And then the snow came. And the cold.

On Friday December 23 I ran with a few friends at the Boulder Res in 2 degree temps. My top half was warm, my bottom half went numb from the cold. The next day I ran at the Res again, this time with my Saturday Morning gang. Wary about being cold, I checked the temp in two places before getting dressed. Unfortunately I was fooled again by the extreme fluctuation between Louisville and the Boulder Reservoir, and I ran in 6-degree cold even more under-dressed than I was the previous day.

All this is to say that by Saturday night my body was feeling the effects of the cold. My core still had not regulated back to normal, my legs were heavy with the lactic acid that had built up and not moved out, and I was tired. Bone tired. The tired that comes when your body finally stops working to keep you warm, and relaxes.

On Christmas morning I could barely move. I slept wrong and there was a pinch in my back somewhere. I felt like I had gotten two hours of sleep even though I slept soundly for six. My brain was foggy.

That afternoon I crashed for three hours. I said goodbye to the light of day at 2pm and woke to complete darkness at 5:00. Still hoping to run on Monday, I ate an egg sandwich and drove over to pick up my sister; we wanted to see the 6:45pm showing of Sherlock Holmes. Unfortunately it was sold out, so we waited an hour to catch it again. We walked around the outside mall for 10 minutes, looking to see if any place was open where we could get a drink while we waited. As we walked the cold hit my legs and I was instantly shivering. Everything was closed, so we went back to the theater where I treated my sister to a $3 cup of coffee at the over-priced concession stand. I sat with my down coat over my legs, trying to warm them up.

I enjoyed the movie and even laughed out loud in one place. I drove my sister home and headed back to my own warm bed, where I set my alarm for 6:30. We had a start time of 8am on Monday.

The alarm went off at 6:30 and I hit the snooze button. I groaned. This wasn’t really happening. I didn’t even have to get up to know that I didn’t have an epic run in me. Not today.

And yet, I had to try. Maybe I would go and just do one loop. Maybe I had 10 miles in me. Maybe it would be really great to see my friends and get on the mountain and move my body.

But first I had to go to the store. I was out of milk so couldn’t have my cereal. No bananas, my favorite pre-run food. My stash of LaraBars and ClifChews was gone, which meant no nutrition for the run.

I quickly dressed and headed to the store, luxuriating in the fact that I was the only shopper there. What a fabulous change from the break-neck consumerism of the past few weeks. I found my items and was home by 7:28.

The moment of truth had arrived. Was I ready to pull this off? The answer was a resounding NO. I didn’t have a trail run in me today. I didn’t have the energy. I was hungry and dehydrated, my legs were heavy, and even the brief walk from the car to the store chilled my legs. Running up a mountain was not in the cards for me. Not today.

I logged onto DailyMile and sent Nico a note, hoping he would see it before he left his house at 7:55 to meet the gang at the trailhead. It was my only way of getting in touch with him, as I didn’t have his or AJ’s phone number to call or text them.

I decided to make a little lemonade out of my situation and called a friend. He had just put a pot of coffee on so I headed over to partake in the hot beverage. We each drank three huge mugs of coffee and eventually ate some breakfast to sop up the acid in our stomachs.

Upon returning home I decided to vacuum my bedroom. One thing led to another, and I ended up rearranging the furniture and deep-cleaning the room, getting into all the corners, moving pictures and emptying out some clutter.

At 12:30, as my lunch was cooking on the stove, I checked DailyMile to see what people were up to. As luck would have it AJ had just posted about the run. His stats said he ran 11 miles in 3:45. Three hours and forty five miles to run 11 miles. I blinked in surprise and read the post. 30 mph winds in some places. Waist-high snow between miles 5-8. Post-holing in places. Trudging. Didn’t have enough nutrition. Wasn’t expecting the level of difficulty.

And then I was glad that I listened to my gut instinct. If it was that hard for three big guys that have more muscle mass than me, it would have been brutal for this tired runner girl. Instead of running trail on a mountain that would surely have beat me down, I had coffee with a friend and puttered around my bedroom, rearranging and cleaning in the warmth of my house.

This concludes my run report for the Christmas weekend. Here’s hoping for some more rest and recovery. I didn’t run (yet) today, and might just give it another day or two. I might just wait until I’m itching to go.

I knew it was cold, and was almost prepared. Just not quite. I wore a fleece-lined wicking shirt, another wind layer, and my lined running jacket. Smartwool liner gloves (no top layer gloves). Orange hat with the fleece lining around the ears. Unlined running pants. Smartwool ankle socks and trail shoes.

Can you picture it? Warm head, warm torso, freezing cold legs and hands. Yup. That was me.

I wasn’t too worried about the hands because my jacket sleeves are long enough to pull over the backs of my hands, and then when I curl my fingers in the hands are mostly protected. What I noticed was that my butt, thighs and quads were just exposed and cold. Numb, actually. The cold was hard but once my legs got numb things felt a lot better.

We ran at a good, easy 8:30 pace along the roads, never trying to get onto the snow-pack around the Res. None of us wore YakTrax or screw shoes, so the roads were our best bet. Dave and Jo’s Garmins synced right away; mine was having a hard time finding the satellites so I said “screw it” and just went.

The sky was just beginning to brighten when we started off, giving us just a taste of the clear sky that would be the focal point when the sun came up. I had sunglasses in my pocket for when the sun crested the horizon and gave me snow-blindness; Dave and Jo were just barely concerned, as we would finish the run just minutes after the sun showed its beautiful face. They would be okay.

We chatted about our upcoming Colorado Marathon in May. Dave asked me where I planned on staying that night, and I had to honestly say that lodging hadn’t even crossed my mind. That gave us another good laugh, as a few of our Type A friends had taken care of that detail the moment after they registered for the race and we were still discussing possibilities and roommate situations. (We can safely say that I’m not Type A.)

At mile 3 we turned around and headed back. It wasn’t any warmer, but the blood had warmed and my hands were toasty. Jo unzipped the pit zippers of her jacket, and they commented on the frost coating my braids. Dave and Jo both said their toes were a little cold; I didn’t seem to have that problem.

Back at the car Dave snapped a picture of my frosty braids, and another one of me and Jo.

Frosty braids

We had bonded over our mutual love of Mumford and Sons when she told me about creating a Christmas card using the cover art of their album, Sigh No More. I invited her to join the Saturday Morning Run group some time, and the coffee social hour afterwards! She was totally game and we coordinated the time/place via email later that afternoon.

This morning I woke up to a purring cat snuggled against my back as I lay warm and toasty in my bed. I lingered there for a few minutes, knowing that this warmth would be the last heat I would enjoy for the next 4 hours. Giving a little c’est la vie sigh and steeling myself for the hardest part of the morning, I made myself sit up and put feet on the floor.

Once in motion the rest came easier. Since I didn’t get laundry done from yesterday I pulled yesterday’s running tights from the hamper and found a longsleeve fleece-lined wicking shirt in the shirt pile. I layered my red Las Vegas Rock N’ Roll Half Marathon t-shirt over the black shirt so I didn’t look like Ninja Runner Girl. Smartwool ankle socks. Smartwool hat and the liner gloves again. Trail shoes.

The thermometer outside my window read 20 degrees and I was banking on this to be true. Did I wear a jacket? Nope. A second layer on my legs, as I had learned my lesson from yesterday? Nope. Another pair of gloves? Of course not.

Foolish me. It was warmer than yesterday, a whopping 6 degrees at the Boulder Res.

I did another c’est la vie sigh when I realized the error of my ways and decided to deal with my problem by running and raising my heart rate. The only other option was missing the run, and that wasn’t going to happen in this lifetime.

We had a smaller group this week, probably due to the cold and the fact that it’s Christmas Eve. Jo made it and was welcomed to the group by the uber-friendly ladies that I hang with. After a few minutes we hit the trail and checked out the powder around the Res. The going was moderate, as we ran in parallel tire tracks which saved our legs from breaking trail. My face was so much colder today than yesterday, and I realized just how much protection my orange hunter’s hat had provided. After 2 miles my fingers were warm but my wrists were frozen. My jacket yesterday had shielded so much, and today I was exposed. Oops.

After the freezing cold run we headed over to Tod’s Coffee shop, where I marched into the warmth of the building, ordered myself a 20-ounce dirty chai and wrapped my frozen hands around the cup.  The heavenly beverage warmed me, and I luxuriated in the yummy hitting my belly and the fabulous conversation and company of my friends.

It’s Christmas Eve.  Happy holidays all!

It started Sunday afternoon when I took my daughter out for the afternoon.  We were headed to the 2:15 show of “Avatar” and I couldn’t stop yawning.  I actually thought I might fall asleep in the theater.  Luckily, this didn’t happen, as I would have been more than cranky about wasting all that good money on a nap that wasn’t even in my own bed.

What’s a person to do when the throat gets scratchy, your ears have that achy feeling and you’re more than a little tired?  I don’t know about you, but this is what I do.

Kick-Ass Immune Activator, Green Tea, Neti Pot

1.  Sleep.  I’m a huge fan of sleeping when I’m not feeling my best.  I sleep 10-12 hours a night when I feel a cold coming on.  No kidding.

2.  Neti Pot.  This is done with the cute little ceramic Neti Pot and saline solution.  It’s not uncomfortable, I promise.  The weirdest part is getting the right tilt to your head to the saline runs from one nostril to the other, without running down your throat.  Believe me, you’ll know when you’re doing it right.  Be sure to have a box of tissues ready when you come up for air, as you’ll want to gently blow out the remaining water so it doesn’t drip down your throat.  My 10 year old squeamish daughter can do this.

3.  Kick-Ass Immune Activator, made by WishGarden.  I take two dropperfuls of this every 1-3 hours, depending on how I’m feeling.

4.  Hydrogen Peroxide in the ears.  Let me explain.  Lay down so that you can drop a few drops in one ear, letting it settle for 2-3 minutes.  Put a tissue up to your ear so you can sit up and let the liquid drain.  Repeat on the other side.  I don’t know why this works, but it does.  A friend told me about this a few years ago.  I’ve done it multiple times, with 100% success.  Go figure.

5.  Hydrate.  I’m the queen of hydration when I’m sick.  I’m so water-logged I might even float away.  I drink endless cups of tea (my favorite brand is The Republic of Tea) and when my throat is really sore, I add a little lemon juice to my water.

My son had a cold last week, and my daughter and I are in the beginning throes of it.  With any luck, it’ll be short-lived and we can go on with our lives within a few days.  In the meantime, we’ll be in bed by 7:00 and asleep by 7:30.  I believe in only being conscious for the good parts, which means that I would very much like to be UN-conscious for any and all illnesses, including my own.

Tomorrow’s temps are supposed to be in the teens, with a 10-15 degree wind chill factor. With that nugget of knowledge I decided to do a long run while I still could; tomorrow I’ll be at the YMCA, exercising indoors and trying not to die of boredom.

I waved goodbye to the kids as they ran for their carpool. School is (finally) back in session after a two and a half week Winter Break, made even longer at my house because Connor was out sick the entire week before that. Three and a half weeks of having noisy short people around all the time is a lot, especially when I’m used to having uninterrupted hours of complete silence in which to work. But, I digress.

By 8:15 I was out the door with Kirby. We did a slow loop up the Greenbelt to the pond, then came back home again. This is a mile loop at best, just long enough for her to get in 4-5 pee breaks and a load drop. I dropped her back at the house, stopped for a nose blow, and headed out again with my Garmin. The plan was to go up to Davidson Mesa, loop around, and come home again. This loop can take anywhere from 7-10 miles, depending on the paths leading up to and back from the Mesa. I figured I’d head up and see how the weather was. At the very least, I was going to do 7 miles. After that, it was up in the air.

There’s still a lot of ice on the sidewalks. It hasn’t snowed in a few weeks, but the temps have stayed pretty low and there hasn’t been much melt. Last week I got so cranked at the pool of ice and water in the intersection near our house that I took the kids and a bunch of spades and shovels down there to break apart the three-inch deep sheet of ice and get the water moving. One guy in a truck stopped to thank us, a few other cars looked at us with pleasant expressions on their faces, and the rest just waited for us to get out of the road. Where’s the community spirit of helping your fellow neighbor? Of making the streets and sidewalks passable for ALL community members? How about the elderly people that live just up the block that walk the paths and sidewalks around town? They’re stuck in their little 600 Square Foot apartments in weather like this. The guy in the truck complained about the lack of city services to clear the roads (can you say ‘budget cuts’, anyone?), but he didn’t come down to help break ice either. Again, I digress.

Where was I? Right, the ice on the sidewalks. I did a lot of dancing around the ice, moving from one part of the sidewalk to the other. I fell last April on a patch of ice and chipped my elbow. Really not interested in doing that again, so in my advanced age with this tidbit of information, I’m more cautious.

I got on to the Mesa and fervently wished for my sunglasses. Not that it was sunny, because it wasn’t, but because the sunglasses would have given the snow/ice more definition. It would have been easier to see the patches of ice if the entire world wasn’t totally white. It’s been cloudy and cold all day, with fine little pebbles of snow falling. Once I was on the Mesa the wind picked up a little. There was not another soul up there. Maybe I was the stupid one.

Things were fine while I was heading west, but as soon as the trail turned east the wind blew into my face and took any shred of body heat I had cultivated thus far. I checked my Garmin; I had run 5.5 miles so far and had another 1.5 on the Mesa. I turned up the music, kept my eyes on the ground so they wouldn’t tear up in the wind, and went right on truckin’. I couldn’t go any faster (for safety’s sake) so I tuned out the wind and tried to forget how cold I was getting. I knew I had to get off the Mesa quick though, so I took the fork that would cut the 3-mile loop into about 2.75 miles. Not a big difference, but I was feeling like every minute counted.

Once I was off the snow-packed trail I picked up a little speed, especially since I was heading downhill and the wind died down a little. I decided to keep the run at the short distance and headed home along Via Appia instead of running the extra 1.5 miles along the greenbelt paths. With the mile that I did with Kirby, and the miles on the Mesa, this morning’s run would end up being almost exactly 9 miles. Not bad for a cold, crappy morning in January.

I have one word that brilliantly sums up today’s run on the Coal Creek Trail: COLD.  It was Cold.  Bun-numbing, finger-numbing, bone-chilling cold.  I was severely under-dressed for the 10 degree run (running tights, wicking shirt with fleece lining and an outer jacket that doesn’t have any warmth to it, as well as my new gloves with a wind guard mitten-thingie and SmartWool hat) and never broke a sweat.  My fingers stayed cold the entire time, as did my butt and legs.  For some reason my feet didn’t freeze even though we were running on snow.

We all had YakTrax on our feet, except for Marcia who has these nifty screw-shoes.  The YakTrax were great on the packed snow and gave us some added security, especially through the underpasses that have a nice layer of thick ice.

There wasn’t much talking on the run because of frozen face muscles.  The first two people to the turn-around kept moving, so our group was split a little more than normal.  I snapped a photo of Sarah at this point; she was standing directly in front of me, blocking the sun.  Note the glow around her head and the ice frosting!

I didn’t finish the run with the ladies because I took a short-cut that lead me directly home.  I didn’t want to finish with the group and then have another mile to go.  After five miles I had had it, and wished desperately for my cell phone.  If it was with me, I would have called Bill and had him come pick me up, just to get out of the cold. 

About 30 minutes after getting into the warmth of the house my legs were alternating between hot and cold pricks of fire.  I finallycouldn’t stand it anymore and  jumped into a hot bath to warm up my legs.  About an hour later I got super tired, so took a nap.  I know all this is a direct reaction to being so super-cold; my body was expending a ton of energy trying to keep warm, which is why once I was finally at a “normal” temperature, I had to shut down and recouperate the energy loss. 

Now, it’s 12:30 pm and I feel like I’ve wasted a full half-day.  I’m planning on taking the kids bowling this afternoon, then it’s home for a family dinner and probably some board games (Blokus anyone?) to celebrate the last day of the year.

Happy New Year, everyone, and I’ll see you all tomorrow!!

Connor’s had a cold for the past 9 days.  It started with an asthmatic cough last Friday? Saturday? (I don’t even remember anymore) where he couldn’t get his breath.  He’s been on the nebulizer every 4 hours (Albuterol), and taking Pulmicort every 12 hours.  This treatment is working, marginally, to loosen his lungs so that the incessant cough becomes slightly productive.  However, either Bill or I have been up with him twice a night for the past week, giving him treatments, propping him up in bed, and otherwise trying to get his body to quiet down.

With great hopes, I planned to run on Saturday with my Saturday Morning running group.  I’ve been home with a sick child for 5 days straight during the Christmas season, which means all my shopping and wild madness has come to a complete standstill.  I haven’t seen an adult in days and desperately needed the exercise, routine, and friendship a running group provides.

Sadly, Saturday morning was just like the other mornings.  I dressed in my running clothes only to hear the beginning strains of a coughing fit, signaling that sleep was over.  Since I was already up, I didn’t feel like I could ignore the needs of my child, run out the door, and force Bill to get up and give Connor the breathing treatments.  With a big sigh I embraced my parenthood and took care of my sick boy.  With a little (secret) sigh of relief, I realized I didn’t have to go running on Whiterock Trail in 20 degree weather with a sore throat (thanks Connor).  I curled up with him in his bed, pulled the comforter around my shoulders, and drifted in and out of sleep to the hum of the nebulizer.  My tiredness was apparent even to me, and the secret sigh of relief I felt at not running in 20 degree weather got a little bigger when I realized that I had no energy to run, at all.

I hoped all through the morning that timing would work out so I could sneak out for even a quick 5K in the sunny 45-degree afternoon.  After Sophie and I got home from her Championship basketball game (her team won) and Bill and Connor returned from the Doctor’s office, the kids got involved with their parallel activities, Connor started coughing again, lunch had to be made, Bill went to Costco to pick up prescriptions and the last of the stocking stuffers and I… started losing my mind.  Cabin fever hit me like Dorothy’s house in the Wizard of Oz.  Sophie’s  pecking at Connor was hen-nish, and I embraced my parenthood once again.  Bill returned home, I packed Sophie into the car and left for a flurry or errands, any errand I could think of was fair game.  Just…to…get…out…of…the…house.

So.  No running yesterday, unless you count the mental laps.

By 8 PM Connor was finally, blissfully, asleep.  I crawled into my bed next to a very sad little 10-year-old who is jealous of the attention Sick Boy is receiving from Mommy.  She cuddled right up next to me, and we both let sleep take us to the magical place we only dream of during the day.

The big news is that HE SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT!!!!  It was 5:56 when the coughing started, which is 15 minutes shy of a full 10 hours of deep, restful sleep.  I feel pretty darn good this morning, and am watching the colors in the sunrise deepen as I type.  It’s 28 degrees this fine morning, which is a VAST improvement from yesterday’s 20 degrees.  The neb treatments have been completed, medicine has been administered, Bill is up making coffee and I am READY to RUN.  Woo-hoo!!