The highs and lows...

The Denver Half Marathon is 18 days away, and I've got a big problem.

The group run on Saturday was the infamous "Parker Run". I've been hearing tales of its mercilessness since I joined the group several weeks ago. My 7 mile run a few weeks ago was hilly but, as everyone reminded each other as we collected back in the parking lot to retrieve our keys, "it wasn't quite as bad as Parker..."

On top of all this anticipation, I may or may not have mentioned before that as my long runs get to 7+miles, I feel a little unsure of myself. I'm not sure why 7 is the trigger, but for me, it is. Also, just coming off that awful 8miler that I did in TN... well, let's just say I was a little intimidated by my 9miler from the get-go.

So, I don't know if it was my attitude or if it was just the hills, but my 9miler turned out about like I expected it would. I couldn't make the hills. I had to stop and walk. I ran S-L-O-W on the parts where I could run at all. Even on the way back, when it was mostly downhill, I didn't run very strong. Maybe that was due to the completely demoralizing run out right before? Either way, I kept on going and only had to walk maybe a half mile out of the entire thing... But it wasn't a great day.

Big deal, right? Bad runs happen to everyone, and I shouldn't have been surprised by this one, considering all the advance warning I'd received by other members of the group.

The problem is... that run stole everything from me. I dragged back to my car with no confidence whatsoever. All of the sudden, I'm very fearful that I'm not ready for Denver. I feel undertrained and weak and just not ready. It even stole my motivation. I could barely force myself to run a measly 2miles yesterday after work. I didn't want to run. I would have rather gone home and watched TV.

Maybe it wasn't just the Parker run. Maybe it was the combination of the TN run along with the Parker run. Maybe it's all those weeknight runs I missed when my foot was hurting too bad to run. Maybe it's my haphazard diet? Maybe it's just old habits that come back too easily when the tide is going against me?

Whatever the cause of it, I am scared. I wanted to feel much differently about the race at this stage in the game.

This weekend I have a 10miler at the good ol' Highline Canal. Miah says that he thinks going back to where it all started will be good for me. He thinks that knowing the route and not being intimidated by it will help me recover from this latest trip-and-fall. He also thinks I can "think" my way out of my current attitude and back into confidence.

I'm trying, but I'm not so sure it's going to work.

A little something new...

Like I mentioned in yesterday's post, there may be some changes on the horizon for my running.

So far this season, I haven't had any solid goals. The closest possible thing to a goal that I've had so far is this: I want to finish Denver without walking. That's right, it's exactly the same goal I had last year.

I was thinking about this a few days ago, and with anything you do, you have a choice: you can keep doing what you're doing, you can get worse, or you can get better. So far, with running, I've been content to just keep doing what I'm doing. I guess I'm getting marginally better, just simply due to the fact that I get out there often enough to see an improvement. No, not a consistent, daily improvement (I've never known a runner whose every run is better than the last; there always seem to be good days and bad days for everyone), but a general trend toward improvement.

Why is this, though? I'm starting to think it's fear. I'm a little afraid to see what I can do when I push myself. Because once you know what you're really capable of, it's not as easy to wuss out, is it? If you know you're capable of running 10 minute miles, all of a sudden running 11 minute miles starts to feel like you're taking the easy way out. So, the simple solution is to avoid really pushing yourself. In this way, you remain blissfully ignorant of your true potential, and you're able to keep on shuffling away, feeling proud of yourself for being out there at all.

But lately, I've been thinking more about goals. What do I really want from Denver? What do I want from Memphis?

When I picture myself finishing Denver, and I'm truly honest with myself, what I want is to finish a little faster than I did last year. When I picture myself finishing Memphis, I see an almost entirely different person. Not only do I see myself faster in Memphis (come on, sea level!), I also see myself finishing really strongly. Like a real runner. Like one of those runners who I watch and aspire to be. Typically, I can only admit this to myself in my deepest darkest moments of solitude because if I admit, out loud, that I aspire to be one of those real runners, I run the risk of being embarrassed due to the great divide between where I am now and where I want to be.

I think this is the first step in the right direction, though. My desire to get better, get stronger, is more important to me right now than my desire to stay un-embarrassed (if that's not a word, it ought to be).

And the thing is, I think I can get better... if I'm willing to push a little harder. But it's entirely up to me.

With all these thoughts tumbling around in my head over the last few days, my friend Alicia (you know, the totally hard-core one) mentioned her running group to me. It's a pretty big group, and all of the people in it are training for something half-marathon distance or longer. Several people from the group recently completed the Pikes Peak Ascent marathon: 26.2 miles of climbing 7000ft. A couple of others just finished the Leadville 100 (you know Leadville, the highest incorporated city in the United States? Elevation = 10,152ft?). Suffice it to say that I was more than intimidated just listening to her talk about it.

Alicia assured me that there would be a pace group to fit my needs, and it's a really supportive group, and soon I found myself actually considering going out for a group run with this bunch of athletes. At first I was hesitant. I've had my fair share (and several other folks' fair share) of huge embarrassing athletic failures, and I've no desire to subject myself to pointing and laughter and being the object of ridicule by the masses. But the more I thought about it, I began to realize what I mentioned earlier... my want to get better is bigger than my want to save face.

• Will I get dropped from my pace group? Maybe... there's a good chance, in fact.
• Will I be embarrassed? Maybe.
• Will I be intimidated? Definitely.
  
• Will I run faster than I think I can? Maybe... Alicia seems to think so, anyway! (Thanks for the vote of confidence, Alicia!)
• Will I be grateful for the water provided on the group run course? DEFINITELY.
• Will I come away learning something about running or about myself? Probably.

So, after weighing how much my pride is worth to me, I've decided to go out tomorrow and give it a try with this group: Runner's Edge of the Rockies. I figure if I hate it, I haven't lost anything. I was going to do a 6-miler tomorrow anyway, and this way I get to take advantage of their water/gatorade stops. If I love it, I can sign up for their program, which would get me all the extras: a running coach, a tailored training program specific to my races and my goals, a weekly group run with support, and maybe even a few new friends.

The thing is, I just have to push myself a little bit harder, and I'm hoping this running group will show me how to do that. If I cross the finish in Denver (or Memphis) feeling like I was holding something back in the interest of my own pride, I'm not sure it'll feel like a victory.

Laughter is the best medicine...

Well, it's the night before the scary group run, and I'm up late again. I'm more nervous than I probably should be, and when I'm nervous, I tend to either get really quiet and reserved or else I laugh. So, this time, I'm choosing to laugh. And I'm bringing you with me.

I post the following video of myself while sledding in the Blizzard of '06 because it has provided endless hours of entertainment for my dear friend NewMama. I think she's even considering entering it in America's Funniest Home Videos. I agree it's pretty funny, especially if you can hear the audio that goes along with it. At the time, I thought I'd completely broken my little neck, though. :(

OK. Now that I'm smiling, group runs don't seem nearly as intimidating. Best of luck to all of you out there going out on group runs tomorrow!