Farmers tan

Farmer's tan (adjective/possibly a noun) having a tan from mid-bicep down, but lack of tan from mid-bicep up. One lift of one's short sleeve shirt sleeve will show the amount of paleness one has.

It's that time of year where sitting inside seems almost crazy to think about which is why I have been spending my time outside studying while taking in the rays along with the exhaust from the nearby cars. After a total of 2 days I have already developed a farmers tan that even old McDonald would be proud of! What makes me feel better is that all the other guys walking on campus have them too. So apparently farmer's tans are all in style this season. Usually I would take care of this problem by rolling up my sleeves a little bit, but then I realized how AWESOME I look when I do that (little sarcasm there). When I have my unbearably pale arms I usually go running sometime during the day so I can knock out my run while at the same time soaking up some rays, but the past couple of weeks have been a little unorganized schedule wise.

I am not the kind of guy who would lay out and soak up some sun while sipping on a little fruity drink. I am the kind of guy who would rather cut the grass, play some football or ultimate frisbee, or hang out at the lake in order to get a tan. I would consider running as a "farmer's tan" because running is not about looking good, picking up girls, or having someone else do work for you because running is hard nosed-sweaty-dedicated work. In running you get what you put into your running. Farmer tans for some people say 'hey that guy needs to lay out more,' but when I see a farmer's tan I see someone who has put in hours and hours of hard work and dedication. Maybe nowadays more people should have farmer tans? What I am trying to say is that things in life are not always going to be as glamorous or sugar coated  like everyone would like them to be, but hard work and dedication, just like burnt arms, will show people the person you really are.

Low Expectations, High Goals

Today as I was coming out of my class this morning, I caught up with a guy in my class who was going to the rec center. I caught up to him and asked him if he was going to get a little workout in, and he said that he was and then asked me what I was going to do, and I was like "yea I'm probably just going to run for a hour," and he was like "WOW! Are you training for something?" I was like "Yea I've got a nine mile race this weekend," and he told me good luck and all that jazz and asked if there was a time I was going for, and it took me a while to register in my head that my race was less than a week away so I said "uhhh...probably somewhere along 57 mins for 9mins," which that is around 6:20 per mile. We parted ways to get our SWELL on and I kept thinking 57? 57?! Is that all I'm going to shoot for? So with all the math going on in my head trying to calculate what kind of pace I should and could run. ANYWHO I set off on my run feeling pretty awesome (started off 6:31 pace) then after a few miles in the books I went down to around 6:27 pace then on down to 6:22 pace. I ended up running the 9 miles in around 57:30, and then I began to think to myself that if I can do this all by myself imagine what I can do when I'm racing other guys and adrenaline pumping through my veins!

I feel like every time I try to do something such as run a 9 mile race, asking a lady friend out on a date, or doing something that could possibly knock my self-confidence down a notch I usually expect for the worst, but I have found out that over time I am more capable of doing things if I set my mind to it. I'll stick with the running example, when I thought about running 57mins for 9 miles I then remembered that 55mins won the race last year, and I've gotta be kidding myself if I think I am going to let myself come in second place aka First Loser. Even if I do come in 2nd or 3rd or even last I don't run for the "fame" or "glory" because I do what makes me feel good and running a bad race will never make me hate what I love. What I am trying to get across is that I know that sometimes in order to have something you love, you have to go through the struggles and the pain of your journey to be able to cherish and understand what you have accomplished.

School, Sleep, and Sweat stains

Monday started off as any regular Monday 8:30 class after the week of spring break t-e-r-r-i-b-l-e. I even set my alarm for a later time, but not even that could save me from facing the fact that I was paying these teachers thousands of dollars to come to class and listen to them go on and on about things I could really care less about. As my first class went on I was pretty sure I was going to crawl up into the fetal position and die right on the spot, but I was focused on one thing at the end of class, and that was going running in between my 8:30 and 2:30 class.
Today it was less about having to go run, but changing it to "I get to go run." If I was any normal person I would be like "what am I running for anyways?!" for me running is less than a obligation and more of a privilege. If I need time off I just listen to my body and see how it feels rather than going out to run as fast as possible every time.
Even with the constant worry of having to complete a total of 15pages in the next few weeks for a paper(!!!!) I still find time to get out and go for a run. Maybe it is because I have been doing it for so long that my body is pretty much programmed by now, but most of the time it is to relieve all the constant stress I have. Sometimes when things seem like they can't get any worse, I love going out on a run because it gives me time to think about everything. I have always loved running. Maybe it is the sense of accomplishment I feel after running and looking so sweaty that people think I just went swimming, or it maybe the strength I feel from God on those late afternoon runs when the sun is setting and you can barely see the road, you don't care how fast or slow you are going but you can feel that there is something special about this run, and that is why I love to run.

Good ole sweet taay

So it has been a few weeks since my first attempt at the marathon, and I feel a lot better than a couple of weeks ago. I was staying off my legs for about a week and a half just to give my body as much time to recover as I could. I'm not one the kinda person who says "Okay I'm taking 2 weeks off of any physical activity," instead I end up laying in my bed thinking "HOW MANY DAYS HAS IT BEEN SINCE I WENT RUNNING!?" then I look at the clock or calender and it has only been a day. I wish it were as easy as sitting on the couch and just using my thumb muscles to change the channel, but I have to get up and do something or else I will end up going stir crazy. I could easily lay around acting/looking/feeling like a bum, or I could imitate one hero's,  Forrest Gump and look like a bum but still do what I felt like doing. Every time I take an off day (usually Sunday) I make sure to embrace it for all it's worth. I am usually disciplined on drinking stuff like water or gatorade during the week, but when it comes to Sunday and my family heads to my grandparents, oh you bet I'm gonna have some sweet tea (pronounced taay in the South, pronounced Snapple in the North). Every time I have that first big gulp it always tastes good as I feel it flow threw my body as it mixes well with the huge lunch that will make anybody loosen a few belt notches. The past few weeks me and sweet tea have become lovers once again. I have made time during the week to let her know I still want her, and she is always there waiting for me at home, that is until we run out and in that case we will just make some more and thus rekindling our love.

DNF

For the past 6 months I have been training for my first marathon. My training had been going pretty smoothly considering I have to balance school, a job, and running every day. Even with my nonstop days I still stayed dedicated to my running even when running was the last thing on my mind.

So yesterday Sunday 2/12/2012 was the day that I had been waiting for since around Septemberish. I woke up about 4 or 5 times because 1) it had dropped down to 20 degrees! 2) I left the t.v. on 3) pretty sure the weather the last week had made me sick so coughing and sneezing woke me up and 4) I WAS FRIGGIN PUMPED TO RUN! So I wake up around 4:45 that Sunday morning to start getting my race plan all together. I made some breakfast (cinnamon toast and a little bit of coffee), get my uniform and gear all together, and try to watch a little ESPN to calm me down (like that was gonna happen!). So I'm racing around the house try to not forget anything at all, and at the same time I'm trying to get my mom and sister ready to go because I wanted to be there at least a hour before the race so I wouldn't stress.

There is a certain smell/taste/tingling sensation I get when I get to any race. Today my spidey senses were going crazy! I was thinking this is the day I complete my first marathon and finally qualify for the Boston Marathon! As I see all the runners who are warming up my heart starts to beat a little faster because it knows that race time is quickly approaching me. I begin my light warm-up by jogging around the courthouse and around Linn Park. I'm thinking in my head "you got this! you just have to be patient. Relax bro!" As soon as I get back inside of Boutwell Auditorium and meet my mom to start shedding off some of the layers that I was wearing I hear a man on a megaphone say "10 MINUTES, RUNNERS!" As soon as I hear that I'm trying to stay calm and just get to the line to start my run.

As I toe the line I see a lot of faces I know in the crowd of thousands that are out to run and compete in the 16 degree wind-chilled journey. BANG! the gun goes off for us to start running. I was weaving and bobbing through the crowd to get some space for me to breathe, and then I finally find my friend who I would stay with until about mile 14. The fans were all lining about every street in Birmingham to watch us all. I had established a good little group of about 3 runners who were aiming for the same times (2:45). We were talking and chatting along the way. I did not realize that all that chatting we were doing was just wasted energy that I was using.

Mile 15- this was the farthest I had ever ran before (part of the reason for how I ended up). I was feeling fine but my feet were beginning to feel the pain of the pounding of the miles. Mile 19 comes along (2 hours into the run) I was thinking okay just 45 more minutes to go! But what happened to me between mile 21 and 22 I never saw coming. I had just been going uphill and into the wind, and I was alone in the race. I start my downhill descent and I go to a water station to get some powerade. I grab the powerade and drink it. About  50 yards later I start to get a little light-headed and start seeing these spots. Even in the bright sun all of a sudden it got really dark and I couldn't see. I was thinking this is the end for me, I'm going to die on this race course. Then I saw a police officer as I was stumbling around the road like a frat boy coming home from a late night partying, and I waved her down and said I needed help and then I just dropped to the ground.

I have never dropped out of a race because I always give all I can to the race. Well this time I left EVERYTHING out on the course. I eventually got back to Boutwell Auditorium with a little help an ambulance. I eventually found my mom and sister and I told her everything that had happened to me, and she knew something was wrong when I did not cross the finish line at the time I wanted.

The feeling that I felt after leaving the race is something that I hope to never feel again. After putting hundreds of miles and time into this one race, I still came up short. I knew what my problem was concerning my training because I did not work on my long runs. Yea I would go on 14 to 15 mile runs but that is a cake walk compared to running 20+ miles. This helped me see that yea I had trained hard for a long time, but there are so many things that I could have done like going for 20 to 30 minutes longer on my long runs, eating better, and not taking back-to-back off day aka being lazy. But oh well I learned a lot from this experience and I am going to jump right back on my horse and saddle up for another race after a much needed 2 week break. On to the next one!

Taylor