7/31/11

Gifted....

Some runners on the NJ shore run an occasional stretch of beach rather than boardwalk. I have read a bit about the benefits to running barefoot and while sand can slow you down quite a bit, it's more forgiving on your joints provided that you are not running on a slant. This was my first go at running on the beach. From the street I live on, I have a 1.6 mile uninterrupted stretch of beach that I can run. So this gives me just over 5k as an out-and-back.

Yesterday morning, I dressed without shoes or knee high tube socks and hit the sand at around 8:20 am. I must admit I did not enjoy the 4 blocks of walking barefoot but I didn't want to risk losing any footwear by having to leave it somewhere. (My middle SON regularly steals my flip flops so I have enough issue in this regard, but that is another story. And for the record, he wears my gold or pink flip flops without shame.)

I was excited for this run. I don't remember the last time that I approached a run with genuine joy. What better way to celebrate living, movement, and fitness than a run on the beach and a swim in the ocean? I am very aware that my ability to run is a gift and a reward. So many people cannot (and/or will not) run and I can. As well, many do not/cannot/will not put in as much time and hard work and thus I feel that this ability to move fluidly (for HOURS if I wish!!!) is a well earned reward for my efforts. It's something to celebrate when you look at it that way, isn't it?

I ran under the pier where my neighbor holds daily yoga group instruction. I had no idea so many people attended! I ran past people just arriving- dousing themselves in sunblock and unpacking their beach luggage. I passed older couples reading newspapers, younger couples taking photos of each other with cell phone cameras, little kids with heavy buckets full of water, seagulls yelling at who-knows-what, jetty rocks, sea shells and mussels. There were parents urging their children to bravely walk into the water, children BEGGING their parents to let them go to the water and parents yelling at their children for going too far out into the water. I saw 2 or 3 other runners, beautiful bodies in scant swimwear, and large wide bodies with beautiful confidence in scant swimwear. The beach is one big people watching opportunity and running along the shore gives someone with ADD the perfect perspective for people watching as you don't have anything in front of you for very long at all.

I ended this run with a swim in the ocean. I went out to one of the buoys and back. The waves were fairly calm and the water temperature felt perfect.

Far too often we runners grumble about how horrible it is to run. I find it funny that we bitch and moan about something we willingfully choose to do. No obligation to anything or anyone but ourselves is forcing us to get out there and conquer these distances. No consequence outside of our own feeling of failure or inadequacy threatens us if we choose not to run. Yet we often approach this gift with disdain and reluctance. Are we not seeing the abundant forest through the trees? What a blessing it is to have earned the ability to run. And to have the time and energy to do it at will. What a gift it is to aspire to a goal and achieve it for no one else but yourself.

Sometimes it's the simple things that don't cost anything but time that make you realize that living and movement are precious, precious gifts. This is why I run.

7/24/11

Sometimes the run doesn't even matter...

...what I mean is that my personal achievements are not always the only reason to get out there and run. I admit that the Undy5000 appealed to me primarily because I knew it would give me a fun creative way to dress a bunch of friends for a race. So our team name (Heart On) and our uniforms were doused in a bit of shock value:



And I think the heat index had us close to 100 degrees or something this morning. Our team of fourteen people (many of whom traveled 1 to 2.5 hours by car to get here) dressed in these funny outfits we made and came together to run 5k on the boardwalk in underwear.



We had three teammates who had never experienced a 5k race before. And there they were today wearing THAT and enduring THIS HEAT just because they had the will to do it! Think about how great that is. This silly fun idea turned into a great accomplishment. A great test that they all passed- they now know they can suffer through a run that totally sucks. Their next race is going to feel like a walk in the park! Do you remember your first 5k? That "wow, I can't believe I did that" feeling when it was over? I am so grateful to have been a part of this experience for these women. THIS is what running (and living) is all about, isn't it? If you know that something can challenge and improve you, it's only that much better when you can share it with others.

So one might wonder- how did I personally do in this 5k? Did I PR in this crazy heat? Did I decide to take extreme caution and walk? Am I still a bit shell shocked from lying in an ambulance after finishing a marathon just one month ago?

Well here's how I ran it:



I ran the whole course with one of my closest friends from high school. We only walked maybe a total of 4 or 5 minutes. I was impressed when I saw the clock ticking at around 37 minutes. With the high temperatures and the unfamiliarity of running on boardwalk and pavement (she trains on a treadmill) her goal was to finish her first 5k (in this miserable heat)in under 40 minutes. So there. We have it.

I didn't cross the finish line with her. While we were running we took turns passing and being passed by another teammate, Susanna. She joined the team about a week before the race. I don't know what her time goal was, but I do know that she ran the whole thing. After Dawn crossed the finish I turned around to head back and bring her in.

Susanna finished her first 5k in less than 39 minutes.

After that, I turned around again to bring our last teammate in. She was walking the course and her goal was to finish it in under an hour. As I was running out to meet her, a fellow marathon maniac and running club member saw me and asked what my finish time was. I was actually rather happy to tell her I didn't cross the finish yet. I ran about a mile out and met up with Tiffany who woke up at an ungodly hour and drove like 2 hours with her husband and 8 month old baby to get here. I do not doubt Tiffany's will and determination. It was hot and miserable but she was uncertain of making her goal time but quite certain that she would finish. We walked through the nice heavy downpour of water that the fire truck provided and saw the clock ticking at 56 minutes.


She finished right around 57 minutes and I crossed the finish line right behind her. This was my best 5k yet. A PR of sorts in a completely different way. These ladies kick ass. And will continue to do so and it all started with this race in underwear.

I need to give quick props to my middle child for running with the team. He finished in 34 minutes which is AWESOME given the heat advisory. (this is the second best part of this race for me) My hope as a mother is that he will take this will and determination and channel it into other things in the future.

And here's the third best part:



We won the best costume award! Sewing hearts on the underwear crotches and my husband's design, layout and heat pressing was time well spent. Amidst the glory of the first 5k-ers, we had one teammate place 3rd in her age group and 2nd on our team finishing at around 24 minutes, another teammate ran his 2nd race ever and finished in about 25 minutes (remember it's beyond hot out!) and our shoe-in teammate (who was recruited by Tiffany) smoked us all and finished in around 22 minutes. Aside from my son and me, we had another parent child duo on the team- proving that good habits are certainly hereditary.

I'll leave you all with one last disturbing photo. I believe the undy run provides an opportunity to remind us that there is no required body shape or size to just go out and have fun. Lack of chiseled abs and magazine page perfection need not stop you. Have fun while you are alive. Go do it now.

7/19/11

Running with a raging heart on!

Somehow, I swindled 14 people into running in underwear (some of us in briefs and tighty whiteys!!!) to raise money for The Colon Cancer Alliance! We'll all be wearing this logo (designed by my multi-talented husband) on white wife beater/undershirts!


So far we raised $725 in donations for the Colon Cancer Alliance and that doesn't even include race registration. Not bad considering some of us just wanted an excuse to run in ridiculous attire in public! What I like best about this event is that a few of my teammates have never run a 5k before. I am excited to be part of their first race experience! Woohoo! Go team Heart On!

7/11/11

Marathons+Marathon Maniacs Member+Registered for Next Marathon= Now What?

Goals. Someone asked me (again) why I do this running thing. I said that if you don't keep challenging yourself to do something amazing, (and it doesn't have to have anything to do with fitness- you just need to truly amaze yourself with your accomplishments regularly) then why bother breathing?

Here's my list of short term running/fitness-centered goals.

1. Lose fat. Yeah yeah yeah. You might think I'm "too thin" but I'm not. I'm almost 5'3". I'm (usually) 128 lbs and that is not a weight that makes one gasp and get concerned about anorexia. (I go from 126-130 all the time- I fluctuate from week to week so I can't ever get excited over losing one pound- I know my body is messing with me.) If I actually believed the chart at the doctor's office I most recently visited, I'm about 10 lbs from being classified as "overweight" (depending on what the scale reads) but we all know that's horse shit. There's some formula out there about how every 5 pounds you lose takes so many seconds off of your mile. I'm game to test the formula.

2. Build muscle. I am at a point where I don't have a lot of confidence in my ability to be too much faster than I am now. I believe I can be more efficient in the marathon distance and thereby decrease my time, but I feel like my 5k PR isn't going to get all that much better unless I get a little more power behind me. (and do some real speed work)

3. Increase core strength. I have a strong core but I think I should focus on regular core strengthening. It's an investment in my future as a little old lady. I'd like to sit down on the toilet and stand up after I use the toilet without assistance for as long as possible. Ideally without that toilet seat booster that so many old ladies have.

4. Get my kids out there more. Yeah yeah, I know my kids are active, lean, and athletic. This is an investment in their future AND my relationship with them. My nine year old can run a 5k in 34 minutes. My fourteen year old's PR is just under 24 minutes. My twelve year old is somewhere between them. Should they become middle aged out-of-shape fathers who can only live vicariously through their children, I hope they will ALWAYS remember that they can run. I hope they remember that their parents run (yes my ex husband gets out there- he struggles with his weight constantly but he can run and lose weight when he decides he really wants to) and that if we can do it, so can they. We have one 5k and one relay that have become family traditions. We need more. And we need to do them even when I'm an old menopausal pain in the ass.

5. Budget. I can't blow all my money on races. I can't depend on races for an excuse to get away for a weekend. I'm not sure how I'll do this. It's not killing us financially or anything- but I guess I need to narrow down and sort of plan for races and see if the funds I'm shelling out are worth it. I'll take any suggestions on this one.

6. Swim. I'm four tiny blocks from the ocean, for goodness sakes. The least I can do is be a seasonal swimmer for cross training reasons. (And in case my balls ever grow big enough for an Ironman- but you might notice that "bike" is not on this list yet.) I'm kind of excited about doing a regular run-swim-run. How do I pull this off without a place to stash a towel though?

I'll take any and all suggestions on how to constructively attain these goals. Bear in mind that I'm training for Philly while still sort of recovering from 2 June marathons. Squats make my knees feel weak. Walking in anything but a sneaker or a sport sandal hurts my ankles and feet a little. I'm still a little rattled from that whole sodium loss situation after the 2nd marathon- I experience some sort of post traumatic paranoia when I run in the heat. I have a very high pain/discomfort tolerance, so I can only assume that if it's noticeable, it's something I should not ignore.

The summer is going to go by really fast, isn't it?

7/6/11

Making it right...

I am all about conquering fear. I will admit right here and now that I'm a little afraid to run another marathon. I'll certainly delay conquering the fear of running another marathon when it's 80-something degrees out, but I didn't run all of those miles just to create a new reluctance.

Oh I have a confession too. Look at this medal:




I didn't earn it. But it was put around my neck and by the time I really had the wherewithal to realize that it was a marathon medal and not a half marathon medal, I was on my way home. And this is a little embarrassing... but I did register for the full marathon in 2008. I didn't train adequately- oh wait that's the understatement of the year; I didn't train AT ALL so I conceded to running the half. (you're thinking, so what- at least you did the half, right?) But the confession goes deeper. I'm not done... I walked most of it. Now don't get me wrong, I have a lot of respect for race walkers. I think that anyone that steps out and finishes a race deserves a medal. But for me, personally, this was a waste. I do not go out in the freezing cold and pay whatever it is that I paid for registration and a hotel and sit in a car for that long just to freakin' WALK! It was so cold on that day that the ground near all the aid stations was a sheet of ice. I wondered how those who were hoping to PR or Boston qual managed not to slip and break their face. Seriously. It was miserably freezing.

In 2008 I was no where near ready to run a marathon. I couldn't even manage a half. I was out of shape, drinking waaay more than I should've been drinking and paying no mind to how much I was NOT taking care of myself.

So it's time. I'm on fire. I'm ready. I'm officially registered!


I'm getting ready to conquer the fear and make it right. Oh, and to blow my PR away... Bring it, bitchezzz!

7/5/11

You want it? Go get it.



Earned. With heart, sweat, will, blood, sodium (ha) and tears. Every person who believed in me, every person who uttered a word of encouragement, every person who helped me find the time, strength and energy to achieve my goals helped me earn this. Whether I know you in real life or only through this blog, whether I see you daily or hardly at all, whether we even speak, whether I only passed by you once in my life, if you hoped for, believed in, or expected success for me, thank you. I don't know where I'd be without you.

7/2/11

Race Report 1/2 Sauer 1/2 Kraut 26.2- Be Ready For Anything

... I said "Be ready for anything" quite a few times to my husband when we were talking about what to expect (from me) after a marathon. When I ran Lake Placid, it was my first so I had no clue how I might feel afterward. When I ran my second marathon this weekend, errr.... well, it was the first time I ever ran a marathon only two weeks after I ran a marathon. Therefore, I had no clue what to expect after the race.

My previous post playfully explains what happened after the 1/2 Sauer 1/2 Kraut 26.2 and now that I am (mostly) recovered, I can say HOLY CRAP. That was dangerous. But this entry will not be a dramatic recap of how I could've died after a marathon. I'll only touch on that lightly.

This race was vastly different from any other long-ish race (as in 10 miles or more) that I've run. I think I have somewhere between 10 and 15 long-ish races under my belt and with the exception of this 20k nonsense nothing comes marginally close. This race was a 13.1 out and back (twice) through a beautiful park. A pretty stream was always within view and mallard ducks, turtles and tiny chipmunks made appearances throughout the course. It was mostly a bike trail so even though it was wooded, we were on asphalt or pavement most of the time. There was a bit of trail running and open field (grass) running as well. The trail has several rather steep downhill spots that made this run dangerously challenging for anyone who wanted to spare their knees. (I walked ALL of the down hill portions of this race because I am still not entirely recovered from Lake Placid)

Having run a marathon only 2 weeks before, I have to admit I'm kind of impressed with the fact that the first 13.1 miles just breezed by. The clock read 2:20 when I went out to take my second bout through the course. (That's a bit faster than I should've been going but hey, I was doomed anyway. I just didn't know it at that point.)

This course was stated to be "mostly flat" on the website. I'm not sure if that was supposed to be sarcastic or if whoever wrote that really didn't see the course at all. I was not expecting so many hills- now they weren't crazy inclines all the time but they were enough to make you hurt. It was by no definition "mostly flat" with the exception of maybe the first 2 miles. Race support was adequate but there were only 2 places with port a johns. I had the pleasure of using an old dark (no electricity) bathroom that happened to be open on the course. It's amazing what desperation will make you unabashedly willing to do. (If you're afraid of TMI, skip the next sentence.) Since there was no toilet paper, I used the sweat drenched red bandana I was wearing on my head. (relax, it was only a #1!) I held on to the thing for the next mile of the race and finally ditched it close enough to a garbage can. I didn't start feeling truly humbled by this course until maybe mile 16 or so. I didn't have a time goal at all (though let's face it, I knew that I'd be bummed if I showed up too much later than 5 hours) so I had no qualms with walking hills. I still don't know what "the wall" is. Is it when you decide that it's best to walk? I'm not sure that any part of this race could've had a wall for me since I was completing it only to qualify for Marathon Maniacs. I wasn't pushing too hard and I had no solid expectation of myself. I just needed to finish it and there was no doubt in my mind as to whether or not I'd cross that finish line. Ha! This whole race was walled and barricaded in my mind because I was far from recovered from my first marathon just 2 weeks ago. Once I approached the 15 mile marker, even the slightest hill pounded at my quads. My calves burned whenever I ran anything but a very comfortable pace. My knees still felt rickety and unsteady. Perhaps the wall was at the start..? My mindset in this race was completely different from Lake Placid. And because the race was inside a park, the spectators were sparse. It's amazing how much hearing "great job" or "looking good" or any form of encouragement from a total stranger means when you're entrenched in what feels like an never ending challenge.

By mile 16ish my stomach started feeling a little upset. I was hydrating enough- my mouth wasn't dry and I was continuously drenched in sweat. I took gatorade and water at every aid station and I drank most of it. I also had four power gels. I felt hot and dizzy at some points but since I am a runner who embraces the heat/humidity in the summer, this didn't really phase me much except to emphasize the need to stop at every single aid station. I had completely stopped running ANY hills at all and I walked about 90 percent of the trail portion this time. My brain had lost it's ability tell my feet how to quickly dodge protruding roots and stones. (Is that the wall?) When the path was straight and clear I ran. Although 5:08 is a startlingly slow for me, that pace is just over 5.1 miles per hour which isn't a lazy stroll through the park pace by any stretch.

The last 3.2 inspired me to run more consistently- I was 5k away from the end and don't I know that I can run a 5k like it's nothing. In this home stretch I caught up to a few (literally maybe four as this was a small race) runners- one of whom looked so young. I chatted with him and he told me he was fourteen! Am I impressed or a bit concerned that a child would be out there alone- I still don't know but I have a lot of respect for a young kid who has the discipline and will to finish a marathon. I passed him while he was walking but I decided that if he should come anywhere near me, I would allow him to pass me and finish ahead of me so that I could tell my sons that a fourteen year old boy beat me in a marathon.

I was feeling really weak and dizzy when I saw mile marker 24.1 so I actually pulled out my cell phone to text my husband and say that I had 2 miles to go but I might end up walking a lot of it. I saw the time and noticed that I was approaching the 5 hour mark- I assumed I was doing the math wrong- surely I had to be closer to 5:30 or 6 hours. I was having trouble staying focused. At one point I nearly burst into tears and I have no idea why. I wasn't in pain, per se. There was an inner struggle of some kind. My body felt almost lifeless yet I could keep my feet moving. (Is this the wall?) I hoped that all of my friends weren't worried about why I was taking so long. In fact, I hoped that they all went ahead to the post race party without me...

When I saw the 26.1 mile marker in the distance, immediately after a surge of joy and relief, something scary happened. My throat felt like it was closing up- like I had an airway the size of a straw. My vision blurred a bit and I literally laughed and said "NO" to whatever was happening. I slowed to a walk to try and regain control. Two men on the side of the path cheered me and said "Come on! You're almost there!" and I told them that everything was blurry and I was having trouble breathing. One of them offered me a water bottle with one good swig left in it. I wasn't thirsty at all but I thanked him and drank it. My vision was clear again and I started running. The fourteen year old boy catches up and I tell him he has to pass me. I approached the finish and to my surprise the clock reads 5:09 and all my friends (two ran the half and one ran his first full marathon on this day) are there with my husband. I cross the finish and a medal is hung around my neck and within seconds my throat feels like a tiny narrow straw again.

Coincidentally, I am right next to an ambulance. There's an EMT standing next to it and I tell him what is happening. He tells me how to try and control my breathing and I am surprisingly comfortable with the fact that I just might fade out- no panic no worry at all... My vision is blurry again and I feel like the ground is shaking. He tells me to sit on the grass and he takes my blood pressure and tells me he doesn't know how I am even coherent enough to converse. I got into the detail of all of this in my previous entry so I don't want to mull over it again, but based on what was happening, my sodium levels were likely dangerously low. I was hydrated but my sodium and electrolytes were uh... gone... The EMT told me that when people are dying, their blood pressure lowers and their heart rate rises. (It was one of those "you had to be there" kind of conversations- he was being kind and informative even though it sounds scary and threatening when typed out.) Once my heart rate was closer to normal, I left the ambulance and found moments of joy and glory for this accomplishment. Two marathons. Two weeks apart. I am endurance. Really.

Now that several days have passed, I am still proud and I still feel like it was kick ass to do two marathons that close together, but I am deeply humbled. "Be ready for anything" was what I told my husband, but I was not ready to end in an ambulance. Just a couple of weeks before I read about Zachary Gregory, a 25 year old healthy experienced runner who collapsed at the Chicago 13.1 and died that same morning. Remember what the EMT said to me? Well, this may be my last heat-of-the-summer marathon. I am not ready for anything. Other runners out there who aspire to challenge themselves with a long race, please remember that anything can happen.