Since I’ve forayed into this mystical world where I drag
myself out of bed at 6:30am on Sunday mornings so I have enough time to walk
the dog, brush my teeth and have my preferred pre-run breakfast of toast with
peanut butter, I’ve noticed myself throwing around an awful lot of terms no one else cares about understands as they relate to my particular
lack of
fueling: this is basically an excuse to eat pasta (example: dinner on Monday – tortellini; dinner on Tuesday – spaghetti; dinner on Wednesday – mac ‘n’ cheese; dinner on Thursday – pad thai; dinner on Friday – pasta salad). This is also a great excuse to eat a ridiculous amount of pistachios in preparation for a post work run; all in the name of protein.
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carb loading: not only can I have all of the pasta I want (because that is fueling), but I will add French fries as well.
marathon training plan: ah yes. The fantastic 8.5” by 11” page that details the next 18 weeks of my life, you know… the one that judges you harshly should you not obey it’s wishes completely? Yep.
training run: can refer to any time I hit the pavement. Example: I ran from my car to the mailbox – training run. I ran after the dog when I realized he wasn’t tied to the patio – training run. I ran to my car after work when it was hailing – training run.
long run: here is where the waking up at 6:30am on Sunday mornings comes into play. I’ll be up and at ‘em with my favorite gear on and eager to go. I’ll start off too fast and by mile 4 I can feel all the tiny bones in my feet and am complaining in my head about what a stupid idea this was.
recovery run: I will be outside. I will be running. But, I will be taking my sweet time because I feel like the miles logged on a long run were enough to carry me through the week.
rest day: this is where I excel. The glorious days when there is zero physical effort scheduled on the ‘ol training plan. Please find me by the pool and bring me some sangria.
speed work: not so speedy, but I try really hard with longer rest breaks in between bouts of “speed”.
PR (personal record): for me this typically involves being close enough to see the clock at the finish line and trying to coax my legs to turn over faster in an effort to shave precious seconds off my race time. Usually once I cross the finish line (saving maybe 5 seconds) I feel violently ill and instantly regret that "quick walk break" I had at water station number 2.
MP – marathon pace: ...maybe… possibly… I’ll be under 10 minutes per mile for the majority of 26.2 miles.
junk miles: these don’t exist. If I ran a mile, it counts.
