Ummm... Whoops?

So I haven't done this in a while.

UPDATES SINCE JUNE!

• I am happily in training for Little Rock Marathon next March!!! I ran a lovely, quaint, rather easy 8 miler yesterday (no big deal) and despite some fuel issues (namely the fact that I completely forgot Gu/fruit strips/anything of the sort at all) and a sore butt today (we ran up Kavanaugh, AKA the Hill O' Death), it went amazingly! I feel more prepared for Soaring Wings on the 29th of next month than I ever did for Nashville, probably because I'm actually training now, rather than just building a fitness base. 
• I'm an obnoxiously proud New Member of the Epsilon Xi chapter of Delta Zeta!! I'm so amazingly blessed to have been invited to become a part of one of the most amazing groups of women I've ever met. 
• I'm teaching a Latin/Hip-Hop fusion class at UCA! Awesome because I'm also AFAA Group Ex Certified and that makes me legit (too legit to quit).
• Total weight loss: 60 pounds. I tried lifting a 60 pound dumbbell at the gym the other day and I looked like a moron. Then some guy walked up, grabbed both and did bicep curls. Whatevs. I'd also like to note that 60 pounds is the size of one of my little brothers. Or 240 sticks of butter (ewwwwww). Or three tires. Or 12 chihuahuas. Or Kate Moss. Long story short, it's a lot.
• New goal: Branson Ironman 70.3 next September. That's a 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike ride, and a 13.1 mile run. I figure after Little Rock plus a month or two of active recovery I'll be in good enough shape to maintain and then train for this. 
• Long-term goal: I WILL be an Ironman. Maybe not for 5 years, maybe not for 10, but one day I will conquer the 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike ride, and 26.2 mile run. It's gonna happen. Until then, this is what I look at every time I look at my phone...

795.5 Miles.

So yeah, I've got my running schedule planned out from this Sunday until the Little Rock Marathon next March. That 10th anniversary medal better be frickin' ginormous.

Because I know myself and I know how much running can suck sometimes if you're REAAAAALLLLY not feeling it (not a "ew I'd rather not run today" but an "I would rather use a toenail to give myself brain surgery and temporarily disable my legs than run" day. those happen. occasionally) I've built in enough time that missing a run (or two or three, since I usually get a lovely illness in late-fall/early-winter) won't be a problem at all. In 8 months, I'll have (hopefully, please dear God let me have) conquered my first (and perhaps only) 26.2. And I'll have the baddest-ass sticker on the back of my car to prove it. 

Cross-training will be used 1-2 days a week, and may be used to substitute for runs in the event of emergency. Sprinkle copious amounts of yoga and a dash of Zumba and you've got a winning recipe.

I believe the week of March 11th looks fantastic. If it's on the schedule, you have to do it!

Let's See How Far We've Come...

This is the picture on my license that was taken on my

 birthday in 2010... 16 months later, I'm down 50 

pounds, 5-6 pants sizes (depending on the store), I 

have a half-marathon under my belt, and I'm planning

 to run a full marathon and complete a half Ironman. 

I will NEVER go back.

Oh Hey...

I'm now a MEDIUM at Banana Republic and a size 8 at J. Crew. 

Hell. Freaking. Yes.

I would also like to acknowledge that I suck at this.

Sorry. 

Between finals, life, moving into my apartment(!!!!!!), and working (like a grown-up), I just haven't found time.

I would like to take this time to post what I had in a draft the day after I (ahem)...

 RAN A HALF-MARATHON!!!!!

Saturday was, by far, one of the most exciting, thrilling, terrifying, exhilarating, and completely exhausting days of my life. Sara Ann, Dad, and I were lucky enough to get a room in the hotel directly across the street from the start line, so Friday was spent going about our normal routines while pausing periodically to glance over at what would become the gathering point for one of the largest crowds I've ever seen. After a good night's rest, we woke at 5AM (ew) to go grab a bagel (which was nowhere near enough food, but oh well... you live and you learn), take the monstrous dose of Tylenol and Advil the nice doctor at OrthoArkansas told me to take so that I wouldn't be able to feel my bruised kneecap when it got mad, and try not to completely spazz out. At 6:45AM, we dropped our "swag bags" off with the handy UPS people and moved merrily/spastically along to the corrals... Merrily was Sara Ann, spastically was me.
CORRAL TIME:  At this point, it was abundantly clear that this was indeed my first time at the rodeo. I was freaking out as literally every possible scenario played through my mind of what could go wrong. Being trampled, hyperventilating, heat exhaustion, lightning strikes (it was sunny, mind you), re-spraining my ankle, tripping and looking like a complete moron, running and looking like a complete moron, and anything else that you could possibly imagine going wrong was shooting through my head faster than a Kenyan. (Sara Ann was wearing a shirt that read "In my dreams I'm a Kenyan... Very appropriate.) Cue more nervous twitching on my part and a separation of Sara Ann and I. (She was about 6 corrals behind me for some reason that I do not know.)

STARTING LINE!!!: It took about 30 minutes for me to get from my corral (ahem, 26) to the start line. Every step I took I was more and more scared. The same fears (see: Corral Time) were shooting through my mind. I made small talk with some girls around me, 'cause that's what I do, and put my game face on. When I actually got to the start line and finally got to the start, I was in the zone, and I was going.

MILES 1-5: I was going strong for the first few miles, and it was glorious. I found my pacer dude and was going strong with him until I realized A) the course map lied and B) I was spawning the blisters of the century. The course map said that there was the "big hill" around mile marker 3, and the rest was relatively flat. Well, my friends, that was bullshit. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down. The hilliest run of my life. It was also the hottest run of my life, and I adapted a very advanced method for cooling and hydration. At water stops, one cup went to the mouth, one went to the head. That worked well until I put my phone in my sports bra for safe keeping and then poured water on my head. Cue the spastic cleaning of the phone. I was gonna choke down a GU but it fell out of my belt, so I nommed down on some delicious, yet ridiculous to chew SportBeans. Sara Ann also caught up to me around mile 5, which was a good thing since she was running with partially healed shin splints and, in the off chance she should need to stop, I would know when I passed her. 

MILES 6-10: The extent to which the bastards lied about hills was completely evident here. I took some GU Chomps at about mile 6 and they were surprisingly delicious, considering the fact that GU itself makes me want to vomit. Continue running. I saw Dad, and that was a nice little morale boost. Keep on running. Cue "'Till I Collapse". Cue "Heart of A Champion". Cue "Bring It All Back" by S Club 7. I was chugging. I also took a course-provided GU at mile 10.4. So gracious of them to offer GU THREE MILES AWAY FROM THE FINISH. It would have been better used around, oh I don't know, mile 5?

MILES 11-13: We went down and up some more, and the hill to end all hills was from about 11.5 to 13. It sucked. It sucked bad. EVERYONE was walking. EVERYONE. Some volunteers hollered "ONCE YOU GET TO THE BRIDGE IT'S ALL DOWNHILL!!" I made it to the bridge. That was the most beautiful bridge I've ever seen in my entire life. 

MILE 13.1... AKA THE FINISH!!!!!!: I freaking sprinted the entire way from the bridge to the finish line. As soon as I saw it, I started crying. All the miles I've run, all the hard work, all the pain, all the blisters were worth it. I saw my dad after the finish line and broke down. After I composed myself, I got my picture made, got some food, found Sara Ann, and we hopped our exhausted asses on the bus (that got lost) and went back to the hotel.

BACK AT THE HOTEL: We hobbled up to the room, where we changed out of our DISGUSTING clothes and our appetites came in full force. We hopped over to PF Chang's and I devoured an ENTIRE Beef with Broccoli entree. It was delicious. I enjoyed every single bite. I then slept halfway coming home. Life was grand. 

THE FOLLOWING WEEK: I couldn't walk normally. I was sore, achy, hurting, but I relished in every single second of it. I've never felt more badass in my entire life. Will I keep running? Hell yes. Will I keep running the half-marathon? I LOVED the distance. Will I try a full marathon? One. Just once, just for the sticker on the back of my car. 

SOME SNAPSHOTS:

SHIRT: If found on ground, please drag across finish line! HEADBAND: Dear God, PLEASE let there be someone behind me to read this!

Pre-race icing!

For Maw-Maw and Pop-Pop!!!

SO LEGIT!

This now has a home on my rear windshield.

WHISKEY IS NOT OKAY!

START LINE!! MY CORRAL WAS NEXT!

Right foot, arch of foot.

Left foot, inner ankle.

WE DID IT!!!

I'm a badass.

ICE BATH. Whoo-hoo.

My fortune cookie from PF Chang's... SO true!

WE ROCK!! And were extremely sore!

The Two-Part Long Run

A fellow (probably more legitimate, and slightly more serious) runner whom I follow on Twitter (you can hit Scott from iRunnerBlog up here) introduced me to the idea of the short long run. Long story short, you take the distance you're to run that day, divide that distance by two, and run twice in a 24 hour period. So yesterday, instead of running ten miles at once, I split it up into two five-milers and ran twice. I feel that a pro/con list is the best for this situation. I love pro/con lists, and I especially love t-charts, but they're complicated to do in this posting thingy, so list it is.

PROS:

• It made dreadmill running far more bearable.
• I will say, dreadmills have an advantage over outdoor running in that I can mimic the elevation of the course with the push of a button and run something as similar to the course as I can get without being there.
• And there are TV's on every dreadmill. The Real Housewives kept me company yesterday.
• And I can keep my water, gatorade, fruit strips, and an actual bathroom nearby at all times.
• This needs no further explanation.
• The little twinge thing behind my knee didn't bother me at all. 
• I like anything involved with running that doesn't cause me pain.
• Being able to refuel properly between runs really made the last half easier for my body to handle. I've been having problems with having enough energy to finish strong recently, but yesterday wasn't a problem. 
• I've also got my run-walk-run ratio down properly.
• Wahoo!
• I went to the gym twice yesterday. It made me feel like a BAMF.

CONS:

• The blisters that developed in my first run made the second unbearably painful. I made it through two miles of the second and then hopped on the elliptical, cranked the incline/height up to 20 and the resistance up to 10, and finished the last three looking like a freaking ninja. People were looking at me like I was crazy, but honestly, even then I wasn't out of breath or sweating very much. It made me feel really conditioned, and for the first time in a while I felt in shape. It felt nice.
• The maximum for both is 20.
• I wore bad socks, so the blisters were totally my fault. Still though. It SUCKED.
• I'm not one to complain about pain, but I'll complain about blisters.
• I tried molefoam and band-aid blister protection things, but they slipped off... Any suggestions?
• Yeah, that was the only con.

So basically, I'm gonna be using this two-part method for the one long run I have left before my half and for all of the long runs I can for my full. Less exciting is the fact that my long runs for my full will be divided up into two parts that are each as long as two of my shorter long runs. But I can, I will, I am able.... I think.

Wow, I haven't done this in a while...

Real life has gotten in the way of my blogging. Lo siento, you guys. 

IN THE PAST MONTH....

• Total weight lost: Almost 40 pounds. 40. Freaking. Pounds. That's the size of a small kindergartner. No big deal or anything.

• Total inches lost: 26.5 inches. And I only started measuring 17 pounds ago. I've lost over 25 inches in 17 pounds and I've lost almost 40 pounds total. Yeah. I'm not even gonna try to do that math.

• Current pant size: 12. I bought like five pairs of real shorts (AKA not Nike shorts... I now own 9 pairs of those. I live in them) over Spring Break, and two pairs now need belts to not fall down. I was at least a size 18 when I started, maybe bigger. (The head in the sand approach was used.) That means I'm down at least three pant sizes. Hell to the yes. 

• Current length of long runs: 12 miles. In a row. Lately my body's been dragging so I'm upping my carb intake. I love carbs. Sara Ann and I may or may not have eaten macaroni and cheese for dinner last night. It may or may not have been delicious. (HINT: We did and it was.) 

• Piece of bad news: Injuries. Sara Ann's been out for a few weeks with stress fractures in her shins and I've messed up something teensy behind my left knee. It usually isn't a big deal, but towards the end of my longer runs, it starts hurting. Monday, it started acting up really badly and the pain started moving up my thigh at about mile three... I think I just strained something, but I'm just gonna buck up/take Advil/permanently affix an ice pack to my knee until the half. Speaking of which...

• I run the Nashville Country Music Half Marathon in 17 days. 17. Freaking. Days. Ahhh!!! Towards the beginning of this shindig, I really didn't think a half was a big deal... I mean, come on! It's ONLY 13.1 miles... HA. The one thing I've learned recently is to respect the distance. I honestly didn't. I didn't think a half was that big of a deal, but now, with every run, and every twinge of pain, and every damn walking break I take, I wonder if I'm really ready for this. Which brings me to this...

• Despite the fact that I will be finishing and I would love to do so in under 2 1/2 hours... I just don't think I'm gonna do it that quickly. I've been running for four months, and my body's just not conditioned well enough to sustain running 13.1 miles. When I started, I asked a professor at Hendrix who has run more marathons than can possibly be normal whether this was feasible. His first words were, "well you're gonna be running a lot, but you're gonna be walking a lot too." I didn't really believe him until I got to about mile 6 of my first 10 miler. I'm learning to respect my body and its efforts a lot more... I'm doing something in four months that takes most people years. Yes, I'm crazy for going for a half so soon. Yes, it's gonna take a while. But you're out of your mind if you think I'm not gonna give it my everything. And while we're on this topic...

• I'm also postponing my first 26.2 for this same reason. I don't think that next January is enough time for 26.2. I would be starting training in July, and that's only two months between my half and the start of training to build up endurance I need to be able to last through 16, 18, 20, 22 mile training runs (my legs started aching just thinking about that).  Instead, I'm gonna run the Little Rock Marathon next March. Two more months may not sound like a lot, but it'll give me a little more time and a decent little break for my body and the stress i'm putting it under. Also, Hendrix was going to be paying for my trip to WDW... And I'm not coming back to Hendrix in the Fall. Not because of grades or anything... It's just not for me.

• I think that's it? PS: new pic of Sara Ann and I. I already want to be back on the beach.

Oh I have lots to catch y'all up on...

Just got back from the beach.

I'm about to run my first 8-miler.

I'll give y'all the play-by-play later on.

PS: About halfway through my run is a hill that includes a 400 foot elevation change. I'll save you the math-- about 40 stories. Yeah, it's freaking huge.

Eek!!

MINI-UPDATE

I've run over 100 miles since I started this journey. 

100 miles.

That's a long freaking way.

But I ain't nowhere near finished.

Here's one of my "oh hell yeah I'm a running beast" songs. It gets me pretty pumped/makes me feel super badass.

Makes you wanna get up and go, doesn't it?

Little Rock 5k... CHECK!

While my lovely little Saturday morning jog wasn't exactly as speedy as I would have liked (40:33), it was by far my best run. While I would love to share every little step along the way, I shall (in the fashion of my last 5k recap) provide my highlights in the ever-fabulous bulleted list.

• I ran every single inch. Yeah, I don't think this needs much elaboration. The excitement of this went away, though, when I realized that my run-walk-run (thanks, Jeff Galloway!!) ratio was gonna include about three miles of running to about a quarter- to a half-mile of walking. And it's gonna happen about four cycles worth for the half. Whoop. Whoop.

• Those damn hills didn't stop me!! While Conway is a quaint little town with many positive attributes, it's probably the worst place in Arkansas for running. You get handy little downtown, with all its stoplights and crosswalk zones where you get interrupted/try to save yourself from psycho drivers who can't seem to pay attention to anything other than themselves/their phones/their kids; then you factor in the complete absence of sidewalks; and, oh yeah, the fact that there is no elevation change whatsoever. So when I realized that there were hills-a-plenty (which happened as I was running up the damn hills), I was a little freaked, but they didn't stop me!! They've definitely made me move slower since Saturday, though, because apparently butt muscles are activated 100000x more running uphill than on level ground. They've been protesting.

• I maintained a steady pace throughout, hills and all. All three miles were run at a fairly steady pace, which is currently unknown thanks to a discrepancy in my Nike+ and official time/distance/pace. I do know, however, that my fastest mile (by about ten seconds) was pretty much straight uphill. Maybe I just really wanted to get it over with?? I'll know a better guesstimate of my actual pace soon, because I'm getting a handy running waist-pack (AKA fanny pack), and I'll be able to loop my big Forerunner on that, instead of my wrist.

I'm really proud of this run, and I'm so looking forward to exiting the "fun run" category and entering the  longer runs. My ever-eloquent dad said "you have to walk before you can run.... or run before you can run? Whatever, I'm proud of you." I even got him to commit to running the Disney World 5k the Friday before the marathon! Oh, and Sara Ann and I are submitting our Odyssey Funding Proposal soon... Wish us luck!!!

Hi, my name is Savanna and I look about twelve.
Whatevs, it's Medal #1!

My dad said I'm "slackn on the blog"

And he's right. But, hey, I'm doing better than Sara Ann!! (Sorry, doll!)

This past week has been one filled with injury and triumph.

(That sounds so epic!) 

On Thursday afternoon, after a wonderful run, I was walking down the stairs, stepped wrong, and sprained the bejeezus out of my ankle, as you can see. I don't mind pain, I really don't. I was honestly more pissed off than anything because I knew I was going to be out for a while. I only missed Saturday's, Monday's, and Tuesday's runs, but still. I was most definitely freaked out at all of the websites that said that these damn things can take months to heal... I don't have time for that. I am freakin' ecstatic to report that, with the help of my new best friend (AKA my handy-dandy ankle brace) I've managed two four-milers this week!!!!

Yesterday's run was great for the first 1.7 miles... I honestly don't know what happened for the next half a mile. It was horrible, it was slow, it was getting dark, and I was having trouble finding the motivation to keep picking my feet up. At mile 2.2, I paused my Nike+, sat down, and had a little heart-to-heart with myself. I said, "Self, you are over a mile away from school, it's getting dark, it's getting sketch. You need to get your ass up, get focused, and finish this damn thing."I sat there for a couple of breaths, picked my ass up, and finished the last 1.8 miles at an 11 minute mile pace. That may not seem expeditious, but I'm kinda slow, so that was a nice little personal (removal of head from ass) triumph. And I'm quite proud of that. 

Tomorrow's run is supposed to be a five-miler- the first, mind you- but I registered for the Little Rock Marathon 5k, so the five-miler's gonna have to wait until Monday. I'm honestly more comfortable with that, because it gives my body a little longer to fix my ankle before I piss it off too badly... I hope I'm not getting too ambitious with this, given my ankle situation, but I'd like to finish the 5k in 37 minutes... I'll let you know how it goes!!!

Swollen and bruised. Cute, isn't it?

PS: Better, Daddy?

Who is this for, exactly?

(I'm a bad blogger, I know. School's getting crazy, our mileage is increasing... But I will do better, I promise!)

So here I am, in my standard uniform of Nike Tempo shorts and high-school era t-shirts because, well, nothing fits me! It's a wonderful, fantastic, amazing problem to have, don't get me wrong, but it's still kind of a problem. My jeans fall down, my dresses are all too big, my t-shirts are baggy as all get out, my yoga pants won't stay up, and I put my shorts on that I practically lived in last summer... They FELL off of me!! It feels so amazing and wonderful, except for a few teensy factors. 1) I'm having to do more laundry to keep the clothes that stay on me in decent condition. 2) I have to belt the hell out of my jeans to keep them up in my labs. 3) My sports bras are included in this... I don't think I need to say anything else on that topic. I'm holding off on buying new clothes until closer to spring break, so that I'll get more use out of them before I go down to the next size (!!!!!!!!!!!!), but new sports bras are in my VERY near future.

Okay, back on topic. So I'm sitting here watching "I Used to Be Fat" on MTV as a study break, and a girl who lost her father to cancer when she was six just said that she wants to run a half-marathon to honor his memory. That got me thinking... exactly who am I running these half marathons and full marathons for, anyway? I've pondered this before, but was never actually able to come up with a definitive answer... It could be for any of my family members who suffer from or have died from lung diseases, or it could be for a dead relative, or it could be for no reason at all. But tonight, it finally came to me.

This marathon, this experience, this hobby, whatever you want to call it, it's for me. It's because I deserve to live a healthier, more active life than I have been living. It's because my body can handle the challenge. It's because I enjoy breaking through barriers that I never knew I could. It's because I want to do this to prove to myself that I am mentally, physically, and emotionally tough enough to finish not only 26.2 miles, but the almost 1000 miles that it's gonna take me to get there. Hell, when I started this, I couldn't run a half mile. Saturday, I ran four miles. In a row. I keep amazing myself, and it feels so, so fantastic. (It could also be the endorphins, but we're gonna go with the inspirational option. Work with me here.)

What feels even more fantastic is when people tell me that what I do is not only impressing them, but inspiring them. This experience is becoming something more than me, and being able to inspire others to push harder, work harder, and be stronger definitely helps keep me going when my runs get tough. It's pretty freaking cool when people you don't really talk to or know all that well bring the training up. (Come talk to Sara Ann and I about it, please!) I'm gonna speak for both of us and say that we'll be more than happy to share some stories from the frontlines of battle, and we love to hear people say "hey, we saw you running!!" It makes us feel like badasses. And between the aches, pains, blisters, and chafing, we need a little boost in badassness.

K-Life 5k.... CHECK!

So on Saturday, Sara Ann ran our first training-affiliated 5k, and I wasn't last!! While I'm not completely dissatisfied with my 39 minute time, I most definitely could've done better. This 5k taught me exactly what not to do for future races. I shall now share these little pearls of wisdom with you, so that you can not look like a complete moron (because I'm pretty sure I did).

• DRESS APPROPRIATELY. While I am kind and considerate to those behind me and thus wore shorts that fulfilled their destiny and actually covered my ass, I was completely ignorant of the fact that it was almost 60 degrees out. This would normally be no big deal, except for the fact that I decided to change into my Under Armor Cold Gear because the run was at 5PM and I was just sure that it would be cool by then. I knew my choice to wear my ninja gear was a completely horrid one when I got a little warm just walking around. By the time I was actually moving, I felt like I'd just bathed in jalapeño juice and was seriously considering taking my beloved Under Armor off and running in my sports bra. There were lots of cops directing traffic, though, so I decided to just wear the damn shirt and keep chugging. By the time I was approaching the finish, approximately 99% of my fluids had decided to abandon ship through my pores because even they knew that I was a dumbass for wearing my Cold Gear. Sara Ann was waiting for me (because I'm pretty sure she runs about a two second mile) and after we grabbed some nomsies (whoever thought to bring Chick-Fil-A to the end of a running event is my new best friend) we headed back to my car. My car is a beautiful color called "salsa red". Coincidentally, my face was also salsa red. LESSON: Check the weather forecast, or better yet, go outside. You should be chilly before you get started. If not, you will be salsa red, like my car. Or these words. It will not be pleasant.

• EAT ENOUGH THE DAY OF.My newfound running abilities (meaning my ability to do it, albeit not necessarily quickly) have sent my metabolism through the roof. I eat quite a bit, but am still managing to lose weight, which is one of the more enjoyable parts of this experience. On Saturday, I ate a bowl of cereal before I taught my Zumba class, ate a chicken salad sandwich after Zumba, and didn't eat anything else for fear of revisiting it once I was running. Stupid, stupid, stupid decision. I'm really not sure how I finished in under 40 minutes, because between the lack of food and the excess of clothing, I was freaking dying. I walked more than I would have liked to (zero walking would have been lovely. I've done it before, dammit), which means I must have been beasting... That's the only logical explanation, of course. After the race I nabbed some nuggets and an apple and then ate (whole wheat) shells and (low-fat) cheese for dinner. Yummy. Had to make up for lost calories, you know. LESSON: The Chick-Fil-A cow would tell you to eat some more chicken, but chicken just doesn't cut it sometimes. I'm a meat and potatoes kind of girl, but I made this green so you'd be inclined to go eat some veggies. EAT YOUR VEGETABLES!!! (And if your metabolism is beasting, maybe a little dessert, too.)

• LOOK AT THE RACE COURSE. So while I was hungry, sweaty, and just be-bopping along, I kept looking to my Nike+ for exactly how much longer I had left. That was grand and dandy, until it stopped working at about 2.6 miles. I use the Nike+ App on my iPhone, because my SportBand broke and my Garmin had trouble syncing with the satellites or something like that; when I say it stopped working, not only did it throw a hissy fit, it took my iTunes down with it. After muttering a few choice words, I kept running because I could see where we started, and I assumed that after we entered the stadium area (it was at the high school) I'd be done. What no one told me was that the race course included a lap around the track... What the hell?? Anyone who knows me knows that I'm NOT okay with my course/plan being altered. I don't like it at all. If I know what's coming, I can manage, but two things I don't take well to are altering traditions and changing things last minute. Heebie jeebies ensue. LESSON: When there are course maps available, look at them. Just do it. People need mental preparedness in order to face horrible things. Tracks are horrible things. You don't believe me? Just keep reminding yourself that you have to run around the damn thing four times to log a mile. 

But, alas, I finished (with a salsa red and probably pissed off look on my face), nowhere near last, and in under 40 minutes. Savanna: 1, Running: 0.

Sara Ann (right) and I post-5k!

We Do It Hamster Style!!!

Sara Ann and I hopped up on the dreadmills and ran two miles, hamster style, tonight. Yeah that Snowmageddon v2.0 I mentioned? We're now bracing for Snowmageddon v3.0: Bigger, Badder, Awesomer. Whoo.

But, I ran 5 kilometers on Saturday. 5k. That's 3.1 miles. Yeah, I kick ass. No big deal.

We run our first official 5k on Saturday. I'm scared. I really don't wanna finish last. I'm kind of a slow runner, and I'm okay with that, but I really, really, really don't want to be last. Here's how my prayers are gonna go between now and then:

"Dear God, I know there are a lot more important things going on in the world, and people who need your prayers more than I do, but if you can maybe put an angel intern on the case, I would really appreciate it if I could finish before at least one other person on Saturday. Love, Savanna."

PS: I've run over 50 miles in the past two months. That's 50 more miles than I've run... ever. 

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow

So, for you kind and lovely people who aren't able to experience Arkansas weather, we are now experiencing Snowmageddon: Part Two (or as some Northern folk might call it, a light dusting). We Southerners can make sweet tea, biscuits and gravy, fried chicken, and pie like NOBODY'S business, but one snowflake falls and we all hop in our cars, forget how to drive, and drive slower than I run to the grocery and/or liquor store to stock up on the essentials.

Now, I don't mind the cold. I ran two miles outside yesterday in 24 degree weather. I had my Under Armor leggings and long sleeve hooded shirt on, a North Face WindWall jacket, and a scarf. Yes, I probably looked completely ridiculous, but I was actually almost too warm. I was about to rock the jacket-around-the-waist look that is attractive on exactly no one when my handy little Nike+ thing informed me that I only had 400 meters to go. Now, I don't know a lot about the metric system beyond what we use in chemistry (read: I can use conversion factors) but I do know that 400 meters means I'm entirely too close to being done to stop for something as stupid as a jacket. On a side note, whoever thought to inform a girl- who is measuring her run in miles- how many damn meters she has left is an ass. A complete ass. Nike+ lady telling me I have 200 meters to go may as well tell me how far I ran in nautical miles, because at least then I can lie to myself and pretend they're real miles. So yeah, cold is okay. Cold I can handle. I can't handle the snow. My luck, I'd hit a patch of ice, fall, twist my ankle, and I'd be out of training. And I'm pretty sure I'd rather run on that stupid indoor track that takes 12 laps to equal a stupid mile before I'd hop on a dreadmill. I feel like I'm a little hamster running on a wheel and I have to go X amount of miles before God sticks his hand in my cage and gives me a snack. (But even the hamster wheel measures distance in miles.)

Beyond my stress about the weather, yesterday's run was the best thus far. They actually, surprisingly, amazingly, are getting easier and infinitely more enjoyable. I was bouncing through downtown yesterday when I looked in a store window and realized that I was smiling while I was running. It was a shocking, fantastic feeling when I realized that I had become one of those people. I'm completely okay with that, though, because when we get to the 10-12 mile runs soon and the 20-22 mile runs in the fall, there will be less "happy runner" and more "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can" while bouncing, bouncing, bouncing along.

The point of this post? I can comfortably (with a smile of my face) run two miles. And it feels pretty freaking good.

So, let's drop the "w" word...

Weight. 

Weight loss sucks.

Weight gain sucks.

Weight is kind of just is a bitch in general.

Whether you strive for some number on the scale or strive to maintain some number on the scale, you know what I'm talking about. There is such an emphasis on being an ideal weight or having the ideal BMI (which I have more problems with than I care to bring up at this point) in order to attain optimal health that- wait for it- people forget to behave in ways that are actually healthy! My freshman year of high school, I crash-dieted, exercised, and lost 30 pounds in a month. A month!! Well guess what happened. Slowly (but surely), I gained every damn pound back, plus thirty more. I ate and exercised in a way that was depriving my body of what it needed and put myself in a completely horrible position because I was so focused on a certain weight, because I perceived it to be "healthy". So fast forward to the end of my high school career, and I was suffering greatly and was far less healthy than I had been to begin with, all because I wanted a number. Well, dear readers, here's an idea that has taken me years to understand and may seem rather counterproductive, but stay with me...

WEIGHT. DOESN'T. MATTER

Now, this is by no means me trying to justify anything to anyone. I'm done with justification and all of the shit associated with it. My head is out from under the covers and I'm dealing with the consequences of my unhealthy behaviors in an extremely healthy and active manner. As a result, I'm in better shape than I have ever been in my entire life. Yesterday, for example, was probably the best run I've had thus far. With the exception of stopping briefly after the first mile to stretch the extremely taut, tense muscles in my calves, I felt amazing. I never thought I would be able to say this, but I actually forgot that I was running. Let me throw that one out there one more time, just because it's that big of a deal. I forgot that I was running. And after Tuesday's disappointing run, I really needed to hit one out of the park. I did. And it was amazing. I'm running, doing Yoga, teaching Zumba, doing Pilates, doing all sorts of physical activity. I'm using a combination of my dietician's recommendations and Weight Watchers guidelines in order to provide my body with adequate calories and nutrients in order to fuel it in my activities. I am, by far, the healthiest I've ever been. And, as a natural result of this, my body is adjusting itself and I am losing weight that my body has, through my active lifestyle, deemed unnecessary and I am gaining muscle that my body needs in order to endure the workouts that I am so enjoying. I have lost 23 pounds, and I still have weight to lose, but I'm not focusing on the number. The number is merely a reflection of my efforts, not a reflection how I feel about myself or what I think that I am capable of. I mentioned to a friend that Weight Watchers' "ideal weight" for me would be completely unattainable because of the amount of muscle I have and my body fat percentage, I would have to not only lose all of my body fat, but muscle as well... That ain't gon HOPPEN!! I am more than okay with being a little heavier and still having my guns. In response to this (what I thought was a rather obvious point) she said not to limit myself because I could work hard and achieve any number I wanted. After staring blankly into space for approximately a week trying to figure out a way to respond to that without asking "GIRL IS YOU CRAZY?", I realized that her mentality is the exact reason why women try to conform to what our society says is beautiful... BECAUSE WE BELIEVE IT TOO! Society has us convinced that skinny is beautiful and that the only way we can do what we want to do, be who we want to be, and live the kind of live we want to live is to be skinny. Well girls, I have some news (and society, you can go jump off a bridge if you don't like it):

Healthy is the new skinny, the new beautiful, and the new happy. 

PS: If you're into it, please pray for Sara Ann and her family, who recently lost a beloved mother/grandmother/great-grandmother. 

What Training Really Looks Like...

We were tired (as usual) , so we hopped on the empty display couch in Target and stayed for a good 20 minutes. Feel free to attempt on your own, but we're not responsible for any team huddles you may happen upon or any actions taken against you. Nap with caution, soldiers, nap with caution.

Well you see what had happened was...

There was this war in Greece a very, very, very long time ago. As a part of this war, a battle was fought in this handy little place called Marathon and, since the Spartan ninjas were fighting, Greece won. And, since the Greeks were impatient little bitches who couldn't wait for word to spread like normal people, they insisted that some unlucky guy named Pheidippides run his happy ass all the way from Marathon to Athens, only to say "hey, we won!!" and then die. A while later, somebody decided to retrace his steps and design a footrace after his path. While most normal people would acknowledge that- given the choice of a 22 mile or a 26 mile route- Pheidippides would have chosen the shorter route, apparently some serious, hardcore running person decided that a 22 mile route was ENTIRELY too short, and a 26 mile route still didn't seem worth his time. Alas, the 26.2 mile long marathon was born.

Fast forward about 2500 years, and here Sara Ann and I are, chugging along with bodies protesting and our sanity questioned as we take the next eleven months to prepare for one of the most strenuous activities that we'll ever endure. We went running last night at about 5:30 PM, while it was dark and while it was cold, not because we had to, but because we wanted to. Because our legs were tense and uncomfortable after a day of (what most people would consider) average use. Our bodies are adapting to the increasing amounts of stress and pressure we're exposing them to, and it's one of the most amazing things I've ever done. With every run and every meal and every nonrunning workout our bodies are becoming more and more like those of marathoners and we in turn are becoming more responsive to their needs. My arms, for one, are getting to be freaking beastly. I, Savanna, have guns. My tummy is getting smaller by the day, which means my abs are closer to being defined. There is soreness coming from places that I didn't even realize could be sore, but it's absolutely the best kind of sore you can possibly imagine. And there's the hunger. I'm happy to report that (after a visit with Hendrix's dietician), Sara Ann and I are hungry because- despite our efforts to eat all the damn time and still make healthy choices- we're not eating enough. By about 1000 calories. That's a LOT of food!! We're gradually trying to add in more healthy options, but there are sometimes that I say to hell with healthy and eat what sounds good. What's absolutely crazy though, is that when I ate a piece of my friend Ethan's peppermint bark, it made me sick to my stomach... Yuck. I am more than ecstatic to report, however, that the french toast I had for dinner was delicious and the sugar-free syrup agreed with my new ninja-dom. Any time that I can eat french toast and ranch dressing and french fries and a multitude of deliciousities and still lose weight is a time that I will be happy with. It's that diet plan that's gonna get me through tomorrow when I have yoga, a run, and then teach Zumba in a consecutive three hour period. Clif Bars (and the thought of indulgences), please don't fail me now!!

PS: An extra fabulous shoutout to my high school friends Haley and Emily, who most definitely made my night!! Thank you guys so much for your support! You have no idea how much it means and how the thought of reactions like that make it a little easier to keep running even when you're pretty sure the muscles in your calves are gonna stage a violent protest 3/4 of the way through a run!

"So the first person to do this died??"

So this isn't exactly a post, but this is hilarious. Enjoy! A new (real) post will come soon!!!

Dorm Sweet Dorm?

Besides all of the running that I've been doing, I also moved back into my dorm; while it's not a legitimate reason, it's why I haven't updated. PS, Fam: Love you and miss you guys already :)

So, if you glance to the right to that little box entitled "Miling Towards Disney World" you will see that I have run thirty miles since I started training. Thirty. Freaking. Miles. I've run a marathon and some. Now, that's wonderful and I'm not complaining in the slightest, but it's taken me a month to run this far. A MONTH. I only have a few hours to run it for real! It's definitely a scary, scary thought. I keep telling myself that this month was to get me into shape and that it'll get easier, and I hope my body's listening to me. I'm okay with my brain knowing what's coming, I'm just scared that if my legs know then they'll shut down like my little brother did when we tried to make him eat his veggies. The muscles will tense up and tell me that it hurts for them to move and that they realllllly don't want to move anymore and that they'll stay there until I do something to distract (or for those of us familiar with Tracay, discract) them from the misery they're suffering. OH HEY, WAIT A SECOND... They're doing that already!!! They already hurt, and I'm pretty sure if it wasn't for the fact that the muscles in the rest of my body outnumber the muscles in my legs and my willpower outlasts their resistance efforts, they would have already pooped out. But so long as the BioFreeze and Advil hold out, I think I can distract (discract) them long enough for my next run.

In addition to my muscles congregating rather angrily in most of my body, I am the hungriest I have ever been in my entire life. It's ridiculous. I could probably eat more than any of my brothers. I eat breakfast. I run. I eat again. I do yoga. I eat lunch. I sleep. I eat again. I teach Zumba. I eat dinner. I eat again. I eat again again. And honestly, I'm still hungry when I go to sleep. I was still hungry last night, but I was already up in my bed (which is, I'm sorry to say, about five and a half feet off of the ground. My left thigh has evidence that it's NOT fun to fall out of) and I didn't feel like getting down again. I'm trying to eat as healthily and as often as possible, but sometimes I feel like mother nature is trying to fatten me up so that, if I were to collapse on a run, she could use me to feed a family of woodsy type creatures. Which is why I run on the streets and legitimate trails and (ugh) dreadmills, so that those little woodsy bitches can't snatch me up. It ain't gon' HAPPEN!

One of the perks about being in college is that Hendrix has a dietitian (and coaches and marathoners) on campus that will work with Sara Ann and I for free while we're doing this. We're meeting with the dietitian on Thursday to see if there's something I can do about satisfying my hunger in a more productive, efficient way. Also, Hendrix will give us the opportunity to apply to receive funding for our pilgrimage to Disney World next January to run the marathon via the Odyssey Program. Our running is a "special project" and will allow us to dip our toes into the field of sports medicine while also serving as (rather badass, ninja-like) ambassadors for our school at the marathon itself. We'll wear Hendrix garb and basically act as walking billboards while we're down there. I'm completely okay with that. Plus it gives us accountability beyond each other, because on days like this (where it's noon and Sara Ann is still sound, sound asleep) and we need to run, I have Odyssey on my side :)

Embrace:Me

When a woman sits down to watch a television show, she is bombarded with commercials that advertise products that promise to help you lose a pound an hour, be able to train for and run a marathon in a month, and make your face look as taut and youthful as a newborn's. Among these magical cures is the Special K Diet, which a fellow blogger and runner has debunked and is fighting to eradicate. In addition to her movement to banish the Special K "Diet", she has also started a movement entitled "Embrace:ME". She boldly announced and acknowledged her flaws and, through this acknowledgement, is learning to embrace them. So, Emilie (whom I do not personally know and whose message has already reached Arkansas), here's my story.

(my big camera is in my dorm, but you get the idea)

Okay, so here's me, 23 pounds down from my starting point in August. While I still have a way to go, I'm definitely content with where I am. I have big hips, plenty of junk in the trunk, "thunder" thighs, and calves that won't fit in normal boots. But those parts are gonna power me through the next 800+ miles and my marathon next year. Beyond that, those hips will help me have babies one day. Those "thunder" thighs are what allows me to teach Zumba. Those calves look damn good in high heels. I've never had a Carmen Electra tummy, and if by the grace of God my ab muscles are ever defined, it will have been through hours and hours and hours of hard work. But, hey, I'm okay with that. Part of my ultimate acceptance of whatever my body decided to throw at me was my tattoo. It says "make your own luck" in my mom's handwriting... You have to make your own luck and make your own happiness, and that involves loving, accepting, and embracing every single part of yourself.

Yes, I plan on losing a little more weight. Yes, I plan on running a marathon.  Hell, I'm probably going to run more than one. But, you know what, I'm loving myself now, so that when I'm in marathon shape and have the best stomach of my life, I'm gonna enjoy it as a reflection of my hard work. I will also have the confident knowledge now and then that, no matter how old I am or how my body looks, I'm a wonderful, caring, loving, beautiful person. That's what counts.

Po' Lil' Tink Tink...

So, while Katt Williams is streaming via Netflix, I shall share the wondrous tales of the runs of the past few days.* I really don't have a purpose for that asterisk, but I learned today that that it's pronounced ass-tah-RISK, not ass-tah-RICK. Just thought I should share that little fun fact and blow your mind. 'Cause it totally blew mine.

Anyway, after my Louisiana adventure, I resumed my normal running schedule on Thursday. Being the good little gym bunny that I am, I decided to take the Total Body Conditioning class after I got home. I get my happy ass up at (the horribly early hour of) 11:00 AM, get to the gym, and wait for 20 minutes only to be rather cheerfully informed that the TBC class had been taken outside so that- wait for it- they could run. WHAT THE HELL? I figured that I should go ahead and work out since I was already there... Cue the dreadfully somber music that should naturally fill your head when you even think the words "treadmill workout". I hereby move to rename the treadmill "Dreadmill", because that's the only feeling those damn things evoke. Dread. For the immense boredom that's about to happen. I also lifted some weights, and after all my Zumba With Weights (NOT Toning!!), my arms are looking pretty freaking fantastic. The best part, though, was that the vast majority of people at the gym were resolutioners, so my measly mile and a half dreadmill workout looked like Jeff Galloway himself had traipsed into the Little Rock Athletic Club.

Speaking of New Years Resolutions, I would like to clarify now that this marathon isn't just a resolution. This is a decision that I made in November to fulfill a dream that I've had for quite a while. Yes, this blog  was started on January 1st, but that was just a coincidence, I promise!! The main purpose of this little piece of fabulousity is to chronicle my journey from shitshow to marathon.  Not that I have a problem with resolutioners; work it out, babe! However, please know that I don't expect to see 95% of you next to me in Yoga class in March. It's not about resolutions, it's about a lifestyle change. It sucks. I know it does. But then something happens, and you go running over the Big Dam Bridge and you don't only run over it, you run back. You run two miles and you realize that, hey, this is pretty damn cool.

So yeah, I ran over the Big Dam Bridge. And then turned around and ran back. I felt pretty freaking accomplished, if I do say so myself. Especially considering that there's a 5% incline going up both sides. It doesn't seem like much, but hop on a dreadmill at 5% incline and pop that sucker at about 5.5 MPH. You know what's gonna happen? Your gluteus to the maximus is gonna need BioFreeze. Mine did. A lot. But hey, I'm training for a marathon, and a little soreness isn't gonna stop me!

The Hogs may have lost the Sugar Bowl…

But that didn’t stop me from running! Nor did my extended stay in New Orleans, partially due to overconsumption of, among other delicious treats (including the best bread pudding I have ever tasted), Café du Monde’s magnificent, fabulous, should-be-illegal-they-taste-so-good beignets and what would have happened if I had neglected ze running.  (For those of you who don’t have the slightest clue what a beignet is, it’s a square piece of doughy deliciousness that is then fried [doughnut-style] and completely blanketed with powdered sugar. The frying and sugar aren’t exactly part of the running diet, but it’s a form of bread, and bread equals carbs. I promised there would be no carb left behind, and I intend on sticking to that!) That's not even the best part; despite the dessert and fried deliciousnesses, I did not gain a pound!!

Beyond that, I am happy to report that I did run both full days I was there, despite the janky treadmills and, oh yeah, THE FREAKING HUMIDITY. Don’t underestimate its power. Just don’t. It probably didn’t help that the treadmills were in the same room as the pool, either. On the second day, I had the bright idea to run up and down the 20 flights of stairs in the building, because hey, the humidity would be lower, and there was no way in hell that I was running in the streets. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, I just happen to come equipped with a sense of self-preservation. So I walk out of my room, into the stairwell, and promptly turned around and went to the janky treadmill. Yeah that sense of self-preservation I mentioned? It kicked in once I realized that, as a young white female tourist, me being alone in that stairwell was about as smart as me setting up a hammock in the middle of a deserted back alley. So I endured perhaps one of the dullest, most humid treadmill workouts in the history of ever. 

That boing treadmill workout did serve a purpose, though. All of this running in one spot is really making me appreciate the outdoor running-to-get-somewhere running. I really wish my neighborhood had more soft paths, rather than just streets and hard paths... My knees still have about 875 miles to endure, and I need to do everything I can to keep them healthy, so I need to use treadmills and soft paths to help reduce impact. Hard paths and roads are the only thing near me, and the only soft trail I know of is pretty far away. Plus, the whole "driving to a place where I can run" thing kind of befuddles me. I imagine I'll break down eventually and do it (I mean, I do have a Twitter now), but it's gonna take a little more boredom and a little less cold for that one to happen. 

So yeah, I'm running a marathon...

A full marathon. 

26.2 miles.

Plus almost 600 miles of training. 

That's me, on my feet, chugging along from Nashville, TN to Washington D.C. Oh yeah, I'm running a half marathon, too. Add about 300 miles of running. Almost 900 miles... Of running.


I guess I should probably mention this... I hate running. Well, I did. Savanna as of August 2010 hated running. She would run if someone with an axe was chasing her. But this is Savanna as of December 2010 and she's training for a marathon. No wait, she's ENJOYING training for a marathon. And the fact that carbs are pretty much a must-have. The Liz Gilbert in me is eating, praying, loving, and running and not planning on leaving a single damn carb behind.


This enjoyment may have to do with the fact that today, despite the cold, I ran two miles, including the most obnoxious hill in my neighborhood. I may or may not have cried a little because I was freezing and no matter how much I ran I was still cold and that stupid hill seemed like it would never end. But I didn't stop. I didn't call my mom to come get me, even though I reallllllly wanted to. Because I have a marathon to run. And it's against the rules for mommies to come save you. And I'm pretty sure my partner-in-crime Sara Ann isn't going to be in any state to drag me along. 


So I keep mentioning a marathon... But which marathon, you ask? The Disney World Marathon. Because the most hellacious, strenuous, and exhausting 26.2 miles of my life should take place in the happiest place on Earth, right? And because the princess in me giggles just thinking about running through Cinderella Castle.


But for now, my treadmill and neighborhood will have to do. Accompanied by copious amounts of Advil and BioFreeze.