<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318</id><updated>2011-08-03T16:36:58.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mindless Musings of an Overpronator</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-3126080628481045356</id><published>2010-11-03T12:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T13:30:40.728-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Off-Season: Week Two</title><content type='html'>What does a runner *do* during the off-season? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, most of us still run and maintain some semblance of base mileage.  Two and a half weeks after my epic first marathon, I'm feeling a little blase about running at the moment.  Yes, I'm trying to run every other day for a minimum of three to five miles, and I did run a low-key 5k last weekend.  But my mind and body is telling me to take it easy and enjoy the off-season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So.  As mentioned in my previous post, I started my 'extreme body transformation' last week.  Since this exercise program is so 'extreme,' I've already lost 10 pounds and shred 3% of body fat off my post-marathon/chocolate-cake consuming self. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While those 10 minute ab sessions make me feel like I *should* be a lean flippin' machine, I've yet to be completely chiseled into a cut Greek goddess.  The one thing that I am concentrating on while doing those bouncy plyometrics (burpees=yuck) and endless one-minute push-up intervals is how I deal with pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I experience different types of pain, I really think that ab pain is the worst.  Flutter kicks, planks, crunches, v-ups, and a plethora of other ab exercises condensed to 10 minutes without any breaks = hellacious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I hate ab pain so much, I've made it my mission to learn how to accept and embrace it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, I haven't succeeded.  Yeah, I can run for four hours and I have a passionate love affair with speed workouts (and really any other running workout that makes me want to ralph), but ten-minute ab sessions do me in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New goal for off-season: CONQUER AB SESSIONS and YEARN FOR MORE.  Hopefully, with that attitude, I'll be extremely transformed in no time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-3126080628481045356?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/3126080628481045356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/11/off-season-week-two.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/3126080628481045356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/3126080628481045356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/11/off-season-week-two.html' title='Off-Season: Week Two'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-7613678061579480198</id><published>2010-10-26T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T08:56:12.982-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Off-Season</title><content type='html'>Has it already been a week and a half since my marathon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it really almost November?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I just read that snow is in our forecast later this week?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wha? Okay, I've reached the tipping point. I'm officially in my off-season. While I could plan a December marathon at a margarita-soaked beach destination and make a vacation of it, I'm gonna take it easy and learn how to do this training cycle thing that my running coach talks about. Since he allegedly knows what he's talking about...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me back up. I'm almost fully recovered from the marathon. I took most of the week off from intense exercise. But, I did engage in some hard-core chocolate caramel cake consumption. Well worth an extra chin. The day after the race, I had a heavenly massage. Ahhhhh. And then I mixed in some yoga here and there, finishing off the week with a murderous kettlebell class with my sadistic trainer. Sorry teres major muscles for hindering your ability to function (and thus making me curse everytime I put on my brassiere). But at least I know what those muscles are now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I did get out there and run. On both Sunday and yesterday, I ran for three miles on each day. Strange. Almost as if I was learning how to run again, thus prompting a few 'who-am-I' moments. Left hip was hurtin'. Right knee had something going on. Weird gait. And I did this for 26.2 miles just a week ago? Are you sure that was me? I want proof besides a collection of goofy race photos of me exposing some major thigh action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I will mix in some low-key running (20-25 miles per week) during my off-season, my major goal for the next couple of months will be to lose some body fat. I gained about eight pounds from marathon training (and an extra chin from last week's chocolate cake binge), and I want to mix up my fitness routine. I've been at my plateau for about a year now. Although I was annoyed with the weight gain initially, I forgot about it pretty quickly. I just figured that my body was adjusting to the training. No biggie. I got a marathon out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. I signed up for a 10-week 'body transformation' session with a friend. Don't get too excited. Besides waking up early every morning six days a week, looking like complete wee-early-morning crap, and awkwardly doing scissor kicks in front of others (of varying fitness levels), I think this will be a good thing. Plyometrics (burpees galore - eat your heart out), circuit training, strength training, kettlebells, kickboxing, and yoga will be involved. I can live with that. I might actually like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minus the cold weather and snow. And the creepy Santa Claus at the malls. But at least I can look forward to watching 'The Christmas Story' on AMC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the off-season!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-7613678061579480198?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/7613678061579480198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/10/off-season.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/7613678061579480198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/7613678061579480198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/10/off-season.html' title='The Off-Season'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-1960439446295569078</id><published>2010-10-19T14:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T15:49:27.408-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grateful</title><content type='html'>Damn. I'm grateful to be a marathoner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After five Clif shots, multiple cups of water and Gatorade, two blisters, one black toenail (my first ever!), and four hours and 12 minutes later, I officially became a marathoner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one of the best things to come out of Sunday's race? I finished wanting more. And I learned (or maybe taught myself) how to be grateful again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went into Sunday's race just wanting to get the thing over with while finishing strong. 'Strong' was my mantra; my marathon playlist was even titled 'Strong.' One of my main goals was to cross the finish line under 4:15. Luckily, I had a friend who was shooting for the same time. We ran together for the first 20 miles, which was great. I didn't feel pressured to talk all of the time, although I felt like her presence was a good distraction. We ran well together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She started to slow a bit around mile 20; I didn't want to leave her, as I was feeling guilty already for running a few paces ahead of her. When she said, "We're in survival mode. Go on. Each man for himself now," I picked up the pace and ran the last 10k on my own. This is the point where the 'real' race started. The first 20 miles were fairly comfortable and steady. I felt like it was a solid training run with aid stations and fun crowd support. I was waiting patiently for that mystical wall of pain and pure misery to hit me at mile 20...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it never came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, I had some very strange aches and pains along the way, but my so-called 'wall' was more like a two-mile annoyance. At mile 22, I started to see more people walking than running. The victims of the marathon were slowing, heads down, and clearly fatigued. Compared to them, I was feeling fairly well. For miles 23 through 25, I had to dig deep, I'll admit it. And it was annoying, mainly because I was so close to the finish, yet I still had to put in a solid effort to maintain my pace. But...it wasn't the worst pain I'd ever endured. I definitely struggled more in shorter races than I had for this little 26.2-miler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I saw the glorious 25th-mile marker. Wow. At this point, I turned off my Motley-Crue shoutin' iPod, and I started to smile. For running in my 25th mile, I was very lucid. I think I had a mile-long 'moment.' No loopiness or angry drunk episodes like during my long training runs. I felt strong; and I realized that I really am strong.  I made eye contact with several spectators and just smiled. I had never felt so grateful. For having complete strangers around me. For having my broad shoulders and imperfect body. For having my life. For being me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I find it sad that I don't have moments like that more often, I'm grateful that I was even able to experience it. People say that the marathon changes them; many first-timers say that they feel like they can do anything after running 26.2 miles. I'll agree that it changes you. But for me, I became genuinely grateful for everything that I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simple and sappy, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But damn. I'm a very lucky girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-1960439446295569078?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/1960439446295569078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/10/grateful.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/1960439446295569078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/1960439446295569078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/10/grateful.html' title='Grateful'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-1766183786159819641</id><published>2010-10-14T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T10:43:59.105-07:00</updated><title type='text'>99%</title><content type='html'>Sunday.  Sunday.  Sunday.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Funday&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Funday&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Funday&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After last week's post, I've calmed down a bit.  While I'm not in ultra-relaxed post-yoga mode, I am (with much effort) trying to keep a positive attitude about my upcoming marathon.  Okay, so I'll admit that I'm nervous.  The 'what-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;if's&lt;/span&gt;' creep into my brain every 10 seconds or so, but I attempt to block them out immediately.  And then they creep in again.  And then I squash them.&lt;br /&gt;Over and over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been watching marathon movies and documentaries all week.  Earlier this week, I read a bunch of running blogs highlighting each runner's 'first marathon.'  Reviewing a majority of these recaps wasn't such a good idea (for me, right now - at least), especially if you don't want to read about extreme pain, throbbing joints/muscles, missed &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;PR's&lt;/span&gt;, and post-run stomach ailments.  I will admit, however, that I have yet to read a D.N.F.-marathon post.  So, that's good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;keepin&lt;/span&gt;' it positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Anywho&lt;/span&gt;, back to the marathon movie marathon (M.M.M.).  First on the list was 'Spirit of the Marathon.'  Not bad.  I think I related the most to the woman who ran alone; I also prefer to run alone during training runs (we'll save this topic for another day).  I know all of you were expecting me to say that I relate to Deena &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kastor&lt;/span&gt; the most, as I, too, have a dog and my half marathon time beats her marathon PR.  And I've also placed first in a few local races of six people or less.  But, I don't have my own massage therapist and daily coach(es), nor do I engage in high-altitude training.  Oh, and I don't run with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Meb&lt;/span&gt; and Ryan Hall.  Yet.  Except at the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bix&lt;/span&gt; 7 on the other side of the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I liked most about 'Spirit of the Marathon' is that those who started the Chicago Marathon were able to finish.  Oh, and they didn't seem to 'hit the wall' as hard as the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bloggers&lt;/span&gt; I read earlier this week.  I know.  I should probably say that my favorite thing was the 'spirit' or something, but right now, at this point in time, what gives me hope for this Sunday is the 99% chance that I will actually make it to the finish line.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, positivity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*And at this finish line, I hope to find a chocolate long john with white frosting filling (as well as a six-ounce Michelob Ultra, of course).  Seriously.  I haven't had one in five years.  Like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 243px; HEIGHT: 131px" id="il_fi" src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:68wmLsW5a9RijM:http://persnicketypalate.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/long_john.jpg&amp;amp;t=1" width="286" height="176" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-1766183786159819641?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/1766183786159819641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/10/99.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/1766183786159819641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/1766183786159819641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/10/99.html' title='99%'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-902130819452712644</id><published>2010-10-07T09:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T10:08:34.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Purgatory</title><content type='html'>Now that I'm over my initial excitement of tapering (which lasted for about two hours after my 20-miler last Saturday), I am officially stuck in the dark depths of tapering. And alas, how fitting that this marathon lands in the frightful month of October.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coincidence? &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hmmmm&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, why don't we just have the Des &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Moines&lt;/span&gt; Marathon on October 31st? Seems like that would be more honest, since the idea of this race is one of the scariest things I've had to contemplate in recent memory (besides a couple of political figures, such as Steve King and a certain person from a certain state who can see a certain country from his/her house).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think tapering should be re-named. Purgatory is more fitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wiki's&lt;/span&gt; definition of purgatory is 'the condition or process of purification or temporary punishment.' I'm gonna emphasize 'temporary punishment.' Sure, I'm tapering to 'recover' (allegedly) from my hard training. I guess one could say that tapering is a process of purification via rest and recovery. But I call bull '&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;thit&lt;/span&gt;' on that notion. Tapering is (temporary) PUNISHMENT! It is SCARY &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;thit&lt;/span&gt;. At this stage of the game, I'm probably the most marathon-fearing person out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But come to think of it, running itself is also a form of purgatory. The process of purification and temporary punishment seem to fit into the general definition of running, right? And then after I 'deal' with purgatory, I get to reach a state of (five to seven minutes) of happiness and glory, and I get to eat/drink/smoke/snort whatever I want for that day? Right? That's how this is supposed to work, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to have nightmares tonight. Jason, Carrie, Dr. Hannibal, Christine (you know, Stephen King's evil red car - she was freaky), and Freddy &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Krueger&lt;/span&gt;. Ha. They're child's play. They are nothing compared to the beast of tapering. And the idea of running a marathon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scary &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;thit&lt;/span&gt;, man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-902130819452712644?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/902130819452712644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/10/purgatory.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/902130819452712644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/902130819452712644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/10/purgatory.html' title='Purgatory'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-2496031218810680616</id><published>2010-10-05T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T09:33:58.285-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chronicles of Tape-Ring-ia</title><content type='html'>Oh yes, dear readers. We've made it to the wonderfully weird stage of marathon training, otherwise known as TAPERING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WTF. WTP(hantom). Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before my stupid-a$$ decision to run a marathon, I thought TAPE-RING was just a little ring-like object made of magical tape that Frodo and his little people friends (with giant, hairy feet) and that old guy wizard dude were trying to find in the Land of Narnia or whatever. But now that I've completed my epic 20 mile run (Clif Shots, I love you and am offering my hand in marriage), I'm stuck in the Chronicles of Tape-Ring-ia and all of a sudden I'm confronted with Voldemort's piercing Phantom Pains and the Wicked Witch of Bloat-ithia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TAPE-RING sucks. I don't know what Frodo and Smigel (CREEPY) see in that thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voldemort's Phantom Pain People of the Dark Wizadry Alliance Organization have zeroed in on my right hip flexor. Not cool, V.P.P.O.D.W.A.O. Where are Harry and Hermoine (really, since she's the one who runs the show over there and you KNOW that Harry has a thing for her) when you need them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the Wicked Witch of Bloat-ithia? Tilda Swinton plays her; you know who I'm talking about. She must have injected my veins with massive amounts of evil liquid-bean-potion while I was sleeping. And that one professor lady-good witch who deals in potions at Hogwarts cannot be reached via owl air mail right now because hunting season has started in the Midwest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing that my layover in Tape-Ring-ia is only for another two weeks. The V.P.P.O.D.W.A.O. is driving me mad...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-2496031218810680616?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/2496031218810680616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/10/chronicles-of-tape-ring-ia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/2496031218810680616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/2496031218810680616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/10/chronicles-of-tape-ring-ia.html' title='Chronicles of Tape-Ring-ia'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-2615595346928835687</id><published>2010-09-16T14:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T14:36:51.434-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Half-Marathon PR and...19 Miles</title><content type='html'>We're now in week 'blah blah blah' of marathon training.  Yep, I still have no clue how long I've been training.  I just train.  I do what my coach tells me to do, as I curse under my breath and keep &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;truckin&lt;/span&gt;' away.  It's been quite an adventure so far, full of misery, pain, and...a PR!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran in Waterloo this past weekend for the annual Park to Park Half Marathon.  Multiple running buddies had mentioned this race as 'THE' half marathon to do, as it really caters to runners.  Sunny, 60 degrees, and FLAT as a buttermilk pancake.  Excellent race support.  A true 'runner's race.'  Perfect conditions to PR.  And PR I did.  I finally broke my 1:50 shadow; that thing has been following me around for a too long (out, damned spot)...!  I barely made it (1:49:47 to be exact), but I did.  And I celebrated with a bagel and a six-ounce beer.  No Twinkies could be found at the finish line this time.  And then we drove home to watch the Iowa &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hawkeyes&lt;/span&gt; show why they're the 'only football team in the state' (I *heart* Adrian Clayborn, but not in a creepy way like that stalker he had last year).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I would've LOVED to take it easy this week, I had to get in 19 miles this morning.  This is a run I usually do on Saturday mornings, but I'm flying to New Orleans this weekend.  And I'm not about to do a 19-mile training run in a foreign land.  I can handle shorter distances when I'm visiting unfamiliar territory, but 19 miles is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pushin&lt;/span&gt;' it.  So.  I took this morning off from work (I think my work colleagues already suspect that I'm a little nutty, anyway).  And I got in 19 SLOW miles of pain, misery, tight shoulders/neck (what up with that, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;kidz&lt;/span&gt;?), and Chocolate Outrage &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Gu&lt;/span&gt; (YUM). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that it hurt?  And that I just wanted to go home and fall asleep to the b*&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;tch&lt;/span&gt; slaps of the Real Housewives of D.C.? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I marched on.  I wanted to call it quits at mile 13, but I also wanted to get in this mother &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;flippin&lt;/span&gt;' 19-miler done.  I don't think I gave myself enough recovery time; I think a couple more days of recovery from the half would've been ideal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, at least I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;PR'd&lt;/span&gt; on Saturday.  And I *think* I have one more long run before I go &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;marathonal&lt;/span&gt; (aka TAPER).  And at least I get to celebrate this weekend by going to New Orleans.  Bring on the hurricanes and naughty food, already.  I've got a marathon to run!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-2615595346928835687?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/2615595346928835687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/09/half-marathon-pr-and19-miles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/2615595346928835687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/2615595346928835687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/09/half-marathon-pr-and19-miles.html' title='Half-Marathon PR and...19 Miles'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-3243800847198857788</id><published>2010-09-08T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T11:55:03.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Numb and Drunk</title><content type='html'>I ran 17 miles this past Saturday.  That's the longest distance I've run.  Ever.  And I didn't pass out.  I didn't die.  I was able to run the entire time.  I got a weird type of runner's high, too.  But I'll talk about that later in this post...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marathon training is 'interesting.'  Every Saturday I wake up early to a b*&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tch&lt;/span&gt; slap of a long run.  Whether it's 13 miles or 17, I tend to get to a point where pain is pain and 'it' becomes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;flippin&lt;/span&gt;' numb.  Actually, my mind becomes numb while my body (specifically my lower abs, trunk, and hamstrings) awakens in pain.  My body starts to hurt around mile seven or eight.  At about mile 10, I tend to think, 'Well, I've gone this far.  Why stop?'  Those two sentences tend to dominate my mind on these long runs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, whatever works...(!)  I'll take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And about that runner's high: I seem to be getting very loopy later on in my runs.  Loopy.  Like, drunk.  I don't know if this is a type of 'runner's high' or what.  It's almost as if I get a little giddy because I'm almost finished with a long, hard run.  After this giddiness subsides, I'll get a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pissy&lt;/span&gt;.  I live in a high-traffic area, and I've started to yell at cars for getting in my way.  Kind of like an angry drunk.  Yep, and cussing.  This happens a few blocks away from my condo; I get so anxious to FINISH the run, that I don't want to stop for a Hummer (R.I.P. obnoxious S.U.V.-military vehicle machine thing) or any other car.  I want to be DONE!  Hence, the mean drunk '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;tude&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I'm running a half marathon on Saturday morning.  My goal is to PR (like, under 1:50.  Please.  Already).  Unlike the Drake Half I ran this past April, I want to feel good and strong at the end of this race.   I want to have a kick and not want to die. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hopefully, I won't turn into the angry drunk at the end of the race.  Cross your fingers that I don't become 'that girl.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-3243800847198857788?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/3243800847198857788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/09/numb-and-drunk.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/3243800847198857788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/3243800847198857788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/09/numb-and-drunk.html' title='Numb and Drunk'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-8208578151172412325</id><published>2010-08-26T09:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T10:22:03.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bring it.</title><content type='html'>Yep, September is rolling around.  The long awaited month-before-the-marathon is approaching, and it is, in my esteemed coach's words, 'the toughest month of marathon training.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bring it on, kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week has been strange.  I had a 'short' 5k race this past Saturday in Sherman Hill.  As the name indicates, the quaint neighborhood is full of intense hills.  And although it was advertised as a 5k, it was really 2.86 miles.  Lame.  I finished first in my age group (again, bring it), but there was no time to celebrate, as I had to get in another seven miles immediately following my race.  Who knew that seven miles could be more gruelling than a 14-miler?  Seriously.  It's crazy how mentally challenging it is to continue running after a race. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday, my coach 'gave' me an easy day of six miles.  And then I met with him on Wednesday.  My face-to-face training sessions freak me out a bit.  And they kinda pump me up.  Oh, the paradox of running!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Anywho&lt;/span&gt;, the plan was to run 3x10-minutes at tempo pace with a two minute jog between each.  I was able to put in negative splits at my interval pace. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, bring on September. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm ready.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-8208578151172412325?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/8208578151172412325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/08/bring-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/8208578151172412325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/8208578151172412325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/08/bring-it.html' title='Bring it.'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-1441901293763033554</id><published>2010-08-18T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T14:12:17.594-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Week Blah Blah Blah of Marathon Training...</title><content type='html'>So, it's August.  Mid-August, to be exact.  State Fair time.  And where have I been?  No, not in the hog barn gawking at large beasts while eating a fried Twinkie and a tenderloin.  I've been logging miles and miles of endless pavement and sweat (and more sweat) in extreme humidity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I *think* I'm in my sixth week of marathon training.  Don't ya like how I'm not really sure how long I've been officially training?  It seems like my entire existance is centered around my four runs of each week.  They look something like this (more or less):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday: Speed work.  Swoon.&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: Tempo or Kenyan run.  Smile.&lt;br /&gt;Friday: 4-5 mile easy run.  La di-da.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday: Long run.  Uhhh, okay.&lt;br /&gt;Sunday: EAT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday is track day.  I like Mondays.  A lot.  There's nothing like driving home from the track at 7 AM, completely drenched in sweat and ready for Monday.  It's a great way to start off the week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday is usually a quick run around the neighborhood.  Tempo runs and Kenyan runs are not as fun as track days.  I like that Wednesdays are usually challenging, though; I find that the last half mile of the tempo run is the toughest part for me.  So, I guess I'm doing it right (at least that's what my coach tells me). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fridays are easy.  I don't put too much thought into these nice, smooth runs.  I try to ENJOY these, but I find it difficult not to increase speed in the last mile.  Yes, I need to learn a little discipline, folks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then Saturday rolls around.  Remember those days of running races while completely hungover (and perhaps still intoxicated)?  No more partying for this girl.  I'm in bed by 10 PM on Friday nights, only to wake up at 5:40 on Saturday morning.  After a small bowl of oats and agave syrup, I'm off for a long run.  All by myself.  In the dark.  No one to talk to.  But myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I need to join a group for these long ones.  Boredom has started to creep in...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep.  It's Week Blah Blah Blah of Marathon Training.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-1441901293763033554?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/1441901293763033554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/08/week-blah-blah-blah-of-marathon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/1441901293763033554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/1441901293763033554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/08/week-blah-blah-blah-of-marathon.html' title='Week Blah Blah Blah of Marathon Training...'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-7450920933913750310</id><published>2010-07-29T14:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T15:15:25.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bix Recap</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bix&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Bix&lt;/span&gt;.  Where does one start?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I raced.  As much as I could.  And I followed up the race with a beer and a bright yellow-ish &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Twinkie&lt;/span&gt;.  Balance, people.  Balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started when we (my mom, aunt, and cousin) woke up at 6 AM on Saturday morning, preparing for the busy morning ahead.  While one would assume that this is enough time to dress, eat, and drive nine miles to the race, one would be completely wrong in this case...(!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My aunt is known to be THE DILLY-DALLIER.  Because of this, we didn't park the car until FIVE minutes before a race (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;BIX&lt;/span&gt;) with 12,000 participants.  Seriously.  Parked about an eighth of a mile away, I jumped out of the car and yelled to my fellow family of runners, "I'll meet you at the running statues!"  Hopping puddles and dodging other dilly dalliers (and their 'victims'), I got to the starting line right as the national anthem ended. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay.  Here we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of minutes later, we were off and running.  Kinda.  If practically walking up a hill is running. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Bix&lt;/span&gt; got me again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, it wasn't the pouring rain that kept me down.  Nor the massive, never-ending hills.  People.  People brought me down.  All of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;flippin&lt;/span&gt;' people running and/or walking slowly.  All of those people who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;should've&lt;/span&gt; lined up toward the back of the corral.  Just like last year, I was cursing and running on the sidewalks, and then on the grassy boulevard.  I saw a few people trip over other runners (and literally fall).  And then I saw the glow of Antonio Vega, Ryan Hall, and Lisa &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Koll&lt;/span&gt;, making their final push to the finish line.  That distracted me for about ten seconds or so... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hill training came in very handy for this race; I was able to run "through" the hills, only to be practically stopped by others who (again) practically walked once they got to the top of said hills.  At about mile five, I finally got some room and was able to pick up some speed.  While I didn't reach my goal of running under an eight-minute mile pace, I did improve my chip time by a few minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I did partake in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Twinkie&lt;/span&gt;.  Twinkies just aren't as good as they used to be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I waited for half an hour for my other family members, shivering in the rain while drinking beer and gnawing on my crappy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Twinkie&lt;/span&gt;, I thought about the whole race experience.  So weird, when you think about it.  12,000 stinky runners/walkers, as happy as can be, drinking beer and gobbling Ho-Ho's in the pouring rain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While pissed about my time, I was one of those happy runners.  Weird.  Running is a paradox.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-7450920933913750310?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/7450920933913750310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/07/bix-recap.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/7450920933913750310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/7450920933913750310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/07/bix-recap.html' title='Bix Recap'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-4308059452184049759</id><published>2010-07-22T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T12:32:04.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Race Or Not To Race...</title><content type='html'>It was about a year ago when I ran the infamous (and insanely frustrating) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bix&lt;/span&gt; 7 in Davenport, Iowa.  The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Bix&lt;/span&gt; is an annual seven-mile race that includes two 'severe hills.'  For the second year in a row, it's also the American National 7 Mile Championship (yeah - I'm defending my national title, folks).  It's a HUGE race that attracts major elite runners, such as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Meb&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Keflezighi&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;FAM&lt;/span&gt; (the eccentric Anthony &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Famiglietti&lt;/span&gt; - one of my faves)  and for this year - Ryan Hall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Major star-power.  Killer hills.  Shots during the race (kindly distributed by race fans).  Michelob Ultra at the finish line.  And Twinkies (seriously).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One would think that these are perfect elements for someone who likes middle distance races and free booze.  It's also a fab run for those who like to gawk at elites at about mile three when they're (the physically attractive elites) in their last mile, pushing for the finish line.  Last year I almost tripped while staring away at the awesome-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ness&lt;/span&gt; of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Meb&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it all seems too ideal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until you get to the starting line and you don't cross it until 10 minutes later.  Behind walkers and those who line up according to their IQ and not their real time.  Lame.  I'm surprised I didn't get kicked out of the race last year due to cussing loudly while running up one of those 'severe hills' in the first mile, meandering between walkers and those runners who walk in the first mile.  Seriously.  People.  Get with the program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, but I digress.  Obviously, I didn't hit my goal time last year.  And this year I'm considering downing a few beers before the race.  My mother is running this for the third year in a row; and for the first time ever, my aunt and cousin are also partaking in the 'fun.'  So...I could 'race' and try to line-up behind Ryan and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;FAM&lt;/span&gt;.  Or, I could get a nice buzz going and continue to consume adult beverages in the form of Jell-O shots throughout the race. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, perhaps I could do both...?* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Do you think I could persuade Ryan and FAM to a couple of rounds?  Ummmm.  Totally.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-4308059452184049759?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/4308059452184049759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/07/to-race-or-not-to-race.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/4308059452184049759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/4308059452184049759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/07/to-race-or-not-to-race.html' title='To Race Or Not To Race...'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-2792595599031773652</id><published>2010-07-08T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-08T11:19:15.322-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And so, it begins...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Oye&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Vey&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, the official start of marathon training took place this past Monday, July 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; - a 'holiday,' as I didn't have to work.  That's right, folks - America celebrated the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Overpronator's&lt;/span&gt; first day of marathon training by guzzling cheap beer, eating grilled cheeseburgers (YUM!), and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;oooooh&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt; and awe-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt; at fireworks - all while I ran the barren streets of downtown Des &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Moines&lt;/span&gt;, huffing and puffing and trying to run off that demonic chocolate cake I ate the day before...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has begun.  And on day four, I'm still going. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On October 17&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, I will partake in the Des &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Moines&lt;/span&gt; Marathon.  Needless to say, I am a marathon virgin.  Yes, I've completed a couple of 20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;k's&lt;/span&gt; (DAM IT!) and a total of three half marathons, as well as countless 5k races.  But the beast of the marathon looms, and I really want to conquer that mother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I digress.  I started this week with an easy five miles, followed by a couple of tempo runs and then a nine miler coming up this Sunday.  Not bad.  I can do this, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the one thing that will help me conquer the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;motha&lt;/span&gt; is remembering to take it one day at a time.  My running coach does not put my entire marathon training schedule online, meaning that I have not seen the entire master plan.  I'm only able to see my training plan one week at a time.  This is good.  My mind doesn't get wrapped up on how LONG the training plan is, nor do I get obsessed about how hard it's gonna be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Oye&lt;/span&gt;.  But it's still gonna be hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-2792595599031773652?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/2792595599031773652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/07/and-so-it-begins.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/2792595599031773652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/2792595599031773652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/07/and-so-it-begins.html' title='And so, it begins...'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-5295347229999437760</id><published>2010-06-25T11:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T11:52:28.825-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Naked</title><content type='html'>Ever run naked? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, naked.  You read it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No watch.  No &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Garmin&lt;/span&gt;.  No emphasis on time or splits.  Or distance, really.  Just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;runnin&lt;/span&gt;'.  Naked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my Dam to Dam race, my coach has been taking it easy on me.  He hasn't assigned any speed workouts, nor has he increased my long runs.  My longest run for the past week has been about six miles.  That's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I a little worried about maintaining my fitness and endurance? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ummm&lt;/span&gt;.  Yeah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I appreciate this little 'break,' I was getting used to running &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-naked.  I was starting to look forward to structured workouts - and the constant urge to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ralph&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my issue regarding 'naked' running is that I'm afraid of losing.  Losing endurance.  Losing speed.  Losing fitness.  And although my coach has been emphasizing the need for rest and recovery (cycles, really), I'm not yet completely comfortable with the idea that I should 'peak' and then rest and recover in order to peak again.  While I know I shouldn't be at peak condition at all times - I feel like I've worked so hard to improve my running.  Why should I relax and 'lose' what I've worked so hard to accomplish?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just need to embrace naked running.  And enjoy it while I can...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-5295347229999437760?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/5295347229999437760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/06/naked.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/5295347229999437760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/5295347229999437760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/06/naked.html' title='Naked'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-3245462800138921979</id><published>2010-06-17T08:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T08:44:45.901-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Week Without Running</title><content type='html'>Weird. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'll be honest.  I had a four-day 'vacation' from running after Dam to Dam.  Four &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;freakin&lt;/span&gt;' days.  Did I survive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to two-a-day workouts (spin class, yoga, and/or circuit training), I got through my 'recovery phase.'  I'm not saying that I wasn't a major crab or anything.  I tend to get really b*tchy when I don't run.  Ask my family.  And my dog, Otto.  They'd rather deal with my obsessive running addiction than put up with stank-eye Stacy, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;putzing&lt;/span&gt; around the house, depressed and angry.  I get unbearable.  I can't help it.  Must be some type of chemical imbalance that is out of my control...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank god that's over.  Now I am fully recovered (okay, and somewhat refreshed) from my satisfactory performance at Dam to Dam.  And I've been putting in some miles this past week.  Last night I had a challenging speed workout with my esteemed coach.  He rides his bike and gives me feedback while I spit bugs from my mouth and deal with my legs of lead.  It's nice having a talking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Garmin&lt;/span&gt; give me feedback and encouragement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again.  Thank god 'recovery' is over.  While I may have some hard work ahead of me (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ummm&lt;/span&gt;, like training for a marathon - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;whateva&lt;/span&gt;), I'd rather suffer through it than be a stank-eye...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-3245462800138921979?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/3245462800138921979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/06/week-without-running.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/3245462800138921979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/3245462800138921979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/06/week-without-running.html' title='A Week Without Running'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-6643785055880515055</id><published>2010-06-09T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T14:41:07.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dam to Dam!</title><content type='html'>Dam rain.  Dam wind.  Dam soggy shoes.  Dam to the Dam!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started late last week - one by one, little 'issues' popping up before Dam to Dam, the largest 20k race in the nation.  Tapering was freaking me out.  I had a little too much wine on Thursday night while watching 'Best In Show' (for the n-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;teenth&lt;/span&gt; time).  And then I got a call Friday morning from my mother, informing me that she was driving herself to the emergency room due to a numb left arm and major dizziness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, my mind wasn't really on Dam to Dam Friday.  I sat in the air-conditioned hospital with my grandparents all day.  My grandpa touted the benefits of a Western diet ('fried chicken and mashed potatoes'), trying to convince my grandma and I that my mother's diet (which is much like mine, consisting of TONS of vegetables and whole foods) is the source of her sickness.  Yeah.  It was that kind of day, with a couple of one-minute interruptions from various doctors asking my mother what she ate for breakfast and then making her identify a photo of Abe Lincoln (seriously).  While my mom is still alive and very much kicking, she has to go to the cardiologist this week to run some tests.  I have a feeling that it was just gas that made her feel like crap.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;.  Perhaps grandpa is on to something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Anywho&lt;/span&gt;, I get to sleep at 11 PM on Friday, only to wake up at 5 AM.  After some oatmeal and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;chia&lt;/span&gt; seed, I put on my race-day best and then hopped on the yellow school bus at 5:45 AM.  This is how they do Dam to Dam: catch a bus by 5:45 AM; the bus takes runners to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Saylorville&lt;/span&gt; Dam; and then the runners wait until the gun goes off at 7 AM.  Well, it was cold.  Raining.  Windy.  The bus dropped us off at 6:15.  So...I popped a squat in the woods (everyone does it) and then stood in the rain with thousands of other soaked runners, just wanting to get the show on the road.  Shoes soaked and soggy socks, I tried not to focus on the shivering mouths of the woman next to me.  There were approximately four thoughts in my head at this time, including:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is the LAST time I do this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My bed is warm and cozy.  Thus I want to get on a bus and go home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let's get this DAM race going already."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Blisters."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, we were off at 7:05 AM.  Feeling good once I got a half mile into the race, I tried to focus on pace; I didn't want to go out too hard, like I always do.  The first six miles went a little slow - lots of wind (I'm *that* girl who takes advantage of drafting), and a few teenage boys running while throwing cups of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;agua&lt;/span&gt; at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;each other&lt;/span&gt; after every water station.  I was really trying to slow my pace to a 9-minute mile, which is on the slow side for me.  I was all over the place during the first half of the race in terms of pacing.  Each mile I made it my goal to slow down and really hit a 9-minute pace.  I was able to slow it down around miles 7 through 9. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the smartest thing I've ever done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miles 9 through the end of the race (12.4, to be exact) went EXTREMELY well.  I was hitting negative splits and ended up doing a 7:48 in the last mile.  I didn't feel like I wanted to die (which is usually how I feel during the last few miles of a half).  I was able to kick it into high gear and pass tons of people.  Just how I like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My final chip time was 1:46:23.  Last year I was finished the race in 1:50:45.  8:34 vs. 8:55.  Sure, I'll take it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I'll be back for this Dam race next year.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Sorry for the lack of info regarding the organization of the race.  This is one of the most organized races I've ever experienced.  Lots of water stations and volunteer support.  And a very efficient packet pick-up.  Oh, and they give you a dri-fit shirt.  Score!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-6643785055880515055?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/6643785055880515055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/06/dam-to-dam.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/6643785055880515055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/6643785055880515055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/06/dam-to-dam.html' title='Dam to Dam!'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-2457316905021876069</id><published>2010-06-01T12:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T12:37:21.318-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tapering?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmmmmm&lt;/span&gt;.  I don't know how to taper.  It freaks me out.  Cut down on running BEFORE a race?  Weird.  Scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I believe I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I have a running coach who plans my workouts and helps me stay on track (both literally and figuratively).  It's been working out very well, as I've incorporated a lot of speed work and hill training.  While the workouts themselves are tougher (you know, higher heart rate, tiring legs, and the urge to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ralph&lt;/span&gt;), I feel like running itself is 'easier' because I have a clear-cut plan and am more focused. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That said, I have a 20k this Saturday (the notorious Dam to Dam - one of the country's largest 20k races).  Since the Drake Half Marathon, I haven't been getting in a lot of mileage.  I've been diligently following my coach's plan, but his plan hasn't been so focused on THE long run.  While I was *supposed* to run only seven miles on Sunday (yes - that's it!), I kinda sneaked in a couple more miles.  Why?  Because I'm scared.  I need confidence.  Especially before a longer race like Dam to Dam.  Yep.  I'm a pussy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other words - I don't have enough confidence to taper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hmmmm&lt;/span&gt;.  Maybe that's something I should work on...(!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(So, I'll just leave it at that, since I've made this post into a therapy session.** &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**At least this therapy session is free and allows me to work on my writing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;skillz&lt;/span&gt;...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-2457316905021876069?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/2457316905021876069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/06/tapering.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/2457316905021876069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/2457316905021876069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/06/tapering.html' title='Tapering?'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-2699138994705442006</id><published>2010-05-25T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T13:18:37.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hills.  Humidity.  Hard.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://baytrail.abag.ca.gov/vtour/map4/access/CyteHils/Bayview_Tr_Grn_Hills.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 360px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 263px" alt="" src="http://baytrail.abag.ca.gov/vtour/map4/access/CyteHils/Bayview_Tr_Grn_Hills.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Those were the exact words I posted on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; page after a 6 PM run yesterday. The statement sums up the run. In other words, it was HELL.  While I'd like to run along cold blue lakes and picture-perfect mounds of green grass (as so dreamily depicted in the photo to the left), I was barely moving along gum-stained and urine-tainted cement.  Trying to seek refuge in the shadows of ugly buildings, I could not escape the humidity - nor the sun's heavy blanket!  I was suffocating.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The plan was to do a mile warm-up, followed 10x150m hills (with 150m recovery), and then a mile cool-down.  The humidity had me at the first quarter mile.   I'd assumed that it wouldn't be *that* bad - with all of the speed work and focused training I'd done in the past few weeks.  But no.  I was yet again humbled by the seemingly simple act of running.  While I did complete my mission, I stumbled into my condo, soaked to the core, wondering if/how I'm going to survive marathon training in the upcoming summer heat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Summer is a-comin' to Iowa, and this girl needs to prepare...and hydrate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-2699138994705442006?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/2699138994705442006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/05/hills-humidity-hard.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/2699138994705442006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/2699138994705442006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/05/hills-humidity-hard.html' title='Hills.  Humidity.  Hard.'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-8511574080930869542</id><published>2010-05-17T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T11:20:39.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Intervals, Strides, Tempo Runs...Oh My!</title><content type='html'>I never thought this day would come.  I now look forward to hard runs - like the ones listed in today's post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've run on the high school track quite a bit these past couple of weeks.  I HATED the track in high school; even the sight of black rubber with pristine white lines used to make me want to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ralph&lt;/span&gt;.  Memories of running the 1500 and 3k invaded my mind &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I thought of the track.  I would get SO bored running back then.  Eight laps felt like eternity when I was in my teens.  During track meets, I'd enlist my friends (who were lucky enough to run the 100- or 200-meter races) to entertain me while running the 3k.  Two-sentence conversations, anything - I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;desperate&lt;/span&gt; for someone/something to make me forget I was running eight laps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twelve years later, I'm CRAVING the track.  I'm not saying that I LOVE running 6x400s - especially not during the actual interval.  Really, I want to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ralph&lt;/span&gt; during those uncomfortable runs.  But, the feeling AFTER those runs are BLISS.  Seriously.  It's a major high that is not attained after a long, easy run.  It's special.  Maybe it's the rubber that emits that certain high.  I dunno.  I don't care.  I want more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Addicted?  Thank god.  Yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-8511574080930869542?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/8511574080930869542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/05/intervals-strides-tempo-runsoh-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/8511574080930869542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/8511574080930869542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/05/intervals-strides-tempo-runsoh-my.html' title='Intervals, Strides, Tempo Runs...Oh My!'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-4891064737733024628</id><published>2010-05-14T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T09:56:39.109-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marathon Training (For 'Reals')...</title><content type='html'>Yes, after a not-so-brief hiatus, the Overpronator is back and pounding the pavement.  I've actually been running since my last post.  And I have been cross-training.  And I've showed up hungover for a couple of races (what's new?).  And all-in-all, I've been livin' the dream, folks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a couple of highlights since my last post:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Completed Des Moines Half-Marathon in October '09&lt;br /&gt;Completed (and survived complete hell) Drake On-The-Roads Half Marathon in April '10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be honest with you, I *thought* my training this year compared to last year has been spot-on.  Okay, so I've missed a couple of longer runs here and there, but I've kicked up the speed work.  When I signed up for the Drake Half-Marathon, my goal was to beat my PR.  I missed it by a minute.  I blame the hills.  These hills were practically ALL in the last half of the race, and they were those long, annoying never-ending energy-suckers.  I was a-hurtin' during those last couple of miles.  So...I struggled to the finish line, feeling defeated and pissed.  And de-hydrated.  And hungry.  And pissed.  Screw the medal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That said, since then, I've hired a running coach.  I'm that serious.  Hard-core, if you will.  I started his training plan late last week.  I'll keep you posted on how this is all going.  So far, I've completed THREE speed-work sessions.  On a track.  'Nuff said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-4891064737733024628?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/4891064737733024628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/05/marathon-training-for-reals.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/4891064737733024628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/4891064737733024628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2010/05/marathon-training-for-reals.html' title='Marathon Training (For &apos;Reals&apos;)...'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-4680434248115460962</id><published>2009-07-29T14:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T14:25:25.399-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bix 7</title><content type='html'>This past Saturday morning, I ran my first &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bix&lt;/span&gt; 7 in Davenport, Iowa.  While I knew this was a big race, I didn't know just how many participants would grace the hills of D-Port.  Okay, so there were 18,000 people in this race.  That's the biggest race I've ever been in; and probably the most annoying race I've ever ran!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was feeling good at the start of the race.  I consumed my trusty blueberry pancakes about two hours beforehand, and I knew that I had properly trained for the hills.  I did notice, however, that my mother (she ran it too) and I were lined up toward the end of the second pace group.  Not good.  I also noticed that there were just three tiers, including the elites.  Not cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started the race and we were off hitting the first mile, which is a large hill.  Loved the hill.  HATED the walkers.  I know 'hate' is a strong word, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;GEEZ&lt;/span&gt;.  I had TONS of walkers in front of me, blocking the runners' paths and contributing to my growing annoyance.  With 18,000 participants, I soon realized that I was not going to PR.  I was hoping to average an eight-minute mile, as this is a tough course full of challenging hills.  I quickly discovered that I'd be lucky to average a nine-minute mile.  My first mile was over 11 minutes, followed by a 10-minute second mile.  Ugh.  Not good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the crowd and volunteer (water, ice, etc.) support were excellent throughout the race, I was still pissed.  Cursing under my breath, I weaved between people who woke up and just decided to participate in a seven-mile race without any training (and lined up at the start improperly).  I didn't get a break until about mile five, and from there, I was able to put on some speed.  While I averaged an 8:45 minute mile in the end, I had tons of energy to still expend once I finished.  I did not deserve the free beer and Twinkies at the post-party!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I know I may sound mean (and I'm really not an evil person), but COME ON!  Is it necessary to line up in the incorrect tier and walk the first mile?!?!  I think not.  But...that's just me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although the overall weekend in D-Port was fun and relaxing, if I ever do the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Bix&lt;/span&gt; again, I will stop and accept a supporter's invitation to partake in shots and beer.  Why not?  On that note, I guess I'll be back at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Bix&lt;/span&gt; 7 next year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-4680434248115460962?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/4680434248115460962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2009/07/bix-7.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/4680434248115460962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/4680434248115460962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2009/07/bix-7.html' title='Bix 7'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-4673313627667755420</id><published>2009-07-14T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T13:36:15.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'>July Doldrums</title><content type='html'>Since it's been such a long time since my last post (my apologies, dedicated readers), I've decided to buck up and give you a rundown of the past few weeks.  Here's the recap:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you forgot, I went to San Francisco for a weekend getaway the last weekend of June.   Although I've been there multiple times, I hadn't been there for about nine years (since my 21st birthday, to be exact).  I LOVE this city.  Great weather, beautiful, cute neighborhoods, and...HILLS.  Yes, we were "overserved" in Napa Valley, and we went to the wharf (UGH!  Not my favorite place) for overpriced crab.  But...I did get a workout in almost every day, and this includes running the HILLS (these things should be illegal; seriously).  I met up with a Saturday morning running group that meets at Club One, a gym at the upscale Fairmont.  They were very friendly and the lead trainer gave tons of tips about running in the city.  Not only did I meet new people, but I also learned the layout of the city.  PERFECT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I did not want to leave the land of trolleys, I had to return to Des Moines for the Fourth of July.  Luckily, my hill training in San Francisco prepared me for the annual Fourth of July run in a nearby suburb.  Before this 5k, my PR was 25:30.  I knew I could run faster than that, but I didn't expect to reduce it by much more than a minute and a half.  Well, dear readers, yours truly clocked in at 23:30.  Although this may be somewhat slow to all of my elite runner-readers, this is fast for a short and stubby girl like me.  To celebrate, I went home and watched a little of the Real Housewives of New Jersey (bad, I know), while making a homemade batch of Guinness baked beans for a party.  These beans were amazing, I have to admit.  They were renamed "sassy beans" at the party; quite fitting, as they did have a kick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a long weekend of Fourth of July festivities, I've been focused on hill and strength training.  I also started another round of yoga today.  So, yoga isn't really something I get excited for, but I always feel great after a session.  I feel that it's a decent workout for balance and flexibility; I also feel SO relaxed when the instructor says, "Namaste." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear readers, on that note, I think this is the perfect time to end this entry with, "Namaste."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-4673313627667755420?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/4673313627667755420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2009/07/july-doldrums.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/4673313627667755420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/4673313627667755420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2009/07/july-doldrums.html' title='July Doldrums'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-2667575292495895671</id><published>2009-06-24T13:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T13:38:49.247-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Running Tours</title><content type='html'>This weekend I am headed to San Francisco with some friends for a long weekend of full-fledged FUN.  I happened to stumble upon this trip after a long day of drinking (read: do not surf travel sites while intoxicated), and found a great deal.  Round trip airfare plus four nights at a boutique hotel for a total of $410.  Not bad, eh?  And, it happens to be Pride weekend in San Francisco.  Although completely unplanned, we chose an excellent weekend to visit.  Pride weekend in San Fran will be C-R-A-Z-Y.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While there are multiple trips planned to Citizen Cake, Beach Blanket Babylon, and Badlands, I am going to try my best to fit in a run or two.  I think one of the best ways to see a city is by hitting the pavement and exploring the urban jungle.  And guess what?  There are running tours in the fair city of San Francisco!  Thanks to a tip from another running tour company, City Running Tours (tours in New York, Chicago, Austin, Washington, DC, Charleston, and San Diego -&lt;a href="http://www.cityrunningtours.com/"&gt;www.cityrunningtours.com&lt;/a&gt;), I found American Running Guides (&lt;a href="http://www.theendurables.com/"&gt;www.theendurables.com&lt;/a&gt;).  I am now in the process of booking a four to five mile running tour.  Although I considered running with the San Francisco Road Runners Club for a Saturday morning run (which is FREE), I hope to book an actual guided tour, as it will be relatively flat and fine-tuned for visitors from afar.  I seriously do not think there is a better way to get in some exercise and tour a city.  I will be multi-tasking on my vacation.  How efficient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people like to go on vacations to relax and escape from their reality.  They like to pig out on cake, drink kegs of beer, and dance until the sun comes up.  While I will most likely partake in all of these activities, I will also be running the streets of San Fran.  So, dear readers, there may be a brief lull in my blogging activity in the coming days, but fear not.  I will be back next week with a full report of my San Francisco excursion, including a synopsis of the running tour and memories of complete debauchery.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-2667575292495895671?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/2667575292495895671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2009/06/running-tours.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/2667575292495895671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/2667575292495895671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2009/06/running-tours.html' title='Running Tours'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-4606246495430590774</id><published>2009-06-18T14:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T15:16:45.999-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Run, Rock and Stroll 10k Race</title><content type='html'>Last weekend I participated in an annual benefit race called 'Run, Rock and Stroll' in Des Moines.  I hadn't run a 10k in almost two years, in which I averaged a 10-minute mile.  My goal for this race was to average eight-minute miles and keep a steady pace.  Although I was able to maintain that pace and come in first in my age group (yes, this is a first, but I will admit that there were not a lot of people participating in the 10k), there were multiple times throughout the race when I questioned my sanity.  I also contemplated running the 5k (which was running along the same route for a while) during the first fifteen minutes of the race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, dear readers, I was in NO shape to run that little race.  Why, you ask?  This overpronator drank a little too much and was out late the night before.  STUPID.  I've never missed a race due to a hangover or anything else, and I was not about to miss this one.  I was going to get through it, even if I had to crawl (while ralphing all over the place). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, the weather was perfect - light mist and 60 degrees.  And I was fortunate enough to keep a steady pace, thanks to another runner ahead of me.  Without her, I probably would've not averaged that pace, as she motivated me to keep up.  I also slowed down for water stops this time, which is something I rarely do.  I'm always afraid that it's going to hurt my time; it actually helped me get through the race, especially in the last two miles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for future reference, I will *try* to abstain from excessive drinking before races.  Not a good idea.  I will slow down and partake in the consumption of water.  And I will continue to work hard to improve my time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I've been adding tons of hills to my runs.  I think it's helping...I've come to look forward to running them, as they break up the monotony.  Plus, as an added bonus, my legs are getting toned.  Bring on the hills!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-4606246495430590774?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/4606246495430590774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2009/06/run-rock-and-stroll-10k-race.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/4606246495430590774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/4606246495430590774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2009/06/run-rock-and-stroll-10k-race.html' title='Run, Rock and Stroll 10k Race'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-3717255076276051122</id><published>2009-06-11T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T07:52:06.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I *Heart* Planks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/SjEOOzZx1gI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ISQU3INuOrs/s1600-h/19756[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346069880144778754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/SjEOOzZx1gI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ISQU3INuOrs/s320/19756%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every Tuesday and Thursday morning I am "greeted" by the 5:55 AM alarm, reminding me of the semi-tortuous group training session about to take place.  Actually, my circuit training sessions with my esteemed trainer are something I look forward to, as I could seriously live at the gym (I'm a freak like that).  I'm especially excited when we are faced with the challenge of doing a variety of planks.  Today was my day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every training session focuses on a group of muscles.  Last Tuesday we worked our leg muscles, while my very fit mother complained about her knee and how she's the oldest person in our group (yes, my dear mother is in the training group, which motivates me to kick it into high gear, as I am NOT about to be outperformed by my mother!).  Leg days are great (I *LOVE* the Smith machine - perhaps the subject of a future post), but I do prefer days that include planks.  A seemingly simple exercise, the plank is one of my absolute favorites.  It works practically everything.  Here's the gist of the plank:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Start by lying face down on the ground or use an exercise mat. Place your elbows and forearms underneath your chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Prop yourself up to form a bridge using your toes and forearms .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Maintain a flat back and do not allow your hips to sag towards the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Breath (I know it's obvious, but this is what really helps me hold the plank for a longer time period).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simple, right?  And, you can do them anywhere.  And you can do variations (more to come on that subject).  Okay, so it took me a long time to develop a love for planks, but the journey was well worth it.  Six months ago, I probably couldn't hold it for more than thirty seconds (I had a weak core), while now I can do them for up to two minutes (goal is three minutes).  I started doing them as a way to build core strength, as well as improve my running economy.  Planks have helped me strengthen my core and running posture.  As I started putting in the miles for my half-marathon training, I noticed that I was able to keep a good posture late into the run.  I've also improved my speed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first started running, I thought that I could do a couple of days of somewhat easy, unfocused strength training.  I didn't think about how to incorporate strength training into my running.  I just went from one weight machine to the next for a couple of hours every week.  While some runners prefer just to run six days a week (with no strength or core training), I've learned that I NEED strength training to build my core and get me through some of those tough runs.  And the plank is my main weapon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-3717255076276051122?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/3717255076276051122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-heart-planks.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/3717255076276051122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/3717255076276051122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-heart-planks.html' title='I *Heart* Planks'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/SjEOOzZx1gI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ISQU3INuOrs/s72-c/19756%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8602194538687445318.post-961721267690132483</id><published>2009-06-10T12:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T12:48:51.319-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Inaugural Post</title><content type='html'>Since this is my first post EVER, I'd like to begin by welcoming myself (since I'm probably the only one reading it) to my blog.  I *intend* to utilize the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;blogosphere&lt;/span&gt; just as my title implies: to mindlessly muse about running (mainly) and life (in general).  As you can see, I like to utilize parentheses and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;asterisks&lt;/span&gt;.  These will be exploited, so be forewarned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I am an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;overpronator&lt;/span&gt;.  Well, it's actually a little more complicated than that.  I tend to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;overpronate&lt;/span&gt; on my right foot, but my left foot is rather neutral.  What does this mean, you ask?  I'm probably in desperate need of a chiropractor, but I'm kind of lazy when it comes to such "boring" things.  It seems like a task, although I'd probably benefit from a visit to the (snap, crackle, pop!) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;chiro&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although a trip to the chiro should be a priority, I am about to go for yet another run instead.  I have been running for about two years, but I didn't really get semi-serious about it until a few months ago.  I have completed a half marathon (the inaugural Illinois Half Marathon in April 2009); it was part of one of those cheesy "bucket lists," as I wanted to complete a half before my 30th birthday.  A couple of weeks ago, I ran the extremely well-organized Dam to Dam in Des Moines, Iowa (the largest 20k in the US, I believe).  My next goal is to complete a marathon, preferably the Twin Cities Medtronic Marathon in October 2009.  One of the reasons why I created this blog is to document my personal training, as well as the trials and tribulations of life that comes with marathon training.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also be forewarned that I like food.  A LOT.  I love to make (semi-)healthy food, specifically.  Garbanzo bean (or navy bean) chocolate chip cookies.  Or the blogosphere's latest obsession: the Green Monster smoothie (a spinach and fruit smoothie).  Stuff like that.  Yums.  So, dear reader, do not be alarmed if you are welcomed to my daily post with a large photo of a cup of green slime (Green Monster), or some other tempting food item that I have devoured earlier that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...how's that for a first post?  In concluding the inaugural entry of "The Mindless Musings of an Overpronator," I hope my contribution to the world as a newly-minted blogger will entertain (and perhaps, on occasion, amuse, if not delight)  all who read it.  Here's to the beginning of a new blog (raise the champagne glass and *lightly* tap glasses)!  Happy running, everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8602194538687445318-961721267690132483?l=themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/feeds/961721267690132483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2009/06/inaugural-post.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/961721267690132483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8602194538687445318/posts/default/961721267690132483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themindlessmusingsofanoverpronator.blogspot.com/2009/06/inaugural-post.html' title='The Inaugural Post'/><author><name>Stacy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03431914035439015881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1bW4qns-jCU/TBDHQQVG0nI/AAAAAAAAAA4/GviYjXAX0NA/S220/DSC01177.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
