Sunday, October 30, 2011

A Post About Nothing

What the hell have I been doing lately? A whole lot of nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. And you know what? I LIKE IT.

However, I know that I've got to get my ass back into gear before my ass is assigned its own zip code. With that being said, I have made the plunge and have decided to do (not TRY), but do p90X.

I've talked to several (okay, two) that have done it and they have told me it does work. But it extremely hard and will suck. P90x is not easy in the sense of the workouts as well as the time commitment. Everyday with one day off. Sounds like my marathon training plan.

Why do I want to do this? I am sick of being "soft." NO. I will not be posting pictures of before and afters. You will just have to take my word (blog) for it. Anyway, I am happy with my weight, but I am more fat than muscle. There is more giggle than I care for. More muffin top than should be for my weight. Something I want to change.

Everything should be arriving this week to get me started.

I am also back to teaching yoga twice a week. Saturday was my first class in A LONG time and let me just say, my ass is killing me! Freaking Warrior 3's. The yoga I teach is not 'Yo Mama's yoga. I like it to be fun and light in mood. The music I use is R&B and some modern tunes. I even have the Red Hot Chili Peppers. When in my class I want you to feel good, like you do when you hear a good tune on the radio. People seem to like it so I will stick with it.

What else. Oh. I wanted to write a post about coaches and then I came across this blog. Give it a read because it is entertaining and I think, very true.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

What not to say to a person whose pet just died:

"Eleven is old for a greyhound, isn't it?" OR any combination. That does not make me feel better. Because to me he wasn't old. He. Wasn't. Old.

There is a big emptiness in the house without Rim. He had such a quirky personality that we can't help but feel the void. At least the humans feel the void. The other three canine nimrods could care less. People ask me, "how are the other dogs?" They don't care. To them they are hoping they get his portion of treat, food and bed space.

I used to get upset that the dogs wouldn't show ANY type of sign they knew one of the pack was missing. Instead we were met with the same "hey, what's for dinner" attitude. Then it hit me how awesome dogs are and I wish I was like them. Life is a moment to moment type of gig. You don't worry about what is coming next, who left or why.

Rim wasn't scared. Wasn't freaking out because he knew what his fate was. All that concerned him was he didn't feel well and was tired. His big heart was sick.

He had an infection that went to his heart. We think the cause was from his dental. It was sudden and he was extremely ill. Monday morning he could walk into the vets office, but by the evening when we had to move him to critical care at an overnight hospital, it took 2 techs and a vet to get him to the car. When I saw him. My heart shattered into a million pieces. The suffering in his eyes was too much to handle.

The ER clinic was wonderful. By the time we went to see him again later in the evening, he was much more comfortable -- lots of pain meds, antibiotics, fluids, and his fever was going down. He was laying on the super comfy bed we had made and his favorite, with his head on a soft fleece pillow. I had some hope.

The next day were a lot of tests. At lunch I took him a couple hamburgers to see if he would eat. Nothing. He was getting around with little assistance, but was clearly still struggling. X-rays showed an enlarged heart and ultrasound showed some concerning views around his heart. Later in the afternoon he started having an irregular heartbeat. The infection was going to win. That was when we decided to let him go.

They brought him in and he laid down on his bed. I laid behind him and we spooned. Rim always was a dog that had to be touching you when napping. Either he wanted to be right up against you, or he would snuggle his nose in the crook of your neck. I held him, stroke his soft ears, kissed his nugget head and let the tears softly fall on his beautiful fawn fur. All the time telling him how much we loved him and what a good boy he was. He was sound asleep. I put my hand where his heart was and felt it slow to a stop. He never opened his eyes. He left this world peacefully and doing what he does best. Sleeping. That was precious to me.

**I miss him pushing me from behind with his head to get me to hurry up.
**I miss him using his big mits called paws to get my attention.
**I miss seeing his beehive (ears standing straight up)
**I miss him play bowing in front of me and giving a slight "woof" when he wanted to go outside.
**I miss his 80 lbs body snuggles and practically pushing you off the side of the bed.
**I miss his nose rooting around your neck to get it tucked in just right.
**I miss how he loved to pee on something and then give a few swift kicks to let the other dogs he was a bad ass.
**I miss how he fretted.

I miss him.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Rim Fire Lichtinger
December 25, 1999 - October 18, 2011

Fly free, baby.

Race report and Med tent

Time for the race report and a little story of how I ended up in the medical tent for the first time since running. All I have to say is Mrs. Duffy -- you were right.

I would like to give the Empire State Marathon a thumbs up! Job well done. There were a few hiccups, but I am sure they will work those out.

Have to give a shout out about the shirts and medal. The shirts were men and women sizes! Mine fits perfectly. Seriously. I've run a lot of races and only TWO shirts (one being the Empire) fit and doesn't hang on me like a circus tent. The medal is pretty sweet too. I am all about the 26.2 bling.

My sister flew in on Wednesday for a short visit and to cheer me on. She has never seen a marathon or me in a race. It was awesome to have her here and to take three days off from work before the race. Mental note. Do that again.

I thanked my lucky stars that race day wasn't Saturday because we had horrific weather. Rain and high wind. The local weather station was calling for Sunday to be a "breezy" day. I was thinking to myself the word "breezy" means hell by mile 23. And I was right.

Race morning started out stressful because one of my greyhounds suddenly because very ill. Why do these things always happen on a weekend?! ***He is still very sick and is in critical care, but that is another blog post. I get to the start around 6:30 a.m. and wait for my running buds to show up.

We do our usual -- port-o-john stops, bitch about how cold it is and just fret till it is time to get going. Finally it was time. My goal was to keep a 9:50-10 minute pace for as long as I could hold it. Ease on the hills and pick it back up on the downhills.

Gun went off and boom off we go and it felt like EVERYONE was passing me. I really hate that feeling. People running by you like you are standing freaking still. YET, my pace was about 9:30-9:40 so I knew I had to reign it in and I did. But man, I was pissed. Secretly I was hoping the people passing me would die on the Green Mile. Little did I know I would be part of the carnage.

The first 3 miles of the race are on Onondaga Lake Parkway -- a highway next to the lake. There is no protection from the wind. It it wide open. There was a water stop at the first mile. I passed it because there were to be an aid station every mile and would hit one every three miles like in training. However, there weren't every mile in the beginning - or the end. Insert - HUGE hiccup in race organization.

Mile 2. Nothing.

Mile 3. Nothing.

We get in the actual park and I don't see anything until a little past mile 4. Here begins my mini freak out. I was scared that there wouldn't be aide stations every mile. I decided to drink at every stop. Bad decision #1.

My pace was steady and consistent -- took it easy on the Hayes hill and worked my way into B'Ville. And can I just say this one thing. Sorry, break in train of thought. **I HATE RELAY RACES. Especially after mile 13. You have NO idea how bad I wanted to trip a relay person, rip off their relay bib and stuff it up their relay ass. But I was too tired.

Here are the splits from 1-13:

9:55; 9:58; 9:48; 9:45; 9:53; 9:49; 9:40; 9:58; 9:57; 10:20 (hello, Hayes); 9:50; 9:49; 9:46.

I am extremely proud of those splits.

In B'ville I hit the "fucker" hill. Oy. And it was. I am sure if a hill could smile, it was wearing a big old grin. It was as brutal. The only thing that got me through was knowing I would see the husband and my sister. It was the boost I needed to keep my pace under 10. After I passed them I was thinking two things -- get to Kelle at mile 20 and keep it under 10. However, around mile 17 I started feeling light headed and I stopped sweating. Uh. Oh. I've been drinking only water till about mile 15. After 15, I started drinking Accelerade. But I think it was too late.

Splits from 14-20:

10:22 (freaking hill); 9:59; 9:55; 10:09; 10:24; 10:21; 9:56.

Again. Very happy with my splits even though I knew I was slipping. Around mile 18 it was a fight to keep my pace and I tried. I tried so hard. It is so frustrating at this point because I desperately wanted to keep it under 10, but it wasn't in the cards.

The last stretch on River road was tough. Real tough. A few times I really wanted to walk, but kept pushing through. When I hit the parkway -- at mile 20 I knew I was in trouble. I was feeling weird. Real weird. Like, light headed, weird.

My friend, Kelle, joined me. At first I told her to pace me to stay under 10. But that quickly changed when we hit the wind. I do believe I may have yelled the word FUCK in front of a large crowd of people...and children. But hey, at the 20 mile mark, it is anything but pretty.

After mile 21, I thought I needed nutrition because I was feeling so light headed/dizzy. Thought the carbs would give me the boost I needed and decided to take a gel. The one I had in my ass pocket would taste like hot ass so I decided to take what was being offered on the course.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

I thought I would be fine since I have take gels before. Not this year, though.

Again. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

What I pick? Accelerade - Chocolate with caffeine. I couldn't pick the goddamn grape!

I was already feeling weird, but by mile 23 I was feeling WAY weird. Light headed with a topper of heart palpitations. There were times I had to walk because I thought my heart was either going to explode or stop. Kelle was scared. Her exact words to me were "please don't die."

It was a combo of taking in too much water and my body wasn't processing it through my system and not enough electrolytes and adding to the mix of ingesting caffeine.

I screwed up and I knew it.

Splits from 21-26:

10:17; 10:18; 10:54;

Walking the Green Mile: 11:20; 10:54; 10:33.

After I crossed the finish line I made a bee line for the medical tent because I really felt awful. They took my blood pressure and heart rate. Blood pressure was good, but heart rate...not so much. It was through the roof and I had to sit there being monitored until it started going down.

Total time per my Garmin: 4:26:58. Last years marathon was 4:31. A 4 minute PR.

I am very happy with my time. However, I am not happy that my net time was recorded as 4:28? How is that possible? Screw that. I am going by my Garmin. He would never lie to me.

What am I most happy about? Keeping my pace under 10 for longer than I thought I could. PR'ing even though it didn't come CLOSE to what I wanted.

What am I not happy about? Making rookie mistakes. I know better. Yet, I was an asshole and did it anyway. Feel free to come and kick me in the ass.

What am I concerned about? Feeling so physically wiped out afterwards. Not just the soreness. That is a given, but the sheer exhaustion. Typically I am ravenous and want to eat everything in sight. Not this time. I couldn't even look at food without feeling nauseous for a few days.

I am considering take a year off of marathons and focusing on half's. Key word - considering. Haven't decided. Maybe I will focus getting faster in half's and working on doing more sprint tri's.

Regardless. These feet will still be hitting the pavement.

**Rimmy passed away two days later from an infection of the heart .

**Several of my friends ran the relay, but I still love them.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Finally here ---

Tomorrow is race day. It is finally here.

Gear is ready. Hopefully the body is too.

Praying that there is little to no wind. Rain, I can handle. Wind. Suuuuuuuuucks.

Bought some Carbo Boom at the Expo. Considering trying it on the course. This could be the worse or best decision I've ever made.

Have my targets -- get to the husband and my sister around the 16 mile mark. Get to my running buddy, Kelle at mile 20. She is going to run the last six with me.

Lastly. Believe.

See ya.

Monday, October 10, 2011


There is so much I want to write/say, but I am having trouble just sitting down to write. It is because I am feeling very anxious. Sister is coming on Wednesday and the house still isn't "guest" clean. And, of course, the marathon Sunday. My mind is a whirlwind of trying to prepare -- diet, clothes, hydration, and mental prep.

I've been working hard on my mental state to change the nagging negative, self-doubting thoughts to positive thoughts. Telling myself to just get out there and run. Fuck it. Just run. What happens will happen.

What I hope to accomplish:

  • Start out at a conservative pace and ease into my race pace.

  • Stick with the race pace as long as I can.

  • Easy on the uphill and roll with the downhill to make up the time.

  • Know it is going to hurt at the end. Prepare for it.

  • Do my best and give it what I can and be happy...regardless.


I know I should trust my training. But. When you are a notorious slacker, it is hard to do. Have I put in most of the work? Yes. Have I've done all of the work and followed the plan exactly? No.

Anyone else feel this anxious? Doubtful? How did you get your negative self to shut the hell up?!