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.