Sick

Kevin’s last day of class was last Tuesday (!!!). To celebrate, he and some buddies went and got sushi. Kevin hadn’t been feeling super good all day, but halfway through eating sushi, the worst stomach bug ever hit him. He spent the next two days so sick, it was very sad. So we binge watched Once Upon a Time and spent a lot of time on the couch. I’m so glad he’s feeling better!

As crappy as it was having a sick hubby, it was nice to just relax and spend time together.

Some thoughts about the semester so far

Well, we're about a month into the semester. I'm super surprised by how this semester is going. Let's just say that things have not gone at all like I thought they would. I've had to make some major adjustments and I've learned some things about my ability to function during winter semester. I'm kind of shocked by how different this semester is going than last semester. Even though life is pretty much the same as it was during the fall, I seem to have lost my ability to do a lot of things. For example:

Last semester I was a boss at working out. I had a rocking work-out schedule and I stuck to it with no exceptions.
This semester I have been so lazy, especially since my race. I told myself that it was just because I needed to rest and recover, but it's gone past that. Even when I go to the gym I just do 30 minutes on the elliptical and then leave. And most of the days lately, I just haven't worked out at all. I miss it. I can feel it. I feel yucky.

Last semester I did super well at keeping the apartment clean. Not perfect, but for the most part I felt like everything was in order.
This semester I feel like I cannot keep up with the housework. The laundry is always overflowing, the dishwasher is always packed and dirty, I never ever vacuum because it just feels too hard. Kevin has had to help me keep things clean way more than he should (the boy is taking 18 credits of chemical engineering, he should not be worrying about helping me with chores).

Last semester I stayed so on top of my schoolwork. I (almost) always did my readings and my assignments well ahead of time, and I was super motivated to get homework done before I did anything else.
This semester I keep getting super overwhelmed by what I have to do and to cope with it I just pretend like I don't have to do anything and I watch a movie or read a book instead. Just to be clear, I really don't have that much to do. I do have more going on than I did in the fall, but it's not that much more. For some reason  I just can't bring myself to do it. I haven't been doing any of the readings for my classes (which makes the 200$ I spent on textbooks really redundant!).

Last semester I had so much energy and I felt like I could do anything and everything.
This semester I feel tired all.the.time (and no, I'm not pregnant).

Senoritis? Seasonal Depression? Who knows?

The good news here is that even though the semester has been kind of cruddy so far, it is in my ability to change things. This week has been slightly better because I've made a couple of changes. The biggest thing is that I've changed my work-out time. So far this semester I've tried to do it in the middle of the way when I have time, but that has NOT been working. So from now on, I'll be working out in the mornings (I'm such a morning person). I"m sure this will help things a lot.

Something else I'm going to change is my attitude. Instead of saying "what is my problem?? Last semester I was doing fine, why am I such a failure this semester?" I'll say, "today was really hard, and there are some things that I can just let slide. Tomorrow's a new day and I'm ready to try again."

12 weeks left of this semester. I can do it. I may not do it well, but I will do it and I will pass all of my classes (hopefully).

St. George 1/2 Marathon

I feel an obligation to myself to post about the half marathon this past weekend. So I'm going to. 

I tried really hard the week before the race to take it easy so I wouldn't hurt myself more while still being active enough that my knee would be happy. I did a lot of ice/heat combinations, and leg exercises and stretching. Apparently it wasn't enough.

I felt awesome for about 1.75 miles. Then we got to the top of this hill and I was like "Crap. Here comes the knee pain." I hoped it might loosen up, but it didn't. It continuously got worse for the next 11.26 miles. In the past, whenever I have had IT band pain I reach a point where my legs will not work anymore and I have to walk for a half mile or so. I was afraid that this was going to happen. I decided to try and push through for as long as I could. We quickly got into a rhythm of running for .8 of a mile and then walking until the next mile. There were water stations every 2ish miles so we would stretch like crazy every time we got there. 

It hurt so badly. Anytime I lifted my leg off the ground and bent my knee it felt like there was a giant metal hook in my knee yanking it and tearing it. So even though we were running the majority of the time, were running super slow (like 12-13 minute miles). 

My mom was awesome. For the first 6 miles or so I kept apologizing for being so slow, for being such a mess, but she made it clear that she was here to run this with me and nothing else mattered. I really appreciate her support. 

When we hit 8 miles, we stopped and stretched, but when we started again it felt like the knee pain had tripled. This worried me a lot. We decided to walk the next mile and then see how we felt. So we literally walked an entire mile. It was beyond frustrating. Everything else on my body felt incredible and I was aching to just RUN. But I had decided that I was going to have a good attitude about this race even though it was hard. So we had a grand old time just walking away and when we finally hit 9 miles things felt a little better (about as painful as it had been earlier). 

4 miles left. We started running .75 and then walking the last quarter mile. I think we stopped stretching at this point because it was literally doing nothing anymore. Once we hit 10 mom said, "we just have a 5K left!" For some reason that kick started it for me. When we ran I was running a little faster. 

I realized toward the beginning of the race that when I was going uphill, my knee didn't hurt nearly as bad, and then the second it leveled out/started going downhill the pain increased exponentially. So the whole race we were killing those uphills and then as soon as we'd go down I would practically cry. Most of the time we walked downhills. It felt so funny and opposite because normal people walk uphills and let the downhills carry them. 

When we hit mile 11 I wanted to run the whole thing. That's what I said, "I think I can run the last two miles without walking." Not even 5 minutes later I was like "Just kidding!!" because the knee pain got way worse. So we started walking about 11.75 and decided to walk until 12.25. Right when we hit 12.25, my aunts and their friend showed up. They had finished the half something like an hour before us (I know right?) and came to see us to the finish. They helped distract me and I was able to pick up the pace more even though it hurt like heck. I just wanted to be down SO badly. My aunt Frances was coaching me through the whole time. "Okay girl, we're just going to go around this corner and then turn right and it'll be right there. Can you hear the announcer? You're almost done!" 

When we hit mile 13 and went around the corner I spanked my mom and started sprinting (a little too soon). My knee was screaming at me. I think if it could have made sound, we all would have been deaf from the noise. There was hardly anyone left at the finish line to cheer us on because we were way at the back of the pack. I saw my amazing and supportive husband with the camera, taking pictures, then running to get ahead of us again. Then we crossed the mats at 2 hours 57 minutes and I about collapsed. I instantly wanted to just sit down and never move again, but the abrupt stop made my legs start to cramp up. 

Kevin jumped the barrier and grabbed me in his arms. I cried into his neck a little bit. I drank chocolate milk and ate string cheese and fruit leather and forced myself to walk around so I wouldn't cramp. I was done. I had finished. I had pushed through even though it hurt for 2 1/2 hours straight. I felt like I could do anything. 

I'm incredibly bummed that I was injured for this race. I trained really hard all year and I wish my run could have reflected that a little bit more. But in some ways, I'm even more proud of myself for pushing through when I was in so much pain. I didn't know I was capable of that, but now I do. I really can do hard, painful things and that is an empowering thought.

So now the question is, how soon should I run another half marathon and which one should I do? :)

Thanks for reading, if you made it this far, and thanks all, for your love and support. I feel blessed to have it.