False Advertising

For the past 6.5 yrs I’ve joked that Jay false advertised himself as a runner on his dating profile.  (Did you know we met on Plenty of Fish back in the winter of 08/09?)

On Saturday, he fully proved me wrong, running his first ultramarathon, the KneeKnacker from Horseshoe Bay to Deep Cove. Jay got the full ultra experience, complete with puking, cramping, and blisters. He never thought of quitting and finished in 6:52. I couldn’t be prouder of my non-runner husband, and now I have a “Klassen family time” to beat next time my name gets drawn in the KK lottery.

He has yet to upload the pictures yet (or maybe I totally suck as a stand-in photographer, and captured nothing useable…)  But I did want to check in with you guys and let you know how the day went, for both sides of the Klassens.

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Check out the worry on my face, and the not so happy Jay face.  Uh oh…

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Silver Linings

Monday and Tuesday were bad yes.  Wednesday I forced myself out the door, had a super productive day, and capped it off with a coffee visit with one of my besties in the evening.  Exactly what I needed.  Yes, I would rather be catching up with her, as we chase each other up and down the mountains, but the friendship boost is still there, on or off the trails.

Thursday was another good day with another friendship boost from another bestie, this time coupled by some pool running.

And then I put my running shoes on Thursday late afternoon, and, drumroll please…

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Depression Monster

Man, when I hit rock bottom, I sure hit rock bottom.

My food/eating is ridiculously terrible.  My sleep is sub-par.  My motivation level to be productive is basically nil.  I’ve strugggggggled to get out of bed this week.  And then today, I argued with myself about getting groceries, and finally said fine, as long as I bought some kind of treat for myself.  Ice cream sandwiches.  Which I really don’t need or deserve.

But then it gets worse.  I have a confession to make.  I basically ran and hid from someone I recognized from the running world today in the grocery store.  Continue reading

I don’t want to talk about it.

Sighhhhhhhhhhh.

I don’t want to talk about my ankle at all.  I don’t want to talk about the fact that KneeKnacker is ONE WEEK away.  I don’t want to constantly hear the sympathetic song and dance from fellow runners.  I’m so effing tired of being the injured kid on the sidelines not getting to jump in and play with their friends.  I’ve actually completely avoided telling anyone about the injury, and only talking about it when it comes up in conversation.  I’m not going to lie to anyone, you know that’s not me.  But, at the same extent, I just don’t want to talk about it anymore.  Even with avoiding it, I’m still having to talk about it multiple times a day.  That’s the first world problem of A) not having any friends that aren’t runners, and B) having amazing and caring and wonderful people as friends.  I obviously appreciate the care and concern, I just can’t handle the constant conversation and reminder of the fact that I’m not running right now, barely walking without pain, and the chances of me running in my goal race for 2015, a race so special to me, the KneeKnacker is slim to none.

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