When the seams of my jeans are busting at the thighs, it’s a sign that I’ve been running a lot…which always corresponds with eating a lot…which is going to lead to me carrying a few extra pounds with me on race day if I make it.
Now I’m not saying I’m fat. I’m not, I know it, I’m grateful and I am not one of those women who exercises just to be a certain size. BUT, where I am most ample, relatively speaking, is in the thigh area–which is also where I tend to pack on a bit of muscle when I ramp up mileage. Throw in lots of those miles run at a slow and efficient pace, coupled with the fact that I am just running and not mixing in any workout variety yet eating like every day is the Super Bowl, and you have the makings of 98% cotton/2% Lycra stretched to the very limits of its engineered design.
I welcome the muscle and love the fact that I am feeling strong. My foot has been making a great recovery and has felt about 80% the past several days. I feel like I want to run more miles, like I could take on more than I’m doing…I am rolling! But I am treating the fact that I am training as an excuse to snarf any food in sight. I haven’t met a flour-based food product that I haven’t decimated within the last week. I am acting like running 30 miles per week necessitates Michael Phelps-like calorie consumption, when I know better.
I don’t know how people lose weight while training for long-distance races. True, many of them have lots of weight to lose, so it stands to reason that they would drop some major weight, whereas I am firmly entrenched in that club of reasonably-fit people who would love to just get back down a size or so…the club of people who just can’t lose that stubborn 5-10 pounds. Still, the way that running fires up my appetite is stunning…and so are the size of my quadriceps these days, tucked under a nice layer of mom fat and forcing my denim to work overtime.
It’s time to tone it down a bit and to focus on the dreaded N-word…nutrition. I need to pay better attention to what I am putting in my 40-year old body in preparation for the marathon. Though I don’t eat terribly bad, I’m not eating terribly well, either, and I’ve been taking in a high volume of empty crap calories along with my eggs, bananas and almonds.
I drove the race course yesterday afternoon, which turned out to be a great idea. The race is April 20th, and I keep thinking that it’s either a long way off or coming up too quickly, depending on my schizo mood and what I am doing at any given moment (more than likely stuffing my face, as of late). The biggest part of me thinks “Oh Jesus Christ, I haven’t even run 15 miles yet and I have to run 26.2 in just over two months! Shit!”, while my seldom-seen more rational persona thinks “Oh, I still have over two months for this whole plan to come together…easy!”
I panicked the other day when I saw the course mapped out in Garmin Connect, as I wrote in my previous post. It just seemed so, well, long! You know, like 26.2 miles or something. Still, I had the urge to take a look and see just how evil it looked in person.
It takes a fair amount of time to drive 26.2 miles when you are mostly cruising residential streets. It really seemed intimidating, and yet it wasn’t. I tried to go all touchy-feely freaky-deaky and visualized myself running those streets as I slowly drove through the course. I got a good picture of just how nasty the few hills really are (and they are nasty, though the course is extremely flat overall), but instead of wanting to cry I felt anticipation. I may actually make it…if I can just stop eating.
Happy Monday, and thanks for checking in with this MaybeMarathoner!