Dear Running,

It's been a while since I've written. Our relationship has been a little rocky these past few months, and I wasn't quite sure how I felt about you. But I feel like we've finally come to an agreement. The whole idea of mutual respect has started to settle in. We're still learning how to really respect each other, but we're getting closer. (For example, you *could* have been a little nicer during my 14 miler. I didn't appreciate the knee pain, thankyouverymuch.)

While you and I were out together last Thursday, I took some time to contemplate your importance to me. Some things are obvious and have been stated before, but I know how much you like to hear me go on and on about you. That's why we get along so well - our egos feed each other.

Aside from enjoying you just because I simply can...I also appreciate the fact that you get me outside, even when I don't necessarily *want* to be outside - like in a snowstorm. You make me feel tough as nails. And I need that.

Because of you, I get to hear people say 'Dianna, you have runner's legs!' - and I will never, ever, ever get sick of hearing that. Ever.

I will also never tire of seeing the expression on people's faces when I tell them that I am a runner. I feel like I instantly gain their respect and admiration. About 80% of the time, people will remark 'Oh, I wish I could run...good for you!' Sometimes I encourage them to introduce themselves to you, but other times, I selfishly keep you all to myself. My secret. We all need secrets, right?

I especially love when you show me 'life-moments' that I would normally overlook or miss entirely, like the glimpse I caught of the firefighter's boots and pants, turned-out, just waiting by the firetruck door for The Call. Simple and powerful.

Even when we aren't getting along, you still find a way to affect my life. Being injured brought me to physical therapy, which in turn reminded me of my true passion in life - helping people feel good about themselves. Physical therapy was the spark that lit the fire, and now I'm exploring new career options. Scared? You'd better believe it. But I was scared to run a marathon too...and we got through that together, didn't we?

I guess you are good at making me feel confident about myself and my abilities, even when I don't always believe in myself. I trust you...I really do. You have already given me so much, and even when it seems like I can't learn any more from you, you surprise me. I love good surprises.

Thanks again Running. Let's keep working on making this relationship strong.

It was a weekend full of running around, food, wine, good friends, cute boys, some rolling around and even a bit of vomit.

Sounds wild and raucous, no?

St. Patty's Day was celebrated with friends at a local brewery, and I broke my no-booze-the-night-before-a-long-run rule and had a whole, entire pint of beer. Living on the edge, I didn't even have my requisite pasta but opted for a burrito instead. There was no stopping the me!

Saturday, I met up with April-Anne for a 10-miler, and the flat route combined with my old, trusty knee brace provided me with a pain-free run. (The ITB/knee was a little tight afterwards, but no pain, so the brace will become part of my wardrobe again. Sigh.)

Then, after a fun-filled hour picking up trash along the trail where I had just run, I drove down to the shore to spend the night with a friend and the many cute boys in her life.

Granted, two of the boys were four-legged and furry...but the third boy? Wow. What a cutie! But since he threw up on me TWICE, and he's a little young for me, at 5 months old, I knew the relationship would never last. Besides, he was sound asleep by 8:00 p.m. and we had just cracked open a delicious bottle of red wine. What kind of guy falls asleep with two drunk women fawning over him? Jeesh. The nerve.

Finally, I spent some time rolling around on the floor, doing some stretches and working the ITB over the foam roller. A few years ago, this type of 'wild' weekend would have looked a little bit different...

But no matter, I loved the way this one turned out.

The weekend has been one of highs and lows.

Yesterday, I drove up to Weston, MA to meet Annalisa at the New England Multi-Sports Expo. While the expo wasn't all that I hoped it would be, Annalisa and I had pre-registered for a swim clinic that I had been breathlessly anticipating all week. (And! I got stretched by a PT at the expo...I love that!)

I really had no idea what to expect from the swim clinic, especially since I haven't had any 'formal' swim instruction since I was a 6-year-old 'goldfish' (or minnow or some such small fish) in the local YMCA swim program.

The clinic was conducted by Mark H. Wilson (triathlon coach, founder/president Hudson Valley Triathlon Club), and it was just amazing! There were about 17 of us in the pool, stuffed into four lanes. He took us through the exercise slowly, building the stroke piece by piece. It felt awkward at first, but by the end I didn't want to get out of the pool - I wanted to keep swimming - I felt like I was flying down the lane! I even woke up with some sore newly-discovered muscles in my back, which makes me wonder which muscles I was using to swim before...If any.

Between the awesome clinic, getting to hang out with Annalisa, and the sunshine, it was stellar day.

Today was The Long Run. The Schedule called for 10-12 miles, slow pace. April-Anne kindly rearranged her schedule so we could run together and we were on the road by 9:00 a.m. I was feeling a little sluggish, energywise, but everything else was in working order.

Around mile three, we headed up on to the rail trail. It wasn't as muddy as I expected it to be, but the soil was extremely soft in places, and it was almost like running on the beach. Except with rocks and sticks all over the place. I felt my feet sliding all over the place, and at one point had to stop to adjust my shoe because it felt like it had slid 'off-center.'

When we got back on to the roads around mile 6, the pavement felt strange under our feet, almost like transitioning from the bike to running during a tri.

At mile 7.63, the knee felt odd. And it just got worse from there. I can't say for sure if it was the ITB or not, because the pain (and oh, yes, it was pain. not just tightness) was just to the lateral side of my knee...before it spread to underneath my knee too. It was enough pain to be annoying but not enough to make me walk.

We got back to my house after 10 miles, and April-Anne ordered me to not run any further.

But we all know I had to.

After stretching for a bit, I gingerly headed down the street for a quarter mile before heading back. Then got my dogs on their leashes and did it again with their help.

As soon as I stopped running, the knee felt fine. I'm not really sure what it means, and I have all sorts of theories about why it happened - the soft, loose soil on the trail; the hard effort earlier this week; the new orthotics; or the cambered/crowned roads.

There's been some rest and some drugs...later on there will be some more stretching and some ice. For now, I'll just wait and see what the new week brings.

Apparently, I've either been eating steroids with my Wheaties or I've broken my pace-distance watch, causing it to record incorrect data.

I mean, what the hell?

Tuesday. 4.25 miles (6.84k) in 35:30 with an average pace of 8:21 min per mile (5:11k). When I tried to slow down, by changing my breathing pattern, it only made me go faster. I was dumbfounded.

And yesterday? Coach told me I could do some 'pick-ups.' I guess my legs didn't get the message that the pick-ups were only supposed to last for 30 seconds each and I should slow down after each one. Sigh. The 5.02 miles (8.08k) flew by in 40:44. Yikes! That might be a training PR or damn near close to it.

I won't lie though...the ITB was a *little* cranky afterwards. Nothing painful. Just a bit tight, as if to remind me that I'm still recovering. (Spent some time on the foam roller. Not the same as a massage, but it helped.)

And then today?? It's Thursday...so that means it's Swim Day....and the Swimming Chicks rocked out 1700 yards, no problem. That's nearly a mile in the pool people!

It must be the Wheaties.

Finally.

A ten-miler.

What a relief!

More importantly, a pain-free long run. Or rather, an ITB-pain-free run. It's entirely possible that my ITB actually did hurt, but I was so focused on the side-stitch that had me doubled over, I didn't notice much else. (I may have noticed how cold it was somewhere during that first mile.)

For five miles, my side hurt. Five freakin' miles out of ten. April-Anne graciously stuck by me for the whole run, and never once complained when I asked her to stop so I could stretch. Not even the the third time. She just let me keep chatting away, distracting both of us with my constant babbling.

The pain was worth it. Regardless of the windy, sub-freezing weather and the shooting pain in my side, the run was awesome. Because I had a partner. Because we were outside with just the right number of layers on. Because it was the first time I was seeing double digits since OCTOBER.

And mostly, it was awesome just because I could.

Snow storm Doreen descending on our state yesterday (the weather media cracks me up with their names for storms).

I had a choice. I could do my four miles on the dreadmill. Or I could run outside in the snow storm.

What do *you* think I did?

Of course I opted for the 'outside' option, if for no other reason than because jeff told me that running in that kind of weather makes me 'hardcore.' If that's not motivating, I don't know what is!

So with an Ooh-Rah! and my YakTrax, I set out into the whirling whiteness, excited to see what the adventure would bring for me. I was not disappointed with the results. In fact, it was downright funny. Mostly.

The first mile, I was all smiles and 'Hey, look at me! I'm running! And it's snowing! I'm tough! No, wait..I'm *hardcore*!' [Insert song from the movie 'School of Rock' here] I briefly considered running some trails, but when I tried to access the trailhead and couldn't tell where the rocks and roots were, I hopped back onto the road.

I quickly realized that I had worn an inadequate neck warmer - it was so loose that the snow was blowing right over it and onto my neck...brrrr. No matter. I was out in it, and I wasn't going home until I was done.

By the end of mile two, I had to stop to eat some fruit snacks *and* a Gu. It's amazing how I seem to suffer from selective amnesia when it comes to running in the snow. It takes so much more out of me, especially negotiating through 3-5 inches of it.

As I headed back, I noticed that my footprints were nicely lined up in the snow, one foot right in front of the other, not side by side. I pressed on for the last two miles, with snow turning to ice on my eyelashes and clumping up on my neck warmer -- which I promptly took off once the weight of the snow made it bounce on my neck.

I began to ponder the subtle difference between insanity and stupidity. But once I was home, a hot shower and hot cocoa brought me to my senses and I knew I had done the right thing.

The part that really made me laugh was looking at my pace. I ran 3.97 miles...in 40:07...My splits were 9:59, 9:37, 10:48, 9.38. To put that in perspective, usually I can cover that route in 34-35 minutes. But this particular run wasn't about the pace, it was about the snow.

(In the interest of post-recovery full disclosure, I will admit that the combination of my new orthotics with the slippery snow resulted in my knee feeling a little sore today. Not sore in an ITB-way...more lateral soreness...like I made it do some work it didn't really want to do. But I have a massage booked for tonight, so not to worry...yes, I have to cheat on my PT-guy, it's just terrible and heartbreaking. But what's a girl with tight muscles to do? Beside, *he* broke up with *me*, remember?)