pain in the butt

Marathon training is progressing. I've gotten in two 20 milers, and so I guess it's time to start tapering (and by tapering I mean skiing every weekend instead of long runs!). I feel pretty good. Last year, I was incredibly sore for about 4 days after 20 milers. Now, I've got my recovery down to the point where I can work-out the next day. I usually aim for a class at the gym or the elliptical to give my running specific aches and pains a day off. The only thing I'm worried about is this persistent pain. I've had IT band and hip issues before, but this is different. It's not on the side of my hip, it's right smack in the middle of the right side of my butt. I was walking around the house last night holding on to it- which I admit looked pretty strange- and I got some good teasing from the roomies. I've been stretching and foam rolling like a fiend, but nothing seems to reach this particular ache. Not a huge deal, just a pain in the butt!

Dubai

I'm in Dubai for work this, and while I love how exotic the city feels, I am not loving the running here. The "gym" at the hotel, is a crappy treadmill and a crappier elliptical. The worst part is that there is no AC, and I, being acclimated to running outside all winter, am instantly a giant sweaty mess. After 4 days, my body and mind were rebelling at the thought of another run inside.

So I decided to venture outside. The city is amazingly safe- so I wasn't worried about running outside by myself in the very early morning. However, I was worried about the traffic (it's terrible) and about the cultural appropriateness of running in shorts and a tank-top in a Muslim country. The traffic wasn't so bad- there are sidewalks everywhere. I did spend a fair amount of time waiting at stop lights, but I didn't have any close calls. The clothing was another matter. Maybe it was all in my head. The whole time I was running I felt so aware of my body. This isn't a place when men leer and cat call, like when I ran in Italy. It is a place of silent disapproval. This makes it difficult to tell if it is just me being paranoid, or if I'm truly being offending people.

I also struggle with how much I should care about this. I don't agree with the idea that women should be covered all the time. But, I am a guest here, and as a guest I should be respectful of my hosts.

Split Personality

Last week I got to indulge both sides of my personality. I spent the Monday-Thursday in Las Vegas for work. I was staying at a nice hotel, eating FANTASTIC meals, drinking fancy Starbucks lattes, and running strict interval workouts on the strip. I wore suits and makeup and sipped martinis.

Then Friday-Sunday I drove up to Utah to go skiing. I stayed in a tiny one room cabin, wore the same clothes for 3 days, ate nothing but peanut butter and jelly and Honey Bunches of Oats, and had no TV or internet. I was a ski hermit. I was the first one on lift every morning and the last one off. The skiing was glorious- fresh powder and bright sunshine. Something about the mountain in Utah even made me ski differently. Instead of bombing down the hill as fast as possible, I slowed down, I was playful. I skied in and out of the woods, dove into deep piles of powder.

It still seems strange to me that I could be so happy in two places so different.

New Year

I rang in the New Year in a low key, but very me, way. I went up to NH and spent the day Nordic skiing with my Dad, step-mom, and little sister. It's rare that all of us are together for an entire day. We got up early and we skiing by 10. It was a great day. About 25 degrees and snowing lightly. It was my first time out on my xc skis this season. I forget that I love that feeling of gliding. I did about 4.5 hours and at least 10 miles, and unlike after a long run I didn't feel pounded to death. We all went out to a nice dinner. Then, my sister and I spent the next 2 days downhill skiing. It snowed for 3 straight days. Eat, sleep, ski in the fresh snow. Life doesn't get any better.

Now I'm having a hard time adjusting to the real world. Early mornings, work, and long marathon training runs. Which makes me ask myself, why did I decide to do another marathon if I dread the training this much?

I feel good

Marathon training has officially started. Last weekend I did 13 miles, and this weekend I did 15. Despite the fact that I dread my long runs beforehand, when I'm actually running I feel great. On Christmas I did 15 miles around Southport at a 9:05 pace. I didn't walk a single hill. Which is pretty amazing if you've seen the island: it's hilly! Last year I was excited for my training, but then by the end of every run I'm just dead. So now I just need to find a way to drum up some excitement before the run. I'm thinking a training buddy is the key. Anyone interested?

cortisone and my next marathon

After having persistent heel pain for more than 8 months, I finally went to a specialist on Tuesday. He agreed that it's probably plantar fasciitis, and gave me a cortisone shot. It hurt. 3 days later and it still hurts.

Also on Tuesday, I decided that even if I don't get a spot in Boston, I will run a marathon this spring. Probably Virginia Beach in March. That means I need to start doing some serious running.

It occurred to me that I night as I was trying to sleep, that maybe I'm a little crazy. I have this running injury that just won't heal, and here I am planning my next marathon. What lengths will I go to in order to keep running?

Isn't this a running blog?

Warning, this post will not wax poetic about the joys of running. Nope, today I'm going to talk about how much more I love skiing than running. Yesterday was my first day on the slopes. I went alone. It was cold and windy. There were only 3 top to bottom runs open. I loved every minute of it. Putting on my boots (and snow pants, and jacket, and head sock, and helmet, and goggles, and gloves- running does require way less gear I will give it that) I was practically giddy.

At the top of the mountain before my first run I looked out over the White Mountains of New Hampshire and savored the view for a few seconds, and then I was done savoring. I was there to move, not to stand still and enjoy the scenery. I ski fast. My first run, and every run after that, I had a huge smile on my face, as I sped down the mountain. I love making big swooping turns, getting way over on my edges. It is the closest I'll ever get to flying. When I'm skiing, I get this intense happiness that I rarely get anywhere else.

I was trying to figure out what it is that I love so much. The speed and the motion for sure, but I think it's more. When I'm skiing I don't have time to think. I am going so fast that it requires complete concentration. I'm the type of person whose mind never shuts off. So those few minutes of downhill are like a vacation for my brain. I arrive in the bottom with a racing heart, a frozen face, and a refreshed mind. Ski on.