Toe-Shoes Tina: Conquering Fear

Distance:  10:35 miles

Pace:  10:35 (how's that for symmetry) 

Elevation gain: 702.1 ft.

Wine consumption:  3 glasses of Petite Petit (a divine red blend of Petite Syrah and Petit Verdot)

I am back up in the mountains facing my first long run since my 13 miler that ended with tears and the purchase of real shoes.  Saturday night, I used MapMyRun’s online mapping function to map out a 10 mile run.  I wanted to avoid an out and back on the main road because (a) it’s boring and (b) car exhaust seems to hang in the cold mountain air, making breathing alongside well-traveled roads yucky.  Armed with bear spray (you thought I was joking, didn’t you?), I felt more comfortable taking a scenic loop through the forest.   The loop only took me about 6.5 miles, so I still had to go up the main road for a short out and back, taking me back up the hill I dubbed “the beast” last time I ran here. 

I got up early Sunday and went for coffee.  I decided to check out my loop, which I had driven before, but not with an eye toward running.  Specifically, I wanted to make sure there was adequate sidewalk/shoulder throughout the forest road.   I also wanted to look for bears.  The road had a decent enough shoulder.  I saw no bears.  I saw hills.  Eep.  Big hills.  Since my primary goal of this run was to slow down, I thought maybe I should be grateful for the hills.  But that seemed stupid.  As I returned home and engaged in my pre-run ritual of peeing three times and slathering myself with Body Glide, I felt dread.  It wasn’t that I just wasn’t looking forward to running, I was actively dreading it.  I realized I was feeling fear, specifically fear of:  crying, pain, failing another long run, slowing down, the cold (it was 39 degrees when I started my run), my new  (non-toe) shoes, and – yes – bears.  The fact that bears were last on my list of fears speaks to how bad the others were.  I laced up my new shoes, realizing that I hadn’t tried them out on a shorter, more reasonable distance first.  Too late now!  Because I was carrying my bear spray, I did not want to carry a water bottle, so I put a bottle in the planter near where I would end my loop and begin the out and back.  

(The bear spray holster was also handy for carrying my Gu.)

I set off, happy I chose to start my route on a 2-mile descent.  My goal pace was 10:30, which I knew was too fast in light of the 7,000 foot elevation and hills.  Still, it was 45 seconds slower than my prior long runs.  Why wouldn’t I let myself run slower than that?  Last weekend, I proved to the world (and myself) I am fast when I ran a 23:56 5K, taking home a medal.  I was second in my division and the 5th woman to finish (the 4th was named “Daniel,” so I demand a recount).  So what if I ran 11 minute miles on my long run?  I have only recently discovered I am capable of speed.  I suppose it is my inner slow runner still making me insecure that if I slow down too much, I’ll erase all the speed gains I’ve made.   It’s not logical, but it is what it is.  I turned off the main road onto the forest loop. 

(They are not as cool as my toe-shoes pics, but on the plus side, I don’t feel like I’m getting a stress fracture.)

(And . . . with the bear spray.  Far more likely to be used on a two-legged predator, but I’m glad I have it.)

The forest route was gorgeous.  And hilly.  And no longer seemed so cold.  I downed a Gu at about 4.5 miles and finished the loop with no bear sightings.  On some of the hills, my pace shot up over 12:00, which was a good thing.  And I tried desperately not to push it too hard, though admit I was out of breath at the top of my biggest climbs. 

(Sadly, this picture does not even come close to capturing how big this hill was while I was running up it.)

I downed my second gel (a new one called "Honey Stinger," that I really liked) at my turn-around past the top of the Beast.  My last 1.5ish miles were down hill, so I let myself drop to a sub-10:00 pace.  This was the only point at which I felt discomfort in my shoes.  It was difficult to go down a steeper hill while maintaining a mid-foot strike in my shoes.  My feet felt like they slid into the front of the shoes and I ended up keeping my toes curled in a weird position to brace my feet.  This caused my arches to hurt.   So, I admit, I used a little bit of a heel-strike on the steep downhills.  It wasn’t substantial and it hurt less than my weird toe-curl stride.  Fortunately, I won’t be contending with hills in the New Orleans marathon, so I really don’t have to devise a solution. 

In the end, I conquered the long run, tolerated my shoes, didn’t feel the cold, saw no bears, and shed exactly zero tears.  I wasn't even nauseous (thanks, gels!).  I felt so good after the run, that I took my kids for a short (.25 mile) jog around the neighborhood.  Then a very hot and well-deserved shower.  It’s nice to have my confidence back.