Milestones and Nirvanas

So, I reached a bit of a milestone this morning on my quest to be ready to run a 10k race next Spring - I ran over seven uninterrupted kilometers! 

(One of my health and fitness-minded tweeps demanded to know the miles - that's 4.34 miles. You're welcome, Michelle.)

Just in case you have not had your fill of pictures of sweaty men and uninterested, camera-shy dogs today, here's what we looked like after 7 kilometers:

We're not looking at anything in particular,
just posing dramatically for the pic!

My friend, fellow runner and unofficial run coach (because I'm not paying her for tips and advice) Becky was a serious runner in high school, and is now getting back into it. She's been giving me tips and tricks and encouragement, and one of the things she's passed along to me are stories of how, in certain races and at certain distances, she would suddenly shift into an almost effortless state of running. In this state, her breathing would become easier, her stride would come more naturally, and there would be virtually no effort to the run for her - a sort of Nirvana on the track or trail.

This morning I finally experienced a limited version of this. Up until this morning, the farthest uninterrupted run (i.e. no stops or slowing down to a brisk walk) I'd been able to do was just over 5.8 kilometers, or 3.6 miles. This morning was a bit different, although I'm not entirely sure of the reason. I've had some soreness in my calves in recent days, and as a result I skipped yesterday's (Sunday) run altogether. When I awoke this morning to my usual 4 a.m. alarm, I briefly considered skipping today as well, but the thought of missing two days in a row was too much, so I went downstairs, started the coffee, popped a couple of Advil, and turned on The Weather Channel (TWC, I believe, is just one of many gifts God has given me).

Out the door and to the park we went. As we started to get into the run (well into the first kilometer), I was feeling pretty decent (pain had subsided to a dull, nearly unnoticeable ache - thanks, Advil, another gift from God to me). However, at the 1km mark, it became evident that this was going to be a struggle today, as Bambi announced in my ear, "One kilometer in six minutes and zero one seconds."

(Quick aside - I hate the way Bambi pronounces kilometer - "kilo-METER." Ugh.)

As I'm used to running a 5:30-ish kilometer, the subsequent km's were nearly as disheartening - 5:43, 5:54, 5:52, 5:41, 5:47 and 5:41. 

However, something strange happened about halfway through kilometer #5 - the sand of the trail became less daunting, the duck pond to my left seemed suddenly tranquil, my breathing became a non-issue, my legs began to feel lighter...I was either having a heart attack or I was experiencing what it was like to be "in the zone."

Who needs OU/Texas when you have a front yard?

This was actually the second time I was "in the zone" in the last few days. The first was Saturday morning during the Red River Shootout (OU vs. Texas, for all you non-college football fans). No, I wasn't at the Cotton Bowl this weekend. I had it better - I was playing football with my crew in the front yard, and man, they couldn't stop me, they could only hope to contain me.  Which they could not do. And so they did what any group of 10- and 12-year-old's would do - they kicked me out of their game and played themselves, leaving me the honor of shooting the video of their front yard heroics.

Anyway, it turned out not to be a heart attack.  As Bambi informed me that I had just run "six kiloMETERS in thirty-four minutes, fifty-eight seconds, last kiloMETER in five minutes, forty-seven seconds," I knew I could easily keep going. And that's what I did.

The feeling of running a sixth and seventh kilometer, and having it be easier than any of the previous five, is indescribable. I literally felt as if I'd just started running instead of already having been out there for the last 30 minutes - totally lost in the music blasting in my ears, right up to the moment Bambi informed me that I had completed seven kilometers. I was tempted to keep running further, but I knew this was foolish at this point in my training, and I didn't want to risk any further injury to my calves (or anything else, for that matter), so we slowed to a brisk walk, turned around, and went back to the car (and after a few stretches snapped the pics above).

My goal this week had been to run six uninterrupted kilometers, and I'd managed seven on the first day! Not only did I blow my weekly goal out of the water on the first day, I alleviated all of my guilt over the big pancakes-and-bacon breakfast the kids and I made (and gorged on) last Saturday morning! Win-win!

I love it when a plan falls apart and comes back together even better than before!

Pancakes, bacon and guilt, anyone?

As an added bonus: Zeus, the most camera-shy dog in the world!