Endurance run number 4, finally!

I think I ran 17 miles today. Ish.

I looped my two 4.5 mile runs together and then did the 3.7 mile trail out and back, then ran the connecting distance, which I estimate at, well, I don't know.

I had planned on doing the run yesterday morning early, so I set my alarm for 4:30, figuring I could take my thyroid pill, give myself the required half hour before eating, then eat some oatmeal, then give myself the two hours of digestion necessary before a big run.

I'm much better at planning than execution.

I did wake up at 4:30 and take my pill. But I felt like ass. I was up later than I should have been Friday night and I spent the entire day (minus a couple of interviews) procrastinating on writing my stories. Procrastination, a.k.a. stalling on deadlines, more often than not equals anxiety-induced binge eating for me. Giving myself the excuse that I should carbo load for the upcoming run anyway . . . well, lets just say there's no more bread in my freezer or Japanese noodles in my pantry. And I was still feeling the effects Saturday morning.

Let the record stand: I should never, never load anything into my body, but especially not carbs.

I had read that there's no science to support the benefits of carbo loading for women anyway, but it was one of those days in which I didn't need science to support my behavior. Damn. Had too many of those days lately.

Which is why I gained 5 pounds this week. Doesn't seem possible. Until I think about all the ice cream, nuts and buttered toast I ate. Plus my period is due next week sometime, so hopefully that sort of bloat has something to do with it. But damn. 5 POUNDS!

I've also heard that carbo loading helps the little cells of the body hold onto water, one of the bonuses of doing such a thing before a long run. . . . so maybe it is mostly water weight, but . . .

Do you see how my crazy mind works? When it comes to my weight, it's been doing this since puberty--which was a long, damn time ago.

But the running.

So I didn't put in the 16 miles on Saturday as planned. But I was feeling so lousy by the end of the day that I did an easy 5-miler instead. And I instantly felt better. A-friggin'-mazing.

Today I had the same brilliant plan to wake up before the ass crack of dawn, take pill, eat, etc. Got up and took the pill, but . . . you know the drill. Finally got up at 8ish, had my oats and egg whites at 9, watched CBS Sunday Morning, read my favorite parts of the Times (front page, Travel, magazine, Styles, A&L dance stories), checked out Bob Schieffer, and at 11, headed out.

I knew the heat would be against me, but a lovely breeze tempered the hot. I also set off armed with a packet of powergel, Powerbar's version of Gu, complete with plenty of electrolytes, caffeine and whatever else that when combined functions as an adrenaline shot to the heart for endurance athletes. I sucked it down sometime around mile 10, when I was near a water fountain to help wash down that crap. It did occur to me at the time that it would probably taste pretty good coming back up, as far as those things go. (What? a girl can't get a little queasy after running 10 miles in the middle of an 85 degree day and sucking down slimy vanilla-flavored high tech goo?) (By the way, at the top of the worst-thing-ever-to-barf-up list has to be a tie between the infamous Guinness/Doritos combo and the Mexican fish stew/strawberry daquiri combo--that one actually wasn't from the drink, but from the dreaded Montezuma's Revenge.)

But that sweet, slimy shit did the trick. I powered through the next 7ish miles pretty well. No high speeds, mind you, but I ran the whole route, no stopping and walking. Hooray!

Including 4 water/stretching stops and cooling down the last half mile with walking, I finished in 3:23.

My hamstrings came close to seizing up late in the game. Them were sore. I blame TTT's butt blasting on Friday (leave it to my pancake ass to disregard the exercises and send them straight to the hamstrings instead). But I might need to add some pilates to my training so I don't lose my flexibility with all this pounding.

I also discovered the source of last week's chafing. The old pants (my favorite!) had a busted seam on the left inner thigh, leaving some scratchy, nylon thread to rub raw my skin. They went straight in the bin.

But I did pick up some Boudreaux's Buttpaste at Target, just in case. . . .

One other addition to my repertoire . . . I wore a bandanna around my head to catch the sweat before it dropped into my eyes. This was an excellent idea. It helped trick me into thinking I wasn't sweating very much. Not until I got home did I discover the salt crystals normally gathered on my face after such a lengthy run, were also present on my arms and legs. That's some serious sweating, my friends.

All in all, I feel moderately triumphant. Despite the weight gain and the ridiculous anxiety-induced chowing down this week, I did stick to my training. In fact, I ultimately put in more miles than scheduled. I also lifted weights and put in some serious cardio time at the gym three times. So in one respect I was disciplined. . . .

But if we look at me from an astrological perspective it makes perfect sense, really. As a Sagittarius, I am a wild, free spirit and philosopher by nature who loves athletics and the outdoors; with a Taurus rising, I have a deep love and respect for beauty and culture, a bent toward being stubborn, and a passion for (over)indulging my palate(s); with a Capricorn moon, I am a workhorse who craves discipline.

So, that's me in a nutshell. And I think it explains my week. Now I just need to work on reshuffling the tendencies while remaining true to my nature. That's what real health will look like, I suspect. Regardless, I hope to find out.