Heat Wave

Note:  I've never seen the movie advertised in the image above, I just like the image.
 
Holy crap has it been hot around here!  And while I don't mind the heat per se, I do mind the accompanying humidity and lack of breezes, and that makes me crabby.  The heat has also had a negative effect on my training/running schedule:  I'm at work for 7:30 am (with a 25 minute drive), and I am NOT a morning person (mornings = Crabby Rachel).  Morning workout? Not gonna happen.  Evening workout? Well, that's when I'll run, but I get home from work around 6 or 6:30 pm, chit chat with Daughter #2, read through the mail, etc. etc. and then before I know it, it's 9 pm.  

And there's absolutely nothing wrong with running at 9 pm! If you've had dinner already (which I usually haven't during the week) and have a relatively short (< 7 miles) run on tap.  And now that I'm ready to pick up my training for my fall marathon (which I still  haven't registered for), well, you can see my dilemma.

I can do one of these things:  
1) Get up at 5 am each morning for a cool, quiet run and save weights for the afternoons at work with the teenagers;
2) Get home from work earlier than 6 pm so I can eat a little something before running/weights;
3) Do my weight training at work before I drive home, then run immediately when I get home.

I do not want to run out by work as there are too many hills and not enough trees.  Its really only for the next two or three weeks, until my summer programming is completed.  And I *think* the heat wave is blessedly on its way out.  Which means upping the training, which means making a plan, which means making a commitment.  

UGH! Throw into this mix a week in Washington, DC for work, followed by a family wedding, and that puts me into September already.  See? Its hard being me.  

Now, those new running shoes aren't going to wear themselves out, are they? Week 7 of the Hanson's Plan?:  bring it on, minus the heat.  And minus the crabs.

SOS: What No Woman Wants to Hear

That's right:  its time to get serious about training again.  I've got some races picked out, and am ready to really focus on my performances.  I bought this book hoping that the author would tell me something like..."You're perfect the way you are! You just need to be doing 50-60 miles per week, that's all."  Instead, what I got was "Lose 10 pounds."

Oh, frr rrlllll?!

So frustrating.  I mean, I know that. But who really wants to hear it? And I've been trying to lose those proverbial "last ten pounds" since they found me.  My diet, by the way, is stellar, with the exception of a very robust sugar addiction.  Which, according to the author, I should try to feed with fruits and dark chocolate. *GAAAAAGGGGG*  to the dark chocolate (for  a primer on my strange food preferences, please go here and here ). 

So, now that my summer programming is under way at work, my grad class is over for the term, and I have a bit of a regular routine I can follow, I'll need to start incorporating certain things into my life if I want to be in "peak performance" for my upcoming races.  Like, breakfast everyday (duh). And more carbs (so, my preference for PB & J sandwiches can be indulged).  And more lean protein (note to self:  make friends with local fishermen).  And less sugar (DOH!). 

I guess I should also start running regularly again if I want to creep closer to that 4-hour marathon finish I want so badly.  And start doing some weight training again.  And start getting 8-9 hours of sleep each night.  And probably should start figuring out a way to save the starving children of the world, cure cancer, and end partisan politics.  What am I, Wonder Woman?  There's no way that last item is achievable.

I always have such good intentions when starting a training program, and am usually pretty good at holding myself to my commitments, exercise-wise.  But like I mentioned in my last post , I've been struggling.  There's no impetus.  Yes, I have races in mind, but have I registered for them yet? Nope.  Part of my resistance might be my propensity toward always looking forward to the next thing, and not focusing on the day-to-day, the here-and-now.  If I could afford it, I'd hire a personal trainer and a nutritionist.  And a personal chef.  And, of course, I'd be so fabulously wealthy that I wouldn't have to go to work each day, so my workouts could be my job.

Fantasy Me:  Brock, what does our workout entail today?

Brock, Fantasy Trainer: Fuel first, ma'am! Your chef has a great breakfast here for you. And your assistant should schedule you a post-workout massage. We're going to do some mile reapeats with plyo drills in between.

Fantasy Me: *sigh* I just don't know when I'll have time for that massage, what with that interview with the Nobel Prize committee and all.

Just Jack, Fantasy Personal Assistant:  And there's the fitting for your gown for the Met Gala, plus lunch with Anna Wintour, that crazy bitch!

Fantasy Me:  Oh, now, she's just so misunderstood, Jack, you know that.

Just Jack: *eye roll* 

Brock: I know its hard being you, ma'am, but we need to focus now.

 

See? Fantasy life is so much easier to navigate than real life.

But back to the exercising: the title of this post is the truth.  No woman wants to hear she needs to lose weight, even if at first glance she doesn't seem overweight (and yes, I know that I am more slender than many Americans).  So I am asking for tips and advice from my fellow runners: 

What has worked for you when you've wanted to lose weight?

Can it be as simple as "Eat and exercise more"? Because yes, I've had people suggest that I'm not taking in enough calories for the amount of exercise I'm doing.  I've even started making recovery drinks with chia, and added it to my oatmeal or yogurt.  And honestly, I'm not looking forward to the midfulness that eating properly requires.  But if you want to lose the weight and run faster, Rachel...

SOS, friends...

Mojo

Yep.  Mine got up and left.  WTF?! I was on such a high after my last marathon, and now...nothin'.  Makes me crabby.

*sigh*

I could blame it lots of things, I suppose:  work, grad school, stress, only having 24 hours each day.  But really, I think I might be...you know...the "l" word?...lazy.

AAARRRRRGGHHHH! I can't even bring myself to pull my running gear out of the dresser, much less put it on and go running.  I haven't even participated in the Fit Club we have at work for the teenagers (in my defense, school just ended, and there is a two-week lag in programs ending & starting up again).  Tony Horton has not looked at me through the television screen and whispered conspiratorially that he wants to see me "jump like a cat." Mee-ooowww!

Okay, so I did run once since the race- a local 5K on Memorial Day-and my time was decent (25:25 or 8:10/mile).  But that was two weeks after the race, and I haven't done anything since then.  I have had no drive, no desire, no impetus, no anything.  I have a giant case of "blah is me." 

So I guess I'm asking for some guidance.  I know when my next local race is- Firecracker 5 Mile Run, July 2nd- but beyond that, the rest are scheduled so far into the future that I really don't feel any pressing need to get out there and work it, you know? And I know that I should be out there laying down some base miles before my training plans kick in, and that I should be watching my diet (and maybe even re-evaluating my diet?), and that I should care more. 

But I just don't.

Could it be that my break from running post-marathon has been too long? Maybe I should have gotten right back into the swing of things? I don't know.  I'm thinking that perhaps I need to find some sort of other goal, unrelated to running/fitness, that I should work towards in hopes that the boost to other parts of my psyche will work wonders for my running life.  That is my hope.

But for now, only having access to 24 hours each day, I can't fathom taking an hour or two for myself when there's a research paper to be written, daughters to spend time with, bills to get paid, jobs to go to...I could go on. 

We have had a terrible, cold spring here, and then last week? About three or four days of HEAT, the likes of which hardly ever come around (it was heavenly!).  And now its back to cold, rainy, overcast, yuck.  Those three or four days got me thinking about Vitamin D- you know, the "sunshine vitamin?" I felt soooo much better on those days, and am considering adding more Vitamin D to my gummy multivitamin each day.  Thoughts???

Whatever I come up with- a different goal, different vitamins, different eating habits- I know it needs to be, well, different.  Like I said earlier:  AAARRRRRGGGGHHHH. 

Me, The Hansons, The Hansens, and a New Racing Approach

Over the past few years, I have moved my marathon running life from the "train to finish the race upright" to "set a goal time and hit it." You see, I never really intended to ever run a single marathon, much less the two-dozen plus I've finished. I will always and forever blame my running life, with a smile and fondness, on my departed father-in-law.

But this post? This post is about my last race:  the Cellcom Green Bay Marathon .  It all started with the registration form, and a chat with my friend, Fast Jessica.

FJ:  So, which training plan are you using this time? The same one as for Chicago?
Me: Um, no.  I liked that last plan, but I'm thinking about the Hanson's plan that was just in Runner's World.
FJ:  Wait, doesn't that one have like, NO rest days or something crazy like that?
Me:  Yep.  Something like that.

So, the Hanson's plan I followed (almost) religiously, can be found as a part of this article .  The biggest selling point for me was that my longest run was only 16 miles.
I know, right?!

FJ:  So, with this plan, your longest long runs are only 16 miles?
Me: Yep.
FJ:  I don't know, Rach.  I think I'd just feel better if you came out and ran an 18- or 20-miler with me.
Me:  Nah, I'll be fine.

So, like I said, I didn't follow the plan exactly, but I was sure to hit the key strength/speed workouts, and those mid-week long runs, many at MP or faster.  I should say now that I'm no speed demon, I've never qualified for/run Boston, and my PR to date for the marathon has been my 4:25:xx finish in Green Bay last year, after gaining a new PR in Tucson the December before (side note:  NOT a fan of Pam Reed, and anytime there is too much wind or a bad finish area, its her fault.  Just go with it.).  So for me, chipping away at time at a steady pace is key, and for this race, I'd be happy with a new PR by even one minute. Remember, I've only recently started caring about my finish times. Aaaannnnnd onward.

Fast forward to about three weeks pre-race.  Fast Jessica and I are out for a run that was supposed to be easy for both of us.  It was windy (Pam Reed's fault again), and we had to hit 7 miles before we'd have the wind at our backs rather than our faces.  Now, as I've mentioned before, when FJ and I run together, we talk.  And when we talk, we (okay, maybe just me) go faster than prescribed.  We hit 7, and ease up on the pace, finishing up our 10 miles feeling great.  Our average pace was about 8:40/mile.  Remember:  this is me, in a headwind for 7 miles, on a scheduled "easy" day.

FJ:  Bro, you're totally gonna hit that PR in Green Bay.
Me:  You think?
FJ:  Um, yeah.  We just ran that 10 waaayyy faster than last time.  You're gonna nail it.
Me: Huh.

Its at this point in time that I realize I don't have a hotel booked yet.  Oops.  This is also the point in time where I begin to doubt myself, my training (Maybe I should have taken FJ up on that 18-miler offer...), and generally feel like crap.  This time, my car also broke down, adding another layer of crappiness.  So, I'm out to lunch with a friend of mine- Mrs. Hansen-  on Good Friday,and we're talking about the upcoming race.  She and her hubby are both running the half, and I ask where they're staying.  Half laughing, I ask if we can have a slumber party that weekend.  She blinks, blinks again, and says "Well, I don't see why not.  I'll ask Mr. Hansen and let you know."  Frrr rllll?  Text a few hours later: "Mr. Hansen says the slumber party is a go."  Sweet!

Spirits boosted, I finish the training, and drive to Green Bay Saturday morning, tailgating the Hansens, and praying that the other Hansons have got my back with this training, even if I only make it through 16 miles.

Pre-race dinner is a ton of sushi at Nakashima Japan.  The Hansens and I order about nine of everything, and have so much fun.  I've never felt so relaxed the eve before a race, never before forgot about what it was I was going to wake up and do the next morning, never before toasted tomorrow with such gusto and joy.  Anyways, check it out:

I don't think I need to say that we had leftovers for post-race celebrating.  Early to bed, and early to rise.  Race day will be here before you know it...

Morning.  One cup of coffee with about 7 or 8 of those creamer cups, a banana, and a packet of instant oatmeal mixed with yogurt.  Big ol' Gatorade brought along for the ride to Lambeau Field .  A few pre-race photos on the iPhone, gear check, iPod set to go, in the crowded starting corrals, speeches by people I don't know, the Star Spangled Banner, pump up music blaring, a little House of Pain , and the gun goes off.

I situate myself with the 4:15 pace group, and decide to stick with one of the three pacers no matter what.  I feel great, I'm not checking my watch, and the pace feels incredibly easy.  This is good.  The Hansons know what they're doing.  So far, so good.

It stays this way for awhile.  I start chatting up the male pacer (can't remember his name), and only around mile 12 do I notice that the rest of the pace group is nowhere to be found.  Pacer Dude says: "Well, we'll just have some extra time to bank for when we hit the river.  The wind is gonna be nasty."  Now, I knew that the day was going to be windy.  I watch The Weather Channel, I know these things that you should do before a race.  25-30 mph wind with gusts of 50 mph+, is what the forecast said.  And up until this point, the wind was gusty, for sure, but nothing worse than I'd had on training runs along Little Bay de Noc.  And then I realized what he was talking about.  From mile 14-22-ish, we'd be running along the Fox River.  With a head wind the entire way.  Again, I blame Pam Reed, and just put my chin down and run.  What can I do at this point, anyway?

My splits at this time are pretty steady: 9:18 through mile 5, 9:25 at mile 10, 9:20 at the half, 9:26 at mile 15.  And then it gets windy.  Relentlessly windy.  And please, let me remind you that wind is indeed, Mother Nature's most annoying element.

I tried really really really hard to not be negative.  Mantras played over and over in my head to a soundtrack of carefully chosen songs:  You can do this.  One foot in front of the other.  Be strong.  Catch  (fill in with description of random runner ahead of me).

I'll admit to some swearing.  I'll be the first to admit to dropping a few (dozen) f-bombs, plus a few exasperated "Really?!"-s thrown in for good measure.  Pace at mile 20 is 9:39, and I am tired.

By the time I hit mile 23, I am mentally broken.  My legs feel fine, and so I try to focus on that aspect during the remaining miles rather than how exhausted I am from talking myself though almost 8 miles of strong winds.  (side note:  the Tucson Marathon was exactly  the same:  a head wind from miles 14-24, with no let up. Stupid Pam Reed.)

I see Fast Jessica wrapped in mylar right around the Jimmy Buffet water stop, right before you get back to Lambeau Field.  She is smiling and cheering me on, and I wave and give the "thumbs up" sign.  I get to Lambeau, enter the tunnel and am just about to hit the inside track when I pause for just a minute.  A guy behind me says:  "You can't stop now.  I've been chasing you for the last four miles.  You're almost done."  Now, for a newly single gal to hear that a guy has been chasing her? For four miles? Nice.  Just the boost I needed to pick up the pace, run the track, exit the tunnel, and see the Hansens hoisting beers up high, screaming my name.  I cross the finish line in 4:20:xx.

FJ meets me at the exit, and we high five and hug.

FJ:  How do you feel? You looked great coming in, really strong.

Me:  My legs feel great.  I'm mentally beat, though.  That wind was nasty.

FJ:  It's all Pam Reed's fault.

Me:  Of course.

FJ:  So you're happy with your time?

Me:  Yeah, I'll take it.

FJ:  Good.  Because there's talk that the course was long.

Me:  Huh.

I meet up with my slumber party Hansens, we toast the other Hansons for a good race plan, and head back to the hotel.  We amble to the pool area, and settle in to the hot tub fully clothed. I know!!! Its gross, but really, I never shower after training runs, either, and only one lady was in the hot tub, and she too, was fully clothed.  So there.

The next day, its announced that the course was indeed long, and that finish times would be adjusted.  My new PR? 4:19:24.  I'll take it.

As I've thought back to that weekend, I've decided that a few things are for sure.  1) The Hansons training plan feels good for me.  There's a good balance of structure and leeway.  And only 16 mile long runs. 2) Good friends like the Hansens can help you relax and remember why you run in the first place- because its fun. 3) A good training partner is worth their weight in gold.  No matter that Fast Jessica is faster than I am, the concern and interest she took in my race was appreciated. 4)  I can totally beat that time.  If I can only get Pam Reed the heck away from me...

Happy running, friends.  Let's hope your next finish line photo is as joyful as mine.

Rituals

So. Runners are curious creatures. We are particular, and for those of us for whom marathon running/racing is the preferred poison, our craziness is heightened during a period before the race known as "tapering." This is the critical one-to-two week period before the race where runners are encouraged to rest up for the big day. This is incredibly difficult to do.

For me, anyway. Some people love the taper. I would love the taper more if I didn't have to sit still so much, or gain an extra five pounds from being sedentary. Or if I weren't a runner at all.

Anyhoo, there are certain rituals I follow during the taper: increased carbohydrate intake, extra bicep curls and tricep maneuvers (so my arms look hot in my race photos), laying out different top/tank/skirt/shorts/capri combinations for race day attire (because 90% of feeling good on race day comes with the right wardrobe)...and then there are the medals.

Huh? Well, at the end of every marathon, this is what happens to a runner:
1) The last .2 miles are spent talking yourself into really finishing, and finishing strong, i.e. sprinting to the finish line. Or as close as you can muster a sprint-type movement.
2) In one smooth action, you smile, stop your watch, raise your arms victory-style, let out a sigh of relief, and cry as you cross the finish line. The raising of the arms & attempted smiles are important as your photo is being taken. Yay! You're done!
3) Cry more, but make it look like its exhaustion, not emotions taking over your brain. Sunglasses help.
4) Hear volunteers tell you "Congratulations!" and "Good job!" and "You did it!" while they simultaneously drape a mylar blanket over your shoulders and drape the finisher's medal over your head.
5) Find beer.

The medal is what counts here, as it is the actual proof of the race being run. Some people might think "Well, where did all of those t-shirts come from?" A t-shirt does not guarantee that a person has run the race advertised on said shirt. My "was-band" used to wear some of my race shirts, and as he stood outside of buildings- smoking a cigarette- complete strangers would ask him about the races. True story. Some races don't hand out the t-shirts even until the finish line ( Grandma's Marathon , I'm lookin' at you).

But the medal.

Some are pretty. Some are hefty. They are all, however, a memento of the day, the race itself, the training leading up to the day, the runner's life on that date. They are symbols of a biography, written in steps and sweat rather than words. I love my medals.

And so, during the taper, when I'm not running (but thinking about running all the time) I take out my medals and arrange them in chronological order, in the straightest line possible, edges just touching, ribbons folded just so. I count them, brush dust off of them with my shirt tail. Half-marathon medals are also there, in order, but inserted just above the full medals. Some days, I can't believe I've really run all those races; other days, I can't believe I haven't done more. Every day I'm glad that I'm able to run.

This weekend, I took out my medals. They've been living in a box since the Fall 50 , and were at my old house. I took them out, one by one, marveling once again at the sense of accomplishment I feel just holding them. I dusted them off, straightened the ribbons, and first grouped them by race. There are multiple years from the same race ( Chicago , Grandma's , Green Bay ), and I love tracing the evolution of the race with the logo and ribbon colors. This year, though, I noticed something was wrong. I was missing a medal.

The Detroit Free Press Marathon medal. 2004. I ran with my friend, Jennifer, her first (and to date, only) marathon. My father-in-law ran with my sister, Katie. He had flown in from Vietnam the day before after being gone for a month. Katie had a bird shit on her head while we exchanged high fives passing on & off Belle Isle. We got dizzy running through the Detroit-to-Windsor tunnel. I rode back to the Upper Peninsula smushed in the back of my in-laws' Jeep Wrangler, hugging a month's worth of backpacking gear that still smelled like Vietnam (or what I guessed Vietnam had to smell like). My legs ached for the last three hours of that drive.

And so, I've enlisted the help of Daughter #1 to find the medal. I know its in the old house somewhere. I hope she's able to find it before my race next weekend. While I'm not especially superstitious, I've always laid out the medals before a race, and I've always finished the races I've entered. Coincidence? Maybe. I'm not willing to mess with a ritual that has served me thus far; and I'm not sure that I'm willing to write a chapter in my autobiography of running about "That One Time I Didn't See ALL of My Medals, and The Universe Gave Me The Shaft on Race Day."

There's comfort in consistency, no? And while I'm all about embracing changes, this is one I don't think I can add to my plate just yet. Next week is my spring marathon- Green Bay - and so my next blog entry will be a recap of that day. Picture of medal to follow. Happy running, friends.

Transition to Spring

Once again, I've plundered my "From the Editor" pieces from my running club's newsletter, with this piece from 2009. Enjoy.

How do you know when something is over? I don't mean something like an event or a movie or a song; I mean something more abstract, like an era, a movement, a feeling? A season?

Don't tell me you haven't pondered this before. Everybody , at some point in time, has wondered "When will this be over?!" For us runners, we often find comfort in the concrete routines of our sport: the familiar local races year after year, the same runners crossing paths through the park or along the trail, the constant cycle of training/tapering/racing/resting for the marathoners in our ranks, and the smiling faces in the crowd, wishing us luck. Those things we can rely on, can't we? Take them one-by-one and mull over each awhile.

Local races: they seem to organize themselves, don't they? And yet anyone who has helped plan, organize, and direct a race knows this is most certainly not the case. Do we mourn the dedication of the race staff and volunteers when we search for a registration form, only to find a notice that the race is no longer being held?

What about the people we see along our regular routes? Or the same people we see on the treadmills next to us at the local YMCA? Do we notice when they don't appear around the playground at mile three, or do we only catch their absence once the run is complete? When do we realize and accept that they may have *gulp* stopped running?

I don't think I need to expound on the craziness that is the marathoner's life, but that constant motion is part of the collective memory we have in reference to certain friends, right? I mean, we all have a friend or acquaintance who qualifies for and then runs the Boston Marathon each year. What if...they stopped?

And those faces in the crowd! If you're lucky, you'll be running long enough to see certain shifts in the position of the crowd. The speedy middle-aged guy in front of you three years ago is now more comfortable pacing his buddy, and may even drop out of the race once he's confident in his charge's performance. Eventually he'll make his way towards the middle and then the back of the pack. Before you know it, he'll be relegated to collecting registration forms and fees and handing out race t-shirts.

Spring is a transitional season for runners: we move from bundled up freaks wearing face masks and shed our layers of gear to reveal the (hopefully) lithe runner's body underneath. Those bodies hidden in the dormancy of winter are just aching to go, to move, to be seen.

And then.

We are obligated to ponder the transitions around us, we are forced into the uncomfortableness of change. At what point does a runner become a non-runner? When does a passion become a chore? When does the relationship get so comfortable that it is taken for granted? When does the season really change? Who can pin-point that? Not I, said the cat. And yet, I'm not sure I'd want to know, lest I apply my runner's sensibilities to resurrecting something that just may be better off left to fade away.

Don't forget to give thanks for those daily markers in your life. Quick now, before they fade away.

Things are Looking Up

Its funny how seemingly small things or events can help shift your outlook. I know I've kinda been a whiner lately, but I've tried very hard to remain optimistic. Little surprises help, and so do good, solid workouts (well, for me, anyway).

Like last weekend: I had a very busy morning on Sunday, but then met Tha Doctah and another friend, Pasquatch (don't ask) at our local arts center to help hang a new gallery show. It was so lovely to go back to my artist's roots for an hour or so, to debate why one painting should go here and not over there. And then a cup of coffee and catch up time? Nice. I thought for sure my day would end there, that I'd pick Daughter #2 up from her dad's house, and my weekend would be gone.

But NO!

I had originally planned to do a nice evening run with my friend, Fast Jessica. Then I had to cancel because I thought I was doing taxes. Then the taxes thing got moved, and I was able to run after all. So confusing!

Side note: Fast Jessica is named such because she is a much faster runner than I am. She has always been one of those runners at local races that people whisper about: Is Jessica here today? I wonder what her time will be. Or one July 4th Firecracker run, courtesy of my father-in-law: I just got chicked. By a pregnant lady pushing a jogging stroller. She is a force to be reckoned with.

Anyway, we got together for our run, and planned on an easy 7-miler out & back, uphills on the way out, downhill on the way back. Awwwww, yeah! The plan was to go out easy, then let the road speed us up after the turn around. Well, something that usually happens when Jess & I run is that we talk. I KNOW! As we talk, we sometimes- okay, all the time- go faster than expected. This is significant because, like I mentioned earlier, she is Fast Jessica, and I am me.

I've noticed something happening to me, though, since I've been running more with FJ: I've gotten faster, and I've been happier about running. The benefits of a running partner, right? Well, its something that I was lacking after my first running partner- my father-in-law- died during a local half-marathon. I have missed the camaraderie of a regular running partner, of regular routes and workouts, and of the push you receive from said partner. I'm so thankful for FJ.

Back to the run: we started out fast, and got faster. Downhill on the turnaround, remember? What was supposed to be a chill run turned in to an exercise in running strong whilst tired. We celebrated the good run- and FJ's birthday (25! Again!)- with pizzas and grocery store cake courtesy of Uncle Winga. An evening of great conversation and friendship was had, and my weekend was better than expected.

But that's not all. After Daughter #2 was home with me, we sat in my living room: me, nodding in and out of sleep on the big chair with HGTV on the television, and D2 tapping away on the computer. What happened next is what made the weekend move from pretty good to fucking awesome: D2 came over to me and kissed me goodnight. My 15-year-old. It was, to a mother who has never felt entirely maternal, heavenly.

She has continued to do this every night since. It makes me happier than you could ever know.

Good things usually come in threes, right? Mental checklist: awesome run/evening with running friends? Check! Kiss goodnight from formerly surly teenage daughter? Check! Coming home from work last night to find my new running shoes ? Check!

See? Things are looking up. If you focus on the positive, I feel that will reflect back on you, and help change the color of your days from blue to sunshine yellow. Karma, friends. Give thanks for the good, and pay it forward.

Today I Feel...

...discouraged. *sad face*

I know, I know, I know. I'm really trying to be optimistic about everything lately, but this one thing has got me down. And I feel a bit foolish for admitting to what constitutes vanity: I feel fat today.

*cringe*

There, I said it. You're probably asking yourself, "What? Did she gain 100 pounds lately? Did she stop running marathons and turn into a schlump?" No, on both counts. I have been training for my Spring marathon , and I've been eating only healthy foods with minor indulgences (like, the can of Coca Cola I downed in 2.4 seconds yesterday afternoon). But I still feel icky. Bloated. Too big to be considered fit. Unattractive. Regretting my haircut. Like a poser.

This will pass, I know. I know.

I will change into my running clothes after this is posted, run a good six miles or so, and the endorphins and attitude will sweep those thoughts away like dried up leaves on the sidewalk. The sun will shine. I will take a shower. I will reconsider purchasing diet pills and Slim-Fast at Walgreen's. I will feel confident and pretty, and remind myself that a very large percentage of people are so much worse off than I am: so dormant, so uninspired that similar feelings last all day for them. Every day, even.

But for right now, I am left thinking, "What am I doing wrong?!" I exercise. I eat healthily. I get plenty of sleep. The number on the scale goes nowhere. I don't think I'm overweight, per se, but if I could just drop ten pounds or so (or, better yet, the 10% of my body weight that They say will help stave off a buffet of diseases), I'd feel like I'm doing better. Like I have accomplished something. I can hear you muttering, "What?! Because running two or more marathons every year isn't enough under the accomplishments belt? Sheesh."

Let me have my insecurity with this one thing. Just for now, okay? Like I said, it'll pass. I'm just hoping that it'll take those last ten pounds with it.

B & B Club, Revisited

"B & B" Club? Well, back in the day, My Favorite Redhead, Becks and I had a book club. There were good books, good friends (more than just Red and Becks), and good drinks. Hence the moniker "Booze & Books." Please note the order of the wording: booze first. Anyhoo, things happened, gals moved around, lives got busy, and B & B was pushed to the back burner.

Until now. About six weeks ago, Red decided that we should resurrect the Club. Me and Becks were in agreement, and more fabulous women were invited to read the first book of the newly reincarnated "B & B" Club: The Plague of Doves by Louise Erdrich .

Red went to the local bookstore and when she told the clerk that she needed the book for her book club, the clerk told her about the discount offered to local book clubs who register at the store. Sweet! Which brings me back to the naming of the club. "Booze & Books" does not sound like the type of club for dentists' wives, youth program directors, community corrections directors, teachers...you catch my drift? And so it was shortened- abbreviated- to "B & B." And then when we found out that Becks is expecting (!!!), well, our minds just shot off hundreds of new word combinations that the two Bs could stand for. Bottles & Babies, Boobs & Boo-tay, Bruschetta & Bon Bons...I could go on.

And so it is that the re-formed B & B Club will have its first meeting in just three short weeks. I've already finished the book (amazing!), and am now in the menu-planning stages, since the meeting will be here at my house. Gourmet pizzas okay with everyone? Good.

Other news? Well, I ran the Quad Cities Marathon yesterday, and for the first race in a loooonnnnggg tiiiimmmmeee I developed nasty blisters. One on my back ankle about the size of a half dollar, and one on the inside ball of each foot. Ouch. So, the time I was aiming for (about 4:45) was seriously thwarted, and I finished instead in about 5:21. Greatly discouraged, yes; taking a break, yes; planning my next marathon already, yes.

New favorite quotes:

"Fall seven times and stand up eight." - Japanese Proverb

"It's hard to beat a person who never gives up." - Babe Ruth

Have a great week.

Winding Down

Things this summer are certainly doing just that.  My last post was all about how rushed things were for me this summer, and how I was conflicted a bit on which path I preferred to take:  experiences or savoring.  Well, in the photo above, I'm savoring that last bit of carefree fun before the stress of a wedding.  My Favorite Redhead got married to The Mouth Doctor yesterday on Mackinac Island, and it was the loveliest affair.  The guests were some of the best dressed people I've ever seen.  

In choosing the "savor" option yesterday, I did miss out on the circus at work (the "experiences" option).  Oh, yes.  When I say "circus," I mean an actual circus!  The theme for my summer program this year was "Under The Big Top," and so I had the fantastic student ambassadors from Illinois State University's Gamma Phi Circus come to the Great North Woods for a four-day camp with the kids.  The final performance was yesterday afternoon.

I was busy sipping gimlets on the portico of The Inn at Stonecliffe , savoring the start of many years of happiness for two friends.  There was a part of me, however, that missed the excitement of the experience happening at work.  It was just a little part.

What else? Well, last week was the wedding of my younger sister back in Illinois, followed two days later by the Chicago Rock 'n' Roll 1/2 Marathon , where my big sister at some point passed me by, and finished almost two minutes ahead of me!  Way to go!  Its also where, after the run, I met my new boyfriend, record-setting marathoner  Ryan Hall .  See?

 I also stalked the winner of the race,  Kara Goucher, at the CVS the night before the run.  She was buying Sweet & Salty Chex Mix, and I was fumbling with my new Blackberry, trying to get a photo.  I felt like a really big dork, especially since no one else there knew who she was.  

So now I'm certain the summer is winding down, and just when I'm at the point where my schedule is opening up to enjoy it.  Ah, irony, thy name is Perfect Timing.  Have a great weekend.

A Short Musing on Animals

Those of you who know me, even just a little bit, know that I am not an animal lover.  At all.  I don't eat them, don't feel warm and fuzzy when they brush up against my leg, don't revel in their majesty.  Animals in their natural setting don't appeal to me, nor do the ones kept in cages (or barns, kennels, or homes). They annoy me, unless they are like this fella above:  ceramic.  This particular Maneki Neko  was in Restaurant Murata in Portland, OR; yummy sushi, cold sake, and good friends were there, too, but I digress.

What I do love are birds.  Really.  They gross me out and fascinate me at the same time.  I ponder the idea of flight, and wonder just how fabulous it would be to fly yourself anywhere.  I embrace the philosophy of having roots and wings in your life, and in instilling that way of thinking in your children.  Take this:  mother birds do not simply give nourishment to their babies; they chew it up and feed it to them.  Human mothers do the same thing, in a way:  the nourishment they provide their young are the life lessons they've experienced first hand- hard work, disappointment, loss, love- chewed up and spit out as often as intuition dictates. It is a fitting metaphor, this of human mother as bird mother, when you analyze it further.

I've written before about the robin's nest under the eaves of our garage.  Last Spring I even posted pics of the eggs in the nest.  This year, The Robins have returned to our garage (although robins return to their summer range in April, it cannot be said with certainty that this is the same robin from last year), and are on their second clutch.  Mr. Fix has seen the mother bringing food to the nest, and has even seen the babies.  One he got to see up close.  Let me explain...

We have a rabbit (not one of the "pets" Mr. Fix and Daughter #2 insist on keeping) who is terrorizing the garden this year.  I'd like to channel my inner Mr. McGregor and send Peter Rabbit on his way to the big vegetable garden in the sky, but Mr. Fix decided to live trap the bugger so he can be "relocated," like he's a middle-manager in computer software sales and not a wild animal.  So, the live trap is set, and the next morning Mr. Fix checked the trap, and lo and behold, he has caught himself...a baby robin.

This is the little bugger after being set free.  You can see (sorta) the downy feathers still clinging to its head.  I was sitting on the veranda reading a book (The Geography of Bliss by Eric Weiner), when I heard a chirp cheer chirp sound.  I looked down, and there this little bird was, looking up at me, head cocked to one side, as if waiting for me to answer the question:  Are you my Mother?  No, I am not your Mother; I am a Snort. *sigh*

It sat there, looking at me like that, for what seemed like a very long time.  Longer than any other type of wild animal has ever paused before me.  Squirrels spaz out.  Stray cats scurry and hide.  Chipmunks and porcupines and small voles and such remain hidden when I run on trails.  Deer pretend to be surprised to see me (hence the "deer caught in the headlights" phrase), there in my car, speeding down the highway as they try to cross the road.  Stupid deer.

But birds have always lingered, calling out with their songs, waiting for a response.  Cautious.  Deliberate.  Bright.  And then they're gone from their perch like that.  Keep your babbling brook and crunch of feet on pine needles; the soft flap of morning wings or the strong thrust of a bird on the hunt are sounds of nature I like.  

Other musings? I've signed on for another marathon , but first need to tackle an exciting half marathon .  I'm also tackling my *gulp* 20th high school reunion.  Obviously, I've got some interesting weeks ahead of me.  I'll keep you posted.

Travel Makes You Smarter

I'm convinced its true, you know. Not only do you get the experience of visiting a (maybe) new locale, but you get the getting there experience, too. Is there anything better, really, than people watching in the airport?

Last week, my Adventure in Getting Smarter involved a trip to Duluth, MN for Grandma's Marathon . Lake Superior decided to take a mini vacation that weekend, too, so there were no welcoming breezes along the scenic 2-lane, black-topped highway from Two Harbors to downtown Duluth. My (second in two months) attempt at a marathon PR was yet again thwarted (last month, the hills of Cincinnati kept me slow). I need help, is what I learned. And so I've been researching marathon programs, picking the brains of faster friends, and generally becoming obsessed with running.

This week, my Adventure in Getting Smarter involves a little bit of work, a little bit of fun, and even some running. I'm attending a conference in Portland, OR on using the data we gather from testing the kids I work with. Exciting, I know, but Portland is pretty cool. I've been here about eight hours, and not only have I already found a Trader Joe's at which to spend my per diem allowance, but I've also found a local running shop with a Tuesday night running group- "open to everyone, no matter the pace!"

So maybe I'll post again on what, exactly, I learned from this conference. Or maybe I'll post a lot of swear words, crabby from brain drain and data and aggregated results, etc. etc. etc.

Also, Pandora (Internet radio station) is a sanity saver. Check it out, and have a great week.

The Ol' College Try

That, dear readers, is Mr. Fix on the left, and our dear old friend, Freddy, on the right.  I believe they're in their dorm room at the Herman Crown Center downtown Chicago.  Or someone's room.  Dateline 1990.  We recently reconnected with the crew via the magic of the Internet, and its been so good to catch up on everyone's lives.  Of course, catching up has brought back memories of the shenanigans we pulled, the parties we rocked (anyone remember the one at the loft above Trent Reznor's place? And how we kept seeing that white owl?), and the people who have now walked on.  *sigh*

Which brings me to the reason for this post:  college.  Daughter #1 is officially a senior in high school now.  She is also the class president (Among her official duties? Speaking at the commencement ceremony next Spring.) and the drum major for marching band (the music program at her school is top-notch).  All of this means that we now need to look seriously at college options.  My luxurious three-day weekends this summer? Interrupted by the need to visit colleges and give them the thorough once-over.

When I was a high school senior, I had already made up my mind about college.  I visited maybe three colleges, and made up my mind the minute I set foot in Chicago that "THIS is where I belong!"  I loved everything about the city and the campus, and really kinda failed to investigate the more mundane details...like tuition and housing.  Well, my mistakes will be her gain.  Not that I regret my decision- not at all.  Its just that perhaps my parents were less than enthusiastic about my choice (and honestly, there were still going to be six younger mouths to feed once I left for college), and probably were concerned about their lack of ability to help out in any way, shape or form.  What did they know about art school? Nada. It made me develop a thick skin, and a very independent outlook on things. Which I also don't regret.

Right now her choices are pretty general, but I can see her beginning to narrow her focus.  Visiting campuses I'm sure will help things along.  I'm wishing and hoping that the process for her will be as serendipitous as it was for me.  No Chicago = no Mr. Fix or Freddy (or Throb, Thor, Dan, Christian, John, Sandy, Roz & Jen...).  Again, *sigh*

Other than those musings, I'm still in fighting shape and ready to give yet another marathon the Ol' College Try.  This time around its Grandma's Marathon in Duluth, MN.  Weather forecast? Sunny, humid, and 80 degrees.  The high temps lately where I live? 57 degrees.  You can guess how this is gonna go: either I'll acclimate immediately and run great, or I'll buckle and swear the entire run.  I'll keep you posted.

Have a great week, and if you're able, find an old friend and reconnect.  You'll feel good, I swear.

Welcome, Spring!

Say hello to our newest family member, christened Eugene by Daughter #2.  Mr. Fix built him out of scraps in the classroom/shop and brought him home just in time for the long holiday weekend.  Close up? Sure:

I think he needs a propeller on top of his hat, and perhaps even a bowl filled with birdseed on his tray.  Mr. Fix isn't keen on that, as he thinks the birdseed would spray all over the actual garden and sprout unwanted plants.  I think we'll add the propeller, at least.

May is almost over, and somehow I got talked into running another marathon- Grandma's Marathon in Duluth, MN.  I've run it once before, and I remember it was hot and humid, and I had to endure a tour of an ore boat in Duluth's harbor with my family.  I hate boats.  

Yesterday, however, brought another sure sign of Spring in these parts:  my Run & Brunch event.  Me and my running pals ran a local 5K/10K race (PR day for me- 26:21! Woo hoo!), then headed over to my home for a delicious (if I do say so myself) spread that included Mom's Famous Italian Beef, Jet Potatoes, and a Sausage & Apple Frittata.  It was really a lovely way to kick off a holiday weekend. I have the coolest friends.

And so, in the spirit of generosity, I will post the recipe for Mom's Famous Italian Beef.  Enjoy!

Mom's Famous Italian Beef

You need a crock pot that can hold a rolled beef roast, about 4-5 pounds.  I used a roast plus some boneless "country style" beef ribs.  Put the meat in the crock pot.  Add to this:  1-1/2 tsp. oregano, 1 tsp. basil, about 1 tsp. cayenne pepper, some fresh ground black pepper (maybe 1 tsp. or so), 2 cloves crushed garlic, 1 package Italian Dressing Mix (the dry stuff), 1 package onion soup mix (again, the dry stuff), 1/4 c. vinegar, and 3/4 c. water.  I also added a package of fresh sliced mushrooms, just to be different.  Put the crock pot on "high" and leave it alone for 6 hours.  Turn it to "low" and leave it alone for another 2 hours.  Take the roast out of the crock pot and shred it up with a fork.  This will be supremely easy to do, as the meat will literally fall apart as you try to take it out of the pot.  Put the shredded meat back in the crock pot with the juicy goodness and serve warm on rolls (I used mini kaiser rolls) with an assortment of condiments, like dijon mustard, horseradish, and good ol' ketchup.

Yes, you only add one cup of liquid total.  Trust me, it works.  Have a great weekend!

Another Medal for the Collection

Now, that's what I call room service!  That's the stash of food stuffs we had in our hotel room last weekend in Cincinnati.  Ah, yes, the Flying Pig Marathon 2009 edition is now history.  It was incredibly challenging and not at all for beginners.  I was slowed by about one minute per mile, finishing in 4:52 (11:10/mile).  I trained for 10 min./mile.  Did you know about all the hills in southern Ohio? Me, neither.  

When stuff like this happens- when I'm prepared for things to go one way, and they end up going another- I try to focus on the positive.  Its difficult sometimes, especially when so much work has been invested.  So my goal is always to remember that you cannot change the past; you cannot change what has already happened.  All you can do is learn something from it, and move on.  Evolve.  

Mantra:  Any day I can run 26.2 miles is a Good Day.

Mantra:  This is what we do.

Mantra:  It can't be changed; move on.

I guess these mantras are my own little prayers, in a way.  Meditations, affirmations, whatever.  They make me regain my focus and answer the questions:  What do I want? How will I get it? Who else is involved? They work for me.  

This past week has been one of not running (weird), but running assessments of elementary students at work.  May is such a jam-packed month in the education world, and seeing how I'm in that world (and my husband, too), May is one of my least favorite months.  I really cannot wait until its over.  Three weeks until school is done ( but my daughters are in until the second week of June), and then about a one-week reprieve until my summer programming begins.  Ah, summer! Maybe we'll see warm temperatures soon?  I can only hope.

One last mantra:  The miracle isn't that I finished; the miracle is that I had the courage to start. (John "The Penguin" Bingham)

Have a great week!

Wait a Second...

...are those different flavors of Razzles? The delicious treat that is first a candy, then a gum? Yes, it is.  From the top:  a cute card from Katie, Original Razzles, Tropical Razzles, and Sour Razzles.

For those of you not in the know, I am a Connoisseur of all things Candy.  I'm not talking chocolate here (ick, no!); I'm talking sugary, childish goodness.  Blow Pops.  Lick-A-Stick.  Bottle Caps.  Chewy Runts.  Skittles (side note:  I have tried every flavor of Skittle out there, from spearmint & peppermint, to smoothie, to the "Carnival" variety).  The quintessential "kid in the candy store?"  Its me.

I've always loved candy, and I have a mouth full of expensive dental work to prove it.  I had the opportunity to meet up with an old friend this week while I was in Chicago, and our conversation turned to the horrible things we eat and then shrug off because of our exercise habits (he, too, is a marathoner/triathlete).  We should really stop eating things just because their ingestion can be justified by what others deem "unnecessarily extreme" exercise routines.  Or should we?  

99% of the time, I am a wonderfully healthy eater.  No meat, no poultry.  Whole grains.  Tons of fresh fruit & veggies.  Low dairy intake.  Occasional alcohol, occasional soda.  And then someone will throw me a wrench, like...Christmas Eve, when I'm obligated to make Red Velvet Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting.  Who in their right mind would NOT eat this? "I'll get up and run tomorrow...maybe 5 miles..." and down the hatch it goes.

Is this a type of eating disorder? Dunno.  But I do know that if I didn't know my body needed food to function properly, I wouldn't eat half as much as I do.  I've never been a big eater, and really, I can't be bothered so much to stop and nourish myself.  I'm one of those people who is just waiting for the day when all of our daily nutrients can be ingested in pill form, or better yet, in a stick of gum, Willy Wonka-style:  roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy...and blueberry cobbler! Just call me Violet Beauregard!

Other news? T-11 days and counting until race day in Cincinnati.  Just got back from a great conference in Chicago with my Summer staff, and totally enjoyed the city.  I miss Chicago so much, especially when the weather is so fantastic (74 degrees when we left on Friday!).  Plus, I got to reconnect with some high school friends- such fun!  20 year reunion coming up in July (!!!), so I'll definitely have more to write about.  In the mean time, have a great week!

Cold No More

The photo above shows my windbreaker turned inside-out after my last long run before getting sick.  It is shiny and the wetness is my sweat, which froze & turned into ice & stayed trapped inside the jacket until I peeled it off.  Then it began to melt and drip all over the floor.  Kinda gross, I know, but it was only like 10 degrees outside that day and I was layered up beyond belief.  

Today was a different story.  I ran in capris with only a long sleeved technical tee and a vest.  It was sunny and warmer than it has been (about 39 degrees today), and I was able to use the entire running/biking path through the park now that the snow mountains are melting away.  It was lovely and energizing and all of the good things about running.  Plus, my run was fast today:  I was supposed to run at race pace (about 10 minutes/mile), but ended up running way faster than that- 9:15 min./mile.  Like I posted on facebook , "My training is paying dividends!"

Adding to my sense of accomplishment today? Daughter #1 asked when we could take the growing pile of stuff in the upstairs hallway to Goodwill.  I said I'd help her load it in the car & she could take it today.  Her willingness to help (and her shared affliction of Clean Disease) spurred me to further purge my closet, my husband's clothing, and my accessories collection.  Is there anything so satisfying as getting rid of clutter? I think not.

So, now that my computer is updated, my run is complete, my mother-in-law provided leftovers galore for dinner, and the last load of laundry is in the washing machine, it is time to enjoy the last few hours of the weekend.  Here's to a great week!

Keeping It In Perspective

For your reading pleasure, the latest installment of my "From the Editor" column for my running club's newsletter:

In the time-honored tradition of the women’s magazine questionnaire, a quiz of sorts:

Q: What is your motivation for running and/or training this year?
a) To lose those pesky 10 pounds you got for Christmas.
b) To FINALLY hit that race time you’ve been after for 10+ years.
c) To raise awareness for a charity or cause.
d) No one thing- you just love the feel of the wind on your face.
e) To keep your sanity for one more year.

Q: When training for a specific race or goal, you:
a) Do all of your workouts on a treadmill at the gym.
b) Strap on the latest in GPS and heart rate monitor technology.
c) Turn into a loner no one sees except on a training run.
d) Try a little too hard to recruit friends to train/run with you.
e) Keep telling yourself that all of this running keeps you sane.

Q: When discussing your training schedule with others:
a) They look at you like you’re bat-*!#$ crazy and roll their eyes.
b) You spend more time explaining running terms (fartleks, tempo runs, etc.).
c) They ask their doctor friends if what you’re doing is “normal” or “healthy.”
d) They desperately try to change the subject.
e) You justify your running with the phrase: “It keeps me sane!”

Q: You choose your races- marathons, half-marathons, trail runs, 5Ks- based on:
a) Proximity to where you live- no more than an hour from home.
b) Whether or not the course is known for being a fast “PR” course.
c) The size of the racing field- the bigger the better! Its a party!
d) Whether or not costumes are allowed & what the t-shirt looks like.
e) Logistics: Will training for and running this race make me insane?

Q: While reading through these questions:
a) You are proud of yourself and the goals you’ve set for this year.
b) You are really thinking of your next training run & if you have enough Gu.
c) You set the newsletter down because its messing with your mental energy.
d) You’re still thinking about costumes your running group can wear. Super heroes, anyone?
e) You look at your answers and think: People must think I’m insane!

What I really hope you’ve done is laugh at yourself and all of the running community. We tend to get a little caught up in how important we think we are, how special we think our sport is, how noble we think our causes are, and how our lives need to fit around our running rather than how our running can find a comfortable spot in our lives. Spring, more so than New Year’s Day, is the perfect time to reevaluate your life and make changes- new beginnings, you know? And for the record, I answered all of the questions “E!”

Have a great weekend.

72 Days and Counting

Okay, so I've written before about my new Clean Living routine, right? Well a major part of this is training kinda hard for my next marathon. The training schedule I'm following is more intense than what I've done in the past, and this is the first race I've followed a plan for in the past year or so. Sure, I've printed out plans from Runner's World , but I've been pretty lax about following them, usually just picking and choosing workouts to fit around my schedule rather than be my schedule.

My fellow running sisters think I'm crazy, my husband thinks I'm going to kill myself this way, and my fellow running friends think my schedule is nothing out of the ordinary. I guess that just goes to show you that there's different levels of crazy that are acceptable. How crazy? Well, here's a sample week from my program- this week's schedule to be exact:

Monday- 3 mile recovery run
Tuesday- 8 mile run
Wednesday- 4 mile run
Thursday- 40 minute tempo run
Friday- rest day
Saturday- 8 mile run @ race pace
Sunday- 17 mile run

Weekly total = approximately 45 miles. The mileage just goes up from there, folks.

I need new shoes...

Ohmmmm...

...so today started with the 5:28 am phone call letting us know that school was cancelled (freezing rain + rural country roads= scary school bus ride). Daughters #1 and #2 both slept in, as did I (until about 7:45 or so). Mr. Fix had the coffee brewed and was already tuned in to The History Channel when I came downstairs. The morning was pretty uneventful- laundry, paying bills, swearing at the dog- and then Daughter #1 came downstairs and made pink banana pancakes for everyone. Dee-lish!

I managed to get in an 8 mile training run outside, too. The sun was out, the temp was around 42, I wore capris, and I had a new playlist on my iPod. The run, however, was a bit...sloppy. The snow has been melting, right? Well, some of it is still blocking the sewer grates, and there are VERY LARGE puddles at every corner. So my socks and shoes got soaked & I'm trying to dry out my shoes before I need them again tomorrow night.

I've been exercising 5-6 days per week lately; its all part of my Clean Living routine, along with breakfast every day, no processed foods, and as few Lofthouse Cookies as possible (that one's hard). I've also been trying to incorporate more volunteer work into my days. I started with mentoring through Big Brothers Big Sisters and am working with a really special kid named Peter. Last week we made Play-doh with Kool-Aid. This past weekend I volunteered at the high school's Solo & Ensemble Band competition. Boy, can those band geeks work themselves up into a nervous frenzy! Its all part of a county-wide initiative my department at work is part of called 100 Hours of Hope . Check it out and share your thoughts and ideas. We've also got a blog set up! Go HERE.

So now comes the explanation regarding the title of this post. A dear friend of ours, Buddha Bob, has been battling lymphoma, and thankfully is now in remission. Check out how he's been giving back not only to his community, but to other cancer survivors, too, by reading THIS.

Have a great week!