So Fresh

Sometimes working really hard to be someone you're not shines a bright light on who you actually are.

I'll start by conceding that this summer was incredibly, cruelly, mercilessly tough. Not in any significant way other than trying to run through the brutal, unrelenting heat and humidity. Trying to get excited about a Fall marathon, even one as monumentally insane as New York, proved to be nearly impossible. So this summer of running was just a huge drag. I remembered quite quickly why I hadn't opted for a Fall marathon since my first one back in 2005--it is preferable to bundle up than to melt away into oblivion, a lonely puddle along the bike path shrouded in sodden, but really cute, running clothes.

I thought I'd gotten myself on a good path by hiring a coach. Workout after workout I dutifully ran in circles (well, ovals) around the track, or slogged like a pack mule carrying my hydration getup on long runs. I logged every run, every pace, every emotion, every raindrop (or sweat drop as it was). I ran by myself in the early dark morning at the track, after hopping the fence to get in. (Er, don't share that part) I recruited friends to plod along on my recovery runs.

But, even after doing it all right, something wasn't right. I felt cut loose, drifting aimlessly towards some nebulous goal. Am I progressing? Are these workouts the right fit for me? Why am I signed up for a 5K? Why has every race been a complete disaster since May?

I spent enough time feeling frustrated with my running that I took a closer look. And I what I saw looked nothing like what I know works for me. I was running, and running, and running some more; then I remembered I am not someone who needs to do two long runs per week. I don't have to run 60+ miles per week to find success. Running 60-90 seconds per mile slower than my go-out-for-a-run pace on 80% of my runs is beyond unenjoyable--it is torture. I don't enjoy going into a workout with a cheat sheet because I can't remember all the paces and segments and duration without one. It just wasn't for me.

So I made a change. It was not easy. I am not someone who relishes letting others down or making people upset. I am terrible with confrontation, even in its mildest form. But I found a coach who is local to me, met with her, and signed right up. I also let me former coach know it wasn't anything personal---I just needed a little more face-to-face interaction. My current situation has me working with a coach who is not only running New York this year as well, it's her SEVENTH time running it. Her PR is from this race. I'm pretty sure she can point me in the right direction. I've only been working with her a week and already I've gotten a ton of positive and encouraging feedback.

I am not all the way there yet, but I feel like I'm running happy and free, like the old me is coming back. I've learned so many things that don't work for me along this running path. I am not a CrossFitter. I am not a high-mileage runner. I am not fancy. Give me some bodyweight exercises, maybe a kettlbell, 400 and 800 meter and mile repeats.  A tempo run.

And cooler temps.

Let's do this, starting fresh.

Almost a Year Later, I Have Feelings

It's been nearly one full year since I ran the Boston Marathon. I finished the race and immediately thought "NEVER AGAIN." Not a "never" to the marathon as a race distance, but to Boston. Never. Again.

Granted, the weather in 2015 was hideous: rain, wind, rain, 40 degrees, rain following the runners, wind. Oh, and cold rain. In fact, after the race my husband asked me if it had rained the whole time because, well, where he and the kids were in Boston, it had only started to rain about 20 minutes before I saw them. Oh, bless your heart, dear husband, but no. The rain started at mile 3 and, hardy har, the front moved towards Boston basically along the race route. With the runners. Into the headwinds which--and I'm not meteorologist--I have no idea how that happens.

But it wasn't just the weather that left a bad taste in my mouth. In the weeks leading up to the race--hell, the years I'd imagined actually running Boston--all anyone could talk about was how AMAZING the experience would be, how LOUD the crowds would be, how FRIGGIN MAGICAL the entire race from Hopkinton to Boston would be. And I felt, really, none of that. Again, maybe it was due to the weather, but until we got about halfway through, the crowds were pretty thin. I was glad to have music to keep me, uh, focused. Maybe it was because by the time I actually got to race day I was so burned out from training and a 3-day-a-week CrossFit habit that I was too tired to buy into the hype. Maybe I was hangry the whole way. Maybe the refugee camp Athletes' Village was more intense than I'd planned; bodies strewn and huddled together over the entire surface area of grass covered by a circus tent. Maybe, surrounded by runners much, much faster than me, I let that imposter syndrome sink too far in; I never believed I belonged on that starting line.

Whatever the reason, I was almost as disappointed in how UNmagical I felt in the race as I was in my crapola performance. My husband cleaned the bathtub of our rented apartment so I could sit in a hot eighteen inches of water while my stomach slowly unclenched. He brought me a Coke to sip, a soft drink which I actually DID come to believe held magical powers. And I swore I would NEVER RUN BOSTON AGAIN.

But, uh. Well. You know how when you have a baby and it's so god-awfully painful and uncomfortable and undignified and you SWEAR you'll never have another baby and then, haha, that baby smell intoxicates your brain and suddenly you're flushing your birth control down the toilet? So many of my Oiselle teammates and other friends happen to be running this year. After an atypically mild winter of training. They're excited and hyped and ready to go and where the hell is all this FOMO coming from? Remember: I'M NEVER EVEN GOING TO ATTEMPT TO RUN BOSTON AGAIN.

Or, wellllllll, maybe if I happen to requalify someday and the next time I could run it I'll be over 40 so there's 5 more minutes on my qualifying time and maybe it actually wasn't as horrible as I'm remembering and the weekend was really fun and Boston's such a cool city and only a 6 hour drive away and--

Wait.
Breathe.

Boston Marathon weekend is amazing. The entire city sizzles with endophins and nervous energy and anticipation. Bostonians and their thousands of college student residents go bananas for the race. Walking around the city in your freshly-earned jacket makes you feel like a total rock star. There's a camaraderie that's earned the second you spot someone at the highway rest stop or in the airport wearing their unicorn medal or garishly-colored adidas jacket.


Ah, who knows. I worked my butt off once to qualify, and maybe that was enough. I ran it. I did not do well (for my own self) but I will admit that the finish down Boylston Street ranks up there with the top race experiences of my life. So maybe that's the draw, huh? Same as when that baby finally comes out, and the pain is gone, and what you have left is the satisfaction after going through the impossible, the promise of a life ahead; a joyful, grateful life after all. It was worth it, it's incredible. Maybe just one more time to experience that joy, that feeling of being part of a much, much bigger whole.

But first, just like post-baby, give me a shower, a beer,  and lots of snacks.

Goal Race or Hellish Winterscape?

This past Sunday, April 3, I ran my goal race, the race I'd spent 12 weeks training for, the Syracuse Half Marathon. It was, well, utterly hellacious. Not because of how I felt, or the course, or my nutrition or training or sleep. Not because of poor organization or lack of communication. No porta-potty emergencies. Nope, not even a wardrobe malfunction, lost toenail or bra-band chafing.

It was the hideous weather. You can read more about the weather here or here. Ironically, organizers moved this race back two weeks from mid-March to better ensure nicer weather. Ha. Ha. HAHAHAHAHAHA NOPE. Without a doubt this race provided the absolute worst weather I've ever raced in, let alone spent that much time training in.

Of course I'd been obsessively checking the ten-day weather forecast for Syracuse, but when it originally predicted 30MPH+ winds and cold temps, I stopped checking. I just packed almost every piece of cold-weather running gear I own and hoped for the best. Do I need to mention when I arrived in Syracuse Saturday afternoon it was windy but 55 degrees? No? Yeah, no need to acknowledge that cruelty. Kind of like the entire weekend before last year's Boston was sunny and 60 degrees.

And then the forecast got worse. I woke up Sunday morning in my peaceful, comfortable king-sized bed, ALONE, to the metallic clang and scrape of snowplows outside. Not a good sign, actually. When I peeked through the curtains I almost jumped back into bed: the flag outside my window was whipping horizontally and the landing and streets were coated with at least three inches of snow.

I have the best race weather luck.

Anyway. I reevaluated my race outfit, and settled on my Wazzie Wool half zip top under my long-sleeve Oiselle singlet, fleece-lined Moto Lesley tights, Wazzie Wool gaiter, gloves and hat. My cushy Stance socks inside my new adidas Energy Boost 3s on my feet.

I met some people in the lobby of my hotel who happened to be teammates of a girl I was planning to meet from my Oiselle team. We walked to the start together. Honestly, the sidewalks on that first trek outdoors were snow-covered, but the streets seemed manageable. The weather was cold and windy, but not completely unbearable.

I'll skip to the good stuff. It got exponentially worse, weather-wise. The first mile, which included a pretty significant uphill, was slippery but not impossible. The wind was blasting us cross-wise. Around the second mile things seemed doable; some slippery spots, some slushy potholes, wind around some turns. My feet were quite frozen but I was doing my best to avoid the huge puddles that filled the streets. Typical bad-winter-weather running.

Until I got to around mile 6. It was as though we entered another dimension. Suddenly snow was annihilating our faces, completely blinding me, forming glaciers along the ridge of my hat, eyelashes, eyebrows, gaiter, gloves. I was a running snowman. At this point, though, I think we all assumed it was a squall that would just pass us by.

It wasn't.

Flash forward to around the 15 kilometer mark. I was, surprisingly, ahead of the pace I'd expected to run. Every mile that had clicked by was faster than it felt. But that 15K mark held a wall of suck that I just slammed into head first. Suddenly my legs just could not move through the 3 inches of ice and snow that had accumulated along the course. I fought for traction just to get down the street as I tried to push of the ground. The last three miles of the race were a simple fight to get to the finish without falling and breaking my ass. I crossed the finish line, eventually, and was in complete disbelief that I, along with 3700+ other runners, had just lived through that.

I can't even really remember most of the race. Mostly because I couldn't actually see out of my eyes for at least half of it. What I do remember is a pretty good course, despite the weather. Volunteers and spectators willingly standing outside in the roaring wind and snowy vortex to help and cheer us on. Fighting every instinct I had to drop out, find a warm restaurant and thaw my frozen self. I would actually do this race again and think I would do well if the weather wasn't completely Arctic. I met up with two of my Oiselle teammates, and their run team; I may have even found my new running coach among them. I got to share in the run-crazy-insanity of this now-legendary race day. It wasn't all bad.

I am tremendously proud of how I did in the race overall, in spite of the weather. Not only did I not give up, I ran pretty smart through the whole race and felt good. So now what? Three days post-race I feel good, nearly 100% recovered. A yoga class Monday night, Spin Tuesday and TRX today has me feeling refreshed and ready to run tomorrow. And, based on how the rest of the week goes, I think I'm going to sign up for another race that's in two and a half weeks. Why waste this fitness? I'd like to give it another go and see what I can do right now. Not shooting for a PR or any records. I would love to get back to a race time that has me feeling confident.

We'll see how it goes.

Truthful Plans

After putting together my running goals for 2016, I took a few minutes to think about how to achieve them, and more than a few minutes about what will hold me back from getting there.

It doesn't take a whole lot of work to come up with a wish-list. And, as the saying and memes go, a goal without a plan is just a wish. Sure, there's plenty of things I WANT to achieve this year.  Lose x amount of weight, cut x minutes off per mile at each distance, cultivate a thriving blog . . . all worthy ambitions and not impossible to achieve. But no one's getting anywhere just sitting around wanting things to change.

The first step to getting where I want to be is to just stop fucking around. This looks like eliminating useless snacking and sugar-indulging and too-much-beer-enjoying. The past few months I've cut myself a ton of slack and have essentially stopped tracking what I've been putting in my body. I was in my best racing shape when I was more diligently, but not obsessively, counting calories and making sure I put high octane into my fuel tank. So, in the spirit of new beginnings, I am going to work very hard to snack on healthier options, to opt out of snacking mindlessly and freely after the kids go to bed, and to enjoy adult beverages responsibly two nights per week. I'm not planning on being perfect, but I do plan on dialing my efforts up a few notches.

Secondly, I need to be fair but firm with myself and my expectations. I know in the deepest parts of my heart that I am nowhere near my best running shape. Which means track intervals and long run paces aren't going to be as fast as I would like. That doesn't mean I can't be proud of where I am without working to get somewhere else. I can be happy with my current level of fitness while wanting more at the same time. And not beat myself up for not being where I want to be, yet.

Third, and this is always easier said than done, is to just do it. Damn, that is such a boring old cliche but isn't it just the truth? I mean, if I want this blog to be a living space, then sit down and write. If I want to get faster and fitter, make the commitment and get my ass to the track. No complaining, no second-guessing; just write, run, hit the publish and the lap buttons. Go.

Ah, so there are the bullet points for how to get from Point A to Point B, but what about the inevitable stumbling blocks? I've thought a bit about what's really holding me back. And that's the real scary shit.

The big ones, and here's the truth, are fear and envy. Putting myself out there, risking failure and looking foolish . . . those have always been some of my biggest fears. Typical first-born, Type-A personality, I expect to just do it well the first time. I'm hoping that by getting this out of my head and into the ether I can work a little smarter on sticking out the work. Being vulnerable but unafraid. And that leads right into envy, which makes my cheeks burn with embarrassment and anger. I have this need to compare myself with others, especially others who, at different times, I was running with as an equal . . . and, honestly, am not now. Just this morning, after my own short run, I was feeling happy and confident that this piriformis injury was maybe getting better. Then I saw another few runners' paces and distances on social media and immediately my happy little run turned sour. How awful to do that to myself, right? This is the biggest thing holding me back; not necessarily from running faster, but from being the best runner I can be for myself.

So. There it is. A skeleton of a plan to get through 2016, and come out in December better than I am here in January. I'm ready.

Now let's keep the injuries at bay, huh? Sheesh.

Time to #WomanUp2016

Here we are at the start of another year, January 1 yet again. A fresh, blank page in the running journal, time to set some goals and make a plan to achieve them.

Except, I'm at a bit of a loss. Where do I start? Truthfully, 2015 was a huge flop of a running year for me. I ran several personal worsts, sustained a handful of injuries that left me wondering how to recover. I worked with a physical therapist. I quit CrossFit. I started taking Runners' Bootcamp and took Spinning to cross-train. I ran 300+ fewer miles in 2015 than the year before.

I felt like garbage 90% of my running miles, was slower and felt like an overall failure.

But here's the thing: towards the end of 2015, I started to enjoy running again. After three injuries, it seemed like I was on the way back to my former running self. The Turkey Trot was the first race I'd run since the half-marathon in June, and the Mud Run in August after that. Neither of THOSE were very good, and I had no business expecting to run it well. And, well, I didn't. I ran the slowest I ever had, not counting the years I was pregnant. It was, however, the first race I ran wearing my Oiselle singlet, and it made me hungry for more. A few weeks later I ran a 5K (in December, in SHORTS!) and, while it still was 2 minutes away from my best, I felt so strong and confident. I managed to string together 3+ sub-seven-minute miles, and win my age group. After that, my runs started to get faster and more comfortable and longer.

And then my piriformis started to flare up and now here I sit with a literal pain in my ass. It is beyond frustrating to feel like things are starting to come back together only to have to bow out once again. Tomorrow is cross training, no running. I ran two miles today, and while my pace was fine and I felt pretty good, I could tell my piriformis was still aggravated. Came home, stretched, sat on the TriggerPoint massage ball. Uuurrrgghghghghg. Grr!

Anyway. Back to goals for 2016. I guess I need to just take baby steps back to where I was 18 months ago.

1. Run under 21 minutes for the 5K. I'd love to get back under 20, but that might take a little more time.
2. Consistent speed work. And on non-speed weeks, get in a good hill workout at the Ridge.
3. 1:35:ish for the Syracuse Half Marathon on April 3. I don't think I can get back to my PR of 1:32:xx this Spring, yet.
4. Blog more consistently. I need to get out of my own head, and I would like to connect with more runners, maybe grow this space a little bit.
5. Listen to my body when a possible injury is brewing. I want to get better at preventing injury rather than putting out fires.
6. Eat vegetables with at least 2 meals/day. I need to clean up my diet on a more consistent basis and I think eating more vegetables will help get that on track.
7. Core/Strength/Stretching. I plan to do core work, often in the form of Oiselle's Dirty Dozen, 3x/week, go to Runners' Bootcamp 1x/week plus a BaseSix/Prime workout another 1x/week, and consistently stretch and do Jasyoga after every run. I also need to figure in an upper body workout 1-2x/week.

I have a tentative plan to run a Fall marathon this year, thinking of putting my name in the lottery for Chicago, Marine Corps or signing up for Philly, or possibly Wineglass for a smaller race.

These goals right now seem a little impossible and a little scary, and it's hard to look at the all the work I need to do just to get back to where I was. I can look at a few decisions over the past year or so that took me away from where I was, and it makes me crazy to think I was such an idiot. But here I am, the blank first page of the Book of 2016, and it's time to fill the rest of the book with a good story. I'm ready to #womanup2016.

Three in a Row?

Somehow, over the past three days, I have managed to string together three really, surprisingly good runs. Not the fastest ever, but I felt strong and satisfied each time. I don't know what's happening, or how long it will last, but I'm really happy.

Saturday I did my regularly scheduled long run, which ended up being just seven miles. I had planned to go eight, but I was feeling strong and steady and decided at 6 to finish at seven with a faster last mile. Finish wanting more, I guess. Sunday's run turned into a five mile tempo. The middle three miles weren't blazingly fast by any stretch, but they were fast enough to feel hard and I was strong enough to keep going. And while I tried to recover in the fifth mile, I opened it up the last quarter and felt great.

We're back to summer schedules this week, so while my older son was at basketball camp, my little guy and I took to the Outer Harbor's bike path for the first stroller run of the year. It was a beautifully sunny morning, high sixties with little wind. I'll admit the path away from the waterfront was sunny and warm, and half of our route today was covered in goose poop (my son thought that was the best part). But after a slow warmup mile to get the legs and arms and brain used to pushing the stroller, the next three miles were under eight-minute pace. Which isn't setting any world records, I know. But it was faster than I thought it would be considering my relative lack of fitness, currently, and lack of stroller-running practice.  We covered a nice little four mile out-and-back, and I'm sure I'll be doing more of this in the coming weeks. I'll bring my older son along on his bike; truth be told I wish my little guy could keep up on his training-wheeled bike, but for now the stroller will have to do.

The cost of this photo was a no-time-limit visit to the new playground.

So, after three days of strong, solid running, I feel like I might be back on the path to where I want to be. I haven't been able to string together two solid runs in a row since way back in marathon training. For now, I'm happy with how it's going. 

The reward.

Race Recap: Niagara Ultra Series (Half Marathon)

Living in Buffalo, NY, we are able to jump in on some cool across-the-border Canadian races. Back in March I ran the Around the Bay 30K in Hamilton, Ontario with my best friend, Mo. It boasts that it's "Older than Boston", a fact which is weirdly emblazoned on the back of the race shirts. It was, however, a pretty good marathon tune-up. But that's not the race we're discussing today.

Last weekend I ran the half-marathon distance in the Niagara Ultra series. Coincidentally I'd heard of this race from a flyer (and enthusiastic club member) at the ATB30K expo. Runners could choose from the 10K, half marathon, full marathon or ultra marathon (50K) distances. I wisely went with the half, and decided to use it as a training run.

The race starts in Niagara-on-the-Lake, in a park, on grass, behind Kinsman Hall. This is also where runners pick up their race packets and (actually pretty nice) hooded sweatshirts. The races had half hour staggered starts, with the ultra runners going out at 7AM, marathon at 7:30, half-marathon at 8 and the 10K at 8:30.

At packet pickup. The Queen bestows her good luck.

A personal note here: these bathrooms (shown below, and called "washrooms" in Canadian) were a literal GODSEND. The race started at 8AM, but since I had to drive 40 minutes and deal with an international border crossing, I drank my breakfast and coffee in the car. By the time I got to packet pick-up, things were, um, starting to happen, gastro-intestinally. The doors to these washrooms were locked when I parked my car near them, so I decided to take my chances with the ports-potties near packet pickup. However after I got my number and sweatshirt, the line for the porta-potties had approximately sixty people in it, for the eight porta-potties available. I was beyond distressed. So, I made my way back to my car to drop off my gear and, lo and behold, the washroom door was WIDE OPEN. Lord have mercy, I think I was the first person to befoul use the facilities that morning. It was a pure heaven that only an early-morning runner can know.

OMG this was HEAVEN.

This race is pretty low-key, considering its distances. An example? As we lined up to start, the race director gave us some instructions and notes on the course ("Don't all jam up the start chute; no one's going to win the race in the first 50 meters."), said, "Ready, set go!" and we were off. The course is almost entirely on a bike path that runs along the Niagara River and Gorge. The full and ultra marathon distances take runners all the way to Niagara Falls, but the half and 10K turnarounds are way before that. The course is mostly flat, with some gentle rolling hills along the way. The "hills" are really like transitions from one part of the path to another. The path also runs in front of some gorgeous homes along the Niagara Parkway.

Overall this race, which is an out-and-back, has a park-like feel. The course was mostly shaded, but the open parts were really sunny. Considering this race is at the end of June, it could have been awfully nasty and humid. After a coolish start (mid-sixties) it warmed up quite a bit but wasn't totally oppressive. I ended up carrying my fluids (Tailwind in a hand-held bottle) because the water stops/aid stations were every 5K, and I didn't want to be too far away from water in the heat.

Personally I ran like garbage for the last part of the race. The first eight miles were decent. I had planned to stay right around 8-minute pace, which I held (sort of, was under for a few miles) through 8 miles. The last five were rough. I did a lot of walking, mostly because I just stopped caring about any kind of finish time. I did string an entire mile of running together from 9-10, but after that I just plain ran out of gas. Ah well. If nothing else, this race showed me where I need to improve, and that's never a bad thing.

The finish, as you can see below, was also on grass. This course was a literal out-and-back, so the last 20 meters or so were on the uneven surface. After receiving my medal and a bottle of water, I went back to watch my friend finish and then got the heck outta there.

Oh sweet finish line, there you are.

I'd definitely do this race again next year. For as home-spun as this race was, it was very well-organized and attended. The race pics were all posted on the Niagara Ultra's Facebook page by the next day. Imagine that: professional race photos FOR FREE. Despite my resemblance to Gollum in all of them, I was impressed.

Lookin', uh, yeah.

 So for now I have my point A, and it was my performance in this race. Looking forward to working towards points B and beyond.

Caught these two finishing hand in hand. Cute, right?