Feeling iffy about Cliffy.

I have mixed feelings about Clif bars.


On one hand, they seem to be the only food I can consume immediately after a long run that doesn't make me sick to my stomach--and they also help keep my hunger in check the rest of the day. Believe me, I've experimented with everything else, from a modest packet of apple slices to a fluffy pile of pumpkin pancakes.

What I've found is: eating less than a 250 calorie Clif bar ultimately results in dizzying, staggering hunger several hours later (the kind where you could eat an entire pizza and still want more); much more calories than a Clif, though, and I can't even tell you the bathroom misery I experience. (I will never eat pumpkin pancakes again!)

So I'm grateful to Clif for settling my stomach and preventing me from becoming one of those rare, legendary but not mythical "fat" marathon runners.

But taste-wise, Clif, my man, the thrill is gone.

Eating a Clif bar once a week is actually starting to remind me of my fling with Slimfast shakes in the summer of 2003, when I was trying to lose brand-new-baby weight fast enough to wear a size 6 dress to a cousin's wedding. (In case you're wondering, it worked, but to this day just seeing a Slimfast commercial makes me throw up a little bit in my mouth.)

At first I thought the Clif bars were yummy, just like I remember thinking, "Mmmm, chocolate milkshakes!" But now I'm beyond bored. I have a Clif bar aversion. I'd like to throw my stash of them off a cliff, if truth be told.  Bring on the real food, please! Something that doesn't vaguely remind me of carrot cake, without actually being carrot cake. Something that isn't inspired by a peanut butter chocolate chip cookie, without actually being a peanut butter chocolate chip cookie.

So help me out, please. Tell me, what can I eat that won't make me sick? That's in the 250ish calorie range and has the same balance of carbs and protein that Clif has?

I'm going to assume real carrot cake and chocolate chip cookies are not options because of the fat and lack of protein, but if the recovery grub could be tasty enough that I actually look forward to eating it after a run, that would be a plus.

14 Thoughts on Having Run 14 Miles

1. I did it! I ran 14 miles!!

2. Whoahhhhh, we’re (more than) halfway there….whooo-ohhhh, running on a prayer… (Come on, you knew that was coming!)

3. I have ignored the expert’s advice by flying through the first 11 miles and limping like a one-legged dog through the last three—but HEY, experts, get this: I RAN 14 MILES!

4. Advil and Immodium AD are a long-distance runner’s wonder drugs.

5. The best part of my run was that aside from the last half hour, I was really, really enjoying myself. Big smile on my face (till it turned into a grimace.)

6. The worst part of my run was not the last half hour but the hour after I stopped running, which would have been even worse without the aforementioned runner’s wonder drugs.

7. I know “real” runners don’t like to listen to music while running—they all say that during their “Runner’s World” interviews—but I really want to know how they get through several hours of running with no iTunes. (I give “Right Said Fred” partial credit for my 14 miles—how can you not run gleefully while listening to “I’m Too Sexy”?)

8. Hey Fred, I’m also too sexy for my shirt. (It’s all mildewed and frayed and no amount of OxyClean will remove the stench. Time to hit the Nike outlet.)

9. Two hours, 9 minutes is a pretty good time for a novice runner to run 14 miles.

10. Two hours, 9 minutes is a really long time to spend holding an insulated water bottle.

11. Two hours, 9 minutes is a really long time for me to spend without stopping to use the bathroom.

12. I refuse to pee in a bush. No offense real runners who happily pee in bushes while not listening to iTunes. I’d rather get a UTI from holding it in because I'm too sexy to pee on shrubbery.

13. My first-ever half marathon next Sunday will be .9 miles shorter than what I ran on Saturday.

14. Why do I have a feeling that 13.1 miles in a race setting will be a lot harder than 14 miles on familiar territory?

Frightening Fourteen.

I know what you're thinking. A chick who signs up to run a marathon, which is 26.2 miles, really shouldn't be reduced to a quivering puddle of Jell-O every time her Team in Training coach ups the ante on her training schedule.  If you're in it for the full 26, you need to be prepared to do more than, you know, twenty minutes of cardio in preparation.

But did I mention that this Saturday, I am supposed to be running 14 miles?

Which seems infininitely larger than the 12 miles I completely two weeks ago.

It even seems bigger to me than the 13.1 miles I'm signed up to run in a week from now, when I do the Ft. Lauderdale AIA.

This is probably the point in training when a lot of people change their minds about doing the full marathon and switch to the half.

I haven't had any trouble so far ramping up my mileage...but I also haven't done 14 yet.

I guess I'll just have to see how it goes. I have a feeling that the less I think about the number 14, the easier it will be.

Sometimes you have to just close your eyes, hold your breath and jump in.

So Saturday morning at 5:15, I'll be jumping.

Flat-footed. And fat-footed.

An update on my feet, after trying on just about every size 9 shoe in Target today.

They have not grown any bigger. They are just a lot fatter.

Seeing my feet in size 9s reminded my of my almost-four-year-old daughter stomping around the house in my favorite peep-toe pumps (which no longer fit me); there was a good half inch of negative space between my heel and the back of the shoe. But my feet have become so wide that even in a 9W, it was a tight squeeze, especially in the toe area. These little piggies have gottena  little piggish.

So now I don't get to to go shopping for the discounted "big girl" 9s at DSW. If I want new kicks, I'm going to have to find special double-wide 8s at the double-wide shoe store, wherever in South Florida that might be.

In the meantime, it looks like I'm confined to my running sneaks and flip-flops, and one pair of slightly less beachy sandals I can wear to work.

It's a good thing it's still in the 80s down here and I can get away with such casual accessorizing. Just think of wearing boots makes my feet tingle...and not in a good way.

Shouldn't 9 miles be "easy" by this point?

Because I wouldn't call my "taper" run today with Team in Training easy. Nine miles still feels like nine miles: a long, challenging run.

I remember the first time I ran 9 miles. I was wiped out for three days straight. But I've come a long way since then--last week I had a triumphant 12 miler--and mistakenly believed I could just whip out 9 miles like it was nothing.

It went the way all of my long runs have gone. The first three were easy, the middle three were tiring, then I got a second wind and coasted home the rest of the way. But 7-8 miles into the run, I really wanted to know, "Are we there yet?" And I wasn't.

I have fantasies, of course, that 9 miles will feel like "nothing" when I'm running the marathon. I've got three months till the ING...maybe there's hope for me yet.

My pre-run ritual

As my weekday training runs get longer and longer, I have to wake up earlier and earlier these days. But more mileage is only part of the reason why I'm setting my iPhone to strum a good morning song at 5:35 a.m.

The other reason is my pre-run ritual has gotten more and more complicated. I used to just lace up and go. Now, this is my process.

1. Wake up and turn off alarm before husband wakes up.
2. Gather up workout clothes, set aside from the night before, and go into bathroom.
3. Brush teeth, take vitamins, Advil and allergy meds (all necessary for a run these days).
4. Dampen strap from heart rate monitor with warm water.
5. Put on heart rate monitor chest strap and watch and test twice to make sure it's picking up on my frequencies.
6. Put on sports bra, tank top and running skirt or leggings.
7. Strategically place safety lights on front and back of body.
8. Sit on the floor on a towel and apply baby powder to feet to prevent blisters.
9. Put on Nike Dri Fit socks, making sure left sock goes on left foot; right sock on right foot.
10. Put on sneakers; check lace tightness.
11. Make sure iPod "On the Go" playlist is acceptable.
12. Turn off Wi-Fi so that RunKeeper GPS program can work.
13. Put iPod in arm holster and plug in earphones.
14. Go outside and stretch.
15. Turn on safety lights.
16. Hit "Shuffle" on iPod.
17. Turn on RunKeeper.
18. Run.

The strange thing is, I really look forward to my pre-run ritual. It is a lot of work, but it also kind of reminds me of getting ready for a black tie affair; the preparation is part of the fun. There's no open bar to look forward to, of course, but when no one's looking, sometimes I do a little jig as I'm running, like I'm out there twirling around in taffeta on a dance floor...

I Know Where You Ran Last Summer

Dear City of Weston:

I realize times are tight and the “Halloween decorations” line in the city budget probably got slashed, but I think we’re all OK without the paper orange pumpkins. Your creative alternative of removing the light bulbs in most of the streetlamps, in an attempt to “spook-ify” the streets for anyone who might be on them before dawn, might have been taking the scary Halloween spirit just a little too far.

Though I must say, if scary was what you were going for, you hit a home run.

This morning, I was running in almost complete darkness as the deceased Michael Hutchence of ‘80s band INXS fame cackled “The Devil Inside” on my iPod, when I collided mouth-first with a giant spider web. And I screamed. A long, shrill, harrowing scream that surely frightened the other people out on the trails. (There you go, Weston: free Halloween sound effects.)

Picking the spindly strings out of my mouth, I began to wonder of the direction of my life had been taken over by some Alfred Hitchcock wanna-be.

This wasn’t the first time this week I felt this way. In fact on Sunday, during my long run, I realized I could very well be smack in the middle of a classic Halloween slasher flick. It was just me and my beautiful Team in Training running mentor, our long dark ponytails blowing in the wind. So there we were, two young(ish) women stranded alone in pitch blackness, with just small red blinking lights stuck onto our clothes for vision. It was a good two mile stretch on Bonaventure, between Royal Palm and South Post, without a single functioning street lamp. As we ran past dead animals (is there anything more chilling than tripping over a dead possum?) with spider webs caught in our hair, the timing was perfect for some bloodshot-eyed zombie to come out from the middle of nowhere and suck our blood, dismember us or do whatever else the scary bad guys do in these movies. (I’ve never actually seen one of these gory scenes; this is usually the part when I hide my face in my hands or decide I really need to leave the theater and use the bathroom.)

If you, too, would like to be able to come up with plots to trashy horror “B” movies, there’s nothing like being alone with your thoughts for a good few hours to get the creative juices flowing. Or the blood flowing, depending on how you look at it.

I’m not holding my breath for the City of Weston to fix the streetlamp problem. I actually called them, twice, and they said it was the power company’s fault, but Florida Light and Power said it was Weston’s fault, so I don’t see this issue being resolved any time soon.

I do see Daylights Savings on the horizon, though—so my long run this Saturday, which is Halloween, might be my last scary run…till next fall.

Happy Halloween.