift? I asked our coach if he had ever heard of "runner's-gut".

"You mean where your stomach messes up when you're running?"

Yes. When your stomach messes up.

Coach had heard of people who experience vowel issues during long runs. "And when you say long-runs, what's that like, three miles?" I asked and cut my eyes at Staci.

Runner's gut and vowel movements aside don't you worry, there will be plenty of time for that, I'm excited about this challenge. I've been feeling restless and antsy lately and haven't been able to put my finger on why. I think this will be something to focus on living for a while, and it will certainly be something to write about.

These other women I'm in this with are fantastic people who I've slowly come to know (thanks in large part to Staci) and get excited about seeing in the mornings. Like Samantha said, it's way easier to get up and go that's really not supposed to be a vowel movement pun there when you know there are others relying on you for motivation and you rely on them. It's a win-win for everyone.

No, I'm not LOOKING FORWARD to running a four-mile-hill-route in the morning, or the vowels that will come before, during and after (literally, we take turns grunting, ugh'ing and other'ing things) but I'm excited to check one more training day off our list, together.

Oh dear.

Oh dear is exactly what I said after I agreed to "think" about running another half-marathon. I can still feel the pain that resonated through my body after half 1 and half 2. Staci would sigh and tell me that I am being dramatic. And she would be right - but when you don't even want to go to the bathroom because of the soreness that is shooting through your quads - I mean, come on... But I digress.

So yes, I said I would do it again. If we were having this conversation over coffee, right now, I would tell you that I secretly wanted to run another one. The one thing keeping me from doing so would have been the long runs. By the time we made it to the New Orleans half last year, I had no self-motivation for long training runs. After we reached 6 miles, I just didn't even want to think about running anymore.  Running is 90% mental. So before lacing my tennis shoes, I had already killed any motivation I had. Not to mention - I was slow. I hid behind the "I'm a slow runner" mantra. I was happy with an 11:30-12 minute mile. I was settling for mediocre.

After swearing off long distance running all together, I focused on the 5K. Three miles in my brain was entirely doable. Last fall, I started running with a guy friend of mine who is kinda fast. Okay, really fast... 7-8 minute mile fast. We ran one 5K together and while I could not compete with his speed - I pushed myself way further than I had before. In October I ran my first sub-10 minute mile and throughout November and December, I continued to set new PRs for myself. My fastest 5K being a 30:06 finish. I've come out from under the slow rock I've been happy to settle with and embraced the process of being better and faster than the last race.

I wasn't really asking, "what's next?" But! I could tell from the look on Staci's face as we approached the discussion that fateful morning that she really wanted to run another half-marathon. I was happy running faster 5Ks. However, I knew if she committed to running one - I would want in on the torture fun. Brilliantly - she reigned in Toni and Jessica. Group runs are TEN times better than solo runs, and I feel much more motivated to get up and run.

This past weekend we did 5 and we have 5 on tap for Saturday - and I'll be honest... I don't know if my motivation will increase or decrease as the mileage goes up. And I certainly do NOT enjoy hill training... Did Staci mention the Nashville course is one big hill!?  Well, it is. Either way - I think we've all been brought together for a reason. Whether that reason is to finish 13.1 miles or to grow closer as friends. Those that sweat together, stick together - right?  Whatever the reason - it should most definitely be a journey... with lots of laughter. You just wait for the stories...

This is happening. Right now.

This marks the start of our chronicles towards a half-marathon. Even though this is the beginning of week three in the training of a sixteen week schedule, its better late than never.

Who are we? Well, we are four friends from four very different backgrounds brought together by our college experience, Jessica, Samantha, Staci and Toni. We were definitely not brought together because of running, but alas, we have begun a journey to train for a half. 13.1 here we come.

How it all began...

Samantha and I ran the Rock N Roll New Orleans in 2012. At the end of the race, Samantha made it quite clear that distance running was over in her book, no more. That was it. Not being her first half-marathon, she felt she had experienced enough of the 13.1 with no desire to continue on for more. As for me, on the other hand, I felt that I may have caught the bug and I wanted more...

Fast forward to the beginning of 2013, the subject of half-marathons came up randomly. Wanting to do another, I tiptoed around getting Samantha on board. When I say tiptoed, I'm pretty sure I just blurted out, "Please let's do it again!! Will you please train with me??!". I'm not known for being subtle. Sweet Samantha begrudgingly replied with a sigh, "I will do it again FOR you".

So begins the scheming... Who else can I get on board?? This could be a lot of fun! It started with two and now we are a group of four. I'll let the others share in their stories of how they committed.

We don't have anything to prove except that we can do this. We are four running just for kicks!

Nashville or bust!