relaxed runner

criss-cross applesauce

2011-02-07T15:39:00.002-05:00

I am new to cross-training.

Yes, I know that runners are supposed to do it (so says The Gospel According to Runner's World), but seriously who has the time? There are plenty of days that it's hard enough to fit running in, without my "off" days becoming "on" days.

Well, this year I decided I was going to do some kind of non-running activity twice a week - step class, Shred, yoga, whatever. And I've been good 5 weeks into the year - 3 runs a week, 2 other workouts. I'm finding ways to fit these into my week, thinking about my extra curriculars in the same way I plan out my runs: what am I going to do, when am I going to do it. It helps that Claire likes to at least start exercising with me at home, even if she doesn't do the whole 25 minutes of Jillian Michaels torturing me.

I've been feeling in great shape and yesterday proved it for me. I went for an 8 mile run, my longest in 4 months (my half marathon being that longest run). Eight miles was 2.5 miles longer than my recent long runs, and I know I'm not supposed to increase my mileage that much at a time, but I wanted to go long. The weather was almost spring-like and I had the time to do it.

And my legs feel awesome! They felt great an hour after running, my cranky right hip has stayed silent, and I woke up pain free this morning - no stiffness even. I can only attribute this miracle to the cross-training I've been doing. It's kept my cardio up during the winter and I'm using more muscles, better.

So, apparently, those in exercise science DO know what they are talking about!

hip hip hooray!

2011-01-31T15:26:00.003-05:00

I DID IT!

I set myself a goal for the month and I met it!

I've never, ever set myself an actual goal for my running (or for much of my life, really). I'm usually a very flexible, let's-see-where-this-takes-us kind of girl. Planning is not a great gift of mine. Sure, I can make lists and cross things off...but for the long-range sort of plans, my vision is normally blurry.

But this year I set myself a goal - to run 700 miles in 2011. Which means I'll have to be pretty dedicated to running each and every month, rather than my normal here-and-there approach to my running.

My goal for January was to run 50 miles; this was after running only 17 miles for the month of December. I ran on back-to-back days (something I don't normally do) and I ran in the snow several times. I carefully thought through my week - which days would I run? how would I fit it into those days? And, I stuck with it.

This month I ran 50.6 miles!

And I also did something else: I started cross-training at least 2 days a week. I'm feeling in the best shape ever!

My goal in February is to run another 50 miles. It's a shorter month and I have 2 weekend trips planned, so it's going to be tougher to do. But, tomorrow morning I plan on lacing up my shoes (in the snow, it seems) and start tackling my next 50.

makin' trax

2011-01-12T12:58:00.002-05:00

It finally snowed!! I've been waiting for 2 weeks for a storm to deliver enough snow that I could enjoy a run outside in a winter wonderland.

Yesterday evening, the snow began to gently fall right around 4:00, just as I pulled into a parking lot to run a few miles after work. By the time I was half a mile into the run, snow was falling steadily, with a light wind at my back. The cold air somehow made the smell of a dairy farm nearby seem sharper and the herd closer to the road than they were, but the hazy farm with warm cows standing strong in the snow was more of a peaceful sight than stinky distraction.

I don't usually run back to back days, but last night I decided that I was going to wake up and go for a run in the morning. I wanted to try out my new Yak Trax, a Christmas gift from Glenn. I thought I should familiarize myself with the contraption while still coherent, rather than struggling in the dark hours of almost sleep. A wise move, since the directions were foggy at best. After a few attempts I was able to get the Yak Trax on my shoes, and I was ready for the snow.

This morning, I awoke to a wintery display of soft cottony whiteness covering our cul de sac. I quickly got dressed in my winter gear, Glenn took one look at me and muttered something with the word "crazy" in it.

The Yak Trax worked beautifully. I thought I'd be able to feel the metal coils wound beneath the sole that provide the traction, but I couldn't. Those coils gripped into the wintery mixture on the ground and I was able to run more or less normally. My run was a short one - just under two miles - but it felt so invigorating to be out on the streets so early on a snowy morning. My neighbors gave me a few strange looks - one older gentleman even shook his head - and passing cars seemed a bit surprised and put out to have to contend with a crazy woman in neon green trotting through the slush.

I was quickly able to tell which kinds of snowy cover were easier to run through. Packed snow is certainly the easiest, while the thicker dirty slush was like slogging through knee deep oatmeal. My legs felt a bit slow during this run - I guess the resistance of the snow did slow me down a bit - but overall, it was a wonderful way to start my day.

Crazy as I am, I can't wait for another snow storm to bring us enough of that glorious white stuff so I can play with my new toy again!

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOal!

2011-01-11T11:15:00.002-05:00

I began running during the summer of 2006 when my daughter Claire was just a bitty baby. Once or twice a week, I'd get my mommy me-time and despite the heat of a July day, I'd be found running along a wooded trail, the shade from the trees only providing minimal protection from the noonday sun.

Four and a half years later, I am still running. During that time I've raced to half marathons and participated in the Disney Princess Half (which was more photoshoot than actual race). I've run in about ten 5Ks, getting my time under 30 minutes. I've logged 20 miles in a week (once, but still...something I'm proud of). I've run under the hot sun, I've run the day after a blizzard dumped 22 inches of snow on top of 19 inches of snow, I've run til I've chafed the soft parts of my thighs and a blister has formed on my pointer toe.

Despite these running achievements, I've been, at best, a haphazard runner. When I've plunked the money down on a race, I start running in earnest, heading out the door dutifully 3 times a week, noting my mileage and time. When there is no race on my calendar, there is little running in my week.

This year, this will change.

This year, I have goals.

Having goals makes me feel like a real real runner.

My One Big Goal for 2011 is to run 700 miles this year.

Some of you reading that will think - "Oh my goodness! That is a lot of miles! That's like running from Lebanon, PA [where I live] all the way to Savannah!" Which is true...but I have plenty of running friends who have run much farther in a year.

However, that is a lot of miles for me. This past year was the first time that I ever kept track of how many miles I ran - 547 miles. Looking back over the year, there were plenty of months that I logged few miles, weeks that I did not run a single step. I can do better.

Running 700 miles means that I will have to run an average of 2 miles a day...or 14 miles a week (with 2 weeks off)...or 13.5 miles a week for 52 weeks...or 58.3 miles a month (all this math, I did on my last run, heehee).

Is this a tough goal for me? Sure is. I didn't run 58 miles in a single month in 2010. But, that doesn't mean that I can't run that many miles in a month.

Just having my One Big Goal has already helped me in the first 11 days of 2011. I ran on New Year's Day (3.1 miles). On my first running journal week (Monday the 3rd through Sunday the 9th) I ran 13.5 miles. There were a few days that I didn't want to run - especially one cold, dark morning. But in order to make this goal, I have to run when I can, believing that later that day or the next day won't be a good time for me.

16.6 miles down...683.4 miles to go.

Savannah here I come!

jazz hands

2010-12-03T13:19:00.003-05:00

Last night I did something I have never done before: I participated in a fitness class.

Claire attends a tap-ballet class at local studio that offers various exercise classes in addition to feeding the ballerina dreams of countless four year olds. The studio offers busy moms a deal: half off the fitness class that occurs when your prima ballerina is doing the spunky monkey.

Now that winter is here and dark nights are upon us, I thought, "Why the hell not?" After getting Claire to her class (late) and signing her in, paying for December, paying the deposit for her costume for the recital in June, and watching Claire learn a few more steps to the penguin cha cha, I got to the "Combo Aerobics" class 15 minutes late.

I walk in and there's the instructor and 3 older women all doing step-aerobics. Way back in ninth grade, my mom got herself a Step and a VHS tape, and I remember trying it out a couple of times. Twenty years ago.

Apparently, I'm in a time warp. But, I've paid my 2 bucks, so I set up a step and join in.

Holy goodness! The great thing about running is that anyone can do it and few people (Phoebe from Friends aside) look ridiculous attempting to run. The same can not be said of step-aerobics. This involves the need for coordination, something that the Good Lord forgot to give me my share of on the day He created me. I struggle along, just smiling to myself at how ridiculous I look in the wall of mirrors...and then...

Jazzercize.

I didn't know people still did that! But in this class, you do four minutes of step, then four minutes of jazzercize inspired "jogging". If the Good Lord forgot to give me coordination, He certainly forgot to give me any sense of timing, rhythm, or grace. After a minute, I gave up on the cute, jazzy kicky thing the 4 post-menopausal ladies were succeeding at (and looking good, too! I decided then & there, I want to be that fit when I'm their age). I just jogged in place, giving an occasional kick when I felt I could do so without falling over.

A few times I nearly tripped over my step. Most of the minutes I was doing the exact opposite of what the other four ladies were doing, all the while rocking out to "We Are Family" and "Mama Mia".

But, I did get my heart rate up and it was a good cardio workout in the bright safety of an exercise studio. I think I found a way to keep my fitness up during the long, dark winter.

winter wishes

2010-12-02T12:32:00.006-05:00

It's the most wonderful time of the year - when all our greedy desires no longer have to be hidden behind polite faces, but can be blazoned in lights bright enough to reach all the way to the North Pole so that the jolly old man up there can put all those goodies on his sleigh.

My two oldest daughters have crafted their Christmas Wish List. Rachel's been working on hers for at least 2 months now, the feature desire being some fancy cell phone with a touch screen and a QWERTY keyboard. Sarah is less thoughtful, drafting her list on scraps of paper or napkins (which get lost), and then asking me, "What is it I want again?" Claire mostly summarizes her list as "Santa will bring me LOTS of presents, I'll get more than anyone. And he can bring me whatever he thinks will make me happy."

So, it is in this holiday spirit that I offer up my Greedy Desires Wish List.

1. A really cute running skirt.
I saw the one I want, a cute orange paisley creation, at the Disney Princess Half Marathon Expo last March, but didn't fork over the $40 for it since I was spending all my money on my bitty Princess Claire. I can't find that skirt online, but I did find a funky green one and sent my Mr. Claus the link.

2. YakTrax.
Last winter we were hammered with 3 blizzards in 16 days while I was trying to train for the Disney Princess Half...unable to run outside, I took to walking the cul de sac in endless circles in all my snow gear, causing Glenn to wonder about my sanity (and his for marrying me). This winter, we might not get a flake of snow, but I want to be ready with these babies to strap on to my shoes and get some miles in.

3. A fitness membership.
Another option to the YakTrax would be the ability to go to a gym and run on their treadmill, free of snow, dark, danger, ice and distracted drivers. And, I could get some strength training in too, something I haven't really been able to do for a few years.

4. My very own treadmill.
Even better, would be my own dreadmill to jump on when the weather outside is frightful. Of course, there would still be the frightful children to deal with, which I wouldn't have to do at the gym...hhhmmmm...

5. An orange iPod shuffle.
Running on a dreadmill can be quite boring, so to pass the time, I'd love a little shuffle, one that clips on to my clothes while I run. Then I can listen to some tunes or some podcasts. When I run outside, I mostly run alongside roads, and it just isn't safe to block out reality with music...but there are those few times when I'm on a long trail and a little musical distraction would be lovely.

6. A bigger home, in which to place the new treadmill.
I have a very lovely, warm, safe, happy home...but there is just no extra space for a dreadmill. Santa would need to put a set of keys and a deed in my stocking, so that I could actually set up my dreadmill and run upon it. Thank you, Santa.

7. Entry into the Boston Marathon.
That is my biggest, greedy desire: a racing bib that allows me to run through my hometown State, chug up Heartbreak Hill, and throw my arms up in victory as I trot through Copley Square on my way to the finish line.

This is a "if money were no object" kind of list, though of course money is the very object I'd need for all of them...oh well. I'd be very happy to receive #1 and enjoy the happy squeals of my children as Rachel gets her phone (not a touch screen, though), Sarah gets clothes from Hollister and Justice, and Claire has the most presents under the tree because hers are the cheapest.

Merry Christmas!!

my Bunny

2010-11-11T07:05:00.002-05:00

From a 4 year old's perspective, every game is about winning. When we play Candy Land or Go Fish or Scooby Doo Memory, I don't let Claire win every time, but I don't try that hard to win myself. If she wins she is thrilled and if I win she is, well, learning to be a gracious loser.

Which is why my races confuse Claire a bit. She knows - and loves - that I run. She'll make pictures or Cootie Bugs of runners because "mommy is a runner" (my heart expands each time she says it). On my thrice-weekly runs, I am a runner, and there is no one else out there with me, so I always win, and time means little to a 4 year old, so telling her I rocked out a 9:52 minute pace means even less.

However, Claire does love going to my races and cheering for me - she's a great cheerleader! This past weekend's race, Claire was going to be with her daddy all weekend and Claire was quite disappointed that she wasn't going to be there to yell, "Yay, Mommy!"

As soon as I picked her up on Tuesday, she asked me, "Did you win your race, Mommy?" I told her nope. "Well, did you come in second?" Nope again. "Well," she persisted, "what place did you come in?" And I told her, "I came in seven hundred and twelfth place."

And beaming at me from her car seat, my Bunny said, "Oh, Mommy, I am so proud of you! You did so well!"

That made me smile...but the thing is, Claire really means it. The next day I was on the phone with a friend who asked how I did in the race and I was describing the race, and Claire was behind me bouncing, "Tell her how well you did, Mommy, tell her what place you got!"

I am not a fast runner and I will never finish at the top of my age division, but in my Bunny's eyes I am the best - and that is the best!

at the end of the Disney Princess Half in March, me & the Bunny

doing it amish style

2010-11-09T13:07:00.000-05:00

I had set 4 goals for my second (real) half marathon, the Amish Country Bird-in-Hand Half Marathon, which I ran this past Saturday. Three time goals (Good - under 2:30; Better - 2:25; Best - 2:20) and one untimed goal (since that's what Runner's World told me to do, and they are my running Gospel) which was to take walk breaks as soon as I felt the need, but to keep those breaks to under a minute (usually I run til I can't take another step, then walk for 2 minutes).

The night before my race, I had one of those anxiety dreams that often happen before an important event, like when you dream you're giving your big presentation naked. I wasn't running naked, but in the dream I kept taking bags of M&Ms from these personless hands. Just before I left the house on my way to Lancaster County, I grabbed a "fun size" M&M bag from Claire's Halloween pumpkin - it's best to listen to the running gods when they speak.

I parked my car in the Smuckers Farm field (don't know if it's that Smuckers...) and had to watch out for cow pies. I could see the starting line from my car and after standing around in the cold (35*) for ten minutes, I went back to my car for warmth and relief.

There is one important pre-race thought I'd like to share. Never stand in the port-a-potty line at the start of a race. It's pointless. The line is always ridiculously long and by the time you get into that tiny space, you are facing one of the most disgusting scenes ever viewed. Instead, I hearkened back to the car trips of my youth, and at my car I opened both doors on the driver's side, thus making a little private space for me. I peed right next to a cow pie - hey if cows can poop here, I can pee here.

I stayed in my warm car until I'd watched nearly every other entrant walk over to the starting area, then I joined them. As I bounced in the cold morning air, I remembered my M&Ms, safely stowed in my throw-it-away thrift store sweatshirt. My stomach hadn't been feeling awesome - I'd had to force down my PB toast, a feat that took me 45 minutes to complete. But as soon as I ate those bright bits of chocolaty heaven, my belly purred like a content kitty. Thank you, running gods!

After a bit of delay, the race started. I wished I'd had my camera for this race. The scenery was truly awe-inspiring. The roads wound themselves through farm fields, browned grass matted down by tractors and held together with frost. The broken ends of corn stalks stuck up in little patchwork spots in between where Amish homes welcomed and Holstein cows grazed. The sky was that sort of delicate blue shade that occurs only in the early hours of a cold morning, and the clouds were still tinged pink and purple with the escaping dawn.

The landscape was rolling, and at the top of each hill (that I conquered!! woohoo to loads of hill training!) my soul leaped at the incredible beauty that reached for miles. If there is one word I can think of to describe this race, it is peaceful. That's not normally a word used when describing a half marathon, but this one was just that. Not only the scenery contributed to that scenes of calm, but the welcoming support of dozens and dozens of Amish families added to this peace. I hadn't expected a lot of crowd support for this race (nestled in a community of 3000), but at many of the farms, parents held sleepy toddlers and young children held out their hands for high fives (yup, even the Amish give a high five!). Each of the water stops were filled with Amish volunteers, plain and beautiful.

I stayed where I expected to run - at the back of the back, my peeps. At one point in the race, four miles in, I crested a hill and looked off in the distance and could see a long, thin snake of runners weaving their way through the farms, several miles ahead of me. That might have been discouraging to some, but all I felt was a sense of coming accomplishment: I was running stronger than I'd even felt before and I knew that this was going to be my race. I don't know my mile-split times, but I hit the four mile mark at 40:06, and I maintained a 10 minute-ish pace for most of the race (mile 7 was a slow one, and mile 12...).

The sixth mile marker was at the start of the biggest of the hills on this rolling race and when I glanced at my watch I actually whooped in joy: 1:00:42! Nearly half way through the race and doing way better than my hoped for goal time. I knew that I was going to finish in 2:20...maybe even better! Tears stung my eyes as I passed several people up that hill (who over took me a few minutes later...my energy surge from my joy was short lived).

When I'd driven through the farms the day before the race on my way to packet-pickup with Claire, all she could say was, "Pee Yew Cows." When I'd told her I'd be running my race on this very road, she said, "Well, I hope you can hold your breath for a long time because it is stinky." Maybe it was the chill in the air or the fantastic mood, but even the cows smelled better!

Mile 10 took us straight through the heart of a farm on one of their access roads (normally off-limits to the public), a nice gravelly road which my body loved after all the hard pounding on the pavement. The last few miles were flattish ones, and I finally started to overtake a few of my fellow runners. The last mile was really tough, though; my legs were getting tired and lifting them began to feel like work (the first 10 or 11 miles, that was all play).

At mile 12, when I looked at my time I couldn't believe it - 2:02! I was definitely going to make my Best Goal of 2:20...and this is where the mental side of running comes in. All the miles leading up to that last one, that was all my body: using all the training I had done over the weeks to prepare myself, listening to what my body needed - stretch now, sip now, feeling the strength in my legs. That last mile, The Voice came in and said, "Good job! You are so tired, why not just walk this last mile, you'll still make 2:20 or so." And my legs said, "Wow, that is a great idea!" and they began to slow down all on their own and groan with how tired they were.

But The Runner replied back, "Are you nuts? I don't want 2:20 any more. I want 2:15 and I'm going for it, nothing less than that." I had to focus on every step, if my mind wandered, my body started to feel the pain of 13 miles and slow down. At one point, I allowed myself a 30 second walk break, i wasn't sure how much further I had to run...turns out, it was only another 1/4 mile or so.

I turned down the last lane towards the finish line, I could see the food tent set up, see the all the cars parked in the cow pasture, and my kick came in. I always have a good strong finish - somewhere deep within, once my body can see that finish line, my legs take over.

At this race, they announced your name as you crossed the finish line - a very cool touch! I crossed the finish line, saw my time, and with both fists pumping in the air, I shouted, "Yes! Yes! Yes! I did it!!"

2:15:25

A volunteer put my medal around my neck...and I started to cry. None of my family were able to be there this day, and I hadn't realized just how much I wanted to share this accomplishment with the love of my life, until I looked at the crowd and did not see his face smiling back at me with wild pride.

When I finally made my way back home, I managed a second great accomplishment in my day: my first-ever omelet that actually was an omelet (usually I make "broken omelets", aka scrambled eggs with stuff in them).

Later on in the day, Glenn and I went out to celebrate my PR in the way we know best: hot Buffalo wings and cold beer!

game time

2010-11-01T11:49:00.002-04:00

I've got six days (counting today) until my next half marathon, the one that I want to really try hard at, to see how well I can do, to challenge myself.

I was getting a bit worried about this race, wondering if I was truly ready to run it, especially when my longest run went so badly (read here). My training isn't where I'd want it to be (which, I think, is the motto of the amateur runner: lately, I've read the same sentiment on 3 runner friends' blogs/status updates). Ideally, I'd have logged several runs more than 10 miles, and all my training reach was one 10 miler.

And yet, I'm feeling pretty confident going in to these last few days before the race. My run on Friday left me flying high - it was a hill workout that was challenging but didn't leave me struggling; in fact, I wished I'd had more time to run a few more miles, but a Go Fish game with Claire had me leaving the house a little later than I wanted and Family Dinner Out Night had me heading home wanting more.

In a way, I think, I am just where I should be in my training - I'm healthy, have no injuries, and I know that my body can do the mileage of this race. I'm making my race day check list, I'm worrying about the weather, and I'm thinking that 2:25 is totally do-able, so why not 2:20?

even if i'm last

2010-10-24T08:18:00.003-04:00

The old joke goes: What do you call the person who graduated at dead last in their class at med school? DOCTOR.

Yesterday's long run was designed to show me what I can reasonably expect of myself in my upcoming half marathon on November 6th. The Amish Half is a very hilly course - last year I biked some of those roads in the MS Bike Ride and let me tell you, those hills are constant and fierce. Up down, up up up level up some more...tough on a bike for this newbie. But, I was feeling fairly confident of running this course.

The goal I had set for myself in this race was to finish in 2:20, maybe - dare I hope for it? - 2:15. This was a real, achievable goal, I thought, when I set it two months ago. Then, I lost a couple weeks of training, and after a painful return to running doing 7 miles in the hilly and beautiful Valley Forge Park, I thought, "Uh oh."

Yesterday, I drove away from my flat neighborhood and headed to the hillier part of the county. The topography matches Lancaster County, and I thought, this run will let me know what I'm reasonably capable of. The first 5 miles were good enough - even if I didn't run all the way up the non-stop hills, I kept my walks to less than a minute. I was feeling strong. I took my gu at the right time, was hydrating well. A good run. That all fell apart.

Suddenly, my legs just didn't want to go too much more. A little more than an hour in, and everywhere I looked was an uphill and my quads were cursing me with words that would make a trucker blush. I realized that I was delusional when setting a 2:20 goal and a 2:15 hope. In fact, I was delusional to think that I should even race in 2 weeks. Better, I thought, that I delay my registration til next year. I quit. In my head, I was done. Not prepared to run the race I wanted, just not gonna do it.

That thought process lasted for about 2 minutes...maybe it would have lasted longer if I had any clue where in God's country I was and just how close to my car...but I was several miles from anything, so I couldn't quit running at that moment. And then I thought, "Well, someone's got to come in last." Maybe that someone is me. While that may sound like Loser Lurgy, really it was comforting. There's no reason to quit. My goal just needed to be adjusted (and thank you Runner's World for your November issue whose theme is just that).

I plugged on, taking walk breaks every 7-9 minutes, a slow little turtle trot. I began to enjoy the incredibly beautiful scenery again. Blue sky blanketed the rolling farms, Holstein cows out grazing, the stumps of corn stalks poking like a five o'clock shadow out of the dusty fields.

My cranky hip decided it had enough my last mile or so. And then I remembered. I'm not sure how these words didn't stick with my my whole run, but they were said and then instantly lost. Just as I began my ten miles, a woman in her 40s in a motorized cart was out with her dog, moving along the opposite side of the street for me. As she saw me, I did that courtesy flip wave, and she said to me, "Wish I was doing that."

Wish I was doing that. Too many people's bodies won't let them enjoy the simple freedom of walking down an autumn street, never mind attempt the challenge of a ten mile run on a Saturday morning. I was humbled, no, chastened, for my quitter's thoughts.

Later that night, Glenn told me that if I want a 2:20 then I have to run my half as a runner who will get a 2:20. And he's right. I love his confidence in me and the way he pushes me to be the best person I can.

This morning, I read this quote on my friend Heather's facebook page (she's aiming for a 1:50 half time this morning).

"It's very hard in the beginning to understand that the whole idea is not to beat the other runners. Eventually you learn that the competition is against the little voice inside you that wants you to quit".- George Sheehan

Ain't that the truth? I might be last in my upcoming half...but I will be out there, trotting and running, hoping for a 2:20, thankful for the health and strength in my body and the limits I can push myself to.

memory lane - my first half marathon

2010-10-21T11:52:00.000-04:00

As I prepare to run my third half marathon, I thought I'd take a trip down memory lane about my first distance race...

The BackStory

I signed up for the Philadelphia (half) Marathon on November 23rd, 2008 and gave myself about 7 weeks to train for it. Though I'd been running for a while, I'd only had a few really long runs before I signed up. And, then after I signed up, as life always has it for me, I hadn't logged too much running the first 2 or 3 weeks of "training". I got a cold, I started dating an awesome guy (who is now my awesome husband), my boss left for 3 months of FMLA...the excuses piled up and I wasn't running.

I was starting to get nervous that I was going to be walking ten of the 13 miles and wasting my extravagant entry fee ($100!!!!) ~ and disappointing myself and the goal I've had for 2 years to run a half...

In order to get some running in, I'd have to do so from work. I mapped out a route to travel through the Philly neighborhoods of Wynnefield and Overbrook. It was a 2.5 mile loop and for a week I walked it every day. Then, I started running the 2.5 miles on my lunch break a few times a week, but running nothing longer than that. I still had a LONG way to go to make 13 miles seem do-able...however, I was feeling really good and my time was reasonably ok too (I usually run a 11:20 mile and these runs had me at a 10:50 mile).

Finally, about three weeks before the race, I got back out for a long run, and I was so anxious to see how I'd do, kind of to take stock of where I was for this half. Well, I ran 9 miles in 1:38 and I am thrilled! I actually shaved 8 minutes off my time from my last 9 mile run a month ago. Progress!

RaceDay

My goal time was to run the half in 2:30 ~ and I beat my goal time!!! I ran in 2:25:33!!! Well, officially I ran 2:33:48, but I waited for 8 minutes at a port-a-potty stop to pee. Next time I don't care how cold it is, I'm just peeing next to a building like the guys did.

The Race Day was totally awesome! My parents and nieces drove down from Massachusetts, and with my daughter cheered for me at the half way point, complete with signs and t-shirts that read "Team Jill."

Glenn got up with me at 5:00 am to drive me to Philly in 23 degree weather, and stood at the start/finish line for me. We were newly dating and he HATES driving in big cities, so that tells you just what a great guy he is.

And a new friend of mine, her hubby, and daughter drove from Delaware to Philly and were at the finish line! It was so great to have people I care about there to be proud of me.

The spectators out there were a pretty quiet and frozen bunch. It was about 28 degrees at start time and was 36 when I got back to the car at 10 am. Everyone was silently shivering (conserving energy I'm sure ~ it was FREEZING!), all except for a group of fraternity brothers who were outside their house bright and early (with beer) and banging on pots and pans. Every time the spectators cheered, it really did give me (and the other runners) such a boost and pick-me-up. I wish there had been better crowd support.

It was so pretty to be running through Philadelphia that early in the morning: I remember I turned up one street and saw the skyline all lit up with the early rising sun, golden and pink reflected on the buildings, and it was breathtaking! It was cold, sometimes the road was icy and dangerous...but it was AWESOME!! 3 years ago I couldn't have run a mile...and now I just ran 13!

After the race, when we were all back at my home and getting ready to go out for a celebratory lunch, my 2 1/2 year old angel said to me, "Mommy, I so proud of you!"

no excuses

2010-09-25T17:43:00.005-04:00

My best friend Pat had a saying a while back when he was busy changing his lifestyle and losing weight, "NO EXCUSES." No excuses to cut a workout short. No excuses to order fries not salad. No excuses to skip a trip to the gym.

Of all the weeks for excuses, this was one for me.

My training plan had me on for a Tues run of 3 miles, Thurs run of 5, and Sat run of 7 miles. Monday, however, I was in a fender bender which gave me a mild case of whiplash. There would be no run on Tuesday. By Thursday, I was feeling better, but I didn't want to push it and had limited time: 2 miles was all I could do. Last night, my allergies acted up in a big way and I managed to get about 4 hours of sleep. Today was super busy with kids games and work, and I was exhausted and my eyes & nose were a faucet.

By the time 4:00 rolled around you could've stuck a fork in me, I was done.

No excuses.

So, on went the running gear and I munched a handful of M&Ms. Then Glenn and I set out for a run (he did the first 2 miles with me; aside: I so love running with my husband! My pace is slow because I'm just chattering away and he's like, "Stop talking!").

At 2 miles, Glenn turned around for home and I plugged on. I mapped out a new route through a development and I came to this spot where I could take the easy way out and log just under 5, or I could push it. No excuses. I did the loop.

All in all, I ran 6 miles on a day when few would've done so. Car accident. No sleep. Kids with games. Work. Plenty of reasons not to run. Except, Jill L. is a runner. And I've got just enough crazy to run even when my battery is empty.

IN YOUR FACE!

2010-09-16T09:49:00.002-04:00

Runners have a love/hate relationship with hills. We love how we feel when we get to the top - such a fantastic accomplishment that driving around in the cool comfort of your car hides from you. We love how strong we know our legs are getting, pounding up a steep grade. But, we HATE them - we hate how much harder they make us work, how we huff, how we struggle, how our stride goes from gazelle to gopher.

Runners respect hills so much that we even name them. Hills in major races get named by the runners who strive up them towards the finish line, like Heartbreak Hill on the Boston Marathon. But we name even the hills that are around our homes, the hills we are so familiar with we know each pothole, the dog at each home along the way. A friend of mine has named the hills she runs on in Central Park "Hell Hill." I've run that one with her, and the name is well deserved.

My hill is called by me the "Big Ass Hill."

Big Ass Hill is a long, slow half mile of a pretty steep grade through a beautiful McMansion subdevelopment near my cul-de-sac. It begins 1.6 miles from my front door and goes up, and up, and up, and then levels of so that it's almost flat (but not) and then goes up til the road ends.

This summer, in the high heat and humidity, I avoided Big Ass since it was tough enough to breathe in the thick, sweat air on the flat roads along the corn and dairy farms.

But now, it's time to run her again. I signed up for the Amish Half Marathon, a scenic 13 mile run up and down and up and down the large rolling hills through Lancaster...hills are in my future.

Last week I attempted to run up Big Ass Hill - and she beat me. I couldn't do it. My legs and lungs gave out half way up...

...but this morning, I conquered her. I ran up Big Ass Hill and then, just to show her that *I* am the boss, I did hill repeats on the steepest 0.1 of Big Ass. In your face!

the Fonz

2010-09-07T11:12:00.003-04:00

When I run, I often look like The Fonz.

I don't mean that I resemble Arthur Fonzerelli, white t-shirt and leather jacket and super awesome hairstyle. Actually, if Fonzie were to need to run for some reason (though, most certainly he wouldn't run, but saunter down the road) but if he did, you can be sure that Fonzie would do so in the most cool manner possible - I bet he could even pull of running 26.2 without breaking a sweat in that jacket of his.

Nope. There's nothing that exudes "cool" or "trend-setter" when I run.

When I run, my hands take on the Fonzie pose. Passing cars must think I'm a stumbling, trotting hitchhiker, my right hand always out there, looking for some Good Samaritan to take pity on my huffing & puffing self and load me into the cool interior of their back seat, saving myself from having to make my way back home.

When I become conscience of that I am channeling my inner-Fonzie, I try to make my thumbs behave normally, but that makes the rest of my arms behave weirdly. Then I run like I've just been given these 2 new limbs to try out, and they are all wavy and floppy and I don't seem to know what to do with them.

So, if you see me turtle-trotting down the road, thumb out, know this: I'm not trying to bum a ride. I'm just saying, "Aaaaaaayyyyy."

sshhhh...be very, very quiet, i'm hunting...

2010-08-19T09:33:00.002-04:00

I think I'm very close to capturing the elusive Ms. Mojo. I caught a glimpse of her Tuesday morning while I was running, and all day yesterday she haunted my thoughts like a desire for chocolate cake - only better (running doesn't make you worry about your thighs like a nice, moist hunk of dark cake will).

When Glenn got home from work, I did something I rarely, rarely do - I ran back to back days. I didn't run much on Tuesday, and that run left me feeling both elated, satisfied and still wanting, panting for more. Yesterday was a deliciously cool day...so I went out for a run.

And there I came across her, my mojo. She's still a bit shy - after all, I'd been ignoring her for a while. But I think she's ready to come home.

And I'm ready to run again today. I won't go, I don't want to do too much too fast...but I've got that longing ache in my soul to be out there, sweating and trotting along the side of the road, just me and the wind.

where has all my mojo gone?

2010-08-17T08:05:00.000-04:00

Geesh. You think I could be a grown-up and get out there and do my runs because 1. I crazy love running (I do) 2. it's so good for me and 3. I'm a runner. But no. I actually have to have a race that I'm signed up for to get out there and make it happen.

In the past month, I've run a handful of times. I ran 1.8 miles a few days after pacing my friend Tara at her ultra, I ran twice the following week (3.1 miles a piece), ten days later I ran in the Epilepsy 5K Race with a slow 5k time (31:14). That last run was nine days ago...

I'm feeling flabby fat and lazy...something that my belated honeymoon cruise to Bermuda didn't exactly help with (fancy French food every dinner, full-fat breakfasts, sushi every evening...). Though I had every intention of running while on the cruise - I even said so to Glenn at least twice, "I want to run tomorrow and need to do that in the morning" - still, nothing.

So, I'm finding a fall race and signing up.

Who ever said running was cheaper than a gym membership was dead wrong. Or *WAY* more type A than I am, because I need a goal to push myself towards. Apparently, that goal will either be a race on October 2nd or one November 6th, both of which go through the lolling hills of Lancaster County, past Amish farms and other quaint sights.

I'm looking for my mojo. If you see her, please send her home. I went out this morning and ran around the neighborhood, trying to find her, and I swear, I caught a glimpse of her heels, kicking in high glee just ahead of me fading in and out of the fog as I chased her.

a missed run

2010-08-05T08:11:00.002-04:00

This morning, I missed my run. Actually, I haven't run all week, but this morning was the first day that I had made a plan to run, rather than doing the "if you wish it, you will run" philosophy. I woke up at 6:15 and lay there slowly easing into being awake, letting the last vestiges of a dream seep away. I climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb Glenn, grabbed my running clothes and shoes, opened the door and saw...

Claire.

Standing there in her Ariel jammies, sleepy smile on her face and a book, Watch Your Whiskers, Geronimo Stilton, in her hand. "Read this to me, mommy," she said.

I told her I was going for a run, it's very early, and she should go back to bed. So, she climbed in while I was in the bathroom, changing...and thinking...

I crept into Claire's room and snuggled up to her on the bed. And as I lay there, I realized this would be my last morning for a while that I would get to snuggle her. Tonight, Claire goes back to her daddy's house for 3 weeks, the rest of the summer custody schedule. I'm going to miss these chances to snuggle her, and not just over the next few weeks...Claire's doesn't wake up hardly at all (knock on wood) for snuggles any more.

So, I snuggled my Bunny. And missed my run. This means that my hope of going sub-29 for my 5K race on Saturday is out the window (too many missed runs) and I probably won't run sub-30 either. But, I got some good snuggly love in with my daughter and that is even better for the soul than a run.

Oh, and if you'd like to make a donation, I'm running for the Epilepsy Foundation on Saturday. My friends have a beautiful little girl who is 6 years old and has epilepsy. When she was a baby, the doctors removed the right side of her brain to diminish the severity of the seizures. She's a sweet, mischievous little girl and a nice playmate of Claire's. If you've got $5, you can give it here.

the let down reflex

2010-07-27T10:57:00.003-04:00

I am experiencing let down.

That post-running event malaise that comes over any runner once they run the race that has been marked on their calendar for months and has loomed in their minds with a capital R.

My capital-R race wasn't even one that I paid an entry fee for. However, it was the race that divided my summer into two halves, before the Lone Ranger when I'd be pacing Tara and after the race. Before the race, I was consistently running, making sure to log plenty of miles each week, to run at a good pace, to take few walk breaks, all so that I could be a helpful, worthwhile pacer (not a slow, lazy pacer who was an annoying slug next to the speedy hundred mile gal). After the race...well, there isn't anything on the calendar except a weekend trip to Massachusetts and a honeymoon in Bermuda (which isn't to say, I'm not extremely, fantastically excited for my belated honeymoon, because I am: pink sands, turquoise waters, mai tais, long walks with the love of my life...perfection). I guess I should say, there is no Next Race on the calendar.

So, I've run twice since the Lone Ranger, a 1.8 mile run and this mornings 3.1. Not much.

I guess even this relaxed runner needs a purpose, otherwise I move beyond relaxed and into sloth.

So, I'm signing up for a 5K race - the Epilepsy Run/Walk - in Harrisburg on August 7th. I'll get to support a cause that is important in the life of some friends whose little girl has epilepsy. And I've given myself a new goal.

Sub-29.

Think I can do it?

The Lone Ranger gets by with a little help from her friends

2010-07-23T07:58:00.003-04:00

A few months ago, Tara, a "virtual" friend of mine (i.e. someone I only know via online, social networking sites), planned on coming to Philadelphia to participate in an ultra race and she needed some runners to pace her. I signed on for this gig, even though I had little idea what "pacing" someone really meant.

In the last few weeks before the race, the 20in24 Lone Ranger Ultra Marathon, things started to get real. Real, as in I'd agreed to run 16 miles with Tara even though my longest runs ever in my entire life were 13 miles. Real, as in someone was depending on me to run long enough and possibly fast enough so that she'd make her goal (running 100 miles). This was a bit scary for me, since I generally run only for me, and I'm a bit of a slacker. Tara is no slacker. (Here's Tara's own blog...)

However, on Friday July 16th, I wandered the house gathering all sorts of items I'd agreed to bring to the race: a scale, pompoms, hydrogen peroxide, scissors, markers, chairs, blankets, coolers, a foam roller, pillows...My car was packed to the gills with so much stuff that neighbors must have thought I was preparing for an apocalyptic event rather than camping along the banks of the Schuylkill River.

When I met Tara, I was so excited - here, in the flesh, was my virtual friend! She sounded just like I thought she would and was just as cool in person as she seemed online. I also got to meet Bethany, captain of Team Ultara (our pacing/support team), and Anna, a good friend and fellow relaxed runner. The four of us went over gear and race strategy, had a pasta dinner, and went to bed early.

By 8 am on Saturday, the four of us were setting up camp behind the Philly Art Museum. Up went our tent, we unloaded all our gear, and killed time until it was close enough for the race to start. Finally, Tara took off running, and Team Ultara had about 75 minutes of time to kill.

Honestly, I think I was pretty disorganized as a support person for Tara's first 2 laps. I wasn't expecting Tara - this funny, smart, laughing person - to transform into this lean, mean running machine. Man, was I impressed! Tara flew in to the transition area, told us what she needed and was gone before I could count to 21. In fact, on lap 2, Tara didn't even stop for fuel, water, electrolytes - she just kept running!

But, by lap 3 Bethany, Anna, and I had our assignments. We decided zone defense was our best offense. Bethany's role was to QB - talk to Tara, find out about fuel and needs. Anna was on water duty. My role was to get Tara to drink her Ensure and refill her electrolytes. Truthfully, we were pretty awesome at it! Like a well oiled pit crew, changing tires and getting our racing machine back out there to burn rubber (ok, I've mixed quite a few metaphors, but you get what I'm saying).

Tara is such a fighter! She often has to battle a wonky stomach, and the heat and some hidden gluten had her insides all messed up. She looked like hell after lap 3 - like she'd run about 70 miles instead of 24. I couldn't imagine her running in that condition for another 20 miles, never mind her goal of 80 more. But, once her stomach settled down, she just dug in and ran on. And on. And on!

As I soon discovered, there are two sides of being on an ultra runner's team: the pacing side, and the support side. The support side is what I've been describing - checking on nutrition, water intake, asking about blisters or chafing. Then there is the actual running with your runner, the pacing.

I was Tara's third pacer of the day and got to run with her at about 9 o'clock at night. Pro: it's dark and the heat is seeping away. Con: it's my bedtime.

I'd been practicing pacing in my head for the last couple of weeks. Each time I'd run, I'd pretend I was with Tara, and asking her questions. "Did you take your electrolyte tablet?" "How many calories do you need this loop?" "What do you want in your handheld?" I had to get myself ready to run with the focus not on me and my body, but on Tara and her body.

Turns out, Tara sort of hit the wall on my lap. Which is to be expected. She'd been running for 11 hours straight, no breaks. Other Lone Rangers would run a lap, hang out in the air conditioned exhibit hall or at their tent site, then do another lap. Tara, she planned to be on her feet, moving forward, for 24 hours straight. No stopping.

This lap was one of Tara's longest, timewise. We walked quite a bit, especially while she was eating. At one of the aid stations, Tara wanted Coke in her water bottle and the volunteer was so confused. Tara kept saying "I want Coke" and the volunteer would say, "Gatorade or water?" over and over again. The volunteer filled a dixie cup with an inch of Coke and set it in front of Tara, and then looked at me with this expression like "your runner is losing it" and asked me if she should put water or Gatorade in the water bottle. "COKE" I said, and then explained to the incredulous volunteer, "Coke has calories and caffeine. It's what ultra runners need."

I have to say, running at night in Philadelphia was pretty cool. We were running along the Schuylkill River, with Boathouse Row all lit up, sparkling in the cool night air, a gorgeous quarter moon hung low in the sky a lovely harvest gold color. Generally, Philly isn't safe enough to run in Fairmont Park at night, so this truly was a unique experience. I even saw two hookers and their pimps, who looked a bit put out by all the lights, runners, and volunteers on bikes, scaring away the johns.

Tara and I kept going over the math in our heads: how many miles she had yet to go to reach 100, how many hours she had yet to accomplish this task. The math said she had it nailed, with up to 2 hours to spare.

When my lap with Tara was done, I passed her off to Anna, explaining how Tara was doing (feeling really tired and not wanting to eat). Tara's watch had died and she wanted her back-up which was at the campsite. She and Anna took off running, I hauled our refueling gear from the transition area to the campsite, found the watch, and jogged off to find them. I mean, how fast can one girl run after already completing 67 miles? Turns out, pretty fast! I had to sprint for about half a mile to catch up with them, blowing by a few younger guys, who were impressed with my super speed. When I turned back around to head to the camp, they were shocked that I ran all that way just to pass off a watch..."it's for my runner" I said, feeling very proud of Tara.

Then, I went to the hotel for a nap. When I woke up at 4:30 and checked in with Bethany, she reported that Tara was on lap 11, at the three mile mark, and her feet were killing her. They were going to stop at mile 4 where there was a small medical aid station to check out her feet. The good news: no blisters. The bad news: Tara's feet hurt so much she couldn't run at all. They walked. At mile 5 they called me to come pick up Tara - we had to get her to the main medical tent because something had gone very wrong with her feet.

There we were at the medical tent, ice bags surrounding her feet, and the doctors told Tara she was done. She had contusions on the bottoms of both her feet. "But I'm in 3rd place," Tara said, "Do you think I can go back out and walk?" They looked at her like she was nutz. Doctor #2 said, "If you were repeatedly hitting your head on the wall and your head hurt, what would you do?" "Stop hitting my head," Tara said dejectedly. "Yeah, but," Bethany chimed in, "if you were in 3rd place in the Hitting Your Head contest, you might do it one or two more times, right?"

When the doctors became more involved with another runner, Team Ultara made our getaway. I drove Tara back to the 5 mile mark, dropped her off at 6:55 am - she still had 3 hours to go and even walking slowly could finish several more miles. Tara had on my flipflops, the biggest shoes we had for her tender feet. She took mincing, little steps with Bethany on one side, Anna on the other. I parked a mile away...30 minutes later, Tara arrived at mile 6. I was thrilled with the time she was making. I whooped and hollered...I joined the Team as we walked with Tara. I read to her all the texts I'd received from our awesome Running Moms group, and Tara laughed at their outrageously loving support of her.

Each step was a battle for Tara. We knew that 3rd place was gone. We knew that 100 miles was gone, too. But even knowing this, Tara kept going. Step. Step. She wouldn't quit. When walking became difficult, she actually crawled in the grass along the path, giving true life to the Dean Karnazes quote, "Run when you can. Walk when you must. Crawl if you have to. Just never give up.”

After walking with Tara for half a mile, I ran back to the car and drove it to find another spot to park, just in case. And about ten minutes later, I got the call from Anna, "Tara's done. Come get her."

Part of me felt such sadness over this, Tara's goal that she trained for over 5 months, her dream of 100 miles in under 24 hours set aside. And yet, I was in complete awe of her - her determination, her courage, her faith in herself, her strength and will.

Final tally: 92.5 miles in 22 hours.

Running off the beaten path

2010-07-21T08:43:00.000-04:00

Recently, I participated in the following exchange at a sporting goods store in Harrisburg.

Me to young girl working behind the counter: Do you have Gu?

Young girl: What? Goo?

Me: Do you have Gu or, um, Clif Shots?

Young girl: Shots? (I could almost see the thought bubble over her head, like in a cartoon, with a tequila bottle and a shot glass next to it, maybe sitting in a sticky pool of mysterious goo.)

Me (now rather frustrated): No, not goo - you know, energy gels. For running. Gu.

Young girl: Oh, those things in packets? No, we had a box but it expired so we threw it out.

That, in a nutshell, is what it's like doing a specialized activity in the heart of Pennsylvania. I'd made a special trip to this local chain sporting goods store in Harrisburg because I was pretty sure that the smaller stores in my hometown wouldn't have anything specialized. I'd once made a trip in my town to the sporting store for running socks, but the closest they had were "cotton" socks for working out.

In my previous life - when I didn't get the chance to run alongside gorgeous cornfields after stepping out my front door - there was a running store 5 blocks from me. And another running store 10 minutes away. And another running store 25 minutes away. Filled with dozens of pairs of running shoes and knowledgeable staff who knew about which shoe to give an over-pronator with well-defined arches and plenty of options for fuel from gels to chews to bars.

But now, running - and all the gear, the shoes, the clothes, the energy gels - that accompany this sport I've fallen in love with - is a unique pastime, not well understood or supported off the beaten path. Trade-off: no running stores, but running with corn. Not bad, really.

ice ice baby...

2010-07-10T19:44:00.002-04:00

Last weekend, after my long run of 6.5 miles, I decided that I wanted to do an ice bath.

Now, to most of the population, let's say 99.2%, the above statement sounds so ludicrous, like an anti-sado-masochistic form of self-torture (anti, because there can be no pleasure found sitting in an ice bath, can there?).

Of the remaining 0.8% of the population, 0.6% shudder knowingly, nod their heads, and understand. The other 0.2% I think actually enjoy ice baths. There have to be a few real wackos out there.

Ice baths are the realm, I suppose, of those athletes who have pushed themselves far enough and need the cooling relief that ice provides sore and overused muscles. I write that a bit self-depricatingly since I don't really lump myself in with "athletes" like Lance Armstrong or Kara Goucher. But, in this case, I guess I fall into that category, at least for ice baths.

Here's how my ever first ice bath went. I arrived back at home after my run sweating so profusely I left an icky schmeery mark on the glass of our front door. My legs felt great, but I pushed them a bit, and for once, I actually had time. That, really, is the key element to taking an ice bath. I need time, say an extra 20 minutes, to perform this ritual and since I'm a slow runner, the 20 minutes adds onto my already climbing number of minutes I'm occupied with the activity of running in some way.

Anywho, I grabbed all the ice in the freezer - 2 whole trays worth - and head upstairs. I run the cold water into the tub about half way and crack the ice into the water. Then I lower my legs into the cold-ish water.

I have this crazy mental snapshot of me, sitting there in 5 inches of water with about 40 ice cubes floating around in there with me, melting pretty quickly in my cool bath. I'm pretty sure that when Paula Radcliffe takes an ice bath, she's got way more than 40 ice cubes. I've gotten the water temp to luke-cold, I think.

Claire comes into the bathroom and sees me in a tubby and gets sssoooooo excited, in the way that only 4 year olds can get excited about a bath. She puts in baby dolphin and mama whale, 2 ponies, and a boat and takes off her clothes. She ignores all my warnings about how cool the water is, until she's standing there in the water with me. "Mommy!" she yells, eyes super-big, "you forgot the warm. Let me turn it on for you." I don't let her, so she just settles in to the cold-ish water, hands me mama whale, and gets me to play with her.

That was last week. Tonight's bath went a little better. I had 5 whole trays of ice cubes and I felt only a little less silly than last week. I huddled under a purple bath towel for warmth and read 11 pages of a book.

kicking and screaming

2010-06-27T08:43:00.003-04:00

Even though I packed my running clothes and THOUGHT about running while on vacation, somehow, vacation had other plans.

Wednesday, the fam and I toured the Freedom Trail in Beantown, walked a few miles...after a delicious dinner, Claire and I fell asleep about 8:30, and I forgot to lay out my running clothes. Early the next morning, I was awake in the hotel room, wanting to go downstairs to the fitness center, but I couldn't. Trying to find my clothes would've disturbed everyone - including a 4 year old who was all ready wiggling awake.

Thursday and Friday were busts too - too much good times with my girls and Glenn, too much beach fun and lobster, pools and swimming. Saturday morning was my best time for a run and I DIDN"T WANT TO GO! My parents took the girls out for breakfast, so I had a perfect morning to run, but I lay around on the couch in my jammies until well past 10. I knew I should run, I knew I wanted to run, but I just didn't feel like I had the energy to run.

But, I went out and brought Glenn with me. I went out because I said I would - I wanted to run to celebrate my friend Kari being a year cancer free; I wanted to run because my friend Paula is racing her first Ironman this weekend; I wanted to run because I knew how much I'd love it when I got back.

But the first mile was hell. I was kicking and screaming inside the whole time. I didn't want to run...booooooooo....My poor husband, who I dragged along with me, I brought him into this too. Mean jill.

And then that perfect moment happened - it was very brief, just a few minutes of running where my stride felt good and my breathing was good. This was followed by another 15 minutes of wondering why I was out running when I could've been sitting on a couch drinking iced coffee and not sweating my arse off.

When Glenn and I were done with the run, we were both happy - happy for the run to be done, but happy too that we went out, made ourselves do it, kicking and screaming the whole way. Sometimes, a run is just like that. The next one will be that much more enjoyable, and that's what keeps me going.

packing

2010-06-22T12:27:00.003-04:00

I'm heading up to Massachusetts with the family for almost a week of vacation. Last night, as I was setting out my week of clothing - shorts, tanks, sweatshirt for the cold nights - I had this separate pile of clothes.

Sarah asked, "What's that for?" pointing at the black pile.

"Oh," I said, "that's all my running stuff." Yeah, the majority of my running clothes are black.

"You're going to run?" then after a pause, "will you run up the sand banks?"

Near my sister's home are these HUGE sand banks left over from decades of quarrying. Huh, I thought, now THAT would be a great hill work out!

"Maybe I will. We can all go for a walk and I'll run up and down those hills." Sarah just smiled, like I was a little crazy.

Which I am...only crazy people lay out their running clothes FIRST when they are packing for a trip. Only crazy people hone in on the words "jogging path" when they are reviewing the deck layouts of the cruise ship they will be on for their honeymoon. Only crazy people get excited when they know there'll be a fitness center at the hotel they are staying at because it will mean fitting in runs will be a bit easier in the family vacation.

Guess you just gotta love me!

REAL runners milestone

2010-06-18T18:20:00.002-04:00

Yesterday I went out for a perfectly lovely 7 1/2 mile run. The weather was made for a nice long run - warmish and sunny, but not humid and there was a slight breeze. I put on my running skirt and a pink striped tank top, filled up my water bottle, and drove to one of my favorite places to run, the Lebanon Valley Rails to Trails.

The running skirt I have is a Kohl's brand - so it's kind of a knock-off from the "real" sports wear like Adidas or Nike. Last year, when I bought the skirt, I loved running in it. Gosh, I felt all cute and feminine.

This year, once it was warm enough to go for a run in my skirt, I discovered something - or several somethings. Those seven pounds I wrote about in my last blog, they made my running skirt (the inner shorts part) rather tight around my now bigger thighs. And not just tight...but the squeezed out flesh now rubbed together. Niiiiice.

But, still I pressed on, wearing my skirt on hot days because, well, I don't have the running wardrobe I dream about. For warm days I have 1 skirt and 1 pair of running shorts and 1 pair of cotton bike shorts. Slim pickins.

So, yesterday, as I was saying, I wore my running skirt for my run...and yes, I did feel my thighs compressed in the undershorts squeezing out like puffy sausage. I also felt those inner thighs rubbing together but I was able to ignore that dreadful sensation.

Overall, the run felt great - a picture perfect summer day. I saw 8 bright red cardinals on my run and countless other birds that I have absolutely no idea of their names. The trees danced in the wind, I gazelle-jumped over a decapitated mouse, and the only music I listened to was of birdsong.

Back at home, I took a much needed shower. Boy, did that water feel awesome as it rinsed off all the sweat and dead bugs stuck to my skin...until...it happened. The water reached enough of my thighs and I SCREAMED! Ow ow ouch!

CHAFING. Real, honest to God chafing, something that in my four years of running I had never experienced before. And I have to say, I do hope I don't experience that again.

However, I do feel like I've achieved some great and necessary milestone, and I feel all the same kind of pride I did when I would receive my latest Girl Scout Merit Badge. Because I earned it. Yes, I did.

Seven pounds

2010-06-15T11:56:00.002-04:00

I am ignoring you, delicious looking chocolate cake. Yes, I know you are less than 15 feet away, so close my left arm tingles with the held-back energy as I resist reaching out for you. My eyes are focused on the convener of the meeting, but ever so often, I find that suddenly, there you are, floating tantalizingly before me. I stick a piece of sugar-free (but sweet) bubble gum in my mouth, which is supposed to help me ignore you, but it doesn't. I still want you, chocolate cake.

Why do I struggle to resist your charms, you ask? Because of 7 pounds.

Seven pounds I wish would disappear. Seven pounds that are welded on to my bellyhipsthighsbutt. That's not a huge amount of weight, I know.

Five years ago, when I started this "healthy living", when the number on the scale screamed out OVERWEIGHT and I battled to make exercising and eating better my new normal, I had a number in mind.

125

That's the weight I want to be. I've been there - actually, for two years I was way below that number (but that was too thin) - but slowly in the past year and half, I've crept upward.

My one saving grace is running. Without running, my love for chocolate cake - and food in general - would have me well past 160 pounds, as I was 5 years ago. Running - and the occasional salad and missed cookie - keeps me at the curvaceous weight of 132. On the days I run, it is much easier to ignore the ridonkulously delicious peanut-butter-and-chocolate donuts from our local bakery (or, at least, only have 1 instead of 3 or 4).

Now, I know these 7 pounds aren't horrible. Glenn likes my curviness. And with these extra few pounds, I can once again wear my favoritest skirt ever, the greeny one with the cool flower appliques.

Since I can't seem to get rid of my love for beer & buffalo wings, chocolate and strawberry pie, and second helpings, I'm trying to make peace with 7 pounds. But ONLY seven pounds...

tempo runs

2010-06-09T17:20:00.001-04:00

Speedwork has always been a mystery to me. When I started running a few years ago, I checked a few books out of the library to learn more about proper mechanics, nutrition, whatever about my new passion. The section on Speed Work was filled with strange terms that I only vaguely understood. Fartleks, yassos, strides, tempo runs. So, I ignored the chapter. I figured, mostly, I just want to get out there and run, I'm not going to be fast, I'm not trying to win any races.

When I was running my first half marathon, I used Runner's World's "SmartCoach" to create a training plan. I entered my race day, how many miles I currently ran, and my one 5K time from six months before, and SmartCoach spit out a calender for me. Each day an activity was listed: run so many miles on Tuesday and Thursdays, crosstrain on Wednesdays, rest on Mondays. Made sense, more or less. But beneath the "Run 5 miles" there would be strange numbers listed. Pace 11:52 I would be directed. 4X400 repeats would be listed. Tempo run. I didn't know what it meant - I mean, I read the definitions, but I didn't know what running a tempo run - or yasso or fartlek - felt like.

Three years later, I'm still not trying to win any races, or even get too much speedier. But, I've finally stumbled across what a tempo run feels like and how to fit one in periodically.

A tempo run feels uncomfortably fast - running faster than I'm used to, but not an all out sprint. And a tempo run is a pace I should be able to maintain for a mile or two before I'm sucking wind so badly I need to stop the pace and bring it down to my turtle trot.

I discovered this by pure accident. One afternoon, I knew I should run, but I was feeling a bit scraped thin. Claire was demanding a huge amount of attention I didn't have and a level of patience that was completely lacking. Mercifully, the time came when I was to bring her to the Enrichment Class at a local preschool, giving me a blessed hour to myself. This is normally the hour I run, and I usually run 3-4 miles during this time. Well, I had a case of the dontwannas. So I sat in the sun and read my Runner's World magazine for about 20 minutes. I then proceeded on my run, but when I looked at my watch, I thought, holy crap there is no way I'm going to run these 2 miles and get back in time.

So, I pushed it, fast. I ran 2 miles in 19:11, which is like lightening fast for me. Or, as I later discovered, my tempo run pace.

Speedwork is an idea that I continue to flirt with. I don't do tempo runs all that often, or intervals, or fartleks, though once or twice a month I do think about doing something like that. I wonder if just thinking about trying to be faster will make me faster...probably not. So, I'll just keep trottin' on!

memorial day 5K

2010-06-01T11:59:00.004-04:00

On the Saturday of a weekend that kicks off summer, while others were traveling or getting ready for a day at the beach or preparing for some yard work, Glenn and I woke our girls early and brought them to the Lebanon VA Hospital Campus, the site of the 23rd Annual Memorial Weekend 5K Race.

We got to the campus just about 8:30 - meaning on time, meaning with plenty of time before the 9 o'clock start time. The morning was overcast but much warmer than wunderground.com had lead me to believe it would be. Rather than a nice, cool 58* at 8:30, it was closer to 68* - I hoped that it wouldn't warm up too much for the race. The girls were a bit Sleepy and Grumpy (2 of the 7 dwarves) but held it together while Glenn and I got our race packets and looked for our friend, Trevor, who was going to keep an eye on Rachel, Sarah, and Claire while we ran, giving up a kid-free Saturday to watch our kids (Thanks, Trevor!).

The crowd for this race was HUGE! So much larger than last year (the first year I ran this 5K). In fact there were over 500 runners half of whom, it turns out, fall into the "serious/competitive" category (and there went my secret hope of achieving an age group place). Just looking around at the other runners, I knew that there was no way I'd place, which was a long shot any how. Glenn works for the VA, so he said hello to some co-workers, introduced Our Family - Claire soaked up all the attention, Rachel gave a grimace (still too early).

Finally, it was time to move towards the starting area. This race always begins with both Christian and Patriotic elements, which I find both startling and interesting...So, someone lead us in praying the Our Father, someone else lead us in the Pledge of the Allegiance (which I haven't said for several decades and faltered over a few words). A veteran sang the National Anthem, which brought tears to my eyes, not for the quality but for the significance of someone who actively served our country, standing up for the very freedom F. Scott Key described, singing that tune.

Glenn and I took our position in the middle of the pack...and we were off! The first mile loops around the hospital campus, and the crowd was pretty thick since there were over 500 of us. We kept coming up on people Glenn knew, trying to carefully pass some of the slower runners and the walkers. We came up on our first mile so fast and checked our watches - 9:26! Wow! I laughed - I'd never run a mile that fast before! Glenn, who hadn't run a step in 4 weeks due to a calf muscle pull, was doing awesome - all those long bike rides were paying off for the CV activity. And, thankfully, his calf muscle kept quiet. [We'd discussed ahead of time what to do if it screamed at him...when to call it quits, should he finish, walk, whatever.]

We ran for a bit just ahead of or just behind this guy Glenn works with who was running with his 8 year old son (super cute little guy!). It was the son's first 5K, and he had all that youthful bounding enthusiasm and perfect running form, which was a wonder to see, though at about the half way point we didn't see that any more, since the 8 year old way outpaced us.

The second mile is through a beautiful town park called South Hills that Claire & I love to go to for its great playground and huge sandbox. Here's where the moment of reality hits you: those at the front of the pack are already passing you by on their way to the finish line...that can feel a bit discouraging if you think about it too much (which I don't). There's a bit of a hill through the park that slowed us a bit (and I pulled back my pace, since I didn't want to wear out). Our second mile was run in 9:40, a bit slower, but still quite fast (for me).

That was when it hit me: I had the best shot ever in my running to come in well under 31 minutes (my fastest 5K run before being about 31:15, a training run...last year's time on this same course was 32:33). I was going to finish, and look at my watch and the first numbers would be a 3 and 0. How awesome was that!?

Then, there's a long flat stretch followed by a nice long hill...My legs started to feel very tired on that flat stretch and all I could think about was that long hill and how I'd have nothing left. I tried to do the math in my head - my last mile needed to be 11 minutes to finish at 30-something. I could slow way down, I figured. I could stop and walk...The finish felt so far away and I was beating myself up for going out too fast.

Glenn must have realized I was silently struggling (and obviously slowing down), because he kept up a steady chatter for a couple minutes - "you can do this, baby, we're almost done, you can see the finish line, keep going" - and in those moments, he was my savior. I would have done a nice long walk break without his being at my side (oh, then the most discouraging sight: those who already finished, walked all the way back the final 1/2 mile to chat with some of the police out on the course...ggrrrr....cool and calm and chatting away, that's just not right!).

I ran up the hill pretty well and glanced down at my watch. 29:10. Holy crap! I glanced again just to be sure, but yes, there it was, a twenty-nine. And, as tired as I was I thought, "I could actually run this in UNDER 30 MINUTES!" which was beyond any dream I thought possible. I had a tenth to go and Glenn said, "Got anything left in your tanks?" and I took off in a (for me) fast sprint. Arms pumping, head held high, I just focused on that finisher's chute (couldn't see Trevor & the girls...wondered where they were). I crossed the finish line and tore off the little strip at the bottom of my bib (if the field keeps growing, they race will have to go official and get timing chips) and handed it to a volunteer which is how they figure out your final time.

I came to a stumbling walk, heaving, and looked back for Glenn (just behind me) and then realized that there the girls and Trevor were, sitting on the curb just after the finish line. As soon as Claire saw me, she started wailing (she'd tripped over the curb and got a booboo; the sight of her own blood keeps her in hysterics). Claire wanted me to carry her and I was just trying not to collapse or black out...within a minute I was fine, but that last push really took it all out of me.

All the girls wanted pizza, which is what the racers get at the end...I held them back, saying the pizza was for those who ran, not for spectators and they were not pleased with me. It didn't help that another runner let his kids get pizza and they were right next to us. I said they needed to wait, let runners get first dibs, that this was race etiquette...boy, were they grumpy about that. We did let them have some of the fruit & pretzels and Hershey's Kisses, since there was a TON of that.

Claire finally realized she was not mortally wounded by the Incident with the Curb and after chocolate and band-aids, decided that she was going to run in the Kids Race. Rachel and Sarah ran with her. It was a 1/4 mile run and I so wished I brought my camera. Claire had dressed in her running skirt & shirt she wore for her Disney Race, and Rachel held her hand the whole way (Sarah decided she wanted to run fast...). They all got purple race ribbons they were psyched about, even Rachel who sometimes tries to be too big about things.

Then Claire wanted to run in the Mile Race, but we missed the start trying to figure out if Rachel was going to go with her. So, Claire and I tried to catch up with the Milers, but that didn't happen. A full mile is a long way for a four year old, especially without seeing the other runners. She kept stopping to pick flowers for me. Glenn got the volunteers to wait for us, though, so Claire got another ribbon and a prize (Sarah, too, because she ran the last tenth with us).

It was a great day, really. I was flying high about my finishing time (Glenn finished in the same time too, but he has faster finishing times...he was just glad to finish under 30 and without reinjuring his calf muscle). Next year, it would be great to have Rachel and Sarah run the 5K with us...definitely want them do the mile, which they probably would have done if we had talked it up more ahead of time.

my secret hope

2010-05-28T15:30:00.002-04:00

I know that I'm a turtle trotter - and mostly, I am at peace with this. However, sometimes I get little whispers from some place deep within that thinks I could run faster if I really push myself.

Ever so often, I give in to that voice. Like last week. On Wednesday, while thinking about my usual 4 mile run that I do when Claire is at her enrichment class, that little voice whispered, "You can run this 4 miles in under 40 minutes". It probably wasn't too much of a stretch, since the last 2 times I ran that route I did it in 40:44 and then 40:11. So, I listened to that little voice. I took off feet flying, arms pumping, which I kept up for the first mile and half (a mile and half I shared with a manure truck that was spraying fertilizer as God intended it all over the field I was running through...if you've never run in the heat while aspirating manure, then you are a lucky person).

Then, I felt like I was going to puke. I've never run so fast that I've come to that point, though many runners have (especially at races when they push themselves...be careful when you cross the finish line not to step in the fruits of their achievement). I ended up needing a 3 minute walk break, along with two other minute walk breaks...and my time was 41:something. Not too bad, really...but slower than I'd done that route and slower than I wanted. That little whispery voice drew me away from my relaxed running ways and nearly had me puking right next to the golf course.

Which brings me to My Secret Hope. I've nursed this secret desire way down inside of me that I would finish in the top 6 in my age group at the annual Memorial Day VA 5K Race here in Lebanon. For most races I've been in, I am to ridiculously slow to even contemplate an age group finish. But the VA race is local - and they give out not the usual three, but SIX, awards. Wow! I thought, this might be possible...To do so, I'd definitely need to finish in under 30 minutes, but six months ago, that seemed totally do-able. I'd have to run, train, even do a few speedwork sessions, but I planned to be in GREAT shape by the time May rolled around.

Well, the race is tomorrow and I am in pretty decent running shape. I've consistently brought my overall pace time down to nearly a 10 minute mile - woohoo! But, realistically, that's not going to bring me a Top 6 tomorrow morning. Sigh.

I guess I'll just have to keep nursing that secret hope. There's always next year!

A mile in her shoes

2010-05-24T15:38:00.008-04:00

Yesterday, my running friend Anna accomplished something amazing: she ran 1 mile for every year of her life as a way to celebrate turning 30.

Being the fabulous person that she is, there were plenty of ladies who wanted to celebrate and support Anna on this journey, and I was honored to be a part of Anna's running 30 miles through New York City.

Anna's support team included 5 or 6 wonderful women who ran different legs of her 30 miles in a relay of love & support. Those of us who weren't running with her followed Anna in a car, weaving in and out of traffic, avoiding parades and closed streets, so that we could be both an oasis for rest and refreshment for the runners (water, gatorade, gu, and potato chips were well stocked in the back of the car) as well as a mobile cheering squad. I'm sure that there were plenty of New Yorkers who were wondering what the heck was going on when a car full of crazy ladies would slow down, honking and screaming at a few be-pinked women running near them.

I got to run miles 9.5 through 16 with Anna (and her constant coach Stephanie, who ran all 30 miles with Anna) through Riverside Park on the West Side of Manhattan, overlooking the Hudson River. This gave me a unique perspective of a part of the city that I have only ever viewed at 64 mph while I zoom down one of the Parkways on my way from Pennsylvania through to Massachusetts. Anna was running strong, but starting to feel all the miles, and I got to be my exuberant self, hopefully distracting her from thoughts of "What the heck was I thinking!!??"

When Team Anna met the birthday girl at mile 25, she was looking extremely tired and a wee bit grumpy...By the time I joined her again at mile 26.5 to finish the run with her, all Anna wanted to do was walk and get this over with. Her feet were KILLING her. So, I offered Anna my shoes. I run in ginormous Asics, and when Anna put them on, her feet just spread out. I put on Anna's smaller shoes and now my feet started to hurt (but I was willing to take one for Team Anna). A mile later of running in each other's shoes got us that much closer to our goal (beer at the finish line) and gave me a new appreciation of why I love my Asics and why Anna's feet must've hurt her...

We switched back for the last mile and Anna happily hobbled her way to the end. We wound up at the strangest bar ever (if a 9 year old could design a bar, it would've been this one that boasted a shelf of board games like Sorry and Operation and a menu with PB & J sandwiches) where we had a celebratory glass of Yuengling (yum!) and then went home for Indian take-out (yummer!).

And may I say, I am superdeeduper proud of my friend Anna! She totally rocked those 30 miles!

Jill L. is a runner

2010-05-18T11:59:00.003-04:00

Recently I followed my fellow running moms into joining a website called "dailymile." It's kind of like Facebook for people who want to track & post their workouts. It's a great site - easy to post, gives helpful feedback like how many calories I burned on a 5 mile run (585) or a 19 mile bike ride (1200-something). At the end of the week the site emails you a summary of what you did. Friends can comment on your workouts or send you motivation. I've linked dailymile to my blog, and so every time I post a new workout, a pretty orange (my favorite color!) box updates how many miles I ran.

But here's why I really love dailymile: when creating your profile you pick if you are a cyclist, runner, walker, swimmer, whatever. I picked runner. When I'm logged in to dailymile and on my profile page, here's what the tab reads:

Jill L. is a runner from Lebanon, PA

Sometimes I don't feel like much of a runner. Not the ATHLETE sort of runner. I've been at this activity for a few years now and I've gotten myself to the super-speedy mile pace of 10 minutes a mile, which I was reminded (inadvertently) by two people this weekend isn't really all that fast. When I'm running my 10 m/m, I am running with full-on effort. This is not a leisurely jog, this is me pushing pretty hard to maintain that pace and still breathe and not have my right arm go all tingly. I love to run, but some days I just don't feel like a "runner"; I'm just a mom who runs.

So, I've started to log-in to dailymile, just so I can glance at the tab.

Jill L. is a runner from Lebanon, PA

If it says so on the internet it must be true!

happy birthday to me!

2010-05-17T11:07:00.002-04:00

Last Friday was my 35th birthday (how did I get to be THAT old? I swear I was just, like, 28 two years ago).

Friday didn't seem very birthday-y. That's one of the big differences of growing up - birthdays are just a blip of difference in the otherwise busy living of raising your family. Glenn and the kids wished me happy birthday in the morning, but we didn't really have much by way of plans since Sarah had a softball game that evening. After Sarah's game, we went out to a pizza place with the girls and another softball family. The waitstaff sang me "happy birthday" and put a candle in a piece of tiramisu. With all the rushing around, I didn't even open up my presents!

I'd told Glenn at some point that I really needed to get a run in on Saturday morning. I got into my running skirt right out of bed, but between my slow waking up, playing with Claire, drinking coffee...suddenly it was almost 9:30 and I hadn't yet run. Glenn had to leave to pick up Rachel from a sleepover, go to the supermarket, and we were having friends over at noon for a cookout. It seemed crazy for me to try and fit in a 5 mile run at my turtle trot pace, stretching, and a shower before the Pierces came over. I told him, I'd just go out of 4:00 but he was insistent that I run. So I did.

It was a great run. The weather was sunny but chilly, there was some wind but I chose a route with plenty of houses to block the gusts (originally I wanted to run through the farmlands, but that would've been tough). I can feel that I'm running better, more consistently, more strongly, and that's such a wonderfully alive feeling - HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

As soon as I got home, Glenn was standing in the door. "Why don't you stretch outside?" he said. That seemed strange to me and I was a bit put off, but again he was insistent. So, there I was, trying to stretch on the sidewalk with Glenn standing on the steps in front of the door. He filled up my water bottle...and then I got it.

Oh, the girls were up to something, probably making birthday cards. Ok, I figured, I'd play along.

Glenn rushed me into the shower and when I was much less stinky, I came downstairs. The girls were hiding under blankets on the couches and yelled "Surprise!" Which was so cute! I opened my gifts from them - Sarah put a rubber chicken in a gift bag as a gag gift - and then noticed the cake Glenn got from the grocery store. It was HUGE. Way more cake than 4 adults and 4 kids could eat.

"What's up with the ridiculously large cake?" I asked...and Glenn said, "Surprise! We're having a party for you!"

The afternoon was spent with friends dropping by for burgers and hot dogs....and just after 2:00, my mother and niece showed up! They drove all the way from Massachusetts that morning to come to my party - how wicked awesome was that?

This was the best birthday I've had in YEARS, and I owe it all to my amazing husband. God certainly blessed me the day I met him.

And, since I'd had such a great 5 1/4 mile run that morning, I had a BIG piece of my ridiculously large cake!

saturdays with my love

2010-05-08T18:43:00.004-04:00

Every other Saturday, Glenn and I are blessed with a wonderful gift - no kids. Don't get me wrong - we love our children and are completely devoted to them. It's just nice to have a day that we can devote to grown-up things like applying for passports, paying bills, planning life events, mulching stuff and hauling our good-enough junk to the charity store.

The best part of our Saturdays: our bike ride. There's a great Rails for Trails that runs right through Lebanon Valley, and it is a wonderful place for a bike ride. There's shady spots and beautiful views of rolling Pennsylvania farmland, green hills and red barns.

On today's bike ride, my legs were tired pretty much from mile 2 on (and we rode 19 miles). My 6 mile run yesterday probably had a lot to do with that, as did the crazy wind, which was constant and gusts up to 40 mph. Talk about your resistance training! The bike ride made me feel both fit and unfit at the same time...fit, just to be outside working my muscles, enjoying my husband's company...unfit at the struggle it was to keep peddling at times.

My motivation: Paula (AdventureJunkieMom). Paula is training for an Ironman. An Ironman. I am exhausted just typing that word, never mind contemplating the 2 1/2 mile swim, 112 miles biked followed by running a marathon. Last weekend Paula ran a mock-half Ironman as part of her training...as I was peddling my little (ok, big) butt off, I kept thinking of Paula, biking 56 miles and then thinking, "Oh, I'll now run 13..."

When I got home, I nearly fell going down the stairs, my muscles were that tired! But, tired in that great way that lets you know you are alive and using every muscle that God gave you, taking care of the gift of life given to you by your Creator.

king of pain

2010-05-06T07:22:00.002-04:00

I think being a runner means living in constant fear of WHAT WAS THAT TWINGE??

You are running along and are suddenly aware that your left hip is a bit tight....OMG is that my illiotal band tightening up?? You are getting out of bed in the morning and find that your right foot is aching in a particular spot...OMG is that plantar fasciitis? You are sitting at your desk at work for a few hours and discover, upon rising, a sharp pain localized at the top of your left shin...OMG is that a stress fracture?

That last little scenario was me on Tuesday. An off day for running, I was at work, arose from my desk, and had this strange, sharp pain. The spot was tender to touch. All day, into the evening, there this pain was, lurking. At first, I just thought it was, well, a little pain. Just an ache. Any one - runner or not - gets these from time to time, right? And then...the more It lingered, the more I thought. I thought about Tracey and her stress fracture and 6 weeks of no running. I thought, I've just come off of two weeks of rest. I thought about my running shoes that have about 235 miles on them and I'm not ready to fork over another $135 for a new pair.

I tried to ignore the hot spot, but something like this just looms large in your mind, like some huge lurking monster smirking in the corner. I went to bed, thinking, It will be gone in the morning. And when I awoke on Wednesday, THERE IT WAS! Horror! I got out of bed, worried.

I went about my morning routine - congratulating Claire on another night dry, making Glenn's lunch, eating my Kashi, getting breakfast for the girls. And then, I realized.

It was gone!

No more pain. Heck, the spot wasn't even tender.

So, what was this all about? Did I imagine it? Am I some kind of runner's version of a hypochondriac, only imagining worst case scenarios of the running kind? Or was this just what it appears, simply an ache, a pain that will occur from time to time because, let's face it, running does put more pounding stress on the body than just sitting in front of your TV for hours?

Whatever it is, I'll just keep running. Which I did later on Wednesday, running 4 miles in the hot sun, along the rolling farm roads, passing a group of cows who actually moo'ed at me, and seeing only one piece of roadkill.

holy golf balls, batman!

2010-05-04T13:19:00.002-04:00

I've read over & over in Runner's World that elites roll a golf ball under their foot to ease tension and take care of some foot issues with fancy sounding names...When I was dealing with the tight Achilles these past few weeks, I kept meaning to try this little trick. But, truthfully, the only thing thing I might be an "elite" at is in the WuzGunna department (as in "I wuzgunna try rolling a golf ball, but didn't").

Well, this morning, my feet felt tight and after I was done with my yoga, and had a few minutes while Claire was still taking her tubby, I thought, "Well, why not?" I figured, this would mean a life of freedom for at least one of the golf balls that have been languishing for almost 5 years in my unused golf bag. I went into the basement, found a nice, white Top Flight in my bag, and started to roll...DAMN! it felt AWESOME!

And my feet have felt great all day - kinda like a mini foot massage. I've also taken to really rubbing my calves and Achilles at the end of the day. I don't want them to get too tight now that I've ramped up my running again. So far, so good. Fingers crossed.

being speedy

2010-05-03T09:52:00.004-04:00

I know I'm not the fastest runner. I've made my peace with that...but there are times when I feel fast, even super-fast.

1. The wind rushing in my ears.

I love not running with an iPod. Sure, there are times when having some music would be helpful, especially on runs longer than 6 or 7 miles (there are only so many thoughts that can keep a girl occupied on a 75 minute run). And yesterday morning, an iPod would have been nice, because it would have gotten the song stuck in my head out of my head. Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun, please shine down on me....only I changed the lyrics to "please don't shine on me" since that's what Mr. Sun was doing, in blazing awesomeness, much too hot at 9:00 in the morning.

However, without an iPod, when I run, I hear the wind. Not the wind made by the rotation of the earth...this is wind created by me. I run, and the air rustles past my ears, sometimes in very noisy fashion. I love it. I feel as if I'm running at the speed of wind, as if my feet have turned into wings and I'm soaring along the asphalt.

2. I startle small animals.

This is also one reason I love running outdoors, not on a dreadmill. If you are on a dreadmill, you will not see a groundhog, or a squirrel, or a bunny rabbit. Outside, I come across little critters often. A lot of time, I'm not even sure which of God's creatures I've disturbed with my fleet-footedness. I just hear this quaking in the underbrush along the roadside, see the yellow dandelions and purple wildflowers tremble in the wake of the fleeing critter. I love this because, if a car zooming by at 43 mph doesn't disturb the little guy, but me trotting by does, then I must be going really, really fast!

the gospel according to RW

2010-05-02T10:49:00.004-04:00

Runner's World...that's like my Bible these days. If I had a dollar for every time I repeated to Glenn some little gem gleaned from those glossy pages (chocolate milk is the perfect recovery drink), I'd be a much richer lady with no credit card debt and a closet full of Ann Taylor Loft clothes and a bureau full of cute running skirts.

My run Friday was all Runner's World, all the time. I read this article in the May RW about "mindfulness" while running - sort of running as meditation. Well, now, I like that. Once a upon a time, I used to meditate a lot - the sitting down in a candlelit comfy place breathing in, breathing out kind. I thought, I want to try this - being aware of every bit of the running experience (if only for a 1/4 mile).

So, I did. I focused on my breath - the sound of it, the feel of fullness in my lungs, the tickly way it exits my nose. I listened to the wind rushing in my ears, felt the air glide across my sweaty arms. I heard the crunch of my feet on the road grit along the shoulder of Walnut Street, the rooster crowing at 5:12 pm.

Then, I moved on. Meditation, check. Now, on to the RW Sock Review article. On Friday, I ran with new socks on, sent to me by my sock buddy Kerry Ann. So, in my head, I cataloged all the pros of the sock - it had pink on it, it had cushy parts, it was a woman's sock (my regular socks are gender neutral). At the end of my run, the sock as pretty dry. Cons - those cushy bits also rubbed a bit weird, and there was a big seam along the toe.

Then, there was the contemplation of speedwork. RW always has stuff about how speedwork will make you faster (because it will). Beginners should add fartleks once a week...I thought about doing that, picking up the pace for a bit. Then, I realized...I don't want to. This run was already hard enough (I only got about 3 hours of sleep the night before because of a sick Claire...and the temperature was hovering at 86 degrees).

Runner's World, thank you. For the distraction you provide me as I trot along. For the bathroom reading material, for being there while I sit in my car with a sleeping preschooler who refuses to nap anywhere except for her Britax marathon in the backseat.

WWRWD.

feeling groovy

2010-04-30T09:53:00.002-04:00

Ever since Disney, my legs just haven't felt "right." First, they were sssoooo tired! The time or two I ran, felt as if I was running with a clingy toddler hanging on to each leg. Then, both Achilles felt like someone had come in during the night and shortened them by an inch. Running friend Heather advised that I 1) not run so much for a bit 2) avoid wearing high heels 3) avoid hills and 4) s-t-r-e-t-c-h all the time.

I followed this great advice. Running only once a week, under 3 miles, was tough, just as I was all focused on trying to meet my first running goal (Run 12-15 miles each week. I did this once.). Instead, I tried to do some core exercises each day, yoga every other day, and got in a nice 14 mile bike ride in with my wonderful husband. Every day, my Achilles felt a bit better.

Finally, I was ready to test my Achilles. The day was a perfect one for running - sunny, bright blue skies, some clouds, and the temp was in the low 50s. I ran on the flat river path along the Susquehanna River in Harrisburg, with the water flowing fast beside me, and the wind whipping along with me. I felt great - not one twinge from my Achilles - I felt fast and strong, all the reasons I love running.

I'm so thankful that I listened to my body, didn't press through the pain and injury to keep running. Yes, some tightness and pain, nagging twinges happen from time to time. A lot of these can actually ease up with a good run. I'm thankful for the advice of smart friends who alleviated my fears (Achilles problem! YIKES! does this mean no more running?).

Sometimes, you think clearer when you aren't running about where you hope you are going when you've got those shoes laced up...

Perhaps it's post-Boston fervor, but I've decided that I'm going to do it. Run the WHOLE distance. This might be a bit premature, seeing how I've only ever run 13.1 miles once (twice, if I count the Disney half, but I did walk that with Anna and Tracey for a good, solid 2 miles, maybe more, from about the 9 mile mark on).

Here's my plan: over the summer I don't have my Claire Bear, as she's with her daddy (well, I do see her every other weekend, and a week here & there). This means that I'll have at least 5 completely kid-free days every week free. So, I'm going to do a marathon training program, without signing up for a marathon. I want to see how I do, how I'm fitting in all those miles at my slow turtle trot.

Then, I hope to find a fall marathon somewhere in the PA area to run (preferably after the Philly Rock n Roll Half Marathon in September, that I'm hoping to run with Glenn; it'll be his first race longer than 5 miles).

I'm feeling groovy, and a little giddy at the prospect. 26.2 here I come.

Memory Lane - my first 5K

2010-04-27T11:07:00.002-04:00

[I wrote this post in April of 2008, following my first ever race...I've slightly edited it and updated it.]

this past weekend (April 19th, 2008) i ran my first race!! yay me!! it was the philly clean air 5K (in honor of earth day). i picked a race that would be on a weekend that my parents would be in town (for my daughter's 2nd birthday), that way i'd have a cheering squad to celebrate this big milestone with me.

i got up early (my parents, nieces, and daughter were to follow) and drove into philly to the art museum...it was a beautiful day!

me stretching it out:

i hung around for a long while, kept checking in w/ my folks wondering "when are they gonna get here??" turns out, they were lost and VERY frustrated...2 minutes before the start, my parents said they were just going to go home...i was disappointed, but then the announcement was made; move to the starting line! my stomach did a little flip-flop as i took a position toward the back of the pack (i didn't want to be in the way of the faster runners).

i didn't really push myself, just enjoyed the run and the energy from everyone there. the course was down MLK Drive, along the Schuylkill River. there were a ton of runners and walkers (about 1500) so there were always people around. the day was a perfect, spring morning. i am such a new runner, i wasn't really sure how far i'd run, when i finally hit the turn around point (by this point, LOTS of other runners were heading back). i remember thinking, "how far is THIS three miles?" because if felt longer than every other 3 mile run i've done on a marked path.

i didn't run my best time - but i was running for ME not for a clock (my time was 31:57).

the best part - i thought my parents, nieces, and daughter weren't going to make it to the race, and as i approached the finish line, there they were! i was soooo excited! maddy and gigi (my nieces) were yelling "yay auntie!!" jumping up and down! i (thought i ) crossed the finish line and gave them a BIG hug!

only, it wasnt the finish line - oops! i still had abt 50 feet to run! oh, well. it was still wicked awesome!

we all headed back...claire wanted to climb up the famous philly art museum steps (a la rocky!)

and i got a shot of the three girls...

the next day, my nieces madison and georgia (ages 9 1/2 and almost 4) wanted to run in a race w/ auntie - so we went to a local park and ran the half mile loop. i told them that one day we'll form a team and run in a real race together - they were so excited! this is really cool, because i don't come from a family of runners at all!

multitasking

2010-04-20T12:33:00.002-04:00

True story:

This morning I was brushing my teeth while drying my hair AND trying to get a good hamstring stretch by bending over, head to knees. I'd straighten up, then do a side-bend stretch, still making use of the toothbrush with my right hand and holding the dryer with the left.

About 20 minutes later, in between mouthfuls of Kashi cereal, I'm straightening my hair and standing on Claire's stool, left heel hanging over the edge, trying to get a good stretch on my tight Achilles. Spoon cereal in, get new section of hair, switch to right Achilles...

I think multitasking and being a mom are synonymous.

I make supper while I have laundry going. The TV is on and I'm reading a Runner's World magazine. I rarely do just one thing at a time. With one exception (okay, two exceptions...one on one time with Glenn is focused on doing just one thing, and doing it amazingly well).

When I run, I'm doing nothing else. Perhaps, that is one reason I need to run. When I'm out there, it's just me. I can't be making supper, too, or vacuuming or refereeing the sibling squabbles of three children. When I run, that is all I'm doing. Left foot, right foot, breathe in, breathe out, roll shoulders, pump arms, left foot. I run outside, so there's no distraction of a television show or magazine to slow me down as happened the few times I ran on a dreadmill. No kids interrupting. I don't have any fancy electronics I carry with me - no Garmin to beep at me, telling me my pace is too fast or too slow, no heart rate monitor, not even an iPod for music or books or podcasts.

Running is my unitasking.

Marathon Monday

2010-04-19T14:15:00.003-04:00

Today is Marathon Monday...the Boston Marathon that is, the world's oldest 26.2 mile race.

In Massachusetts (where I'm from) the day is actually a holiday...a day off for the entire state to watch, cheer, and participate in the best race ever! (Okay, officially the holiday is Patriots Day, the day the first shots were fired for the American Revolution in the Battle of Lexington and Concord following the Paul Revere's nighttime ride warning the Minutemen of the advancing Redcoats...but now, it's Marathon Day).

Growing up in Massachusetts, even nonrunners get excited about Marathon Day. I can still remember being in elementary school, home for the day, with live race day coverage on the television...I didn't really get it - watching two or three tired, intense, and sweaty men (and behind them, women) putting one foot in front of the other for a distance that meant nothing to me. But, it seemed exciting nonetheless. Coverage of the event for days before and after would be intense.

I remember my first Marathon Day when I was in college at Boston University (1994). My neighbor, Tara, asked me to go with her to Copley Square in downtown Boston, where the finish line is. She was a graphic arts major and had an assignment to take photos of the race...her idea was to catch shots of the back of the pack (an idea, I'm sure, fueled by the fact that we wanted to sleep in, have lunch, then go downtown). I was rather lukewarm about the idea...I mean, how boring does that sound? Let's go stand on the road and watch strangers run by you. Being a good friend, though, I accompanied her.

I have to say, that first day in Copley Square forever ruined me for every race to come: THIS is what a race is supposed to be like. Thousands and thousands of people were crowded into the city. Everyone was cheering...Thousands of runners went by and even though they were strangers, somehow, each one seemed so personal, so familiar. Perhaps it was because some of these runners were the ones featured in the news on the nights leading up to the race. The father who always ran, pushing his son in a wheelchair the whole 26.2 miles. The mom pushing a double jogger. The college kid, shirtless, running behind a keg of beer on a dolly. Or perhaps it is just that bit of common humanity that your soul hums in tune with others who are pushing themselves to their limits and proud of their accomplishment. The smiles, the raised arms, fists pumping, clapping at their own achievement, feeling the high of the crowd's cheers.

[Side note: This is what I expected my first big race to be like, the Philadelphia Marathon (or the half portion of it I ran in November of 2008). Big city, big race, big crowds, big excitement...Unfortunately, the Philly race was empty of bystanders and energy, probably due to the 22 degree temperatures and the early start time (7:00 am, as opposed to Boston's 10:00 start).]

Tara and I stayed for several hours, cheering on the runners. I'm sure the race is different now, since Boston has become so ridiculously popular (spurred on by the selectiveness of having rigid qualifying times to enter the race). But then, almost 20 years go (crap, it's been that long?), there were plenty of people at the back of the pack, plenty of runners whose time was a 5 or 6 hour marathon (unlike the elites who can run 26 miles in a little over 2 hours). We clapped until our arms ached, cheered and screamed until our voices were hoarse. It was one of the best sporting events I'd been to, then and now.

I made it a point to go down to Copley Square for Marathon Day each year I was in college, and then the three that I was across the river, studying theology in Cambridge. I'd bring friends who'd never experienced it before, and they would always come back starry eyed, as if they'd just witness something miraculous. And they did.

Perhaps, this is why I want to run in the Boston Marathon someday. This race was my introduction to running. This race is my touchstone. It is my ruler. It is what I measure every other race on. When I run Boston, it will be like a homecoming for me, a return to that nascent place where the runner within me I'd become one day was conceived.

"There are two ways to live your life. One, as though nothing is a miracle. The other, as though everything is a miracle." Albert Einstein

my last run

2010-04-15T09:30:00.007-04:00

Monday as I left work, a glorious Spring day greeted me. And I knew just the place I wanted to go for a run: Quittie Park.

Quittie Park is this little strip of quietude that runs just under US Route 422 in Annville PA. You'd never know it was there unless, like me, you accidentally turned down the street just to make a U-turn, which is what Claire and I did a few weeks ago. Driving along, I'd missed wherever it was we were going, and turned down this little alley of a street and discovered a bit of paradise squeezed in between townhouses and farm fields and a little college town.

Since discovering Quittie Park (full name: Quittipahilla Park, after the Q Creek...but everyone says "Quittie"), Claire and I have been a couple of times, walking the nice path along the creek, sitting at the picnic tables, exploring beneath the trees, enjoying the violets and crocuses and other early spring flowers.

And so, Monday, I knew I wanted to run there. I thought I'd get a nice, easy 2 mile run out and back along the creek path...I had figured the path was about a mile long, because it took Claire and I about a half an hour to walk it. But, apparently, a 30 minute pace for a 4 year old does not equal a mile. More like half a mile. So, I just ran up and down the creek path, passing the same two nice ladies with their two dogs, one a shaggy white dog named Bailey, very sweet.

The advantage of running without a four year old was that I was able to explore a few of the paths that lead away from the creek (Claire likes to throw sticks into the water and make wishes, so we rarely leave the banks). There was a decent hill that I ran up and down, too, and all in all I was running along at Quittie Park for about 37 minutes. A perfectly lovely run.

I felt great during and after the run. Strong legs, strong lungs. But, later that night, after sitting for a while, my calves and Achilles felt SO tight. And I started to realize that I've been having this problem with tightness ever since I came back from Disney. While at Disney and all the miles I walked, I'd feel a tightness at the end of the day, but was so tired, I just didn't stretch. Silly. I should know better. Now, when I wake up in the morning, my Achilles are so tight, that I walk with a hobble, like my calf muscle got about an inch shorter. Walking down the stairs is tough. After consulting my running mommas and the internet, I've diagnosed myself with Achilles Tendonitis, a very mild case (there's no pain or inflammation, just the tightness), but nonetheless, there it is.

So, the Quittie Park Run will be my last one for a week or two. I've got to rest those tricky Achilles or risk hurting them more. And, all the stretching I've been doing recently will help, so more Yoga it is. I've been diligent about stretching a few times a day, now, in addition to the Yoga routine.

Every runner hates to be sidelined and I'm hating it all the more because I've just newly recommitted myself to running consistently. I'm thinking, though, that I can focus on Yoga and core exercises, which really will just make me a stronger - and hopefully less injury-prone - runner.

I guess I'll have more time to enjoy the voilets, not just run by them!

goal attained!

2010-04-11T10:03:00.002-04:00

This week, I'm back at it.

I'm back in the working out groove. It's been a while since I've really worked out (nearly) every day in a week...for nearly a year and half, really. I've kept running, sure, but as Runner's World Magazine is always writing, running isn't everything, and certainly isn't the only fitness activity a body should be doing. Ever so often, I'd do some crunches...before the wedding I did push-ups for a few weeks...but it wasn't consistent. And I'd let my yoga practice just die.

Well, NO MORE.

This week marks a turn around for me. Here's what I've done:

1. I set a running goal.
I've never set a running goal before. I've advanced how far I can run, I've signed up for a few races, but I've never said, "THIS is my goal." It's part of the whole "relaxed runnerness" in me. Most runners are crazy methodical about time, pace, repeats, 200-400-800, yassos, miles, etc. Me, I just run. I try to run a certain number of miles, especially if I've got a half marathon coming up. But I'm such a slacker that I rarely get there. Case in point: for the Disney Half, during training, my highest weekly mileage was 18 miles. Now, to nonrunners, that might sound fantastic...but to runners, it's more of a shoulder shrug. My next weekly high mileage was 13 (not including the race)...not stellar, really.

My running goal for the week: Run between 12 and 15 miles.

2. I started a new training log.
In the past, I'd use the online log at RunnersWorld.com...but in all honesty, really I'm a pen&paper girl at heart. As much as I'm on the computer all the time, for some reason, the online thing didn't really work for me.
I renewed my subscription to RW mag, and they sent me a simple, hold-it-in-your-hands training log. AND I'm using it. So far, one week noted.

3. I'm doing more than running.
I'm back at yoga and boy, I've got to tell ya, I am waaaaay out of practice! I'm struggling through a series of three flowing postures, arms shaking, and my thighs are screaming...and it all reminds me of April 2005 when I first started yoga, working out (elliptical), and this whole healthy living thing I've been doing for 5 years now. But, the yoga is helping me reacquaint myself with my body in ways that I'd gotten lazy about - my posture's all icky, my butt sticks out when I walk, my breathing's crap, and peace? Gone.
And I'm doing some core exercises too, because all runners should have a strong core.

So, one week in and I've logged about 50 push-ups, 240 crunches, 3 yoga workouts, and...GOAL ATTAINED!

I ran 14.05 miles this week!

that kind of mother

2010-04-10T09:47:00.002-04:00

I realized this week that I've become that kind of mother.

The kind of mother I never wanted to be. The kind of mother that I used to sit in haughty judgment over whilst drinking good, dark beers with my friend Jess.

The kind of mother who sits her child in front of the TV so she can get laundrymoppingcleaningdishwashingyogacrunches done.

During the month of February - busy with unpacking boxes from my move into Glenn's townhouse and busy with a wedding just a few weeks away - I'd catch a quiet hour or so with Claire happily watching Playhouse Disney. And I vowed that this was a temporary solution - that once life settled down and a rhythm and routine developed, this stay-at-home mom wasn't going to have her kid in front of the tv all day. This mom wasn't going to have an electronic babysitter sapping the creativity, personality, and essence out of her child. Not this mother.

But, it's becoming a habit, and not even one that Claire initiates. At 8:30 most mornings - the time when Mickey Mouse Clubhouse comes one - I say to Claire, "Finish your breakfast - Mickey's almost on" and she gobbles up the remains of her soggy cereal...I've become the TV pusher, me, a person who lived for a year and half without any cable on my little 19" screen, a screen that for 6 months Claire didn't even really was a TV, because it was never on. Sigh.

But, I'm having a bit of trouble finding the sweet zone of staying at home. I've been out of work for a long time, but Claire was still in daycare. I'd bring her to school, do errands, clean, prepare supper, go for a run or go to my minimum wage job at Gymboree, or go to an interview all while she was occupied at daycare, learning her days of the week, stories, songs, computer time, socializing, getting educated. When she'd come home, I'd only focus on Claire. Everything else was done. Now, she's with me all time (which I do love, honestly), but I feel torn between the chores, the Me Time, and my Claire time.

I know I'll find a balance. I'll figure out my own fun & educational activities to do with Claire during the day. And I'll find a balance for my Me Time too, which for me is also known as my running time.

The Mommy Guilt is a real, pervasive thing, though. I know I'm a good mom, AND I know it's good for Claire's psycological development into a happy, well-adjusted person if I am not at her beck-and-call each and every moment of the day. But, I also know that Mommy Guilt makes me feel badly when I'm trying to get a bajillion things to fit into a day, most especially my run.

Yesterday, I dropped Claire off at a one-hour Math and Music class that a preschool is doing (called "Afternoon Enrichment"). I signed Claire up so she could have some school-like time, some friends, a little return to the structure that she knows and loves and is desperately missing. I met several of the other moms, all nice ladies about my age, most of whom were sticking around, chatting and drinking flavored coffee during the hour their child was occupied with number games. I thought, "Well, here's an opportunity to meet some new moms, good for me, good for Claire..."

And then, I looked out the window, saw the beautiful bright blue sky and realized, this hour was my Me Time, my running time...As the other moms gathered, chatting away, I started jogging down the driveway. Claire was happy and safe at the daycare. I need my Me Time as much as Claire needs to be with other kids at that daycare.

That is the kind of mother I want to be. The one who knows it's ok to leave her child - and her Mommy Guilt - behind.

perchance to dream...

2010-04-07T11:13:00.007-04:00

My running friend Tara (who I've never met real world style, but get to in July when she comes to Philly to run as many miles as she can in 24 hours...her goal is 100 miles! but, I digress)...

My running friend Tara posted on her blog a few days ago the simple question, "What is your dream?"

Back in January, when Glenn and I were doing our premarriage counseling with our minister, she asked us the same question: What are your dreams - for yourself and for your partner? I've got lots of dreams - maybe they are more like goals, because many of them are accomplishable (hah, I made up a Bushism). My dreams for my family, for me and Glenn, involve having a bigger home, welcoming another child into that home, and lots of dreams for our children.

But, I've also got running dreams. Some of them are simple - run a half marathon with my husband (ok, maybe not simple for him, since his longest run is 5 miles...but certainly a possibility). Since I had such a blast running Disney with Anna and Tracey, I want to run more races with the fantastic running moms I've come to love over the years.

However, my true running dream is BOSTON. Someday. Even if it costs me a ridiculous sum of money (like $10k), something that would cause stress on my marriage (the money would stress that). I've watched this race live on TV since I was a little girl, decades before I ever ran my first mile because I had this crazy thought (surely a post-pregnancy hormonal hallucination) that I could run a mile in 12 minutes. BOSTON.

I guess, if I'm dreaming, I could just dream that I make Boston for free, like actually qualifying. But, that sounds more like fantasy to me: I'd have to shave 2 hours off my running time to qualify, and that's something only Rosie Ruiz knows how to do...

So, there it is: My Big Fat Running Dream...maybe that's what I'm running towards with each run I do, each step brings me a tiny bit closer to lacing up my shoes on Marathon Day, standing with tens of thousands of other runners who have ached and dreamed and trained to be among the few in the world who can say, "I ran Boston."

Ooohhh, I have shivers just thinking about it!

homeward bound

2010-04-06T14:54:00.009-04:00

This past weekend, for the Easter holiday, Glenn and I loaded our three girls into the car with 2 suitcases, 1 dufflebag, 3 Easter baskets, 2 bags of easter grass, candy, food, bags of presents for Claire's birthday and a bunch of other sundries and made the 6+ hour trek to Templeton, Massachusetts, aka "where I'm from."

In what I can only call a moment of pure delirium, I had thought it was a grand idea to spend 4 days at my sister's house, a cute little home that we destroyed by making it look something like that old nursery rhyme "there was an old woman who lived in a shoe..." We were certainly bursting at the seems with 5 children, 6 adults, a dog, a cat, and 2 mice! My sister was a wonderfully gracious hostess...but there was a whole lot of "closeness" in that home!

Glenn, the girls, and I arrived in Templeton at that hazy time when you aren't sure if it's Thursday or Friday, that borderline dateline...We had a lazy morning on Friday and then my mom took her five granddaughters (3 by birth, and 2 new ones from my marriage) out for a day of sightseeing. They had a blast visiting downtown Gardner and the BIG chair. Once upon a time, this was the world's biggest chair - made in the once upon a time Chair City of the World.

While they were gone, my plan was to bake a cake for Claire's birthday party the next day and go for a run. Glenn wanted to go with me (yay! I love running with my husband) and so we donned our grubby clothes and out the door we went.

The day was perfect for running, about 68 degrees and sunny. Glenn hadn't run for several weeks and he didn't want to do more than 3 or 4 miles, which was fine by me. The good thing about being a relaxed runner: any distance is a good run! We took it pretty slow, since we were tired from a long drive up and a late night. It was a fun run for me: I got to point out some around-town things to Glenn and regale him with lots of stories about my town.

Saturday and Sunday were busy doing family things: Easter Egg hunt on the Templeton Common, then a birthday party for Claire (I can't believe my baby is just about four!) and Easter baskets, Easter service, Easter dinner. The whole weekend was great: the girls had fun together (Rachel and Sarah play, scratch that, "hang out", so well with my niece Madison, and Claire and my younger niece Georgia are like BFFs). Glenn and I hung out at the Gardner Ale House two nights in a row.

But, honestly, by Monday I was done. Done with all the closeness. Done with being a guest. I wanted to be home! And I wanted a nice long run. Since the Three Musketeers (aka RachelSarahMadison) convinced us we should stay all day on Monday too, I, literally, ran away.

I'd only brought one day of running clothes, so I had to wear again my already ridiculously stinky running clothes from Friday. But I put them on and said to Glenn as I left, "I'm not sure how long I'm running for. Sometime between 40 minutes and an hour and half." And then I was gone.

I started off retracing where Glenn and I had run, but this time seeing it with just my eyes. East Templeton has a little bakery next to the teenyweeny Post Office...Olson's Restaurant, where I shredded my left thumb on the night of my surprise 13th birthday party, looks derelict. Kamaloht - a bizarre mideval structure that used to be a dive bar - is still a bizarre mideval structure. I ran past houses that used to be the homes of kids I went to junior high with. I ran down roads that I used to drive down when I first got my license. I remembered the people I used to know who are just hazy images now, kids I used to babysit who lived there when that house was blue, looked into windows I'd look out of decades ago. I ran down streets that used to be filled with woods and now had homes so new the lawns hadn't yet been seeded...and by homes so old it's been years since the lawns were green and well-cared for.

I ran, and ran, and ran in my hometown, a place I had not really visited much in the last 10 years, except for brief hours-long excursions.

It's a strange, timetwisted feeling, returning to a place you should know so well, that is a familiar as breath, but just as fleeting because everything has changed...most of all, you.

accountability

2010-03-30T09:09:00.008-04:00

Last Saturday, i planned on doing a nice, long run. I had the day to myself: the girls were all with their other parents for the weekend, Glenn was gone all day working at an outdoor adventure group building thingy. The day was relatively nice weather-wise: a hard, sunny bright with a touch of cold that would have been perfect for the 8 miles I planned...

I started to go through more than 800 photos from my week at Disney and Claire's race and my race and just got sucked in. It was a perfect day for sitting and cropping and reducing red-eye...

Then, my friend and fellow runner (and fellow Disney Princess Runner) Tracey posted on her blog that she was turning in to a couch potato. She wanted advice on how to get off her butt and lace on those runners and go...and I posted what I do when i know I should run, but the motivation is lacking. I commented, "here's what i do when i know i should run (and somewhere in my mind i know i'd even like it) but don't want to: i wear my running clothes all day long until i get outside. and i set myself an embarrassingly easy goal like "run down the street for 5 minutes; then i'll go home". usually, if i can get out the door and run for a few minutes, the "i don't wannas" go away." So, on Saturday, taking my own advice, I put on my running clothes, tied on my shoes, put on my watch, and sat down to eat a small meal before the run, and to do one more thing with the Disney photos.

And then, I never left my computer. I didn't run.

So, Tracey and I made a pledge to run come hell or high water on Sunday. We were going to hold each other accountable. Tracey, well, she did it - went out and ran 8 miles! And our friend Anna, she too, seeing our back & forth on Facebook, agreed to the virtual running buddy accountability, and she went out and did her miles on Sunday. Me...after a date night with Glenn that encompassed visiting several bars, I did not go. BAD GIRL!

Tracey and Anna were holding me accountable: I HAD TO RUN on Monday. And to make me even more accountable to my self, I posted this as my Facebook status, that way all my other running mommas could also keep my nose to the grindstone.

When Monday (yesterday) came along, knowing that I had to run or had to tell Tracey, Anna, Tara, Heather and everyone else that I did not go for a run because of __insert excuse here__ seemed so much worse than actually going for the run after work. All day long, I kept thinking about my run...a run I imagined doing in torrential rain, as forecasted by the meteorologists. Truthfully, I was already psyched to run in the rain - there's something that makes you feel like a hardcore runner - a REAL runner - when you run in the rain. Because you know that you are crazy, or committed, or should be committed, when you and you alone are out there dodging the drops while drivers look outside their windshield ate you with utter horror.

I got home from work and changed, I told Glenn, "I'm going for a run because I have to - because if I don't my running mommas are going to spank me" he just got that little smile guys get...to which I then added, "and no, you can't watch!"

And so I ran. It was a nice, easy run beneath heavy gray clouds. For the first time since Disney, I could run without my legs feeling like pillars of cement. My breath was good, my pace was consistent, my body & mind all synced together in that wonderful harmony that happens during a good run. And no rain fell...by the time I got home, there was blue sky peeking through the clouds, a perfect match to my sunny mood.

Sometimes, we need to be held accountable. I need it. My running is often such a solo activity - just me and my shoes - and there is no one I'm letting down (but myself) if I skip a run, or two or three. Thank you, Tracey, Anna, Becky, Tara and every one else for being my virtual running buddies!

I ran 4.2 miles in 45:09 and I felt free.

busy day, but made my run

2010-03-25T21:15:00.002-04:00

So, here's how my day played out: up at 7-ish and had a few quiet minutes with the hubby to chat & sip coffee before he heads upstairs to get ready for work & I make his lunch. Claire is up by 7:40, and we read "Harold and the Purple Crayon" (oh, I love that book! it's one of the books I read to Claire while I was pregnant). Glenn leaves, and I say to Claire, "Let's hang up your name letters!" She's all excited because it's been almost 2 months since we moved and still her things aren't on the walls of the room she and Sarah share. I hang up things, clean & dust her room (while she uncleans her room...gggrrr...). Then, I go and sort several loads of laundry and start the first of what is four loads. Sweep and wash the floor. Wash some walls in the kitchen & parlor (years of finger prints and dust). Keep doing laundry. Play with Claire. Laundry. Clean Claire's room again. Laundry. Make rice for dinner that night. Laundry. Read to Claire. Draw Mickey Mouse with Claire. Finally change out of pjs and into running clothes. Start to make dinner. Realize I am missing one ingredient, go to store, come home, finish making supper (into the oven it goes). Glenn is minutes from home, I call him and say, "I'm going on a run. Dinner's in the oven."

Phew. All of that just to get through to my run. It was a lovely day for it. Almost 70 degrees. And after everything I did around the house today, I was ACHING for a run. I was close to that "if mommy's not happy, no one's happy" place, and the one thing that makes this momma happy is running. Leave all your worries behind.

As I hit the road (much too fast...I ran my first half mile in blazing speed, 4:02) I could feel my shoulders lift, my tight back unwind, and my legs stretch out. The air was warm, and I was oh so happy for this time to be free. Oh so happy that I have a wonderful husband who supports me as I pass off three hungry kids (and one or two kinda grumpy ones) the second he walks in the door from work.

I slowed down my run - there was no way I could ever keep up an 8 minute pace for 3 miles! But I was loving the run. After yesterday's migraine, being on the road felt delicious. And with the weather turning cold this weekend, I was glad to hit 70*!

My run: 3 miles in 31:39 and loving every second.

migraines...

2010-03-23T20:30:00.002-04:00

They suck. Big time.

I've had the root of one winding its way through my body...ouch my eye hurts, vision is a bit wonky. My neck, shoulder, arm and face all tingly, and not that good tingly you feel after a couple of drinks. More like that annoying tingly your face feels as the novacaine your dentist gave you before drilling starts to wear off...I'm hoping that the excedrin migraine I'm taking will stop the migraine, but all the medicine is doing is moderating the symptoms a bit...GO AWAY! I want to run tomorrow.

Since I was one of those "fortunate" Americans who had NO HEALTH INSURANCE for the longest time, I didn't have and couldn't afford a prescription for some migraine meds. My momma gave me a couple of her pills, and I hold onto them for the extremist of cases. This migraine, so far, isn't falling into that category. But, I do want to run tomorrow evening, and now that Glenn has made an honest woman out of me and I have insurance (woohoo!), I just may take my last trexemet tomorrow...

That's the plan any way.

being relaxed at running

2010-03-22T10:52:00.003-04:00

Sometimes being a relaxed runner means that you don't run at all...

I want to run. I'm not at that mental place that most runners come to where you dread going out for a run, where tying on your shoes is a chore worse than cleaning the toilet, where every ounce of you is screaming that the couch is the place your butt belongs.

No, I want to run. I look out my car window as I go here & there about my errands that make up life and see other runners sporting their running tights or baggy shorts, legs pumping, looking fit and graceful, and I long to be out there too...But, it's just not happening.

For more than a year, I've lived with all these What-Ifs floating around like I've been living inside some chaotic snow globe that a cruel giant keeps shaking and not waiting for all the glitter to settle before she picks it up and shakes the globe again. Well, all that glittery snow is beginning to land. I'm trying to settle into a new routine. Now that I've finally moved to Lebanon, now that Glenn and I are married, now that budgets are created and work is settled and a one-year plan is drafted...Well, now I've got to figure out where that little glittery piece that says "RUN" on it fits in.

And I DID just come back from a week at Disney World. I did do that half marathon, I did spend seven straight days walking on my feet (and even running 13.1 miles), so I guess a week or two off is well deserved...But, I miss running. The one, quick run I went on last week, 2.2 miles, was squeezed in to a Wednesday full of chores & Claire-care & dinner prep & laundry & looking at a house to see if we want to buy it...I had 25 minutes to run and that's what I did (21:14 for the run and 3:46 for a shower) and while it was great to be on the road on a glorious day, I was so stressed to run and be back within my narrow window, that it was hard to listen to my body, to settle my mind, to rest in the rhythm of the pace. It wasn't really relaxed at all.

So, I'll wait. I'll wait until I can run MY way - with as much time as it takes to run whatever miles I feel like running that day. No plan, no pace goal, just me and the road and my shoes and the sun.

just like mommy

2010-03-16T14:26:00.010-04:00

claire & granny didi doing some pre-race stretching

The best way to give the gift of a healthy lifestyle to your children is to model that lifestyle. I've been trying to model this for my daughter Claire...in fact, I took up running about 3 months after she was born (thanks in part to her colic, which was only soothed to sleep if I walked her in her stroller, which I did, 7 or 8 miles a day...it was only a very short leap to running once I'd accomplished 16 m/m while pushing a stroller up hills).

Any way, I've only raced a handful of times, but I've tried to have Claire there to see them - to feel the energy, to hear the people shouting "yay" and ringing cowbells, to see me trot by in my running tights...Claire loves that I run and has been aching to run with me. Once or twice, we've played at racing, running up & down our driveway with homemade bib numbers. But when I've asked Claire if she liked it, she always said, "I guess...but there were no people saying 'yay.'" For Claire, a race is when people are there to cheer you on, you get a finishers medal, and have a bib number.

Then, lo & behold, I sign up for the Disney Princess Half and discover that there is a kids' race the day before. Reading about the race I discover that for a nominal fee (like $10), Claire will have her own bib number (just like mommy), get a race day t-shirt (just like mommy) and a finisher's medal (just like mommy)! I sign up my budding runner and is she every excited! One day at Target, I get her her first running outfit (cute tech tee and matching running skirt...just like mommy).

On Kids Race Day, Claire, her Granny Di (my mommy), and I head to the ESPN complex. The track & field part are swarming with parents and kids, there's a lot of confusion, and the booming voice of whomever's emceeing adding to the bedlam. The three of us trot out onto the field and dance our warm-ups. I've got some fantastic memories of tiny, blond Claire dancing MJ's "Thriller".

Finally, it's time to race...Claire is in with all the wee little ones. Her birthday has her in the 1-3 yr old group running the 100m, but she is by far one of the oldest kids there (I should've moved her to the 200m with the 4 yr olds). 1-3 yr old is too wide of an age range - there were kids there who were just walking, a bajillion parents holding wee ones, and a couple capable kids like Claire. We're all lined up waiting...waiting...waiting...Apparently, Disney in its wisdom decided to have the 1m race first, so all the older bigger kids begin (keeping several hundred wee ones calm for the 25 minute wait was torture on most parents...) Claire was into the race enough to be happy cheering for all the big kids running the mile, passing us for the finish line. A few parents ran with their kids, which got me thinking that I could probably have sing Claire up for the mile and we could've run, walked, and carried her through it...

It's just about our turn. Claire says to me, "Mommy, you don't have to run this with me like all the other parents are. I know how to run by myself." My big girl!!

I step to the side, allowing Claire to jockey for her position. She seems like this wee little thing lost in a forest of big Mommy & Daddy legs. But she is feeling so big and so proud! We wait a bit more...and finally the 100 meter race starts!

Claire begins running. She runs slowly, with big bounding steps and the moms and dads pull ahead...20 meters in and finally the pack clears and Claire has space to run. The sun is hot & bright and she is loving the way her ponytail shadow is bouncing, so she's running while looking at her shadow - she's found that pure joy! big huge smile on her face...I jog ahead to take pictures and am yelling "yay Claire! Go Claire!!" but every time I pull a few steps ahead, she begins a faster surge...

And then it's done, too soon! I hug Claire and she is laughing she is so happy with herself. We go get her medal and I tell her I want a picture of her with the medal on. And still so proud of herself, Claire raises one arm in the arm in that classic (and I guess primal, because who ever taught her that?) pose of pure happyness and victory and pride!!

Just like mommy!

destination: disney!

2010-03-15T14:05:00.001-04:00

some members of our group, on a chilly friday nite!

About a year ago, an online running group I'm a member of decided to get together at Disney World and run their Princess Half Marathon in March 2010. This seemed a fantastic idea: meet some amazing women who are all my running (and life) role models, have fun, run my 2nd half marathon, and take my daughter to Disney.

At first, I was going to take Claire for just a few days to Disney...but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that my almost 4 yr old daughter would have the time of her life schmoozing with her beloved Disney Princesses...and I hadn't had a real vacation in a long time...so I booked us a week in Walt Disney World. It didn't matter that I didn't have a job - that's what credit cards are for and I'm helping our sluggish economy...And for added fun, I decided to take my mom along for the trip.

Here are the lessons I've learned about my first Destination Race and that I've discovered about racing at Disney World.

1. Bring a camera. Everyone says so, and everyone is right! Not only are some of your fellow runners decked out as princesses or wicked witches (and a few prince charmings!) but Disney has cast members out all over the place. I got more face time with the characters than my 4 yr old did...including ALL the fairies from Pixie Hollow, something I'm not sure you can find other wise at Disney.

2. Leave behind any hopes for a PR. Or even being close to your slowest race time. Heck, leave your watch at the hotel room. My girlfriends and I started out at the way back of the pack and there we stayed. Though we were running this race, we actually kept pace with the walkers because, well, we were camera-happy. There wasn't a character meeting that we didn't stop to shoot. We got some fantastically fun pictures...and that takes time...like an hour!our first mile...notice the time! (ok, we started 30 minutes after everyone else...but still, shows you how the race went for us!)

3. There are woods to pee in. Pee there. Even though Disney had more port-a-potties than any other race I've seen, often the lines were long (and who wants to wait in a line when there are photo-ops with Princess Aurora and Maleficent the witch?) and by the time we at the back got to the potties, they were indescribably gross. Peeing behind a palm bush at 7:42 am was a serene moment of beauty.

4. The Disney property is HUGE with lots of vast undeveloped space in between the parks. And this is where most of the race happens. While this might disappoint some who hoped for more inside views of the parks during the quiet early morning hours, I loved seeing a bit of the central Florida countryside - there were some very beautiful moments of mists rising off the wet, swampy places, Spanish Moss slightly swaying in the breeze, the sunrise tinting the sky colors any princess would die to wear to a ball.

5. Here is my MOST IMPORTANT LESSON: do not, I repeat, do not, try to tour the parks for days in advance of the race! My poor feet! My poor quads! My poor back, hamstrings, inner thigh muscles and other places I didn't even know could ache all ached! After 11 hours of touring the Magic Kingdom on Thursday, 9 hours at Animal Kingdom, and then another 9 hours at Magic Kingdom the day before the race, by the time my body reach the 9 mile mark of the race I was done. And I still had Hollywood Studios to do later on that day!

6. Do this race with your girlfriends! This isn't a race to run by yourself...this is a race to get your glam on with your gal-pals and hoot & holler your way to the finish line. Wear a tutu and a tiara - you'd be surprised how comfortable running in these are! And being at Disney really does make you feel like a princess...at home my girls just roll their eyes at me for strutting around in an orange tutu doing laundry or cleaning the bathroom while wearing my little jeweled tiara.me and my little princess at the end of the race