So shall we discuss August? That lovely month where all my goals went off track, slid down the mountainside, and came to rest in a heap in the river. As you will recall readers, when we last saw our heroine, she was having some serious motivation problems. My perspective was all jacked up, too. I had a run in Leadville that I didn't finish. This was a first for me. It was only 12.5 miles instead of the 14 I was supposed to, and I cried my heart out over it. Seriously, me? You ran 12 1/2 miles. At 10,000 feet. Why are you crying!
Anyway, I don't know if it was heat or motivation, but I kept getting (at least what felt like) slower and slower. So set the scene: this was my my state of mind at the end of July.
Enter August. Which started out with the removal of two of my wisdom teeth. (By the way, I don't recommend this, if for no other reason than the fact that I kept hearing, "Well, you know you're older, so your recovery is going to be harder. Gee, thanks for the reminder.) This, I believe, was the Universe's way of deciding what was next for me. Two weeks of painkillers, semi-soft food (Wendy's frosty, I heart you), and not being able to open my mouth more than the width of a finger. I did a short run about a week later, but what wasn't in the cards for me was running the Georgetown to Idaho Springs Half-Marathon, as I had planned. As I had signed up for and paid my money for. This, again, was a first for me. A DNS (did not start). The shame!
But, when you wake up the day before the race, and you're covered head to toe with a bright red rash, this is again the Universe intervening in your training. This was the day I ran a 4 mile test run anyway, but that was before I realized I was standing at the corner of Rash and Itch streets. And by the way, Universe? You don't have to shout. I think I can hear you just fine now, thanks. We think it was a penicillin allergy, but that is something my doctor and I will have to make sure about at a later date.
So no half-marathon for me, which was probably a Life Lesson or something. There will be other races. After all, they hold this race every year! Yada yada yada. Somewhere after the half marathon no-go, I decided that maybe it was time to let go of the idea of another marathon this year. And rather than being tearful and mopey about it, it felt like a huge relief. Marathon training takes a lot of energy and time, and maybe two training cycles back to back was a mistake for me. Other people can do it with no problem, but not me. So sayeth the Universe, so sayeth I.
I started instead to watch what I ate, record it, calorie count--all that stuff, and also to do some cross-training. I've gotten back on the bike (hurrah!) and the elliptical, and the treadmill. I'm doing some pilates. Some strength training. And wouldn't you know it? My weight has started to drop again, somewhere to the tune of 5 pounds, although some of that is probably water. I've got about 4 pounds left to go before I'm officially (and forever, damnit!) a healthy weight, according to my BMI. With a month to go before our trip to Italy, that is my new goal. A healthy weight before I go to the country that loves carbs almost as much as I do. But given the amount of walking I think we'll be doing, I'm not too worried.
I'm also I'm trying to fall back in love with running. We're flirting with each other, but I'm going to take it slow. This is a relationship I'd like to last.
And although September has begun with what is either a late summer or an early fall cold which made my Labor Day weekend an indoor-on-the-couch-with-a-book kind of holiday, I'm going to go ahead and give September the benefit of the doubt. The weather has shifted, and the summer heat seems to have gone out of sun. Up at Bumpalot the leaves are starting to turn.
Fall is my time of year, and I'm back, baby! Take that, Universe!