Amy Reinink

Have I mentioned lately that I’m training for the Marine Corps Marathon?

I’m happy to report that, so far, it’s been going pretty well! I ran eight miles two weeks ago, 10 miles just before I left for Monterey, and something like 11 yesterday morning. The eight-miler left me feeling like I could conquer the world, with all the excitement and thrill of accomplishment a long run should carry. The 10-plus-milers were unbelievably hard in the summer heat, but hard in the right way: Other than a tiny bit of lingering soreness, my IT band has held up just fine!

I’d been so worried about my ITB, I’d forgotten that long runs are, like, hard, as illustrated by yesterday’s 11-ish-miler. This week’s kind of a crazy one, as I’m leaving on Thursday to see my parents in Florida, and I have no intention of tackling a long run down there. I’d planned to wake up early to run 12 miles before — early enough to squeeze in some work I knew I needed to do first thing in the morning. Too bad my body’s still on California time … I slept til 8, forcing me to work first, meaning I didn’t leave for my run until 9:30 a.m. It was 89 degrees in Washington yesterday morning, and felt like 94, according to Weather.com.

I sucked it up and did it anyway, running on the trails for a little more than an hour and 40 minutes. I’d like to think I went faster than 10-minute miles, but at worst, I figure I did 10 miles.

I felt tired right off the bat, and by the end of the run, I was shuffling up the considerable hills on my route. By the last mile, a long, sunny uphill on the roads to get back to my apartment from the trails, I’m not even sure you could call what I was doing “running.” But I finished, which I know to be the whole point of long runs.

I’m getting to the point that my long runs are starting to develop the sense of adventure and whimsy I remember from my last bout of marathon training in 2007. Yesterday, that meant a loud exclamation of, “Yeah!” when I came upon the water bottle I’d stashed mid-route, and laughing out loud when I came upon downhill sections of the trails. I also cackled pretty loudly when I took off my shirt to wring it out (did I mention it was 89 degrees?). There’s simply no matching the joy of closing in on the end of a long run, no matter how the run has gone.

Here’s what motivated me: Remembering how hard I’ve worked in the gym on my amped-up core routine. Also, listening to Jack Johnson to keep me in the slow-and-steady mindset. Really, he was a better fit for the trails, anyway — Eminem’s great, but Rock Creek Park ain’t no 8 Mile. “Upside Down” really did the trick on my last, sluggish uphills.

I honestly still feel a little tired today, like I’m coming down with something, or like I have a spot of heat exhaustion. Is it messed up that this makes me feel a little bit hard-core, even though I mostly feel exhausted?

Next up: a recovery ride on the stationary bike today.

“I saw eternity the other night/Like a great ring of pure and endless light.”

I got this Henry Vaughan poem in my head like a song while lying on the beach in Carmel, Calif., as my husband and I watched shooting stars zoom through the great starry awesomeness of the night sky above us. It was right about then that I decided: I will find a way to run the Big Sur Marathon.

Let me explain. It’s not that I’m so obsessed with running that I let thoughts about my favorite hobby ruin this most romantic of moments. It’s just that we’d spent the day driving through Big Sur, and I felt wistful rather than warm and fuzzy. That’s the kind of beautiful Monterey, Calif., and the surrounding area is: I truly felt unable to absorb it all in one viewing, no matter how thoughtfully I tried to observe. In Big Sur especially, as much as I tried to drink in the ribbon of rocky coastline above a deep turquoise-blue Pacific Ocean, I felt barely able to grasp the surface. This reminded me of one of my favorite parts about running: the way it can be part sightseeing, part exercise in meditation, forcing you to slow down and appreciate the tiny things — the smell of wild sage growing on the roadside, the otters and sea lions barely visible in the surf — as well as the giant ones.

That was basically the whole idea behind our trip, which included four full days in Monterey and the surrounding area, then two full days in San Francisco, including an afternoon trip to Sonoma. It didn’t hurt that the friends we were visiting are all about the running-hiking-biking lifestyle; Sarah is my rock-star runner-friend who coached me through my first (and so far, only) marathon in 2007, and she just kicked butt in the San Francisco Marathon last month. My first day in town included a Sarah-guided six-mile run on the Monterey Bay Rec Trail, which winds along the most beautiful stretch of coastline I’ve ever seen. Next up: a nice recovery ride through Pebble Beach. Well, for me it was a recovery ride; Sarah towed a toddler and a baby in the bike trailer, making it a bike ride and a hard-core strength workout all in one. We even hung out at the Monterey Sports Center, a bright, sunny gym where Sarah joined me in my tedious-but-necessary core workout.

Even without a workout buddy, Monterey begs for physical activity and general good health, with its miles of gorgeous running trails and its bounty of fresh produce. On Monday night, we went to the Pacific Grove Farmers Market for fresh halibut and berries for dessert. Tuesday night, we ate at the Monterey Farmers Market, where I could have made a dinner from the free fruit samples alone.

The sightseeing by foot and bike continued in San Francisco, where we started our trip by renting bikes to cross the Golden Gate Bridge, truly one of the most awesome and beautiful experiences of my life. Then, on our last day in town, we started the morning with one of the most memorable runs I’ve ever been on.

We headed out from our hotel downtown hoping to get in a quick 30-minute jog. An hour and ten minutes later, we had run up Lombard Street, famous for its steep, hairpin twists and turns (SFTravel.com declares that if not for the switchbacks, the road is so steep “people would be killed rolling down.” Yikes!); along Fisherman’s Wharf and through another awesome-looking farmers market; by The Embarcadero; past AT&T Park and McCovey Cove; and through a couple more cool neighborhoods we wouldn’t have seen if not for that run.

Now that I’m back home, I miss Monterey as if it were a person. I’m meeting my husband for our regular Monday afternoon swim date later, and without him being there, I’m not sure I’d be able to tolerate a workout that doesn’t include stunning views of the Pacific Ocean. Good thing I’m planning to go back, huh?

Incidentally, if you like my other amped-up core workout, check out today’s Examiner.com post listing every IT band exercise and stretch known to man (or at least known to me). My new motivation to do these exercises? I want to be strong enough to run the Big Sur Marathon sometime sooner rather than later!

Amy will be posting sporadically this week, as she’ll be spending time with one of her dearest, oldest friends, who’s visiting from Denver.

The week after, she won’t be posting at all, as she’ll be trail-running, winery-visiting, Big-Sur-going in Monterey. Stay tuned … photos to follow!

Earlier this week, I started an amped-up core routine that aims to make me

Jumping in today will be tough. But I need to do it to remind me I’m fierce.

the Tim Tebow of amateur marathon running: I may not have the slickest form or most natural skills, so I am going to get strong enough to plow through my obstacles. For Tebow, the obstacles would be linebackers. For me, it’s a perenially cranky IT band.

I’ve done two hard-core days of the new routine. Then, I did the first “long” run in my tentative plan to train for the Marine Corps Marathon. It was only eight miles (I’m used to six, and ran a 10-mile race as recently as May), but the core work, plus the run, plus some hard hills earlier this week has left me really, really sore.

I’m also the kind of tired you can only be on a Friday afternoon, when you’re trying to spur yourself to get that one last little bit of work done before the weekend. I might be tempted to skip my swim workout this afternoon/evening — if not for two motivators.

The first is Steve, my husband and swim partner, who is planning on a swim date.

The second is this nice quote from Anne at her Audacious Redhead blog: “Running doesn’t define me. It’s just something I need to do to remember who I am- which is FIERCE.”

I agree wholeheartedly, and I know I need to swim this afternoon to remind myself that I’m fierce, strong and graceful — no matter how I might be feeling at the moment!

My workout, adapted from the super-cool Diving Back In blog on The Washington Post’s swimming page:

500 warmup

five 100s (500), five 75s (375), five 50s (250) and five 25s (125) = 1,250 (do 2x = 2,500)

I make three goals for every race: An A-goal that’s incredibly tough, but still

Me and Steve with our running group-post race.

possible; a B-goal that’s lofty, but do-able; and a C-goal that draws the line between acceptable and “I shall weep into my free beer now.”

You never expect you’ll really need your C-goal, especially for a race as short as a 5K, which has far fewer variables than, say, a marathon. My C-goal for the Crystal City Twilighter 5K was to run it in 24 minutes and change. Indeed, I went 24-high (24:43, to be exact), and the goal became bouncing back quickly, because really, who wants to be the middle-of-the-pack runner who takes herself so seriously, she cries into her free beer over a rough race?

So I shook it off after a minute or two of disbelief, then had a blast at a cool post-race party with my running buddies. Steve, who was also about a minute off the time he’d hoped to run, did the same.

Read my full race review for Examiner.com here. Here’s how the race went down for me:

It was one of those runs when I just felt heavy from the start, like I had  somehow gained 10 pounds from the car to the start of the race. But I shook off that feeling, and just enjoyed the sight of a horde of smiling runners, dripping-wet from the pre-race downpour, making their way through Crystal City. I used some of the positive self-talk I learned during my recent weeklong mind-games series , and felt pretty great.

Then, I passed the 1-mile marker — in 7:54. Um, excuse me? This is my go-to pace for a hard 5-mile training run, making it unacceptable for a 5K I’m trying to run quickly. My 5Ks have never been particularly speedy, and I consider it my toughest distance. But I can usually go 23 and change, which seems respectable enough to me.

To my credit, I quit trash-talking myself about this pretty quickly and picked up the pace, running the next mile in 7 minutes after my nice little warmup. I felt like death, though — hot and heavy and slow. I felt that way until the moment I crossed the finish line, where Steve was waiting for me with his own disappointment.

To be fair to my body: I have been laying low to get ready for Marine Corps Marathon training, eschewing the long runs and speedwork until August, per my running doc’s orders. And I usually do go slower in the heat. And, as my husband and I discussed after the race, spending the day laying out by our pool probably wasn’t the best way to rest up beforehand. I’m not sure why I expected to run a fast time, other than to say that I’m an eternal optimist.

Greg Dale, director of sports psychology and leadership programs for Duke Athletics, who I talked to for a story last week (for more of his tips, click here), says it’s important to feel disappointment about a bad race, then let the feelings go while thinking about what went RIGHT during a race.

And I did a lot of things right. I’ve got my pre-race nutrition plan down to a science, with homemade pizza for the last big pre-race meal, then a Luna bar or low-fat muffin with a latte about two hours before the race. I’m psyched that the prospect of running in the rain no longer annoys me or gets me down, because I’m back in the mode of training no matter what the weather. I also did a good job of shaking off that first slow mile, even though I ultimately didn’t save the whole race.

Most importantly, I did a great job of keeping the race in perspective. Steve and I had a great time with our running buddies after the race. Then, on the Metro ride home, we started looking for our next 5K.

I’m taking an off-day today in preparation for the Crystal City 5K tomorrow

If nothing else, I'll get a sweet technical T-shirt out of the Crystal City Twilighter 5K!

night. I’m excited for the party, and am going easy on myself goal-wise, in light of my hip’s recent crankiness and the 86-degree temps forecasted for race night.

My A-goal (the wowza, that would be crazy, but not impossible if everything went my way goal): Break 23 minutes. B-goal (the realistic, but still exciting and tough one): 23 and change. C-goal (the still-acceptable one): 24 and change. D-goal (special for this race): Finish. Obtain sweet technical T-shirt from race packet. Obtain post-race drinks and Noodles. Enjoy the party.

In the past few days, I’ve done the following things worthy of patting myself on the back, or of sharing with you here:

• Convinced myself, with a complicated reward system involving a big, fat Greek pita, to do my entire lineup of core/hip/physical therapy exercises.
• Wrote a guest post about Washington’s best hill routes for Rebecca Scritchfield’s wonderful and informative sports nutrition blog (thanks, Rebecca!).
• Swam a 3,000 on Wednesday. What’s special about that? I did it, like, straight. No sets. Just a 3,000. It was a complete accident, as I hopped in the pool intending to crank out a few 800s with a few 200s to follow. But I just. Didn’t. Wanna. Do. 800s. So I kept swimming til I’d done a 1,000 warmup. Then a 1,650. Then … I sort of just kept going. My thought pattern: I was just barely eking out an uninspired swim, and what does that do, training-wise? I figured I’d make the best of a slow day by doing something that’s tough for me mentally: Swimming straight through, with no sets to break up the boredom.
• A very hilly 5-miler on our Grubb Road Out-and-Back in 41 minutes and change on Thursday night! I felt crappy, barely managing to keep up with the group that followed me out the door with the 8:30-or9-mm pace group, but reminded myself that this isn’t always an indication of a crappy run. It poured on us for a large majority of the run, and I decided to think this was hilarious rather than disastrous. And it felt GOOD!
• Found a neat set of commandments on Healthy Ashley’s Blog that inspired me to make my own set of commandments. OK, actually, it inspired me to copy hers, with some slight tweaks to make them apply to me. Don’t judge.They’re listed below:

– Value my body. I will not overtrain it by running more than 3-4 days a week. I will remind that following the FIRST plan makes me faster, not slower, and that if I’m injured, I don’t run at all.