Zombie Land

I wish there was a sound effect on this blog so I could insert the sound my *%# alarm made this morning at 4:50 a.m. Today was my first real day of the ATP (advanced training program) group. Yesterday, I claimed that I was going to report an attempted homicide because the Texas humidity had tried to murder me on my run. Let me assure you that Maggie, my ATP coach, would make Texas humidity beg for mercy. She's a little firecracker and I was frightened when she informed us we were going to "warm up" by running a mile. After the warm up run, there was a hazy time with some stretching and skipping. I wish I was kidding. Before I knew it, we were off for our actual run of the morning. Five miles. That's a total of 6 miles and some skipping before dawn.

I want to tell you about the run because I have never been in a group like this. People around me were seriously talking about qualifying for Boston. They were comparing race times and talking about movies. Even on a good day, I'm not chatty before the sun comes up and border on slightly bitter before my morning tea. I was focused on just keeping in the middle of the pack and not dying. On the plus side, I did run those five miles almost five full minutes faster than I ran on Saturday without the ATP group. One guy told me that he shaved almost 30 minutes off his marathon time by doing this training.

After our run(s), we did a series of boot camp exercises. Squats, lunges, core work, push ups and weights. When I got home, I walked the dog. I realized at some point that I'd been up for 3+ hours before I even started getting ready for work. Jon says I will remember this experience fondly. Jon underestimates my love of sleep.

I better look really, REALLY fit by the end of this thing.

What They Died For

Yes, that's a shout out to Lost, but instead of being about island mysteries, this post is about my poor feet. No one tells you about the gross little side effects of running. Summer becomes a constant battle between getting a pedicure so that your feet are pretty for sandals and realizing that every bit of pampering will cost you a little pain as your feet toughen up for all those long Saturday runs.

Last Saturday at our group run, one of the stretching coaches said, "Raise your hand if you lose toenails during your marathon training!" What kind of sport is this??? I confess that I started losing my toenails last year during my marathon training. Not all of them (thank god). I lose the second toenail on both feet. This is oddly normal for long distance runners. I'll answer your obvious questions:

Yes, I have seen a doctor.

No, it doesn't really hurt.

Yes, I have tried a few fixes (including bigger shoes).

I thought of adding a picture to this post, but decided that most of you would thank me for not seeing what a toenail looks like when it has separated, but not quite fallen off your toe.

Your sacrifice is appreciated, my dear feet. I promise to reward you with an appropriate pair of red leather shoes when this is all over.

The Sky is Made of Candy

Sometimes, when I'm at work and people ask me to do things that I deem completely unreasonable, I say, "Oh look, the sky is made of candy" --- trying to indicate to them that what they have requested of me is about as likely as the candy sky of their fantasy world. Today, my body told me the same thing when I said, "Okay, I'm going to need you to run 5 miles at noon in the Texas heat."

I admit it, I stayed up too late last night. This morning, after hitting snooze a few too many times, I had to choose between running before work and walking a certain very sweet brown puppy. That face gets me every time. Still, I was committed to running today and I have dinner plans tonight. That left lunch. It actually wasn't that hot for Texas, but it was enough to teach me a lesson. I will love my alarm clock. I will love my alarm clock. I will love my alarm clock...

A Word on Timmy

My dear friend Tim Swearingen is running the NYC marathon with me next year. He always says that I'm his running inspiration, but he's the inspiring one. He went from 0 to a 1/2 marathon in 6 short months and he lost ... wait for it ... 80+ pounds last year. This year, he's pushing himself to run the NYC marathon. Read that again. Wow.

There is no way to say how giddy it made me to see him complete the half or watching all the little changes along the way on his fitness odyssey. He's one of those people who has a contagious enthusiasm for life and a way of making you want to push harder and do better.

I'm so proud of him. Can't wait to see that shiny medal on his neck. Run, Timmy, run.

**BTW, I'm completely stealing the idea of this running blog from Timmy.

Check his out at http://seetimrun-runtimrun.blogspot.com

Hello ATP, Goodbye Sleep

On Sunday, Tim and I went by Luke's Locker to officially sign up for the training program. A flash of insanity came over me and I signed up for the Advanced Training Program. It seems that trying to kill myself by running pre-dawn for the next 6 months just isn't enough for me. Instead, I'll be adding some extra bootcamp workouts to my weekly runs. 5:30 at the lake 3 days a week instead of just 1. Have I mentioned that I'm crazy?

You vs. You

Last year, I ran my first marathon in NYC. A huge group of my friends sporting the cutest "Team Covey" t-shirts (thanks, Scanlan) came out to support and encourage me. I saw Team Covey for the last time at Mile 25. Empire State of Mind was playing on my ipod. I don't know if I've ever been happier. As you round the final corner into Central Park, you see the signs "The Last Mile" ---- "800 Meters" ---- "400 Meters" ---- "200 Meters" and then, the FINISH LINE. I celebrated with a perfect potato trifecta (mashed, fried, baked), apple pie and at least one beer for every mile of the race. At the end of my journal for the marathon I wrote "I'm going to miss every terrible, wonderful, minute of this journey." Best. Day. Ever.

And so, it begins again. I am going to run the NYC marathon on November 7th for the second time. I'll be doing it for a good cause this year (bust out your wallets, people). Some great friends will be running it with me. I'm already mentally posing for our medal photos and planning our post-marathon jaunts to Joe Allens and Mamas. I wouldn't miss it. And yet --- while the first paragraph of this post seems fabulous, I think I forgot the 180+ days of training it took to get me there. I forgot the early mornings and the Texas heat. I forgot that it was a lot of sweat, doubt, discipline and 4:40 alarm beeps. I must be crazy to do this all again. Crazy.