woman runner

Neither happy nor sad: That’s how Adrienne was feeling during her 11-mile run.

In this edition of Martini Fridays, Adrienne Martini, training for the Pittsburgh Half-Marathon using the Train Like a Mother: Finish It Half-Marathon plan, deals with complaining calf muscles–and a strong craving for a Crayola-colored milkshake. 

After such a stellar run last week, disappointment was inevitable, so I knew a let-me-down 11-miler on Saturday wouldn’t be out of the question. So I wasn’t all that disappointed, actually, when the inevitable came to pass. Which makes me, what, appointed?

On Friday night, my husband and I had driven an hour and back to see a play, so I knew I would be starting the long one with one foot already in the underhydrated-and-overtired bucket. Also factoring in to my appointment was my right calf. It had been grouchy since the previous week’s double-digit run. There hasn’t been any real pain, not even during Thursday’s speedwork, but it spent the week feeling like a toddler on the verge of a tantrum–and I felt just as powerless to stop it as I did when my kids were that small.

Because of the cranky calf, I rested rather than do a mix of planks and squats on a XT day. I’ve also been elevating and compressing. For the “ice” part of the RICE equation, I’ve just been standing with my right leg in a snowbank.

Yes, we still have great heaps of snow. No, I don’t want to talk about it.

The exotic list of ingredients in 701 pain-plaster is almost as long as this week's run.

The exotic list of ingredients in 701 pain-plaster is almost as long as this week’s run.

And, no, I really haven’t been standing in snow. Instead, I’ve been using these “701” pain patches my friend Laura, who is an acupuncturist/massage therapist/all-around healer gave me. Slap one on to an achy muscle and your limb feels like it’s been dipped in a vat of IcyHot. The downside is that you smell like a mix of menthol and peat with an underlying note of funk. Which is also how I describe the band I was in in college.

(Note: I wasn’t in a band in college. Just couldn’t resist the joke.)

I set out on Saturday with the intention of running on the outdoor track. The weather has been sunny enough to melt most of the ice on our sidewalks. I figured the track surface is like a sidewalk and should be clear, too. Plus, I thought the squishy and level surface would be good for the grouchy calf.

Sadly, the track was still a skating rink. I had to go with Plan B, which was a route I’ve run dozens of times. I figured I’d just add some miles in the middle to make it up to 11 or 12.

No Zamboni in sight, but the track is still an ice rink.

No Zamboni in sight, but the track is still an ice rink.

For those who have friended me on Strava–and if you haven’t, why not?–a few word about my pace. First, I am really, really slow. Really. I know this and am happy-ish with it. Really, I’m just thrilled to be running so far. Second, once Herr Garmin is started, I don’t stop him until I’m done. All of the chats with my husband and GU stops are included in my time. There is no good reason for this, other than a fear that if I stop Herr Garmin, I’ll turn any quick break into a much, much longer break because no one is keeping track but me. Weird, I know, but here we are.

The rest of the run was fine. Not great. Not awful. This route takes me past a McDonald’s and a promised myself I’d come back for a Shamrock Shake later. These frosty green delights are one of my guiltiest pleasures. I don’t feel all that awful about eating treats like ice cream, cake, cookies, and pie (usually not in the same sitting, mind you) but I do feel I should be above loving a milkshake that only sortof resembles food. But I adore them and look forward to Shamrock season every year.

My right calf played along during the run and only let out an occasional complaint. The run itself never stopped feeling like work, but at least it was work I could do.

When I got home, I discovered the children had consumed the rest of the chocolate milk so I made my own disappointing glass of it with some random hot cocoa packets burrowed in our kitchen cabinets. It was fine, if a little sad, much like the rest of the run.

Garmin says it was 11 miles; Adrienne calls it "appointed."

Garmin says it was 11 miles; Adrienne calls it “appointed.”

This week is a step-back week, where the long run is only 8 miles with a strong finish. If you’d ask me a year ago if I’d evolve enough as a runner to think of an 8-mile run as only 8, I’d think you were nuts.I also have an appointment with the aforementioned Laura this week to see if she can beat the knots out of my leg. She’s a runner, too, and always seems to find the extra owie spots.

There is one think that I could use some help with. I find that I am hungry all of the time lately but am completely bored by all of my snack options. I’m tempted to go on an all Shamrock Shake regime but thought I’d ask: What is your go-to nosh when you need something sort of substantial but don’t really have time to deal with making or eating a full meal?