Pre Chicago Life

We season our chi-town plans with pinot grigio, mojitos garnished with mint from the garden, a bowl of chips and chunky corn salsa, meats dusted in lemon pepper and garlic, large zucchini sliced thin and grilled with salt & pepper. We call this hip hop barbeque, the rap songs of our youth on the jambox. Computers and print offs of calendars from here to October splay the table. Half interested in gossip, the other in planning, it’s hard to really go there, though we want to, we also want to be present in these precious few days before the whip cracks.

I’ve had a lengthy and fun race season from Boston on. I believe in racing as an opportunity to further develop on threshold for pain, patterns, game plans for food, water, downweeks, warm ups and cool downs. It’s important to not run yourself into the ground; you kind of have to recalibrate what you hope to achieve from each race, through which you can gain little tricks to add to your A-race planning in the future. Last weekend I competed in the Chuckanut Footrace, one in which gained me spirit and confidence last spring after moving back to Washington. It’s a point to point 7-miler on the Interurban, which hosts a couple gnarly deep dips and hills – a good test of fitness. I didn’t race it with specific intention, just to feel or stay strong, but I took a few minutes off from last year, which instills a better sense of faith in the foundation I’ll draw upon as I begin the 12-week marathon cycle.

So, there’s three of us babes running chicago. We’ve been meeting for hip hop barbecues and have death week house plans, hoping to crash at Ber’s for the 3 weeks of our highest mileage, because she’s incredible: See: lush garden, amazing cook, thoughtful fox of a husband, coffee on tap, beer on tap, likes the hops, has guest rooms, deep bathtub, calf stretcher against the wall, hot tub, two amazing beer fetchin’ vegetable eatin’ pups, kitty-corner to whatcom falls park and gailbraith…she’s like the Jesus of friends.

Up until racing the Footrace, I felt great, but, I knew I could be pushing my luck, with taking but a couple days off between Boston and now. This week I really tried to be conscious of “downtime,” which, ultimately, created feelings of inadequacy, laziness, losing fitness. It’s lame that you can run as much as you do, and feel sorry for yourself if you take the 1-to-several days off. You really have to be conscious of this self-defeat and work your way out of it. You need to be around people who see the larger picture when you can’t for yourself. Now, I’m sly. I might say I’m taking it easy, but am I really? Probably more than the typical self-indulger, but still, I could be a lot better. I do a good job of when I’m not feeling it during a run, I’ll reassess and cut it short instead of powering through. Also, I’ve been storing up on the calories. I can’t get full. I’m nervous for what’s to come.

Summer in Bellingham has been baking my energy, but any run along the water, with a salt breeze is appreciated. This weekend us three chi-ladies will run Ragnar, one last huzzah before training begins.

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